Bound By A Scandalous Secret

‘Come sit.’ Penford offered Lorene his arm and led her to a sitting area, with its pale pink brocade sofa and matching chairs that their mother had selected for this room. He placed her in one of the chairs and he sat in the other.

The Marquess gestured to Genna to sit, as well.

She hesitated. ‘May I look at the room first?’

‘By all means,’ Penford responded.

‘You lived here, I believe,’ Rossdale said, remaining at her side.

‘I did, sir,’ she said too brightly.

So far he was not divulging the fact they’d met before. He stood politely while she gazed at another familiar plasterwork ceiling, its design mimicked in the octagon carpet below. Again, nothing was changed, not one stick of furniture out of place, not one vase moved to a different table, nor any porcelain figurines rearranged. She gazed at her grandmother’s portrait above the fireplace, powdered hair and silk gown, seated in an idyllic garden.

Rossdale said, ‘A magnificent painting.’

‘Our grandmother.’ Although neither she nor Lorene bore any resemblance to the lady. ‘By Gainsborough.’

‘Indeed?’ He sounded impressed.

Genna had always loved the painting, but it was Gainsborough’s depiction of the sky and greenery that fascinated her the most, so wild and windy.

‘I am pouring claret. Would you like some, Genna?’ Penford called over to her.

She felt summoned. ‘Yes, thank you.’

She walked over and lowered herself on to the sofa. Rossdale sat next to her.

‘Does the room pass your inspection?’ Penford asked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

He handed her the glass of wine.

Was he censuring her for paying more attention to the room than the people in it? Well, how ill mannered of him! It was the most natural thing in the world to want to see the house where one grew up.

‘It is as I remember it,’ she responded as if it had been a genuine question. ‘I confess to a great desire to see all the rooms again. We were in much turmoil when we left.’ When he’d sent them packing, she meant.

Penford’s face stiffened. He turned to Lorene, shutting Genna out. ‘Do you also have a desire to see the house?’

Lorene stared into space. ‘I have put it behind me.’

‘I imagine Tinmore Hall is much grander than Summerfield,’ he remarked.

Grander and colder, Genna thought.

‘It is very grand, indeed,’ Lorene responded.

Genna turned to Rossdale. ‘I expect the house where you grew up would make both Summerfield House and Tinmore Hall look like tenants’ cottages.’

His brows rose. Now he knew she knew his rank.

‘Not so much different.’ His eyes twinkled. ‘Definitely grander, though.’

‘Ross grew up at Kessington,’ Penford explained to Lorene. ‘You have heard of it?’

Her eyes grew wide. Now Lorene knew Rossdale’s rank, as well. Wait until Lorene told Tinmore whom he’d missed meeting.

‘Yes, of course.’ Lorene turned to Rossdale. ‘It is in Suffolk, is it not?’

‘It is,’ he replied. ‘And it is a grand house.’ He grinned. ‘My father should commission someone to paint it some day.’

He leaned forward to pour himself more wine and brushed against Genna’s leg.

Secretly joking with her, obviously. What fun to flaunt a secret and not reveal it.

‘I paint, you know,’ she piped up, feigning all innocence. ‘I even paint houses sometimes.’

‘Do you?’ Penford said politely. ‘How nice to be so accomplished.’

Genna waited for him to ask Lorene her accomplishments, which were primarily in taking excellent care of her younger siblings for most of their lives. He did not ask, though, and Lorene would never say.

Genna could boast on her sister’s behalf, though. ‘Lorene plays the pianoforte beautifully. And she sings very well, too.’

Lorene gazed at her hands clasped in her lap. ‘I am not as skilled as Genna would have you believe.’

‘Perhaps you will play for us tonight,’ Penford said, still all politeness.

‘After dinner, perhaps?’ Genna suggested.

‘Perhaps after dinner you would show me the house, Miss Summerfield,’ Rossdale asked. ‘It would kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. Ease my curiosity about the building and give you your nostalgic tour.’

How perfect, Genna thought. Lorene would simply spoil her enjoyment if she came along and Lord Penford’s presence only reminded Genna that all her beloved rooms now belonged to him. With Rossdale, she could enjoy herself.

She smiled. ‘An excellent plan.’

Chapter Three (#u4effa6c4-5cae-55ce-a353-1c7099a2e2a9)

Ross enjoyed the dinner more than any he could recall in recent memory. Genna regaled them with stories about the house and their childhood years. She made those days sound idyllic, although if one listened carefully, one could hear the loneliness of neglected children in the tales.

Still, she made him laugh and her sister, too, which was a surprise. Heretofore Lady Tinmore had lacked any animation whatsoever. Dell was worse, though. He’d turned sullen and quiet throughout the meal.

It had never been Dell’s habit to be silent. He’d once been game for anything and as voluble as they come. He’d turned sombre, though. Ross could not blame him. He simply wished Dell happy again.

In any event, Ross was eager to take a tour of the house with the very entertaining Genna.

After the dessert, he spoke up. ‘I propose we forgo our brandy and allow Miss Summerfield her house tour. Then we can gather for tea afterwards and listen to Lady Tinmore play the pianoforte.’

Dell would not object.

‘Very well,’ Dell responded. He turned to Lady Tinmore as if an afterthought. ‘If you approve, ma’am?’