A Penny's Worth of Affection novel Chapter 13

"Mr. Barstow...I confess I am most overwhelmed by this. It is rather sudden-"

"Oh, I am quite willing to give you time to think on the matter. Perhaps pray about it before you make your decision. After all, it is not every day one receives a proposal."

He took her hands in his, gazing deep into her eyes, and Penny blushed as she imagined how it must look like to passers-by. She glanced around quickly, and sure enough, she could see a few groups of women huddled together, tittering excitedly and looking in their direction. Then her eyes fell on Lucy, and she stifled a groan at the look of utter horror and dismay on her face. Good Lord! The news would be all over Millcote by dinner; of that she was certain.

She turned her gaze back to Victor's with a pleading look.

"Please, Mr. Barstow, we are attracting quite a lot of attention.

Can we not discuss this matter in a more private setting?"

He looked contrite and immediately dropped her hand and sprung back a step. "My apologies, I got carried away. With your permission, I will like to call on you later. We can talk in private then?"

She nodded, conflicting emotions running through her mind. He bowed and turned to return to the vicarage, leaving her staring at him in confusion. She had always known she would have to marry someday, but she had never given more than a fleeting thought to the means or the man to whom she would bind her life to. Penny had always pictured herself in a comfortable cottage somewhere with a nice, quiet man, but till now, that man had never had a face. She shut her eyes briefly, and an image of the scowling duke filled her vision, just as it ever since that night in her living room. She shook her head to clear the image and frowned. The man was obnoxious and arrogant, so why did he dominate her thoughts so?

Lucy hurried up to join her and grabbed her arm. "What on earth happened with Mr. Barstow?" she demanded. "Why was he holding your hand like so-as if he-heaven forbid-has developed affection for you? I almost fainted at the horror of the thought. Please tell me it is not so!"

Oh, dear Lord! Spare me this torture, Penny thought, even as she grabbed Lucy's arm and tugged her to begin walking. She had a pressing need for a good cup of tea to calm her nerves and clear her head of a riot of thoughts.

"I will answer your questions later. Come let us be off. Edward must be starving by now, and so am I."

"Penny! I declare I will expire of curiosity by the time we get home if you do not tell me. Did he propose? Mary says he did, but I refuse to believe it. I do not like him, so you cannot marry him."

Penny groaned. Damn the man for choosing such a public manner to declare his intentions. "Lucy, it matters not if you do not like him, but I have not made my decision."

"So he did propose. Damnation, surely you are not considering accepting his proposal?"

"Lucille Inglewood! How many times must I tell you that you should not use such foul language?"

The Duke of Newbridge was instantly forgotten as Lucy launched into a description of her wardrobe. Penny sighed in relief, grateful that her distraction had worked. She listened intently as they entered the house. The sight in the living room made her gasp.

Jane and Edward broke apart hurriedly, a guilty flush staining both their cheeks as they stared at the two shocked women.

Then Edward hastily got to his feet. "Penelope! I had no idea the service ended so soon."

Penny gasped in shock, taking in the sight before her eyes, dread filling every inch of her, goosebumps rising on her skin.

"Edward! What do you think you are doing? Have you lost your mind?" she shrieked at him angrily. "He will kill you if he discovers you." Miss Rosebury arose hastily, her face white with fear. "Please, you must not tell him. Philip will kill us all."

Edward's jaw set stubbornly. "I will fight him if need be. I am not afraid of him, duke or not," he declared defiantly, his fists clenched by his side. "I will willingly die for the woman I love."

Penny stared at him in astonishment. Was he mad? Fight the Duke? There would be no fight; the man would simply have him killed and thrown him in a ditch to rot. She remembered the rumour that had been whispered in every drawing room of how a business rival of his had been mysteriously murdered. It had been suspected the Duke had ordered the killing, but no proof or open accusation had ever been made. She felt cold dread sweep over her again.