Page 13 of The Spy and His Lady Love
Emma whispered from her seat beside her on the settee, “Try to relax and get to know the duke. I have heard good things about the man.”
“I will try.” She shivered even though the drawing room was warm.
After greetings, bows, and curtsies were made, Newbury stood before her. “Shall we?”
She forced herself to smile. “We shall.” After standing, she wrapped her arm around his and let him lead her down the hall, out the door, and down the stairs to an open phaeton.
Newbury assisted her into the high two-seater carriage she’d heard was dangerous.
After taking his seat beside her, he took the reins and set the phaeton in motion onto Park Ave as they made their way to Hyde Park. “You look worried. Don’t be. I’ve been driving carriages for years. You’ve, no doubt, heard of the phaeton’s reputation for being dangerous and easily tipping over. Only when a gentleman is hell bent on racing. You, my dear, are safe with me.”
Safe with him? Was she really? She was marrying a stranger who behind closed doors could be a monster that had nothing to do with his damaged face and body. Growing up and then working for the vile viscount, she’d seen how bad humanity could be. Outwardly, Viscount Hadley appeared normal enough. The man had a wife and five children. Once you no longer looked inside the windows, but lived there, you met the demon inside the man. He beat his wife and children. Took liberties with most of the female staff. Used her mother repeatedly. Although Penelope knew she offered up herself so he would leave her alone. The viscount first touched her when she was around twelve. Nearly raped her. Did everything but take her maidenhead. After that one encounter, her mother stepped in and kept the reprobate occupied. Kept him away from her…mostly.
Even at that age Penelope wasn’t naïve when it came to men and women and matters of the flesh.
“You are still looking worried. You don’t trust me to keep you safe?”
Harry didn’t likethat Penelope looked frightened. Being with him out in the open, surrounded by a crush of carriages and both men and women on horseback, now that they’d entered the park, should have her at ease. What could he possibly do to her with all eyes on them? It would be remiss of him not to notice all the stares and whispers swirling around them. Because of his covert career, he was always aware of his surroundings. Just in case.
Hence, why he had two loaded pistols in his greatcoat pockets. The metal lion’s head of his cane unscrewed and became the handle of a sword. Beneath the seat held several rifles, loaded and ready to fire.
He’d learned in the army to be ready for anything. When you least expect an attack, expect one. Of course, he wasn’t in the army anymore, but still. One could never be too careful. His cover could be revealed. There already were rumors he worked for the Secretary of War. Any sane person would laugh and think it ridiculous, but not all. Being a spy put Penelope in danger. Once they wed, he would plan for two bodyguards to accompany her everywhere.
“Is it just me, or is everyone staring and whispering?” Penelope turned her head to look at him, sending his heart pounding at her blinding beauty.
“Yes. Let them enjoy themselves. Any moment another gossip worthy couple will come along and their attention will shift to them. We will be long forgotten.” He lied, of course. They would spark gossip for some time to come. How could they not? A bastard daughter of a duke and a crippled, hideous duke to be joined in holy matrimony. Not something that happened in aristocracy every day. Probably never.
One side of her mouth quirked up. “Thank you for making light of it. But I’m too old to believe such nonsense.”
“Forgive me.”
“I forgive you.” As she spoke the words, her hand drifted over his thigh, as though she were going to touch him. She gasped and pulled it back. Her cheeks reddened.
“You can touch me. I don’t bite. At least not anymore. My nanny used to tell stories about me biting other children. Didn’t last long once she put vile cleaning soap in my mouth each time I did.”
Her giggles were music to Harry’s ears. A ride in the park on a sunny, mild day should be void of tension and unease.
“How long have you been out of the army?”
“Since Waterloo. The army didn’t need a cripple. I sold off my commission, came to London, and became a duke. A fairy tale ending.” He sounded bitter, but he wasn’t. Until she knew his secrets he had to make it all appear real.
“I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for.” His nerves tightened with guilt. Deceiving her would have dire consequences for him soon. “Sinclair said he took a turn around the ballroom last evening with you. I hope he behaved himself.”
Her cheeks reddened once again. “Yes, he was quite the gentleman.”
“Glad to hear it.” Harry pulled on the reins. His horse was getting antsy with the crawl of carriages on Rotten Row. Cinnamon wanted to stretch her legs. I do too, girl, I do too. He told me he wanted to waltz with you, but you have not been given permission yet.
“Will you ever dance again, Your Grace?” she asked in a soft voice shocking him with her question.
“Perhaps. But don’t worry if you like to twirl around the dance floor, Sinclair or some other gentleman will be available. You need not worry about missing out.”
She gasped or coughed. Or coughed to hide her gasp. He’d bet on the latter. “I wasn’t worried about putting away my dancing shoes. I was more concerned that you felt left out.”
Laughter bubbled up and out. “Most gentlemen of my acquaintance use dancing when courting a lady. Once they secure the lady and marry, I believe most of them would be glad to never step on a ballroom floor ever again. More likely they are to be found in the game room most host and hostesses set up for just that reason. Along with bored husbands are single gentlemen hiding from the marriage mamas or overly forward debutantes hoping to snag a wealthy title.”
“You make socializing sound dreadful. And that’s not my experience with Wentworth and several of his friends. They appear to enjoy dancing with their wives.” She paused, then smiled. “The more I think on it, the more I realize Wentworth, Myles, Bridgeton, and several others are the exception.”
