Chapter Three

The rented and nearly empty town home in Mayfair was quiet and still when Penny finally returned late that evening.  She had known it would be and for once, she was thankful for its cavernous silence, her encounter with Harry Greer leaving her shaken to her very core.

She had been right.  He knew.

He might not know everything about her uncle’s plan, not to mention her part in it, but Harry knew Penny wasn’t in London merely to secure a husband.  Somehow, the blasted man had figured out with a single glance that she was here for another reason, and she had a terrible feeling that he wouldn’t let the matter rest until he uncovered all of her secrets.  Every. Last. One.

Before she left Cumbria, Uncle Charles had gone to great lengths to warn Penny about Harry, but she hadn’t listened, though it hadn’t been intentional.  Instead, all Penny had heard was the price she would pay for her failure ringing in her ears that fateful day several months ago.  So when her uncle had been warning her about those in London who both could and would derail his plans for retribution against Lord Fullbridge, Penny had only listened with half an ear, the whip marks on her back still stinging so badly that fear of enduring such a beating again was all she could think about.

So now as she slowly trudged her way up the stairs and into her empty chambers, her stomach grumbling because she had been too nervous to eat at Lady Covington’s, Penny did her best to remember something – anything – about the infamous Bow Street Runner that she might be able to use against him.  She had to remember at least one small tidbit.  Otherwise, her body would once more pay the price for her failures.

And then her cousin would pay an even worse price.

Penny couldn’t allow that to happen.  Not to sweet, innocent Josephine.  Shy and unsophisticated, and previously extremely ill, nineteen-year-old Josie would never be able to bear up under Uncle Charles’ torture the way that Penny could.  She would also be beyond horrified that her beloved father would even contemplate doing such a thing to his own daughter.  But Josie loved her father to a fault and, in the end, would do what he commanded, even if it broke her in the process.

There was no doubt in Penny’s mind that if she failed, Josie would be the one forced to take Penny’s place in this mad scheme.  Her uncle’s threat in that regard had not been an idle one.  After all, neither Penny nor Josie held any place in Lord Charles Marshwood’s affections.  The place in his heart where love of any kind had ever lived belonged to Elizabeth and only Elizabeth.  There would never be room for anyone else.

That was why Penny had to remember everything she could about Harry Greer, anything and everything she might use as a weapon to put him off of her trail.  Penny could survive her uncle.  She had survived worse.  Josie?  She wouldn’t.  She was far too fragile.  It was as simple as that.

Halfway up the stairs, Penny paused and looked backward.  The foyer far below was a mix of marble and tile.  How easy it would be to simply fling herself down the stairs and end this madness, allowing the part-time, rented staff to find her body when they arrived in the morning.

But Penny couldn’t, and she wouldn’t do such a thing.  She would never make anyone else live with the pain of knowing she took her own life.  Not that there would be anyone to care, really, but on the off chance that someone, somewhere did?  Someone like Josie?  Well, Penny would not inflict that sort of pain on them.  Especially not on her cousin.

Blowing out a breath, Penny turned back to the stairs and continued upward and then down the long, chilly corridor that led to her suite of rooms.  They would be cold.  Frigidly so.  They always were.  The staff here at Willfield House arrived in the early mornings to give the appearance that the house was fully staffed.  They would remain during the day to receive visitors and keep up the appearance that Penny and her unseen, fictional cousin or aunt or whoever she was, were occupying the rental property as was befitting women of their station.

However, when the sun began to set, Janie, the lady’s maid employed to assist Penny, would help her temporary mistress into her evening clothes and then, just like the rest of the Earl of Willfield’s rented and borrowed staff, she would disappear into the night, going home to Cheapside or wherever it was that the maid lived when she wasn’t here before reappearing the next morning.

Penny had never thought to ask Janie where she went each night, mostly because asking meant becoming close to these people and that was something she couldn’t risk.  Penny couldn’t take the chance that anyone here was spying on her and reporting back to her uncle.

If Penny were going to endure this hell, she would do so her way.  And that meant taking her time and enjoying the all-too-brief taste of what her life should have been like while she had the chance.  Because once she was forced to put her uncle’s plan into motion, Penny would never be able to return to this world again.

London would become a distant memory.  As would balls and museums and the theater.  Shopping and walks in Hyde Park and afternoon tea.  All of the magical things that Penny was just now learning to savor and appreciate – not to mention all the places she had yet to go and the things she had not tried – would be gone, stripped from her life when she was banished forever to the outermost reaches of England.  Or farther.  She had not discounted the possibility that her uncle might put her on a ship and send her off somewhere far away, on her own forever.

Therefore, Penny was determined to enjoy the moments that she could take for her own, insisting to her uncle that his plan would be more believable if she played the role of an innocent miss on the hunt for a kind and loving husband.  Her uncle had thought that a stupid plan until Viscount Westerly had agreed with Penny, saying that the ton would more easily believe the events in Penny’s plan than in her uncle’s.  And in this case, revenge was all about what people believed rather than what was the truth.

So Penny had been allowed at least a small measure of freedom.  She went mostly to the modiste’s shop or another clothier of some sort, but also managed to sneak in a trip to the British Museum on occasion.  She also took in the odd musicale or spent a night at the theater, always keeping to the shadows of course, but still simply enjoying herself rather than constantly being on the hunt for Lod Fullbridge – a man who wasn’t even in London anyway and a man Penny would have avoided forever if she could have managed it.

Penny had her freedom.  For now.

Still, if Uncle Charles had his way, Penny would soon be shedding her clothes on Lord Fullbridge’s front stoop, crying that she was carrying his child after he had seduced her, and all but begging him to wed her.  That had largely been her uncle’s original plan anyway.  Thankfully, someone, likely her uncle’s good friend Viscount Westerly again – the same man that might also be Harry father, unfortunately – had talked some sense into his old friend and convinced her uncle that a more cautious and measured approach such as the one Penny had suggested might be more useful.

Which was how Uncle Charles had come to hatch this particular version of his already harebrained scheme, one which required Penny to essentially prostitute herself to Lord Fullbridge under the guise of proving to him that she could be a good wife and eventually – but not too “eventually” of course – become his wife in truth.  After which, she would take all of his money, his heir, and leave him destitute and embarrassed.

Her uncle hadn’t been very clear on how she was to accomplish all of that, particularly those last few parts, but then, he was not a man known for his forward and clear-headed thinking.  Likely Uncle Charles didn’t even know how Penny was to accomplish the so-called “easy” parts of the task he had set before her, including her seduction of the duke.  All her uncle knew was that he wanted revenge against Lord Phineas Trew, the Duke of Fullbridge, however it happened to come about, with some specifics thrown in as a general guide for Penny to follow.  The rest?  Well, that was all up to her.

All her uncle cared about was the end result, which wasn’t going to be pretty – for anyone involved.

More than just revenge, Uncle Charles wished for Lord Fullbridge’s complete and utter ruin and, oh yes, embarrassment with a nice dollop of humiliation as well.  That was key, of course.  And not just any embarrassment, but rather an embarrassment that, according to Penny’s uncle, would haunt a good and moral man like Fullbridge for the rest of his life.  Uncle Charles was confident that his scheme would utterly destroy a man who prided himself of taking care of people, women in particular, and treating them like queens.  Especially a man like Phin Trew.

For Lord Fullbridge’s exemplary treatment of women was a very large part of his currently pristine and somewhat renowned reputation.  A reputation her uncle wanted to be torn to shreds, and then run over by a carriage and four for good measure.

Charles Marshwood wanted the duke to be saddled with a whore of a wife – again, that part fell squarely on Penny – who would become with child by another man.  Or at least pretend to be increasing with another man’s child.  Another man whose arms she would flee into after being abused by her brute of a husband, the duke.  The abuse would come from her uncle’s hands and not the duke’s, of course, but in the old earl’s mind, who administered the beating was of little consequence.  So long as the gossip sheets believed that Penny had come by her injuries at Fullbridge’s hands, that was all Penny’s uncle truly cared about.

Penny had never met Lord Fullbridge but she knew that no matter how awful he might be – and she suspected he really wasn’t that awful and was simply possibly unpleasant – he in no way deserved the madness and embarrassment that her uncle had planned for him. 

However, in the end, Penny would have no choice.  One way or another, she would have to trap Lord Fullbridge into bedding her, wedding her, and then?  Well then after that, the rest was too awful to contemplate.  As was the possibility that she might not locate Lord Fullbridge at all this Season, especially if the gossip she had overheard tonight was true.

What if the duke remained in the country and didn’t return to London for the rest of the Season?  His spring house party had been a failure, at least in part, or so the gossips claimed.  What if he chose to simply avoid Society and London completely until the Little Season arrived in the late fall?  What would she do then?

Penny had no idea and the very thought of failure made her sick to her stomach.  She was also so busy worrying about what would become of her if she failed that she hadn’t noticed the heat radiating from her normally frigid rooms until she was already inside and could see a fire burning brightly in the grate.  That meant someone was here.  Someone who wasn’t supposed to be.

Whirling around, Penny was half-afraid that she would see her uncle lurking about but to her relief, she was met by the sweet and kind face of Janie, her maid.

Blowing out a breath, Penny placed a hand over her racing heart as if that might stop the organ’s mad and frantic beating in her chest.

“Janie.  You scared me.  You shouldn’t be here.”  Really, the maid shouldn’t be.  Penny was terrified to think about what her uncle might do to both of them if he knew.  After all, he was only willing to pay for part-time servants.

To Penny’s surprise, the maid simply shrugged as if she didn’t care.  “Your bastard uncle can go to the devil for all I care.  The man is a miser and I’ll not leave you here another night on your own, miss!  It isn’t safe, especially not with thieves running about!”

Penny gulped.  “Thieves?”  Oh, Lord.  That was the last thing she needed.

“Thieves,” Janie confirmed as she motioned for Penny to turn around so she could begin undoing the tiny row of buttons down the back of Penny’s gown. “There are always thieves running about!  Me mam heard all about these new ones at Lady Mobridge’s yesterday.  Just two of them, but two is more than enough!”  With practiced ease, the maid slid the undone gown down and over Penny’s hips so that she could step out of it.  “She’s an upstairs maid there, you know.”

In a daze, Penny shook her head.  “I didn’t know.  But that still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“Because you’re alone and all of Lord Willfield’s servants know it and servants talk, especially those that aren’t paid well.  Like us.  As I said, your uncle is a right cheap bastard, just like his friend Lord Willfield.  Other servants elsewhere know that you’re here alone too, and the suspicion is that the thieves are houseboys from other Mayfair homes.  Makes you a right prime target.”  Janie said all of this as if it should have been obvious to Penny, and to a woman who truly lived in the rarified world of the ton, it might have been.  But it wasn’t to Penny.  Nor did she much care about thieves since she had nothing of real value to steal.

The more pressing concern is that others knew she was here alone.

“Other people…know?  That I’m here alone?”  Penny wasn’t an expert on Society matters, but even a fool knew that if anyone caught wind of the fact that Penny lived alone in a sparsely furnished town home with part-time servants, she would be ruined.  Or worse.  More than that, she would be cast out of Society and her uncle would never have his revenge against Lord Fullbridge, at least not from her.  She hated to imagine what would come after that.

Janie nodded primly.  “They do.  But not so many that would talk.  Still, you being here alone is dangerous.”

“But I have nothing to steal!”  Well, Penny did, but not much.  The jewels she wore weren’t even hers.  They were her uncle’s and she held no love for them, pretty as they were.  Not to mention that the house was practically empty.  If a thief or thieves could carry off one of the massive wardrobes scattered about bed chambers?  Then so much the better for them, she supposed.

The maid gave Penny a look that indicated that she believed the other woman to be a bit daft.  “They don’t just steal things.  At least that’s what the rumors say.”

Meaning they took people, too.  Janie didn’t have to say it; Penny knew.  She had skirted close enough to that life a time or two, and she wasn’t a fool.  She had heard the stories.  Plenty of them.

With the closure of The Golden Temple, a brothel that catered to the elite of the ton by providing them with fallen Society women for their pleasure, the previous year, other, far seedier places had taken the Temple’s place.  Those places needed women to service the men who darkened their doors, too.  Women like Penny who were just on the edges of Society, alone, vulnerable, and not likely to be missed at first when they vanished.  Assuming they were missed at all.

Janie had known this.  How could Penny not have?

Very easily.  She hadn’t been paying attention.

“I see.”  Turning, Penny took the maid’s hands in hers.  “Then thank you for coming back, Janie.  But if my uncle finds out…”

“Then he won’t, will he?” the maid replied tartly before she sighed.  “Might I speak freely, miss?”

“Of course.”

Janie shook her head.  “It’s not right what your uncle is doing, miss.  Leaving you here alone like you’re some kind of trollop or loose woman.  None of us think it’s right.  So I decided to do something about it and me mam agrees.  I refuse to leave you here alone.  Not again.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Penny insisted, resisting the strange impulse to hug the other woman.  “I am fine.”

“You’re not,” Janie countered as Penny’s stomach let out a loud growl.  “You’re hungry for one thing and you aren’t taking proper care of yourself.”  The maid held up a hand when Penny went to protest.  “I don’t know why you’re here or why you’re alone, my lady.  Whatever the reason is, it’s not my place to ask.  But it is my place to keep you safe while you’re under this roof.  I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.  I just couldn’t.”

Penny had no idea what to say and for a long time, she didn’t say anything.  Finally, she sighed.  “Thank you, Janie.  Truly.  You have no idea how much this means to me.”

The maid sniffed, clearly uncomfortable with Penny’s thanks.  “I’m just doing my job, miss.”  Crossing to the other side of the room, the maid quickly returned with a small plate of food.  “It’s just some meat and cheese, but I know you’re hungry.  It’s about all I can manage with what was left in the kitchens today.”

Penny was hungry.  So hungry that she felt almost faint.  After a lifetime in the country, keeping Town hours was difficult for her and she often went to bed hungry when she returned from a ball or other entertainment.  At those places, she typically found that she was far too nervous to eat much of anything, even refreshments were offered.  Not that they always were.  Penny had also discovered that Society frowned on “a true lady” eating more than a few bites of anything, no matter how hungry she might be.

This small repast, however humble, was all but worth its weight in gold just then.

“Thank you, Janie.  Again, I appreciate it.”  Quickly Penny scarfed down the ham and cheese and was even more pleased when Janie presented her with a small mug of ale.  After she had taken a long drink, she held up the mug.  “But how did you know?  Ladies don’t drink ale, or so I’m told.”

This time, the maid laughed a bit more loudly.  “Ah, my lady, while you might be of the Quality, there’s no mistaking that you grew up in the county and not here in London.  And what country lass doesn’t like her ale?”

“True enough,” Penny admitted with a rueful grin.  Her stomach now full and grateful not to be alone any longer, she sighed and sank down onto the bed, looking around the partially furnished room as she did so.

The furnishings here were of good quality, most of the items heavy antiques rather than more modern pieces.  The room was sparsely furnished but not completely empty as most of the rest of the house was.  She had a bed, a nightstand, dressing table, wardrobe, and washing area.  There was a separate sitting room with a comfortable chair and a small table, which was serviceable if not very elaborate.

Was this what her life was to be like after she seduced Lord Fullbridge, no matter the outcome?  Or would her life only become worse if she failed in her task?  Once more, the specter of Harry Greer loomed large before her and Penny sighed again, though she sounded more wistful than she had anticipated.

“Ah, I know that sound.”  Janie, who had been busy hanging up Penny’s gown, stopped her chores for a moment.  “You’ve met someone, haven’t you, miss?  Or would you prefer I not pry?  I know I’m overstepping horribly this evening.”

“It’s alright, Janie,” Penny assured her.  “And I did meet someone, though I know I should be wary of him for he’s not the someone I should be looking to snare for a husband.  Or at least that’s what my uncle says.”

“Who are you chasing, my lady?  Perhaps if I knew his name, I could help you.”  Penny could see that the maid was genuinely curious.

“Lord Fullbridge.”  She didn’t see the harm in revealing that much, and it wasn’t really as if it was a great secret.

Or wouldn’t be if she could ever find him and begin her pursuit.  Besides, this woman was in her uncle’s employ.  It was quite possible she already knew of her uncle’s plan.  Still, it would be wise of her to be cautious and not reveal too much.  Though giving the maid Fullbridge’s name likely wouldn’t hurt anything.  She just didn’t have to mention the whole “destroy the duke’s life” part of the plan

“That prat?”  The maid shook her head.  “There’s not a lady in London who wants him for a husband.  Oh, he doesn’t beat women or anything like that.  Treats them like glass, though, he does.  Any woman what marries him is in for a life stuck on a pedestal and being treated as if she might break.”

“Oh.”  Penny hadn’t known that about Fullbridge.  “Well, he is the man my uncle thinks I should wed, and has sent me here to, well, trap him into marriage, for lack of a better word.”  There was no real reason not to take the maid into her confidence, especially since she likely already knew the truth.  “I’ve yet to meet the man and my uncle swears no other gentleman will do, but tonight?  Well, I met someone else.  I’m just not certain if he is the right sort of gentleman.”

Actually, Penny wasn’t sure that Harry Greer was a gentleman at all.  Though Janie might know.

Janie snorted and resumed her task.  “If he’s a randy old lord, then I agree with your uncle for once, miss.  Men like that don’t follow the same rules the rest of us mere mortals do.”

“He’s not a peer,” Penny said quickly as she toyed with the belt on her dressing gown.  “Well, he’s the son of a peer, or so rumors say, but he’s not…”

“He’s a bastard then?”  Janie finished for her as she gave the lavender gown one final pat before moving on to store Penny’s jewels in their proper cases.

Penny shrugged and picked up the nightrail that Janie had laid out for her.  “I think so, but I’m not certain.”  She stripped out of her gown and pulled the garment over her head.  It was still chilly in here, despite the roaring fire.  Or maybe she was simply always cold these days.  “Actually, he’s a rather famous Bow Street Runner.  A Mr. Harry Greer.  Perhaps you’ve heard of him.”

In response, Janie let out a long, low whistle.  “Indeed, I have, miss and he’s something of a legend, he is.  Don’t know there’s a person in London what doesn’t know of him.”

“Go on.”   Not only was Penny intrigued now, but she was also elated.  Here was someone who could likely provide her with the real truth about the man who had set her body ablaze this evening while turning her brain into a pile of irrational fears at that same time.  “Is he a good man?”

Or did he toy with women the way most men in power did?  Was he toying with her?  Was she some kind of game to him?  And if she was, why?  Why did he care?

“All the papers say he’s the best sort of man, miss.”  Janie snapped one of the jewelry boxes closed.  “A gentleman to his core, but without a title.  They say he acts more like a nobleman than most of the nobility, a true feat considering he’s rumored to be close friends with the Bloody Duke.”  The maid shivered and crossed herself.  “That man scares me, he does, even though they say he’s a perfect lamb to his wife.”

Penny decided that the “they” Janie kept referring to were likely gossip rags.  Even in Cumbria, papers like The Town Tattler had eventually reached her little corner of the world.  Some of them had even contained the latest on-dits about one Mr. Harry Greer on occasion.

“So he’s not a nobleman but moves among them.”

“Friends with all of them,” the maid confirmed with a nod.  “But he should be a full part of their world.  Rumor had it his mam was a maid in Viscount Westerly’s house and the two were in love.  But he was married and his wife didn’t like him messing with the staff, if you take my meaning, even though she never allowed him into her own bed.  They say that when his wife fired his lover, the man turned mean and said his wife and his lover were conspiring against him or something just as wild.”  The maid shook her head.  “They say Mr. Greer was born five months after his mam left the Westerly house but the viscount refused to acknowledge him.  Mostly out of spite.  Ten months later, his wife finally gave birth to a daughter.  And has given the miserable old man nothing but daughters in the years since.  No heir.  Again, supposedly out of spite.”

So the rumors were true, or they most likely were.  Harry was the bastard son of a peer.  And he had connections.  In Penny’s opinion, that made him even more dangerous.  If he could move between both worlds with relative ease, he could find out her secrets far more easily than if he was merely confined to one world or the other – nobility or servant.

Damn her bad luck, anyway!

“That would explain his charm,” Penny admitted ruefully.  “Not to mention some of his comments.”

Janie laughed as she finished putting away Penny’s things.  “They say he can charm the birds right out of the trees, miss.  I’ve not been fortunate enough to meet him, but Anna, the scullery maid here has and she swears all the gossip is true.  Plus, he’s handsome to boot!”

Unbidden, a pair of vivid blue eyes flashed through Penny’s mind.  Harry’s eyes.  Eyes that saw more than she wanted them to see.  Eyes that looked deep into her soul and made her burn.

“He is handsome,” she agreed with the maid, “but he’s not for me.”

“He could be,” Janie countered with another shrug.  “If you don’t mind me saying, miss, the two of you seem much the same in many ways.  At least from what I know.”

Unfortunately, as Janie had spoken, Penny had come to the same conclusion.  Harry was very much like her.  Neither of them truly belonged to the world of the nobility but they were more than servants.  Rather, they were stuck somewhere in between.

All the more reason to avoid him, Penny supposed.  Before he became too curious about her.  Or too interested.  Even though the idea of kissing a man like Harry, or rather Harry himself, held far more appeal for her than it should have.

“Perhaps,” Penny finally said as she prepared to climb into bed, her body weary from dancing and sated now from having finally eaten.  “But that is for tomorrow.”  She was about to dismiss the maid but then remembered something that Harry had said earlier.  “Oh, Janie.  Do you know about the Gray Ladies?”

Once more, the maid beamed.  “Indeed, I do, miss.  I’m hoping to join their ranks soon.  I’m in training right now.”

“Could you possibly contact someone, maybe someone you know in Lord Berkshire’s household, and see if I might employ one?”  Penny sighed wearily.  Oh, how she wished to be done with this nonsense.  “If anyone finds out that I am here alone…”

“I’ll take care of it first thing tomorrow, miss,” Janie assured her as she started for the door.  “I know it’s none of my business, miss, as to why you’re here alone and all, but if you ever want to talk…”

Oh, how Penny wanted to take the maid up on her offer, but she didn’t dare.  It would be a relief to unburden herself, but she couldn’t take the chance.  What if Janie was working for Uncle Charles, despite what she had said?  That was a risk Penny couldn’t take, no matter how much she wanted to do so.

“Thank you, Janie,” Penny finally said, “but I’m fine.  I’m always fine.”

Except that Penny wasn’t always fine.  She was rarely fine.  She just couldn’t risk anyone learning that.  Especially not one Mr. Harry Greer.