Page 93 of Nothing But a Rakehell
“Let us raise our glasses,” Tensford called. “Sterne will recover quickly, thank goodness. And while it seems I have lost a fossil, I have gained a brother-in-law—who also happens to be one of my best friends.” He smiled down at his wife. “I am the most fortunate of men.”
“I beg to differ,” Keswick objected. And with a wicked grin, he bent to kiss his betrothed.
Epilogue
“Here, my darling. I’ve made a copy of the younglavandula angustifoliafor Lady Tensford. Will you give it to her, the next time you visit at Greystone?”
“Yes, Mama.” Penelope Munroe knew better than to compliment the artistry of the botanical drawing her mother handed her, even though it was quite beautifully done. She’d suffered enough lectures on the importance of technique, exacting detail and scientific documentation over beauty. Still, privately, she marveled over her mother’s talent.
“And will you remind her, please, that I would like a mature specimen in bloom when she has one, so that I may capture the complete record of the plant?”
“I will, Mama.”
“I suppose she’s had too much on her mind to remember,” her mother sighed. “She must be so glad to be done with the fuss and bother of the wedding.”
Fuss and bother described anything that drew her mother’s attention away from her work.
“Although, to be fair, I find myself glad that you and your father convinced me to attend the affair,” her mother conceded.
Penelope blinked in surprise.
“The crowd was horrid, of course, but even my scientific fellows have heard the gossip surrounding the event. Several have included questions about it in their latest letters. I’ve answered and assured them that the rumors are true. The couple did wed under a flower-bedecked bower in a field by a river.” She shook her hand and stretched her fingers. “I’ve included descriptions and images of the local flora used, in each of my responses.”
“That was kind of you.”
“What is the scientific name of the autumn gentian?” her mother asked suddenly.
“Gentianella amarella.” Penelope was used to her mother springing random test questions at her.
“Very good. They were attractive, I admit.” She sighed. “Most of the questions, however, were about the horse. None of them could fathom a bride arriving alone on horseback andridingdown the aisle, makeshift though it was.”
“I thought it was lovely—and very fitting for Glory, of course. She was practically glowing, all through the day.”
“Yes, well, thank goodness you are not horse-mad or prone to other such peculiarities.”
“I don’t think my interest in the natural sciences is considered normal, Mama.”
“Poppycock,” her mother declared. “It is the modern age and you have a fine mind. It would be unnatural to waste it. It should not be considered strange to take advantage of it. It is time women gave their intellects the same attention as they do their wardrobes. We have a duty to show them how to do so.”
“Yes, Mama.” She was very familiar with her mother’s views.
“In any case, doubtless Lady Tensford is happy to get back to her own duties, now that all of her guests have departed at last. Heaven knows I was relieved when your cousins all went home.”
“I do believe she is looking forward to Glory and her new husband returning to the neighborhood, at least,” Penelope replied. “I had a letter from Glory, and she is vastly enjoying their bridal journey. Ireland is beautiful, she says, and there are plenty of horses and stud farms for them to visit, but they will be coming back to Roudley Farm before too long. They mean to stay here for some time, at least for part of the year, to get their own horse breeding program started.” She took a breath, reaching for a relaxed tone. “Also, I did hear that at least one guest has returned to Greystone.”
“So soon?” her mother said with disapproval.
“Yes. Mr. Sterne is back.” And it took all of her considerable willpower not to let show the fluttering of her heart or the anticipatory shiver of her spine. But the very last thing she wanted was for her mother to get a hint of her interest in the gentleman. “I believe he feels it is his duty to discover who it was who struck him down and how they disappeared so quickly with that very large fossil.”
“Why should he?”
“It was under his care when it disappeared.” Penelope swallowed. She suspected it was partially her fault—and that she had distracted Mr. Sterne from his vigilance. “He feels responsible.”
“It is good of him to help, then, I suppose. I do know Tensford is distraught at the loss of it.”
“I thought I would offer to help them in their investigation—at least while they are looking at things locally.”
“Why?” her mother asked in surprise.
