The Wallflower Wager - Tessa Dare Page 0,19
solution.”
“Goodness. That was fast.”
Penny’s heart pinched. She hadn’t prepared to say good-bye to Marigold and Angus so soon.
“I told you, I don’t waste time. I’ll come around tomorrow afternoon. We can discuss the particulars then.”
“Hold a moment.” Ash shook himself to life. “She’s not discussing anything with you.”
“That’s right.” Chase stood. “Neither is her goat.”
Gabriel alternated a glare between one man and the other. “Who are you?”
Ash puffed his chest. “I’m the Duke of Ashbury.”
Penny intervened. “Come now, Ash. We don’t use titles. Our guest is your neighbor, too. Everyone, this is Gabriel. Gabriel, meet Alexandra, Chase, Nicola, Emma, and Ash. They’re my good friends.”
“Friends, you say? They seem to have mistaken themselves for your guardians.”
“Listen to me, you B-A-S-T—” Ash bit off the words, growled in annoyance, and began again. “Listen to me, you bastard.”
“No,” Gabriel said.
This simple response left Ash nonplussed. But fuming.
“I’m listening to exactly one person in this room,” Gabriel said evenly. “It isn’t you. The lady can speak for herself.”
Oh. Penny’s heart fluttered in her chest.
If by chance he did mean to seduce her, repeating that sentence fifty times over might do the trick.
He spoke directly to her. Only to her. “Tomorrow afternoon. We’re agreed?”
She nodded. “We’re agreed.”
He quit the room without the usual courtesy of taking his leave. The bang of the front door announced his departure.
At length, Chase broke the disbelieving silence. “Good God. That man is intolerable.”
“Yes,” Penny said. “He is.”
Alexandra sat up—no small feat, in her condition—and regarded her with concern. “Oh, Penny.”
“What?”
“The way you said that. You sounded . . . dreamy.”
“I am not dreamy,” she fibbed. “Chase remarked that he was intolerable, and I agreed. If you like, I’ll add that he’s ill-mannered and beastly.”
“Precisely,” Nicola said. “That’s what worries us. He’s just the sort of man you’d be drawn to. We all know how you love a challenge.”
“Believe me, I have sufficient challenges in my life at the moment. I’m not looking to take on one more.”
“At least promise us one thing,” Alexandra pleaded. “Promise you won’t be caught with him alone.”
Penny relented. “Very well. I promise.”
Chapter Eight
Penny would have no difficulty keeping her promise to her friends. She was never truly alone. Her collection of unusual pets had successfully kept men at bay for a decade. She didn’t see any reason that would change now.
The following afternoon, she was just bringing in Marigold from her browse in the square when the rumble of approaching cart wheels pulled her out of the stables and into the alley.
The cart was drawn by a team of the most massive draft horses Penny had ever seen. A middle-aged couple in simple attire sat on the driver’s box. And standing on the bed of the cart, like the marshal of his own parade, was Gabriel Duke.
The team drew to a halt. He vaulted over the side rail of the cart and landed before her.
“What’s all of this?” she asked.
He gestured to the driver and his companion alighting from the box. “Allow me to introduce Mr. and Mrs. Brown.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Penny said, though she wasn’t at all sure why she was making their acquaintance.
Mr. Brown doffed his hat and held it over his heart as he bowed. “’Tis a true honor, Your Ladyship.”
His wife made a deep curtsy. “Never thought to meet with a genuine lady.”
“The Browns own a charming farm in Hertfordshire,” Mr. Duke said. “And they’d be delighted to take the animals off your hands.”
“All of them?”
He grinned. “All of them. Today.”
Penny couldn’t believe it. “How did this happen? How did you meet?”
“It was Hammond who met with them in the market. They’d come into town with a load of . . . What was it, Brown?”
“Parsnips, sir.”
“Parsnips.” Mr. Duke nodded. “Hammond does love a fresh parsnip. Tell Her Ladyship about your farm, Mrs. Brown.”
“It’s a lovely patch of country, milady. Just a smallholding, but it’s ours. Pasture for the horses, and fields of oats, alfalfa, clover.”
“And parsnips,” Penny said.
“Yes, of course. And parsnips.” Mrs. Brown smiled. “There’s even a little pond.”
“Tell me, Mrs. Brown, would you say this little pond of yours would make a good home for an otter?” Mr. Duke asked.
“I daresay it would make the ideal home for an otter, sir.”
“Well, then. How convenient. Did you hear that, Your Ladyship? They can take the otter, too. Go on, then. Box him up.”
Penny narrowed her eyes, suspicious. “I assume Mr. Duke has explained to you that many of these animals require special care?”
Mrs. Brown clasped