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“Well, if I have to be completely earnest, then I must bring to your attention that it has now been five days since my arrival at the estate, and I have not once sat down to have dinner as a complete family.”

Nancy cleared her throat. Clearly, she did not wish to say anything that could land her in trouble, but she nodded.

“Indeed.”

“No, it is really quite unusual,” Penelope stressed. “But no worries, I plan on changing that today.”

Yes, Penelope was determined to do something useful. After breakfast, which had once again been a lonesome affair, she found Mrs. Abott in the hallway.

“Mrs. Abott,” Penelope greeted the older woman brightly. “Good morning.”

“Your Grace,” the older woman fell into a curtsy immediately. “How may I be of help?”

“I was wondering if I could…” Penelope thought over the right words for a moment, “well, shadow you for the day. If that is all right with you.”

“Of course, Your Grace,” H er eyes widened. “But I am only engaged in household work.”

“Yes, yes,” Penelope rubbed her hands together.

Mrs. Abbott was the head housekeeper, and Penelope had something to learn from her.

“That is precisely what I wish to see. You have been in this estate for many years, and therefore moving between its halls comes like second nature to you, almost. I could learn that from you, if I am being honest.”

“Your Grace, Monteclare Estate is your home,” the housekeeper stressed. “Why must you say that? If anything, I have to learn from you.”

Penelope raised her hand to stop her.

“You do not need to flatter me excessively, Mrs. Abbott,” Penelope clarified. “I am not that sort of duchess. If anything, I would much rather you teach me what you know, which will be many times more useful to me.”

Mrs. Abbott looked taken aback for a moment. She had not expected the Duchess to be so forthcoming.

“Well, then,” Mrs. Abbott pursed her lips, “If that is what you wish for, then please, follow me, Your Grace. I shall show you everything that I know about the estate.”

Penelope clapped her hands together, delighted. Finally, something for her to do.

For the remainder of the day, she shadowed Mrs. Abbott for hours, following her from the kitchens to the linen closets, to the long hallways. It was perhaps not the most traditional introduction to a home for a duchess, but Penelope did not care much about maintaining tradition to begin with.

She tried to commit each instruction to memory: how many footmen served on which floors, which bells summoned which servant, which room would be for what sort of social visit. If she was being honest, it all sounded rather exhausting.

By mid-afternoon, she was in need of a break, but too stubborn to admit that.

Mrs. Abbott, however, proved more introspective than she let on.

“Your Grace,” she offered, softly. “We have had quite a long day, mulling about indoors. Perhaps it would do some good to go outside for a while.”

Penelope jumped at the opportunity. “I think that will be a wise idea.”

It would give her a chance to visit the gardens, which she had not seen so far. The estate was so large, it felt as though it would take weeks just to get acquainted with it all.

“The grounds span about five acres,” Mrs. Abbott said as they descended the back steps.

Penelope nodded, her eyes moving over the gravel paths and flowering hedges.

“This is the east garden,” Mrs. Abbott continued. “Most everything here blooms in spring. His Grace has ensured that all manner of flowers are planted here, and that they are well taken care of.”

Penelope’s gaze lingered on the flowers. For a moment, she tried to imagine Alexander tending to them or taking a moment to smell them.

The image was a contrast to the perception she had formed of him in her head, but it was an endearing thought, regardless.

“Does anyone come out here often?”

The housekeeper hesitated before replying. “Not often. Lady Odette used to visit the gardens frequently when she was younger. Now she prefers the stables. His Grace rarely walks the grounds.”

“Right. Shall we head towards the stables?” Penelope asked, and Mrs. Abbott quietly led her there. That was when she saw her.

Odette stood just outside one of the stalls, gently brushing the mane of a large mare. It was the first time Penelope was seeing her after their first meeting.

“She spends a great deal of time here,” Mrs. Abbott said quietly beside her. “More than anywhere else in the entire estate.”

Penelope nodded, and decided that it was a good opportunity to make herself known.

She stepped forward cautiously. “Good day , Odette.”

The girl glanced up for the briefest moment, but made no move to respond. Instead, she simply returned her attention to the mare, brushing with quiet focus as if Penelope was not even there.

Strange.

“That’s a beautiful horse. Is she yours?” Penelope tried once again.

The young girl said nothing, deliberately acting as though she had not heard her.

Penelope’s shoulders stiffened. She had never imagined herself particularly good with children, but this was something else entirely.

“Mrs. Abbott,” Odette spoke finally, “I do not wish to be interrupted.”

“Yes, my lady. We were only here to see the stables.”

Mrs. Abbott offered a sympathetic smile and gently began to lead the duchess out of the stables.

“She’ll come round,” she said, “The child has had more change in the past few years than most do in a lifetime.”

Penelope nodded in agreement, but made no effort to move away.

“I wish to stay here for a while,” she informed the housekeeper. She took a slow step back and watched as Odette continued her work, completely undisturbed.

“I imagine it must be peaceful here,” she offered gently. “The horses don’t talk back, at least.”

Odette didn’t respond. But Penelope was not about to give up so easily.

“I had a habit of sneaking out into the garden, my book in hand, when I was about your age. Perhaps you feel the same way about horse riding.”

Still, nothing. Odette continued to act as though she had heard nothing.

Penelope cleared her throat softly. Maybe she needed to ask a direct question.

“Your mare is beautiful. What’s her name?”

“She’s not mine, ” Odette muttered finally, irked.

It was not the warm response that Penelope had hoped for. But it was better than nothing. She latched onto it. “Still, she seems to like you. Animals always know, don’t they? When someone’s kind.”

At that, Odette finally straightened and looked directly at Penelope.

“Let me make it clear that I do not wish to be your friend,” she said, “or anything at all, for that matter.”

The admission caught Penelope off-guard. Where was this hostility coming from?

“You’re only here because you married him. That doesn’t mean I have to like you. And I don’t.”

She turned abruptly, striding away across the stables. Next to her, her small dog wagged its tail, making himself seen. He looked up at Penelope, as if unsure whether to stay.

“You’re friendlier than your mistress, you know,” Penelope mumbled to the animal.

“Come here!” Odette called out, impatiently. The dog gave one last glance before scampering off after her.

Penelope was left to mull over the rejection she had just experienced.

“Odette,” Penelope muttered to herself, “is going to be quite the challenge.”