by Tamara Gill
He stepped forward.
“Your Grace, how may I help?”
The Duke stared down at the boy who sat in silence. Then he looked at Penelope before addressing Jenkins.
“Miss Jameson, please see that this young man gets a warm breakfast and a couple of shillings before we send him on his way.”
Penelope sucked in a deep breath, with a sideways glance at Jenkins - she knew that she was being dismissed. She stepped forward to the boy and reached out a hand.
“Come along, Charles. I will take you down to the kitchen. No doubt Cook has some pastries for you.”
The boy stood up and bowed to the Duke. Then he took Penelope’s hand and the two left the room. As soon as they left, the Duke nodded at Jenkins. He moved to the door and shut it firmly, then he turned back and took the seat young Charles had been in.
“Your Grace…”
“Oh, forget the formalities, Jenkins.” The Duke huffed as he moved to the chair opposite his butler. “You are like family to me. We have some things to discuss. Before I get called away, I will need to get some things settled for Lady Abigail.”
He grabbed a letter from the edge of his desk and handed it to Jenkins. Jenkins read it, his eyes growing wide, and then he handed the letter back.
“As you can see, this news of greater activity in the war comes at a rather bad time.”
“Doesn’t it always?” Jenkins countered.
The Duke leaned back and closed his eyes.
“I have no idea how to handle this news of Abi eloping, and marrying immediately by special license. I do not even know who this young man is!”
“Your sister has always been impetuous, Nat. I am surprised that this has not happened years ago.”
“While Father was still alive?” Nat grimaced. “She knew better. He would have disowned her.”
“Will you?” Jenkins asked quietly.
Nat stared at the letter.
“I need to discuss this with my solicitor. She has her inheritance, which she just came into. I wonder if her new husband knew something of this? I need to see what it takes for an annulment, if she would even consider it.” He threw the letter back onto his desk and frowned. “I doubt that I will be able to see anything through to see that she is protected. I have no idea of how quickly the commanders will need me to leave.”
Jenkins leaned forward.
“One thing at a time, Nat. Focus on getting the household in order. Your Miss Jameson has just arrived. She has already gained respect from the rest of the staff because she clearly is not afraid to work alongside them, but there is much she does not know about how we work.”
“Yes… Miss Jameson…”
“...is in love with you, Nat,” Nat stopped and stared at Jenkins, who went on, “of course, you know that.”
“Jenkins…”
“Nat, it is none of my business most of the time. However, you hired her to be our Housekeeper, and to manage your household affairs when you are not in this house. You place your trust in her despite her age and lack of references.”
Nat raised his hand at Jenkins.
“I know that it is out of the ordinary, Jenkins. I would tell you my reasons, but I have not confirmed any of my suspicions yet. I will tell you this. That woman was living in a hell she did not deserve, and somehow, despite all of the cruelty and, I am certain, abuse as well, she is not spoiled. She is charming and innocent.”
“But her feelings for you, Nat…”
“Are not a thing I can control, Jenkins.”
Jenkins heard the steel in Nat’s voice, but he saw something in the younger man’s eyes that caused him to wonder. At that moment, he realised that his master had some amount of affection for Miss Jameson, though perhaps he was unaware of it.
Jenkins dropped the subject and moved back to the most pressing issue.
“How can I help you get ready to leave?”
Nat sighed deeply again and leaned toward Jenkins, beginning to give him a list of items which he needed.
Chapter Four
Penelope stood at the door to the dining room and watched the men linger in the foyer as they waited for the Duke to come down to greet them. She had been surprised by the calibre of men the Duke had invited for dinner. Most of them were men from Parliament. Some were men of the military, all in uniform. Many of the men had arrived with their wives. Unexpectedly, the last arrival had been none other than Lady Abigail, on the arm of a dashing young man who Lady Abigail introduced as her husband, Lord James Norbury, second son of the Marquess of Walton. Penelope took an immediate dislike to the man, despite his charm and good looks.
Lady Abigail, of course, treated Penelope as though she were a footman or maid, demanding that she announce her to the rest of the guests. Jenkins overheard the exchange as he was assisting another guest with his coat. He rushed over to greet Lady Abigail himself and led her and her husband to the far side of the room.
As Penelope continued to watch, confident that the dining room was ready, and the kitchen staff eager to place the food, a sudden hush fell over the guests. She followed their stare to the second story landing where the Duke stood at the rail. Without realising it, Penelope pressed a hand to her chest, willing her heart to slow and quiet.
The Duke stood tall and proud. He smiled as he looked down at his guests, making a point not to look at Penelope directly, but noting out of the corner of his eye that she had gone pale and looked to be holding the wall for support. Inwardly, he wanted to rush to her, worried about her, but he knew that he could not.
Penelope watched him descend the stairs, his eyes never even glancing at her. He made a point of looking only at his guests. Then his eyes fell on his sister, where she stood next to Jenkins, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. Penelope saw the twitch and saw the amusement on Lady Abigail’s face as she forced her way through the guests with her husband firmly in tow.
“Oh Nat! It is so good to see you so soon! I can’t believe that you just left Derhamshire three days ago! It seems an entire lifetime has passed in just these three days!”
Nat smiled affectionately down at Lady Abigail.
“So it seems. I got your letter, Abi. This must be your new husband?”
Lord James stepped forward and bowed his head.
“I am he, Your Grace. I fear I owe you an explanation…”
“Later, if you will, Lord James.” Nat’s eyes flashed a warning at both Lord James and Lady Abigail, which Lady Abigail picked up on right away.
“Certainly, brother.”
She took Lord James by the arm and led him away, a look of confusion on the man’s face.
Nat turned and caught Penelope staring at him. He nodded at her, signaling his intent to call his guests to dinner.
He spread out his arms and raised his voice.
“My fine friends, family, and colleagues! I apologise for my own tardiness, so I won’t keep your stomachs in suspense. Let us dine first, then we can all linger and enjoy each other’s company afterward.”
He turned to the dining room doorway. Penelope stood to the other side and after the Duke had welcomed each guest, she directed them to their seats. Finally, he went to his own seat at the head of the table. Still standing, he raised his glass and toasted the evening, signaling to the rest of the staff that dinner should be served.
After dinner, the women moved to the parlour where Lady Abigail took her seat at the pianoforte and began to play, while the men moved across from the dining room into the study, where they sipped on brandy and talked of politics and war.
One man approached Nat.
“Your Grace, rumour has it that you will soon be joining Wellesley in Belgium.”
Nat turned to the man and nodded.
“I expect to get word within a day or so. I have heard nothing certain yet, but I am prepared for a quick summons. The sooner I get there the better.”
“Could you not just predict the summons and leave straightaway?”
Nat smiled. Politici
ans tended to understand so little of warfare and military workings.
“Yes. I suppose I could. However, what a waste of expense to go if I am not needed.”
The man nodded. He understood money.
“I see your point, Your Grace.”
As the man moved away, Nat noted that his new brother-in-law was seated at a table in the corner, with three of the officers. It appeared that they were starting a game of Faro. Nat moved closer to the table to observe, and Lord James saw him approach.
“Ah, my new brother! Would you like to lay a bet?”
Nat grimaced. He tried to read the younger man, but the man’s face, while outwardly jovial and kindly, gave no true read regarding his intentions.
Nat shook his head.
“No. I rarely gamble anymore. I will simply observe your skill.”
Lord James nodded in response and returned his focus to the game. While Nat observed, a touch at his elbow drew his attention to one of his oldest friends.
“Courtney! How are you, my friend!” Nat turned and greeted his friend.
“Doing quite well, my friend. This talk of going to support Wellesley has my blood burning to go. Waiting for a summons does seem rather a waste of time.”
Nat nodded, his eyes still on the card game.
“I know. Still, I don’t know about you, but there is a great deal to be done here before I can leave.”
Lord Courtney Oswalt, nearly as tall as Nat, but thinner all around, with nearly black hair, and dark eyes to match, nodded.
“I leave all that to Lucius and Father. You should have had an older brother, Nat. Then he could worry about all of these responsibilities.”
Nat laughed with Lord Courtney.
“Yes. It must be nice to have no worries of your own yet.” Nat paused for a moment. “Tell me, whatever became of that beautiful young woman you were seen with around London a few weeks ago.”
Lord Courtney smiled over his glass of brandy.
“Ah. You heard about her. Miss Ellsworth. Quite a charming young heiress, actually.”
Nat leaned toward his friend.
“An heiress. And beautiful, I heard. And yet, you have nothing more to say about her than that she is charming?”
“Mmmm… yes. It appears I was outwitted by a German Duke or something. I forget his exact title. No matter. It was a fun little interlude while it lasted. But what about you? I have not heard of any new escapades from you in quite a while.” Lord Courtney leaned in and whispered, “Though, now that I have seen your exquisite new housekeeper, I begin to understand why. Who is she? And where did you find her?”
Nat bristled at the insinuation that Miss Jameson was his new lover, though he was not certain why. She certainly was beautiful, and the effect he clearly had on her made it likely that she would be a willing partner if he chose to pursue her, and yet… he did not know why, but he could not.
“Miss Jameson. Yes. she is quite beautiful. But I have to correct you, my friend. She is only my housekeeper. Nothing more.”
“What? Are you mad? How can you help yourself? She is…”
Nat interrupted, more harshly than he had intended, “A woman who was in need, and I stepped in to help her. Nothing more.”
Unable to say more or explain his outburst, Nat moved hastily away from Lord Courtney, seeing a colleague he hoped to invest with, he feigned excitement as he greeted the man, though at the back of his mind he could not get Miss Jameson out of his thoughts.
***
The following day, Nat summoned Miss Jameson to the study. All of the guests who had stayed after the night before had already gone on their way, after a hearty breakfast. The house was quiet again. Nat had hoped to spend his energy on preparing for the days ahead alongside Wellesley. Those hopes were put on hold when Jenkins announced a visitor just before noon.
The man shown in had been sent by his man of business, to report on the investigation that Nat had asked him to do. The documents presented to Nat caused him some satisfaction by proving some of his suspicions, but also raised a deep sense of alarm in him that he could not fathom. Once the man left, he sat for a long time perusing the documents and letters, a key to Miss Jameson’s past, and he could not help but wonder if she knew any of her own history at all. It seemed that her absence from Lady Dankerson’s home had been noted, by someone significant.
When Penelope entered the study, she found him leaning back in his chair with several papers hanging limply in one hand as he stared off into the distance.
“Your Grace?” she ventured, standing just inside the doorway.
Nat’s eyes flew to Penelope. He stared at her for a moment, taking in her serviceable grey dress, the understated neat knot of her hair, the youth shining in her face and the question in her eyes.
He waved her into the room.
“Please, be seated, Miss Jameson.”
Penelope moved to a chair and sat. There was a grave demeanour to the set of the Duke’s jaw. She noted the tension in his neck and shoulders as he glanced down at the papers, started to speak, then paused. He looked at her, a quizzical look in his gaze.
“Tell me, truthfully. What do you know of your past?”
Penelope thought of all of the duties she had to perform, and she wrung her hands in sudden worry. She could not begin to imagine the reason for the Duke’s interest in her sad story.
She met his gaze and shrugged a little.
“I, honestly, do not recall much, Your Grace. Most of my memories revolve around Lady Dankerson. I very vaguely remember my mother. I know that she was beautiful. I remember that she was very sad. Then I remember my first day at Lady Dankerson’s. I remember the first time that she told me that I should be grateful after what my mother had done…”
Nat interrupted.
“What did your mother do?”
Penelope lowered her eyes.
“I do not know. Lady Dankerson never elaborated, but it must have been very bad. Your Grace, she hated me so and, I think, she hated my mother as well.”
Nat nodded.
“Lady Dankerson never hinted to you about your family? Never spoke to you of other living relations?”
Penelope’s eyes grew wide.
“No, Your Grace. As far as I am aware, I am an orphan.”
Nat smiled at Penelope.
“Did you never question why Lady Dankerson would have taken you in, if you truly were just an orphan? Or why she put you in a position that left you in charge of a great deal more than what any other orphan would have been trusted with, even whilst treating you cruelly?”
Confusion ran across Penelope’s face.
“I don’t know what you mean. She was horrible and cruel…”
“And she is your aunt.”
Nat paused for a moment as the words settled over Penelope. Her eyes went wide, and the colour drained from her face.
“...my aunt…” she whispered in reply.
The Duke looked at the papers now on his desk and nodded.
“I have just had a visit from my man of business, who has been contacted by a solicitor, who represents Nicholas Wallace, the Earl of Asbury, father of one son and two daughters. The son, Lord Richard Wallace, passed away in childhood. The oldest daughter, Lady Julia, married, against her father’s wishes, an artist who was the second son of the Baron of Shelton. The youngest daughter, Lady Madeline, married an impoverished Viscount – Edward Marston, Lord Dankerson. It appears that Lord Asbury is looking for his grandchild, who was supposed to be in the care of his surviving daughter, Lady Dankerson.”
Penelope, now white as a sheet, gripped the arms of the chair.
“Lord Asbury is my grandfather?”
She bit her lip as tears threatened to spill over. She felt the Duke’s gaze on her, and she forced herself to take a deep breath and still her nerves.
“So, you have met Lord Asbury?”
Penelope nodded.
“Yes, Your Grace. He visited Lady Dankerson at least once a year.”
<
br /> “How did he treat you? Did he ever give any indication that you were family?”
Penelope smiled as memories of his visits came to mind. Lady Dankerson had always made sure that she was clean, and wearing her best dress, when he visited. He had always been kind to her. It had puzzled her, that he would seek her out to speak to, when he was so far above her in status. She remembered how often Lady Dankerson grew cross with him, barely waiting until she was out of the room to reproach him for treating her better than she was. She had never heard if he replied, but he had never stopped smiling warmly at her, or drawing her into conversation.
“He was kind to me, Your Grace, but he never indicated that he was any relation to me.”
The Duke sighed.
“I do not understand why you would have gone to your Aunt, and why she would be so cruel to you, but be that as it may, I have correspondence here stating that Lord Asbury is interested in your whereabouts. His solicitor claims that Lord Asbury is in failing health, and is seeking to make amends with you, his grandchild.”
Penelope looked down at her hands.
“Amends for what? Why? To what end?”
Nat stood up and moved around his desk. He reached down and, gently cupping Penelope’s chin, lifted her face so that he could meet her gaze.
“Nothing that the solicitor brought to me explains why. However, a great deal of money was sent, to help with travel expenses, so that you may ask him yourself. And the solicitor has said that he has been authorised to hire a companion and a footman, that you might be escorted and travel safely.”
Penelope trembled at the Duke’s touch, the scent of him nearly overwhelming her senses. She blinked and leaned back in her chair, pulling her chin out of his hand. She stared hard at the top of his shirt, trying to focus on this new revelation of her life. She had a family! Maybe she could discover what had become of her mother and father. Maybe she could learn why Lady Dankerson hated her so much. Maybe she could find out why her grandfather had never told her, and why he’d left her with her cruel aunt.
