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BEFORE THE DAY ENDED, Penwyck relented and told his mother he would speak with Miss Darby to ascertain her preference, if any, in a suitor.
With a sly smile, Lady Penwyck said she thought that quite a good idea.
Afterward, Penwyck quit the house and returned again to the Montgomery mansion to speak with Deirdre's father on behalf of the ill-fated lovers.
Following dinner that evening, the earl did not retire to his study with a brandy or join one of his gentlemen friends at his club. Instead he accompanied his mother and Miss Darby to the family's cozy but not so tidy sitting room at the rear of the house. He seldom ventured into this room, although it had been a particular favourite of his as a boy. He and his brothers had been allowed to come here in the evening and freely play with their toy soldiers and other games whilst Lord and Lady Penwyck sat reading or talking by the fire.
He assumed his mother and Miss Darby sat here often. The overstuffed chairs and sofas were littered with ladies' magazines . . . Ackermann s Repository, the Lady's Monthly Museum, and La Belle Assemblee . . . as well as a needlepoint sampler his mother had been labouriously stitching upon this past half decade.
"Why, Penny dear, do you mean to join us this evening?" Lady Penwyck asked brightly as he followed her and Tessa into the room.
She began to clear a place for him on one of the sofas.
"Do sit here beside m . . . " She cast a quick glance at Tessa. "Perhaps you would prefer to sit there beside Tessa. It is a bit chilly this evening and the aspect by the fire is especially pleasant. I shall sit . . ." she drug a chair over, "here."
Exchanging guarded glances with one another, as instructed Tessa and Lord Penwyck both sat down on the small settee by the fire.
Presently, Lord Penwyck said, "I took tea with Mr. and Mrs. Montgomery this afternoon."
"Oh, my dear, how are they faring? Has Gracie recovered from the ordeal? I really must pay a call tomorrow. What a simply horrid turn after our lovely party last night!"
"Indeed." Penwyck crossed one long leg over the other. "However, I daresay things have turned out rather well, considering."
Tessa leaned forward. "I can hardly bear the suspense, sir. What did Mr. Montgomery say? Are Deirdre and Jeffrey to be allowed to marry?"
Penwyck turned a supremely satisfied look on Miss Darby. He thought she looked especially lovely this evening in a green cambric round gown trimmed with plaid braid. A soft kerseymere shawl of a darker green was draped about her shoulders. He favoured the young lady with a pleasant smile.
"After a great deal of deliberation, the Montgomerys have agreed to announce their daughter's engagement to Mr. Randall in the newspapers."
"Deirdre is to be married?" both Lady Penwyck and Tessa cried at once.
Penwyck grinned. "By teatime, it had already become clear that despite Deirdre's promise never to see Randall again, to enforce the edict would merely hasten the pair's departure for Gretna Green."
"Did I not tell you they were desperate to be married?" Tessa put in, her blue eyes sparkling happily.
The look of joy on Miss Darby's face was as enchanting as any Penwyck had ever beheld. He drew in a long breath and settled back to bask in the sheer pleasure he alone had brought her. The glow that suffused him soon grew so warm (he was quite near the fire) that had he not been occupying the prime spot next to Miss Darby, he'd have sought a considerably cooler aspect. As it was, he decided the reward was well worth the discomfort.
Beside him on the sofa, Tessa was, indeed, thrilled.
"I cannot think how you managed it!" she cried. "I thought Mr. Montgomery so exceedingly angry this morning, it would take a miracle to placate him."
She turned a beaming smile on Lady Penwyck and proceeded to recount the events of the dramatic interval to Alice. Because Tessa had spent the bulk of the day in her room, she had not seen or talked to the countess all day.
When the topic had been fully exhausted, Lady Penwyck professed to a prodigious tiredness and, with a bit of a gleam in her eye, declared her intent to retire.
Tessa felt quite weary herself, but for some reason was loath to bring the evening to a close. She'd had a difficult time today thrusting pleasant but unsettling memories of Lord Penwyck from her thoughts. That he was again being as affable and congenial as he had been this morning in the carriage quite lifted her spirits.
She was further pleased when he chose not to quit the room in his mother's wake, but instead asked if she would care for a brandy or a glass of wine.
Having risen when his mother did, the earl headed toward a small sideboard and reached for one of several decanters sitting atop it.
"A dram of brandy would be nice." Tessa smiled. "Thank you, sir."
After he handed her a neat snifter, Tessa felt a bit of a pang when Lord Penwyck seated himself in the chair vacated by his mother instead of returning to the settee beside her.
Drawing in a deep breath, he said without preamble, "Mother has asked me to draw up a list" His tone was quite solemn. "Before doing so, I thought it prudent to consult with you."
Still wondering why Lord Penwyck had not returned to sit beside her, and feeling somewhat disquieted at being left alone in his company, Tessa only half heard what the earl had said. In an absent gesture, she lifted her glass to her lips and enjoyed the feel of the velvety brandy as it slipped down her throat. "A list?" she repeated. Then, when it occurred to her he was soliciting her views, her spirits lifted considerably. She directed a warm smile his way. "What sort of list?"
Penwyck took a sip of his own drink. "Of suitable candidates for your hand in marriage."
Tessa started. "M-marriage?"
"As Mother rightly pointed out to me at breakfast, the ultimate object of introducing a young lady to Society is to see her wed," Penwyck replied matter-of-factly, his gaze steady. "Before setting down the names of suitable gentlemen, I thought it best to consult with you," he added.
Tessa gulped. "I . . . I . . . " For some unfathomable reason, she felt stung to the quick. Today he had finally seemed to warm toward her. That, of a sudden, he should inform her he meant to marry her off to . . . to . . . She knew Lady Penwyck thought she ought to marry. It was just that she thought she had made it clear to Lord Penwyck that she had no intention of doing so.
Without thinking what she was about, she brought the snifter to her lips and drained it in a single gulp. Then, because her throat felt set afire, she coughed.
And coughed.
And coughed again.
"I-If . . . if I might . . . cough! . . . have a glass of water, sir."
Penwyck leapt to his feet.
An instant later, he knelt on the settee beside Tessa, a glass of cool water in his hand.
Tessa gratefully drank it straight down. She had ceased to cough, but she had not yet sufficiently recovered from the shock of his pronouncement to speak calmly. She absently handed the empty glass back to the earl, who was sitting quite close to her, a look of genuine solicitude on his face.
Tessa raised a hurt, but shuttered, blue gaze to meet his, and was at once perplexed by the raw hunger she beheld in the earl's dark brown eyes. Why, if she didn't know better, she'd think the gentleman wished to . . . to kiss her!
She had never been this close to him before. She had been alone with him several times for the few private interviews he'd conducted with her soon after her arrival in Town, and once in the Chalmers's library when he'd burst in upon her and Lord Dickerson.
But, this . . . this was somehow vastly different.
She could not think what it meant or why he would be gazing at her in such a . . . lustful fashion.
Because she'd never before been in such a situation, she did the only thing she could think to do. She sprang to her feet and all but ran from him. Reaching the chair where Lord Penwyck had been seated, she turned to face him.
"A-as I have said before, sir, I have no intention of marrying. I am perfectly content as I am. I apprised you of the true reason I came to London. I have not abandoned my Cause, sir. I still have every intention of doing what I can to forward it, despite your disapproval," she added staunchly.
Penwyck had risen to his feet and they stood facing one another. "I did not mean to overset you, Miss Darby," he began, not wishing to do further damage to the fragile footing he had managed to gain with her, "but if we do not make some sort of show of finding you a husband, there is no saying to what lengths Mother will go to forward her cause."
He ran a hand through his dark locks. "Mother can be every bit as tenacious as you when she sets her mind to something, Miss Darby. I rather expect I may have also inherited that trait, but that is neither here nor there, is it?" He grinned disarmingly. "Perhaps you might give me some indication of the sort of gentleman you might favor . . . that is, if you were to favor one."
He watched Miss Darby chew on her lower lip as if she were considering his request, but he noted her blue eyes were still clouded with uncertainty. That she did not trust him or perhaps any man was becoming quite clear to him. She had seemed to open up a bit with him this morning in the carriage, but he wondered now if he had pushed his luck by remaining alone with her tonight.
He halted that line of thought when she said, "V-very well, if I must. However," she added hesitantly, "m-most gentlemen I have met thus far in London seem . . . far too frivolous for my taste. I do not care for dandyish, or foppish men."
Penwyck suppressed a grin. He'd never before asked such a question of a lady. Of a sudden, he realized her answer could prove quite enlightening, as well as entertaining.
"In America," she went on, her voice gaining a bit of strength, "men are more rugged than they are here. Many are accustomed to working out of doors. Even gentlemen like my stepfather take to the fields at times. Did you know Thomas Jefferson plants his own garden?"
She seemed to forget her fear for an instant, her blue eyes regaining some of their former animation.
"No," Penwyck murmured. "I did not know that."
"Mr. Jefferson even at his advanced age has one of the largest gardens in the country. He is quite knowledgeable about plants and trees and all manner of herbs."
She stopped suddenly, apparently realizing she'd gone off on a tangent.
"Are you saying you admire gentlemen farmers?" Penwyck asked with interest.
Her lips tightened again. "I do not object to them. But I would not consider marrying one unless he was a principled man, one who is honest and trustworthy."
"Ah." Penwyck continued to gaze at her. "If you will forgive me for saying so, Miss Darby, you appear to have a bit of trouble trusting men. I cannot help but wonder what has caused you to think so ill of us."
Again, a shuttered gaze obscured the lively sparkle in her shining blue eyes and she clamped her lips tightly shut again.
Penwyck drew in a deep breath. "Very well, then. You do not favor fops and dandies. But, you do admire a . . . " he directed a bemused look at her, ". . . a virile man." His lips began to twitch. "Perhaps I should be jotting this down."
He was pleased to note a slight upturn of her pink lips.
"Are you making sport of me, sir?" She tilted her auburn head. "Because I do not like that quality in a gentleman, either." She seemed to regain a bit of her former sauciness when she said, "I do not understand why men think they are the superior creatures. God gave all of us brains, you know. There are a good many things about the American Constitution, sirrah, that foreign countries would do well to emulate. We are all of us created equal. I take that to mean men and women alike. Whilst women in America do not yet have all the freedom they deserve, I daresay that day is coming. Mark my words, sir!"
Penwyck listened as if transfixed. Once again, he was beholding the fiery passion he'd witnessed in Miss Darby when she spoke that afternoon in William Cobbett's office. Dashed if she wasn't the most arresting female he had ever met. How he longed to delve deeply into her thoughts and uncover everything about her. He'd never felt this way about a woman before.
Cocking her auburn head, she suddenly said, "I've an idea."
"I am breathless to hear it," Penwyck murmured. It was all he could do not to gather her into his arms and kiss her senseless.
"If I spot the sort of gentlemen I would like to meet, I will alert you, and you can present me to him straightaway."
"Ah. And, in the meantime . . ." He paused. "What are we to do until you spot this paragon?"
Tessa shrugged. "I don't know. Perhaps I shall simply go about on your arm."
Without considering the effect his words might have, Penwyck blithely replied, "I see only one problem with that plan." He reached into his waistcoat pocket and jerked out a cream-coloured sheet of paper. "I have already drawn up a list."
"Of gentlemen?" Tessa cried. "But I thought . . . "
"For myself. It is also time I married. If I am seen too much in your company, that will rather spoil my chances with other ladies, wouldn't you agree?"
When she suddenly blanched, he realized he had inadvertently ruined it between them yet again. Her offer to go about on his arm was her way of reaching out to him, of trusting him. His thoughtless remark must have felt like one more slap in the face.
He watched her blue eyes become veiled again. "I see." She made a move to brush past him. "Well, I shouldn't wish to impose, of course. As I said before, I have no intention of marrying, so it makes no difference to me if I meet a suitable man or not."
Penwyck wasn't about to let this day end on an ill note between them. As she sailed past him, he reached to grasp her wrist, but missed and suddenly found his arm encircling her trim waist. With a swift move, he pressed her lithe body against his own.
"Miss Darby," he murmured, his lips mere inches from hers, his dark eyes smoldering with pent-up passion, "we have made such a good start today, first in the carriage, and . . . well, the truth is, I wish only to be your friend."
He could feel her quick intake of breath. Fascinated, he watched her pretty nostrils flare. The press of her ample bosom against his hard chest sent a jolt of white-hot desire blazing through him. He tried to ignore the sensation, but when his gaze dropped to the pink bow of her mouth, he could not resist lowering his head and brushing those tantalizing lips with his own.
It was the merest of kisses. He didn't dare give in to the flaming passion he felt. The girl did not trust him as it was. But because she was not resisting his amorous advance, he held her close for what seemed an excruciating time, his fiery dark eyes blazing into her icy blue ones.
Finally, he said, "Truce?"
Her eyes hardened once more, but not before Penwyck caught the glimmer of an answering fire within their depths. "Or what?" she whispered. "You will take me against my will?"
Penwyck released her at once, his eyes narrowing in anger. "I have done nothing to cause you to think ill of me, Miss Darby.”
Without a word, he watched her stalk to the door and disappear into the corridor.
Penwyck stood staring after her. Indeed, he had never met a woman like Miss Darby before. She was a complex web of mystery and intrigue.
And, he finally admitted, her mystery and intrigue had totally captivated him.