He strode from the house, out towards the loch, without even thinking where he was going. He just needed to be away from her, from the house – to have some space to breathe. For the second time in twelve hours, he felt like the breath had been ripped from his lungs.
There was still dew on the grass and he sent droplets flying as he stomped past the loch and away from the house.
Was she planning to trap him in marriage? He had known she was no commoner, but he had not thought she would be so highborn. He could not escape the fact that he had been living under the same roof as the daughter of an earl for nearly a week.
He’d known if anyone found out, it could be an issue. But now, he could not see how they wouldnotfind out. For he couldsend her home today – and he certainly would do so – but her parents were not going to accept her not telling them where she had been.
And once they knew, they would expect a proposal of marriage. Of course they would. He imagined himself in their situation. If one of his sisters had been unchaperoned with a gentleman for a significant period of time, no matter whether or not anything untoward had occurred, he would be insisting on marriage.
Or calling the man out if he refused.
James muttered an expletive under his breath and kicked a tree stump, which did nothing but make his foot ache.
He always thought everything through. Always. How had he not foreseen that keeping her – Penelope – in the house would inevitably cause trouble?
He did not want to be trapped into marriage. He was furious with himself, for not thinking of this, and with her, for putting him in this position.
And if there was a niggling voice in the back of his head that asked whether it would be so bad to marry her – especially since she was an eligible young woman, from what she said – he ignored it.
When he did marry, it would be well-planned, to a young lady who had been properly vetted and was the ideal candidate.
Not to some woman who washed up on the shore and turned his world upside down.
As he began to make his way back to the castle, he struggled to control his anger at himself. Why had he been so foolish? He had been judging his father for an ill-advised dalliance, but his own behaviour was equally questionable. Why had he not sent her to another nearby estate, with females in residence, and washed his hands of her immediately?
And why had he allowed this to go on for so long?
For surely he was left with two options now: marry the girl, or have her parents (and the rest of society) believe he was bringing shame to the dukedom.
And that was something he had been trained never to do.
Chapter Eighteen
Penelope sat alone at the breakfast table, wondering how long she should wait for the Duke. She’d expected him to be shocked, certainly, that she’d recovered her memory all of a sudden – but she had not expected him to simply run from the room.
Did he know her parents, and that was the reason for his surprising reaction?
Or did he not believe that she had really regained her memory…or that she had ever lost it in the first place?
That had been her chief concern, but surely in that case, he would have been angry with her – not taken himself off for an impromptu walk through the grounds, something which she knew was very out of character for him?
Her stomach was churning too much to eat, so she simply sipped her tea and hoped he would soon return.
Unfortunately, the large window in the dining hall faced the back of the estate, and not the loch, which was where she had seen him heading when he had left the study, so she had not laid eyes on him in quite some time. Every now and then the footman would appear to see if anything was needed, and, Penelope thought, to check whether the Duke had yet appeared, but apart from that, she was left entirely alone.
It was only when she gave up on waiting for him and her appetite to return, and left the dining hall, that she saw him.
He was standing in the doorway of the castle, looking frozen with indecision. When he saw her, he turned red, and she wondered if she should say something – although she had no idea what.
"Join me in the library," he said eventually, before turning and heading towards the open door without a backward glance.
She did not like being ordered around, but she followed him anyway, needing to know what was behind his response.
She closed the door behind her, even though of course she should not be alone with him in a confined space, but he did not seem to notice. He was pacing, and she rather thought he was nervous – something she had not seen in him before.
"I’m sorry if I shocked you this morning," she said, when he did not seem to be ready to speak. "I was surprised myself to suddenly know who I was, and thought I should tell you without haste."
The Duke nodded. "Indeed. You were right to. My shock came…" He stopped pacing, and indicated a chair by the fire. "Please, sit." He sat down himself on a wingback chair opposite, and crossed his legs. "Lady Penelope," he said, and it was rather a shock for her to hear his name on his lips, after so many days of it not being spoken. "You must realise, now you have regained your memory, what a precarious position we are in."
