Chapter Four
Penelope
Penelope took a deep breath, pressing her ear against the pantry door.
If she’d been frightened the night before, this morning was even worse. Having the cover of darkness and Simon’s inebriation had helped somewhat, but in the bright light of day, there was nowhere she could hide.
Beyond the thick oak door, she could barely hear the conversations occurring.
She hoped Robert and Nora would keep her secret.
She’d barely had time to whisper instructions on keeping her presence a secret before rushing into the pantry.
Her hand tightened around the doorknob. If forced to take desperate measures, she would grip the doorknob and hold so tight that there would be no chance of it opening.
How much longer would the earl stand there? And why was he there? Did he make it a habit to visit the kitchens and areas where the household staff worked?
Pressing her forehead to the door, she took another deep breath and let it out slowly. Whatever possessed her to leave her room? Sally warned her while helping her dress that the earl apparently had no intention of leaving.
It was why Penelope crept down the servants’ access stairs, intent on discovering for herself what the earl could be up to. Hearing from Mister Williams himself that Simon had sent for his valet, along with his personal belongings, made it all very real.
The earl was taking full possession of the townhome. There was no immediate plan to counteract the disaster that was surely headed her way.
I could put an end to this madness and go home. Face the consequences of disappearing for three weeks and give in to my parents’ outrageous demands.
Her jaw tightened with the unbidden thought. No. She would not go home. At least not yet. But perhaps it was time to make contact with her parents. If she could maintain her resolve, she would inform them in no uncertain terms that she would never marry the man they’d selected for her.
A soft knock on the pantry door rattled her composure, and she steeled herself for an altercation with one very upset earl.
“He’s gone, miss,” Nora said through the door. “It’s safe to come out now, I think.”
Penelope slowly opened the door, peeking around the heavy oak portal to see that the earl had indeed vacated the kitchen.
“That was a close one,” Robert laughed, straightening his coat.
“Too close,” Nora agreed, her pretty brown eyes wide with apprehension. “Lud, miss, I nearly fainted straightaway when His Lordship came through the door. It was terribly frightening.”
There was the slightest wicker of a sound outside the kitchen door. The three of them instinctively froze, the unspoken worry that it might be Simon Blackthorne returning to continue his investigation hanging in the air. A second later, Sally’s dark head poked into the door’s opening.
“Miss Penelope? Are you all right?” The maid hurried forward to clasp Penelope’s hands within her own. “I thought for sure we’d been found out.”
Penelope huffed out a shaky laugh. “I thought so as well. Thank goodness Lord Camden did not go further in his inquiry.”
“If I may say so, miss, I do not see how we can hide your presence while waiting for Lady Wyldewood to secure your new lodgings. At this rate, you and Lord Camden are certain to come face to face in one of the halls. If he sees you…” The maid shook her head, her worry very apparent. “And you see him…”
“I’ve no choice but to stay out of his way for the time being.
To that end, it might be prudent to move into one of the servant rooms.” The fact that she’d seen more of Lord Simon Blackthorne than was proper remained unspoken.
Penelope’s cheeks flushed bright pink. Reaching up, she tugged the thick braid of her hair off the nape of her neck and over her shoulder.
The curling ends of her hair gave her nervous fingers something to fiddle with.
Sally pursed her lips. “That is not an option, Miss Penelope.”
“If you believe I consider such accommodations beneath me, you must know I carry no illusions of superiority,” Penelope argued quietly.
“As an interloper, I’ve no right to be choosy where I lay my head.
In truth, it will be much easier to stay hidden if I am not occupying a room directly above Lord Camden’s head.
One creak of the floorboards and I’ve no doubt the earl will come searching for the source.
There is no other option for me. I must take every precaution to ensure my survival.
” She gave the three servants a quick smile of encouragement.
“We shall undertake the moving of my belongings the moment the earl has stepped away from the house.”
“I don’t like this one bit,” Sally muttered.
“Neither do I,” Penelope agreed. “But it seems the mouse must scurry out of the cat’s way after all.”
*
It rained all afternoon.
Penelope loved such weather as long as there was an absence of thunder. It was an excuse to curl up in an overstuffed chair with a report from the Exchange in one hand and a cup of tea at her elbow. She would have passed the time blissfully unaware of the world beyond the window.
But today, the rain brought no comfort. It meant only one thing: Simon Alexander Blackthorne had not left the house. So, Penelope remained trapped in her third-floor bedroom, moving on tiptoe to avoid betraying her presence and searching for ways to fill the endless hours.
With a weary sigh, she drew the drapes back just enough to peer onto the street below.
From its corner perch, the townhouse looked over Seamore Place—a narrow, rain-slick lane that intersected with Curzon Street.
The portion that Penelope could see was empty of both pedestrians and the usual afternoon traffic.
And if the day was miserable, Penelope was doubly so.
Every creak of the floorboards below seemed to echo within the walls of her room, a constant reminder that the earl was somewhere beneath her feet—restless, unpredictable, and far too near.
The air itself felt different with Simon in the house, heavier somehow, as though every inch of space carried the husky weight of his voice and the faint scent of his cologne.
She longed for the comfort of the library, for the sanctuary of the kitchen where Mr. Bonney’s good humor and warm gingerbread could chase away unease.
From the first morning when she arrived at the townhome, Penelope had enjoyed watching the elderly man bake a variety of sweet confections.
He always insisted that she sample the various treats, laughing when she pretended to hesitate before surrendering to her sweet tooth.
Oh, how she wished to go to the kitchens now!
She wanted to bask in its warmth and the kindness of someone who seemed to enjoy her company and expected nothing of her.
Sally, cautious as ever, was keeping her distance from Penelope, hoping to avoid suspicion.
The maid wisely anticipated that the new master’s curiosity might extend where it shouldn’t.
Together, the girls had devised a secret knock for the instances when Sally came to her room—three light taps, a pause, then one more—so Penelope would realize it was safe to open the door.
Still, safety felt like an illusion. During the moments she’d spent alone that day, Penelope imagined she could feel Simon everywhere inside the confines of her room—his presence brushing against the edges of her thoughts, the silence charged with something she could not name.
Soon, she told herself, she’d be moved to the servants’ quarters, and this strange tension would fade.
Soon, she would be out of this house, and any fear she had of Simon would be a distant memory.
And she did fear him. His virility…his horrid reputation…his disregard for society’s rules…it all frightened her. But what frightened her the most was her own response to the danger swirling around the man.
A soft tap-tap-tap…pause…tap sounded at the door, startling her enough that she jumped a little. Placing one hand to her chest to calm her racing heart, Penelope released the drapes, allowing them to fall back into place before crossing the room to let Sally in.
The maid slipped inside with practiced stealth, balancing a small tray bearing a pot of tea, two slices of gingerbread, and a plate containing roast beef, sauced potatoes, and stewed carrots.
“Cook insisted on sending gingerbread,” she whispered, setting the tray on the dressing table.
“He says you’ll waste away without something sweet. ”
Penelope smiled faintly. “He’s not wrong.” She reached for a cup to pour some tea, then glanced toward the closed door. “Is Lord Camden still about?”
Sally nodded. “Yes. He’s in the study—or was—when I passed by earlier. Pacing something dreadful. Like a caged lion, he is. Still waiting on his valet and his trunks, Mister Williams says. Seems his belongings have been delayed due to the rain.”
Penelope stirred the tea, watching the pale swirl of cream dissolve into amber. “He’s never been the sort of man who bears inconvenience well. At least, that’s been my impression over the years that I’ve known the family.”
Sally’s eyes danced, though her tone stayed cautious. “No, my lady. He’s the sort who looks like he’s used to being obeyed without question. Even Cook lowers his voice when that one walks down the hall.”
Penelope laughed softly. “Then I must be sure to remain hidden from view. A man like that would not take kindly to finding a stray guest under his roof.”
Sally hesitated, studying her mistress. “You don’t think he suspects, do you?”
“No,” Penelope said too quickly. Then, more quietly, “At least…I hope not.” Her gaze lowered to the cup in her hand, her pulse quickening without reason. “Still, I can’t help feeling as if he knows something. As if he’s aware of my presence somehow.”
Sally gave a nervous laugh. “That’s just the weather and your imagination, Miss Penelope. I’m sure His Lordship has no idea you are here.”
Perhaps. Yet as the wind rattled the panes and footsteps echoed faintly below, Penelope couldn’t shake the sense that Simon Blackthorne was very much aware all was not as it seemed.
“I hope you are right, Sally. It would be a disaster of unimaginable proportions if he discovered me here. The scandal of it…”
“Shhh, do not even think it, miss,” Sally hushed her, her brow furrowing. “Let’s just focus on your supper for the moment. Mister Bonney sent yours up as soon as it was ready so it’s good and hot.”
Penelope sat at the occasional table she sometimes used for meals and dipped her fork into the potatoes. “Mister Bonney is too good to me. You all are. I shall be devastated to leave you all.”
Sally smiled. “Don’t you know I am to go with you? Lady Wyldewood made that quite clear when she hired me on.”
Penelope sat back in surprise. “No, I did not know.” A warm feeling spread within her chest at the thought of her dear friend’s generosity.
How could she ever thank Emily enough for her kindness?
She beamed at Sally, gratitude threatening to burst out of her heart. “I’m so happy to hear this, Sally.”
She’d never had her own maid before. For as long as she could remember, she’d had to share her mother’s. Which was hardly an ideal situation, as the woman reported every transgression Penelope committed back to Lady True.
Knowing she had her own loyal confidante, even if only for a little while, left Penelope feeling lighter than she’d experienced in a long time.
By the time the house once again settled down for the night, Penelope was ready to tear her hair out by the roots from utter boredom. She paced the perimeter of her room, rebellious enough after being isolated to care less if Simon himself heard her footsteps and decided to investigate.
This reaction to confinement was surprising, considering she’d spent the last month reveling in the solitude of it all.
Perhaps it could be attributed to the fact that she had basically done as she pleased upon arriving at the townhome, and now she was reacting to having restrictions imposed on her once more.
Or maybe it had everything to do with the devilishly handsome young earl who had taken up residence inside the home.
Closing her eyes, Penelope could once again see the blasted man in all his glory. His broad chest rippling with muscles, his well-defined abdomen with all its ridges and hollows. And his forearms…Good Lord…those forearms graced with a network of veins that called for her fingertips to trace.
Do not forget that portion of him that you gazed upon with such avid curiosity. That part of him you wanted to touch and caress and examine.
Penelope hurried her pace, wrapping her arms around her midsection and shaking her head as though it would erase the images firing in her brain.
It was wicked to allow such memories to shimmer in her consciousness, and certainly immoral to wish that a second opportunity to explore Simon’s body would present itself.
She pressed the back of her hand against her forehead, wondering why she was so overly warm.
Her skin was flushed, the fine hair prickling on the back of her neck as agitation twisted her stomach.
Coming to a stop in her frantic pacing, Penelope clenched her fists, trembling with the restless urge to do something.
If I do not get out of this room, I believe I shall go mad. But it’s madness to place myself in the pathway of certain danger.
Before she reconsidered her actions, Penelope marched to the bedroom door and pulled it open. Then, taking a deep, steadying breath, she stepped out into the corridor.