Penelope Read Online Free Page A

was now on board a ship to India in search of spiritual
guidance.
    Therefore,
Penelope squared her shoulders, grabbed her skirt and dipped low in
an awkward curtsy.
    “I apologise,
your grace,” she said in a voice that only slightly shook.
    He stared at
her for a moment searching her face for any sign of mockery.
Finding none, he gave a brief nod and then turned his back on
her.
    “Anne, I wanted
a word with you about Lady Hartworth’s ball. I would like to accept
….” He trailed off staring at the corner where Penelope had been
originally sitting.
    Lady Radclyff
glanced worriedly at her mother, and then attempted to fling out
her skirts to hide the spot from the duke’s view.
    “Your skirts
can’t hide it. I can still see the thing, Anne,” the duke remarked,
staring at the three of them.
    No one dared to
reply.
    “I see … I have
to state the obvious and ask the question it seems. We are in the
Blue Room and, Mother, you seemed to be entertaining a guest for
tea. Now, I am confounded and curious to learn as to why you have a
goat eating what seems to be a lettuce leaf sitting in that corner
by the Chippendale chair.”
    The goat in
question looked up from its plate of lettuce sandwiches and
baaed.
    “Lady Bathsheba
doesn’t like being called a goat …,” Penelope muttered to
herself.
    The duke turned
to look at Penelope, and her next statement died on her lips.
    “Lady Bathsheba
is it?” he asked softly.
    Penelope
clutched her skirts and tried to bite her tongue. Her unfortunate
habit of babbling when nervous and spewing nonsense reared its ugly
head. She avoided his eyes, digging her nails into her palm.
    It was no
good.
    She could feel
the words bubble up inside her, and she finally gave up the battle
and let her tongue have its way, “Well yes, you see we have an aunt
called Lady Bathsheba, and my younger sister Janet is very fond of
her, and when she left for the Americas, Janet wouldn’t stop
crying. I had to do something, and finally I told her that the baby
goat was really Lady Bathsheba, who had been transformed by a
magician whom she had slighted. Lady Bathsheba is really very
gentle and has been my companion for a while. She is used to being
around me at all times, and the only time she misbehaves is when
someone calls her a G-O-A-T and—”
    “Your sister,
she believed you?” Lady Radclyff interrupted, receiving a glare
from the duke for her efforts.
    “Yes, you see
Janet was only five. Now she is six. She doesn’t believe so anymore
…,” Penelope replied trailing off.
    The duke looked
baffled for a moment, and then he scowled and said, “I will not
agree to waste good coin on introducing this … this pastoral
nuisance into polite society. The goat goes back home with the girl
today, and I don’t care how late it is. She may travel all night. I
will send armed guards if necessary.”
    He then
addressed his butler, who had mysteriously appeared at his side,
“Perkins, ask Hopkins to fetch the fake moustache from my room. I
need to visit my grandfather.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “And, Anne,
come see me in my study before dinner.”
    “Yes, of
course,” Lady Radclyff replied.
    He gave a short
nod and then with a last glare at the goat strode out of the
room.
    The door banged
shut behind him making Penelope jump. She picked a spot on the
carpet and tried to look every bit engrossed. She had been
unceremoniously dismissed within a day of her arrival in London.
She was utterly mortified and felt about as big as an ant.
    She cringed,
squeezing her eyes shut. She no longer knew how to face the two
women she had been entertaining a few moments ago. She forced one
eye open when she felt a touch on her arm.
    The dowager had
come up to her and Penelope braced herself for the apologetic
speech that she felt sure was coming. The dowager would no doubt
tell her how sorry she was and that she would arrange for a
suitable carriage to drive her back to Finnshire.
    “Open your
other eye as well,