Penelope (37 page)

“I begged Jimmy
to ask you why you had left and he agreed. I was outside listening
to everything you had to say. When Jimmy said you were willing to
take the bullet for me, I smacked my head. I was such a fool. How
could I have overlooked such an important fact? You love me and my
blasted knee is killing me, so hurry up and tell me if you will
marry me?” he finished softly.

“You are
certain that this time it is love?” she asked. She wanted to
believe him with all her heart, but the niggling doubt at the back
of her mind refused to go away.

He sighed and
stood up, “Remember Madame had told me that the thought of losing
my love would make me tremble in dread? Penelope, I trembled when
you were missing. I was out of my mind with worry. I had half of
the Bow Street Runners searching for you. I was a terrible sight to
behold. I drank myself into oblivion that night. I scared poor
Theodore into hiding. Perkins gave me my breakfast in bed and I
absently made the tea in a sugar pot and drank it. The next day I
finally tracked Madame down and she confessed that she had you safe
at Lockwood. She refused to tell me why you had left, but she did
give me lessons on how to woo you back.”

“Your grace,”
she said turning her face away, “I will be a nuisance as a
duchess.”

“An endearing
nuisance,” he replied promptly. “And if I hear you call me ‘Your
Grace’ again, I will kiss you. My name is Charles.”

“You brought my
goat,
your grace
.”

The duke
frowned and then his face lit up.

Penelope was
eyeing him mischievously.

“You want be
kissed, do you?” He paused, and then continued in a more serious
tone, “You do know that I love you?”

“How can I not?
You took lessons from Madame on how to woo me, brought my beloved
pet, and dressed up as a highwayman, deer stealer, and a burglar of
some note. Only a duke in love would do that, Charles.”

The bandits,
burglars, pickpockets, plunderers … all fifteen of them, along with
Mrs Jimmy Grey, exploded in cheers. Lady Bathsheba thumped her tail
enthusiastically on the ground.

The duke wasted
not a second longer and gathered her in his arms. The heated kiss
was broken only when Lady Bathsheba came bounding up.

“Sorry, could
hold her no longer,” Jimmy called.

Penelope hugged
her goat, tears of happiness streaming down her face.

On August 5th,
under stormy skies, Penelope, dressed in yards of silver satin and
lace, walked towards the church with her father. At the entrance
her mother fluttered down from the third cloud on the right and
gripped Penelope’s hand with her shadowy fingers. Together the
three of them entered the church, each of them content and
deliriously happy for the first time in years.

Inside the
church a hush fell upon the crowd as they caught sight of the
beautiful bride walking down the aisle followed by a goat in a
white lace bonnet. A few Grande Dames muttered that Penelope seemed
a tad eager to reach the duke’s side. They also grumbled that
Penelope’s vows were said a little bit too loudly to be considered
proper.

But when Miss
Penelope Winifred Rose Spebbington Fairweather and the Duke of
Blackthorne, Charles Cornelius Radclyff, were pronounced husband
and wife, the Grand Dames, along with the rest of those present,
cried their hearts out. Gertrude, the evil step-mother, wailed the
loudest, and Jimmy Grey actually stood up and cheered.

Finally, when
Penelope, as the new Duchess of Blackthorne, kissed the duke,
fourteen young women and Sir Henry Woodville swooned. The ladies
swooned because, as the Grand Dames put it, the kiss had been
outright scandalous. And Sir Henry swooned because during the
passionate kiss the duke’s dark moustache completely and
irrefutably detached from his upper lip.

At the wedding
breakfast table, Penelope smiled across at Anne (now Lady Rivers),
who winked back. She continued searching the happy faces until she
spotted the person she was looking for. Lord Adair acknowledged her
grin with a nod. He also pointed at her chin, and she quickly wiped
a crumb off her chin, her eyes grateful.

The late
morning revelries continued. The dowager was merrily tipsy and was
spotted dancing with Hopkins, the valet, near the full but silent
orchestra. Gertrude was wailing in one corner and no one was sure
if her tears were from happiness or heart wrenching misery. The
rumour mill also buzzed that ‘The Falcon’ had come to give the
bride his blessings. Jimmy, in turn, informed Penelope that the
Cobra had taken his broken heart to Ireland and decided to run a
respectable pub there.

The duke
detached himself from Sir Henry, who had spent the last hour
lecturing him on the importance of moustaches. He approached his
wife, who was busy gossiping with Lady Plasket, and whispered in
her ear. She blushed and nodded. They escaped to the orangery for a
few stolen kisses and whispered sweet nothings. He promised her
that the best part was still to come, and that was the wedding
night. The wedding night happened, but before that the wedding
afternoon happened (the bride and groom were impatient), and
Penelope agreed wholeheartedly that it had truly been the best.

In fact, it had
been so good that Penelope conceived that very day and gave birth
to a baby girl nine months later. The duke had sweated and paced
outside the room until he heard the bawling child.

Ten years later
the eighth child was born. Some men would have become used to the
process by now and taken themselves off to the gentleman’s club to
await the news of whether it was a boy, girl, or twins this time.
But the duke was not one of those men. He once again sweated and
paced outside the room until he heard the screech of a new born
child.

It was a girl,
and when he saw the wrinkly baby lying in Penelope’s arms, he
hmmphed.

‘No more,’ he
said sternly. “No more brats, I warning you, Penny.’

Penelope smiled
watching him pick up the child. Behind his cross expression, his
eyes were blazing with joy. She knew he would always be grim, but
she also knew that even after all these years, he loved her and
would continue to love her and all her little brats until her dying
day.

***

As for Lord
Adair, he was knighted for his services to the king (He is now in
the disguise of a chimney sweep trying to track down an
international jewel thief).

Perkins
retired. Hotchkins took his place.

Mary married
the stablehand.

Lady Bathsheba
married Lord Bathsheba and had many little Bathshebas.

In short,
everyone lived happily ever after, except for Lady Lydia Snowly,
who married the unfortunate Lord Poyning.

The End

Anya Wylde
lives in Ireland along with her husband and a fat French poodle
(now on a diet). She can cook a mean curry, and her idea of
exercise is occasionally stretching her toes. She holds a degree in
English literature and adores reading and writing. Connect with
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Cover design by Kimberly Killion,