Page 32 of The Marquess's Final Fling
“They love you.”
“No, they don’t, Theo. They appreciate a woman who has something more to say than complaints about her dressmaker.”
“Come with me to the theater tonight.”
“I dine with the Devereaux.”
“I must invite myself then.”
“A habit of yours?”
“It has worked for me in the past.”
The next morning, angry at his failure to move her, he went to Doctor’s Commons and applied to the Archbishop for a special license. He grew tired of taking no for an answer.
Chapter 10
The next Wednesday, she could not leave her bed. With a disappointment that she would not be able to banter with Theo today, she laid down again. For the next few days, she felt better, then not.
The following Wednesday, she was weak. Once more, she had to miss her favorite pastime. She put her unease to indigestion or a winter malady.
But the next day, the minute her bare feet hit her bedroom floor, the room spun. She’d scarcely been ill a day in her life. A good thing, too, because she’d hated every pompous doctor, every bloviating physician, every crude sawbones she’d ever met when her husbands grew ill. And so, stunned that she’d gotten some ugly condition somewhere somehow, she gingerly laid back down in her bed. What had she eaten that was bad? She searched her memory and recalled no dish that had not tasted the very finest. Only the biscuits that Theo sent each morning appealed to her. And only by noon, if at all.
And she decided that, yes, it was most likely time to call in a physician.
The clock in the upper hall struck one when she managed to sit up without the world whirling around her.
Her maid had just put out her day gown of purple wool and a delicate white fichu when her butler knocked at her outer door.
“Do see what that’s about, Mary.”
The girl went to the sitting room and reported back immediately. “Williams says you have a caller, Madam.”
Oh, dear. Penn patted the sides of her head. She’d asked Mary to style a simple coil of hair at her nape this morning. She was not in the mood for long sittings before her mirror. She looked terrible anyway. “Who is it?”
“The Marquess of Tain, Madam.”
Theo?The man was much too persistent. What would she do about him? The sweet darling could not be dissuaded.
She flapped her arms in resignation. “Powder will do. And a touch of rouge for my cheeks.” She bent to her reflection and stuck out her tongue at the pallid woman there.
Spare minutes later, she opened the door and strode in…only two steps, then halted.
“Theo? What are you—? Oh!” He looked marvelous this afternoon in a navy coat, turquoise silk waistcoat, black breeches and charming smile. Bowing as elegantly as if he were greeting the Queen, he grinned at her in greeting. But he was not alone. To either side of him stood two little girls, one blonde, the second with more red to her hair. Each child gazed at Penn with the eagerness of children well attuned to social engagement.
“Good afternoon, Lady Goddard,” he said with a nonchalance that told her he’d billed this to his offspring as an ordinary visit upon a friend. “We make our formal calls today. Thank you for inviting us.”
She shot him a withering look.I didn’t, you rascal.
He winked at her, then said, “Allow me to present my daughters, Lady Goddard. This is my oldest, Lady Violet.” The blondest beamed at her and sank on her heels, head bowed. Her curtsy reminded Penn of a tiny bird fluttering in a bath.
“Lady Violet,” Penn said, enchanted by the child’s regard of her. “I am delighted to make your acquaintance.”
“And this is Lady Suzanna.”
This little girl was a plump toddler. How old? Three, perhaps? But she giggled as she dipped.
“Lady Suzanna, I am happy to meet you, too. How delightful that you three have come to visit me!” Penn regained her composure and walked into the room to admire them more closely. Violet looked like her father. Suzanna, too, save for her sea blue eyes and the red sheen to her hair. “Won’t you sit and talk with me for a few minutes?”
