“I am aware of the time.” Logan sighed. He really did have the most opinionated servants in all of England. But somehow…
How strange. He’d only just realized his staff sounded like family. Like Clarissa and Penny.
“Did he say why he was here?”
The butler nodded. “A business proposition that would help fund the orphanage.”
“Send him in,” Logan said as he closed his eyes. He just wanted to watch Penny relax in her chair. But this night just wouldn’t seem to end.
“Should I go?” Penny asked, already rising.
“You don’t need to.” He rose too, stepping closer to her. “If it’s about the orphanage you should be here.”
“When it comes to money, I trust you implicitly. You are the Earl of Gold.”
“Stay for a bit.” He needed her to trust him with more than just money. He might want her to trust him with everything. His gut clenched. Where were these thoughts coming from? It didn’t matter now. What did seem important was regaining her trust. And the only way to do that was to have no more secrets.
She nodded as the butler showed another man into the room. He was tall, and broad, and terribly handsome with dark wavy hair and a flashing smile.
Logan had heard of the man, of course. He was one of the few earls who had a worse reputation than Logan. Earl of Bastards they called him. Unlike most earls, the man hadn’t inherited his title but earned it from valor on the battlefield.
Logan had never heard why he was called the Earl of Bastards. Was it because he’d been a cutthroat soldier or was his parentage in question? Still, the man had been successful and,
unlike Logan, seemed to move through society with relative ease.
Save the rumors, of course.
The man’s dark eyes seemed to assess Penny in an instant and jealousy once again rose like the tide inside Logan.
“Miss Walters, I presume.” A grin flashed across the other man’s face. “It’s a pleasure.”
Penny silently dipped into a curtsey. “My lord.”
“It’s a very late hour to call.” Logan rumbled, taking two steps forward that put him between this man and Penny.
“Apologies, Goldthwaite.” The man inclined his head. “My brother said it was urgent.”
“Brother?” He’d not heard of the man before.
“The Duke of Devonhall.” Baxter said moving closer. “You met him this evening, I believe.”
Logan’s eyes widened. How could Devonhall and Baxter be brothers? But the resemblance was there. Their eyes, the nose. The grace with which both men moved. “I didn’t know.”
“Not many do,” Baxter answered. “May I sit? I’ve a great deal to say and not a lot of time.” Then he turned to Penny. “Some of what I have to share is for Goldthwaite’s ears only. I hope you don’t mind. I’d love to make your acquaintance some other time.”
Penny moved closer, Logan felt her body draw closer. The energy about him always shifted when she was near. Then her hand lightly touched his shoulder. But the touch warmed him. He wished to turn and capture those fingers in his, pressing them to his lips.
“Lord Goldthwaite?” Penny asked a silent question but one he understood. She wanted to know what he wished for her to do.
“It’s all right.” He looked back at her with a smile. Concern colored her face and he wanted to hold her for caring. “Mr. Winters can get you anything else you need.”
“Good night.” Then she nodded to Baxter on her way out the door.
Logan watched her go.
“Lovely girl,” Baxter said, turning back to Logan. “You’re very lucky.”
What did he say to that? Baxter’s words implied that Penny was his. He supposed it would seem that way, with Penny under his roof and the hour so late. Much as he wanted Baxter to think Penny was under his protection, he also wanted to guard her reputation. “I’d appreciate it if you’d keep her visit here to yourself. Someone attempted to light her orphanage on fire this evening and—”