The Historical Collection. Stephanie Laurens
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“Sadly accurate,” Alex said.
“Tell us the truth,” Nicola said. “Did he take advantage of you?”
“No,” Penny said in all honesty. “He didn’t take any liberties.”
To the contrary, he’d given her liberties. The freedom to explore his body. The freedom to express herself. Part of her wished to tell them everything in detail—but she didn’t want to confess it here and now.
“Something happened,” Alex said. “I can see it on your face.”
“What do you mean?” Penny might be a poor liar, but her talent for keeping secrets had been honed over the years. There were things she’d never told a soul.
Nicola’s face fell. “You’re smiling. This is horrible.”
“It’s horrible that I’m smiling?”
Emma took Penny’s hand. “We love you. If there’s anything you wish to say—anything at all—you can trust us.”
“I know.”
Then again, could she trust them entirely? Something Gabriel had said niggled in the back of her mind.
“Be honest,” she said. “Do you find my sandwiches revolting?”
“You called her sandwiches revolting?” Chase went red with anger. “How dare you.”
“I told her the truth. They are revolting.”
“Of course they are.” He jabbed a finger in Gabe’s face. “And that’s expressly why we never tell her so.”
Gabe batted his finger away. “So you lie to her.”
“Better than breaking her heart.”
“Breaking her heart? Good God, man. They’re sandwiches.”
“Those are not mere sandwiches,” Chase said through gritted teeth. “They’re a test. You failed it.”
Ashbury paced the narrow entrance hall, muttering angrily. “If anything happened between the two of you last night, so help me God …”
Gabe pulled his lapels straight. “If anything happened between us last night, it wouldn’t be any of your concern.”
“Unmannerly scut!” Ashbury shouted. “Thou reeky, burly-boned gudgeon.”
Gabe had no idea how to respond to that.
“He curses in Shakespeare,” Chase explained. “It’s annoying, I know. You get used to it.”
Gabe rubbed his face with one hand, weary. He would never get used to this aristocratic brand of madness, and he didn’t intend to. A headache was brewing in his skull, and he’d reached the end of his patience with this cockish, swaggering display.
“Give us your word you didn’t touch her,” Ashbury demanded.
“I don’t answer to you. Neither does she.”
“Penny is our friend.”
“Lady Penelope is a grown woman,” Gabe said forcefully. “If you want to know what she did last night, here’s an idea: Ask her yourself.”
“Ooh! Ooh! Yes! Yes!”
Everyone in the hall went silent. In unison, they swiveled their heads toward the source of the cries: the birdcage. Inside, the parrot gaily bobbed on her perch.
Damn it. Gabe knew where this was going, and it wasn’t anywhere good. At first opportunity, he was going to pluck that feathered menace and roast it for his dinner.
“Pretty girl,” Delilah sang. “Yes! Yes!”
Don’t say it, Gabe willed. Don’t say it.
Delilah trilled for attention, coyly drawing out the suspense. “Fancy a fuck, love?”
Penny closed her eyes in defeat. What a perfect encapsulation of her life. Betrayed by a parrot.
“What …” Emma tipped her head to the side. “What did that bird say?”
Alex wrinkled her nose in thought. “Fancy a cuppa?”
“No.” Chase shook his head. “That’s not it.”
“Fancier fawn glove,” Nicola suggested.
“Wrong again,” Chase said.
“Well what else could it be?” Emma asked.
“‘Fuck,’” Ash declared, exasperated. “It said ‘fuck.’ F-U-C-K, fuck. ‘Fancy a fuck, love.’ That’s what it said.”
Chase tutted. “Really, Ash. Which Shakespearean play would that word be in?”
“That would be in Shut the Hell Up, Reynaud: A Tragedy in One Act.”
Delilah ruffled her wings. “Fancy a fuck, love? Fancy a fuck, love? Ooh! Yes! Ooh! Pretty girl.”
Ash and Chase turned murderous glares in Gabriel’s direction.
“We’re taking this outside,” Chase said. “Now.”
“Wait.” Penny darted in front of Gabriel, shielding him. “It’s not what you think. Delilah didn’t learn any of that from us.”
“You said she belonged to a little old lady,” Emma said.
“A little old lady who lived in a brothel.” Penny put a hand to her brow, realizing she might have coined the worst nursery rhyme ever. “Not that any of this matters.”
“That’s enough, all of you.” Gabriel’s touch grazed the small of her back as he moved to the center of the group. “We weren’t off cavorting in the countryside. Even if we were, it would be none of your damned business.”
The forceful way he advocated for her made Penny’s heart swell.
“Her Ladyship wants to remain in London, in this house. Everyone here wants the same. Once her aunt and brother are convinced to let her stay, you’ll have the added pleasure of being rid of me. We only have a fortnight. So instead of standing around reciting Shakespeare and interrogating a whorehouse parrot, I strongly suggest you offer to help.”
“He’s right,” Nicola said. “We should make a plan.”
“Finally.”