Chapter Twenty-Five
Penelope
The number of people attending the Gipson ball was intimidating.
Penelope swallowed hard, fighting back the rising tremors of panic squeezing her heart.
No matter how many times she attended events like these, she always suffered an acute attack of shyness.
Usually, Emily managed to calm her with witty observations and gentle humor.
How she wished her dear friend were here now as she gripped Simon’s arm a bit harder than she intended.
He made their introductions to the hosts as Penelope worried her blasted shyness might leave her tongue-tied.
“We are so pleased you and Lady Camden could attend our little soiree,” Lady Gipson trilled, snapping open an ornate fan. The elderly lady applied it vigorously while beaming at Penelope and Simon.
“Yes, so good of you both to come,” Lord Gipson echoed his wife. The man glanced about the packed ballroom, his observations absentminded as he stated, “There appears to be far more guests in attendance than the number you initially provided, my dear.”
Lady Gipson laughed. “I suppose it did expand a bit beyond the initial estimate.” She winked at Penelope, her expression one of kindness.
It contradicted the stern, serious nature the elderly woman was known for.
“Word spread rather quickly that the two of you were expected to attend, you see. They all came to see you, my dear.”
Penelope blinked in surprise. “That is so very kind of you, Lady Gipson,” she said, clearing her throat.
Dismayed by the timidness in her voice, she continued in a more confident tone, “However, I believe your reputation as a gracious hostess is most certainly the reason for such an overwhelming turnout.” Realizing that the viscount and viscountess appeared genuinely pleased by her presence made her relax.
Of course, she’d made the older couple’s acquaintance before, but this was different.
Now, she was Simon’s wife. His countess.
“Lady Camden and I are honored to have been invited to such a grand event.” The pride in Simon’s bright-blue gaze as he smiled down at Penelope made her heart flip upside down. A warmth blossomed in her belly and spread throughout her body until she was surely glowing.
“If you will excuse us, I hear the beginning strains of a waltz, and I promised Lady Camden that I would not fail in dancing each and every one with her tonight.” Simon bowed at the waist to their hosts.
As Lord and Lady Gipson smiled with approval, he tucked Penelope’s hand in the crook of his elbow and led her toward the gleaming, parquet floor.
“Thank you, Simon.” Penelope let out a relieved sigh as Simon snagged an arm around her waist and began to swirl her across the ballroom floor.
“I feared I would begin babbling like an absolute fool at any moment. Lady Gipson has always been one of the more formidable paragons of society. She’s quite terrifying, actually. ”
“You should not doubt your own power, mouse,” he murmured. “Your gentle nature and quiet grace are attributes that are certainly cause for envy among our peers.”
Penelope tilted her head. How differently he was treating her after the night they had shared.
It was both satisfying and confusing. She couldn’t help but bask in the splendor of it all.
Was it possible that her reluctant surrender to his dark desires had sparked this change?
She could think of no other reason for it.
He had made love to her all afternoon with an intensity bordering on obsession.
He lavished praise upon her for following his instructions, kissed away her hesitations, and thrust past her fragile inhibitions, igniting all her senses until she was reeling with pleasure.
The knowledge that she pleased him—despite her awkward innocence—was intoxicating.
She glowed with joy whenever he offered a word of encouragement.
And when he flashed that sinful grin, her heart pounded like a racehorse sprinting toward the finish line.
“Only two months ago, I was the brunt of their ridicule,” she reminded him with a self-deprecating smile.
“Wagers were placed as to which gentleman would be inadvertently caught in the trap my parents set. It became a game of sorts for men to avoid being snared. And I was simply one of the players on the board.”
“I’m aware of your parents’ ill-conceived activities.” Simon twirled her around as other men and women joined in the waltz. “And it’s a fact that those same gentlemen would now covet the opportunity to be snagged in matrimony with you as the bride.”
“I suspect that has more to do with the inheritance than it does with me.” Penelope adopted a deliberately nonchalant demeanor as she continued, “I don’t understand what has changed between us, if you want the truth, Simon.
” Avoiding his gaze, she pretended to focus on the intricate steps of the waltz.
“You were so angry before…about marrying me, I mean. And now…well, now you are almost being kind.”
“I am far from benevolent, Penelope. And I’m still adjusting to our marriage.
However, it is true that your submission has pleased me, and I believe in rewarding good behavior just as much as I enjoy punishing the bad.
” He caught her chin, lifting it with a forefinger to look down at her.
A spark of confusion flickered in his sapphire-blue eyes as he frowned.
“While I dislike the fact that I was forced into this, I cannot deny the protectiveness I feel toward you. I want to shield you from anyone who might hurt you because that honor is now reserved strictly for me and no one else.” His lips curled into a ghost of a smile.
“It’s quite inconvenient that you occupy my every thought. ”
Penelope’s cheeks flushed at his admission, but she was saved from a reply as the waltz ended.
Simon led her to a small alcove next to the ballroom floor, his gaze scanning the crowd.
He was significantly taller than she was, allowing him to see most of the room in one sweeping glance.
Whatever he was searching for seemed to satisfy him, as he pressed a kiss to Penelope’s gloved hand.
“I will return in a moment, mouse. Stay here.” Stepping away from her, he abruptly paused and asked, “Would you prefer punch or lemonade?”
“Champagne,” Penelope said. The alcoholic beverage would help calm her slightly jangled nerves.
Simon’s glare was mildly exasperated. “Lemonade it is.”
Penelope gritted her teeth but nodded in agreement. As he strolled away towards the refreshments, she couldn’t help noticing how numerous women turned their heads to watch her husband. They then immediately began whispering behind their fans while casting curious glances at her.
She couldn’t blame them for viewing him in such a salacious manner.
Simon Blackthorne was exceedingly handsome, with his raven-black hair and piercing blue eyes.
He was always so impeccably attired. The dark, formal clothes fit his lean, muscled form perfectly, his cravat crisp as fresh snow while his black evening coat stretched taut across his broad shoulders.
He was male perfection, and women were naturally drawn to masculine beauty.
From the very first moment she laid eyes on Simon, Penelope had found him almost too beautiful to endure.
Staring at his perfectly chiseled face was like looking at an angel.
The fact that he was also a powerful and wealthy earl only elevated his status among men and women alike.
Letting out a sigh, Penelope watched the various guests as they mingled and engaged in conversations, their stares inquisitive when they bent her way.
Penelope was unbothered by others keeping their distance despite their obvious curiosity.
Her experience with society consisted of watching others from the sidelines, and she had preferred it that way.
Emily Blackthorne’s interference and friendship saved her many times from being a solitary wallflower.
How surreal it was to now be married to her best friend’s brother and enfolded into their family.
“You appear to be in dire need of either refreshments or a breath of fresh air. I’m happy to provide one or both, if you are so inclined to accept the offer.”
Penelope turned to see Lord Gregory Grant approaching, holding a flute of bubbly liquid in each hand. He extended one of the nearly overflowing glasses toward her with a small grin. She hesitated for a moment before accepting it, conveying her thanks with a silent nod of her head.
“I’ve certainly missed seeing you at various events over the past few weeks.” Gregory’s light-brown gaze scanned Penelope’s features. “Congratulations on your recent wedding.”
Though his tone remained superficially polite, Penelope could easily discern the subtle undercurrent of frustration lacing his words.
She nodded in response, her resolve to maintain civility strengthening with each passing moment.
No longer was she the vulnerable prey of men like him; she was a countess now, her status forged by marriage to one of London’s most influential figures.
“Thank you,” she murmured, as she scanned the bustling ballroom, wishing fervently for Simon’s prompt return.
It felt almost absurd to experience unease amid such opulence, surrounded by elegantly clad guests swirling with laughter and conversation, yet an unsettling sensation lingered just below the surface.
She eased away from the seclusion of the alcove, now intent on being more visible.
“I suppose Camden is attending with you this evening?” Gregory asked, his charming facade slipping into a more predatory guise. “It is rumored he finally decided to provide an escort for his new bride. Rather sporting of him, I think.”
“He is here,” Penelope replied, her fingers tightening around the stem of her crystal flute.