Page 11 of The Duchess' Ultimatum
“My meaning is…” Penelope considered what she was about to say, knowing it would not be taken well. “To be honest with you, I would rather like to attend.”
“What?” all three sisters exclaimed together.
“Yes,” Penelope continued, reaching for her saucer of tea and taking a sip. “In fact, I am rather looking forward to it.”
“Penelope…” Evaline grimaced.
“I don’t think you know what you are saying,” Margaret added.
“Did you take a fall?” Alexandra joined in. “Landing on your head, perhaps?”
Penelope laughed. “Nothing as bad as that, I assure you. But my husband has chosen to throw a house party, he has extended an invitation to my sisters and myself. And…” She shrugged as if it was no big thing. “It would be rather rude not to go, don’t you think?”
In response to this, Penelope’s three sisters looked at her as if she announced that she’d fallen in love with a horse and wished to run away with it.
Not that this is a surprise…. after everything that has happened.
And still, Penelope could not help but smirk to herself, knowing something that her sisters could not know, but that which brought with it much excitement. Better still, a sense of resolve that she desperately needed like she never had before.
“So.” She looked at her sisters and smiled as she picked up her saucer of tea and took another sip. “Shall we discuss what to wear? It would be rather embarrassing if we all turned up in the same thing.”
Again, her sisters looked at her with expressions of utmost shock.
For all those who knew Penelope and her situation, they might have shared in her sisters’ surprise at the casualness in which she spoke about her husband. After all, it was three years ago that he abandoned her one day after they married, during which time she had not heard from him once.
Rightfully, when her husband came to mind – even if she did not like thinking about him as such -- fury was what should have filled Penelope. A rightful hatred because her husband deserved nothing less. And for a long time there, that was exactly what used to happen.
Oh, how I used to loathe him. Funny that in all that time, there was a large part of me that knew it to be a forced thing because as much as I hated him, I also felt little for the man I hardly knew. And even less than that.
Truly, Penelope was well past the point of caring about her husband. She had never loved him. She had never wanted to marry him. So, when he left her as he did, she found it hard to really care. Rather, she tried to see the positive.
Her life had become her own and for the first time ever, she decided to treat it as such. Penelope went to parties when invited. She attended balls. She hosted dinners and was never shy about being seen in public. She resolved to be happy in ways that many might have thought to be impossible, and happiness was exactly what she found.
At least, for a while.
All that was to say that when a letter arrived from her absent husband, she was not taken by wrath or distrust, but curiosity. What on earth could he be writing to her about after all this time? She simply had to know.
And that was not even the strangest thing.
What was even more surprising, to Penelope as much as anyone, was the plan which she decided upon but would not tell her sisters because she did not want them to judge her.Just as I do not want to voice it out loud, in case it comes apart.
“Penelope, you cannot be serious,” Evaline was the first to say. “His Grace… after what he did to you…”
“I am aware of what he did to me,” Penelope said simply. “But it was years ago now, and I am not one to hold a grudge.”
“In this instance, you might be forgiven,” Margaret added. “No one would blame you.”
“You are being silly,” Penelope laughed. “My husband saw fit to extend me an invite, and I shall accept. To not do would seem petty.”
“Petty?” Alexandra scoffed. “Pettyis his abandoning you in the first place! Aren’t you curious why he has written to you after all this time? I mean…” She scoffed again. “A party? Why now? To what end?”
“I suppose I will find out.”
Her three sisters stared at her, their confusion growing. Not surprising, because Penelope was only telling them half of what she knew.
As well as the invitation to his house party – the date of which was curiously absent – her husband had also written a personal letter to Penelope. It was a strange letter, no apology given, no explanation at all for why he had left her. Rather, it was a request for her to come visit him as soon as she could so that she might help him arrange the party and ready the house for his guests.
A most strange thing. And was it not for the fact that my name was attached, I might have thought it was meant for someone else.
