Page 19 of The Rise of a Forsaken Lady
He strode to the kitchen where the staff, still visibly shaken, were moving mechanically to find some way to store the uneaten food. He found the cook and asked her to make a pot of tea for Lady Penelope as quickly as she could.
Mrs. Burcham did even say a word but put the kettle on. The water did not take much time to heat and the tray with the teapot and cup and tiny bowls of sugar and milk were added.
“Thank you,” Heath said as he took the tea to the sitting room where Lady Penelope was.
He entered to see Lady Penelope, Miss Bell there sitting, while Lord Allerton was pacing. All three had mirroring grimaces on their faces. He settled the tray before Lady Penelope whose lips attempted to smile but failed halfway. She poured a cup and cradled it to her face while the Earl paced.
Suddenly he stopped, shaken and angry. “I cannot help but think that shot was for me.”
Lady Penelope frowned, “Why would you think that?”
He waved his hands around, “I was with him in the garden, Penelope, and you must remember that Father was a highly-respected and sometimes reviled member of Parliament. Silent enemies have long—long—memories.”
“But why you?” Lady Penelope pressed. “What have you done to get someone to go after your head?”
“I do not have to do a thing,” Lord Allerton said seriously. “In any blackguard’s eyes, my death would be the payment for something Father did. Which is why, sister dear, I am making sure that you be guarded at all times until I can find out who killed the Viscount.”
He then turned to Heath, and his intention was known to the footman before it was even said, “Mr. Moore, from now on until we have this matter resolved, you are to guard Lady Penelope.”
She squawked, but Heath nodded, “Yes, My Lord.”
“Edward!” she said sitting up, “Is this needed?”
“Penelope,” the Earl said gravely, “being careless with our lives is no laughing matter. I will not take any objections to this. I will protect your life and I trust that you will take every precaution to save it as well, which means no rash actions.”
“But a guard?” she said and when she realized the tone she had spoken in, one laced with incredulity, she blushed and shot a repentant look to Heath. “I am sorry Mr. Moore, as I have the greatest respect for you, but I do not think to be under lock and key for an unknown amount of time is fair to you.”
The Earl snorted callously, “Please, do not abuse your own sensibilities, sister. You do not go anywhere, you sit here like an ornament on the shelf, or sit on the chaise lounge like a pillow, so what is the problem?”
Lady Penelope’s face was like one who had just gotten slapped across one’s face, and Heath winced. The Earl’s words were like bullets, and each one had landed squarely in the middle of the lady’s chest. Lord Allerton’s eyes widened as he realized what he had said, and before he could offer the apology brimming on his tongue, Lady Penelope spun on her heel and walked out.
The Earl pressed his hand to his eyes, and Miss Bell sat there clearly uncomfortable. Heath took the matter into his hands. “If you don’t mind, My Lord, may I speak to her?”
He was waved off with permission and Heath was out in the next moment. He did stop to take the still-warm cup of tea and then took to the direction Lady Penelope had gone.
But will she listen to me instead of her brother?
Chapter 8
Angry, mortified and eyes stinging, Penelope left the sitting room with tears brimming under her eyes. The words her brother had said stung fiercer than a sudden barrage from a full swarm of a hornet’s nest.
She had never seen her removal from the social life so acutely before. Edward’s words had dug deep and unearthed all the insecurities she had tried to cover. The worst part…he was right and it pained to know he was right.
Penelope found herself in an old room that held an unused pianoforte and other musical instruments, and she sat on the stiff wingback chair whose previously undisturbed seat squeaked with her weight. She both needed and hated the silence around her.
You do not go anywhere, you sit here like an ornament on the shelf, or sit on the chaise lounge like a pillow, so what is the problem?”
Whatwasthe problem, truly? Why did she not go anywhere? Why could she not remember what the inside of an assembly room looked like without the edges going fuzzy? Why did she not have any friends? Most ladies her age would have had a few lady friends around her, but she had none. Others would have been married, she had no husband or even a suitor.
The realizations were like bitter medicine, but that did not give her brother any right to shatter the thin illusion of happiness she had created for herself.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and twisted her hands in her lap. Her nails were uneven and bitten, the pads of her fingers were rough, and her palms were callused. Her touch was not buttery soft like any other woman, her mind was not bent to fashion and flowers nor was it focused on rings or roses.
“What a lovely lady I am…” she scoffed scornfully to the dark air.
Leaning back in the chair, Penelope closed her eyes and tried to ignore the presence she felt at the doorway but could not.
Without even opening her eyes she said, “Come in.”
