In for a Penny

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In for a Penny Page 30

by Rose Lerner


  Louisa and Percy walked in; Nev devoutly hoped they had met on the stairs. Penelope picked up the jar of honey and began to demurely drizzle it onto a slice of toast, blushing only a little.

  Nev stifled a sigh. He supposed he had better get used to having company at the breakfast table; Louisa would be living with them, after all, and Percy would start eating with the family again. Nev wondered for a moment where Thirkell was, since he’d moved his things in last night, then remembered that he never woke early enough for breakfast.

  “Brioche!” Louisa exclaimed rapturously, and fell upon the spread. “Oh, Nate,” she said around a mouthful of brioche, “if you’re planning a daring raid on the jail to free the poachers, I want to come.”

  Nev closed his eyes.

  “Louisa,” Percy said.

  “ Nev?” Penelope asked. “What is she talking about?”

  “Nate told the poachers that if they helped him save you from Sir Jasper, he would free their families,” Louisa explained. “Thirkell told Percy.”

  “Sorry,” Percy said, shamefaced. This was going to be odd, knowing that everything he said to Percy might get back to his sister. But it also meant, Nev realized suddenly, that Percy would be family. Percy would be his brother. He had been so worried for Louisa that it hadn’t even occurred to him before. He grinned at Percy.

  Percy smiled back, looking startled but relieved.

  Nev looked around the table, at his wife and sister and best friend, and the happiness of the future that he hadn’t been able to imagine burst on him all at once, with interest. Ever since his father’s death it had seemed that if he did not fix things quickly enough, disaster would strike. Well, it had struck, and they had come out of it whole. He could see now that there was plenty of time. He wasn’t going to get himself shot. There were years and years, and he would learn how to be a big brother to Louisa again, a friend to Percy and Thirkell, a landlord to his people. A husband to Penelope. He was learning already.

  There was plenty of time to fix Loweston. It would be beautiful and prosperous and safe when he handed it over to his son.

  He would learn how to be a father. Penelope might already be carrying his child. Well, there was plenty of time to find that out too. Nev beamed.

  Penelope looked at him uncertainly, flushing. “You didn’t.”

  It took him a moment to remember what they were talking about. Right, his promise to the poachers. “Of course I did.”

  “Are you planning anything very rash?”

  “Something very rash indeed,” he told her. “There’s nothing for it. I shall have to become a justice of the peace and drop the charges. They should be out and back to their families in a couple of months at the latest.” True, he’d originally been planning something more in line with Louisa’s suggestion, but with Sir Jasper safely dead, this was a better way.

  “Oh, Nev, you’ll hate it.” Penelope’s eyes were bright.

  He smiled at her. “I expect I will. It will be dull and dreary and quite a lot of sitting around indoors doing paperwork. But I made a promise, and I don’t do things halfway.”

  She catapulted into his lap after all. “You reckless fool,” she said, and kissed him right there in front of everyone.

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to thank my editor, Leah Hultenschmidt, and my agent, Kevan Lyon, for liking this book and for all their guidance and support.

  I’d like to thank the members of the Demimonde: Karen Dobbins, Alyssa Fernandez, Vonnie Hughes, and especially Susan Wilbanks. Without you, I would never even have finished my first draft, let alone turned it into a book. Your encouragement, understanding, and thoughtful feedback have meant more to me than you can know.

  I’d like to thank all my friends who listened to me ramble on about this book, helped me brainstorm, and gave me their thoughts on earlier drafts. There’s too many of you to mention, but you know who you are. I’d also like to thank my online reading and writing friends-you guys are amazing!

  And finally, thanks go to my family, who told me that “writer” was a perfectly reasonable career goal.

  Rose Lerner

  ***

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