The Secret Identity of the Lord's Aide: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Abigail Agar

  The Earl said, “Well, I must be off to talk to more of the guests. I do hope to talk to you ladies again.” He gave them both a deep bow before he swept away to the next knot of ladies.

  Penelope regarded the man’s retreat with amusement, but her amusement faded when she looked upon her mother’s dire face. Penelope swallowed and clasped her hands together in front of her. The Marchioness was eying her daughter as if deliberating some awful punishment to be delivered even in these brightly decorated halls.

  “What do you think you are doing?” Lady Winchester hissed in a low voice as she put her fan up in front of her face to hide her lips from those nearby.

  Penelope shifted uncomfortably, her blonde hair brushing the bare skin at her neck. “I do not know what you mean, Mother,” Penelope said as she often had as a young girl.

  Lady Winchester’s eyes narrowed at her only daughter. “You have been behaving most horribly,” the woman whispered.

  “I have not,” Penelope disputed as she smoothed her dress. It would not do to make a scene, and she certainly had no intention of drawing attention to them.

  Lady Winchester’s free hand clenched. “So you suddenly forgot everything you know in a single evening? You address the gentlemen improperly. You are too forward, or too shy. You bring up inappropriate things.” As Lady Winchester spoke, she seemed to be ticking off a list in her mind.

  Penelope sighed, “It is just nerves. I get all boggle-minded when someone asks me something, you know that.”

  “No,” Lady Winchester said with a shake of her head. “I believed that the first time, but I no longer hold that delusion. You are simply trying to make yourself unfit for marriage, and I cannot fathom as to why that would be.”

  Penelope unfurled her fan and brought it up to her face. “What is so wrong with not wanting to marry anyway?”

  “It simply is not done,” Lady Winchester insisted.

  Penelope blew air out her lips in a huff. “That is not true. Women have been made Baronesses in their own right. Why can I not also?”

  “Well, you are certainly strong-willed enough,” Lady Winchester said with distaste. “Do you forget that you are at a great disadvantage already?”

  Penelope grew silent. She knew that her mother was referring to the fact that Penelope had not been granted a voucher for Almack’s. Without it, she would not be eligible to attend the balls there, and that was where the most sought-after men and women would be.

  After a time, Penelope said, “That is not a blame to be laid at my feet. You act as if I went over and slapped the patronesses of the establishment personally.”

  “Of course I do not mean the fault lies with you, but it is still there,” Lady Winchester said as if to amend and soften her words.

  Penelope eyed her mother. The woman looked quite uncomfortable. Penelope had suspected that her family’s reputation or her father’s reputation perhaps had soured her chances of obtaining a voucher. It truly had not bothered Penelope, but she could see now how much it troubled her mother.

  “I am sorry to make you so sullen,” Penelope said in honesty. She reached over and touched her mother’s free hand with her own. The woman’s fingers folded around Penelope’s hand, and Penelope felt a tug on her heart. “I shall try to do better.”

  Lady Winchester gave her daughter a restrained smile. “I would be pleased if I believed that.”

  “You do not believe that I shall try and not make you sour at me?” Penelope asked, her hand still in her mother’s grasp.

  Lady Winchester eyed her daughter astutely. “This is not the first time you have set yourself forward in such a way, and I must assume that since you are doing so on purpose that it will continue. I do not, however, know why you would be doing such a thing.”

  “I told you,” Penelope reminded her mother.

  Lady Winchester sighed at her daughter. “You have to marry, Penelope. You have a duty to not only the family but to yourself.”

  “I will forgive myself,” Penelope assured her mother.

  Lady Winchester shook her head at her daughter. “You might. I doubt your father will indulge your whim in this instance.”

  “Must we talk about him,” Penelope said as she withdrew her hand from her mother’s grip.

  Lady Winchester sighed. “Why, of course, we shall talk about your father. What has gotten into you lately?”

  “Mother, are you truly happy with all of this?” Penelope asked as she turned her head back towards the woman.

  The Marchioness of Winchester was a beautiful woman, and many had told Penelope that she looked so much like her mother. Penelope did not see the resemblance between herself and her exquisite mother when she looked into the mirror.

  Lady Winchester said in a discreet tone, “Why would I not be happy to be presenting my lovely daughter to the world? Penelope, you can do so well for yourself.”

  There was an ache in her heart with her mother’s words. “Cannot I do well by myself? Why must I marry?”

  “Someone has to inherit the land and look after things once your father is gone,” Lady Winchester reminded her daughter.

  Penelope sighed. “And I as a woman cannot do those things.” Penelope finished the old sentiment. She had heard it enough to know it by heart.

  “And yet you persist in this childish game of yours,” Lady Winchester said in tones of disapproval. The woman lowered her voice as a tall man walked near them.

  Penelope’s eyes went to the man’s tailcoat and the dark ponytail of his hair that hung down the sombre blue of the coat’s material. Penelope shook her head “Other women have made their own path in this world. I can as well.”

  “And what of the lands and inheritance of the family?” Lady Winchester asked as she fanned herself lightly.

  Penelope noted the colour under her mother’s make-up. The woman was becoming quite vexed. Penelope said soothingly, “Perhaps we should take our leave before our sullen moods offend the host of this event.”

  Lady Winchester slapped her fan closed against the palm of her hand. “Very well,” Lady Winchester consented. She pressed her lips together and gave Penelope a stern look. “If I press you into staying, you might just offend someone beyond what I can repair.”

  “I would never,” Penelope said, but she could tell her mother was not listening. Penelope had chosen what she said carefully, despite what her mother might think. She knew well enough how to talk to these people, after all. It was one of the things her mother had impressed upon her so heavily.

  The murmur of voices around them made Penelope look around the room. The candles flickering gave the scene a surreality. There were knots of people here and there doing their best to entertain and bewitch each other. Beautiful ladies hid smiles behind fans as gentlemen hooked their thumbs in their overcoats and chuckled at the lovely picture the ladies before them made.

  How must it be to know that you can have whichever lady strikes your fancy? Penelope watched a tall man a few feet away who seemed to be sizing a potential group of ladies up in that way that men did. Penelope turned her face towards her mother again.

  Lady Winchester took in a breath as Penelope watched the woman calm herself. “Indeed, we should go before others catch wind of our disagreement and it just makes your social situation worse.”

  “I truly am sorry, Mother,” Penelope said. The very exasperation in the woman’s voice made Penelope feel as if she were once again six and failing to meet her exalted expectations.

  Lady Winchester waved off her daughter’s words with a subtle gesture of her wrist. “Let us not speak of this further. I shall go and find our host and explain our departure.”

  “What shall you say?” Penelope asked in curiosity.

  Lady Winchester said, “I will say simply that you are not feeling yourself. That should be suitably true.”

  ***

  Penelope shifted in her blue dress as she waited in the foyer of the home where the ball was taking place. The ruffles were not Penelope’s f
avourite, but her mother had insisted that Penelope looked quite enchanting in the ruffled fabric. Penelope’s fingers brushed over the ruffles that covered the lower half of her dress, and she sighed internally.

  Lady Winchester’s elegant form emerged from the ballroom and headed with purpose towards Penelope. Penelope drew herself up to her full height, which was still dwarfed by her mother’s 5’6” frame.

  A man intercepted Lady Winchester, and Penelope never saw a bit of frustration in her mother’s features. Lady Winchester dipped her head gracefully to the man whom she clearly knew.

  Whatever the two were saying was lost to Penelope, but then she was not that interested. Penelope could imagine for herself what bland platitudes the two must be saying. She let her eyes go to the bold fabrics that covered the walls.

  The walls of the old house held the images of cranes in flight through wispy woodlands. Penelope smiled at the whimsy of it. Surely someone with real imagination and life inside them had once lived in these halls if the wall coverings were any indication.

  “I see you are admiring my wife’s cranes,” a man’s rich voice said near Penelope, startling her. “I apologise for causing you a fright,” the man said.

  Penelope turned towards the man as she laughed lightly while her cheeks coloured at being caught so out of sorts. The gentleman’s hair was graying, and he had a softness to his face that Penelope took to immediately. “My own fault for being caught dreaming,” Penelope assured the man.

  His cheeks crinkled up as he smiled at her. “My wife would often daydream as well,” he said in a wistful tone that made Penelope ache inside.

  She hated to ask but felt compelled. “Where is your wife now?”

  “Oh, she is off on a very long daydream,” the man said. He paused for a moment. Penelope saw how he pulled himself inward, restraining his emotions.

  Penelope said softly, “I wish I could have met her. She decorated a lovely home.”

  “You are too kind,” the man said with another sad smile at Penelope. “Are you leaving the party so soon? A young lady like yourself should be dancing and winning some man’s heart.”

  Penelope looked down at her feet. “I am afraid that I am not feeling myself. It was a wonderful ball, Sir.”

  “I had nothing to do with it.” The older man waved off her compliment. “My son and his wife put these things on now. I just dawdle around in the library and nip a few drinks.”

  Penelope laughed and covered her mouth behind her gloved hand. She smiled at the man when she got her laughter under control. “That sounds like a better way to pass the time than dancing.”

  “Ah, so you dislike dancing?” he said with a grin as if he had caught her out in some sort of embarrassment.

  Penelope shook her head at the man and his amusement. “I like dancing well enough. I just like reading better.”

  “That is a wise thing,” he said. “Ah, here now, is this the Lady Winchester?” The man was no longer looking at Penelope, but his eyes instead had gone behind her.

  Penelope turned and saw her mother had freed herself of her previous companion. Lady Winchester walked up and put her hand out to the older gentleman that Penelope had been conversing with. “Lord Gregory, I did not know you were about.”

  “That is because I am not supposed to be,” Lord Gregory said with a twinkle in his eyes as he took Lady Winchester’s hand and gave it a gentle pat with his free hand. He gave Penelope a wink before he continued, “I was just conversing with this lovely young woman.”

  Lady Winchester smiled. “This is my daughter, Lady Penelope Withersfield.”

  “You did not tell me that your mother was Lady Winchester,” Lord Gregory said to Penelope. “Then again, we were talking of my Beatrice and reading. So, it was probably my flight of fancy that kept the discussion from coming up.”

  Penelope decided that she liked Lord Gregory very much. He was not like most other nobles who were stuffy and put far too much emphasis on how a person held her hand or if she used the right tone. No, Lord Gregory seemed to have more in his head than silly rules for a society mad with its own amusement.

  “Your daughter said that you two were leaving for the night,” Lord Gregory said in a tone that was almost sad.

  Lady Winchester inclined her head as she drew her hand back to fold gently over her other hand in front of her. “Yes, Penelope is feeling off, and I thought it better that she go home.”

  “Can never be too careful,” Lord Gregory said with a nod of his head. “Well, young lady,” he said turning towards Penelope. “I do hope that we shall see you more this Season. My son and his wife are due to hold another ball here later, and I would be thrilled if I could slate a dance for you then.”

  Penelope smiled and dipped her head ever so primly. “I would be honoured, Your Lordship.”

  “Very good,” Lord Gregory said as he patted his chest as if looking for something. “I must be off and see if I can locate my pipe. Good evening, Ladies.”

  Penelope and her mother replied, “Good evening, Your Lordship,” in unison. The man gave them a small wave before he wandered off down the hall.

  Penelope whispered, “He seems nice.”

  “Lord Gregory is a dear man,” Lady Winchester said softly. “I sent a maid after our shawls. It is still quite chilly after that storm today.”

  Almost as if summoned by Lady Winchester’s words, a maid who looked to be no more than fifteen came scurrying into the foyer. “Begging your pardons,” the young maid said. Her cheeks were quite pink, and Penelope was sure that wherever she had gone to fetch the shawls was quite a distance. The maid held out the shawls to Lady Winchester who took them with a smile.

  “Thank you very much,” Lady Winchester said kindly to the young maid who gave the noblewoman a curtsy before hurrying off to continue her duties.

  Penelope smiled at her mother as the woman held out Penelope’s shawl to her. Penelope took it and swiftly swept it around her shoulders. The air from the door opening when people arrived or departed had made the foyer rather chilly in its own right. Lady Winchester settled her shawl as well and said, “Well, let us find our coach now.”

  The doorman gave them a bow as he opened the door to allow them to leave. Penelope and Lady Winchester both dipped their heads and murmured their thanks. Lady Winchester let her fan dangle by the band around her wrist as she held her skirts up slightly to keep them out from under her shoes. Penelope followed her mother’s example.

  “The night might be chilly, but it is breathtaking,” Penelope said as she stared up at the stars. “Look how clear the sky is, Mother. I think you could probably see even the planets that are said to be out there somewhere. You might discover one just like Sir Herschel and be a famous astronomer.”

  Lady Winchester shook her head as she waved her hand at their coachman. “We are ready to depart,” she said to the man who quickly hurried away to get their coach for them.

  Penelope smiled and said, “I think if we discovered a planet we should name it after father. He would hate that.”

  “Do be quiet,” Lady Winchester said with a sigh. “You go on about the most preposterous things. I often ponder where you learn of such things. Is it that governess of yours?”

  Penelope’s smile broadened at her mother’s words. “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,

  Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

  Lady Winchester laughed. “Yes, I do think it is your governess’ doing.”

  Penelope sighed and looked up at the sky. Her governess was a lovely woman who spoke French and had quiet humour that Penelope enjoyed more than most. There was no pressing for applause, simply a smile upon the woman’s lips when she strove to lighten the mood of a room.