Free Petticoat Rebellion by Joan Smith Page B

was not harassing me in a—a physical way.”
    “He didn’t try to molest you?”
    “No, I would not have minded that. That is—”She colored up as she realized her words were capable of misinterpretation. “I could have handled that,”she modified. “My meaning is that the man is a crook. He offered to sell the copy I was making, try to pass it off as an original Chardin to what he called a friend of his. Some friend! He wanted to sell the man a forgery, for a couple of hundred pounds!”
    Penfel considered this a moment, then said, unexpectedly, “It must have been an excellent copy.”
    “That is not the point! The man is a crook.”
    “And a rash one, to suggest chicanery to a young lady of impeccable morals.”
    “He was at pains to cozen me first. He was sympathizing with my hard life, to sound me out. He learned how eager I am to go to Italy to view the famous masterpieces there.”
    “You never mentioned that to me!”
    “That is neither here nor there. We discussed how expensive travel is. Impossible really, and how those who have fine art don’t appreciate it.”
    “I wonder what name arose in that respect?”
    “We didn’t mention names. I had no idea what he was up to, but I wager it was my complaints that made him think I could be corrupted. And this wretch is running tame at Penfel. I would not be a bit surprised if he picked up an expensive trinket or two before he left.”
    “He called to see me on business. I would hardly call it running tame.”
    “What was he doing in the gallery? He had no business there. You said yourself it is well separated from the part of the house where the servants are working. As he seems to be interested in art, he might very well be looking around with a view to robbing you.”
    His lips clenched together. “Thank you for notifying me. Is there anything else?”
    Penfel made a show of concern, but some sixth sense told Abbie she had made no impression whatsoever. She trusted her next statement would open up his eyes.
    “Yes. I saw him from my window just now. He was walking back to the fair. He stopped Lady Susan and talked to her for quite two or three minutes.”
    “Was she not with John and Singleton?”
    “They walked on with the other girls. Lady Susan was alone with him. He was flirting with her.”
    Penfel shrugged his broad shoulders, like a man who couldn’t—or wouldn’t—take responsibility for grave matters. “No accounting for taste. I hardly see what harm could come to her during a few moments’chat, on my property, with John a few feet away.”
    “Lady Susan—all the girls—are just at that vulnerable age where their minds are full of men, yet they have no real experience of them. Lady Susan might very well find a rogue like O’Leary attractive. She has already been singing his praises.”
    The only emotion she could read was impatience. “The girls are in your charge. You must keep an eye on them,”he said.
    “You should not allow him to run tame about the estate when you are entertaining schoolgirls.”
    “The arrangement with O’Leary was made some time ago. I could not break the contract without being liable for his lost revenue.”
    Abbie’s patience was growing quite as short as Penfel’s. “Then, why on earth did you agree to let the girls come here?”she demanded.
    “The question is why Mama let any of you come!”he shot back. “If it was an attempt to see me shackled to a stiff-rumped lady, it will not fadge.”
    Abbie emitted a gasp of astonishment. As Lord Penfel’s fiery gaze was aimed at her, she felt for a fleeting moment it was herself he meant by the stiff-rumped lady. Their eyes locked in combat, then a slow smile crept across his face. When he spoke, his voice was burred with innuendo. “Lady Susan is not to my taste. If she were a charming artist, it might be quite a different matter.”
    Abbie felt the full force of that devastating smile. It was the eyes that were so disarming. They seemed to see