by Linda Wright
Penny forced herself to be polite as he handed her the book. “Thank you my Lord…” The naked majestic fingers ignored the dry ingratitude and gently took hold of her upper arm. Curious shoppers paused to watch the wife shopping Lord possessively lead a pretty woman wearing an old maid’s cap under her bonnet towards the door.
Elizabeth blushed as whispers erupted behind her as they passed. The door closed behind them and she hissed at the man beside her, “Remove your hand Sir.” The hand remained on her arm and steered her in the opposite direction of her cousin. “Is there something you wished to say; an apology perhaps for being a heartless swine?” Her cousin Sophia was glaring at her; Elizabeth could already hear the lecture on knowing her place.
“Penny, I tried to tell you before I left, but you wouldn’t open the door…”
“That’s a convenient excuse my Lord. What did you win; a penny?”
“I won Doodle’s lucky snuff box; it was his wager. I merely accepted…”
“That must make it acceptable to the inmates of Bedlam. It obviously didn’t occur to you, my Lord, that your theatric proposal might injure your victim. It’s bad enough I’ve been banished as Sophia’s free drudge; what if I’d fallen in love with you, you heartless cad?”
“Penny please…” The man actually sounded wounded by her words. He was clearly born for the stage. “I admit my first proposal was to win the wager, but the second was for me. I tried to convince you to come away with me remember?”
“Ah yes, the keyhole proposal; I’ll wager you a penny Cousin Reggie wept with laughter on hearing you’d risked the noose twice and survived a free man.”
“I haven’t told anyone about the second proposal…”
“How prudent; your future wife will never know you momentarily lost your mind and nearly wed a doomed old maid.”
“I understand you’re upset with me…”
“Upset? Because of your stupid wager I’m my cousin’s slave and if I manage to escape her household without being ravished by her husband I’ll be luckier than her previous companions.”
“I’m sorry…it was rather thoughtless, but you should have married me. I’ve tried to forget you, but I keep dreaming that I’ve kidnapped you and carried you off to Gretna Green. When I wake up and find it isn’t true I feel miserable. Marry me. Be my lucky Penny.”
The man might smell pleasant, but he was still insane. “You’ve proposed over a dinner table, through a door and now on the street. What next; through a window? Or will the young lady you actually wish to wed get a private tête a tête without an audience?”
“Penny, I’ve thought about you every day…”
“Touching; you must have a conscience.”
“I can’t get you out of my mind…”
“It must be torture.”
“Penny I want to marry you.”
“What?”
“I want to marry you. Today…if you’re amenable?”
“You’re insane, but you do scrub up rather nicely.”
“Do I?” The man’s eyes lit up with hope as his fingers boldly caressed her arm. “I long to be your Lord. The thought of kissing you makes me feel…happy.”
“If that’s true, then you’ll use your theatrical talents to persuade me that marriage to a lunatic would be better than marrying a desperate fortune hunter.”
“You won’t marry me tomorrow morning?” The man was such a good actor he even sounded disappointed.
“No. You may call on me and persuade me of your sincerity over time like any other normal suitor, if there is such a thing.”
“May I see you without that hideous old maid’s cap?”
“You’ll be lucky.”
“I am Lucky…that’s what my friends call me. How much time do I have to persuade you to be my Lady?” His wink seemed to punctuate the fact he was going to have his way by hook or crook.
“You have until I decide to marry someone else. Are you going to return me to my vile cousin or kidnap me from the High Street?” The man sighed as if it was a difficult choice and reluctantly removed his hand and followed her back to the glaring Sophia.
Lady Sophia’s lips twisted with wrath, “I hope you enjoyed your public tête a tête while I froze to death waiting for you. Did you find me a book to read?”
Elizabeth handed over the wrapped book. “The shopkeeper wouldn’t give an exchange. Lord Devonshire paid for it.”
“That was very kind of you my Lord.” Unwrapping the paper she tutted in disappointment that she couldn’t send Elizabeth back into the shop, “It’ll do. Perhaps you’ll allow me to thank you by inviting you to dinner this evening Lord Devonshire?”
“It would be a pleasure my Lady.” He bowed over Sophia’s hand and then lifted his hat to Elizabeth. “Miss Penny.” Pulling his glove back on he walked away with a jaunty spring in his step.
Lady Sophia eyed her cousin with envy. “Why does he call you Penny?”
“I suspect he doesn’t like the name Elizabeth.”
“I’ve heard he collects pennies. The man’s an eccentric; they say he always chews his food twenty times before swallowing. I’ve also heard his last mistress gave him the boot and you’d never guess why.”
“Because he was too amorously thorough.”
“Who told you that?”
“Lord Devonshire, at the dinner table in front of your parents barely two minutes before he asked me to marry him.”
“No?” Sophia’s eyes gleamed with horrified delight. “What else did he say?”
Elizabeth had no desire to give her cousin any extra gossip that might wound her unwanted suitor. She ignored the illogic of her kindness. If she wanted to hurt the man she’d scratch out his eyes. It would be kinder than feeding the gossip mill. “I can’t remember; it was all rather horrific.”
Sophia’s scowl outlined her displeasure. “Humph…still, you were a fool to refuse him. I’d have married him by special license even if he did stink. I understand he’s exceedingly generous to his dependents even if he does hate wasting money; you could have been a wealthy countess.” The thought appeared to make her grimace with horror. “Well perhaps it’s for the best you refused Lord Devonshire. Being a Lady requires an ability to discriminate between how one addresses a Duchess whose Lord descends from a King’s bastard or a Duchess whose Duke, like Marlborough, merely won royal approval and treat them accordingly. The art of social interaction is complex and requires a finesse you’d never understand.”
“I suppose not, but then I’m unlikely to need it.”
“No. Why would any man want you? You’re past your prime. Lord Devonshire needs an eighteen year old debutante who can breed a large brood.” Sophia nodded as if agreeing with herself. “Whoever he marries will suffer endless confinements. I’ve heard he’s keen to produce half a dozen before he turns thirty. I should introduce him to several young things I met recently. They won’t notice his eccentricities until they’re chained to his bed. It’s best not to know anything about one’s husband. I certainly didn’t know anything and look how happy I am. And to think he almost married you. My Lord Llewellyn is heartily relieved he married me and says so every morning. My husband didn’t need to marry beauty; he values me for my finer qualities.” Elizabeth glanced at her cousin and buried her hands farther into her muff. If her cousin was happy wallowing in self-delusion there was no point trying to burst the fantasy. “I think I’ll invite several young ladies to dinner this evening. Wouldn’t it be diverting if I married off Lord Devonshire to some wide eyed innocent before Christmas?”
“Very.”
“Where’s the footman? I’m not carrying this stupid book all the way home.”
“He’s right behind us.”
“Here you carry it. You don’t need to protect your hands from the cold. No one cares what you look like.” Elizabeth took the book as she imagined her cousin’s reaction on finding Elizabeth had run away to marry the eccentric Lord Devonshire.”
“What are you smiling abo
ut?”
“I was just remembering something Lord Devonshire said. The man’s insane.”
“What did he say?”
“He said his friend’s call him Lucky.”
“How does that make him insane?”
“He doesn’t seem very lucky to me.”
Sophia tutted in contempt, “The man escaped being tied to you. I’d say that makes him lucky.”
“True, I wouldn’t want to be tied to me.”
“Don’t talk to me. I need to choose the guest list and decide what to serve each course. If I could persuade the Duke of Strathmore to attend my dinner it would be the talk of the town.” Elizabeth had an awful feeling her cousin was going to ensure Elizabeth’s ill-luck became Bath’s latest on-dit, but it didn’t seem to matter. The horizon suddenly glimmered with hope that Providence was about to deliver some happiness.
Chapter 7
James winced in irritation as a burst of laughter combined with the soft chink of silverware on ceramic plates momentarily deafened him to the conversation opposite. Instead of enjoying dinner with his lucky Penny he was sat between two pretty girls who appeared to have only one brain between them. They cheerfully accepted his mumbled noises as conversation as he strained to hear the beautiful widowed Duke of Strathmore practice his legendary charm on Elizabeth. James sneered as the Duke glanced at him with a faint smile. Strathmore looked like a terrier who’d found a rat for his evening’s entertainment; a terrier who’d be curling up in front of the fire with a full stomach.
James had unwittingly made an enemy of the Duke by winning the man’s carriage in a game of cards. Ever since that ill-fated game the Duke of Strathmore had inexplicably gone out of his way to make James’s life hell. As fate would have it, sometimes good luck was really bad luck wearing a tawdry wig and a thick layer of face paint. James knew that faint smile meant the older man was about to give James a verbal kicking. The temptation to throw his plate at the Duke’s head was overcome; he’d be damned by the ton as an intolerable bore and Strathmore would win.
There was nothing to do but ride out the storm and hope Penny wouldn’t despise him at the end of it. She’d only glanced eleven times in his direction. The number was all wrong. It needed to be an even number. He willed her to look at him and end the excruciating anxiety. If she looked at him one more time he could swallow without choking, but Strathmore’s hypnotic voice appeared to hold her spellbound. She looked like she’d jump off a bridge if the Duke asked her to. James was relieved when several noisy guests were abruptly silenced by the act of stuffing their faces allowing him to hear Elizabeth ask, “…why do you call him Pinhead?” James’s face burst into flames as he mentally cursed Strathmore to eternal unrest for poisoning Penny’s mind with the hated label.
The whole table could now clearly hear the Duke say, “A few years ago Lord Mulgrave, on a dare, gave Lord Devonshire a handful of pins and offered him ten thousand pounds to throw the pins into the street uncounted. Devonshire couldn’t drop them. He pinned them onto his coat sleeve in groups of three at one-fourth of an inch apart and found to his dismay that the end number wasn’t pleasing. He went straight to the nearest dressmaker and bought a single pin like a drunk desperately licking the dregs of the bottle. He probably took them home and arranged them in one of his drawers. I understand he has walls of drawers constructed for his counted collections. He’s exceedingly thorough. He’s a pinhead.”
The dim beauty sitting on James’s left tilted her ear towards Strathmore. “I don’t think Lord Devonshire looks anything like a pin. I think he’s quite handsome.”
Strathmore’s eyes lit up with amusement, “My dear child, I commend you for attempting to swell his head. As his hatter knows, it’s greatly in need of swelling.”
James glared at Strathmore as the older man raised his eyebrows silently daring his prey to defend himself. Having won a twelfth glance from his lucky Penny, James could finally swallow in relief. “You’re so amusing Your Grace. It’s a pity we can’t somehow make an audible record of it for posterity, but perhaps your wit might lose something in translation. They might assume you were merely cruel and therefore a bore.” James flushed with pleasure as Penny’s eyes lit up with approval. He felt like he’d slayed a dragon.
The Duke appeared unmoved. “It’s true; wit lives and dies in its own day, but that’s such a boring topic of conversation. I’d much rather hear how you, a handsome wealthy bore I mean Lord, persuaded this pretty woman to reject your hand in marriage. You must have unfathomed depths.”
James felt twelve pairs of eyes pin him to his seat. One day he’d just throw his plate at the man’s head. “It’s true I accepted a wager to court and be rejected by Miss Morgan…”
A female voice down the table gasped, “How rude! The poor woman must have been mortified.”
James scowled down the table. “...and I’m heartily glad I accepted the wager as I wouldn’t otherwise have met Miss Penny and that would have been extremely unlucky.”
Strathmore raised a single eyebrow, “Is it true you proposed at the dining table? Perhaps you’d care to re-enact the scene; I for one would be vastly amused.”
“I’m sure you would, but spare a thought for the lady sitting next to you who will now be viewed like a shrunken head in a curiosity shop for rejecting me.”
The dim beauty at James’s right elbow tilted her head in confusion. “How do you get Penny from Elizabeth? I’d call her Prissy or Cilla or Pussy...”
Strathmore turned in his chair to face Elizabeth, “I apologise if my curiosity has caused you discomfort Miss Morgan. Not many women would have turned down an opportunity to be a Countess; you must be eminently sensible. I myself have decided its time to find a wife. I fear having only one son creates a need to inflict childbed on another female. I’ve been looking to find a sensible woman who could compliment my insensibilities. Why don’t you marry me?” James gasped in horror along with the rest of the table. The luxurious throbbing was instantly transformed into a painful throbbing that threatened to explode his heart. He was about to throw his plate at Strathmore’s head when he noticed that Penny was looking at the Duke as if the man had asked to her take off her clothes and dance naked on the table.
“I’m afraid I don’t find that amusing Your Grace.”
“There was no amusement intended Madam. Marry me; be my Duchess.”
James heaved a sigh of relief as Penny’s face contorted into disbelief. “Why would you want to marry me? I’m a complete stranger.”
“Why not? You’re pleasing on the eyes and obviously sensible. My parents met at the altar; at least I get to choose my bride.”
“I’m honoured by your offer Your Grace, but I can’t marry you.”
“Why not?” It was a nonchalant question.
“Because it wouldn’t be sensible. One can’t meet a man at dinner, marry him the next day and expect life to unfold any happiness.”
“My dear, life has so little happiness that it’s barely worth unfolding. Marry me and all your earthly cares will be null and void. I’ve been told I’m not intolerable to live with though most of my houses are so large that you could conceivably avoid me from sun up to sun down. As for those briefly shared moments of the day, I have very pretty manners and I’m obviously not unpleasant to look at; I’d wager you’d be content.”
“I’m honoured by your offer, but I can’t marry you.”
James gnashed his teeth in mute horror as Strathmore reached out and touched Penny’s face. “Eminently sensible my dear; I wouldn’t marry me either.” The older man half swivelled facing James as if nothing outlandish had occurred. “I wonder if proposing á la table will become the next silly craze. I can’t say I was the first, but perhaps it’s best to leave such honours to a pinhead…” James wasn’t listening. He was watching Penny’s eyes flutter around her plate as if unable to settle. His lungs filled with air as she looked up at him. He had the distinct impression she was smiling even though there was no obvious upward
turn to her lips. His wink caused her cheeks to surge with a glorious colour that made him feel like dancing. Penny had just turned down one of the most eligible bachelors in the Kingdom; the luxurious throbbing pulsed victoriously through his veins. Was he imagining it, or did Penny prefer a nose picking Earl over an impeccable Duke? Since walking away from her chamber door he’d spent a lot of time imaging things. Every other day he’d fluctuate between wanting to kidnapping Penny and checking himself into Bedlam; his two halves refused to compromise, threatening his once pleasant life with the agony of eternal seesaw. His feelings made no sense, but his lucky encounter with her horrid cousin had resolved the issue. Turning to find Penny staring up at him with kissable lips parted in amazement, the seesaw had landed with a bump on the side that demanded he marry her immediately.
