{2022 WATTY SHORTLISTER} {18+ COMPLETED}
England, 1842
Lady Hutton, otherwise known as Penelope Chapman, cares not that her husband has a wandering eye. That is, until he wanders away completely--all the way to the continent with his mistress, wh...
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Griffin appeared utterly confused. Which made two of them.
How the hell had Griffin not mentioned in the years that he knew Beckett that his sister was a marchioness?
He'd known the man was a bastard with estranged, titled parents. But he assumed maybe they were a baron or a viscount or at least maybe not one of the wealthiest men in England. Perhaps not a duke.
And he didn't mention that while he was estranged from his parents, his sister, on the other hand, was apparently one of his closest kin.
Of course, Penelope was close with him. She wouldn't be one to place blame on a man for being born a bastard when it was not his fault. Penelope would never.
"Griff," Beckett said, coming down to meet him at his level.
"Beckett?" His friend put out his hand in greeting, even though his gaze was bewildered. "What are you doing—"
"Colonel Ash is here as my personal guest," Farrington jumped to say, ready to recite the same lines he had to everyone else whenever they questioned Beckett's presence at the estate.
However, Farrington appeared uncertain. He didn't know what to make of their apparent acquaintance, his head twisting back and forth between the two men.
"It is fine, Farrington," Beckett cut in before the man attempted to say anything else. The colonel stepped closer to Griffin, taking his extended hand to shake firmly. In a low voice, he said, "I'm here on behalf of the queen."
Griffin drew back, only more puzzled. His gaze swept over Beckett before their hands dropped.
Penelope, meanwhile, was shaking her head, back and forth between the two men. Her confusion was evident and admittedly adorable. Her nose scrunched, and her curls bounced. Adorable.
"You...You know each other?" she asked, her fingers wiggling from Beckett to Griffin.
Beckett turned to her, trying not to think about how he'd been seconds, breaths, from kissing her senseless not five minutes ago. But now, his head was clearer, refocused, back on straight. What the devil had come over him? He could not risk his assignment in such a way. And especially now that Griffin was in the mix. God, that would be a disaster.
His friend would likely cut off his manhood if Beckett should ever lay a finger on his sister.
Beckett cleared his throat. "I know your brother well, my lady."
It was a simple sentence, but it was laced with meaning. He stared at Penelope, watching as a flush came over her face. As she swallowed slowly. Her eyelashes fluttered. Just barely. Just enough for Beckett to notice that something was affecting her.
And that something was him.
"Let us gather in the parlor, perhaps?" Farrington suggested, drawing Beckett's attention away from Penelope as the lord bounced on the balls of his feet.
