Kiss Me Lady One More Time Page 10

  Lady Tresham tapped him with her parasol. She spoke again.

  Mr. Millbank glanced over and smiled lazily and straightened a little.

  “She’s going to run,” Penelope said suddenly.

  “I cannot get any closer, not until that phaeton ahead moves away,” Sterne said in frustration.

  Penelope leaned down and spoke to a gentleman not far away. “Excuse me, would you give me your hand?”

  The stranger looked startled but stepped forward quickly and she was on the ground before Sterne could do more than make a grunt of protest. “I’ll squeeze through before she can get away,” she called up.

  She wound her way through the crowd around the landeau. Soon enough, she managed to wiggle through until only a young lady in a high plumed, green bonnet stood in her way. Penelope could not squeeze past her, or even see past her. At last, in frustration, she let down the folding step and stood upon it. “Lady Tresham!” she said brightly. “How wonderful to see you again,” she said, over the bouncing green feather.

  The lady left off vying for her betrothed’s attention and gave Penelope a resigned look. “Miss Munroe. How unexpected.” She glanced down to where she stood on the step. “And so very intrepid. What are you doing in London?”

  “I’m here with friends. I’m so glad to have the chance to see you.”

  “Has Keswick brought his bride to see London? Have you tagged along?” she asked, disapproving.

  “No. Glory and Keswick are still in Ireland.”

  “Good for them,” she said with honest approval. “I do believe a long bridal trip is something every couple should experience, if they can.”

  “Oh, she does believe so,” Green Bonnet said with enthusiasm. “It’s what you plan for yourself, as well, isn’t it, my lady?” The younger lady leaned in and said confidingly, “Lady Tresham has told me that the bridal trip is more important than the wedding, in terms of a successful match.”

  “Has she?” Penelope quirked her mouth toward Lady Tresham, who merely shrugged.

  “Yes. And based on their plans to tour so many beautiful places, I believe she will be very happy indeed with Mr. Millbank,” Miss Green Bonnet enthused.

  “Indeed. We must hope so,” Penelope said, truthfully.

  “Did I hear her say that you are here on a bridal trip?” the young lady asked Penelope.

  “Oh, no.” She looked to Lady Tresham. “Lord Tensford had business in Town. He and the countess were kind enough to bring me with them.”

  Just the slightest start at Tensford’s name. That’s all that betrayed her. But Penelope caught it.

  “How nice for you,” Lady Tresham said coolly.

  “In fact, Lady Tensford and I were hoping to see you, while we are here. When I caught sight of you, I knew providence had intended for us to meet. You see, we went to your home and found that the address the countess had for you was outdated. Will you share your new one, so that I might take it back to her?”

  “Of course. How pleasant it will be, to visit again.” There was not even a note of sincerity in the woman’s tone. “Please, ask her to call upon me in Harley Street tomorrow afternoon.”

  Green Bonnet laughed gaily. “Oh, my lady! Your excitement over the approaching wedding has overset you! Your rooms are still on Sneade Court are they not? And even if they did go to Mr. Millbank’s home in Harley Street tom—”

  “Yes, of course you are right, my dear,” Lady Tresham interrupted. “I am not wed yet, in truth, although of course I am, in my heart.” She patted the girl’s hand. “Now, you may be sure I will write to you, but for now, Mr. Millbank and I simply must go and see to the wedding and travel preparations. Goodbye, my dear.” She listened and nodded as the girl made her heartfelt farewells, and when Green Bonnet had moved away, Lady Tresham looked to Penelope with a fixed smile upon her face. “Do ask the countess to find me in Sneade Court. I shall look forward to seeing her tomorrow.”

  “I will tell her. Good day, Lady Tresham.”

  The woman gave her betrothed a surreptitious kick.

  “Yes, yes! We’re off.” Mr. Millbank gave a nod to his friend and a general, encompassing wave to the rest of the crowd. “Goodbye,” he called to the lingerers. “Farewell!”

  Penelope stepped down. Folding the step back into place, she waved and thoughtfully watched as they drove away.

  “Miss Munroe!”

  She turned. It was far easier to make it back to Sterne’s gig as the crowd dispersed. He scooted over on the seat and gave her a hand back up to the bench and she quickly told him what had transpired.

  They looked at each other for a long moment.

  “You know what this means?” he said.

  “They’ll be long gone by tomorrow,” she said grimly.

  He nodded.

  “We’d better go now,” they said together.

  Chapter 9

  Sterne had to bite back a grin as he carefully steered them through the crowd. He’d never had a connection like this with a woman. Miss Munroe must be truly unique. She had a kind heart and a quick mind. She didn’t retreat into an uninterested daze when he spoke of his rituals, or react with distaste and disdain, even when he applied his theories to the behavior of the ton. And when it looked as if they might lose their quarry? She reacted with direct intent and common sense. She hadn’t let the strictures of Society bind her, but neither had she quite over-stepped them. She had got the job done. He admired her.

  You and I are the same.

  He pushed the echo of his own words away.

  “We’ll head east when we leave the park,” he said, to distract himself from any dangerous dwellings on her admirable qualities. “I believe Sneade Court is near Green Park.”

  She nodded.

  Drawing a deep breath, he girded his loins. “It would appear I owe you an apology. Certainly, Lady Tresham is behaving like she has something to hide.”

  She merely nodded again.

  He waited.

  “You have gone quiet again, Miss Munroe,” he said at last.

  “Penelope,” she said forcefully, turning to face him. “Don’t you think you could call me by my first name, at least in private? We kissed this morning.”

  Devil take it. Yes, they had kissed. He’d kissed her like he’d been thirsting for her. Like he’d been left staked in the desert for a month and she’d been a cool, clear pool of water. He’d wanted to dive into her.

  “It seems strange to go back to formality, after such a thing.”

  Strange, but so much wiser. But he couldn’t say it out loud. He nodded. “Of course. I would count it as an honor.” He grimaced. “No one calls me Barrett, however, save for my mother.”

  “Barrett.”

  It was another word entirely, coming from her. No ringing of demand or disapproval. She said it with . . . affection. With the smallest bit of what might even be termed . . . wonder. Now, perversely, he only wanted her to call him that.

  She bit her lip and frowned. He was caught. He couldn’t take his eyes from that plump lip, caught in the grip of her white teeth.

  A sudden lurch of his left-hand horse and a cursing shout from a vegetable carter snapped his attention back where it belonged.

  “Oh.” She slumped in her seat. Her thigh brushed his and he had to tell himself firmly not to scoot closer to her. “I’m doing this all wrong, aren’t I? It’s just . . . I saw those ladies back there, all polished and polite and perfect, and I’m suddenly convinced I will never fit in with them.”

  “You likely won’t,” he said bluntly.

  He was instantly sorry, as she looked stricken and suddenly vulnerable. “Those women,” he waved a dismissive hand. “They are far from perfect. Worse are the young girls who will descend upon the Town for the Season. Most of them are vain and shallow—and you are worth a hundred of them.”

  * * *

  Penelope’s heart stuttered with unexpected happiness. How could mere words be both soothing and arousing at once?

  �
�Perhaps I should practice my Society manners.” She faced fully forward again. “You can tell me when I go astray.” She cleared her throat. “How remiss of me. I have not yet admired your lovely set of matched bays.”

  He seemed relieved with the lighter subject, and for the chance to retreat back into polite conversation.

  “They are prime, are they not? I am fortunate that my uncle allows me to keep them in his stables.”

  Her interest stirred. He didn’t often talk of his family. “I recall you mentioned your uncle and his wife, once. You are close with them, you said?”

  “Very close.”

  “He is so well known for his work in the natural sciences. I assume your interests started with him?”

  “Yes. He started me young.” His grin was reflective—and appealing. “He is incredibly generous and has always supported me, in many ways.”

  Lord Whiddon’s words came back to her again. “Your friend Lord Whiddon made you sound quite driven, and of course I’ve seen evidence of your dedication, myself. You must wish to make your uncle proud and earn your own success in the field.”

  A moment of silence stretched out before he answered. “I do. Of course.”

  “I quite understand the feeling. I feel as if I am always trying to prove myself to my parents.”

  He glanced askance at her. “Forgive me, but I had the impression that your parents quite dote on you.”

  “Oh, they love me.” She sighed. “They just do not see me.” She looked away as they turned out of the park. “Never mind. I’m sure it’s not proper to speak of such troubles.”

  “I’m dismayed to discover you have them.”

  He sounded sincere. She wondered what he’d say if he discovered that he was what troubled her most, lately.

  “As you said, we are past formal niceties.” He gestured at the traffic that had only increased as they merged onto Piccadilly. “We’ve time, as we are stuck to this glacial pace. You might as well tell me.”

  She pursed her lips, thinking. “Perhaps I will, but only if it is to be an even exchange. Like we had in the parlor, at that inn.” She felt warm at the memory, and at the recollection of everything they’d exchanged this morning.”

  He hesitated.

  And her resolution firmed. She wanted to know him. She wanted them to know each other, to have the chance to explore how compatible they really were. But he had to meet her halfway. “As you said then, it’s only fair.”

  He hesitated again. He gazed ahead, clearly debating. “Perhaps we’d better not—” He glanced at her again.

  With a shrug, she faced the road ahead.

  He let out a groan and made a ferocious face. “Fine, then.”

  She resisted the urge to grin in triumph.

  “Your parents,” he urged.

  “My parents are . . . lovely, really,” she admitted. “My father indulges my mother and me. He undeniably loves me. But he cannot help but be disappointed in me.”

  “Impossible,” he declared. The certainty in his tone sent a shiver through her.

  “He doesn’t mean to be. But I am the only child—and I am female. We share some of the same interests and I can talk reasonably well about his passions—his horses, his lands and the people on it. But I see him look at me at times and he cannot hide the disbelief and the disappointment that I am not a boy. That he has no son. I will never carry on his name, his blood. I cannot care for or perpetuate his legacy.”

  “But there’s no entail on his holdings, surely? He can leave it all to you.”

  “I am given to understand that that is not the same.”

  “He never said so?”

  “Not to me. But I’ve heard him speaking to the tenants. I’ve seen the sympathetic commiserations of other landed men in the county. I’ve seen his eyes hungrily follow a cotter’s son as he trails after his father.”

  He made a sound of sympathy.

  “He doesn’t mean to hurt me. I know that. But we cannot always help what we feel.” How a true a lesson that was. It was being driven home to her right now, with every brush of her arm against his, with each jerk of the gig that had their knees bumping. It lived in the electric atmosphere between them that seemed to spark higher on this small bench.

  “The thing is,” she continued. “I know what he looks like when he’s regarding someone he loves wholly and unconditionally. He looks like that whenever he gazes at my mother. He adores her. And my mother . . .”

  “She has a certain reputation,” Sterne said gingerly.

  Penelope laughed. “Yes. It’s well earned, too. She’s brilliant. Her knowledge is extensive and of incredible depth. Her artistic talents are lauded far and wide. She is extremely dedicated to her work and to broadening and nurturing her wide collection of plants.”

  “It all sounds perfectly commendable.” He raised a brow at her. “And perhaps difficult to live with?”

  “Not to my father. He accepts her, worships her, even with all of her demands and foibles.” She gave him a level look. “But you said that with every indication of experience.”

  He lifted a shoulder, his eyes fixed now on the traffic in front of them.

  “By all accounts, your uncle is quite happily married.”

  “He is.”

  She waited.

  He held onto his grim silence.

  “Oh, come now. You promised.”

  He sighed. “I do spend a great deal of time in my uncle’s house. But he can only do so much for me without upsetting a delicate balance in the family. And he is not the only man of renown in the family. My father is quite a prominent politician in the Tory party.”

  “Oh! I apologize if I should have known.”

  “There’s no need. I only mention it because I am familiar with the look of disappointment you mentioned. It is quite the regular thing between my father and me. And worse, my sins are compounded, for while you cannot help being a female, I choose science over politics.”

  “Oh. Yes.” She understood. “That’s why you are so driven to succeed?”

  “To prove myself to my father? No. His scorn is complete. I could become the next Newton and he would sneer at my accomplishments.”

  “Goodness.”

  “He refuses to understand that I am as fascinated with my work as he is with political scheming and machinations. He values only power and influence. But I love the learning, the growing, the understanding that come with my studies.” His face hardened. “Don’t mistake me. I want the acclaim, too. I need the respect, the opportunities and the securities that come with it all.”

  He fell silent as the congestion freed a little and they began to make better progress. “As we near the park, keep an eye out for a livery,” he asked her.

  She barely registered the request. She was still trying to puzzle him out. She stared at the passing buildings for a bit, then frowned at his profile.

  “What is it?”

  “You love your work and you are even more driven to succeed at it than I suspected. I’m wondering why, then, you are willing to put it all aside for this search for Tensford’s fossil? I know you feel responsible, but I’ve also heard Tensford deny it.”

  His expression darkened. “I am one of the few who truly understand what a disappointment this loss was to Tensford. And while I may be reconciled to being counted a failure in my father’s eyes, I will never rest, knowing that I failed my friend. Never.”

  * * *

  He’d said too much. Or perhaps, not enough. Sterne sighed. Either way, he’d never be able to make her understand. How to explain that his friends had become more important, more necessary, than his family? Tensford and Keswick, Whiddon and Chester—even they might not realize all that they meant to him. How they’d saved him.

  Those four had provided his safest haven. With them he could relax. He could talk freely without fear of censure or disappointment or cold, biting silence. They had taught him to trust—both in their group and in himself. Had he ever had a bit of real confidence
before they’d formed their bond? Perhaps, but the moments had been few and far between. It was his friends who had given him the support he needed and the strength to grow into his own, to deny his father and pursue his own interests.

  And that was why he could not allow the taint of disappointment to continue. Tensford insisted he didn’t blame him, but Sterne blamed himself. His friend had asked something simple of him and he’d failed spectacularly. He couldn’t risk letting the stench of failure pollute their friendship. He needed it to stay strong, unspoiled and ever-present.

  She couldn’t understand, so he held his silence, maneuvering them through the traffic. He spotted a livery on a corner near to Green Park and just down the street from Lady Tresham’s address. He struck a bargain for a few hours’ shelter for the rig and bag of grain for the horses—and they were ready for their next bit of investigation.

  Offering Miss Munroe—Penelope—his arm, he escorted her down the busy street. She watched, wide-eyed, as the late afternoon commute began around them. The pavement was as crowded as the street, so he held her close until they made the turn and took the short alley that opened onto Sneade Court.

  “Which one?” she asked, facing the row of houses on three sides.

  “That one.” He motioned toward the partially loaded wagon that sat outside the corner house. As they moved toward it, the door opened, and a servant came out with a crate.

  When it was loaded, Sterne stepped up. “Has Lady Tresham arrived home yet?” he asked.

  The servant gave a respectful nod. “No, sir. Nor do we expect her before this evening.”

  He gave the man a sympathetic look. “I believe her plans have changed. I would expect her at any moment, were I you. We were to meet her here.” He glanced back at Penelope. “It would seem we’ve arrived before she could get home, my dear.”

  The servant looked alarmed. “She left orders to have everything loaded and ready to go when she returned, save for what her dresser kept back for her.”

  “Don’t let us delay you, man. Just show us to a parlor and we’ll wait, out of the way. I doubt she’ll be long.”