In A Fortnight: Final Draft

[Monday]

The complete and final version of the novella, In A Fortnight, by Meghan Young.

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[Monday]

Day One

Penelope grew up to be prim and proper, which was expected of all young ladies at the time, and was exactly what she didn't want to be. She went through the motions: No speaking unless spoken to, delicately drinking her tea, and making polite conversation with the utmost proficiency. But whenever she felt no one was looking, she would get away, and just ride her horse as fast as she could in the opposite direction of whatever was bothering her (usually her parents). Of course ladies were only supposed to ride horses side saddle, and very slowly, always the perfect example of elegance. But what was the fun in that? When she was younger these things didn't matter as much, but there seemed a world of difference since she was a girl. And to think that she was now a young women of eighteen! Honestly, what would the neighbors think?! She smiled dryly.
Today, she was especially feeling shut in to the stale life of the wealthy. She had known this life since she was very little, and sadly it was almost all she knew. Besides that of which she had learned from reading, of course. She also knew that she was to marry the Duke of Westerfield but the idea of marrying a complete stranger made her sort of sick to the stomach. She supposed she should be happy. He was rumored to be very brave, not to mention rich. But he was also two and forty years old.
After a short trot around the pond, she went to put her horse back into the stables. She wanted to go inside and relax a bit before having to talk to her mother about her betrothed. The annual ball was to be held at their manor soon, and that was when she was going to meet the duke, otherwise known as Lord Harold. She had no idea when she was going to actually get married, but she guessed it wouldn’t be to far in the future. She hoped that she had a couple more months, at least, before letting go of her childhood home, but lady luck had never exactly agreed with her.
As she rode into the stable, however, she met the only person that was terrible enough to distract her from her not to distant marriage.
"Why are you here?" she asked staring down at the man who never failed to annoy her. Derek might have been renowned in the area for his brilliant skills with a horse, and might be considered charming to some people, but she saw him for what he really was: An impertinent boy, whose arrogance and thick-headedness surpassed all those in the county. He might make it easier on her to loathe him if he didn’t have every other soul convinced that he was the best trainer and salesman around. However, his charm didn’t just include his clever tongue. He had chestnut colored hair that coupled with his bright blue eyes to give him a rather handsome look. At least, that’s what she heard from the girls in town who constantly prattled on about him. She hated to admit it, but he had his life in pretty good order for having practically brought himself up and had turned out to be a well rounded young man. To all except herself.
"Well I do take care of the horses; it is my job around here. And besides I should ask the same of you. Shouldn't you be inside like a good little girl, instead of galloping at full speed all over God-knows-where? Wouldn't want to break that pretty neck of your's now would we?" he said wagging his finger at her.
"First of all, Derek, it’s none of your business what I do, and secondly the day I start caring what you think about me is the day the world stops spinning!" she said walking around him with her head turned up stubbornly. He laughed mockingly as she stalked away.
He always made her feel so childish, and in the process reduced her to acting like one. She couldn't stand that boy, and, ironically, she couldn't even remember the reason why she started disliking him. She had been fighting with him since she was five, and there always seemed to be plenty of reasons to be irritated with Mr. Mathews.
As Penelope approached the house, her thoughts returned to what had led her to be so irritated in the first place. She knew her mother wanted to talk to her about something and that it probably had to do with Lord Harold. But she was still determined to put it off for as long as possible.
She had to find a part of the manor that was unlikely to quarter any member of the household. With a smile, she instantly thought of the old study with all of the family’s books. It was one of her more favorite places to go, and she was quite certain of never finding her mother or father there. She scoured the shelves full of dusty old tomes, and after finding a suitable book, plopped down on a well worn sofa. The introduction was only just coming to an end, however, when one of the maids finally found her. When her mother wanted to talk to someone, it didn't matter where you were, she would find you.
She walked into the parlor which was her mother’s regular haunt. The lady of the house went there when she couldn’t find any maid or servant to boss around, or to methodically plan her next string of annoying tasks. At least, this is what Penelope sometimes imagined her doing.
Upon entering, the first thing that Penelope noticed was that her mother was wringing her hands. This was not a good sign. When you grow up with people you tend to notice certain actions that illustrate what they are feeling. When her mother wrung her hands it meant she was anxious about something, an emotion her mother found barely tolerable. She would try to relieve her stress to someone else, and as quickly as possible for her mother was not the patient type.
Penelope noticed that the rest of her mother’s appearance gave her away as well. Her clothes were always neat and stain free (something Penelope couldn’t always boast), and today was no exception. But her neatly pinned up blonde hair had a few loose strands, and looked a bit more gray today then usual. Also, the wrinkles on her forehead which she usually hid with powder and a plastered on smile were showing ever so slightly, not to mention her green eyes that were usually sharp and powerful were slightly dulled. Penelope vaguely wondered if this is how she would look in twenty odd years. Not a day went by when somebody didn’t comment on how alike they looked.
"Sit down Penelope. I need to talk to you.” Penelope followed her orders without hesitation. Her stomach was in knots, and she really didn’t want to be here, but not following her mother’s instructions wasn’t an option. Proper ladies always respected the commands of their elders.
“The mask is but a week away, and as you know that is when you will meet Lord Harold." Her mother paused at this.
"Go on," urged Penelope, becoming more uneasy by the minute.
"Well, the duke grows impatient and it seems that he has decided that he wants to be married a week after the ball. Once you two are married, you’ll move directly to your new home, so you will be leaving the very night of the wedding. I'm sorry, but your father didn't want to offend the Duke. You know how much our family appreciates his patronage.”
By appreciate she really meant depended on to maintain their current state of life. They had acquired a certain amount of debt over the years that Penelope wasn’t even entrusted in knowing.
“We all knew it was to happen eventually. His estate, were you two will live is in Wales is, regrettably, quite a distance from here. He's only been staying in Edinburgh for the past few years to court you."
"To court me? I haven’t seen a sign of him in these supposed ‘few years’ that he’s even been near here and he expects me to marry him after a week of knowing him?"
"It is unfortunate, dear, but you will be very happy with him someday, I’m sure. I heard his estate is lovely in the spring time,” she added, as if the place he lived could lessen the impact of the rest of what she was saying.
Her mother tried to give her most confident looking smile, but the effect was lost on Penelope’s growing fury.
“I'm afraid I have other things to do now, dear. There is still so much planning to do for the ball. Oh and I’ll talk to your father about maybe getting Lord Harold here before the ball, if you really are so anxious to get to know him. A picnic of tea and sandwiches by the lake sounds like it would be marvelous fun. He really is a lovely man. I'm sure, in time, you'll come to like him."
Penelope didn't want to like him. She wanted to love a man before she was married to him, not after. Despite her turmoil, she was thankful that the whole ordeal hadn't come as a complete surprise. She always knew she wouldn’t find a story book love. And she couldn't blame her parents entirely. Her marriage to the Duke would provide her and her family with protection, power, and privilege.
Still, she didn't expect to be married off so quickly, either.
It wouldn't be so bad moving away, she tried to convince herself. The only people she would miss would be several of the maids, which she had made friends with over the years. She would especially miss her friend Isabel whose mother was the cook for their estate. Though they were from two different worlds, Penelope and Isabel had been friends since they were ten years old. In fact, she felt like she should talk to Isabel right now about the current condition of her social life.
Penelope ran down to the kitchens were Isabel worked beside her mother as a scullery maid. At last she finally found her, in front of a waist bin, peeling potatoes rapidly. She wore the same uniform as all of the other maids; a plain light blue dress with an apron over it. Isabel was short for her age but very beautiful, with her marvelous butterscotch skin tone and flowing black hair. Penelope had always envied her, especially her grace. She had never once seen her trip and fall, though she found herself constantly stumbling about the place. Penelope was a tall, gangly little thing and had never quite figured out the whole gravity thing.
"Isabel, can I talk to you?"
"I'm a little busy at the moment... Your mother insisted on having mashed potatoes tonight."
"Please, it's really important," said Penelope, looking at her friend desperately. She felt a little guilty about dragging Isabel away from her work, but not enough to smile when she got her way.
"Oh all right, but this better be good," said Isabel setting down her potato and knife.
Penelope sat her down in the next room, and told her all of what had just happened, including the fact that she had lunch with Lord Harold tomorrow.
There was a short pause after Penelope completed her story, before Isabel spoke. "Well it's obvious what you have to do, isn't it?"
"What's that?" said Penelope with a smile. Isabel was always the daring one in the friendship and could come up with a plan for any potentially problematic situation.
"You are going to get married in two weeks! Don't you think you should make the time you have left at least a little enjoyable?" Isabel spoke as if she was going to her grave instead of the alter. What’s the difference? Penelope couldn’t help herself from thinking.
"I'm still not following you..."
"At the ball next week, everyone will be wearing masks; no one will be able to tell who is who! For one last night you are going to be a free woman! Have some fun with a couple of the lads there while you still have the chance!"
"That's a great idea! And while I’m at it, why don’t I hike up my skirts in broad daylight, and swear during church,” argued Penelope, “I’m sure my parents will appreciate that too. She didn’t mean to sound so pessimistic, but even this was a little beyond Isabel’s realm of sanity. It was one thing to flirt with the harmless town’s boys where she wouldn’t be caught, but right under her mother’s (not to mention fiancé’s) nose? It seemed somewhat fool-hearty to her.
"Look, all I'm saying is that this is your last opportunity! Isn't it worth the risk?!"
Penelope sighed. She saw the pout on Isabel’s face, and wondered if maybe she wasn’t living vicariously through her when it came to social events of this nature. More than once, Isabel had talked her into going to some kind of dance or otherwise meaningless event of the wealthy. Penelope smiled grudgingly, and to appease her friend, added, “I’ll think about it.”
Isabel seemed content with this answer, at least for now, and Penelope let her go back to peeling potatoes.
After helping her through half a dozen of them herself (her mother would never approve of her helping the kitchen staff, but then again that was part of the reason why she did it), Penelope decided to go to the large willow tree by the pond. It always gave her a sense of relaxation, and was her own little get away (besides the library). She had quite concluded that these quiet spots were an essential part of every girl’s happiness, and she herself had several around her parent’s estate. Always in close reach, waiting to comfort her.
As she sat beneath the tree, she contemplated what she should do. It was easy for Isabel to make such a decision, she was always bold. Penelope would swap places with her in an instant. She would be losing her life of luxury and riches, but they were worthless to her if she would have to endure the company of someone she didn't love.
After a lot of thinking, and well after sunset, she decided to go ahead and have one last night of freedom. She would put her hair up differently, wear a dress no one had seen, and be a completely different person for just one night. Afterwards, she told herself, she would stay by her fiancé’s side, just like her parents had intended. If she couldn't decide who she wanted to be with for the rest of her life, she was at least going to choose for this one night...

[Monday]

Day Two

"What have you gotten yourself into now, Penny?" Penelope woke with a daze when she heard the very familiar words of someone who greatly annoyed her. When she could finally see clearly she understood that she had fallen asleep beneath the willow tree last night and was now staring up at Derek Matthews who had rudely woken her. Then she realized, to her true horror that she was supposed to have lunch with Lord Harold at noon. Jumping up quickly, she looked around and realized that the house was already beginning to stir, and that she would never make it back before her mother noticed that she was a miss. Derek was staring at her with amusement in his eyes as if enjoying her humiliation. But however much she despised him, she knew she needed his help.
She put a smile on and asked with her sweetest and kindest voice, "Derek would you kindly give me a ride to the house, and quickly?"
"And miss the fun of you getting in trouble? I don’t think so," said Derek with a smirk.
"Please, Derek, this one time!"
"Have you already forgotten all the other times I've helped you out of trouble before? What about the time you had broken that vase and I helped put it back together, or the time you spilt lemonade all over the silk table cloth, or the time you let the parakeet fly away, or the time-"
"All right, all right! I get the point! Now are you going to help me out or not!?" It's not as if she was never grateful that he had helped her!
"I suppose I must, being a gentleman and all," he said giving her a lift up onto one of her family’s numerous mares.
Penelope tried to suppress a laugh about his being a gentleman, but it was in no way easy. Since when was a stable boy with an inflated ego considered a gentleman?
"So why do you need to rush back so quickly?" said Derek still smirking.
"Not that it’s any of your business, but I'm having lunch with my fiancé, Lord Harold, the Duke of Westerfield," said Penelope trying to impress him with her betrothed’s title.
"Wow, that is surprising!" said Derek, seeming genuinely taken aback.
Penelope blushed at his comment. "Well, I know he's a bit older, but I would think that, with time-"
"No, no. It's a shock that he would ask to marry such a stubborn, childish girl like you. I would have thought he was more intelligent than that."
Penelope could feel her face becoming red, but not from embarrassment this time. "How do you know how smart he is, anyway? And what gives you the right to chastise me like that?!"
"Well first of all I am far more mature and wise than you, giving me the right to comment on your behavior," said Derek in what, Penelope thought, was a very annoying tone that actually did make her feel like a child. "And second, I have it on good authority that your Lord Harold is a military genius.”
"Well I surely hope he is not as profoundly annoying as you!" said Penelope, truly meaning every word.
"Trust me; it's no more pleasant for me to be near you either."
They had hardly been with each other for five minutes and they were already bickering like school children. When they finally got to the house, Penelope practically jumped of the horse.
"Why do I even bother helping you? And I've never even gotten a thank you either!" said Derek, irritated.
"I'll give you a thank you! Thank you for once again proving to me that you are nothing more than a rude, obnoxious, farm boy!"
"Well at least I’m not a clumsy and annoying spoiled brat!"
She turned on her heel towards the house, while he hottely turned the horse around and trotted off mumbling under his breath, though Penelope was unable to make out any of what he was saying.
As she walked towards the front entrance of her home the butler, James, opened the door with a smile.
"Young ladies do not usually shout at young men who come to their aid," he said smiling. “It’s considered bad form, most often.”
"Well, most young ladies don't have to deal with Mr. Mathews," she said in response, returning the smile. James was a kind, old man and had been with her family for as long as she could remember.
She bid him farewell as casually as she could before practically running to her bedroom. No longer than a minute after she had wrapped herself up in her cover, her mother came in to rouse her for the day.
"Penelope, dear, you need to get up soon,” her mother said to her while she pretended to groggily open here eyes, “I have wonderful news. Lord Harold will be having lunch with us after all.” Her mother wasn’t enthusiastic about much, but when it came to match making, she had no greater passion.
“The duke likes to have lunch earlier than we are used too. Pamala will assist you in getting ready. I must go tend to other matters." She was gone as quickly as she had entered. It was no surprise to Penelope, though. Pamala had always taken care of her, since her mother was not the type to raise children.
Pamala entered her room with the kind of loud carrying voice that always preceded her. "Why dearie, you must where this lovely blue dress! It will look ever so wonderful on a day as beautiful as this!" said Pamala with a cheery smile as she riffled through her wardrobe. She had always been the happiest servant Penelope had ever known. Pamala was even shorter then Penelope with curly grey hair, and a wide, rosy cheeked face. Her happiness was most likely due to the fact that Penelope's grandmother, while she was still alive, had saved her and her husband from the streets of the city and had given them a job here. The maid’s husband was the polite butler, James and together, they were like the aunt and uncle she never had.
She slipped on the clean and crisp blue dress and began her nervous walk down stairs. It was already ten o’clock; she didn't know how she managed to sleep that long. If Derek hadn't of come along she could have been in a tremendous amount trouble. She hated to think that she needed his help. She couldn't stand him.
Penelope started to grow even more anxious about meeting the duke. If Derek approved of him, she feared he might be just as much of a nightmare as he was. How dreadful that would be!
As she walked into the parlor there stood her mother, father, and a rather large man she assumed was the Duke. He wasn’t exceptionally tall compared to other men, and Penelope could almost reach his height. He had a worn, but satisfied face adorned with a dark brown beard, which she noticed had quite a few streaks of grey in it.
"My lord," said Penelope with her best curtsey, though curtsying had always been a bit of a problem with her. She managed, however, to do so without falling over which was a huge relief to her.
In return, the duke bowed so low that Penelope thought at first that his nose might touch the ground. "On santé mademoiselle," said Lord Harold in a terrible fake French accent. He bent down once again, only this time kissing her hand.
"It's very nice to meet you," said Penelope trying to sound sincere as she slipped her hand out of his grasp. She preferred her hand to be slobber free, thank you very much. All of a sudden a small roar came from Lord Harold's direction, and startled Penelope until she noticed where exactly it had come from.
"I'm starved!” Lord Harold exclaimed redundantly. “Shall we be off to the lake for lunch?"
All four of them walked the short distance to the patio by the lake. It was an all together lovely day outside and Penelope would have greatly enjoyed being out of doors for lunch, as she always did, if Lord Harold hadn't been vacuuming down the food. Not only that but he kept rambling on about various war battles that made Penelope want to fall asleep. She would have, too, if her mother hadn't of kept jabbing her with her elbow every five minutes to make her pay attention.
As Lord Harold single handedly continued the conversation about his ancestors and the battle at Buckanese Bridge, Penelope's mind wandered to the beautiful grounds that their house sat upon.
The area surrounding the lake, first of all, was enchanting. Her beloved willow tree sat at the opposite end of their oversized pond. Little ducklings swam by the water's edge under the watchful eye of their mother. The lilies were all in bloom at this time of the year and were scattered everywhere. It was the most picturesque sight, and Penelope would miss it all so much.
"Wouldn't you agree with me, Penelope?" Lord Harold asked her while she was still amidst her thoughts of the land.
"Huh?"
"Lord Harold was just telling us about what a splendid meal this was," she heard her father say with a deceivingly calm voice. He was very strict when it came to manners, as was her mother.
"Oh, yes, it is quite delicious," said Penelope automatically.
“But you’ve hardly touched your food, my lady!” said Lord Harold in a worried voice that was almost convincing. Almost.
She looked down at her plate to see that she had eaten about two bites of her meal. She wasn’t a big fan of cucumber sandwiches.
She avoided her mother’s glare from across the table that was Penelope’s clue that she was embarrassing herself and her parents.
“Well, I’m not very hungry,” Penelope said, trying to appease her mother, “But I’m sure they’re absolutely divine.” She gave Lord Harold a smile, but her mother still seemed miffed.
The duke himself didn’t look to upset, and after asking if she minded if he took her uneaten portion (she didn’t), he ate them up in about two bites each.
She thought he would make a wonderful magician, the way he made food disappear. Her parents were like wise impressed. Well, her mother looked slightly disgusted, but her father sat in near amazement.
Lord Harold smiled at her, not noticing the strange looks he was receiving. "Would you like to accompany me for a walk about the lake?"
Penelope didn't particularly want to go anywhere with Lord Harold, but it would seem rude not to say yes and well, he was her fiancé. "I would be delighted," she said, giving him her best fake smile.
Penelope saw her mother wink at her dad out of the corner of her eye. She noted how fast of a recovery her mother had made from the shock of seeing her daughter’s betrothed suck down two sandwiches as if they were nothing.
This was ridiculous! They acted as if they were cupid or something, making them fall in love, when really all they were doing was making her stay awake!
Lord Harold stretched out his arm for her to take hold of. They had started up the path, when Penelope spotted Derek up by the stables. She decided to act like she was having a wonderful time, just to prove him wrong, she told herself. Any man would be glad to marry her and somehow the thought of proving that to him seemed like a victory. Much to her dismay, however, he just smiled and even waved at them! The nerve! Well, she wouldn't give him the gratification of success. She gave him her kindest smile, and returned the wave. Penelope saw the almost imperceptible look of annoyance flicker across his face, before smoothing back to its smooth façade, but she was satisfied. She turned her attention back to Lord Harold, though she knew all she had to look forward too was more of his oh-so-stimulating conversation.
"Penelope," Lord Harold began, "I know this whole marriage thing is a bit sudden, but I think you'll come to find that living with me has its advantages."
"Such as…" Penelope inquired. She wasn't expecting this and was curious to hear what would be so grand about living with such a total stranger.
"Well first of all, you'll be able to buy almost anything you want, that is, within your allowance. I have a personal seamstress who can tailor any dress to fit you perfectly. I even own some of the best pure bred horses around, and you can ride them when the occasion calls for it and with an escort. Your father told me you enjoyed riding," he said with a wink as if it were their little secret. She didn't like the idea of the duke and her father talking about her behind her back.
"And, " the duke continued, "you'll have one of the most handsome and intelligent men around," he said puffing his chest out in pride.
"And who might that be?"
"Why me of course!" he said with a laugh.
Penelope blushed. He obviously thought she was joking with him, but she really hadn’t realized that he was talking about himself! He certainly was not handsome, and hadn't been too intelligent thus far. She wasn’t sure how she liked the whole bribing-her-into-liking-their-marriage-thing yet, but it was better then the alternative. Which was him not caring at all.
"Well, we need to be heading back soon. I'm afraid I must leave your side for now," said Lord Harold.
"What a pity," replied Penelope, trying to sound convincing, though she was truly thankful.
They spoke about Lord Harold's fighting technique (well mostly it was him that did the talking) until they were but a few yards from the house. "I thought we might go on a ride tomorrow to become more acquainted with each other. How would you like that?"
"Well..." Penelope was about to make up an excuse for not being able to come, when she saw her mom nodding her head up and down from behind Lord Harold. She would rather listen to his boring war stories then get a lecture from her mom, and she was going to have to spend time with him eventually anyways. "... I would be delighted."
Penelope waved good-bye as Lord Harold walked to his carriage. She was so glad that there little walk was over, that she ran inside to talk to Isabel, when she bumped into none other than Derek. "I'm sorry miss-" said Derek politely, until he noticed who had run into him. "Oh, it's you."
"Well, it's ever so lovely to see you, too!" said Penelope sarcastically.
"How was your little date, Penny?” She cringed every time he called her that.
"My name is Penelope, not Penny! And our lunch went splendidly!" lied Penelope. "I'm sure he'll make a fine husband."
"I still find it surprising that he would want to marry you.”
"Oh, don’t you pretend to be so unaware! I've been promised to this man since I was five!"
"And you just met him for the first time today?!"
Penelope blushed. She didn't like being made a fool. "I'll have you know that I've fallen madly in love with Lord Harold in the past... few hours that I've known him. We're practically like Romeo and Juliet!"
"Well except for the fact that your Romeo is almost twice your age!" retorted Derek.
"Age has no limits on love!" snapped Penelope.
"Well then, I'll make sure to be there on your wedding day to see the happy couple wed!"
"Fine!"
"Fine!" They both stormed off in opposite directions, leaving each other's company mad, as usual.
Still fuming, Penelope made her way to Isabel’s room. What she meant to talk about with her friend was that she was definitely going to the ball but what they ended up talking about instead was how angry she was with Derek.
"I just can't stand him! Why can't he ever be half-way decent to me!?" Penelope practically shouted to her friend.
"Well I think it's cute, the way you two always fight. Especially when he calls you Penny!" laughed Isabel.
"Cute?! It's utterly childish!"
"And arguing with him about every minor detail isn't?" questioned Isabel, with a broad smile on her face. Penelope quickly made a mental note to not do that anymore. She was tired of people calling her childish.
"Well... that's different! Anyways, I wanted to tell you that I've decided to go to the mask like you suggested."
"Oh, this is so exciting!" exclaimed Isabel.
"Um... there's one other thing, though. Will you help me pick out something to wear?" asked Penelope. “You’re far better at that kind of thing then I am.”
"Of course I will! You didn't think I was going to leave you to pick out your own dress, did you?! I think I know what would be the perfect outfit, as a matter of fact!" said Isabel leaping to her feat. Isabel was very proud that she had her own room, including a bed, a wardrobe, and a desk and chair. Her family had been with Penelope's for a long time, and had become, in a way, to be family themselves. Penelope sat on the bed, while Isabel rummaged through her closet.
"This dress looks horrid on me, but I imagine, it will make you look like a vision," said Isabel, finally turning around, revealing the most beautiful dress Penelope had ever seen in her life. It was made in the finest pink silk she had ever seen, and was trimmed with beautiful red roses, entwined in deep green vines. The neck lowered down elegantly, and a small train trailed in the back. Penelope stood up with her mouth open wide, getting a closer look at the dress.
"Now, the dress was made to fit me, and that was about a year ago, so we'll have to add to the length, and the trim is a bit tattered over here, and..."
"Thank you so much, Isabel," said Penelope hugging her friend, “for everything."
“It’s just a dress, honey,” Isabel said, hugging her friend. Nevertheless, Isabel was more then happy to receive praise from her truest friend.

[Monday]

Day 3

Penelope lay awake in the early morning, staring at her ceiling, and waiting for someone to come in and wake her. She went to bed early that night and, for once, in her own bed. She would actually wake up on time today, despite Isabel’s wishes of staying up late to make plans for the ball. For now, however, she was feeling too anxious about going riding with Lord Harold to think of much else. Though she was a master horseman, Penelope had more then a little difficulty with riding side-saddle like a proper lady. She would always find herself sliding off the edge of her seat and often times did. Most of the time though, she could catch herself and scoot back up on the horse before she came crashing to the ground.
The longer she remained in bed, the more things raced through her head including the up and coming ball. She could not wait, and yet she was terrified all the same. She could only imagine the catastrophe that would occur if her parents were to find her batting her eyelashes (or kissing) another besides her betrothed. If that did ever happen she would probably be kept indoors, and out of sight, until people stopped gossiping about the scandalous Penelope Walker. Unfaithful women were usually kept out of public places, as too not attract any attention. The only good that could possibly come out of it is that she might weasel her way out of marring Lord Harold, though it was highly unlikely.
Penelope was so deep in her thoughts that she was startled when someone knocked on her door. "Come in," she said, trying to slow her heart rate.
It turned out to be just Pamala, looking bright and cheery as ever. She walked over to the window and ripped open the curtains. "It's such a beautiful day for a horse ride, wouldn't you say?" said Pamala giving a very obvious wink in Penelope's direction.
"Pamala!" Penelope could not believe her maid (and friend’s) behavior.
"I was only saying that you might enjoy spending some alone time with Lord Harold, is all," she replied innocently.
"Well, to be honest, I'm dreading it! He makes me want to fall asleep. That’s not very safe when you’re riding side-saddle.” Despite herself, she started to laugh at the idea.
"I bet he won't be a bore on your wedding night, if you know what I mean!" she said, once again, winking.
"Pamala, you should be ashamed!" exclaimed Penelope launching a pillow at her.
"I'm only saying!" said Pamala, though a very wide grin spread across her face.
Pamala might have thought she knew Penelope’s feeling towards Lord Harold, but she couldn’t be more wrong. Never the less she couldn't help but laugh at her comments. She slipped on a faded blue dress that she often wore when she rode horses. She saw no point in ruining a perfectly good gown by getting it all smelly and dirty.
She walked outside of her room and standing right in front of her door was Lord Harold, looking as lackluster as ever. He smiled and once again greeted her with a wet sloppy kiss to the hand. As soon as she was released she wiped her damp hand on her dress as discreetly as possible. She wondered if he would still do that every day once they were married.
"I have many things to talk to you about Penelope,” he said, looking pleased with himself, “so we should be off as soon as possible. I have a meeting with a general today at noon."
Penelope was glad that she would only have to deal with this man for a bit before he would leave, but she was more then a little curious about what he wanted to talk to her about.
"Lead the way," she said to him with a smile. What ever it was it couldn't be that bad... could it?
They walked slowly towards the stables where Derek had saddled two horses for them.
"Are you actually going to stay on the horse this time, Penny?" whispered Derek in her ear, flashing her one of his taunting smile.
"Oh shut up and help me on the stupid horse," hissed Penelope right back. She was in no mood for his games this morning. As gracefully as she could manage, Penelope sat side saddle and proper on top of her horse.
"Well you almost look like a lady," commented Derek, where only she could here him. In response, Penelope stuck up her nose, as usual, and followed Lord Harold.
No sooner were they at the path that led through the woods then did Lord Harold start to talk. Penelope tried to tune him out, as he rambled on about the history of the pistol. She stared at the muddy ground of the path, which had the consistency of tar. "...the bullets fly fairly straight now, but who isn’t guilty of a few accidental misses... Penelope, are you listening to me?" Lord Harold questioned.
"Huh? Oh, of course," said Penelope not really caring.
"Well I thought we could talk, but if staring at the ground is more interesting..."
She had wanted to tell him to go ahead and leave but her mother would never approve. And if nothing else, Penelope wanted her off of back. “Sorry, it’s just that I... stayed up to late last night." She didn't want to lie, but she didn't want to tell him that she was bored out of her mind listening to him.
"I’ll let it slide this time," he said as if he was talking to one of his military underlings. She didn’t care for his attitude and she most certainly didn’t need his approval!
"Now, straight to the matters I wanted to talk about. I was thinking, and I've decided that six or seven children will be the right amount. Most of them will be boys of course."
"Of course,” said Penelope, still barely listening to him, “and whose children are we talking about?"
"Why ours, obviously!" he said like it was so apparent.
Penelope just sat there gaping at him, not knowing what to say, when she realized she was moving. Falling, actually, into six inches of sticky, black mud. She tried to stop herself from her eminent disaster, but it was too late. She was covered. Not only had her bottom gotten the initial impact of the fall, but there was a blast radius that had layered everything in close proximity, making her look like some kind of pathetic mud monster.
"Dear Lord, did you just fall off of your horse?" said Lord Harold hopping down from atop his mount and walking towards her.
"No, I just thought I'd jump down hear for a second and play in the mud! Would you like to join me?" She was being completely sarcastic, of course, but he looked down at her like she had completely lost her mind. After a few moments of silent argument to himself on how to react to this statement, he decided to pretend he hadn't noticed her random burst of insanity.
"Aren't you going to get up?" he questioned. The truth was that she had been trying to for the last couple of minutes, but the mud had caused some kind of suction cup affect on her.
"I can't, I'm stuck." She reached out her hand to him, but he just stood there and starred at it, not saying a word. "Well, are you going to help me up or not?!" She didn't mean to be rude, but this was getting ridiculous!
"Now there's no need to ruin a perfectly good pair of gloves by getting them all muddy. I'll go fetch a servant to assist you. You just stay hear, I'll be back in a jiff," he said, and started to trot his horse back down the path. She couldn't believe her ears! Some gentleman he was, leaving a lady here in the mud!
“So you can fight off a hundred men, but you can’t get your gloves dirty to help a lady?” she grumbled to herself.
She struggled to get out, but she couldn't budge. She heard some one walking down the road, and had expected to see Lord Harold with a servant, but instead she just saw Derek.
She stared in horror as the oh-so-familiar figure approached, knowing that he was going to taunt her about falling into the mud for the rest of her life. It was little surprise then, what he said next.
"Wow," he said smirking at her, “Isn’t this a sticky predicament, Penny.” He never did have a problem with laughing at his own jokes, especially if they were at the expense of Penelope.
"Save me the laughs, and just help me out over here!" she said, getting even more annoyed at his little nick name for her.
"You sure are bossy, for someone whose waste deep in mud, you know that?" he said smiling.
She gave up; she knew there was only one way to win this silly game of his. "Please, Derek, will you help me get out of the mud?" she said, trying to be as sincere as possible.
"Now was that so hard to say?" he said flashing another taunting smile. She hated it. He reached out his hand and she slopped her gross muddy one into it. His firm grip tugged at her arm strongly and Penelope was quickly pulled free of the mud's grasp, but unfortunately fell into Derek's the next moment.
She practically jumped back off of him. The worst part of the whole situation was that she was blushing blatantly. Thank God she was covered in mud, or she knew he would be laughing at her even harder. After a few seconds Derek finally spoke. "Well?"
"Well what?" she asked nervously.
"Well are you going to say thank you, or are you just going to stand there looking like a fool?" They went right back to their old game of who can make the other one more mad, faster, and she liked it that way. She most certainly did not like being embarrassed, especially around Derek. And even more so when she didn’t know why she was embarrassed in the first place.
"Your welcome, your highness!" she said taking a small bow.
"That's gratitude for you! Well, at least I don't look like something from the black lagoon," he said grinning.
She grabbed a huge hand full of mud and slammed it straight down on his head smiling devilishly. "Now you do!"
Next thing she knew, they were waged in a head to head mud fight, and she was clearly winning.
Within five minutes Derek was covered in as much mud as she was, maybe more. They were both laughing uproariously, but unfortunately, Lord Harold was coming up the road at a steady pace, taking her attention momentarily away from their battle, and causing her to get a glob of mud thrust right in her face.
"What on earth happened to you?!" cried Lord Harold upon seeing her.
"We're having a mud fight," said Penelope, once again not caring what he thought. “Want to join?”
"I would have thought you would be more mature than that, from what I’ve heard of you," he said looking at Derek. What, did he think that Derek was responsible and she wasn't!?
"Sorry, sir. It was very foolish of me,” he said glaring at Penelope. “I'll, ah, just be going now." As he stalked away he turned back scowling at Penelope behind Lord Harold's back, and mouthed 'You started it'.
She would have laughed if her fiancé wasn’t standing right there looking at her as if they were going to get married with her covered in mud. "Let's go. I'm already late for my meeting." Penelope felt more like a child being scolded then a future wife. She slid onto her horse and the two of them rode back toward the house without a word spoken between them.

~~~

As she expected her mother was highly disappointed in her. Apparently, it was very scandalous to through mud at another man when you were to be wed soon, but Penelope didn't see how. Pamala helped her wash the mud that was caked on her, and by mid-afternoon she was as good as new. She knew her mother wouldn't be to keen to the idea, but she wanted to go clean off her horse as well. Buttercup was a good mare, and deserved to be cared for by a loving hand. Besides, it wasn’t as if Penelope minded if she became dirty again. She could always take another bath.
She trudged out to the stables, and as she expected, the horse was as dirty as she had been. She foresaw another bath for herself in the near future.
Penelope decided to brush off her horse as best she could without getting too dirty herself, and she was nearly done when she heard some familiar sounding footsteps coming into the barn. She rolled her eyes before he even began to speak.
"I hope you’re happy, Penny, now Lord Harold will think of me as a child, like he does you,” grumbled Derek, coming up from behind her. She kept her back to him and concentrated on the task at hand.
"It's your own fault!" she said in defiance.
"If I’m not mistaken, you’re the one that cast the first blow."
She turned around deciding that Buttercup’s cote was satisfactorily shiny, and noticed that Derek had cleaned up as well.
"I couldn't help it, you provoked me. And besides, you’re only three years older than me and therefore equal in maturity."
“Oh?” he said, skeptically, “And how do you figure that one?”
She snickered at his ignorance, before replying, “Everyone knows that boys mature at a much slower rate then girls.”
"Well that’s not the case for me."
She knew he was right even though she hated to admit it. She may have disliked his attitude toward her, but she could at least appreciate that his life hadn’t been an easy one. His mother died when he was only ten years old. She had worked at their manner as a maid, and Penelope could still remember her. She was so beautiful. Derek had the same strong blue eyes as her.
His father was a kind hearted man, but the day his wife died he was never the same. She hadn’t seen him in probably six or seven years. Needless to say he had gone through some very hard times after she died. Derek needed a job to help support his bereaved father, and they were happy to give him one. He started as a stable boy, but eventually learned how to raise the horses himself, and became very good at what he did.
No, Derek was far beyond his years, and she knew that. But she still wasn’t going to stand for his snide comments and it was only what he expected from her.
"Even so, you have no right to act like you’re my superior!"
"I'm not the one who sleeps in fields and falls of my horse!"
"Well even when I do fall of my horse I can whip you at a mud fight any day!" she said beginning to smile.
"You caught me at a bad time," he said grinning as well. "One day we'll have to have a re-match.”
"It’s a deal," she said and stuck out her hand. He grasped her hand that was dwarfed by his. For the briefest of moments they looked at each other smiling and she could swear there was something different about him that she couldn’t quite place…
But then it was over and he was walking away. She headed back to the house wondering what exactly had just happened. She concluded that Derek could be a pain, but some times he was a friend in a weird teasing kind of way. She was actually saddened by the idea that she was never going to ever have another mud fight, whether with Derek or not.
When she moved away with Lord Harold, she would have to be a lady all of the time. As if that were even possible! When she wasn't tripping and running late for everything, she was to busy having fun to be considered a lady. How trivial it would all be!
On a different note, she was still more then a little shocked by Lord Harold's announcement about children! She hadn't even thought that far ahead! What would become of her then? Would her only use just be to provide him with heirs, while he gallivants throughout Europe doing whatever he feels like!? No way, not her! She might have to marry Lord Harold, but that didn't mean she had to be a slave to him! Or was marriage and slavery the same thing for women...?
As Penelope walked back to the house (it was now dusk and the beautiful view of the sun setting behind the lake was breathtaking) she made a mental note not to let Lord Harold (or any man, for that matter) treat her as an object instead of a person. She stopped where she was and took a moment to breath in her surroundings. How many more nights of this would she have? Just being out here relaxed her so much that, for a few moments, she forgot her worries over the ball, and Lord Harold and getting married. All that existed was her and this beautiful place.
Her mother, however, called her name from somewhere within the house, and the serene feeling she was experiencing stopped abruptly. All of her worry came crashing back down on her with more weight than expected. Her knees shook from her heavy burden as she trudged back to the house, giving one last glance at the picturesque sunset.
She strode into the house, exhausted from her escapade. Her mother was so impatient, that by the time she got to her room (which happened to be in one of the farthest parts of the manor) her mother had gone to bed and simply left a note.

I trust that your horse was cleaned with relative ease, and that you won't have to bathe again. Tomorrow Lord Harold has asked if you will accompany him to a bad mitten game. I told him that you would be overjoyed to come. I hear they’re all the rage in London right now!
Sleep well,
Your Mother

Penelope supposed she shouldn't be surprised. Her mother was always making decisions for her. If she had arranged her marriage what made Penelope think she wouldn’t organize a bad mitten game without her consent! Without another thought, she flopped on her bed and fell into a deep, and very needed slumber.

[Monday]

Day 4

Penelope slept like a rock, and (much to her delight) she found it raining when she awoke. Rain meant canceling any outdoor activities. Her theory was that men thought women were so delicate that they would surely melt if they were ever caught in the rain.
As usual, she was a living contradiction to this statement. She loved to play in the rain. In fact, besides mud fighting, it was one of her favorite pass-times. She had never really been the "proper" kind of girl. Her parents were young when she was born, and they would constantly go to elegant parties across England and sometimes Europe. In fact one of her clearest childhood memories is when they came home one day after staying in France for almost six months and she didn’t even recognize them. Pamela and her husband practically raised her, and they certainly were not "proper" in any way. Pamala, James and Isabel had been the only constants in her life. Well, all except for Derek, but she didn’t count him among her nearest and dearest.
The point of all this was that she would rather deal with the rain then spend long periods of time with Lord Harold, any day. He was such a stick in the mud! Speaking of mud, there land would be covered in it completely, which meant she wouldn't be able to ride her horse for at least a week. She supposed it was for the best; she needed some rest after the excitement of the last couple of days.
She brushed her hair out and slipped on a deep purple dress embroidered with silk thread, shaped as thistles. It was one of her favorite dresses. She walked toward the kitchen and had a simple breakfast of fruit, which she also loved. The rain was still pouring heavily, and there was quite a thunderstorm going on as well. She sat by the window and looked on in wonder. It was terrifying and beautiful all at once.
After finishing her delicious apple she decided to go looking for a piece of the cook’s famous chocolate cake. Isabel’s mother used the rain as an excuse to make pastries, and this worked well to Penelope’s advantage. The rain could become tiresome if it was too dangerous to go outside, and when she was bored, she ate. Her mother always teased her that it was a miracle that she was so skinny, when she ate so much.
When she returned from the kitchen (Isabel’s mom was still making the cake) she found Derek sitting in her seat, gazing at the lightning as she had.
"Excuse me, but I believe that you are in my seat," she said tauntingly.
"Well it's my seat now."
"A gentleman would be glad to give away his seat to a lady."
"Well I would do that if I was in the presence of a lady."
"What do you call me?!"
"Penny, you are nothing more than a child!"
"May I remind you that I’m going to be married soon? And would a mere girl be marrying a man that was forty two years old?!"
"Only a very foolish one!"
"Sometimes, Derek Mathews, you are such a pain in the rear!" Penelope grumbled grabbing a chair and pulling it up to the table.
"Does it make you feel better to say my full name?" he said still staring out the window.
"Well, actually, it does!"
He got up and started to head towards the door, which was unusual considering that he would usually throw another come back at her by now.
"Are you feeling all right?" she asked him.
He turned around and met her gaze. "Fine. Why do you ask?"
"You just don't seem to be your usual self today, that's all."
"Why, Penny, are you actually concerned for me?" he said in mock surprise as he flashed her one of his smiles that infuriated her.
She flushed a light pink and looked away. “I was only saying that you are usually a lot ruder to me, but I can see now that you are perfectly fine!"
His smile disappeared and he sat back down in his seat, and once again turned his gaze to the window. Well she was certainly not going to stand for this! What a perfectly dreadful day stuck indoors with Mr. thinks-he-knows-everything! This certainly would not do.
"Hold this, please," she said as she handed her shawl to Derek.
"Where are you going?" he asked taking it absentmindedly.
"Well to have some fun of course! You don't expect me to stay cooped up inside all day do you?"
"Where will you go in weather like this?" he asked skeptically.
"I'm going in the weather! The feeling of rain on ones skin is more refreshing than you would think!"
"What if you get struck by lighting?"
"I suppose that's just a risk I'm going to have to take! Honestly, Derek, where's your sense of adventure?!"
She started heading out the door.
"Well don't expect me to bail you out if you get into trouble."
"Don't worry, I won't."
"Don't come running to me when you come back fried to a crisp."
"If you're that worried about my well being, why don't you just come with me? Or are you afraid?"
This time it was his turn to turn a shade of scarlet.
"First of all, I'm not afraid of a little rain storm, and second of all, I don't want my butt on the line when you get hurt."
Her hand was on the doorknob now.
"You don't have to worry about me," she said smiling.
"Well, you'll probably end up in worse trouble if I don't come with you."
"Great!" she smiled. She was the master of reverse psychology. "Oh but you might want to set down my shawl first."
He completely forgot that she had handed it to him, and grumbled to himself. He set it down the same time that Penelope released the door and ran outside to meet the cool, wet feeling spreading fast across her face.
What a relief it was to be momentarily free of her troubling thoughts. It felt so wonderful outside that she hardly noticed that Derek had stopped at the stoop staring out at her like she was insane. Great! She thought to herself just great! How was she supposed to enjoy herself if Derek was being all pouty over there? He was raining on her parade (no pun intended)! She reached out and tugged on his hand to get him outdoors, but instead of moving him she did the moving.
Her hands were very slick around his and before she knew it she was on the ground staring up at Derek. He had that know-it-all smirk spread across his lips as he reached out his hand to help her up. "That really was a pathetic attempt, you know that."
She pushed away his hand helping herself up. "Well it worked didn't it!" she said, noticing he had bent down into the storm to reach out his hand. "Besides, it's just a bit of mud!" she smiled at him and began to dance around the rain as she had before.
Still, Derek insisted on being a pain!
"If you're going to be out here, you might as well enjoy yourself," she called to him.
"What makes you think I'm not?"
"Please, Derek! Look at you! You look like you just lost your dog or something. I mean, of all people, I should be the one that's upset!" she said walking up to him. The rain was poring down so thickly that she could hardly see him.
"Why should you be upset? You have your whole life laid before you!"
"And that's something to be happy about?"
"Yes! You don't have to worry about how you're going to pay for the rent the next day, or how much food your family ate that night."
"Derek, if you need money, you can just ask my father, he-"
"I don't want your family's money. Look, just forget I said anything."
"Excuse me for trying to help." She didn't want to be rude, but he was being highly ungrateful, when she was trying to be nice to him.
"Who ever said that I wanted your help?"
"Well you were practically begging for help, moping about the house, and then acting all worried about me!"
He just stared at her looking absolutely dumb founded, until he finally spoke.
"No offense, Lady Westerfield, but I think I've had enough help from you to last me a life time."
He started to walk away when she realized that he hadn't called her Penny, but by her soon to be husband's last name. "I'm not married to him yet!"
"Really? Well you fit the part of royal snob perfectly!" he called back as he stalked away.
The nerve of that man! She thought to herself. No one, not even he, had ever talked to her that way before. She sat dripping wet and freezing, staring at the black shadow of Derek's back as he slowly faded away.

~~~

"Oh, dear, look at you! You look like a soaked kitten!"
Penelope sat on Isabel's bed, a warm blanket wrapped around her, shivering.
"Oh I’ll be fine. My pride, however, might not survive the damage."
She had just relayed the events that had occurred in the rain with Derek.
"I still can't believe what he said to me."
"Well can you blame him?"
"Yes!" Penelope said, defensively.
"Think about this, Penelope. To a lot of people, it would be an honor to except money from your family, but to Derek, who has known you practically his whole life and has worked very hard to make that life normal, it would be difficult to accept that. It would seem almost an insult. I mean, you two have been friends forever."
"Friends! More like enemies! We can't seem to go five minutes without arguing."
"Well none the less, I imagine he was pretty offended."
"You can say that again," exclaimed Penelope. "Still, I'm glad it's raining today! The less time I spend with Lord Harold the better!"
"Honey, you're going to be married to the man in less than two weeks! Don't you think it's time that you get to know him a bit better?"
"What's the point! I know I will probably never learn to love him the way I want to love someone, and he will never love me the way I want to be loved."
"How do you know that he won't grow on you?"
"I don't know for sure, it's just a feeling I have. I just think that when I see the person I love, I would know. But with Lord Harold there's no spark, no nothing. I just see the man that I will spend the rest of my miserable life with and nothing more."
"You really have some issues."
"It's not that big of a deal. I knew this was coming. It’s the lot of the aristocracy. What I'm going to miss the most is this place, and all of my friends. I'll even miss you, Isabel!"
"Oh how nice of you."
"You know you love me!" she said, flashing her a smile, "When ever Lord Harold goes away for the military and who knows what else, I'll sneak back here to be with all of you."
Penelope's heart gave another twist at being away from everyone that she loved, but she knew she had little choice. She was trapped...
That night, as Penelope slept, she had the most terrible nightmare since the time she dreamt that Buttercup had run away, when she was ten.
She was all alone in a large, unfamiliar manor and she had the greatest feeling of emptiness she had felt in her entire life. But then she saw her friend, Isabel, outside talking to none other than Derek. She walked to the door and opened it and was about to go talk to them, when Isabel said "You can't come over here with us! You have to go watch the baby!" then Derek chimed in "You can't be our friends. The only friend for you right now is your child." They pushed her inside the house and somehow locked the door from the outside. When she turned around she saw her child. However it was no ordinary baby. It had the face of Lord Harold, beard and all.
Penelope would have gasped, but before she could utter a sound, the baby, her baby, started to speak. He droned on and on about nothing in particular, and before long Penelope was drifting to sleep. He was just so terribly boring! Just like his father... she heard Derek's voice some were in the distance.
"It's time to wake up Penny. You need to wake up." He kept calling to her and she realized that he wasn't talking to her from the dream world, but from the real world. She woke with a start and hit her head against something hard and heard some grumbled curse words. She opened her eyes and there was Derek rubbing his head.
"What are you doing in my room?" she asked Derek in confusion.
"Have I ever told you how hard headed you are?" he said, not answering her question.
"What-are-you-doing-in-my-room?!" she repeated to him slowly.

[Monday]

Day 5

It was then that she realized that she was still in her night gown and she pulled her sheets up around her.
"Would you relax? Pamela was busy and she told me too wake you up for her,” he said, still rubbing his head. “Where you having a nightmare or something? The way you jumped up like that you would think the devil himself was after you! What was it about, anyways?"
"For your information, only children have nightmares. I was merely having an unpleasant dream, that's all. And you have no business knowing what my dreams are about, Derek."
Just then Pamela came in the room carrying such a tall pile of laundry that she only had a vague idea of where she was going. So, naturally, she bumped into a couple of peaces of furniture that so happened to be in her path. "Oh good, that nice young man Derek has already woken you. That was fast, I didn't even see him leave."
"Well, actually-" said Penelope trying to explain that he was still, in fact, in the room. Pamala continued, however, not noticing that Penelope was trying to speak or that he was in the room.
As she headed into the bathroom to collect Penelope's garments for washing, she managed to knock over a potted plant, and three books came tumbling off the shelves. Derek followed behind her, trying to correct the damage that she was unaware of inflicting.
"What a fine young gentleman he is, and quite handsome to boot!"
"Pamela, he's-!" said Penelope, trying to get to her once again, but to no avail.
"It's a shame, though, that you're going to be married to that old fart. You and Derek would look quite nice together, don’t you think love?"
"Pamala!" said Penelope blushing uncontrollably. "He's still in the room!"
Pamela dropped the clothes at her feet, and she too turned red. "Oh... well... you should leave, I mean eavesdropping like you are on two ladies!" She came up behind Derek and started to push him out of the door. "What kind of a gentleman does that?! Embarrassing me like that. Out, out!" She gave him one final push and slammed the door behind her. "What is the world coming too?!"
Penelope sat on the bed, rolling with laughter.
"Oh stop your silliness, child! We have to get you ready."
"Ready for what?" asked Penelope, sobering up quickly. It was no surprise to her that plans were made without her consent. She was rarely informed of these kinds of things.
"Why it's Sunday dear."
"Oh." That could only mean one thing. Church. It's not as if she disliked church, but their Reverend was almost seventy and he had a habit of falling asleep right in the middle of his own sermon. On one such occasion, the general gathering decided that he might have died (he wasn’t snoring audibly) and they were about to send some one to check on him when he finally came too.
This was quite amusing to the younger members of the church, and they were susceptible to large bouts of laughter as the Reverend snored for ten minutes straight. Their parents did not approve and insisted on ignoring the slight lapses in their children’s behavior. There was a line to be crossed, however, and these children would often get whacked upside the head with their mother’s fan.
She might have looked back on those moments with more fondness had she not been one of the children to get teary-eyed in the pew as they rubbed their smarting heads. Those fans were harder then many suspected!
"And you’re in luck," added Pamela. "Lord Harold will be accompanying you," she said with a smile.
"Great! I'm over whelmed with joy at the very thought of it!" Sarcasm was one of Penelope's many accomplishments. Thankfully, Pamela could be very thick sometimes, and seemed to think she was really was excited.
"He must be some fine gentleman to have won you over so fast," Pamela said, still smiling. "I think that you should wear this lovely yellow dress today, dear. It will match the beautiful sun that has decided to grace us with its presence today."
Just when Penelope thought that Pamela couldn't be acting any happier, she began to whistle! It was as if she openly mocking her misery.
"Are you this happy everyday and I just didn’t notice until now, or did you hit your head against something this morning."
"For your information," said Pamela turning red again, "this happens to mine and Jamie's 25th anniversary today."
"Congratulations," said Penelope, rather flatly.
"Don't sound too excited all at once, dear, you might hurt yourself!"
"I'm happy for you Pamela, truly I am, but it's just that I'm not that excited about the thought of being married to anyone for twenty five years..." She said anyone, but what she truly meant was Lord Harold.
"Well for your sake, I hope you get over it," she said with a slightly annoyed look stretched across her face. "Get dressed quickly and come down stairs. You need to eat breakfast before departing to church. Lord Harold will meet you and your parents there." She closed the door behind her, leaving Penelope alone with her bright yellow dress. If there was a bigger contrast to her mood then this dress, she surely could not think of it.
She slipped it on in silence and walked out of her room, headed toward the kitchen. She had seen the lavishly decorated halls so many times, that she could have walked through them blind folded with ease.
Though there were many paintings adorning the walls, one in particular always drew Penelope's attention. It was a picture of a young married couple with there new born child, laughing in a field of dandelions. Ever since she was eight years old she was absolutely convinced that this was what her future family was going to be like. Now, however, that particular dream seemed to be fading as well.
Despite her first impression, Penelope liked to think that what her mother and everyone else said was true. That in time she would learn to love Lord Harold. Maybe when she was officially his wife, she would see him in an entirely different light... or maybe not.
Whatever the outcome, she knew that she could no longer dwell on the negative aspects of Lord Harold. She should at least try to start liking him. After all, that's what the mature thing to do would be.
She walked into the kitchen to find it deserted. She grabbed an apple and a bagel and sat down by the window in her usual spot. It was a beautiful day, just as Pamela had described it to be. She ate two bites of her bagel and a bight of an apple. She didn’t have much of an appetite...
She went in search of her mother, but when no one was to be found inside of doors, she promptly walked outside to see if her parents were already waiting at the carriage. Five minutes later, she was being carried back into the house in by none other then Derek Matthews.

~~~

A few moments earlier, as Penelope walked outside, the sun had been shining brightly in her eyes. She could just make out the outline of someone headed straight toward her, however, and she was so focused on finding out who it was, that she wasn't paying any attention to were she was walking.
There was a small hole in the ground, which Penelope soon discovered, was exactly the right size for her left foot. She felt something twist in her ankle creating a sharp searing pain, and fell face first to the ground. But as soon as she hand fallen someone was picking her right back up again. Whoever this mystery man was (she still could not see his face because of the sun's glare) he was quite strong and tall, and Penelope couldn't help but get the impression that he was handsome as well.
That was, until she heard his voice. "Penny, what have you done now?"
"Derek?" asked Penelope, still in shock.
"Of course it's me!" he said. And even though Penelope couldn't see his face she was sure that he had that same smug smile on his face. "Who'd you think it was? Prince Charming?"
Penelope hoped that he didn't see the dark blush quickly spreading across her face. He could infuriate her so much some times! "Well of course I didn't!" She realized he was still holding her. "And I can stand on my own, thank you!"
"Are you sure?" he said with a tad bit of worry in his voice. However, it was drowned out by his next comment. "Everywhere you go you seem to trip all over yourself."
"I do not, and I am fine!" she said. He gently let her down, but when she began to stand she found that she was quite wrong. She winced in pain, and soon fell back into his arms.
"Sure you're alright," he said mocking her. "You couldn't walk one step if your life depended on it. Now, is her majesty going to mind if someone actually helps her get inside."
"Oh please, Derek, I don't mind people helping me. Only you!"
"I suppose I could just leave you here..." Derek said mischievously.
"Oh, you wouldn't do that, now would you?"
"I might," he said smiling down at her, "unless..."
"Unless what?"
"Unless you say the magic words."
"Please, Derek, will you help me inside?" she even added her best grin, even though her voice was dripping with sarcasm.
"Not those magic words! The other ones."
"I'm very sure I don't know what you’re talking about."
"Oh yes you do!"
"Derek, we're not ten years old any more!" she said stubbornly.
"Well, if you just want to wait out here..."
"OK, fine! I'll say the stupid words!" she sighed and then grudgingly mumbled a long sentence in a very quiet voice.
"I'm sorry," Derek said when she was finished. "I can't quite hear you. Could you repeat that?"
"I said," Penelope announce, using a slightly louder voice. "Derek is the greatest and strongest ever, and he deserves a medal for always having to bail Penny out of trouble. There, are you satisfied now!"
"Why yes, thank you, I am." And with that he hoisted Penelope up into his arms and headed for the door.
"Ow! Could you just be a little more gentle?!" said Penelope as her head clipped the side of the door. Derek wasn’t having much luck getting her through the doorways. She wasn’t making it any easier for him with her constant fidgeting either. She felt more then a little uncomfortable with him carrying her in like he was.
"If you would stop squirming this would be a lot less difficult,” he snapped at her, “and besides, you weigh a lot more than you did when we were ten!"
"Are you calling me fat?"
"Of course not!" he said defensively.
"And besides," Penelope added. "I recall that you were struggling just as much back then as you are now.”
"I’m sorry; I don’t have much practice carrying around annoying girls.” He smirked at her. “And you should be thanking me, anyways. Maybe I knocked some sense into you."
"Very funny, Derek."
"I know I am."
"You are so full of yourself!"
"And you aren’t?"
"That’s funny because it seems to me that it only happens when I'm around you. I think you’re a bad influence on me, Mr. Mathews."
They finally came into the kitchen, and he sat her down in a chair. "I'll be right back," he called out to her, heading in the opposite direction.
"Just leave me here, all defenseless and alone!"
He turned back one last time before exiting and smiled at her. "You're a tough girl, I think you can sit in a chair by yourself for five minutes. Just try not to fall off while I’m gone." She glared wholes into his back.
A few minutes later Derek walked in holding two damp rags. He placed one on her head and with the other he knelt down and put it on her ankle. Penelope grasped the one on her head so it wouldn't fall and looked down at him. "Wow, Derek, I like the sight of you groveling at my feet."
Derek scoffed at her remark. "Well take a good look, because you won't be seeing it again."
"Why can't we seem to just have one decent conversation with each other?" she said looking down at him in bewilderment.
"Hey, I'm not the one that started it that time. You did."
"I did not!"
"You did too!"
"No I was simply making a statement, you're the one that was rude," she said in her defense.
"Oh, and calling me your slave isn't considered rude?" Derek protested.
Penelope would have had a witty remark to that as well, if Lord Harold wouldn’t have walked in right at that moment. She was even beginning to form the sentence when she caught sight of him and pushed Derek away from her with surprising force. "Oh... Lord Harold! Derek was just helping me get inside."
Apparently, he was unaffected by Derek's presence what so ever. "What happened?" He said rushing to her side. He nearly convinced her that he was genuinely concerned.
"Well I accidentally tripped… on a hole in the ground. I think I might have sprained my ankle."
"How awful! It must have been very scary for you," he said with what at least looked like a sympathetic gaze.
Behind them, Derek just rolled his eyes. “I’ll just be on my way,” he said, walking toward the door, but nobody seemed to have noticed his presence at all. Besides Penelope, that is. Her parents were now joined in the mix of things.
"Oh my poor baby, does it hurt to terribly much?" cried her mother.
"Oh no, it's not that bad. Actually Derek helped me in," she replied turning toward him.
Everyone else followed suit and looked in Derek’s direction. His back was turned and he was about two feet away from the doorway but he reluctantly turned around.
“It was, uh, nothing really,” he said to the expressionless faces looking at him. All except for Penelope’s, however, who was trying desperately not to burst out in laughter.
"Oh he did, now!" said Lord Harold standing up and walking toward him. "Here you go my boy. It's the least I can do for rescuing my dearest." He stuck out a few coins for Derek to take in payment.
"Oh, it was no trouble," he said glancing down at the money. "There's no need for any kind of reward." He was trying to subtly edge his way toward the door. It was obvious from his bright red face that he was not used to be thanked for an act of kindness, much less offered money for it. Even if the amount was barely enough to feed a family of mice.
"Suit yourself," said Lord Harold walking back over to Penelope. He was generous enough to offer up a reward once, but far from handing out money twice. With attention back on Penelope, Derek took the opportunity to escape.
Though Penelope insisted that she was strong enough to walk to her room, Lord Harold wanted her to be carried. However, he took one look up the tall flight of stairs and decided to not take her himself. Penelope could have sworn she heard him grumble something along the lines of "not as young as I once was." Unfortunately, there seemed to be only one person in the entire house that was young enough to carry her upstairs.
"Wow, I am so blessed to be able to tow you around twice in one day."
"Oh stop your complaining! This isn’t exactly my idea of fun either." Penelope was once again in Derek's arms, which seemed to be a reoccurring theme of late.
"Thank God, we're here," said Derek striding into Penelope's room. Much to Penelope’s relief, this time he avoided any head-on-door contact. "So, where do you want me to put you?"
"I'm not cargo, Derek. Just set me down here." Despite his previous attitude, Derek set her down with the upmost care headed toward the door.
"Thank you," said Penelope without a hint of sarcasm in her voice for once. She usually wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of real gratitude, but it just slipped out of her before she could stop herself.
Derek turned around to look back at her, surprise clearly written on his face.
"You’re welcome," he said, just as politely. For a moment they just looked at each other in total silence, until some one called Derek from downstairs. "I guess I should probably go," he said turning back around.
"Yes, I guess you should."
Over all, the rest of the day elapsed in relative peace. Isabel came to visit her for a while, but she had to get back to work before to long, just like everyone else did. Even Lord Harold came to visit her for a bit. He said that it was all right that she might not be able to dance at the up coming ball, for he probably wouldn't be attending it until later on in the night, and he wasn’t much of a dancer anyways. This made matters a lot simpler for Penelope. Now she would be free to dance with whomever she wanted and her mother would be less intent on finding out where she was if Lord Harold wasn't involved.
After he left, Penelope read until Pamala brought up her dinner. The onion soup was delicious and, surprisingly, filling and that along with her exhaustion from the day’s events helped her fall asleep fairly easily.
Her ankle still hurt, but her mother was going to call on the physician in the morning to check on her. Mostly, she was worried about the ball. How was she supposed to dance the night away, when her legged throbbed every time she moved it? She got in bed as best she could and slept as well as one could hope to with a hurt ankle.

[Monday]

Day 6

Because she went to bed so early the night before, Penelope was up at the crack of dawn the next morning. She felt fine, and her ankle no longer hurt, but she didn't stand on it, afraid that she might make her injury worse. Her bed was right next to the window, however, and she could see the morning sun lighting the land, and watched as the shadows slowly became smaller and smaller.
It appeared that she wasn't the only one that was up early that morning, however. She could see Derek, shirtless, by the stables and already at work. She was wondering what work he needed to do so early in the morning, without a shirt no less, when he turned around. She could have sworn that he saw her, but she closed her curtains swiftly and leaned back in bed. Whatever he was doing, she decided that he probably didn't expect to have an audience, or else he would have kept his shirt firmly in place.
Not to long afterwards, Pamela came in to help her dress, which turned out to be a kind of wrestling match. Penelope refused to stand up, fearing she might damage her ankle beyond repair for the ball, but this also made if very difficult to squeeze into her light blue petticoat. After about a half an hour though, Penelope looked presentable enough for the doctor, at least.
The physician appeared but her parents, however, did not. Her mother was busy with the servants, preparing for the ball, and her father was off entertaining Lord Harold, but at least Pamela was in the room with her. The doctor was a nice old man, and (much to Penelope's relief) didn't use any leeches on her. She had never really been very sick other then the occasional cold, but she had heard horror stories from some off the other servants about a few of the doctors more common practices.
He was very kind and gentle and after doing a very thorough examination of her foot, he concluded that it would be fine to walk on, and she shouldn't worry too much about dancing as long as she didn't stay on her feet the whole night. Penelope was overjoyed.
"Imagine," said Pamela later on, after the doctor had left, "If you would have to stay up in bed the whole night during the ball! I'm sure your mother wouldn’t have minded too much though. She wouldn't have to worry where you were and who you were with the whole evening."
That's when a brilliant idea struck Penelope. But first, she would need Pamela's full cooperation.
"Pamela," she said with a smile spreading across her face, "Have I ever told you how incredibly intelligent you are?"
Pamela cast a suspicious gaze on Penelope. "Are you sure you're alright, dearie? Should I call the doctor back?"
"Oh no," said Penelope, "but there is something that you could do for me."
"Here it comes." Pamela sat down on the bed beside her with a reproachful sigh. "What is it that you’ll be needing?"
"I know how much you disapprove of my parents making me marry the duke. Don't try to deny it," she added seeing Pamela's surprised look, "I'm not daft, I here the way you talk about him. He might as well be a mule to you."
"He is a bit of a jack-ass, I confess..." admitted Pamela, "and I think if your father met a donkey that had more money and power then Lord Harold, you'd be marrying it instead."
Penelope tried not to laugh at this, but went on with her explanation instead. "Right, so you would agree that I should have as much fun as I can while I'm still a free woman?"
The suspicious look that had faded from Pamela’s eyes returned in an instant. "Yes and your point is…?"
"Well, I was hoping that you would tell my mother that my ankle really is hurt, so that I might go to the ball unhindered by her watchful eyes."
"I don't know, dear," said Pamela a little apprehensively, "I don't think it'd be wise to lie to your mother, and let you go gallivanting about the ball unsupervised."
"Oh come on, Pamela," said Penelope, pleadingly, "since when do you have moral qualms about lying to my mother? Remember that time you told her that I had a fever so I wouldn't have to go to the knitting circle with her? Or the time you told her that you had gotten rid of that stray cat when you had really gone and given it milk?"
"Yes, but those times were entirely different. It wouldn't be just a little white lie in this case."
"As for leaving me unsupervised, I'll be in a ballroom with a hundred plus people. I won't exactly be alone. And besides, I'm going to turn nineteen in only a few days. I'm completely capable of taking care of myself. Please, Pamela, this is my last chance at one night of happiness."
"Oh all right!" said Pamela, finally consenting, "and remember, I'm doing this because I love you like a grandchild and I only want to see you happy. Even if it means lying to your terrible mother. Especially if it means lying to your terrible mother."
"Thank you so much, Pamela!" said Penelope, getting up and launching herself into Pamela's arms, "you won't regret this!"
"I sure hope not child," said Pamela, hugging her back, "and if you’re supposed to be injured, I think it would be unwise to jump at people like that again."
Her plan was quickly set into place. As soon as her mother found time to get away from her planning, she came up to visit Penelope. She was kind enough to give her a sympathetic pat on the arm when she heard the news, but besides that she didn't seem too torn up about it.
"Don't worry, Penelope, there will be plenty of other balls and dances for you in the future." She might have plenty of more balls to attend later on, but they would all be in the company of Lord Harold, and therefore would not hold half of the amusement.
When Isabel heard the news she rushed up stairs to see Penelope, nearly in tears. That is until she heard Penelope's plan.
"Wow," she said smiling, "I'm impressed. I'm usually the one with the sly plans."
"Well I did learn from the best, after all," Penelope said smugly.
Isabel promised to be back later, for them to finish the last touches on her dress. Until then, Penelope sat through the numerous servants and friends who came by to give their condolences. It seemed as if she was on her deathbed, instead of just a rest bed. But maybe many of them realized that this would be her last party before getting married.
When Isabel finally arrived, it was becoming dark outside, and they had to sew by candle light. No easy feet, if you are ever so unfortunate as to try it.
"What kept you?" asked Penelope, more out of curiosity then annoyance. Isabel's only response was a deep crimson blush creeping across her face. Isabel wasn't the type to blush, and that was enough to give her secret away to Penelope. "You were with him, weren't you?" she said smiling broadly.
Isabel looked up in dismay. "Was it that obvious?"
Isabel had been in love with the farm boy, Tom, from down the road since she was eight and he gave her an apple. Isabel was now nineteen, and Tom was nearly ten years older then her, but she loved him all the same. Isabel had wanted to marry him for the longest time, but he thought himself to be too old. However, Penelope had seen them together before and she knew that they were both completely in love.
"I think I finally convinced him that our age difference doesn’t matter," exclaimed Isabel in triumph, the pink on her cheek turning red with excitement. "He said he would talk to my father."
"That's great!" said Penelope, meaning it, "Don't forget to invite me to your wedding." It made her sad to think that she would never be so much in love and so sure of wanting to be with a person like Isabel was, but she redirected her feelings toward happiness for her friend, and making her dress absolutely perfect.
Penelope had sent Pamela out with some of her small allowance that she has saved up, and when she returned, she presented a mask and jewelry. Everything was ready for the following day, and as she bid Pamela and Isabel good night, she couldn't help but believe that the next day was finally going to be the night she had been looking forward to so intently the last few days.

[Monday]

Day 7

Penelope awoke once again early in the morning. She closed her eyes again, seeing that the sun had barely risen, and willed herself to go back to sleep for a couple more hours. She had barely gotten any sleep that night, she was so excited. Then again, she was also very nervous. It wasn't so much the chance of getting caught that made her anxious. No, the risk made it more of an adventure, and there for more exciting. She was mostly worried that she wouldn't have as much fun as she wanted. What if no one wanted to dance with her? What if her idea of looking gorgeous that night didn't work at all? Her dress did look splendid, but she might not look as great in it as she would hope.
These thoughts had been plaguing her all through the night, and now, despite herself, she lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling thinking over the exact same things.
She must have been laying there for a while, for Pamela soon joined her with a broad smile on her face. "Today's the day dearie. Are you excited?"
"Nervous is more like it," Penelope mumbled, giving her a smile.
"Don't worry, my dear. I know for a fact that you will look absolutely lovely," encouraged Pamala, somehow sensing her exact qualms.
Penelope hated it when people read her mind. Well, read her face more like it. She had been told more than once that the expressions on her face could be read like a book. Pamela was an expert at telling what was on her mind, and so was Isabel, and, unfortunately, even Derek could sometimes to. Luckily her parents were ignorant of this little trick. She imagined it was just because they didn't spend as much time around her... Not that she was complaining. The less then close relationship that she shared with her parents worked to her advantage in circumstances such as these.
Still, if she was supposed to be mysterious tonight, she was going to have to work hard not to show her emotions so easily. She hoped that the mask would help. It did cover most of her face, after all.
Pamela helped her get dressed, much more efficiently this time now that Penelope could stand on both feet. She arranged herself nicely and waited for her mother to come in and check on her.
Once she was away, and after Penelope had eaten breakfast, their plans were immediately set into motion. Isabel came in to help Penelope start to get ready, and Pamela would stand guard outside their door to keep a watch out for her mother.
The servants were not allowed to attend the ball as guests because they were needed as servers. If Isabel caught wind that someone was going to go visit her room during the ball, she would be there to warn Penelope immediately. If the situation was truly desperate, and the hallway was impassable, Pamela would create a distraction outside her room, giving her time to slip in through the window by climbing up the lattices on the wall. Luckily, Penelope had actually practiced this method of entering her room (secret meetings with Isabel, and midnight kitchen raids had made somewhat of an escape artist out of her), and was more concerned about the state of her dress when climbing then the possibility of falling to her death.
Penelope thanked them both immensely, but they waved her off, saying that it was the least they could do.
Fortunately, her mother seemed to pre-occupied with last minute arrangements for the ball to come to find time to make surprise visits to her daughter, so Penelope and Isabel were left to get ready in peace.
She first soaked in a nice long bath, and poured every good smelling thing she could find on herself. She scrubbed her hair until it shined and rinsed it with rose water.
When she was completely dried, they began to dress her. The dress fit nicely onto Penelope, and she wanted to immediately look in the mirror, but Isabel refused to let her do so until she was "perfect". Penelope was doubtful that such a thing existed, at least for her, but she decided to humor Isabel. She was helping her out a lot after all.
After making sure that everything was in its proper place, Isabel moved on to her hair. She put it in a neat and elegant bun on top of her head, leaving a few soft curly tendrils to float down onto her shoulder. Isabel then fastened the mask around Penelope's face and stood back to make one final assessment before she would allow Penelope to look into the mirror. Finally, a broad smile lit across her face.
"Perfect!" she couldn't help but exclaim as she turned Penelope to face the mirror.
Penelope gaped at herself in the mirror. This was as close to perfect as she could ever achieve. She looked absolutely stunning, and for a few seconds she wondered who this woman was, staring back at her.
The ruff ran directly under her collar bone, leaving her shoulders bare. This was more of a French touch to the dress but it suited her perfectly as the soft tendrils of her hair echoed against the milk white skin of her shoulders and made it shine. The sleeves belled out slightly and, along with the thin waist of the dress, gave her a very elegant look. The skirt flowed out from her legs, but avoided the extra fluff that was fashionable for the time. A small train flourished out at the bottom of the dress, adding even more elegance. The collar, the side, and the train of the dress were all a delicate pink, but the main body of the dress was an ivory white. Along the bottom of the dress were embroidered roses, colored a deeper pink than elsewhere on the dress, making it almost a red.
Her mask was a silvery white that created an accent with her rosy lips. Her green eyes shined brighter then she had every seen them in her life. In her hair, was a single red rose, and around her neck was a simple silver chain with a rose pendent hanging around it.
An idea struck her and she immediately went rummaging through one of her small boxes of treasures. Isabel watched with curiosity as Penelope pulled out a necklace to replace the one she had been wearing. Her adornment held an infinite amount of sentimentality to it, and basically made Penelope shine.
She couldn't imagine looking any better in her entire life, and was sure that this night was going to be magical, or at the very least, entertaining.
By the time she was done the ball had already started, but she had to wait a little while for the ballroom to fill up some. She wanted to slide into the room unnoticed and without having to introduce herself to her own mother. She had already decided that if someone asked her name, she would tell them Anna, her middle name. She hoped that she wouldn't have to lie very much though, she wasn't very good at it.
So, as Penelope waited patiently (or not so patiently) in her room, she watched elegant after elegant couple enter her home.
She had always been fascinated with watching people dancing, seeing the beautiful dresses swish across the floor. She had learned at a young age how to dance, and she was better at it then walking. In fact, dancing was the one thing that she could do without falling on her face.
She had asked Isabel every few moments what time it was, wanting to join the party immediately, but now as she made her way to the ball room, all she really wanted to do was go upstairs and hide under her blankets. This was by far the most exciting and nerve-racking thing she had ever done, and despite the plea from her brain to turn around and go back upstairs before it was to late, her heart kept her feet moving.
The next thing she knew, she was opening the doors to a different world.
Her ears were greeted by the beautiful sound of the orchestra playing, and her eyes to the dazzling color and light surrounding her.
She couldn't help but smile.
This is what she loved. Music, dancing, and laughing was all she needed to be happy. Even if Lord Harold wa- No, she told herself. Tonight was all about her, and she would not spare one more thought for her betrothed this evening.
As she glided to a spot near the dance floor, she couldn't help but notice a few heads turning in her direction. She smiled at herself, and wondered how long it would be before someone asked her to dance.
Not long, apparently.
The first man to approach her looked very self assured, and Penelope turned out to be entirely correct. He spent the majority of the time they were dancing on talk about his inheritance and how he was one of the most eligible bachelors in the county. Penelope smiled and nodded politely, but when the dance ended she went in search of a new partner. She didn't want to get the poor boy's hopes up.
And so it went. She danced with one person and after the tune had ended she found someone else to chat with. She was having a marvelous time, meeting so many lads who wished to rule her attention. More then a few were handsome and rich (though not as much as Lord Harold) and she wondered what she would do if there was any possible future with them.
Finally, she needed a break, and she sipped a glass of champagne while resting her feet and watching the other dancers. She was about to rejoin the other guests when she felt someone watching her.
A very tall man with dark brown hair was staring at her from across the room, and even with his mask on, she immediately realized that he was handsome. His gaze was locked on her as he walked across the room toward her, and though her heart raced, the possibility of looking away never crossed her mind. Her eyes were as glued onto his as his seemed to be on hers.
Before she knew it, he was right there, starring down at her. "May I have the next dance?"
Her voice caught in her throat at the sound of his smooth deep tone, but her hand shot into his without hesitation. He smiled dashingly at her as he led her to the dance floor. They joined in a fast pace gavotte, so they had little breath in them to speak to each other, so Penelope took her sweet time looking into his lovely hazel eyes.
She was looking so intently that bye the end of the dance she felt almost dizzy. Whether it was from the champagne or the intensity of his gaze, she could not tell.
"I could use some fresh air," she said to him, smiling naturally, "would you like to accompany me on the patio Mr. ...?"
"John," he replied, with a smile, "just John."
"Well, just John," she laughed, taking his arm, "I am just Anna. It's very nice to meet you."
When they walked outside the cool breeze seemed to ease her queasiness, but as she looked over her shoulder at her companion, she still felt in a daze. They were alone with the sounds of the night, sounds that she had fallen asleep to her whole life. She couldn't even imagine being upstairs in bed right now.
She moved to the railing around the patio and gazed at the reflection of the moon and stars on the lake surface. "It's so beautiful," she said turning toward John.
"Yes, it is," he replied, his gaze never wavering from hers. She wasn't sure how it happened, neither of them seemed to move, but all of a sudden they were both inches away from each other. Before she could think, before she really contemplated what was going on, he was kissing her and she was kissing him back. She didn’t know this man, but somehow it didn’t seem to matter. She didn’t know why but she knew that he wanted this just as much as she did. Even if it was with an almost total stranger.
His lips were sweet on hers, and he was kissing her like he knew her, and not like he had just met her ten minutes ago. She wasn't a nun, she had kissed boys before. But none of the boys from the village kissed like this.
He pulled away from her abruptly. "I hope you don't take me as the type of man who often lures innocent young ladies away from parties and kisses them in the dark." He was smiling.
"As long as you don't take me as the type of girl who would follow young men into the dark and let them kiss her."
And with that he returned to his job of thoroughly kissing her, and Penelope enjoyed a few blissful moments before Isabel came interrupting them.
"Uh... excuse me..." Penelope heard Isabel say nervously from behind her. She sighed and pulled back from John.
"Um... Isabel, this is my...um, friend, John," she said gesturing to the man beside her, "John, this is my good friend, Isabel."
"Nice to meet you," he said, not sounding very sincere. Isabel flashed him a knowing smile, and turned her attention back to Penelope.
"I'm sorry to interrupt,” she smiled again at this “but I think you should get back to your room pretty soon. I over heard your mother mention that your fia-..." she glanced over at John quickly, then back to Penelope, "...uh Lord Harold would arrive soon. And he might decide to pay you a visit."
Isabel tried her best to whisper all of this, but it was a quiet night and she knew that John had probably heard all of it. No matter, she would probably never see him again anyways. It was too bad; she would dearly miss his lips.
She turned back to John. He had a blank expression on his face. "I really regret saying this, believe me," she said her eyes dropping down to his mouth before looking back at his wonderfully blue-green eyes, "but I’m afraid that I have to be going. Thank you for the wonderful night, I had a very nice time."
And with that she turned around, before she was tempted to change her mind. She stopped anyways, and it wasn’t because of John’s amazing kissing skills. It was what he said to her.
"Wait..." she heard him say hesitantly from behind her, "is... is that you, Penny?" His voice sounded like a mix of stupefaction and horror.
Penelope stopped in her tracks. Her breath caught in her throat and the blood in her veins ran cold. No, it can't be... She turned around on her heal ignoring the fact that Isabel was tugging on her hand.
"D-Derek...?" How could it be him? The man she was with a few minutes ago was kind and polite, very much the opposite of the Derek she had known basically all her life.
But even as she thought this, she knew that it truly was him.
"Penelope, you have to go!" cried Isabel from behind her, pulling on her arm. Penelope let her lead her away, but she still starred back at Derek in disbelief, and he wore the same expression as she.

~~~

The next hour passed by Penelope in a shocked blur. She only remembered a few details. Isabel, led her up to her room, and quickly hid her mask, jewelry, and dress before her mother arrived with Lord Harold. She remembered Lord Harold trying to comfort her in her injured state and even kissing her on the cheek in farewell.
But now she was left alone with her thoughts.
She scratched the place on her cheek were Lord Harold’s beard had rubbed across it. She remembered it tickling and wondered if she would have to stop herself from laughing after every kiss from him.
Derek's kisses didn't want to make her laugh. Quite to the contrary, they made her want to pull him closer to her and never stop kissing him. She shuddered and tried to push the thought away, but none the less, she fell asleep thinking of his lips against hers.

[Monday]

Day 8

Penelope groggily sat up in bed, as she tried to remember the events of the night before. She remembered the dancing, and the few to many sips of champagne that she had an-
"Oh, no," she actually said out loud.
How could she have been so stupid? Out of all the men at the party she could have gone in a dark corner to kiss, why did she pick the one that could use it against her? He probably knew that it was her all along, she thought, and had purposefully tried to seduce her.
This was ridiculous, of course, and she knew it, but it made her feel better. She didn't want to think about the fact that she actually enjoyed it...
Now that really was ridiculous! She could barely stand being around him, much less enjoy dancing with him... and kissing him.
She obviously would have to avoid him, or else face his ceaseless taunting. She was fairly sure that if she avoided the stables she probably wouldn't run into him. He hardly ever came inside the house.
Now keeping him out of her thoughts, that would be a completely different problem all together...
Penelope glanced out the window, half expecting to see Derek there once again. She was surprised to find that he wasn't there, and even more surprised at how disappointed she was.
She really did need to stop thinking about him. I mean, he was just a good kisser, that's all.
Pamela came in to her room, smiling.
"So how was your little party last night, dear?"
Penelope blushed and looked away. "It was fun."
“Oh come off it!" said Pamela, smiling wickedly, "Isabel told me all about your fun time with that young man Derek."
Penelope looked at Pamela her eyes going wide with shock. "She did?!" She couldn't believe Isabel would do something like this. She might as well have told her mother or Lord Harold, even.
"Oh, don't fret dear; I always knew this would happen. It would take an idiot to not see that it was coming, the way you two were always flirting."
Penelope's frustration was quickly rising.
"We do not always flirt!"
"What ever you say," she said giving her a sly smile. She turned around suddenly as if struck by inspiration.
"Oh, do you know what you should do?” she said excitedly, “you two should elope! It would be terribly romantic!" Pamela said with a dreamy expression on her face.
"Elope? What are you talking about?" said Penelope confused, "I don't even know what he thinks about me. I don't even know what I think about him!
"Of course, dear," she said, but she still wore the same sly smile, "how silly of me to think other wise."
Penelope slunk quietly down the stairs toward the kitchen. She snuck a cautious glance around every corner before continuing on her way. She had to avoid Derek at all costs; she couldn’t bare it to face him.
She finally made her way to the kitchen to find the coast clear. Unfortunately, she was only able to sneak a freshly made scone before she heard someone approaching. She quietly ran to the door, not willing to take the risk of it being Derek that was coming. She ate her scone a little at a time as she snuck down corridors and hid amongst shadows.
She was nearly to her room, now. She was reaching for the door knob, sh-
"What do you think you're doing?"
Penelope practically jumped out of her skin, and she whirled around so fast she nearly got whip lash. "Oh, Isabel," she said relieved, "it's just you."
"Who you were you expecting," she said, scowling at her, "Lord Harold."
Worse, Penelope thought to herself, much, much worse.
Isabel's scowl turned into a canny smile in an instant. "Oh, I know who."
"I hate it when you read my mind..." sighed Penelope.
"I don't blame you; he is very handsome, and funny."
Penelope was about to agree, when she bit her tongue. Derek may be handsome, she wasn't above admitting it, but he most certainly was not funny. The only person that thought Derek was funny was himself. And Isabel, apparently.
"Wouldn't it be so romantic if you eloped together?!"
"Ok, people have really got to stop saying that!"
After leaving Isabel with much assurance that she was not, in fact, trying to avoid Derek, Penelope went and did the very thing she had just denied. She hid in the sanctuary of her room. She had all day to be alone. And, unfortunately, no other thing to preoccupy her thoughts then the increasingly annoying Derek.
She glanced out her window, almost in habit now, to see Derek once again at work, but this time with his shirt on. He had probably already forgotten their little night at the ball. It made her mad to think that he was absolutely fine while she was over here suffering. The whole matter probably didn't bother him in the least bit.
Then why did it bother her so...?
She tried to concentrate on something different. She picked up a book to read. It was a fairy tale that she had read many times and had never gotten bored of. But this time, when she pictured the handsome prince, Derek's face came to mind. She threw the book down as if it burned her hands.
She decided to pick up the needle work that her mother was always trying to get her to do. This was a sure sign of her desperation. However, when she saw the blue that made up the water of the river she was making, she couldn't help but wonder if it would be the same blue that was in Derek's eyes. She sat down the peace of cloth, her hands shaking.
What in the world was going on with her?
Penelope cautiously walked down the stairs headed for the lake. She remembered Derek carrying her up the very same stairs but a couple of days a go.
She shook the thought away. She had seen Derek go into the stables, and knew she would be alone at the lake. She wanted to go and sit under the willow tree that always comforted her, but it also reminded her of Derek. She remembered the time he woke her up, and she actually smiled.
This was so not right. She even remembered the first time she ever met Derek. She was really little, but it was such a vivid memory. She was five and he must have been eight or nine. He had just started working there as a stable boy. His mother had recently passed away, and his father wasn’t dealing with the grief well.
Derek smiled at her and she immediately wanted to be friends with him. That is, until the next day when she tripped and he laughed at her. She supposed that's what had started there endless bouts of arguing. Now that she looked back at all of their "fights" she found them comical and almost cute.
What was she saying? She got up and headed back to the house, trying to think of anything but Derek and his charming smile that she had once found so annoying. She almost wished that it did still annoy her.
She went straight upstairs without stopping and found a servant. She told him to bring water to her room for a bath without bothering to warm it.
Penelope dipped into the ice cold water and within seconds, she was shivering. A cold bath was exactly what she needed to clear her head. She was in the water for over half an hour before Pamela found her.
"What do you think your doing?" she said, pulling Penelope up and wrapping her in a towel, "You'll freeze you're arse off in there!"
"I h-honest-tly d-don't k-know what-t your-re t-talking about-t," said Penelope, her teeth chattering. She realized belatedly, however, that she was a bit blue around the edges.
Pamela told her to dry herself off, get dressed, and get into bed with her blankets over her at once. She stormed off, headed for the kitchen to bring up some warm chicken broth.
After getting dressed Penelope squeezed into bed, and almost immediately she began to get warmer. As she began to thaw out, unfortunately, so did her mind and the thoughts of Derek that she had drowned out with cold water and soap began to return again.
She ate the chicken broth and bread that Pamela provided her without deliberately thinking about it. She didn't notice how warm the chicken broth was as it slid down her throat. How it was spiced just right to bring out the flavor of the chicken and make it taste wonderful. She didn't realize that the bread was sweetened just enough and she didn't notice the fact that it was still warm. She must have subconsciously realized that she was hungry because her mouth still chewed, and her throat still swallowed. But she didn't actually think about this.
All she could think about was him. About how handsome his smile was when he flashed it her way. About his deep blue eyes that seemed as bottomless as the ocean itself. About his dark brown hair that was just long enough that she could have ran her fingers through it if she wanted too.
She remembered how he always had a way of making her laugh, even if she pretended to take offense to it. How gentle he could be, but how, at the same time he could be strong and determined.
She had relinquished all self control now, and thought of him freely. But she still didn't understand.
Pamela came and took the dishes away and wished her good night. She faintly remembered bidding farewell to Pamela, but she was still deep in thought as she tucked herself in to bed.
Why was she thinking about Derek so intently?
Penelope starred up at the moon light shining on her ceiling. What was wrong with her? She had always despised Derek, hadn't she?
But now that she thought about it, maybe she didn't dislike him as much as she thought. The man she met at the ball had certainly been charming and maybe Derek was like that all the time, but just different with her because they were just friends.
Friends...
She had thought of them as more of enemies before, but they were more than that. Now, she came to realize, she didn't want to be just friends. She had wanted to kiss John again ever since she had kissed him the first time. But now she wanted to kiss Derek. She didn't care that she was promised to another man. If Derek was there right now she would kiss him, and forget the consequences. But she didn't just want to kiss him. She wanted to be with him too.
He was one of the only people she new that was honest to her, and she missed having his opinion, however rude it might be sometimes. She smiled.
She abruptly sat up in bed and suddenly new exactly why she kept having all of these thoughts about Derek.
She was in love with him!

[Monday]

Day 9

Penelope once again snuck down the stairs, willing Derek to not come her way this morning. She thought at first that she would just try to avoid him for the remainder of her time here until she left with Lord Harold. But she soon realized that would be impossible. Sooner or later she would have to go riding, or people would become suspicious. She had been riding at least once a week since the age of four. Even her obnoxiously unobservant mother would notice her sudden loss of interest.
No, she would have to face him sometime or other, and she'd rather the meeting be on her terms.
She hastily ate her breakfast then returned upstairs. Not too surprisingly, as she glanced out of her window, she saw Derek working in the stable again. It was still pretty early in the morning, so it was unlikely that she would run into someone on her way there or that anybody would need a horse and therefore Derek.
She sighed deeply. She just had to get it over with. She willed her feet to walk to the door, and her stomach was in knots becoming even tighter as she made her way to the stables and Derek.
However, as Penelope drew closer, she saw that Derek was in a deep conversation with one of the stable boys. She used not wanting to interrupt them as an excuse, and quickly veered to the right and headed to a small glade were the swans tended to live. She watched the little cygnets as they swam around their mother, out of sight from the stables.
She caught a servant walking by and asked him to bring her some bread that she could feed to the mother swan and her babies. She basked in the growing warmth of the day as she happily distributed the bread. Not confronting Derek, she soon realized, was far more pleasant then trying too. However, the nagging feeling of duty soon began to tug at her and as the dew of the grass began to dry up, she knew that she would have to leave soon. The warm grass was so tempting, though, that she leaned back, fully intending to only rest her eyes for a bit. She was lying there hardly five minutes before she was full out snoozing.
Penelope woke up to see a goose nibbling at the hem of her dress. She wasn't to surprised that she had fallen asleep; her sleep had been restless the last couple of nights…
She looked around, and realized that it was already a little past noon. She was hungry, but she wanted to talk to Derek before going back inside. The longer she held this off, the harder it would be.
She headed back to the stables to see Derek virtually alone except for the same stable lad who was grooming one of the horses, and she could just tell the boy to let them speak privately. But this time, Derek saw her coming. He turned his back to her and began to casually (almost too casually, if you asked her) walk to one of the horses (mysteriously already saddled). Penelope started to quicken her pace. Oh no you don't, Derek, thought Penelope, you aren't going to sneak away from me.
But Derek ignored her silent command and quickly mounted the steed. Penelope was almost sprinting at this point. But it didn't matter. She saw him say something in the direction of the stable boy, and he was gone.
A few seconds later she was in the stables that he had just left.
"Where did he go?" she said, trying not to sound as annoyed as she felt.
But apparently she did, for the stable boy nearly jumped out of his socks. "He just went to take ol'e Andi out for a short trot, mum. He should be back before to long though." The boy hastily went back to his work, and Penelope stormed back to the house. Somehow she figured that he wouldn't be back for quite sometime. He might not have tried to miss her the first time, but he was definitely avoiding her now.
In the mean time, she would eat her nervousness away with a bit of Pamela’s great cooking. She had a knack for healing people’s hearts.
Penelope had a very nice, hour long lunch, and she felt much better as she returned outside. She was still annoyed at Derek for evading her, but could she really blame him? She was doing the exact same thing just the day before.
She walked back to the stables for what seemed like the millionth time that day, to find that Derek had not yet returned. She wasn't very surprised. In fact, she had anticipated this, and brought a book to pass the time with. She curled up in a spot where she could see the stables clearly, but nobody in them would be able to see her.
Time passed faster in the pages of her book, and at about sunset she could just make out the figure of Derek returning, leading in the apparently tired Andi. She waited a few minutes before deciding to go meet him, but before she even stood up, Derek was moving towards her.
He walked around the hill she was hiding behind, however, and headed for the lake.
She got up and tried to catch up with him, but she had to walk fairly fast; Derek had very long strides. She was about thirty feet away from him when she realized that he had no shirt on, but just his breeches. She was momentarily stunned by the shock of his wonderfully muscled back in the fading light of the sun, but she quickly recovered.
"Derek!" she hollered out to him, stronger voiced then the squeak she thought would come out.
She knew that he had heard her because he jumped a bit at the sound of her voice, but he pretended that he hadn’t and dove right into the water that was to the left of him.
"If you think that a little water is going to stop me, then you've got another thing coming!" And with that she started to wade into the water and was thigh deep when Derek resurfaced about ten feet in front of her. The water came up to the middle of his chest, and they both new that would be way over her head.
"What are you doing, Penny?" Derek asked quietly. Her heart fluttered just at the sound of his voice, but she kept the stern annoyed look on her face. She wanted to get through this with as much dignity as possible. She wished that she could see his expression, though, but the sun was right behind him.
"Well I've been trying to talk to you all day long!" she said, indignantly.
"I know that, what I was wondering was why?"
In that moment, her heart started to break as she had already expected it would today. She was just surprised that he didn't even see any point in at least talking to her. She thought they could still be friends, but apparently not. Despite this, she still had the strength to turn her ever growing sadness into anger instead.
"Look, I know you were embarrassed about the other night at the ball, but you don't have to be so rude about it all!” She said to him, nearly shouting, “You could at least have the decency to talk to me if you don’t…" She stopped at that, not wanting to give away more then was entirely necessary.
He walked a bit closer to where she was before responding simply, "What?"
Penelope heaved a sigh of frustration. She new perfectly well that he was close enough to hear every word that she said. "I get how wonderful you are, you bastard," she said through gritted teeth, "but you don't have to shove it in my face."
Derek was still moving closer. "What are you saying, Penny?"
"How thick headed can you be!" she said getting angrier and angrier by the second. She saw him start to smile, but this only flared her temper even more. "What the hell do you want from me, Derek," she said, jabbing a finger into his chest. He seemed not to notice, however, and she had to fight the urge to rest her hand on his strong chest, even though she was furious with him at the moment. He was making this so difficult for her. "Do you want me to say it?! Fine I'll say it, I love yo-" but she didn't get any further then that. Before she realized what was going on, he had taken her in his arms and started kissing her even better then the other night. Her mind struggled to understand as Derek peppered her with kisses. Finally, her brain caught up with her mouth, and she could barely kiss him for want of smiling and laughing.
Penelope returned to the house a little bit later, sopping wet but smiling ear to ear. Pamela was waiting for her in her room.
"Goodness gracious!" said Pamela in her motherly worried tone after looking Penelope once over, "Where have you been?!"
"Oh, I just went for a little dip in the lake," responded Penelope, still smiling, "that's all."
"At this time of night? You'll catch cold surely!"
"Actually, Pamela, the water was quite warm, if I do say so myself," she said, giggling now.
Pamela's expression of worry changed to one of disapproval. "What exactly were you doing?" she asked, seriously, "Wait. Never mind, I don't want to know. Just promise me you'll be safe and I'll be happy."
Penelope couldn't think of any place she felt safer then in Derek's arms.

~~~

They had remained knee deep in the water for a while, just kissing, before Derek finally broke away.
"They'll be missing you if you don't return home soon."
Penelope was half tempted to tell him to let them miss her, but she knew that would be a foolish mistake.
"Well missing me is a bit of a stretch, but my mother would probably notice my absence eventually." She sighed deeply, leaning in to his strong and comforting arms. She felt him kiss the top of her head, and she looked up at him. Heat spread through her whole body as he leaned over and lightly kissed her forehead then just above her top lip, teasing her. He came back for a third, though, and sweetly and softly kissed her in the fading twilight.
"Come on," he said taking her by the hand, "I'll help you get to the bank."
“I have a question for you,” she said as he took her hand.
“Shoot.”
“You love me, right?”
He looked at her seriously before responding, “I love you.”
Penelope blushed at the sound of his words, and continued on with her questions. “Then why were you avoiding me today? And don’t try to deny it,” she said with a smile, seeing the sheepish look across his face, “I know you well enough to realize when you’re dodging someone.”
He smiled, “There’s no way I’m getting around this, am I?” She shook her head at him, triumphantly. “You’re going to laugh.”
“Probably,” she said grinning already. When she saw the playful reproach on his face, she laughed as well, and compromised that she would do her very best to not laugh, though he should know how much she loved it.
This was acceptable enough for him, so he replied, “I didn’t want to speak to you, because I thought that you would demand an apology for my behavior the other night.”
Penelope thought for a moment before responding. “Even if I did, what would be so terrible about that?” she said smiling.
“That night, up until today, was the best of my life, and it would be impossible for me to apologize for it. I would never take it back, not in a million years.”
She looked up at him, and when she saw the seriousness on his face, she could barely contain the feelings barely held inside her. She was leaning up to kiss him, and though she tried to be careful, her skirts weighed her legs down and the floor of the lake was very slippery. She began to slip and Derek tried to help her, but he lost his footing on the silt bottom as well and they both went tumbling into the water. Penelope resurfaced to the sound of Derek's laughing.
"It's not funny!" said Penelope indignantly, but still smiling despite herself.
"You look like a wet poodle," said Derek trying to stop laughing, though very ineffectively.
"Yes, but a very cute wet poodle," Penelope was laughing now too.
The water was shallow enough at this point for Penelope to use her arms to prop her up. Derek smiled down at her as his arms were on either side of her.
"I was trying to kiss you”, she said smiling. “You know I have balancing problems.”
“Mmm. Well there’s not much room for error now,” he said smiling wickedly, “Maybe we should try and make amends.” He leaned down and kissed her, long and passionate.
"We’ll have to continue this conversation somewhere else, I think, Penny," he said whispering in her ear, "Meet me in the woods tomorrow at sunrise."

"I promise." No, she definitely both trusted and loved Derek greatly. Penelope smiled up at Pamela.

[Monday]

Day 10

Penelope awoke, just as she had promised, and hastily got dressed. She was both nervous and excited about going to meet Derek. What was he going to do? Profess his undying love? Kiss her till her lips turned blue?
Hopefully both, she thought to herself.
What she was most worried about was that he would break off their little affair. He could easily say it was fun while it lasted but she wasn't worth getting shot for by her fiancé.
She walked quietly through the house. There was no one around; the servants didn't start waking until a little after sunrise. She walked through the grounds as quickly as she could in semi-darkness, and walked onto the path Derek and her had played together on before, as children. The sun broke across the ridge and sunlight spilled onto the pathway, revealing Derek a few feet away from her.
After greeting each other thoroughly (no words were spoken), Derek went straight to business. She wished he would have just kissed her more, but if he was going to end it all now (which was very possible) she wanted him to do it soon rather then to keep leading her on like this.
"Penny," Derek said, seriously. Chills went down her spine. She had never heard her name spoken that way. With such passion and caring. She didn't know how he did it, but she liked it and didn’t want him to stop any time soon. "Do you love me?"
"With all my heart," Penelope said without hesitation. She studied his deep blue eyes wondering what he was thinking.
He smiled and puts his arms around her waste. "I think I've always loved you, it just took that stupid ball to make me realize it."
Penelope smiled knowing exactly what he meant.
"After you left with Isabel that night and I realized that I wished you would come back, I knew that I loved you. I didn't want to dance, talk or be near anyone else. All I wanted was you."
Penelope smile widened. So far so good.
"But after that night, I half hoped that you didn't love me back. Maybe then only one of us would suffer. I kept thinking about Lord Harold, and how I would never be able to be with you. I can't stand the idea of you with anybody but me, Penny. The very thought makes me mad even now when I have you here in my arms."
He looked down at her, serious again.
"I hate to ask this of you, Penny, but I see no other way.”
Penelope braced herself for what she knew would break her heart.
“I want you for myself, Penny. Run away with me, make me your husband, and I will love you, heart and soul, till the end of time."
Penelope's heart burst with joy.
After reassuring Derek that she wanted nothing more than to run away with him, they spent the rest of the morning planning their escape. Today, Penelope would pack only the bare essentials; some traveling clothes, a cloak, a brush, an extra pair of shoes, and her favorite book. Besides that all she would take was a bit of food and money, but that was it. In the early hours of the next morning, Penelope would meet Derek at the stables, and they would take a horse for Derek and Buttercup for Penelope.
Oddly enough, Penelope wasn't scared at all. She was quite sure that, as long as she was with Derek, she would be safe. She was excited about going off, just the two of them. She had never really had a real adventure before, and she was looking forward to finally be in control of her own life. She regretted leaving Isabel behind, but she would have had to leave her anyway when she married Lord Harold, and she was confident that she would be able to return to her childhood home someday. She would even risk going incognito if it would allow her to see Isabel's wedding.
So, after she left Derek, she went in search of Isabel. She was comparatively sure that Isabel would understand and be happy for her, but she didn't get quite the reaction she had hoped for.
"You're doing what?" said Isabel, staring at her wide-eyed.
"We're in love! What do you expect us to do? Go about our lives as if nothing happened?"
"Since when have you two been in love?" said Isabel, still incredulous.
"Well," said Penelope, blushing a bit, "Since last night, actually. You're the one that said we should elope!" said Penelope at Isabel's sigh of exasperation.
"Yes, but I didn't think you'd actually do it!"
They just stared at each other, both frustrated and confused.
"Penelope, I don't mean to sound pessimistic, but the real world is a lot different from the life you have at this manner. It's tough, mean, and not so easy to get by in as your books often make it out to seem."
"Derek will be with me!" said Penelope, indignantly, "He knows what it's like in the ‘real world’, whatever that is."
"Where are you even going? Do you even have that figured out?"
"It doesn't matter!" Penelope cried, trying not to loose her patience, "Where ever he goes, I will follow. I am more then compelled, my heart will allow me no choice in the matter. Can't you at least understand that?"
Penelope looked into her eyes, willing her to grasp what she was trying to explain to her.
"You are so hard-headed,” said Isabel with a half-hearted smile. “I'm sorry, I'm just worried about you, I suppose.”
Penelope smiled and hugged her friend. "I'll be fine. We'll be fine, I promise."
"I know. But do use that good sense I know is hiding in there somewhere.” Isabel smiled, “I’ll allow you to go, but on one condition.”
"Name it," said Penelope still smiling.
"You have too promise that you'll be at my wedding, whenever I finally do get married."
"I wouldn't miss it for the world."
Arm in arm they went back to Penelope's room, to discreetly pack. Penelope still thought that Isabel didn't understand fully, but knew that she respected and trusted her decision, at least. She had always been the more sensible of the two of them.
"At least now you don't have to marry that old fart, thank heavens!" Isabel laughed. "You're going to break his little heart, Penelope," she said jokingly.
Penelope smiled at this. "I doubt that very seriously. The only one that will be heart broken will be my father, and only because he won't be the father-in-law of one of the most rich and powerful Dukes in England anymore."
"Yes, but now he'll be father-in-law the best horse breeder in all of Edinburgh! Obviously the superior choice. "
"I wonder what would have happened if I wasn't supposed to marry Lord Harold at all," pondered Penelope. The thought had just occurred to her, but she wondered if her parents would have let her marry Derek if she wasn't engaged to somebody else.
She said this to Isabel, but she had a different idea. "Well you might not have fallen in love with Derek anyway. You probably would have traveled to town to come out for your first season a few years ago, and would have fallen for some other handsome young man. But since you were promised to Lord Harold..."
"... my parents saw no point in making me go to London. I probably could've gone if I had asked, but I didn't want to," said Penelope, honestly, "I thought it would be too depressing seeing all the young men I would never even have the opportunity to get to know.”
"It's weird, but I guess I was lucky that I was supposed to marry Lord Harold. I would have never noticed Derek if it wasn't for him."
Isabel laughed. "Don't give him too much credit; it was my idea for you to go the ball after all!"
Penelope stuffed the last item on her mental list of supplies into a bag, and headed for her wardrobe. "And for that I thank you dearly." She reached into the wardrobe and pulled out her dress from the ball the other night. She would miss this most out of all her possessions, but it was to be left behind.
“I’ll make sure no harm comes to it,” said Isabel, reading her mind as usual.
“Thank you,” she said still starring at it, “I’ll be coming back for it someday.”
Isabel and she parted, but Penelope had a few more things to take care of before she so unceremoniously departed. She wanted to have a little chat with her father first.
Penelope had never really spent much time with him through out her life. She got the impression that neither one of her parents cared much for children, and the only reason they decided to have her was on the hopes of someday proving some use. They were right. She was the sole reason that their so-called fortune and lifestyle would remain intact.
She couldn’t help but wonder how her father had maintained such a wealthy match, however. She may have a few amiable qualities which the typical gentleman sought: accomplishments like music and penmanship, and a family with a long history of wealth and importance. But still, she was not such a catch as to win the most eligible bachelors (though Lord Harold hardly qualified, in Penelope’s opinion).
She knocked on the door to her fathers study, and when she heard a mumbled ‘enter’ she came in and sat in front of the desk he was writing at.
He looked up from his fast scrawling, and was obviously surprised to see his daughter before him. He brushed this off quite easily, however, and continued with whatever business was before him.
“What is it that you need, dearest?” he said without even trying to sound interested.
Penelope smirked. If anything, at least her father was consistent in his behavior. “I just wanted to talk, that’s all.”
He gave some sort of half sigh, realizing that his attention would be required, sat down his pen, and prepared himself for whatever simple question his daughter had prepared for him.
“Make haste, darling, there is still very much to take care of before your wedding,”
“That’s funny,” said Penelope with no inclination to laugh or even smile at the particular moment, “I was just wanting to ask you something about my marriage.”
“What has become unclear to you?” he asked, ready to make plain any misunderstanding. What was actually asked, took him by surprise, however.
“Well I was just wondering how you were able to-” said Penelope wondering quite how to word her question, “that is to say, how did you procure a marriage between myself and Lord Harold?”
“What exactly do you mean?” replied her father, not quite catching her drift. To be honest he was expecting something about the color of the flowers or the kind of cake there was to be at the wedding. Not a question about the actual groom.
“We are not exactly the most notable family in all of England, and are most definitely not the wealthiest. There must be some reason for such a strange match.”
He smiled at this. His daughter was cleverer then he had given her credit for. “And what makes you think that your father isn’t just an excellent bargainer?”
“Come father,” said Penelope almost laughing, “no one but God can produce a miracle. And what else would you call this when a wealthy man bestows his fortune on a poor and mostly unimportant family without any sort of affection.”
Possibly to quick, he reconciled. He pondered on the situation for a few minutes before finally deciding that the truth would do no harm.
“I’ll have you know that it was no miracle. More like luck actually. Several years back, when you were still very young, I had been visiting London, when I ran into a man in an embarrassing and damaging predicament. Lord Harold, or just Mr. Crenshaw at the time, had not yet gained his title and fortune from his benefactor. He had gotten a woman with child and had no way of doing right by her without loosing his entire fortune. His great aunt, better known as his singular beneficiary, was very particular about who was brought into the family and how, and he knew a disgraceful marriage forced by a mistaken pregnancy would only bring shame to the family and therefore loose him his wealth.
“Not knowing were else to turn, Mr. Crenshaw made his terrible secret known to an old acquaintance of the family’s, myself. I agreed to subtly take care of the matter for him, if he agreed to marry my daughter at the soonest possible time. His benefactor died a few years ago, leaving him the soul possessor of her fortunes and the freedom to marry who he wishes. In this case it happens to be you.”
With that he continued on with his work as if hardly anything was spoken. Penelope was thankful that she had been sitting down when she heard this new information. She felt sick. To think she could have ended up married to such a terrible person without even knowing what he was.
She was grateful for Derek’s love now more then ever in light of this new horrifying confidence.
“What ever became of the woman?” she asked through numb lips. She couldn’t bear to imagine the possibilities that ‘take care of the matter’ entailed.
“I found a suitable man to marry her, and paid him enough money to except a wife bearing someone else’s child,” he said matter-of-factly. “I believe she’s somewhere in Devonshire living quite well, if not happily.”
Penelope gave an audible sigh of relief. She really did hope that the poor woman was being taken care of.
She got up and walked to the door, before adding one last question. “If the matter was so easily decided, why bother to let me get to know him before you married me off?”
“You don’t think your parents so utterly heartless, do you?” he asked not even looking up from the papers he has so quickly returned too.”
She grimaced, “How could I think that?”
Penelope tried to push the startling information about her former fiancé out of her mind as she made her way back to her room. As far as she was concerned, Derek was the only man she was promised to now.
She sat down and within five minutes had wrote her brief explanation to her parents about were she was. She didn’t want to cause them pain no matter how small she thought there affection was for her.



Mother and Father,

I realize that this will not be of much comfort to you now, but I would like to let you know that I am happy, safe, and very far away by now. I am loved by someone that I love in return, and that should be enough for the both of you. Until we meet again.

Best Wishes,
Penelope

She sealed the letter with surprisingly calm hands, before delivering to someone she knew she could depend upon.
"Will you give this too my mother?" asked Penelope, handing Isabel the letter, "It explains why I'm leaving. I hope they'll forgive me someday."
Isabel’s composure was not so easily mastered, and she took the letter with shaking hands.
"I didn't expect to have to say goodbye so soon." Isabel was not one to cry often, but she saw a tear or two make its way down her cheek. If Isabel started crying, Penelope knew she wouldn’t be far behind.
"This isn't for forever! I know I'll see you again someday, I'm sure of it!"
Isabel nodded. "I hope you're right." Penelope reached over and hugged her tightly.
"Promise you'll write," cried Isabel.
"Every chance I get." Penelope tasted the salt of her own tears on her lips.
"Don't let Derek push you around," said Isabel, returning back to her motherly self, "everyone knows that it's the wife that makes the decisions." Penelope laughed.
"Tell Pamela that I'm sorry for not telling her that we were running away, but I didn't want to take any risk in somebody else finding out. You know how hard it is for to keep a secret."
"I'll tell her," promised Isabel. "You should go to sleep now. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow." They embraced one last time before Isabel walked to the door.
"You're the best friend I could ever have, Isabel. Thanks for everything."
Isabel just smiled sadly and shut the door behind her.

[Monday]

Day 11

Penelope woke every hour or so to see what time it was. She kept thinking that she would sleep to late and Derek would leave without her. But she knew that wouldn't happen. Derek would never leave her.
Regardless of her fears, she woke up at four in the morning right on schedule. She quickly got dressed, put on her shoes, and grabbed her bag of supplies. She practically ran out of the house she was so jittery. She knew she wouldn't be able to calm her nerves until she was with Derek.
Her golden locks shimmered in the pale moonlight. Out of caution, or maybe paranoia, she flipped the hood of her cloak over her head.
She began to feel a little more at ease as she made her way to the stables. She still imagined her parents or Lord Harold jumping from around a corner and yelling Gotcha! , but as she saw the dim glow from the stables just over the hill, her anxiety lessoned.
When she walked in, however, she immediately knew something was wrong.
Derek was sitting not to far from the doors, but stood up abruptly as Penelope entered. She saw that he hadn't saddled the horses yet, and she didn't see any bags near by him, but what really gave it all away was the look on Derek's face. The look of sadness that just tore her to peaces.
"We're not going,.. are we?" she said, in little more than a whisper. He said nothing, only starred at her with regret in his eyes, his beautiful clear blue eyes. His silence confirmed her worst fears.
Her temper flared, and she dropped her bag. "How dare you," she said, her voice trembling with emotion. "How dare you do this to me?" She saw the pain and desperation in his eyes, but she didn't care.
"You said that you loved me!" She walked up to him, and pushed against his chest as hard as she could, but he didn't even budge, and that just made her even angrier.
"How can you say such things to me, and then take it all back the next moment," she said fishing for some way to hurt him as much as he was hurting her. He just continued to stare her with that same painful expression.
"Is it some sick game of yours? To twist a poor woman’s heart around? You lying sadistic bastard!" She finally struck a nerve, and she almost smiled in triumph.
He grabbed her by the shoulders, and even shook her a bit. "I know," he almost shouted back at her. "I'm already drowning in misery, you don't have to pull me down deeper." He released her and stalked away, kicking a bucket as he went. He was barely containing his temper.
But she wasn't through with him yet and the anger was still boiling in her veins. "You're miserable?! I'm the one who was just told that she was never really loved!" Though she tried to keep the overwhelming sadness from words, her voice cracked near the end of her statement.
"I never said I didn't love you, damn it!" he snapped back, equally as angry, if not more.
"So... you still love me?" she whispered a glimmer of hope flickering in her heart.
"I couldn't stop loving you, even if I wanted too," he said more calmly this time, turning back toward her.
"Then I don't understand," said Penelope confused, "why can't we leave this place, together, if we're both in love?"
"Because sometimes love isn't enough," he said looking at her, almost through her.
"Love is enough for me," she replied stubbornly. Derek sighed.
"Penny, all of yesterday I thought about you. I want you to always be happy and safe."
"I will be, if I'm with you."
"Just think about it, Penny. You probably packed enough food for a couple of days, but then what will we eat? I only have enough money to feed and shelter us for a week or two, tops."
"Well then I'll go get some more money," she said already headed for the door, "Pamala could give me a loan."
Derek caught her hand though and pulled her back to him. "It doesn't matter how much money you have, it can't provide for us forever. I have no land or money to my name what-so-ever."
"Well then you could get a job some where and save up to buy some land for us to live on," suggested Penelope, determined to solve this problem.
"That could take months, maybe years, and mean while, where will we live? In the squalor of some city, or paying rent to a greedy land lord? I won’t have you live in that kind of degradation and danger."
She scowled at this. "What about America? I've heard that the land is cheap and the jobs plentiful there," she pleaded, getting desperate now. She shuddered at the thought of making the dangerous trip to the unfamiliar and distant land.
"Would you really want to be that far away from everyone and everything you've ever known and loved?" he asked her honestly, and she knew he was right. They couldn't go to America. Then she would be sure to never see Isabel again.
"Believe me," Derek said, scornfully, "I've thought of every possible way, and none of them would be safe or practical."
She leaned in against him, letting the tears she had been holding back free. "I can't do it, Derek," she cried in anguish, "I can't marry a man I don't love! It's not right, it's not fair!"
He took her in his arms and sat down in a nice warm spot of the barn and stroked her hair as she cried into his shoulder.
"Don't cry, my love, my only," he whispered as he cradled her in his arms. The sound of his sweet voice coupled with the knowledge of loosing him was enough to make her cry even harder.
She fell into a restless half-sleep crying in Derek's arms, and faintly remembered him carrying her back inside a little while later. He placed her gently in her bed, and she heard him whisper in her ear as she slipped into unconsciousness. "If it takes the rest of my life, I'll find a way to take you back, Penny. I'll have you or no one."
Penelope woke in a confused haze a couple of hours later. Her limbs felt like lead, her head was pounding, and she was emotionally exhausted. Lack of sleep and a range of varying emotions in too short of a time period was taking its toll on her. She remembered the events of that morning with cruel accuracy. She wanted to be mad at Derek; blame everything on him, but she couldn’t. Indeed, his insistence on keeping her safe as his number one priority made her love him even more, damn him.
She knew that it was about six or seven in the morning and that people would be waking soon. She needed to find Isabel first and tell her that she wasn't, in fact, gone at all. She wondered curiously how her mother would react when she read the letter and found that her daughter was still here after all. No, no good would come from it.
She hastily headed down to Isabel's quarters. Isabel was just walking out the door with the afore mentioned note in hand when Penelope caught her by the arm and pushed them both back into Isabel's room.
Isabel was plainly shocked to see her, but also happy. Penelope thought about how happy she should be to see her friend again, but there was still a gaping void Derek had left behind that even her best friend couldn’t completely fill. She relayed the morning’s events back to her friend as best she could through tears.
"What can I do, Isabel?" she asked her friend, desperate for an answer that would lead her back to Derek.
Isabel looked about as helpless as Penelope felt, though. "I don't know, honey. I just don't know."
Penelope only remained a little bit longer, time enough to destroy the letter intended for her mother. She returned to her room to unpack the few belongings that she had intended to take with her on her journey with Derek. He must have carried them to her room when he had taken her up.
She couldn’t help but imagine where Derek and her would be at the moment had their original plans worked out. She thought of how beautiful she would be despite her drab clothing, standing next to Derek in some rural church, and she fought back tears. She refused to cry anymore. She unpacked without further incident, all the while coming up with a plan. It was full-proof, though not completely satisfying, but she headed to where she knew she would find Derek.
When she entered the stables Penelope saw Derek grooming one of the horses. He didn’t look as if he had fully recovered from the morning’s events, either, and she could see the deep circles under his eyes left from a sleepless night. However, chills still went down her spine despite his ragged appearance, as she headed toward him. The effect he had would never be lost on her.
Derek’s back was turned to her, but he whirled around at the sound of her walking, no doubt familiar to him after all these years. He started to speak but was only able to get out "Pen-" before her lips were on his.
Kissing him was like plunging into an ice cold depth where she didn't want to come up for air. He finally pulled her back and looked down at her in confusion.
"What are you doing?"
"What does it look like I'm doing?" she said scowling, "I'm not married yet, you idiot."
He dropped what he was carrying and wrapped his arms around her almost instantaneously. She was glad he didn’t need much convincing. Every moment she spent out of his arms was a moment of pain.
He kissed her as if he was a man dying of a thirst that only she could quench and she was putty in his hands.
He jerked away from her so suddenly that Penelope almost jumped in surprise. She watched him back away from her, and just when she was about to protest, in walked the stable boy. He hadn’t seen the two of them together, and luckily also didn't notice how pale Penelope had just gone.
She silently thanked the heavens for Derek's keen hearing. The stable boy nodded in her direction politely and went to his work.
She leaned over as if to help Derek pick up some grain for the horses. "Meet me in the library tomorrow late at night," she whispered in his ear. “I want to be alone with you for more then a few brief moments.” There were many popular places to go in the manor were she lived, but their library was not one of them. She turned and walked away before the boy could become suspicious.
Penelope's heart was being wrenched open once again. Being with Derek was only a temporary bliss. A safe haven from the storm of her despair. No matter the pain she felt in leaving him, however, just being with Derek kept her going. She would see him the next night, and again her heart would shatter, and maybe, if she was lucky, she would be with Derek one last day before she was forever bound to another man.
It seemed surreal that she would be marrying in three more days, but the idea no longer upset her. She had some how entered a melancholy state filled with nearly unbearable sadness but, at the same time, acceptance.
She hated to think of herself as giving up; she had always been extremely stubborn. But her heart had been broken one to many times in the last week and she was surprised to even find it still beating. All that mattered now was her last few days with Derek.
Penelope curled up in bed. She couldn’t remember what had occupied her time after she left Derek, but she didn’t care to remember either. She fell asleep rather quickly, and for the first time in a long time, she accepted defeat.

[Monday]

Day 12

Penelope was enjoying a blissful dream when she was dragged back to reality by Pamela's obnoxious voice. She subconsciously knew that Pamela wasn’t being rude, but she was always a little grumpy when first awoken, and this affect was only heightened when leaving a particularly good dream.
She didn't even remember what it was about. All she knew was that she had been calm and happy. In fact, it had been one of the best night’s sleep Penelope had gotten in a while. She practiced self control, and didn't snap at Pamela despite her immense urge too.
Pamela's chirpy voice was already filling the room, as she walked over to the drapes and thrust them open, as she did almost every morning. Penelope saw the stables through the glass and didn't know whether to smile or burst out in tears. She remembered, however, her vow from the night before. She could only move forward from here, and crying would most definitely be a step backwards.
She would have smiled, maybe even laughed at the thought of some of the events that had happened in those stables, until she heard Pamela's next sentence.
"And of course it's Sunday today, and Lord Harold would like to go with you and your family to church," Pamela laughed, "if you don't break your ankle again, that is."
Penelope wished she could break her ankle. At least then Derek would have to carry her upstairs again...
She hadn't seen Lord Harold in a few days, and now the idea terrified her. She was expected to be kind to him and even show affection toward him, but she couldn’t imagine going through with it. How could she? She absolutely detested the man and now not just because she was being forced into marrying him. On top of that, she felt like she was betraying Derek, with every thought she even spared for her retched fiancé.
"We could have run away together," she mumbled to herself, "but no. You had to go all noble on me."
"Come again, dear?" Pamela asked as she tidied up the room.
"I said today should be a lot of fun," Penelope lied. She didn't know what else to think of, but despite her poor lying skills, Pamela noticed not a thing. Today truly was going to be a lot of fun. At least the part of it she spent with Derek…
They were ready and out the door within an hour, Lord Harold leading her by arm. He was probably smiling at her, but it was hard for Penelope to tell, his mustache obscured his face so much. She thought about him trying to kiss her, and almost gagged.
They walked outside and met gloomy gray clouds overhead. They seemed to reflect Penelope's increasingly uncomfortable mood.
She saw the family carriage already waiting for them, and was even more surprised when Derek walked around from behind it. She tried not to seem disconcerted by his appearance, and Derek seemed to handle it fairly well though she saw him turn a bit pale under his dark tan. None the less, she jumped a bit at the sight of him.
Really, she was disappointed in herself for not controlling her emotions more. Someone had to take them into town, and she could only surmise that Derek had been more then willing to agree.
"Are you all right, my dear?" Lord Harold cooed in a concerned voice. Penelope watched Derek casually ready the horses, but she new he was listening.
"Um, I..." she mumbled, fumbling for a reasonable excuse, "It's just... a bit... colder, then I expected it to be... I guess." It was pathetic, but she was far from expecting her parents and Lord Harold to connect the dots.
"You poor thing," he exclaimed, whipping his coat off immediately, "this will warm you up." He wrapped it around her and put his arm across her shoulders.
"The horses are ready," said Derek, in a little bit of a clipped tone, "we should probably be on our way." He opened the door and gestured for them to go in.
It was usually one of the older stable boys jobs to take them into town. Derek and his father hailed from Scotland, making him Catholic. Like most of the English, her family was protestant. She could guess from a young age at why Derek didn’t attend church with them. She still remembered her father’s comment, ‘A good lad, even if he’s a papist’.
"Derek, you really don't have to go along with us," said Penelope's father apparently on the same wave length as her. "I'm sure one of the other boys could manage."
"It'd be my pleasure to take you and your family, sir," said Derek politely. Penelope knew Derek, though, and she knew he was probably enjoying himself just as much as she was.
Derek grasped her hand to help her in the carriage, and she couldn't help but look at him. She had been avoiding his eyes all this time and when she finally did look into those beautiful blue-green eyes of his, her heart twisted. She saw just what she thought she'd see. Anger, jealousy and sadness. She slid over in the seat opposite her parents and noticed how they had conveniently taken up all the room on their side of the carriage so that she would be forced to sit next to Lord Harold. She heard him whisper something to Derek just before coming in. What ever it was Lord Harold found it amusing and was chuckling to himself as he flopped down next to her. Derek must not have found it quite so amusing, however. He slammed the door shut, and a few seconds later they were on their way, going a little bit faster then what was absolutely necessary. She made a mental note to ask him what that was all about later.
They arrived in town without incident, much to Penelope's relief. She kept thinking about what Lord Harold could have said to Derek to get him that riled, but she wasn't really sure and that was what worried her most. Ha ha, she's mine not yours kept popping into her mind for some reason...
They all unloaded and as they headed for the entrance, (her arm once again tucked in Lord Harold's), Penelope was surprised to see Derek following them in. He was taking this protectiveness faze a little to seriously. She would hate every second she had to spend in Lord Harold’s company, but she didn’t want Derek to suffer along with her.
They slid into one of the middle pews, and she some how managed to end up squeezed between both Lord Harold and Derek. Lord Harold kept leaning over to whisper in her ear (usually about how exciting bore hunting was and how he'd rather be there then here) and every time she could feel Derek tense up. He didn't know what he was saying and for all he knew Lord Harold could be stealing her away, body and soul. Penelope sighed. If only he knew.
The only sweet nothing that Lord Harold was whispering in her ear was that, 'maybe, if she was a good wife, she could go hunting with him sometime'.
At one point, the duke excused himself to find a ‘piss pot’, as he put it. Penelope frowned in disgust before taking the opportunity to whisper in Derek’s ear, “What did he say to you, after I got into the carriage?”
A shadow passed over his face, and he had to take a few moments to get his temper in check before replying. “He was admiring your backside,” he said through gritted teeth.
Penelope’s sat speechless in horror, and had no time to make a reply before Lord Harold returned. Over all, it made for a very awkward couple of hours for Penelope.
After the service, they chatted amongst the other church goers for a bit. She said hello to a couple of friends she hadn't seen in a while, but mainly she was watching Derek. He some how managed to find a few people to talk to, and she recognized one of the more prominent horse breeders in England among them. Penelope smiled as she watched him casually from across the room. He was in a very heated discussion, and when he finally looked up to see her smiling at him, he looked a little embarrassed and even blushed. He managed to smile back, however, but Penelope focused her attention on the person next to her as a few heads turned her direction. The last thing they needed was someone to see them smiling giddily at each other from across the room.
She wanted to talk to him, reassure him that everything was well, but again she feared it would seem too suspicious. He must have had the same thought for he made now move to approach her.
After Penelope’s mother had made her daughter’s prominent wedding clear to the whole congregation, and after her father had modestly claimed the credit for such a match, they finally departed. Her parents decided to visit some old friends, the Richardson’s’, to have a late dinner. Derek was a servant and was there for casually dismissed to go tend to the horses as they ate. Penelope would have much rather been in that carriage with Derek and go hungry any day.
Unfortunately, she didn't believe her parents would approve of her being alone with Derek for a couple of hours, not to mention what her fiancé would think, so she grudgingly followed them.
The meal was nice enough, but Penelope almost drowned in her tea cup she nodded off so many times. The others seemed not to notice, however. They were too involved in their conversation over the town’s biggest scandals. Apparently a woman that wasn't from around here was going about in "inappropriate clothing". What it all came down to was just a bodice that fit a little to snuggly, but that was enough.
Penelope smiled to herself. If the Richardson's knew what their friends daughter was up to with one of the servants they'd have much more to talk about then some scantily clad lady.
They loaded back into the carriage were Derek was waiting dutifully, and made it back to the manor right before a storm broke out. They planned to each retire to their rooms to rest and refresh themselves then later meet in the dining hall for a late supper, as was the usual theme for Sunday evenings. During the meal, Penelope remembered, the servants were to remain present as was usual tradition for their family on Sundays, especially with a guest present. This included all the servants meaning that Derek would be there as well.
She knew that he probably wouldn't appreciate seeing the Duke flirt and chat with her all evening, but there was little they could do to avoid it. She just hoped Derek could keep control of his temper long enough for them to get through dessert. She wished that he wouldn't blame her for Lord Harold’s behavior, but it's not as if she wanted to be with some old bushy man that thinks he's charming.
She wanted to go out and warn Derek, but by that time it was poring outside and there was no way she could get through the house without somebody noticing. She even seriously considered climbing out of her window, but she figured that probably wasn't the best idea either. A lot worse could happen to her then spraining an ankle.
Derek would just have to figure out that she really wasn't charmed by Lord Harold on his own...
The dinner might be hard to get through, but Penelope was looking forward to meeting Derek later that night. She felt worn out from the ride, and had managed to get her dress shamefully dirty. It wasn't as if she had ran about or anything, but the roads in town themselves were filthy enough. And she wouldn’t be her clumsy self if she didn’t trip over her own feet once or twice.
She took a quick bath to calm her nerves, followed by a short nap before getting dressed for dinner. She wore one of her more complementary dresses, one that had always driven the boys crazy, and which she hoped would have the same effect on Derek.
She walked into the dining room at exactly 8 o'clock and saw Derek already standing in one of the corners looking as awkward as she had imagined he would be in this setting. She smiled at him and he smiled back without hesitation. She decided that it would seem inconspicuous enough for her to at least have a casual conversation with him before dinner, and was about to go talk to him when Lord Harold spotted her.
"My dear!” bellowed Lord Harold from halfway across the room. She wondered if he was capable of talking on a human sound level, and put on a smile as he walked toward her.
After a little small talk, mostly about Lord Harold and his weapon of choice if the battle came to sword skill (it was his Hungarian Cavalry Saber), they finally sat down to dinner. Penelope and Sir Harold were seated beside each other (big surprise) with her parents opposite them. Isabel served their food, while Derek, Pamela, and a couple other servants waited on them. Derek was behind Penelope's parents, so she was facing him. She didn't know if this was a good thing or a bad thing.
Despite her initial fears, they were served a delicious Potato Soup fairly quickly and Penelope's attention was, at once, all for the food. She dug right in, but forgot her manners and was slurping terribly. She didn't realize this until she looked up to see her mother giving her a look that could kill, and Derek trying to conceal his laugh with a cough.
Penelope didn't really care what Lord Harold thought of her and could really care less if her bad manners offended him, so she slurped on. However, Lord Harold had already resumed his talk of swords and their different uses, and hadn't even noticed.
As dinner progressed, Lord Harold became more and more flirtatious with her. She acted like she was paying attention, and smiled when he said something of a complement, but her mind was fixed on Derek. She could feel the intensity of his gaze on her and she wanted to look up, but she was too afraid that some one would notice. Or maybe she feared what she’d see in those eyes? Derek just had to control his temper a little bit longer, and all of this would be over... At least for the day that is.
Derek was serving them dessert when Lord Harold casually slipped his hand on Penelope's knee under the table. Penelope rolled her eyes to herself and wasn’t going to protest as long as his hand stayed firmly in place. Her parents weren’t even aware of their future son-in-laws brash move.
It did not go unnoticed by Derek, however, and without warning the plum pudding that had been meant for dessert was on Lord Harold's head. Everyone froze in shock, and in Penelope's instance, horror.
"Oops," Derek said, without the slightest hint of remorse in his voice. He wore an almost triumphant look on his face.
The intensity in the room in that moment was overwhelming and it felt as if not a one of them was breathing, much less moving. Much to everyone's surprise, though, Lord Harold started to smile. "Quite all right lad," he said taking a glob from atop his head and sticking it in his mouth, "accidents do happen."
All at once everyone was running around trying to fix the "accident". A servant was helping Lord Harold get the pudding off of his head, Penelope’s mother was apologizing profusely, Penelope's father was chastising Derek, and Lord Harold sat happily eating someone else’s portion of the pudding all the while.
Penelope and Derek just stood there in complete and utter shock. She couldn't help but wonder what Sir Harold's reaction would have been if the pudding wasn't so delicious.
After the mess was cleaned up (and after Lord Harold had finished eating his pudding) it was time for the men to retire to the parlor for a couple of cigars.
"That was a lovely dinner," Lord Harold commented as he stood up. Penelope stood behind her chair and dared to look toward Derek while the others were distracted. He looked a little miffed still, but he had his temper under control.
She felt Lord Harold’s hand go around her arm and turned to face him just in time to receive a very scratchy kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you tomorrow, my dear." He smiled down at her as if he was some great charmer.
Penelope was sure her face was beat red. Her mother was smiling jubilantly, but Penelope felt awful. She felt like she had betrayed Derek. She glanced behind her as she walked out of the room with her mother to find Derek with the most terrible look she had ever seen on his face. She hoped that he could forgive her.
She walked to her room, alone, her mind running over the last few moments. She rubbed her cheek where Lord Harold had kissed her and wished she could rub it away from her memory.
She hated this. Pretending that she cared for Lord Harold when the man she really loved was but a few feet away. Surely Derek couldn’t be really angry at her? It's not as if she could have helped anything. She didn't want Lord Harold to kiss her!
She got to her room and flopped on her bed hoping to have a little time to relax before she snuck out to meet Derek in the library. But it was no good. She couldn't keep her mind off of her two men. She got up and started passing across her room.
Derek couldn't be mad at her. She should be the one mad at him! He put her into this situation. They should have just acted on their first impulse and left right away.
She should have never gone to that dumb ball. Why did he have to go and steel her heart away like that? She would have been quite content not knowing it was him that she was kissing. She could have married Lord Harold peacefully knowing it was just a few minutes of fun with a total stranger.
Now she felt like her heart was being ripped apart, and it was all Derek's fault. She looked up to her clock to find that it was only eleven thirty. Though the time had passed relatively quickly, she still had thirty minutes before she was supposed to meet Derek. Still, she'd rather wait in the library then in her room.
She stalked off to their secret rendezvous spot as quietly as she could for someone so angry and clumsy as she was. When she got to the library Derek was already there. And he looked about as furious as she felt.
Penelope's stomach fluttered as usual upon seeing him, and the reaction made her even more mad at him. She was made so utterly powerless just by the sight of him, and she didn’t like the feeling.
"You came," he remarked sarcastically, an angry smirk on his face, "I half expected you to forget."
Penelope's face flushed with fury. "How dare you be angry with me? If anything, it should be the other way around!"
"Why should you be angry, you didn’t have to watch-!" he trailed off, to furious to speak coherently.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Just the memory of him touching you makes me want to punch a hole through this wall!" he said avoiding the question.
"You idiot," Penelope seethed, getting angrier by the second, "do you honestly think that I wanted to be anywhere near him!? That has to be the most feather-brained idea that has ever crossed your mind!"
They stood inches apart, still fuming and breathing heavily from all their shouting. Derek stared at her intensely and in an instant she saw something shift. That fine line between love and hate that everyone talked about was often being crossed when it came to them, but it no longer surprised her. On some level, she expected that natural release in the tension between them.
Penelope blinked, and he was kissing her, hard. She couldn’t exactly say why, but she was kissing him back, like her life depended on it. And she felt as if her life really did depend on it. She could taste blood from the impact of their kiss, and she didn't know if it was hers or Derek’s, but she didn't care.
They fueled each other's passion as the kisses became deeper and stronger. They needed each other in that moment; needed to heal themselves after the day's events. She didn't know how she got there, but her back was to the book case, and even with the support behind her she had to cling to Derek to hold herself up. His kisses weren’t careful and sweet as they had been before, but more possessive. It was as if every movement he made was to remind her that this was their’s and no one else’s.
She pulled closer to him, and he took her in his arms until all there was in the world was each other. And then he was gone. Someone was pulling Derek away from her, the same person that had always been getting in between them.
"Get your hands off of her, you cad!"
Penelope heard his voice, but it took her a few heart beats to realize who it was. And that the world, as she knew it, was ending. Her eyes flashed open to find Derek standing a few feet away from her, a cold steel blade pressed against his throat, and that stubborn look of courage carved in the features of his face.
Penelope's eyes ran up the length of the blade to find Lord Harold at the other end, looking as if he had just saved the day.
She felt frozen inside as she realized that her and Derek’s secret was no more. Her heart was pounding as she thought about the sword against Derek's neck, but surely Lord Harold wouldn't be thrown into such a rage that he would kill him?
At that moment, Penelope's parents and a few servants came tumbling into the room, "We heard the como-" began her father, but when he saw Penelope in the corner as still as death, and Lord Harold threatening Derek's life his voice caught in his throat. Penelope's mother gave a small gasp, but she too kept quiet. The tension in the room was palpable.
"You were trying to take advantage of my betrothed, weren't you, you foul beast!" Lord Harold spat at Derek, "Admit it!"
"Yes," Derek replied after a moment’s silence, and somehow managed this without changing his outward appearance or demeanor.
Penelope couldn’t understand why Derek would admit to such a thing. They both knew it was untrue, and Penelope wanted to protest, but no words would come to her. It was if she was watching everything transpire from somewhere far away.
"Very well," Lord Harold proclaimed, the same haughty look adorning his face, "I must defend my loves honor. Tomorrow at sunrise be prepared to meet me on the field. And I suggest you bring a pistol. Only one of us will be leaving alive."
He pulled the blade away and sheathed it, relieving some of the panic Penelope was feeling. But as his words sunk in, they added ten times more.
"This man is a molester," Lord Harold announced to the room, "and if I hadn't of come along, we would probably be a rapist as well. If he is lucky enough to escape death tomorrow, I expect him to be taken care of other wise."
Penelope's father nodded grimly in response to Lord Harold's statement, as Penelope's mother stood pale, shocked, and on the verge of a nervous brake-down.
Penelope once again attempted to speak out, this time with more confidence, but as her mouth opened, Derek flashed a warning look toward her that was enough to keep her tongue held for a second time.
A servant came to take Derek down and lock him up in the kitchen cellar, to ensure that he wouldn't escape before his fated duel. Penelope's mother hustled her off to her bedroom, sobbing as they went.
She was still so alarmed by it all that she didn't breath a word as her mother ranted on about how lucky she was that Lord Harold had been there. This was enough to make her laugh out loud, sending her mother on another torrent of misgivings.
Penelope finally convinced her mother that she was fine, and bid her good night. But she was anything but fine. Her hands shook as she shut the door behind her mother, and it took all of her strength to keep her from collapsing on the floor.
She thought she was seeing a ghost until she realized it was just her reflection in the mirror on the wall across from her. Her face was pale and sallow, her hair was in disarray, and her lips were red and swollen. It was no wonder that they all believed her to be the victim.
How could this have happened? She knew she was taking a risk, sneaking around with Derek, but how had he known that they were in there? It was only then that she realized that the guest chamber that Lord Harold was occupying was directly below the library, and that he probably could have heard their shouting. She should have been more careful! This was all her fault. She shouldn't have even been with Derek in the first place! Was it really worth it? Now Derek's life was at risk, and for what?! A few happy moments that always had her future marriage to Lord Harold looming down upon them?
She wanted to cry out in pain just from the brutal irony of it all. To think that Lord Harold, possibly the dirtiest slimiest man in all of England was cast as the hero, while the kind-hearted love of her life was to be the twisted molester.
She wanted to weep until she no longer had anymore tears too cry, but she knew once she started, she wouldn't be able to stop, and giving up just wasn't an option anymore. She had no idea what she was going to happen in the next twenty four hours. But she did know one thing, though. Penelope would die before she let anyone touch Derek. She needed him more then food, more then air.
What she needed now was to speak with him immediately. Thankfully there was someone that could arrange that for her.
Without even sparing a moment to remedy her appearance, Penelope set out to wake Isabel. If there was anyone that could help her break into a place, it was her.
"Penelope, what are you doing here so late?" Isabel asked groggily, as she slowly took in her visitor, "What happened?"
"Could you take me to the kitchen cellar?" Penelope asked, quickly. Her voice was horse and scratchy from lack of use after so much tension.
"Of course," Isabel replied, starting to get nervous. "Penelope, what's wrong? What happened to you?"
"I'll explain everything on the way, but we have to hurry."
As they went to the cellar, Penelope retold the events of the last few hours. Isabel's expressions ranged from confusion, to shock, until she turned as pale as Penelope when they reached some of the finer points of Lord Harold's "rescue". He may have been notorious for his long winded and boring stories, but there was also a well known reputation preceding him.
Lord Harold was know far and wide for being an expert marks-man, and was no beginner at duels either. Most had come to agree that he was impossible to beat, and that he had never once missed a shot.
They finally reached the cellar, and Isabel took out the keys and began unlocking the big bolted door. It was her mother's job as the main cook to keep the food safely locked up and away from the sticky fingers of other servants in the manor. It was seldom used to store people, however.
As the lock finally clicked, Isabel opened the door for Penelope and closed it behind her to give them time alone as she stood watch.
Penelope entered the room, to find Derek's back to her, his eyes staring out of the barred window toward the full moon that moved ever closer to the earth.
"You'll have to wait a bit longer, it's not morning yet," Derek spoke calmly, not realizing it was Penelope that had entered the room. "Or could you not wait a few more hours before trying to kill me." Penelope didn't speak; she didn't know what to say.
When no reply was made he whirled around, and as soon as he realized who was really there, he wrapped his arms around her, and whispered in her ear, "I thought I'd never see you again."
"Me too," Penelope hiccupped. She couldn't keep her emotions in check any longer, and tears were already rolling fast down her cheeks.
After a long embrace, Derek pulled back just far enough to be able to look into her eyes. He brushed her tears away with his thumb and smiled. "Well that was a little unexpected, wasn't it?"
Penelope frowned. "You can't fight him tomorrow," she said sternly. It was in no way a request.
"Well I don't have much of a choice, do I?"
"You always have a choice," she said, unrelenting. She simply would not, could not admit defeat. "I'll just tell them that we're lovers, and they'll have to blame both of us."
"No," Derek said firmly, "Telling Lord Harold that you love me instead of him probably won't make him any less inclined to kill me. All that'll lead to is your tarnished reputation, and it won't change the fact that I'll still have to face him tomorrow. It's going to happen one way or another."
"You mustn't get hurt!" she demanded, tears welling up in her eyes again. She refused to even think of what often accompanied the end of a duel.
"I promise, I'll try my best." His smile faded as he saw her tears. "Please don't cry. My fate isn't set in stone, you know. Contrary to popular belief, I could beat him! Besides, loving you and being loved back gives me more strength then he'll ever have, no matter how good of marksmen he supposedly is."
"Couldn't we just run away," she asked desperately, "Set aside you pride, please, and lets just get out of here."
"It's more then just pride that keeps me from running away, and you know it. I'd be putting Isabel and her mother at risk, considering they posses one of the only keys that could have led to my freedom. And how could I protect you and expect you to love me, knowing that I'm a coward? I just couldn't live that way. Please understand, Penny. I love you so much, please, just try to realize why I'm doing this." He held her tighter, and Penelope finally nodded.
"I understand." She knew that he was right, but she hated it all the same. "Just hold me for a while longer."
They stood still in each others arms for a few more minutes until Penelope heard Isabel from outside the door. "Penelope, it's almost dawn."
She reached into the pocket of her gown and pulled out a small package rapped in a cloth. She opened it to reveal a pendent shaped in the form of a sword with roses wrapped around the blade and handle. It was no bigger then a tea cup, but as strong as steel.
“This was my grandmother’s”, she said, looking up at Derek, “She gave it to me just before she died, and told me it was a treasure I could appreciate more then anyone she knew. It’s always given me good luck. I wore it on the night of the ball, and I want you to wear it tomorrow.”
She clasped the necklace around his neck and all the while Derek gazed upon her face, taking in every feature as she did the same to him.
"You have to go."
"I know." They kissed one last time, deep and loving, before she left him. She cried silently the whole way, as she made the lonely trip back to her room.

[Monday]

Day 13

It had been over an hour since she had left Derek, and Penelope feared that nobody would come for her when the duel began. She had just about decided to go find out what was going on when Pamela entered the room. She had a grim look on her face, but as soon as she caught sight of Penelope, her motherly instincts kicked in.
"Child, you look awful!” She walked to wear Penelope was standing and looked her over up and down. "Don't tell me you haven't slept all night!"
"Fine, I won't tell you," Penelope said, in no mood to be considerate of other’s emotions. Her feelings were everywhere, and it was hard enough to keep reminding herself to breath.
Pamela reached for the brush and began smoothing down her wild mass of hair. She convinced Penelope to wash her face too "wipe away the fatigue" of last night. Besides giving instructions, they didn't talk at all, and before long Penelope was in good enough order to go down to breakfast. Despite all of Pamela’s work, however, Penelope was still obviously filled with silent distress.
After breakfast (which Penelope was unable to eat), she walked with Lord Harold and her parents to a large field where the duel was to be held. It was very dreary and dank outside, and Penelope could feel the cold in her bones from the combination of the due that stuck to the grass and the constant drizzle that was leaking from the sky.
Finally, she could make out two figures heading toward them through the fog. As they came closer she could see that it was one of the servants, leading Derek, who was still bound, toward the clearing.
Derek still had the demeanor of someone in control, and walked by without a glance at Penelope. She didn't have so much strength in her, though, and her eyes were glued on him. Derek's wrists were untied as Lord Harold approached him.
He looked at Derek as if he were no more than an annoying fly. "This won't take long. Do you even know how to hold a gun?" Lord Harold smirked at him.
"I can manage," said Derek, obviously not affected by the dukes obvious gusto.
Lord Harold didn’t seem to notice that Derek was speaking, however. "He will be your second," he said, gesturing toward the servant, Marcus that had led Derek here.
Penelope vaguely knew the rules of a duel. She knew that it was the seconds job to make sure that the pistol was in good working order, and that the fight was fair.
Derek was unceremoniously handed the pistol and listened to a brief explanation by Marcus on how to handle the weapon. Derek nodded that he was ready, and both men took their designated places, facing away from each other. "On the count of three," Marcus explained to everyone, "turn around and shoot. The last one standing is the winner. If neither person is killed, the option can be taken by the challenger (he nodded toward Lord Harold) if the duel will be re-fought or if he is satisfied with the outcome."
"One," Penelope's breath caught in her throat. They were about to fire at each other and she was powerless to stop them. She couldn't stand this! "Two," The servants voice was ringing in her head. Her whole body was spinning. She wanted to throw up, but she seemed to be unable to do anything. There was no way she could just stand here and let this happen! "Thr- STOP!" She ran in between the two men and luckily, they did stop.
"What is the meaning of this Penelope?” asked Lord Harold. He looked confused and more then a little annoyed.
"I can't let you fight him," she said with confidence. She knew she was doing the right thing, and that gave her strength.
"Penny," came Derek's voice from behind her, "don't do this."
For the first time today, he sounded worried.
She turned around and smiled at him, sadly. "I know what I'm doing," she said honestly, "And I want to do it."
He still didn't look thoroughly convinced, but he made no further objections. She didn’t care about her reputation. So long as Derek lived.
"Can somebody please tell me what's going on here?!" yelled Lord Harold in anger and frustration.
"Yes," began Penelope. Her eyes remained locked on Derek's. She needed his strength. "Derek didn't "attack" me last night. If anything, I was the one that attacked him." She smiled, ironically.
Lord Harold's face began to turn scarlet with rage. "Do you mean-?"
"I'm in love with him," she confessed, looking at Derek lovingly, "So you see, there's really no need t-". As she turned around, Lord Harold struck her hard across the face, enough that she found herself looking up at him from the ground. The servant and her father were on both of Derek’s arms, and were barely keeping him from launching himself at Lord Harold. Penelope's mother had turned as pale as a ghost, a shade that she was beginning to become accustomed to seeing on her mother.
Penelope herself was so shocked from the blow that she couldn't even think to cry out. She certainly felt the pain of it, though, and she wondered, faintly, if the left side of her face would swell. She somehow found the strength to get up, despite it all.
"If you think your little confession will keep me from killing him," Lord Harold told her, his voice trembling with anger, "Then you are terribly mistaken, my dear. He will fall, and you will be mine." He smiled at her with the most wicked look she had ever been given.
"You're wrong," she said, surprising herself with how calm she sounded, "I will never be yours. No matter what you say or do, I will always love Derek, and he will always love me. And I will never, never, have any feelings toward you except pure loathing." She saw Lord Harold's eyes widen in anger and the veins pop out of his neck as she turned to walk toward Derek.
He was still struggling a bit as she made her way over to him, his eyes locked on Lord Harold in rage. She put her hand on his chest, and, like a spell being broken, Derek stopped fighting and looked down at Penelope. Concern for her was etched on his face. Penelope stood on her tip-toes and whispered in his ear, "Never forget how much I love you." As she leaned back, he managed to kiss her and neither one of them cared that they were in plain sight of all who surrounded them.
Penelope stepped back, well aware that every eye was upon her. After a few moments of silence, Derek finally broke his gaze away from Penelope and starred at Lord Harold, coldly. "I believe we still have a duel to fight."
Both men once again turned to face away from each other. Penelope felt sick in her stomach. From this point on Derek's fate was out of her hands, and she hated this go round worse then the first.
The servant began his countdown once again and Penelope clamped her eyes shut. She couldn't bring herself to watch. "One, two, three!" Penelope heard the sound of gun shot, and her eyes flew open just in time to see both men stumble and fall to the ground.
Her heart flew into her throat and she ran to Derek's side, fearing the worst. He lay motionless on the ground. She touched him gently and softly spoke his name but he made no sign of life. Tears started to well up in her eyes and she was having difficulty breathing. This couldn't be happening. She would not, could not believe it. He couldn't be- ... She didn't even want to imagine a world without Derek.
She looked him over once, but she didn't see any blood. She looked back at his face and was about ready to begin shaking him, when she heard a grown. She was so happy that she fell on top of him (while Derek groaned again in pain) sobbing and kissing him at the same time.
"Penny?" Derek breathed.
"Yes, love?"
"Could you possibly be a tad more delicate?"
She lifted herself up, her hands on his chest, and looked into his eyes with worry. "Why? What hurts?"
"Well everything. But in particular, underneath your right hand."
Penelope pulled her hand back, slightly embarrassed with herself. There was a bullet whole in his shirt right were his heart aught to be. They both looked up at each other in wonder. Penelope ripped open his shirt, as gently as she possibly could, and found the bullet right in the middle of the solid silver medallion that she had given to Derek but a few hours ago. She looked up at him with a bemused smile on her face, and he looked as astonished as she did.
"I guess today's your lucky day," Penelope said with a smile.
But Derek wasn't smiling. "Not if I killed the duke. I'll still have to face the gallows."
"It's not your fault!" Penelope protested. "You were just defending yourself!"
"I doubt that many will see it in the same light."
The clump was beginning to reform in Penelope's throat. She helped Derek up and they slowly made there way back to where Lord Harold still lay, motionless. The servant was still leaning over him when they arrived, but Lord Harold certainly didn't look very alive.
"Is he-?” Penelope whispered.
"Dead? Yes," she heard the servant say.
Penelope looked up at Derek. She was already formulating their plan for escape in her head.
"But Derek didn't kill him,” he added.
"What?!" they both exclaimed at once.
"He clutched his chest before falling to the ground, but there isn’t any wound to be found on him.”
Derek grumbled, but not from pain, "The man dropped dead and he still managed to shoot me dead on!"
Penelope couldn't help but smile. She almost felt bad about feeling such joy at the death of someone. Almost. But really, Lord Harold was the only thing in the way of Derek and Penelope’s' happiness. He wasn't kind or decent, and he certainly didn't bring pleasure to any one around him.
Her parents might not like the idea of her marrying a farm boy, of course, but she was sure she could persuade them otherwise. In fact, Penelope was almost certain that she would never be sad again when everything fell to peaces, once more.
Two armed policemen walked up and instantly Penelope's stomach was in knots again.
“We ‘eard talk a’ there being a duel here,” sneered one of the policeman. He was large with mostly rotten teeth, and a stench so strong that Penelope fought the urge to hold her nose and move upwind of him. “But i’ looks like we came to la’e to stop i’.” He didn’t seem too broken up about the news.
He glanced over at Lord Harold’s motionless body. “The duke lost?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “Who’s the bloke that fought ‘im?”
“I am,” said Derek stepping forward.
“Right,” said the officer, “you’re under arrest for the murder of Lord Harold of Westerfeild.”
Penelope was instantly furious. "You can't arrest him!" she shouted in anger. "He didn't kill anyone!"
"She's right, there's no bullet wound on him," said the servant. "It appears as if he died of a heart attack."
"It doesn't matter if the lady is correct or not," replied the other, at least slightly more intelligent looking officer. "There is no physician here to prove your claim, and he still participated in a duel. Besides, we have our orders."
"I don't care what your damn orders are!" shouted Penelope. "Release him at once."
"Should I be takin’ you too, miss?" said the first policeman in annoyance.
"You can bloody well try!"
"Penny," said Derek to her, softly. "Don't."
Penelope still wanted to fight but she held her tongue, knowing it wouldn’t help the situation any.
“We’re going to need to keep him somewhere here until we can get an armed transport to town,” said the officer to her father. “We couldn’t imagine that he’d still be alive!” he said, almost laughing.
Her father and mother led the policemen into the house, taking Derek with them. She caught his eye as he walked away, and that same determined stubbornness was carved in his features. She only wished she had the same confidence as he did, but she just didn’t know what she could do this time.
Penelope eventually followed the others inside. She didn't know what she was going to do, but she had made it this far, and she wasn't going to give up now. She had found true love, watched him escape the narrow clutches of death, and avoided marrying the worst man possibly conceived in these last few days. What was stopping her from busting Derek out of jail too?
Well maybe not bust him out of jail, but at least clear his good name.
Still conniving, she headed toward the cellar, the same one she had visited Derek in the night before. She heard her father's voice, and the voice of the policemen from behind the corner, and hid in a hall closest, and could just make out what they were saying.
"...planning on keeping him here?" came the dull whisper of her father.
"Don't fret yourself, gov'n" came the almost mocking voice of the first officer, "he'll be out of 'er by midnight. We’ve already sent word to bring more men."
Midnight... thought Penelope to herself, that doesn't give me much time.
"Well what are we going to do with him in the mean time?" asked her father, in an annoyed tone.
"He's not going anywhere, gov'n!"
She heard the rattling of keys as the two officers walked off, chuckling. After a few moments her father strode off as well.
When she determined the coast was clear she slide out of the closet and walked to the cellar door. She ambled up to the edge of the door and whispered as quietly as she could.
"Derek? Are you there?"
She heard some slight movement before she heard him speak, "Penny?"
Penelope smiled. It always gave her hope just hearing his voice. "Yes, it's me. I'm getting you out of here, ok?"
"And how are you planning on doing that? Busting down the door?"
"If I have too..." she mumbled.
She heard her father's voice again, and footsteps coming down the hallway. Apparently, Derek heard it too.
"You should go," he whispered.
"I'll come back for you," she said with confidence.
"I'll be waiting." She could here the smile in his voice. "Listen, go to my father, and tell him what's going on. If I don't get out of here, I want him to at least to know what happened from someone that I trust to tell him the truth."
"I'll tell him, but you will get out of here."
"If I do, I promise I'll never leave your side again."
She smiled. "I'll hold you to that."
The footsteps were getting louder.
"Go," he commanded.
She slid down the hall just in time to miss her father coming back with a servant to guard Derek.
She snuck out of the house as fast and as discreetly as she could. As she made her way to the stables, she decided that she would figure out a way to free Derek on the way to visit his father, and if all else failed she'd ask him for assistance.
She told the stable boy that she was just going to go on her usual ride, and she was off within fifteen minutes.
She thought of just getting a servant to distract her father long enough for her to get the door open to Derek's temporary prison, but then there was the matter of Isabel or her mother getting blamed. They were in the same boat as the night before as far as that went.
And even if she managed to bust Derek out without setting her friends up for danger, running away would make it seem that Derek really was guilty. Then again, if he stayed put and actually went through with the trial, he didn't have much of a chance. How would it seem to a jury if a well renounced war hero's death was placed at the feet of some lowly servant, especially if they had uncovered the circumstances of the duel in the first place?
No matter which way she worked it out, it seemed like there was no way of escape for them. And if Derek was locked away, she might as well be too.
Her endless hours spent on a horse allowed her to ride hard without taking many breaks and she made good time into town. She was lucky that she remembered were Derek’s father lived, it had been so long since she had seen it. She was with her parents in town before (Derek had accompanied them as the servant) and it had been pointed out to her. The regret of never actually had met the man before saddened her but she was thankful for the opportunity now, especially because she was so close to Derek. She wanted to know the man that made Derek who he was. She wanted to see that peace of his life that she had never witnessed before.
Penelope rode up to the inn that he lived in and, after she found someone to take care of her horse, she made her way to his room. She hesitantly knocked on the door not knowing what to expect. Within moments a pleasant old man with wispy gray hair, and the hint of youth that still lingered on after old age answered the door.
"May I help you, my dear?" he asked smiling at her kindly.
"Beg pardon,” she said nervously, “but are you Derek’s father?" She hoped that he wasn’t offended by her lack of manners.
"Why yes I am," he said, his smile growing broader, "are you a friend of his?"
She nodded, knowing that her voice had a way of betraying her emotions. When she explained Derek's situation to him, it needed to be in a calm manner.
"Well come in, come in," he said, beckoning her into the small, but cozy apartment. "I just put a spot of tea on, dear, would you like some?"
"No thank you," she said taking in her surroundings. It wasn't furnished to what she was used to, but she thought she could be far happier living in here then in a house that felt like a prison.
He came back into the room caring two cups of tea, one of which he set in front of her, "Just in case you change your mind."
He looked at her for a second before stating, "You would be Miss Walker. Would that be correct, my dear?"
She was a bit surprised that he could tell who she was, and the shock on her face must have been quite obvious, for he chuckled a bit at the sight of her.
"Didn't mean to get all cryptic on you dear, but the way he talks about you all the time, I'd have to be fairly dense not to recognize you when I saw you. You can call me Henry, by the way."
"Thank you, Henry, but I'm a bit worried about the way he might have described me," she said, smiling. For some reason, ‘moronic dolt’ came to mind.
"Well, for a time it was all about how feather-headed and foolish you were," she rolled her eyes, knowing that these were probably direct quotes, "but more recently they've turned into describing your actual appearance. ‘Skin the color of milk but the texture of the softest of silks,' Or, 'Hair that shines like the sun on the most beautiful day in the spring.' I think my favorite was 'Eyes so deep a shade of green that anyone could become easily lost in them, and never want to be found again.' You know, stuff along those lines,"
Penelope blushed in embarrassment that he thought of her so highly. Or maybe it was just how much she loved him and never wanted to be out of his arms. Then her heart gave a twist.
"What's the matter my dear?" he asked in a concerned voice, "You've just turned three shades paler then usual, and that’s quite an accomplishment considering your ‘milky white skin’."
She looked up into his kind face, and didn't want to cause him pain. But she knew that if she was in his place she would want a first hand explanation of what was going on with her son.
"Something terrible has happened."
She slowly explained to Henry what had happened over the last couple of days, gulping down tea during the harder parts, blotting angry tears into a handkerchief (courtesy of Mr. Matthews), and slowly, she got the whole story out.
"Well," she said shakily, "what are we going to do now?"

~~~

Derek leaned his head against the door that was the only thing separating him from freedom and his Penny. Not that he could really do anything at the moment. Even if he managed to break the door down (the very thick wooden door that happened to be bolted), what would he do then? He wasn't very inconspicuous and hadn't been since he was sixteen. He remembered being that scrawny little stable boy and thinking that he was doomed to be so forever. Now at 6' 4", the last thing people would think to describe him as was subtle.
Mostly, though, he wondered what Penny was doing. By now she had hopefully spoken with his father, but then what? Maybe she would return and he would be able to spend a few more private moments with her before he was taken away. He imagined himself at a trial, defending himself on a false accusation of murder, but it was impossible. He still couldn't believe everything that had happened to him in the last week. The ball had turned his life upside down, and now he was here. Accused of murdering his loves fiancé.
But he wouldn't change a thing. He wasn't much of a believer in fate or destiny, but those few enjoyable moments with Penny since the ball were worth where he was now. In a heartbeat, he would do it all again.
Derek smiled just thinking of her. He wanted to give her so much, to share so much with her. He wanted to marry her, make every day they were together an unforgettable memory. He wanted to give her happiness, passionately love her, body and soul, as they started a family together and watched it slowly grow as time went by. He wanted to give himself to her completely.
But, unfortunately, the British authorities had already laid claim to him. He might not be able to see her again for a very long time, if ever, but if she couldn't have all of him, she would at least always have his heart.
Derek sat alone in his thoughts of Penelope, and before to long he had fallen into a light sleep. It wasn't as if he was feeling particularly unconcerned with the current state of things, but just thinking about Penny relaxed him. He was awoken by a soft murmur, however, on the other side of his door. His eyes slowly opened, lingering on the image of Penny's soft but determined features that he loved so much.
What he noticed first upon seeing the room was that it was dark. He could partially see the moon through the high cellar window that, during the day, let through glimpses of sunlight. The next thing he noticed was that someone was speaking to him.
"Could you repeat that?" asked Derek, really wishing that he wouldn't. Derek had never really been partial to Penny's father. He was never very caring to his daughter, only concerned with his wealth, instead of his family's happiness. Arranged or, in this case, forced marriages were becoming rarer and rarer as the times changed, but there were still many a family that dictated an act that should be done out of love not obligation. And yet, Penny's father was forcing her into doing something that would destroy who she truly was. If Derek was apart of ruining that, well then at least no one could say that he had died with any regrets.
"You really do love her,” came the same musing voice, "don't you?"
Derek smiled. He supposed it had been obvious to everybody, but Penny's parents, and Lord Harold. Derek knew that he had always loved Penny he just hadn't quite understood it until that night on the balcony. But it was evident in the awe struck voice of this grown man that he had been completely blind sided. Derek was sure it had never occurred to him that his daughter was old enough to know what love even was, much less show it to a poor servant boy like himself. But she did know what true love was, both of them did.
"Yes," he rang out in confidence, "more then you'll ever know."

~~~

Derek didn't admit to himself that he was worried till eleven o'clock that night. But as the hall clock chimed down the hall, he began to grow more concerned. What if something had happened to her? What if she hadn't even made it to her father's house? Her parents wouldn't notice till the next day that she was missing, when all the excitement of a prisoner was over.
But it didn’t take long for him to realize what had really happened, and his heart sunk lower then it had been all day.
The reason for her delay was not that she was in danger, but that she simply did not want to see him again. Maybe she couldn't deal with the madness of it all anymore and she had just decided to leave well enough alone. Or maybe she just simply couldn't bear to be that close to him again knowing that she would loose him. Either way, Derek knew that he should be happy that she was safe and not creating some half-cocked plan of rescuing him.
Still, he had wished to see her one last time before he lost her forever. The clock had reached 11:56 and he could here the smart heals of the officers boots as they marched down the stone hallway towards his lonely prison.
As he was led out of the room, the police officers with his arms firmly in their grasps, he heard something so incredible, that even he at first did not comprehend it.
"Wait," came Penny's voice ringing out high and clear as she turned the corner into the hallway that they had been leaving, "release that man at once."

~~~

Penelope had a plan. Derek's father had been quite distressed, but only for about a minute. Then he was smiling. But despite his confidence, Henry’s plans didn’t go as smoothly as they’d first hoped.
It took them a couple of hours to find their proof. It was hidden beneath the piles of "important" papers that Derek's father kept. Then they had to go find the town judge to verify the legality of their document. Derek's father had been a slow rider, as well. But they had made it just in time. Derek was pale from the stress of the last few days, but seeing him smile at her gave her hope.
But she was still more then a little worried. The policemen didn't seem as if they would listen to reason, even with the amazing evidence she had managed to conjure. But if they didn't release him now she would demand justice when she followed them into town.
She summoned all the confidence she could muster. "You can't arrest him."
"I'm sorry, deary," snickered one of the policemen at her, "but I don't think that you have much of anything to do with that decision."
"Oh yes," she smiled back, "I do."
She pulled out the peace of paper that would hopefully save Derek's life as well as hers.
"If you put this man in jail, you will take away the last remaining heir to Westerfeild Park. And I don't think you two want to be the ones to arrest one of the most influential dukes in all of England."
A devilish smile curled up on her face as she shoved the piece of paper into her father's hand.
"Wha’ are you talkin’ about?" laughed the officer, "He's barely more then a gu'er snipe." His mouth opened with a smile displaying his black rotten teeth."
Derek looked puzzled but slightly amused. "I don't think telling them that I'm a duke is anyway to get them to release me."
She frowned, exasperated. "I have proof! Do you think I'd just make it all up and expect them to believe me?"
"I don't know," said Derek still smiling, "I'm still just glad that you're here."
Penelope smiled, rolling her eyes. How could she not love him?
The police officer pulled the peace of paper away from Penelope's father. He read through it rapidly and somewhere in the back of her mind, she thought of how amazed she was that the man could even read.
"This doesn't prove not'in!" said the officer, his smile beginning to change. He looked more annoyed at this point, "This just says that the former duke's belongings are to pass to the next male heir. In what way is that unusual?"
"Well," said Penelope, gaining confidence, “as everyone here knows, Lord Harold never married," she blushed despite herself, "and never had any children.” Her mind briefly flashed to the story her father had told her but a few days ago. She glanced nervously in her father’s direction to see if he was planning to say anything, but he seemed completely oblivious. If she every made it out of this mess, she would do right by the woman and her child. “He had one sister, but she died several years ago."
"I'm not seeing your point here, dearie," said the officer.
“Well of course you can’t, I haven’t made it yet,” she said angrily. “And stop calling me ‘dearie’.”
The policemen ignored her former comment and continued, "Just because, the little snake killed the duke, doesn't mean he's one himself now!"
“No," said Penelope, trying to steady her voice, "But Lord Harold’s sister had a child before she died. She married-"
"Me." Every head in the room turned to where the voice had come from. Derek's father strode up, "She was my wife. And, we obviously had a son," he said winking at Derek.
Everybody looked stunned (except for Penelope and Henry of course) and it was her own father who finally spoke up. Penelope wasn't surprised at the part of the story that he was most amazed at.
"Lord Harold's family allowed their daughter to marry a peasant?" He sounded shocked, even scandalized.
Henry’s eyes flashed showing some of the rebellious spirit he had left from his youth.
"No, actually, they didn't approve at all," he said smiling, as if remembering something that was extremely amusing at the time, "We were sixteen when we told them that we were going to get married. They laughed in our face and basically through me off the property. That night we ran away and were married within the week," he smiled, "We gave them a fair warning."
The officer was next to speak up. "And how are you going to prove all of this, exactly?"
Derek's father pulled out two more peaces of paper and handed them to the policemen. "There's the marriage license and Derek's birth certificate."
After glancing at them briefly, the officer thought of something more that wasn't perfectly lucid. "What if these are fakes? There's no proof that says their real!" he exclaimed triumphantly.
"Excuse me gentlemen," said a man in black judges robes, "but I'm afraid that's why I'm here." The man was old and had been a court official in the nearby town for many years. "If I might introduce myself, my name is Judge Hawthorn, and I've already made sure that all of these documents are legal. I was the one who married them, actually, and if I might add, this young man is the spitting image of his mother. You have her eyes," he remarked smiling at Derek.
The policeman threw the papers down in frustration. "Well what the hell are we supposed to do now?!"
"I suggest you let the young man go," advised Judge Hawthorn thoughtfully. "No jury in England would convict the last remaining heir to Westerfield. Especially not, if it's a crime I’ve heard he didn't commit."
The policeman stood in silence for a few moments, before grumbling, "Forge' it! I'm getting the hell out a' this loony place!"
With that resounding note, he reached down and took the handcuffs off of Derek, and the two Policemen showed themselves to the door.
Once free, Derek turned to Penelope's father and didn't ask, but told Penelope’s father, "I'm going to marry her."
"Yes," he replied, dully. "I suppose you are."
As if to reassure himself that this was final, Derek strode over to Penelope and gave her the best, but certainly not last, kiss from the bottom his heart.

[Monday]

Day 14

Penelope put on her finest dress the next morning with a smile on her face, something that she couldn't stop doing since last nights events. It was still hard for her to believe that all her dreams were soon to be realized. She was still engaged to the Duke of Westerfield, but the carrier of the title had gone through an amazing transformation.
She arrived in town, right on time, and walked inside the church to see many of the people she knew and loved. She strode down the aisle were Derek was waiting for her, smiling.
"What took you so long?" he said with a smile across his face, "I was beginning to think you were going to be late."
"I would never be late for something so important. I was just running a tad bit behind schedule," she whispered, returning his smile. "It takes a lot of work to look this good, you know?”
"Oh, how foolish of me," he teased, "I didn't think there was much effort in putting on a dress."
She wanted to reply that, yes, it did take some effort to put on her dress, and there was also her hair and other features to tend to as well, but at that moment the preacher had begun to speak.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today..."
But she wasn't listening. She had her eyes on Derek, and he was staring right back. They were both thinking the same thing. And that was that they couldn't wait until their own wedding.
Before them, kneeling at the alter, was her best friend Isabel, beaming, and her beloved farmer Tom, looking equally as happy. Isabel's father had given his consent that morning, and they had immediately decided to get married that day. “Before some other disaster takes place”, Isabel had said. With the discovery of Derek's knew title, Penelope had made it clear that she would love to go to her friends wedding, and that both of them couldn't be happier for her.
So there she was, watching her best friend have the happiest day of her life, knowing that she would have her own day in the very near future. The ceremony was over before they knew it and the happy new couple kissed and walked outside to be greeted by their friends and family for the first time as man and wife. Isabel winked at Penelope as she strode out the doors, her version of telling her to find her when the crowd of people had dissipated. She was happy to oblige, not wanting to get mixed up in the crowd of exuberant relatives.
She walked over toward Derek. He smiled at her and genteelly opened the crook of his arm. "Well, my lady?" he steered her toward the door, "Shall we depart?"
"But of course!" she said, playing along.
They strolled out into the bright sunshine, and she blinked up at Derek's perfect blue eyes. He leaned down and kissed her lovingly, and she knew in that moment that no matter what happened beyond this point that it would all be okay. She was with the man she loved.

THE END