Page 83 of The Duchess' Ultimatum
Dorian stepped around the broken lord and walked out the front door, smiling as he did so. Revenge felt good. Justice felt even better. But what was to come next, the natural consequence of removing Lord Kenbrook’s influence from his life, was a sensation that was as hard to describe as it was invigorating to feel.
Now, finally, Dorian was free to live his life as he wanted it and as far as he was concerned there was just the one thing he wished for. Her name was Penelope, and he was determined to get her back.
That was assuming, of course, that it wasn’t too late.
Dorian was in remarkably high spirits when he returned home later that same day. With Lord Kenbrook dealt with, there was nothing stopping him from being with Penelope.
There was a small part of him that worried it might have been too late. That sat in the back corner of his mind, refusing to yield as he would have very much liked. But he reasoned that he need not worry as his conscience wished him to. The time for worrying was in the past.
All he needed to do was explain himself to her – for once, being honest with her as he now was with himself. Tell her the reason he had been so against their marriage in the first place. Why he fought it, even when he didn’t want to. Why he pushed and pushed and pushed her away. And why now, after all this time, he was ready. Why things would finally be different.
She might not believe me right away. I might have to fight for her – prove to her that I have changed. For once, that isn’t going to be a problem. Not anymore.
So it was that he wore a smile as he led his horse onto his estate… or he did do, until he spied the carriage sitting by the entrance. It was not one that he recognized, which was why he sensed already that something was wrong.
Dorian was quick to pull his horse up, leaving it by the stables, and then hurrying inside. His stomach squirmed with the sense of impending doom, battered away because he would not allow himself to succumb to such sorrows. Not anymore.
Inside, he found Albina waiting for him.
She stood in the center of the foyer, hands folded before her, a look on her face that made Dorian’s stomach sink. For how desperate he was to fight back the dread that was steadily building, he now found it next to impossible.
“Albina…” He hesitated by the door, not daring to walk all the way in as if that might keep the bad news at bay. “What… is Penelope with you?”
“Your Grace, I am so sorry…” She looked it too, as if this news was as hard for her as it would be for him. “I have just come from speaking with Penelope and she asked me to… she wanted me to tell you that…”
“What?” Dorian demanded. “What did she say?”
“She thinks it is best if you annul your marriage with her. If you cut ties and go your separate ways.” She grimaced as she gave the news and Dorian stumbled back. “I am so sorry, Your Grace. Truly, I am.”
Dorian did not hear the rest of what she had to say. The world turned and then cracked and then crumbled around him as if it meant to bury him where he stood.
This was not bad news. This news was world-ending. Finally, just when Dorian was ready to fight for what he wanted, the chance was taken away from him. And just as he had feared, he was too late to do anything about it.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The estate looked different to how Penelope remembered it. Bigger, somehow. Emptier, and hollower. She watched it grow in size as her carriage slowly cantered along the road and then turned onto the winding drive, the pit in her stomach opening more and more with each passing second.
There was a time not so long ago when she loved her life, as she had her home. Despite living alone and having no one to care for or to care for her, she had made a life here and had convinced herself it was enough. Now, she couldn’t imagine how she was supposed to spend the rest of that same life here. Trapped. Alone. Nothing to live for…
It was early in the evening by the time the carriage came to a stop at the front of the manor. Dark clouds blotted out the setting sun, matching the gloom of the day to her mood perfectly.
The staff were waiting for her, and she forced a smile as she stepped from the carriage…
“Your Grace!” one of her maids greeted as they hurried toward her. “It is so good to have you back.”
“Thank you,” she said, the smile fading. “It is good to be back.”
The maid beamed and looked about to say something else when her eyes narrowed and cast themselves back down the driveway. Brow furrowing, she bit into her lip with a clear sense of concern. “I am sorry, Your Grace. I did not know that guests were expected.”
“Guests?”
“We would have made the spare room, and had the kitchen –”
“There is no guest,” Penelope spoke over her. “Just me.”
“Then who is that?” The maid pointed past her and Penelope turned to follow her raised finger.
It took her a moment to see what the maid was referring to. Darkness sat heavy on the horizon, thick clouds sinking into the earth as if they were one. But through it all, squinting now, Penelope was just about to make out the outline of a rider…
