arm through his and pulled her toward the house. “Stay any longer out here and someone’s bound to see you.”
“And if they do? We are merely two neighbors having a morning chat in the back garden. How could that be scandalous?”
He exhaled. “Perhaps you’re right.”
“No one pays much attention to me, anyway.”
Normally, Gabe would have paused to lecture her on the unlikelihood of this statement, or the injustice even if it were true. However, today her obscurity might work in their favor.
Maybe, just maybe, they’d gotten away with this.
When he followed Penny up the kitchen stairs to the entrance hall, however, he knew at once he’d been mistaken. They were instantly mobbed.
Her friends had been waiting. All of them. The duchess one, the freckled one, the pregnant one, the scarred duke one, and the aggravatingly charming one.
Five individuals who would defy even the closest observer to find a trait they all held in common. Except, of course, for one important quality: They all cared about Penny.
“Penny, is that you?”
“Thank heaven you’re safe.”
“We’ve been out of our minds with worry.”
“Where the devil have you been?”
“Bixby piddled on the dining room carpet.”
When they’d finished fussing over Penny, they turned to Gabe. Wouldn’t you know, these five disparate people shared a second quality.
They were, every last one of them, furious with him.
The three ladies tugged Penny to one side, subjecting her to a stern, yet loving interrogation.
The two men slammed Gabe against a wall.
“What the hell did you do to her?” Ashbury snarled. His scarred face twisted with anger. “I demand answers.”
“I demand answers, too,” the other one said. Chase, Penny had called him.
“We were taking the otter out to the country. The carriage axle splintered, and we were delayed.”
“Oh, please,” Chase said. “A carriage accident? I’ve devised a great many excuses in my life, and that’s the most hackneyed tale in the book.”
“In the book?” Gabe asked. “There’s no book.”
“Yes, there is,” Chase snapped, defensive. “And if there’s not, I’m writing one.”
“Forget the book.” Ashbury shook him by the lapels, rattling the paintings and sketches mounted on the wall. “I want the truth.”
“It is the truth. The carriage axle broke. We stopped and waited for the smith to come repair it.”
“Then why is her frock a shambles?”
Gabe sighed. “The otter escaped into the river. She insisted on chasing after it. She rushed into the water, tumbled onto the muddy bank, and got tangled in the reeds.”
Chase looked peevish. “Well, that sounds … entirely too plausible, where Penny is concerned.”
“Then I assume we’re done here.” Gabe moved to leave.
“Not so fast.” Ashbury slammed him back against the wall, rattling the artwork again. “What happened to her frock is inconsequential. I want to know where you were all night.”
Across the hall, Penny was relating the same story to her friends.
“We walked to the village, and after that, we—Oh! There you are, darling.” Bixby nosed at her ankles, and she crouched to smother him with love in return.
“After that, what?” Nicola prodded.
“After that, we stopped over at an inn.”
At this, Emma and Alex exchanged concerned looks.
Nicola was not so delicate. “An inn?”
Penny hushed her, not wanting Ash or Chase to hear. “It was that or wait in the carriage. You’re making it sound so terrible.”
“Because it is terrible!”
“It wasn’t. Truly, it was …” Erotic. Wonderful. Confusing. “… perfectly safe.”
“You should have fed him the poisoned biscuits.”
“Nicola,” Alexandra said in a pointed murmur, “Penny says she found the arrangements acceptable.”
“Well, I don’t find them acceptable.” Nicola raised her voice. “How can you be so calm about this? She spent the night with a man, Alex. That man. At an inn.”
“An inn?” Ashbury growled. “You spent the night at an inn?”
“Her Ladyship needed to eat, rest, and stay warm. It was the best option, unless you would prefer me to have returned her home with pneumonia.”
“I suppose there was only one room available. With one bed.” Chase crossed his arms. “That one’s in the book, too.”
“The suite had three rooms.”
“You shared the same suite?” Ashbury gave him another violent shake.
Chase intervened. “Ash, that’s enough. Let the man go.”
With reluctance, the duke released Gabe and fell back a few steps.
“It’s my turn now.” Chase took his place, grasping Gabe by the lapels and slamming him back against the wall.
Jesus Christ. The man was stronger than he looked. This time, one of the framed sketches tumbled to the floor.
“You know,” Gabe said, “Lady Penelope might actually like some of this artwork. Take a bit more care.”
Ash retrieved the small, oval frame from the floor. It held a phenomenally ugly sketch of a cross-eyed, squished-face pug. “This is hideous.”
“Yes,” Chase agreed. “It’s probably her favorite.”
Gabe grabbed the framed sketch from the duke’s hands and rehung it on the nail. “I wasn’t about to leave her unguarded in a strange inn. She needed protection.”
“And we’re to believe she was safe with you?” Ashbury asked, incredulous. “You’re the one she needs protection from.”
Gabe found it difficult to argue with that.
“I don’t understand this,” Chase said. “Penny promised us she’d take a companion.”
