by Abigail Agar
The only rub in the ointment, and there were always rubs in the ointment, was Cecilia’s nephew, Henry. Henry was twenty-five years old to Edward’s twenty-four years old. As cousins, they should have been close and kept in each other’s company. Instead, Edward wasn’t on speaking terms with him.
Cecilia, Edward, and Penelope gave Henry a wide berth. They all heard stories of his ‘hunting trips’ where he would go to his father’s hunting lodge and torture animals. His defence was always that he would kill the animals and eat them anyway. So what did it matter?
But it did matter. He never brought them home to cook and eat. He would shoot an arrow through the body of a rabbit, maiming it, but not killing it. Then, while it was still alive, twitching on the ground, he would dismember it. He liked to watch it writhe. He’d watch it slowly bleed to death. He did the same with deer, dogs, fox, cats, squirrels.
He did other despicable things that didn’t involve animals. He held a village boy’s head down in a horse trough, almost drowning him. He chased a small girl with a pitchfork for the crime of entering her father’s barn while he was inside. He bullied everyone in the village.
But no one could do anything about it. There were repercussions for talking about him, to anyone. The villagers were afraid they would be banished, and Cecilia was afraid Avery would cut them off financially and throw them out. None were idle threats. Edward could choose not to speak to Henry, but he couldn’t speak against him. Avery protected Henry, the next Duke of Somerset. He wouldn’t allow anyone to tarnish his name or the name of his heir.
At times, Cecilia felt like she made a bargain with the Devil. Of course, her situation was better than she could ever imagine. And Avery was good to her and her children. She was beyond grateful to him.
She walked on eggshells, though. One wrong sentence to anyone outside the family that painted Henry in a bad light was catastrophic. Cecilia found herself thinking she had an anvil over her head that could drop on her at any minute. It was unbearably stressful. She didn’t want Edward or Penelope to know how she felt. She didn’t want them to feel the same.
Henry had a temper. Cecilia heard once he became furious when he found out he wasn’t invited to a poker weekend hosted by a gentleman his age on a neighbouring estate. Henry knew the man, although not well. Henry wasn’t snubbed – he and this man were not friends and hardly knew one another. But he thought he was snubbed, and that was all that mattered to Henry. Henry had no friends.
While the gentlemen played poker inside, Henry snuck up to the house and took the family dog from the yard. He killed the dog in a gruesome way. Henry left the dead dog and went home.
When the neighbour, the Duke of Norfolk, came to pay a visit to Avery, both Avery and Henry pleaded innocent to the crime. The Duke of Norfolk knew it was Henry’s handiwork, but he couldn’t prove it, so he banished Henry from his lands. That only brought out Henry’s thirst for revenge. He vowed to make the Duke of Norfolk regret his accusation.
*****
Penelope woke from her afternoon nap. She saw her ball gown hanging from a high hook on the wall. ‘It is tonight,’ she thought. After all the dreaming of it since the age of twelve and practicing dancing for it since the age of sixteen, it was here. She could curtsy. She could address any nobleman by his proper rank. She could dance every dance the band played, including all the country dances. She knew which topics of conversation were appropriate and which were not. She was ready.
Her maid, Helen, came in with a group of footmen, two carrying the tub and another four with buckets of hot water. Helen put down her towels and soap on the stool she pulled next to the tub.
Penelope got in, and Helen began to clean every inch of her then had her dunk her head and washed her hair. While Penelope leaned back and relaxed in the tub, Helen built up the fire and moved the stool to the front of it.
Penelope groaned before getting out of the tub. “It was wonderful,” she said, to no one in particular. She donned her robe and sat on the stool, her back to the fire. Helen kneeled and began brushing her wet hair until it dried.
Helen called for tea and left Penelope alone by the fire in a big comfortable chair. The tea arrived and Penelope relaxed.
Cecilia knocked then walked in. “How are you, Penelope?”
“Sit, Mother. Tea?” She poured for her mother, and they sat across from one another.
“Are you nervous?” Cecilia asked.
“Yes, but not as much as I thought I would be. Since Uncle Avery will accompany me and dance with me, I think that will break the ice.”
She stretched her hand and put it on top of Penelope’s. “You’ll do fine. It will be fun. We’ll see Kitty, Isabel, and Dinah when we get there. You’ll never be alone.
Helen came back and put Penelope in the vanity chair. She started dressing Penelope’s hair the same way Penelope always wore it – the way it helped minimise how much of the scar people saw. It hung slightly over her left side. Helen powdered the scar lightly.
Then Helen slipped on Penelope’s chemise and her dress overhead. Helen turned Penelope around so she could button every tiny button on the back of the dress and then tie the dress’s bow.
“Sit, My Lady,” she said so she could put on Penelope’s stockings and tie each of them just below the knee with a more serviceable ribbon. And finally, she slid on Penelope’s slippers and buckled them across the top of each foot.
“Stand up, My Lady,” she said. She turned Penelope around in a circle to make sure everything was ready for the ball.
****
Avery walked into the ball with Penelope on his arm and a wide smile on his face. He waited for them to be announced then stepped down the three steps to the ballroom floor with Cecilia, Edward, and Henry behind him.
The floor cleared for him. Avery nodded to the band, and they began to play a waltz.
“You look lovely, my dear,” Avery said. “All eyes are on you. Gentlemen who would not have noticed you on the sidelines are noticing you now.”
“All because of you, Uncle Avery. Thank you for doing this for me. Because of you, I feel like a princess.”
“As well you should, my dear, as well you should.”
When the music stopped, Penelope curtsied, and Avery bowed in the middle of the empty floor. Then, he took her hand, curled it around his arm, and walked her to Cecilia. The music started again, and guests went onto the dance floor in droves.
“Cecilia, she is lovely tonight. I thoroughly enjoyed our dance. Now, I must greet my peers before they think I’m snubbing them.” He turned to Penelope, “Thank you for the dance.”
Avery turned away, not to be seen by them for the rest of the evening. No matter, he did what he said he would. It went off without a hitch.
Only after the dance with her uncle did Penelope notice the ballroom. Pink print fabric was draped from the four chandeliers to the corners of the room. Pink and white rose arrangements were everywhere. Swags of pink fabric outlined each of the three French doors leading to the balcony, and large potted plants stood between each door.
Candles burned in the four chandeliers and rose scented candles from France burned in the sconces placed along the walls.
Penelope thought it looked magical. The couples were dancing in step as if dancing on air. The orchestra was able to play so many familiar tunes, and the dance floor was always full. Penelope thought she walked into another world.
Avery’s attention to Penelope had a twofold effect. Avery was commended for his attention to his niece, and men noticed her. A cynic would say that the men noticed her because of her uncle’s standing in nobility and her likelihood to have a large dowry.
Penelope thought Henry was like a bee flying around her head. She could try to swat it away, but it might get angry. She couldn’t understand why he attended the ball, his standing all but guaranteed by his father. His decision to marry after the age of thirty meant he didn’t need to be there. She feared he would attend more balls.
Henry loo
ked the picture of a son of a Duke. He wore all that was super fine. His height along with the perfect tailoring of his expensive clothes made him look like the most eligible of gentlemen. He had a perfectly straight, long nose, and beautiful white teeth he showed often. She thought his stance ridiculous, with his hand inside his jacket like Napoleon. Penelope thought his smile ridiculous also, but she was used to its fake, calculated curve. The girls enjoying their first season saw it as beautiful. They treated him as the catch he seemed to be, but they didn’t have the faintest idea what he was like.
Every time he talked to a girl, Penelope wanted to rush up to her and tell her to run. But of course, she couldn’t do that. She let Henry talk, and soon enough the girl was ready to run of her own volition.
When there was a particularly dense girl or a girl who didn’t care about his personality, only his title, Dinah took great pleasure in telling the girl about Henry’s body rash. Suffice to say, Henry didn’t have much luck with the girls. Penelope warned Dinah more than once to make sure Henry didn’t hear about his ‘body rash.’
Edward stood next to Penelope and Kitty, Isobel, and Dinah. His main job at the ball was to introduce acquaintances of his who had approached his group to the ladies. No gentleman was allowed to approach a lady without proper introduction, and Edward served that purpose. He was, after all, a member of White’s, and most of the gentlemen in any ballroom had a membership there as well.
It was evident when a gentleman approached the group who they were interested in. The gentleman would come to Edward then Edward would introduce his friend to the group. Edward, as the gatekeeper, let everyone through. She, Dinah, Kitty, and Isabel, as a group, attracted gentlemen. They would all chat together until the gentleman asked one of the ladies to dance.
This was the part of the ball where Penelope was usually passed over. She would silently look at her mother and Edward. They would have tight smiles on their faces, pretending that Penelope had not been snubbed.
Penelope stood next to Edward. She came into the ballroom brave but had since lost confidence. One of two things happened to Penelope – either she was not asked to dance, or she was asked, but it didn’t go well. She thought back to Lord Thomas.
“I just got back to London earlier today. I’m so glad I was able to attend this evening. Are you enjoying the ball, Lady Penelope?”
She smiled at him, “Very much, Lord Thomas. Did you travel long to make it back to London?”
“Only a few hours. A few of my colleagues joined me on a hunt. We made some excellent kills. We lost time waiting for two of the deer we killed to drain. We hung them from a tree and opened them up, but they kept us waiting. Anyway,” Thomas stopped talking and went stiff.
That was the exact moment Lord Thomas noticed the scar. He had the usual reaction, Penelope mused. First, he forgot what he was saying. Second, he was staring but trying not to stare, so his eyes were jumping from her eyes to her scar. Third, he tried to recover.
She was unfazed by Lord Thomas’ discomfort. “You were saying, My Lord?”
Lord Thomas looked at her, his expression blank. “I beg your pardon?”
Penelope smiled even brighter. She thought it was unfortunate that this was her only form of entertainment tonight. ‘You have to take your entertainment where you can find it,’ she thought.
“Your hunting trip? The deer?”
Thomas looked like his brain was about to explode. His eyes rolled up to the ceiling trying to conjure the missing conversation he knew he was having. He blew out short spurts of breath and looked around the ballroom. Looking for a lifeline?
“No matter,” Penelope said brightly. “We’ll just start a new conversation. Are you enjoying the ball?”
Lord Thomas shut his eyes a moment. When he opened them, he said, “If I may ask, what happened?”
Penelope looked perplexed. “What happened?”
“Yes,” he said, in a tone he thought sensitive. “What happened?”
She did her best to look confused. “Can you be more specific, Lord Thomas? What happened to what?”
Lord Thomas had the grace to look uncomfortable. Even so, he persisted. “What happened to your face?”
Penelope grimaced. “Do you mean the scar on my face?”
Lord Thomas looked like he could finally stop being so uncomfortable. “Yes.”
Penelope gave a short laugh. “That is from an accident.”
Lord Thomas gave Penelope a look that showed her he thought she was somehow responsible for his social ineptitude.
When the dance was over, she never saw him again. Good riddance.
“What was that about?” Edward asked.
Penelope snorted, “The usual.”
*****
Henry thought Father was such a pompous ass. He waited until the ballroom was full to escort Penelope to the middle of the dance floor for their ‘special dance.’
Henry snorted. ‘Special dance’ meant all his father’s friends would say nice things to him about what a giving man he was.
At least, Penelope looked passable. Henry had thought she was going to be a complete embarrassment to him and his father.
At least she knew how to dance. His father took a big gamble bringing her out here not knowing what she would wear or how she could dance. He supposed his friends would feel sympathy for him if she were an embarrassment.
‘Time for fun,’ he thought. ‘These balls can be boring events unless spiced up.’
Henry stood next to Edward and Penelope, but they ignored him. He continued to listen to them, look over their shoulder, throw in comments, but he continued to be ignored. He was trying to decide if he should be amused or angry by this. Time would tell.
“Edward, are you going to find your manners and introduce me to the three lovely ladies here?” he said growing impatient.
Edward gave Henry a quizzical look. ‘Yes, I’m here, and yes, I’m staying, so introduce me,’ Henry thought.
Edward glanced at Penelope then back at Henry. “Come with me,” he finally said, looking down his nose at Henry.
Edward stopped in front of the three girls. “Ladies, I would like to introduce you to Lord Henry Stanton. Henry, this is Lady Kitty Pembroke, Lady Isabel Mowbray, and Lady Dinah Jennings.”
The three girls curtsied, and Henry bowed to them all. He looked at them closely. The first two looked like they might be fun, but the third one he would definitely stay away from.
“Some of you ladies are very pretty and no doubt get asked to dance often. Although I have no plans at the moment to dance, I will watch you and make a decision about who to ask later,” Henry said.
He turned and went back to stand near Penelope and Edward. Cecilia moved to stand next to him, but Henry said nothing.
***
Penelope ploughed through the next part of her evening wearily dancing and being passed over by almost every gentleman introduced to the group.
She also had to put up with Henry hovering over the group, commenting on all that happened. Every once in a while, he would give the group a reprieve and cause his disruptions elsewhere. But inevitably, he would come back.
“Mother, I don’t believe this is the proper venue for me. Maybe tea. In a parlour, perhaps? Somewhere where they can’t make such a quick escape.”
“I think you’re right. Once gentlemen know you, dancing will be more to their liking. I’ll talk with some of the more experienced mothers and get suggestions.”
“Or maybe you should run back to Somerset knowing you are never going to succeed here. I can’t think of a single gentleman wasting his time with the likes of you. I certainly wouldn’t be seen with you. It would scream ‘I’m a loser and can’t get a real girl’ to everyone in the ballroom,” Henry said, back from making someone else miserable.
Edward’s face was red and his eyes piercing. “May we step away for a moment Henry?”
Henry opened his mouth to object, but Edward grabbed his arm, to what seemed to Penelope a very ti
ght grip, given the wince on Henry’s face. They walked out of hearing distance but came back a moment later, Henry excusing himself and disappearing.
“That was successful,” Penelope said to Edward. “What did you say?”
“I threatened to make him the laughing stock of the ton, spreading a rumour of his unfortunate rash.”
Penelope laughed. “Oh, Edward. That’s awful.”
“And effective.”
A gentleman approached Edward, cutting off any more talk of rashes.
He bowed. “Lord Balfour?”
Edward gave him a welcoming smile even though the young gentleman looked nervous and awkward. “Yes. To whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?”
“I am Lord Alfred. I would like to ask for a dance with your sister.”
Edward wasn’t sure if he heard Alfred or Hapless but saw no reason to turn the young man down. Lord Alfred was of medium height with a very round, boyish face. His hair was auburn, a shade that on him made him look even younger. His pale skin lit up with red blotches most of the time he was talking with anyone. He had a sheen of sweat on his brow and a blotchy red stain on both his cheeks, no doubt from nerves. Thank God Penelope was wearing gloves because Edward was sure Lord Hapless had sweating, clammy hands.
“Certainly.” He turned to Penelope, the look on her face designed to melt his skin. “Lady Penelope, may I introduce Lord Alfred?”
Penelope curtsied, and Lord Alfred bowed. He held her hand to lead her to the dance floor. Edward watched on knowing he would have hell to pay.
Cecilia came and stood next to Edward. “I’m not sure your sister will forgive you. I’m not sure it was wise to show her to the entire ballroom as desperate. We all know he’s practicing on her. An untried young buck such as he could bring her down a notch.”
Edward sighed. “I thought of that too. Should she be on the sidelines or out on the dance floor dancing, making conversation? Alfred might spread the good word about how charming she is.”
