by Tamara Gill
He forced himself to focus on the task at hand, and he sat back and waited.
A few hours later, having played several hands of cards, he found himself cutting even. He was not a stranger to gambling, but he had never gambled in one of these brothel type gambling houses. He knew how to bluff his hands, and he knew how to manipulate the other players, but because he was not there to truly play, he was careful to win some and lose more. All the while, he kept an eye on Lord James’ table. He noted that Norbury lost hand after hand, his pile of bills growing ever smaller until he threw back his chair in disgust and called for the owner.
The red-faced man rushed to him, exceedingly nervous.
“Yes, Your Grace?” he asked Lord James, following his orders from the police to continue to address Norbury as the Duke he had portrayed himself to be.
“I am out of funds. Give me all you can, I am determined to win them back.”
The owner nodded and reached into a pocket on his apron. He pulled out a wad of bills and handed them to Lord James who sat down without any further discussion and rejoined the game.
Less than an hour later, drunk from nearly an entire bottle of rum, Lord James nearly fell out of his chair in a sudden fit of rage.
“I need more! Where is that scoundrel? Tell him I need more money!”
The owner raced to his side. “There is no more for tonight, Your Grace. As it is you owe me fifty pounds for tonight.”
Lord James glanced at his friends. He threw up his hands in the air. “Very well! Lads, the night is done. Let us go.”
He moved to leave, but the owner clung to his arm. “I need a promise of payment, your Grace.”
Lord James glanced at the man. “Fine. Get it quickly, and I will sign it.”
The owner disappeared for a moment then handed Lord James a slip of paper and opened a ledger for him to sign in.
Lord James tucked the bill into his pocket and leaned to sign the ledger. As he pulled away, the owner looked at the ledger and at the police officers.
He read, “Promise of payment for fifty pounds on this date owed by Nathaniel Dellwood, Duke of Derhamshire.”
He looked at Lord James. “This is your signature, Your Grace?”
Lord James grew irritated, not seeing the men coming up behind him, nor noting that the Duke himself was standing at his side.
Lord James said through clenched teeth, “Of course, it is, you fool!”
Nat leaned forward and looked at the signature, forcing Lord James to look at him sideways,” Actually, that is not my signature at all. And this man is not Nathaniel Dellwood, Duke of Derhamshire, for I am.”
Lord James realised that he was staring at Nathaniel, and his face went pale with shock. He lost his balance, but the officers were quick to catch him. Nat stared at Lord James as the officers deftly put his hands in metal braces.
“You thought that you would get away with using my name and my estate to fund your vile lifestyle?”
Lord James recovered and sneered at the Duke. “I was getting away with it. How did you find out?”
Nat sneered back. “That is of no concern to you. However, your future is of your concern. Shall we discuss that?”
He nodded to the officers who led Lord James out of the room and down to a waiting carriage. Nat turned to the others in the room. He wished to say a great many things to the men present, but he could not muster the words. Instead, he spit on the floor and left the room.
Chapter Fourteen
“She is here!” Augusta called out excitedly.
Violet rose from the sofa and followed her sister into the foyer. Both were eager to see Penelope, even though they were still sworn to secrecy. They watched the door swing inward and Penelope stepped through, followed by the footman with a single trunk.
Augusta reached her first and hugged her friend warmly, while Violet simply took her hand and squeezed it gently.
The three moved into the parlour where Penelope removed her hat, gloves, and light coat. She sat down and exhaled.
“Was it a hard journey?” Violet asked, noting that Penelope looked rather tired.
Penelope smiled, “Oh no. The journey was fine. I just did not sleep well. I was excited about coming…”
“...to see your Duke.” finished Augusta with a merry giggle.
Penelope blushed, but could not deny her friend’s statement. Violet changed the subject and Augusta called for fresh tea. The three sat in pleasant silence for a few moments.
Penelope cleared her throat. “I wonder if either of you know…”
“Know what?” asked Violet.
“I heard a rumour that the Duke’s sister, Lady Abigail, returned to Derhamshire within the previous week.”
Augusta nodded. “She did.”
Penelope waited for Augusta to expand, but when she did not, Penelope continued. “That seems rather strange, though.”
“Strange?” asked Augusta. “Isn’t Derhamshire her home?”
Penelope smiled, “Well, perhaps – but now that she is married, surely one would expect her to live somewhere else, with her husband – and yet I heard that she returned alone. Lord James was not with her.”
Violet and Augusta exchanged glances. Violet shrugged it off. “I suspect he must have had business to attend to still.”
Augusta nodded and agreed. Then she asked Penelope, “Why your curiosity?”
Penelope replied, “Oh, I don’t know. It just seems strange. Lady Abigail hated Derhamshire. She loved London. Her life here was so much more exciting. I cannot see her leaving here without a very good or pressing reason.”
Augusta nodded. “You may be right, but Father has not mentioned anything about it, except that we heard the rumours as well, and he did verify that she has left London.”
“Hmmm…” Penelope leaned back.
Violet stood up, suddenly excited, which drew Penelope’s immediate attention.
Violet spun to face Penelope with a letter in her hand.
“We nearly forgot, didn’t we, Augusta.”
Augusta looked up and saw the letter. Her face lit up. “Oh yes! We nearly did! How could we?”
Penelope laughed at the sisters with their nearly giddy expressions.
“What are you two talking about?”
Violet sat down next to Penelope and waved the letter around.
“We have been invited to a Masquerade! Father got the invitation just this morning!”
Penelope smiled. “How exciting! You are both going to have so much fun!”
Violet beamed at her friend. “We have already asked, and received word in return - the granddaughter of Lord Asbury is most welcome as well!”
Penelope gasped. “You can’t mean it! I have never been to anything like that before in my life!”
Augusta sat on the floor in front of Penelope and smiled up at her. “All the more delightful! You will have so much fun!” She glanced at Violet and they smiled. “Who knows, Penelope, you might find your husband!”
Penelope flushed. “When is this grand event?”
Violet stood up and glanced at the clock on the mantle. “Oh my! It is this evening, and we need to begin getting ready!” Without letting Penelope protest, she took Penelope’s hands and pulled her up. “Come along. We have a lot to do.”
“But I do not… I don’t have…”
Augusta followed her sister and Penelope up the stairs calling after Penelope, “Don’t you worry, we have everything you need!”
***
She stood between Violet and Augusta at the top of the stairs and looked down at the assemblage below.
“I can’t do this,” she nearly whispered.
Violet leaned toward her and took her hand and held it tightly. “You can. And you will have a night that you will never forget!”
Augusta, who was nearly bouncing on the other side of Penelope, murmured, “I cannot tell who anyone is.”
Violet rolled her eyes behind her mask. “That is the point, silly!”
She led the way down the stairs. Penelope followed, aware of the fact that several faces were turned in their direction. She was suddenly self-conscious. The gown that she wore was of the most beautiful blue she had ever seen. Augusta had told her that they purchased it for Violet, but now it was too small and they hadn’t had the heart to give it away. They had helped her to dress, and had loaned her some dazzling earrings, a beautiful choker style necklace, and an elaborate headpiece that looked like a crown. For her face, they had furnished her with a mask that tied behind her head with a thick blue ribbon. It was a deep blue velvet that matched her dress, and had ribbons flowing down from one side, and a gathering of tall peacock feathers shooting up from the other side. When she had seen it, it had taken her breath away, and she had feared that it would be too heavy. But once Augusta had tied it securely, it fit like a glove, so that she forgot she was wearing it. Now, she felt as though she were on display, and even knowing that the upper half of her face was covered, she felt naked on the staircase.
Violet, still holding her hand, whispered above the music, “You are shaking, my dear. Come. Let’s get you a drink to still your nerves.”
At the bottom of the stairs, Penelope let Violet lead her through the crowd, but then Violet let go. Penelope, who had been following blindly, her eyes roaming all about her, taking in the extravagant gowns, the skilfully tailored suits, and the whimsical masks of the other guests, spun around and tried to find Violet, but could not see her among the guests. Rather than call out for her and display her anxiety, Penelope moved through the crowd to the edge of the room. Looking around, saw the open doors to the dining room, and moved in that direction, but stopped suddenly when a tall masked figure blocked her path.
“Pardon me,” the gentleman addressed her, and Penelope nearly swooned. She knew that voice. She met the eyes behind the mask and she smiled broadly. She wanted to throw herself into his arms, but she willed herself to remain calm. Did he know it was she?
“No,” she replied and bowed her head a little, “excuse me. I am hoping to find the friends I came with.”
The man smiled down at her. “Maybe I can help?”
Penelope, trying hard to keep the tremor out of her voice, nodded, “If you wish.”
He stretched out a hand and she placed hers in it. Then he turned to face the crowd. “Now. Which way do you think they went?”
Penelope pointed to the open doors. “I believe we were supposed to meet over there.”
“Ah, near the food!” he chuckled, and her blood grew warm. “Wise choice.”
Penelope laughed and allowed him to lead her through the mass of people. Suddenly, though, he stopped.
“Do you hear that?” he leaned down and whispered in her ear.
She paused. “The music?”
His eyes, level with her own, danced with mirth. “Yes. May I have this dance? And then I will lead you to your friends?”
Penelope could think of nothing that she would love more than to be in his arms, so she nodded silently. He led her to the dance floor and pulled her close to him. She barely remembered the steps to the dance, for she had only learned by watching others when at Lady Dankerson’s. They started the dance close together, then they moved apart and twirled around other dancers, then down a line, then back together. Her eyes never left his, his never left hers. At the end of the set, they were back together, his hands holding hers to his chest. She could feel his heart pounding and she realised that his hurried heartbeat matched her own. Her smile widened in delight as he smiled down at her.
In her mind, she struggled with the thought that he did not know who he was dancing with. He was delighted by the gown and the mask, nothing more. The thought brought a frown to her face, and the light dimmed in her eyes. He saw it immediately. He leaned forward, his breath on her cheek and ear like a gentle caress.
“Something troubles you?”
Penelope shook her head. “No. Not at all.” She forced a smile. He smiled and pulled her hands to his lips.
“You are enchanting, my dear.”
Penelope could take no more. She wanted to rip her mask off so that he could see that he was dancing with the girl he knew from the country, the girl he had made a housekeeper merely because he’d taken pity on her. She knew that if she showed him, the light in his eyes would dim, his smile would fade, and he would treat her differently. She pulled her hand from his and forced herself to step back.
“Thank you for the dance, sir. Please, if you would be so kind, will you escort me to the dining room?”
He noted the abrupt change in her demeanour. He knew that she recognised him, so he wondered why the sudden wall she had put up with her manner? He was so delighted to see her. Even with the mask, he would have known her anywhere. He had her smile memorised. He had every facet of her eyes ingrained in his mind.
He nodded. “As you wish, my dear.” He took her hand and put it on his arm as he led the way to the dining room. He was nearly there, where he saw Lord Thomas, with no mask, waiting with his wife and daughters who were scanning the room, apparently looking for their houseguest. Suddenly, not willing to part with her yet, he turned to her. His eyes bore into hers.
“I would like to take a walk with you in the gardens. Will you join me?”
Penelope stammered. “Now? But my friends…”
He nodded. “I know. I just… would you?”
Penelope melted as his eyes searched hers. She nodded, and he abruptly changed direction, away from the dining room and to the other side of the room where large glass-paneled doors led out to a terrace with stairs down to a well-manicured garden.
Out in the fresh air, Penelope took a deep breath. She pulled to a stop and he stepped back to stand beside her.
“It is hard to believe that we are in the middle of London, is it not?” he asked her.
“Yes.” she replied with longing in her voice.
He glanced at her. “Are you not at home here?”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him peering down at her intently. “I love London.”
“But...?”
She hesitated. “I miss the fresh air of the rolling hills. I miss the sounds of the birds and animals, the wind in the trees. I miss the smells of the damp earth, the harvest, even the dust of the fields.”
“Rather strange for a society girl.” he could not help but comment.
“I suppose it is,” Penelope replied. “I suppose most men would find these things I miss to be completely out of place. They would think that I should enjoy spending my days in society, to entertain and be entertained.”
He laughed. Then he led the way down the stairs and to a bench beneath a tall tree.
They sat in silence, the music from the house distant, the serenity of the night embracing them.
Penelope could not help but lean into his arm as they sat side by side. Her hands were folded in her lap, his lay open on his legs. She listened to his breathing and she wished that he would say something.
Finally, he turned towards her.
“Would you think it silly of me if I told you that you enchant me?”
Penelope raised her chin. “A little, yes.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Well. You do not know me. You only just met me, do not know who I am, or anything about me. How enchanting can a stranger be?”
He laughed and took her hands in his.
“What if I told you that I do know you?” he asked her. His face just inches away from hers.
“How could you?” she asked, her heart beating wildly, her hope unreasonable but undeniable.
“I know you. I have known you ever since you arrived at your Aunt’s estate, many years ago.” Penelope gasped and nearly pulled away in shock. The Duke held her hands fast in his. He continued, “I found you in the fog. I could not let you go back, any more than you wanted
to go back. I was enchanted already. I had to help you. I didn’t know how, so I desperately hired you to be my housekeeper. What else could I do?”
A tear spilled out from under her mask. He let go of one hand and gently brushed the tear away.
“I watched you turn from that wet, bedraggled child into a woman of stature and self-respect, and then from that to a woman of substance and belonging.”
Penelope felt her breath coming in gasps. He knew her! Despite the mask, he had been able to pick her out from the crowd. She didn’t know how, and then it hit her.
“You are home early!” she half accused.
Nat laughed. “Yes. I had urgent business that could not wait. I returned as quickly as I could.”
Penelope squeezed his hand, “I am so glad. I was so…” She paused. “I was so worried about you.”
Nat felt something move deep inside him, and he longed to take her face in his hands and kiss her. He leaned forward, his eyes on hers. He saw the depth of her feelings for him, and suddenly, he was scared. He kissed her on the cheek and he sat back, letting go of her hands.
She noted the change, and she nearly wept.
Controlling her emotions as best as she could, she stood up. “I am truly thankful that you are home safely, Your Grace. I need to return.” She turned her back to him and started to move away, but she had taken barely two steps before he caught her from behind. He turned her to face him and covered her mouth with his own.
Several minutes later, both breathless, they stood in silence. Finally, he led her back to the bench and they sat again.
“Penelope…” Her heart soared as he said her name. “...I am still sorting things out with Abigail and that scoundrel she married. Once that is settled, might I call on you? Might I speak to Lord Asbury and ask for your hand?”
Penelope smiled, tears flowing freely. Unable to say the words, she merely nodded. He gently took her face in his hands and kissed her gently, the warmth of their shared feelings washing over them.
***
The following day, Penelope woke with an excitement that she had only ever dreamt of. She quickly dressed herself and deftly fashioned her hair into a pile of curls on top of her head. She nearly flew down the stairs. At the bottom, she found herself staring at Jenkins, who was clearly troubled.
