The Rise of a Forsaken Lady: A Historical Regency Romance Novel

by Linfield, Emma

  “I must say I am impressed, Penelope,” Lord Allerton said. “This maturity is something I have been hoping to see in you for a long while.”

  “Can you say that and not make it sound as if I am a pony that just figured out how to leap?”

  “I wish I could,” Lord Allerton said. “But if doing so, you must be with Mr. Moore at all times, even when Miss Bell and or I am with you. I am serious, sister, I cannot rule out that that gunshot was aimed at me instead of Lord Shirlling. I will not take any chances that you might be an easier target too.”

  “I agree,” Lady Penelope said, “But note this, Eddie. If you have any ideas of getting Lord Hillbrook as one of my suitors, I will retract my decision immediately.”

  “Penelope!” the Earl gasped. “Why not! Russell is already the forerunner.”

  “He is too close, Eddie,” Lady Penelope groaned. “Any mystery I might have to a new suitor is lost with him. And even with the new ones, the little I have will vanish soon enough. Please.”

  “I will meet you halfway,” Lord Allerton said. “You will allow Russell time to prove himself at least twice, and if you have these hesitations still, we will reconsider, agreed.”

  “Once,” Penelope argued.

  “Twice,” her brother’s position was firm.

  “Once or not at all,” Penelope stressed.

  And here I thought her timid.

  “Penelope—!”

  “Edward!”

  “Fine,” the Earl huffed. “Russell will see you once.”

  “Thank you,” Penelope’s voice had gone from demanding to sugary sweet. “I always knew you could be reasonable at times.”

  Keeping that as his cue to leave, Heath began walking away only to round a corner and nearly collide into Miss Bell. He quickly got his feet under him and was able to steady Miss Bell too. “Are you all right, Miss Bell?”

  She nodded quickly, “I am, thank you, Mr. Moore.”

  “Excuse me then,” Heath said as calmly as he could. With a nod, he continued off down the corridor and back to the cutlery closet where he should have been polishing the silver in the first place.

  Halfway through polishing the silver, Heath groaned and let his hands fall on the drawer’s edge. He was sure that he had made a fool of himself. He had no business in that part of the house, and if Miss Bell told Lady Penelope about him being there, which he was sure she would, the lady would know exactly why he had been there.

  There was no explanation—well, there was one, but it was the farthest thing from rational or reasonable—he could give to make the Lady not feel as her privacy had been violated. He shook his head and went back to his task. If Lady Penelope felt that averse to his action to the point that she would ask for his dismissal, he would give no objections.

  Every time I follow my intuition, it is for a reasonable reason…what in God’s name had I been thinking merely ten minutes ago.

  He finished polishing the silver and closed the drawers with the keys. He lingered in the room until he felt a cool gust of breeze coming from the window. It was a cool evening, almost a night breeze in actuality. Had time gone by so quickly? Dinner must be ready to be served.

  Making toward the kitchens, he got there in time for Mrs. Burcham to look up from the food she was plating into the large serving dishes. “Ah, Mr. Moore. Just in time. These are ready for the dining room.”

  “I will—”

  “Mr. Moore,” Mr. Gastrell called as he entered the room, “How fortunate you are on time. However, I will take care of this as His Lordship would like to see you in his study.”

  Not even three days and I have endangered my position.

  “Understood, Mr. Gastrell,” he said with a curt nod and went to the study with dread almost as heavy as lead in his chest. He stood at the doorway and knocked.

  “Enter, Mr. Moore,” Lord Allerton commanded.

  Stepping in, Heath immediately spotted Lady Penelope, Miss Bell and the Lord himself. He did not dare look at Lady Penelope as he feared that she knew what he had done.

  “My Lord?” he asked.

  The Earl sat back in his seat, “In a surprising turn of events, Lady Penelope has decided to try courtship again, and as you are her guard, you will be with her throughout her endeavors. The season has ended, but there is no deficit of bachelors. Your tasks, Mr. Moore is to be at her side whenever she is out of this house.”

  This was not the dismissal he had feared, and when he dared look at Lady Penelope, he saw a soft smile on her lips and a knowing look in her eyes. Miss Bell had told her then, Heath knew, but she had not said a thing to her brother. Her look was loaded with understanding and kindness and the fear running through his mind calmed.

  “I understand, My Lord,” Heath said, while daring to look at the lady sitting there with the same serene smile on her face.

  She knew. She knew what he had done but…she was not making an issue of it. Relief flooded through his veins, she knew, and she was all right with that. He did not know if he should thank her when they had a private moment or if he should let it alone.

  “It will be my honor to guard Lady Penelope,” he added.

  The Lord looked between him and his sister, but then turned back to him. “All right then, we are agreed. I think dinner is in order.”

  “Yes, My Lord,” Heath replied. “Mr. Gastrell has laid out the repast in lieu of me. Everything should be in order when you get to the dining room.”

  Lord Allerton stood and held out his arm to his sister who rose and took it. Briefly, their eyes met over the Earl’s shoulder and his thankful look was met with a forgiving and understanding one. A look Heath felt he would treasure for the rest of his life.

  If I am allowed to anyway.

  Holding the door for the two, he felt Lady Penelope’s eyes on him and met her eyes briefly only to nod his head once again in appreciation of her not telling her brother about his eavesdropping.

  Back at the dining room, he served the courses from the sideboard and listened with a half-ear at the conversation between the two. The spoke about Lady Penelope’s tentative decision to go back to the social scene.

  “There is a ball at the Blackwell’s home next week,” Lord Allerton added. “I had planned to go alone, but now that you are ready to get back in the ballrooms, I suppose we can go together.”

  “And alienate yourself by arriving with me on your arm,” Lady Penelope’s lips twitched. “And here I thought you did not love me.”

  “Oh,” Lord Allerton wiped his mouth, “I love you enough that I will pawn you off to the highest bidder there.”

  Eyes narrowing, Lady Penelope said acerbically, “Aren’t you a dear.”

  “I know,” the Earl grinned. “Speaking of, since you are going, sister dear, Mr. Moore, you will be there as well.”

  His words felt a bit rhetorical, but Heath gave his affirmation anyway. The dinner continued with discussions with Lady Penelope lamenting that she had to resurrect her ballgowns from the darkest corner of her wardrobe. When she requested a cup of tea and a slice of cake, Lord Allerton excused himself and asked Heath to accompany him to his study.

  “My Lord?”

  The Earl sat behind his desk and gestured for Heath to sit. He then leaned up against on the large wooden counter and steepled his fingers. “The family that is hosting the ball is deeply, notoriously conformist like mine. We are supporters of the monarchy and are staunch supporters of the Church of England. But my sister, is not such a staunch supporter. She tends to gravitate to more liberal ideologies. She is known to indulge in arguments showing the same opinions.”

  “You would like for me to monitor her interactions,” Heath inferred. “When you are not with her, I assume.”

  “Exactly,” the Earl scrubbed a hand over his face. “I have suffered many an evening with some peers who are equally appalled and impressed with her encyclopedic knowledge. Do you know how hard it is to defend a lady who knows more about the anatomy of the human body than one who kno
ws about the pianoforte or pastels?”

  “Invigorating, I presume?” Heath asked.

  “Irritating,” the Lord huffed. “Some even asked me if she was a witch.”

  Pressing his lips together to stop from laughing, Heath swallowed over his mirth and asked, “I willfully accept my task of keeping Lady Penelope from any problematic interactions for you, My Lord.”

  “She can be wily, Mr. Moore,” Lord Allerton said. “Keep an eye out at all times.”

  “Understood,” Heath nodded and feeling that the conversation had come to a natural end stood and bowed. “Good day, My Lord.”

  “Same to you, Mr. Moore,” Lord Allerton said before reaching for something in a drawer. “Thank you.”

  A thick eyebrow lifted in surprise. It was unusual for a Lord to give thanks to a paid servant, but he was not going to argue. Nodding, he left the room and went to his duties, cleaning up the breakfast table and carrying the uneaten portions back to the kitchen. He then went to managing the coal levels in the room and making sure the rest of his duties were done.

  The library was empty of Lady Penelope, and so were the sitting rooms. The only reasonable deduction was that she was in the stables, and after making sure all was well in the home, he went there.

  He heard her cooing voice from the outside and prepared to enter and see her coddle her horse, Bessie. Instead—to his amazement and soft delight—she was speaking to Duke. His stallion was still a bit standoffish and twisted his head out of Lady Penelope’s reach many times but did not dance away.

  “He’s getting used to you,” Heath replied.

  She twisted over her shoulder and smiled. “I would like to think so.”

  Coming close, he reached over and took hold of Duke’s chin groove. Duke’s dark eyes were unfathomable, and Heath chuckled. “He’s happy to see you, but he’s a suspicious one.”

  “You can tell that by just looking at him?” Lady Penelope asked.

  “I think you can do the same with Bessie,” Heath replied. “There comes a time when their souls become a part of ours, and when that point comes, we can tell anything about them.”

  Lady Penelope had a strange marveling look on her face as she looked to him. She then laughed softly, “And here I thought I was the only one who thought that way.”

  Her hands rose to Duke’s shoulder and ran over his smooth coat. “He’s a gentle giant, Mr. Moore.”

  Heath did not reply for a while before he said, “Thank you.”

  Curious honey-gold eyes met his, and Heath could see she was wondering what the thank you was for. Perhaps it was for her compliment for his horse, or if she thought back, she could deduce that it was for not telling her brother about his spying on her.

  Then her soft golden orbs dimmed to thick honey as she lit upon the true reason. Her smile was only a soft curve of her lips, but it was more radiant to Heath than a full-on, white-toothed grin. Heath was thankful that she did not need to dig under his words and ask what they meant. She did not need to ask him to know how grateful that he was that she had probably saved his position by keeping silent. Because she knew. She just knew.

  Her next words were simple, but they were very heavy at the same time, “You are welcome.”

  Chapter 10

  “Martha…” Penelope said, as Mr. Moore helped her up into the carriage that was soon to trundle through the gas-lit streets of London. They were on their way to the Blackwood home in Mayfair, toward the ball her brother told her about a week ago. “Remind me why I agreed to go to this dratted ball again?”

  “My Lady, you did not really agree,” a humored Martha said from her across the seat. “It was your idea in the first place.”

  Penelope lips puckered, “Next time I have a similar idea, please call the people from Bedlam to get me.”

  A gloved hand covered Martha’s mouth as she hid her smile. Penelope eyed her, “At least you could have allowed me to wear my first pick of a dress, instead of this one.”

  The ballgown she wore was made of dark golden silk and her neck graced with a string of simple pearls. She fingered the string, rolling the small smooth balls between her thumb and forefinger.

  “That dress, My Lady,” Martha said with horrified tones, “was a pale paisley outdated monstrosity with buttons up the back to your neck that flared out at your hips unnaturally, like a ghostly wide-hoops. It made you look shapeless.”

  “Which was the point,” Penelope groaned. “I had hoped to dissuade conversation.”

  The door to the carriage opened, and Edward stepped inside to sit across from her and beside Martha. The Earl was dapper in a dark jacket, trousers, and a dark-blue waistcoat that matched his eyes. His jacked parted to reveal the silver time fob pinned to his waistcoat.

  Instantly, he looked at her, “What are you planning?”

  “Nothing,” Penelope said sullenly.

  “Gads, Penelope,” Edward huffed while tapping the roof, unspoken command for the driver to go. “You promised to socialize.”

  “‘Good day’ seems social enough.”

  “And promised to dance.”

  “That was for our ball,” Penelope said defensively, “not the Blackwood one.”

  “It does not matter. You will not escape to the library either,” Edward added.

  Narrowing her eyes, Penelope said through gritted teeth, “Eddie!”

  “You promised,” the Earl said stiffly. “Even if you did not agree to those terms, but those are the terms you must agree to after you pledged to socialize.”

  Confound his logic.

  “Fine,” Penelope sighed and twisted her head out the window. Her eyes traced the dark forms of the trees lining the road, and she hoped her pensive stare hid the anxiety lingering just below the surface. She did not want her nerves to show. She could not afford to be nervous.

  It had been a while since she had been in a ballroom and even longer since she had truly danced the list of a ballroom country dances. The very thought of dancing the waltz terrified her as being in close contact was not her strong suit.

  I am sure I’ll be the talk of London tomorrow. Perhaps the headline of the scandal paper will be, ‘The hermit sister of Lord Allerton has resurfaced from her hidey hole. Ready your materials, men, hunting season is afoot. She may run, she may hide, but she is up for the taking. A fifty-thousand-pound dowry might spur your heels’.

  Dimly, she heard a polite conversation between Edward and Martha, but it was cut short after inquiries about each other’s health. Edward was speaking, but she did not focus on his words.

  “Penelope!” he snapped.

  She jumped. “Sorry?”

  The irritation on her brother’s face smoothed out into sympathy. Penelope nearly recoiled. Her mask had dropped and he was seeing right through her. Edward then reached over and took her gloved hand in his. “It will be all right, Penelope. I promise. I understand that this is your first try, so I don’t expect you to go to extreme lengths to prove your commitment.”

  “I will still be the centerpiece of attention,” Penelope said dryly.

  “Be that is it may,” Edward consoled while patting her hand. “Do not push yourself too far. I do not expect you to come out with a husband tonight.”

  But you would not mind, either.

  Managing a smile, the rest of the hour trip to Mayfair was done in soft silence. Edward’s words—though aimed to be comforting—did not lessen her anxiety. In the quiet, she did not remember a single face of the women she had met in London over two years ago. Perhaps, seeing faces would unearth the names of those who she truly did not recall.

  Then again, they might just think I’m snobbish.

  Carriages were lined up on the Mayfair road to the townhome, and they inched forward at a snail’s pace.

  “Gads, Eddie!” Penelope peeked around the curtain, “Is the Regent himself at this ball?”

  “Edward,” the Earl snipped. “For the last time, it is Edward, Penelope.”

  When they finally go
t to the entrance, the carriage door was opened by Mr. Moore. Edward alighted first unattended, but then it was her turn. Mr. Moore’s tall black-clad form nearly merged with the night around him, and his white-buckskin gloved hand whispered again her silk as he took her hand.

  “My Lady,” he bowed, and the moonlight ran over the brim of his top hat.

  “Thank you, Mr. Moore,” Penelope said while reaching into her pearl-studded reticule for her fan. Which her nervous fingers promptly dropped.

  She blushed as Mr. Moore fetched it for her and pressed it into her hand. “Er…my glove was slippery.”