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.Marchford, sitting across from her, remained somber and his posture rigid.“What an eventful evening,” commented Penelope, not knowing where to start.The entire day had been a series of emotional flips centered on the forbidding man sitting across from her.She wondered what put such grim tightness about his mouth.“Yes.I appreciate your help.Though had I known such danger was nigh, I would never have requested your assistance.” Marchford frowned more severely.Now she understood what was irritating the man; he was reprimanding himself for unwittingly putting her in danger.It was actually quite kind that he was so disturbed.“You had no way of knowing a murderer was about.”“No, I did not.” He spoke the words as a curse upon his ignorance.“Surely you cannot blame yourself.”“I most certainly do.”“Nonsense.Besides, I was never in any real danger.” She glanced at Marchford to judge his reaction to that statement.He remained impassive.“It was the poor footman who was the only target.He had not the kindest of hearts, but I do feel sorry for him.”“Do not waste your sympathy.He was a traitor to the Crown and got nothing more than he deserved.Though I wish he had revealed the identities of the conspirators before he died.”“He must have known something of importance,” agreed Penelope.“What do you make of the note?”Marchford shook his head slowly.“I am unsure.Since our enemy clearly suspects we are in possession of the note, whatever was going to happen at four bells has almost certainly been changed.”“So where do we go from here?” Tracking down spies was only part of the question.The word we reverberated within her chest.Was there any form of we?“I would like to review everyone you can remember with whom the footman spoke, everyone to whom he gave a drink.Tomorrow we can have the servants interviewed, see if they know anything.Perhaps Grant can be of service in our inquiries.” Marchford was all business.“I believe Jonathan had only worked there a short time.I should ask Genie to speak to her housekeeper and get the references he provided.Perhaps they can be of assistance,” Penelope responded in kind.Ironic that discussing traitors against the Crown was the safest topic of conversation.“A capital idea,” said Marchford, leaning back on the squabs, his body more relaxed.It was good to see him let go of self-recrimination.“I am glad you approve.” Pen smiled and let her eyes half close under the gentle rocking of the carriage.It had been quite an exciting evening, and she was more than ready to find her bed.Memories flooded back of what happened earlier when they were in her bedroom.What would have happened if…Pen forced her eyes open and sat up straight.The Duke of Marchford had become an amiable acquaintance and had trusted her to assist with his investigations for the Foreign Office.He also had hired her to help him find a bride, not be his bride.He was a duke, after all, and she was, in the end, nothing more than his grandmother’s companion.She must not let her imagination carry her into unrealistic flights of fancy.She cleared her throat.After his kindness to her, she repented her mischievous suggestions for a mate.“I regret we were not able to find you a suitable bride tonight, but do not lose heart.We shall continue the search.”“For some reason, your words only bring a sense of doom to my poor heart.”“I am certain your heart will recover,” Penelope clipped in return.She had the wretched realization that she owed him an apology.“I do apologize if some of my suggestions were not suitable, but the season is starting early since Parliament is in session.I am sure there will be some new—”“No debutantes.” The duke was firm.“I beg your pardon?”“No doe-eyed teenagers with fribble in their heads and spots on their faces.”“They don’t all have spots,” protested Penelope.“Besides, the most beautiful young ladies are generally engaged before the end of their first season.You need to consider those just entering society.”The duke shook his head.“I would rather have a wife with something in her head worth saying than a chit with a beautiful face and not one intelligent thought.And what on earth made you think Devine’s infant niece would make me a suitable match?”Penelope looked away and straightened her skirts.Silence fell within the carriage.Though she could not meet his eye, Penelope could feel the heat of his intense glare in the dim light of the carriage lantern.“You knew she would make a poor match.” The duke spoke in a low voice.“You did that on purpose.” He leaned forward.“It…it was a suitable match.You are on quite friendly terms with the Lord Admiral,” Pen defended weakly, still unable to look at him directly.She hated that she was not a better liar.Marchford moved across the carriage and sat next to her, causing her heart rate to jump.“You purposely attempted to connect me with the most unsuitable matches possible!”“No…yes!” Penelope turned to him, tired of trying to maintain the facade.“Why?” Marchford’s voice raised and he leaned closer to her.“Why would you do such a thing?”“Because you said my mother’s gown was horrible.” Penelope’s voice also rose.“I intended no insult to your mother.I’m sure she looked very well in this gown, fifty years ago when it was first made.” He gestured down her body.“Well! This gown is hardly fifty years old,” she defended, her mind doing a quick calculation and coming up with a shockingly high number.“And even if it is a bit mature, it is still very serviceable.” She leaned closer to the infuriating duke.“Serviceable? The style is utterly outmoded, no matter how much you have attempted to have it redone.Why, the flounces are practically falling off.” He slid closer and touched a flounce at her knee.The traitorous fabric fell off in his hand [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]