Chapter 3
Penny was still piqued at Hugo’s high-handedness in forcing her to rest—no matter how much she had needed it—so she avoided him as she circulated through the drawing room, conversing and laughing with his relatives.
It was a Christmastide party as it had always been: full of members of the Duke of Kendal’s family, both near and distant, with the Montgomerys there on sufferance as future members.
Some were kind, some were standoffish, but they all seemed resigned to Penny becoming the next duchess.
She took a moment to converse with Kendal’s cousin Beatrice, a theater-mad girl of nearly twenty who was already planning the house party’s annual amateur theatricals.
“I have a wonderful idea for this year’s play,” Beatrice said with a sly grin. “You and Cousin Kendal will be most pleased.”
“Ah?” Penny said. The prickling at the back of her neck told her Hugo was looking her way. “I look forward to hearing all about it.”
The double doors to the drawing room opened and Teasdale stepped through, tall and dignified. The tight curls of his closely-cropped hair were turning gray, contrasting with his dark skin. He bowed deeply to the dowager duchess.
“Madam is served.”
The dowager nodded regally and gestured for one of the younger male cousins to push her Bath chair into the dining room, with the rest of the company falling in line behind them. Penny accepted Oliver’s arm and they promenaded to dinner in silence, followed by the chattering crowd.
Oliver seated her on his right side, then took his own seat at the head of the table, with the dowager duchess at the opposite end. She would be hostess for a few more days, and then Penny would take her place after the wedding.
Suppressing a shudder, Penny turned to the dinner partner on her right and discovered it was Hugo. She smiled a determined smile as the guests served themselves from the dishes already laid out on the table.
“What may I get you, Miss Montgomery?” Hugo asked.
She had rarely heard him be so formal with her, and she pulled back a little. “The roast capon, if you please, and some vegetables.” She pointed to a few more dishes and accepted the plate from him, setting it in front of herself as he assembled his own meal.
“They do this quite differently in Russia,” Hugo said. “The servants bring platters of each dish around the table and serve the guests individually.”
Penny lay down her fork to look at him quizzically. “Are we conversing now, Captain Dalston, or are we to continue to pretend to be mere acquaintances?”
If anyone could grin with only his eyes, it was Hugo, and he shook his head ruefully.
“I apologize, Penny. I have… had things on my mind.”
She nodded her forgiveness, and picked her fork up to take a few bites. “When do you report back to the Admiralty?"
"In early January. We hope to set sail by the 15th, if the weather holds."
"And when will you return to England?”
Hugo hesitated, and Penny realized how gauche her question had sounded. As though she expected him to dance attendance on her.
"I may be stationed in the Bermudas for as long as three years."
“The Bermudas?” She had so many questions—had he been there before, to which of the other islands of the Caribbean had he traveled—but then his words registered with her. She clutched at her fork as it tried to wobble in her hand. “Three years? So long?"
"Yes."
By the time he returned, she would be a settled married lady. Perhaps a mother.
The thought turned her stomach, and she lay her fork down to reach for her wine glass instead. "Kendal will miss you very much."
"Will he?"
"Of course. He is your brother, after all."
For a moment, he looked as though he wanted to say something else, but the aunt on his other side drew his attention and he courteously turned to speak with her after a nod to Penny.
Penny looked up to see Pippa watching her from her seat across and towards the middle of the table, her expression difficult to read in the candlelight. Penny nodded, and Pippa looked past her.
To Kendal.
Penny was only able to exchange a few more commonplaces with Hugo before the conversation around the table became general, with relatives who had not seen each other since the previous Christmas calling to each other across and down the table.
Penny allowed it to wash around her as she concentrated on her dinner, conscious of Hugo at her side.
The tiny wooden swallow he had given her while she was ill was upstairs, and she suddenly felt foolish for having brought it at all.
When the dowager at last gave the signal that dinner was over, Kendal rose as well, to Penny’s surprise. It seemed he had decided to have the men join the women in the drawing room immediately rather than have a separate drinking party of their own.
Hugo drew her chair out and extended his arm for her to steady herself. She rose to her feet, uncertain how she was feeling.
The pressure of the family all around was beginning to work on her.
Perhaps she ought to stay. Perhaps she ought not to break the engagement.
After all, she was nearly five-and-twenty and would be labeled a jilt by all of Society for throwing over a duke.
Even with her father’s fortune, it might not be so easy to find another match.
Kendal moved to her side and she accepted his arm, turning away from Hugo.
They led the procession to the Gold Drawing Room, where the servants had placed a pianoforte earlier that day.
She was resigned to a jolly evening of family singing, as the Dalstons were wont to do at Christmastime.
Fortunately, she would not be asked to play, not after the fiasco when she had been fifteen and horrified the whole crowd with her lack of skill.
After that, she had left the musical performances to Pippa, who was far more talented than she.
Kendal seated her near the fire and stood behind her at the mantel, scanning the crowd as they filtered in. She looked around for Pippa, but Beatrice slid into the open seat before her sister even arrived in the room.
“There you are, Cousin Kendal. I wished to speak to you now that the house party has properly begun.”
“Yes, of course,” Kendal said, his tone resigned.
“For what day shall I schedule the theatricals? We will need to begin rehearsals at once.”
“Of course. Er… will you have enough players?”
Beatrice grinned a sly grin to herself. “We should have more than enough for this one.”
Pippa finally entered on the arm of Kendal’s cousin Yardley, her expression a little grim. When she saw the seat next to Penny was already occupied, she ignored Penny’s frantic eye-rolling to call her over and instead went to stand in a corner.
Hugo remained near the door, a glass of brandy already in his hand, and Penny frowned. Hugo was usually quite abstemious, but he had had more than one glass of wine at dinner, and here he was with yet another drink.
Most peculiar.
Cousin Beatrice moved away after a few more words and Penny gave her a distracted smile of farewell.
Kendal began to stroll through the room as well, conversing with various relatives, leaving Penny behind.
Even her mother was ensconced with a group of Kendal’s female relatives while Penny sat alone.
There seemed to be a strange tension in the room that evening. Or perhaps it was only herself who was feeling oppressed.
She jumped when the dowager’s voice cut through the buzz of conversation in the room. “Would you be so kind as to play for us, Miss Philippa?”
From her corner, Pippa looked frozen in horror for a moment before saying, “Of course, your grace.”
As Pippa moved towards the pianoforte, Penny rose to her feet as well. She might not have Pippa’s musical talent, but perhaps she could help her choose the music.
She had to dodge several groups of relatives to reach Pippa, only to find her sister was already engrossed in a low-voiced conversation with Kendal as they sorted through the sheets of music stacked on top of the instrument.
More than a little vexed with both of them, Penny moved forward, her steps silent on the thick Aubusson carpet.
As she approached them, with shocking clarity she heard Kendal say, “It was you I kissed, wasn’t it?”
Penny drew back, horrified. Pippa murmured something to Kendal in return, but Penny could not hear it through the blood pounding in her ears. She turned away as aimlessly as she could, pretending her destination had been anywhere else in the room even as her head spun madly.
Of course. Of course!
It all made sense now.
There had been a visit during her recovery when she had been allowed to dress and be carried downstairs to sit decorously with her betrothed, who had asked after her health and discussed other commonplaces with her until Mama had made a vague excuse and exited the room, leaving the door only half-open.
Puzzled, Penny had turned to find Kendal leaning close to her, and instinctively she’d ducked away.
“What is it?” she’d asked.
For a moment, anger had flashed in his eyes, but he shook his head and smiled at her.
“Nothing, my dear,” he’d said. “Nothing at all. Are you warm enough?”
Penny had nodded, confused but willing to allow the moment to pass since his anger seemed to pass just as quickly. He had never attempted to kiss more than her hand after that, for which she was grateful.
But now it was all clear.
He had kissed Pippa.
How could they? How could she? Her own sister?
She traveled on a circuit through the room, nodding and smiling at random but not allowing herself to be drawn into conversation. She found herself back at the sofa, where she sat down with a thump as Pippa began to play.
She could not possibly marry Kendal now.