Mr. Brody bowed and then made the necessary introductions. “My lord, my lady, might I present our dear friends Mr. and Mrs. Matthew Marham, and their niece, Miss Penelope Clark.” After bows and curtsies were exchanged, the countess gestured to the young man at her side.
“Miss Clark, allow me to introduce my son, Phillip, Baron Heatherton. He is taking a brief respite from his studies at Oxford.” Phillip, likely several years Penny’s junior, made a proper bow and engaged her in conversation while the married couples exchanged pleasantries. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Clark. Are you familiar with our part of the country?”
“I am. I lived here, as a matter of fact, until seven years ago. My family leased Glennwood for several years.”
“Ah, that would put you quite out of my set, then.” He offered her a charming smile, obviously meaning no disrespect. “I was a schoolboy when your family lived here. It is a pleasure to meet you on a more even ground now. Would you grant me the privilege of saving me a dance, Miss Clark? I should like to hear about where you have been since leaving Annesbury.”
The boy had perfect manners. “I would be honored, my lord.”
“The honor is mine.” He bowed again, at the same moment her uncle and aunt moved away toward the ballroom. She curtsied and took her leave, gripping the fan hanging at her wrist tightly enough that it creaked in her grasp.
As silly as it might be, Penny anticipated Robert’s expression when he saw her with curiosity. Would he think her pretty? Of course, it would not matter if Penny happened to see him with a wife upon his arm. She had never found a way to ask if the Devon steward had married or remained unattached. They were only friends. Yet the thought of a woman upon his arm, a woman with the privilege of belonging to Robert, made her remember the keen feeling of jealously she had experienced years ago, when Robert had walked another young lady home from church. The fact that the memory, along with the emotion, came back without warning made something inside her tighten most unpleasantly.
Try as she might, putting that memory away took several moments of concentration.
The earl’s grand estate boasted a dedicated ballroom, with a balcony full of musicians tuning their instruments. The dancing had not begun, though the room was filled to bursting with people dressed in their finest attire, and everywhere Penny looked she saw the decor had been chosen quite obviously with a winter theme in mind. The floor had been chalked with snowflakes of silver and blue, and ribbons in matching colors were tied and looped around every column. Green boughs and wreaths covered the walls with ice-blue ribbons and silver bells adorning them. There was even a tree at the far end, such as the royal family were purported to have in the palace, festooned with silver and gold candles.
Snowflakes of delicate lace hung from thin thread above the crowd, as though falling from the ceiling. The whole effect was quite marvelous, especially considering that the weather made it unlikely real snow would fall anytime soon.
Aunt Elizabeth gestured for Penny to join her. “Dear me, Penelope. Have you ever seen so many kissing balls?” She fluttered her fan in the direction of the ceiling.
“I had not spied any.” Penny looked up and saw, hanging amidst the snowflakes and beneath the musician’s balcony, a green ball with silver-colored berries upon it. The decorations and lights nearly hid the ball from view, but apparently enough young ladies had noticed it so that no one stood beneath. One would have to stretch their arms quite high to come near to plucking a berry from it.
“They are everywhere beneath the balconies.” A long walkway was above the ballroom floor on one side, allowing for chaperones to stand upon it and look down at dancing couples. Not many people stood near the rail at that moment. Beneath that walkway, kissing balls hung at regular intervals, nearly hidden by ribbons and wreathes. On the other side of the room, a few of the doors leading outside also had the treacherous decor waiting to trap poor maidens into kisses.
“Whatever must the countess be thinking?” Uncle Matthew said, a sly grin upon his face. “I wonder if that son of hers put her up to it.”
Mrs. Brody had been standing nearby, listening to the conversation. “I imagine it is the earl’s doing. Everyone knows that Lord Annesbury is a tad eccentric.” She gestured to the far side of the room where several chairs lined the walls. “Come, Elizabeth. I should like to introduce you to my brother, Thomas.”
Though Penny had kept her eyes roving along the walls and through the crowds, she had yet to spy Robert. Following her aunt somewhat reluctantly, she tried not to be too disappointed. Not everyone had arrived yet, after all.
But then, even if Robert did not come at all, Penny still meant to enjoy herself.
Chapter 5
Music streamed out of windows which were barely cracked to allow for the night air to cool the crowded ballroom. Robert tried to walk faster, realizing the dancing had started. Samuel had made them late, lingering over their dinner and then in conversation with Peter. Though they were not the only carriage still unloading before the earl’s estate, Robert wished they had been among the first rather than among the last to arrive.
Try as he might to tell himself he had no right to take up Penny’s time, he could justify at least one dance with her. At least one reel or country dance, for their friendship’s sake. Indeed, it would seem odd if he did not invite her to the floor, given how long they had known one another.
Samuel kept pace with him, a wide grin stretching his features. “I cannot wait to see what has become of Miss Clark. She must have blossomed into a great beauty for you to be so smitten after a single meeting.”
Robert stopped abruptly in the downstairs entry, and a footman took the opportunity to approach and help him remove his hat and coat. “I am not smitten,” he insisted. “Merely in a hurry to join the party. You know I cannot abide arriving late to an event of such importance.”
“A lack of punctuality is to be blamed for your scowl?” Samuel asked with a chuckle, handing off his own outer things to another servant. He ran a gloved hand through his hair, tousling it somewhat. “You are not fooling me, Rob. I have not seen you this impatient about a ball in—well, never, come to think of it.”
Grinding his teeth together, Robert turned away from his brother and took a deep breath in through the nose. If Samuel put the motivation behind Robert’s actions on Penny’s doorstep, others would as well. Maybe even Penny herself. That would amount to nothing more than his humiliation and disappointment.
“Perhaps I am excited to see Miss Clark,” Robert said slowly, as though that made up for his earlier haste. “She is a friend I have not seen in ages. We did not have time to speak when we met on the road yesterday. I am eager to hear how she has passed the time since we parted seven years ago.”
Samuel raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You are eager to chat with her, hm? To find out about her schooling, her come-out ball, perhaps even what books she has read of late?” Each word dripped with disbelief.
“Yes. Of course.” Robert adjusted his waistcoat, then dropped his hands to his side. The nervous habit would out him as surely as anything. Admitting that he wished to see Penny again to satisfy his boyish affection for her would prove foolish. Especially as he was not in a position to do more than admire her from afar.
“Then we had better find her for this riveting conversation.” Samuel put a hand on Robert’s shoulder and pushed him toward the stairs and the first floor, where the ball took place. “I cannot wait to learn whether she prefers poetry to prose, the classics to the more modern authors, and if she has become an accomplished reader.”
Pressing his lips together firmly, Robert allowed Samuel to push and prod him up the stairs and into the ballroom. Robert finally set his heels and shrugged off his brother’s hand. Then he gave Samuel what he hoped was a quelling glare. “If you do something to embarrass Miss Clark—”
“I would never dream of humiliating a lady.” Samuel smirked and started peering around the room. “You, on the other hand, would be
great sport to tease. Especially since I have never seen you even act interested in a young lady, though there are many in town who are quite lovely.”
“There are not many willing to wed a steward,” Robert muttered, too quietly for Samuel to hear given his state of distraction.
Despite himself, Robert found his eyes searching for Penny, too. But while Samuel looked along the walls, Robert knew she would be dancing. Her loveliness would attract attention, the novelty of a new young lady would make her sought after, and if she smiled in the direction of any man, the gentleman would be helpless to do anything but ask to escort her to the floor.
As he suspected, Penny was dancing. He recognized her at once, and his breath caught at the beautiful sight she made in a dress the shade of rubies. The dress flowed over her curves, showing her figure to great adventure when she skipped lightly around the man partnering her for the reel. Yet while he admired her form, it was the bright smile upon her face which drew him forward. He had seen that smile a thousand times in their youth, whenever Penny had been particularly happy.
Many a time, he had been the cause of that smile. That another man had done something to be awarded such a smile made Robert’s heart ache.
Samuel rejoined Robert when he stopped at the very edge of the crowd watching the dance. From the corner of his eye, Robert saw Samuel study Miss Clark, then study Robert. A gleam of recognition appeared in his eyes.
“I can see why she captured your attention again, even after all these years. Miss Clark is quite pretty.”
Pretty did not even begin to describe her. But rather than sound like a lovesick calf, Robert gave a brief nod. “She is, yes. But above that, Miss Clark is my friend. Or at least she used to be. I cannot think of a scrape or an adventure she did not take part in when we were home for the summer.”
“Father did call her your little shadow.” Samuel sounded thoughtful at the recollection. “I am afraid I did not take as much notice of her then. I spent most of my time with her brothers.”
Robert withdrew before Penny noticed him standing there, easing back into the crowd; Samuel followed. It would only confirm to Samuel that Robert was smitten if he stood and stared at Penny while she danced with another. He knew where she was and could approach her after the set. In the meantime, he ought to mingle with his neighbors.
Samuel kept near him for a short time, then took his leave to speak to a friend he spied near the orchestra. Robert watched him go, engaged in his own conversation with Phillip Macon, the young Baron Heatherton. Phillip had nearly completed his studies at Oxford and had a mind to return to managing the holdings left to him by his late father, the countess’s first husband.
“I know it would be wise to engage a steward. I cannot let the earl’s steward continue to manage my affairs when I return home.” The younger man sighed and gave Robert a narrow-eyed appraisal. “Do you think I could tempt you away from my cousin? I would trust your advice, Ellsworth.”
At that moment, Harry Devon appeared at Robert’s elbow. “Ah, I heard that. It is a very good thing I saw you both. How dare you, Phillip?” He snorted and leveled a glare at his cousin. “Ellsworth is quite content at Whitewood. We have far too many projects for him to even consider abandoning me to look after things alone.”
With a laugh, Robert crossed his arms and looked between the two men. Once, he had been their peer. Now, though they all laughed at Harry’s act, Robert knew well enough he could not consider himself their equal. Harry Devon paid his salary and Phillip Macon held a title. Both were above him in station.
“Though I admit that such an offer is flattering,” he said to the baron, “I am content where I am, near my family’s estate.” He kept his ear on the music, noting the second dance in the set had begun. A brief glance in the direction of the couples was all he needed to find Penny’s fine figure in that bright red dress, still promenading on the arm of another gentleman.
The cousins started speaking of their properties, bemoaning the state of the weather and what it meant for their lands. The subject of the weather had been discussed by everyone for weeks, which made it an easy one to fall into. Robert joined the gentlemen in speculating when it might finally grow cold enough to freeze the mud and perhaps turn the rain to snow, but thus far no one held out hope for such events until February. The old farmers all swore that was the earliest they could expect an end to the wretched mud and flooding.
Robert glanced to where Penny danced again, his eyes lingering on her when she laughed. Despite the music and the crowd, he heard the light sound and released his breath in a sigh.
“Do you know her?” Devon asked.
Robert snapped his attention back to the other two gentlemen, a confused denial upon his lips, when he realized Devon was asking his cousin the question.
“I met her only this evening,” the baron said. “She is Miss Clark, a guest of Mr. and Mrs. Brody. Her uncle and aunt are her guardians.”
“I must invite her to our Twelfth Night ball.” Devon crossed his arms. “Daisy will extend the invitation, of course, but I imagine she would not mind. Will she be here through Epiphany, I wonder?”
Though he wished to stay silent on the matter, Robert cleared his throat before saying, “She will be here a fortnight, I believe. Miss Clark and I are well-acquainted, from childhood.”
“That would make sense.” Macon gave a brief nod. “She said her family leased that house near yours. What took her away, I wonder?”
“I remember now.” Devon rocked back on his heels. “She has two older brothers. Their parents died in a carriage accident, did they not? The bridge in Kettering.”
Robert’s heart dropped at the mention of the event that had separated him from Penny for the last seven years, leaving her an orphan. He had been at school when it happened, when he received word from his father of his dear friend’s loss and subsequent removal from the county.
Everything in him had wished to fly to her aid, to find her, to hold her near and assure her he would look after her. His first instinct upon seeing her again had been to take her up in his arms and offer comfort, but it would be seven years too late, and completely inappropriate. Unwanted, even.
The baron made a sound of interest, but then turned the conversation to another topic entirely. All three of the men, Robert realized, had lost parents at an early age. The baron had lost his father, Devon his mother, and Robert his mother, too. Life was too fragile a thing, and death too quick to snatch away parents before their children had learned to manage on their own.
The music’s tempo changed to indicate the set coming to an end. Robert murmured a quick excuse to Devon and the baron, then moved to the line of dancers just as they began clapping to thank the musicians for their efforts. Robert took up a position behind Penny, but not too close, in hopes of catching her eye. To approach her would seem presumptuous, but if she saw him and did more than offer a nod of acknowledgement, he might ask her to dance. Had he been in a better position, had he the title of gentleman rather than steward, he would not hesitate to ask for a set outright.
She took the arm of her partner. Robert finally realized she had been dancing with Mr. Babcock, a gentleman with more orchards than sense. Yet he had a fine estate, and everyone knew him to be a genial fellow.
Penny saw him immediately, and her expression changed from one of pleasant enjoyment to true delight.
“Mr. Ellsworth, you came.” Her escort immediately stopped, but Robert kept his eyes upon Penny. Her cheeks were rosy with her pleasure and exercise, her eyes bright, and a dimple in one cheek appeared with the width of her smile. He had not seen that dimple in more than seven years yet knew at once he had missed it.
“Of course, Miss Clark. I could not pass up the opportunity to share a dance with one of my dearest friends.” He bowed, then offered an apologetic smile to Mr. Babcock, who appeared to have wilted somewhat in the moments since the dance ended. “If you will excuse me, Mr. Babcock, I wish to ask this lady for a dance.”
“You do mean a set, I hope,” she corrected, releasing Mr. Babcock with only a polite nod before taking Robert’s arm. Poor fellow seemed ready to cede defeat. Until Penny graced him with a gentler version of the smile she gave to Robert. “Thank you so much for an enjoyable quarter hour, Mr. Babcock. I have not had such a lovely time dancing for ages. I do hope I will see you again during my stay with the Brodys.”
Mr. Babcock lit up again as she spoke, bowed, and promised to call upon her soon. Then he left, chest puffed out and a knowing smirk cast in Robert’s direction.
“Now you have done it,” Robert said, voice lowered.
Penny looked up at him, her eyebrows raised. “What have I done, precisely?”
“Encouraged Mr. Babcock.” Robert shook his head and affected a tragic frown. “He will beset you with hothouse flowers and calling cards for the remainder of your stay.”
Penny laughed, though not unkindly. “That would be most attentive of him. I cannot say many gentlemen have gone to such lengths for me before. His interest will wane before my visit is through, I am certain.”
Robert took her to the foot of the couples lining up for the next set of dances. “You cannot be serious.” He released her to her place in the line and had to take in a deep breath when her loveliness hit him squarely in the heart a second time. “You must be regularly flooded with gifts from admirers.”
Her smile notably faded away, and she dropped her eyes to the floor between them a moment. “Not so, Mr. Ellsworth.”
He hated to see her sad, to see the light in her eyes dim. Especially due to something he had said. Instead of allowing her to remain with eyes downcast, Robert searched his memory for something to speak upon that would take her back to a happier time. “Do you remember,” he said, somewhat abruptly, “when you hid in the hay after harvest?”
With a wrinkle above her nose and with lowered lashes, she responded without hesitation. “How could I forget? I thought it such a clever hiding place until I spent the rest of the week with my arms and legs itching as though a thousand fleas had claimed me as their host. Who would have thought there was a nettle mixed in with that particular pile of straw?”
Penny's Yuletide Wish: A Regency Romance Novella (Branches of Love Book 7) Page 3
