Chapter 2 #2
He poured himself a small glass of brandy, surprised at how steady his hand was, and returned to seat himself in the armchair across from Oliver’s.
He must know. He must know what Oliver’s thoughts were on wedding a woman who might die at any moment.
“Has the physician said Pen—Penelope is strong enough to marry?”
Oliver shrugged. “Her father has assured me she has recovered well from the pneumonia that complicated her initial illness. She still has some other small effects, but is otherwise fit. Or so he says.”
Hugo was unsure Penny’s obvious pain when walking and standing meant she was “otherwise fit,” but he let it pass for now. “And what of her heart?”
Oliver frowned at him. “It is an arranged marriage, Hugo. Penelope and I both know it is no love match.”
Hugo briefly closed his eyes and prayed for patience. “No, you blockhead. I meant her heart.”
“Oh! That. The physician said there is no way to predict that with any accuracy. She could be fine for decades to come, or not.”
Hugo could see it had not occurred to Oliver to even consider Penny’s health after her near-fatal illness, and resentment rose in his throat. He would take better care of her, if Penny were his.
He cast his eyes down to his brandy to conceal his expression. “I see.”
Oliver set his glass down with a thump. “I cannot wait any longer, Hugo. We must marry before the loan her grandfather made us comes due when she turns twenty-five next year, or the consequences for our family will be dire.”
Hugo knew that. More than anyone else in the family alive today, he knew how crucial it was for Penny to marry Oliver.
The family would be utterly ruined if Oliver or Penny called a halt to the proceedings.
The loan her grandfather had made to their father would come due immediately, with interest, and Hugo knew the estate could not stretch to repay it.
Oliver had only just managed to make the last of their properties profitable again.
“I’m sure it will be fine,” Hugo said, and took a deep draught of the brandy in his hand. It was bitter in his mouth.
There was nothing more he—or anyone—could do. Oliver would do his best, and Hugo could only return to his duty and wait for the inevitable letter that would tell him Penny was gone.
He must leave as soon as may be. Tomorrow, before the snowstorm began. He could not watch the farce unfold in front of him. He set his glass down and sorted through excuses in his mind that he could make to Oliver.
But before Hugo could speak, a footman tapped on the door to announce it was time to dress for dinner. They immediately rose to their feet. One was never late for dinner when Grandmama presided over it.
Hugo felt a faint, cowardly relief that the conversation must to wait for tomorrow. He would pack tonight, and be prepared to leave as soon as he informed his brother.
Tomorrow, he could say his piece and make his escape without being drawn into further excuses or arguments.
By this time tomorrow, he would be well on his way back to London, where he would be able to put Penny Montgomery and her troublesome heart out of his mind as he prepared for his next voyage.
Penny felt quite refreshed after her nap and a hot bath, her joints nearly back to the usual level of mild aching she had learned to accept. With another good night’s sleep and being cautious on the morrow, she should be on the mend.
And of course there was a way out of this marriage trap. She would speak to her mother about her qualms and the matter would be resolved in a trice.
Once Sally finished dressing her for dinner, Penny crossed to the opposite door of the dressing room and opened it to see her mother’s lady’s maid was nearly done with her hair. Mama beamed at her from the mirror.
“Come in, my dear, come in! We are nearly done here.”
Penny seated herself on the small sofa in front of the banked fireplace, glowing with red coals that sent warmth throughout the room.
She had always suspected the dowager’s choice of rooms for the Montgomerys was intended as a mild insult since they were among the smaller ones in the house, but Penny did not mind.
They had more of a family feel to them, almost like they were at home in Birmingham or London.
She waited until the lady’s maid had left the room and cleared her throat. Her mother crossed to sit next to Penny on the sofa, plumes on her turban bobbing as she settled onto the seat.
“Well? What is it?”
Penny took a deep breath. “Mama, I need to ask you a question.”
Unexpectedly, her mother’s face softened into a knowing smile. “Oh, my dear, I should have known. Of course, you’re nervous about what to expect on your wedding night. We ought to have had this talk long ago.”
“What? No!” Penny couldn’t hold back her shudder. “That’s not what I wished to speak about.” She took a deep breath. “What would you say… what would you say if… if I said I do not want to marry Kendal?”
To Penny’s horror, her mother’s face immediately turned grey and she sank back against the cushions of the sofa. One hand clutched out towards Penny. “My vinaigrette. I need my vinaigrette. Quickly.”
Penny leapt up and rummaged through her mother’s crowded dressing table. She found the vinaigrette and pressed it into Mama’s hand. She watched warily as her mother inhaled once, and then again before she sat upright with a scowl.
“Why would you say such a thing, Penelope? Whatever possessed you to give me such a fright? Is this some sort of joke?”
“No,” Penny said sturdily, though her stomach was going in loops. “I do not wish to marry Kendal.”
Her mother laughed a harsh laugh, and Penny flinched back. “You do not wish to marry him? Not marry the man to whom you’ve been promised for at least ten years?”
“I did not make that promise,” Penny pointed out. “You and Papa did, at Grandfather’s instigation.”
“On your behalf! For your benefit! Penelope, my dear, you shall be a duchess.”
“I don’t want to be a duchess.” Penny felt a small twinge at the thought of her beautiful trousseau. “I don’t love Kendal.”
“What does love have to do with anything? Do you think I loved your father on our wedding day? Of course not. But I married him, and we made a life together. That is what is important. Love will grow.”
The image of Pippa’s yearning face as she watched Kendal hardened Penny’s heart against her mother’s words. It would be a farce to marry a man she did not love, but a tragedy if she married the man her sister loved.
“Why not Pippa? We are sisters, after all. If Pippa and Kendal married, that would still fulfill the terms of Grandfather’s loan.”
“Certainly not! Philippa is not suited to be a duchess. She’s not even suited for marriage.”
“She had many admirers during our season,” Penny pointed out. “I know at least three of them approached Papa to ask for her hand.”
“And he turned them all down. Rightly so. Philippa is not meant for marriage. Her place is at my side.”
It came upon Penny in a flash.
Pippa would never be allowed to marry. She would be tied to their mother for the rest of her life, always at her beck and call. Diminishing first into an old maid, and then into a poor relation, expected to give up her own hopes for a husband and family to suit their mother.
And the worst part was, Penny feared Pippa would accept it as nothing more than what she deserved. Pippa had changed during Penny’s recovery, and Penny could not break through to her twin to find out why.
She must not allow Pippa to be sacrificed for her comfort. Or their mother’s.
Pasting a smile on her face, Penny rose from the sofa. “Of course. I understand. It was only bridal nerves.”
“Are you certain? We still ought to have that talk about your wedding night.”
A gong sounded in the hallway, and Penny moved to the door. “There’s the dinner bell. We must go down.”
Frowning, Mama rose from the sofa and crossed to the door as Penny opened it. “Very well. But we will have our talk after dinner.”
“Of course,” Penny said, knowing she would do everything in her power to avoid it.