Chapter Twenty-One #2
“I see you are still the same selfish, ignorant child,” her mother hissed, reaching out to pinch Penelope’s elbow in a cruel grip.
“After everything your father and I have done for you…the sacrifices that we made to ensure you a spot in society. Clothing you. Feeding you. Educating you. Enduring and excusing your awkwardness. All to snare a suitable husband for you. We deserve to reap the benefits of the years spent grooming you, and what did you do? You ran away, compromised yourself, and jeopardized everything we worked so hard to achieve. I had hoped Camden would have broken you by now, seeing that he is known for such sordid matters. I have it on good authority that the man spends his evenings at clubs, gaming hells, and various pleasure houses. He spends your inheritance rather than his own funds during these pursuits and enjoys the company of loose women while sending you out into society alone. He is truly a rakehell of the worst kind, Penelope. He’s using you for his own nefarious, wicked purposes, and you are too blind and too naive to comprehend your fate. ”
Penelope drew herself up straighter. The accusations her mother flung were like arrows to her heart, but she would not let the woman know just how deeply they wounded her.
Her eyes stung with unshed tears, but when she spoke, it was with conviction and a strength she’d never felt before.
Fury had her hands trembling, but she’d never experienced the level of power running through her as she faced her mother’s cruelty with her backbone rigid and stiff.
“Say one more word against my husband, and I shall never speak with you or my father again. I’m neither blind nor naive, Mother. I know exactly the sort of man he is, and my choice is to remain his wife for as long as I am on this earth.”
“You foolish, willful—” Lady True snapped, but Penelope again wrenched her arm away from her mother’s grasp.
“Be quiet,” Penelope said in a firm voice, her eyes narrowed. “And heed my words, for I shall only say this once. I am a countess now, Mother. A countess with a very powerful husband. You will speak to me in a respectful manner or not speak at all.”
She turned to leave the woman standing there, but then swung back around, her chin raised.
She was no longer the dutiful daughter, suffering abuse and remaining silent for the sake of others.
Something was coming alive inside her. Something fierce and strong and unwilling to be a pawn any longer.
Leaning toward the woman who’d given her birth, Penelope suddenly realized her mother had never truly loved her as a child should be loved.
Fighting back tears, she whispered, “The only ones who used me were you and Father, and I won’t allow it ever again. ”
Lady True gasped in outraged disbelief as Penelope stalked away.
Pushing through the crowd, blinded by the hot tears she refused to shed, she almost made it to the terrace doors when an arm snaked out and wrapped itself around her waist. She squeaked in alarm and immediately tried shoving at the man who dared take such liberties.
For a heart-stopping moment, she feared Lord Gregory Grant had lost control of his senses and was foolhardy enough to accost her.
But it was her own husband who had captured her.
“Good evening, mouse,” Simon drawled, tugging her against his leanly muscled body.
His gaze flickered back to the alcove where Lady True still stood, her features tight with fury.
Recognizing that Simon had her fixed in his sights, she clamped her mouth shut and quickly escaped in the opposite direction.
“Are you all right? You’re trembling.” Taking a closer look at Penelope, his mouth tightened. “Why are you crying? Who has upset you?”
Although shocked to see her husband at the ball, Penelope responded in a shaky, stubborn voice, “I’m not crying.”
Simon frowned, reaching up to wipe the tears away from Penelope’s cheeks. Anger rumbled in his chest, escaping in his words. “You’re not a very accomplished liar, wife. Should I assume it was your mother? She’s practically running away from you.”
Penelope turned her head from his searching gaze, watching as her mother hurried away.
From across the ballroom, she saw Emily, her expression one of surprised hope at seeing Simon there.
With a sigh, Penelope gave her sister-in-law a little wave, indicating she did not require immediate rescue.
She kept her gaze averted from Simon as she asked, “What are you doing here, Simon?”
He did not respond immediately; instead, he led her out through the open doors and onto the terrace.
Once out in the cool, night air, he took her hand and walked her toward one of the many benches that overlooked the gardens below.
Sitting down beside her, Simon cupped her chin and stared into her eyes.
“I assumed I would be the only one responsible for your tears once we exchanged our vows,” he said in a grim manner. “If your parents cannot accept the fact that you are mine now, I shall address the situation in the manner I see fit.”
“That will not be necessary.” Penelope could not look away from his brilliant-blue eyes, and she cursed her own reaction to him.
Her skin tingled where he touched her, her body remembering that the night before, he had used his mouth, his fingers, and his sex in his seduction.
He’d coaxed her to completion so many times that she had passed out from utter exhaustion.
And woke this morning to the usual cold, empty bed with your thighs aching and your breasts sore from his teeth. Your mouth tender from his bruising kisses.
“Why is that?”
“Because I have handled the matter myself,” Penelope said, unblinkingly.
Simon’s gaze hardened as he gripped her chin even tighter. “Poor little mouse. For some reason, you believe you must face this world alone when nothing could be further from the truth.”
“Have you not left me to my own devices this past month?” she shot back without thinking of the consequences of her words.
“Ahhh. There are those claws,” Simon murmured. “I certainly do enjoy seeing them from time to time. Now, tell me how your mother has upset you so that I may take care of the situation.”
Penelope could not stem the surge of anger that rushed through her.
She scowled up at her arrogant husband, jerking her chin from his grasp and batting his hand away.
“You are insufferable. Forgive me for not believing you have a care for my well-being. You do not care what I do when you are not around to taunt me.”
“What have you been forced to do, mouse?” Simon leaned back against the bench, smiling benignly at her, although his gaze remained sharply probing. He made a show of removing his gloves, tucking them into an inner pocket of his formal evening coat.
“Not that it matters to you, but if you really must know, here is a partial list. Defended myself against my own mother. Pretended that the whispers and rumors swirling around our marriage do not bother me…particularly difficult when the cattiest remarks and insults come from other women intoxicated by your rakish reputation,” Penelope spat, her cheeks heating with irritation.
“And I’ve fended off more unwanted advances from more gentlemen than at any time since my coming out into society.
Apparently, my status as a married woman, even if to a husband who does not want a wife, makes me a suitable candidate to commit adultery. ”
The temperature around them seemed to drop by several degrees as Simon abruptly snaked a hand to the back of Penelope’s neck.
He held her still, his blue eyes suddenly so cold and so icy that Penelope shivered in his grasp.
Had she gone too far with her criticisms during that unexpected burst of bravery?
“Their names, little mouse. Give me their names, and they shall be dead come morning.”