How to Wed an Earl (17 page)

“Of course.” Penelope’s stepfather gave him a speculative look. “But I want to know something.”

“Ask away.”

Dr. Walker hesitated. He sipped port from his glass, appearing to mull the situation over. “You, my lord, strike me as a person who is very meticulous and deliberate about what he does. So why did you leave your coat in my stepdaughter’s bedchamber?”

He smiled ruefully and glanced at the suit of armor in the far corner of the room. “I thought it was the best way to get her to realize what she truly wanted out of this whole affair.”

“I had just come to the same conclusion myself.” Dr. Walker grinned. “Very well, my lord,” he added, shaking Lucas’s hand. “Welcome to the family.”

“Thank you, sir.”

A knock sounded at the door. “Lord Maitland is here, sir,” Gertie announced. “Should I show him to the drawin’ room?”

The baron burst into the library, waving Gertie aside. “I do not need to be shown to the drawing room. This is clearly where he is.” Maitland first looked shocked to see Lucas, then the baron straightened and said stiffly, “Ravenstone.”

“Maitland,” he acknowledged, contemplating the old man through the rim of his glass of port. “I was beginning to think you didn’t know where your niece has been staying all these years. What brings you to Highfield Manor?”

The baron strode to the nearest chair and sat without waiting for an invitation. “What game are you playing, Ravenstone? I demand to know what you think you are getting out of this.”

“Lord Maitland,” Dr. Walker said. “I respectfully remind you that you are in my home, and I do not tolerate such rudeness to my guests. Furthermore, his lordship is about to become part of our family.”

The baron’s palm slammed against the arm of the chair. “You fool! How could you believe this man,” he pointed a crooked finger at Lucas, “would actually want to marry the plain little chit Edmund sired?” His eyes blazed at Lucas. “Do you really think you could convince anyone that a man of your station would want anything to do with someone like Penelope if you didn’t have some hidden agenda?”

He smiled coldly. “You are one to talk about hidden agendas. What has prompted you to finally deign to visit your niece, Maitland?”

The baron frowned. “You are not going to turn this around on me. I demand to know — ”

“Lord Maitland!” Dr. Walker interrupted. “I will say again that you are in my home, and we do not tolerate such lack of respect in this house. Moreover,” he put a palm up to silence the baron’s disagreement, “Penelope is of age. It is her decision who and why to marry someone. As her stepfather, I respect her decision. And so should you, don’t you think?”

“You idiot!” the baron raged. “I do not believe this. Where is she? I demand to speak to my niece at once.”

“And so you shall.” Lucas stood up and walked over to the suit of armor in the corner of the room. He reached up and opened the helm. A pair of hazel eyes, opened wide in surprise, stared back at him.

“Butter the crumpets,” Penelope muttered. “How did you know I was in here?”

He grinned. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist being part of a bargaining situation.”

“This is outrageous!” the baron fumed as he rounded on Dr. Walker. “You have utterly destroyed years of training in proper decorum and produced this … this shameless hoyden who is not worthy of the Maitland name.”

“She is every bit a Maitland as you, Hugh.” Eleanor Walker’s usually soft voice filled the library.

Everyone turned to see Penelope’s mother, who was standing in the doorway wearing an herb-stained apron over her white muslin gown. “You visit us for the first time in fifteen years, and you have the gall to talk of proper decorum.”

Lucas watched in fascination as the soft-spoken woman sauntered into the room with the grace of the baroness she once was.

Dr. Walker spoke first in a cajoling voice. “Eleanor, my heart, this is not the time and place to bring up the past.”

“The past has come to us, Robert, and it is time we face it.” Eleanor’s expression softened as she turned to Lucas. “Penelope told me your father killed himself after Edmund tried to get out of the betrothal contract, my lord, and I would like to clarify something once and for all.” She pointed accusingly at the baron. “Edmund, God rest his soul, never cared enough about the title to confront Leonard Drake.”

Eleanor’s eyes blazed as she shifted her attention to the baron. “It was
you
who ordered him to break the contract, wasn’t it? You’re responsible for Leonard Drake’s death.”

Lord Maitland looked as if he was about to suffer from an apoplectic fit. “How dare you! I merely reminded Edmund of his responsibility to the Maitland line, as I am now trying to remind Penelope.”

“It was always about that with you, wasn’t it, Hugh?” Eleanor asked in a quiet voice. “You couldn’t tolerate the fact I married a common country physician, so you punished my daughter for it. But you have no hold over us anymore.”

“We shall see about that.”

“Please, will everyone calm down,” Penelope burst out. The hinges of the armor creaked as she slowly made her way to the center of the room. She looked so out of place, so uncertain and strangely vulnerable, even in that damned armor, that Lucas had to restrain himself from going over to her, pulling her into his arms and banishing her heartless uncle. He understood she wanted to deal with this herself, and he was willing to let her as long as he could remain where he could watch over her.

Penelope looked at everyone in the room before finally addressing her uncle. “Apologies for my attire, Uncle, but I was not aware you were paying us a visit.” She adjusted the visor before continuing, “I am sorry I did not turn out the way you expected.”

“You can be whoever you want to be, Polly,” Eleanor said encouragingly.

Penelope’s laughter was muffled by the helmet. “Mama, please, can you stop being supportive for one minute and just listen to what I have to say?”

“Of course, Polly. We are listening.”

Penelope rolled her eyes before turning her attention back to the baron. “Uncle, I have already given my word to marry his lordship. I know you will appreciate matters of duty.” When her uncle did nothing but sneer, she continued, “I intend to marry Lord Ravenstone, and there is nothing anyone can do to stop me. I would, however, deem it a great honor to have your blessing.”

Lord Maitland turned a nasty shade of red. “Of all the bloody nerve!” His hazel eyes raked Penelope from head to foot. “You are a disgrace to the Maitland line. Your father would have been appalled by this, and I am ashamed to call you my niece.”

With that last statement, Lord Maitland picked up his hat from the chair and left the room. Moments later, the front door slammed shut.

“Apologies for that, Ravenstone,” Dr. Walker muttered. “I honestly do not know what prompted Lord Maitland’s visit. He has never done that in all these years.”

“I must be getting popular,” Penelope observed, staring at the door. “So many visitors this week. First, you, my lord, and now my uncle.” She shook her head in dismissal of the entire event. “If everyone will excuse me, I will go upstairs and change.”

Eleanor Walker looked skeptical. “I doubt you’ll be able to get out of that armor without any help, Polly. I shall go with you.”

Mother and daughter left the library, leaving Lucas alone with Penelope’s stepfather once again. Uneasiness warred with his sense of victory. This was a decent family, and Maitland had been right to be suspicious of him. He
did
have his own agenda.

Dr. Walker strode to the fireplace and stoked the embers with a poker. “How odd that news of your impending nuptials would affect Lord Maitland so.”

He shrugged. “It’s not so unusual. Many families would not welcome an alliance with the tainted Ravenstone title.”

“We know you, Ravenstone, and we are far removed from Society.” Dr. Walker turned to face him. “I do not care what people say about you, I only care about my stepdaughter’s welfare. I believe it is a sound match. Penelope is an assertive sort, and she needs someone who is strong enough to handle her.”

She is a pain in the neck
, Lucas thought. The woman was forever trying to jeopardize her health by going in headfirst into a situation without thinking all of the details through. Their impending marriage was a testament to that fact. Lucas had taken advantage of her impetuous and passionate nature to get what he wanted.

He ignored his conscience’s tiny protest. He had done what he needed to do to get her to the altar; it was his duty to do so. Lucas had honored his father’s need for revenge, and the Ravenstone fortune was now secure. By all rights, he should have been happy with the results of his actions.

So why did it feel just a little wrong? When he found out that Penelope planned to have an affair with him, he set out to save her from herself. He’d wanted to teach her a lesson about playing games with men like him, and had delivered the lesson with the finality of a parson’s trap.

Penelope seemed to trust him now so completely, she was actually willing to marry him despite his reputation and what her relatives were saying. He hoped she would never find out the Maitlands were correct in their estimation of his character. His fingers flexed against his glass of port and he forced himself to relax his hold.

He dismissed his uncharacteristic anxiousness as nothing more than wedding nerves. There was nothing to worry about. Penelope was about to be his, forever. He smiled at the thought.

Life with the nymph would sometimes be exasperating but never boring. And the nights would always be exciting. Intense desire flared through his body as last night flooded his thoughts. He could still hear the erotic little sounds she’d made, the way she’d writhed against his hand and gave of herself so freely. He was looking forward to teaching her more about desire and passion on their wedding night. His embarrassing eagerness made him feel like a randy youth with his first lady.

Then Lucas remembered the way Penelope had looked in that suit of armor mere moments ago, and he had to restrain the urge to laugh. He had never encountered a woman quite like her in his entire life. She didn’t fear him or get excited about the danger he represented.

Dr. Walker refilled his glass, and he gave the older man a respectful nod.

“Thank you for taking care of Penelope,” Lucas said with quiet gratitude.

Dr. Walker smiled. “Don’t tell her you said that; Penelope likes to take care of herself.”

“She will not have to do so any longer,” he promised with a smile of his own.

It was her wedding night.

Penelope let her new lady’s maid, Bess, fuss over her hair. Her decadent bedchamber was a stark contrast to the wedding this morning.

She and Lucas were married in a simple ceremony in the little village church up on a hill that overlooked Bouth. Everyone had turned out to witness the wedding, contributing flowers to her bouquet and giving the newlyweds their well wishes.

She wore her mother’s wedding gown, a magnificent creation of rose satin embellished with flowers made of lace, which had to have some last-minute alterations as Penelope was shorter and more buxom than her mother. Lucas had arranged everything, even down to the food and drinks, which The Mucky Duck had provided. The event was as perfect as a wedding could be for a bride who knew the groom was not in love with her.

She noticed the cool satisfaction Lucas had radiated throughout the ceremony. He may think he was so cunning by leaving his coat in her bedchamber the other night, but the truth was he had merely provided her with an excuse to claim what she had wanted all along. She only hoped he did not regret his decision. Strange how life turned out. She had dreamed of being with Lucas for almost her whole life, and now they were husband and wife.

At one point during the wedding banquet, she’d spied the earl across the field talking to some villagers, listening to their plans for the spring planting and giving advice on the best strains of crop and wheat to plant. He seemed to sense her looking at him because he raised his head to give her a reassuring smile.

Penelope smiled back, before turning her attention to Mari standing beside her.

“How does it feel to be a countess?” Mari asked.

“To be honest,” she admitted, “I feel uncomfortable in this gown. It is too tight. I don’t think I’ll be able to eat any of the food you made for fear of ripping the fabric.”

Mari giggled. “I doubt you’ll have to suffer long. Your husband looks as if he can’t wait to turn in for the night.”

Though she had never seen a man naked, she knew what married couples did in the bedchamber. Nevertheless, it was disconcerting to think everyone knew what she would be doing that night.

Penelope changed the subject. “I am glad David was able to attend the wedding, even if my uncle did not want him to.”

“Yes,” Mari said lightly. “I am amazed he was able to do the decent thing.”

“He’s not so bad, you know. I mean, once you get to know him.”

“I already know far too much about that man,” Mari countered before dismissing the subject. “When are you leaving for London?”

“Tomorrow. Lucas’s sister is having her first Season, and I thought we must be there to give our support. We will have a proper honeymoon after the Season.”

“Excellent! I will be leaving for London soon, as well.” Mari beamed. “I received a letter from a publisher, and he wants to meet me in person to discuss my book.”

“That is wonderful news! You can stay with us.”

Mari waved off the offer with her hand. “I am staying with my aunt and uncle. Nothing is certain yet, so I may not be there long.”

“Well, make sure to visit us when you’re in Town.”

“I will,” Mari promised. “The Nevilles are coming over here to congratulate you, so make sure you have a smile on your face.” With that, Mari left her side to help herself to some pudding.

Penelope pasted a smile on her face as she watched the Nevilles approach. The plumes on Mrs. Neville’s head threatened to fly away as they caught the slight breeze. Thankfully, her mother waylaid the couple before they reached her.