“I could come with you.” Clarissa stepped back, assessing her work. “Much better.”
Penny looked in the mirror, noting that neat coif coiled in twists at her nape. Only a few pieces floated around her face to soften her features, accentuating her high cheekbones. “My hair is much better and thank you, but no. You should stay here. Natty and Fran need you.”
Clarissa frowned. “We could all go. Wait in the carriage.”
Penny looked down at the floor. She didn’t plan to take a carriage. The address the duke had given her was on the west side, of course, but she’d walk. A hack would take valuable shillings they didn’t have. Inside, she sighed again but she didn’t allow Clarissa to hear her this time. Life was often difficult these days. And Clarissa was too young to help her bear that burden. “I’ll be fine, Clarissa. Keep working with the girls on their letters. And put on your shoes.”
“Why?” Clarissa sniffed, turning back toward the door.
“I’ve told you why. You need them to move on from us and live your life and—”
Clarissa wrinkled her nose. “I already have a job and a life. I educate the little ones. And I’m not getting married. You need me too much.”
And just like that, Clarissa was gone again.
It would be easier if that girl weren’t right so often. And how did Clarissa know she wouldn’t marry? Penny, despite the independent steps she’d taken, still sometimes wished for a husband to share her burden and provide a family of her own. But then she shook her head. That was never going to happen. She was already a spinster and her life was entrenched in these children’s needs. Still, sometimes she dreamed…
Penny rose and left her room, almost conceding and taking Clarissa. The company would be nice. She had a hard exterior, Clarissa, but underneath that was a soft heart. And Penny loved her for it.
Putting on her pelisse, she ignored the threadbare appearance as she buttoned it against the sharp fall wind. Then she set off, exiting her home and starting down the street. It would be a long walk. She looked at the slip of paper that held the name and address of the potential benefactor. The Earl of Goldthwaite. What an interesting name.
She could only hope he was the sort of man with a generous spirit and giving nature and that was why the duke had sent her to meet him.
Shadows were falling about the London streets when Logan finally returned home. He’d spent the afternoon in a series of Gentleman’s Clubs looking for potential partners. The search had proven fruitless.
The men he’d met were either nitwits, had no head for business, or an appetite for nothing but leisure. It didn’t help that he couldn’t outright tell them about the club. The sword of secrecy had made communication near impossible.
Now he wished for a bath, a meal, and bed—in that order. Of course, the stack of work that waited on his desk would have to be attended. Daring’s assignment was proving problematic already and for a brief moment, he considered leaving the venture all together. While he knew he could manage the work, the business of working with others might prove too difficult…
“My lord,” his butler greeted him at the front door, giving his employer a sharp frown of disapproval. “You’ve a visitor.”
“What?” he gritted out as he shrugged off his coat. He ignored the judgment from the other man, accustomed to his butler’s clucking nature. But what surprised him was the announcement that some person had come calling. No one visited him…ever. Unless it was his solicitor. All other business ventures were always conducted in neutral territory. An office, a club, or some such place.
It was part of his strategy. People were more comfortable in their own spaces, which was often an advantage.
The man’s eyebrows rose in what looked to be mild condemnation. “Miss Penny Walters. She had an appointment several hours ago. I encouraged her to reschedule, but she insisted on waiting.”
His eyes briefly closed before they snapped open again. Shit. He’d forgotten. Which was unlike him, but why in the bloody blue blazes would she stay all this time? Ridiculous.
And now he had far too much to do for how bone-tired he was. The last thing he needed was to delicately remove a female from his residence. “Where is she?”
“The front sitting room,” Winter responded, “Where she has waited with an excessive amount of patience.” Then the man folded his hands in front of him, his mouth turning down a bit deeper at the corners. His eyes gave the accusation his mouth had not.
Logan’s face hardened. Could this day get any worse? Was his own butler judging him now? The man was a bit unconventional, but he’d always been respectful.
Logan made an abrupt turn and started for the sitting room, annoyance hot under his collar. He had no temper for this meeting.
The door was slightly ajar, and he pushed it open with a satisfying bang, entering into the darkening room with all the subtlety of a herd of stampeding cattle. The gesture was meant to be less than welcoming and more like a clear message to get the hell out. He didn’t have the patience to be delicate.
The day had been beyond frustrating.
But if he’d frightened Miss Penny Walters with his display, she showed no sign. Her face was turned toward the window, her posture perfectly upright, her hands neatly folded in her lap. Her figure was trim, that was what he noticed first in the light spilling in from the hall. Very slowly, she turned to look at him, her features illuminated in the most breathtaking way.
He locked his gaze on her large eyes, fringed with long dark lashes. Then he lowered his gaze to take in her small straight nose, accented by high cheekbones and lush full lips. If he were honest, she stole his breath. Which was most likely why he’d yet to utter a word despite his grand entrance.
“Lord Goldthwaite?” she asked, rising slowly from her chair.
If he’d come in like a blustering idiot, she was the picture of serenity. Not that she filled him with calm. Because he realized, while she was trim she was also quite…curvy. Delightfully so. His gut clenched as his body responded. Was her hair as dark and as full as it appeared or was that the dim light?
“Yes,” he said after a moment’s hesitation.
She began crossing toward him, a smile on her face as she reached out a hand. She showed no sign of irritation that she’d been kept waiting for hours. “I’m very pleased to meet you. I am Miss Penny Walters and—”
“I know who you are.” His voice grated out. Was that his irritation or was it his desire that made him sound so guttural?
Her smile slipped for just a moment before she placed it firmly back in place. “A pleasure to meet you.”
He didn’t take her hand. “What are you doing here?”
She folded her hands once again. Her shoulders remained straight, her back stiff as she continued to smile. How did she maintain such sunny calm? His gaze flitted down her body once again. He couldn’t seem to help himself, but her words drew his eyes back up to hers.
“We had an appointment,” she said.
“My lord,” Winters called behind him. “May I enter to light more candles?”
Logan snapped his teeth together. “We don’t need candles. We won’t be long.” Truth be told, he wasn’t certain he wanted to see this woman in any more detail. Would she be as beautiful as he imagined or was partial shadow her friend? It was best he didn’t find out.