Page 43 of Dueling with the Duke
“I already told you, Mother. I am still recovering from my fall, and I need to rest.”
“Yes, you have told me that.”
Penelope did not say anything more about it, but it was obvious she didn’t believe her daughter completely.
“Did you come up to check on me, or did you need to speak to me?” Bridget asked.
She would rather be left alone to wallow in her self-pity.
I am supposed to be a strong, independent woman, and I am hiding in my room!
“I came to speak to you about something,” Penelope said. “Please, sit down, Bridget.”
Bridget did not want to sit down after being instructed to, but she did so, fearing bad news was coming. All she could think of was the wedding.
“What has happened?” she asked.
“There is a problem with the wedding,” Penelope began. “Normally, I would not come to you with this, but you might be the only one who can reason with him.”
“Him?” Bridget echoed. “Who ishim? Not Lord Michael? I have no influence over him whatsoever. My goodness! His Grace? What has the Duke done?”
“No, not the Duke,” Penelope said, looking weirdly at her daughter. “Your Father.”
“Father?” Bridget asked. “What has he done?”
“It is not what he has done, but what hewilldo. He sent a message this morning informing me that he will walk Margaret down the aisle. I had already spoken to him about it a month ago, and we agreed that he would not. I was worried he would make a fool of himself and ruin the wedding for Margaret. I could not say that to him, of course, but I managed to convince him. Now, he has stubbornly informed me he will walk his daughter down the aisle, and all I can think about is him turning up to the wedding drunk and… well, I don’t want to imagine the chaos that will ensue.”
“I don’t know if I can convince him any better than you can, Mother. He does not listen to me either,” Bridget claimed.
“He does not listen to me,” Penelope insisted. “I know you spoke to him before he left, Bridget. I don’t know what you said to him, but he left amicably and without making a fuss. We might not see him again until we return to London, and that is a good thing for your sister. I need you to do one more good thing for Margaret.”
Bridget sighed. A slight breeze came in through the open window, and it helped to cool her, but it did not lessen her frustration. A bird sang sweetly from a tree just outside the square opening, but it did little to lift her spirits.
“Of course, I will do it, Mother,” Bridget relented. “If he returns to the estate, I will talk to him then, and if not, I shall talk to him in London.”
“Thank you, Bridget,” Penelope said. “Now, please think about how you can solve your other problems and find a man to marry.”
“Mother!”
“Well, am I wrong?” Penelope asked, shaking her head in disbelief.
“Yes, you are. How many times do I need to tell you that I am happy enough as I am? I can see how marriage would be agreeable with the right man, but I don’t believe there is such a man in all of England.”
“Have you looked?” Penelope challenged.
“Have I looked? Yes, I have scoured the entire country, Mother. Is that good enough for you? Please, I need to rest so I can deal with Father if he returns.”
“You must come out of your room soon, or His Grace’s family will start to wonder about you,” Penelope urged.
Bridget sighed. “If they haven’t already.”
Penelope only nodded, as if the response was not a sad one. She patted her daughter on the head and left the bedroom.
Bridget flopped down onto the bed and sighed again. She knew she would have to venture out soon and face the music. She was still mortified from her interaction with the Duke.
Another knock sounded at the door, and she sat back up.
“Enter,” she called, expecting her mother again.
