Page 52 of Lord of Fortune
She stared at him a moment, then rolled her eyes. “Your arrogance emerges at the oddest times.”
Laughter shot from his mouth. “Arrogance? I prefer to think of it as being self-assured.”
“Call it whatever you like. You’re as bold as they come. But I suppose you have to be.”
“I would paint you with the same brush.”
Her brow curved into an elegant arch. “You think I’m arrogant?”
“Self-assured,” he corrected. “And bold. And tenacious. How else could you have nearly shot Egg’s ear off and traveled all over southern England with me?”
Now she blushed, and he appreciated the sparkle in her eye that accompanied it. She went back to eating again, and a few moments later, Etta returned with the second course, replacing the first, then taking her leave once more.
“Jessup’s mushroom sauce is divine,” Penn said, slicing into his venison and working to scoop up as much sauce as possible. “Or perhaps it’s Etta’s, I really don’t know.”
“How long have you known the Jessups?”
Penn thought back to what had first drawn him to the inn. He’d been a student at Oxford. “Close to fifteen years. I was on my way home through Little Witcombe when I saw Etta very high in the oak tree that sits in the corner of the yard near the road. I’m not sure what made me stop, but I did, just to make sure she was all right. She was all of eight years old.”
“Was she all right?”
Penn shook his head as he swallowed a bite of parsnips. “No. She was stuck and wasn’t able to shout loud enough for anyone to hear her. She’s always been painfully shy and soft-spoken.”
Amelia’s eyes creased with concern. “How horrid—not that she’s shy, but that no one could hear her.”
“I climbed up and managed to get us both down without falling. Honestly, I’m still not quite sure how I accomplished it.”
“She’s lucky you came along.”
He waved his fork in nonchalance. “Someone would have found her—she hadn’t been up there long. In any case, they insisted I stay, and that is how I came to know the Jessups and their delightful inn.” He grinned at her before cutting another delicious piece of venison.
“And there are no other Jessups? She doesn’t have siblings?”
“Unfortunately, no.” He winced at the memory. “I met Mrs. Jessup that first time I stayed. She was with child. It was a difficult birth, and both she and the child were lost. It was a terrible time for them.”
“How tragic.” She lifted her tankard and murmured, “To Mrs. Jessup.”
Penn raised his cup as well. “To Mrs. Jessup.” He eyed Amelia as he drank. She had a kind heart. His sister would like her. Would they meet? He wasn’t sure if Cate and her new husband planned to stop back in Monmouth after their wedding trip. And even if they did, it was likely he and Amelia would have moved on. He was keen to find the White Book—and the true heart.
They finished their meal, and before Penn could ask if she wanted to have a nightcap, she tried to stifle a yawn and failed.
“I’m afraid I’m ready to retire,” she said apologetically.
“I’ll escort you upstairs.” Watching her yawn made him tired too. Nevertheless, his body was still contemplating that it might be nice to escort her all the way to her room and see if she offered an invitation. He inwardly grimaced.
Maybe hewasarrogant.
“Thank you.” She started to rise, and he rushed to pull back her chair.
He offered her his arm and tried to ignore the rush of anticipation her mere touch incited. Guiding her up the stairs, he paused at the landing and gestured down the corridor opposite his room. “Down there?”
“Yes, at the end.”
He walked her to the door and waited until she removed her hand. When it took a second or two longer than necessary, he wondered if he ought to feel encouraged. “We’ll leave early, taking breakfast with us. Unless you’d rather stay.”
“No, I’d prefer to be on our way as soon as possible.”
He laid his hand against his chest. “Your eagerness speaks directly to my heart.”
