Page 15 of Scales and Sensibility
Elinor forced her breathing to remain steady as she watched Benedict Hawkins absorb the news. Different emotions chased themselves across his face…but he ended up shaking his head with a wry half-smile.
“She did say she knew Miss Hathergill,” he murmured. “I suppose I understand, now, why she didn’t share any further details.”
It shouldn’t matter what he thought of her. Itdidn’t. After all, Elinor would never see him again after today. And yet...
“Perhaps there is more to the story than you’ve yet heard, Sir John,” she said. “You weren’t in the house yourself yesterday, were you?”
“No,” he said, “but—I say, how did you come to know that?”
Elinor shrugged lightly with her less-burdened shoulder, while Sir Jessamyn quivered against her hair. “You would hardly have waited so long to chase her down if you had been at home when this supposedly occurred.”
“True enough.” He sighed. “It was the first thing I heard about when I arrived home, though. I can assure you of that. Before I even washed off my dust, I had the whole story from my daughter, so you may trust that I haveallthe facts in hand.”
Elinor raised her eyebrows. “Is there no other side to the story but Penelope’s?”
“How could there be?” Sir John snorted. “No, that wretch walked off with the dragon, all right, and she couldn’t have had any intention but to sell it. There’s no other reason for her to have stolen it—well, except to hurt my daughter, that is. Penelope says she was always perishingly jealous and showed it with all sorts of ill-tempered remarks. We’re well rid of her from our household.” Sir John took a long swig of his ale and squared his shoulders. “All the same, I’ll have to spend the rest of the day chasing after her now to see justice done—she must be halfway to London by now, thinking to live high off the profits from her crime.”
Elinor’s fingers tightened around the skirts of her dress. “Perhaps you should simply let her go. She can’t be worth such exertions on your part, surely.”
“I’d rather not do much more traveling,” he admitted. “But if you imagine my daughter will ever let her go…” He shuddered. “If you only knew how upset this has made Penelope…”
“You may not catch up with her at all,” said Benedict Hawkins. “If she hasn’t gone to London—”
“Where elsecouldshe go? There’s nowhere else big enough for her to make that kind of sale and then vanish. She don’t have any other family left but her sisters, andtheycan’t take her in—but I suppose I’ll have to see about them now, too. I’ll write tonight to those poor fools who took the other girls in, to warn them oftheirdanger.” He shook his head dolefully. “They ought to know to expect Miss Elinor on their doorsteps—and more than that, as one sister’s turned out to be a thief, it’s only fair that I warn ’em not to trust either of the others.”
Elinor’s throat tightened. “Surely that can’t be necessary.”
“Ha! If you think Penelope will ever let me rest without seeing justice done—”
“Perhapswe can give Penelope something better to think about,” Elinor said swiftly. “I hear she plans to début soon?”
His big shoulders slumped. “In just five days. But with that dragon gone and no time to order up a new one for her—”
“I think you had better forget the dragon entirely.” Elinor listened to her own words with disbelief. How was her voice remaining so calm?But then, it wasn’thervoice at all…and that would have to make all the difference from now on. “A dragon won’t be necessary for Penelope, I assure you. She will have something far better on her side.”
Her uncle frowned. “What could be more fashionable than a dragon at my daughter’s début ball?”
Benedict Hawkins’s frowning gaze rested on Elinor’s face. Sir Jessamyn shivered against her shoulder, still hiding his own face from Sir John.
Elinor thought longingly of the door handle and of freedom, still close enough to touch.Think of Rose, she told herself.Think of Harry.
She lifted her chin. “Penelope will haveme,” she said coolly. “You’re in luck, Sir John. On the condition that you abandon these tedious and petty schemes of revenge—which are far too vulgar for me to associate with in any fashion—I believe Ishallcondescend to visit your family after all. What could ever be better than that?”
Chapter 7
“You will?” Sir John surged towards her, his face breaking into a wide smile. “Oh, you won’t regret it, ma’am, I promise you won’t. You do us too much honor—indeed you do—but you shall enjoy every moment of your stay. Mrs. De Lacey—by Gad, ma’am, I could kiss your hand for what you’ve done for me today!”
Thus warned, Elinor swiftly clasped her hands behind her back. “Indeed,” she said coolly, “we could hardly allow poor Penelope to suffer. But I expect you to escort me to Hathergill Hall yourself, Sir John, with no more nonsense about chasing errant nieces about the country or pursuing some sort of Gothic revenge upon their sisters.”
“No, ma’am, of course not, if you don’t like it. Certainly not.” He pulled out his handkerchief and mopped his shining forehead. “Even Penelope couldn’t…that is, you’ve done me an immense favor, Mrs. De Lacey, and I know it.”
“Indeed,” said Elinor, and tried in vain to determine whether hysterical laughter or a scream most wanted to escape in response to all of it.
“Ah…” Benedict Hawkins cleared his own throat.
With true relief, she turned to where he stood by the table. “You had something to say, Mr. Hawkins?”
He nodded, making a rueful face as he stepped forward. “Sir John, Ihadhoped to meet you in more fortuitous circumstances, but...I must tell you, I had indeed hoped to meet you today. It was the very purpose of my travel here.”
