Page 28

“ A nother public appearance, Your Grace,” Penelope teased Alexander. They had arrived at the Galston estate for the dinner, which had more than a few guests in attendance.

Isadora had left out no formalities, it seemed.

“I am well aware,” Alexander stood beside her, scanning the room as they entered. “At least, your sister will be happy to see you.”

“You loathe this sort of thing, don’t you?” Penelope asked under her breath. “I do not take you as one for socializing much.”

“Violently,” Alexander nodded. “But considering how your father ruined your last meeting, and I was responsible for sending him away, I did not wish for you to lose out on the chance to meet your sister.”

“We’ll keep our appearance brief, then,” she smiled. “And I will try to shield you from any idle conversation.”

“That might be too big of an undertaking,” Alexander chuckled. “But I’m holding you to that.”

They stepped further into the ballroom, and eyes turned toward them. Alexander’s presence always drew attention, but they were looking at not just him. But rather, the two of them together.

They were still an object of interest within the ton , that much was confirmed.

“Just a moment,” Alexander excused himself. He seemed to have spotted a friend in the distance, which surprised Penelope.

But before Penelope could stop him to ask, a tap on her back brought her attention elsewhere.

“There you are,” Isadora greeted her warmly, wrapping her in an immediate embrace. “Oh, I am so pleased that you made it. It would not have been the same without you.”

“I have promised to keep our visit short,” Penelope smiled. “But I would not miss it for anything.”

Isadora pressed her lips together. “Short?”

“Just that Alexander does not like to stay for long at these events,” Penelope explained. “And I do not wish to inconvenience him much, since he was nice enough to accompany me.”

“You seem to care very much about what he wants and what he doesn’t want,” Isadora’s tone took on a teasing tilt. She was watching her sister with playful eyes, hands folded across her chest. “Shall we find a place to gossip?”

“Gossip?” Penelope laughed, taken aback by the blunt request.

“Only about your own life,” Isadora grinned. “I wish to know everything that is new. We have not gotten the chance to speak properly ever since the ceremony.”

Penelope nodded. It would be nice to be away from listening ears for a bit. Isadora led her to the far end of the room. Once there, she didn’t waste time.

“You’re smitten.”

“Sorry…” Penelope blinked. “What?”

“Oh, come now,” Isadora whispered, her eyes sparkling with glee. “I saw the way you were looking at him when the two of you came in.”

“You had your sights set on me?”

“Of course,” Isadora laughed. “I have been curious to know how things are going between the two of you for long.”

“And you somehow came to the conclusion that I am smitten only by looking at us from afar?”

“Well, that,” Isadora grinned. “And just how you speak of him. It is a rather obvious thing, honestly. For the both of you.”

Penelope’s cheeks flooded with color, and she did not know what to make of her sister’s little observation. Surely, she was making up a fantasy in her head.

“You are quite imaginative,” Penelope said softly. “Really. I am in awe of the stories you have fathomed all on your own.”

Isadora hit her playfully on the shoulder, “ You are downplaying it, which is what I would expect you to do.”

Penelope crossed her arms. “Don’t be ridiculous now.”

“Never doubt a sister’s intuition,” Isadora grinned widely. “I can tell, even when you do not see it for yourself.”

“You seem to have great confidence in your abilities,” Penelope exclaimed.

“Oh, I have never been wrong about these things,” Isadora nodded.

“I don’t know what it is,” Penelope confessed at last, biting down on her lip. “At first, he would only infuriate me a great deal. In fact, he contradicts everything I think I know about affection. He’s different from how we are.”

“That is not a bad thing,” Isadora mused. “It would be rather boring if the two of you were exactly the same.”

“Yes, but often it means that we do not see things the same way,” Penelope admitted. “But I will say that he makes an effort to listen more now.”

Isadora was beaming now.

“How wonderful,” she said, almost as if she was on the verge of tearing up. “That really is a lovely thing. He looks at you like he cares about what you say.”

“Stop it,” Penelope laughed. “You cannot tell that surely.”

“I’m only saying what the whole room is whispering.”

“They are not.”

“They are,” Isadora said cheerfully. “People are rather quite eager to comment on your marriage. I was told by someone that they are quite pleasantly surprised to see Alexander talk so much when he is with you. He is known for being someone who is not a fan of speaking until he has to.”

“Well…” Penelope did not quite know what to make of that information.

“That is a good sign. It means that he returns the feelings you have for him.”

Penelope felt a warmth creeping up her neck. “I’m not falling for him.”

“Oh, you are well past that point now,” Isadora said smugly. “You just haven’t noticed yet.”

Before Penelope could reply, a man approached them.

“I hope I’m not interrupting something,” he said, smiling brightly.

Penelope looked between the man and Isadora in surprise.

“Duke of Redhaven,” he went on, “Old friend of Alexander’s. Pleasure to finally meet you, Your Grace.”

“Oh,” Penelope said. She did not expect to meet any of his friends at the dinner. “The pleasure is mine, Your Grace.”

“Please, Oliver will do just fine. I’ve known Alexander too long to bear the burden of formality,” he continued . “You seem rather surprised to see me. Is this a bad time?”

“No, no,” Penelope said, shaking her head. “It is just that..”

“He never mentioned me to you, did he?” Oliver chuckled. “I would not be surprised if that were the case. He is a rather mysterious lad, if I may say so myself.”

Penelope let out a chuckle at that.

“He certainly does like to keep to himself.”

“That’s putting it delicately,” Oliver said with a grin. “He’s a closed book. But I do have the privilege of reading a page or two now and then.”

“Do you spend much time together?” she asked.

“More than most,” he replied. “Which is to say, perhaps once a week. I daresay I might be the only friend who sees him with any consistency.”

“That’s a surprise,” Penelope said thoughtfully. “He does not speak much of his friends.”

“He does not speak much about anything,” Oliver laughed. “The man likes to keep to himself.”

“Were you with him the other night?” Penelope asked, suddenly remembering.

Oliver raised a brow. “Which night are you speaking about?”

“The one—” she hesitated, eyes narrowing slightly as she tried to keep her tone even. “The one where he got injured. His hand. Was that with you?”

“So you noticed?” A knowing smile curved across Oliver’s face.

“What do you mean noticed ?”

He gave a triumphant shake of his head. “Nothing at all, Your Grace. Only that I’ve just won a rather ridiculous bet.”

“What bet?” Penelope’s brows drew together in confusion, and then she looked at Isadora – who was merely watching the conversation unfold.

“You’ll forgive me if I don’t divulge the terms. It would ruin the sport of it,” Oliver laughed. “But I am glad that you mentioned this to me. Truly. To answer your question, though, yes I was there.”

She gave him a suspicious look. He was not making much sense.

“Hope you did not worry too much about him,” he went on. “Alexander knows how to handle these situations well.”

“Did he deserve it? The man he...” Penelope could not bring herself to complete the sentence.

“Oh, he deserved worse. Your Grace, Alexander is many things but he is not an unjust man,” Oliver shrugged. “I would argue, rather, that his sense of justice is one of the strongest things about his personality. Much to the point that it gets overbearing.”

“That is hardly a bad thing,” Penelope mused, feeling strangely reassured.

“No, it really isn’t,” Oliver nodded in agreement. “But he does not shy away from trouble either, I shall tell you that. I’m hoping you soften him up a bit.”

“Oh, I am trying,” Penelope admitted, blushing. It felt refreshing to speak to someone who knew what Alexander was like. “How come he has never invited you over to the house before? I have a feeling that I can learn a great deal about my husband just by speaking with you.”

“That might be precisely why he hasn’t invited me,” Oliver chuckled loudly.

“Because you’d give away all his secrets?”

“Exactly. I’m far too chatty for his liking,” he said, “He prefers his mystique. I ruin it simply by existing.”

“I quite like the idea of ruining his mystique,” Penelope laughed, unable to help herself.

“I suspected you might. We will get along swimmingly, in that case,” Oliver said, “But truthfully, he’s always been private about the people he cares for. He doesn’t like the idea of them becoming someone else’s business.”

“That sounds just like him,” she murmured, thinking about Odette. Though it occurred to her then that he was the same way about her. Could that mean that he had grown to care about her? She looked over at Isadora, who was smiling knowingly.

A sister’s intuition, as she had put it.

What do they even have to speak about?

Across the room, Alexander’s gaze was fixed in the direction of his wife. The conversation around him droned on, but none of it reached him. His fingers curled tightly around the stem of his glass, the pressure so great he was half-certain it might crack under his grip.

Penelope was laughing at something Oliver had said. Something idiotic, in all likelihood, he thought to himself.

It burned him. An annoying, gnawing sensation that he could not place but could not ignore either.