by Abigail Agar
“It needs to be fixed here, though,” Penelope said as she pointed out the tuft of fabric that refused to lie properly.
Lady Winchester made a noise of dissatisfaction. “With as much as I pay for these, there should be no such flaws.”
“Well, I was a bit too busy for the last fitting,” Penelope interjected. “So, she likely just had to go on old measurements.”
With a sigh, Lady Winchester conceded the point with a nod. “It shall have to be corrected, though. Have you any other dresses in a similar hue? What about the one you wore to the magistrate’s dinner last month? That one was beautiful on you.”
“Do you think it is appropriate to wear the dress again, so soon?” Penelope asked as she eyed the dress she wore with a faint frown in the mirror.
Lady Winchester scoffed, “I doubt you will see any of the same people as attended that horrible dinner. Your father makes a point not to invite anyone below a certain station to his parties, especially mid-Season.”
“Speaking of Father, have you seen him this morning?” Penelope asked her mother as she motioned for Gina to get the buttons on the back of the dress she wore.
Lady Winchester nodded. “Yes, briefly at breakfast. He was in a hurry to get started on some proposal or another. He did mention that he would like to speak with you. Whether that is to do with this evening or your employment of that woman, I do not know.”
“Mother, Father and I have already sorted out Miss Tanner’s employment, you know that,” Penelope reminded her mother. Lady Winchester did not respond and walked over to where several dresses were laid out on the bed. “Do you like any of those?”
With a slender finger, Lady Winchester indicated a golden dress. “This one would make you look very nice if you do not like the idea of repeating your dresses so quickly.”
Penelope shrugged. “I just did not want to show poorly. I know that you were upset with me. If you think the blue would be better, then I think it would do fine.”
“Let us try this golden one first,” Lady Winchester said. “It is a rather festive piece. Is this one that we had made during the winter holidays?”
Penelope pursed out her lips as she wiggled out of her current dress with Gina’s help. “I think it might be. Although, I do not recall actually wearing it.”
“We really should make more use of dresses if we purchase them,” Lady Winchester said with a shake of her head.
Penelope brightened. “We could donate them.”
“You shall be the death of me, Penny,” Lady Winchester said with a sigh. The woman’s face held the hint of a smile, which softened her words. “Gina,” Lady Winchester said as she picked up the golden dress carefully. Gina quickly came over and took the dress.
In a minute’s time, Gina had helped Penelope pull the dress up onto her frame. Unlike the last dress, there were no untoward puckers or creases in this dress. It lay smoothly upon Penelope’s skin. “It feels a bit itchy,” Penelope said with a frown. “Perhaps that is why it was not worn.”
“Sometimes women must suffer to look their best,” Lady Winchester said with a patient smile. “Here, those cream-coloured shoes just inside the door of the wardrobe. They would look lovely with this dress.”
Penelope, despite her reservations, allowed her mother to help Gina dress her. When she finally stood in front of the mirror, Penelope hated that she had to admit the dress did look beautiful on her. “I do hope that everyone appreciates how uncomfortable this dress is,” Penelope said bitterly. “It is lovely, though.”
“It really is, Miss,” Gina said with appreciation. “You look like a fairy queen.”
Lady Winchester clucked her tongue. “Do not get too ahead of ourselves, but the dress does certainly become you well, Penelope.”
“I suppose I could stand it for a few hours,” Penelope said with a frown at her reflection.
Gina suggested, “Perhaps we could put a soft petticoat underneath it, Miss?”
“That might work, barring it is not too thick. The dress is very well-fitted,” Penelope said as she ran her hands over the soft, yet reflective material. “What sort of fabric is this?”
“I think it is wool with dye in it of some kind,” Lady Winchester said with a wrinkled brow. “I shall have to ask the seamstress.”
Penelope sighed. “I certainly hope it is cool tonight. Wool will be quite hot with a petticoat under it.”
“Really, Penny, you have to have some resilience,” Lady Winchester scolded.
Penelope put her hands on her hips. “I would like to see some of the men wear wool on a warm night and be expected to dance.”
Gina bit down on a laugh, which earned her a scathing look from Lady Winchester. “Men wear wool the same as women, Penelope. Now, take that dress off before you tear it with your theatrics.”
“I was not being theatrical at all,” Penelope disagreed as she stood still so that Gina could unbutton her. As she pushed the top of the dress off her shoulders, Penelope added, “I still think the other blue one would be fine as well.”
“You are welcome to wear whichever you choose,” Lady Winchester informed Penelope. The way she said the words let Penelope know very clearly that she did, in fact, not have the right to choose to wear anything other than what her mother had decided upon.
Penelope sighed. “I like the golden dress, Mother.”
“Splendid,” Lady Winchester said with a smile.
Penelope asked, “What will you be wearing, Mother?”
“Oh, I do not know. I suspect a white dress would be nice. I do like the way the colour compliments my skin,” Lady Winchester said as she flicked the question away with a flip of her wrist. Penelope had no doubt that her mother had her dress picked out along with jewellery for months in advance, but there was no need to point that out.
Speaking of jewellery, though, made Penelope peer over at her jewellery box. “Mother, so long as you are here, would you mind helping me pick out some jewellery to wear? You are far better at matching up the colours than I am.”
“You really should be developing your eye for such things, Penelope,” her mother scolded, but Penelope could see the look of pleasure at being asked on her face.
As her mother went over to the vanity to look through Penelope’s jewellery, Gina helped Penelope get her soft muslin gown back on. “Thank you, Gina,” Penelope said with a smile as the maid helped button up the dress.
“Shall I put these dresses away for you now, Miss?” Gina asked as she gestured towards the dresses on the bed.
Penelope nodded. “Yes, please.” While Gina worked, Penelope walked over to where her mother was holding up two necklaces. “I have always thought that was a lovely pendant,” Penelope said as she referred to a necklace her mother was holding in her right hand. “It was Grandmother’s, was it not?”
“Yes,” Lady Winchester said with a smile. “She wanted you to have it. It was made by your grandfather for her on their thirtieth wedding anniversary.”
Penelope took the necklace from her mother and slipped it around her neck. “It is a rather touching gift.”
“You mean for a man that was so uncaring?” Lady Winchester asked. She sighed. “I read my mother’s journals as well, Penelope. I quite feel that it was more your grandmother who did not care for your grandfather than the other way around.”
Penelope frowned. “Marriage often seems mismatched. Are the pairings never true?”
“Are you still fretting over that?” Lady Winchester shook her head at her daughter. “Why must you make a misery out of something that does not need such elaborate thought?”
Penelope stared at her mother in disbelief. “If marriage requires no thought, then what does in this life? Surely picking a partner for your life should entail some sort of thoughts in one’s brain.”
“There is quite a difference between thinking over the situation and rambling about it like a girl fresh out of her schooling. You are a well-tutored young lady, and you should act like it, Penelope,”
Lady Winchester said disapprovingly as she folded her hands together in front of her.
Penelope put her hands on her hips. “I read your journal as well, Mother. I know that Father changed, and he was not what you thought he was.”
“People often change, Penelope,” Lady Winchester said in exasperation. “It is impossible to know what someone is like until you truly live your life with them. It is always a risk and a gamble, but you do your best to see through to the possibilities.”
Penelope turned to Gina. “That will be all, Gina.” Gina gave Penelope a little nod before she exited the room looking relieved to get to escape before the two ladies began quarrelling. Penelope turned back to her mother. “When was it exactly that you noticed he was not the man you thought he was?”
“Is this truly appropriate?” Lady Winchester looked a bit uncomfortable.
With a sigh, Penelope said, “I may be going through this sometime, very soon. I would like to know.” She softened her voice and tried again at the look on her mother’s face. “Please tell me what it was like to be wed. I find myself so nervous and unsure of everything; it would help to hear it from someone who has been through this process.”
“Well,” Lady Winchester said as Penelope saw her mother’s face take on a touch of tenderness. “What exactly do you wish to know?”
Penelope sat down at her vanity and began combing out her hair as she thought. “When did Father change, truthfully, into that person that you did not recognise?”
Penelope had expected her mother to protest the question as she had at every other turn, but instead, Lady Winchester lifted her shoulders and looked up at the ceiling. She spoke in a soft voice as if she were remembering back to her first days of marriage. “It was after our wedding night, our true wedding night. We had to travel, you see, and ended up spending the night of our wedding ceremony in a carriage. He was quite irritated by it all.”
“So, after you spent a true night together then?” Penelope pressed as she paused while brushing her hair. She eyed her mother in the mirror.
Lady Winchester nodded. “Yes, he just changed after that. He seemed less attentive. I took it to heart, naturally, being a young, naive wife, but my mother told me that it mattered little. Soon enough I would have children, and that was my focus.”
“Were you ever sad that you only had one child?” Penelope asked as she thought about what her mother had said. She really did not want to think of what would happen if she married Jules. Would the man truly transform into someone else entirely if she were to share a bed with him?
Lady Winchester, unaware of Penelope’s thoughts, smiled. “No. I was rather happy to only have the one. Your father had wanted sons, but I told him that one brilliant daughter would give him a son sooner or later. After all, a son by marriage is still a son.”
“Father never seemed disappointed,” Penelope noted.
Lady Winchester came over and looked at Penelope in the mirror. “Of course he was not. Once he laid eyes on you, why you had him wrapped around your finger. I swear that sometimes he loved you more than his money.”
“I do not know that I would go that far,” Penelope said with a laugh. As she thought again of Jules, her expression sobered. “Mother, do you think there is a chance that a man can be loving and kind his whole life?”
Lady Winchester frowned. “That is just a fairy tale for young girls,” Lady Winchester scolded. “You should know better than that if you are to go into marriage as a woman.”
Penelope could see the bitterness in her mother in those moments. Before her mother had just seemed stern, but it was clear that her father had left Penelope’s mother with a hurt inside of her that Penelope could almost feel in the woman’s gaze. Penelope feared her own heart may grow cold just from the thought of it.
Perhaps that would not be the worst thing. “I am so sorry that you had to endure that.”
“It is in the past,” Lady Winchester said as she came up behind Penelope and put her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “I just want you to promise me something, Penelope.”
Penelope met her mother’s eyes in the mirror. “No matter what you see in your Duke, promise me that you will make a good showing of yourself tonight.”
She hesitated before she nodded her head slowly. “I promise that I shall try my best to put my best foot forward. I do wish to present myself well. I know that you think I do not value such things, but I shall try my best for you.”
Lady Winchester gave Penelope’s shoulders a squeeze. Before either of them could say anything else, there was knock on the door. Gina poked her head in at Penelope’s call of “Enter.”
“I apologise for the interruption, but this letter was just delivered for you, Miss,” Gina said as she slipped into the room. “I thought you might want to see it quickly as it appears to be from the Duke of Richmond.”
Lady Winchester smiled. “That is very thoughtful of him to send you a letter.”
“Yes,” Penelope said with a pleased smile as she took the letter from Gina. “I must admit that I am a bit nervous to see what it says. What could he possibly have to say that could not wait until tonight?”
Gina gave Penelope an encouraging smile. “Men are odd things, Miss.”
“Not that odd I would think,” Penelope laughed as she reached for her letter opener. She slit the envelope open and pulled the letter out.
Penelope read over the letter, and with each passing word, her heart sank. She did not dare look up lest Gina and her mother see the look on her face. “I should like to read over this on my own,” Penelope said in a quiet voice that she managed to hold steady.
Lady Winchester said, “Of course. Gina, go and report downstairs to help Margaret in the kitchen. We shall give Penelope some privacy for her letter.”
“Yes, Mistress,” Gina said with a curt dip of her head. Penelope caught the girl’s eye just before she turned to leave, and there was worry on Gina’s face.
Lady Winchester gave Penelope a smile. “I shall see you before the party to finish getting ready, yes?”
“Yes, Mother,” Penelope said with a forced smile. She held the smile until the woman had left the room then her expression crumbled. The letter held nothing of promise.
He was not coming. Her Duke was not going to be here because he had gone against his word. He was off chasing shadows again.
Penelope bit her lip and tried in vain to stop the tears from spilling out of her eyes. Giving into the misery finally, Penelope fell forward onto her desk on her arms and wept. Her heart broke as she thought of the betrayal she felt.
Why should she feel so betrayed by his not attending a party? Penelope sighed and wiped her eyes. She should not be angry with him, yet she felt as if she had been shoved aside.
He promised. He had said that he was willing to give that all up. Revenge was not what he wanted out of life anymore, yet here was a letter stating that he had found a lead that he could not ignore.
His words begged her to understand, and she did. She truly felt as if she did, yet she could not shake the feeling that perhaps this was foreshadowing that her mother was right. Perhaps Jules was more like her father and all the other men than she wanted to admit.
When it came to something he wanted, over Penelope, the man certainly seemed willing to throw Penelope aside. She wallowed in her misery and drowned her thoughts as she wept into the sleeve of her muslin dress. There was very little she could do except to wait, and that made it all the worse.