Page 59 of The Rise of a Forsaken Lady
“That’s the thing,” she shook her head. “I don’t think I’ll ever marry him. I don’t even know why I’m allowing him to court me anyway. Perhaps I’m just humoring my brother.”
A struggle began to tug in Heath’s chest. He wanted to tell her everything, every secret resting on his chest about how he truly saw her and how he wanted to protect her from all the danger lingering around her, like almost invisible mist, hard to define but was still present. “You have to be careful.”
“About Hillbrook.”
And me. Reaching out, Heath slipped a hand around the back of her head and brushed his nose against her as her hand fluttered against his cheek. “I fear that if I start kissing you, I might never stop.”
Her breath was felt on his lips as he slowly ran them over hers and pulled back with deliberate control, “Goodnight, Penelope.”
She held his jaw for a moment, and he twisted his head to kiss her palm. She uttered a goodnight to him, and he stood and watched as she walked off. Halfway down the hall, she stopped, braced a hand on the wall and looked over her shoulder. He smiled softly and she nodded with her lips curving.
After her back disappeared around the corner, he let out a shuddering breath and went to close the windows. He braced his palms on the sill, hating himself for kissing her or the emotions for her tightening his chest in a ball.
This is too dangerous Heath…this goes against all protocol of your post. You cannot be falling in love with her.
Because that was truly what it was—he was falling in love with her. Pressing his face on the wall, Heath tried to remember that he was not supposed to fancy her. Unfortunately, his heart did not agree with his head, and he drifted to sleep later with her smile as the forefront of his mind.
Dawn came with him dressed, shaved and back on the floor to open the shutters and douse the lamps. His coal runs were repetitive, and he did them mechanically. He was about to pass by Lord’s Allerton’s study when the door opened and the two constables and the magistrate from before exited. He bowed and greeted them, offering to show them to the door, but they declined.
As they walked off, he wavered. Looking at the door, Heath dared to knock. “Come in.”
Lord Allerton’s voice was low and tight with tension. Entering, he spotted the Earl hunched over his desk with his hands scrubbing over his face. “My Lord?” he asked. “Do you need anything?”
With an audible sigh, the Earl pulled his hands away from his face. “A reset of the last month or so would be divine,” he said as he nudged a slip of paper toward Heath. It was a fragment of a paper, parchment and Heath frowned a little. What was that?
“It’s what the physicians pried from Shirlling’s body,” the Earl said tightly, “The bullet had not even gotten through the casing when he got shot.”
Spinning the fragment to his, Heath felt every drop of blood fall to his feet. In the corner of the fragment was a loopy insignia—a trademark—but on closer examination, it was very different from the one he had found in Hillbrook’s carriage.
“That is a sign of Böhn Family of Guns and Artillery,” The Earl grimaced. “It’s a German company and the chosen company my father preferred and loved for many years. I’m all clear for the hunt and any other activities for the time being but…but now they are investigating me for the viscount’s murder.”
Chapter 22
Buried in the current book on her lap, Penelope admirably tried to ignore the curling in her stomach when she remembered how tender Heath had been last night, but it still crept in. She did, however, resolutely ignore how bold she had been with kissing him first.
Not ladylike, her consciousness threatened to scold her, if she did pay attention to it. She preferred to think about how Heath’s eyes had glimmered with care and had gone sharp like shards of glass when he had spoken about his dislike for the Baron. She understood though and smiled.
His concern for her, how he had warned her about being in company with Hillbrook and his sort, had felt visceral. Like she could reach out and touch his concern.
There is something he is keeping from me, I know it and I can tell. He has the perfect stoic demeanor, but I have seen his mask slip once or twice to see under it. What is he not telling me?
“I know there is nothing that amusing in that book,” Martha said. “No one smiles when reading Shakespeare’sAntony and Cleopatra.”
She tried to school her emotions into a scowl but could not do so convincingly. Martha did not look amused at her attempt and lowered her eyebrows in expectations. “What is it?”
“Why do you think something is?” Penelope tried to deflect her maid’s attention.
“Because something is,” Martha said while coming closer. “What is it?”
Closing her book in defeat, Penelope sighed out. “I don’t think I can go on with letting Stephen…I mean Hillbrook, court me.”
“You what?” the dual appalled voices of Martha and Edward said, and Penelope flinched. She had only wanted Martha to hear that, but luck had not been on her side.
Looking to Martha she mouthed, “You’re excused.”
Martha was a blur through the door, only saying a quick greeting to the Earl before disappearing. Penelope sat up as Edward came closer, his brows thick and nearly meeting in the middle. He sat across from her, taking Martha’s abandoned seat and then placed his elbows on his knees. His eyes dug into hers.
“What’s this about Russell?” Edward asked tightly.
