Loving a Fearless Duchess: A Historical Regency Romance Book(16)
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.