Chapter Five
Manchester Square
Marylebone, London
After dressing in his requisite evening clothes, Cornelius popped down to his drawing room, and feeling restless, poured a measure of brandy into a cut-crystal glass.
He needed to clear his head, but there had been no time to go for a drive despite the cold air, all because he’d promised to attend a rout tonight in the hopes of seeing Penelope.
What the hell is wrong with you, Montgomery?
Taking a large gulp of the brandy, he swallowed and relished the burn of the alcohol in his throat as he delved deeper into his thoughts.
Yes, he’d dallied with women before, but he couldn’t evict Penny from his mind.
Yes, he’d fancied himself in love with her long ago before he’d left for the war, but that was when he’d been a different man, possibly a better man, and now the world had changed; he had changed.
And not in a good way. The war had taken much from him and had given nothing back except demons in his head and scars on his body.
As another sip burned its way down his throat, he continued to berate himself.
What sort of a man brought a marquess’s widow to release in a bookshop where God and everyone could have seen?
And she was his best friend’s sister besides?
He should behave toward her like a brother, yet there was an underlying attraction, a heated desire between them that rendered all the best intentions null, as evidenced by what he’d done to her earlier today.
“What the hell, Major?” The sound of Birchfield’s voice yanked Cornelius from his thoughts. “As I came up the road past your house, I noticed your carriage still at the curb and you not in it. Why do you delay?”
Well, damn.
He bit back a groan, for the last person he wanted to converse with was the earl. “How did you know I would attend the rout tonight?”
“I spoke with Penny earlier at home. Since she and I were attending the rout anyway, I said I would pick her up and escort her. She mentioned you’d dropped by the bookshop to say hello, and that she’d invited you to the rout.”
Cornelius’s chest tightened. At least she hadn’t told her brother everything that had happened. “Is she waiting in the carriage?”
“Yes. I didn’t expect to be up here long.”
“She must be freezing.” He downed the remainder of the brandy then set the glass on a nearby ivory-inlaid table.
The earl shrugged. “She has a heated brick for her feet and a fur-lined lap blanket. Besides, it would be improper for her to come inside a bachelor’s home.”
Cornelius’s mind scudded off to a wicked place.
Then it was all right for Penny to come inside the bookshop from his fingers and tongue?
Catching a grin at the last moment and keeping it from growing, he shook his head to clear the thoughts.
“My outer things are with the butler. We can leave at any time. I was only delaying because I detest the cold.”
“Fair enough.” Birchfield nodded. He peered closer at Cornelius. “You seem different tonight, old chap. What gives? Did you bed another beauty? Have a new woman under your protection already?”
Heat crept up the back of his neck. “Not exactly, but I did bring one to pleasure today.”
“Oh?” Interest lay stamped on his best friend’s face. “Do tell. Na?ve innocent, wicked widow, bored duchess?”
Dear God.
“What difference does it make?” Though he hadn’t said that lady had been Penny, it wouldn’t matter all that much if the name remained a secret.
The earl headed to the door. “She’s affected you differently, it seems.”
“How can you tell?”
“There is a lightness to your eyes that wasn’t there before. Shadows linger, of course, but you are more relaxed than you were last night.”
Was that true? Difficult to say. “What should I do about it?”
“Besides bed her?” Birchfield asked as they both entered the corridor and headed toward the stairs. “Why not pursue her and see what happens?”
Cornelius frowned. “Why?”
“You deserve to be settled in your life, have all the happiness you can. It’s not good for a man to go it alone, I think. Perhaps it will go a long way into helping your mental state.”
“I could say the same of you.” They were both quiet as they gained the floor below. “I shall give it some thought, but I rather doubt I’m looking for permanency.”
And God help him if the earl discovered it was his sister at the center of this discussion. On the other hand, if Birchfield managed to kill him, at least the nightmares would cease.
*
A half hour into the Fortners’ rout, Cornelius couldn’t imagine himself more bored than he was in that moment. It wasn’t much the rout itself, but the host and hostess trying to push their twin daughters upon every man who wasn’t married.
Additionally, he grew increasingly more annoyed with watching Penny speak with other men as Birchfield took her around and introduced her to them.
Damned Johnathan. Why couldn’t he just let his sister mingle and talk with whom she wanted?
Then he wondered why it mattered to him at all.
He had no right to her or her time, regardless of the scandal they’d gotten up to earlier that day.
Undoubtedly, she would be matched to someone, or at least highly encouraged to choose a few potential suitors, and by year’s end, one of those men would ask for her hand. All because her family considered her unable to make her own decisions or guide her own life.
With a stifled huff, Cornelius slowly made his way out of the drawing room. Before he could make his way down the staircase, a soft hail stopped him.
“Major, wait!” Urgency in Penny’s voice shivered over his skin.
He paused with his free hand on the newel post while a few guests laughed and chatted in the corridor outside the drawing room. Why did fate insist on tempting him? “What is it?” he asked as she caught him up.
The gown of gray-blue taffeta brought out the color of her eyes, but he couldn’t quite keep his gaze from the low-scooped bodice beneath the thin, crocheted, ivory shawl. A butterfly-shaped broach with blue stones inside the wings winked from her upswept hair.
“Where are you going?”
“Some place that isn’t here.” God, now he remembered why he hated being out in society.
It reminded him of everything he couldn’t have and all the things he would never be.
Yet he was a fool, especially where she was concerned.
“Would you stroll with me in the rear gardens? I’d like to hope it won’t be so damned hot down there. ”
“Oh, of course.” Surprise lined her face. “Why?”
“Why not?” He went down the stairs, and the whisper of skirting assured him that she followed.
“Besides, I, uh, wished to talk with you after what happened earlier today.” He gained the ground level and then immediately headed for the door at the rear of the house.
“Also, the company in the drawing room is beyond dull.”
“Agreed, on both counts, and I do adore walking in the brisk weather. Weymouth only enjoyed being outside when the weather was fair.” She made a sound in her throat he took for annoyance. “But there is a special sort of magic in walking while it’s raining or even snowing.”
The more he learned about her deceased husband, the more he thought the man an idiot not to spend the time with her.
“Do you wish to find a cloak or other garment to protect you from the winter’s chill?
” When she declined, he nodded and continued outside into the garden.
Immediately, the night closed around him.
He breathed in a deep lungful of crisp air and then let it out slowly.
“What you dared to do in the bookshop today…”
“I know, and it was not well done of me. Johnathan was right there. He could have seen, and yet I took full advantage of your inability to say anything.”
She strolled through the small space with a hand on his sleeve. “That wasn’t what I wanted to say.” Her fingers squeezed on his arm. “The sad fact was that I hadn’t been touched like that by my husband in many years before he died, so it was very much appreciated today.”
That shocked him. “Damn. I had no idea, but I am glad I was able to give you that release you’ve waited so long for.
” He’d succeeded where her husband had failed.
Then, feeling a bit wicked, he asked, “Would you like to walk in the square beyond? It’s late enough that not many people will be able, especially with the light snow. ”
“I would, but why would you offer?”
He shrugged. “So you can walk, for you enjoy it.” The glimpse of a budding smile that curved her mouth was well worth the effort of guiding her through the garden gate and into the square beyond.
When she wasn’t inclined to introduce a topic, he began.
“Tell me about your marriage. You’ve let slip enough bits and pieces that now I’m curious. Did you enjoy being married?”
An aggrieved huff escaped her. “It was difficult the first couple of years, but then we fell into a routine. He showered me with extravagant gifts, took me on trips, yet didn’t spend much time with me.
That wasn’t what I thought marriage would be at my age.
I’d always thought something was lacking. ”
Did she mean by bedroom endeavors? He was too much a coward to ask. “Many women would say that was a perfect union.”
“I am not those women.” Again, her spirit showed, and it had arousal surging through him.
“Mine was a lonely marriage on many fronts, if you want the truth. I passed the time with visiting friends or immersing myself in causes and charities. But since there was no chance of having children, I felt a bit trapped after a while, as if there were no purpose to me wedding the marquess.”
He nodded. “You wanted children?”
“I did. It was an overwhelming craving and as a young woman.”
Which she’d wasted on a sterile, emotionally bereft and inattentive man. “And now?”