Time After Time (116 page)

Lucas saw the dangerous spark in Penelope’s hazel eyes, and he acted swiftly to prevent her from causing any sort of mischief. “She told me she deserves to be courted properly, and I completely agree,” he said, reciting one of the lines of dialogue Penelope had suggested in her note. “That means we’ll also have some time to get to know each other a little better before we marry.”

“Well, it would certainly be nice for you to get to know us, son,” Dr. Walker intoned. “But we already know all there is to know about you.”

Dr. Walker grinned when he gave a start. “You didn’t know that, did you? Our Polly has researched you as thoroughly as she does our medical cases. Of course, that was years ago, when we all believed you were going to come for her.” Dr. Walker scowled. “You are very late, Ravenstone.”

Lucas felt an odd sense of loss when Penelope let go of his hand.

“Really, Papa,” she said. “That comment is hardly appropriate for polite conversation.”

He claimed Penelope’s hand again, knowing it would be advantageous to show a united front. Besides, he liked holding her hand. But he owed her stepfather an explanation. He gave it now without hesitation. “I apologize for not coming here sooner,” he said sincerely. “If I had known I would be welcome here, I would have come years before.”

“Years before?” Dr. Walker echoed. “Don’t you mean before you became known as Raving Ravenstone?”

“Papa!” Penelope burst out. “That is enough. I would not have you or anyone refer to his lordship by that horrible name. I’ll have you remember he’s our guest here.”

At that moment, Eleanor reentered the room. “Supper is ready,” she announced with a smile. “Ravenstone, why don’t you escort Penelope?”

“I would be honored, Mrs. Walker,” he murmured as he helped Penelope to her feet. He waited for everyone to begin entering the dining room before moving. “Your stepfather does not seem to be fond of me,” he whispered to her.

“He’s a good man,” she whispered back. “He’s just been working really hard the past couple of years, and he’s always tired.” She glared at him. “Besides, he didn’t say anything untrue. You did take much too long to come for me.”

“I know, my dear,” he admitted. “But I am here now, and I pity any fool who would try to take you from me.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Is that supposed to be a romantic vow or a threat?”

He chuckled. “Take it whichever way you wish, sweetheart.”

If her family thought it was odd that Penelope entered the dining room frowning while his shoulders shook with mirth, they seemed to have finally found their manners and did not comment upon it. If things progressed as smoothly as they had tonight, his inheritance and the future of the Ravenstone family line would be secured.

• • •

Supper with the Walkers had been less awkward than Lucas anticipated, due in no small part to Penelope’s remarkable conversational skills. She listened attentively to those who spoke to her, then gave witty replies, which consisted of a combination of intelligence, subtlety and frankness.

The Walkers, for their part, apparently had expected Lucas to come for Penelope, and now that he was here, seemed willing to forgive and forget the length of time it took him to do so. Even Dr. Walker seemed to bend enough to offer a desultory comment or two to the dinner conversation.

When the ladies and Colin departed to let the gentlemen have their port in the dimly lit library, however, the uncomfortable silence returned.

Lucas took a sip from his glass, looking around the room for an inspiration to break Dr. Walker’s reticence. His gaze took in the shelves filled with books lining the moss green walls, then wandered to the faded rug and the equally faded rose-colored furniture that he and the doctor sat on opposite the hearth. He noticed the shiny suit of armor standing at the end of one of the bookshelves.

“A family heirloom?” he asked, tipping his head toward the coat of mail.

Dr. Walker followed his gaze and sighed. “No,” he answered. “That came with this house, which my father won in a game of cards.” He gave Lucas a direct look. “I apologize if I seem less than honored to have you in our house, my lord, but I cannot pretend this situation is normal.”

He nodded, accepting the apology. He had little choice but to accept it. “I understand.”

“I’ve tried to take care of my family as best I could, but I have no doubt you’ve already surmised we are in a somewhat difficult situation at the moment.” Dr. Walker paused to take a healthy swallow of his port. “I will not deny it. My father was a gambler. It was his occupation, don’t you know. His winning streak paid for my education and provided us with this house. As a rule, however, a winning streak is called that because it is supposed to end. You’ve seen our house. I am afraid repaying my father’s gaming debts when he died meant I could not provide a dowry for my daughters, nor keep my son in school.”

Penelope’s stepfather put his glass down and looked at his hands, held palm up in front of him, like a man who knew he was defeated but was valiantly refusing to give up fighting.

“I would work all day and all night if I could, to bring my family out of this mess. But I know in the end we would still be in debt. I am stuck in this situation.” The doctor sighed. “I work, and I work hard, answering summons across the county. Meanwhile, my children are growing up. I am deprived of seeing the smiles and tears that constitute their lives. I will continue to be deprived, if I want a better life than this for them.”

Dr. Walker rose to pour more port from the decanter. “I’ve no doubt you have your opinions about the way I have provided for Penelope, my lord, but I assure you she has been educated and raised as befits her status. Do not judge us by the current condition of our dwelling.”

“Dr. Walker,” he replied, putting his glass down on the low table in front of the settee. “Let me make one thing clear to you. I did not come here expecting Penelope to have a large dowry, and I do not need her to have one. My family has had its share of financial difficulties, and I understand the consequences of such a situation. All I ask is to be given the respect due me as your stepdaughter’s fiancé, and we shall get along nicely.”

The man looked surprised and then distinctly suspicious. “I thought you’d forgotten about my Polly. I don’t know what game you are playing, Ravenstone, but if you hurt my stepdaughter in any way, you will deal with me.”

He narrowed his own eyes with impatience. “I’ve come here to marry Penelope, and I intend to do exactly that.”

Dr. Walker stared into his glass. “I confess I’ve become quite worried about her,” he whispered after a moment. “The men in the village are too ignorant to recognize her wonderful qualities.” He gave Lucas a speculative look. “Her defense of you in the drawing room encourages me. If you’re here to do your duty, my lord, I won’t stand in your way. Polly needs a husband. She deserves to have her own family. She can’t go on living this way for long.”

“She doesn’t seem to agree with you, sir, but I’ll change her mind if you’ll let me.”

The other man turned, glass still in hand, and started to extend his other hand. “Well, that settles that then, don’t you think?”

“Not entirely,” he said, rising to his feet as well. “There are some things I would like to know, sir, if you would be so kind as to answer my questions.”

Dr. Walker’s gray brows rose in astonishment, but he nodded and dropped his frame on the faded green wingback chair adjacent to the settee.

Lucas watched the doctor sit down and get comfortable before walking to the hearth to stoke the fire, which had nearly died down. “I would like for you to tell me what you know of the current Baron Maitland,” he said in a no-nonsense voice as he concentrated on prodding the fire with a poker. “Why has he not provided for Penelope and her mother? One would think Penelope’s father left some provision for them in his will.”

“None whatsoever, my lord.” Dr. Walker sighed. “I know Edmund Maitland was your father’s friend, but the truth is he rarely visited Eleanor and his daughter while he was alive. He spent his days in London and died in a carriage accident with his mistress when Penelope was ten. We started calling her Polly after I married her mother, to make the transition to her new life easier.”

His hand stilled in the act of putting the poker away. “And the current baron? Is he in residence at the moment?”

“I think he is,” Dr. Walker replied. “He’s been known to ignore the London Season and stay in the country sometimes. Are you planning a visit?”

“I doubt there is any need to visit the baron,” he said with cool satisfaction. “I’m content to let sleeping dogs lie for a little bit longer. He will hear of the wedding soon enough.”

“Then why were you so concerned about the baron?”

He turned to face Dr. Walker. “Because I believe Penelope’s father, with the current baron’s help, deliberately hid my fiancée from me when my family’s fortunes took a downward turn.” He knew his smile was cold. “It will be interesting to see Maitland’s reaction when he finds out I’ve married his niece, after all.”

“Well, this news comes as no surprise. I daresay Polly’s father was a coward for trying to weasel out of the betrothal contract. Then again, he lived his life trying to weasel out of a lot of things, don’t you know, including being a husband and father.”

Lucas inclined his head in a respectful gesture. “From what I have learned since coming here, I owe you a great debt of gratitude, Dr. Walker. You have raised Penelope and treated her as your own.”

Dr. Walker grinned. “With all due respect, Ravenstone, I believe your debt of gratitude is a mite premature. Polly hasn’t agreed to marry you yet.”

“She will,” he promised.

Chapter Five

Penelope sat in the library, watching Ravenstone eat the last of the scones Gertie had brought in along with the tea.

She’d eaten a fair bit of the scones herself, but with the plate empty, she lost her only excuse to delay giving Lucas the invitation Papa had ordered her to extend before her stepfather left this morning on his rounds. Whatever Lucas and her stepfather talked about in this room last night, it had obviously swayed Papa to the earl’s side.

There was nothing for it but to forge ahead. It would be better to get it over with, before they left for their walk in the village green. Yet Penelope found herself delaying once more. “Were the scones to your liking, my lord?”

Ravenstone leaned back on the settee, his eyes as dark as dueling pistols, glinting in the light from the window as he watched her with what looked like amusement. “They were very fine, nymph.”

“
Nymph?
”

“Mmmm,” he said thoughtfully. “You remind me of a forest nymph, my dear. I thought it the first time I met you. Even more so today, actually. Your ice blue gown calls to mind a clear sky on a winter morning in the woods.”

It irritated her that he called her “nymph” and “my dear,” as if he assumed their relationship had developed to a level where he could casually use affectionate nicknames. The thrill she got from the way he called her those endearments irritated her even more.

She clasped her hands in her lap and studied him, noting his elegant coffee-brown coat and trousers that hugged his powerful build as he lounged on her settee. He looked exactly as she had imagined he would all those years ago. Tall and proud, with features as fierce as his warrior ancestors. Everything about him screamed strength, power and control. She couldn’t see how people ever thought of him as “Raving Ravenstone.”

Surely, the epithet had more to do with his mother than Lucas himself. Penelope could only imagine what it had been like for him, raised by a mother famous for her extreme mood swings. How had it felt when she locked herself in her room for days, attacked by her frequent bouts of melancholia?

What had it been like to have a heartbroken widower of a father suddenly taken from him in a hunting accident, leaving a boy in charge of a dwindling estate and a two-year-old girl?

No wonder Ravenstone held onto his control with ruthless discipline. Many of the things that happened in his life had been beyond his control, including their betrothal.

Her smile was sad when she replied to his comment. “I am no nymph, my lord. I’m merely an ordinary woman trying to make the best of things that have been handed to me.” She took a deep breath and slowly released it. “Which brings me to the reason I invited you here before we go for our walk in the village green.”

Penelope raised her head to meet his midnight eyes. “I am to tell you that Papa would be delighted if you were to stay with us here in Highfield Manor for the duration of your visit. We are, after all, engaged. I am sure you will find your accommodations here much more comfortable than The Mucky Duck.”

The look of smug satisfaction on his face made her add her own conditions. “You are, however, to keep in mind that we have a set budget for things such as food, candles and firewood. I doubt Papa thought about that when he invited you to stay with us.” It was difficult to keep a straight face when his dark brows met in dismay. “We will, of course, need to ration our resources — eat smaller meals, use fewer candles and such — to make certain the entire household gets to have those necessities.”

“You are enjoying this, are you not?”

She sat just a little bit straighter on the settee. “What do you mean, my lord?”

He made a gesture that encompassed the whole house. “Being in charge. Do not worry, nymph, I will make a contribution toward my lodging.”

“You don’t have to do that, sir.”

“And you don’t have to call me ‘sir,’” he stated in a voice typically reserved for announcing royal edicts. “I am only six years older than you are, and yesterday you called me Lucas. Considering the kiss we shared, I think we are past titular ceremony, don’t you?”

She tried to hide the blush his words brought by brushing imaginary lint from her skirts. “If you insist.”

“I do.”

“Very well, then.” Heavens, she didn’t know how much longer she could talk without addressing him as anything at all.

It was disconcerting how he seemed so at ease discussing their kiss, as if the topic were on the same level as the weather. For him, kissing must be so commonplace that it was nothing more significant than the state of atmospheric humidity. An attractive, titled gentleman would have no shortage of women volunteering to kiss him.