Page 19

CHAPTER 18

O nly once Duncan had finally caught sight of her did he finally feel like he could breathe again. Despite her irritation with him, Lady Penelope presently stood next to the archway—wringing her hands in nervousness—just as he had requested.

As he jogged towards her, he noticed that she began hugging her arms. This hardly surprised him as now that they were no longer swimming in a sea of guests inside an overflowing ballroom.

“Here,” he called out to her, beginning to take his coat off, “I take it that your cloak is still in our coach, yes?”

“It’s all right.” She shook her head dismissively. “I take it we shan’t be out here for long, correct?”

He rolled his eyes, wrapping the coat around her shoulders anyway. “You know, at times like this I suspect that you oppose me simply out of habit rather than because there’s a good reason to.”

She shot him a defiant look, but her eyes softened—likely because the warmth from the coat finally hit her—and she mumbled a reluctant “Thank you” under her breath.

“There’s a bench inside the archway,” he explained offering her his arm. “The vines and wisteria will help conceal us from any eyes who might misunderstand.”

“I’m almost too afraid to ask how you’re so familiar with the layout of another family’s estate,” she half-joked, accepting his arm.

“Why would you need to ask?” he smirked. “You’re already well aware that I’m an observant person.”

The moonlight shone through the gaps in the wisteria as they strolled under the archway. Thanks to the full moon, it was still bright enough for them to see each other clearly even here—another big relief because otherwise Duncan would have needed to somehow procure a lantern for the sake of Lady Penelope’s fear of the dark.

“You really are a most bizarre gentleman, Your Grace,” she sighed next to him. “For upon hearing my complaints that I wanted to speed up the hunt, instead of helping me do so, your first recourse has been to lure me away from the party and any potential suitors—thus slowing down our hunt for my future husband even further.”

“I have good reason to believe that this momentary setback will be worth your time, Lady Penelope,” Duncan assured her. “Besides, even the most dedicated hunters need to take breaks.”

When they arrived at the bench, Duncan gestured towards it, encouraging her to take a seat.

Without meaning to, his feet started pacing back and forth the moment he began speaking. “I understand our... quest has become increasingly frustrating for you, Lady Pen—understandably so. Thus, I believe there’s no better time than to reveal that you’re actually closer to your goal than you think.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well...” Duncan cleared his throat, “the truth is that your list of ‘practice gentlemen’ is actually... the five best prospects I could find for you.”

“But what about the other list you hid from me containing the three-”

“The three additional names? It was a blank sheet of paper,” he confessed. “I led you to believe that you were simply ‘practicing’ your techniques because I had hoped it would make this ordeal less nerve-racking for you.”

She stared at him speechlessly for a moment before finally shaking her head, “In truth, you were right,” she admitted. “In fact, you managed to put me so at ease with the idea of ‘practicing’ that I even attempted to do so earlier. But in that case, why did you stop me from pursuing Lords Direpeak and Newshore further?”

“That was my fault,” he sighed, dropping onto the bench next to her. “I should have gotten to know them better before letting them near you. I was hoping to find other—more suitable—candidates to replace them tonight, but to no avail. But if you focus on either Lord Wayshell or the Duke of Montg-”

“I don’t think that will be necessary, Your Grace,” she cut him off with a weak smile. “I... appreciate all of the thought and time you’ve given this endeavor, but maybe it would be better if I continued it alone from here.”

Duncan’s heart dropped in his chest. “Did I do something to upset you, Lady Pen? I do apologize that Direpeak and Newshore turned out to be wretches, but I know for sure that Wayshell and-”

“It’s not that at all, Your Grace,” Penelope sighed. “I’ve simply noticed that I have developed the bad habit of relying on you too much. Now that you have provided me with the necessary skills and methods to proceed on my own, it is time I took responsibility for-”

“Have I upset you in some way?” Duncan frowned, sliding closer to her on the bench.

She pulled his coat tighter around herself. “No,” she turned away from him, “you’ve been wonderful, Your Grace, and I’ve taken advantage of that kindness long enough.”

“Nonsense,” Duncan insisted, inching even closer. “We’re friends, aren’t we? Such sacrifices and lengths are expected.”

Did one of the other guests warn her about me yet again? he worried.

But then he remembered Steepwharf’s remarks regarding how Lady Penelope instinctively jumped to Duncan’s defense whenever given the chance—so that couldn’t possibly be the reason.

His eyes widened in concern. “Did someone hurt or threaten you? Just say the word and-”

“Your Grace…” she sighed, “I have already disclosed to you the reason for my decision, there is no need for you to keep guessing.”

But Duncan wasn’t convinced. The restrictedness of her voice and her unwillingness to look him in the eyes told him there was clearly more to what she was saying.

With the aid of the moonlight streaming in through the leaves, he scanned her face for any hints of why she was suddenly closing herself off from him.

“I can’t even remember the last time you went this quiet around me,” he teased, gently nudging her in the side. “You’re starting to scare me.”

His companion still refused to budge, but Duncan also refused to give up.

“I hope you know that you can tell me anything, Lady Pen,” he reminded her, gently tucking a lock of hair behind her ear so he could better see her face. “I’ll always endeavor to return the same degree of understanding and compassion that you have always extended to me.”

At last, she turned to face him, her almond-shaped eyes locking with his. Duncan couldn’t help but smirk because even with her lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed, she was still rather charming.

“When you say ‘anything’, Your Grace…” she hesitantly began.

“Anything,” he reaffirmed, taking her gloved hand in his. “Whatever it is, you’ll know that I—of all people—am certainly in no position to judge.”

Her eyes moved down to their hands as she sucked in a deep breath. “You truly are dangerous company to keep, Your Grace,” she breathed. “I think that’s why I’m afraid that I’m beginning to-”

His ears perked up at the sound of giggling and hushed whispers. He jumped to his feet urgently, pulling her up with him.

With his free hand, he brought a finger to his lips.

This way, he mouthed, leading her deeper into the archway’s path. He had just managed to pull his companion behind a statue several yards away when the other couple was finally close enough to identify.

“It’s Lord Shawstead and Lady… Rose, I believe?” he whispered to Lady Penelope, as the other couple replaced them on the bench. “And thank heavens for that because with his red hair, I was slightly worried it was Fairhaven.”

His companion carefully peeked from around the statue, but let out a gasp as the other couple grew more feverish and excited in their endeavor.

He moved quickly to shield her eyes and pull her behind the statue once again—perhaps with a little more force than he had originally intended.

“I take it that this is a popular spot for rakes to lure their prey to?” she huffed under her breath.

Duncan nodded. “And it’s not difficult to see why. It’s quite the feat to find a spot that’s easily accessible yet still secluded enough to afford a measure of privac- Ouch!” he grunted, as she removed his coat and shoved it into his torso.

He checked to see whether the other couple had heard him, but thankfully, they were too preoccupied to notice anything around them.

“I take it that if I follow the path, it will eventually rejoin the main path on the other side of the West Gardens?” she asked coldly, nodding to the path behind them.

“That is correct,” he answered, putting his jacket back on. “Come, I shall escort you to the-”

“No need,” she hissed. “Good evening, Your Grace.”

“Lady Pen?” he whispered after her bewilderedly.

But she didn’t so much as turn round, upping her pace to where she was practically jogging away from him.

He watched her until she turned the corner.

She didn’t even give me the chance to wish her well on the remainder of her endeavor.