Page 23 of Love in the Time of Scandal
“Lord Atherton.” Penelope said it as if the name meant nothing toher.
“Atherton?” Olivia’s eyebrows went up, and her face went blank with astonishment again.
Penelope stirred her tea and lifted one shoulder. “He was quite gallant, actually.”
“Viscount Atherton? The one who courted Abby last summer?” Olivia went on incredulously. “The one about to propose to Miss Lockwood?”
She gritted her teeth. “The very one.” She was growing very tired of discussing Atherton’s romantic intentions. “I’m sure Clary learned his lesson and will keep away from me, but I suspect he won’t do the same for you—and I also fear he’ll take out his fury on you.” She watched closely for any sign that this shocked Olivia and saw none; the other woman had clearly already thought of it. “You have to tell me. Or someone. Tell Jamie! He’ll be glad to put a dent in Clary’s smug face.”
Olivia had the tense look of someone thinking very hard. “No, don’t tell your brother.”
Penelope wanted to rip out her hair in frustration. Why were some people so amiable? If someone like Clary was compelling her to meet him in secluded spots for vile reasons, she wouldn’t hesitate to tell anyone who might help her—or at least lend her a pistol, so she could see to Clary on her own. “Why not? Jamie won’t think badly of you,” she argued, trying to make her friend see reason. “He’s stiff and dull but he’s not an idiot, and he’s been your friend since... longer than I can remember! He’ll keep your confidence, I know he will.”
“I know he would, too.” For a long moment Olivia hesitated, her mouth working subtly as if struggling with what to say. “It’s not that I don’t trust him—or you or Abigail. You simply have to believe me when I say there’s nothing any of you can do to help. I don’t want you caught up in my problems. Promise me you’ll stay far away from Clary, and even from me if he’s nearby.”
“Promise me you’ll do something to save yourself from him, then.” Penelope threw up her hand when Olivia said nothing. She thrust her teacup back onto the table and leaned toward her friend. “There must be something you can do, or someone you can ask to help you. I promise I won’t tell a soul, not even Abby, if you wish,” she said in a low, fierce voice. “But you have to see that Clary is a monster! If you could handle him yourself, why haven’t you already doneit?”
“I know!” burst out Olivia, losing her composure at last. She rubbed her hands along her skirt, and bright red spots burned in her cheeks. “I know that, Penelope! But... he’s not easy to refuse, and I just need time. But you must promise me that you’ll stay far, far away from him.Please.”
“If you let me tell Jamie so he can keep close to you,” replied Penelope quickly. She had no qualms committing her brother to being a watchman.
Her friend sat back, her expression closed and hard. “Absolutely not.” She inhaled a deep breath. “I know I have to do something about—about him. I promise you that I am thinking, frantically, and when I construct a plan that will work, I will come to you at once for any help I need.”
“Olivia...” Penelope gazed at her in worry, at a loss for words. “How did you get tangled up with him in the first place?”
The other woman didn’t answer for a long minute, then simply said, “Henry.”
Oh Lord. Henry Townsend, Olivia’s late husband, had been the sort of man who couldn’t avoid trouble if he sat alone in a locked room. Penelope bit back some very rude words about Henry. “Then I give you my word I won’t say anything. But I won’t stop thinking about it. If I had known he was hounding you so horribly, I would have told Lord Atherton to punch him a few more times.”
“Lord Atherton punched him?” Olivia blinked in confusion.
Penelope cleared her throat. She hadn’t really meant to mention him again. “Yes. When he saved me from Clary, he might have punched the earl in the stomach once or twice.”
Instead of looking pleased, Olivia paled. “Once or twice?”
“I wish he’d done it a dozen more times,” Penelope added, repressing the primal thrill that went through her at the memory of Atherton standing over Clary, fists at the ready to defend her. “Clary deservedit.”
Her friend swallowed hard. “But it means he’ll remember you—both ofyou.”
“That can’t be helped now, so I choose to relish the fact that he did punch Clary, and not lightly, either.” Penelope relented at the worry in Olivia’s expression. She reached for her friend’s hand. “Don’t fret. I’m sure Atherton won’t tell anyone; do you know, I think he rather enjoyed it. And he never saw you there at all, so he knows nothing of your involvement.”Which is about how much I know, thought Penelope, wondering what Henry Townsend could have done that was so vile, Clary would expect to violate his widow—and that Olivia would feel she had no choice but to allowit.
Olivia grasped her hand and squeezed. “I’m very grateful he happened by when he did,” she said with a trace of her usual smile. “You must have been so happy to seehim.”
“Er... yes.” Penelope smiled uncomfortably and eased her hand free. “That once.” If only he’d left immediately after sending off Clary.
“It sounds quite heroic, Pen. Surely this will help you think better of him, should he marry Miss Lockwood.”
Penelope was quite certain that wouldn’t happen now, but she didn’t feel like volunteering the information. The less said about the Lockwoods, the better. She was still praying Mrs. Lockwood might suffer a feverish delirium that would erase her memory of the Gosnold rout entirely, or that Lord Atherton’s regiment would be posted suddenly and immediately to northern Scotland. “Surely,” she mumbled in agreement.
Olivia sighed, with a sympathetic smile. “Well, I for one am very grateful to him.” She hesitated. “Just as I am very grateful to you. I wish Clary had never set eyes on you, but I must confess I was very happy when you opened the door.”
Penelope smiled cautiously in reply. “Then I’m not sorry I did it. I—I do know how you feel. When Atherton appeared I almost thought I could kiss him.” Olivia blinked, then snorted with laughter at her exaggerated grimace. Penelope grinned, immensely relieved to see her friend happy again. “You are sure you’re all right, Olivia?”
Still smiling—although a little bittersweetly—Olivia nodded. “I’m sure.” She rose. “Be careful of Clary,” she said again. “For me, if not for your own sake.”
“He’s the very last person I ever want to see again,” Penelope assured her with complete honesty. “Just remember you can count on me for any help you need.”
“I will.” Olivia gave her a quick embrace. “Thank you, Penelope.”
