by Abigail Agar
Loving a Fearless Duchess
A REGENCY ROMANCE NOVEL
ABIGAIL AGAR
Copyright © 2018 by Abigail Agar
All Rights Reserved.
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Table of Contents
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Loving a Fearless Duchess
Introduction
Penelope is beginning her season in London as an underdog. She will compete for the attention of marriageable gentlemen along with beautiful girls with flawless beauty while she has a large scar marring hers.
Nash met Penelope years ago and experienced an instant connection with her. Defying the odds, Nash and Penelope meet and connect again.
But Penelope's cousin Henry works relentlessly to break them up. He is fearful his secret will become common knowledge if she marries Nash because Henry will no longer have leverage over her.
As the only son and heir to the Duke of Somerset, Henry's future depends on the course of this relationship, a relationship he is determined to end.
Chapter 1
Penelope Balfour stood facing the mirror and looked at the eighth ball gown she had tried on today. The modiste her mother Cecilia used had made all eight gowns with an eye toward Penelope’s hourglass figure.
Madame Leduc had raved endlessly about Penelope’s chestnut brown hair and her warm brown eyes. She showed Penelope and Cecilia how well Penelope could wear both pastels and jewel tones. Something not a lot of girls could do.
Cecilia was pleased. Penelope looked beautiful in every gown. Cecilia would take them all, on Penelope’s approval of course.
But Penelope still stood facing the mirror looking at the eighth ball gown she tried on today seeing nothing but the scar on her face. The first seven gowns she tried on she barely noticed either. She would start her first season in two weeks, and all she could think about was her scar.
Penelope had had the scar for four years. Her mother and her older brother, Edward told her they were so used to it they never noticed it anymore. But everyone else noticed it. How could they not? It ran along her hairline from her temple to the bottom of her ear on the left side of her face.
It was most visible next to her ear where the unpleasant white line didn’t have her hair to hide it. She had to wear her hair in the same style day in and day out to help cover it. Her hair swept to the side and in a style where it draped loosely down and forward to cover the unpleasant left side of her face. At least her hair looked good that way.
If she blushed pink, her scar turned a light red, having a life of its own. If she were angry, it turned a deep purplish red. If she cried, it turned dark red. She could no more control it than she could control the blinking of her eyelids.
Cecilia looked at her. “Well, Penelope. How do you like it?”
“It’s beautiful,” Penelope said.
Cecilia let out a sigh of relief. “Yes. Madame Leduc certainly knows her way around the colour palette. We’ll take this one also, Madame.”
Madame Leduc beamed. “Penelope, you are so lucky you can wear almost any colour. I will finish alterations before your first ball. Let me get the fabric swatches.”
Cecilia looked at Penelope, trying to read her thoughts. “Shall we take the swatches to the cobbler? Or go to get matching ribbons? Gloves? Hats?”
Penelope gave her mother a small smile. Her energy was sapped. She needed so much strength just to go out of the townhouse door and into the questioning glances on London’s streets.
“Tomorrow, Mother?”
“Of course,” Cecilia said. “Let’s go home and have some tea.”
Cecilia, Edward, and Penelope shared a townhouse in London with Cecilia’s brother, Avery Stanton, the Duke of Somerset, and Avery’s son, Henry. Tragically, Cecilia’s husband, Albert, had died suddenly. That was when Avery took in Cecilia’s family.
All, including Avery, were happy with the arrangement. He was admired for the kind gesture, and he liked the admiration. If it weren’t for Avery’s wayward son, Henry, it would be perfect.
Henry was a tall, handsome man with a mean streak. Penelope tried to come up with something that softened the word ‘mean’, but she couldn’t. It seemed such an awful thing to say about her cousin. Menacing, sinister, and disruptive all came to mind, but she somehow always returned to mean. The word fit best. Just looking into Henry’s eyes made Penelope shiver.
Penelope stayed as far away from Henry as she could. Not always an easy thing to do. For a reason Penelope never understood, Henry found pleasure trying to get under her skin.
After arriving home from the modiste, Penelope went up to her bedchamber for a rest. She lay in bed looking up at the fabric that made a canopy overhead. Why was she so tired? And melancholy?
Penelope was about to start her first and hopefully last season. She, as well as all girls her age, had dreamed of this since they were small. Balls, musicals, the theater, rides through the park with gentlemen looking for a wife. All fun.
But the thing that had plagued her for the past four years plagued her now. Her scar. She would be in a crowded ballroom hoping for dance partners – dance partners who would not end up running in the opposite direction when they saw her. The girls would whisper while looking back at her every so often to see if the scar was still there. Did they think it might disappear? She wasn’t sure she was strong enough for the rejection.
Penelope sighed and turned to her side. No wonder she was tired. The season would be very long, she feared.
After her rest, Penelope found Cecilia in the parlour with the fabric colour swatches on her lap.
“Hello, Mother,” she said with an enthusiasm she didn’t feel.
Without looking up from the swatches, Cecilia said, “Oh, good. You’re here. We need a plan, dear. Maybe, we could go out every other day to shop?”
“If that is what we need to do,” Penelope said. She thought her mother might enjoy shopping more than she would. It might as well be fun for someone.
Penelope sat and poured herself tea. She leaned back in her chair, sipping and watching her mother.
“What’s on your mind, Mother?”
Cecilia looked up at Penelope. “I think we’ll have to host tea for some of the ladies of the ton and their daughters. With Avery’s title, it’s expected of us. He has asked twice if I set the date. Of course, he’ll drop in on the ladies for ten minutes when they have all arrived and chat with them. It’s expected. Do you want to help me choose a date?”
“No, Mother. You can do that. Who are you are inviting? Your card group?”
“Yes. Just the three. Lady Pembroke and her daughter, Kitty. Lady Mowbray and Isabel, Lady Jennings, and her niece, Dinah. Do you know any of them?”
Penelope thought then shook her head. “I vaguely remembered Dinah’s mother dying suddenly, but I know nothing of any of them.”
“Yes, poor Dinah. Her mother’s heart attack was sudden and unexpected. I hope she can enjoy herself now that her mourning period is over.
“So, I’ll send out invitations to the ladies. They will reciprocate, of course. From these engagements, you will get to know Kitty, Isabel, and Dinah well enough once the season starts. We don’t want to look like we know no one at an event.
“And I must insist we begin working on your accessories. We will shop for gloves tomorrow.”
Penelope smiled. “I can see the wheels turning in your head, Mother. I am confident you will have me ready for the first ball.”
Cecilia visibly relaxed. Her daughter’s accessories were well in hand, and the requisite tea socials were about to begin.
*****
Lady Pembroke arrived first with Kitty in tow, followed almost immediately by Lady Mowbray and her daughter, Isabel. It became apparent within minutes of the introductions that Kitty and Isabel were good friends.
They all sat, and while waiting for Lady Jennings and Dinah to come, they took turns getting a good look at Penelope’s scar. Penelope secretly rolled her eyes. They thought themselves discrete,, but Penelope was used to this ritual and pretended to be oblivious.
Kitty and Isabel gave each other looks, and Penelope could almost hear a sigh of relief. She imagined them thinking, ‘Penelope won’t be a rival.’
Each girl starting her season needed to assess her competition. They evaluated each other. By the time the first ball ended, a pecking order would be in place based on looks, manner of dress, and number and quality of dance partners.
Kitty and Isabel were both beautiful young ladies who knew how to dress to their greatest advantage. They perfected radiant smiles and an inflection in their voices that made the people around them feel as if their conversation was the most interesting they had ever heard. How interesting it was that neither could hold any kind of conversation without boring whoever was forced to listen. Penelope had no doubt they practiced facial expressions on each other in the confines of one or another’s chamber. They seemed very pleased with the results of their efforts.
Lady Jennings and Dinah were announced, and Cecilia bade them to sit. Dinah wasn’t as pretty as Kitty or Isabel, but she was far more interesting and educated. Penelope was certain a conversation with her would be far more engaging. She immediately turned to Dinah and began to converse.
Dinah’s eyes flickered over her scar for the briefest time, but she diverted her eyes, being careful to keep Penelope at ease. Penelope liked her already.
Tea was served, and the topic of shopping came up. They compared establishments each patronized for wardrobes and accessories. All of them used many of the same shops, but they also latched on to a new shop or two that might provide something different.
Penelope admired Kitty’s hair comb. Made with dyed stones in green, deep purple, and medium blue, the colours of a peacock, it sparkled in the candlelight every time she moved her head.
“Kitty, I love your hair comb. Do you recall where you purchased it?” Penelope asked.
Kitty batted the air with her hand. “Oh, you wouldn’t want to use a hair comb. It would call attention to,” Kitty’s eyes widened, “to your, to your …”
Lady Pembroke jumped in, “It would take away attention from your beautiful warm brown eyes. They are a feature you don’t want to hide.”
“You’re so right, Lady Pembroke,” Lady Mowbray said. “There won’t be another girl in the season who could match those eyes.”
“Thank you,” Penelope said without a hint of upset or annoyance. “That’s very kind of you. Still, could you tell me where you found Kitty’s hair comb, Lady Pembroke?”
After that moment of discomfort, conversation settled in with the expert guidance of Cecilia, having previously settled down groups of dozens of women who put their foot in their mouths. Kitty stayed mercifully quiet, a decision Penelope was grateful to see.
Uncle Avery made his obligatory visit to the ladies, complementing Kitty, Isabel, and Dinah for how beautiful they each looked and how poised they were.
He talked with the ladies and inquired about their husbands, even though he had seen two of them the night before at his gentlemen’s club, White’s.
The ladies excitedly chatted with Avery. Having so much personal attention from a Duke was a treat. And he played his required role to perfection. He wore perfectly tailored clothes, lived in a large townhouse, and was on the guest list of every party. Yes, Avery’s image was intact partly due to meticulous planning of his schedule, designed to be as high profile as possible.
Penelope thought the ladies must believe she lived in an idyllic house with an idyllic family. If she had one advantage over most of the other girls, it was that. Her uncle was a Duke, but it was so little an advantage it was not worth mentioning. Still, out of guilt for her scar, Avery would accompany her to the more important balls.
*****
As soon as Kitty and Isabel were seated in their carriage after tea, the discussion began.
“It’s longer than was rumoured. And, because of its colour, it stood out. Mother, do you know how she got it?”
Lady Pembroke sighed. “I heard she was kidnapped when she was fourteen, and when the Duke balked at the sum they wanted him to pay, the kidnappers told him they would carve up her face. Mind you, it’s just a rumour, and I’m not inclined to believe it. The Duke is an honourable man.”
Lady Mowbray shook her head, “If there is any truth to the whole business, it’s that we can’t believe the rumours. I heard she was jumping from the loft of a barn to the straw mounds below, and there was some sort of tool inside one of the mounds of straw. She fell, and the tool cut her.” She shook her head. “I think it’s odd that whatever happened to her is such a secret.”
Kitty glossed over Lady Mowbray’s remark. “But think of it, Mother. She’s so very beautiful. She would catch the eye of all the most eligible men if not for her scar. But no one will be able to miss it. We will benefit, for certain.”
“Yes, but you must be more careful, Kitty. You must have nothing but sympathy for the girl. Why, if anyone heard you, they would think you unfeeling.”
Kitty sat back for the remainder of the carriage ride. A smug smile she could not help showed on her face. The relief of Penelope’s face swept over her as she relaxed. Yes, Penelope wouldn’t be any competition for her.
Tea at Lady Mowbray’s went similarly to the previous teas. The girls got to know one another better. Cecilia and Lady Mowbray seemed to get along well, which greatly relieved Cecilia. They had always been friendly during their weekly card game, but their friendship had deepened. She feared no one would warm up to her, and she would have no source to hear the chatter about Penelope’s face and the resulting reaction by the eligible men.
Penelope, on the other hand, sized up Kitty and Isabel. She knew she could never trust them. They were like the porcelain dolls Penelope saw in shop windows. Beautiful, but with nothing to offer. The only thing Penelope would want from them was to stand next to them at a ball so she wouldn’t have to stand alone. But she liked Dinah. She was a pleasant girl, not a silly, frivolous package with nothing to offer a man except her beauty. Probably because of the sudden loss of her mother, she was down to earth, thoughtful, practical.
So by the time all four teas had taken place, everyone knew one another well enough to form a unit. A unit that would help one another stand the scrutiny of the gentlemen they wanted to attract. Even Penelope found the worth of the unit. Gentlemen would be attracted to Kitty and Isabel. Standing next to them, Penelope would be introduced to a steady stream of them.
Now that they knew there would be a steady stream of men attracted to Kitty and Isabel, Cecilia and Edward sat Penelope down to talk with her.
“How are you feeling about the upcoming balls, Penelope?” Edward asked.
“I’m fine.” She shrugged.
“That was a lukewarm answer. Mother went to a lot of trouble—”
“Edward,” Cecilia admonished.
“… to find girls you can call your friends for the balls.”
“But they’re not my friends,” Penelope protested. “They are beautiful, silly girls whose personalities will be fully exposed as shallow to every gentleman before the end of their first waltz. When a dance partner realizes how vacuous Kitty and Isabel are, do you think they’ll ask me to dance?”
Edward thought for a minute before he answered. He had a wry smile on his face. “If they are so quick to realize how flimsy the brains of your friends are, you underestimate their ability to see you for the powerhouse you are.
“It doesn’t work one way, my dear,” Cecilia said. “Those looking for a Kitty or an Isabel will find one. Those looking for a Penelope will also find one. We are not quite as stupid as we seem, sometimes.”
