Chapter Thirty-Four
Andrew paced in front of the parlor fireplace, feeling strangely nervous to see Penelope. He thought perhaps it was the fact that he did not know what her state of mind would be when they saw each other that had him on edge. It also did not help that he was still shaking in anger from his confrontation with his parents. How had Penelope’s parents reacted to the story?
Had they known already? Was it a surprise?
How many people has Penelope revealed this secret to?
Suddenly, he heard footsteps approaching the parlor at a hurried pace. The next moment, a lady’s maid stood in the doorway. She offered Andrew a polite, shy smile before curtsying and moving to a seat in the corner of the room.
Finally, Penelope appeared. Her expression was a mixture of relief and exhaustion, and he thought she looked exactly how he felt.
“Andrew,” she breathed, running to him. He opened his arms to her, and she fell into them without hesitation. She clutched his jacket and buried her face against his chest. In that moment, he did not care about propriety or that her chaperone was in the room with them. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight against him.
“Penelope, sweetheart, I was so worried for you,” he murmured into her hair. Pulling back, he held her at arm’s length so he could study her face. “Are you all right?”
She shook her head. “Not particularly, no, but I am better now that you are here.”
He nodded. “I saw the story in the paper about you and your brother.”
Her expression fell in an instant. Squeezing her eyes closed, she whimpered, “I am so sorry, Andrew. I should not have kept such a secret from you. I…I understand if you think less of me, or if you think my occupation does not suit me…”
Andrew could not help the small smile that curled his lips. “Sweetheart, please open your eyes.” He did not continue until she complied to his request. When she was looking up at him, he confessed, “I knew long ago that you were the true author of those novels.”
Had they found themselves in different circumstances, her baffled expression would have proven quite amusing.
“Wh…what?” she gasped at last. “You…you knew? How could you possibly know? Neither of us ever told a soul before now.”
He chuckled. “Darling, it was obvious. That day you first came to call on Lady Dorothy, you spoke so passionately on the subject of those novels. It was my first hint that you were not a mere fan of the genre. After meeting your brother, I quickly determined he did not have the imagination nor same level of passion as you did for the subject. I reached the conclusion that you were the true author not long after.”
She stared up at him, appearing so confused, it was adorable.
“Why did you not question me?” she asked. “Why not tell me you had figured it out?”
He shrugged. “The simple answer is that I thought it better that you tell me if and when you became ready. The more complex answer is that I enjoyed teasing you too much to make you aware of my insight so soon.”
“What? Teasing me?”
“I do so enjoy watching your expressions when you are worked up,” he confessed, running a finger down her cheek. He dropped his voice to a low, rumbling whisper. “In truth, I find it rather arousing.”
Penelope gasped, her face growing red.
“You must not say such things.” She glanced over her shoulder, to look at her lady’s maid as if horrified the woman had just overheard Andrew’s words. Turning back to him, she continued, “What if someone were to walk in and hear you?”
“Then they would know my true desire for you.” The memory of their carriage ride flashed through his mind, and his loins tightened despite the seriousness of their present circumstances. He recalled the feel of her soft flesh beneath his fingers, the heat of her core when he pressed into her. Her tightness…
That really took place just yesterday?
It seemed like a lifetime ago.
“You are teasing me again, are you not?”
Shaking himself from his lust-ridden stupor, he winked at her. “Indeed, Madam, you have caught me red-handed.”
She rolled her eyes but then grinned.
“You are incorrigible.”
He gazed down at her for a moment, marveling at her beauty and poise in the face of her impending scandal. Though he could tell she was shaken by the whole thing, her expression was serene as she stared back up at him. He wondered how the rest of her morning had been, highly doubtful she had been this calm throughout it.
“How have your parents reacted to the revelation?”
She released a deep sigh but did not appear upset as she considered her answer. Merely tired.
“At first, not so well,” she said at length. “I actually told them last night because I knew Harry was planning to tell your sister before he proposed. I thought it best they hear it from me in case…well, in case something like this were to happen. To say they were not pleased with the news would be an understatement. They were very concerned with the potential for scandal, but now that such scandal is inevitable, they seem more accepting of it all.”
“Really?” Andrew found that surprising. He did not know many people who would put their fears of social rejection aside like that. Certainly not his own parents, as he had discovered.
She nodded. “Yes, really. In truth, I was stunned, but I must confess to how grateful I am to them.”
He was envious of her. He wished his own parents could be as forgiving and open-minded. He dreaded telling Penelope his own parents’ reactions to the scandal. He knew she would feel terrible and guilty, but he also knew he had to tell her. It was yet another obstacle for them to overcome, but a necessary one if they hoped to hang on to their future together.
As if she could read his thoughts, she gazed up at him and asked, “What of the Duke and Duchess? Have they seen the newspaper story? Are they furious?”
Meeting her eyes, he was tempted to tell her all was well. He hated to cause her any kind of pain, and he knew this would hurt her.
“They were…not pleased,” he hedged, hoping to spare her the worst of it. “The Duke and Duchess are very protective of the Lockeder name, and they believe this situation is putting it at risk.”
She furrowed her brow. “What exactly did they say? Harry proposed to Lady Dorothy last night. Is their engagement still on?”
He flared his nostrils, choosing his words carefully. “They are not thinking rationally at present. When they have had time to calm down and come to their senses, they will think differently.”
Penelope went very still and narrowed her eyes. “Andrew, you are not answering my questions. What did the Duke and Duchess say?”
Andrew released a defeated sigh. “Very well. No, the Duke and Duchess are not happy with the situation. They are rather furious, in truth. My father has declared that Lady Dorothy will not marry your brother and has ordered me to cut all ties with you.”
Panic flashed in her gaze. “What? Andrew, you don’t…you don’t intend to…”
He took her hands and held them to his chest.
“No, my darling. I do not intend to end our courtship. Not for my parents. Not for anyone. You will be my wife, Penelope. Have no doubt about that.”
She gaped at him. “Are you…are you proposing to me, Andrew?”
That had not been his intention. He had merely meant to reassure her, but the more he thought of it, the more he realized he did want to be betrothed to her. Now. Not later. Why should he wait when he knew he loved her? That he wanted to be with her the rest of his life, and no other woman would do?
“Yes, Penelope. I believe I am.” His heart hammered as he gazed at her. In such a short amount of time, she had become an integral part of his world. He could no longer imagine his life without her.
And my father wishes me to give her up. My mother believes it so easy for me to replace her. Impossible, on both accounts.
He could give her up no more than he could com
mand his body to no longer need breath.
“Andrew…I…I do not know what to say,” she stammered. She sounded breathless, and a pretty blush covered her cheeks. “Are you sure you want to do this now? What will the Duke and Duchess think?”
“I do not care,” he replied with complete honesty. “All I care about right now is you, Penelope. The Duke and Duchess will come around in time.”
“But they will be so angry with you,” she insisted. “I do not want to cause an even greater rift between you and your family.”
Her concern for him was further proof that she was everything he could hope for in a wife.
“If they cannot accept my love for you, that is their issue, not ours.” He dropped her hands so he could cup her face. “Say you will marry me, Penelope. Say you will be my wife and spend the rest of your life at my side.”
She wrapped her fingers around his wrists but did not attempt to push him away. Instead, she leaned into him, and there was such longing in her eyes, it made his heart ache.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I will marry you, Andrew. If you can accept me despite this scandal and all my unladylike flaws, then I will proudly stand by you and become your wife, no matter who opposes our being together.”
He could not have been prouder, or more overjoyed. This beautiful, brave, brilliant lady would be his come hell or high water. They would face whatever challenges came their way. Nothing would stand in their path to happiness.
The urge to kiss her was overwhelming, and he began to lean into her, his eyes locked on her lips…
“To spare any of us undue embarrassment, I will pretend I did not see this,” Lady Bienholm’s voice suddenly filled the room. Andrew froze, his mouth inches away from Penelope’s.
Penelope was the first to act, disentangling herself from his hold and pushing away from him. Spinning on her heel, she smiled guiltily at her mother.
“My Lady! You…you took us by surprise,” she stuttered.
Lady Bienholm arched a brow, and it was clear by her expression that she was irritated. She cast a glare toward the poor lady’s maid, who had jumped to her feet at her mistress’ entrance. The girl’s face was a deep red, and she hung her head in clear shame.
Andrew silently cursed himself. How could he be so foolish as to make advances on Penelope in her own home? He still needed the Baron’s blessing to move forward with the engagement, and if his wife told him what she had walked in on, Andrew very much doubted he would get it.
“I can see that,” Lady Bienholm snapped, moving further into the room. “What are you two thinking? Is one scandal not enough for either of you?”
“Mother, it was not our intention to…”
“Your daughter had just accepted my proposal, and I could not fight the urge to express my happiness,” Andrew said, cutting off Penelope’s stumbling explanation. Both ladies froze and stared at him. He met Lady Bienholm’s eyes and awaited her reaction. Would she be pleased? Furious he had not asked permission before proposing?
Will she throw me from her home?
At length, her lips stretched into a wide smile. Andrew blew out a relieved breath.
“This is too wonderful,” she declared, throwing her hands up before pouncing on her daughter to give her a tight hug. “Oh, my darling girl. I am so happy! This is such joyous news in light of such otherwise terrible circumstances.”
Penelope grinned as she returned her mother’s embrace. “We are quite pleased as well, My Lady.” However, when the two ladies broke apart, Penelope gazed at Lady Bienholm with a small frown. “Do you think Father will be pleased? We did not ask his permission first. It was a rather…spontaneous proposal.”
Lady Bienholm fluttered her fingers and replied, “Oh, do not worry about your father, my dear. I am positive he will be most receptive to this news, and if he is not, well, then I shall work on him to change his mind.”
She shot a wink toward Andrew, then returned her gaze to her daughter.
“This is a double relief,” she said, cupping Penelope’s chin. “I shall see you happy and settled with a fine gentleman, and this will go far to repair some of the damage that newspaper story will cause.”
A gleam of uncertainty entered Penelope’s eyes, and she glanced toward Andrew with a furrowed brow. He could practically read her thoughts as she stared at him.
Did you propose only to save my reputation?
He imagined that question running through her head over and over as her confidence in his intentions cracked. Stepping forward, he took her hands in his and did not break his eyes from her as he spoke.
“Do not misunderstand, sweetheart. Though your mother is correct, and this proposal will help salvage much of your reputation, that is not why I asked for your hand. I love you, truly and desperately. I want you to be mine. Forever.”
He did not care that he spoke so intimately to her in front of Lady Bienholm. Andrew needed Penelope to understand and to neither doubt herself or his love.
Just as he hoped, her gaze softened, and her worry vanished.
“Thank you, My Lord, for such reassurance,” she said in a soft voice. “I am sorry I questioned your motivations, even for a moment.”
“There is no need to apologize.” He grinned, squeezing her hand.
Lady Bienholm sighed, reminding him of her presence. She was smiling, her eyes shimmering with excitement.
“It is such a delight to see you two like this,” she gushed. “So happy and in love. What a marvelous pair you make.”
Gazing back down at his bride-to-be, Andrew could not agree with the lady more. He and Penelope were meant to be. Fated, he was sure. As long as they were together, all would turn out well.
Now, he just needed to convince his parents of that fact as well as, he imagined, the rest of society.
Chapter Thirty-Five
“There she is.”
“What nerve she has to show her face.”
“A total disgrace. And she has the gall to maintain her attachment to the Lockeder household.”
“For shame.”
Penelope’s face burned with humiliation as the whispers stabbed at her like little knives. She wished she had not left home today. Being out in public was proving a greater trial than even she had anticipated.
A gentle hand touched her arm, and she turned her gaze to meet Lady Dorothy’s sympathetic stare.
“Ignore them,” she whispered. “They are simply jealous. None of them would have the courage to pursue their passions as you do.”
Penelope offered the lady a grateful smile even as guilt stung her.
How could I ever have believed that Lady Dorothy was the one to spread my secret?
Over the past two weeks, as the story had grown bigger and spread all throughout London, Andrew and his sister had been constant and loyal allies to her and Harry. Though Penelope knew in doing so, they were defying their parents’ express wishes, and putting their own reputations at risk. She had never been so grateful to another person as she was to Lady Dorothy, or so sure of her love of Andrew.
Penelope had kept herself primarily contained to her home since the story had broken out in the hopes it would die down faster if no one saw her. There seemed to be no end in sight for the story’s popularity, however, and Lady Dorothy had finally insisted Penelope appear out about town with her. If the gossips saw her living her life as though nothing were the matter, perhaps they would lose interest in her?
While Penelope could see the logic in Lady Dorothy’s reasoning, it did not make the outing any less excruciating.
“They have very little to be jealous of, at present,” she murmured.
“Oh, do not speak like that,” Lady Dorothy said, hooking her arm through Penelope’s. “There is much for them to envy. You are beautiful, intelligent, a successful author…”
“Whose publishing house has suspended the printing of my novels indefinitely,” she grumbled.
“A temporary setback,” Lady Dorothy shrugged. “Lord Romwich conti
nues to advocate to the Duke on your behalf in that regard. You were the highest selling author the company maintained. The Duke is a shrewd businessman. He will see that excluding you will only hurt his overall profits.”
“I hope you are right,” Penelope sighed.
“Did you know that every one of your novels that has been printed has been sold?”
Penelope blinked at the lady in surprise. “No, I was not aware of that.”
Lady Dorothy nodded. “It seems this scandal has only made your popularity grow. Nowhere in London can you find a copy of either book in the bookstores. However, go into any house in which a lady of fine breeding resides, and you will find both.”
Lustful Memoirs 0f A Bewitching Lady (Steamy Historical Regency Romance) Page 24
