What the Fates Decree: The Caversham Chronicles-The Titans of the Revolution (6 page)

BOOK: What the Fates Decree: The Caversham Chronicles-The Titans of the Revolution
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“You do look rather peaked, perhaps I should send for doctor Gowrey, he’s a guest here for the party as he is my brother’s maternal cousin, and he has just finished his exams and is now a practicing doctor in Edinburgh. He’s rather handsome as well, but he’s in trade, and aunt Margaret looks down on men who are in trade.” She backed toward the door, and added, “I’ll send the man right up.”

Penelope stopped her. “No, please. All I need is my maid to help me out of this dress. I’m suddenly not feeling the thing. Please send my regrets to those joining you all for dinner. I will look forward to seeing you tomorrow, if I am up to it.”

Olivia nodded, and hurried into the hallway, closing the door behind her. Annie removed the rest of the pins in her hair as tears began to fall silently down Penny’s cheeks.

Once Penny had her nightdress and warm robe on, she sat in front of the fire and waited for her friends to come get her for dinner. She didn’t have to wait for long.

Charlotte arrived first, Isabel notorious for taking longer to ready herself for anything, even a ride in the park. They each hugged her when she’d told them about the conversation she had with her cousin. Penelope tried to compose herself as she spoke, but was in tears again before she was finished.

“I’m not sure I can do this. I think it was a mistake for me to come here. If I could…” Penny sniffled back the tears. “If I could find a good enough reason to leave here now, I would.” She wiped her face with the back of her hands.

A few months ago, when she’d learned that he was back from his assignment, and in Scotland, she’d spent six days sick to her stomach that he would return and not notify her. Upon waking on the seventh day, she vowed she would not go backwards in her emotions.

Her heart had healed mostly. Or, at least that’s what she told herself every day since the day she’d learned he was betrothed to mutton-brained Olivia. This was the perfect opportunity to prove to herself that she’d been wrong about Mr. Nathaniel Gregorio Santiago. He was not the man she’d thought. He was a scoundrel, and a blackguard of the worst order. A man who stole a lady’s affections, and kisses, and said things to soften her to his ideas and plans.

“Penelope, I have to ask…”

It had been a glorious morning in the park, one she had planned to treasure always.

She would never forget the shy grin on his face, the way the gold flecks in his eyes glowed from the sunshine breaking through the morning cloud cover. It had been after their usual, brisk ride through the park, at a time when there were perhaps a handful of grooms out exercising their masters’ mounts, and the week before London was overrun by the families of the members of parliament and the official start of the season. And before the gossips discovered she, Isabel, and Charlotte had returned to Town.

His voice had trembled, much as her entire body had each time she was in his presence. Nathaniel’s English, while grammatically perfect, was spoken with his native Spanish accent. The timbre was deep, warm, sensual. It had enveloped her heart, and she’d fallen for him so quickly that it defied all logic.

She and Nathaniel walked side by side, leading their horses and cooling them, with Charlotte and Isabel mounted on theirs. Her friends blocked their guards’ view of Penny and Nathaniel, and the two of them kept far enough ahead that her friends could not hear their conversation.

“Would you be amenable to me… asking… your father for permission to court you?”

He had lifted her hand and kissed the area above her glove, on the inside of her wrist. To this day, Penelope still felt the quivering low in her belly just thinking about the feel of his hot, moist lips on the sensitive flesh above her palm.

“I know we haven’t known each other long. And, while I might not know what this assignment is that I’ll be taking, or when I’m leaving, I know I want you as my wife… that is… if you would do me the honor, because I will return as soon as possible.”

He’d been so nervous that she could hear the vibration in his accented English.

More tears spilled over and tracked their paths down her cheek. When Isabel hugged her, it brought her out of the past and back to her room at Castle Rathcavan.

“Your mother said she would take us to Edinburgh with her next week if we wanted to go,” Isabel said.

“I may take her up on that for this may be more than I can bear,” Penny said. “Though if you and Charlotte are enjoying yourselves you should certainly stay. Do not let me be the one to end your party.”

“Let’s not think of that just yet,” Isabel said.

“Isa’s right. Any thought of leaving early is premature,” Charlotte said. “We’ll know more after dinner with Olivia and Lady Edgar. And, of course, after we confront that blackguard, Mr. Santiago.”

“I wish I knew when the earl was arriving with his friends. If I could leave with mother on Monday without having to see Mr. Santiago, I believe I will.” Penelope said. “The countess, my great-aunt Adina, said she didn’t know when they would return because the men were putting their equipment to rights after suffering an accident at the new earl’s iron mill. I believe that he, her grandson, owned one before he came into the title. For all I know, he may still own it.”

Her maid entered the room from the connecting dressing area, and stood silently a moment. “Yes, Annie?”

“I was sent to notify you that the family has gathered in the great hall.”

“Will there be anyone other than family?” Charlotte asked.

“Tonight? No, Miss,” replied her dutiful maid. “From what I’ve gathered, the guests who are invited to the birthday celebration and hunt will be arriving tomorrow for the festivities on Saturday.”

Penny exchanged curious glances with Charlotte and Isabel. “Thank you, Annie,” Charlotte said. “Isabel and I will be down shortly.”

After her maid was gone, Penny exhaled. As though an enormous weight lifted from her shoulders. “If you wouldn’t mind—” She pressed her hands together, bringing her finger tips to her chin. “Please inform my mother that I am claiming exhaustion from travel, and will decline going below for tonight. Annie can bring me a tray later.”

“Does Olivia know about you and Mr. Santiago?” This came from Isabel as she sat next to Charlotte on the edge of the bed.

“Lady Edgar does. She is the one who wrote to my mother when she recognized the name. Whether or not she told Olivia of the connection, I am unsure.”

“The best thing to do is to stick as close to the plan we decided on before we left London,” said Charlotte. “That is if he even comes to Rathcavan.”

Isabel agreed. “You just pretend he wasn’t that important to you at all. Act as though we don’t even remember him.”

“Do that,” Charlotte said, “and if you still feel that you cannot face him, then you can say you are unwell—”

“Until Monday,” Isabel added, “where we can leave for Edinburgh with your mother.”

Charlotte gave Isabel a look that made Penny want to laugh. Or, she would have if she were in a better mood.

“I thought you were staying here to hunt with Lady Adina. I wanted…”

“The right thing to do is go with Penelope and Aunt Beverly if they leave.” Isabel admonished.

“Go enjoy dinner,” Penny said. “And if you can learn anything new and interesting, I would love to hear it.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” Isabel asked.

“Not tonight.” Penelope had to, simply had to, grow a back bone between now and the next morning or her mother was sure to know she was still carrying a tendre for Mr. Santiago.

I
sabel linked
arms with Charlotte after closing Penelope’s door. She leaned in to speak to her in a whisper. “She will have to find the resolve she had before we walked into this castle very soon,” Isabel said to her cousin.

“Certainly before Mr. Santiago arrives,” Charlotte whispered back.

“We don’t know when that will be,” she replied. “So it might be a good idea to find out when he, and the earl, will get here.” Isabel wondered how it would look if her friend left with her mother, and she and Charlotte were to remain here. She didn’t think it would be good.

“I want you to consider something,” Isabel began, “that if Penny wishes to go with her mother to Edinburgh, I think we should go with them. Especially if a betrothal between her cousin and Mr. Santiago will take place. It might be unbearable for her, to see her cousin enter into a marriage, whether it’s by force or free will, with the man
Penelope
had fallen in love with. In that case, I think I will want to go with Aunt Beverly.”

Isabel knew that Charlotte really wanted to ride with the hunt next week, and so did she. But, where it felt to her that Charlotte wanted the hunt even at the expense of her friend’s happiness, Isabel just wanted Penelope to lay this issue with Mr. Santiago to rest as the past year has been difficult for them all—first with him away on a secret assignment, then learning of his return and his betrothal to Penelope’s cousin. It had taken everything Isabel and Charlotte had to keep Penny from sending the man a letter. She’d reminded Penelope that Mr. Santiago hadn’t been in London long, and perhaps he’d had a change of heart while he was away.

But that didn’t explain what he was doing in Scotland with her cousin, Olivia. Clearly these next few days would be difficult, though how difficult would depend on her cousin’s actions, and on Mr. Santiago’s explanation.

She and Charlotte reached the sprawling, wide staircase at the end of their hall, and when they stepped onto the landing mid-way down, Charlotte turned to look up behind them to make sure no one could hear what she wanted to say. “Certainly I will go if Aunt Beverly says I must,” she whispered. “But I am finally at Rathcavan, and I will not have that fickle Spaniard ruin my hunt.”

“Charlotte!” Isabel hissed.

“I’m sorry, but that man will hear a piece of my mind as soon as I can get him alone. What he did, leading my friend on then disappearing as he did, was despicable! If there was any proof besides Penny’s word, why she could sue him for breach of promise. I’ve heard my father talk of it before.”

“She would never want her pain on display for men to judge. Doing that would ruin her.”

“But Mr. Santiago needs to know that he cannot go around playing free with a lady’s affections. There are repercussions for men who make a habit of it.”

“While I feel very much the same as you, I care more about Penelope’s happiness than I do telling Mr. Santiago what a—” She looked around them to make sure no one was around. “—What a horse’s arse he is.”

A footman at the bottom of the steps glanced toward them, likely waiting to escort the two ladies to where the others gathered. Charlotte took the opportunity, to end the discussion by saying, “I care about both. Very much. He hurt
my
friend.”

When they landed on the main level near the great hall, the footman did, as Isabel guessed, leading she and Charlotte to where the family gathered before going in to dinner. Isabel stopped before stepping down into the hall. Voices carried through, and Isabel could hear her brother entertaining someone with one of his recent outings in London. Her brother was charming when he wanted to be—usually when there were pretty girls around. Since there were no other masculine voices, she wondered if there were any other men here besides Marcus.

She glanced up at Charlotte, who stood almost a full head taller than she did. When Charlotte nodded, the two of them turned the corner and descended into the great hall.

Isabel took in the room and the enormous, cut stone that comprised the walls, and massive beams overhead which obviously supported the slate roof she saw when their carriages arrived. This part of the castle, while ancient, was clean and in good repair, though still lit with candles in massive chandeliers hanging from the center rafter that bisected the length of the hall.

She saw her brother standing with a group of four women, one seated, the other three standing, and another man who looked to be a few years older than Marcus. They were all congregated around the massive hearth on one side of the long room. A fire blazed inside an opening big enough for Isabel to stand inside. She could almost envision rushes on the floor and giant Scottish hounds laying next to the laird of the estate, seated upon a throne. This part of the castle was surely as ancient as it looked. The mantle above the fire was a hand-hewn, enormous solid log that was built into the stone surround. On the wall opposite the hearth hung a massive tapestry featuring the colors and coat of arms for the earldom of Rathcavan—a golden dragon rampant on a background half red, half black.

As she and Charlotte drew closer to the cluster of people near the hearth, she smiled at her Aunt Beverly and Lady Adina who was seated near the fire. The other two ladies, and the man, were in deep conversation with her brother. The ladies turned and smiled when Marcus gestured toward her and Charlotte. The petite blonde, she concluded, was pretty. Very pretty. Her strawberry blonde hair was done in an elaborate chignon atop her head, and wisps of curls slipped her knot which gave her an endearing, youthful look.

Was this Olivia? She could see the familial resemblance to Penelope in coloring. But that was the only common thing. The other girl had curls, where Penny did not. The other girl was more strawberry blonde, not the golden blonde of her friend. The other girl was also petite and curvaceous, much like Isabel herself. Penelope and Charlotte were both tall and willowy.

She and Charlotte greeted Aunt Beverly, and Charlotte made her excuses for Penelope, saying she was still tired from the trip, but was sure to be fine tomorrow.

“Gowrey, if my great-niece is still not feeling well after a night’s rest, you must make her well. We hunt next week, and I know she’s a game lass, and has likely been looking forward to the hunt as much as these other two ladies.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the young man said through a smile after giving her a mock bow. Isabel thought he was very handsome. Tall and lean, like her brother, he had dark auburn curls, worn unfashionably short. His striking silvery-blue eyes were warm and friendly, softening the brow, and his wide, square jaw made that smile feel genuine to her.

BOOK: What the Fates Decree: The Caversham Chronicles-The Titans of the Revolution
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