Lady Winterbourne's Entanglement: A Romantic Regency Adventure

by Miriam Rochester

  As Daniel left, Lord Lyndhurst stepped forward and examined Andy’s leg. ‘This injury needs more than a country doctor,’ he stated in authoritative tones. ‘He needs a competent surgeon. It looks like his assailant used a blunderbuss. I will go to Newcastle and purchase the services of the best.’

  Rosie was not convinced. The local doctor was competent and had carried out many a procedure, and what is more he would ask no questions. He would certainly be cheaper so she hesitated at the suggestion.

  Lord Lyndhurst sensed her hesitation and reassured her. ‘I do not know what is going on here and I shall not ask, but I will brook no argument. When the surgeon arrives, you can tell him what you like. You can say that this gentleman was shot in a hunting accident, or that he was cleaning his gun and it went off and I shall not contradict you, but he needs expert assistance. I shall be back as soon as I can. He picked his hat and gloves from off the table and walked across to Lady Winterbourne. ‘ La....I mean Penelope, will you please accompany me outside for a moment while I collect my mare, as I wish to speak to you.’

  Penelope, who all this time had been painfully aware of Lord Lyndhurst’s presence, was forced to face him. To be alone in his presence was to lose another chink in her defensive armour, but it would have been churlish to refuse him and especially in front of the others. She followed him to the door and he opened it to let her pass through. He turned to Nat. ‘Do not worry, I shall only keep her for a few minutes and I shall return in a few hours with the surgeon.’

  After he followed Penelope out and closed the door, Rosie turned to Nat. ‘I do not like it Nat, do you think the man can be trusted?’

  Nat seemed unconcerned. ‘Aye Rosie, I believe so. What is he going to do? He is no doubt suspicious, but he knows nothing and a man like that is hardly going to act without concrete evidence. Besides Rosie, have you not noticed, Lord Lyndhurst is in love. He did not spend the last few days scouring the countryside in search of Miss Penelope for no reason. I hardly think that he is going to risk losing her now by going to the authorities and implicating her in God knows what.’

  Rosie was struck by the fact. ‘And does Miss Penny love Lord Lyndhurst in return?’

  ‘According to Hannah, she does,’ he replied amiably, ‘but as yet she has not brought herself to admit it. We are going to have to do something to help Miss Penny rid herself of this ridiculous notion that all men are the enemy.’

  Andy groaned and their conversation was cut short. Hannah was at his head, giving him comfort and assuring him that the doctor was on his way.

  Outside, Penelope accompanied Lord Lyndhurst to the barn, a number of questions racing through her head. How had he found her? What was he doing here? And why could he not just leave her alone? She was not sure how much longer she could resist him. Nat must have told him that she was here, and the realisation that Nat could have betrayed her presence niggled her. When they had reached the barn, she angrily turned to face Lord Lyndhurst. ‘I do not know what you are doing here. I can only assume that Nat told you. I shall deal with him later as he had no business to do so!’

  Lord Lyndhurst ignored her outburst and to her annoyance, just smiled. ‘Oh, you cannot blame Nat. I knew you were in the neighbourhood, you gave yourself away yesterday on the bridle path. The presence of those fine black stallions was all the confirmation I needed. Those fine beasts are not farm horses. I would have returned and Nat knew that he was beaten. I would not be too hard on your groom, Lady Winterbourne. He is obviously a man of discernment, and good, loyal servants are hard to find these days.’

  Penelope bit her lip. Despite her annoyance, she knew that she would not discipline Nat, but that did not lessen her frustration and she took it out on Lord Lyndhurst. ‘Then, while you are here, I thank you to call me Miss Penny. I cannot have you revealing who I am,’ she snapped.

  Lord Lyndhurst smiled and drew her to him, fingering the coarse red hair of her wig. ‘Yes, you seem to go to great lengths to hide it. Very resourceful I am sure, but if you do not mind, I do not think I can bring myself to call you Miss Penny. I shall compromise and call you Penelope, that should serve your purpose and you can call me Xavier in return.’

  Penelope thought that using his Christian name was one-step too far if she was to keep her distance from this man. She was trying hard to do so, but failing miserably.

  ‘I do not think so, Lord Lyndhurst,’ she replied regretfully. ‘It is best that I do not.’

  Still with his left hand around her waist, he pulled her to his body and lowered his head to kiss her. He feathered soft kisses along her forehead and cheek, finally resting on her lips as he kissed her deeply. His hold was strong and his lips were soft, and her resolve wavered as she raised her arms to his shoulders and pulled a hand through the soft waves of his shoulder length hair. Penelope was lost as she felt the fast beat of her heart and waves of desire permeate her very being, and she responded with a passionate kiss of her own. Lord Lyndhurst pulled away. He gazed into her eyes fondly and spoke softly. ‘Penelope, I do not know what you are doing here and what clandestine operations you are involved in and I have no time to inquire, for I have an urgent task to perform. If we are to save that man’s leg I must not linger, but rest assured that I will be back. I would beg of you to be here when I return and not be tempted to bolt again. I have something that I wish to say to you.’

  Penelope looked up at him somewhat shaken from the encounter. ‘Yes, I will still be here when you get back, for these people are my friends and I have nowhere else to go.’

  He smoothed his hand across her cheek. ‘Good,’ he replied. ‘I will call to see you at midday tomorrow and we will take a ride together.’

  She watched him as he mounted his mare and disappeared down the lane. She was perplexed. When a man said that he had something he wished to say, it usually meant one thing, and Penelope was certainly not ready to enter into another marriage. She doubted that she could bring herself under the power of another man again, not even Lord Lyndhurst, no matter how irresistible he was, and she looked forward to tomorrow with mixed emotions.

  Chapter 15

  Lord Lyndhurst returned in the dawning hours with the surgeon. Everyone had gone to bed except Rosie. Nathanial had carried Andy upstairs to his room before he left, while he and Hannah slept in the barn. Shortly after Lord Lyndhurst had left, Nathanial had ridden out for the local doctor who had come and gone. He had done his best, but Lord Lyndhurst had been right, Andy’s leg needed much more skill than he could provide. The Newcastle surgeon arrived in the early hours of the morning and spent a good two hours operating before he announced himself satisfied. He was optimistic that Andy would make a full recovery and told them that he would call back in a couple of days to check up on the patient. Lord Lyndhurst paid him and escorted him to the door, then returned to the bedroom to bid farewell to Rosie.

  Rosie stood up. ‘I cannot thank you enough, Lord Lyndhurst. I am sure Andy will thank you himself when he is able, although I do not know how he will be able to repay you for such an expensive surgeon.’

  ‘I took it upon myself to engage him so I do not expect payment, Mrs Haldane,’ he replied. ‘I shall leave you now, but if you need me, you will find me at the Swan Inn. I am returning at midday to speak with Penelope, so I shall see you then.’

  Lord Lyndhurst took his leave, and having made a favourable impression, Rosie like everyone else, could not understand why Miss Penny’s was reticent to engage with him.

  *****

  The next morning they were all sat around Rosie’s table eating breakfast when Sam and Ashe arrived to ask after Andy. After catching up on the news, they explained how they had chased Captain Blackmore and his companion as far as the River Tyne, but then they had lost them. They suspected that the second man was Jem, for he was about the same size and build, and had familiar mannerisms, but they could not be sure because his face was covered.

  Rosie cursed. ‘Never mind, you tried your best. I am just pleased that neither of
you were hurt as well. Can you venture out and bring Jem to me. We need to confront him and end this nonsense once and for all. Tell him that we are to have an emergency meeting about an unexpected smuggling run. Tell him anything, but just get him here.’

  An hour later they returned. The unsuspecting Jem was quite jovial and hardly looked like a fellow who had been chased halfway across the countryside the day before. He looked around at all the sombre faces at the table. Nat had even ridden out to collect Mattie and Bart, so with the exception of Andy, all of Rosie’s men were present.

  Jem looked around him. ‘Why the long faces. Has someone died,’ he asked flippantly as he took the seat that was left to him.

  ‘No,’ Rosie snapped, ‘but it is no thanks to you! Andy is upstairs with serious leg injuries, so do you care to explain yourself?’

  Jem sensed that the atmosphere around him was far from friendly and that they must have discovered his association with Captain Blackmore, but he endeavoured to maintain his innocence.

  ‘I do not know what you are talking about,’ he replied. ‘Why, how did Andy get shot?’

  Sam spoke sharply. ‘Who told you that Andy has been shot? Rosie only told you that he had sustained a leg wound. Do not try to pull the wool over our eyes. Ashe and I chased you and Captain Blackmore halfway across the countryside yesterday. We are not fools.’

  ‘I just assumed,’ Jem faltered, realising that he had made a big mistake. ‘What is going on here anyway? I feel as if I am on trial.’

  ‘You are,’ Bart snapped. ‘You have been stealing from the Crypt, and as it is the only storage place you are aware of, you have been hijacking the rest when it has been on the move.’

  ‘Do not try to deny it,’ Ashe added. ‘We set a trap for you yesterday morning. You were the only person who knew about the drop destined for the Black Bull in Boldon, and you suddenly appeared out of nowhere, bang on schedule.’

  Jem squirmed in his seat. ‘It appears that in my absence, I have been tried and found guilty,’ he retorted. ‘I am not going to sit here and listen to this.’ He started to stand up, but Mattie grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him down again.

  ‘Not so fast, Jeremiah, You will listen to me and you will listen well. Do you remember the Hawhurst and Hadleigh Gangs in Sussex? They thought nothing of torturing their traitors, hurling them down wells to rot, or burying them alive. I have a mind to drag you down to the beach, bury you up to your neck in sand and leave the gulls to peck out your eyeballs. You will be begging for the tide to come and take you.’

  A look of fear entered Jems eyes as he looked around those assembled. No- one was smiling and he realised that Mattie was very much in earnest. Rosie finally lifted a hand. ‘I will have no violence here. Let the man go.’ She turned to Jem with sad disappointment. ‘I wish you to leave. You are no longer welcome in this house and if you do anything to jeopardise the welfare of this little group, I will let Matt have his way and you will suffer the consequences.’

  Mattie looked disappointed. ‘You heard what Rosie said, but do not deceive yourself. I will hasten to carry out my threat, if you give me the least bit of justification.’

  Jem stood up to leave and spat. ‘Do not worry; you will not be seeing me again. I am heading to Devon shortly with Captain Blackmore as soon as we have saved the fare. We will earn more money on just one of Napoleon’s guinea runs than I could earn here, even if I worked for another ten years.’

  The whole of the company looked shocked. It was well known that smugglers were transporting gold across to France to finance Napoleon’s army and acting as spies along the way, but who would have guessed that Jem would wish to be part of such a traitorous undertaking.

  Rosie sighed. She thought of Andy lying upstairs with serious injuries because of Jem’s betrayal. If Jem could betray his friends, he could certainly betray his country. The men looked thunderous and Penelope, who had sat as a mere observer was totally shocked. Jem decided to make an exit while he still had the chance. Mattie and Bart looked ready to kill him there and then, and Daniel, Sam and Ashe looked eager to assist. One look from Rosie held them back.

  The company dispersed leaving Penelope restless. She was not unaware of the potential for violence, her experience on her first smuggling run had taught her that, but it was the first time that she had heard such graphic intimidation. She was sure that Mattie had not been bluffing when he had made his threats and the mental picture of Jem’s potential demise chilled her. It was her first indication that free trade was not the romanticised occupation many believed, and that the violent reality was never very far away. She had spent many an hour with Hannah, who had related stories of the various smuggling gangs down south and their penchant for violence, but it did not occur to her that it could happen here in Rosie’s small circle.

  Still, Penelope had more to worry about, since Lord Lyndhurst had promised to call at midday. It was nearly that now and she was not sure how she was going to deal with him. She pushed the thoughts of this morning’s meeting from her mind and went out to the barn to saddle Cisco.

  Lord Lyndhurst called punctually at twelve o’clock as promised and Penelope had Cisco saddled and waiting. She wore one of her modest, practical gowns made of light grey wool that she had made herself, and it was certainly more suitable in her new surroundings. If Lord Lyndhurst expected her to be wearing a fine riding habit, he would be sadly disappointed. Lord Lyndhurst, however, did not bat an eyelid as he helped her mount the black stallion. He did not even comment on the fact that she elected to ride astride, but if he were to offer any criticisms, she was ready for him with a cutting retort. Much to her disappointment, Lord Lyndhurst, although he had undoubtedly noticed, mentioned none of these things. Instead, he patted his saddlebags and smiled. ‘The landlady at the Swan has provided us with a fine picnic luncheon. I think she has taken pity on me and taken me under her wing.’

  Penelope could not help but laugh at him. That was just the kind of thing that Pat would do, but she made a playful retort anyway. ‘I suppose you have wangled your way into her graces with your deceptive boyish charm. Shame on you, Lord Lyndhurst. You are a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Anyway, where are we going?’ she asked curiously.

  ‘I thought we might venture across the River Wear to Penshaw Hill. It is a beautiful spot with views over the Wear Valley.’ The hill was a bare mound littered with bushes and wild plants and a popular picnic spot, and was a destination now made possible by the construction of the new Wear Bridge, constructed only two years ago.

  As they made their way over the new iron bridge and into the township of Sunderland, Penelope began to relax, but Lord Lyndhurst was not deceived. His Lady still had a bee in her bonnet about something and he was determined to get to the bottom of it. He also intended to find out what she was involved in, although he could hazard a guess.

  After a couple of hours on horseback they reached Penshaw Hill. The pair guided their horses to the top and Lord Lyndhurst was right, for such a short climb, the views were astonishing.

  As Lord Lyndhurst laid out the picnic on a large woven rug, Penelope took in the magnificent views. The greenery was luxurious and abundant and the sound of bird song filled the air. The River Wear snaked its way through the valley to the west, weaving its own kind of magic and entrancing Penelope with its spell, and she could catch a glance of the sea to the east. Lord Lyndhurst interrupted her reverie as he patted the ground and invited her to sit on the blanket. He had removed his jacket and cravat and looked almost primal in his shirtsleeves. Penelope hesitated, she was alone with this man and very aware of his masculine presence. It did not seem so dangerous when she weaved her way through the township of Sunderland, but all of a sudden, in this isolated spot, they were very much alone. Her awareness intensified and a bolt of lightning shot through her very being.

  She sat down gingerly and Lord Lyndhurst, very much aware of her nervousness, offered her some wine. As the Earl chatted amiably and showed no sign of romantic intentions, sh
e began to relax. Noticing the strange rings that characterised the hill, she made a remark, wondering what they could be.

  Lord Lyndhurst, lying sideways on his elbow, watched her as she sipped her wine, and enlightened her. ‘They are believed to be the remains of the ramparts and ditches of an old Iron Age hill fort, but I prefer the explanation of the local legend,’ he explained.

  Penelope was curious as to what kind of legend could account for such a peculiar land feature.

  The Earl grinned mischievously. ‘At the time of the crusades they said that a dragon slept whilst coiled seven times around this hill, which is how the hill got its rings. It would come out at night and eat cows, sheep and small children. It was eventually slain by Lord Lambton, when he returned from the crusades. A local witch granted him success, but as payment, he would have to sacrifice the first living thing that came out of his house when he returned home. He arranged for his servants to release the dog, but they were so jubilant about the death of the worm that they forgot and his father ran out to meet him instead. As Lord Lambton could not keep his promise and kill his own father, legend decreed that three generations of his family would die unnatural deaths.’

  ‘Oh how silly,’ she laughed lightly, hardly crediting such a story.

  Lord Lyndhurst arched his brows and smiled. ‘You laugh, Penelope, but that is exactly what happened. The following Lord Lambton drowned at Newrigg. The second generation Lambton was killed at the battle of Marston Moor and the third generation Lambton died in his carriage crossing the Lambton Bridge in 1761. It only lent credence to the legend and fuelled its perpetuity.’