Time After Time (118 page)

She stiffened. “No one is to call my fiancé that horrid name in my presence. Is that understood, Mr. Henson?”

Mr. Henson’s brows rose, making him look like a startled rat. “We are only trying to make sure our bargain is still in place. Now that the earl is here, we are assuming your family no longer needs an extension.”

Her stomach reeled with dread. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, Miss Maitland, we have been extremely patient thus far, and our patience is at an end.”

“Well, this is unexpected.”

“No doubt,” Mr. Henson agreed. “But then so is the fact that we are dealing with you instead of your stepfather or your fiancé. Surely this is a man’s business, and I’ve had enough of your delaying payment.” Mr. Henson sneered at her. “Does Lord Ravenstone even know about the dire situation your family is in?”

She bristled. “Of course he does. He’s my fiancé.”

“Then why isn’t he here to talk to us?”

“He isn’t here,” she replied, her voice crisp as a dawn breeze, “because this is a matter for my family to settle. Since my stepfather and mother are away, I am acting in their stead.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to deal with me, whether you like it or not, Mr. Henson.”

Mr. Henson gave her a look of distaste. “Such atrocious manners. No wonder your uncle threw you out of Maitland Hall.”

She let that insult pass. “Is there any way we could talk of an extension? I promise you we’ll be able to come up with the money.”

Mr. Henson’s greedy eyes gleamed. “There is one way I can give you an extension.” He gave her a scathing look. “There’s nothing you can offer I would want, but your pretty little sister might be able to sway me.”

“You will stay away from my sister, Mr. Henson.”

Mr. Henson blinked. “I fail to see why you are being so missish. My proposal is no different from the Smithfield bargain you have with Ravenstone.” The sly smile on his gaunt features transformed his face from that of a startled rat to a disgusting lizard. “It’s definitely a far better deal than what your little Sarah will have if you don’t pay up. She’ll end up selling her services on the streets before the year ends.”

“Get out,” Penelope said quietly. She had known Mr. Henson was reprehensible but until now, she didn’t actually think he was a monster. She recalled that Mr. Henson was rumored to have exotic appetites, and it had landed him on the dueling field more than once. Since he was alive and well, sitting in her library, she could only assume he’d gotten away with his sins. How could Grandfather have stomached dealing with this man?

“Out?” Mr. Henson was incredulous. “This is to be my house soon. There is no way your family can make the payment on time.”

“Your house?” she asked. “Aren’t you forgetting Mr. Stickford?”

“He owed me money, and I’ve agreed to take his share of the profits from your grandfather’s loan as payment.”

Penelope stood. “It is not your house yet, Mr. Henson. Now, leave. You can come back when you feel more polite.”

Mr. Henson slapped his hat on his head. “I’m leaving. But I will be back in two days, and I expect payment then.” He walked out of the room. Mr. Stickford gave her a helpless look before silently following.

As soon as the door closed behind them, she collapsed on the wingback chair. Her mind reeled as she tried to come up with solutions and delaying tactics, but none seemed to be forthcoming.

Her little scheme hadn’t worked. She had let everyone down, and they were on the verge of being homeless. Her family, Gertie and the rest of the servants, Nelson and the animals in the barn — all of them trusted her, and she had failed them.

Her gaze fell on the suit of armor adorning a corner in the library.

She had to find Lucas.

• • •

A shot rang out through the valley, agitating the birds pecking peacefully on the ground.

“Nice shot, Ravenstone!” Colin remarked with an admiring smile.

Lucas lowered his pistol. “I aim to please,” he quipped. “It’s your turn. Remember what I told you: use the bump at the end of the barrel as a guide to the target.”

At Colin’s nod, he continued with his instructions. “Now, lift the pistol until the target is sitting on top of the bump.”

As the lad lifted the pistol, he added, “Slow and steady, Colin. I don’t want you accidentally blowing your head off.” He watched Colin adjust his aim. Lucas had been tutoring Penelope’s brother in the library for most of the three days since he moved into Highfield Manor. Today, however, the lad seemed as frustrated as Lucas was of being indoors, so he decided to take Colin outside for some target practice.

“It’s really kind of you to teach me how to shoot. When the boys in the village find out, maybe they’ll let me join their hunting parties.”

He glanced at the boy. “It was nothing. You’re the man of the house while your father is at work, so you have to know how to protect your women.”

“I would much rather spend time outside the house,” Colin muttered. “Polly and Sarah are good fun, but all my friends are at school.” He shrugged. “Someday, I’ll be able to go back.”

Lucas had been only a year older than Colin when Father had killed himself and he’d had to stop going to school to take over the estate. It had taken a few years before he was able to go to university. He realized Colin must be as lonely as Lucas had been at that age, with tons of responsibility and no one to talk to. Colin needed to learn to be a man, and no one was there to show him how.

In the beginning, Lucas thought of tutoring the boy as merely a way to pass the time while he rusticated in the country, but it had soon become clear his future brother-in-law had a sharp mind.

It was a shame Colin had to quit school
, Lucas thought as he began reloading his pistol.

Once he and Penelope were married, he’d make certain the boy got the proper education he deserved. He told himself it was only practical to make sure his future wife’s family was educated decently. They were to be associated with his family, after all. It was, therefore, imperative they have a status of living that was beyond reproach. But it was impossible to remain unmoved when every day Lucas saw how the family pulled together to make ends meet.

He’d never seen such a united group, and they welcomed him into their fold as if it were his due. It had been a long time since he had belonged to any sort of group — he’d felt comfortable and safe in his solitary ways.

But the eccentric Walkers would have none of his self-imposed isolation. They knocked on his door. They asked him for advice. They politely ordered him about. They made him feel accepted, as though he had nothing to prove to them.

If only he could feel accepted by his fiancée
.

He scowled. He’d been the perfect gentleman for the last few days, trying to convince Penelope to trust him, and he’d never been more frustrated in his entire life. He’d dared to do nothing more than hold her hand in public, and she’d avoided him in private. As a result, he had developed an unhealthy fixation with those hands of hers.

He obsessed about how perfectly they fit in his and the softness of her creamy skin. He’d seen the gentle way those hands healed her clients’ ungrateful cattle, and he’d grown hot and hard as a rock each time he saw those hands stroking her patients. She had such pretty hands
.

Lucas wanted those hands on him.

He dreamed about having his mouth on those elegant fingers, licking and sucking them until she moaned. He ached to kiss that adorable little scar on the back of her left hand, the one she got when a neighbor’s nervous cat scratched her. To have her delicate little fist wrapped around his —

He groaned and looked out over the sleepy rolling hills of Highfield Manor and the bordering woodlands beyond. The woman was driving him mad! Just like the goddess Circe, whom she resembled, his fiancée had turned him into a beast. If he didn’t take caution, she’d have him begging for her touch like her slobbering, besotted border collie.

Another shot rang out, interrupting his thoughts.

“I missed!” Colin groaned.

Lucas shifted his gaze to the target. “That’s common for beginners. Here, try again.” He handed over his pistol.

Colin looked at him curiously before taking it. “Can I ask you something, Ravenstone?”

“As long as the question doesn’t involve where babies come from,” he replied, half-serious.

“What will you do if Polly decides not to marry you?”

Damn
. He thought Colin wanted to ask him something about shooting. “She
will
marry me.”

“But what if she — ”

“She’ll marry me,” he repeated in a firmer tone. Then he gave Colin an amused look. “You don’t seem to hold a lot of faith in my abilities.”

“It’s not that. Well, you must have noticed Polly’s not like most women,” Colin remarked, checking his pistol. Then he looked straight at Lucas. “Why do you want to marry her?”

Wasn’t the answer obvious?
“She’s my fiancée.”

“Yes, but you didn’t ask for her. Surely there are other women you can marry. Prettier ones. Ones who are not so bossy. Or eccentric. Or poor.” The last bit was said in a low voice that, nevertheless, hinted of wounded dignity.

“Or have insolent little brothers,” he added to the list. “I’ve made my decision to marry your sister. So it doesn’t matter what other women are like, does it?”

“I s’pose,” Colin shrugged, finally turning to face the target.

He let out a breath, glad the questioning was over. He could hardly say he was marrying Penelope because he needed a wife to retain his estates and fulfill Father’s need for vengeance as stated by the terms of his will. And the thought of her marrying someone other than him twisted Lucas’s stomach into knots.

He had to change tactics
.
Perhaps he should stop playing the gentleman and just compromise her. Slake his thirst. She would have no choice but to marry him then. That would end his stupid obsession with her. He wouldn’t be spending endless nights pacing outside her bedchamber, torturing himself with images of her in bed, sleeping. He would finally be able to go back to his orderly life.

But the nymph would be his. Permanently. He smiled at the thought. It would serve the scheming little chit right.

Perhaps, once they were married, Penelope would learn to care for him with the same devotion she showed her family and the animals she cared for. The thought of her worriedly nursing him back to health with kisses and caresses made his blood sing.

A shout from somewhere in the direction of the manor made both him and Colin whirl toward the sound. And there, standing in the middle of the open field with the sunlight caressing her lovely, indignant features, was the object of his obsession.

“What is going on out here?” Penelope demanded as she strode toward them.

Colin backed up, tripping on the picnic basket Cook had insisted they bring with them. “Ravenstone was teaching me how to shoot, so I can protect you while Papa’s away on his rounds with patients,” he answered when she reached them.

She bristled. “You never needed to shoot before, and you don’t need to now!” She snatched the pistol from her brother’s hand, ignoring Colin’s protests.

Lucas was suddenly paralyzed with fear. Penelope was holding a loaded pistol, clearly with no idea how to handle it. He’d seen young men injured, and worse, from such a stupid act.

“Polly,” Colin cajoled, holding his hands up. “I can assure you Ravenstone is knowledgeable with firearms — ”

She whirled on Lucas like an enraged woodland fairy, her faded ivory and sage gown swirling around her. “You should have known better than to give my brother a dangerous weapon!” She brandished the pistol in his direction.

Good God, she looked amazing when riled
. Her hazel eyes shone bright in the midday sun, and her cheeks were flushed pink. Her pretty breasts heaved with each angry breath that passed through her parted lips. Would she be as fiery in his bed? He was certain she would be.

“I can’t believe you’d do this, Colin!” Penelope choked out, hysterical. “When I think of how I felt hearing those shots, and then
seeing
you with a pistol — ” She waved the weapon again.

Another shot rang through the valley. This time it was accompanied by an astonished howl of pain. His.

“Oh my God,” Penelope whispered.

“You shot him!” Colin cried.

“Oh my God … ” Penelope repeated.

Lucas held his left arm, aware that he was more shocked than hurt. The little idiot had
shot
him!

Penelope laid the pistol carefully on the ground then slowly approached as he continued to clutch his arm, his bewilderment slowly giving in to simmering rage.

She swallowed. “Lucas? Let me look at your arm.” She reached for him but stopped when he let her see his thunderous expression.

“If you are wise, Penelope,” he warned, “you will run as fast as you can and avoid me for the next fifty years.”

She seemed to register the threat in his voice
.
“Don’t be silly, Lucas. Let me have a look at your arm.” She walked toward him again.

“Ummm, Polly … maybe you should heed his lordship’s advice,” Colin croaked.

“Lucas will never hurt me.”

She seemed so certain of her opinion, and only she knew why. In the mood he was in, he was likely to throttle her if she came any nearer.

“You shot me,” he said quietly.

“Yes, but I didn’t mean to. I swear it. I’m sorry, Lucas.” She gave him a helpless look. “I wanted to talk to you about something, and I shouldn’t have got all riled up. Please stop glaring at me.”

“You
shot
me!” he roared.

“I know. I’m really sorry,” she said in a soothing tone.

Oddly enough, her gentle voice started to work on him like a balm. Then the absurdity of the situation hit him.

“You’re
sorry
?” he sputtered. “You don’t
apologize
after you’ve shot someone.” He advanced on her. “People apologize after they’ve spilled someone’s drink, or stepped on someone’s toes.” He took a deep breath, trying to regain control. It didn’t work. “
You
don’t apologize after you’ve shot someone!”