by Sandy Raven
“Since they aren’t here there is no way of asking is there?” Charlotte said.
“If there’s been a breakup Miss Olivia might not wish to talk about it,” Isabel offered. “It would be nice if we could discover what happened without appearing the worst sort of gossips.”
“No,” Penny whispered, trying to regain what strength she thought she had before she arrived at castle Rathcavan a mere hour ago. One short conversation with Lady Adina had her belly tumbling like a circus performer inside her. “As much as I may have wished at one time that Mr. Santiago realized his folly, begged my forgiveness, and asked my father for my hand in marriage, the man has not contacted me in any way, for over a year.”
“Well, the good thing is he likely won’t be a guest at this house party because of this new development.”
Penny went to the window, and pulled back the curtain so as to look at her view. Rolling hills, lush and green, spread out before her far off into the distance. Glancing down, she saw her rooms were above a flagstone terrace with steps leading to a path that wound around the side of the house. She’d stayed in this room once before several years ago, before she’d come out, before she’d fallen in love with that feckless man who stole her heart. “We won’t know for certain what the truth is, or if there ever was an… understanding between them until my cousin and Lady Edgar return from shopping in the village, which could be any minute.”
“You don’t sound as though you believe what was written in Lady Edgar’s letter,” Isabel said.
“Do not be swayed by his sweet words again, Penny, if he does come here,” Charlotte warned. “Do not melt if you see his handsome face, and do not give in to his passionate Spanish nature. He would use your emotions against you.”
“Yes, Penny,” Isabel said. “You have recovered and have become a stronger woman because of his cruel actions.”
“Remember,” Charlotte said, “Mr. Santiago promised he would write, and he never did. Over a year without a single word, and these past months he’s been here in Britain. Why did he never come to you, or write to you?”
In the distance Penelope watched a young lad, a groom likely, riding one horse in the front, center position, leading about eight other horses behind him up the narrow lane from a distant pasture. They looked well-behaved, following him with no halters or ropes on their heads. Likely he was bringing in horses for the guests that have already arrived, or were still en route to Rathcavan.
She turned to face her friends, how could she explain without making her cousin seem truly horrid? “I have told you both before that my cousin Olivia is a bumble-head,” Penny whispered. “And that was being… kind. You will find she’s… an… exaggerator.”
“She’s a liar?” Charlotte sounded surprised.
“In a way… I suppose,” Penelope said, trying to find the correct way to describe her vacuous, self-absorbed cousin, without being cruel. “She wants desperately to be liked. And to that end, she will say and do almost anything to gain your amity, or affection. Her mother died when she was a small girl.”
“I’m not going to feel sorry for the girl who tells her aunt Mr. Santiago wants to marry her when he said no such thing.” Charlotte would be the least of the three to be forgiving or accepting.
“I am in no way giving Olivia a pass on her behavior, but as she isn’t here—and neither is Mr. Santiago—I don’t know what the real story is.” Before walking into Rathcavan, Penelope had hardened her heart such that she was almost as strong as Charlotte. But with what her great-aunt Adina had just shared with their party, Penny’s heart was beginning to take flight again—she could feel it. And after what had occurred over a year and a half ago she wasn’t certain she could let her heart think about him again.
Charlotte might have been right. He likely wasn’t even going to be here. And that would suit Penelope just fine.
But there was still the very real possibility that if Olivia knew Penelope had had her heart set on him, Olivia would use it against her. From the letters that her mother received from Lady Adina, it seemed as though Lady Edgar’s influence had already been established in her cousin’s behaviors. It might not hurt to prepare her friends, away from her mother as they were now, to what Olivia’s nature might be.
“After Olivia’s mother died, she was sent to live near here, with Lady Adina, first, and… well, you’ve met her.”
Charlotte smiled. “She doesn’t appear the type to tolerate fools kindly.”
Penelope nodded, Charlotte was right about that. “She can be brusque, or short with people she deems frivolous, weak, or whiney. And Olivia was the only girl in a family filled with male offspring. Her parents treated like a fragile little princess. Her mother and father doted on her.
“When Olivia’s father died, Lady Adina was… unprepared to raise a little girl, so she sent Olivia to Lady Edgar—the widow of her firstborn son—a woman who had never had a child herself. Lady Edgar then sent Olivia away to boarding school in Switzerland because she didn’t know what to do with Olivia either.”
“With the portrait of Olivia that you are painting,” Isabel said, “I almost feel sorry for her.”
“Don’t,” Penelope warned. “She was a manipulator as a child, and I doubt she’s changed. It’s something I believe she learned at Lady Edgar’s side.”
“I believe I understand,” Isabel said. “Though, one would think she’d grow up eventually, and learn right from wrong.”
Penelope agreed with her friend, then added, “Just… be wary of her.”
Her friends left to nap before dressing for dinner. As Penelope lay on the bed trying to force herself to fall asleep, she began to hear carriages clattering up the front drive. She knew from this room, she wouldn’t see the arrivals. Besides, they were likely more guests, or the return of the group that had gone shopping in the village.
She must have dozed for a few minutes at least, because before she knew it Annie was waking her to dress for dinner. As her maid placed the last of the pins in her upswept straight blonde locks, a knock sounded at her door. Thinking for certain it was either Charlotte or Isabel, she called for the person to come in.
Penelope wasn’t prepared to see her cousin.
Olivia had grown a few inches taller since the last time they’d met three years earlier. Her artfully designed coif was similar in color, a shade of blonde particular to the Fenwicke side of the family, only God had seen fit to grant Olivia more curl than Penny.
And that wasn’t only thing he’d given her more of. The girl’s bodice revealed an indecent amount of flesh for one so young—barely seventeen. Or maybe it was just the illusion from a daringly low cut dress and a very tight corset. Penelope tried not to stare at her cousin’s breasts, and forced herself to look instead at the sleeves and skirts. The cerulean velvet bordered with gold piping was beautiful, and the cream-colored hand-woven lace underskirts peeking out at the scalloped hem, and the sleeves perfectly complimented Olivia’s complexion, her eyes, and her hair. The dress surely cost a fortune, as did the jewels.
And for a jealous moment Penelope wondered if the sapphires and diamonds were a gift from Nathaniel. But she remembered he said he wasn’t well-off, and they were no longer—or had they ever really been?—betrothed.
Perhaps the jewels were borrowed from Lady Edgar, Olivia’s aunt. That had to be it.
“Cousin Penelope!” The strawberry blonde swept into the room with a cool smile. “It is wonderful to see you!” She glided over to Penny, very graceful in her movements. Olivia wore a hint of rouge, but it didn’t detract from her natural beauty. Penny wanted to hate her, but couldn’t. Yet. Penny had to keep that in mind. She dismissed Annie, saying she would call for her in a few minutes.
Olivia gave her a welcoming hug, and began immediately rattling about things Penny didn’t care about. “Aunt Margaret says you have had another incredibly successful season. The newspapers in Edinburgh say nothing but intriguing things about you. There’s always speculation over who mi
ght ask for your hand, or that of your friends, and each week it’s a different man. A girl up here should be so lucky to have half as many fawning beau! I asked Aunt Margaret at the beginning of the year if we could go to London for one season there, and well…” she blushed as she smiled, revealing dimples that made her incredibly, disgustingly, pretty. Dimples that Penny never got from her father’s family.
“Aunt Margaret said that’s no longer necessary because I will soon be a married woman, but…”
Penny felt her heart slide to a stop, much like a horse refusing a jump, then slamming into the obstacle. She had set her mind on the fact that Lady Adina said there was no betrothal between Olivia and Mr. Santiago, so to hear her cousin say those words caused her world to stop spinning.
Her cousin leaned in closer to Penny, and held onto Penny’s shoulders as she whispered, “I wish aunt Margaret would drop that entire debacle, neither one of us wishes to wed the other. Just because she walked in on me and Nate—er, Mr. Santiago—kissing, doesn’t mean we have to wed. His kiss wasn’t even that good. It was very much like kissing a rock. I cannot possibly marry someone who cannot kiss.
“Now, Mr. Carswell, back in Edinburgh, he can kiss and make a girl feel the most delicious things. As can Lord Blackmon.” Her cousin shivered with delight at the thought of the two men. “But, Mr. Santiago? The poor man doesn’t know what to do.”
“Excuse me, please,” Penny turned away from her cousin’s grasp. She suddenly wanted to be ill, but forced herself to keep her composure. She couldn’t show weakness to her cousin, for who knew how she would use that against her. “I must finish readying myself for the evening. We can talk about this more later, if you’d like.” Only there would be no later. If she could make it until Monday, when her mother planned to go to Edinburgh to visit a friend, Penelope was leaving.
Her cousin sensed that her gossip was causing Penny’s upset. “I’m sorry,” the younger girl said, in a non-apologetic way. “I assumed you would have kissed men before. All the girls in my set of friends have kissed men. Some, many men. I’ve only kissed a handful, and found it—”
Penny went to the dressing room door and tapped on it for Annie to return, trying to not hear what her cousin was saying. She couldn’t get out of her head the image of Olivia and Mr. Santiago in a romantic embrace. The thought that he might have enjoyed Olivia’s kiss, was causing her to breathe too rapidly. If she wasn’t careful, Penny thought she might faint.
Her cousin continued her chatter while Penny waited for her maid. She thought Olivia spoke about being forced to wed, and being unhappy about the situation, though he was handsome and she could do worse.
Penny thought she nodded, she wasn’t sure. She thought she smiled, but she wasn’t certain of that either. Only one thing rang clear in Penelope’s head and heart—Mr. Santiago had kissed her cousin.
She’d been such a fool. Such a hopeful and blind fool. She never questioned his explanation of going on a job to another country as a translator for a diplomat. He’d lied to her about caring for her, his job was probably a lie as well.
And Olivia was obviously intimate with the man as she called him by a name Penny would never have presumed to call him, and Penny had only known him for all of five whole weeks. At this point, Olivia has known him longer than she had. She’d likely been intimate with him in ways that Penelope had wanted to share with her Mr. Santiago—and that made her physically ill.
Now she understood why Lady Adina didn’t believe there to be an understanding between the two. Lady Edgar believed her charge to be compromised, and the honorable thing for the gentleman to do was to pony up and marry the girl whose reputation he sullied.
Only he likely wasn’t the first to ‘sully’ her cousin!
Penelope felt as though she were going to be sick. She wanted out of this conversation as quickly as possible, before she humiliated herself in front of her cousin by bursting into tears.
Her maid, Annie, entered carrying the pins and comb to finish styling Penny’s hair. She begged her cousin’s pardon and understanding. “I think I’m more exhausted than I first believed, and I need to rest. Traveling over several days is exhausting.” Penelope took one of the pins from her hair and handed it to Annie.
“You do look rather peaked, perhaps I should send for doctor Gowrey, he’s a guest here for the party as he is my brother’s maternal cousin, and he has just finished his exams and is now a practicing doctor in Edinburgh. He’s rather handsome as well, but he’s in trade, and aunt Margaret looks down on men who are in trade.” She backed toward the door, and added, “I’ll send the man right up.”
Penelope stopped her. “No, please. All I need is my maid to help me out of this dress. I’m suddenly not feeling the thing. Please send my regrets to those joining you all for dinner. I will look forward to seeing you tomorrow, if I am up to it.”
Olivia nodded, and hurried into the hallway, closing the door behind her. Annie removed the rest of the pins in her hair as tears began to fall silently down Penny’s cheeks.
Once Penny had her nightdress and warm robe on, she sat in front of the fire and waited for her friends to come get her for dinner. She didn’t have to wait for long.
Charlotte arrived first, Isabel notorious for taking longer to ready herself for anything, even a ride in the park. They each hugged her when she’d told them about the conversation she had with her cousin. Penelope tried to compose herself as she spoke, but was in tears again before she was finished.
“I’m not sure I can do this. I think it was a mistake for me to come here. If I could…” Penny sniffled back the tears. “If I could find a good enough reason to leave here now, I would.” She wiped her face with the back of her hands.
A few months ago, when she’d learned that he was back from his assignment, and in Scotland, she’d spent six days sick to her stomach that he would return and not notify her. Upon waking on the seventh day, she vowed she would not go backwards in her emotions.
Her heart had healed mostly. Or, at least that’s what she told herself every day since the day she’d learned he was betrothed to mutton-brained Olivia. This was the perfect opportunity to prove to herself that she’d been wrong about Mr. Nathaniel Gregorio Santiago. He was not the man she’d thought. He was a scoundrel, and a blackguard of the worst order. A man who stole a lady’s affections, and kisses, and said things to soften her to his ideas and plans.
“Penelope, I have to ask…”
It had been a glorious morning in the park, one she had planned to treasure always.
She would never forget the shy grin on his face, the way the gold flecks in his eyes glowed from the sunshine breaking through the morning cloud cover. It had been after their usual, brisk ride through the park, at a time when there were perhaps a handful of grooms out exercising their masters’ mounts, and the week before London was overrun by the families of the members of parliament and the official start of the season. And before the gossips discovered she, Isabel, and Charlotte had returned to Town.
His voice had trembled, much as her entire body had each time she was in his presence. Nathaniel’s English, while grammatically perfect, was spoken with his native Spanish accent. The timbre was deep, warm, sensual. It had enveloped her heart, and she’d fallen for him so quickly that it defied all logic.
She and Nathaniel walked side by side, leading their horses and cooling them, with Charlotte and Isabel mounted on theirs. Her friends blocked their guards’ view of Penny and Nathaniel, and the two of them kept far enough ahead that her friends could not hear their conversation.
“Would you be amenable to me… asking… your father for permission to court you?”
He had lifted her hand and kissed the area above her glove, on the inside of her wrist. To this day, Penelope still felt the quivering low in her belly just thinking about the feel of his hot, moist lips on the sensitive flesh above her palm.
“I know we haven’t known each other long. And, while I might not know what this a
ssignment is that I’ll be taking, or when I’m leaving, I know I want you as my wife… that is… if you would do me the honor, because I will return as soon as possible.”
He’d been so nervous that she could hear the vibration in his accented English.
More tears spilled over and tracked their paths down her cheek. When Isabel hugged her, it brought her out of the past and back to her room at Castle Rathcavan.
“Your mother said she would take us to Edinburgh with her next week if we wanted to go,” Isabel said.
“I may take her up on that for this may be more than I can bear,” Penny said. “Though if you and Charlotte are enjoying yourselves you should certainly stay. Do not let me be the one to end your party.”
“Let’s not think of that just yet,” Isabel said.
“Isa’s right. Any thought of leaving early is premature,” Charlotte said. “We’ll know more after dinner with Olivia and Lady Edgar. And, of course, after we confront that blackguard, Mr. Santiago.”
“I wish I knew when the earl was arriving with his friends. If I could leave with mother on Monday without having to see Mr. Santiago, I believe I will.” Penelope said. “The countess, my great-aunt Adina, said she didn’t know when they would return because the men were putting their equipment to rights after suffering an accident at the new earl’s iron mill. I believe that he, her grandson, owned one before he came into the title. For all I know, he may still own it.”
Her maid entered the room from the connecting dressing area, and stood silently a moment. “Yes, Annie?”
“I was sent to notify you that the family has gathered in the great hall.”
“Will there be anyone other than family?” Charlotte asked.
“Tonight? No, Miss,” replied her dutiful maid. “From what I’ve gathered, the guests who are invited to the birthday celebration and hunt will be arriving tomorrow for the festivities on Saturday.”