Chapter 7 #2
He shook his head. “I would not be happy without the sea. Even if I left the Navy, I would sail merchant ships.”
Penny shook her head thoughtfully, toast still in her hand. “I would like to travel, but I’ve never been further than London. Or Cumberland, I suppose. Though even that is not all that far from Birmingham.”
“Perhaps Oliver would take you,” Hugo said, and Penny laughed.
“Do you not know your own brother? He would never leave England even if he could. He’s a settled country squire at this point, for all he’s a duke.”
“Is that why you ran away?” he dared to ask, and her face instantly shuttered.
“That is not your business, Lord Hugo. My reasons are my own.”
Hugo nodded. Clearly she would need additional coaxing to tell him the truth.
Once she did, he would find a way to persuade her back to Gaitskill Castle to marry Oliver.
Not only would that preserve the family’s access to the Montgomery money, it would be best for Penny herself to have that protection and support in her continuing illness.
And it was best for his own sanity for him to know she was settled before he left her behind for good.
Setting his plate aside at the lurch in his stomach at the thought, he bent to feel the towels on the hearth. “I think these are warm enough.”
Penny eyed him warily. “What are you planning to do?”
“Wrap them around each knee and then pull the covers back over them to keep the heat in. But we will need to work quickly.”
He folded each towel into a long rectangle and let them heat for a few more minutes, turning them until he was satisfied. “Throw back the covers and pull your nightdress above your knees.”
“What? I can’t do that!”
He shot her an exasperated look. “Penny. You must consider me as you would a physician at this point. I only wish to help with your pain, nothing more.”
Her hands hovered uncertainly over the covers for a long moment until another twinge of pain seemed to make up her mind. “Very well.”
She flipped the covers back and hauled up the skirt of her nightdress, tucking it halfway up her thighs to protect her modesty.
Hugo ignored her shapely calves and brought one towel over to the bed, wrapping it firmly around her left knee.
He partially replaced the covers and brought the other towel over, wrapping it the same way before pulling the covers the rest of the way over her.
“How does that feel?”
Fatigue seemed to overtake her, and she nodded sleepily, her eyes already half-closed. “Lovely.”
“You should sleep if you need to.”
“Don’t want to.” Her eyes were drifting closed.
“Why not?”
Her lips moved, and he leaned in close to hear what she was saying.
“I’m finally having an adventure,” she murmured before relaxing against the pillows with a sigh.
He straightened and frowned down at her.
He knew she was right in her estimation of his brother.
If Oliver could spend all of his time traveling between estates to check on them and ensure they were running well, he would be ecstatic.
Only his duties in Parliament ever lured Oliver to London, and he always left as soon as may be.
Penny would be miserable on that endless circuit, always traveling to places she had already been, only spending a few weeks in London before starting the circuit once again.
But there was nothing to be done for it. If Penny did not marry Oliver, the family fortune would be forfeit. Even the prize money Hugo had won during the war would not be of much help. And her own fortune would keep Penny in comfort and luxury with all of the medical care she required.
It was in everyone’s best interest for Penny and Oliver to marry, even if Penny did not wish it. It was for everyone’s own good. Including hers.
As the day passed, with Penny alternately sleeping and reading, Hugo retrieved his own book from his travel bag and lounged at the foot of the bed, back pressed against the footboard.
These hours in their tiny room reminded him of being aboard ship, with the stretches of time between tasks.
There was always something else that had to be done, but also time to admire the sea.
In its place, he admired Penny. Her head was bent over her book again, a few loose locks of her dark hair spilling forward as she read. Her nightdress was long-sleeved and high-necked, but he was all too aware she wore nothing beneath it.
As she looked up, he looked down at his own book, hoping she had not noticed him watching her.
“What are you reading?” she asked.
He extended the spine of the book for her to read, and she blinked. “The Romance of the Forest?”
“Yes.”
“You read gothic novels?”
“Yes.” Her expression made him want to laugh, but he did not.
She was still gazing at him as though she was startled by this new knowledge. "I suppose I never thought a sailor might read. Not for enjoyment, that is."
He shook his head in disbelief at her ignorance. "What did you think we did all day?"
"Sail, of course. Hoist that main, and all that. But I suppose you must have some leisure time as well."
"There are other ways to pass the time aboard ship. Many of the men play instruments, or gamble. I prefer to read."
She laughed. "Forgive me. I know how foolish I must seem for being surprised. I had never thought of what you might read."
Her comment brought a surprising stab of hurt, and he pulled back. Of course Penny had never given much thought to him, her intended groom’s younger brother. She scarcely noticed him unless he was stood in front of her.
And yet... she had kept the swallow he had carved for her. Even brought it with her on this mad escapade. That must mean something.
Or it could mean nothing.
And either way, it did not matter. Penny was still his brother's betrothed so far as Hugo was concerned.
Perhaps she considered the engagement broken after her flight, but he would never be able to survive these close quarters with her if he did not keep his mind firmly on the fact that she was not free.
And not for him even if she was free.
Penny stretched, the covers falling around her waist, and he looked away from the breasts that strained against their covering.
More of her hair had slipped out of its braid, still too short after her illness to be fully contained.
He wanted to know what it would look like spread across the pillow as he gazed down at her.
How it would feel in his hands as he kissed her.
Even as he had the thought, she yawned and snuggled down under the covers again, wincing a little with the movement and shifting to find a more comfortable position. Now he felt like a monster, lusting after a woman who was ill and in pain.
It was his clear duty to care for Penelope Montgomery in this situation. Until he had her returned to Oliver’s custody, he must ensure she remained safe and virtuous against any man who desired her.
Including himself.