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The quick pain in his cheek faded but left heat behind from where Penelope slapped him. When he glanced beyond the screen of the potted plants and ferns, he breathed a sigh of relief, for no one in the close vicinity was paying them the slightest mind.
But that didn’t excuse her improper behavior regardless of if she was under duress because she held him responsible for the ruination of her sister and the humiliation of the Watterson family in general. After everything, after wanting to distance himself from her family and their threats, after the whole sordid drama he’d been an unwilling witness to, he was genuinely glad to see her.
“I’m sorry, for many things three years ago.” Mindful of her history of mental distress, Adam laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Look at me, Penelope.” He’d never liked the shortened version of her name that her family insisted upon calling her. It somehow cheapened the woman she was.
“You are one of the only people who call me that outside of my mother,” she whispered and wiped at what he assumed was moisture on her cheek.
“It suits you more than Penny.” He huffed out a soft breath. “That word is a one cent coin in America, and you are worth far more than that.” What the hell was wrong with him that he would say something like that out loud? It only showed his weakness and would give her ammunition to destroy him if that was her intent.
“A sweet sentiment, but one that has no bearing here.” Though she faced him, it was readily obvious she was annoyed, and in that annoyance, deep in the depths of her brown eyes, was slight panic, usually a precursor to an attack of anxiety, but there was something else there, something that glimmered then was hidden, a longing of sorts, that intrigued him.
“I apologize for speaking out of turn. It would seem I’m woefully out of practice being in English society.” What did she want in her heart of hearts, and why hadn’t she achieved it by now? When she didn’t answer immediately, he took the opportunity to study her.
The blonde hair caught in an arrangement of curls at the back of her head hadn’t changed since the last time he’d seen her. Already, his fingers itched to remove those pins and tangle themselves into that mass. Would it be as fragrant as the apple blossom perfume she still wore? Though her gown was of simple lines and suited her average frame, he couldn’t help but wish to see her rigged out in clothes with richer hues with jewelry that would enhance her charms and natural beauty.
She lowered her gaze to the knot of his cravat, and he was struck by the blonde fringe of her lashes against the flush in her cheeks. It was almost... angelic. “How do you think you can ever explain away all the horrors you have perpetrated against my family as if they don’t matter?” Somehow, she managed to infuse the inquiry with emotion that hit like darts in his chest. “As if your own life hasn’t been affected by them?”
“That’s just it. I can’t.” Unfortunately, three years had passed, and he still couldn’t tell her the truth out of respect to others and the unspoken vow he made to a couple of them. He continued to hold her gaze, hoping to introduce calm into the conversation. “I wish I could. More than anything, but the thoughts are still there. That scandal changed my damned life.”
“And you don’t think mine wasn’t changed either?”
“Of course it was! Why the hell do you think I fled all the way to America? I simply couldn’t bear to linger here where nothing was as it should be.” Shaking his head, he patted her shoulder then let his gloved fingers slide down her arm until he lightly clasped her fingers. At one time, there might have been a chance for a romance with her, but time had passed. Nothing was the same.
“What does that mean?”
He didn’t know anymore. “Believe me, If I’d had my druthers...” His words trailed away, for no good could come of continuing this explanation. He’d kept his secrets, no matter that doing so had punched a hole in his own reputation within society, and in doing so, he’d remained true to himself.
That held weight, that had mattered. Did it still now?
“So because you are unwilling to take responsibility or talk about what happened, I’m to just forget it?” When she squeezed his fingers before releasing him, heated tingles surged up his arm to his elbow.
“Of course not.” Keeping his voice low, he swallowed hard to encourage moisture into his suddenly dry throat. It was dangerous, playing this game, for she wasn’t one to leave things at face value, and the truth would destroy the rest of her. Long ago he’d vowed never to be the one to do that to her. I won’t be like them. She doesn’t deserve that. “However, I thought you might believe in my innocence merely because I told you I wasn’t involved.” It was a tiresome subject, one he’d hoped he’d put behind him, but seeing her again? Talking with her about this? Recognizing the quest for the truth in her eyes ripped open those old wounds.
And damn if that box where he’d stored those old feelings for her didn’t suddenly come unbuckled as it burst at the seams.
“Like my sister’s innocence that was stolen from her that night?”
If she thought to accuse him in this public forum, she could think again. He had grown, had left that all behind. “Please don’t poke about in matters that you shouldn’t.” The words felt as if pulled from a tight throat. “There are so many things you don’t know... Things that will cause you so much pain...”
“As if I haven’t already been there?” Then she pressed a hand to her chest, which only served to drag his attention to the tops of her breasts above the edge of her bodice. “Oh, dear.”
Immediately, protection for her flared. “Breathe deeply.” He moved closer to her and once more took her hand, rubbed his gloved thumb over her knuckles. “You once warned me this would happen, and you also told me how to respond.”
She nodded and clung to his hand while doing the breathing exercises. “Even though I’m constantly reminded of what happened years ago, I haven’t had cause to think about it within society like this, and knowing some people might remember if they see us together—” A gasp interrupted her words.
“Shh. We needn’t discuss it anymore.” As long as he kept his tone soothing, she might come out of the attack. “Perhaps we should change the subject,” he said as he urged her through one set of open French-paned doors and to the shallow terrace beyond, making certain to stay inside the golden pool of light from the candles. “How have you spent the past few years?”
When she tried to snort in apparent derision, a string of coughing took possession of her. Once she finally got control of herself, she looked askance at him. “It was quite dull being stuck in the country with no form of entertainment.”
“Surely there were books and embroidery and walks.”
She huffed. “Of course I read copiously, but I’m woefully inadequate at handiwork. Walks were the only way I could curb my anger and even grief from missing my father.”
Faint disappointment coiled like a cold snake in his gut, for she didn’t mention missing him. But that was to be expected. “I’m sorry life took a drastic change.” For both of us. “Didn’t you do anything that brought you joy? We are all only allotted a certain amount of time on this Earth...”
“Oh, I...” A dainty pink blush stained her cheeks that made her even more angelic.
“You chased a young man you have fancied?” He didn’t want to hear the answer, but he couldn’t help teasing her and cajoling her into a better humor.
“No.” An expression of resignation crossed her face as she waved away the comment. “My family’s reputation is far too damaged for such a thing. I fear the only way I’ll ever find a match is if my brother arranges one or loses my hand at a gaming table.” A shiver shook her form. Was it marriage she took exception to or the thought of having her brother arrange it? “I, uh, learned the skill of knitting from our housekeeper. It was one of the most fascinating endeavors I’ve undertaken.”
“Oh? Now that is interesting.”
“It is.” She nodded. “Most people in high society consider it something that belongs to the working classes, but for me, I find it calming. Keeping my hands occupied forces me to focus my mind and thoughts. It seems to keep the stressful hysteria away for a time.”
Thank goodness there was something that helped. Relief twisted down his spine. “That sounds like a lovely way to pass the time.” And it endeared her to him even more.
“I think so, even if my mother frowns each time my needles come out.” When she shrugged, the bodice pulled taut across her breasts, and his imagination fired. “Because of my sister’s difficulties, as well as my own life being adopted, I spent the past two years making blankets for babies.” Another blush stained her cheeks, but pride danced in her eyes, and he adored that spirit. “Once a month I gather them up and distribute them throughout the county to the villages. I give the blankets to women who have more children than they can endure, families who don’t have much in the way of wages or essentials. Sometimes I tuck a loaf of bread into those deliveries.”
“How wonderful!” Surprise slammed into his chest. After the way her family treated him, after the anger she harbored toward him, she had managed to retain compassion. “Ah, Penelope, I’m proud of you for that.” Damn, but he needed to try and rein in his penchant for allowing a crack in his defenses.
“Thank you.” Shock and gratitude reflected in her eyes. “I appreciate that.” Then she smiled and it completely transformed her into more of the angel he likened her to in his mind.
“You’re welcome, but it’s true.” The sensation of falling assailed him, and Adam had the horrible suspicion he’d never stopped tumbling down that slippery slope into love for her. The momentum had only halted for the time they were apart. “It sets you apart from so many others.”
And made her shine even more. Did she realize that?
“Like you, I wish to do something for those less fortunate than us. They don’t deserve their fate and they certainly didn’t put themselves in that position—most of the time. Frankly, it stops me from stewing about my own situation.” As she spoke, she moved closer to him, and belatedly he realized she hadn’t released his hand.
“I understand that all too keenly.” It was only too natural to close the distance between them. The waltz behind them had ended and now another country reel was underway, but he didn’t care. Not when Penelope was back in his life, and the scent of apple blossoms drifted to his nose. The memories they’d had from before everything went bad skipped through his mind. Was there a way to recapture those days?
Perhaps more to the point, did he want to? After everything? Two days ago, he was certain he wanted nothing else to do with her or her family, but now, confusion clouded those thoughts.
“What did you do to forget?” The breath from her whispered words warmed his chin as she gazed up at him.
He shrugged, brought her hand to his lips. “Learned everything I could about growing tobacco and harvesting it, getting to market, and then shipping it out to buyers. And unlike many of the plantation owners in some sections of America, I wrote a treatise on how that could be accomplished without the use of African slaves. If my theory is put into practice, both the plantation owners as well as workers given wages will all benefit.”
Of course, he was roundly heckled and laughed at whenever he tried to give such speeches in taverns, so he rather doubted change would come any time soon.
“You are a man ahead of your time, Adam.”
The sound of his Christian name on her lips sounded all too right, and he continued to drift closer to her. Just as he would have lowered his head and kissed her, he came to his senses. “Thank you. I think so too, and the subject of slavery is part of the political climate I would jump in to speak against if I made Virginia my home.” As much as he wished to kiss her, he couldn’t do such a thing in a public venue.
That would be certain folly for them both.
Surprise flitted over her face. “I never thought you for an activist.”
“Neither did I, but there are some things in life I cannot stand by and let happen. Mistreatment of living beings is one of them.” While she peered at him with slightly parted lips that were far too tempting, he quickly asked, “Uh, did you come to London with a sponsor or friend?” The wisps of a cool breeze glided over his skin. Too bad he couldn’t spirit her away into a garden for a more private chat.
“No.” She shook her head and took a step backward from him, releasing his hand. “My brother escorted me here. No doubt he’s got plans to introduce me to some of his eligible friends.”
What a horrible idea. “Ah.” A kiss was definitely not possible, and he couldn’t risk that at all, not without invoking that man’s wrath again. Above everything, he needed to make certain Penelope was kept calm.
“Don’t worry. He isn’t a bear.” When she smiled once more, his whole world tilted sideways. “If you come to call, you could say hello to him. I’m sure Charles wouldn’t mind. Surely, he’s not still upset about the mistress you fought over three years ago.”
Was that story he’d told to explain the words they’d exchanged? Hot annoyance rose in Adam’s chest. It was on the tip of his tongue to reveal all to her, but she didn’t deserve to hear the lies she’d been told by her family, and he didn’t know why they’d distorted the truth from her to begin with.
Then her words actually sank in. “Do you want me to call?”
“Yes.” When she batted her eyelashes, he frowned. Was she flirting with him?
“Why?” Suspicions immediately began to chase through his mind. Was this some elaborate scheme to see him humiliated? Her attitude had somersaulted from where the evening started.
“I’m not exactly certain.” She tilted her head to one side and regarded him with a mysterious grin. “If I’m being honest, I want to see you again. In a social capacity.”
For long moments he remained silent as he studied her. “I thought I had invoked your ire?”
“You did.” Another blush stained her cheeks. “However, exceptions can be made. Don’t you agree?”
“Well, I...”
As she came toward him, she briefly laid a hand on his chest, let her fingers drift to the buttons on his evening coat before she withdrew her touch. “We had a decent time together before... things happened. Perhaps I want a return of that friendship... as well as other things.” As far as he could tell, she was being genuine in her thoughts and actions.
What was this, then? “Do you speak of a possible romance between us?”
She shrugged then made her way around him and went back into the ballroom. “Only time can tell, but don’t you think it might be fun to see where fate will lead?”
“I...” He was the biggest nodcock that ever lived, but he found himself nodding in agreement. “I would enjoy that very much.” And like a puppy who hadn’t realized he was heading toward danger, he followed her blindly. “As long as you are fully aware this might cause some of the older gossips to remember those old scandals.”
Could his reputation take another hit? Could he, personally? If he left England again, he knew in his heart that he would never return.
For a fraction of a second, confliction shadowed her expression, but it was gone by her next blink, and she nodded. “I am sure. Perhaps it’s not good for my health to keep all this anger inside. Though it will be difficult, I want to try and lessen the load.” Her voice caught. “Something needs to give,” she finished in a broken whisper.
His chest tightened. “Then I shall call on you. Either tomorrow or the next day depending on my schedule.” God strike him for a fool, but he couldn’t let this opportunity pass. Yes, there were deep-seated problems within her family. Yes, they had all lied to her about various things. Yes, he’d taken the blame for a few of them in order to protect the innocent.
Yet...
The feelings he’d had for Penelope had never truly died, and if he was given the chance to explore them, why wouldn’t he take it?
“Good.” Though she smiled, the gesture didn’t quite meet her eyes this time. Why? “I shall look forward to our next meeting.”
“As will I.” Then he stared after her, watching her retreat to walk the perimeter of the ballroom until she reached the collection of chairs with gilded legs where she took a seat near a cluster of other women.
What the devil is wrong with me?
