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

by Linfield, Emma

  “Lady Cheltenham will see you now, Lady Dawson,” the Butler bowed just as the lady glided into the room. She and Martha stood and greeted her.

  Helena smiled and sat on the snow-white chaise longue, the skirts of her tulle blue dress fluttering gracefully around her like petals in the wind. “Lady Penelope, how nice to see you.”

  Taking in a shuddering breath, Penelope shoved the real reason she had come to discuss aside, introducing Martha and Mr. Moore and began with safe topics like the recent books she had read and the local balls coming up.

  Lady Cheltenham spoke easily for a while before she cocked her head to the side, “Lady Penelope, would you accompany me for a moment?”

  With a quick confirming look to Martha and Heath, she stood and followed Helena out of the room. They came to a stop a few rooms away from the drawing room and entered a small room where Helena tugged her to a nearby seat. “So, what are you truly here about?”

  Penelope would have wanted to laugh that the lady had seen right through her but opted to shake her head instead. “I…I had come to ask you about Edward. I know you have better prospects when it comes to money and status but…Edward truly loves you, Helena. Mayhap it’s the romantic in me that thinks you cannot swap those things for true happiness, and I know you’d find it with Edward.”

  Helena’s blue eyes dimmed. “I know but…I cannot go against my parents. Marrying beneath the level they want from me would be equal to eloping. They would never forgive me.”

  “But…?”

  “But what?” Helena asked.

  “But what about love?” Penelope pressed. “Would they not relent for something as precious as that?”

  “I don’t know if my parents believe in the validity of a love match,” Helena said wryly.

  Sitting back and nibbling on her lip, Penelope wondered what she could do to press the issue but didn’t find a way to do so. She looked quickly at Helena, saw a patient look in her eyes and felt, inordinately, that the lady was…waiting? Had she read that correctly? Was she waiting and for what? Moreover, how could anyone not see the soundness of a love match?

  “It's much easier to settle for money and being taken care of,” Helena said with dry mirth. It was only then Penelope realized she had spoken it out loud and promptly blushed.

  Helena then leaned forward. “Do you know what love is, Penelope, dear?”

  “Apart from what I’ve seen in books, no,” she replied ashamedly.

  “You should look closer than that,” Helena smiled, “over your shoulder, close.”

  Penelope startled, over my shoulder…what on earth does she mean by that? Then she remembered, Heath had stood over her shoulder. Had he looked at her that way? That was not known of him, his face was normally expressionless.

  “W-what do you mean?”

  “Mr. Moore,” Helena said while sitting back. “I saw it when he looks at you. You may not know it, but he is very…protective of you. I don’t know what you did, but you have earned his loyalty.”

  How had the conversation spun to her after she had come to speak about Helena and Edward? “Thank you?”

  Helena’s musical laugh mollified her anxiety. She had not expected Heath to come up in the conversation, but Helena had. “He is uncommonly handsome for a footman though a good part of their job requirement is to be so.”

  “Do you not see it?” Helena‘s eyebrows were up. “He looks at you with such tenderness in his eyes and a fierce protectiveness too.”

  Squirming in her seat, Penelope tried to form words, any words to stop Helena’s almost Oracle-insight into her life with Heath further but her hesitance was enough ammunition for her friend.

  “You have!” Helena said delightedly.

  “He kissed me,” Penelope blurted out before mortifications lit her chest afire. Her hand clamped over her wayward mouth, but her words had already taken effect. Helena gasped out a noise between a shriek and a squeal. Penelope hurriedly went to quiet her.

  “Shhh,” she shushed with red lancing over her face, while stifling the urge to throw guilt-laced looks over her shoulder. “Please. You cannot tell anyone, please. Edward might sell me off to the highest bidder faster than it would take me to blink.”

  A delicate hand waved in her face, “I won’t tell a soul, I promise.”

  Breathing out, Penelope sagged back and said balefully. “We’re a pair, aren’t we? Both stopped because of status concerns.”

  “So, you do love him then,” Helena said.

  “I…I don’t know,” Penelope admitted. “Are there any known signs that say you’re in love?”

  “I cannot tell you that,” Helena said as she stood to go rejoin the others, “It’s different for every person, well those who allow themselves to try and seek it. I know when I used to look at Edward, my heart would do this silly little hiccup at me and my breath would catch. Love is funny Penelope—it can be wonderful if done right…but I can ruin you for the rest of your life. Once your heart is broken…it might never heal.”

  Her words felt ominous and a soft shiver ran over Penelope’s skin. She saw Helena and knew she was speaking from experience. She did love Edward. Reaching over she took her hand. “You’ll find it again. I know you will.”

  They went back to see Martha and Heath chatting softly, with Martha sipping from a glass of juice and Heath still standing like a monolith. Penelope turned to hug Helena and smiled. “Come visit me soon.”

  Apprehensiveness, mostly at the chance of coming across Edward, who she still loved, creased her face but she nodded, “I’ll do my best.”

  Goodbyes and well-wishes were said, and Penelope looked over at Heath with unveiled eyes. There was more protectiveness there than tenderness, but she did see them there. The ride home was done just as peaceably as before, but she could not hide her sigh of disappointment. Unless Helena’s parents relented, she would be married off to a man she did not love.

  “Well,” she breathed. “That was not a total loss.”

  “Lady Cheltenham won’t change her mind then,” Martha who accurately surmised why she had gone there in the first place, said.

  “Not…” Penelope searched for the right words. Did she dare assume? “Not at this moment but I know she still loves Eddie. I think she needs to remember how they were a few years ago. Eddie was a like a lovesick puppy around her, not this grouchy old man I have to endure day after day.”

  “And you think his attitude comes from missing her?” Martha inquired.

  “Oh,” Penelope nodded, “I know it. Eddie has always been a bit of petulant when he was younger, but it doubled when she left him.”

  “And how do you plan to get them together?” Martha asked.

  There, she was at a loss and muttered, “I…think Edward got scared and gave up too quickly. I am not sure if I judged it correctly, but I saw…or rather felt, that she was waiting for Edward to come back and try. Eddie, however, ran and hid like a scared cat when another suitor entered the contest.”

  Martha’s lips pressed tightly but the edges still curled up. “I wouldn’t say that in front of him if I were you.”

  Home was quiet and Penelope went to her rooms while thinking on how to get Edward to grow some courage and go reacquaint himself with Helena.

  Here I am trying to fix my brother's life while ignoring mine, and I’d like my life to be with Heath. Heath Moore.

  Why was it that fate had decided to draw the line and made Heath to intersect it as a servant? Could he not had been given the role of Lord of the Realm instead? Shaking her head, she went to her brother’s study but barely got there before heard voices down the corridor.

  The voices were so artificially loud, made somehow by the emptiness of the corridor that made the sounds echo. Her eyes widened, it was Hillbrook.

  “Do you think I am blind, servant?” Hillbrook hissed. “I see how you look at her. Who do you think you are? Penelope will never look upon you with favor. You are the help. She’ll only be with me.”

&nbs
p; “His Lordship asked me to be Lady Penelope’s guard in light of the unfortunate incidents occurring in his home,” Heath’s voice was level and a bit empty. “There is nothing more to it, My Lord. Any interaction between me and Her Ladyship is nothing more than me performing my duty.”

  “Do you dare be patronizing?” Hillbrook said acidly. “To me? Your betters? I will have Dawson dismiss you forthwith.”

  “Pardon me?” Penelope’s interruption was poisonously sweet as she left her hiding place. Hillbrook’s face went bloodless. “I don’t think I heard you clearly, Lord Hillbrook, what was that about a dismissal?”

  Chapter 25

  Seeing Penelope’s eyes blaze with anger tempted Heath to smile. She was glaring at Hillbrook with a severity that would have made him flinch if he had been on the receiving end. Sensibly, he stepped back and allowed Penelope to put the entitled lord in his place.

  “What was that again?” she asked sweetly.

  “I only meant that,” Hillbrook words were slow, an obvious ploy to think something appropriate, “it is unseemly for Mr. Moore to be so close to you.”

  “Unseemly,” Penelope said in the same patient sickly-sweet tone. “And who appointed you judge of what exactly is unseemly?”

  Hillbrook’s eyes lowered, “It’s in the very definition of the word. There should be a professional distance between you two.”

  “I understand,” Penelope said easily. “Let me assure you, Hillbrook, the rules of society are there for a reason, but you have no say in my home, what I do inside it or the boundaries I set for those who are around me. To belay your fears, there is nothing unseemly between Mr. Moore and me. Your suspicions are unfounded, and I do not appreciate you threatening Mr. Moore.”

  “Lady Penelope, I meant no harm,” the Baron said placatingly.

  “Yes, you did,” she said simply. “You might be here for my brother, but please leave, Lord Hillbrook.”

  “My Lady—”

  “Please,” she said while stepping aside.

  Hillbrook looked to her then to Heath and shook his head, “My apologies, My Lady. Have a good evening.”

  She pivoted on her heel to watch him walk away and when his back disappeared, she turned to Heath. “He had no right to abuse you like that.”

  “Unfortunately,” Heath replied mirthlessly while looking in the same direction. “I have been subjected to similar treatments before. Some much more…uncouth.”

  “You shouldn’t have,” she said tightly in agitation. Reached out, she took his hand, loving her feel of his calluses against her softer skin. “No one deserves condescension and disdain from anyone, no matter their status in life.”

  “Sadly,” Heath said quietly. “It will never stop. The ugly truth is that servants are disposable, Penelope. We can be gotten rid without a solid reason.”

  The mere thought of Heath being sent away cut her deeply, too deeply that her feeling of affection and even infatuation would warrant. Why did her chest burn so badly? Did she love him then?

  Heath squeezed her hand before dropping it. “You’re troubled.”

  “Of course, I’m troubled,” she grimaced. “I don’t want you to go…anywhere.”

  “Why?”

  His eyes were shimmering gemstones under the hood of his brows while his quiet question settled on her heart.

  Why? Why…because I think my heart might be shattered if you do go.

  Her smile was wan, “Because I’m selfish and you…speak to horses.”

  That was no real reason at all, and they both knew it. “I think it’s time for you to have dinner. Will you allow me to escort you to the dining room?”

  “I’d like nothing more,” she admitted.

  That evening, Heath attended to his duties and went off to bed with a low hollowness in his stomach. Sleep did not come to him again, but the pressure from that night when Penelope had injured herself was not there. However, Penelope was the subject of his thoughts.

  Nearly ten o’clock he gave up trying to sleep, dressed and found himself in the stables. Duke shifted in his stall, and Heath slid his hand down the stallion’s neck. “How are you, old boy?”

  Again, he wished the animal could answer, but Duke only shook his head, tossing his mane a little. “I have a problem, my friend…I am…in love.” He laughed darkly, “It's either that or I am hosting a brain parasite or…well, possessed. I am in love with Penelope…and I should not be.”

  His acute ears heard quiet footsteps behind him and knew who was there but did not turn. His heartbeat did increase. Perhaps, this was the best way of confessing his emotions, to Duke instead of her.

  “She’s everything any man would want and more than some deserve,” Heath said while pointedly ignoring the soft breaths behind him. “You should have seen her today, defending me. I have seen lionesses before defending their young, but I don’t think any of them were as fiercely wonderful as she was today. I nearly kissed her…”

  He smiled to Duke at the soft gasp behind him, “but I remembered where I was and didn’t.”

  “I wish I had the means to court her, Duke…have the freedom to be with her how I would like to. To give her the life and comfort she needs. She deserves the unique treasures of the earth, gifts as rare and precious as she is. I cannot give her what I would like to give her, and it pains me.”

  Slender arms wrapped around his waist, clasping both hands around his stomach. “You give me enough.”

  He stilled as the feel of her body behind his. “Do I?”

  Dropping his hands from Duke, he covered her hands with his and looked down on the contrast. He stroked her skin and let out a breath, “I should not be in love with you, Penelope.”

  “Why?”

  Now, he felt the hesitancy she had before when he had asked the question to her. Her arms did not slacken, but he turned and placed knuckles under her chin. Because I am not who you think I am…

  “You deserve more than I can give,” Heath said quietly.

  Her snort was soft and amused and Heath felt a bit agitated. “What is so humorous?” he said, frowning.

  “You, darling blind man,” she chided softly while smiling. Carding her hand in the soft hairs behind his head she elaborated. “I don’t need those things to make me happy.”

  He felt he already knew but had to ask anyway, “What do you need then?”

  “For you to kiss me,” she whispered with a trembling voice. “I don’t have the bravery to do it again.”

  Drawing her close he framed a hand around the back of her head, the other under her jaw and leaned in. Her lips parted in anticipation, but he did not kiss her. He softly bushed his nose to hers and breathed out on her lips when he felt her shudder. His lips pressed on her cheek first, dragging slowly to her lips and then, when he could feel her need, he claimed her lips, softly.

  She clung to his shoulders as the kiss deepened and only when his lungs screamed for air, he reluctantly pulled away, as breathless as she was.

  “Again,” she said, and Heath smiled. This kiss was tender with gossamer touches and shivering skin.

  “You taste like peppermint,” Heath said to her ear as she was resting on his chest.

  Having her in her arms, so warm and lithe, felt like the last puzzle piece being slotted into the whole. She completed him and he wanted it to stay that way as long as possible. In that dark stable, cut off from the world of etiquette and customs, right and wrong perceptions made by their stifling society, Heath wanted to shut the world out and stay in the snippet of a world they had created.

  “Heath…” Penelope said.

  “Hm?”

  She pulled away, “Take me for a ride, on Duke.”

  He titled his head, “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, please,”

  His thumb ran down the line of her neck and her eyes fluttered closed. Smirking, Heath said, “I’ll get him saddled.”

  Coaxing Duke out of the stall, Heath quickly saddled him with a rather long saddle and after slippin
g the bit through his teeth laid the reins on his back. He turned and then he first saw what Penelope was wearing—breeches. And by god, did the lady look wonderful in breeches. Her hair was in a braid over the shoulder of her white shirt, an ensemble he could only think was stolen from her brother.

  He reached out for her and she took his hand but before she could think, he moved it, grasped her by the waist and lifted her up onto the saddle without any strain. She gasped and he grinned. “Hercules, where art thou?”

  In response, Heath grasped the pommel and with a foot in the stirrup lifted himself up to sit behind her. The winter air was nippy, slithering under their clothes to trace icy fingers over warm skin. Heath wrapped his arms around her, and she sat back into his hold with a lovely sigh.