A Penny's Worth of Affection novel Chapter 33

"And that is none of your concern, Miss Inglewood," he cut in, his voice harsh.

Chastened, Penny nodded and looked away, busying herself with the remainder of her stew. An awkward silence reigned in the room until Phillip rose, retrieving his shirt from where he'd hung it to dry above the fireplace and shrugged into it.

"Go to bed immediately," he ordered in a brusque tone, striding to the door. "I will come up for you as soon as it is dawn. Be ready."

"Where are you going to sleep?"

"The stables, of course."

She gaped at him in disbelief. "But you cannot...That will be uncomfortable."

"Well, I do not see any other alternative. Unless you are offering me a place on your bed?" He grinned, a devilish grin that did not quite reach his eyes which remained cold and distant.

"I warn you, though, the only women I share a bed with are those I intend to make love to. Do you want that?"

She blushed. Damn the man for always making her blush. In one evening, she had blushed more than her entire lifetime. "Don't be absurd. I simply wish to suggest you sleep here-not on my bed, of course-but we can create a makeshift bed of sorts on the floor...Besides, we-we are supposed to be married. Don't you think it will raise questions if you sleep in the stables?"

"My, my, how ingenious of you." Phillip mocked her. "Are you sure you want me in the same room? Not afraid I will take advantage of you?"

She lifted her chin and stared at him defiantly. "Unless you wish mortal injury, I would suggest you do not attempt it. Now, are you going to stay or not?"

He burst into loud laughter and nodded. "Very well. I accept your generous offer. Much preferable than sleeping out in the blasted cold anyway. Thank you."

She hesitated. A lady never called a gentleman by his given name. Even wives seldom did so, unless there was some sort of understanding between them. What the Duke was suggesting went beyond the bounds of propriety. Which was silly really, considering they were actually sharing a bedroom. Lord! If this tale ever got to the ears of the ton, there would be a scandal to rival any other.

"Good night, Your Grace," she said firmly and heard him chuckle. She pulled the covers over her head, sure she would be unable to sleep with him so close to her. However, she soon drifted off to sleep.

Phillip lay awake on the damn uncomfortable makeshift bed, staring at the crackling flames in the fireplace. Penny's question floated in his thoughts, affecting him more than he was willing to admit.

Why did he not call off the engagement? Penny was right; he could do so if he wished to simply forgive old man Rosebury the gambling debts and end the betrothal. Several times over the years, he'd been sorely tempted, but as always, a sense of duty overruled his wishes.

A duke, especially a Newbridge, did not back out of agreements. Those were the words hammered in his head from the moment he'd been old enough to talk. In his mind, backing out of the betrothal amounted to the same thing. Plus, there was the added benefit that a huge part of the Rosebury estate (land that would come as part of Miss Rosebury's dowry) sat atop a veritable fortune in coal, a fact that was unknown to even Lord Rosebury himself. Phillip's father had disclosed this to him but had declined to say how he'd come about the information.

He sighed and rubbed at his temple, the beginnings of a headache worrying him. Turning to glance at the bed, he could just make out the outline of the woman underneath the covers. Penelope Inglewood was an intriguing woman without a doubt. Headstrong but brave. Annoying yet irresistible. Especially when she looked up at him with those eyes that seemed to see a different part of him than the rest of the world. The part of him that was vulnerable, the part he'd ruthlessly buried years ago. Those were his last thoughts as he drifted off to sleep.