Chapter Nineteen
‘Care to explain, Lady Penelope?’ Trudy asked in low staccato tones as she tugged Hattie to her side. Her brow narrowed in judgement.
Hattie smothered a smile and held her tongue.
‘Yes, do tell,’ Ophelia purred. ‘This betrothed of yours is a delicious creature. I thought all dukes were rather old and vapid, but not yours.’ She sucked in a breath.
‘Have you fallen in love just like I thought you would?’ She sighed dramatically and pressed her hand to her chest. ‘What greater love story could there be?’
Hattie pulled them along the hallway, avoiding all their questions, but revelling in the sight, sound and feel of them being reunited.
She was far too excited to see them, but she also didn’t want to tell them what was really going on until they were far from William.
Even though everyone else in the Manor knew she was no Lady Penelope, she couldn’t risk William overhearing what she knew would be a rather detailed and thorough interrogation.
‘Mrs Chisholm,’ Hattie called across the hall as they reached the base of the stairs. ‘Could you bring some refreshments upstairs to my chamber for our guests and show them their rooms?’
‘Of course. Follow me, ladies.’
‘Thank you,’ Hattie replied. ‘I will be along straight away, but first there is something I must do.’
‘But—’ Trudy began. Ophelia silenced her with a finely placed elbow to the ribs.
Trudy shot her a warning look and Hattie smothered a smile. ‘I must speak with William first. Then, we will catch up…on everything.’ She gifted them a smile and turned, the swish of her skirts whispering along the hardwood floors as she rushed back to the parlour.
William was still there, standing with his back to her, staring out the window with his hands tucked in his trouser pockets.
What she felt for him was so pure and honest, she did not even pause to think about her actions.
She scurried up to him, slid her arms around his waist and hugged him, resting her cheek against his back.
She felt pure unbridled bliss. There were simply no other words for it.
‘Thank you, thank you, thank you,’ she murmured to him.
His chuckle was warm and low, resounding deep in his belly. He turned in her arms. ‘So you approve of my surprise?’ he asked, light dancing in his eyes.
‘I more than approve. It may be the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me.’ She pressed a hand to his cheek and he leaned in to her touch.
She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.
The meeting of their lips was soft and gentle at first. Then, he pulled her in to him and the gratitude and sweetness she felt morphed into something deeper and more urgent.
Before she knew it, he was kissing the very life out of her and her limbs tingled and buzzed under the heat of his touch as his hands roamed up and down the column of her back and along her waist. She wasn’t entirely sure her feet were even touching the floor any more.
Why did he have to feel and smell so good?
A subtle cough sounded from the doorway. ‘William,’ she whispered as he kissed along the column of her throat. He must not have heard it. ‘Mrs Chisholm,’ she said with a chuckle.
He stilled and pulled away with a low curse that made her giggle like a schoolgirl.
‘Yes, Mrs Chisholm?’ William asked.
‘Your Grace,’ she replied with a small bow. ‘The ladies are settled and tea has been brought up to the small library upstairs in case you would like to join them, my lady.’
‘Thank you, Mrs Chisholm. I shall join them shortly. We have much to catch up on.’ She turned to William and mouthed ‘thank you’.
He lifted her hands and pressed a kiss between the delicate ridge of her knuckles and released her with a wink.
Her stomach fluttered to the floor like a fallen petal catching the breeze and she held her breath. The man was making her fall in love with him. She couldn’t stop the perilous journey she was on.
Nor did she want to.
Hattie entered the upstairs library and reading room and closed the door behind her with a click.
‘If this wasn’t one of the most gorgeous rooms I have ever been in, I would throttle you, Lady Penelope Denning,’ Trudy announced, exaggerating the syllables of Hattie’s assumed identity. Trudy looked up from the volume she had been skimming and snapped the book shut.
Ophelia bit her lip and rushed to Hattie.
‘What has happened, Hat?’ she asked, grasping one of Hattie’s hands.
‘We had a fright when we received your letter about you staying on, but with so few details, and then the carriage arrived for us from His Grace with an invitation to visit our friend, Lady Penelope Denning.’ She lowered her voice.
‘For a moment we thought you had been seduced into some sort of accommodation house and become a lady for hire.’ Ophelia giggled.
When Hattie didn’t immediately contradict her, both of her friends stilled and stared at her. The colour drained from Ophelia’s face. ‘You haven’t, have you?’
‘No,’ Hattie stammered out. ‘Not exactly.’
Trudy cocked her head and stared at her quizzically. ‘Then, what exactly is going on?’
‘It is a long story. Sit. I’ll pour us some tea. And enjoy the biscuits. The food here is exquisite.’
They both cut a glance at each other before they sat at the small table Mrs Chisholm had filled with a silver-tiered tray of biscuits, little sandwiches and other tasty treats and a steaming pot of tea with three cups and saucers.
Ophelia was the first to select a soft biscuit and pop it in her mouth.
Her eyes widened and she sighed. The bliss from the shortbread melting in her mouth was evident.
‘Delicious, are they not?’ Hattie asked, pouring their tea and adding sugars and milk. Trudy’s gaze followed Hattie until she settled into the chair between them.
‘Spill,’ Trudy said before sipping her tea.
‘Well, my position began as a governess just as I had expected. His daughter, Millie, my young charge, is adorable. And she reminds me…of me…of us.’ The other two stilled.
‘How so?’ Trudy asked. ‘Not to be obtuse, but she lives here. She has a father. How is she anything at all like us?’
‘Her mother died quite suddenly, tragically, and she hasn’t spoken a word since.’
‘That is dreadful,’ Ophelia said, setting her biscuit back on her plate. ‘Poor girl.’
‘How long has it been since she has spoken?’ Trudy asked.
‘Over a year,’ Hattie replied. ‘But I feel she is making progress…or at least I hope she is.’
‘A year?’ Ophelia whispered.
‘So how in the world have you ended up as this Lady Penelope Denning when you began here as Miss Hattie Potts, governess?’ Trudy examined the sandwiches and finally selected a cucumber mint.
‘Reporters were hounding His Grace at the Manor and gave his daughter and me quite a fright one morning out by the lake. The men are desperate for gossip about him and his late first wife to sell to the papers.’
‘That does not explain how this…’ Trudy paused and pointed at her dress and styling ‘…came to be.’
‘William had the idea of me becoming Lady Penelope Denning for the ball to celebrate his succession. He hoped it would keep the reporters at bay if I was to be his betrothed. It would give them the story they wanted, he said, so his daughter could be left alone as the reporters gave her a fright. For her benefit and for his, I agreed.’
‘But he acts as if you are this Penelope Denning when he knows you are not,’ Ophelia stated. ‘It makes little sense to me.’ She snagged another shortbread biscuit and popped it in her mouth. She made a small moan as she savoured it.
Heat crawled up Hattie’s neck and into her cheeks. If she had possessed one, she would have used that blasted fan from the ball to cool herself, but she didn’t, so her flush deepened. ‘It is because he has lost his memory and believes I am Lady Penelope Denning,’ Hattie replied and made a grimace.
Trudy choked on her cucumber sandwich and Ophelia landed a clean blow between her friend’s shoulder blades.
Ophelia patted her on the back and then turned a narrowed gaze on Hattie as if she were taking on Trudy’s line of questioning.
‘How? You have an entire household that knows you are no such person.’
‘That is true, but they are pretending I am. Then there was the ball where I was introduced to the ton as her, so all of those people believe I am as well.’ She looked down at her hands. Now that she was explaining all of it, it sounded rather horrid and deceitful.
‘You mean many people believe you are this made-up person?’ Ophelia asked, her eyes widening.
‘Yes. Somehow, I was able to be her. I put on fancy gowns and jewels and imagined myself to be the girl with a lovely home and parents who cared for me, just like we did when we were young. It was easier than I thought it would be to become someone else and pretend to have had a different past, like the one we always dreamed up. And a different life,’ she mused and shrugged.
Finally, she dared lift her gaze to them.
To her surprise Ophelia was smiling. She clapped her hands together.
‘That is truly wonderful and so romantic. You have become the princess and lady you were always meant to be. And you have found a man who cares for you and treats you as such.’ She sighed, her gaze wistful. ‘It is your happily ever after.’
Trudy snorted. ‘It is a lie is what it is.’
‘Trudy!’ Ophelia said, trying to shush her.
Hattie frowned, but nodded. ‘She is right. I know it is. And I know it will not last, but for now…for now it is…simply wonderful.’
‘But why are the servants and his family lying to him as well?’
‘To protect him. He and his daughter have lost much over the years and the Doctor, who knows I am not this Lady Penelope, hopes my presence as his betrothed will aid in his recovery. His household cares for him so much they have continued the ruse. They are all quite lovely,’ she added.
‘Even the fussiest of them, like Mr Simmons.’
‘He must be a good man to have a staff who adore him so and for him to have caught your affections,’ Ophelia added, reaching over and clutching Hattie’s hand. The gentleness of it undid her and her throat tightened.
‘Yes,’ Hattie agreed, swallowing back down the emotion. ‘He is the best of men. I only wish he cared for me as me, Hattie Potts. Not as Lady Penelope.’
‘So, before, when you were merely the governess, he showed no interest in you?’ Ophelia added, her brow crinkling. ‘I find that hard to believe with the way he looks at you now. Perhaps he had some inkling of feeling for you then, but could not show it as your employer.’
‘Perhaps there was something there,’ she added, ‘but he believes me to be his equal now. What will he do when he remembers who I am, realises I am no Lady Penelope, and that I continued with a ruse that was meant to be temporary?’ Her shoulders relaxed.
Saying her fears aloud to them soothed her.
She hadn’t had anyone to truly confide in about her fears until now.
Trudy reached over and placed her hand on top of Ophelia’s and Hattie smiled when she saw their hands stacked atop one another like when they were younger. ‘If he does not choose you again as Hattie Potts, then it is his loss, is it not? And no matter what, you will always have us.’
‘Always,’ Ophelia added. ‘You survived without the love of a duke before and, if need be, you can again.’
The thought of losing him and the life she had built here, no matter how fragile and imaginary it was, awakened the frightened child in her.
She knew what it felt like to have the foundation of everything she knew ripped out beneath her feet and she wanted desperately to never ever feel that way again.
‘I know. I just don’t want to,’ she added quietly, squeezing their hands before letting go.