Page 34 of Her Sinful Duke

“Is something the matter?” he asked, his hand lingering a few inches from her elbow, almost as if he were afraid of burning her somehow with his touch.

“No, no, I’m… just tired, that’s all,” she said in a manner completely unlike the one she used when speaking to him during their dance.

“Would you like something to drink?” he asked tenderly.

“No, thank you,” she shook her head.

“Would you maybe like to go out to the terrace for some fresh air?” he suggested. “It is quite stuffy in here.”

“No,” she shook her head again. “I would just like to go home, please.”

“Of course,” he agreed immediately as that had been their prior arrangement. But he could see that something had happened. Something was wrong.

He proceeded to find his grandfather, informing him that they were returning home. Now, in the carriage, the awkward silence continued. His grandfather fell asleep, and Penelope seemed to doze on and off as the carriage rumbled over the brick roads of London streets. She would occasionally turn to him, smile silently, then focus on the carriage window again. It was obvious that something had happened. But what?

Upon arriving home, he helped her out. Then, he helped his grandfather, who whistled amusedly.

“Goodness me, that was quite the evening,” Grandfather mused, walking towards the manor house. “And a long one as well… I’d best head to my chamber; good night you two.”

“Good night,” James added hastily, and Penelope added her own greeting immediately after.

That was when James noticed that Penelope headed after his grandfather, but he gently grabbed her by the elbow. Waiting until he was certain that they were alone, he looked at her. There was something about the way she was staring back at him, almost as if she wasn’t certain if it was him or someone else.

“Penelope,” he started gently, “I can see that something is not right. Talk to me.”

“There is nothing to talk about,” she said, sounding absent-minded and distant.

He couldn’t imagine what could have happened in the hour that he was away from her. Then, he figured it out. Was it possible that some of the ladies of the ton approached her and told her about the rumors that were circling around him and his family? It was possible. Not only that, but it was probable as well.

He was afraid of that moment. He also hoped that he would have some time to work up to it, allowing her to see him for the man that he really was, so when she heard those rumors, she would be able to make up her own mind and be certain of her decision. But this was too early.

“Are you certain?” he asked.

It was obvious that if she had heard the rumors, she was reluctant to discuss them now. He wanted to tell her everything, to clarify even the smallest of misunderstandings, but he couldn’t do any of that when she didn’t want to listen to him. He had to be patient. He had to give her as much time as she needed, and that was the most difficult part.

“Yes,” she said softly.

“I understand,” he nodded, letting go of her elbow. “Just know that when you want to talk, I will be here.”

She seemed as if she wanted to say something, but she changed her mind at the last minute. He allowed her to walk past him, saddened by the unexpected turn of events. He couldn’t be positively certain what had happened, but he had his suspicions. It was as he had always suspected. His past would always catch up to him. He wouldn’t be able to run away from it. And now, even from the grave, his father was still ruining his life.

James swallowed heavily, raking his fingers through his hair. He wondered if he had somehow, unknowingly, ruined any chance he might have had with Penelope. Would she believe him if he told her what happened?

He sighed heavily, walking into the house. He knew that sleep would not grace him with its presence, but he had to try.

* * *

“Did something happen, Your Grace?” Charlotte was the second person that evening to ask her that same question.

She wanted to give her the same answer, but curiosity was eating her up alive. She remained silent for a few moments more, watching Charlotte pull out pins from her hair one by one, focusing on the task at hand.

Penelope inhaled deeply. “I’ve heard some… rumors.”

Charlotte stopped what she was doing, frowning at her. “You do know what rumors are, Your Grace, right?”

Penelope smiled somewhat sadly. “I do.” She hesitated to continue. “But I also know that where there’s smoke, there is fire.”

Charlotte shook her head. “No, no, no. Rumors are empty stories created by people who are bored with their own lives, so they have to make everyone else’s more complicated by making up lies about them. There is no fire there. Just an empty smoke curtain.”

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