Loving a Fearless Duchess

by Abigail Agar

  Nash received no missives and sent none. He realized that they were living without the specter of Henry for the first time since they met. What a magnificent feeling.

  The rest of the honeymoon was as successful as their stay in Paris. Penelope considered the boat ride from Nantes to Rome to be the worst part of the travel but found it worthwhile when she landed in Rome.

  The trip to the Coliseum and the Pantheon piqued her interest in learning more about ancient Rome. The squares with shops and outdoor cafés that served very strong coffee were charming. She marvelled at how many squares there were in the city, a short walking distance from one another.

  Penelope wore a hat tilted to the left-hand side to minimize the view of her scar. She found the Europeans either didn’t notice it or didn’t care about it as no one commented. How refreshing.

  As in Paris, they dined with their peers in Rome. One night while dining with eight other couples at the English embassy, a gentleman was harassing a nice lady Penelope’s age named Lady Sanderson. Sitting across from them, Nash and Penelope could not help witnessing the exchange. The gentleman reminded Penelope of Henry. He was crass and loud and said inappropriate things to Lady Sanderson.

  “Tell me, Lord Cheevers, are you enjoying your stay in Rome?” Penelope asked trying to pull the Lord’s attention from Lady Sanderson.

  Lord Cheevers turned from Lady Sanderson to Penelope and looked her up and down. Penelope anticipated a comment about her scar.

  “No, Duchess, I am not. I find the company dreary,” he looked over to Lady Sanderson, “and the diversions few. There are only so many times one can go to the opera.”

  “Do you enjoy the strong coffee served in the cafés? I find the squares charming and the cafés a nice place to sit outside and watch the bustle of Rome.”

  He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Forgive me, Duchess, but we have different views of our experiences in Rome.”

  He turned to Lady Sanderson and whispered in her ear in such an insistent tone Penelope wanted to intervene.

  Nash put his hand on Penelope’s thigh and whispered in her ear. “Be careful, my dear. You may poke the bear one too many times.”

  She turned to Nash, “I can’t sit by and watch him bully her.”

  He looked her in the eyes. “Be careful, my love.”

  During the remainder of the dinner, Penelope tried to engage in as much conversation with Lady Sanderson as possible. It seemed a rather successful way to ward off Lord Cheevers.

  After the meal, when the men retreated to the study for cigars and brandy and women went to the parlour, Penelope asked Lady Sanderson if they could speak.

  “I don’t mean to intrude Lady Sanderson, but I once knew a man similar to Lord Cheevers.

  “He was rude to me, condescending and threatened me whenever we were in the same room, which ended up being often.

  “Everywhere I went, he was there. Every day I wondered if I would see him and if he would humiliate me. It was awful.

  “I couldn’t help seeing parallels in Lord Cheevers’ interaction with you. Am I right?”

  Lady Sanderson’s eyes caught on an empty corner of the room, and she strolled there. Penelope joined her. “Please call me Amelia.”

  “And I am, Penelope.”

  “Your observations are correct, Penelope. We are acquaintances and happen to be here at the same time. He is ruining my trip,” she whispered. “What should I do?”

  “You can start by asking the hostess to seat you as far away from him as possible. She’ll understand if you tell her he is pursuing you and his advances are unwanted. See her before the dinner party or as soon as you arrive.

  “Sit with the ladies in the parlour before dinner. Sit for yourself between ladies; it doesn’t matter whom, and turn down his invitation to join him in another part of the room. You know you are allowed to say no to a Lord, don’t you?”

  “What if I’m sitting with ladies, and I turned him down, and he says inappropriate things to me?”

  “You say, ‘Excuse me, My Lord, but I don’t want to be spoken to in that way. Please leave me to my conversation with these lovely ladies.’

  “You can do it, I promise. He’ll eventually back off. You must be consistent, but don’t let him get you alone. You understand?”

  “Yes, thank you, Penelope.”

  Penelope told Nash of her conversation with Amelia when he closed the door to the bedchamber that night. He smiled and brushed her hair away from her face in front of her scar.

  “Good for you. Just be careful. This man is volatile and might take his failure to intimidate her out on you.”

  Penelope didn’t see Lady Sanderson again. She was sad to leave Rome until she got to Catania. On the carriage ride from the dock to Catania, she saw the countryside and charming towns of Sicily.

  Towns with the main square of shops, a church, and a meetinghouse surrounded by small cottages built from blond-coloured brick and topped with a slate roof.

  The air was clean and smelled of the sea, and a gentle breeze circulated keeping the air fresh. The sun shone brightly without a cloud in sight.

  The carriage pulled up to a villa directly facing the ocean with a beach between them. Tall green plants grew around high openings in the villa that Penelope guessed could only be windows.

  The colour of the water was nothing like she had ever seen. In England, the water matched the sky. A dark gray soup that stirred whitecaps but did not improve in temperature or colour.

  In Catania, the ocean was calm. More like a gentle lake than an ocean. The colour started as a light aquamarine blue that slowly brightened to a turquoise colour popular with hats in London summers. A bright blue as far as the eye could see followed. It too matched the sky.

  The guide turned to Penelope, riveted on the sea.

  “Put your bare feet in the water, Duchess. The water is warm, not the ice water you are used to in England.”

  Penelope smiled at him and nodded.

  “Come, I’ll show you around.”

  After touring the villa with Sergio, Penelope put a hand on Nash’s upper arm. “Now I understand why you love it here so much.”

  He grinned. “It’s paradise. Once we’ve settled in, I’ll take you to the beach, and we’ll put our feet in the water. Sergio’s right. The water temperature will surprise you, in a good way.”

  Penelope gave a dazzling smile, as beautiful as the ocean in Catania. Every day, she didn’t think she could love Nash more, and every day, she was proven wrong.

  Sergio was talking, “And the stars at night are brighter and more plentiful. You will love the quiet breeze, the soft rustle of fronds, the curtains billowing. You won’t want to leave.”

  “I’m already convinced. It’s beautiful.”

  Nash smiled. “I knew you’d like it. It’s my favourite place in the world.”

  ***

  “So soon?”

  Nash gave a short laugh. “You are the one who wanted a six-week honeymoon.”

  The trunks were ready to go, and a carriage waited in front of the villa.

  Nash took Penelope’s hand. “Do I have to drag you out?” he said, tugging her forward.

  She sighed. “No.” She looked at the floor then suddenly gazed up into his eyes. “Can we come back?”

  Nash laughed again. “Yes. Maybe on our first wedding anniversary.”

  Penelope pouted. “Or our six-month anniversary.”

  Nash shook his head. “Pace yourself. The boat ride from Rome to Dover is not fun. The honeymoon is over.”

  Penelope growled. “Don’t remind me.”

  Edward picked them up at Dover, having received the travel information sent to him from Rome just before he and Penelope boarded the boat.

  He hugged Penelope. “Did someone die?”

  She sighed. “Yes. My honeymoon.”

  Nash rolled his eyes. “Penelope changed her mind about how long she wanted to be on her honeymoon. It turns out six weeks was not long enough.�
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  Edward laughed. “Oh, well. Let’s get going.”

  They entered the townhouse to greetings from the staff, pleased to have them returned. Penelope smiled. How nice. She knew she and Nash would be happy here.

  Penelope could tell Nash was itching to get to his correspondence and ledgers. He glanced at his study more than once.

  He took her by the elbow and walked her to the bottom step of the staircase.

  “Go rest, Penelope. I’ll send a footman to your mother and brother inviting them to dine with us this evening.”

  Penelope nodded. She was exhausted. The trip from Rome to Dover was as bad as Nash had warned. Every bone in her body ached with a dull, persistent throb. She slowly climbed the stairs.

  ***

  Cecilia gave Penelope a fierce hug. “I feel as if you’ve been gone for a year. Finally, you’re home.”

  Penelope laughed and drew back from her mother. “I feel as if I’ve been gone two weeks. Nash took my hand and dragged me out of the villa in Catania.”

  Cecilia sat on the settee and patted the space next to her. “Come hear all the news and the plans for your wedding.”

  Her wedding. A week away. Penelope still had mixed feelings about the wedding. They were already married. What was she doing having a large, lavish wedding?

  But when she recovered all those years ago, and she saw the scar she had to live with, there was universal agreement that Penelope would become a spinster. Everyone had been proven wrong, and she wanted to show them how wrong they had been.

  “– and you have one more fitting for your dress. What do you think?”

  Penelope hadn’t heard what her mother said, but it didn’t matter. She knew her mother did a great job fulfilling Penelope’s wishes.

  “That sounds wonderful, Mother,” she gushed.

  The smile on Cecilia’s face was enough. Penelope knew she had done well.

  “Is your dress ready, or will you have your final fitting with me?”

  Cecilia smiled again. “It’s home. I’ll show it to you when you visit next. I’m pleased.”

  Nash and Edward stood in the corner of the parlour talking at a barely audible volume.

  “He has been quiet. We haven’t heard a thing. If it weren’t for sightings at White’s, I’m not sure I’d even know he was in town. And Avery has been keeping a low profile. He still meets with his cronies regularly, but he’s more concerned about his image than anything else.

  “He took a hit to his reputation when he announced Penelope’s engagement at the ball. He’s had to work on recovering from that. I wouldn’t be surprised if he asks for your help backing up his story.”

  Nash nodded. He’d help Avery if he could. Just not at the expense of Penelope.

  Nash looked over at Penelope and Cecilia, heads together talking about the wedding. He smiled. This wedding would be good for her.

  Chapter 19

  Penelope sat on a bench in the garden, eyes closed, face tilted toward the sun, the smell of roses in the air.

  “Well, well. There is the honeymoon girl. Did Nash have to close his eyes so he wouldn’t see your face when he swived you?”

  Penelope stood and started walking to the townhouse. She would make sure the outside entrance to the garden was locked from now on.

  Henry raised his voice as he saw Penelope’s back getting further and further away. When she was close to the door, he said, “I’m going to ruin you. This is not over. It will never be over.”

  “I was in the garden when a man came in and asked directions. I thought it best if we locked the door from the street to the garden.”

  Nash walked the length of the parlour and sat next to Penelope. “Did he threaten you? Did he say anything inappropriate?”

  Penelope touched her hand to Nash’s cheek. “No, nothing like that. He was a perfect gentleman.”

  Penelope didn’t like to lie to Nash, but she didn’t want him arrested for pummeling Henry to death either. Hopefully, Henry would stop his futile attempts to get a rise out of her. If she could figure out what could make him back off, then Nash would be none the wiser.

  The following day, Penelope and her maid Helen walked to the cobbler on Bond Street to pick up her slippers and stockings for the wedding. It was a fine, sunny day, and Penelope took her time, in no hurry to go back inside.

  Her slippers were beautiful and fit perfectly. The silk stockings were delicate, and Penelope wondered how long they would last before they ran. No matter. You only get married once. Oops. Penelope giggled to herself.

  “Well, aren’t you in a good mood today, Penelope. No doubt thinking about your big wedding. The wedding I will disrupt and ruin for you. I’ll have so much fun doing it, too. Will I see you cry? Oh, I hope so.”

  Penelope looked at Helen, tilted her head, and picked up the pace. Penelope had told her of the possibility that this might happen. She told her to ignore him, not to talk to him, and walked faster.

  “You can try to ignore me, Penelope, but you will crack. I look forward to watching you blow up. Will it be during an outing like this? Will it be at the altar of the church in front of hundreds of people?”

  Penelope and Helen walked up the stairs to the townhouse, and Coleman opened the door. They hurried into the master bedchamber and shut the door.

  Penelope leaned her back against the shut door until her breathing was even and regular. “Helen, you did well. If we are out, and he comes near us again, I want you to do the same as you did today.”

  “Your Grace, you need to tell the Duke he did this. You could be in danger.”

  “I’ll handle it, Helen. Just remember how we will handle it together when we are out. Just like today.”

  Every time Penelope and Helen went out, Henry found them and harassed Penelope all the way back to the townhouse. At each successive rant, Henry’s voice revealed more desperation. His plan to disrupt Penelope and send her into a panic or fury failed. He mostly threatened to ruin her wedding, but he was not invited, and there would be plenty of security there, so she knew it was an empty threat.

  Penelope stuck to her plan. Arguing with Henry was a complete waste of time. Telling Nash would cause him to do something he would most definitely regret. Or, if he didn’t regret it, he would do something that would get him into a lot of trouble.

  Penelope stepped from the carriage on Bond Street and asked a footman to assist her with her packages. In the milliners, she picked up three hats. A few doors down she picked up six pairs of dyed gloves with the swatches they used to make the match.

  The footman put the packages in the carriage then helped Penelope and Helen in. The lurch told Penelope the carriage was on the way back to the townhouse. She glanced out the window and saw Henry leaning against a wrought iron fence, his hands in fists.

  Chapter 20

  The wedding was a few days away, and Penelope needed to know what Henry was doing and if he had some special plan in that twisted mind of his.

  “Helen, get ready. We are going for a stroll through the park.”

  She looked at Penelope, her brow furrowed. “It’s cloudy and may rain soon, Your Grace.”

  Penelope walked to the window and looked up at the sky. “Oh, it will be fine, Helen.”

  Penelope took an umbrella in case she needed it, and they stepped down the townhouse stairs to the pavement. As she hoped, Henry followed Penelope. She ignored him, but that didn’t stop him from carrying on a one-way conversation with her.

  “See, Penelope? I’m right here by your side. You can count on it. I will never leave you. All the way to the end. Your end.

  “I don’t care about your wedding. I’m interested in spending time with you long after the wedding has taken place. I’ll follow you until the day you die, whenever that may be.”

  It began to rain, so Penelope and Helen put up their umbrellas, and he turned around. They walked by Henry as if he weren’t there.

  “Yes, it would be a shame if something bad happened, and you got si
ck or died. I would find that distressing. You’ve had a narrow escape before, and you were lucky you made it out. I hope your luck doesn’t run out.”

  Penelope and Helen walked up the stairs, and the door of the townhouse opened. Coleman helped her with her coat. She went to her bedchamber with Helen and changed into a dry gown.

  “I’ll be in the library at my writing desk,” she told Helen.

  Nash entered the library and smiled at Penelope. “Hello. What are you doing there?”

  Penelope lifted her head and smiled. “Just correspondence. It was a quiet day, so I thought I’d try to accomplish something.”

  Nash nodded. “You’ve got the wedding jitters.”

  Penelope laughed. “I do not.”

  Nash smiled. “You do. It’s perfectly normal although you already know what you’re getting into. Don’t forget. We want them to see you go down the aisle.”

  “Yes, but I still need to make the trip.”

  “And what a happy trip it will be. I’ll see you at dinner, my dear.”

  “Cecilia and Edward will be here.”

  “Even better.”

  Penelope slumped at her writing desk when Nash shut the door behind him. She didn’t want him to know anything about Henry’s harassment. If he knew she was documenting it, he’d know it was serious, and he’d get involved.

  Penelope sat and took a long breath before beginning to write. She spent the better part of two hours writing, explaining every one-sided conversation she and Henry had. And she explained why she didn’t tell Nash.

  When she finished three copies of the letter, she folded each one, and sealed them with her seal. She rose and went to Coleman.

  “Have my carriage brought around, and let Helen know we are going out.”

  The first stop was the office of the London Times newspaper.

  “Hello, may I help you?” the clerk at the desk inside the door asked.

  Penelope stood straight and summoned her most commanding voice. “Yes, Penelope Finch, Duchess of Norfolk to see the editor.”