Page 27 of The Rise of a Forsaken Lady
“Thank you, Mr. Moore,” Penelope said while reaching into her pearl-studded reticule for her fan. Which her nervous fingers promptly dropped.
She blushed as Mr. Moore fetched it for her and pressed it into her hand. “Er…my glove was slippery.”
The excuse was weak and by the slight smile on Mr. Moore, she knew he knew it. “Try to hold on tightly this time, My Lady.”
Ducking her head, she took Edward’s offered arm while Mr. Moore assisted Martha out.
Upon her entrance in the ballroom, Penelope marveled while Edward handed the invitation to the butler. The room was done in shades of white, bronze and dark-brown wood. They were announced, and Edward whisked her into the front room. Her eyes shot up to the line of ten large chandeliers, dripping with crystals and lit by gas.
A corner held a marble bust of a lady she did not know, but from the fresh flowers surrounding it, it must have been a loved family member. Muted silk wallpaper adorned its walls and reflected the lights up ahead.
They stopped briefly, exchanging pleasantries with the host and hostess, Lord and Lady Blackwood, who both wished them a good evening. They were not too far when another voice interrupted them.
“Allerton.”
She stilled as Edward greeted the other man. She kept silent as they spoke and observed the newcomer. His maroon waistcoat was perfectly fitted over his rotund belly and shrewd blue eyes rested under heavy brows.
“Not surprised to see you here, but I don’t think I have ever seen this lovely lady.”
The compliment was borderline inappropriate, and her brows furrowed as she wondered why he was comfortable taking such liberties when her brother cleared it up for her.
“Good evening, Your Grace,” Edward said reverently while removing his hand from hers and shook the Duke’s hand. “May I introduce my sister, Lady Penelope Dawson, Penelope, Oliver Stratham, the Duke of Quinton.”
She curtsied. “Pleased to meet you, Your Grace.”
“The pleasure is mine, My Lady,” the older man said with a regal bow. “Allerton, have you seen Hillbrook this night?”
Edward’s brows furrowed, “I have not…which is strange. He is usually the first to be at balls like this.”
“Unless he wants to make a majestic entrance,” Penelope said before she could censor her words. Instantly, her hand shot to her mouth while mortification colored her face.
Tact, Penelope! Drat! Where is your tact!
The Duke’s eyes were on her but instead of being laden with censure any lord would have given a clumsy comment coming from anyone—much worse a lady—they were amused. “Spoken like a true observer, Lady Penelope. He does have a flair for the dramatic.”
She was still embarrassed, “Even so, I apologize, Your Grace.”
“You don’t need to apologize for speaking the truth, Lady Penelope,” the Duke said before making his excuses and moving off.
Deliberately looking at everyone else except her brother, Penelope, scanned the people around her trying to remember half-familiar faces.
There was a lady with dark-auburn hair pinned into a lovely chignon and a simple ivory dress. Her mind rifled through memories of faces and names and lit upon one—one she shouldn’t have forgotten in the first place. But in her defense, the lady had changed from the slightly-pudgy woman in pieces of unflattering fabric to a slender woman in lovely silk.
“Isn’t that Lady Cheltenham…the one you were sweet on a few years ago?” she asked Edward. “She’s certainly…changed.”
Edward looked over to the lady and his cheeks pinked. “I had…in a past lifetime, yes.”
“Then, why didn’t you…” then she saw a man, with golden hair, take Lady Cheltenham's arm. “oh, who’s he?”
“Marquess Witherton,” Edward breathed out bitterly. “The son of Duke Rochford, a man with three times my wealth and as much influence over the rest of our peers. As I said, I did fancy her in another lifetime, but then I had to take over Father’s estates and I did not have much time. Besides, she—or her parents rather—had a vision for her that I cannot provide.”
There was not as much pain in his voice as regret. Was it that her brother was still in love with her, but seeing his competition, had given in easily? Since when had her brother become a coward?
“Eddi—Edward,” she corrected herself, “did you even try? If I remember right, she was smitten with you too.”
Her brother’s jaw stiffened, “I won’t speak about this anymore, Penelope. Come along now.”
Shooting a look over her shoulder to the lady, Penelope saw her look up to them with a particular disappointed look before she went back to the Marquess.
