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I do not own Merlin or the characters, neither do I own An Offer From A Gentleman.
Just one more chapter and the epilogue to come...
LADY MIDDLETON'S SOCIETY PAPERS, 16 JUNE 1817
Such a scurry on Bruton Street! The dowager Viscountess Igraine Pendragon and her son, the dashing Arthur Pendragon, were seen scampering out of her house Friday morning. Mr. Pendragon practically threw his mother into a carriage, and they took off at breakneck speed. Georgina and Morgana Pendragon were seen standing in the doorway, and this author has it on the best authority that Georgina was heard to utter a very unladylike word.
But the Pendragon household was not the only one to see such excitement. The Penwoods also experienced a great deal of activity, culminating in a public row right on the front steps of their home, between the countess and her daughter, Miss Penelope Farthington.
As this author has never liked Lady Penwood, I can only say, "Huzzah for Penelope!"
It was cold... Really cold... And there was an awful scurrying noise that definitely belonged to a small, four-legged creature. Or even worse, a large, four-legged creature.
Or to be more precise, a large version of a small, four-legged creature.
Rats...
"Oh, God," Gwen moaned. She didn't often take the Lord's name in vain, but now seemed as good a time as any to start.
Maybe He would hear, and maybe He would smite the rats.
That would do very nicely...
A big jolt of lightning... Huge... Of biblical proportions... It could hit the earth, spread little electrical tentacles around the globe and sizzle all the rats dead.
It was a lovely dream. Right up there with the ones in which she found herself living happily ever after as Mrs. Arthur Pendragon.
She took a quick gasp as a sudden stab of pain pierced her heart...
Of the two dreams, she feared that the genocide of the rats might be the one more likely to come true.
She was on her own now.
Well and truly on her own.
She didn't know why this was so upsetting. In all truth, she'd always been on her own.
Not since her grandmother had deposited her on the front steps of Penwood Manor had she had a champion...someone who put her interests above or even at the same level as their own.
Her stomach growled, reminding her that she could add hunger to her growing list of miseries...
And thirst...
They hadn't even brought her so much as a sip of water. And she was starting to have very strange fantasies about tea.
She let out a long, slow breath, trying to remember to breathe through her mouth when it came time to inhale.
The stench was overwhelming...
She'd been given a crude chamber pot to use for her bodily functions, but so far she'd been holding it in, trying to relieve herself with as little frequency as possible.
The chamber pot had been emptied before it had been tossed into her cell, but it hadn't been cleaned... And in fact when she had picked it up it had been wet, causing her to drop it immediately as her entire body shuddered with revulsion.
She had, of course, emptied many chamber pots in her time, but the people she'd worked for had generally managed to hit their mark, so to speak. Not to mention she had always been able to wash her hands afterwards.
Now, in addition to the cold and the hunger, she didn't feel clean in her own skin.
It was a horrible sensation.
"You have a visitor."
Gwen jumped to her feet at the warden's gruff, unfriendly voice. Could Arthur have found out where she was?
Would he even wish to come to her aid?
Did he...
"Well, well, well."
The countess...
Gwen's heart sank.
"Guinevere Roberts," she clucked, approaching the cell and then holding a handkerchief to her nose, as if Gwen was the sole cause of the stench. "I would never have guessed that you would have the audacity to show your face in London."
Gwen clamped her mouth together in a mutinous line. She knew the countess wanted to get a rise out of her, and she refused to give her the satisfaction.
"Things aren't going well for you, I'm afraid," the countess continued, shaking her head in a parody of sympathy. She leaned forward and whispered, "The magistrate doesn't take very kindly to thieves."
Gwen crossed her arms and stared stubbornly at the wall. If she so much as looked at that villainous woman, she probably wouldn't be able to restrain herself from lunging at her.
And the metal bars of her cell were likely to do serious damage to her face.
"The shoe clips were bad enough," the countess said, tapping her chin with her forefinger. "But the nice magistrate grew so very angry when I informed him of the theft of my wedding ring."
"I didn't..." Gwen caught herself before she yelled any more. That was exactly what the evil woman wanted.
"Didn't you?" she returned, smiling slyly. She waggled her fingers in the air. "I don't appear to be wearing it, and it's your word against mine."
Gwen's lips parted, but not a sound emerged...
The countess was right. And no judge would take her word over the Countess of Penwood's.
The countess smiled slightly, her expression vaguely feline.
"The man in front...I think he said he was the warden...said you're not likely to be hanged, so you needn't worry on that score. Transportation is a much more likely outcome."
Gwen almost laughed. Just the day before she'd been considering emigrating to another country. Now it seemed she'd be leaving for certain...except her destination would probably be Australia...
And she'd be in chains... Then made a slave for life.
"I'll plead for clemency on your behalf," the countess said. "I don't want you killed, only... Gone."
"A model of Christian charity," Gwen muttered. "I'm sure the justice will be touched."
The countess brushed her fingers against her temple, idly pushing back her hair.
"Won't he, though?" She looked directly at Gwen and smiled. It was a hard and hollow expression, and suddenly Gwen had to know...
"Why do you hate me?" she whispered.
The countess did nothing but stare at her for a moment, and then she said,
"Because he loved you."
Gwen was stunned into silence...
And the countess' eyes grew impossibly brittle.
"I will never forgive him for that."
Gwen shook her head in disbelief.
"He never loved me."
"He clothed you. He fed you." The countess' mouth tightened. "He forced me to live with you."
"That wasn't love," Gwen said. "That was guilt. If he loved me he wouldn't have left me with you. He wasn't stupid; he had to have known how much you hated me. If he loved me he wouldn't have forgotten me in his will. If he loved me..."
She broke off, choking on her own voice.
The countess crossed her arms...
"If he loved me," Gwen continued. "He might've taken the time to talk to me... He might've asked me how my day went, or what I was studying, or did I enjoy my breakfast." She swallowed convulsively, turning away. It was too hard to look at the countess just then. "He never loved me," she said quietly. "He didn't know how to love."
No words passed between the two women for many moments, and then the countess said,
"He was punishing me."
Slowly, Gwen turned back around...
"For not giving him an heir," the countess finished. Her hands began to shake. "He hated me for that."
Gwen didn't know what to say... Rather, she didn't know if there was anything to say...
But after a long moment, the countess said,
"At first, I hated you because you were an insult to me. No woman should have to shelter her husband's bastard."
Gwen said nothing...
"But then... But then..."
To Gwen's great surprise, the countess sagged against the wall, as if the memories were sucking away her very strength.
"But then it changed," the woman finally said. "How could he have had you with some whore, and I could not give him a child?"
There seemed little point in Gwen defending her mother. So she didn't.
"I didn't just hate you, you know," the countess whispered. "I hated seeing you."
Somehow, that didn't surprise Gwen.
"I hated hearing your voice... I hated the fact that your eyes were his... And I hated knowing that you were in my house."
"It was my house, too," Gwen said quietly.
"Yes," the countess replied. "I know. I hated that, too."
Gwen turned quite sharply, looking the countess in the eye.
"Why are you here?" she asked. "Haven't you done enough? You've already ensured my transportation to Australia."
She shrugged.
"I can't seem to stay away. There's something so lovely about seeing you in jail. I shall have to bathe for three hours straight to rid myself of the stench, but it's worth it."
"Then excuse me if I go sit in the corner and pretend to read a book," Gwen spat out. "Because there is nothing lovely about seeing you!"
With that, she marched over to the wobbly three-legged stool that was her cell's only piece of furniture and sat down, trying not to look as miserable as she felt.
The countess had bested her, it was true, but her spirit had not been broken, and she refused to let the woman think otherwise.
She sat, arms crossed, her back to the cell opening, listening for signs that she was leaving.
But the countess stayed...
And finally, after about ten minutes of the nonsense, she jumped to her feet and yelled,
"Would you go?"
To that, the countess cocked her head slightly to the side and said,
"I'm thinking."
Gwen would've asked about what she was thinking, but she was afraid of the answer. So she just remained silent.
"I wonder what it's like in Australia," the countess mused. "I've never been, of course; no civilized person of my acquaintance would even consider it. But I hear it is dreadfully warm. And you with your light brown skin. That lovely complexion of yours isn't likely to survive the hot sun. In fact..."
Whatever the countess had been about to say was cut off, thankfully, because Gwen feared she might be moved to attempt murder if she had to listen to another word from her.
Somehow, a commotion seemed to have erupted around the corner...
"What the devil..?" the countess said, taking a few steps back and craning her neck for a better view.
And then... Gwen heard a very familiar voice...
"Arthur?" she whispered.
"What did you say?" the countess demanded.
But Gwen had already jumped to her feet and had her face pressed up against the bars of her cell...
"I said let us pass!" Arthur boomed.
"Arthur!" Gwen yelled. She forgot that she didn't particularly want the Pendragons to see her in such demeaning surroundings...
She forgot that she had no future with him...
All she could think was that he had come for her, and he was here.
If Gwen could've fit her head through the bars, she would have.
She heard a rather sickening smack...obviously that of flesh against bone echoed through the air, followed by a duller thud... Probably that of a body against floor...
Running steps, and then...
"Arthur!"
"Guinevere! My God, are you well?"
His hands reached through the bars, cupping her cheeks. And then his lips found hers...
The kiss was not one of passion but of terror and relief.
"Mr. Pendragon?" the countess squeaked.
Somehow, Gwen managed to pull her eyes off Arthur and onto the countess Calliope's shocked face...
In the flurry of excitement, she'd quite forgotten that the woman was still unaware of her ties to the Pendragon family.
It was one of life's most perfect moments...
Maybe it meant she was a shallow person...
Maybe it meant that she didn't have her priorities in the proper order...
But Gwen just loved that the countess, for whom position and power were everything, had just witnessed her being kissed by one of London's most eligible bachelors.
Of course, she was also rather glad to see Arthur...
Arthur pulled away, his reluctant hands trailing lightly across Gwen's face as he drew back from the bars. Then, as he crossed his arms, he gave the countess a glare that Gwen was convinced would scorch earth.
"What are your charges against her?" he demanded.
Well, Gwen's feelings for the countess could best be categorized as extreme dislike, but even so, she never would've described the older woman as stupid.
She was now, however, prepared to reassess that judgment because the countess, instead of quaking and cowering as any sane person might do under such fire, planted her hands on her hips and belted out,
"Theft!"
At that very moment, Lady Pendragon came scurrying around the corner...
"I don't believe you! I can't ever see Gwen doing any such thing!" she said, rushing to her son's side. Her eyes narrowed as she regarded the countess. "And," she added rather peevishly, "I never liked you, Lady Penwood."
The countess drew back and planted an affronted hand on her chest.
"This is not about me," she huffed. "It is about that girl," she said with a scathing glance towards Gwen. "She had the audacity to steal my wedding band!"
"I never stole your wedding band, and you know it!" Gwen protested. "The last thing I would want of yours..."
"You stole my shoe clips!"
Gwen's mouth closed into a belligerent line...
"Ha! See!" The countess looked about, trying to gauge how many people had seen. "A clear admission of guilt."
"She is your stepdaughter," Arthur ground out. "She should never have been in a position where she felt she had to..."
The countess' face twisted and grew red...
"Don't you ever!" she warned. "Call her my stepdaughter. She is nothing to me. Nothing!"
"I beg your pardon," Lady Pendragon said in a remarkably polite voice. "But if she truly meant nothing to you, you'd hardly be here in this filthy jail, attempting to have her hanged for theft."
The countess was saved from having to reply by the arrival of the magistrate, who was followed by an extremely grumpy-looking warden, who also happened to be sporting a rather stunning black eye.
Seeing as the warden had spanked her on the bottom while shoving her into her cell, Gwen really couldn't help but smile.
"What is going on here?" the magistrate demanded.
"This woman," Arthur started, his loud, deep voice effectively blotting out all other attempts at an answer. "Has accused my fiancée of theft."
'Fiancée?' Gwen thought, her eyes widening...
She just managed to snap her mouth shut, but even so, she had to clutch tightly onto the bars of her cell, because her legs had turned to instant water.
"Fiancée?" the countess gasped.
The magistrate straightened...
"And precisely who are you, sir?" he asked, clearly aware that Arthur was someone important, even if he wasn't positive who.
Arthur crossed his arms as he said his name...
"Arthur Pendragon."
The magistrate paled.
"Er, any relation to the viscount?"
"He's my brother."
"And she's..." He gulped as he pointed to Gwen. "...your fiancée?"
Gwen waited for some sort of supernatural sign to stir the air, branding Arthur as a liar, but to her surprise, nothing happened.
Even Lady Pendragon was nodding...
"You can't marry her," the countess insisted.
Arthur turned to his mother...
"Is there any reason I need to consult Lady Penwood about this?"
"None that I can think of," Lady Pendragon replied.
"She is nothing but a whore," the countess hissed. "Her mother was a whore, and blood runs...urp!"
Arthur had her by the throat before anyone was even aware that he had moved.
"Don't make me hit you," he warned.
The magistrate tapped him on the shoulder.
"You really ought to let her go."
"Might I muzzle her?"
The magistrate looked torn, but eventually he shook his head in the negative.
With obvious reluctance, Arthur released the countess.
"If you marry her," she said, rubbing her throat, "I shall make sure everyone knows exactly what she is... The bastard daughter of a whore."
The magistrate turned to the countess with a stern expression.
"I don't think we need that sort of language."
"I can assure you I am not in the habit of speaking in such a manner," she replied, sniffing disdainfully. "But the occasion warrants strong speech."
Gwen actually bit her knuckle as she stared at Arthur, who was flexing and unflexing his fingers in a most menacing manner.
Clearly, he felt the occasion warranted strong fists...
The magistrate cleared his throat.
"You have accused her of a very serious crime." He gulped. "And she's going to be married to a Pendragon."
"I am the Countess of Penwood," she shrilled. "Countess!"
The magistrate looked back and forth between the occupants of the room. The countess outranked everyone, but at the same time, she was only one Penwood against two Pendragons, one of whom was very large, visibly angry, and had already planted his fist in the warden's eye.
"She stole from me!"
"No, you stole from her!" Arthur roared.
The room fell into instant silence...
"You stole her very childhood," he said, his body shaking with rage. There were huge gaps in his knowledge of Gwen's life, but somehow he knew that this woman had caused much of the pain that lurked behind her brown eyes.
And he would've been willing to bet that her dear, departed papa was responsible for the rest.
He turned to the magistrate and said,
"My fiancée is the bastard daughter of the late Earl of Penwood. And that is why the dowager countess has falsely accused her of theft. It is revenge and hate, pure and simple."
The magistrate looked from Arthur to the countess and then finally to Gwen.
"Is this true?" he asked her. "Have you been falsely accused?"
"She took the shoe clips," the countess shrieked. "I swear on my husband's grave, she took the shoe clips!"
"Oh, for the love of God, Mother, I took the shoe clips."
Gwen's mouth fell open...
"Penelope?"
Arthur looked at the newcomer, she was a short, slightly pudgy young woman who was obviously the countess' daughter. Then glanced back to Gwen, who had gone quite ashen...
"Get out of here!" the countess hissed. "You have no place in these proceedings."
"Obviously she does," the magistrate said, turning to the countess. "If she took the shoe clips. Do you want to have her charged?"
"She's my daughter!"
"Put me in the cell with Gwen!" Penelope said dramatically, even going as far as to clasp one of her hands to her breast with great effect. "If she is transported for theft, then I must be as well."
For the first time in several days, Arthur found himself smiling.
The warden took out his keys...
"Sir?" he said hesitantly, nudging the magistrate.
"Put those away," the magistrate snapped. "We're not incarcerating the countess' daughter."
"Do not put those away," Lady Pendragon cut in. "I want my future daughter-in-law released immediately!"
The warden looked helplessly at the magistrate.
"Oh, very well," the magistrate said, jabbing his finger in Gwen's direction. "Let that one free. But no one is going anywhere until I have this sorted out."
The countess bristled in protest, but Gwen was duly released. She started to run to Arthur, but the magistrate held out a restraining arm.
"Not so fast," he warned. "We'll be having no lovey-dovey reunions until I figure out who is to be arrested."
"No one is to be arrested," Arthur growled.
"She is going to Australia!" the countess cried out, pointing towards Gwen.
"Put me in the cell!" Penelope sighed, placing the back of her hand against her brow. "I did it!"
"Penelope, will you be quiet?" Gwen whispered. 'Trust me, you do not want to be in that cell. It's dreadful. And there are rats."
At that, Penelope started inching away from the cell.
"You will never see another invitation again in this town," Lady Pendragon said to the countess.
"I am a countess!" she hissed.
"And I am more popular," Lady Pendragon returned, the snide words so out of character that both Arthur's and Gwen's mouths dropped open.
"Enough!" the magistrate said. He turned to Penelope, then pointed to the countess as he said, "Is she your mother?"
Penelope nodded.
"And you said you stole the shoe clips?"
She nodded again.
"And no one stole her wedding ring. It's in her jewelry box at home."
No one gasped, because no one was terribly surprised...
But the countess said, nonetheless,
"It is not!"
"Your other jewelry box," Penelope clarified. "The one you keep in the third drawer from the left."
At that, the countess paled.
And the magistrate said,
"You don't seem to have a very good case against Miss Roberts, Lady Penwood."
The woman began to shake with rage, her outstretched arm quivering as she pointed one long finger at Gwen.
"She stole from me," she said in a low deadly voice before turning furious eyes on Penelope. "My daughter is lying. I do not know why, and I certainly do not know what she hopes to gain, but she is lying."
Something very uncomfortable began to churn in Gwen's stomach...
Penelope was going to be in horrible trouble when she went home. There was no telling what the countess would do in retaliation for such public humiliation.
She couldn't let Penelope take the blame for her. She had to...
"Penelope didn't..."
The words burst forth from her mouth before she had a chance to think, but she didn't manage to finish her sentence because Penelope elbowed her in the belly.
Hard.
"Did you say something?" the magistrate inquired.
Gwen shook her head, completely unable to speak. Penelope had knocked her breath clear to Scotland.
The magistrate let out a weary sigh and raked his hand through his thinning blonde hair. He looked at Penelope, then at Gwen, then the countess, then Arthur.
Lady Pendragon cleared her throat, forcing him to look at her, too...
"Clearly," the magistrate said, looking very much as if he'd rather be anywhere other than where he was. "This is about a great deal more than a stolen shoe clip."
"Shoe clips" the countess sniffed. "There were two of them."
"Regardless," the magistrate ground out. "You all obviously detest one another, and I would like to know why before I go ahead and charge anyone."
For a second, no one spoke. Then everyone spoke...
"Silence!" the magistrate roared. "You," he said, pointing at Gwen. "Start."
"Uhh..." Now that she actually had the floor, she felt terribly self-conscious.
The magistrate cleared his throat...
Loudly.
"What he said was correct," Gwen said quickly, pointing to Arthur. "I am the daughter of the Earl of Penwood, although I was never acknowledged as such."
The countess opened her mouth to say something, but the magistrate sent her such a withering glare that she kept quiet.
"I lived at Penwood Manor for seven years before she married the earl," Gwen continued, motioning to the countess. "The earl said that he was my guardian, but everyone knew the truth." She paused, remembering her father's face, and thinking that she ought not be so surprised that she couldn't picture him with a smile. "I look a great deal like him," she said.
"I knew your father," Lady Pendragon said softly. "And your aunt. It explains why I've always thought you looked so familiar."
Gwen flashed her a small, grateful smile. Something in Lady Pendragon's tone was very reassuring, and it made her feel a little warmer inside... A little more secure.
"Please continue," the magistrate said.
Gwen gave him a nod, then added,
"When the earl married the countess, she didn't want me living there, but the earl insisted. I rarely saw him, and I don't think he thought very much of me, but he did see me as his responsibility, and he wouldn't allow her to boot me out. But when he died..."
She stopped and swallowed, trying to get passed the lump in her throat. She'd never actually told her story to anyone before; the words seemed strange and foreign coming from her mouth.
"When he died," she continued. "His will specified that Lady Penwood's portion would be trebled if she kept me in her household until I turned twenty. So she did. But my position changed dramatically. I became a servant. Well, not really a servant." Gwen smiled wryly. "A servant is paid. So I was really more like a slave."
She looked over at the countess. She was standing with her arms crossed and her nose tipped in the air.
Her lips were pursed tightly, and it suddenly struck Gwen how very many times before she had seen that exact same expression on her face...
More times than she could dare to count. But enough times to have broken her soul.
Yet here she was, dirty and penniless to be sure, but with her mind and spirit still strong.
"Guinevere?" Arthur said, gazing at her with a concerned expression. "Is everything all right?"
She nodded slowly, because she was just coming to realize that everything was all right.
The man she loved had in a rather roundabout way, just asked her to marry him...
The countess was finally about to receive the drubbing she deserved at the hands of the Pendragons, no less, who would leave her in shreds by the time they were through...
And Penelope... Now that might've been the loveliest of all.
Penelope, who had always wanted to be a sister to her, who had never quite had the courage to be herself, had stood up to her mother and quite possibly saved the day... And her.
And Gwen was one hundred percent certain that if Arthur had not come and declared her as his fiancée, Penelope's testimony would've been the only thing to save her from transportation... Or maybe even execution.
But Gwen knew better than anyone that Penelope would pay dearly for her courage... The countess was probably already plotting how to make her life a living hell.
Yes, everything was all right, and Gwen suddenly found herself standing a little straighter as she said,
"Allow me to finish my story. After the earl died, Lady Penwood kept me on as her unpaid lady's maid. Although in truth I was made to do the work of three maids."
"You know, Lady Middleton said that very thing just last month!" Penelope said excitedly. "I told Mother that she..."
"Penelope, shut up!" the countess snapped.
"When I turned twenty," Gwen continued. "She didn't turn me out. To this day I don't know why..."
"I think we've heard enough," the countess said.
"I don't think we've heard nearly enough!" Arthur snapped and the countess shrank back.
Gwen looked to the magistrate for guidance. At his nod she continued...
"I can only deduce that she rather enjoyed having someone to order about. Or maybe she just liked having a maid she didn't have to pay. There was nothing left for me from my father's will."
"That's not true," Penelope blurted out.
And Gwen turned to her in shock.
"He did leave you money," Penelope insisted.
Gwen felt her jaw go slack...
"That's not possible. I had nothing. My father saw to my welfare up to age twenty, but after that..."
"After that," Penelope said rather forcefully. "You had a dowry."
"A dowry?" Gwen whispered.
"That's not true!" the countess shrilled.
"It is true," Penelope insisted. "You ought not leave incriminating evidence about, Mother. I read a copy of the earl's will last year." She turned to the rest of the room and said, "It was in the same box where she put her wedding band."
"You stole my dowry?" Gwen said, her voice barely more than breath. All these years she'd thought her father had left her with nothing.
She'd known that he'd never loved her, that he saw her as little more than his responsibility, but it had stung that he'd left dowries for Victoria and Penelope...who were not even his blood daughters...and not for her.
She'd never really thought that he'd ignored her on purpose; in all truth, she'd mostly felt... Forgotten.
Which had felt worse than a deliberate snub would have done.
"He left me a dowry," Gwen said dazedly. Then to Arthur, "I have a dowry."
"I don't care if you have a dowry," he replied. "I don't need it."
"I care," she said. "I thought he'd forgotten me. All these years I'd thought he'd written up his will and simply forgotten about me. I know he couldn't really leave money to his bastard daughter, but he'd told all the world I was his ward. So there was no reason he couldn't provide for his ward." For some reason she looked to Lady Pendragon. "He could've provided for a ward. People do that all the time."
The magistrate cleared his throat and turned on the countess,
"And what has happened to her dowry?"
She said nothing...
Lady Pendragon cleared her throat...
"I don't think it's terribly legal to embezzle a young woman's dowry," she said. Then smiled a slow, satisfied sort of smile. "Eh, Calliope?"
Stay safe!