The Unexpected Bride (18 page)

The pounding of another set of hooves disturbed her thoughts. A rider, approaching at a gallop from the rear, by the sound. She felt George turn to glance over his shoulder as the newcomer drew close.

‘Chap’s in a big hurry.’ He pulled over a little.

The next few seconds were filled with confusion. There was a shattering explosion, swiftly followed by a startled yell from George. Something hurled her from the seat to the floor of the curricle.

‘Stay down Penny!’ Another explosion mingled with George’s frantic command. She could hear the terrified neighing of the horses as George fought to control them. The curricle swung madly as they plunged in fright, attempting to bolt. Penelope clung to George’s legs as she crouched on the floor. Gelert was barking furiously and she could hear the other horse galloping away at top speed. Gelert’s barks receded into the distance.

Gradually George calmed the greys until they stood sweating and restless in the road. He looked around, but their assailant had made good his escape. Gelert had chased him, but his instinct to stay with Penelope
had obviously prevailed and he was coming back. George looked down at Penelope.

‘Are you all right? He’s gone. You can get up.’ He helped her back onto the seat. Then he caught sight of her bonnet. The left side of the brim was in tatters. He stared in horror and swore savagely. Penelope, still confused and uncertain about what had happened, was taken aback.

‘What happened, George?’ she asked in shaky tones.

‘Someone shot at us. Or rather, at you!’

‘Shot at me? Have you gone mad? What on earth for?’

George did not answer immediately. ‘We’d better go home and tell Peter,’ he said, and put the greys into a trot.

‘George! Why did someone shoot at me? You must tell me!’ Penelope was close to tears of fright and anger.

Resigning himself to the inevitable, George glanced at her and said, ‘I suppose I’d better, but Peter isn’t going to like it.’

‘Did Peter know about it?’

‘Well, obviously neither of us thought there could be any danger on the estate!’ said George defensively. He continued, ‘How much did Peter tell you about his heir, Jack Frobisher?’

‘Not much. Peter told me that he doesn’t like him. That was why he married me. To stop Mr Frobisher inheriting the title.’ Penelope blushed as she said this.

‘That is probably the explanation for this attack. Frobisher is in financial difficulty. He’s counting on Peter’s money. You, as Peter’s wife, could be a danger to his plans. I warned Peter last night that the pair of
you could be in danger, but we didn’t think there could be any trouble here. Or that an attack would be so direct. Don’t worry, Penny. We’ll get home and Peter will sort it out.’

‘He wasn’t a very good shot,’ said Penelope, trying gallantly to lighten the atmosphere.

George laughed shortly. ‘If he’d been any better Peter would be a widower again! Feel the brim of your bonnet, Penny!’

‘P
eter, may I speak to you for a moment?’

Darleston looked up from his desk, surprised at his wife’s entrance and the note of distress in her voice. She rarely sought him out willingly. He looked at her closely. The slim hand resting on Gelert’s collar was trembling slightly. He rose and went to her, taking her hand to lead her to the sofa.

‘Come, sit down, Penelope. Something is upsetting you? Tell me what it is.’

She sat down obediently but remained silent, unsure how to begin. Would he rebuff her, or, worse, be very angry with George? Peter sat beside her, watching the play of emotion on her face. Yet again he cursed himself for setting her at a distance. If only she were not so reserved with him, he thought. Almost without realising what he was doing he took her hand in both of his and held it lightly, one thumb caressing the soft palm. She felt again the strange yearning that swept over her whenever he touched her. Why did she feel this way? He didn’t really care about her, did he?

‘Come, Penny, it can’t be that bad, surely! Did George overturn the curricle?’ The gentle note in his
voice almost made her cry. Why couldn’t he always be like this?

She smiled tremulously. ‘No, Peter. George drives as well as you do.’

‘I’m glad to hear it, since they were my horses he was driving! Tell me what it is. I promise I won’t be angry with you!’

‘Or with George?’

The question startled Peter. What on earth did she mean? Surely George had not made advances to her. He stared at her. So that was why she was upset! He released her hand abruptly and stood up, scarcely able to trust his voice. ‘Go on, you had better tell me.’

Penelope heard the suppressed anger and said bravely, ‘You must not blame George. It was not his fault, Peter.’

‘That I can well believe. I said you were being too friendly.’ Penelope blinked in surprise, unable to follow his meaning at first. Then, as the reason for his anger dawned, she blushed. Peter noted this cynically but made no comment.

Penelope fought down the impulse to retreat, leave the room without telling him. Only the realisation that if he went to George in this mood it could destroy their friendship held her.

‘George told me about your cousin, the threats he has made and the money he has borrowed. Is it true that he is trying to kill you, Peter?’

Peter was stunned. ‘What? George must be insane to tell you about that! It’s little more than conjecture at this stage.’

‘He didn’t have much choice, Peter. Someone shot at us while we were out driving. Look!’ She held out her ruined bonnet. It was removed from her grasp by
hands that seemed to tremble. ‘Peter, I’m sorry to interfere with your private affairs, but this involves me too.’

He didn’t answer at once. He didn’t trust his voice and simply stared at the bonnet, realising just how close the shot had come to killing Penelope. Then he dropped the bonnet, taking Penelope into his arms to hold her tightly. ‘Oh, my God!’ he whispered in a strangled voice. He did not try to analyse his feelings. All he knew was that the thought of Penelope lying dead due to his stupidity filled him with shame and horror.

Penelope gave an odd little sigh of relief as she rested her cheek on his shoulder. She could feel the strength of his arms and knew herself to be safe. They were silent for a moment before Peter spoke. ‘I’m sorry, Penny, this is my fault. I should have warned you last night but all I did was insult you. I’m not a very good husband in any sense of the word.’

Her reply startled him. ‘Don’t be an idiot, Peter! George knew, but he still took me driving. He didn’t think there would be any trouble if we stayed on the estate, and if I’d known I would have agreed. How could it possibly be your fault?’

Peter felt doubly shamed by her generosity and said bitterly, ‘If I had taken the least thought for you as my wife I would have told you, forbidden you to leave the house and gardens until this mess was cleared up! Instead I lost my temper because I was jealous!’

Penelope gasped in amazement and struggled out of his embrace. ‘Jealous? How can you possibly be
jealous
when you don’t even like me! You made it quite clear after that first day. You avoided me, and every time I tried to talk to you at all you snubbed me! Then
at other times you were friendly and…and kind. Peter, I don’t know what to think!’

Peter was silent. What could he say? He had only himself to blame if she was confused about his attitude towards her. Eventually he spoke. ‘Neither do I, Penny.’

‘I’m sorry, Peter, but I’m not Melissa! Just because one woman betrayed you doesn’t mean I will. I don’t expect you to love me, but couldn’t you at least trust me, even if I do disgust you?’ Penelope was crying now. She fumbled for her handkerchief as Peter’s arms closed around her again, gently rocking her back and forth.

Peter wondered if anyone else had ever made such a mess of a marriage as he had managed to make of his.

‘How could you disgust me, Penny, you idiot? If anything I would have thought that my behaviour must have disgusted
you.’

Her answer was barely audible through her tears. ‘You k-kissed me that first day, and after that we went back to the house and you were different. You wouldn’t talk to me, so I thought I must have done something you didn’t like. All I could think of was that you didn’t like it when I kissed you back. And the other time you kissed me, you…you pushed me away, so I thought I must be doing something wrong.’

He felt ashamed of himself. ‘You didn’t disgust me, Penny, I promise you, and I
did
like it when you kissed me. It was my fault for being so suspicious of you as a woman, but also I didn’t want to force you into my bed, despite what I said initially.’

‘But you said that you wanted an heir…and…that…you wanted me…’ She stopped, embar
rassed, then continued bravely, ‘I do not want to be your wife in name only, but in…in truth, and I thought that was what you wanted.’

Peter took her face between the palms of his hands and kissed her gently on the mouth. ‘It is what I want, Penny, and not just because I want an heir, but because I want you. That is what scared me so much and made me behave so stupidly. I’m sorry Penny, will you forgive me?’

Penelope nodded, unable to speak, with the tears still on her cheeks. Peter took the handkerchief and dried her eyes. ‘Come along, Penny, bed for you. We’ll discuss all this tomorrow. Sleep this afternoon. I’ll bring your dinner to you on a tray and sit with you this evening. You’ve had a terrible shock and must rest. George can tell me exactly what happened. He must be in quite a state!’ Then, as the possibility occurred to him, ‘My God, he’s not hurt, is he?’

‘No, I should have told you at once!’ said Penelope rather indignantly. ‘He saved my life, I think,’ she continued. ‘He must have seen the man, because he shouted and pushed me off the seat.’

‘Thank God for George!’ said Peter, and gathered her into his arms.

Late that night Peter woke with the odd feeling that someone had cried out. He sat up in the moonlight to listen but at first he could hear nothing. He was about to lie down again when it occurred to him that Penelope might have cried out in her sleep. She had slept all afternoon and he had had his dinner with her in her bed-chamber. Knowing that she was still shaken by the attack, he had ignored her avowal that she was well enough to get up for dinner.

‘Just remember that you promised to obey me and stop arguing!’

‘But what about George? You can’t leave him to fend for himself! He’s a guest!’

‘He’s not a guest! He’s my best friend, and I shudder to think what he’d say if I left you alone this evening, especially since you wouldn’t let me send for Ellen! Besides, he’s not fending for himself! The entire staff, and Meadows in particular, is treating him as a hero!’

Penelope had given up, and Peter was fairly sure she’d been grateful for his company. He had read to her until she fell asleep again. Then he had quietly blown out the lamp and retired to his own room, leaving the door open.

After a moment’s hesitation he got out of bed and pulled on his dressing gown, a luxurious affair of deep red brocade. He moved softly to the connecting door and looked through. The moon was shining directly into the room. He could see that Penelope’s bedclothes were tumbled and that she was very restless. As he stepped into the room she murmured his name in a distressed tone. Hesitantly he went to the bed to place a gentle hand upon her brow, wondering if she were ill. The cool skin assured him that she was not feverish, merely dreaming, and he attempted to straighten the covers for her.

As he did so, she cried out in fright at her dream. ‘Peter, help me! Lost—can’t see…where are you?’ The note of anguish in her voice touched Peter’s heart to the core. He wanted to comfort her but was reluctant to wake her.

Making up his mind quickly, he slipped into the bed
and took her in his arms, whispering, ‘It’s all right Penny, it’s just a dream, you’re safe, shh.’

Waking, she turned in his arms murmuring, ‘Peter?’

‘Yes, little one. It’s all right, go back to sleep.’ With a relieved sigh she relaxed against him. He smiled to himself as he rested his cheek upon her hair, enjoying the faint smell of lavender that hung about it and the feel of her body pressed to him. Gently he caressed the curve of her hip and felt her quiver responsively.

Gazing down at her loveliness in the moonlight, he wondered if he dared stay. He was agonisingly aware of his own desire and knew he would not be able to control himself for long. Reluctantly he gathered himself to go.

Penelope felt the withdrawal and, gathering all her courage, put her arms around him.

‘Peter?’

‘Yes.’

‘Must you go? Won’t you stay with me?’

He hesitated, then said quietly, ‘Penny, you are a very lovely woman and I am only a man, not a saint. If I stay any longer I will make love to you. Do you want that?’

‘That’s why I want you to stay. Please, Peter, I…I want to be your wife…if…if you want me…’

He stared down at her. Her face was turned up to his pleadingly. Unable to deny himself any longer, he kissed her tenderly. His lips dwelt briefly on hers before travelling sensuously down the column of her throat, burning a trail of fire on the soft skin. He heard her gasp with pleasure at the sensation and began to undo the buttons on the front of her nightgown.

When he had dealt with them all he sat up, pulling Penelope with him. Restraining his urge to tear the
filmy gown from her body, he slipped it off her shoulders, revealing the perfection of her creamy, rose-tipped breasts. Cupping one in his hand, he caressed it lightly before taking her mouth again. He felt her tremble as he kissed her and her mouth yielded under his. Dizzy with passion, he slid his tongue between her parted lips to explore the honeyed sweetness of her mouth. His hands moved possessively over her slim body, touching her with growing intimacy.

The nightgown was definitely in the way, he decided, and he felt himself to be distinctly overdressed for the occasion. He moved back from her to remove these impediments more easily, but she clung to him and begged, “Don’t stop. Please, don’t leave me now!”

“I couldn’t if I tried, Penny,” he said, his voice rough with desire. “But I’m not going to make love to you in my dressing gown! Will you help me take it off?” He guided her hand to the cord which tied the garment. Her inexperienced fingers fumbled with the knot, finally releasing it. Free of the dressing gown, Peter removed Penelope’s nightdress completely and pressed her back against the pillows.

She lay acquiescent in the moonlight and he drew a shaky breath at the sight of her loveliness. He lowered himself beside her to take her in his arms, pulling her against his aroused body. She was still shaking, and it occurred to him that she might well be frightened by his passion. He held her tenderly, stroking the dark red curls back from her flushed face. ‘Don’t be scared of me. I swear I’ll be gentle. Trust me, Penny.’

For an answer she slipped her arms about him and pressed herself closer, lifting her mouth to his. Peter responded to the mute invitation, his lips moving demandingly on hers and then down her throat. His
hands teased and caressed, drifting over the delicate curve of her waist, her stomach and on to her slender thigh.

At first she simply clung to him, trembling in ecstasy, still unsure of herself. Then her desire to give him as much pleasure as he was giving her took over. Instinctively she copied his actions, tentatively exploring his body. Her hands discovered the powerful muscles of his shoulders and chest, the flat plane of his stomach.

Her light caresses stirred Peter’s senses nearly to madness. Gently he grasped her hand to lead it still lower, until she touched him intimately. The heated evidence of his desire was almost frightening.

‘Peter?’ She was a little scared, uncertain of what he wanted.

He heard the nervousness in her voice and was swift to reassure her. ‘Like this, sweetheart. Don’t be scared,’ he murmured, and showed her.

Delighted with the results of her exploration, Penelope became bolder in her efforts to please him. His pleasure in her shy advances was intense. It was all he could do to keep himself under control and not take her immediately. He did not want to rush her. Instinctively he knew that she was still unsure of herself, knew that it would be only too easy to frighten her if he lost command of himself.

Groaning in pleasure, he lowered his mouth to her breast, circling and tantalising the rosy peak until she cried out in longing. Then, and only then, he slid his hand between her silken thighs to the very centre of her passion. He could barely restrain himself from possessing her at once when he discovered the tender flower of her virginity, already damp with the dew of
desire. Not yet! He prayed for control. Dear God, don’t let me hurt her or frighten her! He caressed her gently and took her mouth again, feeling it tremble as he acquainted himself with her sweetness.

Penelope moaned in total surrender as he stroked her intimately. She could not think, only feel, as he roused her senses to madness with his touch. His lips claimed hers again, passionate and demanding as he continued his exquisite assault on her body. Her delicate breasts were crushed against his muscular torso as she writhed against him in wordless ecstasy, her hips lifting instinctively.