Rogues Like It Hot

by Tamara Gill

  “She is chilled to the bone, father.”

  “Aye, son. I know it. While you are gone, I will see if I can get her to awaken enough to drink a little tea.” He looked at the young woman and at the concern on his son’s face. “Now, off with you.”

  James stared down at Penelope for a few more seconds, then he reluctantly put on his coat and hat and disappeared out the door. After he left, the Parson went to the kitchen where he asked his cook to make a pot of tea.

  He moved back to the front room and sat near Penelope, leaned forward and lifted up prayers of his own for the young woman and whatever it was that had distressed her to the point where she had collapsed in the chapel. His mind wandered and he wondered if she was struggling under the patronage of her grandfather. He knew what a stubborn and harsh man Lord Asbury could be. At the memory, he flushed. He had known Penelope’s mother. He had watched her grow up. He had been her friend before she had run away to be married, and then she had disappeared from his life completely. Looking at Penelope, he too saw a great deal of her mother in her.

  He reached for his Bible and his sermon notes and busied himself with his sermon preparation. He paid no attention when the cook entered with the pot of tea. She set it down and he waited until she left before he poured a cup of the hot brew and moved to kneel beside Penelope to gently shake her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered. She was still chilled - he could see the goosebumps on her lower arms and her neck.

  “Baroness…” he began and her eyes flew open in shock. She stared all about her, trying to make sense of where she was.

  “It is alright. You are in my home.”

  Her eyes grew large and round.

  “Wha…?” she stammered.

  “I found you in the chapel. You had passed out, or fallen asleep, I do not know which, but you did not rouse when I moved you. You were so cold and still, I brought you here and sent my James to Lord Asbury.”

  Penelope relaxed, but then she wrapped her arms around herself. “I am so cold.”

  The Parson nodded. “I expect that you are. Here, I had Cook make you some tea. Try to drink it. See if it won’t warm you.”

  Penelope reached out, shakily, and took the teacup in both hands. She let the warmth of the tea seep into her hands then she gingerly lifted the steaming beverage to her lips. After a few minutes, she smiled and relaxed back into the pillows she was lying upon.

  “That’s right.” replied the Parson as he moved back to his chair. “That will warm you. You just relax there. I am sure that your Grandfather will send a carriage or a physician, maybe even both, to fetch you home.”

  Penelope said nothing, she merely smiled at the man and then closed her eyes as she sipped on the tea. She was embarrassed by her own actions. Once she had finished her cup of tea, she sat up, carefully moved the blanket to the side and got to her feet.

  The Parson glanced in her direction. “You may as well sit back down. No doubt someone is well on their way to fetch you.”

  Penelope shook her head. “I really should be going. I… thank you for your kindness, but I am quite better now. I will just walk back, and if someone comes along meant for me, I will have them turn around.”

  The Parson peered over his glasses at Penelope, his eyes boring into her. He saw that she was determined not to stay, so he stood up and ushered her to the door.

  “Very well. If you will not stay, I cannot force you to. I do hope that you will impress upon Lord Asbury that we did try.”

  Penelope smiled at the man, “I certainly will.”

  He opened the door and Penelope stepped out, and taking a deep breath of the fresh air she started down the path that led to the road. She had barely made it to the lane when James reined his horse to a halt in front of her.

  “Penel… I mean, Lady Shelton! You are awake!” He swung out of the saddle and rushed to her to gently take her face in his hands. “Oh good, you are not so cold anymore.”

  Penelope blushed and stepped away from James. “Sir…”

  James, realising that he had overstepped, stammered, “My apologies. I… you… you gave us all quite a start, you realise. Whatever were you doing in the chapel by yourself? You could have caught your death!”

  Penelope looked at the ground and concluded that he would never understand, so she lifted her head and squarely met his gaze. “I simply felt a desire to pray. I had no intention of falling asleep in there. I suppose that I was not as fully awake as I supposed. Now, thank you for your kindness, but I really must be getting back.”

  James watched Penelope move past him, but he could not let her walk alone. He quickly tied his horse to the gate post and hurried to catch up to her.

  “I know you won’t mind if I escort you home. Lord Asbury would expect it, would he not?”

  Penelope, wishing to just be alone with her thoughts, found it difficult to be her typical kind self. She took a deep breath and pushed away her irritation.

  “You are kind to offer, but I am sure that I will be fine.”

  James, not to be rebuffed, shook his head. “No. I would never hear the end of it from my father, and I certainly do not want to put a wedge between him and your grandfather over something so remiss.’

  Penelope sighed heavily. “As you wish then.”

  She moved with haste down the lane. With James at her side, the walk suddenly seemed a hundred times longer than it had when she had come through there before sunrise. He chattered endlessly about the things that he was learning at the school he attended during the week. He was going to be starting an apprenticeship soon and his father was trying hard to be gracious about it, still disappointed that James had no intention of remaining in the rectory, of committing himself to the church. By the time that they reached her home, Penelope’s head was ringing. At the door, she turned to him and interrupted him mid-sentence.

  “Thank you ever so much for escorting me back. I see that the physician has arrived, and I am suddenly very weary. I can see myself in.”

  She did not wait for a response, but turned immediately and entered Lord Asbury’s home, closing the door firmly behind her. She leaned against the door and took a deep breath. She knew James to be kind and attentive, but she wanted to focus on her own thoughts. She needed to make sense of them. She started when she heard her grandfather’s voice.

  “Lord help me, Penelope!!! What on earth...?” He was rushing toward her from his study, the physician close behind and Augusta and Violet staring from the doorway.

  Penelope plastered on her brightest smile and hoped that she could convince everyone that she was alright.

  “I am sorry, grandfather. I did not mean to alarm everyone.”

  “What took you out to the chapel before sunrise?” Lord Asbury asked, his voice high in agitation. He turned to the physician.

  “Please, sir, see to her right away.”

  Penelope raised her hand. “Really. I am quite all right. I just need to rest. Please.”

  Lord Asbury sighed heavily. “So, you do not want the good physician to look at you?”

  Penelope suppressed a giggle. “He is looking at me, Grandfather.”

  Lord Asbury’s eyes grew wide, as did the physician’s, but suddenly Lord Asbury started to laugh. After a moment, the physician did as well, and Penelope joined in. She stepped to her grandfather and laid her hand on his arm. She looked into his eyes and said softly.

  “I had a troubling dream that drove me to the chapel. I merely fell asleep. I assure you that I am fine, though I am tired. Might I excuse myself so that I may rest?”

  Lord Asbury took Penelope’s hand in his own and squeezed it warmly.

  “Of course, my dear. I will see that your friends are entertained. Come down when you are rested and feeling better.”

  Penelope leaned in and kissed her grandfather on the cheek. She nodded to the physician and then to Augusta and Violet as she passed them to the stairs. Minutes later, she was sound asleep in her room, too exhausted to even consider what had woken her to
begin with.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Oh! Penelope! Father wrote me a letter!” Augusta rushed into the garden, waving her father’s letter like a flag. She rushed to the bench where Penelope was sitting with Violet and joined them.

  “Oh, good! How are he and your mother?” Penelope asked.

  “They are quite well, he says. He goes on about a great deal of family business, but here is a part for you. Shall I read it?”

  Penelope nodded and Augusta read:

  Please pass on to Lady Shelton - I have had word from His Grace. Jenkins is to continue on as usual. I am to carry on as well, but set in motion proceedings to be enacted upon His Grace’s imminent return – which I had already done, in expectation of this command. He assures me that he will have everything well in hand very soon. I hope to meet him within a fortnight.”

  Augusta stopped.

  “Don’t stop, please. Read on,” Penelope entreated her friend.

  Augusta handed her the letter, “but that is all.”

  Penelope skimmed over the letter and reread the part about the Duke. He was not immediately removing Lord James and Lady Abigail from his home, and he was immediately drawing awareness to their deception. She wondered why. Then suddenly it hit her. The Duke was coming back to England. He might be back in two weeks. She smiled with excitement.

  She glanced at the sisters seated next to her.

  “I think that I am beginning to get an itch to go back to London. Do you think that your parents would allow me to stay with you again?”

  Violet and Augusta, who by this time knew that Penelope was in love with the Duke, even though she had never said it out loud, smiled at each other knowingly, and then nodded eagerly at their friend.

  “I am certain that my mother would be delighted to have you again!” Augusta said excitedly. “I will write to ask right away. When do we think we can begin our journey home?”

  Penelope suddenly grew solemn. There was no guarantee that he would even want to see her. What if he returned home and did not think of her at all? After all, he had much to take care of where his sister and brother-in-law were concerned, and that was likely to take a great deal of time. Still, she was eager to see Mrs. White and learn from Jenkins what had been transpiring since she left. Plus, she so enjoyed the company of her friends and knew that they were already eager to be home.

  “I have a suggestion. Why don’t you both go ahead and return to your parents. No doubt they miss you very much. I am sure that my Grandfather will appreciate some time with me for a little bit. Then once you are both settled, you can ask your parents if I might be welcome again.”

  Violet nodded, “A much more practical suggestion. After all, I am sure that our parents will need us as they prepare for this year’s Season and getting Augusta ready for it.”

  “Won’t you be participating, Violet?” Penelope asked.

  “Oh. I always go. However, I no longer have any expectations. I simply stand by with my mother and enjoy the show as all of these younger women strut around like doves.”

  Augusta smacked her sister on the leg playfully. “Come, Violet. You did enjoy your time strutting around, admit it.”

  Sadness crossed Violet’s face, “I may have, for a time…” She suddenly stood up and excused herself. “If you don’t mind, I think I will go for a walk.”

  Augusta and Penelope started to invite themselves to join her, but Violet's face grew so sad and solemn, they both just sank back onto the bench and watched her walk out through the garden gate.

  “Augusta, did something happen to Violet in a past Season?”

  “I cannot tell you more than this: She fell madly in love with a young soldier. Father was against the match. Violet tried to sway Father, but he put his foot down and Violet had to turn the young man’s advances away. She heard, not even six months later, that he had married one of the young women whom Violet had gone to school with.”

  “Surely, her prospects are not at an end!”

  Augusta shrugged her shoulders, “They wouldn’t be, except that she has no desire to be married now. She simply does not care.”

  Penelope and Augusta watched the lonely figure of Violet move along the pasture beyond the garden, and they both sighed.

  ***

  He stood outside the solicitor’s home and knocked firmly on the door. He was wearing sailor’s clothing, a bit too large for him, but he had no desire to be recognised. His shoulder ached under the bandages that the loose clothing hid, and his skin itched where it was healing. He scratched at the thick stubble on his cheeks and chin, knowing that the facial hair added to his wish to remain incognito. Seconds after he knocked, the door swung inward and an old butler stared at him.

  “We do not give handouts,” and he began to shut the door.

  “I have a message for Lord Thomas from one of his clients, sir.”

  The butler stretched out his hand, “Well, hand it over then. I will see that he gets it straight away.”

  He shook his head. “I was told to deliver the message in person. To repeat his words.”

  The butler frowned. “Very well. However, my Lord is entertaining, so I cannot allow you in like that through the front. Come around to the servant’s entrance. You can wait in the kitchen.”

  He nodded and immediately moved around to the side of the house, following a narrow alley to the back lane, where a gate gave entry to a small garden. He saw the kitchen door, open to the garden, the incredible scents of meats and freshly baked goods wafting into the air. He had not realised how hungry he was, but the scents caused his mouth to water and his stomach to rumble in protest. He was not accustomed to hunger pangs. He moved to the kitchen door and without waiting to be invited in, he stepped into the room, immediately noted a bench by the table, and took a seat.

  The cook and kitchen maid stopped in their tracks and were on the verge of chasing him out, but the butler rushed in and addressed him.

  “Lord Thomas would like your name, sir.”

  “Just a sailor, sir. But my message is from the Duke of Derhamshire. He said to tell Lord Thomas that my words are for his ears only and are in to regard to someone called Abigail.”

  The butler nodded, his troubled frown deep. He looked at the dirty sailor. Outwardly, he looked like any other and smelled like one too. However, there was an air about the man that did not sit right. He did not appear weather worn. He spoke too clearly. He sat a little too straight. The butler’s eyes bored into the sailor’s eyes and he suddenly realised who he was looking at. His jaw dropped just a bit, but he clamped it shut. He nodded knowingly at the sailor then looked at the cook.

  “See to it that this man is fed immediately. Whatever he desires. Then have him led upstairs to one of our guest rooms…”

  “Upstairs? Surely…”

  The butler looked at the cook, who had interrupted him, and his voice dropped low with clear command that brooked no room for argument.

  “See to it!” He then rushed from the kitchen.

  The sailor ate heartily and thanked both the cook and her kitchen maid as he wiped his mouth clean. He stood up and the kitchen maid took him up a back flight of stairs and led him to a guestroom at the back of the house. Once she had closed the door behind him, he allowed himself to relax. He moved to a chair in front of the hearth and sat to warm himself. He sat in deep thought for what seemed to be hours before a low knock sounded at his door.

  “Enter.”

  The door opened and Lord Thomas rushed in, closing the door firmly behind him. He stood in silence for a moment to take in the disheveled man before him, but he recognised him instantly.

  “Well… When Barnes told me that he suspected it was you, I did not believe him, but I see that he was correct.” Lord Thomas approached Nat and shook his hand warmly. “Welcome back, Your Grace. I was not expecting you for another week!”

  Nat nodded and sat back down. “That was as I hoped.” Lord Thomas sat down in the other chair and waited for Nat to continue.
“Your letter disturbs me to no end. I have a duty to protect my sister and I have a duty to see justice served. I have no desire to see my sister in ruin so I need your counsel and I have a plan as well.”

  Lord Thomas leaned forward.

  “I have already begun the process of annulment for your sister, Your Grace. She simply needs to sign the document. I am taking the approach that Lord James professed to have the funds to be able to support her, and promised that as part of the marriage. His actions in not only not having those funds, but in acting to defraud you, constitutes fraud in the performance of the marriage agreement. However, I do not see how that will serve her justice, nor how we will get her husband to admit to his deception in your name. And no matter what we do, there will be some scandal, and some impact on her reputation, in a long-lasting way.”

  Nat smiled, “No one knows that I am here except you and Barnes. I wish to keep it that way. I will see Abi and make her see reason. She will sign that annulment or she will face the full weight of the law as well as her husband. Then I will witness his debauchery myself and make myself known to the entire party. I will need your help to get law enforcement to that place and I will need them to know and validate my personage so that there is no doubt when I confront Lord James. Some scandal we can weather – especially if the scandal to Lord James is far greater than to Abi.”

  Lord Thomas nodded. “It will still be quite an outrage, Your Grace. Then once it goes to court…”

  Nat shook his head. “No. It will not go to court. For I will not press charges. At least, I do not intend to.”

  “But, Your Grace…”

  “Hear me out.” Nat stared into the fire. He was infuriated with his sister and her husband but he had no desire to ruin his sister or to further draw his own name into the tabloids. He looked back at Lord Thomas “Assuming that my sister signs the annulment, I will also offer Lord James a way out. If he agrees to take a small sum from me and take the first ship that leaves for the Americas, I will not press charges against him. Let him simply disappear. Then any rumours surrounding my family will fly for a short time, but they will disappear as they always do when a new drama arises with someone else. His father, the Marquess, will be distressed, but it is his own fault for raising a son who would do such a thing.”