A Penny's Worth of Affection novel Chapter 76

He scowled at the fireplace. "I told her I..." he let his words trail off. He couldn't very well tell his aunt he had confessed his lust to Penny or that he had almost taken her virtue in a carriage of all places. Good God! He groaned inwardly. Could he really sit back and allow Penny slip from his fingers? Ever since that night in the garden, he had not had a moment free from thoughts of her. Those eyes and the warm, passionate woman she was capable of being.

Phillip forced himself to admit Penny was the only woman with whom he had been able to have more than a single conversation without becoming unbearably bored. She challenged him as no other woman and certainly very few men had ever done, and she kissed like an angel. For the first time, Phillip allowed himself to entertain the notion that Penny could find some measure of happiness with him. He haunted her, body and soul, and he was a fool to have let her slip away. Bloody hell. He needed Penelope Inglewood. But it was already too late. She had pledged herself to another man

"I am a blithering idiot," he murmured in defeat, slumping back against the chair. He sighed and raked a hand through his hair, grimacing at how sticky and unkempt his usually pristine hair had become. "I have lost her. I have lost the only woman I..." He swallowed back a sudden lump in his throat, loss and guilt sweeping through him in waves.

Aunt Elise sighed in relief and leaned forward to pat his hand fondly. "My dear boy, all is not lost yet. Not until she says her vows."

Phillip stared at his aunt in confusion, and she gave him a knowing wink. Suddenly, he understood and bolted to his feet. He bent to place a quick kiss on her soft cheeks and ran from the room, calling out for the butler.

Five minutes later, mounted on his fastest horse, Phillip rode hell-bent towards Millcote, the setting sun casting an eerie glow over horse and rider.

***

Penny sat in her room and stared at the bare walls and wardrobe, her possessions now neatly packed away in the two huge trunks waiting in the corner. The single candle cast long shadows over the floor and walls, banishing the pre-dawn darkness. In a few hours, Alasdair would arrive in his sister's carriage to convey them to Scotland and to her new life. The thought that she would be leaving behind all she held dear hit Penny, and she shut her eyes against the grief that welled up within her. She bit her lip hard, determined not to give in to the crushing agony. This was her life, and she had chosen this path, a path she intended to follow regardless of whatever pain it might bring.

Thankfully, she would not have to worry about her father, as he had announced this morning that he would be embarking on yet another expedition as soon as she was married. He was going to India, leaving the house to Edward and Jane.

"All's well that ends well," she whispered, the sound echoing in the empty room. Penny took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She would learn to love Alasdair; her marriage would be a happy one, comfortable...so different than what she would have had with Phillip.

"Stop this at once, Penelope!" she admonished herself sharply. She would not allow thoughts of Phillip to cloud her existence for one second longer. Today was the start of her new life, and by heaven, she would put him firmly away.

At the mention of Phillip's name, pain filled her heart.

Was this how it would be? she wondered in silence. Would every mention of his name cause her heart to constrict in this unbearable pain? How could she possibly live if that was so?

Penny sighed and shut her eyes to stem the tears threatening to fall. She must put this utter ridiculous behind her and focus on forming a future with her betrothed.

Outwardly, she shrugged. "I have no idea, Eddie," she replied softly. "I assume he has grown tired of threatening our lives and has found other means of amusement. He has certainly said nothing to me."

She could hear his audible sigh of relief. "I do hope he has forgotten..." he mused, rising to walk over to the window, staring out at the dark night beyond.