Chapter 11
As she rattled down the stairs, Penny acknowledged to herself that she had no claim on Hugo. She was still incensed at his staying away all night. She had tossed and turned, half-hoping, half-fearing he would knock to be let in during the night.
But he never had.
She had no fear he had… had misbehaved. Mrs. Robson was the only other woman in the house, and Hugo showed no signs of sharing a sailor’s notorious proclivities towards other men.
But he had returned stinking of rum and unsteady on his feet, which both angered and worried her.
She had never seen Hugo overindulge in anything the entire time she had known him.
If she wanted, she would be able to avoid him today. There would be the hustle and bustle of Christmas Day to fill the time and prevent conversation.
If he chose to stay away tonight as well, she would know what to think.
She descended to the kitchen, still in her righteous rage, and opened the door. Mrs. Robson spotted her and clearly knew what to do for her at once. She beckoned Penny over and tied an apron around her waist.
“Come knead this dough, dearie, so we’ll have fresh bread.”
Penny stalked over to the table and regarded the pale lump lying on the table. “What do I do?”
“You punch it down and then fold it in on itself while you push as hard as you can.” The other woman smiled and nodded her encouragement.
Penny smiled back for the first time that morning. “Thank you, Mrs. Robson.”
Her movements were clumsy at first, but she soon got the rhythm of it, punching and pushing as Mrs. Robson came by from time to time to check on her progress. As one ball of dough had received enough punishment, the innkeeper’s wife handed Penny another that required the same treatment.
Her hands were sore and her elbows were aching by the time she was done, but Penny had to admit Mrs. Robson had been right. She did feel much better having worked out her rage on the dough and not another person.
Mrs. Robson wiped her hands on her voluminous apron before removing it.
Beneath it, she wore what was clearly her best winter dress, a green velvet that was several years out of date but very becoming nonetheless.
The children gathered behind her, giggling, as their mother made sure their faces were washed and hair neatly combed before she turned to Penny.
“Time to go up for the reading, Mrs. Dalston.”
“I’m sorry… what?”
Mrs. Robson said patiently, “We’re to read the Bible ourselves for Christmas this morning since we can’t get to the village church and the curate can’t get to us. Don’t worry, I’m sure Mr. Robson has been able to find someone to do the honors.”
“Very well.” Penny wiped her own hands on her borrowed apron and removed it to follow along behind Mrs. Robson and her children. Hugo was likely still upstairs sleeping off last night’s carouse, so she need not be concerned she would have to see him.
She was wrong. He stood at the front of the room with Mr. Robson as they consulted the innkeeper’s Book of Common Prayer.
His hair was neatly combed and his cravat tied in a simple but elegant knot.
Clearly, as the most educated man available, Hugo had been pressed into service to read the Christmas gospel in the absence of any actual clergymen.
Good. She hoped he would be struck down by lightning for it.
She knew the moment he saw her and ducked her head to listen to one of the younger Robson children, who was chattering about the new dolly she had received for Christmas.
“Good morning, Penny.”
She gathered herself together and raised her head to glare at him, though his contrite expression weakened her anger a little. “Good morning, Captain Dalston.”
He winced a little, but still lowered himself to one knee so his head was even with hers where she sat on the low stool. Out of the corner of her eye, Penny could see Mrs. Robson gather her children in and begin telling them a bright story to give her and Hugo a little privacy.
Penny was not certain she wanted that privacy, but she looked at him anyway.
“I apologize for last night,” Hugo said.
“There is no need, Captain Dalston. We both know you have no real responsibility towards me.”
“But I do, Penny. If nothing else, as a friend of nearly a decade.”
“Acquaintance, really.”
His lips quirked, but he persisted. “I ought not to have left you alone all night, but I needed to think.”
“It is no concern of mine, Captain.”
“I think you know it was.”
Somehow, her hand was in his, and she could not recall if he had taken it or if she had given it to him. He gazed up at her, his face a little below hers, and her breath caught at the warmth in his eyes.
“Yesterday was the day you were to have married my brother. For more than half my life, I knew you as my brother’s promised wife. I could not lay next to you knowing I was in his place.”
“It was never his place,” she blurted, and his eyes glowed at her, making her lean towards him before she realized it.
“It’s difficult to explain. But I hope you will give me the opportunity to do so later.”
“Well…” His hand was warm in hers despite the winter chill of the room, his eyes sincere. “I suppose… we can discuss it later.”
He half-smiled, and raised her hand to kiss the back of it before he stood. “Thank you, Penny.”
She nodded and ducked her head, suddenly feeling shy under his regard. There was no need to feel shy, though. This was Hugo. He was right, they had known each other for years.
But, somehow, this time together had made her see him in a new light. Had made them see each other in a new light.
Now Penny was the one who was uncertain what she wanted. All she knew was that the kiss he had placed on the back of her hand still seemed to linger even as she rubbed the spot where his lips had so briefly rested.
Hugo made his way to the front of the room as men shuffled into the taproom, travelers waylaid by the storm just like she and Hugo were.
The youngest of Mrs. Robson’s brood nestled against his mother’s legs, eyes wide as he sucked his thumb and Hugo began reading the familiar words in a resonant voice.
“And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed… ”
As Hugo read the Christmas gospel aloud, he added a little prayer for forgiveness for himself.
Because if he had realized anything while he washed and dressed after his carouse of the night before, it was that self-flagellation would be useless.
The weight that had dropped from him when he had seen her that morning was that he had at last accepted that Penny would never be convinced to marry Oliver.
Even if Oliver was still willing to go through with the wedding, Penny would never agree.
Which meant that, for the first time since they had met as children… they were both free.
The realization made him a little dizzy, but he gathered himself together. He must prepare himself for Penny to be horrified by his feelings. Disgusted. He had taken her by surprise with the kiss. She might have decided she wanted nothing more to do with him.
But as he raised his eyes to look at her while he read from the Gospel of Luke, he knew he wanted Penny to have a joyful Christmas Day. One without having to worry about the future that was looming over them. Everything else he wanted could wait.
Once he finished the reading, he closed the Bible. Everyone in the room stared at him and he shifted uncomfortably. He was a sea captain, not a minister. The extent of his experience was presiding over any necessary burials at sea.
At last, Robson stepped forward and cleared his throat. “And now, gents and ladies, with the formalities complete… what do you say we start the feast?”
The room exploded with cheers, and Robson grinned at the crowd, bowing and accepting his accolades.
The door opened and a few of the younger men maneuvered a long table into the room, followed by a fussing Mrs. Robson carrying her youngest son.
She directed them to set it up at the longest wall to be covered by tablecloths.
Then the food was carried in, starting with two roasted geese already carved into small portions so as to have enough to go around. Bread and other baked goods followed, including several dozen tiny mince pies for luck. It was an impromptu feast, but very welcome nonetheless.
As the others gathered at the serving table, Hugo saw Penny looking around and moved to her side. “Allow me to make a plate for us.”
She jumped a little and looked up at him, then at the chaos unfolding around the table as men elbowed each other out of the way while the Robson boys ducked beneath adult arms to grab what they could reach before their mother scolded them.
“I… ” After another pause, she nodded. “Yes, thank you.”
He escorted her to a seat and fought his way to the table, deftly maneuvering himself and his plate to get a helping of everything on offer, more than enough for two. He added two mince pies on top and ducked his way back to where Penny waited for him.
“Splendid!” she said as he set the plate down. “I did not have a proper breakfast this morning.”
“Did Mrs. Robson put you to work in the kitchens to earn your keep?”
“I asked her to give me an occupation.” She seemed to suddenly remember she was supposed to be angry with him. “Not that it’s any concern of yours how I spend my time.”
Subtly, he pushed the larger portion of roast goose towards her. She was still too thin. “Tell me about your aunt in Bath.”
She brightened. “Aunt Nelson is my mother’s half-sister. Or cousin. I cannot quite recall what the relation is. But she has always been very kind to both Pippa and myself and we often spent time with her and her companion in Bath.”
“Her companion?”
Penny forked up another mouthful of roast goose. “Yes, Mademoiselle d’Arnault. They have lived together for years and years now and are very close. They even share a room, like sisters.”