{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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God, what a dreadful woman.
Penelope could hear Lady Bucklebee going on and on as the woman stood in the doorway to the shed. Penelope would have undoubtedly interrupted her by now if it were not for how Lady Bucklebee was holding the men inside at gunpoint. Penelope's heart throbbed in anxiety, but she would not let herself think of it. She must focus on her approach.
From the pitches of voices inside the shed, Penelope knew there were three very important people there, people she cared very much for. And with how Bucklebee was raving, as though she had gone quite mad, Penelope felt incredibly uncertain.
Were the men armed? Unarmed? She knew that Beckett, specifically, was raising his voice angrily, and it made her mouth run dry. Lady Bucklebee was declaring that she would spread the news of their affair if Beckett did not oblige her requests.
It took everything in Penelope not to scream to Beckett that she did not care. She did not care who knew about the...affair.
She hated that word.
It did not feel like an accurate descriptor of what Beckett was to her.
Sliding along the side of the shed, Penelope was scooting closer to Lady Bucklebee when she heard her brother's voice demanding her to lower her weapon.
From what Penelope could tell, she did not.
Her stomach flipped.
Why hadn't she connected the dots earlier? Lawton's involvement had made all the sense in the world, but what about how often Bucklebee regaled of her times in France? She spoke of her opportunities, and Penelope had been too focused on affairs of the heart and otherwise to think it could be anything else.
Bucklebee lived in the opposite direction—further from the coast. The access to the port was here, at Hutton House. Staging the weapons on Penelope's estate would draw less attention. People came and go consistently. Visitors went largely unnoticed. And as a widow, Bucklebee likely needed funds to support her extravagant lifestyle, all her carting back and forth between England and France.
Penelope tensed, leaning in to peer through the cracks in the shed's outer walls. She saw the shadows of the men, Beckett's looming larger than all the rest. She felt tears prick her eyes as she recalled how she had stood precisely where he was while they kissed without care.
All she wanted right now was to kiss him again. She wanted that damn woman to stop pointing her godforsaken gun at Beckett Ash because she needed him alive.
Even as Penelope's pulse ticked up, she could take a steadying breath. She could make out that they were at a stand-still. Beckett, Griffin, and Leo were all well-armed, meaning that if they simply had a distraction, they might be able to overtake Bucklebee.
Not wanting to risk waiting until it was too late, Penelope closed in. Tension and anxiety swirled in her gut as she wiped her sweaty palms on her dress. She wished she, too, had a weapon at her disposal. But there hadn't been time to find one if she'd wanted to tail Bucklebee.
