Page 93 of Saved By the Rakish Duke

“Yes, please,” Penelope answered, her gaze lingering on the door just a moment longer than she meant it to.

* * *

“Thanks, Harls!” Duncan leaned forward to ensure that his whisper could be heard—given the lateness of the hour, it was probably wise to make as little noise as possible for the neighbors’ sakes.

“M-hmm!” Harlington groaned from somewhere within the darkness of the coach. “G’night!” he slurred.

Duncan gently closed the coach's door with a nod of thanks to the driver. Rubbing the back of his neck as he climbed the steps up to the manor.

He had met Fairhaven and Harlington at the Stock Exchange just after it had closed so that the three of them could approach Lord Embersfield with their proposal.

Thank Providence, it all went well—so well that Lord Embersfield had invited them all for drinks, but he seemed to have a penchant for Harlington specifically and basically ensured the poor marquess’ cup was always overflowing for the entirety of their visit.

Ever since drinking himself to the point of illness a few weeks ago, Duncan found it necessary to exercise extra restraint lest he somehow slipped back into it again.

The slight tipsiness gently humming behind his eyes, Duncan began to climb the steps to the house, now plunged in darkness given the hour.

Letting himself in, he exhaled as he began to remove his coat. But his relaxed muscles quickly tensed when he spotted an orange glow coming from down the hallway. He craned his neck to get a better view and noted an orange glow seeping from the slightly ajar kitchen door.

He immediately checked the grandfather clock to his right and it told him it was currently a quarter to midnight.

All of the servants should be asleep by now.

This naturally meant that whoever it was rummaging around in the kitchen had to be an intruder. Duncan looked around for a weapon he could use in case the unwelcome guest was armed, but the best he could find on such short notice was an umbrella.

He flipped it around so that he could grip it by its tip, knowing the hardened handle would be more effective in deterring any trespassers.

It’ll have to do,he supposed.Once I’m in the kitchen, I can grab one of the pans on the shelves.

Duncan inched his way towards the kitchen, stepping as quietly as he could. He pressed his back against the wall so he could peek through the ajar door and count how many intruders he would have to fend off.

Duncan knew he should have been expecting the unexpected, but seeing the kettle on the stove still surprised him. After all, what sort of intruder would-

He almost jumped out of his skin when a delicate arm came into view, a folded rag in hand to help lift the kettle from its place.

Lady Penelope?

He didn’t think it was possible, but the sight of her suddenly made him even more nervous than the thought of an intruder.

She must have been unable to sleep.Duncan concluded,I should let her brew her tea in peace.

He turned to leave as quietly as he had arrived, but a terrible thought halted him in his tracks. Given the lateness of the hour and the fact that no other staff were around, what if an intruderdidhappen to break in whilst Lady Penelope was alone in the kitchen?

What are the chances of such a significant coincidence happening?he argued with himself. But then again, he knew that if he went upstairs now, he’d hardly be able to sleep from the worry and then he’d likely come all the way downstairs again to watch over her until he was certain that she had returned to bed safely.

I might as well stay here and cut out all of that unnecessary hassle,Duncan finally decided, reasoning that Lady Penelope was unlikely to stay too long in the kitchen anyway.

He stifled a yawn as he leaned across the wall, allowing himself to gradually slump onto the floor—exhausted after the long day he had had.

A few minutes passed in serene silence, the umbrella now lay on Duncan’s lap as he—thankfully—found himself fighting off his drowsiness rather than any possible intruders.

A noise to his left suddenly alerted him. It sounded like sniffling. Slowly rising to his feet, Duncan inched closer to the kitchen door.

Sure enough, he had heard correctly. He couldn't see Lady Penelope from here, but he could hear her much clearer. Once again, a conflict arose within him.

On the one hand, he was probably the last person she wanted to see. But on the other hand, he worried that something serious might have happened to her since he had left the house earlier today.

Each of Lady Penelope’s sniffles felt like heavy stones crushing his chest and when a muffled sob rang in his ears, Duncan decided that was it.

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