Chapter Twenty-One
Penelope
“I cannot believe my brother is so blasted stubborn that he would not agree to a honeymoon.”
Penelope sighed, watching her sister-in-law scowl as she sipped a glass of champagne. “He said it was completely unnecessary.”
Emily shook her head, blue eyes fierce with indignation on Penelope’s behalf. “He’s a stubborn beast.” Her gaze flickered around the ballroom. “And then he has the gall to send you unaccompanied into this den of rabid lions. It isn’t right.”
A smile lifted the corners of Penelope’s mouth. “Aren’t you one of the lions?”
Emily laughed softly. “I’m far more fierce than any of them, that’s true.
But since you are my dearest friend and now my very own sister-in-law, you are safe from my claws.
” Glancing at Penelope, she posed a gentle question.
“It’s been almost a month since the wedding took place. Are things going well?”
Penelope ducked her head, embarrassed that the state of her marriage was cause for concern.
Of course, Emily worried for her, and it was well earned.
Since that first morning at Camden House when Simon punished her in his study, she saw her husband for an hour in the afternoons and when he came to their bedroom late in the night.
He claimed what was his, made her cry out his name while he plunged inside her body and left her shamelessly craving more of the pleasure he gave her.
He’d not punished her again, nor had he restrained her during the nights they’d spent together.
No, he simply appeared in the darkest hours, had intercourse with her, brushed her brow with the barest of kisses, and left her alone in their bed.
Where he went after, where he slept, and what occupied his time remained a mystery to Penelope, and she refused to ask for such information from the household staff or from Simon himself.
That she had capitulated so quickly to his idea of what their marriage should be was a source of great heartache for Penelope.
She wanted to rebel and deny what he made her feel, wanted to demand that he treat her as a man should treat his wife, but her brave resolve always crumpled the moment he touched her.
“Things are going as well as can be expected,” she finally said, the forced gaiety in her tone hiding her sadness. “Everyone knows our marriage was not a love match.”
Emily frowned. “I hoped the two of you would at least be spending time together. Where is he tonight?”
Penelope sipped her champagne as though unbothered by her friend’s pointed question.
“I don’t know,” she answered simply. “After insisting we remain in London, he’s only accompanied me once.
And that was our brief appearance as husband and wife at the Tammerlin ball.
” Then, because a strange need fluttered inside her to defend him, she said, “He does spend afternoons with me. For one hour, we sit quietly in the library or the parlor, and he asks whether there are any household issues I need assistance with. Sometimes he asks what books I am reading and which social events I plan to attend. He…” she faltered for a moment, then continued, “he looks at me in the strangest of ways during those moments, but he keeps his thoughts private.”
“I don’t understand him,” Emily said with an exasperated sigh. “Wylder tells me that Simon visits White’s or Brooks’s nearly every night. If it is any source of comfort, he apparently has not been haunting the pleasure houses the Rakehells usually frequented. At least, that is what Wylder says.”
“I am glad of that,” Penelope murmured. “I hope that it is true.”
Penelope’s mother’s imminent arrival silenced whatever else Emily might have said regarding her brother’s actions. Both girls were silent as Lady True reached for Penelope’s hand, pulling her in so that she could brush a fleeting kiss on her daughter’s pale cheeks.
“There you are, my dear. It’s so good to see you here tonight.
I feared you might not come. It’s rumored that your husband has not bothered to escort you to the few parties you have attended since your wedding.
I do hope all is well between you,” Lady True said before nodding politely at Emily. “Good evening, Countess Wyldewood.”
“Hello, Mother.” Penelope’s smile was faint as Emily gave the elderly woman a cursory nod. Ignoring the snide nature of her mother’s words with an inward sigh, she politely asked. “Has Father accompanied you this evening?”
Lady True waved a hand in dismissal. “He is about somewhere.” Her features took on a calculating expression that Penelope knew from experience did not bode well.
“My dear, I wonder if you and I might have a moment of privacy? There is something of great importance I must discuss with you. As this is the first time seeing you since the ceremony, I hope you will oblige me.”
“Now?” Penelope asked as Emily sidled closer as if offering protection.
“Yes, if it is not too much to ask that a mother be given an opportunity to speak with her own daughter,” Lady True said with a long-suffering sigh.
“It’s been made quite obvious that I am not welcome at Camden House.
It’s an unfortunate development that I am now forced to conduct personal matters in the most public of spaces. ”
Penelope bit her bottom lip. Her mother posed no threat to her now that she was Simon’s wife. The distance Simon had previously insisted upon between herself and her parents could surely be eased.
“You are welcome to come to tea one afternoon at Camden House, Mother,” Penelope offered grudgingly as Emily made a strangled sound of protest.
Lady True appeared surprised by the invitation, but still she pressed. “That’s very thoughtful of you, dear. However, if I may steal you away for a moment or two…”
Emily quickly scanned the ballroom and then said to Penelope, “I think I shall refresh our champagne, Pen. When I return, perhaps we could entice Lord Wyldewood to escort us both to the terrace for a breath of fresh air.”
Penelope nodded at her friend, grateful for her unspoken support.
Without another word to her mother, she retreated to one of the ballroom’s many alcoves as Lady True trailed behind her.
The location was secluded enough for a conversation, and yet, Penelope would remain visible to the many guests attending the Heyward soiree.
“What is it you wish to speak with me about, Mother?”
There was a slight pause, then Lady True blurted out, “There is a pathway to having your marriage annulled, dear.”
“Annulled?” Penelope stared at the older woman, utterly confused. “What on earth are you talking about?”
Lady True went on, emboldened no doubt by Penelope’s ambiguous response to such an outrageous statement.
“Yes, annulled, my darling. I know it seems impossible, but there is hope in your situation. It is a simple matter of asserting that you did not consent to the marriage, that you were forced into it against your will, and the entire ordeal may very well be voided.”
It would be a lie that Penelope did not, for the briefest moment, consider the idea of freedom from marriage to Simon.
She would be completely ruined, of course, but she would have her inheritance to sustain her.
She could turn her back on society and do as she pleased, where she pleased.
There would be no risk of heartbreak, as there was now with her somewhat absent husband.
After all, he was already proving that her existence was merely an inconvenient afterthought.
But then, cold, inescapable reality set in. Any hope of life on her own terms faded away. Simon had made it abundantly clear that she was his property now. Whether he wished to be married or not, whether she was unhappy or not, the man would not so easily release her from their vows.
“That is an impossibility, Mother, and you know this. Lord Camden would never entertain—”
“But it is possible!” Lady True hurriedly interrupted, her fingers gripping Penelope’s arm.
“And, my dear, we are fortunate that Lord Grant is willing to assist with the matter. He still wishes to marry you, even though Camden has had you in his bed. There is no other man I know of who is willing to overlook your mistakes and still desire you for a wife. Once the annulment is granted, it will be a simple matter to then honor the contract made with Lord Grant before Camden ruined everything.” Her mother leaned forward, searching Penelope’s face for any sign of cooperation.
“Lord Grant is here tonight…won’t you at least speak with him and see what the man has to say on the matter? He can help us, dear.”
Penelope pulled away from her mother’s grip.
“If this is what you wished to discuss, then my husband has been wise in limiting your contact with me.” Anger seeped through her veins as she recognized her mother’s deceitful plans.
It was impossible not to guess the reasons behind the sordid proposal that Penelope seek an annulment.
This was little more than a scheme borne of her parents’ desire to control her inheritance.
It would also serve to punish Simon Blackthorne and his terrible arrogance for blocking their access to it when he married her.
A laugh bubbled up in Penelope’s throat as she realized she had never even inquired as to the size of the unexpected windfall.
It must be substantial for all the fuss her parents were willing to go to.
“You are determined to ignore the fact that I did consent to this marriage. I consented and must live with my choice. As for Lord Grant…I do not know how to make my opinion any clearer. I have never wished to marry him. I never will want to marry him, and I shall never consider marriage to him, no matter what occurs.”