How to Wed an Earl Read Free Page B

nobility, she had long ago ceased to hope the earl would ever acknowledge her existence.
    After recovering from her drastic change in social standing, she considered a plain, little thing like her lucky to be exempted from the ordeal of finding a husband, as women were expected to do.
    Penelope had turned twenty-five this year, and if it weren’t for her “engagement,” she would’ve already been dismissed as the next in line for the title of Village Spinster. Already, she harbored more animals than “Mad Sally,” Bouth’s reigning Old Maid, who lived in a cottage with her thirteen cats and spent her days demanding children get off her front garden.
    Actually, Penelope doubted the earl even remembered their engagement. The way everyone was still inclined to believe her claims was a small miracle. She hoped she could keep the pretense up until the time Lord Ravenstone decided to marry.
    It was imperative to keep people certain about her affianced state. Nothing was more important, because the third thing she definitely knew about her betrothal was she had used it to ask the creditors to give Papa a little more time to pay off debts. Papa would be livid if he found out she’d used her engagement as a bargaining tool, but there had been little else the family could have done. Her stepfather had been away on business, and if she hadn’t bargained for more time, they would have already lost Highfield Manor.
    The fourth thing she knew about her engagement was there would be the devil to pay if Lord Ravenstone ever found out she’d been using his name without his consent or knowledge.
    Penelope sighed and dismissed the gloomy thoughts. She refused to allow unresolved issues and forgetful earls to destroy her day.
This rainy, muddy day.
    “Don’t worry, I’m not leaving Rusland anytime soon,” she reassured Mari. Rusland Valley was where Highfield Manor was located, a five-minute horse ride north of Bouth. “I haven’t received any message from Maitland Hall regarding the earl.”
    “Speaking of Maitland Hall,” Mari said in a hushed tone while she looked around to see if anyone was within hearing distance before deciding that it was safe to go on talking, “A gentleman from London checked in here last night, asking about Baron Maitland and directions to your uncle’s estate.”
    Penelope’s eyebrows rose and before she could stop herself, she asked in a tone of mild curiosity, “What did the gentleman want with my uncle?” Mari opened her mouth to speak but Penelope held up her hand for silence as she hastily dismissed the news. “Never mind. Whatever my uncle is up to, it has nothing to do with me. I don’t care what Uncle Hugh does as long as he leaves me and Mama out of it.”
    “Aren’t you the least bit interested in this visitor?” Mari pouted, clearly disappointed with her lack of enthusiasm for juicy gossip.
    “I’ll admit it’s an unusual occurrence. No one ever goes to Maitland Hall.” She considered that for a moment. “Very well, did the gentleman say what the visit was about? And why are you so sure he’s a gentleman?” she couldn’t help but ask.
    “Penelope, I grew up in a coaching inn.” Mari crossed her arms over her chest, looking smug. “I
know
when I see nobility. It’s a skill an innkeeper’s daughter has to learn. This particular gentleman’s clothes were of the finest quality. And even if his clothing were shabby, his accent and good manners would’ve given him away. Why, even his giant of a horse looked positively regal.”
    Penelope reined in her sudden impatience. “Did the gentleman have a name? And what did he want?”
Why did she care?
    “Papa was the one who checked him in, so I don’t know his name. You know how Papa can be about guests’ privacy. But I was the one the man asked about Lord Maitland when I brought his breakfast in this morning. He said he had ‘personal business’ with the baron.”
    “Well, that certainly counts Mama and me out,”