“Ugh,” she said, biting her lower lip as she did so. “I’m sorry,” she added.
“It doesn’t matter,” he replied. “I share your lack of enthusiasm, but unfortunately, it is one of those rare occasions we have to attend.”
“All right, but may we feign a headache at some point in the evening and excuse ourselves?” she asked mischievously.
He liked her thinking. “I am counting on it, my dear.”
She laughed again. He couldn’t stop staring at her, drinking in the sight of her. “No matter how much I’d like to stay here with you, I do have to tend to that correspondence.”
“Of course,” she nodded, pondering for a moment. “I think I shall go and see what your grandfather is doing. Perhaps he would like to join me for a stroll in the garden.”
Something tugged at his very heartstrings. She wasn’t only kind to him but also to his grandfather. How on earth had he been so fortunate to find her out of all the ladies in Society?
“I think he would like that very much,” he assured her.
He took her by the hand and brought it to her lips. “If you need me, I’ll be in my study.”
She nodded then he turned around and left. His study was the last place where he wanted to be, away from her. His fears of having made a mistake by marrying a complete stranger were slowly dissipating, giving way to hope for a brighter, happier future.
CHAPTER15
“Oh, I am so dreadfully nervous,” Penelope admitted, as she stood before the ornate dressing table in her chamber, her heart aflutter with anticipation for the ball ahead. Beside her, Charlotte bustled about with practiced ease, attending to every detail of Penelope’s attire.
“Why, Your Grace?” Charlotte seemed truly surprised. She even stopped adjusting Penelope’s hair to ask that question. “You look absolutely radiant.”
“It has nothing to do with the way I look, dear Lottie,” Penelope admitted. “Although, I must say, you have outdone yourself.”
Penelope was a vision of elegance in her gown, the fabric a cascade of shimmering silk in the softest shade of lavender. Delicate lace adorned the bodice, accentuating her slender figure, while intricate embroidery traced dainty patterns along the hem, catching the light in a mesmerizing dance.
With a deft touch, Charlotte finished adjusting Penelope’s hair, her fingers moving with precision as she ensured that every curl framed her mistress’ face perfectly. Still, Penelope couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nerves deep in her stomach. She glanced at her reflection in the looking glass, her gaze betraying the apprehension that lingered beneath her composed exterior. Charlotte sensed it immediately.
“It is only natural to feel a bit anxious, Your Grace,” Charlotte spoke wisely and calmly, her tone gentle and reassuring. “But you have nothing to fear. You will be the belle of the ball, dazzling everyone with your grace and charm.”
Penelope offered a faint smile, grateful for Charlotte’s comforting words. “Thank you, Lottie. I just… I would have preferred staying at home. I’m not much for balls and big occasions where all eyes are on me.”
She knew that everyone would be watching them as her sudden marriage to the duke was already sparking whispers. A sense of unease settled in the pit of her stomach as she imagined the scrutinizing gazes, and the whispered speculations about their whirlwind romance. Penelope had always valued her privacy, and the thought of being thrust into the spotlight made her heart race with apprehension. She would have much preferred to stay home with her husband and get to know him better. Perhaps even work on that pocket watch together.
The thought made her smile. He had that uncanny ability of making her smile when that was the last thing she wanted to do. There was so much to him, that depth of character drew her in more and more, and she knew that she had just scratched the surface of who he truly was.
“If you don’t mind me saying, Your Grace, but all eyeswillbe on you whether you would like them to be or not,” Charlotte spoke in that matter-of-factly tone that was so her. “The duke is a very handsome man, but your beauty shines beyond description exactly because you are not like the other ladies of the ton, relishing the attention, but rather, you shy away from it.”
“If the nunnery taught me anything, it was to be quiet and obedient,” Penelope chuckled. “But I’m afraid I stray even from that.”
“A nunnery?” Charlotte gasped. “You? That cannot be.”
“It can, my dear Lottie,” Penelope continued to laugh at her friend’s shock. For that was what Charlotte was slowly becoming—not just a lady’s maid, but a friend.
“How on earth does one end up there?” Charlotte asked then she bit her tongue, realizing that she might have crossed the line. “Oh, I am sorry, Your Grace, I didn’t mean it like that.”
Penelope turned to her, taking her by the hand. “I never want you to apologize for speaking your mind, Lottie. I expect you to do that with me. I want to know I can rely on your honest opinion, always. Even in situations where I might not like it.”
Charlotte smiled. “I don’t think anyone has ever told me that before.”
“Well,” Penelope replied, “I am glad to be the first one, then.”
With a deep breath, she straightened her posture, drawing upon her inner strength as she prepared to face the challenges of the evening ahead. Though the prospect of being the center of attention still weighed heavily on her mind, she knew that she would be by her husband’s side, no matter what.
“Are you ready, Your Grace?” Charlotte asked.