Page 15 of Saved By the Rakish Duke

With the cursed piece finally out of her room, she was already breathing easier. But before heading to breakfast, she paid Mother’s room a visit in the hopes that her first slumber away from home had been more restful.

“Mother?” Penelope softly knocked. “Are you awake?”

No response, as usual.

To be safe, Penelope decided not to attempt to let herself in—just in case Mother was only just now getting some proper sleep.

As she walked downstairs, she ran into Mr. Rowley.

After greeting the butler, she inquired, “Did my mother take her dinner last night, Mr. Rowley?”

“She did indeed, Lady Penelope,” he answered.

“But did she eat well?” She fidgeted with the pendant around her neck.

“One hesitates to comment on such matters, Lady Penelope. But unfortunately, Lady Punton touched very little of her portions.”

I knew it.

Penelope sighed. “And for breakfast?”

“Lady Punton hasn’t rung for breakfast yet, I’m afraid.” The butler pursed his lips sympathetically. “Though such an aversion to food is not out of place for those in grief.”

“So they say.” Penelope smiled weakly. “Thank you, Mr. Rowley. Will you please inform me once she’s awake?”

“Certainly, Lady Penelope.”

She continued to the morning room, where she found the dowager duchess breaking fast by herself, the morning paper lying untouched at her elbow.

“Already up and about, Lady Penelope?” chirped the older woman. “Well, I’ve never had a daughter, so I have no clue how quickly they can recover from a ball.”

“But surely you rememberyourdays as a debutante, Your Grace,” Penelope chuckled.

“Heavens! That was so long ago I fear reaching so far into my memories will knock me out on the spot!” the older woman joked, before gasping. “Speaking of poor memory, I almost forgot, how’s your ankle, darling?”

“In truth, I had almost completely forgotten it myself,” Penelope replied, as a pang of guilt struck her heart.

I mean, it’s stillsomewhattrue.Penelope looked down at her plate.I simply neglected to mention that the reason I had forgotten about it was because it wasn’t a real injury.

The next few minutes passed in comfortable silence, but Penelope couldn’t shake the feeling that Her Grace was watching her.

Sure enough, as she lifted her teacup to her lips, she immediately met the dowager duchess’ gaze.

“Is something wrong, Your Grace?” Penelope’s heartbeat quickened, worried that the older woman suspected her of lying after all.

“I wanted to ask you the very same thing,” came the kind reply. “Once again, I’ve never had a daughter, but I doubt the crumbs you’re inhaling are enough to keep up your strength.”

Confused, Penelope looked down at her plate and realized that she too had been unintentionally mirroring her mother’s own lack of appetite.

“Oh.” She smiled sheepishly. “I suppose I could have another slice of toast and butter... and perhaps an egg.”

The dowager duchess lowered her cutlery and dabbed her lips with a napkin. “If you don’t mind me asking, pet, is this because of your father or your mother?”

She widened her eyes in response, pleasantly surprised by how insightful her host was. “In truth, Your Grace, I suppose I’m more worried about Mother than anything else.”

“I thought so.” The other woman nodded. “When we were younger, your mother was quite the morning person. So, you can imagine my surprise when I found out from Rowley that she has yet to leave her room at all today.”

“I’m afraid the grief has practically paralyzed her, Your Grace,” Penelope confessed. “I’ve tried to help, but nothing seems to be working.”

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