Page 34

CHAPTER 33

J ust three more days, Penelope told her reflection. In just three more days, you shall be married and away from here.

Since the painful quarrel that fateful night in the kitchen, the walls of Blackmoore Manor felt much too suffocating. Thankfully, as the wedding neared, everyone’s schedules grew more frantic, which meant fewer opportunities for shared meals around the dinner table, traded instead for quick bites in one’s own quarters or wherever else one might find herself around the house when mealtime struck.

This made it significantly easier for Penelope and the duke to carry on avoiding each other.

Gentle knocks on the door pulled Penelope’s attention away from the mirror.

“Beg your pardon, Lady Penelope...” a maid’s voice called from the other side, “but we have brought the trunks and chests requested by Lady Punton.”

Penelope stood up to let them in, thanking them as they began to help pack her things for her. With the wedding so close, she and Mother needed to get ready to move into Lord Gloushire’s manor—their new home.

As she helped the maids gather her things, Penelope hoped that Lord Gloushire’s endeavors were going better. He and the duke had agreed to get the rest of their clothes and effects from Punton Manor on their behalf in case Uncle Winston attempted to try anything underhanded.

It surprised Penelope that despite everything she had said to him, the duke graciously agreed to help when Mother and the dowager duchess asked him.

A part of her hoped that the duke had agreed to do so out of the fondness that he confessed to have for her. But she fought to put out that dangerous thought and reminded herself that he was the one who wholeheartedly urged her to marry a different man.

Entrusting the maids to carry on with the task at hand, Penelope decided to check if Mother needed any additional assistance with packing her things.

Penelope turned out to be right after all and the hours flew by pleasantly as they continued to pack.

Just three more days.

* * *

“Thank you for your help, Your Grace.” Lord Gloushire flashed him a polite smile as they climbed back onto the coach. “Lord Punton proved much more cooperative than anticipated.”

“My pleasure,” Duncan answered truthfully—not complaining at all since he received another opportunity to remind the monster to stay away from Lady Penelope.

“Shall we take luncheon at Gillingham’s?” the viscount suggested. “It shall be my treat, naturally, to thank you for all of your help.”

“Just knowing that Lady Penelope and her mother will no longer have to worry is more than enough thanks.” Duncan nodded before resigning himself to look out of the window.

“You’re uncharacteristically timid today, Blackmoore. I take it you spent most of your strength on another long night of debauched revelry?”

Duncan shot the other man a dry look. “Thank you for your concern, Lord Gloushire. If it suits you, I would prefer to be dropped off on Lesnall Street as I have some business to conduct today.”

The viscount offered no objections, and a peculiar silence filled the coach. A part of Duncan was curious to know what Lord Gloushire would have said to him if he had accepted his luncheon invitation.

Would the viscount have perhaps confronted Duncan about his feelings for Lady Penelope? Duncan was sure that Lord Gloushire suspected him by now. He also wondered whether Lady Penelope had mentioned anything to her fiancé about their encounter in the kitchen.

Was it possible that Duncan had now technically kissed Lady Penelope more times than Lord Gloushire had? After all, he only ever saw the viscount press kisses to Lady Penelope’s hands instead of her lips.

But Duncan resisted his curiosity, bearing in mind how close it was until Lady Penelope had her freedom.

Three days from now, he thought to himself. Three days from now and her future shall be secured.

When the coach finally stopped at the corner of Lesnall Street, Duncan lingered just a moment longer with his hand on the door. “You’ll be good to her, right, Gloushire?”

“Of course!” huffed the viscount. “What do you take me fo-”

“Thank you.” Duncan nodded his head resolutely, pushing the door open as he began to descend. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

* * *

“Yes, please put them over there.” The dowager duchess gestured to the far corner with an open hand and the servants complied at once, carrying a flower arrangement so elaborate that it required two people to lift it.

With the wedding no more than a day away, Penelope, Mother, and the dowager duchess worked hard to ensure that everything in Willowdale Manor was ready for the wedding breakfast. Penelope looked around at what would soon be her new home and attempted to imagine greeting the guests as they arrived, taking steps as though she was guiding them through to the drawing room and making pleasant conversation.

She did this a handful more times, each time rehearsing a different potential topic of conversation depending on the guest she was imagining.

When the dowager duchess paused to take some water, she called out to Penelope, “Have you had the chance to practice your piece on this pianoforte, pet?” She gestured to the instrument at the far end of the room. “I worry that the keys might feel different from the one you have been using for your practice at home.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Penelope smiled. “The keys here have a bit more give compared to the one you have at Blackmoore Manor, but with just a few more rounds of practice later in the afternoon, I believe I shall be fully adjusted.”

The preparations carried on at a dizzying pace only briefly interrupted by the giggles of Lucy and Reggie as their game of tag briefly entered the drawing room.

“Be careful you two!” Penelope gasped, holding both hands up in an attempt to stop them. “We can't have you slipping and hurting yourselves just before the wedding!”

Lucy was the first to listen, stopping her chase of her brother at once. “Sorry, Mother,” she murmured, clasping her hands together over the front of her skirt, “we got carried away.”

Once the younger child realized that no one was chasing him, he let out a huff and then began trudging towards his sister.

“It’s all right, Lucy...” Penelope cooed, hurrying to her side, “Did you just call me, ‘Mother’?” she smiled.

“Yes,” blinked the girl, “I do hope that’s all right? Father said we didn’t have to wait until tomorrow to start cal-”

“It’s more than all right.” Penelope brushed a curly lock away with her hand. “But like I said, please find a less risky means to spend your time.”

The children offered polite promises before they scurried away hand-in-hand, presumably towards the garden, with a maid trailing behind them.

Just one more day. Penelope steadied herself with a deep breath. Just one more day until I become a mother.

* * *

Duncan stretched his arms high above his head, temporarily relieving the ache that burned into his lower back. He couldn’t remember the last time he had sat down this long uninterrupted. As a reward for finally getting through the looming stack of papers to his right, Duncan rose from his chair and began to stalk around his office.

Save for Rowley bringing him his meals, Duncan had hardly spoken to a soul today. All the ladies of the house had gone to Gloushire’s for the final preparations, leaving the house to sit quiet and devoid of any commotion for the first time since the wedding planning had begun.

He wondered how Lady Penelope was handling the tension and stress. Duncan imagined her absent-mindedly chewing her lip to soothe her nerves—a dangerous habit for a woman as stunning as her.

He slammed a fist on the table, rebuking himself for allowing his thoughts to drift towards her yet again. It was a battle that Duncan had spent the better part of the day fighting while he attempted to get some work done.

The winds initially appeared to be in his favor, but alas, the warmth of the afternoon sun reminded him of her reddish-brown locks and how her eyes appeared almost golden in the heavenly lighting. And thus, the winds and tides of battle shifted against Duncan, and he found himself getting lost in the thought of her more and more as the day dragged on.

Every passing minute made it painfully clear that Duncan could never bring himself to attend the wedding tomorrow. His eyes briefly scanned the room for an excuse—momentarily considering pretending to be ill.

However, he quickly realized that perhaps he need not bother with a ruse at all—especially after Lady Penelope looked at him with such deep hurt and betrayal in her eyes that fateful night in the kitchen.

He didn’t need to explain himself to her, and even if he tried, she would be too busy and too indignant to hear him out.

“You selfish bastard.” Her fatal words rang in his ears.

A hand flew up to massage his temples while the other supported his weight against the nearest wall.

Perhaps I could afford to be selfish one more time, he thought to himself. Yes, and then never again. I shall never be selfish with her ever again, he vowed to himself.

Striding back to his desk, Duncan took out a fresh leaf of paper. But his bravado deserted him the moment he picked up the quill and his hand hovered indecisively just above the page.

Naturally, Lady Penelope and her mother would go straight to Willowdale Manor immediately after the ceremony, rendering today their final day here at Blackmoore. When would he next get to speak to her after he intentionally skipped her wedding tomorrow?

Once again, he found his mind torn. His selfishness urged him to write down everything he wished he had said, to make excuses, to drag out his goodbye until it was several pages long.

As if she would even bother to read all of it. He bitterly laughed to himself. She hates you now, remember?

He winced at the thought. What sort of wretch was he that he had managed to earn the wrath of even a creature as gentle and kind as Lady Penelope?

So, Duncan kept his note short.

In no more than three sentences, Duncan apologized for his absence, wished her well, and thanked her for her friendship. His eyes lingered over the bottom of the page where he had signed: “ Yours, Blackmoore ” and cursed his script for being slightly shakier than usual and prayed that she wouldn’t notice.

Duncan slipped the note into his pocket with the intention of discreetly asking Rowley to take it to her room first thing in the morning.

But when he yanked his office door open, Duncan found Lady Penelope standing before him, her dangerous hazel eyes peering up at him once more.

And suddenly Duncan wished he hadn’t just used up his final chance at being selfish.