Page 59 of The Pursuit of Mrs. Pennyworth
“What?” She returned the cup to the saucer and smiled at him. Despite him being a guest in her home for a week they’d spent very little time together that did not involve her nursing him. Now that he was feeling more himself, he became very much aware of the fact that he sat, only partially clothed, on a bed, and this lovely, enticing woman was a mere few feet from him.
Through force of habit, with days of him being fevered, the door to the room had remained closed. No one would wonder what was going on between the two of them with him delirious for much of the time.
He was certainly not delirious now, and his cock reminded him it had been quite some time since he’d enjoyed any bed sport. Right now, the only woman he wanted in bed, under him, naked and panting, was the very prim looking Mrs. Pennyworth, no longer as relaxed as she had been while she studied him over the rim of her teacup.
“Nothing in particular.” The untruthful answer to her question slipped easily from his lips. “I am just appreciating how lovely you look this morning.” He returned to his breakfast, satisfying one appetite while another remained unsated.
“If you are truly feeling up to it, Dr. Sanford suggested a walk in the fresh air might do you good. Once Thomas has helped you with washing and dressing, I thought we might take the carriage to Hyde Park, and stroll for a while along the Serpentine.”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea. As generous as your hospitality has been, I am quite anxious to leave these four walls.” He finished eating, and pulled the blasted napkin from his chin, chagrined to see spots of egg and tea on it.
Charlotte stood and took the tray. “I will send Thomas up, and then we shall go.”
He watched her leave the room, knowing the time was coming when they would have to speak on this attraction between them. Her flushes and fidgeting when they were together told him she was well aware of it.
Of course, he must find this culprit once and for all. So far, there had been no pattern that the culprit had used. No certain day, no certain event preceding the arrival of the leavings. At present, the only way to find the person behind this was to catch the delivery person and either get the information directly from him or follow him.
Twice, now, he’d been targeted for physical harm. The first time had seemed to be a warning of sorts, but this time the suspect had meant business. Had he not turned back to speak to Charlotte, he would be a dead man.
He would have to be very careful on their walk around the park. It was heavily visited, and so far, both attacks had been at night. But since they were obviously dealing with a demented individual, he would need to protect both himself and Charlotte from harm.
The frustration was growing. Who the devil was this man, and what did he hope to accomplish?
* * *
Charlotte leftElliot’s room with the tray, the dishes practically wiped clean. She was surprised he hadn’t licked the plates. The poor man must have been starving. She would have to make sure all his meals in the future were substantial.
“Thomas, please see to Mr. Baker’s needs. He will be joining me on a ride to the park, so he will need to be fully dressed.” She brought the tray to the kitchen, and returned to her bedroom to fetch her reticule, pelisse, and bonnet. With some time on her hands before Elliot would be ready, she settled in the library with the intention of catching up on her correspondence.
Instead of dealing with the stack of letters and invitations sitting on her desk, she found herself standing in front of the window, admiring the last of the withering autumn flowers. Soon the garden would lay dormant, all the leaves would be gone from the trees, and winter would be upon them.
Would her tormentor be caught before then? Once again, she went through her list of friends and acquaintances, trying to ascertain who among them would do such a dastardly thing to her. No matter how hard she tried, she could not say with any certainty that this man, or that man, was the culprit.
While she was wrangling with that problem, she considered another one, more likely to change her life—the issue of her and Elliot. The mere thought of him brought a smile to her face, and a warmth to her body. Being so close to him this past week had done nothing to dissuade her from the fact that she was beginning to fall in love with him. But where would that lead?
She closed her eyes and imagined a life with a man whose work was dangerous. How would she deal with worrying every minute he was not at her side that he was hurt, bleeding, dead? She shivered. No. That would not work. She had lived that horror before and would not do it again.
Unaware that she’d spent so much time pondering her life while watching autumn die outside her window, she was startled when the door to the library opened.
“Good morning once again.” Elliot strolled into the room. Except for the sling that held his arm steady, he looked perfectly ordinary. Thomas had made the trip to Elliot’s rooms the day after the shooting and packed up enough of his things to make his recovery at her house comfortable.
“Are we ready for our ride to the park?” He moved closer to her, a slight smile on his face. She’d been so busy admiring him, she stood like a statue. Fresh from his bath, his hair was still damp. Thomas had done an excellent job of turning him out. Elliot was freshly shaven, and his clothes did not hang off him, even though he had eaten so little the past week.
“Yes, I am ready.” She crossed the room, picking up her bonnet, reticule, and pelisse on the way toward the door. Thomas took her things from her hands and held out her pelisse. She placed the bonnet on her head and viewed herself in the mirror next to the front door, as she tucked away the few curls that had already escaped her bun.
Thomas opened the door and she and Elliot made their way down the steps to the waiting carriage. Elliot seemed a bit on edge, and he surveyed the area as they descended. He noticeably relaxed once they were settled inside. Having been attacked twice now while working for her, no doubt he felt a bit skittish being in public for the first time. “Now that I think upon it, maybe a stroll in the park is not a good idea.”
Elliot shook his head. “Charlotte, I cannot hide in your house forever. I must go about my business.”
“Does that mean we should resume our social life?” She had to admit she was very tired of staying at home. She hadn’t realized how much of a social being she was until her activities were curtailed. Even in her mourning, once she’d overcome her grief, she’d visited St. Jerome’s and had attended small gatherings.
“Which brings me to an idea I had on how we can rid ourselves of this menace.”
She leaned forward, hopeful. “Indeed?”
“The vicar has been eliminated, and nothing leads me to continue considering Von Braun. But the fact that Talbot is left-handed and keeps spiders—nasty creatures that they are—puts him in the forefront of our suspects.”
“I understand your reasoning, and maybe it’s simply wishful thinking, since he was such a great friend to Mr. Pennyworth, but it is hard for me to imagine him torturing me in this way. Also, what sort of a motivation could he have for doing this?”
