by Abigail Agar
“Edward and I discussed it. Edward is at the solicitor’s now, asking to become Penelope’s legal guardian. Now that he is of age, he has that right. He will come back with the outcome of that meeting.”
“Will Avery throw us out when Edward becomes Penelope’s legal guardian?” Cecilia said, wringing her hands.
“It won’t matter. Once Penelope and I are married, you will move to my mother’s townhouse and have full and free access to all my properties. Edward and I will begin discussing your living arrangements. You’ll never worry about a roof over your head again.”
Penelope gasped. “You can do that?”
He smiled at her, “Yes, my love. I can.”
Nash breathed deep. “There is another solution.” Penelope sat up, her spine ramrod straight. “No.”
Cecilia moved a little closer to Penelope on the carriage bench. “Don’t be so hasty, dear. Think of all that is at stake here. What if Avery tells you at dinner tonight that he has found a husband for you?”
Penelope looked up at Nash with pleading eyes. He said, “Let’s wait to see what Edward finds out, shall we? I’ll do this any way you want, Penelope, but I would feel more at ease if we married right away and got all of you out of this house.”
Penelope put her thumb and forefinger on her brows. “We’ve talked about so much; I need time to think. Will I see you tomorrow at one o’clock? Maybe we can take another carriage ride then?”
Nash knocked on the roof of the carriage, and it headed back to the Balfour residence. “But you do want to marry me, Penelope? Even if it is complicated?”
Penelope grinned back at Nash, “Yes, I do want to marry you, even if it is complicated.”
Nash let the ladies down from the carriage.
“Where have you been?” came the full whiny voice of Henry.
Cecilia took Penelope’s hand and patted it. “We went on the most glorious ride through the flowers in the parks around London. Let me come in and tell you all about them over tea, Henry. The lilacs–”
“No, Cecilia, I don’t want to hear about the flowers.”
They were in the entrance taking care of their coats and wraps. They ordered tea and went into the parlour.
Nash jumped in. “Were the lilacs your favourite? I was partial to the tulips. It’s such a harbinger of spring.
“Stop it, all of you,” Henry said, his face getting red, his arms flailing.
Penelope smiled tightly. “What is it, Henry?”
Henry put his hands on his hips. “What did you talk about in the carriage?”
Cecilia answered, “Oh, I don’t know. The flowers, the beautiful day, how the trees have turned so green so fast.”
Nash continued, “The Promenade. There were a couple of new fashion hats the ladies particularly liked.”
Penelope jumped in, “Remember that purple one with the feathers, Mother? Can we go to the milliners soon. I’d love to see that hat in a sapphire blue shade.”
Henry sighed heavily. “I suppose you think you are all funny talking about flowers and hats.”
Nash furrowed his brows, “I beg your pardon?”
Henry put his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.
Nash stood, “Ladies, I must be on my way. I had a delightful time today touring the gardens.”
Cecilia and Penelope stood and curtsied as Nash bowed and left.
“Mother, could you help me with the buckle on my shoe? I think it’s loose.” The Balfour ladies left the parlour without a curtsy or any other form of civility.
***
“Lord Balfour.” Jamison bowed.
“Mr Jamison.” Edward bowed.
“Have a seat. Would you care for tea, My Lord?”
Edward sat and shook his head. “No, thank you. I appreciate you seeing me on such short notice. If I may jump right into it?” Jamison nodded. “There is very little that I have become responsible for after my father’s death. I believe I need to become the guardian to my mother and my sister now that I am of age.
“My sister is having her season, and it has occurred to me that when she finds a gentleman interested in her, she will need my permission to marry.”
“Forgive me My Lord, but do you believe there will be a marriage in your sister’s future?”
Edward sighed but tried not to show his irritation at such a question. “She may have a few more hurdles than most of the young ladies on the marriage mart, but I stay optimistic. Could you please advise me on her guardianship?”
Jamison jumped to his feet, no doubt knowing of his error in judgment, and went to his files. He searched under Balfour and Stanton, finding nothing related to Penelope’s guardianship.
“There is nothing stopping your request for guardianship. You know Lord Balfour, that as her older brother, you are automatically her guardian, taking precedence over all others?” Jamison sat back at his desk and opened a drawer. He took out a piece of vellum and placed it in front of him.
“I understand, Jamison. Having documentation seems to cut through disagreements more quickly.”
Jamison nodded and wrote while Edward watched. When done, Jamison slid the paper to Edward.
“Read and, if all is in order, sign. While you read, I’ll find one of my clerks to witness.”
The paragraph was simple and straightforward. ‘Penelope Balfour’s older brother, Edward Balfour, of age, is Lady Balfour’s legal guardian in all actions concerning Lady Penelope Balfour. Cecilia Balfour’s son, Edward Balfour, of age, is Lady Balfour’s legal guardian in all actions concerning Lady Cecilia Balfour.”
The clerk followed Jamison in, and all three men signed the document. The clerk was dismissed.
“I will file this today to be put on the magistrate’s docket. I don’t know how full his docket is, but you shall have your documentation of guardianship within a sennight.”
Edward and Jamison stood, and Edward took out a coin for Jamison. “Thank you, My Lord. I will notify you once the magistrate has acted on it.” Jamison bowed. As did Edward.
Edward hit the street, optimistic their guardianship problems were taken care of.
***
Nash bowed. “Sutton.”
Wilson bowed. “Finch. I must say I was surprised to hear my man tell me you wanted an audience. Come in, sit. Whisky?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
After Wilson handed him a glass, he sat next to Nash, positioning his chair to make them across from one another.
Nash looked around. “Your office is much more professional than mine.”
Wilson laughed. “I do twice as many transactions as you; it’s harder for me to keep track of everyone’s money. How goes the three ships you’re building? You’re using them for trade to America?”
Nash gave a short laugh. “They are going well. I think it will work out for my investors. But we will sell when they are built. I’m not ready to put my chips into the trade with America.”
“Why ever not?”
“I get paid when the ships are ready. America? I get paid when a full ship comes back empty or with a cargo of who knows what? It takes months. In the meantime, I have empty pockets.”
Wilson snorted, “The day you have empty pockets is the day we see cows reading books.”
“And the same can be said for you. Listen, I don’t usually invade your personal space, but I need a favour. I hope you can help me.”
Wilson nodded, “I hope I can too.”
Nash adjusted himself in his chair and looked up at Wilson. “I’m in love. Do you know Penelope Balfour?” Wilson nodded and smiled. “When Penelope’s father died, she, her brother, and her mother were taken in by her mother’s brother, Avery Stanton.
“Avery and his son, Henry want to split us up because of secrets I know about Henry. If I went to Avery to ask for Penelope’s hand, he would say no, and I would never see Penelope again.”
Wilson leaned forward. “How old is her brother?”
Nash nodded. “He’s of a
ge. You would think the decision would automatically revert to him, as it should, but there is a real concern Avery will override Edward, her brother.”
Wilson grimaced. “Nash, I’ll help you in any way I can, but I can’t see what the problem is. Go to the brother today, ask for her hand, and get a special licence if you must, and get married as soon as possible.”
Nash gave out a short laugh. “You think I’m mad.”
Wilson leaned back and put his drink on a side table. “I do. But that’s not what you came here for. I’ve always thought you mad. Especially at university. Tell me, how can I help you?”
Nash looked Wilson in the eye. “I want to buy your investment portfolio that holds Avery Stanton’s shares. I’ll pay you a premium of whatever you want; I don’t care. What’s the investment?”
“A copper mine.”
“All right. I need leverage over the man until I’m happily married. I will sell the investment portfolio back to you at a discount when I know we’re in the clear. He would never have to know.”
“Unless something went wrong, and he needed to know.”
Nash nodded, “That’s right.”
Wilson rose and got the investment file out of a drawer. He set it on his desk and examined the documents inside.
“There is nothing precluding me from selling you this investment portfolio or from not notifying any of the shareholders I’ve sold it to. I don’t like what it would do for my reputation and my investors. If they are skittish, they’ll ask for provisions in their future investments that could tie my hands.”
Wilson looked up. “If we did this, it would have to be hushed up. If my other investors knew, I’d lose their trust and I am not willing to have that happen.”
He sat back in his large desk chair and looked at Nash. “Nash, how do you make this happen without exposing me?”
***
“Edward, may I ask you for your sister’s hand in marriage? I love her, and I want to spend every day with her for the rest of my life.”
“Yes, Nash. I give you my blessing, and I wish you both the best.”
Edward turned to his mother and his sister. They were both giggling. “That was so hokey. So staged,” Penelope said.
“I’m glad we amuse you, sis,” Edward said.
Nash laughed too. “We really did sound like idiots.”
Penelope batted her hand through the air, “Don’t worry, you always do.”
“Well, now that the non-event of asking for your hand is through, we can move on. You can’t blame us for wanting to make a jest of it.”
Nash looked around the parlour. It was late morning, not the usual 1 o’clock calling time. Nash had his driver drop him off around the corner and told him to park there. He would walk to the corner after his visit.
“So we probably won’t see Henry now?” Nash said, still nervous about their secret plans.
“I’d be shocked to see him. I sit in this parlour a good portion of every day, and the only time I see him is when you come calling at one,” Cecilia said.
“Penelope. You’ve had some time to think about this. You are betrothed, but that doesn’t mean Uncle will not break it for another man he chooses,” Edward said. “Time is very precious now.”
Penelope huffed. “I’m not going to Gretna Green.”
Nash approached her like she was a bear that hadn’t eaten all winter, and he had a basket full of salmon in his hands.
“Would you consider going to Gretna Green then coming home and having a large wedding a month from now? Obviously, the Gretna Green wedding would be a secret.”
She folded her arms over her chest. Nash knew what that meant.
Nash began again. “All right. No Gretna Green.” He raised his eyebrow. She nodded.
“We can get a special licence, and the priest could marry us in the rectory of the church. We can start planning the large wedding now. Better?”
She looked up at him, told him to sit, then looked him in the eyes. “The big wedding wouldn’t be meaningful once we married in the rectory. I don’t want to marry in the rectory. I want everyone who ever looked at me cross-eyed to see me walk down the aisle on my brother’s arm, my eyes fixed on my bridegroom. While their eyes were fixed on my scar.”
Nash blew out and in while Penelope waited until he was finished counting to ten. “I think I want that as much as you. All those naysayers would have their comeuppance.
“But, I am truly afraid your uncle is going to attach you to a weak penniless puppet. Yes, we’ve put everything in place, but do you think he’s going down without a fight? You don’t want to be in the middle of that. I don’t want you to be in the middle of that.”
Cecilia stood and sat next to Penelope. She took her hands in Penelope’s, “I have lived my whole life hoping you would marry a wonderful man who never even thought about your scar. What you two have is very special. Don’t gamble that it will work out fine. You can make guarantees. Right now, today. Please, my dear, don’t gamble with this.”
There was a long silence in the parlour. Penelope had her head down, and Nash didn’t dare to breathe. The air was thick as if the room were crowded with twenty people.
Penelope lifted her head. “May I please speak with my betrothed, alone?”
Cecilia stood, and Edward pushed off from the wall. “We won’t be far,” Cecilia said then shut the door quietly.
Nash stood then sat next to Penelope. He waited. Penelope looked at him, and from the way her eyes were moving, he could tell she was studying every inch of his face.
She turned her body to face him and gave him a small smile.
“This isn’t the way I want to do this, but I don’t want to gamble you away over a childhood dream of the perfect wedding. So, I would like the rectory wedding with only my mother and brother there, and then I want to begin to plan the biggest wedding ever thrown in this town,” Penelope said, laughing at her desire for a large wedding.
Nash leaned in and kissed her. One of those slow, sexy kisses she liked so much. “The sooner, the better, Penelope.”
She batted her hand through the air. “You and Edward deal with it. Just let me know what time to show up.”
Nash kissed her quickly. “I’ll grab Edward and go now.”
When the door to the parlour opened, Cecilia rushed in. Edward was already at the front door with Nash. They walked to the corner where Nash had left the carriage.
“The Archbishop’s house,” he told the driver.
Chapter 12
Nash came calling at one o’clock. He knew it would seem strange to Henry if he didn’t. He went directly to Penelope and pulled her into the corner of the parlour, whispering what he and Edward had done since this morning. Before he could get Penelope up to date, Henry entered the room, more surly than usual. He all but growled at the four of them, complained about the teacakes, told Cecilia she looked old in that dress she was wearing and told Penelope her scar stood out even more so than usual.
At that Nash grabbed him by the neck and slammed him into the wall. “How dare you speak to her that way. You are the reason she carries that scar around, and yet you mock her for it?” Nash slammed Henry’s head against the wall like a child would throw a ball against one.
Cecilia interrupted, her voice high and loud, “Nash, put him down at once.”
Nash turned, noticing Cecilia as if she had just entered the room. It had just been him and Henry.
Nash opened his fingers and walked away. Behind him, Henry crumpled to the floor choking, drawing in loud, noisy breaths.
He stood. “I demand this man be escorted from this house, immediately.” He pointed then moved to the door and opened it. “Waters, come here. Escort that man,” he said, now pointing at Nash, “out.”
“I’m sorry, My Lord, but I am unable to throw out a Duke on your orders, as you know.” He bowed and went back to his post.
Henry turned to Nash. “Don’t you ever lay a hand on me again.”
Nash laughed. “
I will if you ever mention Penelope’s scar in front of me again, the scar you gave her, that you should be ashamed of yourself about.
“And what’s more, if I had been thrown out, I would have told everyone in White’s that you said derogatory things about a scar you gave Penelope. And I would tell them how you gave it to her.
“So I suggest Henry, that I don’t get thrown out of here or I’ll just have to go to White’s.”
