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“ R idiculous,” a muffled groan escaped Penelope’s lips. “Absolutely, ridiculous.”

The clock had turned well past twelve, and still Penelope was not able to catch even a wink of sleep. She flopped onto her back, irked by her inability to sleep.

Penelope rolled onto her side. Then her other side. Then her stomach. Then back again. It was as though she was stuck inside some endless, miserable loop.

“Enough,” she announced, sitting up in her bed. There was no use trying to fight herself like this.

The best she could do was to distract herself in the meantime , and tire herself out. Putting on her robe, she made her way out of her room, stopping only briefly outside the duke’s door.

“I bet he’s sleeping like a stone,” she muttered bitterly. “Unbothered by the havoc he seems to have wreaked on my life.”

It was true. He was impossibly calm about everything, and it seemed that nothing at all bothered him.

For a brief second, she contemplated knocking on his door, so that he could lie awake, too. But she quickly decided against it.

Instead, she made her way over to the end of the hallway, where there was a flicker of light beneath the door to the library.

She stopped immediately.

“Strange,” she said to herself. She was not the only one having trouble sleeping tonight, it seemed.

Penelope could have walked past, leaving whoever it was inside undisturbed. But curiosity got the best of her, and she could not help but peek her head inside.

“Is someone there?”

No answer.

She waited a moment, then tried again, louder this time. “Who is there?”

Again, there was no response. She reached out slowly and pushed open the door.

Indeed, someone was inside there. There was a candle lit and placed neatly on one of the tables, though the chair remained empty. Whoever was there a moment ago had suddenly made themselves scarce.

“If this is someone’s idea of a jest, I do hope it ends quickly,” she said out loud.

The sound of a book falling to the floor caught her attention, and startled her at the same time. It had come from behind one of the taller bookshelves. Her eyes darted toward the shadowed aisle.

“What is the use in hiding?” she asked again, “I can clearly see someone else is here.”

It was scary to venture into the library at an hour that was this late. She did not know what would find her, but then again, she had to remind herself that she was a married woman now.

What sort of married woman found herself scared of ghosts? She was no longer a child. So with hesitant steps forward, she made her way over. If anything, this should provide the much needed distraction she wanted . Not something to be scared of.

“Show yourself,” she said again. “I do not mean any harm.”

A small yelp followed her statement, and from behind one of the shelves, a slim figure stumbled into view.

Penelope blinked, surprised.

“Odette?”

The girl stood frozen, a candle wobbling in her hand and wide eyes fixed on Penelope.

“I—” Odette straightened quickly, trying to hide the fact that she had been so frightened just a moment ago. Her speech was coming out in quick spurts, as though she had been caught doing something entirely wrong. “I just came to read. I wasn’t doing anything terrible.”

“I didn’t say you were,” Penelope said slowly, surprised by how defensive the young one was being. It was quite the shift from her usual confident and unruly self.

“Then why did you yell?” Odette huffed, narrowing her eyes.

“I called out,” Penelope corrected gently, eyeing the young girl with curiosity. “Twice. You didn’t answer.”

“I didn’t hear,” Odette said, though it was blatant that she was lying. “Besides, you sounded like the ghost of some deranged maid.”

Penelope’s mouth twisted upwards into an expression of amusement.

“You don’t need to be so scared of me,” she said . “Nor did I mean to disrupt your midnight adventure.”

“Well, you did,” Odette muttered under her breath and turned sharply as if intending to flee, but as she did, Penelope noticed the book on the floor.

“Wait—” Penelope stooped to pick it up.

“No!” Odette exclaimed, lunging forward to get to it.

But she was not fast enough. Penelope had already caught sight of the title. A faint smile curled across her lips.

“ A Scandal in Springtime ,” she read aloud, her brow arching. “Is that why you are behaving so oddly?”

Well, even more odd than she usually did. Which was truly saying something.

“It is nothing,” the young girl tried to cover, blushing now.

“I must say, I didn’t take you for the romantic sort,” Penelope noted. Was she embarrassed of her reading choices?

Now, that was really interesting. Penelope decided that she was not going to let go of it so easily.

“I’m not,” Odette said immediately, snatching at the book, but Penelope stepped back, holding it just out of reach.

“No?” Penelope teased. “So then what explains this reaction of yours? If I did not know any better, I would think that you do not wish for anyone to know about your reading appetite.”

“I just picked it up randomly,” Odette muttered, rolling her eyes . “I didn’t even know what it was about.”

“Right,” Penelope chuckled, “You just happened to stumble upon a very well-used copy of this book and thought that this is what you must read at this hour.”

Odette tried to snatch the book again, but Penelope darted behind one of the chairs, laughing.

“Give it back!” Odette demanded, chasing her now.

“Absolutely not,” Penelope called over her shoulder, dodging her easily. “Not until you admit that you do enjoy a good romance .”

“I don’t!” Odette huffed, though she was laughing now, too.

“Don’t lie to a duchess,” Penelope grinned. “It’s terribly bad form.”

“You’re not even a real duchess,” Odette said, narrowing her eyes.

“I am,” Penelope gasped with mock offense. “Certainly more real than the duchess you are reading about in your novel. A good choice, I might add.”

Odette paused for a moment. “You’ve read this book before?”

“Why do you seem surprised?” Penelope grinned, delighted to have the upper hand for once.

“It’s just that…” Odette hesitated, “well, I do not know anyone else that likes to read these novels.”

“I am happy that you are at least admitting to yourself that you like them,” Penelope gloated.

“I didn’t admit anything,” the young girl scowled.

“You did,” Penelope sang. “And I’m very proud of you. The first step is acceptance.”

Odette looked like she might argue, but then restrained herself.

“I just think they’re… easy to read.”

“Of course,” Penelope said, teasingly. “And nothing else, surely?”

“I also…” Odette hesitated, “well, I like the banter. It is fun to read it, I suppose.”

“A woman after my own heart,” Penelope said, eyes lighting up. “Now that is a proper admission.”

The girl made a soft noise of protest and turned slightly away. Penelope felt her heart sink. This was the most conversation that they had made, ever. She had to make the most of it, while she still had the chance.

“You know,” she said gently, “when I was your age, I wasn’t allowed to read anything more exciting than a sermon or a dull history book.

I used to sneak romances under my pillow and read them by candlelight.

We did not have a library as large as yours while growing up, though I suspect that I might have been an ever greater menace if I did. ”

That seemed to catch her attention. “Did you never get caught?”

“Once or twice, maybe,” Penelope grinned. “I was really careful. Even Isadora, my older sister, was none the wiser.”

Penelope drew particular satisfaction in watching the surprise flicker across the young girl’s face.

“What?” Penelope asked. “Did you not think me capable?”

Odette pressed her lips together, “You can say that.”

It was as though she was seeing Penelope in a brand new light, for the first time.

Penelope took a tentative step forward. For the first time, she had her right where she wanted.

“I have a collection of my own, you know,” she started, trying not to sound too eager. “Dozens. If you liked this one, I think you’d enjoy some of my favorites.”

Odette gave her a sideways glance, eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“Why are you being nice to me?”

“Because I like you,” Penelope answered simply. It was not the full truth, yet. But she would will it into existence, if anything.

“You don’t know me.”

“Not yet,” she agreed. “But I’d very much like to.”

Odette said nothing, but she didn’t turn away either. Penelope took that as a sign of encouragement.

“So,” Penelope said brightly, “what if we strike a bargain?”

“What sort of bargain are you talking about?”

“I lend you a new book tomorrow morning. But only if you join me for breakfast.”

The girl frowned.

“I do not like to have company while having my breakfast,” she frowned.

“Too bad. Those are my terms,” Penelope asserted herself gently. “Besides, you don’t even have to talk much. You can sulk and scowl all you like. I’m quite used to it by now.”

“I don’t sulk,” Odette muttered.

Penelope laughed out loud at that, not even bothering to correct her.

“If the book is terrible, I’m leaving halfway through breakfast,” Odette finally agreed, albeit begrudgingly.

“Deal.”

That was all that she needed. A start.

“Sleep well now,” Penelope grinned. “I will see you tomorrow.”

Penelope was the first one at the table the next morning. She was unusually chirpy this morning. In front of her, there was a book she had carefully selected.

Now all she had to do was wait for Odette to hold her side of the bargain.

She turned to the butler, who stood at attention near the door.

“Please ensure a place is set for Lady Odette as well.”

The butler cleared his throat, “Begging Your Grace’s pardon, but the young lady prefers to take her breakfast in her chambers.”

“Yes, I am aware. But today, she is expected,” Penelope smirked.

The butler hesitated at her confidence. But just as he opened his mouth to gently object, the sound of footsteps interrupted him. Both Penelope and the butler turned.