away to shut her out from the group.
Adam eluded her gaze again, speaking to the room rather than the woman before him. ‘We would, but I believe my wife has other plans.’ There was the subtlest emphasis on ‘we’, to remind Clarissa of the change in status. And then he glanced at Penny, waiting for her to confirm what he had said.
She tried to imagine herself responding as Clarissa had. She would say something clever, about how divine it would be to spend an evening at table with a woman who her husband held so dear. And there would be the same ironic tone that the others were using, to indicate an undercurrent of flirtation, and proof that she knew what was what. It would anger Adam, but he would admire her fearlessness. And it would enrage Clarissa. Which would be strangely pleasing, for Penny found herself taking an instant dislike to the woman.
Instead, she replied haltingly, ‘Yes, I fear I am most busy. With my studies. And will be unable to get away.’
‘You cannot leave your books.’ Clarissa turned and glanced down at her, then looked back at the others as if Penny’s social ineptitude had been more than confirmed. ‘But you do not mind if Adam comes without you, of course.’ The woman dared her to respond in the negative.
And here was where she must admit defeat, ceding the field with the battle barely begun. Although why she would feel the need to fight for this, she had no idea.
Before she could answer, Adam spoke for her. ‘My darling wife would have my best interests at heart, no matter what she might say, for she wishes to see me happy. And since I have already expressed a desire to go to White’s with Tim, she would not think to drag me into mixed society, no matter how pleasant it might be for her.’ He glanced back to his friend. ‘Eight o’clock, then?’
If Tim was relieved, he did not show it, only smiling in acknowledgement of the plan. And then he smiled at Penny with unexpected warmth. ‘Do not worry, my dear. No gels allowed at White’s. I will keep your new husband on the straight and narrow. As long as you have no objection to cards and whisky.’
Penny searched again for a clever reply that would not come. ‘Of course, not. Whatever Adam wishes …’
Clarissa was clearly piqued. ‘It does not do, Penelope, to give a man latitude in these things. It leads them to take one too much for granted.’
Adam snapped back at her, ‘On the contrary, Clarissa, a man is more likely to give his affection to one who can manage, on occasion, to put the needs of others before her own selfish desires.’ Adam was looking straight into the woman’s eyes for once, and Penny realised, with sickening clarity, why he had been avoiding the contact.
They were lovers. They had been, or soon would be—it mattered not which. While Adam might smile at the wives of the other men in the room and laugh at their foolishness, he dared not acknowledge Clarissa, for when he looked at her, the guilt was plain in his eyes for all who cared to see.
After the brief lapse, he looked away from her again, and proceeded to act as though she were not in the room with them.
Penny looked to the others, watching the silent messages flash between them. Those who were positioned to see Adam’s expression passed the truth to those who could not, with furtive glances and hungry smiles. Only Timothy appeared oblivious to what had happened, his attention absorbed by a volume of Aristotle.
And then the moment passed, and Adam stepped around Clarissa to stand behind his own wife. ‘I am lucky to have married such a gracious woman, and hope never to take the fact for granted.’
Penny felt the mortification rising in her, forming a barrier between her and the outside. Was she expected to put her needs so far to the side that she must condone his adultery?
And then her husband put his hand upon her shoulder, as a gesture of affection and solidarity, and she jumped, as though she had been burned.
There were more sidelong glances and more wicked smiles. Suddenly Lord Timothy cut through the silence, shutting his book with a snap. ‘Yes, Adam. We must offer you congratulations on your amazing luck. And it is good that you recognise it, for a man is truly blessed when he has the love and respect of such an intelligent woman.’ He turned to the others in his party. ‘And now, ladies and gentleman, we should be going, for we are quite destroying the peace of the household and keeping her Grace from her studies.’
‘Let me show you out.’ Adam took the lead, and the others fell obediently in behind him. Clarissa made as if to stay behind, but her husband held the door for her, making it impossible for her to linger.
When she was gone, Lord Timothy turned back into the room, and favoured Penny with another brief, encouraging smile. ‘Good day to you, Penelope. And good fortune as well.’ And then he was gone, shutting the door behind him.
She sank back on to the settee, weak with confusion. Adam had seemed so kind. He was good to her. Affectionate, in a distant sort of way. And in a short time it had become easy to imagine the affection blossoming into something warmer. Never passion. She could not hope for something so ridiculous. But love, in the classical sense. A respect for each other that might lead to a mutually satisfying relationship.
But how could she ever trust a man that would betray his best friend? And what did he mean for her, in any case? They had talked in Scotland about living as amiable strangers. And then he had paraded his lover under her nose, allowed her to be the butt of his friends’ jokes, then glossed it over with fine and empty words about mutual respect.
If this was how fashionable society behaved, then she had been right in her decision to turn her back on it. But what was she to do if society hunted her out and continued to harass her?
She could hear her husband’s step in the hall, and prayed that, for once, he would abide by his earlier promises, go to his study, and leave her in peace.
But instead he opened her door without preamble and shut it tightly behind him, then glared at her. He was angry. She could see it flashing in his eyes, and noted the stiffness of his back, as though his movements were containing some sudden physical outburst. His tone was curt. ‘I wish to speak of what just happened here.’
‘Nothing happened, as far as I noticed.’
‘Exactly.’ He frowned. ‘And those around us took note of the nothing. It will be quite the talk of the town.’
‘They took note of so many things, I am at a loss as to which one you refer to. Could it have been when you informed them of my monetary worth to you?’
‘I misspoke. I had intended to praise your virtues, and the words went wrong.’
‘Perhaps because I have so few virtues to extol. Since you cannot discuss my birth or my beauty, I should thank you on the compliment to my purse.’
‘Believe me, Penny, I do not wish to call further attention to your wealth. It is not a point of pride that my friends suspect I married beneath me to get to your money.’
‘Beneath you?’ she snapped. ‘When I discovered you, you were face down in a stable yard and under the horses. To marry beneath yourself, you would have to look quite a bit further than the daughter of a cit. There was not much lower you could have sunk.’
He flinched. ‘I will avoid fulsome praise of you in the future, for I have no talent for flattery. In any case, it is wasted on one who makes no attempt to hide her distaste of me.’
‘I
