Page 44

“ S top, please, move out of the way.”

Penelope Morton felt a burning sensation in her lungs. It was not as though she was not used to physical exertion, nor was she too old to be unable to deal with it. But she had been running for so long that it felt as though her knees would now give out at any moment.

“What is the rush, young lady?” A man stopped her to ask, but she did not bother breaking her sprint. Instead, she ignored the strange looks thrown her way by passersby.

She did not know where she was headed herself. Only that she could no longer turn back.

The narrow street curved sharply, and she rounded the corner blindly, crashing into an unknown street.

“Finally,” she said to herself, stopping for a breath now that there was some semblance of relief, and the invisibility of being in a crowded street, which had enough people that one could easily blend in without being spotted immediately.

But instinctively, Penelope knew that she would not be fully in the clear until she had a place to hide. At least for the time being until she sorted out the mess of her own mind.

She had to act quickly. Wasting no time at all, Penelope impatiently tapped against a wooden door, desperate for refuge. Her pale knuckles bruised against the rough surface but her rapping remained uninterrupted. She looked back once, as if worried that she had been too late already.

Any moment now, she could be spotted. Her knocking grew louder.

“Open up, please,” she rasped. From the outside, she could see a light inside the establishment. On top of the door, there was a worn- out wooden sign.

Walford’s.

“Is someone in there?” she called out again and just before she was to begin another round of knocking, the door opened.

“Are you lost?” came the response a moment later, as a man peered out the door. He eyed her carefully, taking in the disheveled state of her.

Presentable was not a word she would use to describe herself at this moment. Her hair had fallen out of her once tightly knit chignon , the hem of her silky lavender gown was muddied, and a battered flower bouquet remained clutched in her hands – one that she had nearly forgotten about.

Managing a faint smile, she held it up to the man. “Can you let me in please?”

“And why would I shudder to do such a thing?” he asked.

It was a fair enough inquiry. She was a stranger, and he did not owe her any protection. She gathered her dress, which was now soaked at the bottom, and put on the most innocent expression that she could fathom.

“I have nowhere else to go,” she said in a voice that she hoped would be difficult to refuse, in an attempt to evoke some sense of honor in the man she was addressing.

The man’s gaze dropped to the bouquet she clutched in her hand, and then back to her face. He then looked around the crowded street.

“This street is no place for a woman to be dwelling,” he grumbled underneath his breath, “and that, too, unaccompanied. You ought to be careful.”

“It is a tad bit too late for that,” she said, both apologetically and a bit relieved. He seemed to be softening up, slightly.

“Well then,” he said, sighing in defeat. “Come on in then. But don’t you dare cause any trouble.”

Penelope did not know how to tell him it would be difficult to cause any more trouble than she already had.

He opened the door wider to let her in, watching her carefully at every step.

“Thank you,” Penelope said earnestly as she rushed inside. The first thing to note was just how much warmer it was on the inside, as compared to the street. It was a warmth that she welcomed eagerly. “You do not need to look so worried. I mean no harm.”

The man looked the furthest thing from convinced, still shaking his head.

“This is the last thing I needed tonight,” he said, “I am going to have to explain to the owner that I have let in a runaway bride into his establishment.”

It was at that moment that Penelope realized exactly where she had landed . It was a gentleman’s club, and quite a popular one by the looks of it, as many men occupied the various tables. A few curious glances were thrown in her direction.

“Follow me,” the man said to her before Penelope could stop to take a closer look. She obeyed without questioning, though she paused for a moment when she caught sight of her own reflection in one of the mirrors placed on the wall.

Runaway bride would be the right word to describe her.

“Now,” the man spoke again as they entered a backroom, which was much smaller and had stairs leading up to it. “What do you want?”

Penelope could sense both anger and pity as the man spoke to her. Surely, he must not have come across a similar incident before.

“I want a place to shelter myself in,” she said.

“If you cause any trouble that might get me fired, I will…”

“Not at all,” she said quickly. “I really do not mean any harm. I just.. I just need some shelter and…”

“Are you telling me the truth?” the man accused, but then seemed to regret his own words as he noticed the look of desperation on Penelope’s face. “Stay here.”

“Where are you going?” Penelope started to follow him as he made his way upstairs. “Can I come with you? I would really rather not be alone at this moment.”

“Absolutely not,” he said. “Do not move, I shall return in a moment.”

“And do what?” Penelope argued, worry lines creasing her forehead.

“And wait. I will go get the owner.”

“Oh,” Penelope straightened. Right, the owner.

Well, that did not sound like the worst of ideas. He would be the man who had the final say in this entire matter. It would be in Penelope’s interest if she could convince him somehow.

She watched the man disappear at the top of the stairs. It was only then that she got a moment to breathe and take in her distraught state . Her hands were shaking, and even as she tried, she could not get them to stop.

She threw the bouquet in her hands to the floor, chiding herself for not getting rid of it earlier. But could she really blame herself? She had other things on her mind.

“I have no use for this anymore, I suppose,” she said, watching as it fell to the floor.

A moment later, she jumped up as a small dog wandered into the room, immediately burying its nose into the discarded pile of flowers.

“Oh,” Penelope said, surprised at the sudden appearance but not finding it entirely unwelcome.

At least she was in the presence of another living thing. She had always loved animals dearly.

“Now, who is this?” She approached the animal carefully.

The dog looked up at her, careful at first, but then seemed to sense that she meant no harm. He began to wag his tail back and forth, sitting upright.

She lowered herself onto her knees and gently scratched his head .

“At least someone here is happy to see me,” she muttered to herself. “You seem like a very good boy.”

The dog took in the words of encouragement happily, his tail wagging faster now and making a thumping sound against the floor.

The dog leaned into her touch, tail thumping against the floor in approval.

“ Oi! What is going on here? Don’t touch him!”

Both Penelope and the friendly dog got startled by the sudden interruption. Penelope looked up to see a young boy standing in front of her, glaring at her.

“I was not doing anything to him,” Penelope began to explain herself. “And most of all, he did not seem to mind.”

“Do not touch him,” the boy chided, waving his fingers to call the dog back towards him.

“Get behind me,” the boy instructed the animal. “What have I told you about cozying up to strangers?”

“I did not mean any harm to it,” Penelope frowned. The boy was no more than four feet tall, and yet his attitude was that of someone twice his size. “I actually adore animals.”

“It’s not an it , it’s a him ,” he snapped. “And it does not matter if you adore animals or not. You should not be going around touching other people’s pets like this.”

Penelope pressed her lips together in a thin line. The young boy looked at ease in the surroundings.

He must work here, or have someone in his family who does. Though his attitude was abhorrent, Penelope realized that it would be in her best interest to play nice.

“Well, I did not mean to cause harm–” she started to explain herself, but the young lad held up a hand to stop her.

“My father told me not to talk to strangers,” he huffed, moving out a piece of hair from his eyes. “I would imagine he would not be happy that I am entertaining one like yourself, especially with that ridiculous dress you have on.”

Penelope felt her cheeks heat at the comment, suddenly feeling more self-conscious than before as she glanced down at the various stains on her dress. But ever more so, she felt appalled. She had never once been spoken to in this manner by someone that much younger than her .

“Did your father not tell you that it is entirely im proper to speak to someone in this manner?”

“I am speaking to you just fine,” the boy shrugged, kneeling down to pet his dog himself. “Besides, I am only protecting my dog. He might be small, and so people think it is all right to treat him however they please.”

Penelope looked down at the small dog, which looked to be some sort of terrier breed, and then back at the boy.

“I am the last person that he needs to be protected from,” she defended herself. “But you do need a lesson in manners. If you are behaving like this at this age, I cannot imagine the trouble you will have finding a wife when you are older.”

The boy clenched his fists, noticeably offended, and opened his mouth to respond when a deep voice interrupted them from the top of the stairs.

“Odette, enough. Go upstairs.”

Odette? Penelope blinked, flushed. Odette was a girl? She looked back in horror, but the girl was already marching up the stairs.

“Father, I was only–”

“I said enough,” the man chided.

Odette huffed, but she didn’t argue again. “Come now, Apollo,” she signaled to her dog, who followed her up the stairs with its tail still happily wagging.

“I did not realize…” Penelope tried to explain herself, “I mean, it was the trousers and the hair, I thought he was a boy.”

The man did not respond and finally descended the steps. Penelope watched him as he walked towards them. Immediately, she felt at a loss for words.

The man had very dark hair and was clearly handsome with his sharp features. Even though he stood at a distance from her, Penelope could already tell from his tall frame that he towered over her with ease . His gaze was fixed on hers, locking her into place.

Penelope found herself growing even more flushed. She parted her lips to speak, but no words would come out.

She tried to will herself to speak up. After all, Penelope had charmed all manner of gentlemen before, and she had never had any sort of issues with her confidence. It occurred to her then that those interactions would usually take place in a ballroom.

Here she was in a club, one that she had never been to before, and it was unfamiliar territory. That was the reason she was nervous, surely.

After all, it was not every day that Penelope Morton found herself speechless. The man was looking at her again, now with more of a curiosity.

“Who are you and why are you disturbing my establishment?”