Page 42 of The Rise of a Forsaken Lady
Lord Hillbrook was so much different than she had taken him for, and it was beginning to show. She softly castigated herself for sticking to the single side of him she had thought was the only side of him, the cocky mischievous one. She felt like apologizing again but felt that she had done that enough.
“I learned archery at Oxford,” the Baron added. “Studied German but failed at it, took a trip to India for a month but the climate did not agree with me, and then went to Scotland for a while but the haggis there did not agree with me either.”
“India!” She latched on that word and smiled. “What was it like?”
Lord Hillbrook then launched into a tale how his friend had taken him to a local Maharaja’s court and how touching a towering elephant’s tusk had nearly terrified him to death thinking the huge beast might have skewered him in half. Penelope was engrossed, hanging on every word he spoke. She was so invested that she barely realized they had returned home.
When the door opened, Lord Hillbrook alighted first and helped her out. Mr. Moore was the one who helped a silent Martha out and they both stood aside when the Baron pulled a box from his coat.
Penelope’s eyes darted from the box to the Baron. “What is that?”
“That Maharaja gave me a few gifts from his possessions,” Lord Hillbrook said while opening the box and pulling out a necklace. It was a simple string, but dangling at the end was a glittering ivory elephant with a simple blue jewel as its lone eye. “Elephants are sacred in the subcontinent. They are revered for their strength and gentleness. If I could think of anyone who is like that majestic animal, it is you Lady Penelope.”
She reached over and took the trinket from its velvet bed. She laid the small carved elephant in the middle of her palm and smiled. “It’s wonderful, thank you.”
He them took the necklace from her hands and placed it over her neck. The white pendant rested on her breast and was a lovely contrast to her deep blue dress. She glanced down and fingered it while her breath caught in her throat. This was not what she had expected from the Lord.
“Good evening, Lady Penelope,” Lord Hillbrook said.
Looking up she smiled, and her voice was tender, “Good evening…S—My Lord.”
She had tried to say his name, but it cut itself off halfway up her throat. It still felt abnormal to say.
Penelope stood there, waving with one hand and fingering the tiny carving with the other as the Baron drove away. She smiled but the emotion nearly evaporated from her breast when she saw the look on Mr. Moore’s face. His face was dark and glowering and his eyes were flashing with anger before his eyes darted to her and his face suddenly went to that stoic blankness.
She blinked and wondered if she had seen it all. “I think we should go inside,” she said.
Mr. Moore went to open the door and her mouth opened to ask him what that look was for but realized it was not the time, and it was certainly not the place. So, with her curiosities and doubts raging half-and-half inside her, she allowed herself to enter the room, gave Mr. Moore a thank you and took Martha’s hand, tugging her up to her rooms.
Safely inside, she shut the door and sat heavily on the nearest chair. Her head was in her hands and she knew the picture she was painting was confusing Martha.
“My Lady?”
“Did you see his face?” she asked.
“I did,” Martha said with disbelief in her voice. “I do not think I have ever seen Lord Hillbrook so happy or delighted before.”
Penelope shook her head, “Not him, Martha. I mean Mr. Moore. Did you see his face after St—ugh, Lord Hillbrook gave me the pendant?”
“So, it’s nearly Stephen now?” Martha teased. “Not Lord Hillbrook anymore?”
She groaned, “He will stay Lord Hillbrook as long as I can manage it, but focus Martha, please.” Getting up from her chair, Penelope began to pace. “I know that he does not like Hillbrook because I told him that I did not but…that look, there is something else there that I cannot fathom. He looked like he wanted to throw Hillbrook into the deepest pit of hell’s fire.”
“Oh…” Now it was Martha’s time to blink. “I cannot say I did, My Lady. He seemed the same to me.”
Of course, he did, he always does.
Huffing out a breath through puffed-out cheeks, “I suppose I will just have to ask him directly.”
“But…” Martha hedged, “Lord Hillbrook. He was certainly different today.”
“Yes, he was,” Penelope added thoughtfully. “It’s almost as if he was a different person than the one I knew.”
“I agree,” Martha said.
Silently, Penelope reached up and fingered the elephant pendant. The ivory was smooth to her touch and the only rough touch she felt was the edge of the faceted gem in the elephant’s eye. The sapphire stone made a dent in her finger as she had pressed it against her thumb. “I wonder what changed.”
“Do you think that maybe he had been waiting for you, My Lady?” Martha asked.
