Page 2 of Kiss Me Lady One More Time
“That is some sly thinking, Miss Munroe,” Mary said with admiration.
“Sly? I don’t think so. This honey is lovely. The taste is improved by the bees’ exposure to all of my mother’s many herbs, and the variety of her flowers and shrubs. Mrs. Thomkins will get a sample, along with a welcome to the neighborhood. If she wishes, she’ll get a good price on volume orders and you will get a fine opportunity for your fledgling enterprise.” She nodded with satisfaction. “Everyone gets what they want.”
They’d reached the Davies family’s cottage. Mrs. Davies welcomed them back. “I need ye to get your sister cleaned up before you start on that.” She nodded toward the basket while she hitched a toddler onto her hip. “She’s been in the creek again.”
“Will you bring me a jar from the first batch, first, Mary?” Penelope requested. “Thank you,” she said when her friend returned. She held it up to the light. “It looks as lovely as it tastes. I do think, though, that I will take it home and add a bit of ribbon and lace, as the first jar is meant to be a present.”
“Quite right, too,” Mrs. Davies nodded. “It’s only smart to dress something up, when you hope to move it. Which is why I want your best frock pressed and ready for church on Sunday,” she told Mary. “Mr. Bell mustn’t see you as anything but neat and tidy.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Mary’s shoulders drooped as she bid Penelope goodbye.
Oh, dear. Penelope tried to smile as she made her farewells, but she highly doubted Mary would win this battle of wills. Nor did she believe the girl would be happy if she did. While she knew Mrs. Davies had her daughter’s best interests at heart, she also suspected the woman would not be at all pleasant to live with, if her plans were thwarted.
Everyone gets what they want.
It wasn’t possible for everyone. Perhaps not for Mary. Perhaps not even for herself.
Penelope thought she knew what she wanted. Her pulse quickened again at the thought of Mr. Barrett Sterne. She’d met him several weeks ago, during a house party at nearby Greystone Park, when Lady Tensford had been kind enough to invite her take part in some of the activities. Penelope had been fascinated at her first meeting with the gentleman, and her admiration, excitement and longing had only grown with each encounter.
But Mr. Sterne had been struck and wounded at the ball on the last night of the party and she’d never had the chance to properly bid him goodbye. Now he was back, recovered, and according to Lady Tensford, raring to investigate the incident and the theft that happened along with it.
Penelope meant to offer him her assistance. First, because she felt a twinge of guilt at the thought that she might have distracted him that evening. And second, because she was determined that she would get a chance at what she wanted. She had a plan, and the first step was to see him again and make sure that what she wanted—was still him.
Arriving home, she found her father in his study, with his ledgers spread out upon the desk before him. He looked briefly up at her greeting and waved a hand before bending to his numbers again.
“You look terribly busy,” she said.
“I am. Lammas is coming and with it the presentations of wheat. You know I like to have the books in order before even the cross-quarter days.”
“Let me help,” she offered. “You know I understand the system. It will go quicker with two of us working.”
“No, no.” He waved her off again. “I don’t want to grow to depend on you, as you are aware. Not when it won’t last.”
She sighed. “Yes, I am aware, Papa.”
Her shoulders drooped a little as she closed the door. She found her mother indulging in a cup of tea and obeyed the summons to join her. They spoke of her mother’s morning’s work and of the pile of correspondence she had ready for Penelope to file. “No one manages to keep me organized as you do, dearest.”
“You taught me well. And it’s both soothing and efficient to stay organized.”
“True.” Her mother nodded, but she could not hide a frown. “I know we must find you a scientist to marry, Penelope, but it does irritate me to think of you organizing someone else’s papers as well as you do mine. In any case, the filing would have been done by now, if you’d come when I first called. Where have you been?”
“I told you my plans this morning, if you’ll remember. I’ve been at the hives with Mary Davies.”
“Oh, yes, I recall something of it, now.” She tilted her head. “Good heavens, are the two of you still at that project?”
“Yes, Mama. And I mean for Mary to continue on with it, indefinitely. Even when I’m gone from home, she should continue.”
“Mustshe? You know how I dislike having people about.”
Penelope knew how little her mother liked anything that might disrupt her work. “Mary will never bother you, Mama. She won’t come to the house or even any closer than that far clearing. It isn’t used for anything else and Papa only keeps fencing rails in the shed, there. Mary needs a bit of independence, poor girl.” She leaned forward to emphasize the killing blow. “And all of your plants are undoubtedly the better for having healthy, active hives about.”
“Oh, very well.” Her mother stood. “I’ll be in the second greenhouse this afternoon. Those lilies are still not doing well.”
Penelope filed the papers and went to her room. She sat and looked out over the lawns for a few moments, thinking. She was going to have to take matters into her own hands.
Resolute, she went downstairs in search of her mother’s maid. She must make Mary as steady as she could before she could fully address her own situation. She found the dresser in the servant’s hall and interrupted her stitching long enough to beg a scrap of fabric and ribbon to adorn the honey jar. Glancing at the sun, she decided she had enough time to make it to the village and back before dinner.
She didn’t dally, but set out briskly, a small basket on her arm, with a few of cook’s currant scones tucked in for good measure. Normally, she would stop and enjoy the vista on the bridge just before the village, but today she hurried on. She was nearly across when she heard a grunt and saw a hand reach up and grasp the top of the stone railing.
