go.’ She rose, and linked her arm with his. ‘And perhaps you can be persuaded to tell me what I must purchase, so that I look my finest when I return for the ball. I do wish to look my best when in your presence.’
She watched them leave the room, Clarissa smiling brightly and leaning on Adam as if she could not manage to walk the few steps to the door without his support.
Penny did not realise that she was still clutching a pencil in her hand until the thing snapped under the pressure of her fingers. The gall of the woman. The infernal nerve. To come into her house, to point out her flaws and to rub her face in her husband’s perfidy. The rage simmered in her, as she waited for Adam to return.
Before he was near enough to speak, she met him in the hall, and demanded, ‘What is going on?’
‘Penny. The servants.’ He said it as though the lack of privacy should be sufficient to contain her temper.
But she was having none of it. ‘The servants might also want to know the amount of extra work you have brought to this house, for you have certainly set us all a task. We are to have a ball, are we? Do we even have a ballroom? Clarissa seems to think so, but I do not know, myself.’
His ears turned slightly red, which might indicate embarrassment, but nothing showed in his voice. ‘It is on the third floor. We have not had time for a whole tour—’
‘Because we have been married less than a week. I have lived in this house for only two days, and at no time do I remember any discussion of our hosting an entertainment.’
He backed her into the sitting room, and shut the door behind them. ‘The subject came up yesterday evening.’
‘When you were at Clarissa’s party. Another thing you made no mention of.’
‘And I do not remember, in any of our discussions, the need to inform you of my whereabouts at all times. In fact, I specifically remember our agreeing that our social lives would remain separate.’
‘An agreement which you chose to violate when you invited all of London to our house and neglected to inform me. While I can hardly complain over your choice of entertainments last evening, it embarrasses me when your hostess chooses to come to my house and make me aware of them.’
She glared at him, and watched the guilty anger rise in his face. ‘I do not like what you are implying.’
‘I did not think you would. But that is hardly a denial, is it?’ She waited, praying that he would tell her she was wrong, and dishonoured them both by thinking such horrible things.
Instead he said coldly, ‘It does not suit you to be jealous over something that was over before we even met.’
The admission, and the easy dismissal of her feelings, made her almost too sick to speak. ‘I am not jealous, Adam. What cause would I have? You know that our relationship is not likely to be close enough to merit jealousy. But I am disappointed, and more than a little disgusted. I had thought you a better person than that. And to carry on in such an obvious fashion, under the very nose of a man you claim as friend …’
‘Perhaps, if I had married a woman who wished to be at my side, then there would be no cause to wonder at my relationship with another man’s wife.’
She laughed in amazement. ‘It is all my fault, then? That you choose to make a fool of yourself over a married woman?’
‘I am not attempting to make a fool of myself. I am endeavouring, as best I can, to make our marriage seem as normal as possible to the rest of the world. But apparently I am failing—already there has been talk about you.’
‘Only because Clarissa spreads it, I am sure. Better that they should talk about me than the two of you.’
He made no effort to correct her. ‘If we do not appear together in public, and supremely happy, everyone will say that I am keeping you out of sight because you are an embarrassment to me.’
‘What do I care what people think of me?’
‘Apparently nothing, or you would not look as you do.’
One, two, three … She closed her eyes, to stop any chance of tears, and continued her counting. She had known he would say something about her looks eventually. How could he not? But she had hoped, when the time came, it would be as a casual statement of the obvious. Then she would be better prepared, and could agree and laugh the pain away. But he had been so good about not commenting. To have it thrown back in the heat of anger had taken the breath from her and her argument with it.
She made it all the way to nine and then blurted, ‘If you had a problem with my looks, then you should have thrown the licence on to the fire when we were in Scotland. There is nothing I can do to my appearance to make it a match for yours. No amount of money will turn a sow’s ear into a silk purse.’
He waited until she was through with her outburst, and then said, ‘Do not turn soft on me, now that I need you to be strong.’ There was no kindness in his voice, but neither did he seem angry. ‘Our initial plan will not work. At least, not while we are in London. And so I am making another, and I expect you to obey me in it. If you do not wish to follow my advice, I will allow Clarissa to return and badger you into your new role as duchess. She is better qualified to teach you how to navigate in society than any other woman I know. But she can be amazingly stubborn and surpassingly cruel. Do you understand?’
She bit her lip and nodded.
‘First, you will not, nor will I allow you in future to, refer to yourself as a sow’s ear, a lost cause, wasted effort, nothing, nobody, or any of the other terms of scorn. Self-pity is your least attractive feature, and not one I wish to see displayed in my home for the duration of our marriage.’
When she was sure her eyes were dry, she opened them and glared at him.
‘Very good. You look quite like a duchess when you are angry with me.’
She could not tell if he meant to be amusing, but she had no desire to laugh.
He stared down her body. ‘Is all your clothing like this?’
She nodded. ‘Practical. Easy to care for.’
‘Dull. Ugly. Drab.’
‘I put foolish things aside when my father died.’
‘And how long ago was that?’
‘Two years.’
‘Two years,’ he repeated. ‘And you are still dressed in mourning. You are a bride, Penny. And to see you dressed so is an insult to me. It is as though I pulled you from weeping on a grave, and forced you to marry.’
‘Very well,’ she said. ‘I will wear my old things. I have more than enough gowns in storage, hardly used since my come-out.’
‘But they must be …’ he added quickly on his fingers ‘… at least five years old.’
‘They are not worn, so I have not needed to replace them.’
‘But hardly the first stare of fashion.’
She laughed bitterly. ‘As
