Page 36 of Saved By the Rakish Duke

I wish Lord Belmere all the very best with that futile endeavor. Penelope chuckled to herself.His Grace has made it perfectly clear that he’s somehow even more opposed to the idea of marriage than evenIam.

Speaking of whom, Penelope spotted His Grace out of the corner of her eye confidently striding towards them with another dark-haired gentleman in tow.

She straightened her shoulders at once, realizing what was about to happen. Sure enough, His Grace arrived with a larger-than-usual smile. “Sorry to interrupt your discussion, Mother, but Lord Steepwharf is rather keen to say hello.”

Penelope listened attentively to the pleasantries they exchanged. From what she gathered, Her Grace and Lord Steepwharf’s parents had been on rather good terms—perhaps as close as Penelope and Graystone’s families had been.

However, when she glanced over at Lord Steepwharf and the Duke of Blackmoore standing side-by-side, she thought she sensed an air of tense discomfort between them.

“And Lady Penelope, please allow me to introduce the Viscount Steepwharf.” His Grace gestured with an open hand. “Lord Steepwharf, this is Lady Penelope, daughter of the late Earl of Punton, and my mother’s goddaughter.”

Be observant, alert, and deliberate.Penelope hastily reminded herself as she and Lord Steepwharf exchanged greetings.

“We’re so pleased that you could join us, Lady Penelope,” beamed the viscount. Penelope noted the laugh lines around his eyes crease. “It’s a pity it took so long for us to be introduced.”

“Indeed.” Penelope let out a nervous chuckle—suddenly keenly aware that His Grace was observing this entire exchange.

But realizing that this fact should be spurring her onwards rather than holding her back, Penelope sucked in a deep breath to renew her conviction.

As the group continued to converse about the Season so far, Penelope had no choice but to rely on body language alone to get Lord Steepwharf’s attention.

She pulled out her fan in the hopes that the movement would draw his eye to her—and it did indeed. When she ‘caught’ him looking at her, she coyly averted her eyes, ensuring to slightly turn her lips upwards to appear embarrassed.

“Now that your sister’s happily married, you can finally focus on fixing your own marriage, Steepwharf,” the dowager duchess teased.

“Oh, it is most unwise to rush into such matters, Your Grace,” rejoined the viscount. “Regret is a rather heavy burden to carry for the rest of one’s life.”

Penelope leaped at this chance. “But surely if you met the right person, Lord Steepwharf…” she interjected breathily, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, “…you would hardly regret it then, right?”

“O-Of course,” he sputtered in response. “A rather excellent point, Lady Penelope.”

“The Season is still young,” chirped Her Grace. “You very well might meet the right person sooner than you think.”

This time, Penelope didn’t have to use her fan to draw his attention. Discreetly checking out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him steal a curious glance at her upon hearing the dowager duchess’ reassurance.

She couldn’t help but smile to herself upon realizing just how well this was going and wondered if His Grace had noticed it too.

Partially hiding her face with her fan, Penelope shot an eager look in the duke’s direction, hoping to find him showing even a hint of pride at her success thus far.

But to her bewilderment, she was instead met with an uncharacteristically cold expression from the Duke of Blackmoore.

Am I doing something wrong?she worried.

But this inner question was soon answered by Lord Steepwharf politely asking, “Would you care for a stroll, Lady Penelope?”

It took all of her strength tonotjump in celebration. Naturally, she still remembered that flirting with the viscount was just supposed to serve as practice. However, she could hardly believe that she had even managed to get this far.

She stole another glance at His Grace thinking that he must surely acknowledge this milestone. But this time, he appeared to be paying no attention to the discussion whatsoever, evidently distracted by something—or perhaps someone—on the other side of the garden.

Not allowing her annoyance with His Grace to dampen her spirit, she answered the viscount with a chipper, “Most certainly, Lord Steepwharf!”

With the dowager duchess’ permission, the two began meandering down the garden path, politely greeting other guests as they passed them.

“Your grounds are impeccable, Lord Steepwharf,” Penelope remarked politely.

“Thank you, Lady Penelope,” he chuckled in reply. “Now that we’re acquainted, perhaps one of these days we shall get to pay a visit toyourfamily’s estate.”

“But of course-” Penelope began, but then remembered the wretched monster of an uncle that awaited her back at home and found herself disheartened.

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