Читать книгу The Historical Collection - Stephanie Laurens - Страница 38

“Beautiful.”

“Remarkable.”

“Stunning. Absolutely stunning.”

Ever since arriving at the ball, Penny had heard many similar compliments. Sadly, none of them were directed at her. They were merely uttered near her.

“Never in my life have I seen so many craned necks.” Nicola surveyed the crowded ballroom.

“You should attend a gathering of astronomers,” Alexandra said.

“This is more like a gathering of ostriches.”

The dancing hadn’t yet begun, but the orchestra played light music while guests moved through the rooms, admiring the opulent decor. The mirrored walls, the paintings in gilt frames, the carved moldings, the waterfalls of blue velvet drapery framing the windows.

Here in the ballroom, the soaring ceilings drew the largest share of attention. Someone viewing the scene from afar might conclude that tipped heads and elongated necks were the latest fashion arrived from the Continent.

“They ought to be looking at your gown,” Alexandra said. “That’s the true work of art in the room.”

Penny smoothed her gloved hands along the sheer silk netting that overlaid an underdress of ivory satin. The gauzy fabric was patterned with tiny pink roses connected by curling tendrils of green. The cap sleeves were fashioned from satin petals layered over creamy lace. A wide band of green velvet cinched her waist, and the daring neckline revealed the perfect amount of cleavage.

“Emma works miracles,” she said.

“The beauty is all in the wearer,” Emma said graciously.

“Let’s hope that undeserving man shows up to appreciate it,” Nicola grumbled.

Penny stood on her toes and scanned the growing crush of guests.

No sign of Gabriel. No sign of her brother yet, either.

Nicola shook her head. “I’ve been saying all along that he’s not good enough for you. What sort of person fails to appear at his own ball?”

“He’s here somewhere,” Emma said. “Most likely occupied with hosting duties. He’ll make an appearance before long.”

A wandering servant offered flutes of champagne. Penny, Nicola, and Emma accepted eagerly. Alexandra declined, in favor of food.

“A toast to the three of you.” Penny raised her glass. “You didn’t have to come, but I’m grateful you did. Especially you, Alex. You should be at home with your feet propped on a cushion.”

Alexandra balanced a plate of refreshments atop her immensely rounded belly. “We’d never abandon you to face this alone.” She nibbled at a sandwich. “Besides, the food alone is worth the effort of attending. You’ve improved on this recipe remarkably, Penny.”

“What do you mean? Which recipe?”

Alex held up a half-eaten finger sandwich. “The sham. It’s not bad.”

Nicola grimaced. “Surely that’s the pregnancy speaking.”

Alexandra offered a sample from her plate. “Taste for yourself.”

“I’ll try.” Emma took a sandwich and sank her teeth into it, then chewed with caution. As she swallowed, her eyebrows rose in surprise. “That‘s almost tasty. What did you change, Penny?”

“I didn’t change anything. Gabriel’s chef must have made it. I had nothing to do with the refreshments.”

“That’s odd,” Alex said. “I assumed you planned the entire menu. There’s not a scrap of meat to be found anywhere.”

“Truly? No meat whatsoever?”

“Not that I could find, and I did search.” She looked down at her swollen belly. “This baby is quite the carnivore. It’s all delicious, though. Onion tartlets, pastry puffs stuffed with cheese, a terrine of mushroom and hazelnuts. There’s a pharaoh-sized pyramid of exotic fruits. The pineapples alone must have cost a small fortune. And, of course, there’s the sham.”

“Oh, Penny. He must truly love you,” Emma said. “Ash and Chase ate the sham. Gabriel made more.”

Penny couldn’t believe it. He must have arranged the menu. Of course, he would have done so days ago, well before their argument today. Nevertheless, she was touched by the gesture. He truly had planned this evening for her, down to the last detail.

Just as Emma had worked tirelessly to create her gown, and Nicola and Alexandra were here to support her, despite the fact that they’d rather be anywhere else.

Yet here Penny was, tucked in a corner.

A wallflower, as always.

Tonight, she vowed, she would be different. She would leave the dancing to those who enjoyed it, but she would mingle, converse, make her rounds of the guests—if only to say that she had done it. Not for Gabriel, and not for Aunt Caroline. For herself.

Penny drew a deep breath and stepped away from the wall.

“Wait.” Nicola grabbed her by the arm, yanking her back. Her voice was frantic. “Don’t go.”

Penny turned to her friend. “Heavens, Nic. You’ve gone white as paper.”

“Are you ill?” Emma laid a hand to Nicola’s brow, testing for fever in motherly fashion. “Do you need to sit down?”

“You look as though you’ve seen a ghost,” Alex said.

“Worse than a ghost.” Nicola shielded her face with one hand and lowered her head. “I’ve seen a fiancé.”

“A fiancé?” Penny echoed. “Whose fiancé?”

She moaned faintly. “Mine, I think.”

What?

Nicola, engaged to be married? Penny exchanged quizzical glances with Emma and Alex. They each shook their heads, as if to say this was news to them, as well.

Penny turned to look about them. “Where? Who?”

“For God’s sake, don’t look!” Nicola arranged the three of them shoulder to shoulder, making a human fence and then ducking behind it. “I can’t let him see me. He’ll recognize me from the hair alone.”

The orchestra struck up the first strains of a quadrille. The dancing was about to begin.

“Come.” Emma put her arm about their flame-haired friend’s shoulders. “We’ll find a place away from the crowd. And then you must tell us everything.”

“Very well. But you have to conceal me until it’s safe.”

“There’s a servants’ door in the far corner of the ballroom,” Penny said. “The corridor behind it leads to the rear of the house. We can make our escape through there.”

The three of them shuffled sideways in an awkward, not-at-all-suspicious manner. Meanwhile Nicola crouched in their shadow, scurrying behind their human shield. Thank goodness everyone was more interested in pairing off for the quadrille than in watching a quartet of social misfits.

When they reached the corner, Penny prised open the hidden door, just a crack. “The three of you first. I’ll stand guard.” She turned to face the ballroom and smiled innocently, fluffing her skirts to make a wider shield. Behind her, the others filed through the door, one by one.

And then she glimpsed Gabriel through the crowd, standing at the opposite end of the ballroom. He was magnificent in his full evening dress. Black tailcoat layered over a snow-white vest and cravat. His cheeks looked so smooth, she imagined that might be the reason for his tardiness. He’d probably been upstairs shaving at the last minute. By midnight, he’d have a forest of whiskers again. Their eyes met.

“Penny,” Alexandra whispered. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Not just now,” she answered. “Go on without me.”

As the quadrille came to an end, the dancers dispersed. He began to walk toward her.

She’d always dreamed of this scene. What girl hadn’t? The dark, handsome man locking gazes with her across the crowded ballroom. Striding toward her, unwavering in his intent, drawn to her beauty, acting on an inexorable melding of desire and destiny.

It wouldn’t happen that way. Not tonight. She refused to stand there meekly while Gabriel Duke made his manly strides across the ballroom to claim her.

Penny was going to meet him halfway.

When she began to move toward him, Gabe cursed under his breath. This was a wrinkle in his plans. She was beautiful beyond words. Beyond his words, at any rate. And he’d counted on having a long, slow saunter across the floor to search his brain for a compliment that would be remotely sufficient.

Instead, she was going to intercept him before he had any chance.

When they met in the center of the ballroom, he was speechless.

She broke the silence. “I want to say something witty or cutting. One of those worldly remarks that brings a man to his knees. But I can’t think of anything, so … The ball is lovely. You look quite handsome.”

“And here I was just cursing myself for my complete inability to describe how beautiful you look. You deserve a sonnet. An ode? I don’t even know the difference between the two. Next time, I’ll hire a poet.”

She smiled and shrugged. “We are who we are.”

“We are who we are.”

God, he loved who she was. But what was more, he loved who they were together. He couldn’t lose that.

“I don’t want to take you away from the party,” he said. “I just had a brief question to ask you.”

“I have a question for you, too.”

“You go first,” he said.

“No, you go first.”

“I insist.”

“I insist more.”

“Fine,” he said. “Will you marry me?”

She stared at him. “This was your brief question? This.”

“It’s four words on my part. Your answer only requires one. That’s the definition of brief.”

“Is it?”

He reached for her hands. “I know it’s not a romantic proposal, but I wanted to ask before your brother arrives. I need you to know that your answer is the only one that matters. The things I said to you were unforgivable. That contract was a horrid, thoughtless mistake. You were right to shred it to bits, and I’ve made certain my solicitor’s copy was torn to pieces, too. The thing of it is, I was afraid. I’m afraid no one will believe you married me for love, because I find it so difficult to believe it myself. It seems impossible that you could love me. But then it once seemed impossible that I could love anyone, and now I love you with a ferocity I can’t describe. Not because I need a poet, but because I don’t want to frighten you away. You’re the kindest soul I’ll ever meet, and we’re astounding together in bed. I don’t think I could live without you. Well, I don’t know. Perhaps I could. In the past, I learned to survive without a great many things. But I don’t want to live without you. I realize you might not forgive me yet for being a shameless, presumptuous prick, but—”

“Yes,” she interrupted. “The answer is yes. Adorable as it is to watch you nervously rattling on, if you want my answer before my brother arrives, we don’t have all evening. So yes.”

“Thank God.” He closed his eyes and exhaled gruffly. “Damn it. I left the ring in the safe.”

She laughed. “Best proposal in the world.”

“So what was your question?” he asked.

“I’d almost forgotten. I was going to ask if you’d care to dance. With me.”

“Penny.” His heart clenched like a fist. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to, so long as it’s with you. Everything is different with you.” She licked her lips, anxious. “They’re playing a waltz. The waltz wasn’t in England yet when I … when I first learned to dance. It would be entirely new for me.”

He brought both her hands to his lips and kissed them. “I’m so honored. And I wish like hell that I knew how. Neither of us would know what we’re doing, I’m afraid.”

“It couldn’t possibly be a more alarming scene than my last attempt at dancing in public.”

He supposed that was true.

“Even if it is a disaster, what’s the worst that could happen? No one will invite us to another ball for a decade. What a shame that would be.”

“In that case …” He waved his arm in the direction of the dancing. “After you.”

To Gabe, the waltz seemed to be nothing but a great deal of mincing, turning, and mincing while turning. He felt like a clumsy ass, but he did his best for Penny’s sake. For the remainder of his life, he’d do his best for Penny’s sake.

She stopped in the middle of a mincing turn. The music continued, and the dancing went on, but Penny was frozen in place, staring at something over his shoulder.

“Penny?”

Her gaze held emotions he’d never seen in her before. Emotions he wouldn’t have even believed to be in her character. Fear. Fury. Hatred.

And Gabe knew—he just knew, in his soul—there could be only one reason for it.

She pasted a false smile on her face and threaded her arm through his, turning him to face a pair of men. The younger of the two looked to be about the same age as Gabe, but he had Penny’s light hair and blue eyes.

This one must be Bradford.

The other man was older, though not old. He had brown hair gone gray at the temples, and an insidiously average-looking face.

This one must be the Devil.

“There you are, Penelope,” her brother said. “We’ve been looking for you.” He settled cold, suspicious eyes on Gabe. “Introduce us to your friend?”

“Bradford, this is Mr. Gabriel Duke. Gabriel, this is my brother Bradford. And this is Mr. Lambert. He’s Bradford’s father-in-law.”