Lady Winterbourne's Entanglement: A Romantic Regency Adventure

by Miriam Rochester

  Nat could not argue with that. Rosie lived on the edge of a yawning precipice and was constantly under observation and at risk of exposure. She did not want to risk her daughter and had sent her into service in Newcastle. When Hannah arrived at Charlotte Square a year before, Nat had immediately fallen for his employer’s personal maid and after a whirlwind romance, the pair had married. When visiting his mother-in-law, Nathanial had once or twice partaken in the smuggling runs himself, but he would never have left his beloved mistress to pursue this more lucrative venture. He had been the family groom since Lady Penelope was six years old. He had accompanied her when she had married, and he had left with her when she came to Newcastle. It was Nathanial who had taught Penelope to ride her first little pony and he still felt a huge responsibility toward his mistress, who was now, to all intents and purposes, cast adrift and alone. He was annoyed with Rosie, but it was no use crying over spilt milk, and after all, there was no harm done. Rosie was right; at most, his mistress would just have an abysmal headache in the morning.

  It was only after Nathanial had married Hannah that he became aware of his mother in law’s prolific involvement in the smuggling trade. Rosie was a very popular figure in the community and her farmstead was often used as a meeting point. Rosie’s barn even had a false cavity wall that was accessed from the roof, and it was an ideal hiding place for incoming goods until they could be moved on. The local riding officer had descended on Rosie’s farmstead more than once, but the cavity wall was so well concealed, discovery would have been almost impossible. Jorgie the dog, no lover of the riding officers and with an aversion to the conspicuous red uniform, ensured that their visits were short. Captain Monaghan, the local riding officer, did not doubt that given the opportunity, the loathsome animal would have the flesh from his breeches.

  The men of the community were beginning to arrive to finalise the plans for the night run and Rosie fed them, fortifying them for the long night ahead. A square-rigger from Holland was to anchor off the coast at Marsden with a consignment of brandy, gin and tea, and they were preparing to meet it in two large fishing boats that were already harboured off Frenchman’s Bay. Rosie was to conceal a large portion of the consignment, which was to be sold locally, and the rest was to be taken to other safe houses ready for further distribution to South Shields, Sunderland, Durham and Newcastle. Some of it would go directly to the local inns to fulfil their regular orders.

  Nathanial had agreed to join the run as a member of the land party and help deliver the contraband destined for the farmhouse. With that in mind, he went out to the barn to saddle up Lady Winterbourne’s black stallions ready for the night’s smuggling run. Horses were a valuable commodity and additional horses would be useful. He did not think his Lady would mind, but if things went smoothly, she need never know.

  Chapter 4

  Penelope woke up early the next morning with a slight headache. She put her hand up to her aching head and groaned. She rarely suffered from headaches and could not account for it. She concluded that it must have been the stress of the last few days. It was seven in the morning and all was quiet, an unusual circumstance for a farmstead. She arose, dressed and went down to the kitchen to make a cup of tea and Jorgie came padding up to welcome her with unbounded joy, wagging his tail ecstatically.

  After greeting the dog, she walked over to the hearth to find some hot water simmering in the copper pot over the embers of a dying fire. She frowned to herself. What had happened to all of the lamb stew? Even after they had eaten supper last night, the large pot had been three quarters full. Surely, the dog could not have eaten it all. She looked at the dog accusingly. ‘No Jorgie, you didn’t, surely not!’ The dog just lopped his head to one side in bewilderment at her sudden change in tone. As she did not pursue the matter, he soon forgot her harsh words and began to wag his disgraceful tail, nudging his nose in her hand for attention.

  Penelope tickled his chin and then went over to bank up the fire with the wood she found on the hearth, and brought the water back to the boil. Having found some loose-leaf tea in the cupboard, she brewed a cup and sat on one of the Settles to drink it, still puzzling over the mystery of the missing stew. Perhaps Rosie had sold it after all, but it would have been a strange time of night for buyers to come calling. Hannah’s mother was very kind, but her intuition told her that there was something surreptitious about the place. Being the Dowager Countess of Rosslyn, she knew what a regular farmhouse was like for she had visited many of her husband’s tenants, and this was no ordinary farmhouse. Whatever the case, she knew that she could not stay here forever.

  She patted Jorgie absent-mindedly and sighed. ‘Oh, Jorgie, What am I to do?’ Jorgie gave a quick woof as if it was the answer to all her problems and nuzzled her hand, and Penelope smiled for the first time in days. Nevertheless, she realised that she was in a predicament and that if she were to extricate herself from it, she would need to obtain a divorce. She did not fool herself. Captain Blackmore was right and it was almost impossible for a woman to divorce her husband, but she had to try. After all, she had been led to the altar by the most extreme of deceptions and she possibly had a good case. She would need to go to London to petition parliament.

  The pair sat in companionable silence and when Penelope finished her tea, still no one had stirred. She decided to go to the barn and check on her horses, and maybe, she would just take one of them out for a short ride before breakfast. It would help to clear her head since she had a lot of thinking to do. She could return to her parents, but as they had disapproved of her marriage to the Earl of Rosslyn, they had disowned her and she did not expect that she would be received well. There had been a scandal at the time, people romantically linking the couple to Shakespeare’s feuding families, the Montague’s and the Capulet’s in Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet; only in this case the couple looked destined to live happily ever after. It turned out that it was not to be, as her husband had drowned in that tragic accident only six months after their marriage.

  Neither would she apply to the eighth Earl of Rosslyn. He would no doubt help her, but at the same time make it known that she was a burden on his pocket. Her pride would simply not allow it. Her nearest relative was her Aunt Pamela in the metropolis. Penelope knew she could rely on her in a crisis, but she was nearly three hundred miles away and not within easy travelling distance. She must write to her aunt and prepare to travel to London as soon as possible to seek her assistance.

  Penelope approached the barn with Jorgie plodding behind her, happy to be let out into the fresh air. Nathanial was sleeping there and when she entered, she could hear the sound of light breathing coming from the hayloft. She softly called up to him, but there was no reply. Yet another thing to puzzle her, for Nat was an early riser and it was not like him to sleep this late. Ah well, it had been a stressful day yesterday, so she would leave him to rest. She saddled one of her stallions with an old saddle she found hanging on the barn wall and led him slowly out into the farmyard. The horse appeared reluctant, straining against the bit and needed to be coaxed. ‘Come along Gabriel.’ she whispered in frustration. ‘I would have thought you would like an early morning run to blow away the cobwebs. If you are going to be awkward I will take out Cisco instead and then you will be sorry.’ The horse still baulked and Penelope could do nothing, but remove his saddle and put it on the other stallion. Cisco also appeared reluctant, but did not prove so difficult and Penelope succeeded in leading him out into the farmyard with Jorgie frolicking behind.

  Mounting Cisco, she led him out into the lane and opened up into a canter, but the horse was sluggish and tired and after 20 minutes, she had no alternative but to return him back to the barn. By this time, Nat was awake and was in agitation over the discovery of the missing stallion. As Penelope walked into the barn, he looked relieved. He ran his hands through his unruly hair. ‘Ah, there you are, I was worried for a moment. I thought Cisco had been stolen.’

  Penelope was irritated with the horse. ‘I
attempted to go for an early morning ride, but did not get very far. Both Gabriel and Cisco are exhausted. Just what exactly is going on here Nat? I am not a fool.’

  Nathanial looked uncertain. He was torn between loyalty to his mistress and keeping Rosie’s confidence, but he knew that his mistress would not easily be fobbed off. Lady Penelope was looking at him suspiciously. ‘There are some funny goings on here Nat. Mrs Haldane is living in the height of comfort with no real visible means of support. All the stew is gone. The tea is of the finest blend and to top it all, my stallions are exhausted. If I did not know any better, I would think I was living amongst a nest of smugglers.’

  Nat sighed. ‘Aye, you are at that,’ he admitted resignedly. ‘Rosie is a popular figure in these parts and heads a local smuggling group, and for her pains she makes quite a profit. I did not know it myself until after I married Hannah and it took her a while to trust me. However, you can rest assured, my Lady, that you are safe here; there is no one more trustworthy than Rosie. I am sorry Lady Penelope, but we needed all the horses at our disposal last night as it was a large cargo, and Gabriel and Cisco were used to transport the goods from the coast.’

  ‘So that is why they are so tired. Really Nat,’ she lamented. ‘I should discipline you severely, but it is not in my heart to do so.’ Nathanial gave his mistress a wide grin. ‘Don’t tell Rosie you know about it My Lady, or I shall get a severe scolding from her as well, and one scolding before breakfast is quite enough. Rosie thought it was best that you remain ignorant for your own safety.’

  ‘Yes and no doubt she did not trust me either, but rest assured, Rosie’s secret is safe with me,’ she replied severely. ‘But take care of what you are about Nathanial, for it would break my heart to see you deported and lose you.’

  Nathanial nodded his head. ‘I will, my Lady. If you are careful, the risk is not so very great. There are not enough excise men covering the coastline and with a little ingenuity, they can be evaded. If you would like some exercise before breakfast, I can take you down to the shoreline to the scene of all the activity. It is only a mile from here. Would you like to stretch your legs?’

  Lady Penelope gave a broad smile. ‘Well, seeing as the horses are exhausted and I cannot ride, a brisk walk may be just the thing, besides I need someone to talk to.’

  They made their way down the dirt track to the cliff tops, Jorgie running ahead of them, and then scrambled down to the shore and onto Frenchmans Bay, a bay named after a French ship that ran aground there in the 17th century. Nathanial threw a stick for the dog and watched as he bounded into the sea to retrieve it. They sat on a large boulder looking out over the dark blue water of the North Sea and watched the waves as they lapped onto the sand. Nathanial sighed. ‘It is hard to believe that this place was a hive of activity last night. It is so peaceful now.’

  ‘Did you not have any trouble with the Riding Officers,’ she asked apprehensively.

  ‘No,’ Nat replied. ‘A rumour was spread at the Swan Inn in Cleadon that a big drop was to take place in South Shields last night. The Riding officers swallowed it hook, line and sinker and went haring off toward the mouth of the Tyne. It was arranged with the Ham public house, by the Alum Ham scullerman’s landing on the banks of the Tyne that they should play host to the riding officers and lead them a merry dance to distract them.’

  Penelope sat staring out to sea with a faraway look in her eyes and suddenly changed the subject. ‘Nat, if I am to get my home and wealth back, I will need to go to London and petition Parliament for a divorce and I need your assistance.’

  Nathanial looked shocked. ‘Anything My Lady, but can you afford it? It costs a lot of money to travel to London and as I see it, you have escaped with not much more than the clothes on your back.’

  ‘I have a little money on me, I counted it last night,’ she confided. ‘There was £170 in the Grecian Urn, more than enough to support me for a while, and get me to London and back. I will write to my Aunt Pamela and ask if I can stay with her, so I shall be fine once I arrive there. If I do not succeed I shall be destitute and reliant on others for the rest of my life.’

  ‘I shall be happy to accompany you to London my Lady, if you think Parliament will help you,’ he replied. He scratched his bristled chin in contemplation. ‘I must say though, I have never heard of a woman divorcing her husband before, it is usually the other way around.’

  Penelope looked at him despondently. ‘I am well aware Nat, but I must try. Unfortunately, I cannot afford to take you with me. I do not know how long it will take and I need all the money I have at my disposal. That is not the kind of help I ask of you. I want you to go to Newcastle and purchase a ticket for me on the mail coach. Then I would like you to go to a gentleman’s clothes store and buy some men’s clothing for me. I cannot go to Newcastle myself in case I bump into Captain Blackmore.’

  ‘But my Lady, you cannot travel all the way to London by yourself without an escort to protect you. It would be dangerous,’ he protested. ‘Let me come with you. I have some savings of my own and I don’t mind roughing it in a barn with the horses.’

  Lady Penelope put a hand upon his forearm and looked into his stricken eyes. ‘You must keep your savings for yourself and Hannah. You are a married man now and have your own responsibilities. No Nat, I shall manage very well by myself dressed as a man. I promise that I will keep a low profile. Goodness knows what my aunt will say when I turn up on her doorstep dressed in men’s clothing, but I think it will be safer for me to travel that way.’

  She gazed back out to the sea, the waves gently rolling in, lapping against the rocks on the seashore and resolutely vowed. ‘I shall never trust another man again Nat. No, not for as long as I live. I will learn to shoot, fence and fight just like the best of them and I will survive.’

  Nat looked horrified. ‘But My Lady,’ he protested. ‘I am a man!’

  She looked up at his wounded countenance and smiled. ‘So you are Nat, but you do not count.’ She took his hand her hers and squeezed it. ‘You Nat, are as good as family and I do not know what I would do without you. Will you teach me how to shoot, fence and defend myself, for I swear that no man will ever get the better of me again.’

  Nat hesitated. ‘I dare say I could teach you how to handle a pistol, My Lady, but I am no expert with a sword. It is a gentleman’s pursuit and you would need a gentleman to teach you. I know of no one except, perhaps...’

  ‘Perhaps who Nat?’ she interrupted eagerly.

  Nat waved his hand dismissively. ‘Ah forget it, my lady. The idea is impossible.’

  ‘No Nat, I will not forget it. Who were you thinking of?’

  ‘Well, my Lady, the great Henry Angelo himself. He has a fencing academy in London’s Bond Street, just next door to Gentleman Jackson’s boxing academy, but I think it is a gentleman’s establishment and you would never be allowed across the threshold.’

  Penelope jumped up off the rock and smoothed down her skirts, her mind mulling over the possibilities. ‘Maybe I will or maybe I will not. It is always worth a try. Meanwhile, you can fetch your Flintlock and teach me how to use it, for I need to prepare for my journey.’

  Penelope looked toward Jorgie who was snuffling under the rocks on the shoreline and then looked up at the soft white clouds rolling across the pale blue morning sky. She momentarily closed her eyes and made a promise. ‘Nat, for as long as I live, I do not intend to be so vulnerable! No never again!’

  Chapter 5

  Penelope spent a month at Rosie’s farm helping her on the land and feeding the livestock. In her spare time, when she was not exercising her black stallions, she took long walks along the beautiful rocky coastline admiring the spectacular scenery of the north east coast. The long golden sands, the spectacular cliffs and the imposing monolith that was called Marsden Rock were a delight to explore. However, her main preoccupation was mastering the skill of pistol shooting and practising the mannerisms and gait of a man in preparation of her journey to London. She was
an apt pupil and Nat finally pronounced that he could teach her no more. She could shoot a hole through a playing card at 30 yards and was as ready as she could be for her proposed trip.

  Nathanial had not been able to acquire a ticket on the mail coach, but had obtained an inside seat for her on the stagecoach. It was a slower, more cumbersome conveyance, but he reasoned that it would be more comfortable, for it was a well-known fact that those who took the mail often arrived at London quite ill from the violent swaying of the carriage.

  Unknown to his mistress at the time, Nat had not only acquired some men’s clothing, but also accompanied by four large, strapping fellows from the local smuggling community, he had let himself into Charlotte Square and collected much of his mistress’s clothing and personal effects in a small trunk. He had taken Lady Winterbourne’s key and apart from Jennings, who was kept restrained by two of the smugglers, Andy and Sam, he had met with little opposition. His only regret was that he could not find any money in the large house, but had packed some of the silver in case his mistress needed it to sell for funds.

  It was with great reservations that Nathanial accompanied Lady Penelope to meet the stagecoach in Newcastle. She had received a reply from her Aunt Pamela, who lived in Bruton Street, saying that she would expect her and would be pleased to have her company for a few weeks. Being a widow who lived on her own, Penelope would just be the tonic she needed to raise her spirits, and she was very much looking forward to her visit.

  Penelope agreed with her groom that she would adopt his identity and travel under the name of Mr. Nathanial Penistone. ‘Well Nat, how do I look?’ she asked anxiously. He shook his head. His mistress had cut her long chestnut locks to shoulder length, tied it back in a queue, and a tricorn hat was perched on her head. She wore an olive green tailcoat, short striped waistcoat, black knee breeches with clocked stockings, and a large cravat hid the soft contours of her smooth, refined neck. On the side of her nose, she had placed a large prosthetic hairy mole and another on the side of her chin. She was tall, which was to her advantage, but she was not fooling Nat. He scratched his stubbly chin. ‘Well, to them that might not know you, you may get away with being a fresh faced lad, but I know better, so it ain’t no good asking me,’ he replied miserably. Nat could not hide his concern. He had begged and pleaded to accompany his mistress, but she had steadfastly refused. He had thought to follow in her wake, but he knew he could not afford to do so and he now had Hannah to think of, which just added to his dilemma. He looked at his mistress with apprehension. ‘Promise me that you will keep a low profile, talk to as few people as possible and keep your nose in a book. That way you won’t be getting rumbled.’