by Anya Wylde
“Here,” a soft call came from the back of the house.
He faltered, becoming quiet. He wondered if he had imagined it. He stepped deeper into the house.
The smell of rain and wind had washed away the stench. A beam had collapsed in one corner. A soft grey light coming from the broken roof illuminated parts of the house.
He carefully made his way over the rotting wood and furniture. Another whisper of sound reached him and he paused, his breath caught.
“I am here.”
Hope surged in his chest. It was Penelope’s voice.
“I am coming. Where are you,” he shouted.
“Behind the beam. I can’t get out.”
A large beam had fallen diagonally across a door in the corner. A small part of the door at the very top had rotted away leaving a small gap. He stood on his toes and peered through the gap.
She was huddled in one corner wearing a dress too big for her; a maid’s dress he guessed. She was clutching a filthy rag in her small hands, and her hair and face were smeared with dirt. An empty bucket and a broom rested against the wall. His heart clenched at the sight.
He started talking softly while his hands worked at lifting away the broken beam.
“An unpleasant day to take a walk.”
“I woke early. It was fine this morning …,” she said, through chattering teeth.
“When did you leave the house?”
“Five.”
“You should have taken your maid along.”
“You told me to clean this house alone and with no help. How could I take Mary? I wanted to finish cleaning. You said if I cleaned you would let me stay … I was cleaning … Then it started storming and the beam fell. I can’t clean anymore … The wood is too heavy ….” She fell silent.
The duke cursed softly. It was past eleven. She had been trapped for hours not knowing if she would come out of this alive.
“We will be home soon.”
“I don’t have a home. I did not clean … I lost ….”
He stood up, trying to lift the beam. He caught sight of her face … It was frozen in shock. He wanted her to scream, shout and throw things at him. He wanted her to behave like the Penelope he knew. Her voice was so detached … The beam moved under his hands. He lifted it up and moved it aside.
“Penelope?” he said softly, pushing open the door.
She rose to her feet unsteadily and looked at the duke.
He held open his arms and the rag fell from her hand.
She took a hesitant step, her eyes locked on his. She took another step, this time more confidently, and then suddenly she was sprinting towards him.
She paused when they were close enough to kiss.
He smiled encouragingly.
And that was when she punched him in the stomach.
He was relieved rather than hurt. The fire was back in Penelope’s eyes. He lifted his hand, trying to reach out to her.
She backed away, choosing to go deeper into the dangerous house rather than have him touch her again.
She spoke rapidly through chattering teeth, “You tried to murder me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous ….”
She spoke over him, “I had hours to think. The Desmond house is your property. You had to know what state the house was in. How could you not? You sent me here knowing that I may be killed. The house was falling apart even before the storm set in. Did you hope to find my dead body? Are you disappointed to see me alive?”
“You are being dramatic. Calm down and listen to me for one moment.”
“No,” Penelope cried. “I don’t want to listen to anything you have to say anymore. You have disliked me from the moment you set eyes on me. Your pride was hurt when I refused to leave, so you planned to kill me.”
“You are mistaken.”
She held up her hand. Her entire body trembled with rage.
“I don’t understand you, not your kindness or your hatred. I don’t understand why someone as insignificant as me disturbs your pretentious world. But I do know that I choose life. I would rather live with Lord Weevil, who makes my skin crawl, and a stepmother who hates the sight of my face than die in self-pity. I value my life over and above petty London politics, carriages, jewels and titles. I want to live, your grace. Live till I am old, grey and withered. You have won the wager, Duke of Blackthorne. You have got what you always wanted. I am leaving,” she finished quietly.
“Penelope …”
“Miss Fairweather,” she corrected coldly, moving towards the entrance.
“Miss Fairweather, let me explain …,” he said, grabbing her arm
She shook her head refusing to listen to him. Wrenching her hand free, she covered her ears and ran out of the house.
He watched her disappear into the storm outside. Her steps were sure and her head was held high. She had not shed a single tear.
He slammed his hand on the door, his eyes closing in remorse. She had not lost, he knew, but won. He stood for a long time staring with unseeing eyes as the Desmond house fell apart around him.
Chapter 25
Penelope flung open her travelling case. Next, she pulled out her bag of stockings from the wardrobe and started sorting through them. She refused take a single item of clothing that the duke had paid for. She had brought along two stockings, both black and laddered. It should be easy enough to find.
“Miss Fairweather.”
She whirled around and found the duke standing at the entrance soaking wet. He had not changed but had come straight to her bedchamber.
She backed up until her shoulders hit the wardrobe.
“I am not here to murder you,” he said irritably, walking to the other end of the room. “Go and stand near the door. If I launch an attack, you will be able to get away.”
“Are you going to attack?”
“No, but I do request that you hear me out.”
She didn’t reply. Instead, she moved to the wardrobe and started pulling out the dresses.
“I came here to explain ….”
“Explain? You should be apologising … Oh, but the great Duke of Blackthorne never apologises, of course,” she said, her lips curling bitterly.
“Will you keep quiet until you hear what I have to say? Thereafter, you can go back to accusing me.”
Penelope’s eyes flew to his. He was looking sheepish.
“This is difficult for me. A little embarrassing and I don’t know how to say this,” the duke said hesitatingly.
Penelope crossed her arms over her chest. Her packing forgotten, she pinned her eyes on him. This was getting interesting.
“I am listening,” she said.
“You are? Well, don’t you want to continue packing while I speak?”
“No, I want look right at you.”
“Fine, the thing is that … Well, it is just that it is a bit unseemly talking about it to a lady. But then you are not exactly a l—”
Penelope made a growling noise.
The duke rushed on, “When I was seventeen, I fell in love with this girl Emily. She was a year older than me, and she told me that she loved me as well. She also told me that she was pregnant with my child. Shortly after that … I caught her in bed with my footman.”
“Was it Walrus that you caught her with?”
“Walrus?”
“Bagley, the footman.”
“Oh no, it was his cousin. Do you know about this?” he asked, eyeing her suspiciously.
“No, it was a guess. Anyhow, you got cuckolded and your heart was broken. Thereafter, you started to hate all women. The poor duke was cheated in love and he decided to never fall in love again. Am I right?”
“Not exactly. Well, you see, I fell in love again at twenty two. And this time Elizabeth told me that she was pregnant with my child. Shortly after that I caught her in bed with the head gardener.”
“Lovell? But he is eighty.”
“No. Her head gardener.”
“Right, so you were cuckolded
twice. A lot of people are cheated in their lives, but that is not a good enough reason to distrust all women—”
“When I was twenty five,” the duke continued. “Elizabeth informed that she was carrying my child. I then caught her in bed with my carriage driver.”
“Same Elizabeth whom you caught with the head gardener?”
“No, this was a different Elizabeth. When I was twenty six, I caught—”
“Stop,” Penelope ordered. “I think I get where you are going with this. You were cuckolded a number of times. I am now starting to understand why you no longer want to fall in love.”
“Every time I fell in love, the girl in question betrayed me,” he said gloomily.
“I never thought I would feel sorry for you,” she mused. Then after a bit of thought, she asked, “But why did they betray you and that too so many women. And how many women were there?”
“The number doesn’t matter. What matters is the fact that the ones I only liked but did not love stayed true to me. But if I fell in love, the women ended up in bed with someone else. It was a bit of a mystery and I asked Lor … I mean, Madame Bellafraunde about it.”
“When did you ask her?”
“The day I caught you in your corset and bloomers. She met me after your lesson to explain things. One thing led to another, and soon I was confessing my dilemma and she seemed like the right person to talk to. After all, she is the mistress who trains the ladies of the ton in matters of love and deceit.”
“Oh, I remember now. It was the day I shot the ceiling.”
“You did what? You shot the ceiling? I want to ….” He paused and took a deep breath. After a moment, he continued more calmly, “Never mind about that now. Where was I? Oh yes, Madame. She said that the reason the women were forced to betray me was because I took too long in asking them to marry me. They had to come up with a plan to trap me. They were not getting any younger, and I am a brilliant catch. She also said that I was in lust not love every single time. She tried an experiment with me where she told me to imagine being married to one of the women that I thought I had loved.”
“Then what happened?”
“I broke out in a cold sweat, my ears turned hot, my neck became itchy, and my entire form started trembling in dread. It happens every time I think of shackling myself to a woman for the rest of my life. Madame said that when I do fall in love, the thought of losing the girl I love should break me out in a cold sweat, and not the thought of spending the rest of my life with her. Which is why I decided to look at marriage as a business alliance rather than a love match. It makes things easier. And I need an heir.”
“Your grace, when you were younger, did you fall in love every time you sneezed?”
“It was more like a seasonal flu.”
“This is all very heart-breaking, but why are you telling me all this?”
“This is the first reason why I wanted you out of the house. Now you can appreciate why I am a little wary of women, especially the ones that try and seduce me. And you did try to warm my bed that first night. I was convinced that you would do something devious to trap me into marriage. You were desperate and Emily, Elizabeth, Lilly, and the whole lot of them had been just as desperate to marry. I was frightened.”
“I did not try and trap you.”
“Your actions say otherwise.”
“I don’t want to argue over that again. What is the other reason?”
“My mother and sister always heed my advice. No one has ever denied me anything. True, Anne gets her way sometimes, but her desires are material. She has never before gone against my wishes when it comes to associating with the wrong sort. Since your arrival, the two of them have turned against me. Anne has started arguing with me and Mother doesn’t listen to anything I have to say anymore. You are the reason for the change. Everything was going well until you stormed into our lives.”
“So your monstrous ego was squished and you decided to murder me?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t know the Desmond house was in such a bad state. I only knew that it was stinking.”
“Don’t you dare deny it. You did try and murder me!”
“I did not.”
“You did.”
“Think logically. Why would I save you if my intent was to murder you? I did pull aside that beam and free you.”
“When you get beef from the butcher, you don’t feel bad for the cow that has been killed. But if someone asked you to wield a knife and kill the cow yourself, you wouldn’t be able to do it.”
“Are you saying that you are a cow?”
“Exactly.”
“What?”
“You found me alive and couldn’t bring yourself to kill me. It would have been alright if the storm had finished me off. I am like that cow and the storm is the butcher. Do you see now?”
“Yes, I see. You absolutely insist that you are a cow. I am not arguing.”
“I didn’t mean … Oh, what does it matter? Go away,” she snapped, picking up the dresses and shoving them in the travelling case.
“You are a simply using me as an excuse, Penelope. The truth is that you don’t have the courage to face the season, for you know as well as I do that no one will marry you. You are afraid of disappointing a lot of people. That is why you have decided to run away.”
“That’s not true.”
“Then stay and prove it,” he said, walking towards the door.
“You wanted me to leave.”
“Now I want you to stay.”
“Is that because you have changed your opinion of me? Do you still think that I am a doxie?”
After a short silence, the duke spoke really fast, “isupposeso.”
“What?”
“I said, I suppose so.”
“You suppose so? What sort of an answer is that? Do you or do you not?”
“I think so.”
“Oh, that’s a lot better. You suppose or think that I am no longer a doxie. That makes it all very clear.”
“So, will you stay?” he asked again, his hand now on the door knob.
“Leave,” she muttered, pulling out her slippers from the wardrobe.
He opened the door and walked out.
A moment later his head popped back in.
“Penelope?” he said.
“Now what?” she asked, getting ready to aim a slipper at the door.
“I am sorry,” he said softly and then closed the door.
“Damn the rotten man,” she whispered, starting to unpack her bag. “Why did he have to go and apologise?”
***
Exhausted after the morning’s adventure and the fight with the duke, Penelope had fallen asleep. She woke just in time to change for dinner.
Her stomach growled when she walked into the dining room. She had eaten nothing all day.
At Sir Henry’s signal she dipped her spoon into the creamy tomato soup and took a bite. It was delicious.
“Where are you going tonight?” Sir Henry asked.
“We are staying in. Penelope was caught in the storm, Grandfather, and I think she is too tired to go anywhere,” Anne replied.
Penelope froze at the mention of the storm. The soup suddenly tasted sickly sweet in her mouth, and she placed the spoon back in the bowl. Her hands were trembling.
The rational part of her brain told her that she was going into shock. She shook herself trying to focus on the candlelit table laden with wine glasses, meats, fruits and cheeses. She firmly reminded herself that she was surrounded by people and that she was safe. She forced herself to focus on Sir Henry’s words.
“She is looking a little peculiar. I thought it was a lover’s quarrel because Charles has also been ogling his soup instead of eating it.”
The duke looked up, his eyes silencing Sir Henry’s line of enquiry.
Sir Henry glanced at the two white faces and frowned.
“Well, Annie, any exciting balls coming up?” Sir Henry said, prudently changing the subject.
<
br /> “Lady Plasket has invited us to dine tomorrow night.”
“Miss Fairweather, Lady Plasket looks like an elongated mongoose. Her head is ridiculously small as compared to her never-ending torso. Be careful of her, my dear. She has been gossiping since she shot out screaming into this world. I knew her a long time ago. I doubt she has changed.”
Sir Henry failed in his attempt to make Penelope smile.
She nodded soberly, her eyes vacant. Perkins placed a glass in front of her, and she absently picked it up and took a sip. Her eyes shot to the duke as the taste of cherry brandy hit her tongue.
He avoided her eyes.
She carefully placed the glass on the table and stood up. In a voice that shook slightly, she excused herself.
No one stopped her.
***
Penelope rushed to her room and found Mary putting out her nightdress. Lady Bathsheba was sitting on the carpet.
“Mary?”
“The duke instructed, Miss. Lady Bathsheba is to stay with you at all times.”
Penelope hugged her pet, and for the first time that day the tears fell. She buried her face in Lady Bathsheba’s white coat and stayed like that until Mary left the room.
Once alone, her tears fell in earnest. She set her mother’s portrait up on the desk, but not one word escaped her lips. She cried silently, her mind once again trapped in the dilapidated house with the storm roaring over her head.
It was sometime before she calmed down. Blowing her nose she climbed into bed dragging Lady Bathsheba along. The goat nuzzled her cheek trying to comfort her.
After eating the entire tin of biscuits that Walrus had given her, she rested her head on the pillow. But she couldn’t sleep a wink. Her head felt heavy and her body ached. Restless, she stuck her hand under the pillow trying to get comfortable and found a piece of paper. She pulled out the sheet and holding it closer to the dying candle read the words:
Thank you for staying
She stared at the dark blue fluid line, her heart racing. Her fingertip traced the words and her eyes squeezed shut. She crumpled the paper and threw it on the floor. Before she slept, her feelings were no longer of fear but of anger.
Chapter 26
“To lure a man, a woman should go out into the woods on a full moon night stark naked and dance around a roaring fire. If a lion with a swishy tail comes to investigate, then that woman has succeeded in luring the man … The danger is that you may become the lion’s supper. Still, these are desperate times … Miss Fairweather, I have been spewing nonsense for the past ten minutes and you have barely blinked … Miss Fairweather?” Madame sighed. Her student was daydreaming again. She tried again, “The duke has buttocks as glorious as a red bottomed baboon. Ah, that got your attention.”