The Light in the Duke's Shadow: A Historical Regency Romance Book Read online

  Lady Winchester drew herself up, her hands still clasped in front of herself. “I know that you were with the Duke of Richmond last night. I heard your voices. I never would have suspected that you would behave so recklessly. You have put not only your future and reputation at risk but also that of your family.”

  “Nothing happened between the Duke and me, Mother. You have to believe me,” Penelope begged. She shook her head. “We were only talking. I saw him in the hallway when I went to leave my room last night after awakening, and he seemed distraught.”

  With a shake of her head, Lady Winchester scolded, “A distraught man does not need a lady alone in his room with him.”

  “We were not in his room or mine. We simply stepped into the room because he did not wish to be overheard,” Penelope said then cringed at how her words sounded once they left her mouth. “I did not mean that in any foul way.”

  Lady Winchester scoffed, “It hardly matters how you meant it, Penelope.” She sighed. “The facts remain that you have been alone with a man, completely unchaperoned in the middle of the night. That will all but kill any chances you have at finding a decent match if word gets out about it, and it almost always does on things like this.”

  “Mother, you work yourself into a frenzy over nothing,” Penelope said with a shake of her head. “The Duke asked for my hand in marriage last night. We shall marry, and all will be well.”

  Lady Winchester did not look the least bit impressed with Penelope’s disclosure. “Men often say things in the dark that they promptly forget, Penelope. I have heard of no such tidings from your father, and I am sure he would not have kept the Duke speaking to him of marriage to himself.”

  “He hardly had time to speak, now did he? You sent him off straight away this morning!” Penelope stamped her foot. “Is that why you sent off that letter to his household? You thought I had been around with him last night, and you wanted him gone?”

  If Penelope had been expecting her mother to look embarrassed, the woman proved her wrong. Lady Winchester frowned at her daughter. “I hardly think anyone could blame me for my actions. I did what I thought was necessary to protect you since you seem to not know any better.”

  “I can protect my own virtue, Mother,” Penelope insisted. “I know that we have had a hard time of it lately with our disagreements at how the Season has been progressing, but I have only the best of intentions.”

  Lady Winchester nodded. “That may be true. It, however, is up to the Duke to follow through, and I certainly hope he shall.”

  Penelope gave up and turned away from her mother. She tried to will herself to just remain calm. Her mother was often a bit high-strung, and once Jules talked to her father, everything would be sorted out.

  “I know why you have been making such poor appearances, you know,” Lady Winchester said. Her voice held a tone of sadness that made Penelope turn around to look at her mother. The woman stood as still as a statue and eyed Penelope back before she nodded. “When I couldn’t find you initially, I went into your room, and I found my journal.”

  Penelope’s mouth fell open. “You snooped in my room? You destroyed what privacy I had because you could not readily find me?”

  “And you have been deliberately sabotaging your social appearances because of the ramblings of a young wife,” Lady Winchester countered. “Do you know how foolish that is?”

  Penelope laughed in disbelief. “I was perfectly happy to go out and be on display for my family. I was happy to hunt for a husband.” She put her hands on her hips. “Your journal is of little consequence; what turned for me was finding all of the journals. One journal can easily be dismissed, Mother, but I found journals for generations of women in our family. They all said the same thing: marriage contains only misery.”

  “This is why I removed those journals from the country estate and brought them here,” Lady Winchester said with a sigh. “When I was your age, my mother gave me those journals. Forewarned was forearmed, she said.” Lady Winchester frowned and eyed Penelope sadly. “It’s tradition, to hand those journals down, and I swore it would stop with me. All it does is perpetuate this cycle of misery that seems inevitable but we place upon ourselves.”

  Penelope scoffed, “But Grandfather and Father—”

  “Were and are good men with bad traits,” Lady Winchester finished for Penelope. “Men have flaws, Penelope. Grand flaws, at that, but they are just flaws. Your father’s greed and brashness get in the way of the man he was.”

  Penelope’s shoulders slumped. “So you do love Father?”

  “We have an understanding,” Penelope’s mother said before she pressed her lips together. She seemed to think for a moment before she added, “I was very taken with him when we were courting and first married.”

  Penelope whispered, “So, you do not actually love him?”

  “Love is a foolish idea set forth by poets. A woman’s place is to obey her husband, and once you accept that, you see that things are better for it.” Lady Winchester smiled at her daughter. “That’s why your grandmother gave me those journals as her mother had before her. They wanted the women to understand that this is the way things are. To me it only made it feel hopeless. It did not make me feel as if I were fulfilling my duty to my family.”

  Penelope sighed and put her hand to her head. “But the Duke is so passionate and kind. Surely not all men turn out to be such brutes.”

  “My darling girl, do you think your father was a loud, boorish brute when I met him?” Lady Winchester laughed and said, “No. Your father was a determined man. He was going to make his mark. I could see that the first moment he was introduced to me. He was obsessed with making his name, and I thought that there was a man worthy of following.”

  Penelope frowned. “He certainly still is concerned for his name.”

  “Yes, and he is still worthy of following. I might not agree with his way of doing things all the time, but he is my husband. I follow his lead,” Lady Winchester said with a certainty that made Penelope’s heart ache.

  Drawing in a breath, Penelope pondered what her mother had said. Had her father truly been so passionate and full of life? “Love should not be about who follows and who leads. Love should be beyond such horrid ways of thinking.”

  “Your father was right about those poets of Miss Lorraine, I am afraid,” Lady Winchester said with a sigh. “Penelope, marriage is a practical thing. It is a necessary thing, for you and your future children. Women, despite the few exemptions, simply are at a great disadvantage in this world. You must accept this or I fear you will be as miserable as the women in those journals you are so eager to read about. Do you not know why the journals stopped after the first years of marriage?”

  Penelope folded her arms. “I suppose that they, yourself included, gave up on such fanciful things.”

  “In a way,” Lady Winchester admitted with a nod of her head. “It is a woman’s place to find peace and fulfillment within her home. One cannot do that and entertain such horribly undermining thoughts. I was remiss in giving you too much freedom perhaps. I thought that after my rigid upbringing one of lighter restraint would serve you better, but that appears to have been a miscalculation on my part.”

  Penelope set her chin and said, “I suppose you think me silly for thinking that the Duke is any different than any other man.”

  “I think you should just pray that he is a good, decent man, Penelope. After last night, your reputation very much is in his hands and how he chooses to handle the situation,” Lady Winchester replied. She turned to leave and added, “I hope for your sake that you find peace with your place in the world.”

  As her mother left the room in a whirl of skirts and perfume, Penelope stood with her thoughts. The click of the door brought down the last of her restraints, and she looked over at her paints and easel. She trembled as she walked over to the easel.

  Penelope took a cloth and draped it across the frame with a sigh. “I no longer feel like painting, I think,” she w
hispered to herself.

  If her father had truly started out as someone like Jules, would Jules morph into an uncaring oaf as well? Penelope wandered out of the room hoping that perhaps her mother was somehow wrong. It might be best to guard against losing too much of herself in her admiration for the Duke. If she lost herself, what good would finding the man do her?

  Penelope headed off towards the downstairs rooms of her governess. If anyone could calm her thoughts, perhaps Miss Lorraine could. As she walked, Penelope heard a muffled sob. She peered around and saw one of the bedroom doors slightly open.

  Peering into the room, Penelope caught sight of Gretchen. She pushed the door open and walked over to the maid that was hunched over a bedpost crying softly. “Gretchen?”

  The woman bolted upright and began frantically wiping her eyes. “Oh, Miss. I didn’t hear you come in!”

  “Settle yourself,” Penelope said to the woman as she came over to her. Gretchen’s eyes were red and swollen with tears. “What has happened to make you cry so?”

  Gretchen shook her head, but Penelope put her hand on her shoulder. Finally, Gretchen said in a soft voice, “It’s my mother, Miss. She’s taken a turn. I fear that she won’t make it the week.”

  “I had no idea that things were so dire,” Penelope whispered in horror. “Let us go to her at once then and see she is taken care of.”

  Gretchen’s eyes grew wide. “No, Miss, I couldn’t leave. Your father will fire me for sure if I do.”

  “Nonsense. You will come with me, and we shall get this sorted right now,” Penelope said in her most demanding voice, which she thought sounded oddly like her mother’s voice. She put her arm around the maid’s shoulders and guided her out into the hallway. “I need to go into town anyway, and since Gina is not in today, I shall need a lady in waiting to help me. Do you not think that you would do nicely?”

  Gretchen nodded along with Penelope’s words, some hope shining through the woman’s face. “You’d really do all this for me?”

  “You have helped me in the past, and you are my friend. Of course, I would help you.” Penelope gave the woman an encouraging smile.

  ***

  Finding her father had been easily enough accomplished, and while the man had been a bit put out to hear that Penelope needed one of the maids for the day, he could hardly say no to her reasoning. So, it was with measurable satisfaction that Penelope escorted Gretchen out the front door to the awaiting carriage. The footman Stuart was swiftly over to open the door for them.

  Penelope watched the way Stuart helped Gretchen gently into the carriage, holding onto her elbow just a fraction longer than was necessary. When the man turned toward her, she accepted his help with a smile. As she sat down in the carriage seat, she saw Gretchen’s eyes quickly return from the direction of the young footman.

  As the door closed, Penelope whispered, “Do you fancy Stuart?”

  Gretchen’s mouth fell open. “No, why no. He’s a bit young.”

  “He is not that much younger than you, surely.” Penelope clucked her tongue at the woman. “He seems to be learning his job well. He has settled in and seems likely to have a good career with us.” As she spoke, Penelope fiddled with the lace along the trim of her dress pleats. Her eyes cut up slightly to see the faint blush on Gretchen’s cheeks.

  Gretchen patted her bonnet and said, “My, talking of such things. I don’t know what to say.”

  “Come now,” Penelope chided. “There is nothing wrong with having attachments to people, Gretchen. I think Stuart is a fine-looking young man. Why any girl would be lucky to have him.”

  With an exclamation, Gretchen waved her hand as if to ward off Penelope’s words. “Oh no! I have far too much on my plate to worry about a man.”

  “Well, we shall just have to lighten your load then. Besides, are not husbands supposed to take on a share of the weight for their wives?” Penelope thought about what her mother had said earlier. “It is hard to make it in the world on your own as a woman. Men might be a bit perplexing, but they serve a purpose.”

  Gretchen frowned. “My mum talks about me getting a man. I had a man once; he was not a kind fellow. I swore I would never have another.”

  “I have sworn that myself,” Penelope said with a grin. “And I have not yet had one.”

  Gretchen despite herself laughed. It was the first time that Penelope could remember seeing the woman so lost in mirth. “Forgive me, Miss, but I thought you were quite taken with that young Duke.”

  It was Penelope’s turn to gape at the woman. She soon found herself laughing along with Gretchen. “To tell the truth, I am a bit. And I hope he is with me as well, but time will tell. You and Stuart though need intervention now. Something tells me that he likes you.”

  “Do you really think so, Miss?” Gretchen was leaning forward now. “He might be older than you, but he’s younger than I am. I’m just some old spinster, aren’t I? Who would want that?”

  Penelope pursed up her lips. “By the looks of him, I would say Stuart. If you want, I could possibly find out for sure what he thinks of you?”

  “Oh no, you couldn’t, Miss,” Gretchen insisted as she put her hand over her chest. “It wouldn’t do at all.”

  Penelope frowned and sighed. “If you will not venture to do so, and you forbade me from doing so, then how will we know?”

  “Well, you just know, or you don’t, Miss,” Gretchen said with a shake of her head. “Besides, I have to focus on my mum right now.”

  Penelope agreed with a nod. “Then that is what we shall do, but there is nothing say we cannot make headway in both ventures.”

  “You have always been a stubborn one, Miss,” Gretchen said with a smile which Penelope returned.

  Penelope leaned back in her carriage seat and waited for them to arrive at Gretchen’s address. It took longer than Penelope would have thought, but it was hardly worth mentioning. She had sent a note along to the doctor and another carriage to fetch him. Hopefully, they arrived before the man so that Penelope could assess the best course of action, not that she was well-versed in such things. However, her experience with the Duke had taught her that she had a duty, and she could fulfill it well enough.

  The carriage slowed to a stop. Penelope leaned forward to look out the carriage door just before it was pulled open by Reginald as Stuart put down the footstool for them to step out of the carriage onto. “Let me go first, Miss,” Gretchen said.

  Penelope leaned back out of the way and waved for Gretchen to go ahead. It was the woman’s home, after all, Penelope reasoned. She would need to show them where to go, and it would be best not to startle the locals too much.

  Gretchen was swiftly out of the carriage, and Penelope noticed that the woman looked years younger when she was in her own element rather than cowering in the hallways of the manor house. Gretchen worked for their family exclusively at the manor house in London, so Penelope did not know her quite as well as she did some of the other staff.

  The tall building that Gretchen was walking towards swiftly while clutching her shawl around her shoulders looked far too run down for anyone to actually live there. Penelope grimaced as she held up her skirt to follow Gretchen along the walkway to what looked like the front door. “It looks empty,” Penelope remarked.

  Stuart who had fallen into step beside Penelope said, “A lot of the buildings here are abandoned. The people who the buildings were made for have since lost their income or moved on to places closer to the factories. I wager most of the people living here are tradesmen.”