Shameless (The House of Rohan 4)

Though presumably he’d be sharing his bedroom, his bed with Miss Pennington. The same room and bed he’d shared with Melisande. If anything would lay her ghost it would be Dorothea’s pinched face.

Straightening himself, he opened the door.

Miss Pennington was sitting by the fire, ramrod straight, her gloved hands folded perfectly in her lap, her face set in impatient lines. It was a handsome face, he realized with surprise. Good bones, clear skin, symmetrical, with wide-set eyes and a Cupid’s bow of a mouth. If she were a little softer, she might have been considered a beauty. Perhaps he could soften her.

She turned to look at him, rising, and there was disapproval in those flinty eyes. “You hardly look ready to receive guests, Rohan,” she observed.

“Indeed, I must ask your pardon. I decided I had kept you waiting for too long and hoped you would forgive me my dishabille. ”

She didn’t look like she was about to forgive anything, but then she smiled, mechanically. “Of course, dear sir. ” She sank back down, allowing him to take the chair he so badly needed.

“And to what do I owe the extreme and unexpected honor of your visit, Miss Pennington?” He had no idea whether it was his hangover or the blow on his head, but he could fathom no reason at all why she’d be here.

“It’s dreadfully forward of me, I know, but I hadn’t seen you in a while, and I was concerned. I wanted to assure myself that you were quite well. ”

He hoped the hunted feeling didn’t show on his face. She was like a prize spaniel in search of its prey. Except that he liked spaniels.

“Quite well, Miss Pennington. I beg your pardon—I’ve been dealing with a pressing family matter. ” He glanced around, desperate to change the topic. “But you haven’t touched your tea. Allow me to ring for fresh…”

“No, thank you, Rohan. I have a strong dislike of sweets and consider after

noon tea to be a weakness of the constitution. ”

He couldn’t help it. The plate was piled high with the sweet cakes that Melisande adored. Left alone with them, she probably wouldn’t have left a crumb. There was something so…reassuring about a woman with an honest appetite.

He wiped the thought from his mind. Dorothea Pennington wasn’t improving his headache, and the sooner she departed the better. “So true,” he said vaguely, knowing he would give his right arm for a cup of even lukewarm tea. “And how may I assist you, Miss Pennington?”

Her posture was so rigidly correct that he would have said it impossible, but she seemed to draw herself up even more. “May I be frank, Lord Rohan?”

“I wish you would, my dear Miss Pennington. ”

“I think we should be married. ”

It was a good thing he wasn’t drinking tea—he would have choked. As it was he kept his expression schooled, shielding his shock. “I beg your pardon?”

“Yes, I know, it’s completely forward of me, but you and I are mature people, and you have already shown a marked partiality toward me. Several people have noted it, and I am certain you would never have paid such particular attention without meaning to follow through. You are, above all things, a gentleman, and I know I can count on you to behave as you ought. You would never bring me a moment’s shame, and your title, though connected to a name that is ramshackle in the extreme, is high enough that a Pennington would not blush to be connected. My family goes back to William the Conqueror, and we may look as high as we please when it comes to marriage, but I think you and I should suit extremely. I would like to get married in the fall, and it takes a great deal of time to arrange a wedding on the magnitude that would befit a Pennington, and I really cannot afford to be patient any longer. I decided it would make things a great deal simpler if I took the bull by the horns, so to speak. ”

Author: Anne Stuart He assumed he didn’t look as aghast as he felt. “Very thorough. And very direct, Miss Pennington. I appreciate your forthright attitude. ”

“I imagined you would. ” A self-satisfied smile curved her small mouth. He didn’t trust a woman with a small mouth. Melisande’s was wide and generous. “I thought St. Paul’s would be the logical choice for the ceremony. Westminster Abbey is inconveniently located—” she made it sound like a personal affront “—and we would have to wait until next spring for a proper date. ”

“You’ve already checked?” he said faintly.

“I am a thorough woman. I presume you will leave these petty details to me? I am more than capable of dealing with them. ”

“I am sure you are,” he said. He could stand it no longer—he reached for the teapot. Cold tea was better than none, but Miss Pennington, eyeing him with disapproval, took the teapot from his hand.

“If you feel in need of a reviving beverage I will ring for fresh water. Your servants are not what I would call remarkable. The old man who brought me in here is far past the age of usefulness. He should be replaced with someone younger. ”

“That would quite break Richmond’s heart. ”

She looked at him, for the first time honestly confused. “Is there any particular reason why his feelings should be considered in the matter? One needs to be practical about such things. ”

“Indeed,” he said slowly. She didn’t ring for fresh water, and he knew there was no way he was going to be able to pour himself tea without her wresting the pot from him once more. He settled back to suffer in silence.

“I am glad we’re agreed upon that. ” A trace of smugness now tinged her small mouth. Melisande hadn’t liked her, he recalled. In fact, she’d referred to the woman as “a mean-spirited piece of work. ” Unfortunately apt.

“While we’re on the subject,” the mean-spirited piece of work continued, “we should come to an understanding on other matters. I would expect to run my household with no interference from you. I have been trained my entire life to run a gentleman’s estate, and the size of yours should offer no challenge at all. ” Thus with a few words she dismissed his admittedly impressive estates and inheritance. “We would, of course, expect to have children, and I would scarce deny you the marriage bed, but you have a certain reputation for…lasciviousness. No gentleman would ever insult his wife by making her suffer such lewd attentions, but I wanted to make it clear from the outset that I will countenance no displays of lustfulness. We will come together in the hope of being fruitful. I rather thought three children—any more and it hints of ill manners. An heir and a spare for you, and a daughter I can raise and mold in my own image. ”