The steer and the goat, she insisted, must go to the same loving home. Apparently they were tightly bonded, whatever that meant, and refused to eat if parted.
The laying hens did not actually lay with any regularity. Their previous owners had grown frustrated with this paltry production, and thus they had come into Her Ladyship’s care.
And the lucky bastard who accepted a ten-year-old hedgehog? Well, he must not only provide a steady supply of mealworms, but remain ever mindful of certain “traumatic experiences in her youth.”
He had to read that bit three times to believe it.
Traumatic experiences in her youth.
Unbelievable.
The world teemed with children who received less food and attention than she gave the least of these creatures. Gabe knew it well. He’d been one of them. At the workhouse, he’d subsisted on broth, bread, and a few morsels of cheese every week—when his diet hadn’t been restricted as a punishment for misbehavior, which it usually was.
He didn’t have time for this, and he didn’t trust himself to linger over the task, either. That would mean calling on Lady Penelope at least as many times as there were creatures on this list. Considering they had less than a month to resettle the animals, that would mean seeing her virtually every day. Too many opportunities for stupidity.
Loving homes, his eye. He was tempted to escort all the creatures on a loving journey to the nearest butcher. What Her Ladyship didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.
Then again, if Her Ladyship happened to discover it later, it would likely come back to hurt him. And even Gabe wasn’t quite so ruthless as to send an innocent hedgehog to slaughter.
Not the butcher’s, then. But there had to be somewhere he could take them all in one go. He didn’t suppose a menagerie would be interested in an ancient hedgehog or a trio of nonlaying laying hens. Releasing a compromised goat and its best friend, Angus the Highland steer, into the middle of Hyde Park . . . ? That seemed unlikely to go unnoticed.
A city the size of London offered few, if any, possibilities.
What he needed was a farm.
“Then what happened?” Emma held the measuring tape stretched from Penny’s neck to her wrist, waiting on her answer.
“And then I kissed him,” Penny answered quietly. “And he kissed me back.”
“No.” Emma took three paces backward and stared at her from the opposite side of the Ashbury House morning room. “Oh, Penny.”
“I was caught up in the moment. He’d just rescued Bixby, and I was grateful. And when his shoulder flexed beneath my hand, his muscles felt so—”
“You were feeling his shoulders?”
“Only one of them,” she protested, as if this fact made it any less improper.
Penny stepped down from the dressmaker’s box, sank onto the divan, and buried her face in her hands. Emma spooled her measuring tape and came to sit beside her.
Penny laid her head on her friend’s shoulder. “It’s such a relief to see you. I haven’t had anyone to confide in. Thank you for coming to Town.”
“Naturally, we came. You said you needed us. Besides, I ought to thank you. For years now I’ve been dying to give you a new wardrobe. I’ll draw up sketches, make patterns. Then we’ll see that you have the best of fabrics and the most talented dressmakers in London.”
As a seamstress-turned-duchess, Emma could have abandoned needlework in favor of a life of leisure. Most women in her place certainly would have done so.
However, Emma was not the usual sort of woman, and Penny was ever grateful for it. Their common status on the fringes of genteel society was the reason they’d become close friends.
“I don’t know what’s come over me,” Penny moaned. “Whenever he’s near, I feel like an animal in mating season. I think I’ve fallen in lust.”
“If you have, it isn’t the worst thing in the world. Many a woman has fallen victim to the same contagion. Including me. If you don’t wish to see Mr. Duke, simply avoid him.”
“I can’t avoid him. He’s offered to help me with my aunt’s demands, and even if he hadn’t, he lives next door.”
“Good God, Penny.” The Duke of Ashbury stormed into the room. “Do you know what kind of brigand you have living next door?”
“Gabriel Duke,” she answered.
“Gabriel Duke, that’s who.” Ash glowered at the window. He always looked fearsome, due to the battle scars twisting one half of his face. If not for the giggling child attached to his boot, he might have looked truly intimidating.
“Richmond, darling.” Penny extended her arms, and the boy toddled into her embrace. “Look how big you’ve grown.”
“Your new neighbor is an infamous blackguard,” Ash continued. “And now Emma tells me you’re consorting with the man?”
“I’m not consorting with him. My aunt has given me an ultimatum. If I don’t earn her approval before the month is out, my brother will take me back to Cumberland.”
Penny’s stomach churned. Ever since her aunt’s visit, the prospect of returning to Cumberland had loomed over her like a thundercloud, oppressive and dark. The mere idea of living in that house, sleeping in that room . . .
She couldn’t go back. She wouldn’t.
“Mr. Duke offered to assist me with a few tasks. It’s in his financial interests that I remain in Bloom Square.”
“Oh, I’m certain it’s in his interests. Haven’t you heard what he did to Lord Fairdale?”
Penny bounced Richmond on her knee. “I hadn’t heard, actually.”
“I’ll tell you. First, he bought up all the man’s paper. And I mean all of it. Tracked down every last creditor, from an unsettled wager at White’s to his outstanding balance at the glover’s, rolling them all into one insurmountable debt. Then he drove down the value of stock in a shipping company, leaving Fairdale with nothing of worth to sell. He was left with nothing but a bit of barren land and the crumbling ancestral house.”
“Goodness.”
“There was nothing of goodness in it. Sheer villainy. He not only mowed that family to field stubble, he salted the earth beneath them. And Fairdale hasn’t been his only victim. The man means to gather England’s best families into a bundle of sticks and break them over his knee. You cannot have anything to do with him. The danger is too great.”
“The danger of what?”
He spread his arms. “Isn’t it obvious? He wants to ruin you.”
“Ash, please.” Emma covered her son’s ears. “Not in front of Richmond.”
“He’s isn’t even two years old. It’s not as if he can understand.” Nevertheless, Ash ceded to his wife’s request. “The man means to R-U-I-N you.”
Penny sat up straight. “Are you suggesting Mr. Duke intends to S-E-D-U-C-E me? How absurd.”
It was absurd, she told herself.