Loving a Fearless Duchess

by Abigail Agar

  Penelope furrowed her brow. How could he possibly think that? she thought.

  Nash laughed then leaned forward. “Henry, you are not the only male heir your father has. And his title and lands don’t all depend on you.”

  Now it was Henry’s turn to laugh. “Do your homework Nash; I’m the only one –”

  Edward stood and walked behind his high back chair, leaning his forearms on it.

  Henry took in a short breath. “No.”

  Edward answered, “Yes. Did you forget Cecilia is his sister, and I am her son?”

  “Yes, but, but –”

  “No buts, Henry. Avery has declared me his heir. The ton sends its sympathy, by the way. You see, you have fallen off your horse and hit your head on a rock. You are in a coma. If you ever awake from your coma, which is highly unlikely, the brain damage is likely to be too great to expect your brain to function in a normal way ever again.”

  Henry jumped to his feet again. He tilted his head to the ceiling and screamed. He continued to scream until his voice gave out on him. Then he sat.

  He’s mad, Penelope thought. Maybe he should have gone to bedlam.

  In a raspy, barely audible voice, he said, “No one is coming for me?”

  Edward shook his head. “No, Henry. Not now, not ever. You will spend the remainder of your days as you have spent your days here up to now. Locked in this house, with no way out. I still think you were right. It’s better than jail or bedlam.”

  Nash rose. “That’s why we came. To let you know Edward is Avery’s heir, and you will be here forever.”

  Henry asked, his voice still raspy, “What about Penelope?”

  Nash took a step toward Henry. “What about her?”

  “She liked me. She might be able to get me out.”

  Nash laughed. “You tried to kill her. Years later, she threatened Avery with going to the newspaper if you didn’t stop harassing her. It never stopped. You were always a thorn in her side in one way after another. She is happy now and can finally get some sleep knowing you are here and can no longer hurt her or bother her.”

  Edward shook his head. “Goodbye, Henry.”

  “Wait,” he yelled while Edward and Nash left the room. Nash took Penelope’s hand and squeezed it.

  They walked out the front door. Something Henry would never do.

  In the carriage headed for the main house, Edward turned to Nash, “That went well, don’t you think?”

  “Very well.”

  *****

  Chapter 29

  The carriage stopped in front of Edgewood Mansion, and Penelope, Edward, and Nash stepped out. They looked up to its tall spire pricking the sky. The front doors, double, heavy wooden doors, were closed. Above them, a stained glass circle dominated the façade.

  The foyer was two storeys high with the feel of standing inside a kaleidoscope. Edward wasn’t sure he liked the feeling but would probably get used to it as well as many of the other quirks of Edgewood.

  The butler, Thomas, ushered them in, and took their travel cloaks. Once introduced, he offered tea.

  The travellers went to the parlour. It was comfortable and understated. They would find a similar feel through the rest of the house. A complete turnaround from the foyer.No heavy brocades or white linen upholstery. Function and form were considered.

  “When would it be convenient for me to lead a tour, My Lord?” Thomas inquired when tea was winding down.

  Edward looked at Penelope and said, “We will need to rest after our journey. Around four o’clock before we take afternoon tea?”

  “Very well. Your trunks have been taken to your rooms, My Lord. Jack will show you the way.” Thomas bowed and left the room while Jack gestured for them to go ahead.

  Edward soon found out the architectural interest in the foyer didn’t repeat throughout the house.

  Serviceable furnishings were found in every room. Whoever had decorated was either repulsed by colour or colourblind. The different tones of brown, beige, and moss green were used throughout. Edward found it calming. Penelope found it to be a new wife’s dream come true.

  “Edward, I hope you know that when you marry, the inside of your home is hers to do with what she may.”

  “Of course, Penelope. Your point?”

  “Her redecorating budget should be rather large.”

  Edward said nothing and moved on. During teatime, Penelope made several observations about the house.

  “Your staff is all very nice, very capable people who have been adrift on a ship with no captain. I think they have done an admirable job, but the ship needs direction. And soon. You will get nothing done outside this house if you must take your valuable time with needs inside.”

  “I would like to send you someone for the short term. To right your ship. She’ll get everything in order then you can come back to London next season and find yourself a wife. It will fill the gap.

  “I’ll send along her companion, so there is nothing untoward about the arrangement. You won’t even have to think about the inside of the house again.”

  “One of your tea ladies, I suppose?”

  Penelope smiled. “Of course. Mirabelle knows how to run a house. She is doing so now. I would never send you someone in need of training.”

  Edward looked out the window for the fifteenth time. Penelope knew he was distracted, wanting to ride into the village. “So, it’s settled then. I’ll bring her here within the month.”

  “Um, hmm, “Edward said. He looked up at Nash. “Shall we go into the village?”

  “Yes, let’s,” Nash said. As he passed Penelope, he whispered, “Are you in the least bit ashamed of yourself for foisting that girl on Edward?”

  Penelope turned her head, offering Nash her cheek. “Have fun in the village, dear.”

  *****

  Edward had arranged for the villagers to meet with him at noon the following day. The village had a meetinghouse, so Edward arranged to have lunch brought in. After walking through the hall, meeting people who he promised to forget their names, Edward went to the end of the hall, stood on a chair and spoke.

  “Thank you for coming. I am the next Duke of Somerset, Edward Balfour. As a child, I lived in the manse. I remember the village fondly. I have plans for this village, to improve it in many ways, but I will do nothing without hearing first from every one of you who would like to speak on improving our village. Any other topic will need to wait another day, but I seek your advice on the village. Would anyone like to begin?”

  An older man in pants that Edward guessed hadn’t been washed since the man’s twentieth birthday raised his hand.

  “Yes, sir?” Edward asked.

  “The dower house. What’s going on in there? There’s a rumour Lord Henry’s ghost lives there and haunts the place.”

  Edward nodded. “Well, let’s put those rumours to rest. Henry is alive and does indeed live in the dower house. Unfortunately, he had an accident to his head. He is no longer able to think as you or I do. He is watched day and night, so he is not a danger to others or to himself.

  “Would anyone like to talk about ways we could improve the village?”

  When the meeting was over, Edward told the villagers to take the extra food home with them. Within minutes there wasn’t a crumb left in the meetinghouse.

  The persistent ‘Henry’ questions interspersed with village improvement comments, made the meeting frustrating for Edward.

  He felt a hand slap his back. “They’re curious. He was dumped in the dower house with no explanation, and your villagers have had plenty of time to speculate. They deserve the truth, and you gave it. They will roll the village improvement question around in their heads and give you much more at your next meeting.”

  Edward turned to Nash. “My next meeting?”

  “Of course. You can’t come up here and hold one meeting then walk away, can you?”

  Edward breathed deep. “No, I suppose I can’t. Do you think they would want to nominate someone to tal
k with me regularly?”

  Nash nodded. “Do yourself a favour. Get a group of three. Don’t give one man that much power.”

  *****

  “Come,” Edward said, looking down at papers on his desk as someone walked into his office. He glanced up and saw Minton standing before him.

  “Minton, please have a seat,” Edward gestured to a chair facing his desk. “I’m sure you are here with bad news, but first, may I say I am very pleased with the arrangements we have in place.”

  Minton nodded. “Thank you, My Lord. Until recently, I would have said this arrangement had been ideal, but, I am concerned. Since you and the Duke of Norfolk visited him, he has been agitated all day, every day. I waited, hoping it would lessen over time, but it has not.

  “Cook suggested putting lemongrass in his food. She says it is a calming herb that may help ease his agitation.”

  “Go ahead and start the lemongrass. I will talk with the healer to see if there is anything else we can do.

  “Tell me, Minton, when agitated what does he say and do?”

  Minton took a deep breath, “He talks of you and your sister, Her Grace. He speaks of killing you.”

  Edward barked out a laugh. “Does he say how he plans to accomplish this fete? Is he developing a plan?”

  Minton winced, “Sadly, My Lord, he has not yet divulged the details of his plan.”

  Edward nodded grimly. Will the nightmare of Henry ever end? “Thank you, Minton. I’ll send for the healer.”

  *****

  Nash and Penelope left Edgewood and Edward. He rose every morning and went to the village or the fields. From major projects to minor fixes, there was much to be done.

  He hired six men to work with him to bring every cottage back to a livable condition. Leaky roofs were fixed, fireplaces were cleaned out, and windows and doors put in working order.

  The men split wood then stacked it next to every fireplace in every cottage in the village. They dug a new well near enough to be of service, but far enough away from the other well to be accessible to the fields. Ruts along the main road were filled in, and Edward promised to look into getting cobblestones.

  He came to enjoy the physical work and gratification of how much progress had been made. The villagers were genuinely kind.

  He met with three village elders at lunch on Wednesdays. All villagers were welcome to the lunch but needn’t comment if they chose not to. Most did not. Most came through the meetinghouse, grabbed some food, and then left. He started having Cook make more. The villagers began to rely on the extra food. Edward was fine with that. He got to see most villagers that way.

  Since the village improvements were well on their way, Edward wrote to the agriculture specialist in London and asked him if he could join him at Edgewood. He got a letter back from his mother, letting him know to expect her, Penelope, and Lady Mirabelle Osgood along with Sir Jeffrey Lyons, the agricultural expert.

  Edward slapped the letter against his forehead. She is kidding, right? She doesn’t really think I have time to deal with a fragile debutante while I am knee deep in important things. She and Penelope will have to deal with Lady Mirabelle Osgood.

  A few days later, Edward received another letter, this time from Nash. He was enjoying the quiet of not having Penelope and Cecilia at home. He took his dinner in his office several times this week and left the candle burning into the night while reading in bed. One day, he was in the bath until the water became cold.

  Penelope would return, but Nash warned that Cecilia might want to stay on longer. And as for Lady Mirabelle Osgood? Nash confirmed what Edward already knew. She was a ‘tea girl.’ She came to tea so Penelope could help her. Penelope wasn’t trying to fix him up with her, though; she just wanted the girl to become more social. Because she had burns on her hands, she was painfully shy.

  Edward dropped his head onto his desk. He would not accept any more correspondence from the outside world. And he would strangle Penelope.

  One of Edward’s stable boys found him in town to announce the arrival of the much-anticipated carriage.

  “Let them know I’m on my way,” he told the boy then turned to finish what he had been doing. When he was done, he looked around at everything else he could do and then laughed. ‘Nope. Time to face my travellers.’

  Edward cleaned up the best he could under short notice then walked into his parlour filled with people who all wanted a piece of his time, except maybe for the shy girl.

  Cecilia stood and opened her arms, prompting Edward to walk into her embrace. “Oh, Edward. You look exhausted. You’re working too hard. You will take time out to be with me.”

  “Hello, Mother,” he replied, and then backed out of her embrace.

  “Would you do the honours?”

  “Certainly. You have met Sir Jeffrey Lyons? He’s an agriculture expert. He has been telling us about how his job will help you. A fascinating man.

  Edward and Sir Jeffrey bowed.

  Cecilia turned Edward in a semicircle. “And this dear lady is our friend, Mirabelle Osgood.”

  Edward bowed, but Mirabelle curtsied without greeting him or looking into his eyes. He glanced at Penelope. She had her hands full with this one.

  “Brother,” Penelope said, “sit near me and tell me all your progress since I was last here.”

  He sat next to Penelope then promptly tried to bore the three ladies to death with talk of leaky roofs and rutted roads. Then Edward turned to Penelope.

  “You ladies look exhausted. After tea, may I suggest you rest while Sir Jeffrey and I travel the fields?”

  Cecilia sighed. “Sir Jeffrey made our journey easier to bear, but I’m afraid you’re right, Edward.”

  Edward pulled the bell. When Thomas arrived, he gave instructions to show the ladies to their rooms.

  “Let me apologize outright, Sir Jeffrey, if your journey here was difficult. I’m not sure I could handle that group for long, although it seems Lady Osgood doesn’t have much to say.”

  “Thank you, My Lord, but your mother and sister are wonderful company. Your sister warned me about Lady Osgood, and what she said was true. I haven’t any idea what the young lady’s voice sounds like.

  “No matter. I’m pleased to be here. Shall we get started?”

  “Would you like a few minutes in your room before we go?”

  Sir Jeffrey smiled, “Not necessary. Let’s go.”

  Edward found Sir Jeffrey to be dedicated to his profession. The man wanted to walk clear through the fields with a spade in hand, turning over the dirt periodically to test the level of water in the soil.

  “You say it rained the day before yesterday? A drizzle, steady rain, a downpour? For how long?”

  “I’d say five hours drizzle, six hours steady.”

  Sir Jeffrey nodded and walked on.

  “My Lord, did you say you have plans drawn up of your property, or should I take notes to draw them up later?”

  “We have full property plans, including borders. They seem to be in good order and accurate. I’m not sure when they were last updated.”

  He walked on, Edward and the horses behind him.

  Sir Jeffrey walked into the next field and swung his arm down his side and to the back. “For the sheep. Where next?”

  “Pardon, Sir Jeffrey?” Edward said.

  “You don’t want to grow anything here. Keep it for the sheep.”

  “This way, then,” Edward said and grinned at the back of Sir Jeffrey as he walked ahead.

  *****

  Chapter 30

  “Come,” Edward said, turning to see Cara enter the office. “Shut the door, Cara.”

  She curtsied then did. She sat in her usual chair.

  “How is our patient?” Edward asked, sitting tall behind his desk, hands folded together.

  “He’s better, My Lord, but I would like to give him more lemongrass, with your permission. The guards tell me he has quiet moments but then gets himself into a state that makes their jobs difficult.�
�

  “I see. Go ahead with more lemongrass. Is there another healer you can meet with to find out if anything stronger than lemongrass exists?”

  “My mother’s aunt lives in the next village, My Lord. I could ask her.”

  “I’ll send you on horseback with two escorts to leave at ten this morning. Is there anything else to do?”

  “No, My Lord,” Cara said, stood, curtsied, and said goodbye.

  *****

  “Either my mother or I will always be with you, so you will never be alone while we do this,” Penelope said gently.

  She looked at Mirabelle and smiled. She had to fight the urge to pat her head. Her hands made her so shy and self-conscious, making Mirabelle seem much younger than her twenty-two years.

  Mirabelle was one of Penelope’s favourites but also one of her most difficult ‘tea girls.’ She had been to tea six times and spent two and a half days in the same carriage with her, and Penelope could count on one hand the number of words Mirabelle spoke.

  “Our goal, Mirabelle, is to get you ready to run a home this size. I told Edward you had experience running a house, but I didn’t mention the size of the house. Now that we have toured it, and you are familiar with its size, it should be a comfort that you know every room, every piece of linen, and every utensil in this house. We are ready.

  “You and I are going into the kitchen, and you are going to ask Cook to show you today’s menu, after pleasantries, of course.”

  Mirabelle nodded.

  Penelope put Mirabelle in front of her and gently pushed her into the kitchen.

  “Hello, Cook,” Mirabelle said, her voice low, her eyes on her gloves.

  Cook turned around, smiled brightly, and curtsied. “Lady Mirabelle, how may I help you?”

  Mirabelle looked over at Penelope. Penelope folded her arms across her chest and pretended to look for birds on the ceiling. Mirabelle turned back to Cook.

  “May I, please, if I could, would it be alright with you if I saw tonight’s menu?”