Page 23 of The Duchess' Ultimatum
He nodded once, fixed her in a warning glare, and stormed from the office.
The moment he was free from her, Dorian stumbled and clutched his chest, forced to take deep breaths and bring himself to calm. He had won that little encounter, he knew, taken back some sense of power and put Penelope in her place.
A victory… yet it feels as if I lost something.
He was not proud of himself, he hated that he had spoken to her in such a callous way, and where he wondered now if finally she might just give up and go home because it was so clear to her that he did not want her help, he knew too there was little chance of that happening.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Another two days passed without Penelope seeing her husband. She knew now beyond a doubt that he was purposefully avoiding her. Just as she knew the reason. Frustratingly, there was nothing she could do.
If I take over the arrangements as I did, he will just tell me I have overstepped and refuse to do as he promised. But if I do nothing, the result will be the same. He wants me to fail.
The other option left to her was simply to give up and go home. And as those two days dragged on, the realization growing that her best laid plans were going nowhere, she very nearly considered doing just that. The only thing which stopped her was that whenever she did think about leaving, picturing her return and the life that waited for her, a cold shiver ran through her spine and she felt that same emptiness that had been appearing more these past few months creep deeper inside of her.
She couldn’t give up. Not yet. As to what she was going to do, and how she might force Dorian to change the way he was behaving toward her? She had no idea.
It was for that reason that she found herself on that third day doing as she had done the past two, going for a walk through the back garden. Just to get out of the house. Just to get some fresh air andthink. Praying for an idea to fall into her lap and solve everything.
Hopes and dreams, she knew…or I thought I did.
It was just past mid-morning when Penelope stepped outside, headed west along the stone path because it snaked lazily through the large garden, by far the longest route through the mass of hedges and flower beds. She wasn’t paying much attention, still thinking about the duke and what she might do, and for this reason she didn’t notice that for the first time in almost a week she wasn’t alone.
“Good morning,” a soft voice spoke from down the path.
Penelope almost jumped out of her skin, she was caught by such surprise. Her head snapped up, and her eyes widened to find a young woman standing no less than five feet in front of her.
Penelope had never seen the woman before, and she knew immediately it wasn’t a member of staff. She was about the same age as Penelope, with black hair cut short, a round face with pretty features, and big eyes that were deep blue and curious.
“Did I scare you?” the young woman asked. “I truly didn’t intend to. But the way you were looking at your feet as you walked, the world might be ending and you would not have noticed.”
“I…” Penelope frowned, unsure who this woman was and what was going on. “Yes, I was a little distracted. But you did not scare me.”
“Liar.”
“You did not!”
The young woman hesitated before smiling, as if she wasn’t sure that she should but was taking a chance. “You must be Penelope. I have looked forward to meeting you.”
“I am…” Still, Penelope had not a clue who this woman was. She looked about the empty garden as if for an answer, seeing that they were alone. “And might I ask who you are?”
“You are going to have to, as I doubt you have even a clue who I am.”
“Should I?”
“I would say not,” the young woman bowed her head and scrunched her face. “I would have been truly surprised if you knew anything about me.”
“I… if you tell me who you are, that will certainly change.”
“My fault, I suppose. Or so Dorian would say.” She blew through her lips. “How is anyone to know of me if I refuse to be known. Never mind that I like it that way… or mostly, I do. It does make for rather awkward introductions, however.”
Penelope did not know what to say. This woman, whoever she was, had a strange quality to her. She was clearly a little nervous, unsure about Penelope and how she should behave toward her. But there was also a sense that she did not want to be this way, as if she was fighting that side of herself.
Indeed, where she fidgeted with her hands and stayed back, awkward in how she glanced at Penelope and looked away, there was a glimmer of excitement to her. A sense that she might turn and run at any moment, or break into a smile.
She is nervous about me for some reason, even if she seems to know that she does not need to be. As if she had been told she can trust be but isn’t so sure…
“My name is Barbara,” she offered finally. “Or rather, Lady Barbara Campbell, if you wish to be formal about it. I wouldn’t be.”
