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

  “No,” Penelope said. “I simply did not want you to die. Is having mercy going to be a sore point with you as it is my father?”

  The Duke chuckled. “I am not against mercy,” he said as his dark eyes studied her in far more detail than Penelope was comfortable with. The man’s hair was long, and although it was quite dishevelled from all he had been through, it still framed his face in a way that made Penelope feel a strange weakness in her knees. “It was still a foolish thing to do. All you knew of me was that your mother heard gossip that I had blood on my hands. The people who did this to me could have easily overtaken you and your mother had they not have fled so quickly.”

  “You are scolding me for helping you,” Penelope said in astonishment.

  The Duke winced as he lifted his shoulders in a shrug. Penelope decided that his pain was rightly deserved. Just who did the man think he was to be scolding her? The Duke said, “I can see you bristling, and I assure you Lady Withersfield that I meant what I said with concern and not whatever horrible thing you clearly think that I was implying.”

  “Do not think you can know my mind so easily,” Penelope said as she lifted her chin. There was something about the man that set her blood to boil, and he seemed wholly unaware of it as he chuckled.

  The man raised his hands as if Penelope might attack him. “My debt to you is great but not great enough for me to risk my life. I have seen that meekness is not a quality that you possess, Lady Withersfield.”

  “And you are a strange nobleman, Your Grace,” Penelope said with honesty.

  The Duke frowned. “Is it just that you found me in an alley bleeding to death that makes me strange, or is it the murder?”

  “It is neither,” Penelope said at the man’s obvious attempt at making her uncomfortable. Penelope lifted one of her shoulders in a slight shrug. “I simply find you fascinating.” She immediately regretted the words as soon as she had said it, but once said words were very hard to retract. The look on the Duke’s face told Penelope that he did not much care for her words either, although she had no idea why such a sentiment would offend the man.

  The Duke shook his head. “I see,” he said simply, which did not aid in clarifying anything for Penelope.

  Penelope ventured, “You see what exactly?”

  He shifted a bit as if to get comfortable on the bed. “The party that you found me near at the Earl of Havenshire’s residence was a party for the Season. A party like that is often full of women and men looking for potential partners. I thought I recognised you from somewhere. You were at the party, were you not?”

  “Yes,” Penelope admitted a bit confused. “My mother and I attended the party.”

  The Duke nodded. “I am afraid that I have too much on my plate at present to even consider marriage. So, if you are looking for someone to fall for you, Lady Withersfield, I would suggest that you look elsewhere,” he said with such restraint in his voice that he sounded as if he was strangling out any hope that might seep through his words.

  Penelope coloured red with embarrassment and indignation. “You think mightily of yourself or very poorly of me,” Penelope said. The Duke’s mouth opened as if to speak, but she cut him off with her own words. “I would never assume love would be a reward for kindness. Being a good person is reward enough, but then most men do not seek kindness for its sake. I shall forgive you the flaw of your gender, just this once, Your Grace.”

  Her hands shook from the fire that welled up inside of her. She felt as if she might just shake apart if she did not hold her hands together tightly. The Duke eyed her with those dark eyes of his. The intensity behind his stare made Penelope wonder just what sort of man he truly was. How could a man with such a flame in his eyes profess to be so cold?

  “You attended the same party, Your Grace,” Penelope said. Her voice, despite the shaking of her hands was as steady and calm as it had ever been in her life. Penelope marvelled at that for a moment before she continued, “If you were not in search of a partner for marriage, then what were you doing there?”

  The Duke’s eyes peered into her for a long moment. Penelope wagered that eyes like that could see into her soul, but she did not falter as she returned his gaze. Let him look deeply and see her soul was pure. Whatever it is that the man was looking for, Penelope could not say whether he found it or not. As quickly as she had been locked in his gaze, the man looked away from her.

  The absence of the dark-haired man’s eyes on her left Penelope feeling adrift. She felt the fire in her belly die down to embers. She sucked in a breath trying to re-ignite it, but the flames just faded to glowing husks inside her.

  The Duke said softly, “That is none of your business.”

  His words may have been soft, but there was iron laced behind them. Penelope could see the latticework of iron bars that the man laced around himself almost as if it were a thing made of tangible metal. He is like my father, her mind whispered.

  Penelope gripped her hands tighter together. Her knuckles turned white with the strength of her grip. “If you were not there to look for a spouse, then I would think that you were looking for something about your parents.”

  His eyes went wide at her words, and Penelope’s defences rose as she prepared for the outrage at her impudence, but the man merely stared at her. He stared at her as if he was caught somewhere between the truth and a lie, his mouth slightly agape as if he wanted to speak but the words abandoned him. Penelope whispered, “More can be done with helping hands, Your Grace, than with closed doors.”

  “Are you offering your aid?” the Duke said, amusement taking the place of the surprise on his face. “Saving my life was not good enough for you?”

  Penelope looked down at her hands laid against her dress. It was a simple muslin dress that her mother often called a play dress, but which Penelope was fond of even in its simplicity. “I want to help. You may flaunt your whispered title of murderer, but you should not have to wear a burden that is not your own.”

  “What makes you so certain that it is not mine to bear?” the Duke asked. The question echoed from earlier, and Penelope’s heart ached for the man.

  Penelope shook her head. “Has no one ever believed you? Do they all just smile and nod, while keeping you safely away? You not only do not expect anyone to believe your innocence, but you find it suspicious when they do.”

  The Duke took a deep breath. There was a break there in the man. He was cracked, but the cracks were so hard to see. Penelope gasped at having caught sight of one. The Duke’s eyes came up to her with something of concern. “No one but the courts ever took in faith what I said,” the Duke whispered. “Yet here a stranger stands not only willing to believe but offering a hand to help. How can I not view that with suspicion?”

  “You can look at me and my face,” Penelope said. “My eyes are open, and you can delve into my very soul, Your Grace. I will not betray you.”

  The man looked for all the world like he did not quite know how to respond to such earnestness. The Duke said, “My saviour who has already saved my life once, now deems to still be at my side. I am honoured that you should still offer me aid.”

  Penelope felt her heart soften. She had almost let the fear of her father shroud this man as well, but the Duke’s intensity was not the same. She had felt his goodness when she looked upon his face. Here he was a good man in dire circumstances, and what sort of lady would she be if she turned him away?

  The Duke said, “Thank you.” He said the words as his eyes met Penelope’s yet again. There was warmth there that Penelope wondered if she just imagined. He looked at her for all the world as if he beheld a treasure.

  Penelope smiled at him, wondering what exactly he was thanking her for, and he offered no explanation. His lips quirked up into a smile as well. Penelope wondered what he looked like when he laughed, really laughed. Maybe she would get to see that one day.

  ***

  The door to the guest room came open so swiftly that it startled Penelope into stepp
ing back as if she had been caught doing something vile. Penelope was already standing at the foot of the bed, and there was an ocean of space between her and the man that lay on the bed, yet her cheeks coloured as if she had been caught out in the light during an escapade. Gretchen shut the door back just as quickly and leaned her ear to it.

  When the woman was satisfied, she turned towards them. “Begging your apologies, Miss,” Gretchen said with misery. She wrung her hands in worry and whispered, “I heard your father coming. I was not about to let him catch me outside the door.”

  “I understand,” Penelope said. She did indeed understand the fear the woman held. Lord Winchester was a firm-handed, unrelenting man. He would probably put Gretchen out in the street for looking at him oddly, let alone going against his wishes.

  Gretchen looked at the Duke of Richmond and then back to her mistress. “Should we not leave His Grace to rest? He must not strain himself too much with the amount of blood he lost, Miss,” Gretchen said as the woman’s forehead wrinkled with what Penelope was sure was anxiety.

  Penelope drew in a breath and nodded. “I suppose we should,” Penelope said as she looked back at the man on the bed. “I leave you to rest. I do hope that I will see you at dinner tonight, Your Grace.”

  The Duke nodded back to Penelope. “And I you, Lady Withersfield.”

  Penelope smiled at him before she turned and followed Gretchen. The maid was nearly to the door but stopped and waited for Penelope to catch up to her. Gretchen held the door open for her mistress, and Penelope gave the woman a smile as she slipped out into the hallway ahead of the maid.

  Once the door was shut, Gretchen asked, “Do you need any assistance?”

  It was something the older woman often asked Penelope. Gretchen believed in being busy. It was one of the things that Penelope had learned about her very quickly. She shook her head. “No. I rather think that I shall go rest as well for a time.”

  Gretchen looked almost relieved, and Penelope found that mildly offensive but knew the other woman probably had things she needed to do other than shepherding Penelope. Not that Penelope needed to be herded. There was no danger that she would find her way back to the Duke’s chambers after all.

  Penelope watched Gretchen bob her head and take her leave. Penelope turned to go down the hallway to her own room. She was almost to her door when Gina came around the corner.

  “I heard you went visiting,” Gina said with a grin as she approached Penelope.

  Penelope ushered the young maid into her room. “Shh,” Penelope chided.

  Gina giggled. “Don’t fret so. Your father is safely downstairs raining terror upon the kitchen staff for not having the food on hand that he wanted to impress the Duke of Richmond by serving.”

  “Sounds like Father,” Penelope said with a sigh. She went over to her bed and dropped down most ungracefully onto the mattress which sank under her weight.

  Gina sat down next to her and pressed, “So, did you go to talk to the man?”

  “I went to bring our guest breakfast. I had no idea that he would be awake,” Penelope said trying not to sound as defensive as she felt.

  Gina nodded with a smile. “I know all of that. I spied Gretchen in the hallway earlier and asked her what was going on.”

  “I am surprised she even said anything. She is so afraid that Father will find her in contempt somehow that she darts around the manor as if besieged by devils,” Penelope said.

  Gina giggled. “Maybe she is,” she said. “Did you really say that you would help her mother be seen by a doctor?”

  “Yes,” Penelope said with a shrug. “Truth be told that I probably would have done so anyway, but that does not harm the woman.”

  Gina folded her hands in her lap, the plain black dress and white apron making her look very much her profession. Gina’s bonnet was always a bit forward due to her long hair that she bundled up and tied tightly underneath the white material. Penelope had rarely seen Gina outside of her hours at the house, and when she had, Penelope had been astounded at how beautiful the young maid was when freed of the confines of her role.

  “So, you did talk to the man then,” Gina pressed with a smile.

  Penelope laughed and nodded. She put her hands back on the bed and leaned back much like she had done as a child. Penelope said, “I talked to him, yes.”

  Gina nudged Penelope with her shoulder. “Miss, you must tell me some detail.”

  “There is not that much to tell,” Penelope said with a shrug.

  Gina sighed. “You think that I will run and confess everything to your father? I thought you had come to know me better than that.”

  “It is not that,” Penelope assured the young woman. Indeed, Gina had kept several secrets very well, but then these secrets were a bit heavier than keeping childish blunders swept under the rug.

  Gina eyed her curiously. “Did something happen?”

  “No,” Penelope said emphatically as she waved her hands at Gina to dismiss the idea. “He almost bled to death, Gina. The man could barely walk or sit upright.”

  Gina grinned. “Men can do wonders when they think they can get away with something.”

  “Perhaps, but that does not change the fact that nothing happened. We merely talked. I told him the truth of why I had to lie to my father. Father would be infuriated if he thought he had been made a fool of,” Penelope said. “Gina, you must not tell anyone.”

  Gina frowned. “You haven’t told me anything, other than you lied. So, there is nothing much I could tell, Miss.”

  Penelope sighed and covered her face with her hands. “I told Father that the Duke saved Mother and myself from this rogue, when in fact, there was no one. I heard a noise and ran off to investigate—”

  “Miss, you didn’t!” Gina was scandalised. For all the gumption and spitfire that Gina could muster, Penelope saw that the woman was legitimately afraid of what could have happened to her.

  Penelope put her palm over the young maid’s clasped hands. “I realise now how reckless it was, but at that moment, all I could think was that someone needed me.”

  “So, there was no other man?” Gina asked.

  Penelope shook her head. “I heard something, but I never saw anyone other than the Duke. He staggered and fell on me. He was out of his head, and Mother thought he was some drunken lush I think.”

  “But you got him here safe and sound. Surely that should be what counts,” Gina said.

  Penelope gave Gina a helpless shrug. “One would think, but Father was not pleased to find that the Duke of Richmond had somehow ended up at his home without his permission.”

  “What were you to do? Leave him to die?” Gina asked.

  It was the first sensible thing that Penelope had heard anyone say since the Duke staggered out of that alley, and Penelope gave Gina a smile. “Thank you,” Penelope said. “I told Father the lie about the rogue because I feared he would toss the man out in the streets.”

  “Surely, Lord Winchester would not have done so,” Gina said as if she very much wanted to believe that Lord Winchester had a bit of common decency.

  “I could not afford to take that chance,” Penelope said. “Besides, the lie harms no one.”

  Gina nodded her head slowly. “So,” the maid said with a grin. “Is he as dashing as I have heard him described?”

  Penelope blubbered. It was not a dignified thing to do, but the words all came out jumbled together and left her spluttering for something to say. Gina giggled. Penelope finally got over her initial shock enough to say, “That is a scandalous thing to talk about.”

  “What is so scandalous about talking of something that can be seen with your own eyes?” Gina asked as she raised her eyebrows.