Page 89 of Lord of Fortune
Penn waiteda few moments before he followed Amelia inside. He needed to catch his breath.
What the hell had he been thinking?
Hehadn’tbeen thinking. He’d beenfeeling. And surrendering to those feelings.
He’d been foolish and reckless, and he couldn’t do it again. That knowledge burned through him. He closed his eyes and dropped his head, then massaged the back of his neck as if he could drive the tension away.
Except he couldn’t.
Focus on the book.
Lifting his head, he inhaled sharply and dropped his hand to his side. Yes, he needed to focus on obtaining the book and solving the code so they could find the real heart.
They.His association with Amelia wasn’t finished yet. He still had to watch her divert her husband while he found the book. That would be pure torture.
But not as awful as when he had to say good-bye.
Shoving the thought aside with a curse, he stalked into the house. When he arrived in the dining room, three pairs of eyes looked up at him. They’d finished their meals, and Penn’s had been covered to preserve it for when he returned. Only he wasn’t really hungry.
“Where’s Mrs. Forrest?” Gideon asked, glancing behind Penn.
“She’s gone upstairs to prepare for the trip. We’d like to leave immediately.”
Gideon leapt to his feet. “Excellent. I’m glad she convinced you of the integrity of the plan—she’ll be fine. You’ll ensure it.”
Of course he would. Penn said nothing.
“I’ll have the horses prepared,” Gideon continued. “I think we should ride. A coach will slow us down. As I said before, we’ll hire one in Glastonbury for our needs.”
“I agree,” Penn said.
Gideon nodded, then left.
Penn’s mother didn’t waste time in broaching the subject of Amelia. “Penn, I don’t wish to overstep, but I would be remiss if I didn’t ask you about Amelia. It was evident last night that your relationship is beyond that of mere professional associates.” There was concern in her gaze but also something else—was it sadness?
Penn had considered—briefly with all that was going on—what he might say in the event his mother asked this. He didn’t want to go into too much depth. It was all moot anyway. “It turns out the husband who left her years ago has returned, so our relationship—whatever it was or might have been—is that of friendship and nothing more.” Never mind what had just occurred in the lean-to. They shouldn’t have done it, but neither would he regret it.
His father coughed and dipped a glance toward Penn’s throat. “Son, your cravat is askew.”
The meaning was clear—they’d drawn their own, not inaccurate, conclusions about where Penn and Amelia had gone. Or, more importantly, what they had done during their absence from the dining room.
Penn silently swore as he adjusted his neckcloth. He was probably cocking it up even further, so he gave up almost immediately. Where was a glass of whiskey when he needed it?
His mother laid her hand on the table, reaching toward him. “Penn, it’s none of our concern, but we care for you and don’t wish to see you hurt. When I thought there might be…something between you, I was overjoyed. To think you had finally found someone who would make you happy, someone for whom you might settle down…” She winced. “I’m sorry you can’t pursue it.”
“Well, hecould…” His father drawled.
His mother gasped and sent him a sharp look. “Rhys! He most certainly cannot.”
“It works for Septon and Lady Stratton.” Father tipped his head to the side. “Do you think they’ll wed now?”
Mother rolled her eyes. “Septon allows many things that most would not. His association with that awful Order should be proof enough. You can’t think to infer Penn is the same.”
Father straightened. “No.” He shot an apologetic smile at Penn. “I wish there was a way for you and Mrs. Forrest to be together—if that’s what you both want.”
That was whathewanted. Would she want the same if she were free? She hadn’t said. But again, it was moot. It was perhaps better if he didn’t know.
“As an earl, you should consider taking a countess,” his mother said. “But there’ll be time for that. Or not. I’d never planned to marry, and if I hadn’t met your father, I would likely be a spinster. There’s nothing wrong with being unmarried.”
