“Do remember to sit up straight,” Cecily ordered, peering out the window. “And don’t talk too much. You know you have a habit of prattling on. And don’t run off with him in tow, just let him lead. And if you go for tea, watch you don’t stain your dress. And when—”
“Mother, please.” Penelope groaned as she fixed the ostrich feathers in her hat.
Cecily turned, her face tight. “Darling, I’m only trying to help.”
“You can help by sitting down and having a cup of tea.”
“At a time like this?” She appeared scandalized. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” She crossed the room and took Penelope’s hands. “Darling, this is the beginning of the rest of your life.”
Penelope slipped out of her mother’s grasp just as the butler entered to announce Theodore Harrison’s arrival.
“Dear, me!” Cecily snatched a fan from a nearby side table and began fluttering it widely.
“Mrs. Elmsly, Miss Elmsly.” Theodore Harrison glided in, holding two bouquets. “How lovely you both look.”
“Mister Harrison, it’s so nice to see you again,” Cecily crooned, pink behind her fan.
“Likewise.” He held out a bunch of large, snowy blooms. “These are for you, Madam. The magnolia means nobility, a trait you exude.”
Penelope thought her mother might faint from joy as she took the flowers, fanning forgotten. “Goodness! I’ll have a maid place these in water straight away.”
“And Miss Elmsly,” he offered her a bouquet of pale pink blossoms with heavy, fragrant, heads, “please accept these ranunculus. They reminded me, at once, of your charming nature.”
“Thank you, Mister Harrison.” Penelope smiled, sniffing the petals. “I’ve never seen these before.”
Theodore broke into a grin. “I’m rather a floral enthusiast. I plan on having a moderately sizeable greenhouse when I acquire a country estate.”
“A country estate,” her mother murmured as a maid came to collect their gifts.
“Shall we be off?” Theodore asked, holding out an arm for Penelope. “Delightful to have seen you again, Mrs. Elmsly.”
“The pleasure is mine,” Cecily sang.
The butler handed Theodore his hat and Penelope a parasol to ward against the light spring sun. Theodore’s two-person cart was stationed outside the Elmsly townhouse, attached to a large dapple-gray.
Theodore helped her up to her seat before letting himself in and taking the reins. “I thought after a ride through the park, we might see Kensington Gardens, if that would be agreeable?”
“Exceedingly,” Penelope assured, enjoying the feeling of the light breeze as the horse trotted down the lane.
“Do you care for horses, Miss Elmsly?”
“Fine creatures, and I do think you have a rather gorgeous mare.
“Thank you. Horse breeding is a hobby of my brother’s.”
“Do you ride much?”
“When the occasion calls. I enjoy the rogue foxhunt, now and then. Do you?”
Penelope slid her eyes toward Theodore, rather liking the way the sunlight shone on his angular face. “Very much so. But I do enjoy a carriage ride much more.”
Theodore grinned. “Then I’m pleased I suggested it.”
The park came rapidly into view. It was bursting with life. All of society frequently met on the trails. The courting couples weaved between carriages and a stray rowboat glided through the lake. Since it was firmly in the view of many people, it was one of the only places a man and a woman could go together without a dowdy chaperone trailing behind. Penelope knew that to be seen together in the park would solidify their courtship, in a way.
She sat up a bit straighter as people looked their way, feeling a faint gust of pride at being seen with Theodore Harrison. No one would dare speak ill of their courtship, nor would anyone call her an old maid behind their fans. She opened her parasol to keep off the sun. Penelope couldn’t risk having browned skin in her wedding dress, after all. She briefly thought of how Theodore would look upon her as she strode gracefully down the aisle on their wedding day, his eyes alight with joy. A perfectly matched pair, they would be the envy of all the guests and Penelope would be confident in her fine choice of a kind and loving husband as she said her vows.
“I’ve been planning another trip to the west Indies,” Theodore told her as the horses trotted along.
“How lovely.”
“You like the exotic, am I right?”
“Very much so. I would love to see the Indies. I’ve heard there are massive elephants and the air is thick with spice.”
He nodded, his gaze still on the road. “Yes, they even ride elephants as we ride horses.”
“Truly?”
“Yes. I’ve even ridden one.”
Penelope smiled. “I’m so jealous. I’ve only ever seen one in the zoo and you’ve seen one up close and rode it. What’s it like?”
“Like a giant horse with exceedingly wrinkly skin,” Theodore told her as he pulled the horses to a stop beneath the shade of several oak trees.
Penelope watched as he tied the reins to a stake beside another pair of bays with an empty cart. The horse pulled toward the grass and began munching happily as Theodore helped her from the cart. He held out his arm and led her to the entrance of Kensington gardens.
“Please tell me more about your floral interests. Would you say you’re quite passionate?” Penelope asked, twirling her parasol a bit with her free hand.
“Yes, I’m extremely interested in botany.”
“Is that why you’ve planned on building your own greenhouse?”
“I find it rather vexing when I’m searching for a particular hothouse flower and the local florists do not have it readily available.”
Penelope thought it rather odd that one would go to such lengths for a plant, but chose not to say so. “Then I do hope you’ll be able to tell me plenty about the flowers we see today. I must confess, I don’t know many facts, just what I think is beautiful.”
“It would be my pleasure!” Theodore beamed, patting her hand affectionately.
The pair strolled arm in arm through the gardens. Penelope mainly listened as Theodore told her about each blossom and sometimes she asked a question. He also plucked flowers as they went, and by the time they had reached the carriage, her hands were overflowing.
She pulled a decorative ribbon from her hair and held it out. “Would you mind tying the stems, for me?”
“Certainly.” He deftly tied a sturdy bow before helping her into the cart.
When the Elmsly townhouse came into view, she drooped a bit in the carriage’s seat. She had found Theodore to be a continuous gentleman and almost wished they could have prolonged their outing. Still, it would have been improper of them to stay out any longer as the sun was rapidly going down.
“Might I call upon you again?” Theodore asked as he helped her from the jaunting cart.
“I would look forward to it,” she replied as they walked up the townhouse stairs.
“Until then.” He took her hand, giving it a small kiss in parting.
“Until then.”
Penelope had hardly passed her umbrella to the butler when Cecily came flying down the stairs. She was completely out of breath, and barefooted, when she reached the landing.
“Tell me. Everything,” she puffed, her hand on the railing.
“Mother, you’re going to have a fit.” Penelope helped her into the drawing room and sat her down.
“Tell me.”
“Goodness, you’re persistent.”
“I must be when you’re so tight-lipped,” she snapped. “Now, tell me how it went. What did you speak of? Was he a gentleman? Did many see you on his arm?”
“We spoke of horses and flowers, he was a perfect gentleman, and the park was quite busy. May I retire now?” Penelope asked, already heading to the door.
“Wait, no, tell me more!” Cecily called at her daughter’s retreating back.
She ignored her and dashed up the stairs to her room, calling for a candle on her way.