Page 23 of The Guardian Duke (Wayward Dukes’ Alliance #21)

Henry stared at Penelope’s back as he followed her down the corridor and watched as she strode from his home before he returned to the library. She had not truly answered his question—if she was truly happy being a spinster—which meant that she was not.

Had his kiss perhaps changed her mind?

No. As much as he may pride himself in the art of seduction, Lady Penelope would not succumb to his charms so easily.

However, that was not the question that concerned him. As soon as he asked what her answer would be if a proposal was to come, she frowned as sadness filled her green eyes.

Nor had she answered that question either. Yet, she stood there, stared into his eyes as if she were trying to see his soul, then refused to answer and left.

What had that been about?

And why would the prospect of marrying him make her sad.

The thought that he was so objectionable, even after the passionate kiss, pained him. So much so that his heart ached, the likes he had never experienced before.

What he needed to do was go after her and find out what was wrong. Maybe if he could convince her to tell him, then he would understand.

Yes, she wanted independence and freedom, but the way she had looked at him had nothing to do with either of those. He needed to know why she had been filled with sadness. He wanted to make it right.

He wanted to make her happy again.

He wanted to…

Bloody hell!

Panic rose as he scratched a note to Claybrook then set out for White’s. He hoped that Claybrook arrived quickly because if there was ever a time that he needed his help, it was now.

“What is so important this time?” Claybrook asked as he settled at the table with Henry.

“I think I am in love.” It was the first time Henry had said it out loud and the panic from when he first realized the state of his heart had not eased.

“Congratulations,” Claybrook chuckled.

“Why?”

“At least you will have the opportunity to marry for love instead of necessity of heirs.”

“That would be all well and good except she does not like me very much.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes. She has told me so. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

“You do realize that this is not a problem the Alliance can help you with.”

Henry blinked at him. “Yes, of course.”

“Then why did you use your seal to send for me?”

“I did?” Henry frowned. “I am certain…I am sorry. In my panic I must have used the wrong signet when I only meant to send for a friend.”

Claybrook chuckled. “I can understand that such a realization might have befuddled you when you had been blind to your emotions before.”

“What do I do?”

“Confess all to her, wait for a reaction and then make your next decision.”

“She…well, I do not want to even attempt to imagine her reaction, though I am certain it will start with laughter.” At least she would no longer be sad.

“Are you so certain?”

“I think it is worth consideration. I rather like you Lady Penelope, even if you do not like me very much.”

“Yes, I have claimed that.”

Claimed! As in the past. Was it possible she liked him now?

But, even if she did, it still was not love. Was it possible that she might care for him more than he realized, but was too afraid to acknowledge those emotions?

“No wonder you have not wed, Cousin Henry. Like Lady Penelope, you fear giving up enjoyments and freedom,” Damaris offered with a laugh.

“That is not what I fear,” he returned then focused on Lady Penelope. “I believe we share the same concern of making a poor match and becoming miserable but not realizing the mistake until it is too late.”

She stared back into his eyes, her green ones darkening.

They were in agreement.

Was it simply that they were both too afraid? He had no choice but to wed one day, but Lady Penelope did not suffer from the same expectations. Yet, she might understand him far better than anyone of his acquaintance.

A woman like Penelope certainly would not leave herself so vulnerable to confess a deep caring to him, let alone love, unless she was assured that it was returned.

Even if she did not return his feelings, Henry needed to tell her so that she would at least know.

* * *

When Penelope called on the Simpson sisters earlier, their excitement and nervousness was nearly overwhelming. Once again, they reviewed that all was progressing as it should so that everything would be ready for the ball before the guests arrived that night.

Thankfully Eldridge had not been at home because she was still trying to come to terms with her emotions. After the ball concluded, Penelope would have no reason to call on the Simpson sisters again because they would make the very best of connections, likely attract several suitors, so they would have no further need of her.

It was for the best because she needed to put some distance between her and Eldridge, even if it meant that she and Patience needed to take a grand tour on the Continent.

Penelope was even honest enough to admit that she was running away and not just from the gossip, but Eldridge as well.

How had she fallen in love with him?

A part of her still hadn’t gotten over the shock at her realization.

She never thought to experience love, and certainly not for Eldridge.

All she could hope for was that she managed to make it through the ball. First, she feared that she might say or do something that would reveal to Eldridge that she loved him and it was imperative that he never learned. If he had any idea of her emotions…oh, she did not want to even contemplate his reaction, but she was just as certain that her feelings were not returned and she certainly wasn’t going to humiliate herself by confessing.

The second reason was that it had not been so long since five men had caught them kissing, without them being aware. Would the matrons be so foolish to gossip about the incident in Eldridge’s home?

Yes, and Penelope prepared for the raised fans as women whispered while they watched her.

Paris would be a delightful holiday indeed.

Penelope walked beside Patience as they followed Noah and Rosalind into the mansion. The line was long, which hadn’t surprised her, given who their host was, and no doubt the ballroom would be a crush.

“Is all well with you?” Patience asked quietly.

“Yes, why do you ask?”

“You have been worrying your hands, some of the color in your cheeks has faded and you have spent a good deal of time biting your bottom lip. That is not like you.”

Oh dear, what did she say? That she was nervous about seeing Eldridge and since when did any man concern her?

“Do you fear the gossip?” Patience whispered the question.

“Yes,” Penelope answered because it was a concern, just not the biggest.

Blast, with each step she took to greet the hosts, her stomach and throat tightened.

She hated this and wondered if everyone that fell in love suffered the same, and all too soon she was standing before Eldridge and dipped to a deep courtesy. “Your Grace.”

“Lady Penelope,” he returned with the corner of his mouth tipped and humor in his blue eyes.

What had she done to earn such a reaction?

He then took her hand and bent over it. “You will save me the supper dance.”

It was not a request, but an order.

And even though she hated being told what to do, a little thrill rippled through her midsection. “Of course, Your Grace,” she returned, then stepped aside to greet Judith. Each of the Simpson sisters were brilliantly turned out. They had already been pretty, but with new styles in their hair, gowns that fit appropriately and were of a complementary color, they were radiant and beautiful.

Some of Damaris’ unease was apparent, but Penelope hoped that she would soon relax and enjoy herself.

As she and Patience moved past the sisters and further into the ballroom, it was exactly as she had expected. Fans were raised immediately as matrons likely whispered about her ruined state and that she should not be in attendance.

“It is going to be a very long night,” she murmured to her sister.