A Duchess to Fight For: A Historical Regency Romance Book

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A Duchess to Fight For: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 30

by Abigail Agar

Without looking up from the swatches, Cecilia said, “Oh, good. You’re here. We need a plan, dear. Maybe, we could go out every other day to shop?”

  “If that is what we need to do,” Penelope said. She thought her mother might enjoy shopping more than she would. It might as well be fun for someone.

  Penelope sat and poured herself tea. She leaned back in her chair, sipping and watching her mother.

  “What’s on your mind, Mother?”

  Cecilia looked up at Penelope. “I think we’ll have to host tea for some of the ladies of the ton and their daughters. With Avery’s title, it’s expected of us. He has asked twice if I set the date. Of course, he’ll drop in on the ladies for ten minutes when they have all arrived and chat with them. It’s expected. Do you want to help me choose a date?”

  “No, Mother. You can do that. Who are you are inviting? Your card group?”

  “Yes. Just the three. Lady Pembroke and her daughter, Kitty. Lady Mowbray and Isabel, Lady Jennings, and her niece, Dinah. Do you know any of them?”

  Penelope thought then shook her head. “I vaguely remembered Dinah’s mother dying suddenly, but I know nothing of any of them.”

  “Yes, poor Dinah. Her mother’s heart attack was sudden and unexpected. I hope she can enjoy herself now that her mourning period is over.

  “So, I’ll send out invitations to the ladies. They will reciprocate, of course. From these engagements, you will get to know Kitty, Isabel, and Dinah well enough once the season starts. We don’t want to look like we know no one at an event.

  “And I must insist we begin working on your accessories. We will shop for gloves tomorrow.”

  Penelope smiled. “I can see the wheels turning in your head, Mother. I am confident you will have me ready for the first ball.”

  Cecilia visibly relaxed. Her daughter’s accessories were well in hand, and the requisite tea socials were about to begin.

  *****

  Lady Pembroke arrived first with Kitty in tow, followed almost immediately by Lady Mowbray and her daughter, Isabel. It became apparent within minutes of the introductions that Kitty and Isabel were good friends.

  They all sat, and while waiting for Lady Jennings and Dinah to come, they took turns getting a good look at Penelope’s scar. Penelope secretly rolled her eyes. They thought themselves discrete,, but Penelope was used to this ritual and pretended to be oblivious.

  Kitty and Isabel gave each other looks, and Penelope could almost hear a sigh of relief. She imagined them thinking, ‘Penelope won’t be a rival.’

  Each girl starting her season needed to assess her competition. They evaluated each other. By the time the first ball ended, a pecking order would be in place based on looks, manner of dress, and number and quality of dance partners.

  Kitty and Isabel were both beautiful young ladies who knew how to dress to their greatest advantage. They perfected radiant smiles and an inflection in their voices that made the people around them feel as if their conversation was the most interesting they had ever heard. How interesting it was that neither could hold any kind of conversation without boring whoever was forced to listen. Penelope had no doubt they practiced facial expressions on each other in the confines of one or another’s chamber. They seemed very pleased with the results of their efforts.

  Lady Jennings and Dinah were announced, and Cecilia bade them to sit. Dinah wasn’t as pretty as Kitty or Isabel, but she was far more interesting and educated. Penelope was certain a conversation with her would be far more engaging. She immediately turned to Dinah and began to converse.

  Dinah’s eyes flickered over her scar for the briefest time, but she diverted her eyes, being careful to keep Penelope at ease. Penelope liked her already.

  Tea was served, and the topic of shopping came up. They compared establishments each patronized for wardrobes and accessories. All of them used many of the same shops, but they also latched on to a new shop or two that might provide something different.

  Penelope admired Kitty’s hair comb. Made with dyed stones in green, deep purple, and medium blue, the colours of a peacock, it sparkled in the candlelight every time she moved her head.

  “Kitty, I love your hair comb. Do you recall where you purchased it?” Penelope asked.

  Kitty batted the air with her hand. “Oh, you wouldn’t want to use a hair comb. It would call attention to,” Kitty’s eyes widened, “to your, to your …”

  Lady Pembroke jumped in, “It would take away attention from your beautiful warm brown eyes. They are a feature you don’t want to hide.”

  “You’re so right, Lady Pembroke,” Lady Mowbray said. “There won’t be another girl in the season who could match those eyes.”

  “Thank you,” Penelope said without a hint of upset or annoyance. “That’s very kind of you. Still, could you tell me where you found Kitty’s hair comb, Lady Pembroke?”

  After that moment of discomfort, conversation settled in with the expert guidance of Cecilia, having previously settled down groups of dozens of women who put their foot in their mouths. Kitty stayed mercifully quiet, a decision Penelope was grateful to see.

  Uncle Avery made his obligatory visit to the ladies, complementing Kitty, Isabel, and Dinah for how beautiful they each looked and how poised they were.

  He talked with the ladies and inquired about their husbands, even though he had seen two of them the night before at his gentlemen’s club, White’s.

  The ladies excitedly chatted with Avery. Having so much personal attention from a Duke was a treat. And he played his required role to perfection. He wore perfectly tailored clothes, lived in a large townhouse, and was on the guest list of every party. Yes, Avery’s image was intact partly due to meticulous planning of his schedule, designed to be as high profile as possible.

  Penelope thought the ladies must believe she lived in an idyllic house with an idyllic family. If she had one advantage over most of the other girls, it was that. Her uncle was a Duke, but it was so little an advantage it was not worth mentioning. Still, out of guilt for her scar, Avery would accompany her to the more important balls.

  *****

  As soon as Kitty and Isabel were seated in their carriage after tea, the discussion began.

  “It’s longer than was rumoured. And, because of its colour, it stood out. Mother, do you know how she got it?”

  Lady Pembroke sighed. “I heard she was kidnapped when she was fourteen, and when the Duke balked at the sum they wanted him to pay, the kidnappers told him they would carve up her face. Mind you, it’s just a rumour, and I’m not inclined to believe it. The Duke is an honourable man.”

  Lady Mowbray shook her head, “If there is any truth to the whole business, it’s that we can’t believe the rumours. I heard she was jumping from the loft of a barn to the straw mounds below, and there was some sort of tool inside one of the mounds of straw. She fell, and the tool cut her.” She shook her head. “I think it’s odd that whatever happened to her is such a secret.”

  Kitty glossed over Lady Mowbray’s remark. “But think of it, Mother. She’s so very beautiful. She would catch the eye of all the most eligible men if not for her scar. But no one will be able to miss it. We will benefit, for certain.”

  “Yes, but you must be more careful, Kitty. You must have nothing but sympathy for the girl. Why, if anyone heard you, they would think you unfeeling.”

  Kitty sat back for the remainder of the carriage ride. A smug smile she could not help showed on her face. The relief of Penelope’s face swept over her as she relaxed. Yes, Penelope wouldn’t be any competition for her.

  Tea at Lady Mowbray’s went similarly to the previous teas. The girls got to know one another better. Cecilia and Lady Mowbray seemed to get along well, which greatly relieved Cecilia. They had always been friendly during their weekly card game, but their friendship had deepened. She feared no one would warm up to her, and she would have no source to hear the chatter about Penelope’s face and the resulting reaction by the eligible men.

  Penel
ope, on the other hand, sized up Kitty and Isabel. She knew she could never trust them. They were like the porcelain dolls Penelope saw in shop windows. Beautiful, but with nothing to offer. The only thing Penelope would want from them was to stand next to them at a ball so she wouldn’t have to stand alone. But she liked Dinah. She was a pleasant girl, not a silly, frivolous package with nothing to offer a man except her beauty. Probably because of the sudden loss of her mother, she was down to earth, thoughtful, practical.

  So by the time all four teas had taken place, everyone knew one another well enough to form a unit. A unit that would help one another stand the scrutiny of the gentlemen they wanted to attract. Even Penelope found the worth of the unit. Gentlemen would be attracted to Kitty and Isabel. Standing next to them, Penelope would be introduced to a steady stream of them.

  Now that they knew there would be a steady stream of men attracted to Kitty and Isabel, Cecilia and Edward sat Penelope down to talk with her.

  “How are you feeling about the upcoming balls, Penelope?” Edward asked.

  “I’m fine.” She shrugged.

  “That was a lukewarm answer. Mother went to a lot of trouble—”

  “Edward,” Cecilia admonished.

  “… to find girls you can call your friends for the balls.”

  “But they’re not my friends,” Penelope protested. “They are beautiful, silly girls whose personalities will be fully exposed as shallow to every gentleman before the end of their first waltz. When a dance partner realizes how vacuous Kitty and Isabel are, do you think they’ll ask me to dance?”

  Edward thought for a minute before he answered. He had a wry smile on his face. “If they are so quick to realize how flimsy the brains of your friends are, you underestimate their ability to see you for the powerhouse you are.

  “It doesn’t work one way, my dear,” Cecilia said. “Those looking for a Kitty or an Isabel will find one. Those looking for a Penelope will also find one. We are not quite as stupid as we seem, sometimes.”

  Penelope laughed. “Sometimes?”

  Cecilia laughed too. “Don’t assume men will turn away from you because of your scar. Some will. But others will turn away from you because they are shallow. They are looking for something different from what you have to offer.”

  Penelope nodded. She had to admit they had a point. “I understand,” she said. “It’s still not fun to see a vacuous, porcelain doll led onto the dance floor.”

  “No accounting for men’s tastes,” Edward said dryly.

  Cecilia gave an uncharacteristic snort. “Believe me; you don’t want one of those men anyway.”

  “You’re right, Mother. I don’t.”

  Chapter 2

  Penelope’s mother and her mother’s brother, Avery, had a complicated relationship. When Penelope’s father died suddenly, Avery picked up responsibility for Cecilia, Edward, and Penelope. He paid for everything. When in London, they stayed in his large townhouse. They were swallowed up in it, hardly seeing Avery or his son Henry; it was that large.

  When at Avery’s country estate, it was the same. A mansion so large Cecilia’s family occupied a small part of a wing while Avery and Henry occupied another. Avery and Henry also used only a small part of it. Days could go by when the families would not see each other, coming and going at different times.

  Occasionally, when Avery needed, Cecilia would act as hostess at gatherings and parties. All in all, the arrangement was fine, and Cecilia didn’t feel guilty about taking advantage of her brother’s hospitality. It was of no consequence to him. He was wealthy. His peers approved of his largess.

  The only rub in the ointment, and there were always rubs in the ointment, was Cecilia’s nephew, Henry. Henry was twenty-five years old to Edward’s twenty-four years old. As cousins, they should have been close and kept in each other’s company. Instead, Edward wasn’t on speaking terms with him.

  Cecilia, Edward, and Penelope gave Henry a wide berth. They all heard stories of his ‘hunting trips’ where he would go to his father’s hunting lodge and hurt animals. His defence was always that he would kill the animals and eat them anyway. So what did it matter?

  He did other despicable things that didn’t involve animals. He bullied everyone in the village.

  But no one could do anything about it. There were repercussions for talking about him, to anyone. The villagers were afraid they would be banished, and Cecilia was afraid Avery would cut them off financially and throw them out. None were idle threats. Edward could choose not to speak to Henry, but he couldn’t speak against him. Avery protected Henry, the next Duke of Somerset. He wouldn’t allow anyone to tarnish his name or the name of his heir.

  At times, Cecilia felt like she made a bargain with the Devil. Of course, her situation was better than she could ever imagine. And Avery was good to her and her children. She was beyond grateful to him.

  She walked on eggshells, though. One wrong sentence to anyone outside the family that painted Henry in a bad light was catastrophic. Cecilia found herself thinking she had an anvil over her head that could drop on her at any minute. It was unbearably stressful. She didn’t want Edward or Penelope to know how she felt. She didn’t want them to feel the same.

  Henry had a temper. Cecilia heard once he became furious when he found out he wasn’t invited to a poker weekend hosted by a gentleman his age on a neighbouring estate. Henry knew the man, although not well. Henry wasn’t snubbed – he and this man were not friends and hardly knew one another. But he thought he was snubbed, and that was all that mattered to Henry. Henry had no friends.

  While the gentlemen played poker inside, Henry snuck up to the house and found the family dog in the yard. He didn’t hesitate to take the poor creature’s life.

  When the neighbour, the Duke of Norfolk, came to pay a visit to Avery, both Avery and Henry pleaded innocent to the crime. The Duke of Norfolk knew it was Henry’s handiwork, but he couldn’t prove it, so he banished Henry from his lands. That only brought out Henry’s thirst for revenge. He vowed to make the Duke of Norfolk regret his accusation.

  *****

  Penelope woke from her afternoon nap. She saw her ball gown hanging from a high hook on the wall. ‘It is tonight,’ she thought. After all the dreaming of it since the age of twelve and practicing dancing for it since the age of sixteen, it was here. She could curtsy. She could address any nobleman by his proper rank. She could dance every dance the band played, including all the country dances. She knew which topics of conversation were appropriate and which were not. She was ready.

  Her maid, Helen, came in with a group of footmen, two carrying the tub and another four with buckets of hot water. Helen put down her towels and soap on the stool she pulled next to the tub.

  Penelope got in, and Helen began to clean every inch of her then had her dunk her head and washed her hair. While Penelope leaned back and relaxed in the tub, Helen built up the fire and moved the stool to the front of it.

  Penelope groaned before getting out of the tub. “It was wonderful,” she said, to no one in particular. She donned her robe and sat on the stool, her back to the fire. Helen kneeled and began brushing her wet hair until it dried.

  Helen called for tea and left Penelope alone by the fire in a big comfortable chair. The tea arrived and Penelope relaxed.

  Cecilia knocked then walked in. “How are you, Penelope?”

  “Sit, Mother. Tea?” She poured for her mother, and they sat across from one another.

  “Are you nervous?” Cecilia asked.

  “Yes, but not as much as I thought I would be. Since Uncle Avery will accompany me and dance with me, I think that will break the ice.”

  She stretched her hand and put it on top of Penelope’s. “You’ll do fine. It will be fun. We’ll see Kitty, Isabel, and Dinah when we get there. You’ll never be alone.

  Helen came back and put Penelope in the vanity chair. She started dressing Penelope’s hair the same way Penelope always wore it – the way it helped minimise how m
uch of the scar people saw. It hung slightly over her left side. Helen powdered the scar lightly.

  Then Helen slipped on Penelope’s chemise and her dress overhead. Helen turned Penelope around so she could button every tiny button on the back of the dress and then tie the dress’s bow.

  “Sit, My Lady,” she said so she could put on Penelope’s stockings and tie each of them just below the knee with a more serviceable ribbon. And finally, she slid on Penelope’s slippers and buckled them across the top of each foot.

  “Stand up, My Lady,” she said. She turned Penelope around in a circle to make sure everything was ready for the ball.

  *****

  Avery walked into the ball with Penelope on his arm and a wide smile on his face. He waited for them to be announced then stepped down the three steps to the ballroom floor with Cecilia, Edward, and Henry behind him.

 

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