Page 27 of The Duchess' Ultimatum
She laughed further. “It is a fine line to walk. Doing the right thing for those you love, even if you know they will hate you for it…” She bit into her lower lip, and he saw a thought pass behind her eyes, the sense that she knew a little too well of what she spoke. “But I sense that she is not nearly as against it as you think. She is just stubborn. Perhaps she takes after her brother.”
“She does that,” he scoffed. Then he looked closely at his wife, feeling the need to deter her, while finding that he did not want to. Dorian never spoke about his sister, and he hated the idea that others might think her strange and judge her. But he knew too that wasn’t Penelope, just as he found hewantedto tell her.Although why I do… I can’t say.“Yes,” he admitted with a resigned sigh. “This party is being thrown for my sister’s benefit. Long overdue, and hopefully not too late.”
“You don’t sound very pleased about it.”
“More pleased than she is.” He exhaled and gave his head a shake. “Truly, I will be happy when it’s all done with. Assuming it works the way I hope.”
“To find her a husband, you mean?” She fixed him in a knowing stare, not giving him a chance to wiggle free.
“You are far more perceptive than I would have thought… or wished for, for that matter.”
She rolled her eyes. “Three days of this and it’s about time I figured it out. And for the record, if you had told me about it earlier, it might have saved the two of us a lot of the hassle.” She laughed then, and it sounded good to Dorian’s ears. “Honestly, how am I supposed to help you if you won’t let me? I am not a magician.”
“I guess I hoped that you wouldn’t.”
“You won’t get rid of me that easily.”
“Believe me, I have long since figured that out for myself.” And then, in a most surprising turn of events, they laughed together, the first time they had dared to do so.
A most dangerous moment… one I can’t allow to happen again.
They were sitting in Dorian’s office, as they had done now the past three days. She sat across from him, the same seat she always took, happy to do as he asked of her… as long as he explained his reasoning. His wife was nothing if not argumentative.
They argued a lot, in fact. Always, it seemed, over the smallest of details. What food to serve. What games might be played. What music should be listened to. Everything he said was answered with a rebuke such that he had come to expect it from her.
The question she asked this time was brought forward because they were finalizing the guest list. Most of those who Dorian wanted were perfectly natural requests, but Penelope appeared confused by some of them, mostly the lords who Dorian insisted on inviting, even if he was not so close to them.
They were for his sister, of course, men he wished her to meet so that maybe one would catch her eye. Dorian hoped he would not have to explain this to Penelope, but she pushed, he pushed back, and then she made the leap and asked the question to which she had already known the answer.
And so it was, the illusion of a surface level arrangement shattered, and Dorian could feel the tension melting as Penelope began to feel more comfortable around him in ways he wanted to avoid but suddenly wasn’t so willing to dismiss.
Maybe my sister is not the only one desperate for outside company…
“Might I ask…” Penelope hesitated, biting into her lower lip because she seemed to sense the magnitude of the moment as much as he did. “Your sister. Why is she….” She hesitated. “She does not leave the house often, does she?”
He laughed bitterly. “You have noticed that for yourself, I am sure.”
“Can I ask the reason?” she followed up. “Barbara seems perfectly – she is lovely,” she tried instead. “I would have never guessed her for a recluse.”
Dorian winced at the terminology. Indeed, his sister was a shut-in, and even he did not entirely understand why. He had asked her, of course, and he had tried to make her tell him. When he left for the war over ten years ago, she had been perfectly happy and normal in every way that mattered, and it wasn’t until he returned eight years later that she had begun to refuse ever to leave the house.
Something had caused it. Something hadhappenedto her. But she refused to tell him, and after years of trying to findout, Dorian stopped asking, figuring it did not matter how it happened, only that he might be able to help her.
To see her happy and healthy finally, that was all he ever wanted.
“It is nothing you need to concern yourself with,” he said a little too sharply, to which he saw Penelope lean back as if struck. “That she is a little antisocial… that is all which matters. And hopefully, by the time this party is hosted, it will be a problem of the past.”
“I did not mean to pry,” Penelope said, her voice tender.
“Yes, you did,” he said, looking away with shame. “But you’re not the first to do so. I’m more than used to the judgement by now.”
“I wasn’t judging.”
“You were.”
“No,” she said, sitting herself up and fixing him with a stern look. “I certainly was not. And if you knew anything about me – which you do not, you would know that I am not one to judge.” She raised an eyebrow at him in warning, daring him to argue.
Dorian sighed. “I suppose you’re right. I… I should not have assumed.”
