Dancing With the Gull (Revenge of the Wallflowers, #14)

Chapter Five

Lord Greer had been silent for so long that Pen worried she’d said something that upset him. She’d not been particularly nervous around him before, but was beginning to feel very much so now. Perhaps it was a natural progression from having acted more herself around him than she did most people of her class. He didn’t seem particularly bothered by her forwardness or enthusiasm, but he was so reserved that it was difficult to tell.

It was interesting that she’d not thought of him as particularly reserved in the past. Before, when she’d thought of him, she would think of his genial smile and how, when not seated for a formal supper, he was forever flanked by his friends. Now she was beginning to think the smile was a mask, and the friends themselves used to keep others at a distance.

He spoke again, pulling her from her ruminations. “I am going to ask you a question, and you should not feel compelled to answer yes, nor even to give me any answer at all.”

Pen laughed. “Then what sort of question is it?”

“It occurs to me that it could be advantageous to both of us if others did believe us to be an item.”

“An item?” Now Pen was the one reduced to parroting his statement as a question.

He frowned in concentration. “I have no interest in spending the next many months fending off treasure seekers, and you’ve expressed no interest in a beau that I’ve seen.”

Pen tipped her head. “Are you suggesting a false engagement, Lord Henry?”

“I suppose that might be necessary.”

A laugh burbled out before she could stop it. “Why stop there? We can have a false marriage and really confuse them.”

Henny blinked, then peered closer. “You’re jesting, aren’t you?”

She opened her eyes wide in false shock. “Of course I’m jesting.”

He nodded and adjusted his grip on his reins. She was fairly certain he would have bolted with his horse if he didn’t know it would appear rude.

She sighed and shook her head. “My apologies, Lord Henry, I was only surprised by your suggestion. It bears consideration, but I must warn you that my mother is very much in favor of such a match. Although I have no interest in your wealth, or even in being married, we might find ourselves in just such a state before the year is out if we were to encourage her too much.”

“You seem trustworthy, so it is a risk I am willing to take. But as I said, you do not even need to dignify the question with a response.”

She nodded. “I will think upon it. A respite from my mother’s machinations would be a comfort.” She mused for a moment. “As a suggestion, you might send some daffodils to me. It is a good start should this move forward, and even if not, it would be appropriate.”

“Not roses?”

“Sir,” she said with mock outrage, “we do not know each other that well.”

“Roses later,” he said with a nod, as though marking the thought. “And how will I know if you wish to answer my question?”

“If I can’t think of another way to reach you, then we will meet here in a week’s time. Is that sufficient?”

He nodded. “Thank you for considering my plan, Lady Penelope.”

Shortly, their gamboling in the park was at an end and Penelope had much to think about. Would an engagement with Lord Greer that did not result in a marriage make her father more or less inclined to surrender her dowry to her? Further, would such attention only serve to bring suitors back to her side? The last thing she wanted was to suffer the attendance of another parade of boring, insufferable sons of nobles competing to bring down a fox rather than court a woman. Quite honestly, Lord Greer might be the only one that she didn’t want to dismiss out of hand. Was that a risk in itself? Might she become too attached to the man? He’d made no indication he had any feelings for her. Not that she’d made any such declaration herself, but she’d noted her attitude toward him had warmed considerably. Had he noticed and was now inclined to take advantage of her good regard? Certainly not that. He seemed far too earnest to do such a thing. But if not mysterious he was a mystery. Did she really know his intentions?

Her mind spun well after her cousin, Lady Vale, took her leave.

***

HENNY VERY MUCH TRIED not to think about the question he had impetuously posted to Lady Penelope. It wasn’t like him to lie, which was precisely what he knew the two of them would conspire to do. But he also very much did not want to be pursued by treasure hunting vixens. Prior to his inheritance, after some attempts, the girls who’d realized he wasn’t responsive to their smiling and flirting had gone on to leave him be. Now they’d redoubled their flirtatious ways with a vengeance.

It was impossible for him to understand what they wanted, or how to respond to them. Everyone told him to be cautious of being entrapped by one of them, and he had no idea how to do that. Spiraling into where, how, and when to be cautious drained him. Sure that the key was hidden in that morass of human interaction, entirely hidden from him, he was certain that he was moments away from misinterpreting something said or worse yet unsaid. A misstep causing himself to be permanently tied to one of the women he found impossible to understand and whose intentions might be far from loving.

In that way, an agreement with Lady Penelope was like clinging to a floating branch in a flood. He might not know her well, but she was forthright and had no use for his money or position. That made her as trustworthy as any woman he knew. What little he did know of her only spoke well of her character. She loved animals and had little patience for foolish people.

Since he wasn’t sure what else to do while awaiting her response over the week, he avoided any social obligations and focused on his horses. War was more of a pest than usual, but Henny had nothing to tell him. It wasn’t like he could divulge that Lady Penelope was considering becoming his false fiancée. If the plan was put into motion, then yes, of course he would involve War in it. Lord knew he would need War’s subtle mind for such a plan to succeed. Meanwhile, it wouldn’t be appropriate to impugn her reputation with the story, nor would he want War to take it upon himself to pressure the poor woman. She should have the opportunity to make whatever decision she wanted, without undue influence from himself or others.

He held to the appropriate posy of daffodils that she’d suggested. He wouldn’t make over her with more flowers or letters or, God forbid, poetry. If she decided to move forward with his plan, then he would send her anything she wanted. Within reason. He would probably never understand poetry well enough to choose a passage befitting her.

Meanwhile, his horses were a perfectly fine distraction. He spent most mornings at Mr. McTavish’s training track just outside of Town. Hen’s racing horse Knox seemed to have gained all the benefit he could from the training, and Hen considered bringing him home and finally hiring his own trainer. He fleetingly wondered if Lady Penelope would have an opinion. Although her preference seemed to be for riding horses, she might have thoughts about racers.