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In the days that Penny prepared to leave Thornbury Hall, Rhysand was nowhere to be found. But Penny knew he was in the house. She felt his presence everywhere she went. It was as though he was a ghost looming around the house because he was treated unfairly when he was alive.

To Patrick's dismay, Penny had refused to return to her father’s house. She was a married woman, not a divorcee or a widow. She refused to live as though her husband were dead. He was not.

Penny scoffed.

He had been the same man who claimed what they shared was special since his ring sat atop her finger, and that she was his forever. Now, she stared at the ring with anger and longing. She could not bring herself to hate the man even when she told herself she should.

At least he had been generous with her thirteen-acre estate, which possessed twenty bedrooms, an entire staff, and three carriages. He had ensured she was settled and did not lack a thing, just like he said he would. The estate did not have one black piece of furniture, and a garden was in the works. It was as though he was mocking her.

It had been three weeks since she moved into her new home with Aunt Augusta and Lydia, who claimed they could never live apart from her, especially not after the hard times they spent together. Penny knew it was because they did not trust her to stay alone. She could not complain. She was pregnant and needed the company.

For all she cared, Rhysand was in some country somewhere, doing whatever he liked with the likes of Lady Madeline or any other mistress.

Patrick visited often.

True to Rhysand’s words, he had paid off all her father’s debts, but her father had not been released yet for reasons unbeknownst to her. When she asked Patrick about it, he claimed it was not a matter she had to worry herself over; he would take care of it.

Patrick had apologized vehemently and promised to make up for his months of absence through months of attendance. He had followed through with his promise, stopping by to see Penny and his niece— as he firmly believed Penny would give birth to a girl— whom he loved dearly without having met her.

“Why do you look like that?” Patrick attacked Penny upon entering her drawing room.

“What do I look like, brother?”

“Like you have been thinking about that arse.” Patrick had a foul tongue which was no surprise. His was worse because he claimed he was a man and could use whatever indecent words he liked.

“I have not!” Penny was quick to defend herself, causing her face to heat up. Patrick shook his head.

“How long will it be before you forget him?”

“I do not think you can see that his child is currently growing in my belly.” She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Forgive me. I tend to be forgetful.”

Penny nodded. “You also seem to have lost some hair. You are aging badly, brother. You should hurry and find yourself a bride before all of your hair falls out.”

Patrick narrowed his eyes at her and nodded. He deserved that one.

“I find it hard to believe he left the country. Such a coward!”

“I see why you two are friends.” Penny leaned over, took the China teacup, and brought it to her lips.

“We are not friends anymore.”

“The similarity is uncanny though.” Patrick laughed at Penny’s implication. “I believe I would have ended up a pregnant widow had the duel worked and you shot him.”

Rhysand had left the country when he saw that Penny was settled. He never went close to her but ensured everything was set from afar. It was the perks of being a duke. Like Patrick, he had not stated where he was traveling to. Not even Angleton knew, which meant he had planned to run away.

Penny had cried all night when she found out. She claimed it was her fault he was leaving. Aunt Augusta and Lydia took turns sleeping with her at night. The midwife Rhysand had hired claimed Penny was full of emotions because of the pregnancy, but Penny thought otherwise. She knew the emptiness in her heart and her longing for a man she wanted who would not let himself love her.

All Penny could do was channel her love to her unborn child, who seemed to be growing quite healthily.

Rhysand’s absence had also been felt by the Ton. The week he had traveled, not many people noticed, but by the second week, side glances had been thrown in Penny’s direction.

They claimed no man purchased a property for his pregnant wife and went away on business for so long, but Penny was quick to tell them Rhysand’s journey had been by sea, and such the journey was bound to be long, and she could not live in Thornbury Hall all alone.

A beat passed between the brother and sister.

“Will you be in attendance for the marchioness’s birthday celebration?” Penny asked, and Patrick shook his head. The Marchioness of Farrington prepared a huge ball to celebrate her fiftieth birthday, and important members of the Ton were invited.