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“ Y our Grace, are you sure you do not wish to sit down?”

A worried Nancy asked as Penelope paced the length of her bedchamber. Her brows were drawn tight in frustration, her hands gesturing wildly as she spoke.

“Honestly, Nancy, I’ve tried everything short of standing on my head to get that child to acknowledge me,” Penelope could not help but rant, for she had reached peak frustration.

“She is barely interested in holding a conversation with me, and that makes it very difficult for me to grow any sort of bond with her, let alone a close one.”

“Your Grace, I can empathize that this might be a challenging situation,” Nancy nodded. “But perhaps you need to give her more time.”

“I have tried every day for the past week,” Penelope said, frustrated. “I have been trying to approach Odette, but she barely listens to me.”

Nancy did not say anything, only offered a sympathetic glance in the Duchess’ direction.

Penelope sighed, her pacing slowing but not stopping.

“I don’t need her to braid my hair and call me Mother, Nancy. I just need her to speak. One full sentence, preferably not asking me to leave her alone.”

“She’s never known another woman in that position,” Nancy offered softly. “Her mother passed when she was quite young. Since then, it’s been only His Grace, and even he…” she trailed off.

“Even he what?” Penelope asked, narrowing her eyes.

“He is busy with work most of the time, so there is a natural distance between them. Especially since the young lady has grown older.”

Penelope stopped, considering the words. Penelope was well aware that there was no denying that Odette needed company, even though the young girl was too obstinate to admit it on her own.

It made her empathetic , if anything.

“Truthfully, I understand the role that I have taken on with this marriage, and the last thing that I wish to happen is to fail Odette in the one thing that she needs,” Penelope admitted. A part of her was worried that she had already failed, and Odette might never accept her.

“If I might make a suggestion…” Nancy trailed.

“Please, yes,” Penelope encouraged. “Go ahead. What do you think? I would love to get your perspective on things.”

“Well, have you considered bringing up the matter with the duke? I believe that might help you.”

“Do you really think so?” Penelope looked over her shoulder.

“You are her stepmother now,” Nancy added gently. “And if anyone has a say in how to reach Lady Odette, it’s His Grace.”

Penelope remembered how Alexander had instructed her that she must only come to him when it concerns his daughter. But she had been so irked by his rules that she had half a mind to ignore that instruction out of pride alone.

But pride hadn’t gotten her far this week.

“Fine then,” Penelope nodded, “But please, keep an eye out. If I have not returned by the hour, assume that I might have fainted from disapproval alone.”

“Think positively, Your Grace,” Nancy grinned behind her hand.

“You are far too cheerful about sending me off to face the lion in his den.”

Nancy held her ground. “Well, someone has to be. And if you ask me, His Grace could use a bit of challenge .”

That made Penelope pause, her hand resting on the doorknob.

“Is that so?”

“From my observation, I have a feeling that His Grace is not nearly as indifferent as he portrays himself to be.”

Penelope mulled over the thought for a moment, and she found herself wishing that there was truth in the statement. It would make her understand him much better, if anything.

“You think he’s pretending?” Penelope asked.

Nancy gave her a meaningful look.

“Well, he might be,” Nancy nodded. “He seems to look at you with great curiosity, that is for certain.”

“Oh, he does not spare so much as an unneeded glance in my direction,” Penelope found the statement rather ridiculous.

“Oh, he certainly does,” Nancy said, clearly pleased with herself now. “He acts like he’s not paying attention, but I’ve seen it.”

Penelope flushed, caught between irritation and intrigue. “He tightens his jaw at everything. It is just his disposition, not his reaction to me.” Penelope gave her a look, but Nancy simply smiled serenely.

“You’re imagining things,” Penelope continued.

“And you’re stalling,” Nancy replied, one brow arched.

Penelope exhaled through her nose. “Fine. You win. I’ll go talk to him.”

“As you should,” Nancy said brightly. “And do try not to look like you’re heading into battle, Your Grace. You are only going to speak with your husband.”

Penelope tried to calm herself as she made her way down the corridor.

It had been a few days since she had last seen or spoken to Alexander properly. He had a habit of keeping mostly to himself, and she did not wish to disturb him much either.

A strange feeling spread through her chest with every step she took. Nervousness was one that she could identify well, but there was another jittery feeling that she had not felt before.

Was it because she was going to see her husband? A feeling specific to him. She did not know for sure, but mustering up all the courage she could fathom, she finally knocked on his door.

“Who is it?”

“Penelope,” she called out, gulping loudly.

There was a small pause.

“Come on in.”

Slowly, she ventured inside his study. The walls were dark, and he sat at a corner desk, peering at her from behind his spectacles.

“I’ve come to speak with you,” she cleared her throat, suddenly feeling unsure of what to do with her hands that hung awkwardly at her side.

“Evidently.”

“Well, then, can I?” she said. She had a feeling that he was not going to make this process easy for her.

“Before you say anything,” Alexander took off his spectacles and set them aside on his table, “I would like to ask you if you have already forgotten the rules that I had set out for you?”

“Yes, you told me that I was never to disturb you,” Penelope nodded.

“So then, what is so urgent?” Alexander said, watching her carefully. She could see a hint of curiosity in his eyes that he was trying to hide behind annoyance. That gave her the confidence she needed to proceed.

“Well, if you remember your own rules,” she said, “I am allowed to disturb you, if it has to do something with Odette. You need not worry so much, I would not have dared to venture here unless it was important.”

Her tone turned sarcastic towards the end.

“If that is the case,” he sat up straighter, “then I would advise you to hurry and tell me whatever it is. If you have not noticed, I have work I need to return to.”

He was not in the best of moods, that much was evident.

“It is a question that I cannot ask anyone else, and it is in the interest of efficiency that I come directly to you,” Penelope explained herself, “What does your daughter like?”

“Pardon?”

“Odette,” she clarified. “What are her interests? Her hobbies? What does she enjoy doing?”

There was a pause. Penelope found herself second guessing , thinking that she might have said something out of line. But then she reminded herself that this was her last resort.

“Answer me, at least,” she said, frustrated. “For the love of god, I cannot figure her out and there is no one to help me.”

Alexander leaned back slightly in his chair, rubbing the sides of his face.

“You are having some trouble getting through to her,” he exhaled, dejectedly.

“Some trouble would be putting it lightly,” Penelope stressed. “She seems to want nothing to do with me, and I have all but exhausted my attempts.”

Alexander nodded, as if this was a perfectly normal and expected outcome. It only irked her more.

“Well then?” she said. “You told me to come to you if it was about her. She won’t speak to me. She barely even looks at me. I’m not asking you to perform miracles, but just… give me a place to start.”

It took Penelope everything to ask for his help, for she was so accustomed to never having to resort to it. Her finger nails dug into her palm as she waited for him to reply, which he seemed to be taking his sweet time to do.

A silence settled between them for a long moment.

“She likes the stables,” he said finally. “She prefers horses to people.”

“I knew that already,” Penelope muttered under her breath.

Alexander shot her a pointed look, but continued .

“She likes to read books, though only what she chooses,” he said. “She has a fondness for illustrated naturalist books. Plants, birds. That sort of thing.”

“I see,” Penelope nodded, committing it all to memory. Finally, some new information that she could use to her advantage.

“She plays the pianoforte, though only when no one is listening,” he added. “And she’s stubborn. She never likes being told what to do, or how to feel.”

“Well,” Penelope said softly, “on that, we may have something in common.”

“She enjoys being outdoors. Hates being inside for too long, especially when someone tries to make her sit still.”

Another similarity, Penelope thought to herself.

“She’s closest to Apollo,” Alexander added. “The dog, and quite protective of him as well.”

“I’ve gathered as much,” Penelope quipped. “She would not let me interact with the animal.”

“Ah, I am not surprised,” Alexander shook his head. “She is not one to share her things, so you will need to tread carefully there.”

“If I tread any more carefully, I am afraid that I might not move at all,” Penelope exclaimed.

“You still have a better chance than the rest,” he countered, a flicker of hope rising in his tone. “None of her tutors have ever managed to teach her etiquette, and God knows, they’ve tried.”

His voice was laced with a tired honesty that only a father could have. For a moment, she found herself softening towards him.

“What else?”

“As she’s grown older,” Alexander’s jaw tightened. “She keeps things to herself. I suspect there are things about her now that even I do not know.”

“Have you tried asking her?” Penelope asked, as though it was the most obvious course of action. But the look that Alexander shot her in response made her feel immediately silly.