“B-but this is unheard of,” Penny stuttered, blindly trying to find something to say which would break through her father’s insanity. “I’m your daughter too. You can’t just leave me here. I know you don’t love me as much as you love Charmaine, but you must feel something for me. Please don’t leave me.”
The last sentence was only a sob, but her father didn’t even blink. Instead he laughed—a hateful sound which scared her immensely.
“I will tell you two things, little Penelope de Vere. First, I have never loved you and have merely been putting up with you all these years as a possible source of income once you’ve grown up.”
His words were like knives, and Penny’s already bleeding heart was wounded over and over again. To sense his indifference was one thing, but to hear him admit it was devastating.
“And secondly, I’m not your father by blood. Nor am I Charmaine’s. Ah, that is a surprised little face. Something you didn’t know, eh? Your real father had an unexplained accident which killed him and left his wife alone with a small baby and another on the way. When I inherited the title, as soon as you, a mere girl, were born, I did what any decent man would do. I asked her to marry me. She was quite beautiful back then, you know. Your sister is nothing to what your mother once was. She reluctantly accepted, too caught up with having lost a husband, and having a toddler and an infant to take care of. I also made her promise never to tell you two who your real father was. A baby’s neck is so fragile, you know.”
The threat in his words was sickening, and Penny cried for her mother, who in her worst day of sorrow had been assaulted by this insane man. This explained so much, not just her father’s obsession with Charmaine but also her mother’s overbearing desperation when it came to her oldest daughter’s protection.
His triumphant laughter echoing through the grand room, her father turned his back to her and started for the door, and with one last attempt to save her life, Penny ran after him and grabbed his arm to force him to acknowledge her.
“Father, please don’t leave me here. Take me with you. Please…”
“Let go of me, you selfish girl. Can’t you think of anyone but yourself? Think of your sister and her virtue. Do you really want her to lose her innocence in the hands of a man like Lord Bolton?”
“N-no, of course I don’t,” Penny cried. “But I don’t want…”
Without forewarning Lord Nester growled and shook his arm free, at the same time shoving her backwards. Helplessly she flew across the room, hitting the side of her head against something hard. The last thing she saw before everything went black was her father disappearing through the doorway.
****
It was the pounding headache which woke her, and she threw herself to one side as her dinner came back up. She lay motionless until the retching eased, and then she opened her eyes.
The room she was in was dark. Only a small source of light originated from somewhere behind her, for which she was thankful, as her head hurt when her eyes met even the dim light.
Slowly she sat up, groaning. Her head felt ready to split in two. When the pain had faded enough for her to be able to open her eyes, she found herself on the largest bed she had ever seen. Despite the shadows, she could see that the room was filled with luxurious decorations.
For a moment she sat there bewildered, staring at all the lovely things. But then reality hit her, and with it the memory of her father’s words.
He had given her away to save Charmaine.
And hadn’t he admitted to not being her father? Her head seemed to work more slowly than ever, and it took her quite a while to remember it all. But as soon as she did, tears flowed down her cheeks.
The bastard. The lying bastard.
She put her hand against the side of her head where the pain was worst, and winced as her palm came away covered with almost-dried blood. The bastard had shoved her away and not even bothered to check whether she was still alive.
His brutal heartlessness stunned her.
This was the man she had for eighteen years thought of as her father. The man who had known her almost since the day she was born. And still she didn’t matter to him. To him she was nothing.
Angrily she wiped the tears off her face.
She had to stop this. He wasn’t worth it. With fierce determination she stood, wincing a little at the searing pain through her head.
First she tried the door handle, but as she had suspected it was locked firmly. Then she went to the windows to see if she could open them, but they too were locked tightly, and there was no one on the outside whose attention she could try to get, as the windows faced the top of the trees in the park beyond the lawn.
As she moved around the bed, she found another door almost hidden in the decorative wall paintings. Eagerly she opened it, only to find herself in a closet full of women’s clothing.
As she turned back to the bedroom with a disappointed sob, she found it wasn’t empty any longer. Three men stood inside the now open door—Lord Bolton and two men she guessed were his footmen.
“My, my, Lady Penelope. If one didn’t know better, one would think you were trying to escape from me.”
The footmen snickered over Lord Bolton’s joke, and Penny took a shaky breath. Don’t show him your fear, she thought, over and over again. Don’t show him your fear.
When she didn’t respond to his joke, Lord Bolton frowned, disappointed, and with a crooked finger he urged her to come to him.
“No.”
“Oh.” It scared her more than anything to see how pleased he seemed at her refusal.
“Maybe you’ll need a little push,” he continued. “My men are used to handling little girls like you, and I have to admit I do enjoy watching them. Their hands are not too gentle, and you will soon be aware of how easily you bruise…”
He didn’t continue, but she caught the meaning and paled. What had her father gotten her into? Was this the man she was supposed to do anything for?
“Unfortunately, I have a late-night appointment which I can’t miss, so you will have to wait for my return later tonight. Please try to sleep. It will be more fun for both of us if you have your full strength back.”
And with another snicker the three men left the room, and she heard them lock the door. She sank down onto the bed, wringing her hands desperately. What could she do? Falling asleep wasn’t an option, as she had no inclination to be handled un-gently by anyone and especially not by Lord Bolton and his men.
She took a few deep breaths and squared her shoulders. If she was going to be saved, she would have to make it happen by herself. No one but her family knew of her whereabouts, and she knew none of them would come back for her. Not that her mother and sister wouldn’t want to, but her father’s selfishness would never let them.
After thoroughly going over the large bedroom, she knew there was no way out of there other than the one door which Lord Bolton had locked, but she went into the closet in one last desperate hunt for salvation. Clothes covered all four walls, and she prayed that they also covered an escape for her that her keepers had forgotten about.
Not until she searched the fourth wall did she find a small door hidden behind golden dresses, and she almost fainted with relief. Holding her breath, she moved the tiny latch. To her utmost joy, the door opened and she tumbled into another large room, but this one was empty and clearly not in use. Carefully she rearranged the dresses so they covered the small doorway again. She closed the door firmly and wished she had a key so she could lock it.
She ran across the large floor and tried the door to the hallway, but to her disappointment it too was locked. Tears pricked her eyes again as she looked around the empty room. There was no other door and no other escape...
The windows caught her attention, and with one last desperate, hopeful prayer she went to the first one and tried to open it. With a lot of creaking, the window did as it was asked, and Penny almost yelled with relief as the cold, rain-filled air of the April night washed he
r face.
As she looked down the stone wall, she sent a silent thank you to Francesca who, as the wanton little girl she had been, had forced Penny to climb everywhere and learn to face her fear of heights.
This wouldn’t be too hard, she thought. She was just one story up, and the building was made out of stone in such a decorative way it closely resembled a stair for her. She might have to do a little jump in the middle, but then it wouldn’t be too far down to the ground. And if she broke a leg she could always drag herself over to the park and hide among the bushes.
Filled with a confidence born of desperation, she started her journey down the stone wall. It was a bit slippery because of the rain, but she managed to stay steady, and as her feet finally touched the pavement she fell to the ground exhausted.
She let herself have a few minutes to get some strength back and then quickly ran through the streets in what she thought was the direction of Berkeley Square.
Soon she stood outside her family’s townhouse, drenched from the pouring rain. She stood still, staring up at the dark windows, as it dawned on her that she couldn’t go home.
Her father would probably just send her back to Lord Bolton, and next time there would be no way for her to escape. The snickering footmen would make sure of that.
She turned and looked across the square toward the Darling townhouse, and she knew in her heart she had only one place she could go now—to Francesca.
A carriage came rushing down the street, and she hid in the shadows of the front door portal. As soon as the street was empty again, she rushed across the square. The rain pelted down much more heavily now, and as she reached the Darling townhouse, her dress was completely soaked and she was shivering with cold.
For a moment she hesitated outside the front door, but decided against knocking. It wasn’t as if she didn’t trust the Darling servants, but she was too worn out to face them, and there was also the risk of having to face Rake.
Instead she went around to the narrow alley leading to the stables and the private garden. All the doors at the back of the house were locked, but to her delight a ladder stood raised against the building almost where Francesca’s room was situated.
Penny took a deep breath and told herself it was nothing. If she could climb down the stone wall of Lord Bolton’s house, she should be able to climb a ladder. Ignoring the creaking, she slowly moved upwards until she stood on the small ledge below the windows of the second story. It took her only five shaky steps along the ledge to get to the first of Francesca’s windows, and with a tearful sigh of relief she knocked lightly on the glass.
It took four times and a knock hard enough to nearly shatter the glass before a sleepy-eyed Francesca peeped through the covering curtains. If she hadn’t been shivering so badly, Penny would have laughed out loud at the look on Francesca’s face.
Exhausted, she stood still, watching Francesca’s desperate attempts to open the window, but it wouldn’t budge. Her hands pulled and pulled at the handle, but nothing happened. The window was stuck, and Penny couldn’t stop the helpless tears streaming down her face with the rain.
So close, yet so far away.
All she wanted was to come inside to Francesca and safe haven. Too much had happened to her over the last hours, and she needed to renew her strength to be able to handle it all. She needed peace. She needed to sleep.
With determination written all over her pretty face, Francesca ran over to the fireplace and collected a poker. She motioned to Penny to push as she pried the window with her tool, and on the second joint attempt they succeeded. With a terrible crash the window flew open and knocked Francesca backwards, while Penny tumbled into the room in a big wet heap.
Before either of them had a chance to speak, the door to Francesca’s room burst open and the Earl of Newbury came storming through the doorway like an avenging Greek god, closely followed by most of the Darling family members.
They all stopped dead as they saw the soaked Penny on the floor beneath the open window.
“Penelope de Vere, what on earth are you doing here?” Lord Newbury hollered, with more anger than she had ever seen from him before, as he marched past her and closed the window with a bang. “Are you out of your bloody mind? This is the second floor you have entered. The second! What, of all stupid things in the world, could make you do such a bloody, idiotic thing?”
Lady Newbury, who wasn’t as hotheaded as her husband, put a soothing hand on his arm before she gave Penny a look full of compassion.
“How are you, my dear?” Her voice was full of motherly care, and Penny felt a lump build in her throat. New tears filled her eyes and with a sob she threw herself into Lady Newbury’s waiting arms.
“There, there,” Lady Newbury whispered into her wet hair, and it felt too good, almost too safe.
“I’m sorry,” Penny whispered through her tears, and Lady Newbury leaned back and caressed her cheek.
“Don’t be.”
“The second floor!” Lord Newbury puffed behind his wife, and Penny almost giggled as Lady Newbury rolled her eyes and sighed.
“You men, get out of here. This is for women only.”
“What? No, we too want to know…”
Lady Newbury, who usually seemed the most soft and graciously feminine woman there was, gave the men a hard stare that made them all take an unwilling step back. She didn’t have to repeat her demand, as the men left the bedroom, although under mumbled protest, as they all knew better than to challenge her.
Only one man remained inside the room—Rake.
He was clad in his breeches only, and his lean torso glistened in the mild candlelight. For once, his hair wasn’t combed perfectly, and his face looked more menacing than Penny had ever seen it. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought him a pirate, not a distinguished gentleman of the ton.
“You too, get out.” Lady Newbury’s voice was hard, and her whole being screamed she wasn’t going to discuss the matter.
Not that he cared. “No.”
Rake’s dark eyes never left Penny’s face, and she started to sob again. There was nothing in the world she wanted more than to throw herself into his arms and let him be the secure retreat she desperately needed in her time of distress. But he had been more than clear the day before, when he told her he wanted her as mistress only.
He offered her only passion, not comfort.
“Please,” she whispered to Lady Newbury, “Make him go away.”
“Now, Rake.” Lady Newbury chided as she let Penny go and stood to face her disobedient brother-in-law.
“I said no, I’m not leaving her.”
Rake’s voice shivered with rage as he took a step forward toward his sister-in-law.
But Lady Newbury had never let any of the Darling men patronize her, and with more force than anyone could have imagined possible from her smaller body, she shoved Rake hard in the chest. With a surprised look, he tumbled backwards, out through the door, and before he had a chance to regain his stance, Lady Newbury shut the door and locked it tightly.
“Now, let’s get you out of those wet clothes.”
A few minutes later Penny was dressed in one of Francesca’s thickest nightgowns and sat curled up under a thick blanket in the armchair next to the roaring fire. Slowly the stiffness in her limbs started to ease, and she closed her eyes with a contented sigh.
She heard Lady Newbury ring for Nell, who then immediately was sent for a tray with tea and something to eat. Not until a gentle hand caressed her hair did Penny open her eyes again.
“Here, please have some tea. You need to get the chill out.”
Numb, Penny took the teacup. As she nibbled on a warm scone, the older woman sat down next to her and looked at her sternly.
“First I want to tell you how climbing up to Fanny’s bedroom was, as my husband said, incredibly idiotic and extremely dangerous. I want you to promise me to never, ever, do something like it again.”
“Yes, my lady,” Penny whispe
red, knowing Lady Newbury had every right to be upset with her. She had after all not only put her own life at stake, she had—although unwillingly—terrified both her friend and her friend’s family.
“That said,” Lady Newbury continued, “I urge you to tell us what you have been through. Penny dearest, you have a bruise on the side of your face which didn’t happen by accident.”
It was too much too soon.
“Please,” Penny whispered. “Don’t make me tell you. I don’t want to think about it anymore. Can’t we just forget about it?”
“Penelope de Vere, I thought you knew me better than this. Of course I won’t let this be. You know I love you dearly, as you have always been more a sister, not merely a friend, to Fanny, and I promise you, my dear, I will not let you leave this house until I know what happened to you.”
“Mama, please,” Francesca begged. “You have to let Penny rest. Anyone can see she has gone through quite an ordeal, and I don’t think this is the time to force her to tell you anything.”
Ignoring her daughter’s outburst, Lady Newbury continued, “I will give you the choice of telling me alone, if you prefer. But I tell you this: if you don’t tell me, you will have to answer to both me and my husband first thing tomorrow morning.”
“Mama!”
“Fanny, don’t you see your friend has been handled quite roughly by someone? I can’t ignore that, and I am surprised that you insist that I do.”
“It’s all right,” Penny whispered to Francesca, knowing quite well Lady Newbury was right. She would have to tell them sooner or later. By choosing their home as her refuge, she had put them in an awkward position. They were not her legal guardians and had no right to let her stay without her parents’ consent, or to hide her from them.
“Could I speak to you alone tomorrow morning? I don’t think I can face…it…now. I-I need to sleep. Please?”
“You can come to my private rooms when you feel you are ready. I will send my husband away, if it feels easier for you to speak only to me.”
Never Had a Dream Come True Page 11
