Page 13 of Saved By the Rakish Duke

“Then regardless of everything else, we shall work together to ensure my debt is repaid so that I don’t have it looming over me, yes?” he added.

“That sounds reasonable enough,” she concurred, “then I shall adhere to your condition of following your lead—within reason, mind you!” She wagged a finger. “I intend to wed as quickly as possible, so I won’t have any time or patience for your senseless games.”

“Then it seems we understand each other, Lady Pen.” He winked, rising from the armchair. “That’s my first stipulation, by the way. ‘Penelope’ is absurdly long to say all the time, besides ‘Pen’ suits you.”

She rolled her eyes, also rising from her spot on the bed to see him out. “Usually only very close friends are allowed to speak so familiarly, but fine. I suppose you could have asked for worse, so...”

He paused, one hand on the doorknob. “Surely we’re friends now, aren’t we?”

“I’ll consider it,” she chuckled.

“Oh, woe is me!” He dramatically clutched his chest. “I presumed after everything we’ve been through tonight that-”

“Yes, all right,” she yielded, lifting a finger to her lips to remind him to keep his voice down. “We’re friends, Your Grace.”

He flashed her a triumphant smile before turning the doorknob. But just as she thought that she was finally rid of him, he stopped in the doorway to ask, “And do friends get a kiss good night or...?”

“Ugh, justleave!” She impatiently shoved him in the chest before slamming the door shut.

Despite her heart beating so loud, she could still hear him chuckling through the door. She touched a hand to her face, which—annoyingly—had grown hot once again.

He truly is unbearable!

* * *

Duncan kicked off his boots and threw himself onto his bed. But only when he landed face-first into a pillow did he realize how much he was smiling.

He turned onto his back, staring at the canopy above his bed as he racked his brain endeavoring to remember the last time a woman made him laugh like this.

Well, there was Lady Kingsbrook the other day...

But no, he realized he hadn’t used his real laugh. Instead, it was one of the laughs he had developed to perfect his flirting technique.

Ah! Lady Crestwell did make that clever quip about the final number in the opera the other day, and that was-

He furrowed his eyebrows in frustration.

In hindsight, it was more likely that she had rehearsed that joke beforehand—not that there was anything inherently wrong with that, of course. Providence knows that Duncan had done the exact same thing himself.

However, none of those instances were comparable to Lady Penelope’s authentic, spontaneous quips and wit. Her honest responses were a refreshing change from the calculated, convoluted maneuvers that flirting usually entailed.

To his dismay, he heard the familiar sound of a pebble hitting his window. After a long night of dancing, flirting, small talk, and cardplaying, didn’t he deserve some peace and quiet alone with his thoughts?

The tap of another pebble hitting the window answered his inner question with a resounding “No”.

Dragging himself out of bed, he let out a deep exhale as he lifted the window open.

Directly below stood none other than Philip Oakley—Marquess of Harlington—and Matthew Leeson—the Duke of Fairhaven.

“To me, fair friend, you never can be old...” Harlington declaimed.

“Shut it!” Duncan hissed.

But his best friend paid no heed to this, plowing ever onwards in his Shakespearean quotation, “For as you were when first your eye I eyed, such seems your beauty still-”

“Keep it down, buffoons!” Duncan waved his arms. “We have house guests with us!”

“Three winters cold!” Both friends simultaneously erupted below, throwing their arms around each other’s shoulders, “have from the forests shook-”

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