warn me next time Miss Harvey is expected, and I shall spend the evening at my club.”
The Earl sighed and wondered if he were indeed being too harsh. But he had had to be both father and brother to Charles, who seemed to tumble into an endless succession of scrapes. He was constantly having to be rescued from one hell after another—where he was usually found dead drunk and with his pockets to let. His friends often belonged to the fringes of society but, to date, they had all been men. Thinking of Charles’s friends, the Earl suddenly recollected something and frowned.
“I hear that the Comte de Chernier was staying at the Courtlands as a houseguest. I am surprised at the Courtlands giving house room to such a shady emigré. He has been seen in your company too. I would avoid that one, dear Charles. We may have ceased hostilities with France, but Bonaparte will never give up while he lives, and he is reported to have spies in London. The Comte must know that we have many friends in the higher echelons of the army.”
Charles had turned paper white. “First you damn my lady friends and now you accuse a member of the French nobility of being a Bonapartiste spy. Well, let me tell you this, Roger, I shall choose my own friends and if you continue in this vein, I shall leave this house forever!”
“Think about what I have said,” replied the Earl, looking at his brother sadly. “I am concerned for your welfare, Charles, that is all. There now. Let us say no more. Shall we join the… er… ladies?”
As soon as Penelope and Miss Harvey had been ushered into the drawing room, Penelope waited until the butler had retired and then turned and faced her aunt.
“I cannot go on with it,” she said firmly while Augusta stared in amazement to see her niece so incensed. “Yes, I hope to find a husband this Season, but I will not prostitute myself, madam, in front of a sneering aristocrat who obviously thinks we are lower than the dirt beneath his feet. Oh, he noticed your winks and leers and smiles. I believe you have succeeded in convincing the Earl that I would suit as his mistress.
“I agreed to do the best I could, knowing nothing of the world, and thinking that such bold tactics, so repugnant to my nature, were the way of the world. But one look at the Earl’s face and I knew they would not serve. I am aware I am entirely dependent on your charity, madam, but I will
not
humiliate myself in such a fashion!”
Penelope paused for breath, her cheeks flushed and her eyes blazing.
“Don’t be in such a taking,” said Miss Harvey, backing off a step. “You refine too much on things.” Augusta thought furiously. She would love to turn this impertinent baggage out of doors, but the money she had already spent on the scheme should not—could not—go to waste so quickly.
She stretched her crocodile smile to its widest. “Perhaps I
was
too forward,” she said with an awful laugh. “But, you see, I have your welfare at heart and was anxious to secure a good marriage for you. Forgive me, my dear. You can’t blame me for wanting the best for you.”
Penelope was immediately contrite. “I am sorry, Aunt, if I have been unjust. I shall try to do my best to please you—but fling myself at the feet of that… that… red-haired, white-faced Lord, I will not!”
“There, there,” said Augusta. “Why don’t you play a little something on the pianoforte, dear, and we won’t say any more about it.”
Penelope gratefully sat down on the music stool and began to play a piece by Scarlatti with exquisite precision, while Augusta plumped down in an armchair and thought furiously. Penelope was right. The Earl
had
looked disgusted. She had played her hand too quickly and too fast. She had thought that her wealth would have been enough to convince any Lord that his intentions toward her niece must be honorable, but that did not seem to be the case. Augusta reluctantly came to the conclusion that she must do something
The Earl sighed and wondered if he were indeed being too harsh. But he had had to be both father and brother to Charles, who seemed to tumble into an endless succession of scrapes. He was constantly having to be rescued from one hell after another—where he was usually found dead drunk and with his pockets to let. His friends often belonged to the fringes of society but, to date, they had all been men. Thinking of Charles’s friends, the Earl suddenly recollected something and frowned.
“I hear that the Comte de Chernier was staying at the Courtlands as a houseguest. I am surprised at the Courtlands giving house room to such a shady emigré. He has been seen in your company too. I would avoid that one, dear Charles. We may have ceased hostilities with France, but Bonaparte will never give up while he lives, and he is reported to have spies in London. The Comte must know that we have many friends in the higher echelons of the army.”
Charles had turned paper white. “First you damn my lady friends and now you accuse a member of the French nobility of being a Bonapartiste spy. Well, let me tell you this, Roger, I shall choose my own friends and if you continue in this vein, I shall leave this house forever!”
“Think about what I have said,” replied the Earl, looking at his brother sadly. “I am concerned for your welfare, Charles, that is all. There now. Let us say no more. Shall we join the… er… ladies?”
As soon as Penelope and Miss Harvey had been ushered into the drawing room, Penelope waited until the butler had retired and then turned and faced her aunt.
“I cannot go on with it,” she said firmly while Augusta stared in amazement to see her niece so incensed. “Yes, I hope to find a husband this Season, but I will not prostitute myself, madam, in front of a sneering aristocrat who obviously thinks we are lower than the dirt beneath his feet. Oh, he noticed your winks and leers and smiles. I believe you have succeeded in convincing the Earl that I would suit as his mistress.
“I agreed to do the best I could, knowing nothing of the world, and thinking that such bold tactics, so repugnant to my nature, were the way of the world. But one look at the Earl’s face and I knew they would not serve. I am aware I am entirely dependent on your charity, madam, but I will
not
humiliate myself in such a fashion!”
Penelope paused for breath, her cheeks flushed and her eyes blazing.
“Don’t be in such a taking,” said Miss Harvey, backing off a step. “You refine too much on things.” Augusta thought furiously. She would love to turn this impertinent baggage out of doors, but the money she had already spent on the scheme should not—could not—go to waste so quickly.
She stretched her crocodile smile to its widest. “Perhaps I
was
too forward,” she said with an awful laugh. “But, you see, I have your welfare at heart and was anxious to secure a good marriage for you. Forgive me, my dear. You can’t blame me for wanting the best for you.”
Penelope was immediately contrite. “I am sorry, Aunt, if I have been unjust. I shall try to do my best to please you—but fling myself at the feet of that… that… red-haired, white-faced Lord, I will not!”
“There, there,” said Augusta. “Why don’t you play a little something on the pianoforte, dear, and we won’t say any more about it.”
Penelope gratefully sat down on the music stool and began to play a piece by Scarlatti with exquisite precision, while Augusta plumped down in an armchair and thought furiously. Penelope was right. The Earl
had
looked disgusted. She had played her hand too quickly and too fast. She had thought that her wealth would have been enough to convince any Lord that his intentions toward her niece must be honorable, but that did not seem to be the case. Augusta reluctantly came to the conclusion that she must do something
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