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“Like tempered steel. Or porcelain that has passed through the fire.”
“How poetic!”
“You don’t know everything about me yet.”
“But I have years to learn.”
“All the years I’m allotted, and all that I possess. Which is more than any silly fellow presented to you by the Pratts.”
Penelope knew he didn’t mean his title or fortune. Adversity had given him depths, as it had her, perhaps. “We’ll make a life together, even with disasters.” She looked again and discovered that the agents were gone.
“Not alone,” he answered. “Precisely.”
She had felt so alone, and now she didn’t. “I love you so much.”
“And I love you with all my heart.”
Penelope felt a qualm. “I’m still worried that you’re giving up—”
“Nothing that I value. And I’ve gained far more.”
She took him at his word, but even in the midst of her happiness, she was left with a niggling fear that one day he would find social position more important than he did in this moment.
“Health to the bride and groom,” called a booming voice on the other side of the yard. “And on top of that, our sympathies to the poor man, who’ll soon find he’s living under the cat’s foot.”
“Don’t be a fool, Jem Fallon,” said Dora Foyle. “Any more than you can help, that is. You never could hold your drink.”
“See there?” answered Mr. Fallon, raising his glass higher and winking.
Daniel and Penelope joined the general laughter.
Epilogue
Lord Macklin arrived at Frithgerd four days later with his valet but not Tom. “I’ve brought a confidant of Castlereagh’s with me,” he said when Daniel and Penelope greeted him. “He thought it best to stay at the inn until we’d spoken and he could dismiss those two agents who made such a mull of things.” The earl’s blue eyes glinted. “I understand they’ve been given a new posting at the very back of beyond. You won’t be seeingthemagain.” He turned to Daniel. “He’s also come to take charge of your mother’s notebooks.”
“On my terms?” Daniel asked.
“Yes. I’m sorry about the delay. It took some time to get in to see Castlereagh. He’s a busy man.”
“I appreciate your efforts in the matter,” Daniel said.
“What efforts?” asked Penelope. “What terms? Is this the plan you mentioned?”
Daniel nodded as Macklin turned to her. The earl held out a square of paper. Penelope looked at Daniel, who shrugged his ignorance. Taking the card, she scanned it and gasped. At Daniel’s inquiring look, she said, “This is an invitation to a ball in my honor. At the Castlereaghs’.”
“A token,” Macklin said. “Proof, if you require more than Castlereagh’s personal word and his promise as Foreign Secretary.”
“Those are certainly good enough,” Daniel said. “Though it’s good to have something tangible as well.”
Penelope stared at the bit of paper. Lady Castlereagh was a leader of thehaut ton. Her stamp of approval guaranteed social success. Seeing her own name in such a context seemed like a dream to Penelope. “I don’t understand.”
“In exchange for me freely giving up the notebooks to the Foreign Office, I asked that the Castlereaghs…repair your social standing. With invitations to parties and a show of friendship and acceptance. Lady Castlereagh is perfectly suited to ease your way into society.”
Penelope stared at him, then at Macklin.
“I reviewed your circumstances with Castlereagh,” said the latter. “He was shocked at the way you’d been treated. He doesn’t always agree with Sidmouth, you know, though they are both in the government.”
“This was your doing?” Penelope said, still trying to take it in.
