Page 13 of The Rise of a Forsaken Lady
Health politely cleared his throat to get his attention and Lord Allerton spun around to see the meal served.
“Thank you,” he sat heavily and taking up his utensils. “Mr. Moore, can you please go check on Lady Penelope for me? She tends to get absentminded sometimes and wanders off.”
He fleetingly wondered why the Lord would not go see his sister himself but did not question it. “Yes, My Lord.”
Health exited through a French door leading to the garden. In the center, a maze of hedges was laid out waiting to be explored. Heath passed through rows of meticulously-planted flowers at the entrance. He followed the trail of Lady Penelope’s footsteps left on the carefully-raked gravel.
She stopped in the middle of the maze, sitting on the wooden bench with her back turned to him. He found her focused on a swarm of butterflies fluttering in a patch of flowers. Her profile was fit for a portrait if Heath could paint. Her legs were folded to the side and her hair was in a long braid draped over her shoulder, but it was the look on her face that sparked his compassion. Her brow was laced in pain.
“Edward, I don’t want to go to this ball,” she said without even looking over her shoulder.
“I am not Lord Allerton,” he said quietly.
She spun and her lips parted a bit before red raced up her neck and cheeks. “Er, I am sorry, Mr. Moore. I thought you were my hardheaded brother.”
He stood with his arms clasped behind him. The silence was not stifled, but it was not easy either. Lady Penelope eyed him, “You are a quiet one, aren’t you?”
“I have never been overly talkative,” Heath replied.
She snickered, “That does not answer my question. Being overly talkative is not equal to talking overall.”
“I will concede to that,” Heath replied. “As I do prefer to observe than anything else.”
Lady Penelope shifted on her chair, “Why did he send you to me?”
“In his words, My Lady, he said you tend to be a bit absentminded,” Heath replied as he admired how she constantly brushed her tendrils back from the blowing wind.
Her nose wrinkled, “Mr. Moore, I might have to give you prior warning about my brother and me. We don’t exactly see eye-to-eye…on many—many—matters. Like this ball, he is throwing for Lord Hillbrook. I hate these things, and he knows it, but he insists on throwing them and tossing me into the middle of the fray.”
Heath knew it was not proper for her to divulge all this upon him but then felt it inappropriate for him to stop her either.
“And then he is going to invite all these snooty colleagues of his and Lord Hillbrook. And if he is not irritating enough, Lord Hillbrook has these friends that make my skin crawl, like Lord Swanville. Ugh…” she shuddered, “that man is like a snake slithering through the mud.”
“What is so repugnant about Lord Swanville?” Heath asked.
She looked at him with widened eyes, as if wondering how he could not know who the man was. “Lord Swanville is a known devotee of Napoleon. Everyone in England—and probably half of Europe—knows how sympathetic the man was to the disposed emperor. He’s made no qualms about hiding it.”
Heath nodded, “I can see how that might rub with the traditionalist-minded amongst you.”
“Yes. On this half of the continent, he is the leading supporter of Bonaparte,” Penelope grimaced. “It is not unknown that some peers are known supporters of Napoleon. They can voice their backing of the emperor to their heart's content as speech is free, but I am thinking that it is only when they begin conspiring to send the man shipments of arms or plans to escape his exile, that the Crown’s blind eye will suddenly narrow.”
Heath blinked. “Does Lord Allerton not understand your aversion to Lord Swanville?”
“Oh, he knows,” Lady Penelope snorted. “He just does not care much that way.”
This was a difficult position for him to be in, but he did not shy away from it. The best he could do was tread carefully. “I am sure that despite it all, His Lordship only wants the best for you.”
She shifted on her seat and looked squarely at him. “I’d like to think so too.”
The silence from before came back with a softer tone. Heath was not going to move until she did or speak until she did. By the deep furrow in the middle of her brow, she was deep in contemplation. She then looked up and the sun highlighted the sprinkle of freckles across her nose, juxtaposed against her fair skin.
“I suppose we should go back,” she sighed deeply and scuffed her right foot against the ground. “I am sorry for dragging you into our muddle.”
Naturally, he held out his hand to her and a small surprise lit her honey-golden eyes before she reached out and took it. Her touch was not as soft as ladies should be, but then again, gripping reins for over ten years could do that to once-tender skin. The warmth of it ran through his hand as he helped her up. As she was on her feet, he dropped her hand and gestured for her to go ahead.
“Please,” he said before folding his arms behind his back.
He accompanied her back to the home and closed the French doors behind him. A man of national and international interest was going to be in the Earl’s home just as he had sworn to keep them all safe. That night was going to be interesting.
