Penelope looked at the card. His name and address were written in gold lettering. Lord Xavier Lyndhurst, Earl of Croxdale, Croxdale House, Bedford Square, London. She put the card in-between the pages of her book. He seemed genuine enough and perhaps she could trust him, but she was not going to take the risk. It was a case of once bitten, twice shy. The man was a dark haired Adonis, but as tempting as it was, she had no intention of looking him up once she got to London.
Lord Lyndhurst left the room to go down for his supper and twenty minutes later her supper tray arrived. The fare was simple but excellent. Penelope sat down on the only chair and partook of a supper of vegetable soup, game pie, French beans and cauliflower, and washed it down with a pint of ale. She wrinkled her nose at the ale, but drank it anyway as she was thirsty.
After a servant came to collect the tray, Penelope lay on the bed considering what to do. She considered locking the door so Lord Lyndhurst could not return, but she did not think that would answer. He would possibly just find a duplicate key and then explanations would be necessary. She finally decided on a plan. She would lie on top of the bed fully dressed, read her book, and when he returned, she would pretend to be asleep. She felt under the pillow to check that the pistol was still there. She was being silly for there was no reason why it would not be, but it served to reassure her. Penelope placed it back under her pillow. If this man turned out to be as untrustworthy as the detestable Captain Blackmore, he would know about it. The strategy was simple, but it should work.
It was 11pm when Lord Lyndhurst returned. Penelope had been too nervous to fall asleep and as she heard his steps on the landing, she dropped the book to her chest, nestled her right hand under the pillow grasping the pistol and closed her eyes. Lord Lyndhurst entered the room and walked over to the bed. ‘Mr. Penistone,’ he whispered, but got no reply.
He gently took the book from out of her hand and examined it. It was a book by Daniel Defoe, a book he noted that either a man or a woman could enjoy. Putting it on the bedside cabinet, he closely examined her features. The lad claimed to be eighteen, but there was no sign of even the beginning of facial hair, which he would have expected. He took her left hand in his and examined it, and as he did so, Penelope felt a warm fluttering in her stomach. Lord Lyndhurst smiled to himself; it was a woman’s hand, soft and refined. He looked at her face, her eyelids fluttered gently and he could have sworn that she was feigning sleep. Loosening her neck cloth for comfort, he looked for the telltale laryngeal giveaway on her throat, and as he expected, he found none. Instead, an expensive gold locket inlaid with a large emerald, most definitely a female adornment, encompassed her soft, creamy skin.
Lord Xavier Lyndhurst no longer doubted it. A woman was lying on his bed. Everything pointed to it. Her demands for a single room, her desire to remain there, her reluctance to undress, and the pitch of her voice when she had laughed. He had suspected it at first sight, but he could not be sure. It was the suspicion that had sub-consciously prompted him to rescue her from the clutches of the abominable Mr. Burnhope. Well, he would leave her with her secret, but he was determined to find out just who she was. If she was a relative of Lady Sears, she was obviously a female of quality, and why she was travelling to London unescorted and dressed as a man, he could not imagine.
Under the circumstances, Lord Lyndhurst undressed down to his breeches and climbed into bed. He lay on his side, propped up on his elbow and watched his mysterious lady as she pretended to sleep. Her auburn hair was severely tied back in a queue, and she had a small mole above her left brow. She certainly made a pretty lad and he was not surprised that the young bucks on the stage had picked on her. He imagined her with her hair arranged softly around her face and wearing feminine garb and came to the realization that if she did not have those unfortunate moles on her nose and chin, she would most certainly be an attractive young woman.
He leaned in closer and Penelope stirred uncomfortably as she sensed his proximity. Her right hand tightened on the pistol under the pillow, ready to use it if necessary. To her relief she sensed him move back again, quite unaware that he had examined those moles and had concluded that with the exception of the small mole above her left brow, the others were most definitely fake. He lay at his elbow watching her for a long time, amused at the knowledge that she was awake and that he was making her uncomfortable. She was definitely an enigma. He decided that he would offer to escort her to London and make sure she arrived safely. Maybe on the way she would open up and explain to him this ridiculous masquerade.
The next morning Lord Lyndhurst washed, dressed and crossed over to the bed to wake ‘Mr. Penistone.’ He would give her some space to ready herself for her journey. He needed to go and check on his post chaise anyway to ensure that it had been repaired. Penelope was grateful for the time afforded her to get ready. Lord Lyndhurst has been true to his word and had proved to be very inconspicuous, but she had not forgotten the deep stirrings she had felt the night before when he had touched her hand. She had to get away from this man as soon as possible, for she realized that she was at great risk of falling for his charms, something she vowed she would never do again.
Half an hour later, she found Lord Lyndhurst sitting in the breakfast parlour. She really had no alternative but to sit next to him. It would have been rude to do any other. Besides, Mr. Burnhope and his friends were there, somewhat subdued, being rather the worse from a night of heavy drinking. At least she learned that they were at the end of their journey and would not be accompanying them on the stagecoach, which was a relief. Lord Lyndhurst smiled at her. ‘Good morning, Mr. Penistone. I take it you slept well?’
She sat down beside him. ‘Very well, Lord Lyndhurst. I thank you.’
Lord Lyndhurst cut the top off his boiled egg and looked at her profile. ‘Perhaps Mr. Penistone, you would like to consider continuing the rest of the journey with me. I can assure you it will be much more comfortable.’
Penelope gave a start, half in surprise and half in dismay. The proposition was very tempting, but she could not afford to allow herself the company of this alluring and attractive man. She could not fathom his motives or why he would offer to assist a perfect stranger. She did not want to trust him and she did not know if she could trust herself. She would have to ignore the desires for her own comfort and the possibility of further complications if she continued alone, and turn him down. ‘Besides, she knew that if she was in his company for very long, he would discover her secret. No, it was better this way.
‘You have been very kind, Lord Lyndhurst, and I am sincerely grateful, but I cannot impose on your good nature anymore than I have already,’ she replied with regret.
‘Lord Lyndhurst raised his brows; he had not expected a refusal and he spent the rest of his breakfast persuading her in every possible way to accept. However, she was steadfast in her decision and there was no changing her mind. He looked at her earnestly with his penetrating blue eyes. ‘I cannot force you to accompany me Mr. Penistone, but remember that my invitation still stands. If you need me, you have my direction.’
Penelope thanked him. She did not intend to visit him, but it would have been impolite to say so. Lord Lyndhurst saw her to the stagecoach and said farewell. It was with a heavy heart that he climbed into his own conveyance to continue his journey. There was no doubt about it, she was a stubborn wench, but he could not force her against her will. At least he had her direction and decided that a visit to her Aunt Sears in Bruton Street might just be the thing. He would call on his Godmother for her assistance. Being a friend of Lady Sears, his Godmother’s visit would not seem in any way out of the ordinary.
His mysterious lady had stirred in him a feeling of chivalry and aroused his curiosity. He found himself dearly wishing to know who she was and why she was travelling the length of the country on her own. She had refused his assistance, but he could ensure that she would not have to endure the attentions of the Mr. Burnhope’s of this world for the rest of her journey. He enquired of the
Coachman as to the overnight stops. He would go ahead and ensure her comfort, paying any extra that was required for a room of her own and she need never know a thing about it.
Chapter 6
Penelope arrived in London without further incident, unaware of Lord Lyndhurst’s support, but with risk of discovery every step of the way, the journey had still been arduous. It was with much relief that she arrived on the doorstep of her Aunt, Lady Pamela Sears in Bruton Street.
Falstaff, the butler opened the door and hesitated as he scrutinized the tall, slim youth in front of him. ‘Good evening Falstaff,’ Penelope announced in her own voice. ‘Can you let my Aunt know that I have arrived and instruct someone to bring in my luggage?’
Falstaff’s countenance never wavered and only the keenest of observers would have witnessed the imperceptible move of his eyebrow. It took a few moments for recognition to dawn, but he gave no outward reaction as he stood aside to allow Penelope to step into the hall. ‘Good evening, Lady Winterbourne,’ he acknowledged. ‘Her lady-ship is expecting you; I will escort you to the drawing room and arrange for the footman to collect your trunk.’
Lady Sears rose out of her chair as Penelope entered, but stopped short on observing her appearance. ‘Good Lord Penelope, what on earth are you wearing?’ she gasped in consternation. Penelope stepped forward and kissed her Aunt on the cheek. ‘Why, Aunt, they are just breeches.’ Lady Sears retreated to her chair. ‘Oh goodness! Let me sit down and fetch my smelling salts from off the dresser, I feel rather faint.’ Penelope obediently did as she was bid and waved the smelling salts under her aunt’s nose, feeling a little guilty at the distress she had caused. When her Aunt had recovered sufficiently, she looked up reproachfully. ‘Dear me, I hope nobody saw you arrive dressed like that, and please tell me that you have brought your gowns, Penelope!’
Her aunt must truly have been distressed, as she had resorted to using her Sunday name. To her Aunt, she was just plain Penny. ‘Do not take on so, Aunt,’ she replied. ‘I do not intend to masquerade about London dressed as a man, so you can rest easy.’
‘Thank the merciful Lord!’ her Aunt retorted. ‘I do not think that even my reputation would survive such a travesty. What were you thinking of, my dear?’
Penelope sighed. ‘I am truly sorry Aunt, but I thought I would have a safer journey dressed this way, but unfortunately it just brought me a whole set of new problems. I promise that I will return to my skirts.’
Lady Sears, somewhat pacified at this assurance, instructed the maid to escort Penelope to her room so that she could freshen up before dinner. After parading in breeches for five days, Penelope was relieved to change into one of her gowns, and after carefully removing the fake moles, she felt almost human again. She did not know how she was going to explain to her Aunt that she was not quite ready to abandon the persona of Mr. Penistone completely, but she would cross that bridge when she came to it. She would need her disguise to gain admittance to Angelos, and that, she was determined to do. She had not forgotten her resolution to learn the skills of fencing and self-preservation. Unaware that Lord Lyndhurst had paved her way for a smooth journey, she closed her eyes and whispered determinedly under her breath. ‘I have reached London by myself. Never will a man get the better of me again.’
*****
Penelope’s first task on arriving in London was to write to the House of Lords to request an interview. She would need to abide her time and await a reply. Her aunt, like most of the London ton rose at midday, so Penelope took advantage of the mornings to creep out of the house dressed as Mr. Penistone to attend Angelo’s fencing academy. As she entered her name in the subscription book, she was nervous and anxious in case her masquerade was discovered. The secretary, however, accepted her without question and booked her in for a number of lessons. As it worked out, mornings were a very good time to attend, as Angelo’s academy was not so busy. Most of the gentlemen of the ton, like her aunt, were still in bed after spending late nights gaming in Whites, Brookes, Boodles or some similar establishment in the precincts of St James Street and Picadilly. She surmised that the fewer the men she met the better, as it lessened the risk of exposure.
She had been in London for a week when she received an appointment to meet with Lord John Scott, The Earl of Eldon and Chief Justice of Common Pleas.
She decided to walk to her destination for the exercise, and her route to Westminster took her along the Albemarle Street and through St. James Park. She had just exited the park and was walking along Birdcage Walk when she bumped into no other than Lord Xavier Lyndhurst, The Earl of Croxdale. She recognized him immediately and her heart missed a beat. She was annoyed with herself. Why did this man affect her so? She kept her head down; surely, in her skirts, he would not recognize her. However, she was too late. Lord Lyndhurst, although not identifying her immediately, felt a familiar stir of recognition and stopped her. ‘I beg your pardon, Madam, do I know you?’
Penelope nodded her head and was careful not to look at him directly. ‘I doubt it, sir. I do not think we have met.’ Lord Lyndhurst tipped his curly beaver hat and apologized for his mistake, but not before he noticed the small tell tale mole above her left brow and the emerald encrusted gold locket around her neck. He started in surprise. He had no doubt that he had bumped into the person of the mysterious Mr. Nathanial Penistone. He had been right, she was most attractive dressed in her skirts and he was inexplicably drawn to her. He stepped to the side and allowed her to pass, taking in every aspect of her countenance. Without her masquerade, she was smart, elegant and graceful, and had an unpretentious air.
After a moment’s hesitation, he called over two small urchins who were playing a game with some pebbles on the pavement. ‘Would you like to earn sixpence,’ he asked. Their eyes nearly popped out of their heads at the prospect of earning such a generous sum and they were more than willing to oblige. Lord Lyndhurst pointed to Penelope’s retreating figure. ‘I would like you to follow that lady and then report back to me and tell me exactly where she goes. I will give you both a penny now and a sixpence when you report back.’ He gave them his address. He had every confidence that they would remember it, for they would not forgo the prospect of sixpence, and he watched them as they hurried off to do his bidding. Penelope did not notice the two young boys as she entered Parliament and the office of The Chief Justice of Pleas.
As she entered his office, Lord Eldon stood up to greet her. He held out his hand. ‘Ah, Lady Winterbourne, what can I do for you?’ Penelope took a seat and came straight to the point. ‘Lord Eldon, I have travelled all of the way from Newcastle to petition Parliament for a divorce and I need your assistance.’
Lord Eldon frowned. ‘Lady Winterbourne, I am aware of your family and I thought you were a widow. You puzzle me greatly,’ he replied.
Penelope sighed. ‘It is a very long story, Lord Eldon. I will need to explain everything.’
Lord Eldon sat quietly while Penelope told her long story and at the end of her tale, she inquired of him. ‘Lord Eldon, can you help me? I am in dire straits.’
Lord Eldon was sympathetic. ‘In light of what you have told me, I believe that you have a legal case. Fraud is indeed a permissible ground for divorce, but as much as I believe you, I cannot take your word for it. The matter will need to be investigated.’
Penelope smiled at him. ‘I quite understand and I would appreciate anything you could do for me, Lord Eldon. If I fail in this, I am a woman undone. I have lost my income and my home. I had a lovely property in Charlotte Square and that despicable man has stolen everything from me under false pretences.’
Lord Eldon put his fingertips to his chin and smiled. ‘Ah, Charlotte Square, I believe that is newly built since I lived in Newcastle. I have heard of it, designed by the great architect responsible for the assembly rooms, I believe.’
‘Indeed Your Lordship, but I did not know that you lived in Newcastle.’
Lord Eldon smiled reminiscently. ‘Yes, a long time ago now. My
father was a coal merchant there and I married a local banker’s daughter. There was a lot of scandal at the time. Her father disapproved of our marriage and we eloped. Bessie lived in Surtees House on Sand Hill. She escaped out of the first floor window and we fled to Scotland. We got married in Blackshields near Fala. Ah, those were the days,’ he reminisced.
Penelope had not even been born at the time, but she had heard talk about it. ‘I know the house you mean, Lord Eldon. There is a coffee shop there now and I used to go there often.’
‘I have warm memories of Newcastle,’ he replied fondly, ‘and there is a beautiful coastline to the east if one can afford to venture out. Anyway, Lady Winterbourne, I see you are still using your previous name; I will do what I can and will contact you again when I have some news. If you leave me your direction, I will let you know.’
Penelope wrote down the address of her aunt in Bruton Street and advised Lord Eldon that she would reside there until she heard from him. She thanked him and took her leave, hiring a hackney carriage to take her back home.
*****
Lord Lyndhurst was sitting in his library in Bedford Square when Jessop his butler entered. ‘Your Lordship, the two young urchins you are expecting have arrived.’ Jessop ushered them into the library and they stood before Lord Lyndhurst with their dirty faces and bare feet.
‘Mr, we follered the lady like yer sed, and she went right into the Palace of Westminster. We cud not foller her in there, sir.’
Lord Lyndhurst smiled at the urchins and put his hand in his pocket. ‘No I am sure you could not, but you have both done well.’ He gave them a sixpence each, which they almost grabbed out of his hand, biting it to make sure it was real. ‘Cor, we’ve never seen a half hog afore!’ one of them exclaimed. Lord Lyndhurst felt compassion for them and turned to his butler. ‘Jessop, take them to the kitchen and give them some food and some lemonade.’
Lady Winterbourne's Entanglement: A Romantic Regency Adventure Page 6
