Page 8 of The Spy and His Lady Love
Chapter 4
“You knew this day would come,”Wentworth said as he frowned at Penelope.
Her brother had called her down to his study and gave her the news. Her insides quivered at hearing she was to marry the Duke of Newbury. Truthfully, she didn’t know how she felt. It relieved part of her that the entire shopping for a husband was over.The other part was frightenedout of her mind at the thought of her wedding night and all the nights after.
The days would be easy. Most gentlemen slept late and attended clubs in the evenings. They spent very little time at home in the company of their wife. But the nights when he came home stinking of liquor and wanted his legal rights as a husband had her heart beating in despair. Perhaps his injuries rendered him incapable of performing his husbandly duties.I can hope, can’t I?
“Yes. I did. But I was hoping for more time.” Her voice sounded distant to her own ears.
“Newbury has the reputation of being an exemplary man. There are no rumors of him treating his mistress with anything but generosity and kindness. If I believed he would treat you any differently, I would not have agreed to this marriage.”
Her heart stopped. So, he could perform in the marriage bed. But perhaps he loved his mistress and wouldn’t want to bed her. She knew it was false hope. He was a duke and needed heirs, and she was the only one who could give him them. “When will the ceremony take place?” Truthfully, she didn’t care. The sooner the better, so she could get her wedding night over with. A nagging in the back of her mind rang out. Will the dukebe disappointedwith me?
“You and Emma can begin planning. Two months’ time should be sufficient. A minor affair, family and close friends atStoney BrookManor. The ceremony in the small chapel on the grounds. Does that agree with you?”
Did it? And did her input really have any bearings on Thomas’s alreadymade decisions? Did she really even care? She should be so grateful for Wentworth and his taking her into his home as his sister. It wasn’t that she wasn’t. She was eternally grateful. Without him, she would be destitute in the English countryside, forced to do unspeakable things to stay alive. If she’d been fortunate, a well-to-do country gentleman would have made her his wife. If she’d been unfortunate, she’d havebeen forcedto sell her body. Her self-respect. Her soul. Her stomach churned at the thought.
“I know I’ve told you before, Thomas, but thank you for rescuing me. I don’t know how long I could’vehidden from Hadley. I’m trying to be positive about this marriage and not dwell on the duke’s shortcomings. I will be the Duchess of Newbury, which means absolutely nothing to me. To you and the members of the ton, it meansa great deal. I will try to make you proud. Be worthy of the title of duchess. Be a loyal and kind wife to the duke. Make him never regret his decision to marry me.” She paused thoughtfully. “Why is he marrying me? My birth is scandalous and my upbringing less than stellar. I’m convinced there are mamas of debutants willing to throw their daughters at the duke, even crippled as he is? So why me?”
Wentworth pulled on his collar and cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortablewith the way the conversation had turned. “The only person who knows the answer to the question is Newbury. Perhaps you should ask him?”
She fought down her nervous laughter trying to escape. “Perhaps I will broach the subject someday but notanytimesoon. Do you mind if I retire to my room and rest before tonight’s ball?”
“You may go.” He looked thoughtful. “One thing, Newbury is not attending this evening, but his cousin, Mr. Hugh Sinclair, will be. Expect him to pay homage to you.”
Homage to her? What did that mean. Why wasn’t Newbury attending? She’d much rather spend the night in his company and get to know him better since they would wed soon. The time she spent scandalously waltzing in Mr. Sinclair’s arms haunted her dreams. Harry’s face as a pirate and Hugh’s mask covered face blurred together in her dreams and became one unsettling her. She had woken up several nights lately in a sweat-soaked night rail and a scream on her lips.
As the coach carrying Wentworth,Emma, and Penelope finally pulled up beneath the portico ofMalden Houseafter waiting in the endless queue of carriages, Penelope’s stomach rolled with unease. It would be the first time that she wouldbe introducedand attending a society ball. Emma had warned her the gossips’ tongues would wag fast and often tonight. However, Wentworth would dare anyone to disrespect her in his presence. If only her insides would settle down because shewas terrifiedof these people. She followed Wentworth and Emma up the grand staircase to the receiving line and tried to recall all Emma told her would occur. What happened was a servant bellowed in a loud voice, “The Duke and Duchess of Wentworth and Lady Penelope Seabrook.”
Her breath held inside her lungs as she waited for someone, anyone, to contradict the title ofladybefore her name. No one did, although it became uncomfortably quiet on the landing. Wentworth motioned her forward, not giving her time to dwell on the quiet and said, “Lord and Lady Malden may I present Lady Penelope Seabrook, my sister.”
Penelope curtsied. “Lord and Lady Malden, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
Lady Malden, an attractive woman of later years, smiled warmly at her. “Welcome to our home, Lady Penelope.”
“Thank you.”
“Yes, welcome,” Lord Malden said in a booming voice.
“That went well,” Wentworth whispered as he escorted his wife and sister, each on one arm, into the warmly lit ballroom already full to bursting with bodies. As all eyes looked their way, conversation paused throughout the room. Her brother stiffened beside her and glared at the room, daring anyone to be rude to her. Slowly the conversations picked up again, and everyone went about their business. Penelope inhaled in much-needed air and breathed, “Thank you.”
Wentworth looked at her, his features tense, then changed before her eyes to relaxed, and he grinned. “You’re welcome. I did what any dutiful brother would do. Aye, this must be Mr. Hugh Sinclair coming this way as he resembles Newbury.”
Her eyes fell upon the gentleman slowly making his way toward them, and her insides tumbled at the uncanny resemblance to Newbury. Well, to the Duke of Newbury’s good side. Not to mention the height and build. He looked more like Newbury’s brother than a cousin. Since the night she’d met him, he had a mask on, she was seeing his face for the first time. He had the samedark hairand deep blue eyes. He was dressed in formal wear, and goose bumps broke out on her exposed flesh as she recalled her waltz with him. How he’d held her improperly close and said intimate things to her.
Her eyes were rivetedto his face as he smiled. “Your Graces, Lady Penelope. Newbury asked if I would introduce myself so I may be ofassistancetonight in any way possible.” He bowed quite dramatically. “Mr. Hugh Sinclair at your service.”
Wentworth nodded his head. “Yes, Newbury told me you would be in attendance. How unfortunate he wasn’t able to attend himself.”
Mr. Sinclair’s eyes dimmed. “Yes. Unfortunateindeed.”
“Duchess, Lady Penelope, may I present Mr. Hugh Sinclair.”
Emma curtsied, liftedupher white gloved hand and Mr. Sinclair took it, bowing over it. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Sinclair.”
“The pleasure is all mine, Your Grace.”
He turned, bowed herway,making Penelope drop into a curtsy. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Sinclair.” His eyes sparkled as he looked his fill at her, and she shivered with awareness. Awareness he should not be making her experience.
