Page 29 of Love in the Time of Scandal
Penelope blinked. “No? Then Clary didn’t...?”
Slowly Atherton shook his head. “Not one story includes my name.”
“But you punched him!” she exclaimed. “Why is he angry at me and not you?”
“I only punched him because he was mauling you.”
She wet her lips. “That was extremely gallant of you, and I heartily approved. But that makes it even clearer that we should stay far away from each other. We might even go on as if we violently disliked each other, to negate anything Mrs. Lockwood might say! There’s no reason at all for you to make such a sacrifice for me.”
He looked at her for a long moment. Penelope unconsciously took a step backward under his unwavering scrutiny. “Was Frances Lockwood right? Do you truly hate me?”
She wanted to say yes. She hated so many things about him: the way he had turned his back on Sebastian and allowed rumors of murder and thievery to persist for years; his cold-blooded approach to marriage; the effect he had on her despite all her wishes to the contrary; the fact that he had never once noticed her attraction to him or felt any similar pull. But he had saved her from Clary, and even after the appalling scene with Frances and Mrs. Lockwood, he was offering to help save her again. The lie wouldn’t even come to her lips. “Of course not, my lord,” she muttered.
“Then don’t trouble yourself about any sacrifice on my part. I offer freely and unreservedly. Don’t underestimate Clary; he’s a cold and vindictive man. He already tried to force himself on you. If I’m by your side, you’ll be safe.”
Another shudder went through her. “My father and brother can protect me, thank you.”
“Indeed,” he replied dryly. “And yet they were nowhere to be seen when you most needed them, and it doesn’t appear you’ve even told them about the encounter.”
That was true. Penelope groped for another reason. “Why would you do this? If you’re dancing attendance on me, it will spoil your chances with any other lady you might wish to court in truth.”
He leaned toward her, very slightly, but enough for her to see the different striations of blue in his eyes. His lips curved in that mesmerizing smile that generally reduced women to sighs and blushes. “What if that lady is you?”
She snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous! You tried to marry my sister.” Saying the words aloud restored her sense. Atherton’s proposal—as mad as it was—had an insidious appeal that had begun to weaken her resistance.
“But I didn’t,” he replied, unruffled. “Once we got on quite well together, you and I. I would like to see if we might be able to rediscover that...” His gaze flickered down for a moment. “Affinity.”
She took a step back, feeling a little saner as the distance between them increased. “I wouldn’t.”
He took a step forward, closing the distance again. “Why not? What are you afraid of?”
“The apoplexy I might suffer if exposed to much more of your company, my lord.”
He raised one brow. “Apoplexy! I’ve never brought a lady to one of those.”
“How can you know?” She widened her eyes. “Perhaps that’s why they all refuse your marriage proposals.”
That barb struck home, she could see it in his face. His eyes flashed, and his sensual smile faded. “I think the next one will be accepted,” he said evenly.
Penelope felt at once better and worse. Better, in that she was accustomed to dealing with Atherton this way; he probably thought her shrewish, but it kept her from succumbing to his charm. Penelope was not about to be the next young lady he set his sights on, the next female who swooned under the influence of his charm and handsome face and knowing smile. She didn’t trust Lord Atherton, even when he was ostensibly coming to her aid.
But at the same time... a small part of her twinged in regret. What if he did want to court her? What if he did want her? What if he’d been attracted to her all along but tried to deny it and now no longer could? What if those were the real reasons behind his gallant offer?
Ruthlessly Penelope squashed that wistful little voice. Only a fool would give in to it. That little voice knew nothing at all of what Lord Atherton might actually think and feel, and she would not give in to its pathetic longings. “I wish you the very best of luck,” she told the viscount. “I’m ready to return to my mother now.”
Without another word of protest he escorted her out of the park to the upholsterer’s shop where Mama was still choosing fabric. “Thank you, sir,” she said. “I do appreciate your kindness in warning me.”
Atherton studied her for a moment, no longer radiating charm or tense with irritation. It was the most considering look he’d ever given her. “If you should change your mind...”
“I won’t.” Penelope curtsied to avoid his probing gaze. “Good-bye, my lord.”
To her surprise he took her hand and raised it to his lips. “For now,” he murmured. He turned on his heel and strode away. Penelope watched until he disappeared around the corner, and told herself she’d done the right thing.
If only it felt more rewarding.
Chapter 11
Benedict returned to the officers’ barracks in a turbulent mood.
