Julia nodded, rising as well. “I shall invite the lady to tea either later today or on the ‘morrow. I shall do my best to remain close to her in the way only another woman can. She has few friends and, if Harry is correct and I’ve no doubt that he is, she is alone in Town. Perhaps, in time, if she comes to trust me, she will reveal some of her secrets to me as well.”
Nick, however, shook his head, suddenly every inch the Bloody Duke that he was rumored to be. “She won’t. Not if she is terrified of her uncle.” He paused. “Though she might reveal herself to a potential lover. Someone that she thinks might be able to protect her. Especially if she is not truly enamored of Fullbridge. Which I suspect she is not. I’m not even sure she’s even met Phin. If she has, I rather doubt she would be angling for the position of his wife. I’ve yet to meet a woman who truly wishes to take on that challenge.”
“What fool will you find to play the role of Lady Penny’s potential lover?” Harry scoffed as he did his best to tamp down the rising panic in his chest. Not to mention a twinge of jealousy as well. “I have met Lady Penny, Nick, and we would do well not to underestimate her. She is no one’s fool and will see though a hastily constructed plot rather quickly.”
When the duke smiled this time, a cold chill ran through Harry. He recognized that smile. It was a smile that said someone was about to have the proverbial rug yanked out from under them. “Why I would suggest the man right in front of me. A man uniquely suited to subterfuge, as he is a famous Bow Street Runner. And a man already linked to the lady, at least by this morning’s gossip rags.”
“No!” Harry could not state that firmly enough, but he took a step back and away from Nick’s desk for good measure. “Absolutely not! That would be a terrible idea!”
“Why?” Now it was Nick’s turn to be the epitome of smooth charm. “She knows you, Harry. You have danced together and you are already in the door with the lady, so to speak, as far as the investigation goes. To introduce her to another Runner now would be foolish.”
Julia tapped her chin in consideration. It was generally a bad sign when she did not immediately disagree with her brother. “Lady Penny did seem to like you well enough, Harry. She even mentioned you by name last night after you departed.”
“I am surprised she even remembered my name.” Harry could not go near the woman again. Yes, he was investigating her, but he preferred to do it from a distance. Where it was nice and safe. Where she would not make his blood heat and his cock stiffen simply by breathing.
“Come now, Harry,” Nick chided gently, a knowing smile on his face. “You are not afraid of the chit, are you?”
“Absolutely not!” Because he wasn’t! Really, he wasn’t. At least not so very much.
He simply didn’t like the way she could tie him in knots with a single glance after only one meeting. Which was a perfectly reasonable fear. Wasn’t it?
Julia shook her head in annoyance. “It is not as if she is a threat to you, Harry. You are not the man she is seeking to wed. She can’t hurt you, for Heaven’s sake!”
“Or,” Nick said slowly as he studied Harry, his penetrating glance seeing far too much, “perhaps she can. That’s it, isn’t it, Harry? She can hurt you, or at least you fear she can if given the chance. That’s what you’re afraid of, isn’t it?”
Beneath his shirt collar, Harry broke out into a sweat. Only Nick could make him do that. Normally, he was unflappable. Except around Nick. And perhaps Lady Penny. “Isn’t what?”
“She makes you feel, doesn’t she?” Nick pinned Harry with his dark gaze. “You danced with her and you felt something, didn’t you? The infamous, passionless, yet supremely confident and sophisticated Harry Greer finally felt something a bit more than mild physical interest in a woman. That’s it, isn’t it? And you’re afraid of feeling.”
“I am not!” Harry retorted hotly, wishing he could turn and flee, though he refused to appear weak in front of his friends. “I am not afraid.”
“Then charm her, Harry,” Julia chimed in. “It can’t be that hard, can it?”
Actually, it could be, though Harry would never tell Julia so. For the most part, Harry liked the women he dallied with, including Dory. But he didn’t love them. Actually, when it came right down to it, he barely felt more than mild affection for any of them, save for Dory. With her, he had done his best to convince himself that he loved her, after all.
He had learned long ago that love led to disaster. His mother had loved her employer and look where it had gotten her – and Harry, in the process as well. No, love was dangerous and it was better for everyone, but especially for Harry himself, if he didn’t love any woman. Ever. At least as anything more than a friend.
However, last night when Harry had taken Penny in his arms, something inside of him had ignited. Something he hadn’t known he was capable of feeling any longer had flared up inside of him – pure, raw lust. For a man as tightly controlled as Harry, that terrified him down to the depths of his soul.
But he couldn’t let either Julia or, most especially Nick, know the truth. He would never hear the end of it. Especially when Lady Penny was gone from London.
So he had to do this. He had to take on Nick’s challenge, whether he wanted to or not.
“Very well.” Harry drew himself up to his full height so he now stood taller than Nick – but only by a very little. “I shall pay court to the chit. Or pay her attention or whatever you wish to call it. I shall also use my ‘famous charm’ as you both so quaintly put it, to extract information out of her.”
Nick smiled. “That’s very noble of you, Harry. Sacrificing yourself for the good of all and that sort of thing. I’d do the same myself if not for Eliza.” Harry didn’t doubt that for a moment. “Now, I have just the idea to get you started…”
“I’ll just bet you do,” Harry grumbled beneath his breath as Nick pulled him over to the desk where he quickly began sketching out ideas for Harry’s pursuit of Lady Penny. “I’ll just bet you do.”
Chapter Five
Standing in front of Madame LaVallier’s tasteful Bond Street shop, Penny wondered if she had the strength to go through the doors and face the most famous modiste in London. A modiste who was notorious for judging those she did not deem worthy to enter her shop but did so anyway, mostly out of foolish pride. Because right now, if Penny had a choice, she would have much preferred to hurry back into her rented coach and have the driver take her far, far away from here. Someplace where they did not read The Town Tattler.
Penny had risen late that morning, her late-night chat with Janie leaving her more tired than she had realized. Then, after a quick breakfast, she had dressed for the day and gone out to pay visits to the shops along Bond Street, hoping to place more orders for gowns, fripperies, and other things “a woman in pursuit of a husband might need.”
All in order to keep up appearances – and deceive Harry – of course.
The express letter that had arrived from her uncle that morning had been very explicit regarding his expectations for her. According to him, she was moving too slowly. She needed to do more to entice Phin into her bed – something exceptionally difficult to do when the man wasn’t even in town. However, according to her uncle, if that meant spending more coin on things such as daringly low-cut gowns, then so be it. So long as she did not go over her budget, of course.
The tone and direction of Uncle Charles’ letter indicated that he was unaware of Lord Fullbridge’s absence from London. Meaning that he likely was only reading papers like the Times or the London Daily. Otherwise, he would have known that Lord Fullbridge was still in the country. The Times had erroneously printed the story about him attending Lady Covington’s affair last evening while other papers, including as The Town Tattler, had reported correctly that the duke was still rusticating in the country. Which bought Penny just a little more time to figure out a way to extract herself from this mess. If such a thing was even possible now.
Especially now with Harry Greer watching
her every move. After last evening, she had no doubt that he was doing just that. Even if she couldn’t see him.
Penny had been mulling over exactly what to do about her situation when Janie, who had somehow inexplicably taken over the general running of the household from Mrs. Handly in the overnight hours, had come up with a suggestion. If Penny wished for her uncle to believe that she was following his orders and not flirting with Harry or anyone else for that matter, then the best way to go about it was to somehow snare herself a mention in the Times’ gossip section doing something very specific. Something her uncle would approve of and could, at least in his own mind, link back to his plan for Penny to wed the duke. And Janie just happened to know that a reporter for the Times was interviewing Madame LaVallier that very morning regarding the history of her modiste’s shop for an upcoming article.
So before Penny could utter as much as a peep of protest, Janie had Penny pressed, dressed, and out the door with a lowly scullery made masquerading as a lady’s maid since the Gray Lady that Janie had requested from Lady Berkshire had not arrived yet. Janie had also sent several of the house boys out to “drop fleas in the ears” of several other houseboys in the neighborhood that hinted that Penny was increasing her pursuit of “a special someone” and that they were free to spread the gossip.
It would be gauche, Janie insisted, if Lord Fullbridge was mentioned by name. Rather, the maid felt that as long as Lord Telford simply believed that Penny was in hot pursuit of the duke, even if the papers he read did not explicitly say as much, he would leave her be, as he likely didn’t wish to tip his hand too soon.
Janie had also pointed out that would leave Penny free to pursue one Mr. Harry Greer if she wished. In the maid’s opinion, the Runner was the much better choice for a husband, even if he wasn’t a peer – yet.
At the time, Penny hadn’t been clear-headed enough to ask herself how a lady’s maid knew all of this information or how she had been clever enough to plan such a thing. However, as Penny’s carriage rolled up on Madame LaVallier’s shop just as the Times’ reporter was departing – allowing Penny the chance to offer the man a cordial greeting as well as drop a hint that she was in Town to secure a “special someone” as her husband – Penny did begin to wonder.
Perhaps the maid was far more well-connected to the comings and goings of the ton than Penny realized. Or perhaps servants gossiped more in London than they did elsewhere. But that much gossip? So much so that a lowly maid knew almost everything about Penny’s evening with Harry? Knowing that her waltz with Harry last night went against her uncle’s explicit instructions to pursue Fullbridge? Knowing the details of the previous evening to the point where that same maid felt compelled to assist Penny in further deceiving her uncle in such a blatant manner? Even though Penny had, in fact, shared some but not all of that information with Janie?
It made no sense. It simply didn’t. And that bothered Penny. Quite a lot.
As the footman helped Penny down from the carriage, her mind continued to whirl, struggling to put the pieces together. None of it made any sense. Not a bit. Until she paused in front of Madame LaVallier’s shop in an attempt to gather her wits and calm her mind.
For it was then that she caught a glimpse of the front page of The Town Tattler, the paper clutched tightly in the hands of a passer-by. And then Penny knew. And once more, her mind was a riot of random thoughts and nearly paralyzing fears.
There, in Lady A’s infamous “best of the best” gossip column was Penny’s name, and it was linked with Harry Greer’s.
Of course it was. Because the bloody annoying man was likely behind the entire story. Probably so that he could use the article as an opening to somehow ferret out her secrets and uncover her uncle’s plot against Lord Fullbridge.
Penny would not put it past Harry to do such a thing. Nor would she put it past him to somehow infiltrate her staff. Or rather Lord Willfield’s staff. Including Janie, which might explain how the maid knew so much. Then again, for all Penny knew, Harry and the staff at Willfield House were the closest of friends, and they reported back to him daily regarding her activities. After all, they were all a part of this world while she was merely an interloper.
Now, though, all of London, including Madame LaVallier, would believe that Penny was currently dangling after the most notorious bachelor in London – and a man who, until recently, had been all but betrothed – at least in the papers anyway – to Lady Dorothy Tillsbury.
The only way this could be any worse was if Uncle Charles found out! However, he didn’t read the Tattler, and as far as Penny knew, neither did Viscount Westerly. That was her only saving grace at the moment.
Still, as she stood in front of the modiste’s shop after speaking with the reporter, Penny could almost feel the people on the sidewalks stopping to stare at her. People paused briefly as they strolled past her. Because unlike her uncle, these people obviously read the Tattler and likely wondered who was this upstart chit who dared to sweep into Town and attempt to snatch Harry (she could not think of him as Mr. Greer after last night, at least in her own mind) away from the much-beloved Lady Dory?
Penny hated this. Every single moment of it.
She hated being talked about and whispered about. She hated having people wonder what she had done, or in some cases not done, to merit her inclusion in the gossip sheets. She hated people prying into her business. She was, in general, a very private person and this gossip felt like an intrusion of the worst sort into her life.
Penny had endured this sort of gossip before, back in Cumbria when she had first emerged from the wretched boarding school where she had been banished by her uncle for so many years. She had hated every second of being scrutinized as she endured dress fittings and shopping excursions with Josephine. Penny had also known this sort of gossip would happen again when she reached London. But she had assumed it would be in connection with the duke and not a Runner. And she still hated every second of it. Even if she was now linked to Harry and not the Duke of Fullbridge.
“Lady Penny.” Even after only one night, she would know that silken yet somehow still slightly husky voice anywhere. And, of course, it would be him. Who else would it be? Still, she refused to allow him to rattle her again. “How fortuitous running into you here.”
Despite every bit of social training she had ever endured, Penny whirled on the voice in a flurry of pale pink skirts and white ribbons, her fists clenched in anger and at odds with the light and airy day dress she wore.
“You! You did this!” she hissed angrily. “You are the one who made certain that infernal article was included in this morning’s paper!”
Harry looked at her in what could only be described as mild amusement and Penny’s anger flared anew. How dare he act as if he was not responsible for the gossip swirling around her? Around them! And how dare he appear even more handsome this morning than he had last evening, his breeches clinging to his muscular thighs as if they were a second skin and his morning jacket cut so perfectly that there was little doubt about the impressive width of his shoulders?
“What have I done, my lady?” Though his blue eyes twinkled with merriment, Penny could see a hint of something else there as well. Could it possibly be embarrassment? “If you are speaking of the Tattler article, please know that I was just as shocked as you were this morning. As a Runner, I do my best to shun appearing on the gossip pages as much as possible.”
Strangely enough, Penny believed him and her anger cooled a fraction. “So you were not responsible for Lady A writing that ridiculous story about us possibly courting?”
Could she have been wrong? Penny knew she was occasionally impetuous but she was usually not so quick to jump to conclusions. At least not like this. After all, what proof did she have that Harry was connected to the article? None. Just because he was mentioned in it as well did not mean anything. After all, they had been seen together by a ballroom full of guests, any of whom might have been Lady A.
Just because Penny w
as convinced Harry was out to uncover her secrets, that did not mean he actually was. All of this could simply be a product of her overactive imagination.
Harry shook his head and looked fairly contrite. “I swear to you on my honor as a Runner, I did not put that story there. In fact, I am just as appalled as you are.”
“And Lady Dory?” It hurt to ask, oddly enough, but Penny had to know.
“She and I are not courting, despite what the gossip rags say.” Somehow, Penny knew Harry was being completely truthful with her just then. “We are friends and have been for some time, but we have no eye toward marriage. In fact, I have been led to believe just this morning that Lady Dory fancies another and wishes to wed him. Not me.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “So am I forgiven for something I did not do? For I do rather like you, Lady Penny, and hope that we might at least be cordial. I fear it will make moving within the same circles rather difficult if we are not.”
Penny felt her face blush scarlet with shame. She knew better than this! What an utter fool she was being! “My apologies, Mr. Greer. I fear that I am a bit out of sorts this morning. It is simply that I do not wish to be the subject of gossip connected to anyone. Particularly a specific gentleman. Not even you, kind and gracious as you are, sir. It is nothing personal and I hope that you believe me.”
At that, Penny wished the earth would simply open up and swallow her. She was making an utter mess of things. She only hoped that Harry did believe her. Just as she had asked.
“I would never dream of such a thing,” Harry finally reassured her and Penny felt herself relax a bit. “I also understand, for I have the same fear myself.”
A Lady for the Taking Page 8
