Page 15 of Trusting Her Duke

“We have no choice.” Penelope was already turning towards the stairs. “Mary, have the groom ready my horse. I think that the small carriage would be too slow in this weather. Then hurry upstairs and help me change into my riding habit.”

“My Lady!” Mary’s voice held alarm. “You cannot mean to ride out in this storm!”

“I can and I will.” Penelope’s voice held steel. “Sir Lionel means to destroy both our estates through false claims in Chancery. I will not stand idle while he plants forged documents that could invalidate centuries of properly registered rights.”

“At least let me come with you,” Rosalind pleaded, already reaching for her own cloak.

“No.” Penelope’s voice brooked no argument as she secured her riding hat. “You must go in the carriage. If you reach Ravensworth first, warn your brother - and make sure that he understands that this isn’t about...” she faltered slightly, “about personal matters. This is about protecting both estates’ ancient rights.”

Thunder crashed again, closer now, and a flash of lightning illuminated the window like daylight. Mary wrung her hands, clearly torn between loyalty and genuine fear for her mistress’s safety.

“My Lady, surely there must be some other way. The storm...”

“Will slow Sir Lionel’s men as much as it slows me.” Penelope checked her hat strings with fingers that trembled only slightly. “And I know these lanes better than they do. I’ve ridden them often enough while visiting tenants. Now stop wasting time, and let me go to change.”

The thought brought a fresh stab of pain - how many of those rides had been with Alexander, learning the bounds of both estates? How easily they had worked together then, his methodical attention to detail complementing her understanding of the people who worked these lands. She hurriedly changed, assisted by Mary once she returned from asking that the horse be made ready, then rushed back downstairs.

“Artemis is ready, my Lady,” called a groom from the doorway, rain dripping from his oilskins. “Though she’s not happy about it.”

“No more than any of us,” Penelope muttered, but her voice strengthened as she continued, “Very well. Rosalind has taken the carriage. Mary, send word to my father - he should know what’s happening. And have Featherstone alerted. We may need witnesses to whatever Sir Lionel attempts.”

She paused at the door, suddenly struck by the magnitude of what she was about to do. Riding out in such weather was madness. Riding to Ravensworth, to Alexander... that was perhaps even greater madness. But she could not - would not - allow Sir Lionel to destroy everything that generations had built, merely because she and Alexander had allowed personal pain to divide them.

Minutes later, the rain struck like needles against her face as she urged Artemis through the storm. The mare was steady despite her displeasure, picking her way carefully along the muddy lanes. Lightning flashed again, showing the path ahead in stark relief for just a moment before plunging them back into grey darkness. Every hoofbeat seemed to echo Penelope’s thundering heart. What would she find at Ravensworth? How would Alexander react to her arrival? The questions plagued her even as she pushed them aside to focus on more immediate concerns - like keeping Artemis upright on the increasingly treacherous path.

She chose the tenant’s lane through the woodland, the same path that had started all this trouble when her carriage broke down those weeks ago. The trees provided some shelter from the worst of the rain, though every gust of wind sent showers of drops down from the branches above. Another flash of lightning showed a fallen branch ahead. Penelope guided Artemis around it, remembering how she and Alexander had walked this very path just days ago, discussing the ancient right of way that connected their estates. His voice had been warm then, full of plans for improving access for their tenants...

She forced the memory away. Focus. She needed to focus.

Through the drumming of rain and thunder, she heard what seemed like hooves on the main road - multiple horses, moving at a careful pace in the storm. Sir Lionel’s party, no doubt. They’d chosen the longer but better-maintained route, just as she’d hoped. Penelope urged Artemis faster. The tenant’s path would bring her to Ravensworth’s stable yard, while Sir Lionel’s men would have to approach by the main drive. She had perhaps ten minutes’ advantage, no more.

The grey bulk of Ravensworth Hall loomed suddenly through the rain, its windows glowing with warmth that seemed to mock her drenched and shivering state. As she drew closer, a figure emerged from the stables, running towards her through the downpour.

“Lady Penelope!” It was Alf, Alexander’s head groom. “Here, let me take her. Though what you’re doing out in this...”

“No time,” she swung down from the saddle, her sodden skirts slapping against her legs. “Sir Lionel’s men are coming. They have some sort of writ... where is His Grace?”

“In his study, my Lady. Hasn’t left it since dawn.” Alf’s weathered face showed concern as he took Artemis’s reins. “Lady Rosalind’s carriage just arrived too, though how she got here so fast...”

“She took the main road just before the storm worsened.” Penelope was already moving towards the house, water streaming from her riding habit. “Have stable boys posted to watch the drive. I need to know the moment Sir Lionel’s party arrives.”

She didn’t wait for his response, taking the kitchen entrance rather than the more formal front door. The warmth hit her like a physical blow as she stepped inside, and the familiar scent of beeswax and coffee - always coffee in this house - made her heart clench painfully.

Mrs Thackeray appeared from the kitchen, took one look at her dripping form, and immediately began issuing orders to hovering maids.

“Hot water, blankets, and... oh, my Lady, you’re not here for comfort, are you?”

“No time,” Penelope said again, though her teeth had begun to chatter. “His Grace’s study. Now.”

As she approached the study so did Rosalind from the other direction. For a moment, her steps faltered. The last time she’d been in this room...

No. Focus on what matters.

She pushed open the door without knocking, Rosalind beside her. They entered the room together. Alexander stood by his desk, still in riding clothes himself, his cravat askew as if he’d been tugging at it in frustration. He looked up at her entrance, and the shock on his face would have been amusing in other circumstances.

“Penelope?” Her name emerged halfway between a question and a prayer. “What in God’s name...”

“Sir Lionel’s men are coming,” she cut him off, moving quickly to his desk. “They have some sort of writ demanding access to estate records. They mean to plant false evidence among your papers, ‘discover’ it during their search, and use it to support their petition to Chancery.”

She watched understanding replace shock in his eyes, followed quickly by something that might have been admiration.

“You rode through this storm to warn us?”

“I rode through this storm to protect both our estates – I couldn’t be sure that Rosalind would get here in time, by carriage,” she corrected sharply. “Now, which documents are most crucial? Which ones do we need to secure before they arrive?”

For a heartbeat, he simply looked at her, water still dripping from her riding habit onto his carpets. Then his expression shifted to one she recognised from their days working together - focused, strategic, yet somehow warmed by something deeper.

“The original boundary documents are in the deed box,” he said, already moving to a cabinet behind his desk. “Along with the water rights agreements you’ve been looking for. But there’s more...” He paused, glancing at Rosalind. “Leave us.”

“But...”

“Now, Rosalind. And station Albert at the front door. Delay them when they arrive - legally, properly, but delay them.”

His sister departed with obvious reluctance. As soon as the door closed, Alexander turned back to Penelope, his expression intent.

“There’s something you need to see.” He withdrew a leather folder from the cabinet, handling it with careful reverence. “I found these yesterday, but I couldn’t send them through intermediaries. They’re too important.”

Despite herself, Penelope moved closer. The scent of his cologne and coffee enveloped her, and she forced herself to focus on the documents he was spreading across his desk rather than his proximity.

“These are...” she broke off as she recognised the handwriting. “These are from your father’s time. And mine.”

“Yes.” His voice was soft but urgent. “Look at the dates, Penelope. Look at what they were planning together.”

Her eyes scanned the papers quickly, understanding dawning.

“They were creating a joint petition to Chancery. To formally register the shared rights of both estates...”

“Which would have made it impossible for anyone to ever challenge the traditional boundaries.” He was standing very close now, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him. “Our fathers were working together to protect both estates’ future. Until...”

“Until your father’s accident.” The pieces fell into place. “And the documents were never filed with the Court.”

“No. But they were properly witnessed. If we file them now...”

A thunderous knock from below interrupted whatever else he might have said. Lord Albert’s voice echoed up the stairs, properly courteous but pitched to carry.

“Good morning, gentlemen. I’m afraid that His Grace is quite occupied at present. Perhaps if you’d care to wait in the morning room?”

“They’re here.” Penelope’s hands moved swiftly, gathering the crucial documents. “These need to be hidden. Somewhere they won’t think to look during their search.”

“Agreed.” Alexander was already moving, his actions swift and certain. He pulled a book from the shelves - a volume of Shakespeare, she noticed with sudden remembrance of where her father had found other important papers. Behind it, a small panel swung open.

“A hidden compartment?” Despite their urgent situation, she couldn’t help but smile. “How very dramatic of you.”

“My grandfather’s innovation.” That almost-smile touched his lips as he carefully stored the documents. “He had a flair for the theatrical. Though in this case...”

“It may save both our estates.” She finished for him, then added quietly, “I should have trusted you to have legitimate reasons for studying those water rights documents.”

His hands stilled on the panel.

“Penelope...”

“No.” She stepped back, remembering why they stood here, drenched, and desperate and divided. “We don’t have time for... for that discussion. What else needs to be secured?”

He closed the panel and restored the book. The sound of voices again carried from below - Sir Lionel’s distinct tones now joining Lord Albert’s. Alexander’s expression hardened as he turned back to his desk.

The desk on which lay the notebook she’d given him, filled with her notes on the boundary issues.

“The tenant ledgers.” He pulled several volumes from a stack. “They’ll want to examine these, claiming to look for evidence of mismanagement. But they’re more likely to add false entries while they’re at it.”

“Give them to me.” At his questioning look, she explained, “I’ll take them to the library. Make it appear I’m simply continuing our work from... from before. They’ll be less likely to interfere with a lady’s reading. And this…” she scooped up the notebook, “put it on the bookshelves, and hopefully they won’t notice it.”

Understanding dawned in his eyes.

“Yes. And it gives you legitimate reason to be here, beyond...” He hesitated. “Beyond warning us about their arrival.” More voices from below, growing louder. Footsteps on the stairs. “Go.” He handed her the ledgers, then scooped up the notebook, turning to the shelves as he indicated a door. “Through the connecting door to the library. I’ll receive them here.”

She turned to leave, then paused.

“Alexander...”

“I know.” His voice held everything they didn’t have time to say. “We’ll talk. After.”

The library felt like both sanctuary and torment as Penelope settled at the reading table, spreading the ledgers before her with careful precision. Every detail of the room sparked memories - the window seat where they’d spent hours reviewing documents, the globe they’d used to trace trade routes affecting local farmers, the chess set where a half-finished game still stood exactly as they’d left it.

Her riding habit was slowly steaming in the warmth from the fire, but she couldn’t bring herself to care about the impropriety of her appearance. Through the connecting door, she could hear voices in Alexander’s study - Sir Lionel’s smooth tones clearly audible.

“Your Grace, I assure you that this is all quite proper. The writ specifically allows us to examine any documents pertaining to estate management and boundary claims.”

“How fortunate that Lady Penelope is already reviewing the relevant ledgers.” Alexander’s voice held that dangerous quiet she remembered. “Though I’m curious how you anticipated our need to examine these particular documents today.”

A pause, then Sir Lionel’s voice again, slightly less smooth.

“Lady Penelope is here? How... unexpected.”

“Is it?” Alexander’s tone was glacial. “Given that these matters affect both estates equally?”

Penelope bent over the ledgers, making a show of taking notes, as footsteps approached the library door. Sir Lionel entered first, followed by two men she didn’t recognise - London solicitors by their dress - and Alexander.

“Lady Penelope.” Sir Lionel’s practiced smile didn’t reach his eyes. “What a delightful surprise. Though you seem somewhat... damp.”

“The weather is rather inclement,” she replied without looking up. “But estate business cannot wait upon sunshine, Sir Lionel. As I’m sure you’re aware, given your own urgent activities this morning.”

One of the solicitors moved towards her table, but Alexander’s voice cracked like a whip.

“The lady is working. You may examine other documents until she is finished.”

The man hesitated, glancing at Sir Lionel, who smiled again - that same empty expression.

“Of course, of course. We wouldn’t want to interrupt such... dedicated attention to estate matters. Though I do wonder what brings you here in such weather, my lady. Surely these ledgers could wait for a finer day?”

Penelope met his gaze steadily, though her hands wanted to clench into fists beneath the table.

“As His Grace mentioned, these matters affect both estates. Unlike some, we prefer to maintain proper documentation of all traditional rights and usage.”

She saw Alexander’s slight nod of approval from the corner of her eye. The implied contrast with Sir Lionel’s own notorious lack of estate records didn’t go unnoticed - one of the London solicitors shifted uncomfortably.

“Indeed.” Sir Lionel’s smile acquired a sharp edge. “Though one wonders about the propriety of such... close cooperation between estates. Especially given recent events.”

“I wonder more at the propriety of attempting to overturn centuries of registered rights through manufactured evidence.” The words escaped before she could moderate them, but she kept her tone perfectly pleasant. “Though perhaps that’s simply my limited understanding of modern estate management.”

A muscle ticked in Sir Lionel’s jaw. The solicitors had begun examining shelves of documents, as indicated by Alexander, but she noticed how they lingered within earshot.

“My dear Lady Penelope,” Sir Lionel’s voice dripped false concern, “you seem somewhat overwrought. Perhaps recent tensions have affected your judgment? I would hate to think that your father’s position might be compromised by any... emotional decisions.”

“That’s enough.” Alexander’s quiet voice held more threat than a shout. “You are here to examine documents, Sir Lionel, not cast aspersions on a lady’s character.”

“Merely expressing concern.” Sir Lionel spread his hands in a gesture of innocence. “After all, riding out alone in such weather, arriving in such a state... one might almost think that there was some urgency to prevent our legitimate examination of estate records.”

The trap in his words lay obvious - any protest would only confirm his implications. Penelope forced herself to turn a page in the ledger, keeping her voice light.

“The only urgency, Sir Lionel, is in completing this review of water rights documentation before the quarter sessions. Though of course, you would know all about urgent financial matters, wouldn’t you?”

Sir Lionel’s carefully maintained expression faltered for just a moment.

“I’m sure I don’t take your meaning, my Lady.”

“No?” Penelope made a careful notation, not looking up. “How fascinating. I had heard that you were quite... knowledgeable about leveraging future expectations. Though perhaps I misunderstood the terms being discussed in certain London gaming hells?”

She heard Alexander’s sharp intake of breath, felt rather than saw him move slightly closer to her table. Sir Lionel’s face had gone quite still.

“You overstep, madam.”

“Do I?” Now she did look up, meeting his gaze directly. “I rather thought it was you overstepping - hoping to gain control of ancient rights you’ve already sold to your creditors. How much did they advance you, Sir Lionel? How much are our estates worth in your gambling debts?”