Page 63 of Saved By the Rakish Duke

If he was offended, the duke did an impressive job of concealing it as he calmly retorted, “I don't blame you for assuming as much, Lord Gloushire. But such tactics are unnecessary for those of us who possess natural charm...”

Penelope exhaled in relief.

“...not that you would know what that’s like, of course,” the duke tacked on at the last second, causing the knots in Penelope’s stomach to tighten once again.

She opened her mouth to change the subject, but the viscount was too quick.

“If that were true,” he huffed, “then I wouldn’t have been able to get married in the first place, would I?”

Penelope’s eyes widened in surprise and confusion. “Are you married, Lord Gloushire?”

His gaze snapped to meet hers, his eyebrows shooting upwards as his own words washed over him.

“Iwasmarried,” he clarified hastily, brushing away the hair that the wind had pushed into his eyes. “I am... a widower.”

Penelope nodded slowly as she processed this revelation. “Oh... I see, Lord Gloushire. My condolences, I had no idea at-”

“I thought perhaps the dowager duchess may have mentioned it at some point.” The viscount fidgeted with his hands awkwardly. “But even so, I do apologize if I surprised you with this information.”

“No, no,” Penelope waved his remark away awkwardly, “but I suppose it does make more sense that a gentleman as courteous and agreeable as yourself isn’t a bachelor.”

A movement on the edge of her periphery momentarily caught her attention and she found His Grace carefully studying her expression. Perhaps he wondered whether Penelope truly was as unbothered as she appeared.

Did he plan on causing Lord Gloushire to slip up and reveal this prematurely?she wondered.

Almost as though he had heard her thoughts, His Grace rose from the bench and patted the dust off his pants. “Well, I believe I have intruded long enough, I suppose it’s about time I get back to my duties.”

“Already leaving us, Your Grace?” The viscount stood up as well. “Surely the bulk of your activities don't even begin until sundown?”

His Grace exhaled slightly through his nose at the insinuation. But instead of a retort, the duke simply nodded as he offered, “Have a wonderful day, Lord Gloushire. Ah, and you too, Lady Pen.” He added, “I am certain you two have plenty to discuss.”

She shot him a final glare as he walked past, but it did nothing to wipe away his smirk. When the duke-shaped nuisance had finally departed, Penelope offered to pour Lord Gloushire a cup of tea in the hopes of pressing onward and salvaging what she could.

“It appears that you and His Grace are well-acquainted,” she handed the cup and saucer to him, “so I hope that means I do not have to apologize for his conduct?”

“You shouldn’t have to apologize regardless.” The viscount reminded her, “You are neither his sister nor his mother. But indeed, I am well aware of His Grace’s exploits. I do sincerely hope he isn’t burdening you with them.” He flashed her a knowing look.

“We’ve had our differences, but His Grace has been treating me much better than expected,” came Penelope’s honest answer.

Flashes of her late-night lessons with His Grace appeared in her mind’s eye. Not only was she aware of his exploits, but she had directly benefited from them as he shared everything he knew and even orchestrated events to better enable her to speak with their targeted prospects.

“How relieving to hear that His Grace has even a small measure of decency, despite how well he hides it,” joked Lord Gloushire.

Penelope felt the urge to object, to explain that he was actually quite loyal to his friends, family, and even to her.

But she held her tongue in the end.

After all, how could she ever expect to gain control over the strange feelings she harbored for him if she did nothing but praise him?

Almost as though on cue, Lord Gloushire moved to change the subject to more lighthearted matters, including the book he had mentioned the other night when they were at the opera house.

Once again, Penelope found herself sinking into a comfortable—almost bored—back and forth with the gentleman.

As they spoke, the thought crossed her mind that if she somehow did end up marrying him, then she would have to spend the rest of her life holding similar monotonous discussions.

It’ll be fine,she told herself.It will certainly be much more preferable than marrying Uncle Winston.

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