Page 63 of The Duchess' Ultimatum
Dorian was not in his bedchamber when Penelope arrived, but for that she as grateful. She did not think that she had ever felt so nervous, so finding it empty gave her time to compose and think through what she meant to do.
Not that more time will make a difference. What I need… are answers. Is it worth me waiting and giving Dorian a chance to decide what he wants and how he feels, or is this marriage doomed to failure?
She sat herself on his bed, facing his closed door, and waited.
Her heart pounded beyond reason. Her legs were shaking – her entire body, in fact. Oh, how she wanted to run to her room and forget this endeavor, refusing that call because this here was a last resort and if she did not follow through then she might spent the rest of her life wondering.
Finally, after what felt like hours, she heard his footsteps down the hallway. Her breath caught in her throat and her body lurched as if her heart was trying to flee when those same steps paused outside the door. Seconds passed… she calmed her breathing the best that she could… and finally the door opened and in stepped Dorian.
He saw her sitting there and balked. “Penelope? What are you –”
“We need to talk,” she cut him off and stood quickly. “Please, before you say anything or… or send me away. You and I…” A smile was forced, needing him to see that this was not an ambush. “We need to talk.”
“About what?” He stood back, the door still open behind him.
“What do you think?” she laughed softly. “About us.”
Dorian considered her and each second that he did stretched to an age. Brow furrowed, biting into his lower lip, she would not have been surprised if he agreed or sent her away.
But she did not back down. She did not look away. She held him in her stare, one that was honest and desperate and open.
“As you say.” Dorian turned and closed the door and Penelope sighed with relief. “Let us talk.”
He remained standing with his back to the door. Arms folded. A flat expression. He held Penelope in it, no sense that he meant to go first. Not that this was surprising.
“I want to apologize,” she began. “How I spoke to you last night – what I accused you of. I know that you are not pursuing Henrietta, just as I know you never would. The reason that I said that was…” She bit into her lower lip, anxiety growing. “I was jealous, if you believe that. Jealous, and eager to shift the blame onto you because I thought it made what I had decided that much easier.”
“Leaving, you mean,” he said simply.
She nodded. “It was a decision not come to lightly, but one I felt I had to justify. And when I saw you and Henrietta talking, I…” She shook her head at how foolish she had been. “I thought that was enough. Proof that I had made the right choice. Better that I was able to blame you for it.”
“I have no designs on Henrietta, Penelope. Surely, you understand –”
“I do,” she spoke over him quickly. “Which is why I started this with an apology. In that I was wrong and I need you to know it.” She looked hopefully at him, praying he might pick up where she had left off.
“Is that all?” he said, eyebrow cocked.
She winced. “Not even a little. What we really need to talk of is us… namely, what I told you I planned on doing. How once this weekend is over, I plan on leaving and never coming back. And the child you promised me, that I no longer wished for it.”
His brow tightened. “And this is… you have changed your mind?”
“Not yet,” she said. “I came here to… to find out if I should.”
She let that sit between them. Dorian was working so hard to appear distant and even uninterested. As if he cared less for what she said, likely thinking this to be some sort of trapped.
Penelope remained assertive, taking a step forward, and then another. Despite Dorian’s removed stance, she could see behind his eyes a glimmer of curiosity. Maybe even hope.
I know him well enough by now to see through the shell. Funny that, admitting how I am starting to understand the man who has worked so hard to make sure I know nothing about him.
“Two nights ago when I came to you,” Penelope started. “I told you that… how I had come to realize what having a child represented. How I have felt empty and alone, without purpose, and that a child might… that it might…” She smiled softly. “How it might fill that hole inside of me. And that I wondered if maybe there was something else that could do that instead.”
Dorian shifted awkwardly and looked away. “Penelope, I can’t tell you if I –”
“I did not come here to ask for you to commit to me,” she spoke over him. As she did, she took another step closer. “I do not expect you to…” She laughed. “To get on your knees and promise that you will fall in love with me – I do not even know if I want that.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I want to know if I am wasting my time,” she pressed, another step closer so that she and Dorian were less than five feet apart. “That is all I want. I know how confused you likely are. That you, as I am, don’t know what you want…” She shook her head again but made sure to smile as she did. “We are the same like that. But because we are the same, I know too that you can see that this… that us. That things have changed.”
