Page 42 of My Cruel Duke

“I beg your pardon? What do you mean by that?” By now, Penny and Madeline had walked farther than Penny intended, there were only a handful of people around them.

“It means, sooner or later, Your Grace,” it was a mocking tone, “the duke will get tired of you and throw you out because you do not know how to keep him satisfied.” Penny’s blood boiled under her skin. “The duke does not waste his time with blushing maidens like yourself, he does not ‘make love’ or cuddles so I am certain you cannot offer him what he expects.”

This lady. What was Rhysand’s relationship with her?

“I was curious to see the kind of lady he married, and I must say, I am very disappointed.” She stared down at her manicured fingers and looked up at Penny with a bored expression on her face. “When I was with him, he always looked satisfied. I can tell you are doing a bad job.”

Penny was aghast.

“How dare you? You have no right to speak to me like th–”

Before Penny could finish speaking, Madeline put her foot out, causing Penny to step on it and slip into the lake she had not known was right behind her.

Chapter21

Something is amiss.Rhysand thought, but for the life of him, he could not tell what it was. Aside from the little incident involving Miss Lydia and the Baron of Sigertem, everything seemed to be going well. Even his wife, whom he had been worried about on their way to the park, had loosened up and was smiling as she attended to people.

Rhysand’s skin pricked him in a manner he disliked.

He had been talking to his uncle, who he noticed had been off-day drinking– as was his default– for a while now. Uncle Harold had become more jolly and smiled more than when drunk. He felt it had something to do with his wife’s aunt, marking the first time his uncle had been interested in anything other than estate affairs, whiskey, and revenge.

“...and at the right time, we shall make sure to repay their kindness in the true Patterson fashion,” Uncle Harold had been saying, but Rhysand’s attention was fixated on his wife’s aunt. He had first noticed the disorientated expression on Aunt Augusta’s face as she scanned the entire area, angling and stretching her neck in search of something. Or someone. Then she found Angleton, who seemed to have just returned from his stroll with Lydia but was alone. Rhysand tilted his head sideways as he watched them.

“What is the matter, Son?” Harold asked, earning Rhysand’s full attention, but not for long as Angleton approached them with a panicking Aunt Augusta behind him. It was the first time Rhysand had seen the older woman look so worried.

“Is anything the matter?” Rhysand asked Angleton, who shook his head almost immediately, confirming his suspicion of something being amiss.

“It seems the duchess has gone missing.”

Rhysand’s heart sank instantly at the words. It was as though time had slowed, and his organs had failed him. If not, why was he suddenly hearing absurd things? And why did it take him so long to breathe?

“I fail to understand what you mean by that,” his words were directed at Angleton, but his eyes were fixed on Aunt Augusta, who looked like she was on the brink of tears.

“S-She should not be alone in the park with so much water around. The lake…” Aunt Augusta sniffled. Rhysand had no idea what Aunt Augusta meant by that, but if it had anything to do with why Penelope had acted strangely when they arrived, then it was a severe problem.

“I am certain. I just need a little time to adjust,”she had said when he pointed out her strange behavior.

Rhysand’s legs started moving before he knew what he was about. What began as a brisk walk while he scanned the area migrated into a full sprint in mere seconds the farther he went from where the Ton gathered.

He stopped to catch a breath, sharp eyes still scanning the area. The opposite side of the park was quiet, which was a problem. It was too quiet. Not even birds were chirping as his eyes filtered through the green grass and trees, searching for his wife. It was as though the earth was mocking him for whatever reason.

Please be safe.He was unsure if his words were directed to the heavens or his missing wife. In any case, that was what he desired. His thoughts startled him, of course, but it was the least of his concerns. Top on his list of priorities was finding his wife.

Rhysand started moving again, toward the lake this time, his heart hammering violently against his chest while he wondered where Penny could have wandered off to, if she was all right or needed help.

He halted.

He had heard something, albeit faintly, but he heard it. It was a cry for help.

“Help–” he heard it again, but the words faded away this time. It was not long before Rhysand started moving toward the voice leading him directly to the lake.

He caught sight of dark hair floating in the water body and felt it in the pit of his stomach somewhere that the dark hair was, in fact, brown and not black as the water made it seem. He lunged into the lake without caring for his clothes.

He took hold of the unconscious body with trembling arms, and with one strong kick, he managed to push himself and the body to the dock, a part of which he grabbed with his left hand, borrowing its strength as he raised the body to safety.

Rhysand knelt beside his wife’s wet, unmoving body, his mind blank, as water trickled down his face, hitting the wood underneath him in little drops. A million thoughts crossed his mind, but he focused on reviving her.

When Rhysand was only a lad, he had been vastly interested in human anatomy. He learned how to resuscitate a person from his overzealous teacher, who was also the sole reason he lost interest in the subject. It had been a fleeting interest, but Rhysand had never been so thankful for those lectures he received from that man all those years ago as he was in the moment when he leaned forward and placed the heel of his palms on his wife's chest, compressing the area with just the right amount of pressure.

---