Chapter 6
Chapter Six
“Do you believe we each have only one true love, Miss Hervey?”
A cold, bitter wind was blowing off the water this afternoon. Penelope tucked Lady Madeline’s arm tighter against her side and turned them off the main path, toward a more remote part of the garden.
When it came to a discussion of true love, a lady didn’t like to be interrupted.
Lady Madeline had waylaid her last night and shyly invited her to walk in the gardens today.
Penelope had accepted at once, but even now, with the crunch of the gravel pathway beneath her feet, she could hardly believe she was still here at Cliff’s Edge instead of crowded into a carriage on her way back to London.
It had been hours since her baffling conversation with Lord Archer in his study, but she still grew breathless whenever she thought of the look in his eyes when he’d agreed to let the play continue.
Since she thought of it every moment, respiration had proved quite a challenge today, especially when she recalled the way he’d leaned toward her, his lips parted as if he were going to kiss—
“What I mean is, what if we can’t be with our one true love? Does that mean we’re destined to live without love forever?”
Penelope jerked her attention back to Lady Madeline, her heart softening when she saw the troubled expression on the young lady’s face. She hadn’t the faintest doubt Lady Madeline was thinking of the scoundrel who’d tried to ruin her.
She’d hoped Lady Madeline would confide in her after last night’s performance, and she knew just how to answer her questions.
At eighteen, Lady Madeline was only two years younger than she was, and Penelope recalled with painful clarity how she’d felt at that age—how much her heart had ached for love.
And how easily I was duped, because of it.
She took a moment to carefully consider her answer.
“I suppose I do believe in one true love,” she said at last. “One person who was made for each of us, who holds our perfect happiness in their hands.” Dinah would say it was romantic nonsense, but Penelope stubbornly held onto her hopes, despite the elusiveness of perfect happiness in her own life.
“I believe it, too,” Lady Madeline confided on a deep sigh. “I think we only fall truly in love once in our lives.”
“That may be so, but I also think a young lady must heed the Christmas Angel’s advice about choosing our love wisely.
We often mistake infatuation for true love, and there’s a great danger in that.
” Penelope led Lady Madeline over to one of the stone benches, sat down, and patted the seat beside her.
“You’ve no idea, my lady, how easy it is for a rogue to hide his true nature under a handsome face and a charming smile. ”
Lady Madeline was quiet for a moment as she considered this, then she asked, “How does a lady tell the difference between a rogue and her one true love?”
Penelope took Lady Madeline’s hand in her own. “Oh, my dear. It’s simpler than you think. A gentleman who truly cares for you will never ask you to be dishonest with your brothers, or urge you to do something you know in your heart you oughtn’t do.”
“What…what sorts of things, Miss Hervey?”
“Well, I imagine a rogue might coax you into engaging in a secret correspondence with him, or otherwise persuade you to do something behind your brothers’ backs—something he knows they won’t approve of.
” Penelope leaned over to catch Lady Madeline’s eye.
“But I think you already know this, don’t you? ”
Lady Madeline had been listening with her head bowed, but now she raised her gaze to Penelope’s face, and her eyes were filled with tears. “Mr. Rowley is a rogue, isn’t he?”
Penelope sighed and squeezed Lady Madeline’s hand. “I’m afraid so. Oh, my dear. Don’t cry. He’s not worth your tears.”
But Lady Madeline did cry, just a little, and Penelope sat quietly beside her until her tears stopped, and she offered Penelope a watery smile. “You’re so easy to talk to, Miss Hervey. Much easier than my brothers.”
Penelope laughed. “Yes, brothers are rather hopeless when it comes to a younger sister’s tragic love affair. Don’t be too hard on them. They care very much for you.”
Lady Madeline swiped her glove over her cheek, drying the last of her tears. “I know. I’m fortunate to have them. I’ve, ah…I’ve given them quite a hard time these past few weeks, especially Will.”
Penelope thought of the concern in Lord Archer’s dark blue eyes when he’d spoken of his sister yesterday—the love there, and her heart rushed into her throat. He was a lovely elder brother. It was such a pity he couldn’t see it himself.
“I wish I had brothers like yours.” Penelope was quiet for a moment as she watched the wind chase gray clouds across the sky. “If I had, perhaps they would have saved me from making the mistakes I did, and my life would be very different now.”
Lady Madeline hesitated, then laid a gentle hand on Penelope’s arm. “Have you ever been in love, Miss Hervey?”
“I thought I was, once. It was a long time ago.” Not so long, really, but Penelope felt like a dozen lifetimes had passed since then.
What a foolish child she’d been! It was easy enough to see that now, but at the time she’d fancied herself in love, just as Lady Madeline did.
“I thought he was my one true love, but he…well, he wasn’t, and by the time I realized it, it was too late for me. ”
Lady Madeline squeezed her hand. They both fell silent, each of them lost in their own thoughts until finally, Penelope stirred. “Goodness, it’s cold, isn’t it? You’re shivering. Go on in, and warm yourself by the fire.”
“I must look a fright.” Lady Madeline rose from the bench. “Won’t you come back inside with me?”
“You go ahead. I’ll follow along in a little while.”
Lady Madeline glanced at Penelope’s thin coat with concern. “All right, but you won’t stay long, will you?”
Penelope smiled. “Not long at all. I promise.”
She sat for a while after Lady Madeline had gone, inhaling the frigid air. The icy blasts tore at her skirts with vicious fingers, but Penelope found herself reluctant to return to the house. She didn’t mind the cold, and she’d have little enough access to fresh air when she returned to London.
As it was, a great deal more iciness was headed her way.
She saw the tip of the white ostrich feather first, and a shiver of apprehension darted down her spine. Lady Lavinia’s boots made a determined crunch against the gravel as she drew closer, but the sound was quickly drowned out by her voice, so cold it put the wind to shame.
“…that scandalous actress and her friend,” Lady Lavinia was saying. “You can be sure I left Lord Archer in no doubt as to my wishes on that subject.”
Penelope’s lips curved in a grim smile. Oh, dear. It sounded as if Lady Lavinia hadn’t enjoyed the play last night. How unfortunate.
“What, you mean to say you’re going to chase off Miss Hervey and Miss Bishop? Dash it, Lavinia, I want to see the rest of the play!” It was Lady Lavinia’s cousin, Lord Notley speaking.
“Not that Archer and his brothers are much better,” Lady Lavinia went on in scathing tones, as if Lord Notley hadn’t spoken. “Lord Christopher is a wastrel, and if Lord Oliver hasn’t learned his lesson after being shot in a duel, he never will.”
“Now that’s just unfair, Lavinia. The Angels are a bit wild, certainly, but they’re good fellows, for all their—”
“They’re nothing of the sort. If Lord Archer truly wants to mend his wicked ways, he’d do well to mind his own affairs and let his brothers mind theirs.”
Penelope didn’t much care what Lady Lavinia’s opinions were on any subject, but this nasty speech made her gnash her teeth together. Lord Archer wasn’t a perfect man, but he cared a great deal for his family. Penelope doubted he’d appreciate Lady Lavinia’s cold dismissal of his brothers.
“What about Lady Madeline?” Lord Notley asked. “She’s a lovely, sweet thing. I daresay she’ll make a handsome match this season.”
“She’s pretty enough, but a silly chit, with all sorts of foolish, romantic notions, and then she’s tainted by her brothers’ disgraces.” Lady Lavinia let out a derisive snort. “You can be sure I won’t trouble myself much to find her a match. She’ll take what she can get and be glad of it.”
Why, Lady Lavinia was a monster. One had only to look into Lady Madeline’s blue eyes to see her sweetness, her loveliness. It filled Penelope with rage to hear Lady Lavinia speak of her so callously.
Lord Notley found this speech as appalling as Penelope did. “Dear God, Lavinia! How cold you are. I feel quite sorry for Lady Madeline.”
Penelope did too, but she felt even sorrier for Lord Archer. How miserable he’d be, married to such a woman!
“If you choose to waste your pity on Lady Madeline, that’s your concern, but I shan’t give it a second thought, Notley. I don’t have much interest in Lord Archer’s brothers and sister.”
“Plenty of interest in Archer’s fortune though, eh, cousin?”
Lord Notley’s voice was hard with anger, but Lady Lavinia didn’t seem to notice.
“Well, of course. Why else would I marry a Tainted Angel? No proper lady fancies having a scoundrel for a husband. Indeed, if he truly wants to reform, he could make a start by tossing those infamous theatrical harlots out of his house.”
Lady Lavinia and Lord Notley moved on then, but Penelope stayed where she was. She was shaking inside her thin coat, but not from the cold.
No, she was shaking with fury.
It’s nothing to do with you. It’s not your concern.
No, it wasn’t. Lord Archer was a grown man, and a wealthy peer. He could marry whom he liked. Her only concern should be getting her hands on the ten pounds she owed Silas.
It was utter folly for her to even consider interfering…
But Lady Lavinia isn’t Lord Archer’s one true love.