Chapter Text
And, of course, as we depart London this season, we might finally get a glimpse of Lord and Lady Debling. It was a surprise that this most surprising pair chose to spend their honeymoon in London and not on the Earl's vast estate. The newlyweds have not left their house a single day since their wedding, nor have they entertained a single visitor – not even Lady Featherington or her daughters, who undoubtedly miss their daughter and sister.
Rumour has it that Lord Debling, a man with an affinity for nature, has delayed his much-anticipated three-year-long excursion by half a month to spend more time with his wife before he departs. Such dedication to marital bliss is indeed commendable, especially for a man so passionately devoted to his botanical pursuits.
One must wonder if, after such a prolonged time together, there will be an announcement of a new Debling heir in the coming months? Although, given that her sisters enjoyed a more prolonged period with their husbands before such blessings, only time will tell if Lady Debling will follow suit.
Penelope breathed in deep, keeping her eyes closed as she heard the sound of her door opening, but the sound of it closing certainly made her open her eyes.
The room was still dark but… her bed was warm. Differently warm, strangely warm.
She sat up, confused, and froze when she turned to her side and realised that was her husband there, fast asleep, facing up.
Oh.
Of course.
She rubbed her eyes, trying to tame the morning mess of her hair. She remembered now. She had asked him to stay a bit longer last night, and they had fallen asleep together. Had he noticed they had drifted off on her bed?
Penelope took another deep breath, watching him. His hair was a little messy, and her fingers itched to touch it, to pet it.
Well, she… she enjoyed being married. More than she imagined she would, actually.
Alfred was very kind, very gentle and their marriage was everything he had promised.
They had breakfast and dinner together, and she didn’t need to explain herself to him—he asked about her day, and she shared a few bits, and he took it without prying.
If he had noticed Madam Delacroix’s visits after she mentioned needing some adjustments to her dresses, he didn’t seem to mind – and of course, with the little fact she had figured out a few weeks ago, then he would know she was indeed in need of a more… adaptive wardrobe.
The visits kept her business going as usual, though there wasn’t much to write about for Lady Whistledown. Maybe next year there would be more to gossip about.
Alfred breathed deeply, adjusting on her bed, still fast asleep, and she rested her head on her pillow.
He was leaving today. After breakfast with her whole family – the first time they were actually coming to her new home.
She never knew she would miss them, but… well, Mama and her sisters were good at filling up silence, especially with things she didn’t need to pay attention to.
Penelope highly suspected they would have to be the ones filling up her silence in the next three years. Of course, she had different hopes.
She’d bled exactly once since marrying Alfred, and while they were not holding high hopes – well, she wasn’t and he didn’t seem to express much about it – there was a chance she wouldn’t spend the next three years alone.
It was so strange. She always knew he was going to leave, even with his short delay – caused by a few reasons, according to himself, even if she knew she had to embellish it for the paper – and was settled with it. But now that she was looking at him for the last time in three years, she didn’t want him to go.
In fact, Penelope felt the strangest urge. She wanted to lock the house down, get rid of his luggage, break all the carriages, rip all his clothes, hide his itinerary, tie him up, and hide in her study until he was tired of the idea and decided to stay.
The thought made her lips curl down and her throat knot up.
How unfair and ugly of her, to want to keep him from his plans!
Penelope shook her head, trying to dispel the desperate thoughts. Alfred had his dreams and ambitions, and she always knew that, it was not fair to even think about keeping him.
Yet, it made her heart ache to watch him like that, knowing he needed to leave.
He squirmed a bit as if about to wake up, and her eyes widened right before she closed them and positioned herself on the bed, breathing slowly, relaxing, pretending to be still asleep.
Penelope felt him moving and heard Alfred’s deep exhale as he seemed to finally wake up, and there was a moment of silence before her husband’s hand caressed her cheek, and it was so hard to keep her eyes closed and her lips from curling in a smile.
Alfred tucked her hair behind her ear and pulled away, and she heard him moving around her bedroom, probably taking his things, and he opened and closed her doors very softly and slowly, probably not to wake her up.
She stayed in there for a bit, until her door opened again, and opened her eyes when Rae opened her curtains.
“Good morning, Lady Debling,” she greeted her.
“Good morning, Rae.”
The familiar routine of Rae helping her dress and prepare for the day felt like a good moment to steady herself and work through the strange feelings in her gut.
When she came down, the house was already buzzing with activity, with the servants preparing for the family breakfast, people working on the last preparations for the excursion, and Mrs Selby walking around, commanding everyone.
Tomorrow, Penelope would also depart to her husband's estate – a trip of three days by carriage. The trip could be made in two days, but Alfred had insisted they took three days to make the pace better for her, so she wouldn’t tire herself out.
She made it down just in time to meet the butler, and he seemed relieved to have her presence.
“Lady Debling,” he bowed discreetly. “Your family has just arrived.”
Penelope stood by the door just as they opened it, and caught sight of her mother leaving her carriage with Prudence and Mr Dankworth, followed by another carriage with her Philippa and Mr Finch.
Well, they looked… the same.
“Penelope, darling,” Mama greeted her, though her eyes were on everywhere except on Penelope’s face.
She could see the wonder in her eyes while she explored every inch of the room she could possibly look at from her spot, climbing the stairs.
“Good morning, mama,” she greeted back anyway.
They exchanged polite kisses just as she caught her sisters whispering with their husbands.
“Where’s your husband?” her mother asked.
Before Penelope could answer, she heard his heavy steps descending the stairs. Alfred's footsteps were always distinct; she could find him anywhere since they got married.
“Lady Featherington,” he greeted from afar.
Finally, on cue, her family lined up as she turned to catch sight of him.
“Lord Debling,” her mother greeted him.
“Mr and Mrs Finch,” he greeted, stopping by Penelope. “Mr and Mrs Darnkworth.”
Everyone greeted him back politely just as he reached for her hand gently, almost instinctively.
“Welcome to our home,” he said, as Penelope took his hand.
“Quite the beautiful home,” her mother praised. “I wish I had the chance to visit before your departure.”
Penelope wrapped her arm around his, feeling her face pinking.
“Won’t you look at that,” Prudence spoke, bringing their attention to her.
She seemed a bit gobsmacked where she was looking, and when Penelope followed her gaze, she could see why.
Their painting.
Alfred had commissioned a painter to do it for them – two paintings of them, one for their Mayfair home and one for his estate – along with a small painting of Penelope her husband seemed to wish to carry around.
“Our painting,” Penelope breathed out. “To celebrate our marriage.”
The only sight of him she would have for the next three years.
He had chosen her dress for it – green, he loved seeing her in green.
“Earl and Countess Debling,” her mother exhaled, prouder than she had ever heard her.
Philippa grimaced, but Penelope kept her look of pride. That was, until she caught the smell of peach from somewhere and her stomach soured.
“If you’ll excuse me for a moment,” she swallowed down, trying to keep herself from throwing up right there. “Mrs Selby is going to show you the way.”
She let her husband go, making her way out into whichever room she could find, and grabbed an empty vase to vomit into, and was surprised to find a fan right next to it to clear her air with.
She closed her eyes, resting against a wall, but opened them, surprised at the sight of her husband.
“Penelope,” he breathed out. “Are you well?”
Penelope swallowed down, still fanning herself.
“Yes,” she assured him. “Just a little bit nauseous.”
His lips twitched up, but she could see how he was obviously trying not to smile.
Oh, wasn’t he quite the pleasant sight.
“Go on, I know it’s amusing,” she fanned herself.
“What was it?” he asked in a gentle voice.
She looked at the arch. Oh, they were down in a corridor.
“Peaches,” she exhaled, rolling her eyes.
Alfred nodded seriously.
“I’ll ask Mrs Selby to get rid of them all,” he assured her, very serious. “Here and in our estate. No peaches.”
Penelope’s face felt hot. She was so nauseous those days, the faintest of the wrong smells and she was doomed – and morning sickness was not just reserved for mornings.
“At this rate, we’ll be banning everything with a scent,” she breathed out. “I will be eating only boiled potatoes for months.”
He chuckled, and she glared at him in response, but her husband’s face was so soft she couldn’t be angry with him.
“It’s only for another couple of months,” he assured her. “You won’t even remember it once it is gone.”
Penelope nodded, exhaling. He was right.
They waited a bit of time, and he offered her his arm.
“Shall we?” her husband asked.
She took it. Her family was waiting.
They walked off together, and she caught sight of Philippa walking back inside, rushing straight to her in a beeline.
“May I have your peaches?” she asked eagerly.
Penelope paused.
“You have peach trees!” her sister explained. “I want your peaches.”
Penelope looked up at Alfred, who seemed equally amused by the situation. Well, that problem had solved itself.
“All of them,” she agreed. “You can bring them home.”
Philippa clapped, squealing happily and walking off, leaving them again.
“I’ll speak to Mrs Selby,” her husband told her. “She’s Mrs Dankworth?”
“Finch,” Penelope corrected him. “Prudence is the tall one.”
He nodded simply, letting her go, and when Penelope walked into the garden, her sister was already sitting down with Mr Finch.
“I’m talking the peaches home!” she announced.
“Penelope,” Mama called. “Where’s Lord Debling?”
“Speaking to Mrs Selby,” she sat down. “About Philippa’s peaches.”
Her mother looked puzzled for a moment but then shook her head, smiling.
“Well, it seems you’re adjusting quite well to married life, my dear,” she praised, leaning closer to her. “And have you seen the results of such a long time of effort?”
Penelope’s eyes widened.
What?
“Do you have anything to tell me?” mama pressed her. “Any news?”
Her face burned. Was this what Prudence and Philippa had to deal with?!
“Mama,” she protested.
“Your husband is travelling for three years,” her mother continued. “You must know today was your last chance to actually bore any— Lord Debling,” she interrupted herself.
Penelope looked up, relieved, as her husband offered her mother a polite smile.
“Lady Featherington,” he greeted warmly. “I hope I didn’t take long?”
“We were discussing your imminent departure,” her mother said, redirecting the conversation. “Such an extensive journey… it must be quite the undertaking.”
Alfred inclined his head respectfully, taking a seat beside Penelope.
“Indeed, Lady Featherington. It is a significant commitment, but one I have been preparing for a long time. And it calms me to know my dear wife will be here to take care of everything while I’m away.”
Her mother smiled.
“And we will be sure to take care of Penelope,” she affirmed.
They fell quietly into silence
A comfortable silence settled over them as everyone enjoyed the morning sun and the beautifully tended garden. Penelope glanced at her family as her sisters looked around with curiosity, not even looking at the meal when they were served breakfast.
“I can give you a tour of the garden if you wish,” Penelope offered them. “When we are done.”
Prudence looked at her with actual interest.
“We’ll see where you actually keep your flowers!” she celebrated.
Penelope shook her head to herself, unsurprised.
The pleasant aroma of fresh pastries and brewed tea wafted through the air and that seemed enough to get their attention.
The table was set beautifully, with fruits, bread, and various spreads and everyone seemed finally happy to eat. That extended into their walk through the garden, probably because Alfred was right there introducing the place to all of them.
But eventually, it was time to leave.
Something in her felt so wrong when she caught sight of the carriages outside the door.
Penelope would like to not know what the feeling was, but she did. She had felt it before, that longing for something to undo itself and for time to reverse: When Colin was leaving years ago, after Papa died. Oh, how much pain she felt, watching him hop on his horse and go, how much she’d wished she could run after him and stop him.
But this felt even worse, if it made any sense.
Colin was away for less than a year, and Alfred was leaving for three whole years.
So much could happen in that time.
And it was worse than her childish infatuation, he was her husband.
When she married him, Penelope had settled with knowing she would be left alone and was happy about it.
But now, after those three months, she really wished he didn’t have to go.
“Penelope?”
She turned to her side, finding Alfred waiting for her.
“Are you well?” he asked.
She nodded quickly, reaching for his hand without thinking, and he took it, still keeping his eyes on her face.
“I am,” she assured him. “I’m only… thinking.”
Her husband waited and watched her quietly.
“Have you packed everything you need?” she asked, covering up her feelings. “Are you certain everything is prepared?”
Alfred exhaled, his beautiful lips curling into a sweet little smile..
“I do,” he assured her. “Everything was verified thrice. We have everything we need.”
Penelope lowered her eyes, nodding quietly.
“Of course,” she squeezed his hand. “I suppose we should go down now. Everyone is waiting.”
She was ready to go when he squeezed her hand, holding her in place, and Penelope felt her whole body softening when she caught his eyes watching her face.
“May I have a kiss from my wife before I have to say goodbye?” he requested.
Penelope exhaled, stepping back to him, and when Alfred raised her hand to kiss her knuckles, she reached for his face to caress it gently.
He leaned in, and she rested her hands on his shoulders before getting on her tiptoes, and kissing his lips softly.
One last kiss, and then three years apart.
He pulled back, but she didn’t let him go, kissing him once more. And when she let him go, Alfred just wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her for a third time.
They were interrupted, sadly, by the sound of a throat being cleared, and Mr Hawthorne had his eyes down when Penelope looked back at him.
“Sir, ma’am,” he bowed respectfully.
Her husband pulled away, still holding her as he turned to their butler.
“You requested I tell you once the team was ready for departure,” he spoke up. “They are only waiting for you.”
Penelope felt Alfred exhaling, and he nodded simply.
“We’ll be down in a minute.”
The man confirmed, stepping away and leaving them be.
“You should go,” she told him. “You have a schedule.”
Her husband had an itinerary he needed and intended to follow as closely as possible. Indeed, she even had the exact dates he intended to arrive at various places, so she could send her letters accordingly. He lowered his hand to rest it on her belly, freed by her short stays, though nothing had changed in her body yet aside from the restless nausea.
“I’ll write as often as I can,” he told her. “And I’m eager to hear all news about the two of you.”
“I’ll write you back,” she squeezed his hand. “
He leaned in again and kissed her forehead, breathing out and then in deep.
“I shall go,” he decided after a moment, but didn’t move.
Penelope closed her eyes, still feeling his warm breath against her forehead.
“I’ll miss you,” he whispered, half confessional.
“I’ll miss you too.”
At last, Alfred stepped away and guided her down, holding her hand. They joined her family in the foyer, and Penelope didn’t let him go, even when the doors were opened and they made their way down the stairs to his carriage. They stood there, facing one another, until she was the strong one and took her hand from his slowly, stepping back, and the pit in her stomach grew more.
“Have a good journey,” she wished him in a soft voice. “I’ll wait for you daily.”
Her husband nodded sadly.
“I’ll remember you every step of the way,” he told her. "I'll come home safe and sound, I promise."
Penelope stepped back, and, at last, his carriage started, and she stood there, feeling a string being pulled and pulled at her.
Oh, dear, she would indeed miss him.
She sniffed, just once, and recomposed herself, blinking her wet eyes away.
It wasn’t that she had any love for him, it was merely… well, he was her husband. And he wasn’t bad to live with.
And he was spending three years away.
That was all.
And she was sensitive, of course. They said carrying a child did that to women.
Besides, it would be no good for her to start telling herself she had great feelings for him, they were not in a romance book.
Still, she didn’t move as she watched him go away until each and every carriage was out of her sight, and a moment more.
She turned back and entered her gates again, and while Prudence looked distracted, Philippa had the decency to give her a sad smile and look at Mr Finch, probably thinking of herself in the same situation.
“Well, now we just hope that you did your job well and you’re now carrying the heir of the Earldom of Debling right there,” mama spoke up, sounding frustrated.
Penelope’s neck snapped in her direction.
“Mama!” she snapped in disbelief. “I have just said goodbye to my husband for three years, won’t you give me some grace?”
Couldn’t she have one moment of respect?!
Apparently not, because she turned to look at her with a look of exasperation.
“Penelope, you must know that your position-”
“Is all you care about,” she spoke up. “Yes, I know.”
Mama froze, looking at her with the widest eyes, and Penelope steeled herself.
It was harsh, yes, but it was the truth. The only way she ever got an ounce of attention from her was by marrying an Earl, and now she was already coming to tell her of all things wrong she was doing.
And once she told her she was pregnant, then she would be tormenting her about having a boy.
Penelope breathed in deep and caught sight of Mrs Selby looking at her with a frown, but she softened it the moment she realised Penelope had caught her, quickly looking away from her.
“I’m travelling to Debling estate tomorrow,” she informed them, raising her dress and climbing her steps. “I must rest. Thank you for your visit, I’ll be sending the peaches later today.”
