Free Fenella J Miller by A House Party Page A

and hidden until dinner was
served.
    ‘That wasn’t so bad, was it,
sweetheart?’ Ned enquired as led his future bride into the dining-room.
    ‘It was horrible; you know I
hated every minute. If it’s going to be like this when we marry I wish to
elope.’
    His bark of laughter startled
Foster who was heading the procession; seeing the dignified butler lose his
composure restored Penny’s good humour.
    The party eventually broke up
after midnight. It had been a delightful evening after all, Penny decided as
she snuggled down amongst her feather pillows. The French count had been
charming. She had also enjoyed the company of Mr Weston, who as Ned’s heir,
might have been put out by their announcement. However, he had been as pleased
as they were.
    Ned had told the assembled
company that as soon as the remainder of his guests arrived the next day,
Monsieur Ducray was going to inflate his balloon and tether it on the lawn.
Flights would then be available for any foolhardy enough to wish to leave the
ground.
    She stretched contentedly,
remembering the few minutes they had spent alone before parting. Ned was
insisting they brought forward their wedding day. However he had been strangely
evasive when she had tried to press him to fix the date. He had insisted he had
business matters to finalise before he was free to marry.
    From the fierceness of his
goodnight kiss, the reluctance with which he let her go, she knew he was as
eager as she to tie the knot. She was strangely restless, just the thought of
him made her pulse race. Penny rolled over, enjoying the coolness of the sheets
on her overheated skin.
    He had
eventually persuaded her to agree to be the first to ascend in the wretched
balloon. If the weather was still clement then they had a secret dawn
assignation for the day after tomorrow. She hoped it would rain.

 
    Ned poured himself a large
measure of brandy before collapsing into an armchair in his study. He needed to
think - he couldn’t retire until he had matters straight. There was something
about the French émigré that unsettled
him. He was charming and glib, but Ned had spent too long in the clandestine
service of his government not to be aware when something was not quite right.
    The count’s slippers had been
soiled when he arrived in the drawing-room. They had obviously been hastily
wiped dry with a cloth. He was certain the figure Penny had seen in the park
had been this man and intended to send someone over to look tomorrow morning.
It was a matter of urgency he finished this business for Wellington. Until that
was done he wasn’t free to marry.
    There was a
tightness in his pantaloons and he shifted uncomfortably. Dammit! He was
letting his desire to bed his bride overcome his duty. This had never happened before – but then he’d
never been in love before. Over the past ten years he had worked assiduously
for his government, putting his personal wishes to one side. He grinned - well,
if he was honest he did run a ladybird or two when he was at his townhouse in
Brook Street.
    He shot upright sending a spray
of liquid over his jacket. Damnation! He would have to sever the connection to
the actress he had stowed away in a small house near Vauxhall Gardens. His man
of affairs could see to that, after all he had done it several times before.
    He would be celibate from now
until the night he could make love to Penny. How could he have been so blind
last year? If he had only recognized his feelings they could have been married
already and he would have been free of his obligations to the duke.
    Thoughtfully he considered the
facts. The full moon coincided with high tide at the end of the month - this
would be an ideal time for any traitor to transfer gold to a smugglers’ ship.
The count had joined Ducray recently, but was this before he had issued the
invitation to fly in Ipswich, or after?
    But what about
the attempt to abduct Penny? He was sure her decision to ride to had been overheard by someone.