Page 45 of Saved By the Rakish Duke

If Penelope wasn’t so worried about the seating arrangements, she could have probably taken advantage of the introductions and acquaintances Her Grace made for her here tonight to add to her family’s repertoire of connections.

At last, dinner had arrived and just as His Grace had said, Penelope found herself between Lords Direpeak and Newshore.

Penelope knew it would be easier to start with Lord Direpeak, but the marquess was the first to offer to replenish her bowl of soup.

“Thank you, Lord Newshore,” she just about managed to squeak out, earning a glare from His Grace.

Perhaps sensing her discomfort, the marquess offered her a reassuring smile. “Isn’t this spread rather impressive, Lady Penelope?”

“Indeed, Lord Newshore.” She cleared her throat, “We're practically up to our eyes in food.”

“If you want to speak about drowning in food...” Lord Direpeak finally joined them, “then you simply must hear about my visit to Saint Leys.”

“Not this again, Dee,” groaned the marquess.

Penelope was surprised to hear them speak so familiarly with each other.

“If this story bothers you so much, then look the other way, Newshore,” huffed the earl. “I’m addressing Lady Penelope.”

“Now that’s not fair,” tutted the other gentleman. “Anyone can see from her demeanor that Lady Penelope is far too kindhearted to turn down your boring stories.”

Penelope let out a chuckle. “Your kind words are much appreciated Lord Newshore. However, I fail to see how any story about ‘drowning in food’ could be boring.”

As their spirited discussion carried on, Penelope—once again very aware that she listened attentively for the next few minutes for opportunities to apply everything she had learned.

However, she barely had to exert herself as the conversation flowed freely. Yes, it was somewhat challenging having to balance her attention between the two gentlemen.

But whenever she did manage to get a quip in, Penelope could swear that His Grace’s face lit up every time, which only added to her elation.

Duncan also had a lady sitting on either side of him, but the one on his right didn’t seem as interested in speaking to him. However, he didn’t seem to mind because Lady Cecilia appeared to be more than enough to occupy his attention.

With so many guests present—and with two bubbly gentlemen to pay attention to—Penelope couldn’t hear everything His Grace and Lady Cecilia were saying, but she did hear the other lady giggle as she let out a, “Your Grace, you’re just too much!”

What was even more fascinating was how His Grace managed to elicit such a reaction seemingly without breaking a sweat. As his companion giggled, sighed, and twirled her hair, the duke’s smile remained easy, his shoulders relaxed, and his expression polite.

It seems His Grace has a fondness for blondes.Penelope quietly noted, not knowing why she felt a twinge of disappointment as she thought this.

No, I’m not disappointed, I’mgratefulthat I have reddish-brown hair instead.

“...rather preposterous!” Steepwharf declared, snapping her out of her daze, “But then again, perhaps a woman’s insight would serve us better. What doyouthink, Lady Penelope?”

Both gentlemen looked at her expectantly.

“Er...” Penelope answered slowly, “I... believe both sides make excellent points, perhaps it’s all simply a matter of... timing?” Her inflection rose a little higher towards the end of her remark, betraying her uncertainty.

It was unclear how long Penelope had allowed her mind to wander, but it was apparently long enough that she now didn’t have even a crumb of a clue of what they were talking about.

But her listeners didn’t seem to mind. Lord Newshore even appeared impressed. “Now that is afascinatingpoint about timing.” He looked past her at Lord Steepwharf. “For example, in Somberley’s case,mysuggestion be preferred to-”

This was her chance to catch up on whatever was going on, but Penelope simply couldn’t stop her eyes from wandering across the table once more.

What could he possibly be saying to make her laugh so much?she wondered.

CHAPTER15

“More brandy, Your Grace?”

“Yes, thank you, Lord Orstenbridge.” Duncan smiled, holding out his glass.

---