Chapter 3 #2
Lord Redfield smiled. The image brought instant heat to her cheeks. He had a pleasant smile, friendly and open. The effect of it on herself—the sudden heat, the racing pulse—made no sense and made her feel uneasy. She looked briefly away, trying to regain her composure.
“I can assure you that my cousin would be delighted,” Lord Redfield said, making her shoulders unknot with sudden relief. “He is very proud of his collection, but he is also not averse to people investigating it. I trust we can rely on you not to steal anything?” he grinned, brow raised teasingly.
“Oh, yes, my lord,” she said swiftly. “Well... I do admit I am tempted. But as I have my own collection, I would not wish to deprive another of theirs.” She glanced at him, unsure if she should be that direct.
He grinned. “You are an honest thief, then. A pleasant contradiction.”
“A would-be thief only, my lord,” Penelope reminded.
“An honest would-be thief.” He chuckled.
Penelope smiled, heat flooding through her.
It was impossible to tear her gaze from his blue-eyed stare.
His laugh was rich and warm and sent warmth spiralling all the way down to her toes.
She swallowed hard, feeling confused and a little annoyed.
Why was he in the greenhouse, disconcerting her and making it harder for her to explore the collection?
She could not focus. Blushing hotly, she bent down over her book.
She heard footsteps and she looked up to see Lord Redfield heading to where she was sitting.
She bit her lip, her heart thudding, and took refuge in annoyance.
Why was he bothering her? Surely, he could see that she was busy?
She looked down at her work, determined to pay him no attention.
The effect he had on her unsettled her, and in response, she found herself irritated with him—or perhaps it only felt like irritation.
“You are very accomplished in drawing,” he murmured.
Penelope looked up, surprised by the choice of wording.
“I do not consider it an accomplishment. It is a necessary part of my work. But thank you,” she murmured, not wanting to offend him. He had complimented her, after all, and she was still blushing from the compliment.
She held his gaze, seeing him smile.
“You are modest, I think. Though I admit my choice of words was poor. It is clearly not some affectation meant to impress society.” His grin widened at her soft chuckle.
“No, it is certainly not that.” She couldn’t help a faintly bitter smile. Her interest in plants had never been a quality likely to impress society.
“I have upset you,” Lord Redfield murmured.
“No. No, not at all,” she said quickly, eager to reassure him. “It is simply that my love of plants is not exactly viewed as suitable for a young lady.”
He grinned. “Good. The range of suitable accomplishments seems far too limited. We must broaden it, and you are something of a pioneer, it seems.”
Penelope giggled, delighted. “Perhaps,” she replied.
His gaze was serious as he held her own. “Truly, I believe that there is no such thing as an unsuitable pastime. If it is wholesome and interesting, then how can it be unsuitable?”
“True,” she murmured.
Across the room, Thomas seemed to notice the presence of the viscount and strode over to join them.
“Good morning, my lord.” He inclined his head. “I trust you slept well?”
“I did,” Lord Redfield agreed mildly. He gazed at Thomas with detached interest, and Penelope cleared her throat.
“My lord? If I might have the honour of introducing my brother?” she said hastily. “I present Mr Thomas Ainsworth. Thomas, may I introduce James Ridley, Viscount Redfield?” She swallowed hard. She was not accustomed to making introductions in society.
“I am delighted to meet you,” Thomas murmured, inclining his head.
“Delighted, Mr Ainsworth,” the viscount said lightly.
Penelope looked from one of them to the other, sensing some subtle tension, as if Thomas felt protective of her. She focused on the page in front of her, aware that she was making his duty as chaperone more difficult.
“I believe the earl is a relation of yours?” Thomas asked the viscount interestedly.
“Yes. A cousin,” Lord Redfield agreed firmly.
“He has a terrific collection here,” Thomas murmured.
“Thank you. I would inform him, but I do not wish to be shown around it for a fourth time,” Lord Redfield teased.
Penelope giggled. Thomas was laughing and, in that moment, the tension evaporated. Penelope smiled at her brother, happy to see him being himself.
“I am certain he is very proud of it,” Thomas assured him.
“I would say his pride is exceeded by his enthusiasm,” the earl’s cousin replied warmly.
They all laughed.
Penelope watched her brother talking to Lord Redfield in such an easy, direct way, smiling warmly. Thomas tended to remain aloof at gatherings, too reluctant to talk about his interests because so many people found them uninteresting. It was a pleasure to see him so quickly at ease with someone.
She looked down at her work, then looked up as someone appeared in the doorway. She tensed as she recognised the livery of Thornewood. The man had clearly been sent to summon them.
“I beg your pardon,” he stammered uncomfortably from the doorway. “But breakfast has begun to be served upstairs, if you would like to attend...?”
Penelope blinked in surprise. Had they truly spent an hour in the greenhouse? She pushed back her chair and rose to her feet. Thomas inclined his head.
“A grand notion. I am famished! My stomach is turning itself inside out, and were it not attached on either end, it would be firmly tied up by now.” He chuckled.
Lord Redfield laughed too, and Penelope was smiling as she walked with them to the door of the greenhouse and into the garden.
She glanced sideways at Lord Redfield, surprised and confused by his easy, friendly presence and its effect, and surprised by how pleased she was by his intrusion and the fact that he was accompanying them.
Breakfast with the house party would certainly be less tedious with him and Thomas to talk with.