by Sandy Raven
She then wrote two short notes, one to Elise, the other to Lia, asking them over for tea the next day to discuss the invitation again. Hopefully Elise had come to a decision. But whether she did or did not, Beverly would have to wait until tomorrow to find out.
* * *
The maid closed the door to her drawing room and Beverly poured tea for herself and her two dearest friends. She filled the china cups to the perfect level of one third of an inch below the rim, leaving the right amount of room for two spoons of sugar, and a dash of milk should her guests wish it.
Some habits stuck with you throughout life, such as this one—even though she knew neither Elise nor Lia took milk in their tea.
She remembered when she was a child, how one of her early governesses tried to instill in her the requirements for being the perfect hostess. She’d been the first of a long succession of governesses her papa had hired to raise Beverly with the proper skills to find her future husband—something he could not do himself, as he was frequently away doing his work as a diplomat. This particular woman was a very strict disciplinarian, who’d lasted barely three months. The day Lord Hepplewhite found his daughter in tears after the lesson on stirring tea in the cup without sloshing, splashing, or spilling, her dear papa had fired that first governess.
Truth was, Beverly had been tired of practicing her pouring, serving, stirring, and whatnot, that she had become bored to tears, quite literally. She’d much rather have been out riding her pony. And ever one to jump on an opportunity to turn something tedious into something more exciting, Beverly had heard her father enter the house and thus began her display of theatrics. Yes, she’d been a manipulative brat as a child. One who’d craved the affection and attention of her only parent.
Then she met the twin of her heart, Elise Halden. From that day forward she and Elise had been inseparable. Elise was like a sister to her, and Lia had become her best friend almost the instant she met the duchess. They were fortunate in that their husbands also got along. As a young lady of noble birth, but without much family of her own, Beverly was grateful this family had taken her in and made her one of them.
She handed Elise her cup and saucer. She couldn’t read her expression, and Beverly thought she still might have to convince Elise that she will watch over Charlotte—over all the girls—as if they were her own. Now that she decided that it would do Penelope good to go to Rathcavan, she thought having Isabel and Charlotte along would help her daughter face Mr. Santiago again. Even if her daughter thought she had already dealt with the heartache, Beverly knew that just seeing the object of her past desire with another young lady would be painful. Hopefully, her friends’ support through the reopening of that old wound would ease the pain of it. And perhaps Penelope would discover that the old wound was not so painful after all. Beverly could only hope. But she wanted her daughter’s friends along just in case they were needed.
Beverly thought she saw Elise smile but it was such a faint smile tucked away in her light brown gaze, she wasn’t sure. Handing her the cup and saucer, Beverly had to ask. “Have you decided, Elise?” She tried to keep her voice free of any trace of happiness, at least until she knew what her friend’s decision would be.
“I have,” Elise replied. “As I said yesterday, I wanted to discuss this with Michael. He is fine with Charlotte being away for a month.”
Lia set her cup down. “Good, now we can all make arrangements for the girls. As I suspected, Ren insists that Isabel’s guards travel with her, and I can accept that. And though I haven’t asked Marcus yet, he will go if I insist.”
A great relief washed over Beverly. “I believe the girls will have a very nice time, Elise. And if they decide they wish for me to stay and not visit Henrietta Ormelee, I am more than willing to spend the entire time at Rathcavan.” She glanced at the door behind her to make sure it was still closed. “I cannot tell you how relieved I am that Isabel and Charlotte will be with Penelope when she sees Mr. Santiago again. She will surely need their support.”
“I hope you are right in thinking she can handle the shock of seeing him with her cousin,” Elise said. “It would have torn me up inside to see Michael with another woman.”
“It did,” Beverly said. “Remember the punch incident at the theater?” Beverly reminded Elise of the night they both went to the theater with Kip and Captain Wilson. Kip was Elise’s escort that night, and their foursome, along with Captain Wilson’s sister, arrived to the Caversham box, only to find Michael already there with Lady Caroline Randolph and her mother. What ensued later was something Kip and Beverly still found humorous, twenty-two years later. As Elise tells the story, it was an accident bumping into Michael as he held drinks. And as Michael tells it, he did whatever he needed to do to get Elise alone.
“Oh,” Elise twisted her lips in contemplation. “You are correct, but I was incredibly tough. And I’m afraid… I’m afraid that Penelope’s heart will break all over again seeing…
“You needn’t fear that Penny’s heart could break more than it already did when the man she was growing to love disappeared from her life without a word as to where he was going, or whether he would return. Nothing.” Beverly hoped she was right about this. If she was wrong it was her daughter’s heart that would break again. And she, Penelope’s mother, would be responsible.
“In a way,” Lia said softly, “this could be just the sort of ending she needs—a finality, if you will.”
Elise set her cup on the table and added her sugar. “Have you reconsidered not telling her about her cousin’s betrothal? And, more importantly, who the groom is?”
Beverly sighed and closed her eyes, wishing there was some way around this one issue. But there was not. “I’ve given this some thought. Remember, we’re speaking of my dearest and only child. Would it hurt less to know who her cousin is marrying before they marry, or after the wedding? And, I believe she should know beforehand. If it were me, I would want to know. Too, I would never consider putting her through this if I didn’t think it might help her to move forward with finding another man to love.”
“I hope you’re both right,” Elise said.
The sound of their daughters entering the front door of Beverly’s Mayfair home reached her ears. It was an almost exuberant, chattering sound—something Beverly hadn’t heard from her daughter in a while. It had been normal up until a year ago. Very normal.
“Do we tell them about the trip now?” Lia asked, looking toward Elise and Beverly for agreement.
“I don’t see why not. Waiting until she and I are alone would mean she would not have her friends to help her through any upset. If she were to get upset. What do you think, Elise?” As she asked this, Beverly heard the girls’ progress up the steps. Soon, they would be at the door to the drawing room, and the fact that it was closed might arouse suspicion because Beverly usually kept doors open in warm weather.
She stepped to the door and set her hand on the knob. “Shall I invite them in? And do we tell Penelope now?”
Only after both her friends agreed, did she open the door, just in time to see her daughter leading both Isabel and Charlotte to the library across the hall.
Greeting the girls with a smile, Beverly said, “Penny, when you’re done there, can you girls come in here a moment?”
“Certainly,” her daughter replied. “I was just going to get a book for Charlotte.”
Penelope had become reserved, even reclusive during the past year. Before her great disappointment, Penny had been an outgoing, smiling, happy young lady. One who enjoyed being with people, going to balls, the theater, and other events.
Beverly wanted to mend her daughter’s heart. If Mr. Santiago had any feeling—even one tiny bit—for Penny, he would explain his actions and apologize. Penelope deserved at least that much.
And Beverly would have to make certain that she stayed close by when the two met again. Because it was bound to stir painful feelings, no matter what her daughter might say to the contrary.
&nb
sp; A few minutes later, the three girls entered her morning room, Isabel and Charlotte sitting in the Chippendale chairs across from the settee where Elise and Lia sat.
“What are we being called in for?” Penelope leaned a hip against the arm of the chair where Charlotte sat, flipping through the pages of the book she’d just retrieved. “If it’s because we jumped the bench in the park, I promise we didn’t know there was a man sleeping on it until…” The gasp from the mothers forced Penelope to lift her gaze from the pages. “Oh…” Penny closed her mouth in a very dramatic fashion when she realized her mother didn’t know about her jumping in the park. She straightened and explained, “Our approach was from the rear, so we didn’t see the man on the bench at all.”
“I know you ladies enjoy riding when there aren’t the crowds in the park,” Elise said. “Your mother and I adored it as well. But maybe you should refrain from jumping. Save that for the country. Falling out of a sidesaddle, wearing skirts… It’s so undignified. Take it from me.”
Beverly choked back a laugh. She and Elise had done the same thing, jumping those benches in Hyde Park, and she could hear Ren’s voice now, admonishing them for their antics.
“No, we hadn’t heard about the man sleeping on the bench,” Beverly said.
“He never woke up,” Charlotte chimed in. “And when we were on our way back to the mews, he was sitting upright, so he wasn’t dead.”
“I see I must have a word with your grooms,” Lia said.
“Please no, mama,” Isabel said. “We’re leaving in a few days.” Lia’s daughter turned a worried glance to all three mothers. “If someone hasn’t reported on our jumping in the park, why have you called us in? Have the papers said we’ve done something else? I assure you, we…”
“Not at all, Isabel,” Beverly replied. With a glance to her friends, Beverly went on. “I would like to know if you three would like to accompany me to Aunt Adina’s birthday celebration and hunt this October.”
“You mean, I can bring Isabel and Charlotte?” Penny’s amber-brown eyes started to glow with excitement. She explained her delight to her friends. “I haven’t been to Rathcavan since we’ve come out. My great aunt has prime horseflesh in her stables and there’s a hunt of some sort almost every day. Well, weather permitting. After all, it is in Scotland in autumn.”
“Oh, it doesn’t rain every day,” Beverly said. “It just seems that way.”
Excitement began to well up in the three young ladies. She was encouraged that Penelope was interested in attending, though that was likely to change the moment her daughter knew what she’d not said thus far. “Lady Adina’s birthday celebration is the first weekend of our arrival, and there is likely to be a party of some sort to commemorate her seventy-fifth birthday.”
Penelope could barely hide her excitement. “Having my dearest friends will make the obligatory trip north to papa’s relatives so much more interesting for me.”
This was the daughter she remembered from before last spring. This was her normally effervescent Penny. She hated that she had to reopen her old wound.
Beverly again glanced at Elise and Lia, drawing her strength to proceed from her friends. “And, as if that is not enough, it seems the new earl’s sister, your cousin Olivia, has become engaged to marry. There will be a ball celebrating the betrothal on the weekend before we return home.”
“That’s nice for her,” Penny said in an off-handed fashion, then immediately, and excitedly starting talking about early morning fox hunts with Charlotte and Isabel.
“You might want to hear all that your mother has to say, Penelope, before making plans to hunt each day,” Lia advised.
Penny then returned to her task of flipping pages in the book, still searching, or pretending to search, for something irrelevant to the discussion before them. “What more is there to know,” she said with an indifferent tone and dismissive manner. “Olivia is getting married. Good for her. I hope her husband-to-be has an enormous amount of patience, and an even bigger purse. Because he’ll need both to have any happiness with her.”
“Penelope!” Beverly didn’t like correcting her daughter in front of her friends, but she had no recourse. She didn’t raise her daughter to be so mean-spirited about anyone.
“I can understand why you might be lashing out, but she is your cousin, and a sweet girl.”
“Mother,” her daughter continued, with the same disaffected tone, “she doesn’t like horses.”
“Not all women like horses as you all do, Penelope,” Lia said with a quiet authority and confidence that comes from being at ease with ones self. “I find them large and a bit… frightening.”
To Beverly’s ears, her daughter’s words sounded demeaning to all who didn’t have the passion for the hunt, or even riding in general. And that hurt Beverly as much as she was sure it hurt Lia.
“I think you owe your godmother an apology, Penelope. Now. That was uncalled for.” Beverly could see Penelope understood her meaning.
Lifting her gaze from the pages of her book, she gave Lia a sincere expression as she apologized. “I am sorry, your grace,” Penelope said. “I should not have spoken so broadly. My cousin is a lovely young lady with interests vastly different from mine, and I likely have not had enough time to get to know her as well as I do Charlotte and Isabel.”
“That is true, Penny,” said Beverly, herself nervous from having withheld the full story until now. “And I hope you’ll still want to come with me to Rathcavan after I tell you the rest of the news.”
“What news is that?” Penelope said as she returned to scanning the pages of the book she held, seemingly uninterested in anything her mother had to say now that she had her apology out of the way.
“The man that Olivia is marrying is someone known to you.” Her daughter lifted her eyes to her, and Beverly studied Penelope’s expression, and found no worry on her brow yet, but she knew for certain that it would change. “She is marrying a friend of her half-brother’s.” Penelope tilt her head with curiosity. It was a habit she’d learned from her father.
“She’s newly betrothed to a Mr. Nathaniel Santiago.”
Charlotte and Isabel sucked in a breath, recognizing the name immediately. For her daughter, though, the response she sought was there, even if only for a fraction of a second. And just as she caught that flash of recognition in her daughter’s eyes, it was gone. Hidden behind that wall of emotion she only shared with Isabel and Charlotte.
“That’s nice for the two of them,” Penelope said in that same disinterested voice, now tinged with bitterness. She resumed flipping through the pages of the book with an intensity that bordered on viciousness, searching for something of importance to show Charlotte.
She did her best to maintain her calm, knowing her daughter’s heart was likely breaking anew. “Do you still wish to attend the party?” Beverly asked. “It will mean one month in Scotland, in the presence of—”
Penelope stood and handed the book to her friend. “—In the presence of a man who obviously wasn’t worth the time I spent upset about his disappearance. He was such a coward that he didn’t have the courage to tell me he was leaving. He didn’t even send me a note.” After glancing down at Charlotte and Isabel, Penelope took a deep breath and said to Beverly, “I would love to go, Mama. I want to go for the hunt, to visit with my father’s favorite aunt. And I want to go especially to show the fickle Mr. Santiago that he didn’t break my heart. In fact, he hardened it to others like him.”
Her daughter gave her a forced smile, and Beverly recognized the false bravery behind the glow in her daughter’s eyes. She knew this because Penelope’s beautiful brown eyes were on the verge of filling with tears.
“You’ll see,” Penelope stated. “I am a much stronger woman than I was before I met him.”
* * *
THE END
Please enjoy a preview of the next book in the Caversham Chronicles, and the first book in The Titans of the Revolution, FATED LOVE, Coming later this
year!
CHAPTER ONE
* * *
October, 1842, Scottish Lowlands
* * *
Miss Penelope Fenwick, daughter and only child of the Viscount and Viscountess Huddleston, fought the rising panic inside as she held the door to her room open for her friend to enter.
“Well… If that wasn’t the most awkward welcome we’ve ever received, I don’t know what is,” Lady Charlotte Brightman, only daughter of the Earl of Camden whispered as she swept into Penelope’s rooms. “Emphasis on awkward.”
Penelope nodded in agreement. Placing a finger over her closed lips, she shut the door to her suite after allowing entrance to one of her two best friends in the entire world. She then pressed her hand to her belly, hoping to stop the butterflies from bursting forth. Penny never showed nerves on the outside, she kept them bottled within, releasing her anxieties in the privacy of her own bedchamber. It was something she’d had to learn early in her life. If her mother saw her upset, she would then become worried for her. And her mother had enough of her own worries with Penny’s father off somewhere in the northern territories of India. Penny didn’t want to add to her mother’s concerns.
Even before Penelope could reply, a second knock, just moments from the first, brought their friend Isabel into the room.
“I rushed right over after tossing my hat on the bed,” Lady Isabel Halden whispered. “I can’t believe what we just heard.”
“Same here” said Charlotte, as she gave Penelope an expectant gaze. “What on earth is going on?”
“You’re asking me as if I know.” Penelope felt herself trembling. “My great aunt just said that my cousin is not engaged to marry anyone, much less Mr. Santiago. But I read the letter Lady Edgar sent to my mother. She is planning to announce the betrothal during this house party, and…”
