Loving a Fearless Duchess: A Historical Regency Romance Book(4)

Penelope’s mother and her mother’s brother, Avery, had a complicated relationship. When Penelope’s father died suddenly, Avery picked up responsibility for Cecilia, Edward, and Penelope. He paid for everything. When in London, they stayed in his large townhouse. They were swallowed up in it, hardly seeing Avery or his son Henry; it was that large.

When at Avery’s country estate, it was the same. A mansion so large Cecilia’s family occupied a small part of a wing while Avery and Henry occupied another. Avery and Henry also used only a small part of it. Days could go by when the families would not see each other, coming and going at different times.

Occasionally, when Avery needed, Cecilia would act as hostess at gatherings and parties. All in all, the arrangement was fine, and Cecilia didn’t feel guilty about taking advantage of her brother’s hospitality. It was of no consequence to him. He was wealthy. His peers approved of his largess.

The only rub in the ointment, and there were always rubs in the ointment, was Cecilia’s nephew, Henry. Henry was twenty-five years old to Edward’s twenty-four years old. As cousins, they should have been close and kept in each other’s company. Instead, Edward wasn’t on speaking terms with him.

Cecilia, Edward, and Penelope gave Henry a wide berth. They all heard stories of his ‘hunting trips’ where he would go to his father’s hunting lodge and torture animals. His defence was always that he would kill the animals and eat them anyway. So what did it matter?

But it did matter. He never brought them home to cook and eat. He would shoot an arrow through the body of a rabbit, maiming it, but not killing it. Then, while it was still alive, twitching on the ground, he would dismember it. He liked to watch it writhe. He’d watch it slowly bleed to death. He did the same with deer, dogs, fox, cats, squirrels.

He did other despicable things that didn’t involve animals. He held a village boy’s head down in a horse trough, almost drowning him. He chased a small girl with a pitchfork for the crime of entering her father’s barn while he was inside. He bullied everyone in the village.

But no one could do anything about it. There were repercussions for talking about him, to anyone. The villagers were afraid they would be banished, and Cecilia was afraid Avery would cut them off financially and throw them out. None were idle threats. Edward could choose not to speak to Henry, but he couldn’t speak against him. Avery protected Henry, the next Duke of Somerset. He wouldn’t allow anyone to tarnish his name or the name of his heir.

At times, Cecilia felt like she made a bargain with the Devil. Of course, her situation was better than she could ever imagine. And Avery was good to her and her children. She was beyond grateful to him.

She walked on eggshells, though. One wrong sentence to anyone outside the family that painted Henry in a bad light was catastrophic. Cecilia found herself thinking she had an anvil over her head that could drop on her at any minute. It was unbearably stressful. She didn’t want Edward or Penelope to know how she felt. She didn’t want them to feel the same.

Henry had a temper. Cecilia heard once he became furious when he found out he wasn’t invited to a poker weekend hosted by a gentleman his age on a neighbouring estate. Henry knew the man, although not well. Henry wasn’t snubbed – he and this man were not friends and hardly knew one another. But he thought he was snubbed, and that was all that mattered to Henry. Henry had no friends.

While the gentlemen played poker inside, Henry snuck up to the house and took the family dog from the yard. He killed the dog in a gruesome way. Henry left the dead dog and went home.

When the neighbour, the Duke of Norfolk, came to pay a visit to Avery, both Avery and Henry pleaded innocent to the crime. The Duke of Norfolk knew it was Henry’s handiwork, but he couldn’t prove it, so he banished Henry from his lands. That only brought out Henry’s thirst for revenge. He vowed to make the Duke of Norfolk regret his accusation.

*****

Penelope woke from her afternoon nap. She saw her ball gown hanging from a high hook on the wall. ‘It is tonight,’ she thought. After all the dreaming of it since the age of twelve and practicing dancing for it since the age of sixteen, it was here. She could curtsy. She could address any nobleman by his proper rank. She could dance every dance the band played, including all the country dances. She knew which topics of conversation were appropriate and which were not. She was ready.

Her maid, Helen, came in with a group of footmen, two carrying the tub and another four with buckets of hot water. Helen put down her towels and soap on the stool she pulled next to the tub.

Penelope got in, and Helen began to clean every inch of her then had her dunk her head and washed her hair. While Penelope leaned back and relaxed in the tub, Helen built up the fire and moved the stool to the front of it.

Penelope groaned before getting out of the tub. “It was wonderful,” she said, to no one in particular. She donned her robe and sat on the stool, her back to the fire. Helen kneeled and began brushing her wet hair until it dried.

Helen called for tea and left Penelope alone by the fire in a big comfortable chair. The tea arrived and Penelope relaxed.

Cecilia knocked then walked in. “How are you, Penelope?”

“Sit, Mother. Tea?” She poured for her mother, and they sat across from one another.

“Are you nervous?” Cecilia asked.

“Yes, but not as much as I thought I would be. Since Uncle Avery will accompany me and dance with me, I think that will break the ice.”