Page 1 of One Night of Temptation
Chapter 1
London, June 1817
Now that the moment was here, Lady Penelope Wakefield’s heart felt as though it might beat right out of her chest. She was certain her chaperone, who was also her mother’s cousin, Mrs. Hall, who stood beside her peering at an exotic stuffed bird, would hear the way Penelope’s pulse pounded through her veins.
It was now or never.
“Oh dear,” Penelope said in mock distress as she reached for her bare earlobe, having dropped the earring some time ago in another area of the museum. “I’ve lost my earring.”
Mrs. Hall, a severe, pinch-faced woman, swung a perturbed look at Penelope, her lips practically disappearing beneath the weight of her distaste. “How clumsy of you. I suppose we must find it. Your mother will not be pleased if you’ve truly lost it.”
Her mother was rarely pleased, but the loss of the pearl earring she’d given Penelope at the start of the Season would infuriate her. However, it was a small price to pay for freedom. Which was precisely what was at stake.
“The museum will be closing soon,” Penelope said. “Perhaps you should look here and in the last room while I retrace my steps farther back.” She held her breath, for if Mrs. Hall didn’t allow her to go, Penelope’s plan would be over before it even began.
Mrs. Hall’s brow furrowed as her lips turned in a deep frown. “We should look together. But you are, unfortunately, correct. The museum will be closing, and you must find that earring.” She pursed her lips. “Although, it would serve you well to return home without the earring and explain your carelessness to the marchioness. On second thought, you’ll do that whether you find the earring or not.”
Irritation ground through Penelope’s anxiety, but there was no point in responding to Mrs. Hall’s directive. Penelope would “find” the earring on her way out of the museum—to freedom.
“Shall we go together, then?” Penelope prompted, mentally crossing her fingers that Mrs. Hall would say no…
The older woman exhaled with grave annoyance. “We will divide our energies. Meet me at the entrance at closing time.” She leaned forward slightly, narrowing her eyes. “And we won’t speak a word of this to anyone.”
Relief and exhilaration shot through Penelope. Hiding her emotion, which was second nature, she merely nodded with a somber expression. “No, we won’t.” She turned before Mrs. Hall could change her mind and went in search of the earring.
Penelope made her way through the rooms to the staircase, pausing briefly to pick up the earring where she’d dropped it near a display of stuffed giraffes. With a backward glance to ensure Mrs. Hall was nowhere to be seen, Penelope hurried down the stairs and wove through the library to the rear entrance.
She encountered just two people and made sure to keep her head down. She’d worn a bonnet with a particularly wide brim to aid in shielding her face, just as she’d worn a costume in the most nondescript color possible. That had been a difficult feat since her wardrobe had been crafted to draw attention—specifically the attention of a would-be husband.
While her clothing and her beauty—so she was told—had made her a focal point of the Season, she’d striven to deter courtship, usually telling gentlemen that she preferred to wait until the end of the Season to make a match. She told her parents it was best to ensure they considered all possible candidates before choosing the best one. Her father had liked her selective approach, but as the end of the Season approached and no gentleman came forward to express his desire for a match, the marquess had arranged the most terrible marriage Penelope could imagine. Now she had no choice but to take drastic measures to avoid it. She had no intention of wedding the odious Earl of Findon.
The exterior door came into view, and Penelope hastened toward it. Just before she stepped outside into the bright afternoon, she feared she would be stopped.
But she wasn’t.
Freedom was hers! Or at least it was close. Looking behind herself one more time, she was once again relieved to see she hadn’t been followed. Now she just had to make her way to the rendezvous point.
Crossing Great Russell Street was her biggest challenge, but she managed it, even as she darted nervous glances toward her coach parked just past the museum. Hurrying down a side street, she was sure the museum must be closing. Any moment, Mrs. Hall would realize Penelope was gone.
Would she raise an alarm and have them search the museum? Or would she keep Penelope’s disappearance quiet and return to Mayfair to inform her parents? If Mrs. Hall thought her mother would be upset about a lost earring, just imagine how furious she and Penelope’s father would be when they learnedPenelopewas lost.
Penelope suffered a moment’s regret for the chaperone, but only a moment. Mrs. Hall was a willing and gleeful participant in belittling Penelope and ensuring she was completely scrutinized. While Penelope didn’t wish to cause anyone distress, she also acknowledged that this was her only chance to avoid her father’s machinations. If she didn’t change her fortune, she would soon be the Countess of Findon.
Following the directions Maisie had given her, Penelope wound through the neighborhood toward their designated meeting location. For the hundredth time, Penelope said a grateful prayer for Maisie, the warm and supportive friend she’d made during her first visit to the Church of St. Giles-in-the-Fields three months ago. Without her ingenuity and kindness, Penelope would be forced to marry Findon.
It felt strange to walk about without a chaperone or a footman or any companion whatsoever. Strange and maybe a bit…naughty. Or reckless.
It was all those things. It was alsonecessary. Findon was nearly old enough to be her grandfather, and he treated her as if he already had a claim. But then, he thought he did. Nearly a year and a half ago, she’d been betrothed to marry his son, who’d died of a sudden illness before they could be wed.
Barely six months later, Findon had begun to hint to Penelope’s father that he would be willing to marry her instead. Then this Season, he’d become bolder, taking his case directly to the marquess. Findon reasoned that she would still get the title she’d hoped to gain, and he’d father a son to replace the one he’d lost.
When Penelope failed to secure another match, her father had warmed to the idea. In truth, it was he who wanted Findon’s title—namely, the boroughs Findon controlled and would allow her father to control via the marriage.
Penelope’s preferences were never taken into account, which was why today’s endeavor was absolutely vital. Maisie had understood that she didn’t want to meekly accept her fate—she wanted to change it.
At last, Penelope reached the neighborhood of St. Giles. While she’d been to the church to deliver clothing and other goods with her mother and other Mayfair ladies many times throughout the Season, she’d never gone into the rookery of St. Giles. It was a den of vice and poverty and, above all, danger, especially to someone like Penelope.
Her skin prickled as if everyone around her, suddenly aware that a Mayfair lady had strolled into their midst, was about to pounce. However, as she looked around, she saw people going about their business.
