Page 9 of The Duchess' Ultimatum
“I –” She caught her words. “We have just married –”
“You said that already.”
She levelled a glare at him. “But you are yet to tell me, this marriage, is this how it will be? You and I, pretending that the other does not exist?”
“Is that what you want?”
“I don’t know what I want,” she admitted, only to realize then that there was one thing she did want. One promise she had made to herself that she refused to be denied. “No, actually, there is one thing that I require.”
“Which is?”
“My father,” she said sternly, forcing the duke in her glare so he could see that she was not to be argued with. “He is sick, and he needs me by his side as much as is possible. For that reason, I will be spending much time with him, days at a time I expect, and I would appreciate it if you would not try and stop me.”
Again, the duke studied her.
She fidgeted under his gaze, feeling exposed because she got the sense that he could see right through her. His stare was intense, discerning, and he held her in it as if a magnet force was pulling her.
“That is fine,” he said finally. “You may see your father as much as you wish.”
“Oh.” She blinked. “That is… thank you.”
“In fact, now that we are on the topic, here is what I expect from you.” A raised eyebrow, the tension mounting. “Nothing. Do as you wish when you wish it. All I ask is that you leave me alone.”
Penelope leaned back and frowned, confused and a little unsure by what he meant. “Leave you –”
“Alone,” he finished for her. “Do that and this marriage…. well, it won’t be happy.” He laughed bitterly. “But then again, it was never meant to be.” With that, the duke turned around and walked away.
Penelope was left staring at the back of the duke, and then the spot where he had just been. Her mouth hung open. Her heart was racing. Her confusion was at an all-time high.
What is… what does he… what on earth is going on?!
Again, Penelope tried to tell herself that she should have felt relief. Permission to see her father. The implication that shecould do as she pleased. A marriage in name only to a man who if she so chose it, she might be able to avoid entirely.
And yet… now that there was no chance at all that anything might come of this marriage, she felt empty in ways she never had before and most certainly had never expected to.
Typically, the rest of the evening played out as she had come to expect.
The staff showed her to her room where she found her things already unpacked. Next, supper was told to her that it would be ready shortly. She bathed and dressed and presented herself at the dining room, unsurprised to find it empty, saddened and angry both because she saw now that the duke was not exaggerating in his request.
She wondered if she should go and find him… quickly dismissed because she wanted this.I do! The best of a bad situation.I should be thrilled!
And that night, the first night of her new life, she slept alone.
The morning sun brought with it the same emptiness as she had gone to bed with. Still, Penelope could not come to terms with this marriage, wanting to be relieved, unable to resign herself to the fact, caught in two minds and unable to find a path through them.
But for all the confusion she felt, it was nothing compared to the news she received when she arrived at the breakfast room.
“Your Grace.” The butler’s name was Walters, an elderly man with kind eyes and a kinder smile. “I have some news for you.”
“Oh?”
“It is…” He considered, wincing as he did so. “I spoke with His Grace earlier and there is something you must know. A most urgent message, as it is.”
She sighed as she wandered into the room, wondering what it might be this time. “I am sure there is,” she said as she took her seat. “Let me guess, His Grace asks that I move out? Perhaps live on a farm somewhere so he doesn’t have to look at me?”
“I am afraid not, Your Grace.” Walters hesitated, still looking unsure. “I have been told to inform you that His Grace has left for his country estate in the north.”
“He has?” She blinked slowly, frowned deeply, looked about as if expecting him to walk in. “When did he do this?”
