Page 10 of Kiss Me Lady One More Time
Chapter 3
Her mouth open, Penelope watched Mr. Sterne withdraw from her—this time in the physical sense. A horrifying thought rose up—what if she’d been wrong? Her heart pounded and a mortified heat rose up and out of her chest. Had she been acting a fool?
But she calmed, after a moment. No. She was not wrong. She had not mistaken the connection between them. It rolled over them both when they came together—a vast ocean of potential. She felt it. He did, as well. But for some reason, it spooked him.
She heaved a sigh. This was all rather more complicated than she’d expected. But everything she could imagine rising from that bond—it was worth fighting for.
Setting her shoulders, she gave the smallest snap of the reins and sent her mare, Luna, forward at a swifter pace.
She didn’t slow until she approached the lane that led to Mr. Stillwater’s home. His estate did not have the same vast acreage as Greystone Park, or even of her father’s holdings, but it was a respectable amount of land and the manor house looked well kept, and the gardens were known for being immaculate and lovely. It was easy to see why. She passed two separate groups of gardeners at work as she drove up the long, shaded lane. They all stared at her in surprise as she swept by, although a few tugged their forelocks at her nod.
The lane emptied into a graveled drive that circled at the front of the house. Instead of the usual fountain, the center hosted a small topiary garden. She could see geometric shapes, an arch and what might be an elephant, surrounded by flowering shrubs and plants.
She admired it for a moment while she waited for someone to greet her. No one came, though, from either house or stable.
With a shrug, she hopped down and secured Luna to a post. Hefting the satchel over her shoulder, she contemplated the front door for a moment, then turned and walked around the house, searching out the servant’s entrance.
The scullery who opened the door clearly had no idea what to do about her.
“Ah . . . Miss? That is, yes, Miss? Can I help you?”
“Good morning. Please, don’t worry,” Penelope told her. “I am only here to see Mrs. Williams.”
She eased past the girl and headed for the kitchens. Mr. Stillwater’s cook looked up in surprise when she entered her domain. Mrs. Williams was a cousin to Mrs. Bromond, the housekeeper in her own home. Their relationship had led to a familiarity and friendliness between the household staff members, one that devolved to rivalry when the village fairs came along.
“Miss Munroe!” the cook exclaimed. “What are ye—” Her face blanched. “Is it Molly? Is she—”
“No! Nothing of the sort,” Penelope hurried to assure her. “Mrs. Bromond is fine! I only came because she mentioned that the joints in your feet have been bothering you more than usual.”
“Oh, thank goodness. Ye frightened the wits out o’ me for a moment there. Come and sit and I’ll pour ye a cup o’ tea.” She settled Penelope at the massive kitchen table and bustled about with a tray and kettle.
“I’ve been working with Lady Tensford on her project. She’s made some lavender scented camphor ointment that I thought might help your poor feet.”
“Ah, are ye not the thoughtful one? Ye should not bother with an old woman’s nonsense, but aye, my feet do ache something fierce at the end of the day. It’s all these years standing and cooking on flagstone floors, taking their toll.”
The cook set the tea tray and a plate of cherry cobbler on the table and took up the jar. Carefully uncorking it, she sniffed. “Oh, and doesn’t the lavender improve the smell! I’ll be happy indeed to use this tonight. Thank ye, Miss Munroe.”
“Yes, well, I hope it helps.” Penelope eyed the second cup on the tray with relief. “Do you have time to sit for a moment and join me?”
“Hanged if I won’t make the time.” Mrs. Williams gave her assistant a look and the girl scurried out. Bringing a plate of cobbler for herself, she sat with a sigh as Penelope poured her tea. “Thank ye, Miss. I confess, we’re so isolated here, I’m happy to sit for a nice cuppa and a bit of gossip about what’s happening in the village.”
“I’m afraid to disappoint you. It’s as quiet as ever.”
“Well, after the excitement of Lady Glory’s wedding, I suppose we were due for a dry spell. Is there word when she and that earl of hers will be back to start in on the Roudley place?”
“None so far. I suspect Glory will wish to inspect every horse farm in Ireland before they return home.”
Mrs. Williams chuckled. “I would imagine Lord Keswick will keep her from going entirely horse mad.” She eyed Penelope as she took a long drink of tea. “And forgive my impudence, but when are ye going to find a man o’ your own? A pretty, young girl like ye, with such a sweet way about ye. The gentlemen should be trailing at your feet.”
“That does sound as if it would be a nuisance,” Penelope laughed. “But either way, there seems to be a scarcity of single, young gentlemen about.”
“Perhaps ye should go up to London.” Mrs. Williams nodded sagely. “I know it’s not the high Season, but ye could go up, get familiar with the ways and the lay o’ the land, and get a jump on all those young girls that will flock there in the spring.” She shrugged. “It’s late enough in the summer, the heat will start to break up. And it surely must not be devoid of all entertainment, or I could not see our master risk missing his harvest to spend any time there.”
“Your master? Mr. Stillwater?”
“Who else?”
“He’s in London?”
