A Penny's Worth of Affection novel Chapter 30

"Can you stand?" he asked gently, his expression concerned. She nodded, feeling extremely conscious of the way her drenched clothes plastered themselves to her body. The wind blew across her body, and she shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.

Phillip pushed open the door and practically shoved her into the dim but warm interior. The entry way was deserted, but Penny could hear voices drifting from somewhere within. A fire burned brightly, and Phillip took her arm and led her to sit by it.

"I'll ruin the chair..." Penny protested, but he placed a firm hand on her shoulders and forced her to sit.

"I'll pay for any damage," he replied brusquely, his tone effectively shutting off any form of protest.

A door opened, and a short, portly man hurried in. He took in the situation at a glance and bowed deeply. "Welcome, mi lord, mi lady...Horrible weather indeed..."

"Do you have brandy?" Phillip cut in, sparing the man a glance before returning his attention to Penny who was now shivering violently. He took her cold hands between his own and rubbed vigorously, his lips tight with worry.

"Aye, mi lord. I'll ask the missus to make some tea too." The man hurried off, disappearing into the kitchen.

"We should get you out of these wet clothes," Phillip muttered, still rubbing her hands. "God dammit, you should have listened to me and stayed at Millcote."

Penny was too cold to bother with a response, not that he seemed to require one in any case, not with the way he was glaring at her as though torn between strangling her or perhaps shooting her for being so hard-headed. The warmth of the fire had begun to seep into her bones slowly. Coupled with his administrations, this began to make her feel sleepy.

The innkeeper returned, and Phillip engaged him in conversation, but Penny was too tired to pay any attention to what was said.

He finished their conversation and turned to her, helping her stand. She winced as the pain made itself known once more, but he simply picked her up and followed the innkeeper.

He set her down again, this time, in what appeared to be a private parlour, also with a cheerful fire. The innkeeper withdrew after setting her box on the floor, leaving her alone with the Duke.

"Sit down, Miss Inglewood," Phillip ordered, striding over to stand by the fire. "A maid will be here shortly to help you undress and change into something dry. Tea will be sent in a few minutes." "W–what about you? You are also drenched."

He turned to look at her, his lips set in a grim smile. "Do not worry about me." He moved towards the door.

"Where are you going?" she asked in some alarm, wondering if he was going to abandon her here.

He sighed impatiently. "I am going back to the bridge."

"But it is raining terribly," she protested, "You will catch your death. Why not wait until the rain stops?"

Strange Emotions

Husband? Penny thought frantically even as she choked on her tea, the hot liquid burning a scalding path down her throat. Molly hurried to her side, rescuing the cup which was in danger of toppling to the floor.

"Are ye all right, yer grace?" the inn keeper's wife exclaimed, her smile turning to one of the most extreme alarm as she noticed Penny's distress.

Gasping for breath, Penny managed a reassuring nod, taking the cup of water Molly held out to her. The cool liquid soothed the burning, and she mercifully felt fine. "Thank you, Molly." She smiled at the girl gratefully before turning to the innkeeper. "I am quite all right. Thank you. The tea simply went down the wrong way."

The woman nodded, relief flooding her wrinkled face. "Aye, it be rather alarming when that happens. Molly, fetch some more cold water for her ladyship at once."

The maid curtsied and hurried out, while her mistress busied herself with laying out the delicious smelling stew. However, Penny's mind raced, and she wished the Duke were here so she could question him about this husband business. Had he gone mad? What would possess him to create the impression that they were man and wife?

"There. Ye should eat something, yer grace. It will help warm ye up nice. May I send for yer maid to assist ye undress?" The woman's voice broke into her frantic musing.

She'd never had the luxury of a personal maid, or any servant whatsoever, impoverished as they were. From childhood, her siblings and herself had been taught to manage on their own, and after Mama's passing, the responsibilities of the household had fallen naturally on her shoulder's.