Love Regency Style

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Love Regency Style Page 340

by Samantha Holt


  Thereafter, they spent some time deciding on the intricate details and the rhythm of the Falcon dance.

  The duke closed his eyes, his lips pressing together to keep his laughter from bubbling over.

  The carriage rolled to a stop. They had arrived at the inn.

  “The Golden Pass,” Penelope read, and then turning to the duke said, “Your grace, do not eat the chicken here … I think, instead of chickens, they feed their customer crows. I dined here once.”

  The duke couldn’t help it. He laughed.

  Chapter 34

  As soon as the duke stepped out of the carriage and into the blazing afternoon sun, Jimmy launched into activity.

  “I have stopped robbing ladies ever since my apple dumpling left me, but I should have something …” Jimmy said, patting his cloak.

  “What are you looking for?” Penelope asked, watching him shake out his red silk cloak and search all his fifty two pockets.

  “I don’t have one with me …Wait, my men are guarding …” Jimmy muttered to himself, and leaped out of the carriage.

  A moment later, he leaped back in and settled a large, intricately carved wooden box on the seat.

  “What is it?” Penelope asked in a hushed voice. The box was beautiful.

  “Apart from books, I have a penchant for collecting these,” Jimmy said, caressing the box lovingly. “I carry them with me everywhere I go. It hurts to part with a single one, but I think my soul would cry forever if I did not share it with you.”

  “But what is it? And if it is stolen, then I am not taking it.”

  “It is stolen,” Jimmy said, opening the box. “But I think you will agree that your need is greater than mine at the moment. Even your morals cannot quibble. You will take it.”

  Penelope was quiet for a long time. She stared at the contents of the box and finally nodded.

  “Thank you,” she said reverently.

  Jimmy smiled in triumph and sorted through the contents; the contents being hundreds of combs and brushes of all shapes, sizes and colours.

  “I would love to give you this beautiful ivory piece, but this would suit you better,” he said, taking out the sturdiest and ugliest wooden comb from the box. “It is not because I don’t want you to have a lovelier one …”

  “I understand. Anything else will get stuck in my hair and break.”

  “Precisely. Now turn around.”

  “Do you know how to dress a woman’s hair?”

  “You forget, I have daughters and they no longer have a mother. I had to learn how to braid. We had a nanny for the children. She stole my silver lampshade and ran away. I haven’t had time to find a replacement …”

  “How could someone steal from you? You are a sophisticated thief,” Penelope said, turning around and letting Jimmy attack her hair.

  Jimmy reddened, “I am pretty good at my job, but even sophisticated thieves like us can be duped. I had partaken of a little too much wine that night. Numnums had run away and I was feeling maudlin …”

  “Numnums?”

  “My apple dumpling, my pudding, my berry pie, blossom butt—”

  “Your wife,” she hastily interrupted.

  “Yes,” Jimmy sighed.

  He manipulated her hair for a little longer and then said, “Here, I am done.”

  “You are extraordinarily talented. Even Mary has never been able to make my hair behave so quickly,” Penelope said, inspecting her hair in a small mirror that Jimmy produced.

  “It is a simple braid. The duke may return any moment. I had to work fast. At least you will no longer frighten the inn’s customers.”

  “Jimmy, will I ever see you again?” she asked, setting the mirror down.

  “Now don’t get all teary-eyed,” Jimmy said sniffing and wiping his eyes.

  “I hate goodbyes,” Penelope said, a large tear trickling down her cheek.

  “Then let us not say it,” he said, kissing her forehead.

  Penelope offered a watery smile, and with a last wave and a swish of the cloak, Jimmy left her alone.

  ***

  Penelope, bundled in the purple quilt, followed a flushed young lad towards the back of the inn. The bellboy refused to look her in the eye all through the walk up the kitchen stairs. The moment they reached their room, he scurried away.

  “Your grace, that bell boy thought I was a loose skirt,” Penelope exclaimed as soon as she entered the room.

  “I had to let him think that. I did not want anyone to discover that we were travelling alone without a chaperone. I was thinking of your reputation.”

  Penelope hmmphed.

  “Besides, you look ridiculous.”

  “My hair is tamed.”

  He blinked and eyed her from crown to toe.

  “A vast improvement,” he said softly.

  Penelope blushed. She avoided his eyes and glanced around the room.

  Whoever had decorated the room must have loathed the owner. The colours were hideous, the furniture appalling and dusty. But that didn’t bother her. What did bother her was the queen size bed in the corner.

  “Come here,” he said.

  Her eyes flew to his, and she stepped back until her shoulders hit the door.

  The duke sighed, “When will you stop backing away every time you see me? I have breakfast here. I want you to come and eat quickly. We only have half an hour.”

  “We did not have to stop, not on my account,” Penelope huffed, making no move to join him.

  “I needed to change horses … Now, will you eat something?”

  She gingerly made her way towards the duke, her eyes wary.

  “I am not going to kiss you, Penelope.”

  By now her cheeks were the colour of ripe tomatoes, but she believed him. She walked more confidently and took her place next to him.

  She finished scraping the last morsel off her plate when she caught the duke eyeing her strangely.

  She followed his line of sight and looked down at herself. The quilt had slipped off her shoulders revealing her thin, pale peach silk nightdress. The plate fell from her hands with a clatter.

  The duke turned his face away, a hint of red creeping up his neck.

  A moment of uncomfortable silence later, he eyed her once again.

  Her lashes fluttered. She had not managed to cover herself up.

  “I said, I won’t kiss you,” he said, standing up.

  “Yes, it would be a terrible idea,” she replied, standing up as well.

  The quilt lay forgotten on the chair.

  He moved towards her. She met him half way.

  “It would be a terrible idea.”

  Penelope nodded halfheartedly. “Terrible, terrible idea.”

  “Why?” the duke asked, cupping the back of her head.

  “Why what?” she asked dazedly.

  “Why is it a bad idea to kiss? To kiss is a good thing …”

  “Kissing is good,” she said, nodding eagerly, “very, very good.”

  “Then we shouldn’t be bad.”

  “No, we should not …”

  He didn’t wait for her to finish. He pecked her.

  After all that intense eye contact, she had been expecting a proper kiss. She frowned. What the duke had given her was a platonic, dutiful, and an indifferent little kiss. The sort of peck the duke would give a dry, boring old grandmother. And now the blasted man was stepping … Penelope didn’t let him pull away. She caught the back of his head and pecked him back, her lips lingering a touch longer.

  He frowned and pecked her again.

  She gave a little stamp with her foot, grabbed his head and glued her lips to his refusing to let go.

  He smiled against her lips and kissed her, not a peck this time but an achingly soft, sweet kiss.

  She laughed and wriggled closer.

  He made a funny little sound at the back of his throat and tugged her chin.

  Her lips parted, his tongue delved in and the room spun.

  Her hands tightened
on his shoulders. And the next moment the two were wrapped in a passionate duel, the gentleness, laughter, and dusty little inn forgotten … until an imaginary Lady Lydia caught hold of Penelope’s ear and pulled her away from the duke.

  He reluctantly let her go, his eyes questioning.

  “Lady Lydia …,” she whispered.

  “… is not here,” he finished huskily.

  And then they jumped right back into each other’s arms and continued where they had left off.

  A moment later a knock at the door had them flying apart. A maid had arrived with a fresh pot of coffee and a whole lot of awkwardness. The awkwardness did not die with her departure.

  “Wrap yourself up,” he said, sounding as if he was in pain.

  When her fumbling fingers refused to work, he roughly pulled the cloth around her, taking care to touch her skin as little as possible.

  They were both breathing heavily by the time he finished.

  “I am going down to the carriage. I want you to follow in a few minutes. Make sure no one sees you. Hide your face,” the duke said, avoiding her eyes.

  Penelope squeaked something incomprehensible in reply to his departing back.

  A few minutes later, Penelope poked her head out of the door and found curious beady eyes squinting at her from the room directly opposite.

  They eyed each other, each acknowledging that something unseemly was going on. The woman blinked first, breaking the spell.

  She smiled and Penelope fled.

  “Someone saw me,” Penelope gasped, as soon as the carriage door was closed.

  “Who?”

  “She was oddly familiar… She looked like a mongoose, with a long body and a small head …’”

  “Lady Plasket,” the duke said, cursing under his breath.

  Penelope paled, “The same Lady Plasket whose dinner we …?”

  “Yes,” he said shortly.

  “But she doesn’t know that you were in the room as well,” she said hopefully.

  “On the contrary, I saw an eye peering at me from behind the door. I didn’t know whose eye it was until you described her. I thought it must be some dubious fellow concerned about his own privacy. Lady Plasket must have had an eye stuck to the door, especially after she saw me leave the room. The woman is a gossip. This is going to be all over the ton tomorrow.”

  “I am doomed?” Penelope asked, in a small voice.

  “Anne had stopped at this inn. I have sent a man to investigate. We should be able to apprehend them soon,” the duke said, ignoring her question.

  “I am doomed,” Penelope announced to the green curtains. “I hope we find Anne quickly. I need to make a plan.”

  “Plan?”

  “Yes, I will have to count my pennies and book myself on the next boat to Ireland. No man in England is going to marry me after this,” she said unhappily.

  “We will see,” the duke said, his eyes busy scanning the road.

  A grubby child of ten rapped on the window three times. The duke left the carriage to talk to his informer.

  The duke returned and almost immediately the carriage started moving.

  “They are going to stop at Lord Rivers’ hunting cabin. It is not very far … They must have been afraid that I may catch up with them, which is why they barely stopped at The Golden Pass. They packed their breakfast and are planning to dine there. It is pure luck that I came by the information,” the duke told her.

  After that, silence reigned in the carriage, with Penelope dwelling on the kiss and her dwindling future prospects. Soon her eyes became heavy and she nodded off, only waking when the carriage came to a halt.

  “This is it?” Penelope asked, her voice husky with exhaustion.

  The duke pulled out a box from underneath the seat. A sparkling sliver gun answered her question.

  The duke stepped out of the carriage and Penelope followed. He seemed to have forgotten her presence, his eyes intent on searching the landscape.

  A large hunting cabin sat in the middle of fat trees. The wild landscape blended in with the wooden exterior of the cabin. It was a pretty picture.

  They made their way towards the entrance when loud shouts stopped them in their tracks. The voices had sounded familiar. After a moment of cocking their ears to ascertain where the noise was coming from, the two of them raced towards the back of the building.

  Penelope and the duke halted in their tracks, stunned by the vision before them.

  The giant cabbages growing in the vegetable patch were remarkable, but what was more remarkable was the fact that Lord Rivers and Lord Poyning were embroiled in a fight. It was not gentlemen fencing, nor was it a manly duel involving pistols. No, it was good old fashioned fisticuffs. They were going at it like enraged school boys, using hands and legs, and when it warranted, teeth.

  Anne, the once graceful Lady Anne, was cheering from the sidelines. She was jumping up and down shouting encouragement and at times offering helpful tips. Interestingly, her kind support was all for Lord Rivers.

  “Kick him between the legs, Rivers … That’s it. Now, punch, punch, punch the blasted man,” Anne screeched.

  Penelope did not know what to make of it. The duke, too, was looking a tad lost.

  A moment later, Penelope could take it no more. Taking a deep breath, she hollered, “Rivers, for goodness’ sakes, listen to Anne. Bend your knee … Now whack him on the head.”

  The duke wanted to let Lord Rivers continue beating up Lord Poyning, but his mother would be worried. They needed to get back to her.

  Reluctantly he roared, “Enough!”

  Except for Penelope, no one ever dared to ignore that tone. Neither did Lord Poyning nor Lord Rivers. They let go of each other, eyes wary like two stray dogs meeting for the first time.

  “Explain,” the duke said quietly.

  Anne slinked towards her brother. Penelope imagined a tail between her legs.

  “I was eloping with Lord Poyning,” Anne said shamefacedly.

  “I gathered as much. Why were you screeching like a fisherwoman is my question. I noticed your loyalties have switched. You wanted your intended to be trounced soundly. Any reason?” the duke asked matter-of-factly.

  “Yes, that was before I knew …”Anne stopped, tears glistening in her eyes.

  “Can we sit somewhere and talk about this?” Penelope asked, her hands stroking Anne’s hair.

  The duke hesitated for a moment, but at Anne’s pleading look, he nodded. He then ordered the two young lords to stay put until he returned.

  The duke refused to enter the hunting lodge. Instead, they made their way back to the carriage. Once inside, Anne broke down into convulsive sobs. Penelope soothed her as best as she could.

  “He is horrid, Penny, horrid,” Anne hiccupped, “Lord Rivers arrived just in time and told me everything. I did not believe him at first, but he showed me the letters. I had to believe that. I know his hand.”

  “Hush, Annie, tell me from the beginning,” Penelope soothed.

  Anne straightened and dashed a hand across her streaming eyes.

  “That day when I fell off the orange tree … he … he caught me,” her voice became stronger as she spoke, anger replacing misery, “I thought our plan had not worked until he pressed a letter into my palm before leaving. He begged me to meet him at Kitty May’s ball. I met him and he confessed that he had loved me for two years. I was so happy. I thought he felt exactly as I had done all this time. He said that he had been frightened of Charles, but he would have pressed his suit had I given him the slightest encouragement. He was flirting with you, Penny, to make me jealous and see if I react favourably.”

  “Did you plan to run away that day?” Penelope asked.

  “Yes. He told me that Charles would never agree to our marriage. He asked me to elope with him. After that argument with my brother where he made it clear that he would never accept Lord Poyning, I knew I had no choice. If I wanted to marry him, then I would have to elope. Thereafter, Lord Poyning sent m
e a note with the plan. I was to get into the carriage parked outside the Blackthorne Mansion at four in the morning. I did not know that you had tied that string to alert you if I left.”

  “What did Lord Rivers tell you?” the duke asked gently.

  “We reached the lodge and found Lord Rivers waiting for us. They had a huge fight, each hurling accusations at the other. Then Lord Rivers tried to tell me not to trust Lord Poyning. I wouldn’t listen to him, not until he showed me the letters.” Anne felt silent.

  “What letters?” Penelope prompted.

  Anne fidgeted with the tassels on her shawl, refusing to say anymore.

  “Can I guess, Annie? I think I know …” the duke said softly.

  “How?” Anne asked shocked.

  “Did Lady Plasket see you at The Golden Pass?” the duke asked instead of answering her.

  “Charles, are you a magician? She was going up to her room when she saw us ordering breakfast. I ignored her. I thought I would be married so it did not matter,” Anne spoke in awe.

  “I need to do something. I will be right back,” the duke said shortly. He refused to say anything more and left the carriage.

  “Anne, what letters?” Penelope asked again.

  “I couldn’t tell you in front of, Charles, but now that he is gone, it will be easier. Quickly then let me recount what Lord Rivers told me. He showed me the letters that Poyning had written to Lydia. Lord Poyning is in love with Lady Lydia.”

  “Truly?” Penelope gasped.

  “Yes, they were having an affair. Lord Poyning wanted to marry Lydia, but she refused because he had gambled away all his wealth and his title was not grand enough for her. Charles, on the other hand, is a duke and superbly wealthy. Hence, Charles and Lydia became engaged, but Lydia’s love affair with Lord Poyning did not end with the announcement of the engagement. On the contrary, Lydia, rotten as she is, decided that she wanted both men in her life, and hence she hatched a plan.”

  “Lord Poyning would marry you and pay off his debts using your dowry and she would marry Charles,” Penelope guessed.

  Anne nodded, “The trouble was that Lord Rivers had overheard their plan. He decided to keep an eye on Poyning pretending to be his friend. He wanted to attain proof before divulging the facts to the duke. Meanwhile, he never allowed Poyning to be alone with me for any length of time. And Charles’ protective behaviour towards me further thwarted Poyning’s attempts at courting me.”

 

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