Page 99 of Saved By the Rakish Duke

CHAPTER34

“Iwas just about to knock,” Penelope blurted out despite knowing full well that she had been standing outside his door for the past five minutes mustering the courage to knock.

“Is there anything I can help with?” asked the duke, his voice sounding a tad more strained than usual. But Penelope could not blame him, of course.

She was probably the last person he wanted to see right now. And she thought the feeling was mutual until they returned from Willowdale Manor an hour ago and Penelope began double-checking her luggage and scanning her room to ensure nothing got left behind in preparation for tomorrow’s departure.

It had been going well until her eyes landed on the empty spot where the armchair had once been the very first night she had let Duncan into her room, the same armchair that she had attempted to send into storage, but which he sent back, arguing with her until finally it was moved to the library downstairs.

The next thing she knew, her feet were carrying her to the duke’s office’s door.

“Can I come in?” was the only response she had for his question. “Please?”

He eyed her from head to toe, his expression far too stoic for Penelope’s liking. For a moment it appeared as though he would turn her away. But mercifully, he gave her a shallow nod before stepping aside so she could step through the doorway.

“Usually, it’smewho shows up unannounced and asking to be let in,” the duke amusedly remarked, closing the door behind them. “It’s nice to have the favor returned for once.”

Penelope couldn’t help but smile, how typical of him to still be so composed and together while she was on the verge of falling apart.

He crossed the room to sit at his desk, but Penelope was more interested in the sofa near the window, resting her hands on her knees once she had carefully sunk down onto it.

The duke eyed her from his spot. As gentlemanly as ever, he was waiting for her to start—to set the tone and pace for the discussion—so Penelope obliged, “I shouldn’t have said all those things to you that night.”

“Why not?” his words punctuated by the absent-minded drumming of his fingers on the desk. “You were right... about many things.”

“But not everything?”

“No,” he cleared his throat. “In truth, it was my fear of hurting you—not the fear of getting hurt myself—that spurred my actions. I wish I had clarified it that night.”

There was a finality in his tone that confirmed what Penelope had been dreading: it was too late. Almost as though he was saying that if only things had gone differently that night, then maybe—just maybe—they wouldn’t be sitting here like this.

“I wish I hadn’t relied on you so much this past Season,” Penelope sighed, allowing her head to roll back onto the sofa’s backrest. “Perhaps then you wouldn’t have deemed me so fragile.”

She tilted her head slightly, shifting her gaze from the ceiling back to him. “I just wish you had told me sooner.”

He stood from his desk, long legs crossing towards her before settling on the other end of the sofa. “A part of me wishes so too. But who’s to say that you would have accepted me if I did?” he said with a dry chuckle. “You could hardly stand me when we first met.”

“You were the same with me!” Penelope retorted, slamming a palm against the plush of the sofa since he was sitting out of her reach.

She let out a small gasp upon fully understanding his words. “Wait... do you mean to say that you were enamored with me from the start?”

“Don’t let it get to your head now,” he snapped back at her with a familiar cheeky brusqueness, before exhaling softly through his nose,

“But yes, I have always thought you were beautiful. Though it was later...” he made an exaggerative gesture with both of his hands, “much, much, much later when I realized that you were equally as wonderful and beautiful on the inside as well.”

Penelope feigned annoyance at the backhanded compliment. “I was just about to say the same for you, but I fear if your ego grows any bigger, you shall need a separate sack to carry it with you wherever you go.”

He threw his head back in giddy, unrestrained laughter at the remark, an intoxicating sound that Penelope drunk as much as she could, not knowing whether today would be her last chance to hear it.

“God help your imminent husband,” the duke sighed with a smile. “If I liked Gloushire a bit more, I would pray that he doesn’t suffer the same fate as I—a man completely undone.”

“And what about me?” Penelope returned his sigh. “What about my fate as a woman doomed to be forever haunted by you?”

The tension in the air grew heavy as he slid closer to her, the sides of his knees stopping just a few inches away from her own, giving her an opportunity to leave or push him away if she wished.

But she didnotwish to do so. Remaining completely still, save for her right hand’s fingers digging into the sofa, anchoring her lest she fall over or crumble under the weight of his gaze.

“Do you truly mean it?” his gruff voice rumbled, finally breaking the silence.

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