anytime you wish. I know….”
But the Comte rudely pushed past her without a word, and Augusta watched him go with an unlovely smile on her face which changed to one of real delight. Penelope was waltzing with the Earl.
Penelope had danced every dance except the waltz since she had not been given permission by the Patronesses to dance it and none of her partners had been enterprising enough to request that permission. It was the Earl who had prevailed on Lady Cowper to allow Penelope to stand up with him.
He now held her in his arms and looked down at her flushed and happy face. “You look so beautiful, Miss Vesey, he whispered, “that I am sorely tempted to kiss you again.”
“Oh, how
can
you,” cried Penelope with flaming cheeks.
“Quite easily,” he teased. “But not at Almack’s. I should never live it down.”
“I-I d-do not want y-you to think I l-let gentlemen kiss me,” stammered Penelope. “I had never been kissed before.”
“Let me assure you,” replied the Earl earnestly, “that you do it
very
well.”
“Oooooh!” breathed Penelope. “How
infuriating
you are! You obviously think I am not a lady.”
“On the contrary,” he said in a husky voice, “I find you
adorable
.”
Penelope glanced swiftly up into his eyes, and the warmth and intensity of his gaze nearly stopped her heart.
The dance came to an end, and Penelope’s next partner immediately appeared. She stared back at the Earl with an almost pleading look on her face, and he gave her a reassuring smile.
The Earl had tumbled suddenly and irrevocably into love. When he had held her in his arms during the first bars of the waltz, he had realised with a shock of alarm that he never wanted to let go of her again. He thought wildly of what he owed his ancient name, he thought of Augusta Harvey—and all in vain. He wanted Penelope Vesey as his wife.
Chapter Six
D ESPITE THE E ARL’S social power, not all of polite society rushed to leave cards at the house in Brook Street. But a few did arrive, and that was a beginning as far as Augusta Harvey was concerned.
Her daily lessons from Miss Stride continued and did much to modify her dress and manner although she could only sustain the latter improvement for very short periods indeed.
Mr. Liwoski worked diligently on Augusta’s portrait, and Penelope sat on the window seat and alternately watched him and dreamed of the Earl.
She had not seen him since that ball at Almack’s. Three long days had passed and still he did not call. She tried to put him down in her mind as an accomplished flirt and then remembered the warm expression in his eyes and was slightly comforted.
The Prince Regent had held a tremendous dinner at Clarence House in honor of the visiting French royal family the day before. Neither Augusta nor her niece had been invited.
That
was aiming too high, too soon, Miss Stride had informed them with a superior air.
Clarence House and its grounds had been thrown open that day to the curious public, and Augusta had had to be almost forcibly restrained from going. Only the common people would be there, Miss Stride had assured her.
Charles had not called either. Rumors were flying about London that he had won a vast amount at Waiter’s. Penelope, who had guessed that Charles suffered from the Fatal Curse, wondered if concern for his young brother had kept the Earl away.
The Earl had in fact been called away to his estates on urgent business and had therefore not heard of his brother’s gambling success.
Charles at that moment was triumphantly rapping on the Courtlands’ knocker. He had gone to settle his debt with the Comte. Yes, the Comte de Chernier was at home and would be pleased to see him, he was informed, and Charles took a deep breath of relief. The nightmare would soon be over.
The Comte was not yet dressed and was wearing a magnificent brocaded dressing gown. He turned with a smile of welcome when Charles was announced which faded when he saw the
But the Comte rudely pushed past her without a word, and Augusta watched him go with an unlovely smile on her face which changed to one of real delight. Penelope was waltzing with the Earl.
Penelope had danced every dance except the waltz since she had not been given permission by the Patronesses to dance it and none of her partners had been enterprising enough to request that permission. It was the Earl who had prevailed on Lady Cowper to allow Penelope to stand up with him.
He now held her in his arms and looked down at her flushed and happy face. “You look so beautiful, Miss Vesey, he whispered, “that I am sorely tempted to kiss you again.”
“Oh, how
can
you,” cried Penelope with flaming cheeks.
“Quite easily,” he teased. “But not at Almack’s. I should never live it down.”
“I-I d-do not want y-you to think I l-let gentlemen kiss me,” stammered Penelope. “I had never been kissed before.”
“Let me assure you,” replied the Earl earnestly, “that you do it
very
well.”
“Oooooh!” breathed Penelope. “How
infuriating
you are! You obviously think I am not a lady.”
“On the contrary,” he said in a husky voice, “I find you
adorable
.”
Penelope glanced swiftly up into his eyes, and the warmth and intensity of his gaze nearly stopped her heart.
The dance came to an end, and Penelope’s next partner immediately appeared. She stared back at the Earl with an almost pleading look on her face, and he gave her a reassuring smile.
The Earl had tumbled suddenly and irrevocably into love. When he had held her in his arms during the first bars of the waltz, he had realised with a shock of alarm that he never wanted to let go of her again. He thought wildly of what he owed his ancient name, he thought of Augusta Harvey—and all in vain. He wanted Penelope Vesey as his wife.
Chapter Six
D ESPITE THE E ARL’S social power, not all of polite society rushed to leave cards at the house in Brook Street. But a few did arrive, and that was a beginning as far as Augusta Harvey was concerned.
Her daily lessons from Miss Stride continued and did much to modify her dress and manner although she could only sustain the latter improvement for very short periods indeed.
Mr. Liwoski worked diligently on Augusta’s portrait, and Penelope sat on the window seat and alternately watched him and dreamed of the Earl.
She had not seen him since that ball at Almack’s. Three long days had passed and still he did not call. She tried to put him down in her mind as an accomplished flirt and then remembered the warm expression in his eyes and was slightly comforted.
The Prince Regent had held a tremendous dinner at Clarence House in honor of the visiting French royal family the day before. Neither Augusta nor her niece had been invited.
That
was aiming too high, too soon, Miss Stride had informed them with a superior air.
Clarence House and its grounds had been thrown open that day to the curious public, and Augusta had had to be almost forcibly restrained from going. Only the common people would be there, Miss Stride had assured her.
Charles had not called either. Rumors were flying about London that he had won a vast amount at Waiter’s. Penelope, who had guessed that Charles suffered from the Fatal Curse, wondered if concern for his young brother had kept the Earl away.
The Earl had in fact been called away to his estates on urgent business and had therefore not heard of his brother’s gambling success.
Charles at that moment was triumphantly rapping on the Courtlands’ knocker. He had gone to settle his debt with the Comte. Yes, the Comte de Chernier was at home and would be pleased to see him, he was informed, and Charles took a deep breath of relief. The nightmare would soon be over.
The Comte was not yet dressed and was wearing a magnificent brocaded dressing gown. He turned with a smile of welcome when Charles was announced which faded when he saw the
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