“Ill? My brother, ill? He would never dare. The man works too hard to allow himself even a single day of illness.” Of course. It was Samuel.
Robert fell back into his chair and waited.
The study door flew open and Samuel entered, then bowed with a flourish. “Robert, I am informed you are not at all healthy.”
Robert glared at Samuel, opened his mouth to retort, when someone else walked into the room behind his brother and offered her curtsy. Penny had come with Samuel.
He practically jumped out of his chair, gaping at her. He hurried to tuck his handkerchief away, then came around the desk to make his bow. “Penny. Welcome.” She stood there, in a cream-colored gown and red shawl, a basket in hand, again a picturesque angel while he felt a sickly mess.
“Not a word of welcome for me, eh?” Samuel asked, smirking at Robert from the chair he had already claimed near the fire.
“I cannot say I blame him,” Penny said, meeting Robert’s gaze with a sympathetic smile. “If he does not feel well, then your yelling will hardly help matters.”
From the corner of Robert’s eye, he saw Samuel brush that concern aside. “We are come because he is ill. He ought to be thankful.”
Robert gave his full attention to Penny. “Is that why you are here? To look in on me?”
She came to his desk and settled the basket she held onto its surface. “That is one reason. I have brought you every concoction that the elder Mrs. Gilbert had available for the treatment of a winter illness. I thought she only enjoyed flower gardens, but she is quite an herbalist.” Penny tapped the basket with her hand. “You must be well by tomorrow, Robert.”
The sincerity with which she spoke lightened his heart considerably. Penny wanted him at the masque. Had thought of him with enough concern to procure him a basket of treatments and had come with even his horrid brother to pay Robert a visit.
“We have had our masque assignments,” Samuel said suddenly, and Penny immediately glowered at him. “Miss Clark says I am not supposed to tell you what my costume is, but as I hardly think anyone will care—”
“I am not telling mine,” Penny interrupted him, narrowing her eyes at Samuel.
With his still-aching head, Robert had no wish to enter into even a playful argument. But Penny. Penny had come to his house and stood in his study. He never thought to invite her to visit, but now that she stood in the middle of the room, he could not imagine her elsewhere.
What did he need to do to make certain she felt welcome? To keep her there as long as possible?
“Would you both care for some refreshment?” Robert asked, somewhat weakly. Did he even have ready refreshments for guests? A bachelor household rarely did. Especially one as small as his own.
Penny took over in her accommodating way. “Robert, you ought to rest. I did not come here to have you wait upon me. If you and Samuel will go into the parlor, I have already asked your housekeeper to lay the fire there. I will take this basket to the kitchen and return with sustenance for all of us.” She took up the basket again and gave him an expression that clearly warned him against arguing with her.
Then, she went from the room, head held high, as though she knew precisely what she was about.
Robert stared after her, unable to ascertain through the fog in his head what had happened. But Samuel was on his feet and came to Robert’s side, a sly grin on his face. “You heard the orders, Rob. Best do as she says.”
In somewhat of a daze, Robert followed his brother out of the room and down the corridor to the drawing room. “How did she come to hear of my illness? Or to be with you?” If he had the energy, he might be jealous. Or at least suspicious of Samuel’s influence in the visit.
“Miss Clark visited the Devons again yesterday, then she came straight to my door to inform me that my brother was ill and that I ought to look in on you. Then she invited herself to come with me.” Samuel took up a chair near the fire again, then pointed Robert to the couch. “You had best sit there, the better for Miss Clark to lavish attention upon you.”
“Lavish—? Do not be ridiculous, Sam.” Robert sneezed just as he sat down. “What are you going to be for the masque? I haven’t any idea how to dress for my part.”
“I am to be the personification of Courage. I’m planning to dress all in red with a sword at my side. What are you?”
Robert groaned. “Justice.”
“Ah, then you get a sword, too.” Samuel appeared pleased.
“What?” Robert rubbed at his temples with both hands. “I was thinking a wig and robe. Like in a courtroom.”
Samuel leaned forward in his chair and lowered his voice. “I happen to know that Miss Clark’s costume is a match for yours. Though I will not tell you what it is, respecting her wishes.” A wicked gleam appeared in Samuel’s eye. “But if you dress in a wig, you will not be fit to be seen with her.”
A match. So, Mrs. Devon had assigned Robert and Penny complimentary costumes. Most likely, her husband had put her up to it, given his insinuations that Robert felt more than friendship for Penny. But how did Samuel know anything about it?
“I am open to suggestions,” Robert said at last, trying to get comfortable in the corner of the couch. “A sword. Where have I seen Justice holding a sword?”
“In paintings, I would imagine.” Samuel stretched his legs out toward the fire, smugly satisfied with himself. “Are you still protesting your feelings for Miss Clark?”
Robert’s gaze moved from his brother to the fire, watching as its flames flickered and danced. He was tired of fighting his feelings for his friend. Tired of dwelling on lost dreams. “I have been thinking about what you said on New Year’s Eve.”
To his brother’s credit, Samuel did not immediately crow over the admission. Indeed, he went absolutely still and quiet. Waiting. It was completely unlike him to wait.
Since most of the work he had available in his home was less important and less complicated than his usual labor, Robert had been left without the ability to lose himself in the work of his estate. He had spent many hours dwelling on Penny. Their kiss at the Christmas ball. Running into her in the first place, and her excitement to see him. The near kiss in the hall. And every moment they had spent together in the more distant past.
“I need to do something. Say something.” Robert covered his eyes with one hand and released a frustrated breath. “But I cannot decide when, or how, or what to say.” Then he sneezed again.
“And you certainly do not want to sneeze in the midst of declaring your love,” Samuel put in most unhelpfully. Robert groaned and bent forward, covering his face with both hands. His brother laughed. “I have never seen you in such a state. You are usually calm in moments of crisis.”
“Those moments have never involved my heart before,” Robert muttered, rubbing his face before resting his chin in his hands. “Penny is in my kitchen at this moment, you realize. The most important place in the house to a woman. She is seeing everything. How poor I am. What I have to offer.”
A knock at the door made both brothers stand and turn to face it. Penny appeared, holding the door open for the housekeeper to enter with a large tray. “Here we are,” Penny sang out, a cheerful smile upon her face.
“She does not look disappointed to me,” Samuel muttered. Robert glared sharply at his brother.
Penny did not seem to notice, as she was directing the housekeeper on where to put the tray, all the while complimenting and thanking the servant in a way that had the middle-aged woman blushing and smiling.
That was good. The staff liked Penny.
When the housekeeper made her curtsy, Penny brought her spoils to the gentlemen. “A mug of broth to Robert,” she said, handing a steaming cup to him. “Mrs. Gilbert sent a whole jar over, promising if you had three cups today it would set you to rights.” Then, she served Samuel a plate of sandwiches and a cup of steaming cider. She placed another cup of cider at the table nearest Robert. “Yours has a few extra ingredients. Ginger. Echinacea. I
t ought to help.” Finally, she settled herself on the couch next to him, a small plate of sandwiches on her lap. “And now we can enjoy a lovely chat before Robert goes to nap.”
That made him pause in lifting the broth to his lips. “Nap? I am not in my dotage, Penny.”
“No, but you must rest in order to recover. I have left instructions on a tea for you to drink that will help you sleep.” She fixed him with a look warning him to listen. He was not certain what the consequences would be if he did not, but he had a vague idea he might not like them.
“Very well, Penny. Food and then rest.” Then he listened as she spoke, not about anything particularly important. But her voice was soothing in and of itself. The way her tone changed, and words lilted made his whole body relax. She spoke of her visit to the Devons the day before, of how much her aunt had enjoyed renewing her friendship with Mrs. Brody, and of her brothers. Samuel, thankfully, did most of the conversing with Penny. She did not seem to mind, though she made certain to include Robert by sending smiles in his direction now and again.
He admired her profile while she sipped at her cider, finding again how much he adored her. The tip of her nose turned up just slightly, her dimple appeared in one cheek when she smiled widely enough, and her eyelashes fluttered most becomingly when she laughed.
He could not let her go, now that he had her near again.
Robert needed to find a way to tell Penny he loved her and to ask for her love in return. Perhaps he could convince her to wed him. Samuel might be right. The wife of a steward might be better for her than being a teacher. Perhaps she would grow to love him, in time. Fondness could change to love, could it not?
“Robert?” Penny said, speaking his name as though she had already said it several times.
He blinked himself out of his thoughts, realizing he had nearly dozed off. Perhaps he did need that nap after all. “I must apologize. My mind wandered. What were you saying?” He kept his words and expression contrite.
Her eyes softened, and she leaned closer to lay her hand over his. The touch stirred his sleepy thoughts into a hazy desire for action. If only Samuel had fallen asleep or left the room.
“I asked if we ought to take our leave now. I can see without your answer that we must. I do hope you are better tomorrow, Robert.” She pressed his hand gently, and he slid his palm over to entangle his fingers with hers. Her eyes widened, very slightly, at the gesture.
“I wish you could stay longer,” he said, his voice low and the sentiment for her alone. “When you are near, I feel better than I ever have before.” It was not the most charming, nor most sophisticated flirtation. But it was the best his muddled, stuffy head could come up with in the moment.
Penny’s cheeks pinkened, but her eyes sparkled at him with delight. “Perhaps a little longer, then.” She glanced in Samuel’s direction. Somehow, Robert’s brother had turned tactful. He had somehow procured a book and sat with it in such a way that it blocked both Penny and Robert from his view. Penny’s eyebrows lifted, and Robert grinned.
Carefully, Robert lifted Penny’s hand to his lips. Her attention focused on him, her head tilting to one side. He kept his eyes on hers, praying a sneeze would not impede him and watching for any sign of objection. When she made none, he pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. She wasn’t wearing gloves. Perhaps she had removed them during her time in the kitchen. Her skin was warm and soft beneath his lips.
Her breathing stilled, her blush deepened. He held her gaze a long moment, then lowered their joined hands to rest between them. “Do you remember the last summer you lived here?” he asked, voice a soft murmur that might not carry to Samuel.
Penny took in a shaky breath before responding. “Of course. I was sixteen. Almost seventeen.”
“And I was nearly eighteen.” He ran his thumb across her knuckles. “The day before I left for school, by the pond. Do you remember that?”
With maidenly modesty, Penny lowered her eyes to her lap. “We were skipping rocks. I won that contest, you know.” She peeked at him from the corner of her eye and he chuckled. Not so modest, then.
“I almost asked you for something that day.” She recounted the rocks, but he remembered something different about their time by the pond. He had stood near her, his dearest friend, holding her hand almost as he did now. He had wanted to kiss her and had nearly asked if he might. The words had been upon his lips. But courage had failed him. They were so young. What if she had not felt the same? Perhaps at Christmas, he had told himself, he would try then. When he had released her hand and stepped away, Robert had thought Penny appeared disappointed. Later, he convinced himself he imagined her disappointment altogether.
“That same something,” she said, her voice almost a whisper, “that you asked for at the Christmas ball?” Her eyebrows raised, though she did not look at him directly.
Robert reached into his waistcoat pocket with his free hand and withdrew the silver berry. He held it out to her, the berry in the center of his palm. Penny glanced at his hand, then stared at it intently.
“The same thing,” he said. “But I had hoped with a different outcome.”
Penny raised her gaze slowly to his, and she studied him carefully. “Robert.” His name, spoken almost huskily, nearly ended his resolve to hold back. He could lean forward and kiss her, right there, and he felt certain she would allow it.
Samuel cleared his throat from behind his book, and Penny moved away, releasing his hand.
“I think we had better leave,” she said, voice raised. “Robert needs his rest.” Her cheeks remained bright red, and when she looked at him again, she smiled.
Robert rose to bid them both farewell, sliding the silver holly berry back into his pocket. Samuel rose and dropped the book upon his chair. He gave Robert a somewhat stern look. “You had better recover fully and be at the masque tomorrow.”
Penny had already left the room at a swift pace, doubtless to don her winter coat and gloves.
Perhaps she had indeed been disappointed by the pond years back. He did not want to fail her again. “I would not dare miss it,” Robert answered, spirits lighter than they had been in a very long time. Something told him he had a chance.
Chapter 16
Penny wrapped her knuckles lightly on the door of her aunt and uncle’s guestroom. A quiet murmur on the other side sounded like her uncle. She heard her aunt laugh, the sound light and joyful, before Aunt Elizabeth called, “Come in.”
Easing the door open enough to slip inside, Penny closed it again quickly behind her. The room her aunt and uncle had been given was larger than Penny’s, with a grander bed and wide window. The open curtains allowed the last fading light of day to seep into the room, the glow faint even though it was not yet the dinner hour.
Tonight, all over England, bonfires of green boughs and holly would burn as the last vestiges of the Twelve Days of Christmas were put away. People would celebrate in their villages and homes, even in the larger towns, and on the morrow attend church on the day of Epiphany. In another day or two after that, Penny and her family would return home.
“Penelope, you are absolutely stunning,” Uncle Matthew said, his chest puffing out proudly. “Does not our niece look well, my dear?” He wore a costume that reminded one of a soldier. He was meant to be Admiral Nelson.
Aunt Elizabeth turned from the table where she sat, obviously having completed her toilette a short time ago. She wore a tall powdered wig, a white and blue gown, and a small crown of silk flowers. She was to be Victory. She stood and approached her niece; her smile most approving.
“Oh, how lovely. I confess, I was not certain how one playing the part of Mercy must look, but I think you have done beautifully.”
Accompanying Penny’s costume assignment were the words of Shakespeare:
The quality of mercy is not strained.
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest:
It blesseth him that gives a
nd him that takes.
With some trepidation, she had chosen a simple white gown, the color of innocence, with a blue sash tied about her waist to indicate purity. It was a simple costume, but Mrs. Brody’s personal maid had more than made up for it with the painted mask on Penny’s face. A swatch of white and blue paint, like a streak smudged on a painting, went from one side of Penny’s face to the other, and small white paste gems had been artfully applied at the corners of each eye.
“Mercy sees with Heaven’s eyes, miss,” the artful maid had told her with a grin.
Blushing under her aunt and uncle’s praise, Penny twisted her fingers before her as they knew her to do. “I thank you. I hope I do not disappoint Mrs. Devon in my portrayal. Why she assigned such a role to me, I cannot guess.”
Her aunt and uncle exchanged amused smiles. “Did you wish to speak to us before we leave?” her aunt asked.
Penny nodded and came all the way to the center of the room. “I wanted to first thank you both, with my whole heart, for all that you have done for me in the last several years. You have treated my brothers and me as though we are your own children, though you already had your own sons to raise.”
Uncle Matthew took Aunt Elizabeth’s hand, and neither said a word, though they both appeared curious.
“I wish now to ask you—that is, I would like to know your thoughts on the subject—” She broke off, somewhat nervously, and lowered her eyes to the carpet as she tried to order her thoughts. She had rehearsed her words several times, but they had fled in this crucial moment. She had considered herself brave in showing up to Robert’s home unannounced and requiring his health restored. She searched for that bravery again. Without it, her wish would have been made in vain.
“Penelope,” Aunt Elizabeth said softly, “you can ask us anything.”
When Penny looked up again, her uncle gave an encouraging nod. She took in a shaky breath. “Thank you. I am not certain how best to explain myself. You see, since returning to this place where I grew up, renewing old acquaintances, I have reason to believe there is someone here, an honorable man, who may wish to marry me.”
Penny’s Yuletide Wish: A Branches of Love Novella Page 10
