Timeless Regency Collection: Autumn Masquerade

by Josi S. Kilpack

  Penny felt heat rising from her chest. It spread across her neck and into her cheeks, and she wondered if her head might explode into a bright ball of red flame. “Our papa was a good man, Aunt Millicent. And our mother loved him very much.”

  Millicent eyed her askance and sniffed. “I warned her. She acted the fool over that man from the moment they first met. But she wouldn’t be dissuaded once her mind was set.”

  Penny drew in deep, even breaths and turned her head away slightly in hopes of catching another cool breeze. “He was landed gentry, Aunt. Surely he might have found favor in your eyes for that alone, no?”

  Millicent let out a puff of air. “Title or no, he was odd. He never mixed well with society. It wasn’t as though that match led to any advantageous connections for your mother.”

  “Perhaps she wasn’t interested in advantageous connections,” Penny said softly. “Perhaps she only wanted the love of a kind man, and children.”

  “Persephone.” Millicent placed a finger under Penny’s chin and pulled her attention back. “You know very well that love is not currency, nor does it help one’s station in life. You are not sounding like yourself today.”

  Penny’s eyes misted. “Perhaps I am merely missing Mama today.”

  “I expect maudlin sentiment from your sister, not from you.” Millicent’s taut features softened slightly. “Ensnare the interest of His Grace, my girl. All such thoughts will fly away most handily when you are a duchess.”

  “Yes, Aunt.” Penny placed her finger under the bonnet ribbons, wishing she could just take the thing off. Persephone always tied her bow snugly under her ear. Penelope preferred her bonnet bows to hang loose somewhere around the middle of her neck, which probably explained the reason it was forever flying off.

  “Mrs. Fanbecker!” The shrill voice of the vicar’s wife sounded down the street, and Millicent turned with pleasure toward the woman. “Just the woman I was hoping to find!”

  Millicent smiled. “Mrs. Jonas, what a pleasant surprise!”

  Mrs. Jonas was the large to Aunt Millicent’s slim. Together they resembled Jack Sprat and his wife. “I have the recipe I mentioned to you the other day when Mr. Jonas and I took tea with you. It’s here somewhere in my reticule.” The portly woman opened her reticule drawstrings and plunged her hand into the recesses, fumbling about and muttering some.

  Penny took advantage of her aunt’s momentary distraction to turn her attention elsewhere—anywhere. The insults to her father’s memory hung heavy in the air, and she missed her parents fiercely. She looked into the street, and something sparkled, catching her eye. It was a rock, and a beautiful one at that.

  Penny slipped quietly away from the two women, moving into the street, her eyes solidly fixed on the object, and imagined wistfully that it was an embrace from her father. She bent down, her gloved hand reaching for it just as a shout rang out from someone close by. As her fingers closed around the rock, she looked up at the commotion, only to be shoved to one side amidst a flurry of pounding hooves and the flash of a very large horse.

  Penny lay sprawled in the middle of the street, with a very heavy body atop hers. The wind had been knocked from her lungs in a painful whoosh, and she struggled to catch a decent breath. The figure atop her rolled to one side, and she felt a hand on her shoulder.

  “Miss Timely, are you hurt?”

  She knew the voice—had been entranced by it the night before in her aunt’s parlor. The pink bonnet had slipped down over Penny’s face, and she lifted an unsteady hand to shove it away from her eyes. A handsome face and a pair of sea foam green eyes came into focus as the offending bonnet moved out of the way.

  “Your Grace,” she managed, drawing a shaky breath. “I... there was a rock...” Penny looked at her hand to find her fingers locked in a death grip around the object that had sent her into the street in the first place. “I don’t know what happened...”

  His face was pale, his brows drawn. “A horse—must not have been thoroughly broken in—very nearly ran you down.” He put his hand behind her shoulders and helped her into a sitting position. She registered a gasp from an onlooker and swallowed as His Grace tugged the hem of her dress down over her shoes.

  Penny closed her eyes at her own stupidity. “I apologize, Your Grace. You put yourself in harm’s way. I ought to have paid closer attention.”

  “Persephone!” Aunt Millicent’s screech carried through the street and likely into the next village. “Whatever has happened?”

  “My aunt doesn’t know I like rocks,” she mumbled, hoping for all she was worth that the duke would keep her secret. He would be expecting Persephone to be enamored of geology, but Aunt Millicent knew very well that Persephone was not.

  “Your secret is safe with me,” he whispered.

  She looked at him, then, his face still quite close to hers. It was as though time stood deliciously still for just a moment. The color seemed to be returning to his face, and the corner of his mouth quirked in a smile. Her breath hitched, and she noted the clean smell of his clothing, the sharp, smooth line of his jaw. She closed her eyes for the briefest of moments and wished the world would melt away.

  The world did not, in fact, melt away, and the noise around her returned with a rush as Millicent reached her side and clawed at her arm, pulling her more fully upright. “Your Grace!” Millicent seemed to foam at the mouth as she searched for words that, apparently, eluded her. “You have saved Persephone’s life!”

  Penny winced as Millicent hauled her upright, and she fought back a scowl. Shouldn’t injuries be assessed before forcing an accident victim to stand? She rotated her head on her shoulders, stretched her limbs just a bit. Nothing seemed broken, just most likely bruised.

  “Nothing any other gentleman wouldn’t have done, I’m certain,” His Grace said as he rose and dusted his pants and the elegant, if slightly dirty, line of his impeccably tailored jacket. “I merely happened to be the closest at hand.” He smiled. “Fortunately.”

  Penny bit her lip. Why, oh, why did he have to be so handsome? She searched his face for a flaw, desperately hoping to find one. Alas, he was perfection itself. Adonis. A thing from which marble statues were designed. There was no hope for it. Henry was beautiful, and Penny was lost.

  “What is that filthy thing?” Millicent reached for Penny’s wrist with a talon-like grip and pulled it closer for inspection. “A rock?”

  Penny blinked. “I don’t know how... I’m not sure why...”

  Millicent shook her wrist with a strength that, frankly, surprised Penny. “Drop it, Persephone. Your gloves will be filthy.”

  Penny refrained from telling Millicent that her entire dress was likely filthy after taking a tumble into the street. The rock, though, remained firmly clutched in her hand. She couldn’t drop it. It was a hug from her papa.

  “I’ll take it for you, Miss Timely.” Henry placed his large hand around hers, and Millicent released Penny’s abused wrist. His long fingers brushed gently across her knuckles, and she slowly relaxed her grip. “There we go,” he whispered. “I shall keep it safe.”

  “Your Grace, how can we ever repay you?” Aunt Millicent was beside herself, basking in ducal glory as the rest of the village looked on amidst murmurs, clucks of approval, and sighs from young girls at the clear gallantry of His Grace, the Duke of Wilmington.

  “Nonsense, the privilege is mine. I’m happy to assist.” Henry smiled at her and subtly slipped the rock into his coat pocket.

  Penny swallowed and met his eyes, feeling her own mist over just a bit. “Thank you, Your Grace,” she managed, and curtseyed, feeling slightly sore and yet wonderful all at once.

  “I ask only that you save me a waltz at the masquerade ball.”

  “Of course she will, Your Grace,” Millicent gushed and curtseyed, as well. “And she will be wearing pink, as always.”

  Penny glanced at the duke in some dismay. She’d told him she hated pink. If he remembered, though, he didn’t comment on it. He smiled
at her, one brow raised. She swallowed again.

  “Pink. Of course. Her favorite color.”

  Penny looked at him sharply. Was he toying with her? She couldn’t be certain, and she hadn’t flirted enough in her life to recognize it definitively. Perhaps he’d just forgotten. After all, it wasn’t as though the subject of her favorite color came up with every letter exchanged.

  Millicent pulled Penny toward the sidewalk just as Persephone emerged from the apothecary on the heels of Dr. Fitzroy.

  “My goodness, Miss Timely, are you hurt? May I be of some assistance?” The doctor looked at Penny with clear concern and kind, intelligent eyes, and Penny was struck by the thought that her sister seemed to have fallen in love with a man of some actual substance.

  “She is just fine,” Millicent snapped. “His Grace has already seen to her welfare.”

  Penelope wanted to tell the good doctor that her arm had been nearly ripped from its socket by her overzealous aunt.

  Persephone locked eyes with Penny, shock clearly written on her face. She rushed forward and grabbed her in an embrace. “Pen, are you well?” she whispered.

  Penny nodded. Persephone pulled back and looked at her face for a long moment as though assuring herself of the truth. She looked over Penny’s shoulder at the duke and pursed her lips ever so slightly, the way she always did when she was Thinking, just before she began Planning.

  “Thank you, Your Grace, for coming to my sister’s aid.” Persephone smiled at him and then wiped a smudge of dirt from Penny’s face.

  “Don’t touch her, Penelope,” Millicent hissed, even as she smiled at curious onlookers and urged Penny forward. “You’ll make her sick! I hope you managed to get a remedy for whatever it is you seem to have contracted.” Millicent flicked a glance at Dr. Fitzroy and dismissed him just as quickly.

  “I believe I did indeed, Aunt Millicent. Dr. Fitzroy has prescribed exactly what I need to be well.” Persephone blushed and cast a backward glance at the doctor, who lifted a finger in farewell.

  Penny raised a brow but said nothing to her sister, who seemed entirely pleased with her visit to the apothecary.

  Millicent yanked on Penny’s arm, threading her own through it. “That was an absolutely brilliant maneuver, Persephone!” She leaned in close, excitement rolling off of her in waves. “A bit risky, perhaps, but brilliant nonetheless! However did you think so quickly? I didn’t even see His Grace until the whole of it was over!”

  Penny gaped at her aunt. She thought the whole incident had been orchestrated? “I...”

  “You’re stunned, dear. I shouldn’t be surprised if you haven’t knocked your head about somewhat. That was quite a daring plan, but when a clear objective is within reach, one should sacrifice to achieve it.”

  “Quite,” Penny muttered. They neared the carriage, and Penny absently registered Persephone patting down the side of her dress that had taken the most abuse when hitting the road, while Millicent continued clucking nonsense. Penny’s thoughts trailed back to the moment when Henry had slipped her rock into his pocket. And her heart melted.

  Chapter Five

  Penny glanced at her sister, who sat beside her in Aunt Millicent and Uncle Horace’s carriage on the way to the Wilmington estate for the Ellshire Autumn Masquerade Ball. Her hands were clammy inside the magenta elbow-length gloves and the mask she clutched in her fingers was itchy—she’d already tried it on. And she hated magenta. It was the most intense and offensive form of pink imaginable.

  Persephone avoided her gaze, staring out the window rather than face the scowl Penny had permanently etched on her own features. Persephone wore Penny’s masquerade gown, which was a beautiful combination of sapphire and the palest ice blue. Penny had actually been looking forward to wearing the ensemble. It was extravagant in the extreme, and Penny sincerely doubted she’d ever have a chance to wear it anywhere ever again. Aunt Millicent had insisted Uncle Horace loosen the purse strings on the girls’ trust for the occasion, and the modiste had spared no expense. Truth be told, Penny knew Millicent couldn’t have cared less whether Penny wore something new or an old day dress for the occasion, but she could hardly be so blatant in her preference for Persephone and deny Penny a suitable gown. The neighbors would surely take notice.

  Persephone had insisted that Penny must wear her pink ball gown and dance with His Grace in her place. Persephone had no idea what Penny had written in all those letters, of course, and she still couldn’t bear to betray her heart’s true love, Doctor Gilroy Fitzroy. Even though His Grace was stunningly handsome.

  Penny batted her way through the jealous green haze that clouded her vision at her sister’s statement and refrained from scratching Persephone’s eyes out. But only just. Because yes, His Grace was indeed stunningly handsome, so much so that it hurt the eyes and quite ruined Penny’s hopes for a gentle association with a pleasant but homely man, but also because the thought of him holding Persephone close while pondering on all the things Penny had written from her heart made her inexplicably furious. Plus, there was the fact that the duke had been quite dashing earlier in his rescue. She felt connected with him in a way that she absolutely wasn’t willing to share with her sister—with anyone, for that matter.

  So there she sat as the carriage rumbled along, trying to keep her posture and expression perfect for Millicent, who sat opposite them in the carriage next to Uncle Horace, who looked for all the world as though he’d rather be watching cattle graze. If Millicent suspected for even one moment that the girls had switched places, Penny’s life would be miserable because, of course, it would be somehow Penny’s fault. Their earlier escapades in the village had been but a test, really. Tonight would be the true measure of their success. Millicent would be watching them like a hawk.

  “Penelope, I do hope you’ll refrain from any inappropriate chatter this evening, especially if you actually find yourself dancing with someone. And for the love of heaven, if your throat is still bothering you, don’t breathe on anyone, or sneeze.” Millicent was watching Persephone with narrowed eyes, and Penny observed from the outside as her aunt’s vitriol spilled onto her sister instead of her.

  Persephone tore her gaze from the passing countryside that was fading in the face of the encroaching evening and gaped for a moment at Aunt Millicent. She then slouched a bit in her seat with a sniff. “Of course,” she said in a petulant voice, and Penny wanted to slap her. She was surprised Persephone hadn’t belched loudly and wiped drool from her chin in an effort to play at being Penny.

  Aunt Millicent rolled her eyes heavenward with a little huff. “Don’t know why I even bother,” she muttered, and Penny tilted her head at the woman, never disliking her more than in that moment.

  “Penny knows perfectly well how to behave in public, do you not?” Penny said, looking at Persephone.

  Persephone gaped at her for a moment before nodding. “Of course.”

  Persephone had rarely, if ever, defended Penny to their aunt, and the fact that Penny had now subtly called her attention to it seemed to have the perfect twin flustered.

  Millicent snorted something unintelligible but let the matter rest for a moment. She eventually recovered herself and looked at Penny, eyes shining. “Now, Persephone dear. You must use every charm you possess to engage His Grace’s affection. You already have him quite intrigued, as we clearly saw today in the village. Why, I could tell just from the way he looked at you last night in the parlor that his interest was piqued.”

  Penny gritted her teeth but managed a smile she hoped was bright and sunny. “Oh, Aunt, surely he wasn’t paying me any special regard,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

  Persephone uttered a little sound that sounded suspiciously like denial. “But Persephone, I’m certain you must be mistaken! Whyever would he not have paid you special regard? You are all that is charming and beautiful.”

  “Exactly right, Penelope,” Aunt Millicent said, barely sparing the blue-clad sister a glance. “You see, even your sister
realizes it.”

  “But, Penny, I saw him also stealing a glance or two at you!” Penny fluttered her lashes at Persephone.

  “Bah. Only because she looked an absolute fright.” Millicent flicked a hand at Persephone, who now bristled noticeably and sat up a bit straighter in the seat.

  Well, good! Let Persephone see firsthand what it felt like to be on that side of their aunt’s painful derision. Persephone wasn’t used to being dismissed, to being the lesser of the two girls, and even though Penny knew Persephone realized it was all a farce, she also now would know exactly how Penny felt every time Millicent knocked her down yet again.

  Just because Penny was feeling perverse and entirely put out with her sister, she tapped her finger against her chin and struck a contemplative pose. “I do wonder if Doctor Fitzroy will be in attendance this evening,” she mused aloud.

  Aunt Millicent scowled. “Whyever should you concern yourself with him, Persephone? I told you when he first moved to the village that he is far beneath your potential.”

  Persephone sat up even straighter in the carriage seat. “But he is quite wonderful!”

  Aunt Millicent shot a glance at Persephone. “It would stand to reason you would think so, Penelope.” And then the woman actually brightened a bit. “Although, it may well be just what we need once Persephone is wed to the duke! Penelope, you might manage to catch the doctor’s attention with your odd interests and love of the outdoors. You did spend time with him today at the apothecary, and your temperament far better suits you to be married to one of the working class. You would have a smaller household to manage, and your husband would never have to concern himself with his wife’s inability to entertain people of polish. Then you will make a match, and I shall have done my duty to my dear sister.” She looked entirely pleased with herself, and Penny felt Persephone bristle.