Page 89 of Saved By the Rakish Duke

“What should I do?” she squeaked out in defeat.

Graystone shifted in his seat. “That depends on who the other man is—that is, who the real object of your affection is.”

His words implied another accusation—yet another testament to how well he knew her. But he was polite enough to leave it unsaid for Penelope’s sake, it was but a means to give her the benefit of the doubt—a chance for her to prove his assumption wrong.

But when she merely continued to toy with the edge of her blanket, Graystone had little choice but to let out an exhale at the fact that he had—once again—presumed correctly.

“Penny... you swore you wouldn’t let your guard down.”

“And I didn’t!” she exclaimed. “I was prepared to reject any unwanted interest, but I-” her voice faltered momentarily, “I didn’t expect that unwanted interest to be from my side.”

“Penny!” Graystone’s voice grew frustrated for the first time since his visit began, dragging a hand over his face before lowering his voice again, “Not only is a rake like him not worth the sacrifice, but do you also mean to tell me that you’re questioning whether to marry a perfectly fine gentleman like Lord Gloushire when you don’t even know how the other man feels about you?” he hissed.

Penelope’s fingers began to tremble, unintentionally prompting Graystone to soften his approach.

“All I’m saying, Penny...” the chair creaked as her companion inched it closer, “You simplymustmarry Lord Gloushire.” His eyes bore into hers earnestly. “There is simply no angle from which the alternative would work bette-”

“Of course I intend to marry him!” Penelope choked out, ignoring the stinging tears that had begun to well up behind her eyes. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

Her reply took Graystone aback—literally and metaphorically—as he leaned back in his chair.

“But did you just ask me if you were making a mistake?” His head tilted sideways as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Yes, I was merely asking for your opinion.” Penelope cleared her throat. “I may be a fool who allowed her heart to get the better of her, but...” her voice slowed as the weight in her chest grew, “I am not so far gone that I have completely lost sight of the reality of my circumstances.”

“That’s a relief to hear.” Her friend shot her a mischievous smile. “I was beginning to suspect that that accursed wretch’s charm was powerful enough to incapacitate even your sharp mind.”

Penelope reached for the pillow next to her and threw it at his face. “You’re still the most unhelpful man I have ever had the displeasure of meeting!”

Graystone dodged the pillow with a lighthearted laugh, before clearing his throat as his expression grew more serious, “With regards to your question, Penny... you said it yourself, you don't have an alternative. In that case, rather than being a mistake, marrying Lord Gloushire is the only correct choice.”

Penelope swallowed in acceptance, Graystone’s straightforward reasoning proving undeniable and irrefutable as usual.

“Thank you...” she met his gaze, “...for the assurance. I had thought as much myself, but it is, of course, very different when someone else says so.”

“Marry him, Penny,” Graystone urged her once more, as if he hadn’t already made his point very clear. “I amcertainyou won’t regret it—unlike the alternative.”

“I will,” Penelope promised—not just to him, but to herself as well. “You’re right...”

“As usual,” came the smug addition.

“I thought bedside visitors were supposed to make the infirm feel better, not worse?” she huffed, her hands threatening to throw another pillow at him.

“What do you mean? You look better already.”

CHAPTER30

“And what doyouthink, Lord Gloushire?” the dowager duchess chirped expectantly.

Presently, Her Grace, Penelope, Mother, and Lord Gloushire were gathered around the dining table at Blackmoore Manor discussing the final outcome of the wedding breakfast trials.

“It truly is perfect this time! I thank you all ceaselessly for your hard work.” The viscount dabbed the corners of his mouth as he gestured to the food in front of them. “And did you say that your cook will share all of her notes and recipes with our cook?”

“That is correct!” The dowager duchess beamed with pride. “I had also mentioned to Lady Penelope that if it were agreeable to you, it might be easier to have some of our kitchen staff assist yours on the night before and the day of the wedding breakfast. It might prove-”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary, Your Grace!” Penelope’s fiancé waved a sheepish hand. “We’ve troubled you more than enough as it is and-”

“Nonsense!” Her Grace cut him off. “As I explained to Lady Penelope before, it is my pleasure and honor to be able to play a role in this momentous occasion.”

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