Lady Winterbourne's Entanglement: A Romantic Regency Adventure

by Miriam Rochester

  ‘A bath is what these two need, if you don’t mind me saying so.’ Jessop remarked as he wrinkled his nose and led the two excited boys away. Lord Lyndhurst just gave an absent-minded wave of the hand and frowned. He had other things on his mind. ‘What was his mysterious lady doing at the Houses of Parliament? It was a large building and unless she had signed her name in the visitor’s book he would have a difficult time tracking her down.

  Lord Lyndhurst, being a member of the House of Lords, had no trouble entering Westminster. He walked straight up to the visitor’s book and ran a long shapely finger down the entries. A Lady Penelope Winterbourne had signed an entry corresponding to the estimated time of her arrival. Being of the aristocracy, he was familiar with the name, but he did not know any of the Winterbourne family personally. He had some recollection of the young Earl of Rosslyn drowning off the Scottish coast over two years ago, but could not remember the details. Lady Winterbourne had an appointment with Lord Eldon, the Justice of the Pleas. Lord Lyndhurst knew Lord Eldon well and made his way to his office. Perhaps he could enlighten him further.

  Lord Eldon welcomed Lord Lyndhurst cordially. ‘Ah, Croxdale dear boy, to what do I own this most unexpected pleasure?’

  Lord Lyndhurst sat down in a chair opposite him. ‘I have come to enquire about the visit you had today from Lady Winterbourne. I met the lady on my journey to London and I got the distinct impression that she was in some kind of difficulty. I offered her my assistance, but she refused me and I still hope that yet, I may be able to do so.’ He omitted the detail that she had been masquerading as a man as he did not know if Lord Eldon would be entirely sympathetic.

  Lord Eldon eyed Lord Lyndhurst with interest. ‘Indeed, she is a most fascinating case, if I say so myself. Lady Winterbourne came to me as she wishes to petition Parliament for a divorce.’

  ‘Divorce!’ Lord Lyndhurst’s shoulders sagged in disappointment. So, Lady Winterbourne was married. He did not know why this knowledge should affect him, unless he was interested in the Lady himself, which up until now he had been unwilling to admit. Upon learning her name, he had assumed that she was the Earl of Rosslyn’s sister. He was disheartened at this news as he was inexorably attracted to her. His disappointment was only matched by his confusion. Why was she petitioning for a divorce if Lord Winterbourne had died two years ago? He suddenly realised that he wanted her, and the fact that she must have married again hit him like a thunderbolt.

  As Lord Eldon explained to him the lurid circumstances of her unfortunate second marriage, Lord Lyndhurst became angry. His blood boiled at the knowledge that such a beautiful young woman should be caught in such a trap. Lord Eldon described the details as they had been related to him, and Lord Lyndhurst, not ignorant of the implications, understood the vulnerable position Lady Winterbourne was left in. He was even more determined to render her all the help he could and offered Lord Eldon his assistance with the enquiry.

  Lord Lyndhurst left Lord Eldon with the knowledge he had been seeking. He now knew the identity of the mysterious ‘Mr. Penistone’ and the purpose of her journey to London. What is more, Lord Eldon had assigned him the task of heading the investigation, a task he accepted eagerly. He had made one request of Lord Eldon, however. He did not wish Lady Winterbourne to know that he was heading the enquiry.

  If he had his way, this Captain Blackmore would rue the day he had ever been born. Lord Lyndhurst still lived in the hope that as ‘Mr. Penistone,’ she would pay him a morning call, but realised that being a woman, she probably would not do so. He would wait a little while longer and if she failed to call, he would have no alternative but to seek her out at her Aunt’s house in Bruton Street, but that would need some planning.

  Two days later, Lord Lyndhurst was approaching Jackson’s parlour for a vigorous workout with Gentleman Jackson himself, when he witnessed Lady Winterbourne leave Angelo’s fencing academy next door. She was alone and dressed in her man’s garb. He was genuinely surprised, as he had not believed her when she had said she wished to attend the Academy. Crossing the threshold without discovery was a feat in itself and now that he was aware of her identity, he could not understand why no one else could see it. Those large warty moles certainly detracted from her beauty and her auburn hair was tied severely back and heavily powdered, but to him she could be no other than a female, a desirable one at that. The fact of the matter was that people saw only what they expected to see.

  Lord Lyndhurst bowed politely and grinned. ‘Why Mr. Penistone, how nice to see you again! I truly hope that the rest of your journey to London was uneventful.’

  Penelope looked into Lord Lyndhurst’s smiling, blue eyes and noticed his alluring smile and her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. She would have to resist this devastatingly handsome man. Her senses were overwhelmed by his proximity and her mind reeled. She took a step back. ‘I thank you, Lord Lyndhurst. The journey was tiresome, but I arrived in London unscathed, as you see.’

  ‘And how do you find your fencing lessons?’ he enquired. He could not imagine her coming off victorious against any of the male opposition, especially in view of the fact that she was a novice, and he was curious as to how she was progressing. He made a mental note to find out when her next visit was and arrange to attend at the same time.

  In the spirit of sheer devilry, Lord Lyndhurst decided to tease her. ‘I am just about to enter Jackson’s Parlour. Would you care to join me and engage with me in a bout?’

  Penelope gasped in horror. She was well aware that they stripped down to the waist in Gentleman Jackson’s, either that or to their undergarments. Boxing was a contact sport and the whole idea was out of the question. Lord Lyndhurst watched her closely as he awaited her reply. ‘I thank you, Your Lordship, but I must decline as I have an urgent appointment.’

  Lord Lyndhurst smiled to himself. She had extricated herself from a tricky situation admirably and he had to admire her enterprise. ‘Perhaps another time then, Mr. Penistone,’ he replied.

  ‘I do not think so,’ she returned quickly. ‘I have no interest in Pugilism. I much prefer the more scientific skills of sword fencing.’ Penelope did not know it, but she had just committed the worst of transgressions and by doing so, she had given herself away. No self-respecting young man would have admitted to such a thing. The prospect of sparring with Gentleman Jackson or attending a prizefight was the height of any young man’s aspirations. ‘You may be surprised, Mr. Penistone,’ he returned. ‘Boxing is a very precise and disciplined sport and most technical indeed. You should not criticize it until you have tried it, but maybe some other time when you do not have an appointment.’

  Penelope politely inclined her head. ‘It has been pleasant to meet you again, but you must excuse me or I shall be late.’ Lord Lyndhurst stepped aside to let her past. ‘Of course, Mr. Penistone, and do not forget that my invitation is still open, should you feel inclined to pay a call.’

  He watched as Mr. Penistone retreated down Bond Street and disappeared around the corner with what he would have described as a practised gait. A credible imitation, but not quite fooling him. He abandoned his plan to go into Jackson’s Parlour and went into Angelo’s Academy instead.

  The concierge raised his head as Lord Lyndhurst entered. ‘Ah Croxdale, it is rather early in the day to expect a visit from you?’

  ‘I am not staying Freddie,’ he replied. ‘I have just come to enquire about the young gentleman who has just left.’

  ‘Ah, that would be the young Mr. Penistone, our newest member. He has quite a talent if I say so myself. He lacks strength of arm, but he is young yet. One has to say, his dexterity and poise are quite remarkable.’

  Lord Lyndhurst raised his dark brows in surprise. ‘Indeed, I must witness this talent for myself.’

  ‘Do you know the young gentleman then, Your Lordship?’ Freddie asked curiously.

  ‘We are acquainted; I look forward to sparring with him. Can you tell me when he is next due to attend,’ Lord Lyndhurst enquired,
straining to look at the appointment book.

  Freddie smiled. ‘I don’t have to look at the book, Sir. Mr. Penistone arrives every day promptly at 10am and stays for two hours. He is a most eager and enthusiastic pupil. Angelo is optimistic about him and says that in a few months, he may even condescend to spar with the young man himself if he continues to progress in the same manner.’

  Lord Lyndhurst left Angelo’s Academy not quite knowing what to think. It was not every day that someone got to spar with the great Angelo personally. Lord Lyndhurst had done so of course, but being a veritable Corinthian, he was a seasoned fencer. With his curiosity aroused and his desire to see her again, he determined to visit Angelo’s tomorrow morning prompt at 10am.

  As Penelope’s skills grew, so did her confidence. Her wary attitude toward Lord Lyndhurst did not stem from a nervous fear of him, but from her reluctant attraction and the fear of exposure. Even if the man proved a paragon, which was highly unlikely, she was in no position to entertain him as a romantic prospect. It would be dangerous to allow her attraction to grow into something deeper. It was with great irritation therefore, that the following morning, her tutor introduced him as a suitable partner against whom she could practise her newfound skills.

  As they stood on guard, she looked into his handsome face, noting the determined jut of his strong chin and his confident air. He appeared amused about something, but she could not imagine what. She looked into his dark blue eyes. ‘You know Lord Lyndhurst, if I did not know better, I could swear that you are here just to torment me. Why do I get the impression that your presence here is no coincidence?’

  Lord Lyndhurst just gave a broad grin and laughed. ‘You are right, of course. After our first meeting in York and in the light of a lack of male relatives, I find myself feeling responsible for your welfare in this unscrupulous city.’

  ‘There really is no need,’ she retorted irritably. ‘I am well able to look after myself. After all, I am seventeen.’

  ‘Is that so,’ he countered. ‘I seem to remember you telling me you were eighteen. I know that I have arrived at the advanced age of 29, but I do not think that I am going senile quite yet.’

  Penelope cursed inwardly at her mistake and was annoyed. ‘Well, I may have said that because I was just a week away from my eighteenth birthday,’ she lied. ‘A week in neither here nor there, don’t you think?’

  Lord Lyndhurst accepted her spurious explanation with a raise of the eyebrow. ‘If you say so Mr. Penistone.’

  Why did Penelope get the feeling that the infuriating man did not believe her? She did not want to get into further conversation with him and stood on guard. ‘If you are ready Lord Lyndhurst, shall we begin?’

  After the preliminaries, the two launched into combat. Freddie was right. She was an apt pupil and had learned well in such a short time. She had mastered the basic concepts of the sport and all that was missing was the advantage of experience. He reluctantly admitted that she would make a worthy opponent for any young man who came through the door, but opposed to a seasoned swordsman like himself, she would soon come undone.

  She engaged him credibly until at one point they became locked in a brief embrace. Dark blue eyes glanced down into emerald green ones and she momentarily felt the heat of his body brush up next the hers. She pushed him away, but not before, she felt a wave of desire flow through her being. It unsettled her and her concentration wavered. They maintained a gentle pace for a good ten minutes until he decided to end it with a vigorous remise and pinked her on the shoulder with his foil. The pair made a final salute. ‘My congratulations Mr. Penistone, you have the making of a fine swordsman. I look forward to engaging with you again. I have not yet met you on the social scene, so perhaps I can invite you to Bedford Square this evening. I am having a small card party and you would be most welcome.’

  The last thing Penelope wanted to do was to enter London’s social scene. It could cause complications and worse still, alert Captain Blackmore to her presence in London. Neither could she bluff her way through a small card party with a number of other gentlemen. She was compelled to decline. ‘I am afraid my aunt has arranged a small card party of her own and I have been requested to attend, so I must refuse your kind invitation,’ she lied. This was the second lie within the space of half an hour and it did not come easy to her. Lord Lyndhurst was certainly persistent and her masquerade of Mr. Penistone was becoming increasingly stressful. She decided to give Angelos a miss for the next couple of days in the hope that he would tire and give up seeking her out. The truth was that she would dearly have loved to see him again, but it was just too dangerous and she adamantly refused to forget her vow. She would not allow herself to become distracted from her quest for independence and self-autonomy.

  Chapter 7

  However, Lord Lyndhurst was not one to give up. If he could not reach the impenetrable Mr. Penistone, he would just have to gain an introduction to Lady Winterbourne, besides, he was eager to meet her in her true persona. He had only seen her once, on the day she had met with Lord Eldon, and that was only briefly. He would visit his godmother, Lady Allerdyce, and ask for her assistance. She was a friend of Lady Winterbourne’s Aunt, so perhaps he could accompany his godmother on a morning visit.

  Three days later, Lord Lyndhurst stepped into Lady Sear’s drawing room. As Falstaff made the introductions, Penelope endeavoured to keep her composure. What was The Earl of Croxdale doing in her Aunt’s drawing room? Lord Lyndhurst looked across to where she was seated. She had schooled her features admirably, but her initial reaction had not escaped him. Indeed, he had received an inward bolt himself. She was more beautiful than he had imagined. Her hair was too short to be worn in a fashionable style, so she had styled it with loose ringlets framing her face. The vivid green of her muslin day dress brought out the emerald green of her bright, intelligent eyes, and except for the attractive small mole above her right eyebrow, there was no sign of the two unsightly discoloured warts belonging to Mr. Penistone.

  Lord Lyndhurst turned to his host. ‘Ah, Lady Sears, I believe you have your grandson, Mr. Penistone staying with you. I had the pleasure of meeting him on my journey here from Newcastle. I have come to pay my respects to him and perhaps invite you all to the Vauxhall Gardens tomorrow night. I have hired a supper box and you would all be most welcome.’

  Lady Sears may have been a quiet, disarming soul, not the sort to gossip and engage in the latest on dits, but she was as sharp as a needle, and she recognised that he must have met Penny when she had been dressed in that ridiculous male garb. She threw her niece a withering look that was not lost on Lord Lyndhurst. He glanced back at Lady Winterbourne and grinned impishly at her obvious discomfort. Lady Sears quickly rallied. ‘I am sorry to disappoint you, Lord Lyndhurst, but Mr Penistone has returned home and I only have my niece, Lady Penelope Winterbourne staying with me now. Let me introduce you.’

  Having sufficiently recovered, Penelope stood up to greet her Aunt’s guests. As Lord Lyndhurst bent over to kiss her hand and savour every inch of her, she felt the familiar spasm of desire. It was the same feeling she had experienced when he had touched her hand at the White Swan in York, and the same feeling she had experienced when she had sparred with him at Angelos. Each time she saw him, she felt the conflicting emotions of desire, delight and annoyance, closely followed by the feeling of abject despondency. If only she had met him in another place and another time, but life was never that easy.

  After the customary thirty minutes, in which Lady Allerdyce shared some gossip with her old friend, and Lord Lyndhurst secretly absorbed every fine detail of his mysterious lady in her feminine garb, they took their leave, but not before securing an acceptance to their invitation to join them on a visit to Vauxhall Gardens the following evening. Mrs Theresa Bland, the ever-popular ballad singer was to perform in the gardens that night. She was a dumpy little thing, but she had a strong, sweet and melodious voice and people flocked to see her. The evening was to culminate in a spectacular
fire display.

  As soon as the drawing room door closed behind them, Penelope turned on her Aunt aghast. ‘Goodness Aunt, why did you accept the invitation? You have never attended such things!’

  Her Aunt looked almost apologetic, but not quite. She had not quite forgiven Penny for placing her in an awkward position regarding Mr. Penistone and the humour of Penelope’s discomfort was not lost on her. Lord Lyndhurst had obviously not recognised her, so all was well. Lady Sears gave her niece a mischievous twinkle. ‘Ah well,’ she sighed. ‘I did it for you. I thought you would like to go. You have been a most delightful companion to me, but you need to socialise with some younger people, my dear, and Lord Lyndhurst is a very charming gentleman.’

  Penelope gasped. That was just the problem, he was too charming and she was at great risk of falling for him, something she had vowed not to do. She could hardly explain to her Aunt the extent of her acquaintance with him, that they had spared together at Angelos or that they had even shared a room together in York, however innocuously. Her dear Aunt would have been totally shocked.

  It was with great dismay that at 7pm the following evening, Penelope, dressed in a gown of mauve satin decorated with white pearls and a matching pearl necklace descended the Whitehall steps to alight the ferry that would take them across the Thames to Vauxhall. Lord Lyndhurst had invited no other guests and she realised that, as the evening progressed, the two of them would be thrown together. As the ferry pulled away from its moorings, Penelope had the fervent desire to run, but it was too late. Her only consolation was that Lord Lyndhurst had given no sign of having seen through her masquerade. She looked to the sky for inspiration; even so, she knew that for the whole of the evening, she would be living on her nerves.