“Lady Penelope. A pleasure.” Ash reached for Penelope’s hand, intending to bow over it, but she only laughed. Instead, she placed her ungloved hands on his shoulders and pulled him down for a hug. As if it were nothing. “Come in, come in.” Penelope threaded her arm in his and led them inside. “And you must call me Penny. We’re old friends. I’ve seen you in your nightshirt. You don’t expect me to use ‘Your Grace,’ I hope.” “Ashbury will suffice.” “Ash,” Emma said. “He goes by Ash among friends. At home, it’s pumpkin.” He sent her a look. She smiled in return. “Ash it is,” Penny said, patting
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