The Light in the Duke's Shadow: A Historical Regency Romance Book Page 20

  “I hope he comes,” Penelope said with a frown.

  Flipping some of her long hair over her shoulder, Miss Lorraine eyed Penelope curiously. “Do you not think he shall return?”

  “I was speaking to Mother, and I worry that perhaps she is right and I am wrong when it comes to men and love,” Penelope admitted.

  With an agonised groan, Miss Lorraine said, “Why do you let yourself be compared to her? She and you are very different.”

  “She was a lot like me when she met Father,” Penelope reminded Miss Lorraine.

  The governess rolled her eyes and sighed. “She was not. She had been told what marriage was, and she went into it knowing it would end the way that it has. Do you think that poets just create the romantic notion of love to fill their pockets with coins?”

  “The idea had occurred to me,” Penelope said with a smile.

  Miss Lorraine laughed and shook her finger at Penelope. “And I am not saying they did not perhaps embellish on the emotion a bit, but for centuries stories have been written about faces that set a thousand ships to sail or love that broke all obstacles. These things are not just something Byron and the others created for frivolity.”

  Penelope put her head into her hands. “Why did I find those journals, if not because of some tragic fate?”

  “You found them because you are a curious person,” Miss Lorraine said as she patted Penelope on the back. “Had you been less curious, you would not have been searching out some unknown thing to occupy your mind.”

  Penelope frowned at her governess. “I wish I were less curious.”

  “Now, now, I shall for one dance at your wedding with happiness in my heart because I firmly believe that the Penelope I know will never marry anyone except her one, true love.” Miss Lorraine put her arm around Penelope’s shoulders. “You seemed so sure that there was more to this gentle Duke of yours the last time I saw you. Has something happened?”

  With a shrug, Penelope leaned her head against her governess’ head, much as she had done when she was a little girl. “I spoke to him at night, whispered conversation of dreams and hopes. He said he would forsake his quest if I would accept him as my husband.”

  “You did not do anything else?” Miss Lorraine asked hurriedly.

  Penelope set up and shook her head. “Nothing happened, a brief kiss. That is all. Mother, however, has unravelled it, and she is so sore at me about it. She spoke to me, and I find that the more I hear of what she went through with Father, the more I relate to it. That frightens me so, Miss Lorraine.”

  “Never you mind what your mother says, sweetie. She speaks from a place of fear for you, and although her goal may be pure, she will crack your very foundation if you let her,” Miss Lorraine said in a soothing tone.

  Penelope nodded her head slowly. “I shall try to remember that I am not her.” Penelope sighed. “Tell me something wonderful to get my mind off of all of this.”

  Miss Lorraine shrugged lightly, her hands held up helplessly. “I know of nothing I can say. I did get word that my captain may be in by this evening. He is running an errand that brings him through London, and I have lamented that I have not seen him in so long.”

  “I am sure he will stop in for you,” Penelope said with a grin. “I certainly would like to see him after all you have spoken of him. He is this mysterious man that I must see to believe that such a legend exists.”

  Miss Lorraine laughed and waved off Penelope’s jovial banter. “You might be surprised. He is not the politest of company at times.”

  “Oh, he is a rogue, is he?” Penelope asked the question with a giggle which made Miss Lorraine laugh all the more.

  She shrugged. “He is sometimes, but all good men are.”

  ***

  Penelope stood in front of the mirror. Gina stood beside her. “What do you think?” Penelope asked as she turned slightly to look at her profile.

  Gina pursed out her lips. “It is lovely material, very light. The blue brings out your eyes wonderfully.”

  “Yes, but what about this puff, right here?” Penelope patted a tuft of fabric that refused to lie flat against her stomach.

  Gina laughed. “Well, truly it does seem as if it needs a tuck there. We could have the seamstress see to it?”

  “Perhaps, but I do not fancy finding a pin left in my dress as I am pulling it on this evening due to a rushed hemming,” Penelope said with a frown.

  There was a knock on the door which was followed by Lady Winchester announcing herself before she pushed the door open. Penelope and Gina turned to look at the woman as she slipped into the room. “That’s a lovely colour on you,” Lady Winchester said as she waved at the dress.

  “It needs to be fixed here, though,” Penelope said as she pointed out the tuft of fabric that refused to lie properly.

  Lady Winchester made a noise of dissatisfaction. “With as much as I pay for these, there should be no such flaws.”

  “Well, I was a bit too busy for the last fitting,” Penelope interjected. “So, she likely just had to go on old measurements.”

  With a sigh, Lady Winchester conceded the point with a nod. “It shall have to be corrected, though. Have you any other dresses in a similar hue? What about the one you wore to the magistrate’s dinner last month? That one was beautiful on you.”

  “Do you think it is appropriate to wear the dress again, so soon?” Penelope asked as she eyed the dress she wore with a faint frown in the mirror.

  Lady Winchester scoffed, “I doubt you will see any of the same people as attended that horrible dinner. Your father makes a point not to invite anyone below a certain station to his parties, especially mid-Season.”

  “Speaking of Father, have you seen him this morning?” Penelope asked her mother as she motioned for Gina to get the buttons on the back of the dress she wore.

  Lady Winchester nodded. “Yes, briefly at breakfast. He was in a hurry to get started on some proposal or another. He did mention that he would like to speak with you. Whether that is to do with this evening or your employment of that woman, I do not know.”

  “Mother, Father and I have already sorted out Miss Tanner’s employment, you know that,” Penelope reminded her mother. Lady Winchester did not respond and walked over to where several dresses were laid out on the bed. “Do you like any of those?”

  With a slender finger, Lady Winchester indicated a golden dress. “This one would make you look very nice if you do not like the idea of repeating your dresses so quickly.”

  Penelope shrugged. “I just did not want to show poorly. I know that you were upset with me. If you think the blue would be better, then I think it would do fine.”

  “Let us try this golden one first,” Lady Winchester said. “It is a rather festive piece. Is this one that we had made during the winter holidays?”

  Penelope pursed out her lips as she wiggled out of her current dress with Gina’s help. “I think it might be. Although, I do not recall actually wearing it.”

  “We really should make more use of dresses if we purchase them,” Lady Winchester said with a shake of her head.

  Penelope brightened. “We could donate them.”

  “You shall be the death of me, Penny,” Lady Winchester said with a sigh. The woman’s face held the hint of a smile, which softened her words. “Gina,” Lady Winchester said as she picked up the golden dress carefully. Gina quickly came over and took the dress.

  In a minute’s time, Gina had helped Penelope pull the dress up onto her frame. Unlike the last dress, there were no untoward puckers or creases in this dress. It lay smoothly upon Penelope’s skin. “It feels a bit itchy,” Penelope said with a frown. “Perhaps that is why it was not worn.”

  “Sometimes women must suffer to look their best,” Lady Winchester said with a patient smile. “Here, those cream-coloured shoes just inside the door of the wardrobe. They would look lovely with this dress.”

  Penelope, despite her reservations, allowed her mother to help Gina dress her. Wh
en she finally stood in front of the mirror, Penelope hated that she had to admit the dress did look beautiful on her. “I do hope that everyone appreciates how uncomfortable this dress is,” Penelope said bitterly. “It is lovely, though.”

  “It really is, Miss,” Gina said with appreciation. “You look like a fairy queen.”

  Lady Winchester clucked her tongue. “Do not get too ahead of ourselves, but the dress does certainly become you well, Penelope.”

  “I suppose I could stand it for a few hours,” Penelope said with a frown at her reflection.

  Gina suggested, “Perhaps we could put a soft petticoat underneath it, Miss?”

  “That might work, barring it is not too thick. The dress is very well-fitted,” Penelope said as she ran her hands over the soft, yet reflective material. “What sort of fabric is this?”

  “I think it is wool with dye in it of some kind,” Lady Winchester said with a wrinkled brow. “I shall have to ask the seamstress.”

  Penelope sighed. “I certainly hope it is cool tonight. Wool will be quite hot with a petticoat under it.”

  “Really, Penny, you have to have some resilience,” Lady Winchester scolded.

  Penelope put her hands on her hips. “I would like to see some of the men wear wool on a warm night and be expected to dance.”

  Gina bit down on a laugh, which earned her a scathing look from Lady Winchester. “Men wear wool the same as women, Penelope. Now, take that dress off before you tear it with your theatrics.”

  “I was not being theatrical at all,” Penelope disagreed as she stood still so that Gina could unbutton her. As she pushed the top of the dress off her shoulders, Penelope added, “I still think the other blue one would be fine as well.”

  “You are welcome to wear whichever you choose,” Lady Winchester informed Penelope. The way she said the words let Penelope know very clearly that she did, in fact, not have the right to choose to wear anything other than what her mother had decided upon.

  Penelope sighed. “I like the golden dress, Mother.”

  “Splendid,” Lady Winchester said with a smile.

  Penelope asked, “What will you be wearing, Mother?”

  “Oh, I do not know. I suspect a white dress would be nice. I do like the way the colour compliments my skin,” Lady Winchester said as she flicked the question away with a flip of her wrist. Penelope had no doubt that her mother had her dress picked out along with jewellery for months in advance, but there was no need to point that out.

  Speaking of jewellery, though, made Penelope peer over at her jewellery box. “Mother, so long as you are here, would you mind helping me pick out some jewellery to wear? You are far better at matching up the colours than I am.”

  “You really should be developing your eye for such things, Penelope,” her mother scolded, but Penelope could see the look of pleasure at being asked on her face.

  As her mother went over to the vanity to look through Penelope’s jewellery, Gina helped Penelope get her soft muslin gown back on. “Thank you, Gina,” Penelope said with a smile as the maid helped button up the dress.

  “Shall I put these dresses away for you now, Miss?” Gina asked as she gestured towards the dresses on the bed.

  Penelope nodded. “Yes, please.” While Gina worked, Penelope walked over to where her mother was holding up two necklaces. “I have always thought that was a lovely pendant,” Penelope said as she referred to a necklace her mother was holding in her right hand. “It was Grandmother’s, was it not?”

  “Yes,” Lady Winchester said with a smile. “She wanted you to have it. It was made by your grandfather for her on their thirtieth wedding anniversary.”

  Penelope took the necklace from her mother and slipped it around her neck. “It is a rather touching gift.”

  “You mean for a man that was so uncaring?” Lady Winchester asked. She sighed. “I read my mother’s journals as well, Penelope. I quite feel that it was more your grandmother who did not care for your grandfather than the other way around.”

  Penelope frowned. “Marriage often seems mismatched. Are the pairings never true?”

  “Are you still fretting over that?” Lady Winchester shook her head at her daughter. “Why must you make a misery out of something that does not need such elaborate thought?”

  Penelope stared at her mother in disbelief. “If marriage requires no thought, then what does in this life? Surely picking a partner for your life should entail some sort of thoughts in one’s brain.”

  “There is quite a difference between thinking over the situation and rambling about it like a girl fresh out of her schooling. You are a well-tutored young lady, and you should act like it, Penelope,” Lady Winchester said disapprovingly as she folded her hands together in front of her.

  Penelope put her hands on her hips. “I read your journal as well, Mother. I know that Father changed, and he was not what you thought he was.”

  “People often change, Penelope,” Lady Winchester said in exasperation. “It is impossible to know what someone is like until you truly live your life with them. It is always a risk and a gamble, but you do your best to see through to the possibilities.”

  Penelope turned to Gina. “That will be all, Gina.” Gina gave Penelope a little nod before she exited the room looking relieved to get to escape before the two ladies began quarrelling. Penelope turned back to her mother. “When was it exactly that you noticed he was not the man you thought he was?”

  “Is this truly appropriate?” Lady Winchester looked a bit uncomfortable.

  With a sigh, Penelope said, “I may be going through this sometime, very soon. I would like to know.” She softened her voice and tried again at the look on her mother’s face. “Please tell me what it was like to be wed. I find myself so nervous and unsure of everything; it would help to hear it from someone who has been through this process.”

  “Well,” Lady Winchester said as Penelope saw her mother’s face take on a touch of tenderness. “What exactly do you wish to know?”

  Penelope sat down at her vanity and began combing out her hair as she thought. “When did Father change, truthfully, into that person that you did not recognise?”

  Penelope had expected her mother to protest the question as she had at every other turn, but instead, Lady Winchester lifted her shoulders and looked up at the ceiling. She spoke in a soft voice as if she were remembering back to her first days of marriage. “It was after our wedding night, our true wedding night. We had to travel, you see, and ended up spending the night of our wedding ceremony in a carriage. He was quite irritated by it all.”

  “So, after you spent a true night together then?” Penelope pressed as she paused while brushing her hair. She eyed her mother in the mirror.

  Lady Winchester nodded. “Yes, he just changed after that. He seemed less attentive. I took it to heart, naturally, being a young, naive wife, but my mother told me that it mattered little. Soon enough I would have children, and that was my focus.”

  “Were you ever sad that you only had one child?” Penelope asked as she thought about what her mother had said. She really did not want to think of what would happen if she married Jules. Would the man truly transform into someone else entirely if she were to share a bed with him?

  Lady Winchester, unaware of Penelope’s thoughts, smiled. “No. I was rather happy to only have the one. Your father had wanted sons, but I told him that one brilliant daughter would give him a son sooner or later. After all, a son by marriage is still a son.”