The duke stood before her with papers tucked under his arm and a small lamp in his free hand. He looked left and right before whispering, “Get dressed, we have much to discuss.”

Penelope considered slamming the door shut and telling him to return at a more sensible hour. Her eyes returned to the papers under his arm once more and she wondered if they had to do with their secret undertaking.

“Where are we going?” She raised an eyebrow.

“At this hour? Nowhere,” he answered matter-of-factly. “But I’m worried that if I touch anything else in your room, you’ll have it thrown out or sent away, so let’s use the library instead.”

She looked down at her robe before nodding, “All right, Your Grace. I shall get changed at once and meet you there.”

“But then you’ll have to change again once we’re done.” He shook his head. “Just throw on any old cloak or shawl, and let’s go.”

Soon, the pair were quietly inching their way down the darkened hall, led by the small lamp His Grace carried.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” she whispered to him.

“We’ll be fine,” he assured her. “The servants are already in their quarters, and our mothers went to bed almost an hour ago.”

Even so, Penelope chewed her lip nervously, her eyes flitting to every object that loomed towards them out of the darkness. At last, they reached the stairs, but even these were only barely visible in the diminished candlelight.

“Here.” He handed her the papers to hold so that he could free up his right arm, which he then proceeded to offer her. “I’ll help you down.”

She took his arm but then dropped it almost immediately with a gasp.

“What’s wrong?” he whispered, the concern in his voice evident.

“N-Nothing.” She cleared her throat. “It was nothing.”

Penelope suddenly found herself grateful for the lack of light because at least he wouldn’t notice how hard she was blushing at that moment.

With a deep breath, she took his arm again.

Even though she knew what to expect this time, she still couldn’t believe how muscular he was. Hidden beneath his soft linen long-sleeve was an arm that felt as solid as a steel beam. As they slowly descended the steps, she caught herself thinking about what else he was hiding under his shirt and immediately pinched herself to stop.

“Ouch,” she whispered, just as they reached the end of the steps.

He glanced at her, but she silently waved a hand to indicate that it was nothing important. She dropped his arm once more as they crossed the hall.

When they finally stood outside the library’s door, she pointed to the light seeping out from underneath it, raising her eyebrows in concern.

To her surprise, he chuckled at this and reached for the doorknob. No one was inside, but all of the lamps had been lit and a stack of newspapers waited for them on the center table.

Even though she had never entered their library before, she knew for a fact, that the furniture had been rearranged because at either end of the center table were the two armchairs that he had tried to put in her room.

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“What?” he smirked. “You didn’t want them, so I found them a new home. Or would you prefer that we remain standing for the entirety of this discussion?"

She rolled her eyes and dropped into one of the chairs. “Speaking of which, I suppose we might as well get started now. What did you want to speak about, Your Grace?”

Settling into the other armchair, the duke set down the small lamp he had been carrying and gestured for her to hand the papers back to him. She obliged.

His Grace spread them out on the center table and leaned back. “After some careful research, I have narrowed down your list of prospects, Lady Pen.”

Lifting one of the sheets, he explained, “Here are your best three choices.”

Penelope extended a hand to take it, but he quickly pulled away and added, “But you’re not ready for them just yet.”

“What do you me-”