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“ N obody denies a duke,” Penelope muttered to herself, grumpily. She sat alone in the drawing room of her estate, having been dropped there by Alexander.

Her father was nowhere to be seen. He had scarcely spoken to her since she returned that night. Only to yell at her for tarnishing his reputation.

Of course, Alexander had been correct in his statement. Her father did not deny a duke, and he agreed to the wedding. But he had made no secret that he was unhappy about the decision.

Penelope tried her hardest to remain calm, but her nerves were all over the place. Her life had changed so rapidly within the span of only a few days.

Alexander had not wasted any time and had arranged for an expedited marriage license. Within a week of meeting him for the first time, she was to marry him today. It was a small ceremony with barely any invited guests and no fanfare.

“My darling, relax your shoulders,” Isadora’s voice was calming . She walked to her sister. “I cannot tell if you are planning to bolt out the door again.”

Penelope shot her a look. “Mind you, the thought has crossed my mind.”

Isadora had been incredibly understanding about the whole thing. Instead of blaming her, she had tried to make her feel better. Penelope was more than grateful.

“Then nip that rogue thought in the bud,” Isadora laughed. “I do not think you will manage to get yourself out of trouble twice in a row.”

“Have I managed to get myself out of trouble, though?” Penelope questioned. “I have agreed to marriage with a man whom I know next to nothing about, only to escape marriage from an even worse man.”

“It is too soon to say,” Isadora sighed, understanding the desperate situation her sister had found herself in. “But he is a duke, and at least your future will be secure.”

Penelope shook her head. She had never wanted to marry only for the sake of securing a future.

“I used to believe I could marry for love. But now it feels as though I’m simply being passed from one man’s will to another.”

“You are being too hard on yourself, Penelope. ” Isadora took her sister’s hand into her own.

“I am not sure I see things the way you do,” Penelope gave her a sideways glance.

“You are not being simply passed on,” Isadora said gently, “this time, you walked into it with your eyes wide open. You ran from a marriage that you did not wish to be in. It was a choice. And you still have choices even in a marriage of convenience.”

“You say that with much confidence.”

“It turned out to be true in my experience,” Isadora smiled. “Now, please. I cannot stand to see you so upset. Smile for me, at the very least.”

Penelope managed a feeble smile. “Happy?”

“Happy that you are trying,” Isadora planted a soft kiss on her sister’s forehead.

“I know that face,” she said. “It’s the same one you wore whenever father chided you.”

“That face was one of rebellion. This—” she motioned to herself, “ is one of resignation.”

“You exaggerate dreadfully.”

“I do not,” Penelope said, arms crossing over her chest. “In a matter of hours, I shall belong to a man I hardly know. One week ago, I had never even spoken to him.”

“Then tell me of this duke instead.”

Penelope hesitated. Her fingers curled around the embroidered edge of the handkerchief in her lap.

“He is... commanding,” she said at last. “And maddening.”

A knock on the door interrupted them. A maid stepped in, curtseying quickly. “My lady, the carriage from His Grace has arrived.”

Penelope sat up, her heart suddenly pounding in her ears.

Isadora held out her hand. “Come, then. Let us see what kind of trouble you’re getting into.”

“I do hope this marriage doesn’t require as much running as the last one.”

“You are marrying a duke who owns a gentleman’s club,” Isadora smirked. “ If anything, I’d wager it requires even more.”

“You’re not helping,” Penelope gave her a flat look.

“I am only trying to lighten the mood.”

They were interrupted once again by George, who looked at his daughter with disdain. Penelope exchanged a worried glance with Isadora, who seemed a bit alert as well.

Both sisters knew that there was nothing worse than their father when he was in a sour mood.

“Well?” he stepped forward, scowling. “What are you standing there looking at me like that for? Was this not what you wanted?”

Penelope did not even know where to start arguing back. No, this was not what she had wanted for herself. But it was her father’s selfish decisions that had brought her to this point.

“It would be better if we do not cause a scene, Father,” Penelope tried to dodge the topic. “We do not wish to be late to the ceremony, so we should head to the carriage now.”

George mumbled something under his breath and stomped his feet all the way to the carriage, where the three of them climbed inside. The vehicle started to move, but the atmosphere remained tense—thick with the kind of silence that buzzed louder than words.

Penelope kept her gaze out the window, watching the city blur past. Isadora sat beside her, hands folded neatly in her lap, but even she didn’t attempt to ease the mood. Their father sat across from them, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his lips pulled into a sour line.

He didn’t speak for several minutes. Then, with a bitter scoff, he muttered, “You know, I never imagined I’d be attending my daughter’s wedding twice in the same week.”

“You’re welcome to stay home if it pains you so,” Penelope exhaled dejectedly. She had heard enough of her father’s taunts over the last week.

“That would be what you deserve,” George glared at her. “You’ve embarrassed this family beyond repair. You humiliated him at the altar. Lord Burton did not deserve what you did to him.”

“He humiliated me before it. Would you rather I stood there and let it happen?” Penelope fired back.

George did not have a reply to that immediately. How could he? He knew that it was futile to defend someone who had tried to harass his daughter.

“I do not understand why a lord would do such a thing,” her father went on. “Maybe he had intended something else and you interpreted it differently.”

Penelope did not even know how to respond. How typical of her father to reduce her concerns to something trivial.

“There was no error in my interpretation, Father,” she said, feeling her throat close up.

“I suppose none of us will ever know,” he scoffed. “Since you and him were the only persons there.”

“That is why you need to take my word for it,” she pressed. She hated how much she had to explain herself, when her father should be looking out for her.

“I would have preferred that you came to speak to me, instead of creating a scene,” he said finally.

Penelope laughed. “Father, it is easy for you to say this now, but I am certain that you would have forced me to go through with the whole thing.”

“And would I be wrong to?” George argued. “Every time I manage to secure a match for you, you conjure up some issue at the altar. Tell me, what respectable man would wish to marry you after all of this?”

“Now, Father,” Isadora interjected, gently. “Why must you be so harsh on her? All that happened is in the past now. Perhaps we should all remember that today is meant to mark a fresh start. Continuing to punish her for choosing freedom doesn’t serve anyone.”

“If her freedom is at the cost of embarrassing this family, then I have every right to punish her.”

“You are acting as though she has ruined her life entirely,” Isadora shook her head. “She is to marry a duke, and that alone is enough to redeem her for whatever wrong you believe she has done.”

“You think marrying a duke erases what’s already been said? The damage is done,” George replied. “The rumors will follow her wherever she goes. Some of the guests at this very ceremony have come not to offer well wishes but to see if she runs again. There’s even a wager on it, I’ve heard.”

Penelope felt her stomach drop. She could not imagine anything better from the ton . They thrived on gossip, and she seemed to supply an endless source .

“So let them bet,” she spoke up, “I’d rather be gossiped about for running away from a monster than praised for marrying one.”

“Enough,” Isadora exhaled deeply and placed a hand on Penelope’s knee in a silent gesture of comfort. “Please. It is her wedding day.”

Her father turned his face to the side, scowling out the window. “One can only hope she follows through with it this time.”

“You need not worry this time,” Penelope answered.

No one was happier than Penelope when the carriage finally came to a stop, for it meant that she finally had relief from her f athers’ consistent pestering.

Not too many people awaited them as they arrived.

The guest list had been kept short, deliberately so.

Only some relatives and a few members of the ton had been invited.

However, Penelope had suspicions about their reasons for attending, as she knew that her marriage would be the subject of gossip for many weeks to come.

They are mistaken, Penelope thought to herself. She would not give them a chance to talk this time.

The moment that she stepped out of the carriage, she could hear the whispers that followed. Ignoring them was in her best interest , so she did.

She did not spare anyone a single glance. Let them judge, as they would have regardless.

“Can you hurry up?” George continued to pester her the first chance that he got. If anything, he seemed even more irritated now that they had finally arrived at the venue.

Well then, Penelope thought. Here goes the rest of my life.

Slowly, George led her down the aisle, where Alexander stood waiting at the end.

He was dressed properly in a polished suit that complemented his features.

Penelope tried to make out the expression on his face, but he did not seem to give anything away.

The choir had changed the tunes to announce the arrival of the bride, and everyone’s eyes were glued to Penelope.