Loving a Fearless Duchess

by Abigail Agar

  The clerk rose to his feet and bowed. “Your Grace. This way.”

  Penelope followed the clerk all the way to the back of the building, passing desks of workers with papers piled high in a haphazard fashion that made Penelope nervous the stacks would fall over at any minute. Paper littered the floor, and the wastebaskets were full of more paper, some crumpled up. Penelope couldn’t imagine working in this chaos.

  “Mr Tomlinson, may I present the Duchess of Norfolk,” the clerk said then left, closing the office door behind him. Mr Tomlinson did not wear his suit coat and had pushed up his sleeves a few inches to keep the fabric out of the way of ink. His hair was mussed from having dragged his hand through it. Penelope guessed he did so very often given the state of his hair. Penelope did not think Mr Tomlinson shaved this morning. His face was a field of stubble.

  Mr Tomlinson stood and bowed. “Your Grace.” He gestured to a chair. “Please, have a seat.

  “May I offer you tea?”

  “Thank you, Mr Tomlinson, but no. I have a rather unusual request of you. I would like to give you a document,” Penelope did not attempt to retrieve the document from her reticule, “to be published in the case of my death. Is that something you can do?”

  Mr Tomlinson sat forward and put his arms on his desk. “That depends, Your Grace. What is the nature of this document?”

  “This conversation is confidential, Mr Tomlinson?”

  “Of course, Your Grace.”

  “I am being threatened. The man who threatens me follows me through London’s streets. His threats began as small nuisances and inconveniences. They escalated and now include bodily harm and death.

  “I want the information I give you to be under lock and key and to be used upon my death. What you publish will cause Scotland Yard to investigate and ultimately convict the murderer. Is this possible Mr Tomlinson?”

  Mr Tomlinson sat back in his seat. “Your Grace. This is possible unless the man you name in the document is your husband. Under those circumstances, I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to fulfill your wishes.”

  Penelope smiled. “No, it is not my husband.”

  Mr Tomlinson turned away then looked at Penelope. “Your Grace, may I ask why the Duke has not come, given the seriousness of the circumstances?”

  Penelope sat straight in her chair. “My husband becomes very emotional to threats against me. When he is highly emotional, things have a way of becoming unpredictable.” She would not tell Mr Tomlinson that she believed she could handle this on her own, without the help of a man.

  Mr Tomlinson stood and went to his safe, turning the wheel right, left, and right. Penelope heard the click and saw him grab the arm and push it down before pulling it out.

  “Your Grace?” Tomlinson said as he walked to her. She pulled the sealed letter out of her reticule and handed it over.

  Mr Tomlinson walked back to the safe, placed the letter in an area in the back, then shut the door and rolled the dial.

  Penelope rose. “Thank you, Mr Tomlinson.”

  He bowed. “Your Grace.”

  Her next stop was the solicitor representing the Finch family and the Norfolk County seat. A clerk ushered her in to see Mr Matheson, and he closed the door behind him.

  Mr Matheson stood and bowed when Penelope walked in. “Tea, Your Grace?”

  “No. I won’t be here that long.”

  Mr Matheson was a man in his late 30s who wore little round glasses. He constantly moved his head, shifting left, right, up, down to get the best angle to read a document in front of him.

  For now, he put aside the document he had been reading before Penelope arrived and folded his hands on the bare wood of his desk.

  “Mr Matheson, are the files you have on our business dealings locked?”

  Mr Matheson looked surprised at the question. “Yes, Your Grace. Unless I am actively working on a folder, your papers are always locked.”

  “And Mr Matheson, who can access these files?”

  Matheson furrowed his brow but continued, “I have the only key. My clerks need to ask me to unlock a cabinet if they need access to a file.”

  Penelope gave a small smile. “And Mr Matheson, besides my husband and myself, who can direct you to open those files?”

  Mr Matheson patiently answered, “No one. Until you have a child. If you have a child, and the child has a guardian, then the guardian could direct us to open your files. When the child is old enough, no matter if under your care or the care of a guardian, he or she has access to the files.”

  Penelope sat back in her chair. She smiled. “Thank you, Mr Matheson.” She took the letter out of her reticule and handed it to the solicitor.

  “This is a letter summarizing the harassment I have received from a gentleman. The harassment has escalated to his threat of my death. I want you to lock it in your file and do nothing with it unless you hear of my death. If you do hear of my death, please take it to Scotland Yard so they can investigate and find the killer.”

  “Your Grace, shouldn’t your husband be handling this?”

  Penelope sighed. “I am a very capable person, Mr Matheson. I fear my husband would be very angry about these incidents, and someone might be beaten so bloodied that my husband’s actions would be counterproductive.”

  “I see.” Mr Matheson nodded.

  “Yes, I believe you do,” Penelope said. “So, here is the letter, to be opened upon my death.”

  Mr Matheson came around the desk. He dug out his keys from his vest pocket and put a key in one of the cabinets located in his office. He opened the door and pulled out the files belonging to the Duke of Norfolk. After putting them on his desk, he took the letter Penelope gave him and added it to one of the files. He put the files back in the cabinet and locked the cabinet drawer.

  Two out of three complete.

  Avery’s butler Waters was surprised and pleased to see Penelope. He gave a small smile, but his eyes danced. She wanted to hug him, her fondness for him bubbling up, but of course, she did not.

  “Waters, I am here to see Avery. Is he at home? I have a business matter I must speak to him about immediately. Preferably, in his study.”

  Waters bowed. “I shall return shortly.”

  True to his word, Waters returned. “He will see you in his study.”

  “Uncle Avery,” Penelope said and curtsied.

  Avery bowed.

  “Have a seat, my dear,” he said while sweeping his hand toward a seat across from his desk.

  “May I call for tea?” he asked.

  “No, Uncle, not on my account.”

  Penelope was surprised that Avery took the chair next to her instead of the one behind his desk. She adjusted her seat slightly and began.

  “I’m not sure if you are aware of it, but Henry has been following me around. He is no longer welcome at the Duke’s home, so he follows me on the street. While following me, he makes wild remarks about how I became a Duchess as well as threatening me with bodily harm and even death.”

  Penelope stopped, searching for a reaction in Avery’s eyes, but she found none. His mouth had a slight upturn on one side. She knew he thought she had no power against him or Henry, and this was a waste of his time.

  She proceeded, “I had to give a lot of thought to how I could make Henry permanently stop harassing me. You may have already discounted me in your mind, thinking I, as a woman, even a Duchess do not have any rights and need to live with Henry.

  “I have left a letter with the London Times and another with Nash’s and my solicitor explaining the circumstances under which Henry has threatened me.

  “Should I die, the editor of the newspaper, as well as our solicitor, has been instructed to open the letters and use them to investigate Henry as the killer.

  “An unflattering write up in the newspaper would, on its own, cause concern among your peers. A murder investigation would end your carefully constructed reputation.”

  Avery was pale. So pale, Penelope thought he might pa
ss out. He stared straight ahead avoiding Penelope’s eyes.

  Penelope continued. “Uncle Avery, I never want to see or hear from Henry again. I believe you are the only person who can make this happen.

  “I am going home now to tell Nash. I haven’t told him yet because I thought he might beat Henry to death and end up in jail. He may take out his anger at Henry on you and your reputation. I will attempt to stop him, but he won’t take the threat of murder lightly.

  “I am counting on you to keep Henry away from me from this moment on. If he even attempts to attend our wedding, there will be an unflattering story about it in the London Times the next day. I will continue to go to the newspaper every time there is an incident. The ton devoured stories like this in the past. I see no reason they wouldn’t now. Who knows? The magistrate may have interest.”

  Penelope stood, and Avery followed suit. She looked into his darting eyes. “Do we understand each other Uncle Avery?”

  Avery stood still.

  “Uncle Avery?”

  He seemed to slowly wake as if so deep in his thoughts he was fighting to rise.

  “Yes, Penelope. I understand. I’ll take care of it. Please don’t go around town in fear. Don’t limit your movements because of him,” he said in a low voice.

  “Thank you, Uncle. I knew I could count on you. I’ll see you at the wedding.”

  He looked surprised. “Am I still invited?”

  “Of course. How would it look if you weren’t there?”

  Penelope laughed and went home for her conversation with Nash.

  About halfway through Penelope’s explanation of her actions to block Henry, Nash got up and started pacing. His hand went through his hair during every second or third turn on the floor.

  By the end, he sat next to Penelope and pulled her hand between the two of his. “I’m your husband. I should take care of you and keep you safe.”

  She gave him a small smile and tilted her head. “I know. That’s what frightened me. If you beat him as forcefully as I thought you would beat him, I would have to visit you in jail. I couldn’t bear that.”

  “I wouldn’t be sent to jail.”

  Penelope rolled her eyes. “Now we don’t have to find out. Avery will take care of it. He loves his reputation more than he loves Henry.”

  Nash laughed. “I believe you’re right. We will enjoy our big wedding more knowing Henry won’t be there.”

  Penelope sighed. “So true.”

  Nash checked the mantle clock and kissed Penelope before ordering his carriage. Once he was gone, Penelope ordered her carriage and headed to see her mother and brother.

  Penelope went through her story one last time and handed Edward the last copy of her letter. She had told Avery she had dropped them off at the solicitor and the newspaper.

  Avery might have influence over their solicitor or the London Times, but he’d never get to Penelope’s brother. Both Cecilia and Edward read what Penelope wrote and agreed it covered the facts well. Both Cecilia and Penelope didn’t want Edward to tell them where he would hide it.

  Now, she was ready for her wedding.

  Chapter 21

  Avery called Henry into his study and asked him to close the door. Henry poured himself a drink, noting that Avery already had one, and then sat in a comfortable chair near the fire.

  Avery sat across from his son. “I got a complaint that you have been harassing Penelope.”

  Henry lifted his head and looked into Avery’s eyes, “It’s not true.”

  Avery looked back and held Henry’s eyes. “Have you seen her recently?”

  Henry broke the gaze. “I’m barred from their house.”

  Avery took a deep breath. “That’s not what I asked. Have you seen her recently?”

  “Sometimes when I’m out I see her on the street.”

  Avery nodded. “Then what happens?”

  Henry shrugged. “I talk to her.”

  Avery nodded again. “What do you talk to her about?”

  Henry shifted his weight in his chair and swirled the whisky in its glass. “Different things each time I see her.”

  Avery looked into Henry’s face, but Henry would not meet his eyes. “How many times did you see her this week?”

  Henry shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  Avery sighed. “Take a moment to think about it. How many times did you see her this week?”

  Henry leaned forward, his forearms on his thighs. “What’s this about?”

  “Answer the question, Henry.”

  Henry sat back and moved his head to the right, disengaging himself from this conversation.

  Avery did nothing but wait. He crossed his leg, drank some whisky, and watched the fire.

  “Probably four,” Henry spat out.

  “So in the past week, you have run into Penelope four times?”

  “Yes,” he answered.

  “Where?”

  “Where?” Henry repeated.

  “Where did you run into her? The location.”

  Henry shook his head. “Seriously, you want me to tell you where I bumped into Penelope during this past week?”

  “Yes,” Avery said, with an undercurrent of a man losing his patience.

  “Bond Street, Ackerman Street, Hyde Park, and Fifth Street. Teahouses, fabric shops, imports from India.”

  “And what was Penelope doing on Ackerman Street?”

  Henry took a long drink of his whisky. “She was looking for a hair comb at one of those import shops.”

  Avery stood and walked around to the back of his chair and leaned on it. “I’m not going to bother asking you about Bond Street or Hyde Park. I’ve heard enough. You’re stalking her, and that is unacceptable behaviour, Henry.”

  “I’m not,” Henry yelled and jumped out of his seat.

  “I have to think, Henry, about what we’re going to do with this problem. I shouldn’t have to lock a grown man in his room so that he won’t disrupt a wedding. Until I have thought this through, you will not have any contact with Penelope. If I hear that you have had contact with Penelope, you will be locked in your room indefinitely.”

  “That’s ridiculous, Father.”

  “What’s ridiculous is your behaviour towards Penelope.”

  Henry slammed down his glass of whisky and left the room.

  Chapter 22

  Penelope and Cecilia were in the bedchamber Nash always kept empty so Penelope had an extra space in the townhouse. There were at least four maids coming in and out of the room at all times.

  A maid was helping lace up the back of Cecilia’s gown. A fitted light yellow coloured chiffon gown flattered her. Madame Leduc outdid herself.

  Madame patiently waited for Penelope’s hair to be dressed before she got to work.

  “More tea for our guests, Roberta,” Cecilia said. Roberta pulled the bell to get the kitchen started going then went downstairs to carry the tray to the bedchamber.

  “Last chance, Penelope. You’re sure you want to wear your hair that way?”

  Penelope laughed. “I’m sure.”

  She looked in the mirror then moved her head left and right. There it was. Her scar.For the entire world to see.

  Her hairstyle was perfect. Brushed back in a low chignon. The large sapphire earrings fell halfway down her neck, four three-carat stones on each side. Nash laughed when he gave them to her as a gift.

  “You can’t help looking at these earrings. Your eyes are drawn to that area.”

  Penelope had laughed back. “It will give them a good excuse to look.”

  “Exactly.”

  Madame Leduc approached Penelope, arms carefully holding the dress she made. She held it over Penelope’s head and carefully let it slip to the floor without ruining her hair.

  All in the room stilled as they saw the gown on Penelope for the first time. Madame Leduc snapped her fingers causing her two assistants to get to work buttoning the gown. Penelope couldn’t help thinking how frustrated Nash would be unbuttoning all
those small buttons tonight.

  Penelope was a vision in all ivory lace that had the give to hug every part of her body. The long sleeves hugged her arms so her sapphire bracelet, more three-carat stones, was on display. Her neckline began at the top of her breasts and fitted her to the waist where the fabric flared in a drape that was elegant. The six-carat sapphire teardrop necklace finished the look.

  Madame Leduc stood back and clasped her hands. “You are beautiful, my dear.”

  Edward knocked on the door. “Penelope, it’s time.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Cecilia went to her. “What did you decide about the veil?”

  “No veil.”

  Cecilia smiled. “I’m so happy.”

  She pulled on Penelope’s hand and led her out the door. Edward gasped but was tongue-tied, and Penelope giggled.

  Penelope looked around the carriage on the way to the church. She was on one bench while Cecilia and Edward were on the other.

  She beamed. “My family.”

  Having found his voice, Edward said, “You look nice, sis. Don’t trip on your dress walking down the aisle. You’ll have the whole place bowled over.”

  “Thank you for your concern Edward,” she said dryly.

  The carriage stopped in front of the church, and two footmen helped Penelope down. When she lifted her head, her eyes met those of her uncle’s. He smiled but looked sheepish. She nodded and gave him a small smile back.

  The organ began to play. Avery took Cecilia’s arm, and they walked slowly down the aisle to settle into the first pew.

  Edward turned to Penelope. “I’ve never been more confident that you are doing the right thing marrying Nash.”

  Penelope looked into Edward’s eyes. “Thank you for always being my champion.”

  He patted her hand and began walking. “You’re welcome.”

  Penelope saw the Calla Lilies at the end of each pew were beautiful. She could see their two huge arrangements at the altar. She gave her biggest, most beautiful smile and didn’t have to force it. It came naturally.

  She and Edward were walking slowly enough so Penelope could see the looks on people’s faces to her left. Eyes went wide. Women put their heads together to talk. Young ladies in their season looked puzzled.