Loving a Fearless Duchess Page 13

  She pushed his arm playfully. He fell over, his laughter making him too weak to get up.

  Once Penelope was satisfied with Helen’s progress, she and Nash took their carriage to call on Cecilia and Edward. Their butler, Simons let them in, trying but failing to look stoic. Nash was sure every servant in the house was as happy as Simons.

  *****

  Cecilia and Edward joined them in the parlour shortly after they arrived, and tea was served promptly.

  Nash observed, “I think, at least for today, your servants are the happiest in London. Fear not, once they get to know you, Edward –”

  Penelope huffed. “Stop that.” She turned to her mother, “Are you settling in? Do you need anything?”

  “Penelope, I have more than I could ever need. This house is lovely. I think Edward and I will be happy here.”

  Nash sat up straight. “Good, because Penelope and I are leaving, and we expect to be gone two months.”

  Penelope gasped and said, “Two months?”

  At the same time, Edward said, “About time you went on your honeymoon.”

  Penelope looked at Edward. “Excuse me, Edward.”

  She turned to her husband, “Two months?”

  Her reaction was just as he predicted. “Not longer, Nash. Shorter. Two months is far too long.”

  “Penelope, you know the time it takes to travel. We’ll need two months if we are to stay in one place longer than a day.”

  “Nash, this is a honeymoon, not the Grand Tour … We simply don’t need that amount of time.”

  Nash looked at the ceiling, counting to ten. He hoped Penelope thought he was distressed. This would only work if she did.

  “What is here in London that you cannot be gone on your honeymoon with your husband? A lover, perhaps?”

  Penelope gasped, and then laughed. “You’re trying to bait me.”

  Nash got up and paced. “No, I’m trying to go on my honeymoon.”

  Edward took the chair next to Penelope. “Perhaps I can help? I’ve heard a lot of men at the club talk about their honeymoon.”

  He and Nash had arranged Edward’s participation in Penelope’s objection. Nash let him continue.

  Edward said, “Well, most gentlemen take honeymoons between six weeks and three months. Why? Most travel to Paris and spend a week or two there then move on to their destination, usually somewhere in Italy or Greece. Magnificent places to honeymoon to be sure. Almost to a man, they say this type of honeymoon has been a success.”

  Nash was amused to discover the only words Penelope heard from Edward’s perfect description of the honeymoon was “six weeks.”

  “Six weeks, you say Edward?” Penelope said, tilting her head to Nash.

  Nash pretended to act irritated. “Did you have to mention six weeks, Edward?” But he was satisfied. He came in looking for six weeks, and his honeymoon would be six weeks long.

  Edward shrugged, trying to keep his smile to himself.

  After a long sigh, Nash said, “Fine, six weeks. We are spending time in Paris and will sail to Sicily. We’ll just have to hurry ourselves along.”

  “Oh, stop acting like a boy who has had his favourite toy taken away. We’ll have plenty of time.”

  Cecilia said, “Now that the honeymoon has been settled, we will have to hurry the big wedding along.”

  Nash looked at Penelope. “Well, Nash and I think we’ll get married after the honeymoon.

  Both Cecilia and Edward laughed.

  Nash and Penelope looked at each other. Cecilia saw them and stopped laughing.

  “You are serious?” she said.

  “We are. And we want you to be a very big part of it,” Penelope said.

  She and Cecilia had a conversation with voices low so Nash and Edward couldn’t hear. He couldn’t vouch for Edward, but Nash was thankful he couldn’t hear it.

  Finally, mother and daughter broke from their private talk to acknowledge the men in the room. Penelope spoke, looking into Nash’s eyes. Nash knew that look. She was going to stand her ground. Cecilia sat straight, arms crossed. These women were serious.

  Penelope asked Nash, “Exactly when were you thinking we would be going on this honeymoon?”

  Nash looked Penelope in the eyes while he scrambled for the right answer. He never could figure her out, and he wasn’t going to start now. He would never come up with the right answer.

  “One week,” he said. Then he wanted to hide until the fallout was over.

  Penelope seemed to relax. “Then it’s settled. We’ll go in ten days. That will give Mother and me time to plan everything she will need to do while we’re gone. And it will give me time to visit the modiste. I’ll need to know what kind of weather we should expect.”

  Nash relaxed as well. “I love you, dear Penelope.”

  Penelope gasped and looked around the room. “Nash.”

  Nash took his eyes off Penelope and looked at Cecilia. “What is Cook serving this evening?”

  Chapter 16

  Nash, Penelope, Cecilia, and Edward were sitting in Nash and Penelope’s parlour. All breathed a sigh of relief that they weren’t under Avery’s roof any longer.

  Nash wondered about the arrangement. Avery seemed happy to have them live with him, and it didn’t hurt his reputation that his sister’s family lived there.

  But he also seemed to keep his distance. Or maybe that wasn’t it. He always seemed to separate his life from Cecilia’s and her family. Her friends were her friends, and his friends were his.

  Edward didn’t think his uncle would introduce him to a girl he might be interested in. Their social lives didn’t mix.

  Except for Henry. He always seemed to be in their way, making his presence known. Cecilia thought Avery wouldn’t introduce Henry to his friends’ daughters any more than he would Edward.

  Nash asked, “I hope I’m not being too forward, but I’ve always been curious about how you came to live with Avery. I think I would enjoy hearing the story.

  Edward said, “Enjoy is the wrong word. But we’d be fine about telling it, Mother? Penelope?”

  They nodded.

  “It all began when our father died.”

  Mother looked blank. Standing in front of the gaping hole in the ground in the shade of the church, her eyes were open, but Edward knew she did not see.

  He held Penelope’s hand firmly. He didn’t want Cecilia to disrupt her and inadvertently rebuff Penelope. At ten, Penelope wouldn’t understand why her mother would be so unresponsive.

  Neither did Edward. Only two years older, he was doing his best to handle as much as he could. Twice he shut the door on a man who wanted to look to buy the furniture in the house.

  Did they need to sell the furniture for money so they could eat? He didn’t know. He wished he could ask his father these things. Instead, his father dropped dead before Edward could even think to ask a question.

  The service was over. The prayers at the cemetery were over. The townspeople had dispersed. The priest went to his mother, “Lay Balfour. Could you come into the rectory for a moment?”

  She nodded. Edward didn’t believe she had any idea why she did. Someone asked her a question, and she nodded.

  Edward followed his mother while he still held Penelope’s hand. He doubted he would let it go for the rest of the day.

  The priest offered them all seats. “Lady Balfour, I need the names of your next of kin. The church needs to notify them about your husband’s death. Kin on his side of the family as well as on your side of the family.”

  Cecilia responded by looking up into the priest’s eyes. “Father Jerry?”

  The priest picked up her hand and swallowed it with both his hands.

  “Lady Balfour, I’m Father Stevens. Father Jerry left the parish four years ago. I know you know this. Your family never missed mass.”

  The priest breathed deep. He glanced at Edward and Penelope, and then his gaze turned back to Cecilia.

  “Lady Balfour, can I get you tea? Would
you like a few minutes to collect yourself?”

  She looked at him, puzzled. “Whatever for?”

  He turned to the children. “Lord Edward. Would you be able to supply me with the names and whereabouts of your kin?”

  Edward squirmed in his seat. “I only know one. His name is Lord Avery Stanton. He is my mother’s brother. Uncle Avery.”

  Father Stevens nodded. “Her brother. That’s good. A close relative. Do you remember any other kin?”

  Edward shook his head. “No.”

  “All right. I will write to your uncle. Do you know where he lives? Did you ever visit him?”

  “No. He and my father weren’t close. My mother said it was too far to go for two people who don’t get along.”

  The priest moved in his chair, closer to Edward. “I need to know where he lives. Do you know his profession? Does he have a wife and children? Think of everything you’ve been told.”

  Edward looked back at his mother. She was staring, not having moved during this conversation.

  “He’s of no profession. He’s some sort of Lord. He has a country estate – I don’t know where. He has a London townhouse. I think, but I’m not sure. My mother had a dowry.”

  “Edward, you’ve helped quite a bit. I need to get my hands on a copy of Debrett’s Peerage, then I can locate him.”

  “What is that?”

  “It’s a book published every year that lists all the lords. Everyone in the House of Lords. In case you want to know how they will vote on an issue, or if they are single or where they live or which club they belong to.”

  Penelope looked at Edward. “Can we go home?”

  Without waiting for permission from the priest, Edward said yes and rose.

  Father Stevens rose also. “I will notify you when I hear back from Avery Stanton. Take care of your mother. I’ll check in on you.”

  Edward lifted his mother out of the chair, taking her hand and pulling it up. They walked home.

  Edward put his mother in the parlour and made her tea. He allowed Penelope to bring in the tray and pour. He told Penelope to sit with her, but she was not to expect any talking from her. Their mother was in shock.

  He checked every kitchen cabinet and the pantry to see how long the food would last. He searched for money. Did Father have a money jar? Did he keep it under the bed? He would search there now. He would search the rest of the house when his mother went to bed.

  Edward was hungry. He would have to make dinner for the three of them. He checked the parlour.

  He walked in to see a teacup on the table in front of his mother. “Anything?” he said to Penelope.

  She shook her head, tears in her eyes. “I talked to her. I sang her favourite song. Nothing.”

  Edward nodded. “Are you hungry?”

  Penelope nodded.

  “I’m going to make something; I don’t know what. And Mother won’t eat much, but maybe the smell of food will make her eat something.”

  Penelope looked up at him. “Do you want me to help?”

  “Have you ever cooked before?”

  “No. Not really. Just watched.”

  Edward shook his head. “We’re better off if I cook and you watch Mother.”

  Edward went back to the kitchen and looked in the cauldron. Stew toward the bottom. He cut a carrot and put it in then stirred the mixture.

  The heat was loosening the broth. It was a nice thick consistency the way Edward liked it. But they would need it for another day. He added water.

  When it was ready, he put it in three bowls, making the third bowl less than the other two. If she ate at all, he would get more for her.

  Penelope and Edward each took an arm and led her into the dining room. They sat her down between them. Edward and Penelope ate what they had then weren’t so hungry. Edward took her spoon and pressed a little through her lips, hoping the taste would wake up her senses. No luck.

  They guided their mother upstairs to her bedchamber. It was the nicest in the area but was modest compared to the descriptions they heard of houses built on faraway estates. Still, Father did well enough in the shipping business.

  Edward left his mother fully dressed in the middle of the bed. He built a fire then left Penelope to make their mother comfortable. She took off her mother’s short boots and stockings and put them all in front of the fire. She turned her mother sideways and undid the buttons from her neck to past her waist. Then she slipped off the dress and left her mother in her chemise. After covering her, she left the room.

  “Should I sleep in there tonight? What if she wakes in the night?”

  Edward’s shoulders sagged. “I’ll sleep there. She’s too heavy for you to carry.”

  Penelope said, “I’ll sleep in bed with her and wake you from the settee if I need you.”

  Edward agreed, and they both went to prepare for bed. When they came back, Penelope settled in with their mother, and he brought a blanket to the settee. He swore Penelope grew up a year in a day. He hated her childhood slipping from her grasp. The second thing this week that would never be back.

  Slowly, at a pace made for a snail, Cecilia returned. A cup of tea here, a brush of her hair there. Progress was slow but measurable. Edward was thrilled when she started to speak.

  He had searched everywhere for money. There was no place he hadn’t looked. He needed his mother to tell him where it was.

  “Mother,” he said slowly, “do you know the hiding places in the house?”

  Cecilia looked at him. “That seems like an odd question. Hiding places? Where are the hiding places, Edward?”

  “No, Mother. I don’t know where there are hiding places. Do you know where there are hiding places?”

  “No. Do you think I hide my undergarments?”

  Edward closed his eyes and counted to ten. He needed that money. After close to a week, the kitchen was beginning to run low on food.

  The next day, Edward tried a different approach. “Mother, we need more food. Where’s the money?”

  “What money, Edward?”

  “The money we used to buy food. Where is it?”

  “There is no money to buy food. There’s money for whisky and money for gambling, but there’s no money for food.”

  Edward breathed deep. All that searching, and there was no money. “How did we have food in the kitchen?”

  Cecilia talked to him as if he were a little boy. “I told your father I would go into town and buy his whisky. He gave me his money to pay for it. I bought whisky and food. I paid a boy to bring the food to the back door. I came in through the front door with the whisky. Your father got the change. He never knew.”

  Edward began to panic. There was no money and very little food. He hoped the man who wanted to buy their furniture would come back. He’d sell every stick if it meant they could eat for a few weeks.

  Edward told Penelope he was walking into town to get a job. He would see Father Stevens. The priest saw everyone in town every Sunday. He must know who needed help.

  Penelope nodded. “Ask about jobs for girls. I learn fast, and I work hard.”

  Edward nodded although he had no intention of asking the priest to find a job for Penelope.

  “How are you faring there? I keep meaning to visit, but there have been a few difficult problems here that I couldn’t turn my back on. How is your mother?”

  Edward didn’t know how much Father Stevens would like to know, but Edward wanted to unburden himself, and he needed to purge.

  “My mother hasn’t been doing well. She is slowly coming out of her shock. Penelope and I have to each take an arm to move her from one room to the next. She is beginning to speak; she will eat some of the time, and will have tea with Penelope.

  “We are out of food and have no money. Is there anyone in need of a hard-working boy? I need to buy the family food.”

  The priest grimaced. “I don’t know of anyone looking to hire, but I’ll ask around the parish. I can put out a call for food. If every parishioner
brought one item to the church, you could eat for a few weeks. I will do that this Sunday. We live in a very generous village.

  “I have reached out to your uncle. It was not difficult to find him once I went to the Lord in this county seat. He sent a letter. I will go today to see if he got a reply although if he did, he would have surely notified me. He is your best hope.”

  “Thank you, Father. You have given me hope. Asking if anyone needs a helping hand. Asking for food donations. Writing to my kin. Thank you for doing so much for us.”

  Father Stevens opened his mouth to speak and closed it. He cleared his throat. He opened his mouth to speak again. “You must realize, Edward that you cannot go on living in that house, trying to live under such difficult circumstances. You are twelve. Your sister is ten. Even if your mother were her regular self, you face an almost impossible task. I pray every day for your uncle to take you in.”

  Edward tried to conceal the tears in his eyes, but it was impossible. “I need to get back to my mother,” he said. He ran home.

  On Monday, Father Stevens came to visit sitting in a work cart tied to a horse. He parked at the back door.

  He called out to Edward. Both he and Penelope opened the back door to see the cart carrying three potato bags full of food. Father Stevens bounced down to the ground.

  “Let me help you with this bounty. The village answered my call immediately. I asked for donations at mass yesterday, and look how they responded.”

  Penelope was crying as Edward emptied the sacks on the kitchen table.

  Edward had to brace deep so his voice wasn’t high and wavering. “This is more than we could have imagined. What wonderful people. How can I ever repay them?”

  Father Stevens smiled. “On the way here, I wondered what I would say if you asked that question. I think I have an answer. If you went to the village and asked what the people in the village needed done, you could hammer or shovel your way to a thanks.

  “I think they’d be appreciative, and it would only take a day of your time.”

  “I’ll do it. Tell me when and where, and I’ll do it from sunrise to sunset.”

  Father Stevens grinned. “Mind you, they would do it out of the goodness of their heart, but it’s always nice to hear ‘thank you.’“