Chapter Six
Penny remained shocked that she’d done something so intimate and wicked to the major. And it had been interesting, as well, to watch him hit release. The expression on his face had been breathtaking and beautiful. Nothing she’d ever experienced with her husband.
Here, tucked away in their temporary escape from the world with the snow lightly falling and her breath clouding about her head, she could easily pretend her marriage hadn’t happened and that she’d been with the major this whole time.
Silly girl. He is not for you, and truly, he’s not the marrying kind.
Not that she wanted that anyway. Freedom was too tempting. “It’s a lovely night,” she said in a hushed whisper as she gave into a shiver, for without being in his arms, the cold pressed in on her.
“Agreed.” Then, with a faint grin, Cornelius removed his tailcoat and then draped it over her shoulders. “Put this around yourself. I don’t want you catching cold.”
“Won’t you suffer instead?” But she was only too glad to wrap the garment about her shoulders.
He shrugged before he retrieved his cane. “I was trained to survive tougher circumstances than this.”
“Yet you are no longer in the military.”
“The training is always with me.”
“Ah.” Penny nodded. “May I ask you a personal question?” It seemed relevant to their hidden world of the moment.
“Of course.”
She heaved out a breath. “In a roundabout way, it has to do with Johnathan as well.”
“Oh?”
“Earlier today at the bookshop, when he kept talking to me while you were…” She cleared her throat.
“Do you believe my brother was serious when he hinted at not being here? Is he so far gone in his mind as to wish to remove himself from this mortal coil?” It was always a worry regarding Johnathan, but she couldn’t do much about it while she’d been married.
“Ah, Penny, that is difficult to answer.” Confliction went through is expression. “And I don’t know that I should even tackle such a conversation while out in the cold.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“Though I know a bit of what he’s struggling with, it might not be what I grapple with in my mind.
” The major blew out a breath, and it clouded about his head.
“War is destructive, not just on the men fighting in it or the property that is destroyed, but also on a man’s mind.
We are taught to kill arbitrability, to remove from our conscious thinking that our enemies are fellow humans.
Every kill takes a piece of our minds, our souls.
To say nothing of what the conditions while on the march did to our psyches and bodies. ”
“But would he do harm to himself because he is unable to talk about what haunts him?”
He evaded the inquiry. “The war, as well as things surrounding it, affected us differently.”
“Don’t play coy, Major.” She rested a hand on his forearm. “That didn’t answer my question, and now I’m quite worried.”
“No, I don’t suppose it did.” He took her arm and strolled back through the square toward the townhouse.
“The answer is I don’t know. Birchfield is my best friend, but there are some things he’s held back from me, some things I’ve held back from him.
We might understand what we’ve both been through, but we can’t bear to bring those things out in the light to have them mock us for our weakness in not being able to face them. ”
An interesting way to look at it. “Was it truly that bad?”
“Whatever you can imagine, it was worse.” His muscles went taut beneath her fingertips. “I wouldn’t wish such things on even my worst enemy, and no one should need to make the decisions on who lives and who dies.”
Unable to comfort him as she’d like, Penny patted his arm. “I’m sorry.”
He nodded. “As am I.”
While they walked, silence grew between them, but it wasn’t the sort filled with awkward tension. Instead, it was a companionable sort of quiet that made her feel satisfied. His scent clung to the greatcoat, and she wanted nothing more than to burrow into the crisp aroma.
As a young woman, she would have reveled in this moment, in the fact that he was solicitous toward her, that he didn’t mind spending time with her.
That he saw her as a woman at all instead of his best friend’s little sister.
But oddly, it was different than she’d imagined in a way.
Time had tarnished yet hadn’t fully warped those ideals.
To be honest, she didn’t know what she felt toward him, except she desperately wanted to know what it would feel like to be bedded by this man who held sway over women in London—eligible and not alike.
Penny didn’t want marriage, and she suspected he didn’t either, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy each other for a bit of scandal.
Eventually, they arrived at the gate at the rear of the garden. “Shall I escort you back inside?”
The sound of his voice wrenched her from the thoughts. “No, thank you. Could you take me home instead?”
Concern shadowed his eyes in the darkness. “You wish to quit the rout?”
“Yes.” In the event he didn’t understand, she nodded.
“Is it because of what we did in the trees?”
“No, of course not. That was just another bit of insanity, and I rather enjoyed myself.”
“Then why? Undoubtedly, your brother will have questions once he realizes you are gone.”
“Stop.” She stayed his steps with a hand to his chest. “I am not in the mood for shallow conversations, men who size me up as if I were a piece of cattle or a number in a ledger book, or the jealous looks from women competing for the same men in the room.” At least it was the truth.
For long moments, he peered down at her. “What do you want instead?”
That was quite the question, for there were several answers she could tell him. “I… I want a quiet place to talk and a listening ear. Can you manage that?”
“For you? Of course.” Instead of going into the garden, he led her around the side of the house to the front.
“Thank you.”
While Cornelius went off to the mews, Penny sneaked into the entry hall and quietly collected her wrap and his greatcoat. They’d temporarily misplaced the major’s top hat, but she told them it was fine. He’d return for it later.
Once in the carriage, she gave him his tailcoat and greatcoat, and there was a moment of sadness that she didn’t have his garment to snuggle into any longer.
Her shawl wasn’t nearly as adequate. On the ride across Mayfair to St. James’s Place, she and Cornelius sat in silence on opposite benches.
Perhaps their thoughts were too heavy for the cold air outside, or like he’d said, they were of a subject that couldn’t easily be shared for fear of being shown as vulnerable.
It didn’t matter, for being with him in this capacity was as satisfying as anything else.
The driver rapped on the ceiling. “Arriving, Major!”
That brought Penny again out of her thoughts, and she wasn’t ready to quit his company so soon.
“Will you come in and take tea with me? Or even imbibe of Weymouth’s spirits before his brother gets at them?
I…” She cleared her throat. “I’d rather not be alone.
I’ve grown weary of that these past two years. ”
Briefly, he rested a hand on her knee. Tingles shot upward to lodge between her thighs. “I’d be a fool to turn down such an invitation.”
Those words made her uncommonly happy. Then the driver opened the door and put down the steps.
A half hour later, the requested tea service was brought to the drawing room and the fire tended to.
She told the butler that Major Montgomery would be in residence for the next couple of hours, and since he was an old friend of the family and they wished to reminisce, she would appreciate the privacy.
The butler didn’t show any reaction, but he did close the double doors. Not that she cared. Once her husband’s brother arrived, she would move out of the large townhouse and finally have someplace to call her own.
With her teacup in hand, she settled into one of the low sofas with her legs stretched out in front of her and her feet propped on a small, embroidered cushion. It was strange, but she could almost feel the worry and anxiety melt from her person merely from Cornelius being there.
Perhaps she imagined it because she was bemused by being in his company and that summer day long ago overshadowing everything.
Or not.
She glanced at him from over the rim of her teacup. “When my brother spoke of Weymouth, he wasn’t wrong.”
“Meaning?” He frowned as he poured a half measure of brandy into his cup. “Or rather, I wasn’t in Town during the course of your marriage, and Birchfield never spoke of the marquess to me through letters exchanged, but I can imagine you were lonely, from all you’ve told me.”
“I was, and a little bit lost.”
“Feel free to talk if you think it might help. I’m a better listener than a conversationalist when it comes to me being the subject matter.”
“Which is odd, since you are supposedly such a rake.”
“A veneer, perhaps.” Shadows filled his brown eyes. “Unavoidable.”
“Lies to protect ourselves. We are all guilty of it.” Slowly, she nodded. After a sip of tea, she swallowed. “Weymouth was my father’s friend, quite a bit older than me, of course, but my father promised I’d be treated well. Which I was. Papa offered a large dowry, but the marquess turned it down.”
“The least Weymouth could have done was put it into an account for your own use.”