That baffled Penelope.
I have never been more of an outsider within the ton, and yet my books have never been more fashionable?
“There must be some misunderstanding,” she said, certain Lady Dorothy’s information was faulty. “Surely the store owners simply removed the books from their shelves to avoid association with me?”
Lady Dorothy shook her head. “No, that is not the case in the least. I have heard from several sources, including close friends, that you are all the rage among young ladies. They swarmed the book shops in droves after your story broke, buying up all the copies of your novels within days.”
“Really?” Penelope was baffled. She glanced back to the ladies who had been whispering so cruelly about her as she and Lady Dorothy had passed by. Their narrowed eyes were still on her, watching as she continued down the street. Turning her gaze back to Lady Dorothy, she said, “Those ladies did not seem to think highly of me in the least.”
Lady Dorothy rolled her eyes. “Oh, ignore those old crones. They are too stuck in their ways to see the brilliance of what you have done. No, it is the younger ladies who find you inspiring, my dear. They see you as an innovator. A beacon of hope for women seeking to have a more productive place within our society.”
“I…I do not know what to say to that,” Penelope admitted breathlessly. “That was not my intention when I wrote the books. I simply wanted to be a writer because I loved the craft.”
“Exactly,” Lady Dorothy grinned. “You did not let societal dictations of your sex stop you from doing what you pleased. Many young ladies find that quite motivating.”
“That is…surprising.”
“Not as surprising as you may think,” Lady Dorothy chuckled.
They walked for several minutes in companionable silence, their lady’s maids following a short distance behind, as Penelope mused over Lady Dorothy’s assertions. She had not thought anyone in society would be on her side, and so to hear so many young ladies appeared to support her was…encouraging.
Perhaps I can weather this storm after all?
Her thoughts turned from her own concerns over to Lady Dorothy. Penelope had eventually overcome her anger toward Harry, and the two had made up. He kept her abreast of the ongoing dramatics regarding his and Lady Dorothy’s relationship. Her parents were still adamant that they do not marry. Even for the lady to be out today with Penelope would result in severe consequences when she returned home.
Lady Dorothy was remaining steadfast, however. Though she did not go so far as to appear with Harry in public, they wrote to each other constantly. Andrew had more freedom to defy the Duke and Duchess and made regular visits to Penelope. He would bring a letter from Lady Dorothy for Harry, and her brother would usually have a response to her penned by the time Andrew returned home.
It was heartbreaking to witness.
“My Lady, if I may be so bold, how are you doing in light of this scandal?” It was easy for Penelope to forget she was not the only one hurting at present.
Lady Dorothy offered her a small smile. “My dear, I believe we have grown close enough that you may call me Dorothy. Besides, if all goes well, we will soon be family.”
Penelope smiled softly and nodded. “Very well, so long as you call me by my name as well.”
Dorothy’s grin was wide, but then slowly faded as she returned to Penelope’s question. “I would be lying if I said it was not difficult. I miss Mr. Snowley more than I can say. His letters sustain me, but they are hardly a substitute for the gentleman himself.”
“Are the Duke and Duchess any closer to relenting in their order for you two to stay apart?”
Dorothy shook her head. “I fear not. Lord Romwich and my father engage in shouting matches on an almost daily basis, and often I can hear them discussing my relationship to your brother. Despite my own brother’s best efforts, however, the Duke appears unmoved.”
“And your mother?” Penelope had only met Her Grace the one time at the Christmas ball, but she had appeared a gentler soul than her husband.
To her surprise, Dorothy’s nostrils flared, and she appeared angry.
“The Duchess is impossible,” she growled. “She keeps trying to convince me to forget Mr. Snowley, as if it were as easy a task as throwing out a ruined bonnet. Every night, she invites a different gentleman to dine with us in the hopes that I will latch onto one of them. No matter how much I protest, or how hard I try to explain, she refuses to believe I truly love Mr. Snowley. She thinks I am just a child with an over-eager infatuation.”
Penelope frowned. “That sounds…terrible.”
Dorothy glanced up at her with a nod. “It is. It is unbearable being around her at present. I only end up furious with her.”
“I am so sorry, Dorothy. This entire mess is my fault. If I had not been so foolish…”
“None of this is your fault,” Dorothy insisted, coming to a stop in the middle of the street. Penelope was forced to halt as well and turn to face her fully. “The only person at fault here is whoever told the newspapers about you. They are the ones to blame for this mess, not you.”
Penelope knew she was right, but her guilt lingered anyway.
“You are a generous soul, Dorothy.”
With a smile and a shrug, the lady hooked her arm back through Penelope’s and they continued on their way down the street.
“Has Lord Romwich told you if he has any idea who may have gone to the papers?” Dorothy asked.
“No, he has not. Has he said anything to you?”
Dorothy shook her head. “No, I am afraid not.”
Andrew had made it his duty to find whoever it was who had leaked the information of Penelope’s true identity to the papers. The most logical explanation was that it was someone within the Lockeder household, though Penelope was now certain it had not been Dorothy. He had interrogated every member of the staff, but none had been forthcoming with information or an identity.
Penelope had begun to wonder if perhaps the culprit was in her own household. She could not imagine any of her parents’ staff betraying her in such a way, but she could not rule out the possibility.
“I just cannot imagine why anyone would do this,” she murmured. “Why would they wish to ruin me this way?”
Dorothy patted her hand. “There, there. There is no point in fretting about it now. Lord Romwich will handle the matter, and in the meantime, you must go about your days as if nothing is wrong.”
“You are right,” Penelope nodded. “I know you are right. It is just so difficult. I hate putting so much strain on Lord Romwich.”
“You must not think like that.” Dorothy wagged a finger in front of Penelope’s face. “My brother rarely does anything he does not wish to do. It is his choice entirely to hunt the culprit down in this way. We should just pray he catches the guilty party quickly, so that we all might move on with our lives.”
Penelope nodded, some of her tension easing at Dorothy’s words. The lady was correct once more. Andrew had the situation well in hand, and she would trust him to handle things. The worst had surely passed, and now they need only wait for the gossip to quiet and the Duke and Duchess to calm down.
All would be well. With Andrew at her side, nothing could truly harm her.
* * *
“Penelope? There appear to be constables at your door.”
With a frown, Penelope leaned forward to look out the window of the Lockeder carriage to find that, indeed, there were two constables standing on the front step of her family’s home. The door was open, and they appeared to be speaking to Carlton.
“What in the world could be happening?”
Dorothy glanced toward her, worry darkening her gaze. “I do not know.”
The carriage came to a stop in front of the house and a footman hurried to open the door and assist the ladies out. Once her feet hit the ground, Penelope hurried forward and up the steps leading to the house.
“Pardon me, what is going on?” she asked, pushing pa
st the constable to stand next to Carlton.
“Madam, I am so sorry,” the old butler said in an unusually ruffled tone. “These gentlemen insist on speaking to you. I told them you were out, but they would not take no for an answer.”
“It is all right, Carlton,” Penelope said, placing a hand on his shoulder and offering a reassuring smile. “I will speak with them here. Please inform my father of their arrival.”
“Yes, Madam.” Carlton shot a glare to the constables before retreating back into the house.
Raising her chin and pushing back her shoulders, Penelope faced the group of constables.
“How may I help you gentlemen today?”
One of the constables removed his helmet and tucked it beneath his arm.
“Begging your pardon, Madam. We have come on a somewhat indelicate matter.”
Her heart raced with fear and her stomach twisted with dread, but Penelope maintained a cool exterior as she replied, “Oh? What matter is that?”
The man flushed, glancing back at his companion. When he looked back to her once more, he explained, “I am afraid that we are here to inform you that an investigation is being opened in regards to yours and your brother’s acts of criminal impersonation. I must also unfortunately inform you that the publishing house which maintains your…works is filing a civil suit against you.”
Penelope lost her breath. “What? What do you mean criminal impersonation? What civil suit?”
The constable gulped, clearly uncomfortable with his task as messenger.
“Your brother falsely named himself the author of your novels and received payments as a result of the books’ sales. You are being considered his accomplice in this matter. As for the civil suit, the publishing house is claiming a breach of contract on the grounds of falsified identity.”
Penelope’s knees began to shake, and she clutched the doorframe to keep herself upright.
“This…this cannot be right…”
“Excuse me, what is the meaning of this?” Dorothy suddenly snapped, drawing everyone’s gaze to her. She stood at the bottom of the steps leading up to the door, her hands on her hips, and her expression furious. “What is this about Miss Snowley’s publishing house suing her?”
“I am afraid that is correct, My Lady,” the constable who had delivered the news nodded as he twisted his helmet in his hands.
“Well, I will have you know my Father, the Duke of Lockeder, is the owner of said publishing house,” Dorothy snapped. “This is clearly a misunderstanding that I assure you will be cleared up forthwith.”
The constable did not appear convinced. “I…I apologize, My Lady, but we have our orders…”
“Is Miss Snowley under arrest?”
He shook his head. “Not at this time, no.”
Dorothy arched a brow. “Then I believe your business here is done. You have informed her of the charges she faces. We will handle the matter from here.”
“My Lady…”
“Good day, gentlemen.” She spoke with such an air of authority and finality that the constables appeared at a loss for what to do. Slowly, they began to disperse from the front steps, giving Dorothy a wide berth as they made their way away from the house.
Penelope watched them go, panic making her dizzy. Dorothy hurried up the steps to her and grabbed her shoulders.
“Let us go inside, my dear,” the lady said in a soft voice. “You are frighteningly pale.”
Penelope allowed her to escort her into the house.
She had been wrong before, she realized with tears in her eyes as Dorothy physically directed her toward the front parlor. Things could yet get worse.
Things could get so much worse.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Andrew stormed through Lockeder manor toward his father’s study. Fury like he had never known coursed through him, setting his blood on fire. Dorothy had just arrived home in a flutter, panic and anxiety making her voice shake as she explained to him that she had just left Penelope at her home, shaken and terrified.
Constables had visited her. Constables! They had been waiting on her doorstep to threaten her and frighten her, and he knew exactly who had sent them.
When he reached the study doors, he did not bother to knock, instead throwing them open and strolling inside without warning. The Duke looked up from his desk, clearly startled at the sudden intrusion.
“What in the blazes are you doing here?” he barked once he had recovered his wits enough to speak.
Andrew marched up to his father’s desk and slapped his hands on the surface, leaning over it so he could snarl in the Duke’s face.
“You are suing her? You are leveling criminal charges against her and suing her? How dare you!”
The Duke held up his hands as his brow furrowed. “Now wait just one moment. You have me at a loss, Andrew. Who is it I am supposed to be suing?”
“Miss Snowley!” he shouted, shoving from the desk to pace back and forth across the room. “Because I refuse to abandon her, you decide to throw her in jail? What is the matter with you?”
The Duke shot to his feet and rounded his desk so that he faced his son toe-to-toe.
“You will watch the way you speak to me, boy,” he growled. “I am your father and your superior, and you will not disrespect me.”
“You disrespect me by harming her,” Andrew hissed in response, his anger overriding any intimidation his father may still hold over him. “She is innocent of wrongdoing.”
“Miss Snowley is far from innocent,” the Duke scoffed. “At least criminally speaking. However, I did not level the suit against her or turn the constables onto her.”
“Liar!”
“Why would I lie about this? What have I to gain if that girl is imprisoned or made destitute? I would be considered a monster by the ton, despite her current reputation.”
Andrew gnashed his teeth. “If you did not do it, then who did?”
“I do not know,” the Duke shrugged. “I do not oversee the day-to-day functioning of the publishing house, as you know. It could have been a decision made within the business, and they would be well within their legal rights to level such charges against her.”
“None of your managers would move forward with such a decision without consulting you first.” Andrew bawled his hands into fists at his sides. Never had he been so tempted to physically engage his father. The Duke was a large gentleman, and though Andrew now matched him in height and breadth, there remained an air of authority that cloaked his father that he had never wished to disrespect. Now, though, he had no such reservations.
“If you intend to hit me, do so quickly, for you will only get one chance.” The Duke’s voice was low and dangerous. Andrew’s nostrils flared, and he tightened his fingers.
All of his anger from the past few weeks bubbled just beneath his skin. All of his frustration and pain toward his parents tempted him to seek some form of revenge and retribution.
Make him hurt the way he has made you hurt. Do it!
The voice in his head was insistent and loud, but he gave himself a shake. What good would there be in striking his father? What would he accomplish, apart from temporary relief? It would only be followed by immense guilt.
With a curse and a snarl of frustration, Andrew loosened his hands and stepped away from the Duke. His father released a sigh and nodded.
“Good choice, lad.”
Andrew shot him a side-eyed glare. “Do not make me regret it.”
The Duke held up his hands. “I apologize for provoking you.”
Andrew took in a deep, soothing breath. “I apologize for barging in and accusing you of targeting Miss Snowley. I had no proof that it was you, but I jumped to conclusions anyway.”
Shaking his head, the Duke returned to his large leather chair behind his desk and sat.
“My boy, will you not let this go now? Miss Snowley’s reputation continues to plummet, and she will drag you with her if you do not cut ties.”
Andrew did no
t respond immediately. Moving to the liquor service, he poured himself a Scotch from the half-full crystal decanter. Taking a long drink, he turned and settled into one of the smaller chairs in front of the Duke’s desk.
“You risk my wrath again, Father, by even suggesting such a ridiculous thing.”
The Duke rolled his eyes. “You are too stubborn for your own good, you know that, yes?”
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