Loving a Fearless Duchess Page 5

  Henry could not believe Penelope was dancing with Nash Finch. Henry had spent a lot of time since the last visit from Nash curbing his impulses. His father made sure of it. Like the King would really strip his title. Henry didn’t think so. For the most part, he was doing an adequate job of keeping his impulses at bay, but no one knew what happened when he went to the hunting lodge and had some fun there.

  Now here was Nash Finch, back from his visits with Avery and Henry. Sheep, Penelope, and a dog. How dare he come to their home lodging complaints about things Henry had done. So what if they were true?

  Hopefully, this would be one dance. After all, Penelope’s scar was ugly, and who wanted someone with her deformed face? He probably needn’t worry, but Henry would make sure they knew he wasn’t going to court her.

  When he told Avery about this, his father was going to erupt like a volcano. He’d want to monitor it closely. He worked hard for his good reputation. If they were stripped of his title and lands, they both would be ruined.

  Then a footman told him his father wanted him in the library.

  ***

  Cecilia liked the Duke of Norfolk. His manners were faultless, and his conversation light and interesting. Cecilia remembered the Duke because he and his father visited just after Penelope got her scar. And he was one of the very few people outside the family that knew how she came about it.

  Cecilia was sure it made a lasting impression on him. She remembered it rattled him. Nash could see through her scar. Cecilia knew it. Even as a boy, he had a big heart. Now, as an adult, he was down to earth, not some pompous poppycock strutting around the dance floor dancing with girls as if he were doing them a favour. He was genuine.

  ***

  Later in the evening, Nash came back to ask Penelope for another dance. She thought he might feel it somehow necessary to circle back and ask her again, but she would dance with him no matter his motivation. With all the beautiful women in the room vying for his attention, a catch like Nash couldn’t possibly be interested in her.

  “Are you enjoying this evening, Lady Penelope?” he said.

  “This is my first ball, so I didn’t know what to expect. I am enjoying it more than I thought I would. Even though my mother, Edward and I live in London, I’ve met so many new people tonight. I’m sure I will see them at parties over the course of the season. What about you, Your Grace? Are you enjoying the ball? The ladies have certainly noticed your presence.” She laughed lightly.

  Nash looked down at Penelope. Penelope’s face looked innocent as much as it looked damaged. He focused on the innocent part of her face, the part that showed her true self. Her warm brown eyes gazed into his, and he smiled.

  “I am. When I came tonight, I wasn’t sure what to think. On one hand, it is an ideal way to meet women, but on the other hand, I thought it would be painfully dull. But I have not found it dull at all.”

  “So you will attend other ton events?” As soon as the question was out, Penelope wanted to kick herself for being so forward. Would Nash think her nosy?

  “Yes, I will. Tell me, My Lady, may I dine with you this evening? I believe they will announce the tables ready at any time.”

  Penelope smiled. “I would love to.”

  When the dance ended, and they went back to Cecilia, she gave permission for the two to dine together. She smiled faintly, hoping the two of them were as suited for one another as they seemed to be. She found Edward and asked him to escort her into the dining room.

  When Nash escorted Penelope into the dining room, she gasped. Along one long side of the room a feast of every possible dish was sitting, waiting for the taking. She picked up a plate, Nash following her, and grabbed more than she needed or should eat in front of a man. She couldn’t help it.

  Nash directed her to a temporary table the size of an ice cream parlour table and chairs she had seen at Gunther’s. Neither wanted to sit at the long table and make small talk during the meal.

  She ate duck, beets, and squash. He ate venison, turnip, bread, and cheese. Penelope found that novel and also found it unusual to be eating opposite someone who was consuming something very different.

  Nash’s eyes twinkled. He joked, “Would you like me to go back to the buffet and get you everything except the duck and beets and squash?”

  She laughed. “Now, that would be fun, wouldn’t it?”

  He put down his fork and leaned forward. “And you know, Penelope, we haven’t even tackled the dessert table yet.” The twinkle in his eyes was irresistible, and she grinned uncontrollably.

  She was having so much fun with Nash that she didn’t see Henry approaching holding a dinner plate of his own. Without asking or giving a greeting, he sat down between them.

  “Well, well. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you two were enjoying each other’s company. But that can’t be,” Henry said, shaking his head dramatically. “Because you two barely know one another, and you won’t be continuing your friendship. Make it easy on yourselves and end it now before it becomes difficult to say goodbye.”

  Nash ground his teeth and spoke through his clenched jaw. “Leave now, Henry, before I pick you up by your scrawny neck and throw you across the room.

  Chapter 6

  The next day, at the beginning of calling hours, Nash was at the door. The ladies and Edward were in the parlour, hoping Henry wouldn’t wander in and decide to stay.

  Nash smiled. “Lady Balfour, Lady Penelope, Lord Balfour,” he said, waiting for the ladies to curtsy and take their seats. He bowed.

  Edward motioned to Nash, “Your Grace, please sit and join us for tea.”

  “That sounds wonderful. I’m afraid I need to get used to the shift in time due to the balls. They let out at three or four in the morning. Your teacakes look delicious to a man who got a late start and hasn’t eaten much today.”

  Cecilia leaned forward, “Would you like something more substantial? I can have the kitchen make whatever you like.”

  “Oh, no don’t bother but thank you. After another ball or two when I get home at four in the morning, I’ll have my breakfast habits once again aligned. I must say, I enjoyed the ball last night, did you?” he said to no one in particular.

  Edward answered, “I am new to the ball. Both my sister and I will be on the ball circuit and whatever else the ton throws at us this season. If the rest of the balls are similar to last night’s, I may have to revise my opinion and say the process we go through to meet women isn’t so bad after all.”

  “Oh, Edward.” Cecilia laughed and turned to Nash. “He’s been complaining for months about attending these events. And look at him now.”

  Nash gave a broad, gorgeous smile that showed his beautiful teeth and twinkling eyes. “I have to agree with you, Lord Balfour. I was dreading the experience. That is until your uncle pointed out your beautiful sister.”

  Edward smiled broadly, “That’s kind of you to say. Do you happen to know any single young ladies you could recommend to a gentleman?”

  Penelope cleared her throat. “Would you two like us to leave so you may finish your conversation? It sounds as though you’re at the club, not in a parlour having tea with ladies,” she said with a smile.

  “You are right, My Lady. White’s? Dinner? Tomorrow evening? That will give me time to think about any ladies I might be able to recommend,” Nash said.

  “Seven o’clock?” Edward asked.

  Nash smiled. “Perfect. Although, I have noticed you do seem to have a nice lady under your nose. Lady Dinah may be worth getting to know better.”

  Edward snorted, “I thought you were going to say Kitty or Isabel. I would have wondered why you disliked me so much.”

  Both men laughed, and Penelope cleared her throat again.

  Nash looked at Edward, “I think we had better change the subject before I am kicked out.” He turned to Penelope, “Are you ladies planning to attend the Thompson ball later this week?”

  Cecilia was quick to answer. “We are, Your Grace
. It should be a lively event. But I hear that, in the past, Lady Thompson has invited more people than her ballroom holds. I hope that isn’t the case this year.”

  Nash turned to Edward again, “If that is the case, shall we retreat to the card room after a few dances?”

  Edward shook his head no. “Not if I want to stay alive.” He looked at his mother. “I mean my mother and my sister may have other plans for me.”

  Nash laughed. “I think you and I are going to be great friends.

  Edward bowed. “I believe you are right.”

  “Right? Right about what? What have I been missing since you started tea without me?” Henry asked, coming in and taking a seat with no bow or greeting to anyone.

  Cecilia spoke in a low, slow, steady voice. “Hello, Henry. You know we begin tea every day at one o’clock. You have a standing invitation but rarely join us. Do you know the Duke of Norfolk?”

  “Oh, I know him,” Henry said in a loud, hostile voice. “He’s the one who accused me of killing his dog.”

  Penelope gasped, and then put her hand to her mouth. Oh, that neighbour, she thought. She remembered the incident and looked over at Nash. He was putting down his teacup and his plate. He was going to leave.

  Nash stood. “Lady Balfour, Lady Penelope, Lord Balfour,” he bowed, “I look forward to our next encounter. Thank you for a lovely visit.” He turned to Edward. They nodded to one another but didn’t say a word. Neither wanted to risk Henry showing up at White’s for dinner tomorrow evening.

  The ladies curtsied, Edward bowed, but Henry stayed seated. Nash left.

  What was he doing here?” Henry spat out.

  “He was visiting the ladies,” Edward said in a low, flat voice.

  “He has interest in you, Penelope? Even with your deformed face? I wonder if Father will permit you to be courted by him,” Henry said, trying to bait Penelope.

  She rose and curtsied. “If you’ll excuse me, I find I have a headache and need to rest.”

  When Penelope left the room, Edward turned to Henry, “That was a mean thing to say and uncalled for. I suggest you think before you speak, Henry. One day you will say the wrong thing to the wrong person, and you will regret it.”

  Cecilia stood, curtsied, and excused herself. Tears filled her eyes as she clung to the railing while climbing the stairs. She hated herself for saying it, but she hoped Henry died in a ‘hunting accident.’ So many people hated him; it couldn’t be such a far-fetched hope.

  Cecilia saw Edward leave the parlour and talk with their butler, Waters. He was probably going riding to blow off some steam. And with that, tea was over.

  ***

  When Henry reported to his father about his conversation with Edward and Penelope during calling hours, Avery was furious.

  Not only had Nash come to see Penelope, but he had also left, so Henry wasn’t part of their conversation. Avery admitted concern.

  Nash and Penelope became reacquainted last night from the meeting years ago that lasted at most two hours.

  They had danced twice and dined together. Then, Nash was at calling hours today.

  Edward and Penelope hadn’t answered directly when Henry asked specifically about the relationship. If there were no chance of a budding relationship, someone would have said no, but that didn’t happen.

  Avery paced. “Those two must stay apart. It is a threat to my title for them to be a couple.

  “You must be where they are. Calling hours and balls. The entire time. Don’t let a minute go by without them knowing their relationship has no future.”

  Henry nodded. “He’s the biggest catch on the dance floor, and yet he looks at Penelope as though there’s nothing wrong with her. You’d think he’d go dance with the ladies trying to get him to look at them.”

  “That’s your job, son. Make it happen.”

  ***

  I was too hasty, Nash thought. It wasn’t fair to Penelope that Nash up and ran out of the house. But that’s what Henry did to him.

  The moment he saw Henry, his blood started rushing through his body, hot and prickly. He could live to be a thousand, and that visceral reaction would never leave him.

  The memory of Henry and what he did to Penelope and Rusty was still fresh. Penelope was permanently scarred because of him, and it wasn’t an accident. The dog was fourteen years old; he had him since he was a boy.

  ***

  Nash had been at his estate alone far too long. After his father died, his solicitor recommended he go there and familiarize himself with the books. Make sure the steward was capable. His father had run the place well, and Nash knew what his commitment to running the place would be.

  No one was in London in the dead of summer. The streets stank from the sewage thrown out windows. Sewage that ran down the street in a river. The coal made visibility almost naught. Nash always wanted to put his handkerchief over his nose and mouth to protect himself. He would go to the dock for a fresh breeze but for the rotting fish. No one was in London in the dead of summer.

  He wrote to his three university friends, Harriman, Darrell, and Wilson. He thought a poker weekend with horseback riding and sleeping late sounded like fun.

  They all arrived within hours of each other late Thursday. After drinks, dinner, and gossip, they went into the library where a square table had been moved.

  “How do you like it here?” Wilson asked.

  Nash shrugged. “It’s all right. I’ve lived here for a long time, but now that I’m a Duke, everyone treats me differently. The ladies in the tavern. Everyone. Get this; I have a neighbour who thought I’d invite him to the game because he’s the son of a Duke.

  “It’s crazy.”

  Harriman nodded. “Happened to me too. It will take a little while.”

  The men played into the night with some heavy drinking, heavy betting, but no heavy winner. They woke to bright sunshine and made their way to the dining room to get rid of their hangovers by eating too much.

  Darrell looked at his friends, “I’m still not convinced this is the cure.”

  Harriman lifted his head from the business of eating. “Shut up, Darrell. You have been saying that since university. Don’t eat if you don’t want to. Just shut up.”

  Darrell mumbled, “Hangover grump.”

  The pathetic group took several hours to get in the saddle and head off towards the falls.

  Nash shook his head. “What? You can’t even ride now?”

  “My brain is jiggling in my head every time the horse moves,” Wilson said.

  “Come on, Wilson. The water will do you good. It’s not far.”

  Harriman asked, “Is it on your estate?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good,” Harriman continued, “we can swim nude.”

  Nash laughed. “That was the plan all along.”

  When they got to the falls, Nash’s dog Rusty was the first to jump in. The men could barely hear each other from the noise of the water, but after disrobing, they followed Nash under the falls to the flat ledge with a pool in front of it. They dove into the pool and surfaced, screaming because of the cold, but then Nash and Rusty jumped in again so they all followed.

  Wilson jumped up and down with the chill as he dressed, “Well, my hangover is gone. My brains won’t fall out of my head on the way back to the estate.”

  Harriman said, “I have a feeling we’re going to be back here tomorrow.”

  Nash laughed. “Maybe a little earlier in the day?”

  “Maybe,” Darrell said.

  The four of them made it back to the house in time for tea. Perfect timing. They were ravenous. Twice, Nash pulled the bell for more food. The second time, the parlour maid asked if they were interested in a meal. They all scoffed, and Nash rolled his eyes.

  They all rested and were woken for their evening meal. After feasting, they went into the library. Darrell started calling it ‘the scene of the crime’ as their night started all over again.

  Late into the night, Nash’s three frie
nds climbed the stairs as if it were a very difficult thing to do. Nash went outside to get Rusty.

  He called the dog several times. Usually, Rusty would come right away, but this time there wasn’t a sound. Nash worried he was hurt.

  He got a coat, took a sconce from the wall, holding it high. He checked the stables, the barn and a paddock holding cows.

  Nash had long ago sobered up, his worry heightened. He thought he would find Rusty dead of a heart attack; the dog was so old. He couldn’t leave him out here.

  He started down the paths in the woods, zigzagging the ones closest to the house, knowing Rusty didn’t stray far into the deeper areas. Then Nash saw Rusty and dropped the sconce. It was a damp evening so the fire didn’t spread, but Nash wouldn’t have noticed if it did.

  Tears filled his eyes. He kneeled next to his dog. “Rusty, what happened to you? Who did this to you?”

  Nash had to wipe his tears on the side of his coat. His hands shook each time he tried to touch his dead dog. He retracted his hand unable to do it.

  Nash looked at the body of his dog in front of him while Rusty’s head was about six feet away. He couldn’t move. Who would do such an awful thing? What human was capable of such a thing?

  He walked back to the stables, crying, looking for a shovel, banging into every tool in there.

  An old wrinkled faced man came out of the shadows. “How can I help you, Your Grace?”

  Nash turned. His face was red, blotchy, his eyes swollen from tears. “Hello, Cobb. I just found Rusty dead, and I’m looking for a shovel.”

  He started crying again when he said, ‘Rusty dead.’

  Cobb shuffled from foot to foot. “I’m sorry to hear it. We loved that dog of yours. I’ll be right back.”

  Cobb returned with two stable boys rubbing the sleep from their eyes. As soon as they saw Nash’s eyes and his face, they stopped rubbing and nodded together, “Your Grace.”

  Cobb handed them all a shovel, and Nash led the way to Rusty. When he saw Rusty, Cobb sucked in his breath and stopped walking. One of the boys behind him bumped into Cobb from his sudden stop. They all moved slowly forward, and no one said a word. Where they saw Nash break ground, they came and helped. When the hole was large enough and deep enough, Cobb stepped toward Rusty.