Chapter 14
14
Mrs Harding found Penny during the servants’ supper hour in the scullery. The small room was crowded with wooden crates of glasses brought up from storage. Coggins had been true to his word, denying her dinner. Instead, she was to polish every single glass. He threatened to garnish her wages if he found a single smudge. An impossible thing to control when so many hands would be touching the glasses before they made their way on silver trays to the lords and ladies at the masque. But Penny wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of defeating her. Instead, she polished away her dinner hour, imagining thick slices of bread slathered in butter, dripping pieces of chicken fresh from the roasting pan, apple pie covered in clotted cream. It didn’t stop her stomach from growling, but it kept her mind busy while completing such a mindless task.
‘Coggins told me you had visitors.’ Mrs Harding’s grey hair was pulled into a tight bun. Her pristine apron, whiter than a virgin’s virtue, glowed in the dim light.
‘I did.’ She had no wish to explain Millicent’s visit to the housekeeper. Mrs Harding would likely find Penny’s guests as suspicious as Mr Coggins.
‘Funny, the connection that can develop between a servant and her employer.’ Mrs Harding pressed her lips together in a hard line. ‘I knew a maid who once fell in love with her employer, if you can imagine that. I was only five years into service at the time. We shared a room not much bigger than yours, though ours was always wet and stinking of mould.’
Penny scrunched her nose.
‘Yes, exactly. I warned the girl not to get swept away. He was the first son of a viscount, set to inherit his father’s title, money, lands. Everything. He would never defy his family and risk losing all of it just to marry the scullery maid. More likely, she would carry the boy’s bastard, lose her job, be forced to give up her child or her livelihood. Perhaps both.’
Penny focused on rubbing the glass with a soft cloth, her gaze fixed on the goblet. ‘It certainly happens to many girls not wise with their choices. I hope she heeded your advice.’
Mrs Harding gave a small, nearly silent laugh. ‘She did not. And as it turns out, I was wrong. He did run off with her. For a time, his father denied the lad his inheritance. They rented rooms in the village, and he tried his hand at brewing beer. She fell pregnant. Maybe that’s what changed the old viscount’s heart, or perhaps it was his declining health. He called them back before his death, gave the young man everything. Last I heard, they were happily living in his country estate, three children, and he still brews beer. She got it all, Penny. Love, children, wealth. All because she was willing to defy the expectations of her peers and reach for the stars. People are funny. Just when you think you understand them, they can surprise you.’
Penny risked looking up from her glass. Mrs Harding stared at her intently, her face a careful mask of neutrality. She really was an exemplary housekeeper. Keeping her thoughts and feelings hidden from everyone. ‘You received a message.’ She handed Penny a folded note. Without another word, she turned and left Penny to her polishing.
Penny recognised the hand that scrawled her name. She tucked the missive into her apron, picking up a new glass. No one enquired about the oddity of an illiterate woman receiving mail because the staff weren’t aware she couldn’t read. Although, with the new tutor set to arrive the following week, some people might soon discover her ignorance. But when she opened the paper, this note didn’t have a confusing mix of letters strewn over the cream surface. Instead, it had a clock. Both hands pointed to twelve. Constable Sweet wanted to meet with her. At midnight.
Instead of excitement, Penny felt a heavy dread.
She wasn’t ready to give the letter she found to Constable Sweet. But nor could she afford to wait. While so much evidence pointed to Liam’s guilt, not the least, the Queen’s interest in him, her instincts told a different tale. And her instincts had never steered her wrong before.
‘It’s an impossible situation,’ she whispered to the glass.
The glass had no helpful advice to give her.
And why would Mrs Harding tell her the story about the maid and the viscount? Did she suspect Penny’s attraction to Liam? Was she that transparent? Or had Liam given them away somehow to his housekeeper?
‘Nothing makes sense any more.’
Again, the glass remained unhelpfully silent.
Then there was her visit with Millicent, Ivy and Hannah. Millicent, urging her to change her stars.
‘How the bloody hell am I supposed to do that?’ The glass squeaked as she rubbed harder. ‘Exactly. I can’t just leap into the unknown like some silly ninny expecting to fly when I know I’ll crash.’
What if her instincts were wrong and Liam was guilty? The evidence certainly led her in that direction. Harriet could finally be out of her cell. And Liam would be taking her mother’s place in shackles. The image of his shoulders slumped, his head hanging in defeat, broke something fragile and bright within Penny. She didn’t want him to be guilty.
What kind of daughter chooses a man over her mother?
Every woman was tasked with leaving her family to cleave to her husband’s. But Liam would never be Penny’s husband. And she would never leave her mother in a prison cell. Regardless of Mrs Harding’s story, a girl couldn’t change her stars. Not when so many of Penny’s stars were falling.
She kept polishing as evening fell to the darkest hours of night and the household slowly slipped into sleep. Putting the last glass back in its straw-packed crate, she walked to the kitchen. Waiting for the clock to strike midnight, Penny stared into the dying embers, wishing for the impossible. Liam’s innocence. Her mother’s freedom. The courage to defy society’s dictates. The power to catch all her falling stars and throw them back into the sky in a pattern that fit.
Had it only been two weeks since her last meeting with Constable Sweet? Two weeks since she met Liam for the first time, and yet it felt like a lifetime.
A scratch on the wood pulled Penny from her reverie. She moved quickly, opening the creaking kitchen door and slipping outside.
‘Are you well, little dove?’ Constable Sweet’s familiar face peered out of the shadows. His moustache caught the lamplight from the kitchen and she noticed how grey it was. His face was creased with new lines of worry and his eyes flitted over her anxiously.
‘I am very well. Are you, Constable Sweet?’ She reached out and put a reassuring hand on his coat sleeve. The wool was wet from evening mist.
‘There are rumours swirling, Penny. We’re running out of time.’
Alarm thrilled through her. ‘Whatever do you mean?’
Constable Sweet stepped closer, tobacco and mint filling the air between them. ‘I was in Commissioner Worthington’s office the other day, reporting on our borough. Our meeting was interrupted by none other than the prime minister himself.’
Penny’s eyes grew round. ‘Did you actually see him?’ She couldn’t imagine rubbing shoulders with such powerful men. Although, she was on a first-name basis with the Duchess of Dorsett, and one could argue her power to influence the Queen certainly rivalled Prime Minister Russell’s. But this didn’t seem the time to mention her affiliation with Philippa.
Constable Sweet raised his bushy eyebrows and winked at Penny. ‘I did more than see him, dove. I kept close to the door and heard every word they said to each other.’ He tapped his left earlobe. ‘I might be getting older, but there’s nothing wrong with my hearing.’
‘Constable Sweet! Eavesdropping on the prime minister and commissioner? What if you’d been caught?’
The constable’s moustache twitched as he winked at Penny. ‘There now, dove. Don’t you worry about me. Most of police work is being in the right place at the right time with your ear to the right door. Now, do you want to hear what I learned or keep scolding me like a sour old school marm?’
Of course she wanted to hear his news. She pressed her lips together and nodded.
Pulling his pipe and a tin of tobacco out of his pocket, Constable Sweet methodically began stuffing the bowl. ‘The prime minister has his own men working on the case. If they find evidence against Lord Renquist before we do, they’ll be no reward money for you, no promotion for me.’ He didn’t need to mention what that would mean for Penny’s mother.
‘Blast! So even the prime minister is focused on Li… Lord Renquist?’ It didn’t bode well for his chances of being innocent.
‘They’re all coming to this ball tomorrow. The prime minister’s men used to be friends of Renquist’s. You know one of their wives. Major General Drake’s new lady.’
‘Millicent?’
‘Aye, she’s the one. The other bloke’s a duke. Lieutenant General Killian, Duke of Everton.’
Hannah’s husband. So, Millie and Hannah will be at the masque as well.
Constable Sweet clamped the end of the pipe between his teeth, sucking air even though it wasn’t lit. ‘Powerful men who have the advantage of knowing Renquist. You’ve got to keep your eye on them. Wherever they go, you be there as well. Best thing about being a domestic: no one notices you.’
Penny’s tummy flittered like a bowl of butterflies. ‘Constable Sweet, all the servants have been given the night off. We aren’t going to be working the masque.’
Constable Sweet pulled the pipe from his mouth, his eyes widened, and his mouth turned down in a frown. ‘What kind of daft loon doesn’t use his servants to staff a ball?’
Penny shrugged, feeling unaccountably defensive of Liam. ‘One who wants to give his staff a well-deserved night off.’
‘Bugger me. Not exactly the best timing for your lord to be getting generous with his servants.’
‘He’s not my lord,’ Penny mumbled. Though she wished he was. A wild idea sparked in her mind. Liam’s invitation which seemed so insane and far too tempting when he suggested it the night before could be the answer. ‘Don’t worry. I’ve got a plan, Constable. If the prime minister’s men find any evidence about the marquess, I’ll know it. I swear.’ Because she would be at the ball. But not as Penny Smith the servant. She would be attending as a member of the beau monde. Hiding in the glittering candlelight sparkling from the thousand crystals she’d polished on the massive chandelier. After all, who would ever notice one more masked lady at a masque ball?
Constable Sweet blinked hard. ‘What plan, Penny?’
‘I can’t explain. But trust me.’
‘I always trust you, dove. But these blighters are dangerous men. If he’s one of ’em, and he finds out what you’re up to, he’d kill you for sure.’
Fear thrilled through Penny, but she quickly squashed it. Liam would do many things to her, all of them wicked, but kill her? Impossible. While she was unsure of his dealings with the Devil’s Sons, she was certain he would never intentionally harm her.
‘I’ll be careful, Constable. I swear it. Besides, no matter how powerful they are, the Devil’s Sons won’t commit murder in the middle of a masque. The entire beau monde has been invited. Even the chancellor. Mrs O’Brian was gossiping about it to the kitchen staff this afternoon. You should have seen her. Bragging about the cream of the crop eating her food. She’s the only one not taking the night off. Told me she doesn’t trust anyone but herself with the menu.’
Constable Sweet tucked his pipe between his teeth again, shaking his head slowly. ‘I don’t feel right about this, Penny. Maybe the risk isn’t worth the reward. If anything were to happen to you, how could I live with myself?’
‘Nothing is going to happen to me. I can take care of myself, Constable Sweet. And any risk is worth taking if it gets Mother out of prison.’
He squinted at her in the dim light of the moon. ‘You know, no matter what happens, I’ll watch after Harriet.’ His gaze homed in on the cut still healing on her cheek. ‘I heard some rumours about the prison and all. Talk of a guard who found himself on the wrong end of some bad business. He had himself an accident while walking a young woman out of the prison and no one’s seen him since. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?’
Warmth crept from Penny’s belly to her cheeks. She wondered if the guard had actually heeded Liam’s threats and booked travel to the continent, or even the Americas. In the darkest hours of the night, she feared he might have returned to the prison to take out his thwarted rage on her mother. Only a fool would be so brazen, but he seemed the type to hold a grudge. She supposed he prized his life over his pride, and knowing her guess was confirmed relieved some of her anxiety.
‘I don’t know anything about any missing guards, but it sounds like perhaps his absence isn’t any great loss.’
‘Hmph.’ Constable Sweet chomped down on the pipe neck and spoke around it. ‘You promised me you’ll take care of yourself. You’re a girl who keeps her promises. Don’t forget that.’
‘I won’t, Constable Sweet. I’ll keep my promise. I swear it.’
He made another noncommittal grunt.
Penny gripped the door handle. ‘I must get back to my room, Constable Sweet. Mrs Harding is on a tear right now with the ball tomorrow. She wants all of us rested and at our best for last-minute preparations before our night off.’
Constable Sweet hunched into his coat. ‘I don’t like this, dove. But you will do as you want, won’t you? Stubborn girl that you are.’
‘Determined, Constable Sweet.’
Maybe even courageous enough to change my stars.
Constable Sweet harrumphed once more. ‘I won’t be able to see you for another week. I don’t like leaving it so long, especially with this ball coming up, but there’s no way ’round it. My lady- wife has a trip planned for us to Bath and she won’t take no for an answer. Had me put in for my annual leave months ago. I only get one week a year and I’m spending it with her and her sister.’ The painful grimace had his moustache twisting into a lopsided line on his hangdog features.
Penny tried to keep her smile hidden. Poor Constable Sweet! ‘Her sister will be joining you?’
He rolled his eyes. ‘She lives in Bath. She’s been wanting us to visit for years. I’ve always gotten out of it, but I can’t find any more excuses. You’re going to have to take care of yourself for a little while, dove. Promise me you’ll stay safe.’
She patted the dear man on his arm. ‘I doubt I will face as much peril as you on your holiday. I do hope you get to enjoy some of it.’ Imagining Constable Sweet strolling along the streets of Bath with his wife on one arm and his sister-in-law on the other created a bubble of mirth in her belly.
Penny stepped into the warmth of the kitchen as Constable Sweet shook his head sadly and turned to shuffle down the gravel drive. Pausing, he looked over his shoulder at her and she waved before he disappeared into the mist.
The constable had given her an unexpected gift. A reason to take Liam up on his offer of shedding her maid’s outfit for the night and donning the costume of a marchioness. If only for one evening.
Penny took a bracing breath. If she was going to risk so much, the chance of proving Liam guilty and losing him, the chance of proving Liam innocent and losing the reward money to free her mother, the chance of being discovered and losing everything, maybe she was brave enough to claim something for herself. Tonight. Before everything changed.
Liam rolled over, trying to find a comfortable position on his feather-padded mattress.
Ridiculous. How quickly I’ve become a soft, pampered peer.
He’d slept soundly on the ground while cunning Afghan soldiers hungry for vengeance against the British invasion threatening their lands were camped one hill away. But lying in his huge bed, naked, safe, covered in a warm duvet, sleep eluded him. Because he couldn’t stop thinking about one mahogany-haired, hazel-eyed, sharp-fisted woman.
Penny .
He huffed out a sigh and punched his pillow, almost missing the sound of his door creaking open.
Liam froze. Held his breath. Tensed his muscles. Reached for the dagger tucked in a special leather holder nailed to the back of his headboard.
Quiet footfalls inched over the thick, wool rug.
Vanilla. Clove. Soap.
Penny.
His muscles relaxed as his cock hardened. He slipped the dagger back into its sheath and feigned sleep.
She stopped at the side of his bed.
‘I know you’re awake.’
Bloody hell.
‘How?’ Liam grumbled as he turned over, sitting up on the bed. It was a full moon on a rare cloudless night. His curtains were pulled back, letting the silver beams spill into his room. He could see her in the pewter light and knew she could see him.
‘A servant knows.’ Penny’s gaze drifted over him, a slow caress.
‘Why are you here, Penny?’ He knew why he wanted her to be there. But it was too good to be true.
She bit her lip.
Liam groaned as his hopeful cock grew even harder. Thank God the duvet cover hid his need.
‘I know worlds separate us. I know this won’t last beyond tonight. And I know what I risk by coming here. But no matter what tomorrow holds, no matter how impossible this is, I want you. Now.’
All the moisture fled Liam’s mouth. ‘Are you sure?’ His voice was harsh in the quiet room.
‘I’m unsure about so many things. But I’m sure about this, my lord.’
The shape of her mouth as she spoke did strange and wonderous things to Liam, warming him, hardening him, destroying his control.
‘Liam.’ He wasn’t requesting she used his name. He was demanding it. If they were going to take this step, she damn well wasn’t going to call him “my lord”. They would approach this as equals.
She glanced back at him. ‘Liam.’
‘I agree to your proposal under one condition.’
She thrust out her chin; the warrior in her was ready to battle.
Oh good. She’s about to say something blistering and honest and gloriously uncouth.
‘You made the proposal. I am simply claiming what you offered.’
‘What I offered?’
‘Yes. You said if I wanted to explore other… options, you would be happy to do so. With me.’
‘And what options might those be?’
Penny swallowed. ‘Congress. Of the physical kind. With you. As long as you have one of those sheaths we discussed.’
‘I do. But I still have one condition.’
She didn’t reply, just nodded for him to continue.
‘This might be one night, but it must matter, Penny. To you and to me. Equally. Can you agree to that?’
She hesitated, her lids fluttering closed before she opened them and met his gaze. Her skin was glazed in silver light, her hazel eyes like midnight pools. ‘Yes. I can agree to that.’ She wrapped her flannel tight around her body.
Oh, no. That won’t do.
‘Take those off.’ Liam nodded to her robe and nightgown.
She took a step back. ‘I don’t, that is, you can’t just…’
‘Command you? Are you not commanding me? Fair is fair, Penny. Although I promise this. If you want to stop, at any time, for any reason, you need only say, and I will follow your orders without hesitation.’
‘What about you?’
‘What about me?’
‘What if you wish to stop?’
Liam pulled the covers aside. Penny’s gaze caught on his jutting cock and her eyes widened. Her mouth dropped open. ‘Oh dear.’
He slid out of the bed, standing close enough to feel the heat of her. ‘I don’t wish to stop. Not with you.’ Not ever. But he couldn’t say the words aloud. He wasn’t ready to admit she meant far more to him than one night of lust. And she wasn’t ready to hear it. In that, they were also equally matched. ‘Take off your robe.’
She held his stare, reaching up with shaking hands to pull her robe and nightgown down each shoulder in one fluid movement. The thin cotton pooled at her feet.
Her shaky breath almost broke him to pieces as she stood, gloriously naked in the moonlight, her skin glowing like a fairy. Full breasts tipped with puckered nipples. A narrow rib cage he could span with his hand. Her soft belly, succulently curved and as pale as a pearl. Wide hips flared and deliciously thick. He traced his hand down her side to grip the luscious globe of her generous bottom.
Her pixie eyes met his, full of apprehension, desire, courage.
God. I love her.
Oh dear, indeed.