Page 10 of The Spy and His Lady Love
Bella and Emma both agreed to secrecy.
“Before I continue, I want you to know that nothing happened. Mr. Sinclair and I went out on the veranda. He said Newbury gave him permission to answer questions I may have about him. I couldn’t come up with any.”
“Perhaps it would be better to ask His Grace if you have anything you want to know,” Emma said right before she finished the last of her biscuit.
“I agree with Emma,” Bella said. “He may have given his cousin permission to answer your questions, but I would bet my next month’s pin money on Newbury wanting you to ask him yourself.”
“That’s not all.” Penelope prepared herself for a scolding. She was, after all, only ten and seven. Even if there were days she felt years older, body and mind. “He said for the first time since the duke’s injuries, he envies him.”
“Why?” Bella and Emma asked simultaneously.
“Because he finds himself attracted to me and wants to kiss me.”
Emma gasped and quickly covered her mouth to hide the noise. Her blue eyes, however, went big as a teacup’s saucer. Bella raised one perfect blonde brow.
“He didn’t. We didn’t,” Penelope blurted out.
“Thank goodness,” Emma said as she used her hands to smooth her skirts. “What were you thinking going out onto the veranda with him alone? If you’d been caught, scandal would have you marrying him instead of the duke.”
Breathe, Penelope, breathe. Half of her wanted to ask, would that be so terribly wrong? The other half knew better. “I’m sorry. If Wentworth knew he would keep me under lock and key until the wedding. And the duke, he’d be shocked and disappointed. There would be no need for Wentworth to lock me up because there’d be no wedding. What a disgrace I am to the Seabrook family. Wentworth should send me back, hence where I came from.”
Bella touched her hand. “Don’t be a silly goose. Wentworth will never know. What’s done is done and luckily you came through it unscathed and without scandal. Don’t temp fate another time, though. You may not be so fortunate.”
“I agree with what Bella said,” Emma chimed in. You must remain above reproach. I realize the Seabrook family, even before I arrived in England, didn’t always behave in a stellar manner, my husband had a dreadful reputation for being a rakehell and seducing young widows. The previous duke, your father, well you know about his scandalous past. Bella, stringing along two gentlemen. Amelia having,” she lowered her voice to a whisper, “Olivia out of wedlock. Even if she’d given herself to her betrothed only a week before his tragic death and their planned wedding.”
“Not to mention,” Bella interjected, “Sebastian and Thomas fighting over you. Such scandal indeed.”
“Please explain, with details, everything you just told me.” How had Penelope heard none of this before? She certainly came from an interesting family. And thank God she did. And she loved each and every one of them.
“Not now,” Emma said. “Perhaps another time when we have privacy. Also, my husband and yours, Bella, are coming this way. I believe it’s time to go.”
Once at home,in her room dressed in her night rail and matching robe, Penelope lay on the chaise in front of the roaring fire beneath a throw. Sleep eluded her, so she’d gotten out of bed and moved to the chaise. Her mind was swirling with thoughts and memories of the evening. One moment guilt bombarded her and the next memories of the emotions Mr. Sinclair awoke inside her, pushing aside her strange attraction to Newbury.
Tears slid down her cheeks. What a terrible person she’d become. After tonight, how could she go through with her nuptials to Newbury? She worried because secrets had a way of being revealed. What if in a moment of anger, Mr. Sinclair told Harry about their almost kiss? What if Harry called him out? Surely, he couldn’t win a duel against his cousin. His death would be on her conscience forever. The future of all three of them ruined. More than ruined for Newbury. He’d be dead. How could she live with herself if that came to pass?
No. The only way to solve this issue was to admit to the Duke of Newbury the truth. That his cousin and she had private words on the veranda alone and almost kissed. No. That would be worse. He definitely would call Mr. Sinclair out. What a dilemma. How did she fix this? Perhaps the only thing she could do was stay silent. Confessing to the duke would cause a rift between the cousins. For the sake of all parties, she would remain silent and deal with the guilt gnawing at her insides.
Sometimes being a member of the Seabrook family was too hard. One always had to be at one’s best.
Think before you speak, lest you embarrass yourself or a family member, or God forbid cause a scandal.
Always use the correct utensil when eating.
Sip your tea, do not slurp.
Do not wear a day dress in the evening.
Never, ever, leave the house without gloves and a hat.
Do not address a duke as a lord or an earl as your grace.
And the list went on and on. How was she to remember it all and not misstep or misspeak? She couldn’t blame Wentworth for bringing her to London. She’d sent a letter asking for his help. If only she could go back in time and find another way.
Never to have sent the letter and become a burden on Wentworth and the rest of his family.
Never to have met the duke or his cousin.
She sighed, and more tears escaped her eyes. If she’d met none of them, her heart ached at the thought, she’d have missed out on ever having known such wonderful, caring, and loving people. Oh dear, her lungs burned. Closing her eyes, she wished for sleep. Dreamless, peaceful sleep so she could wake up in the morning fresh and ready to handle anything or anyone that came her way.
