Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“Ever?”
“As far as the remainder of the world is concerned, you will remain a homebound invalid for the rest of your life. You may have the bare minimum of servants—old, unpleasant, male ones. No callers.”
“No callers?”
“None.”
“Not even my grandchildren?”
“Especially not your grandchildren. If you care anything for them, you will do precisely as I say. If I find you’ve broken this agreement, I will expose not only your perversion but your insolvency. Your children and grandchildren will be tainted by association. And Mr. Duke will have my full support to do what he will with you.”
“Insupportable,” Lambert snarled. “I won’t be subordinate to a guttersnipe.”
“Mr. Duke is worth hundreds of you. Thousands.”
“Only because he stole that money from decent families.”
“I’m not talking about his fortune. I’m speaking of his worth as a man. As for decency . . . ? You have no grounds to speak on that matter.”
He fished about for another argument. “Bradford, surely you won’t permit her to do this.”
“My brother has no choice in the matter. Even if he offers you mercy, I will not.”
Lambert’s chin quavered. The reality of his situation seemed to finally be sinking in. “Surely we can come to some other agreement. Think of your parents, my friendship with your father. We can find a way to settle this misunderstanding, poppet.”
“Don’t you ever—ever—call me that again. Or I swear, I will shoot you dead myself.” Penny stared directly into his repulsive, cowardly eyes. “I’m not your ‘poppet’ any longer. I own you. And in the future, if you address me at all, it will be as Lady Penelope Duke.” A more fitting idea struck her, and a cold smile touched her lips. “Better yet, you may call me the Duchess of Ruin.”
Aunt Caroline joined them. “Time for you to be on your way, Lambert. There’s a carriage waiting. These gentlemen will see you to it.”
Two giants emerged from the fog to take Lambert by either arm and drag him away.
The older woman smiled. “Now, that was satisfying. I never knew until this moment how much I wanted to have henchmen.” With a pat to Penny’s shoulder and a swish of skirts, she turned to follow.
Only Bradford lingered. “Penny . . .” He pushed a hand through his hair. “Deuced if I know what to make of all this.”
“There are two alternatives. You believe me, or you don’t.” She drew a steadying breath. “You should know this. I’ve decided that I can’t have anything to do with that man, ever again. If you choose to maintain a relationship with him—of any sort—I can’t have a relationship with you.”
He searched her eyes. “You’re going to make me choose?”
“I have to. Otherwise, I’ll never be at peace.”
He looked into the distance and was silent for a long moment. “He’s my wife’s father.”
“I know.” Penny forced down the emotion choking her throat. His decision was nothing she hadn’t expected. She’d always known which of them he would chose. “Safe travels, Bradford.”
He went to join his father-in-law.
She turned and walked in the other direction, not wanting to watch them leave. Gabriel walked alongside her.
“Are they gone?” she asked, a few minutes later.
He looked over his shoulder. “Yes.”
“Good.”
She promptly crumpled to the ground. Her knees buckled beneath her and she leaned forward, bracing her palms on the turf for strength. She watched the damp earth seep under her fingernails. She felt cold droplets of dew wetting her stockings. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears. But none of it felt real. She floated above herself, an observer.
Then Gabriel’s arms went around her, tethering her to the earth. Air flooded her lungs, then rushed out as a tearless sob. She turned and buried her face in his chest, clinging to his coat.
He rocked her gently, murmuring words of love in her ear and stroking her hair. “That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“I want to go home,” she whispered. “I want to cry, and sleep for days, and possibly break things.”
“That can be arranged. Mrs. Burns has Bathsheba Wendleby’s old china stashed in the cellar. Service for eighteen.”
“Perfect.” She closed her eyes. “I’m also going to find a new litter of kittens, and I don’t want to hear anything about it.”
“You won’t hear a word from me. Even if you have a hundred kittens.” His hand stilled on her back, and he added, “That was hyperbole, you understand.”
She lifted her head. “And in a few weeks, or maybe months, I want to start planning a wedding. The biggest, grandest wedding Mayfair has ever seen. The guest list will fill the society column for weeks.”
“I hope I’m invited.”
She gave him a teasing pinch. “You will not be invited. You’ll be the groom. And it’s going to be the best wedding in the world.”
Chapter Thirty-One
On the morning of the wedding, a dozen things went wrong.