by Tamara Gill
All of Penelope’s fears evaporated as she saw the look on her grandfather’s face. He was grinning from ear to ear, his arms spread wide. He was the warm and friendly man she recalled from Mrs. Dankerson’s, only he was no longer just a polite stranger.
Penelope eagerly stepped down from the carriage and walked to her grandfather. She halted before him, suddenly unsure of how to greet him. His arms still wide, he exclaimed, “Welcome home! Finally! Welcome home!” as he pulled her to him and hugged her, as she imagined a father would hug his child, and she could not resist hugging him back tightly. He finally pulled away, with mist in his eyes, and gazed into her face.
“You ran away from your aunt!” he chided softly.
Penelope flushed, but she nodded.
“I did not know…”
Lord Asbury waved his hands dismissively.
“It matters not now. I am at fault. I had no idea… No. That is untrue. I did not want to believe…” He shook his head and smiled at Penelope. “I know that I have the Duke to thank for helping you leave my cold daughter’s care. I can only apologise to you, my dear, and hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me for not taking you in myself.”
Penelope felt her own eyes mist over.
“There is nothing to forgive. I am simply overwhelmed by these revelations!”
Lord Asbury nodded, “As is to be expected. As is to be expected. Well, let’s not dally here. Come! Come into the house and let’s rest a while and talk a bit. I have many questions, and I am sure you do as well.”
Penelope found herself led into the house, not even given the time to take it in, as her grandfather rushed her through the entrance hallway and through a series of rooms before nearly planting her on a chaise next to a roaring fire in a resplendent parlour.
Lord Asbury sat as well, pulling out a pipe, and the two sat in silence for a moment. Penelope took in her surroundings even though she was aware of her grandfather’s curious stare. After she relaxed, she smiled at Lord Asbury.
“This is a…” she started even as Lord Asbury also began.
“You look just…”
They both stopped and smiled at the other. Lord Asbury continued.
“You look just like your mother at that age. Do you know?”
Penelope shook her head. “No. I only very vaguely recall her.”
“A shame…” Lord Asbury puffed on his pipe. “Julia was the jewel of our family, and after her mother, my wife, passed, I came to rely on her a great deal. She loved this home, and the people. I had such high hopes…”
Penelope sighed.
“I know that she fell out of favour with you. I do not know why. Why does my Aunt hate her so?”
Lord Asbury stared at Penelope for a few minutes as he gathered his thoughts, trying to decide the best way to share the story of her past. He gazed at her sitting in the chair, so young and naïve, and as beautiful as his daughter had been. He cleared his throat and laid his pipe to the side, then took a deep breath and, after several minutes, leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“Penelope, your mother was a great joy for me. I had such great hopes for her. However, she had dreams of her own, and she decided to pursue them. She loved this home; she loved these people, but this was not where her heart was. I commissioned your father - he was a portrait painter - to come and paint our family -specifically, I wanted him to paint your mother and your aunt. I never dreamed that he would capture your mother's heart, but he did and, before I knew it, she had made a decision that we could not back away from. She was with child. I, being the stubborn man that I am, could not forgive her. I could not forgive him. The very sight of her, and the betrayal that I felt that she had committed, made me sick. And, yes, I banished her.”
Lord Asbury paused as he let the memories come back to him fully. He stared out of the window and watched the wind move the branches of the trees nearby. Then he turned back to Penelope.
“Your mother left without a fight.” He spread his hands wide, willing his granddaughter to understand what he had been thinking all of those years before. “I expected her to fight, but she knew better. She knew that I would not change. I suspect she feared that once you were born, I would hate you as much as she thought I hated her. Not long after she left, with her new husband, I got word that they had moved to Italy. There he had opened a small studio and gallery, where he worked on commissions and sold his own work. Just before you were born, he became ill and died. Your aunt went behind my back to help your mother come back to England. She helped your mother find a place to set up a gallery. Your mother did well for a time, taking in artist’s paintings and sculptures and selling them at a commission. However, as a widow and a young mother, running a gallery was not easy.”
Lord Asbury took a sip of his tea and looked at Penelope, her eyes wide with curiosity, clearly eager to learn more of her mother. His heart broke for her. How things might have been different for the sweet young lady if he had not been so cruel to her mother.
He cleared his throat and continued, “When the shop began to fail, your Aunt helped your mother cover expenses. Your aunt did everything that she could to help your mother - she even suggested, over and over, that your mother should come home, come back to live here, to start life over. Of course, your mother refused, and though I would not have admitted it at the time, I worried about her.
At some point, in trying to convince your mother to come home, your Aunt grew frustrated and bitter and caused a great deal of pain for your mother. A lot of harsh things were said and they had an intense falling out. Your Aunt vowed to help no more, and several months passed with no communication between the two. Then your mother got sick. We still do not know the details. Your aunt did not know when your mother passed away. Tragically, the only reason we found out was because of a neighbour who happened to know where your aunt lived and had the sense to send word.”
Lord Asbury wrung his hands in anxiety. Penelope could tell that the retelling of her past caused him a great deal of regret, but she continued to sit in silence, certain that he was not finished.
He continued, “The unexpected loss of your mother changed your Aunt. She can never forgive herself, or your mother, for that matter. Nor can she forget and, sadly, that made her bitter towards you too. To this day, I do not know why she opted to take you under her care rather than bring you here, or to any of our other relations. I cannot forgive your aunt for the harsh life she put you through, and she knows this. That said, now that you are here, I sincerely hope that eventually you can put this period behind you, and forgive your aunt and I. I hope that there will be reconciliation for our family. I hope... I hope that you cannot just call me family but will truly come to think of me as family. I also hope that you will come to find that this home is your home, and that you will be welcome here for as long as you wish to stay.”
Penelope struggled to contain all of the emotion she was feeling. She looked at her grandfather's face. She knew that he was a kind man; she could not imagine that he had ever been the kind of man who would have caused her mother to run away or the kind of man who would have caused her mother to feel stifled or unwanted. She bit her lip as she looked at her grandfather, and then she reached out and took his hand in her own. She squeezed it gently. She had no words, for she did not know how to express the deep feelings she was experiencing, but she hoped that her gentle touch would bring him some comfort and let him know that even though she had no idea what her future held for her, she was willing to try.
At that moment, the door opened and a servant entered, pushing a small cart laden with tea and biscuits. The servant served both of them quickly, then left the room without a word. Lord Asbury and Penelope ate in comfortable, if not sad silence, both simply content to be in the company of the other.
Finally, her grandfather stood up.
“Come, my dear, let's get you settled. I will show you to your room. I know that you are probably exhausted from your travels, and now the knowle
dge of your mother and father must be a heavy revelation as well. I had intended to wait a day or two before delving into the past with you, yet here we are – we have begun the discussion now. Still, please rest. I have assigned a maid to see to your comfort. Do not hesitate to ask her if you have any questions. Otherwise, she will come for you to help you dress for dinner. Mrs. Thompson has been given a room not far from yours – we will retain her services as a companion, for now. We are still more formal with mealtimes here so we still eat in the grand dining room. I do hope you will join me this evening, though if not, I understand. Just let the maid know, and she can bring food up to your room.”
Lord Asbury ushered Penelope out of the study and back to the front entrance, where the staircase wound up to the higher floors. He led the way, pointing out portraits and tapestries from his family and from his collection, along the way. He moved down a hall that led into the eastern wing and opened a door to a sizable room with a canopied bed and lavish furnishing. A warm fire crackled in the fireplace, and a maid was busy unpacking Penelope’s trunk.
Lord Asbury stopped outside the doorway and turned to Penelope with a twinkle in his eye.
“Again, I have to tell you how grateful I am that the young Duke helped you get away from your Aunt, though she is still quite bitter over the whole thing. I am glad that he gave you a safe place to stay until I could bring you here. At some point, I hope that you will find the courage to ask the questions that I see still linger in your eyes. And I hope that you will find a way to forgive me for waiting so long to bring you home.”
That first night that Penelope spent in her grandfather’s home, she felt uneasy and restless. She did join him for dinner, but the mood was a mix of confusing emotions from both the old man and the young lady, and so they ate mostly in silence. Then, when she retired to her room, she found it exceedingly difficult to find sleep. Her mind had much to understand about her past… and her future.
However, the next morning and the days that followed quickly turned into a week, and a week turned into two weeks, and she found herself finally at ease with her grandfather and his household. She was drawn to the countryside and the people who lived nearby. She found the people similar to the ones in Derhamshire, and a fondness developed quickly for the simple folk. She got to know the Parson and his son even better, and quite often found herself in the company of young James. Together, they would go from house to house getting to know the neighbours, many of whom had been there for generations. Many of them knew the stories of a time before the current Earl. With each new family that she met, Penelope felt even more as though she were finally home.
Even so, as the days turn into weeks, she found herself wondering and waiting for any word from, or about, the Duke. She had not received any letters from him, and she hesitated to send a letter of her own. However, finally, at the end of her third week with Lord Asbury, she decided to sit down and pen a letter to the house in London, addressing it to Jenkins. She could not help asking him how everything was within the household in her absence. A part of her knew it was silly, but she wondered if her short stay had given the household a chance to appreciate her and wish for her to return. She also could not help asking if there had been word from the Duke. She sent the letter by post and waited anxiously for a reply.
Several days later, she got a short reply from Jenkins. He asked her if she was going to return to the London home. He expressed his desire to have her help him with the house because Abigail and her new husband had moved in unannounced and unbeknownst to the Duke. Jenkins had not heard from the Duke either, even after his own inquiries. No word raised a great deal of alarm in his mind.
The letter from Jenkins put Penelope in a difficult position. She wanted to return to London because she wanted to fulfill the duties which she had originally been hired to do. She wished to do so, even though she was now the granddaughter of the Earl, and she knew that she could not hold the position of housekeeper without raising questions or potentially bringing shame to her family. She could not shake the fact that she had committed to responsibilities, even if it meant that she needed to hire a replacement for her position. She felt that it was her duty but more than that, at the back of her mind the thought also lingered that while she was in London, she could perhaps help find out what happened with the Duke. Working with Jenkins, maybe together they could find out if the Duke had made it safely to Belgium or if something had happened along the way.
She waited for a full day, going back and forth in her mind about how to best speak to Lord Asbury. Before she approached her grandfather, she went over what she should say. She feared that, no matter how she shared her desire to return to London, he would think that she was running away as her mother had done. Still, she could not resist the pull to London. She found him sitting in the garden, enjoying his pipe. She sat down with him, and for several minutes they discussed the flowers, the birds, and the various animals that made their home in the garden throughout the year.
Penelope loved the garden. During her stay, she had learned that, while her grandfather employed several gardeners, the main garden he preferred to tend to himself. He knew every flower, bush, and tree, and recalled when he had planted each one. Penelope gazed longingly about the garden, which she found to be such a peaceful place, and part of her longed to spend the rest of her days in the garden tending it beside her grandfather. A part of her was certain that, ultimately, she would, for she would never play a part in society, despite her current station, and that would make it hard for her to find any suitors. Another part of her kept tugging at her, and she knew it had to do with her concern and ill-advised feelings for the Duke. Lord Asbury noticed her distraction.
“Something is on your mind, my dear. I can tell. You can tell me what it is.”
Penelope sighed deeply, and she took her grandfather's hand in her own as she looked into his face pleadingly.
“Grandfather, I must go. I must return to London for a time. I left behind responsibilities that I need to see fulfilled.”
Lord Asbury felt his heart skip a beat, but he looked deeply into Penelope’s face. He saw real concern in her eyes.
“But, of course, my dear, but that can't be all. Seeing your duties fulfilled and seeing to it that someone capable takes your place in the Duke’s household cannot be what is causing the concern in your eyes. I can feel it in you; there is a tension. You are troubled. Tell me, what are you really concerned about?”
Penelope squeezed her grandfather's hand gently. He saw so much, and she was grateful for his insight, but she still found it hard to share what was truly on her mind. She had no business caring for the Duke. He had never been anything but kind to her. Even before he had offered to help her get away from her Aunt, when he should by rights have taken her back, even before he had offered her a position which made no sense at all, she had been drawn to him, and she could not explain her feelings. She looked deeply into her grandfather's kind eyes.
“Grandfather, I feel rather foolish. I cannot explain it except that I care for the Duke deeply. I know that he does not, he could not, return my feelings. Even if he did, nothing could come of it.” She paused.
“Go on, child.”
“No one has heard from him since he left to join Wellesley in Belgium. He was supposed to be going to fight against Napoleon. He was supposed to write to me, and he asked me to keep in touch, to keep him aware of how my visit went here and how things were at the London house,” she paused, realising that she was breathless with worry. She took a deep breath and stilled her nerves. “I need to see if I can help Jenkins find out what became of the Duke. Maybe he never reached Belgium. Maybe he's back here. Maybe something happened. I don't know; I just know that I have to find out - that I won't be content until I know for certain.”
Lord Asbury stared deeply into Penelope’s eyes. He could not imagine his house without her now. In the three short weeks that she had been with him, she had become family, part of the household. The servants, from
his butler, to his cook, to the gardener, and even all of the people in the surrounding community - they all looked at her and treated her with kindness and respect, and in some cases, even love. In so many ways, she reminded him of her mother. He was loath to let her go, but he knew that if she was anything like her mother, nothing would keep her, and he did not want to make the same mistake again and jeopardise his budding relationship with her.
“Very well, my girl. I will help make arrangements to return you to London, but please do not be away from me for too long. I don't think my old heart can bear it. You have become such an important part of this household in such a short time. I hope that you know that, and I hope that you understand how deeply I care for you.”
Penelope instinctively leaned toward him and hugged her grandfather. Laughing and smiling, her worries suddenly held at bay, she jumped up, after giving him a quick peck on the cheek, and rushed out of the garden and into the house, eager to begin the preparations that would take her back to London.
Chapter Seven
Three days later, Penelope stood in the kitchen with Jenkins in the London house. She slowly pulled off her gloves and unpinned her hat, setting them carefully on the rough wooden table. Jenkins set her single bag on the floor, noting that it was not heavy, and indicated that Miss Jameson had no intention of remaining for long. Penelope saw the concern in his eyes and she pulled out a chair to sit down.
“Is Lady Abigail at home?” she asked quietly.
“No. She is rarely home during the day. She enjoys shopping with her friends.”
“Is her husband, Lord James… is he at home?”
Jenkins nodded solemnly.
“Aye. He is likely still to bed. He did not arrive until late last night, and the pair of them…” He sighed deeply. “Her father would be so disappointed in her choice.”
