Page 4 of Her Sinful Duke

“That duke?” Penelope echoed, trying to put pieces together, but some were still missing. “No, no. I must find out this instant.”

Without any other word of explanation, she rushed out of her chamber and headed to the parlor. She barged in through the door, finding her mother seated comfortably in an armchair, but it was her father who was pacing about the room nervously like a caged animal. Both of them lifted their gazes, turning them in her direction.

Trembling with fear, as she had never spoken to her parents in such a manner, Penelope stood before them, demanding an explanation. “Vanessa is gone? And there is a duke that she was supposed to marry? What is the meaning of all of this?”

Her parents exchanged a meaningful glance then her father took over. “Well, it is very simple, really,” he said, speaking slowly and carefully selecting his words. “You are to take Vanessa’s place and marry the Duke of Huntington.”

Penelope felt as if an avalanche had swallowed her whole, pressing onto her chest, tightening its grip every time she tried to inhale. She could not speak at first, hoping that it was nothing but a bad dream and that she would wake up in her old room in the nunnery, welcomed by the sight of barren walls and dark halls. But no matter how hard she was pinching her hand, she would not wake up. Her reality stubbornly refused to change to the lesser of the two evils. She remained locked up in this one.

“You have brought me back to take the place of my sister in marriage?” she finally managed to speak, and all she could do was reiterate the same thing her father had just told her.

“Yes,” her father said calmly, with a single nod. “We need this wedding to take place as it opens up business opportunities beyond our wildest dreams. So, you will be doing it for the family, Penelope.”

“But I am to become a nun in a matter of days,” Penelope exclaimed desperately.

Her father shook his head. “Youwere,Penelope. Now, you are to become the duke’s wife. And I must say, there are far worse things in life to be condemned to than becoming a duchess, you know. Perhaps you ought to think how fortunate you are.”

“Fortunate?” Penelope gasped, feeling as if someone had struck her, expelling all the air out of her body.

“Yes, fortunate,” her father continued, choosing to ignore her silent protests. “We would have chosen Adeline as a more… fitting substitute, but unfortunately, she is too young, and the duke would know immediately that there is something amiss since he is well aware of Vanessa’s age. Fortunately, Vanessa is only two years older than you, so that will not matter.”

“Wait,” Penelope frowned, as another realization dawned on her, “do you expect me to live my life as Vanessa and lie to the duke for the rest of our lives together?”

Her father hesitated only for a moment before replying. “No, of course not. Just until the wedding.”

“And when is the wedding?”

“Oh, it is to take place this Saturday.”

This Saturdaymeant that there were exactly three days until the moment that she would look a stranger in the eye and divulge that she was not her sister.

“But you will meet him the day before that,” her father suddenly added, shocking her yet again. “We have managed to delay the meeting with everything that has happened until the last possible moment. We could not allow the duke to change his mind, thinking that we were not serious about this marriage which I assure you, Penelope, we are. That is why you are here.”

Penelope swallowed heavily, knowing that she would not be able to escape the fate that her parents had written for her. She was never able to. Just like she was sent off to Scotland to a nunnery, far away from everything and everyone she had ever known, now she would be sent off into the arms of a stranger of whom she knew nothing. And, as always, she was expected to obey with a smile.

That was when her mother put down the embroidery hoop she was holding in her hand, as if the conversation had just gotten interesting for her.

“Think of it as your way to undo all the wrongs you have ever done, child,” her mother spoke softly but not tenderly.

Tenderness was reserved for Vanessa, who would receive it upon her return, no doubt, despite her transgressions. “You can be there for your family when we need you the most. Show us that you care about us.”

Penelope felt an onslaught of tears, but she fought them bravely. She promised herself a long time ago that she would never again cry in front of any member of her family. And this would not be the day that she broke that vow. Biting the inside of her cheek furiously in an effort to displace the pain from the mental realm onto the physical, she managed to control her tears. They remained unshed, allowing her a single moment to end the conversation and retire to her chamber.

“I will do as you bid,” she concluded, turning around and rushing out of the parlor.

Hot tears streamed down her face as she ran back to her chamber, closing the door behind herself and resting upon it with the entire weight of her body, as if they might break in after her and demand more of her — more of her heart and soul — until there was nothing else to give.

CHAPTER3

“Ibeg your pardon, Your Grace, but the Earl of Montgomery is here with his family as per your arrangement,” Collingsworth, James’ butler, informed him in the dignified tone of a loyal servant who was at that moment more a friend than a servant. “They are waiting in the drawing room.”

“Thank you, Collingsworth,” James replied with a heavy sigh.

James Chapman, the Duke of Huntington, found himself standing in front of the ornate, gilded-looking glass as the morning light softly illuminated his chamber. His fingers were busy, deftly fastening the gleaming buttons of his waistcoat, each movement deliberate and precise as was the case with any endeavor he would undertake. The fabric, a rich tapestry of deep navy, embraced his muscular frame, accentuating the broadness of his shoulders and the strength of his stance.

“Would that be all, Your Grace?” Collingsworth, a man who had known James since he was a small boy, asked in a fatherly tone of voice. In fact, Collingsworth had been more of a father to James than his own father had ever been.

“No, do stay for a moment,” he bid, and the faithful old butler immediately complied.

---