Chapter 3 #2
“You must excuse me,” Penelope said, her voice unwavering, though her teeth ground together, her words dripping with cold politeness. “I have spent enough time with ladies who find themselves so invested in the failings of others. I think I shall refresh my drink in peace.”
She stared pointedly at Lady Worthington until the lady pulled her group away, muttering under her breath.
Violet, ever quick to respond, took Penelope’s arm with a gentle squeeze. Trying to still her trembling hands as she poured, Penelope could still feel Lady Worthington’s eyes on her, the sting of her words lingering like a bitter aftertaste.
Behind her, Amelia sighed softly. “She is insufferable.”
Penelope nodded, though she was glad that Amelia had remained composed. “She does not know how to speak without making people feel small.”
“Small?” Amelia snorted. “She is so concerned about my figure, but I think her mouth is the thing that needs some control.”
Violet chuckled at that, but Penelope’s thoughts remained occupied by the exchange. She hadn’t wanted to engage, but Lady Worthington had drawn her into it, nonetheless.
“It is hard to avoid the barbs when they are so eager to throw them at you,” Penelope said, her voice low. “And it is impossible to explain to them that I have no interest in participating in their little games.”
Amelia gave her a wry smile. “And yet, here they are, poking at us, assuming we will bite.”
As they neared a quiet corner of the garden where some of the men stood clustered around a table laden with drink, Penelope stiffened as she saw her brother-in-law, Charles Cadden, making his way toward them.
His presence always made her skin crawl, and as he approached, her gut twisted uneasily. He looked frailer than when she had last seen him the day before she’d left London.
His blonde hair was getting grayer with each visit, and as much as Penelope loathed his company, he was her only hope of keeping the late Earl’s estates until Nicholas came of age.
“Lady Romwich,” Charles crooned, overly charming. He took Penelope’s hand, his grip lingering for just a moment too long. “It’s good to see you out, my dear. Quite a charming gathering, would you not agree?”
Penelope felt a flash of discomfort when his hand brushed too close to her wrist, and she couldn’t suppress the flinch that ran through her.
“Of course,” she said with a tight smile. “It is a lovely day.”
“The countryside seems to be doing you well.” His gaze roamed over her, his fingers finally dropping from her wrist. “It is a shame my brother cannot see the flush your cheeks. Most pretty.”
Penelope winced. “Thank you, though it was necessary to come here, as you know. It is strange to see you out of London, I must say, for a mere garden party.”
“Well, when I heard you would be in attendance, I could not pass up the chance for a little greeting. After all, you have not answered any of my correspondence as of late.”
“We have been assisting her integration into the countryside’s social scene,” Amelia jumped in quickly to save Penelope from making up an excuse. Amelia’s wasn’t entirely untrue.
At that, Charles’ gaze slid to Amelia, his lip curling. “Amelia,” he greeted coldly.
Her smile was frigid. “Charles.”
The two had met occasionally when the families had dined together, but Amelia knew Penelope’s distaste for the man, and had her own similar opinion.
“And Lady Violet.” He bowed to Penelope’s friend. “I trust you are following your mother’s footsteps with your societal position. Your popularity will make your future husband most happy one day, should your father finally approve a match for you.”
Violet’s smile turned into a grimace. “My father is ensuring I have a perfect husband, Mr. Cadden.”
“Or perhaps he is just reluctant to let you out into the world, fearing losing his precious daughter who entices the men he can do business with. It is all a game in this society, no?”
“Charles,” Penelope interrupted. “I believe your associates are looking for you.” She nodded to where the group of men he had been standing with were looking in their direction.
Likely, they were either judging Penelope or eyeing up Violet.
Charles paid them no mind, turning his sharp gaze back onto Penelope. “I was hoping we might have a private word. There are a few matters to discuss regarding Nicholas’s future and the estate.”
Penelope’s heart skipped a beat.
Nicholas’s future.
She could already guess what he was about to say.
Charles had been pushing her to let him take a more active role in her son’s life ever since the former Earl of Romwich had died. But Penelope knew exactly who Charles was: a man who cared only for his own advancement, a man who would use her son as a pawn to solidify his control over the estate.
Before she could decline, Violet stepped forward, linking her arm through Penelope’s elbow.
“As much as I am certain Penelope would love to speak with you, I did promise her a go at Pall Mall.”
“I am certain Lady Romwich can decide for herself,” Charles noted with a raised brow. “Penelope?”
“I also wished to take a turn around the rose garden with you,” Amelia said, trying her own excuse to get Penelope out of the private chat.
“Indeed,” Penelope said, backing away. “We did have plans, Charles, so not right—”
Charles moved closer to her, his head bending low to her face. “Do not deny me, Penelope, not after you have ignored my other attempts at contact.”
“Charles.” She winced at his closeness.
“Now, now,” he purred, threat dripping in his voice, “no need to make a scene. Your friends can wait a moment for you, can they not? We will talk, and then you can return to your frivolous, little activities you women do.”
Penelope chewed the inside of her cheek before sighing and nodded. She glanced back at Violet and Amelia.
“I will be right back,” she promised them, and followed Charles to an empty corner of the garden.
The laughter and chatter of the party faded, but Penelope could keep her friends in her sight. They would intervene if Charles became too much.
“All right,” she exhaled, “what is it you wish to discuss?”
Charles fixed her with a satisfied smile. “Well, I wanted to share some news with you. I am staying nearby while I do some estate renovations, and from what I recall, Romwich Hall is not so far away from where I will be residing.”
Penelope’s chest tightened. “Oh? Oh, well I hope you enjoy the village—”
“I shall cut to the chase,” he interrupted sharply. “With this proximity comes the want to see my nephew. I am the one keeping the estate for him, after all, so he ought to look up to me. He lacks a male role model, and I can provide that. Heavens knows my brother did not.”
Penelope’s heart sank. If Charles truly was moving to the area, there would be very little ways of stopping him from seeing Nicholas. “I… I am certain we can arrange something at some point, but right now, he is focused on his tutoring and I do not wish to interrupt his focus.”
“And I can help him with his studies,” Charles immediately quipped. “Do you not think it is about time he looked up to me? He needs someone to show him how things are done. Surely you see that?”
Nicholas needed no such thing. She was perfectly capable of raising him herself. He didn’t need Charles, didn’t need a man who thought nothing of manipulating others for his own gain, and his reputation circulated society often enough.
“As I said, I am sure he will meet with you in time,” Penelope said as evenly as she could manage, though her hand clenched into a fist at her side. “But I don’t want him pressured into a relationship based on obligation.”
Charles’s smile didn’t falter, but there was something colder in his eyes now. He leaned closer, his breath too warm against her skin.
“Do not be foolish, Penelope. It is not about obligation. It is about doing what’s best for him. And perhaps, if you gave me the time of day, you would understand that.”
Penelope stepped back, her skin prickling with discomfort.
“We are doing fine on our own.” Her voice was steady, though the words tasted like acid in her mouth.
“I am grateful that I have you to handle the affairs of the estate, but we do not need to pretend as though we are truly family. Nicholas is perfectly wonderful without anybody else coming into his life.”
“Surely he asks about his father?”
“Not as much as he once did,” she countered. “Nicholas is growing up to be a polite, wise boy without the need for any influence.”
However, Charles wasn’t listening to her. She could see just how much her words weren’t reaching him. Charles stepped closer, placing his hand on her arm as though claiming some sort of ownership.
“Let me help you, Penelope. You’ve had a rough go of things, and I am willing to be a support, as I always have been. You are a beautiful woman, still, and much too young to be widowed. The marriage mart will not take you back, and it is a shame, truly, for it is losing a true jewel.”
His other hand raised, as if to stroke it down her cheek, but Penelope leaned away from him, her heart thudding painfully in her chest.
“I do not need your help,” she said firmly, though she could hear the tremor in her voice.
Charles’s smile didn’t falter, but his eyes darkened with something else now, an edge of menace. “You will,” he whispered. “You will see, for what other option do you have except to live the rest of your years lonely and unwed?”
Before Penelope could respond, or let his words get to her, Violet and Amelia came up on either side of her, already tugging her away.
“I believe you have had your several moments with my niece,” Amelia said brightly. “We do not wish for her to lose out on all the fun of the party.”
“Indeed.” Charles’ eyes didn’t leave Penelope, though. “Do enjoy your afternoon, ladies.”
With one last lingering look, Charles strode away and returned to his group. Penelope unclenched her jaw, sighing in relief.