Lady at last

by Annabelle Anders

  Periwinkle was obviously reluctant for Hugh to have access to what appeared to be the more truthful version of estate accounts. The man paused and then rubbed at his bottom lip thoughtfully. “I’ve some entries I’d like to finish today, m’lord, if you wouldn’t mind.” Again, he reached for the book, but Hugh had already picked it up himself.

  “No hurry, Mr. Periwinkle. Now, good day to you.” Hugh sat down in the chair that had overturned earlier and opened the book to begin perusing it himself. When he did not hear the steward exit, he glanced up dismissively. “Leave me now, sir.”

  It didn’t take long for all of Hugh’s suspicions to be confirmed. This book was, in fact, the real accounting of the estate. And the figures far more detailed and concise than anything he’d been sent. If Periwinkle hadn’t been so criminally inclined, he would have made an excellent steward.

  But where ought he to start? Catching a glimpse of the bottle of scotch Periwinkle had been enjoying earlier, Hugh decided this quandary would have to wait until tomorrow. He walked over to the cabinet and poured himself a hearty amount of the aromatic spirit.

  And then that memory again. Of Penelope covering his hands with hers and lifting the drink to her own lips. This recollection was not hazy, nor dreamy, nor did it feel in any way like something of his imagination. No, he remembered he’d suddenly noticed the blue specks of light surrounded by her otherwise emerald eyes.

  He shook his head and drank the liquid in one long swallow.

  The warmth filled him almost immediately. He closed his eyes. Of course, it had been a dream! Good God, the alternative was unthinkable!

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “I so wish you could stay longer, Penelope.” The Duchess of Cortland, Lilly Redmond, did not look away from the babe in her arms as she spoke. Breaking ducal tradition, Lilly had decided she would not have a wet nurse for the child. She was determined to feed the child of her own body. “You can do it, little Edward,” she told the baby now as she encouraged him to suckle. Her endeavor had not been an easy one.

  Penelope leaned forward and watched as the tiny infant turned his head from side to side, eluding his mother’s fingertips. He then let out a few disgruntled cries, causing Lilly to lift him to her shoulders and pat his little bum. “What will I do without you, Pen?” Lilly asked, looking over at her this time.

  Penelope smiled reassuringly at her friend. In spite of the challenges the duchess experienced as a new mother, Lilly was more beautiful than ever. Her unusually colored golden eyes looked a little more tired than normal, but her hair was done up in an elegant twist and her clothing was, as always, immaculate. “You’ll do just perfectly, Lilly. Look at him. He’s plump and healthy. I don’t think there has ever been a happier baby.” She said this in spite of the grumbling sounds coming from the cherub.

  Lilly glanced back down at the baby and sighed in agreement. Her smile widened when the little marquess let out a satisfying burp. “He is, isn’t he?” And then a frown of concern marred her forehead. “But what is it, Penelope? You haven’t been yourself since Edward was born.”

  Penelope sat up straight. What did Lilly see? Was her condition so very obvious? “I—well, er, I’m just feeling a little restless, that’s all.”

  A familiar odor suddenly began filling the room. Oh, not the biliousness now! The nausea she’d felt upon waking had gone away after nuncheon. It was not supposed to come back! Lilly mustn’t learn the truth of Penelope’s situation! For she would be inclined to tell Cortland, who was Danbury’s best friend. Penelope nonchalantly lifted her hand to her mouth and inhaled the fragrance of her soap from earlier.

  She need not have been concerned. Lilly had become aware of the odor as well and rose from the rocking chair. Her concern for Penelope temporarily forgotten, she laid the baby down on a padded dressing table. “At least we know he’s eating enough! Right, little man?” She cooed to the infant and then glanced back over at Penelope. “As long as you know you’re welcome anytime. I don’t ever want you to feel as though you’re not wanted here.”

  Lilly’s words, simple though they were, suddenly had Penelope on the brink of tears, and she glanced out the window. The hills were a deep green and the sky ominous. Was a snowstorm approaching? That would not be advantageous at all! In an attempt to ward off her weepiness, Penelope forced herself to think of anything but her apparent situation. She’d felt unusually emotional throughout the past week. This was unacceptable. I am not a watering pot!

  She discreetly wiped at her eyes before turning back to Lilly. “Oh, I know, Lilly. You and Cortland have been kindness itself.” The baby gazed adoringly up at his mother. “I’ll most certainly miss playing with little Edward. But I probably ought to go home and spend some time with Mother and Father before the season, for I’m contemplating forgoing London this year.” The season would kick off in a little more than a month. She most definitely needed to get a few things ironed out before then. She couldn’t have Danbury trolling through the young debutantes now! Not when she was carrying his child.

  Penelope stood up abruptly at the thought. “I’ve told Rose to get everything packed today so that we can leave first thing in the morning.”

  “Then we should do something special tonight,” Lilly said while wrapping the infant tightly in his soft blanket. “Wait a few more days, Penelope, and I will plan a going away supper for you! I’ll feel horrible if you leave without a party first.”

  Penelope shook her head. “You have far more important things to concern yourself with than a silly dinner party for me. Besides, I think I’m going to try to get to sleep early tonight.” She couldn’t stand the thought of having to be civil to a roomful of Lilly’s guests. Normally, Penelope enjoyed socializing, but this was not a normal time for her at all. She already longed for the cool sheets of her bed. She’d never realized that her current condition would cause her to feel so tired. A nap just now sounded heavenly. And if she were left alone, she could have a good cry as well.

  Lilly looked disappointed but not overly so. Right now, all Lilly’s energies were focused upon being a mother. She did not really wish to hold a dinner party. She was simply being kind.

  A mother.

  The thought was nearly enough to summon those tears again.

  She desperately needed to find Danbury.

  Later. She would track him down and all would be well.

  But first, she needed that nap.

  The road heading north was not a well-maintained one. And with the intermittent snowflakes along the way, the driver seemed to move at a snail’s pace, making the journey more exhausting than usual. Even Rose’s spirits flagged by the time they drove through Manchester.

  They had been traveling for just over a week and the inns they had stopped at had not been nearly as comfortable as the lodgings Penelope usually patronized. She’d never traveled this far north, so, not trusting her driver to obtain the best directions, she’d discussed their route with every innkeeper along the way. Aside from riding up top with her driver, however, she was forced to trust that he could get them to Danbury’s estate. She would not relish having to travel additional miles unnecessarily.

  She’d not heard any positive comments about Augusta Heights. The recent years’ crops had gotten smaller and smaller, and the estate itself now employed few villagers. Penelope’s understanding was that the steward had gradually put them all off, either by failing to pay fair wages or failing to pay at all. Sitting in the open dining area with Rose the evening before, Penelope had collected all sorts of information by merely eavesdropping.

  Viscount Danbury’s massive estate ought to have been a positive economic force for the small villages nearby. Augusta Heights, it seemed, was instead a scapegoat for all that was wrong.

  She was more certain than ever that Danbury required her assistance.

  The coach jerked as they turned onto a long drive. The smaller road had even more ruts and holes in it than the road before. Penelope slid across the bench into Rose as the c
arriage tilted a little and then righted itself.

  “Thank God,” Rose echoed Penelope’s own sentiments. “I don’t believe I could have tolerated another day on this godforsaken road.”

  Penelope peered out the window. Even during the tail end of winter, it was painfully obvious that the landscaping had been completely overcome by wild vines and shrubbery. The road had nearly been overtaken as well.

  And then there was the manor in the distance.

  It was… slightly lopsided. Yes, that was the problem. Danbury was going to need an engineer to come and take a look at the foundation. It desperately needed repair.

  Broken windows riddled the upper floors, and one of the chimneys appeared to have caught fire sometime in the past.

  She could only imagine what condition the interior was in.

  They rolled along for a few more minutes, bouncing and creaking, until at last they came to a stop in front of the crumbling steps leading up to the main house.

  Penelope did not wait for one of the outriders to set down the step for her. She pushed the door open herself and jumped out onto the ground. Rose waited graciously for the groomsman to pull out the step before accepting his hand as he assisted her down from the conveyance.

  Penelope was looking about curiously when a potbellied gentleman opened the front door and ambled down the steps. The man’s skin was a sallow yellow color, and his jowls swayed from side to side as he walked. He did not look happily upon the new visitors.

  “Are you lost, madam?” he shouted as he approached her. “You must have taken a wrong turn a ways back.”

  “I am not, and no, we have not taken a wrong turn. Who might I ask are you, sir?” If this man was Danbury’s steward, it would explain the comments she’d heard about the estate. He was puffed up full of his own self-importance and yet his shirt was soiled, and his pants needed mending. The yellowness of his skin indicated he imbibed more than was healthy and the additional flesh on his person that he ate more food than his share.

  “I am Mr. Matthew Periwinkle, steward of Augusta Heights. Who might you be, madam?”

  Penelope lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes at the pitiful man. “I am Miss Penelope Crone, daughter to Baron Riverton. My driver and outrider will be utilizing your stable.” She glanced over at the tumble-down condition of the building in question. “And my maid and I shall require superior accommodations as well. Please inform the viscount that we are arrived.”

  The end was all bluster on her part, but it was obvious that this man needed to be put in his place. She was of half a mind to sack him herself, for when he’d gotten nearer to her, she smelled whiskey on his breath.

  Which, considering recent events, was more than a little unnerving.

  Gathering her gown about her, she lifted it out of the way so that she could climb the disintegrating steps safely. She was forced to open the heavy door herself, as there was no butler in evidence, and then remove her own wrapper and bonnet. She brushed the dust off a nearby chair and draped her belongings over it.

  The foyer smelled of mildew and decay.

  “Hello!” she shouted. Her own voice echoed back mockingly.

  A shiver ran through her. Perhaps she ought to have kept her wrapper on.

  “Hello!” she shouted again.

  This time, she heard a door open and close upstairs and then footsteps approaching the landing.

  A rush of emotion swept through Penelope when Danbury paused at the top of the stairs. The last time she’d seen him, he’d been… Oh, Lord. It had been just over one month since she’d been with him, since she’d lain with him.

  And now here he was, his shirt hanging out of his trousers, no cravat or waistcoat, and at least three days’ growth of whiskers on his face. “What on earth has happened to you, Danbury?” she asked, forgetting the rehearsed greeting she’d planned over the past few weeks. “Good Lord, you look like death warmed over.”

  The man standing above her pinched the bridge of his nose and then rubbed his eyes. “Penelope? Penelope Crone, is that you? What in God’s name are you doing here?”

  Ignoring his questions, she beckoned him to come down the stairs. “I thought you were coming up here to take matters in hand! Where is your butler? Do you even have a housekeeper? And your steward, he’s got to go, Hugh! That man is robbing you blind.”

  Danbury shook his head. Blinked several times, and then descended the stairs cautiously. Perhaps because he was uncertain as to his own stability or perhaps because he was just a little bit frightened of her.

  After stepping off the bottom step, he grasped Penelope by the shoulders and looked searchingly into her eyes. “They do have blue…” he mumbled nonsensically. And then, getting ahold of himself, he addressed her again. “Why are you here, Penelope? Has something happened with Cortland? Did my mother send you?”

  Penelope could not look him directly in the eyes. His proximity, after… Well, she was more than a little flustered. Did he not remember anything? How could a person not remember doing that? He had been, well, inside of her! She bit her lip and lowered her gaze from his to stare at the floor.

  “I, um. Well…” A tiny gray creature peeked out from beneath the settee. “Oh, good Lord, Danbury, there are mice running about this place! Did you not stop to think that you might need a little assistance after ignoring this estate for over a decade? Did you not think that perhaps a friend might feel inclined to come to your assistance?” She finally worked up the courage to meet his stare again. “I’m here to offer my assistance. God knows you need it.”

  Danbury shook his head, as though trying to wake himself out of a dream of some sort—or nightmare, whatever the case may be. “You… have come all this way… to help me with the estate?” He looked somewhat incredulous at the thought.

  “Do you think that because I am a woman, I do not know how to go about running an estate? Do you not wonder how my parents have prospered so well? Did you really think that my father was responsible for doubling his assets over the past decade? Do you not know me, Hugh Chesterton?”

  “But, Pen—”

  “Don’t Pen me, Danbury. Now, let’s take a look at your books. And then we’ll need to find a replacement for that Periwinkle fellow, and we most definitely need to find you a good butler and a housekeeper. It ought not to be a problem, though. There are dozens of people in this area looking for work.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  As a gentleman, Hugh suddenly felt all of the responsibility of Penelope Crone fall squarely upon his shoulders. A lady did not travel over one hundred miles without a chaperone. It simply was not done! What was the baron thinking, allowing his daughter to gallivant all over the country alone?

  And now this managing female was making herself comfortable in his home, ready to tackle the problems he’d been contemplating for over a week.

  He ought to send her packing. Confirmed spinster or not, her presence here put his bachelorhood in definite peril. She was craning her neck around at all the disrepair as she led them both toward his study.

  “This place is filthy, Hugh! How have you been living here?” She pulled a handkerchief out of her skirt and began wiping down any visible surface on the ancient wooden desk. As she did so, she appeared to be organizing papers and envelopes into various piles. “That Mr. Periwinkle is a crook if I ever saw one. Look at this, Hugh. I’d be willing to bet this is a second set of books. It’s most likely completely different than the reports he’s been sending you.”

  “I already—” Hugh began.

  “If you’ve already discovered his thievery, then why is the man still lurking about?” Penelope interrupted him. Glimpsing more receipts on the floor, she turned and bent down to retrieve them, giving Hugh an unusually disturbing view of her rounded derriere.

  Disturbing because he hadn’t before considered the shape of Penelope’s body—well, he hadn’t for a very long time. Like most men, Penelope’s bluestocking tendencies had extinguished any spark of interest he’d ever ackno
wledged for her. He must have been up here alone too long because his hand suddenly itched to caress, squeeze, and lightly slap…

  “And I’ll bet the man has finished off most of the contents of your cellar by now. Did you not notice the yellow color in his eyes or the tint of his complexion? Ah, yes!” She held out a piece of paper with several scrawls upon it. “Take a look at this. These bills are long overdue! It seems as though your steward has swindled nearly every shop in town!”

  Hugh grabbed the papers out of her hand. “Not nearly every shop, Penelope. Every single one.” He dropped into the settee. “The estate owes a fortune in funds, and I’ve no idea what Periwinkle has done with them. This mess isn’t going to be cleaned up any time soon.” He’d put some feelers out to locate a new steward, but these things took time.

  Glancing up, he realized that Penelope was watching him strangely. She looked different, somehow, softer perhaps. “Is it boredom that has driven you to travel all the way up here, Pen? Because to be frank with you, if anyone of consequence discovers your presence here, we’re both doomed.”

  Penelope grimaced and then walked over and sat down beside him.

  “Damn me, Pen, why is it that I always forget my manners when I’m around you?” He had a vague recollection of failing to stand before when she’d entered a room but could not pinpoint exactly when that had been. When she sat down, Hugh got a whiff of her scent and felt a stirring of… something. He’d not noticed Penelope’s scent before. It was clean, not cloying, but pretty.

  Penelope looked over at him with wide innocent eyes. Yes, by God, there were blue flecks flickering around in the green.

  “Nobody knows I’m here.” She shrugged off his concern. “What we need to do is go through all of this paperwork and put together an accurate set of books.”