by Abigail Agar
She curtsied and left.
Avery slapped Nash on the back. “Well, I’ll let you get to it. Good talk.”
They both bowed and went in separate directions.
*****
Penelope and Nash sat in the parlour drinking tea while the footmen brought Penelope’s things to Nash’s bedchamber.
Penelope’s eyes were bright. “It took no time at all. With Helen working beside me, we took your advice, and packed a little haphazardly. Now, we are here. Now, I’m home.”
“You are. Once you have had a chance to settle in, we’ll go see your mother and brother. I imagine they are as happy as you are.
“But first, we need to talk of our big wedding and our honeymoon.”
Penelope sat up straight and gave Nash her full attention. “I have decided—”
Penelope put up her hand, palm out. “You were just married, so I will forgive you. Don’t you know husbands never began a sentence with ‘I’ve decided’?”
Nash narrowed his eyes. He was in dangerous territory, and he knew it. “Quite right, my dear. As I was saying, I have been thinking about our honeymoon. If you will agree, I would like to leave on it almost immediately.” Penelope went to open her mouth, but Nash put his index finger in the air for her to stop.
“I haven’t forgotten about our wedding. I propose you and Cecilia plan it before we leave, and Cecilia can do your bidding while we are gone. I thought she might even like to do it.”
Nash sat back waiting for the onslaught. He had no idea how difficult it might be to talk her into this plan, but he was about to find out.
“Go on a honeymoon then come back for the wedding? That is total madness. We would be the laughingstock of London.”
Nash smiled. He knew this would be her objection. Thank God, she didn’t have an objection he couldn’t overcome.
“Penelope, everyone knows we are married. I think the sheep in the Scottish Highlands know we are married. What difference does it make if the honeymoon is before or after the big wedding? You know everyone will come either way.
“There won’t be an empty pew in the church. The celebration we hold here after the wedding will probably have more people in attendance than in the church before.
“It will be the biggest ton event this season. And it has nothing to do with when we go on our honeymoon.”
He blew out a long slow breath. “Penelope, I need the honeymoon. I need to be with you without Avery and Henry and the general nonsense we have been putting up with for so long. I have my needs. And right now, my need is to make love to you in Sicily while looking out the window at the beauty of Mount Aetna.”
Penelope’s eyes were watching her hands in her lap. Nash knew she wouldn’t say no to him. She just had to come to terms with it first.
She lifted her head and looked into Nash’s eyes. “I suppose I could talk to Mother about the idea, see what she thinks. See if she’s willing to take on the project.”
Nash got up and went to where Penelope sat. He sat on his haunches. “I knew there was a reason I love you.”
She pushed his arm playfully. He fell over, his laughter making him too weak to get up.
Once Penelope was satisfied with Helen’s progress, she and Nash took their carriage to call on Cecilia and Edward. Their butler, Simons let them in, trying but failing to look stoic. Nash was sure every servant in the house was as happy as Simons.
*****
Cecilia and Edward joined them in the parlour shortly after they arrived, and tea was served promptly.
Nash observed, “I think, at least for today, your servants are the happiest in London. Fear not, once they get to know you, Edward –”
Penelope huffed. “Stop that.” She turned to her mother, “Are you settling in? Do you need anything?”
“Penelope, I have more than I could ever need. This house is lovely. I think Edward and I will be happy here.”
Nash sat up straight. “Good, because Penelope and I are leaving, and we expect to be gone two months.”
Penelope gasped and said, “Two months?”
At the same time, Edward said, “About time you went on your honeymoon.”
Penelope looked at Edward. “Excuse me, Edward.”
She turned to her husband, “Two months?”
Her reaction was just as he predicted. “Not longer, Nash. Shorter. Two months is far too long.”
“Penelope, you know the time it takes to travel. We’ll need two months if we are to stay in one place longer than a day.”
“Nash, this is a honeymoon, not the Grand Tour ... We simply don’t need that amount of time.”
Nash looked at the ceiling, counting to ten. He hoped Penelope thought he was distressed. This would only work if she did.
“What is here in London that you cannot be gone on your honeymoon with your husband? A lover, perhaps?”
Penelope gasped, and then laughed. “You’re trying to bait me.”
Nash got up and paced. “No, I’m trying to go on my honeymoon.”
Edward took the chair next to Penelope. “Perhaps I can help? I’ve heard a lot of men at the club talk about their honeymoon.”
He and Nash had arranged Edward’s participation in Penelope’s objection. Nash let him continue.
Edward said, “Well, most gentlemen take honeymoons between six weeks and three months. Why? Most travel to Paris and spend a week or two there then move on to their destination, usually somewhere in Italy or Greece. Magnificent places to honeymoon to be sure. Almost to a man, they say this type of honeymoon has been a success.”
Nash was amused to discover the only words Penelope heard from Edward’s perfect description of the honeymoon was “six weeks.”
“Six weeks, you say Edward?” Penelope said, tilting her head to Nash.
Nash pretended to act irritated. “Did you have to mention six weeks, Edward?” But he was satisfied. He came in looking for six weeks, and his honeymoon would be six weeks long.
Edward shrugged, trying to keep his smile to himself.
After a long sigh, Nash said, “Fine, six weeks. We are spending time in Paris and will sail to Sicily. We’ll just have to hurry ourselves along.”
“Oh, stop acting like a boy who has had his favourite toy taken away. We’ll have plenty of time.”
Cecilia said, “Now that the honeymoon has been settled, we will have to hurry the big wedding along.”
Nash looked at Penelope. “Well, Nash and I think we’ll get married after the honeymoon.
Both Cecilia and Edward laughed.
Nash and Penelope looked at each other. Cecilia saw them and stopped laughing.
“You are serious?” she said.
“We are. And we want you to be a very big part of it,” Penelope said.
She and Cecilia had a conversation with voices low so Nash and Edward couldn’t hear. He couldn’t vouch for Edward, but Nash was thankful he couldn’t hear it.
Finally, mother and daughter broke from their private talk to acknowledge the men in the room. Penelope spoke, looking into Nash’s eyes. Nash knew that look. She was going to stand her ground. Cecilia sat straight, arms crossed. These women were serious.
Penelope asked Nash, “Exactly when were you thinking we would be going on this honeymoon?”
Nash looked Penelope in the eyes while he scrambled for the right answer. He never could figure her out, and he wasn’t going to start now. He would never come up with the right answer.
“One week,” he said. Then he wanted to hide until the fallout was over.
Penelope seemed to relax. “Then it’s settled. We’ll go in ten days. That will give Mother and me time to plan everything she will need to do while we’re gone. And it will give me time to visit the modiste. I’ll need to know what kind of weather we should expect.”
Nash relaxed as well. “I love you, dear Penelope.”
Penelope gasped and looked around the room. “Nash.”
Nash took his eyes off Penelope and looked at
Cecilia. “What is Cook serving this evening?”
Chapter 16
Nash, Penelope, Cecilia, and Edward were sitting in Nash and Penelope’s parlour. All breathed a sigh of relief that they weren’t under Avery’s roof any longer.
Nash wondered about the arrangement. Avery seemed happy to have them live with him, and it didn’t hurt his reputation that his sister’s family lived there.
But he also seemed to keep his distance. Or maybe that wasn’t it. He always seemed to separate his life from Cecilia’s and her family. Her friends were her friends, and his friends were his.
Edward didn’t think his uncle would introduce him to a girl he might be interested in. Their social lives didn’t mix.
Except for Henry. He always seemed to be in their way, making his presence known. Cecilia thought Avery wouldn’t introduce Henry to his friends’ daughters any more than he would Edward.
Nash asked, “I hope I’m not being too forward, but I’ve always been curious about how you came to live with Avery. I think I would enjoy hearing the story.
Edward said, “Enjoy is the wrong word. But we’d be fine about telling it, Mother? Penelope?”
They nodded.
“It all began when our father died.”
Mother looked blank. Standing in front of the gaping hole in the ground in the shade of the church, her eyes were open, but Edward knew she did not see.
He held Penelope’s hand firmly. He didn’t want Cecilia to disrupt her and inadvertently rebuff Penelope. At ten, Penelope wouldn’t understand why her mother would be so unresponsive.
Neither did Edward. Only two years older, he was doing his best to handle as much as he could. Twice he shut the door on a man who wanted to look to buy the furniture in the house.
Did they need to sell the furniture for money so they could eat? He didn’t know. He wished he could ask his father these things. Instead, his father dropped dead before Edward could even think to ask a question.
The service was over. The prayers at the cemetery were over. The townspeople had dispersed. The priest went to his mother, “Lay Balfour. Could you come into the rectory for a moment?”
She nodded. Edward didn’t believe she had any idea why she did. Someone asked her a question, and she nodded.
Edward followed his mother while he still held Penelope’s hand. He doubted he would let it go for the rest of the day.
The priest offered them all seats. “Lady Balfour, I need the names of your next of kin. The church needs to notify them about your husband’s death. Kin on his side of the family as well as on your side of the family.”
Cecilia responded by looking up into the priest’s eyes. “Father Jerry?”
The priest picked up her hand and swallowed it with both his hands.
“Lady Balfour, I’m Father Stevens. Father Jerry left the parish four years ago. I know you know this. Your family never missed mass.”
The priest breathed deep. He glanced at Edward and Penelope, and then his gaze turned back to Cecilia.
“Lady Balfour, can I get you tea? Would you like a few minutes to collect yourself?”
She looked at him, puzzled. “Whatever for?”
He turned to the children. “Lord Edward. Would you be able to supply me with the names and whereabouts of your kin?”
Edward squirmed in his seat. “I only know one. His name is Lord Avery Stanton. He is my mother’s brother. Uncle Avery.”
Father Stevens nodded. “Her brother. That’s good. A close relative. Do you remember any other kin?”
Edward shook his head. “No.”
“All right. I will write to your uncle. Do you know where he lives? Did you ever visit him?”
“No. He and my father weren’t close. My mother said it was too far to go for two people who don’t get along.”
The priest moved in his chair, closer to Edward. “I need to know where he lives. Do you know his profession? Does he have a wife and children? Think of everything you’ve been told.”
Edward looked back at his mother. She was staring, not having moved during this conversation.
“He’s of no profession. He’s some sort of Lord. He has a country estate – I don’t know where. He has a London townhouse. I think, but I’m not sure. My mother had a dowry.”
“Edward, you’ve helped quite a bit. I need to get my hands on a copy of Debrett’s Peerage, then I can locate him.”
“What is that?”
“It’s a book published every year that lists all the lords. Everyone in the House of Lords. In case you want to know how they will vote on an issue, or if they are single or where they live or which club they belong to.”
Penelope looked at Edward. “Can we go home?”
Without waiting for permission from the priest, Edward said yes and rose.
Father Stevens rose also. “I will notify you when I hear back from Avery Stanton. Take care of your mother. I’ll check in on you.”
Edward lifted his mother out of the chair, taking her hand and pulling it up. They walked home.
Edward put his mother in the parlour and made her tea. He allowed Penelope to bring in the tray and pour. He told Penelope to sit with her, but she was not to expect any talking from her. Their mother was in shock.
He checked every kitchen cabinet and the pantry to see how long the food would last. He searched for money. Did Father have a money jar? Did he keep it under the bed? He would search there now. He would search the rest of the house when his mother went to bed.
Edward was hungry. He would have to make dinner for the three of them. He checked the parlour.
He walked in to see a teacup on the table in front of his mother. “Anything?” he said to Penelope.
She shook her head, tears in her eyes. “I talked to her. I sang her favourite song. Nothing.”
Edward nodded. “Are you hungry?”
Penelope nodded.
“I’m going to make something; I don’t know what. And Mother won’t eat much, but maybe the smell of food will make her eat something.”
Penelope looked up at him. “Do you want me to help?”
“Have you ever cooked before?”
“No. Not really. Just watched.”
Edward shook his head. “We’re better off if I cook and you watch Mother.”
Edward went back to the kitchen and looked in the cauldron. Stew toward the bottom. He cut a carrot and put it in then stirred the mixture.
The heat was loosening the broth. It was a nice thick consistency the way Edward liked it. But they would need it for another day. He added water.
When it was ready, he put it in three bowls, making the third bowl less than the other two. If she ate at all, he would get more for her.
Penelope and Edward each took an arm and led her into the dining room. They sat her down between them. Edward and Penelope ate what they had then weren’t so hungry. Edward took her spoon and pressed a little through her lips, hoping the taste would wake up her senses. No luck.
They guided their mother upstairs to her bedchamber. It was the nicest in the area but was modest compared to the descriptions they heard of houses built on faraway estates. Still, Father did well enough in the shipping business.
Edward left his mother fully dressed in the middle of the bed. He built a fire then left Penelope to make their mother comfortable. She took off her mother’s short boots and stockings and put them all in front of the fire. She turned her mother sideways and undid the buttons from her neck to past her waist. Then she slipped off the dress and left her mother in her chemise. After covering her, she left the room.
“Should I sleep in there tonight? What if she wakes in the night?”
Edward’s shoulders sagged. “I’ll sleep there. She’s too heavy for you to carry.”
Penelope said, “I’ll sleep in bed with her and wake you from the settee if I need you.”
Edward agreed, and they both went to prepare for bed. When they came back, Penelope settled in with their mother, and he bro
ught a blanket to the settee. He swore Penelope grew up a year in a day. He hated her childhood slipping from her grasp. The second thing this week that would never be back.
Slowly, at a pace made for a snail, Cecilia returned. A cup of tea here, a brush of her hair there. Progress was slow but measurable. Edward was thrilled when she started to speak.
He had searched everywhere for money. There was no place he hadn’t looked. He needed his mother to tell him where it was.