Page 21 of Scales and Sensibility
It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since she had escaped.
Was it her imagination, or had a curtain just fluttered at the front of the house? Penelope always did like to know which visitors were arriving.
Elinor took a deep breath as her heart began to race frantically behind her chest. She had always pitied the red foxes who were mercilessly run to their deaths by her uncle and his friends. But she had never felt so much empathy for their situation...and she was about to walk voluntarily into her own hunters’ home.
Her fingers twisted painfully together in her lap as her breath shortened.
Rose, she reminded herself.Harry.
And then:Mrs. De Lacey.
Her spine stiffened. Her chin lifted.
No one called Mrs. De Lacey helpless prey.No one!
“Excellent.” Elinor’s smile felt as jagged as an icicle waiting to fall and shatter to the ground. “I can hardly wait to get started.”
Chapter 9
Elinor might have imagined that first curtain-flutter from Hathergill Hall, but she couldn’t have missed the second one as Sir John flung the carriage door wide. She didn’t miss the flash of golden curls behind curtain, either...and it made her stomach clench with visceral dread.
She’d stepped out of another carriage in this spot six months earlier, still weary with grief and desperately missing her sisters but also brimming with a naïve, foolish hope. She had been so determined to make herself a new home. She’d imagined that she might be welcomed—even liked—by her extended family once they came to know her.
You’re not the despised poor relation anymore, she reminded herself.As Mrs. DeLacey, you’re the one Penelope ought to fear.
It was more than difficult to believe—but at least she didn’t have to suffer long in anticipation. The front door of Hathergill Hall was already opening as Elinor started down the carriage steps, steadfastly refusing Sir John’s offers of assistance. Penelope, still tying her china-blue bonnet ribbons under her chin, started out of the house—then jumped back, one hand flying to her mouth in theatrical astonishment.
“Oh my goodness! Papa, I had no idea you were already back. And with visitors!”
“I am indeed.” Sir John puffed himself up with delight. “Caught you on your way out for a morning constitutional, have we, pet?”
She smiled enchantingly, peeping out from under the broad brim of her bonnet like a naughty angel. “The weather issolovely, I simply couldn’t help myself. You know how I dote upon nature!”
…And yet Penelope, Elinor noted, wasn’t wearing a walking dress or even outdoor shoes. If so much as a speck of dirt smudged those pink silk slippers—newly ordered from London—she was certain to throw a royal fit.
Had anyone else noticed?
Apparently not.Sir John was beaming down at his daughter on the drive, Aubrey was muttering to himself in the carriage as he selected the three or four bucket-loads of papers that absolutelyhadto be carried in his own hands to the house, and Mr. Hawkins…
…Benedict Hawkins was standing at the top of the carriage steps, gazing wide-eyed at Penelope, as if caught in a trance.
Elinor bit down hard on the inside of her cheek as she turned away.Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could she be disappointed? Gentlemen always looked at Penelope that way, even when she wasn’t smiling in the sunshine, golden hair glinting beneath her bonnet. As Elinor looked from Mr. Hawkins to Penelope, all the smothering despair and suffocation of the past six months sank once more across her shoulders with a crushing weight.
Had she actually forgotten, even for an instant, the kind of contrast that she and her cousin always formed? Of course he’d believe anything that Penelope said about her from now on.
She took a step backward without even realizing it. As Sir Jessamyn scrabbled to hide his face behind her head, her own chin sank down. Her eyes lowered, too, forming the image of invisibility and perfect submission that she’d learned to perfect during the last several months. No one ever wanted to look at heror be reminded of her existence…and when she was with Penelope, she was never allowed to forget that.
This time, though, Sir John gestured her forward, clearing his throat portentously. “Now, then, Penelope! Can you guess who I’ve brought you?”
The words brought Elinor to her senses with a snap. Sir Jessamyn was shivering against her neck. She swung her chin up and her shoulders back, desperately sweeping up the cloak of Mrs. De Lacey-ness around her.
Mrs. De Lacey wouldn’t be intimidated by Penelope. Mrs. De Lacey knewherselfto be the most interesting woman in any room.
Elinor raised her eyebrows into an arch of haughty expectation and willed Sir Jessamyn not to lose control all over her.Not this time!
Penelope had looked straight past her when they’d first arrived, of course, because Penelope was never interested in other ladies, especially older ladies, when there were gentlemen about. Now, though, at her father’s words, she turned with a pretty, expectant smile. It lasted only a moment.
Then her eyes widened. “Papa! It isn’t—you can’t mean to say—”
