Page 16 of Saved By the Rakish Duke

The dowager duchess reached out to gently pat her on the hand. “You’ve already done everything you can, pet. The rest is up to Providence and time to heal.”

Penelope let out a disappointed exhale. “Of course, I too miss Father. But that’s different because he was actually a quite loving parent!”

“Are you implying that he wasn’t a loving husband?”

Penelope hesitated to answer for a moment but then remembered the closeness shared between the dowager duchess and Mother. Besides, someone so averse to gossip was unlikely to go around announcing whatever Penelope told her.

“He was... to an extent,” she mumbled. “He was kind, diligent, and generous, but he wasn’t... loyal.”

The dowager duchess nodded. “Ah yes, I believe your mother mentioned an incident in one of her letters many years ago.”

“There weremanymore incidents,” Penelope added through gritted teeth. “After everything he put her through, I sometimes wonder how she can find it in her heart to mourn him so deeply.”

Her Grace sat back in her chair contemplatively. “I still remember when your father first started courting her,” she smiled, “With the tenderness he showed, none of us could have imagined he would turn out that way. But I do believe that no matter what transgressions he committed, he always reserved a special place for your mother.”

“Perhaps.” Penelope acquiesced, her eyes welling up. “But it would be better for everyone’s sake if she would just forget him and the pain he brought as quickly as possible.”

“But how can she do that when she was married to him for almost thirty years?” reasoned the older woman. “I’m sorry, my pet, but speaking as a widow myself, I can safely say it will probably be years before she feels any semblance of normalcy return once more.”

Penelope clenched her fists. Everything that Her Grace was saying was perfectly reasonable and sensible. But it was unbearable to think that Mother still had several years’ worth of heartbreak ahead of her.

“Or perhaps she won’t have years left,” Penelope fretted out loud. “I thought she was getting better these last few days, but now she’s back to barely touching a morsel.”

“I’m afraid the roadway out of grief is meandering and torturous,” answered the dowager duchess. “In my case, it seemed like the grief would come and go in waves. People are very complicated, pet.”

She reached for Penelope’s hand once more. “But don’t worry, your motherwillget better, especially ifwehave anything to say about it, yes?”

Penelope mumbled a quiet thank you, grateful to have someone to share the burden with.

But a loud thump above them disrupted their heartfelt moment. The two women shot each other concerned looks. A few moments later, the sounds of a scuffle and commotion came from the staircase.

“Give it back!” the duke’s voice called out.

Both women rose from their chairs to see what was happening, but before they could take a step, a tangle of arms and legs burst through the door and rolled onto the floor.

“Let go!” exclaimed the red-haired gentleman. “This is your penance for lying to us!”

Another gentleman with dark hair appeared in the doorway but seemed in no hurry to stop the brawl.

The dowager duchess cleared her throat, halting the fight in its tracks. Both men immediately shot up, straightening their clothes and hair. Penelope suddenly recognized that the man His Grace had been struggling with was none other than the Duke of Fairhaven, yet another bachelor of questionable repute.

“Shame on you both for behaving like children first thing in the morning!” Her Grace glared. “And in front of our guest, no less! This is highly unacceptable!”

“I couldn't agree more, Mother. But if only it weren’t for this imbecile-” the Duke of Blackmoore elbowed his companion in the side.

“I want to hear no excuses!” tutted Her Grace. “And what could possibly be worth this disturbance in the first place?”

Both men lowered their heads before the Duke of Fairhaven sheepishly held up a boot.

Before she could stop herself, Penelope let out a snort, earning a deadly glare from the Duke of Blackmoore.

“I intended to confiscate it to teach him a lesson, Your Grace,” the red-haired duke bleated. “For you see, last night, he tricked us into-”

“I don’t want any excuses from you either, Fairhaven!” boomed the dowager duchess, turning to the doorway, she continued, “and what areyousmiling about, Harlington? I expected better from you.”

This stern telling off immediately wiped the grin off of the dark-haired gentleman’s face.

“We’re very sorry, Your Grace,” the Duke of Blackmoore’s friends mumbled.

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