“I shall make certain he receives it.” Penny slid it into a pocket of her day dress.
After removing her outerwear and handing it off to the companion, Miss Lemmon collected Emma from Madam and settled in a chair. “My sister has no notion what an engaging story she’s missing.”
“Never fear, I shall loan her the volumes once we have finished.”
“Reading alone shan’t be the same, as we share every detail and discuss the story’s direction.”
“That is why I choose to remain here.” Penny situated herself at the writing desk next to the window, which provided ample natural light. Pulling out a sheet of paper and a penknife, she sliced a new edge on the first quill. “I do not wish to miss a word.”
Miss Lemmon opened the book and continued with Emma’s story. Miss Woodhouse insisted Mr. Knightley be invited to their family dinner, where she told him they should put their disagreement behind them and become friends once again.
There was no reason why Emma and her Mr. Knightley should not mend their friendship was the consensus. Soon after Miss Lemmon began to read, Penny’s interest in the story waned, and it wasn’t long before she found herself reflecting on the events of the prior evening.
She, of course, had become vexed with Mr. Cavanaugh for embellishing her likeness. Sketching her without her cap, then adding curl to her hair and a dimple to her cheek was the height of presumption. That was how she’d felt last night.
Today, however, Penny felt differently. David should not have done it. It was a silly thing. What bothered her was how intimate his actions had been.
He had been staring at her, studying her for quite some time in order to make the alterations. He really had no right to do so. David was not her husband, as he currently pretended, that he could take such liberties.
“I do most sincerely apologize,” he’d said just before Mrs. Sutton had returned with a tea tray. “No one shall look upon it, if that is what you wish.” David removed the sketch he had nearly completed from the wall and handed it to Penny to do as she pleased.
“Thank you,” Penny murmured. “I would rather no one see it.” She had been glad of his offer. The three of them sat to tea and remained quiet for the rest of the evening. Even after Penny had returned to her bedchamber she could not look upon the image. She kept it facedown upon the writing desk in her bedchamber and eventually consigned it to the top of the high dresser as if by placing it there she could hide it from the world.
Penny was certain she could, as Emma had Mr. Knightley, forgive David for his lapse, given enough time.
“Excuse me, ma’am. May I have a moment of your time, if you please?” David had waited in the breakfast room and specifically listened for Penny to descend the staircase. He knew to take particular care when addressing her, for they had not parted last night on the best of terms, and he so wished to make amends and have them go along in a comfortable way.
“Certainly, sir.” In her hands she held a sheet of paper, folded in an odd fashion as if it contained something. “Allow me to attend to this first, if you will.” She stepped from the corridor, and disappeared from the very same breakfast room whence he had just emerged.
David observed how lovely she appeared in a cornflower-blue dress. Even the lace cap, which he had so unceremoniously removed from her silhouette the night before, had embroidered flowers in the same blue color. Quite charming.
Seeing her now, the coolness with which she spoke, reminded David how much he regretted his behavior last night. She did not deserve to be treated in such a careless fashion, and he really was too old to behave in such a juvenile manner.
“Would you care for a walk in Gran’s rose garden?” he offered when Penny returned.
Her gaze darted about, and she appeared most anxious. “Is it—”
“No, no. Nothing is amiss.” He forced a smile, hoping it would reassure her. “It is only . . . Do you not think it a lovely afternoon for a turn about the garden?”
“Oh. I see. Very well then. We shall stroll outdoors if that is what you wish.” She moved down the corridor and walked toward the back of the house.
David fell in stride next to her, clasping his hands behind his back. He had to say something to make the both of them feel at ease. He had the urge to apologize again. Yet how could the dratted matter of the silhouette fade if he were continually bringing it to the surface? No, best let the subject remain unspoken.
“I went to the nursery to visit the children,” he managed, thinking that speaking of the children would be safe. “Is it my imagination, or do Davy and Lucy spend every afternoon at Manfred Place?”
“Well, not every afternoon. They do have the most entertaining diversions there, and Lucy and Davy rub along so well with the Pelfry children. I really do not have the heart to deny them.”
David sighed. “I’m all for having them enjoying themselves but, faith, I thought that I was to . . . you had quite convinced me I should make every effort to spend more time with them.”
“Yes, you did, and I am relieved to know you intend to keep your word. They had the most wonderful time with you. It is unfortunate they do not have a free afternoon.” Was that a bit of compassion creeping into her voice?
“I have, it has turns out, an inordinate amount of time on my hands.” He stated the concern that had recently come to light. “There are only so many times I can visit Gran—even I am limited. You would not think that to be true.”
“I should think you could call on her anytime you wished.”
“No, I must tell you, it is a struggle for me to have an audience with her. She still rests a great deal.”
“As she is regaining her strength,” Penny reminded him, justifying Gran’s position.
“—and is either with Dr. Harding’s sisters or Miss Lemmon, and then there are the occasional visits from her other friends who edge me out of her bedchamber if I should have the ill fortune of standing there.”
“That hardly seems right.” Penny’s confusion was clear, and she understood his grievance.
“It ain’t right! I’ve offered to read to her, just as you or Miss Lemmon might, but she won’t have it. She don’t think I can do the story justice is what she means. It’s because I’m not female.” David observed the corners of Penny’s lips turn upward as she tried to mask her smile. “I know she never meant it as an insult, but I cannot help but feel unwanted. I know she adores me, but really, why should she not allow me to read to her? The silly books were a gift from me in the first place!”
“I am certain it is not, in any way, a personal slight. She adores you, of course.” Penny brought her hand up to her mouth, doing her best not to give in to laughter, or at least, to try to mask it. “I beg your pardon. I cannot think why it seems so humorous. I know you can read, and I’m sure you can very well. It is just that you do not know the story or the characters,” she tried to explain to him. “How could you possibly discuss their actions and carry on an informed discussion?”
“I expect that is what she means. I’m sure Gran wants to know how Emma will wear her straw bonnet or if Lady Something-or-Other will serve dinner on the blue or gold china. Isn’t that what’s in those books?”
“Little you know.” Penny glanced down her nose at him. “And what do you say of Mr. Elton?”
“Who?”
“I can see why your grandmother does not care for you to read to her. You know nothing of the story. Oh, gracious!” Penny gasped as if suddenly recalling something. “Miss Lemmon brought a note from Sir Benjamin for you.” Rummaging among her skirts, she pulled the message from a pocket and held it out to him.
“I’m almost afraid to see what he has to say.” David retrieved the missive and, very reluctantly, broke the seal, opened it, and read the contents. “Well. That’s a relief.”
“What does Sir Benjamin have to say?” She gazed at him with interest.
“He suggests we go out hunting. I’m relieved that he partakes in traditional gentlemen’s activities.” This did not entirely amend David’s opinion of the baronet’s choice of hobbies. “And I had thought him a quiz.”
“There is something that will occupy your time!” She sounded pleased for him.
“He’ll have to supply me with a hunter, if we are to ride, and a firearm, but I expect he knows that already. We only have a few donkeys and not a single worthwhile hunting rifle in the house. Not that I know of, anyway.” Hunting while at the Willows would prove problematic. “I do believe Hendricks has packed the right clothes. Most likely I will be properly turned out for the occasion.”
“Of that I have no doubt,” she said in a playful tone.
“Do you consider me a dandy, by any chance?” David thought, perhaps, they might be returning to the easy conversation they had once shared.
“Not at all. It is only that in all the years I have known you, I have never seen you less than appropriately dressed for any situation.”
“That might be a compliment,” he said, wary of the repercussions that could follow. That she spoke kindly of him boded well.
“Possibly,” she replied.
He nodded and decided to accept it as such.
“When will you go?”
“Tuesday morning.”
“That’s the day of our dinner party.” Penny shrugged. “Sir Benjamin wrote this before we issued the invitation. He could not have known.”
“Perhaps we will hunt something to add to the table.” David wondered what their prey might be. “It’s a bit early for fowl. Perhaps he means to ride for venison or rabbit.”
“That would be—” Penny turned away from him to laugh.
“Exactly so.” There it was. Her laughter; it sounded like Victory to his ears. “You can surely imagine my relief when I read hunting. It don’t matter; as long as we ain’t collecting honey or grafting trees in the orchard.”
After dinner had been consumed that evening, the three regular participants departed together. Penny followed Mrs. Sutton out of the dining room to the small parlor where she would retire with her book. She paused before entering, noticing David, who trailed by some length, had not followed the ladies but continued down the corridor.
He would spend another evening alone doing who-knows-what.
She wondered but understood he had every right to spend his time in any fashion he chose. Truth be told, Penny did not wish another uncomfortable evening as last night had been. She rather looked forward to reading her book and retrieved her shawl from the chair where she had left it earlier, draping it around her shoulders before settling opposite Mrs. Sutton. Lifting her book from the table next to her chair, Penny could not help but be a bit curious as to David’s whereabouts.
She opened her book and paged back, reading a few paragraphs to remind herself what was happening in the story. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of David entering the room. Without a word, he proceeded past them and sat in a corner chair at the other end of the sofa, opening a large volume he had brought with him.
So he had decided to try his hand at reading. Penny focused her attention on her own story. Not two minutes had passed before a soft rumbling sounded, emanating from behind her. It had been an age since she’d heard that sound, and not from a husband quite as young as he.
“Oh dear,” Mrs. Sutton commented when a subsequent sonorous reverberation grew with a sudden snort in intensity.
“Oh dear, indeed.” Penny clutched at her shawl, drawing it tighter around her shoulders. “I wonder if we should wake him.”
Mrs. Sutton stared over her spectacles. “I don’t think we should—”
“What’s that, then?” David’s head jerked upright, and his eyelids flew open. “There’s no need to wake me. I am not sleeping.”
“I beg your pardon. I am mistaken,” Penny admitted without further argument, and with a mutual fleeting glance the ladies returned to their occupation.
For some ten minutes they continued to read in silence with only the crackling of the fire as background noise before the rumbling behind them returned. Penny turned in her chair to peer at the source.
David’s eyes were closed and his mouth open. There was no doubt he had fallen asleep.
With the continual drone, both Penny and Mrs. Sutton attempted to stifle their chuckles. The companion held her book to her lips. Her eyes creased into crescents with suppressed mirth. Penny pressed her lips together to prevent any sound from escaping. For the most part, they kept their composure.
“You two giggle as if you were a couple of schoolgirls,” David drawled with a sleepy tinge to his voice.
“If you wish to sleep, Master David, why do you not go to bed?” It was a struggle for Mrs. Sutton to speak without giving in to laughter.
“I was not sleeping. I was merely contemplating a passage I read.” It was a weak defense, and he did not sound at all convincing with his groggy reply.
“Do you always snore while you contemplate?” Penny bit back her own chuckle.
“I was not snoring.” He made an effort to straighten in his chair, which appeared to her further proof of his momentary slumber. David was stretching his muscles.
“It was very noisy contemplation, indeed, then.”
“I will not remove to my bedchamber before half past seven!” This last was said with strong conviction.
“Perhaps we should find you another book, sir.” Penny replaced her bookmark, ready to set her volume aside. “What is it you are reading?”
He glanced at the title and groaned. “Something about crop rotation.”
Mrs. Sutton made a sound somewhere between a choke and a gasp, then cleared her throat.
“Hardly a subject that would hold your interest, I think.” Penny’s only confirmation from him was a humph.
“There were hundreds of books in the library, and that was the one I chose.” He allowed the tome to close. “Ill luck, that.”
“You must admit he did try.” Mrs. Sutton attempted to restore his pride after poking fun at him. “This is the very first time I’ve seen him sit with a book after dinner.”
“Did you not read the spines first before making a selection?” Penny’s suggestion made good sense to him now. No, David had not bothered to peruse the shelves for an interesting title.
“Perhaps a travelogue or an historiography would be more interesting to you, Master David?”
“What is it you are reading, Mrs. Sutton?” He stood and approached the ladies, abandoning his book on a table.
“Sonnets by—” The companion was silenced by his soft groan.
“And you, Mrs. Cavanaugh, are you finding your selection entertaining?”
“I am,” Penny replied. “It is about a boy who is kidnapped by a smuggler and carried away from Scotland.”
“That sounds all right. May I see?” David held out his hand, appearing eager to take the novel. He settled upon the sofa, opened the book, flipped a few pages in, and leaned toward the light. “Introduction . . . oh bother, no need to read that.”
“But, sir, you cannot omit the . . .” Penny tried to advise him. “There are a great many details—”
“I’ll go back and read it if it matters.” He continued to flip through the pages.
“If it matters?” She had never heard anything so preposterous. How could he possibly be so dismissive? Penny drew in a deep breath to calm herself. “The author would not have written an introduction if one were not necessary.”
“Where is it? Where is it . . . Chapter one . . . chapter one . . .” He continued to search for what he thought was the beginning. “Ah, here we go.” David shifted his position on the sofa, settling himself for an extended period. Holding the book open before him with one hand, he rested his free arm across the back of the sofa
and began to read aloud.
He read with genuine feeling, painting the picture of the dismal setting Sir Walter Scott had described so well in the first few paragraphs. It must have been his soothing baritone and the realistic accents he used to convey the author’s words and distinguish each character.
By Mrs. Sutton’s expression, she so enjoyed listening it appeared she gave no further thought to her own sonnets and had allowed that book to rest on her lap.
Penny preferred David’s lively performance of Guy Mannering vastly more than reading it silently to herself. She reached for the basket containing her embroidery hoop to resume her needlework, which she usually reserved for the afternoons. The more David read, the more she understood that she would not be the only person following the adventures of Guy Mannering.
From that evening on, the three of them would gather there after dinner to hear David read another chapter or two. It would not surprise her if soon his grandmother joined them. No doubt after he had finished this novel she might agree to have him read Emma aloud to them, or perhaps that author’s next work.
Chapter Fourteen
Late Tuesday afternoon, the scheduled day of the Pelfry dinner party, Lady Pelfry and her sister, Miss Lemmon, arrived much earlier than expected to visit the rapidly improving Mrs. Cavanaugh. Sir Benjamin, they informed Penny, would be along shortly as he had been out hunting that morning with David.
“More visitors! I am prodigiously delighted you have taken the time to see me.” Grandmother Cavanaugh settled onto the settee in her bedchamber and motioned to her neighbors to approach.
“It has been an age since I’ve called.” Lady Pelfry neared and sounded rather embarrassed at her perceived neglect.
“Think nothing of it. I have had so much company these last few days, although I have dearly longed to see you. Only a quarter of an hour ago Dr. Harding stopped by.”
An Elaborate Hoax (A Gentlemen of Worth Book 5) Page 15
