When she got to the end of her tale, feeling relief at being honest, Cecily stopped and frowned.
"Goodness. James is a stickler for the rules, and he hates being kept in the dark about anything," she said. "I’m not surprised that he was angry – but I am surprised that he broke the rules in the first place, and let you stay." She looked her up and down. "There must be something special about you…"
She said it as though it was not something she herself could see, and Penelope blushed at being so appraised. She had wondered, to herself, whether there was a reason the Duke had allowed her to stay for five days, and not insisted she go elsewhere. Did he feel something towards her? Something which she had then destroyed with her silly plan?
"We are betrothed. The banns have already been read once. But I do not wish to enter into a marriage with a man who hates me. Please, Cecily – is there anything you can think of that I can do to regain his trust?"
They continued to walk, and Cecily said, "I will have to think on it. My brother is a good man, but he’s stubborn too. Once his good opinion is lost… Well, it is hard to regain." She flashed Penelope a smile. "He has written my sisters and me off as silly, vain creatures, simply because we enjoy the entertainment London has to offer."
"I’m sure he doesn’t–"
Cecily shook her head. "You do not need to deny it. I have come to accept it. It is who he is. I do not know what he has told you of his upbringing, but he was raised very strictly, with one goal in mind – to be the next Duke of Dunloch. He lives and breathes that title; anything which does not further his interests as duke is of no interest to him. He never expected to have three sisters to take care of."
"He does seem very singularly focused on his duties and estate," Penelope agreed, as they looped around the park and began to walk back.
"But I want my brother to be happy. And I believe you have good intentions, even if your plan was a little foolish."
Even though she was sure she was older than Cecily, Penelope bowed her head in contrition. It had been more than a little foolish, and she knew it.
"I am attending the Hampton Ball tomorrow night, with my sister Antonia," she said as they approached the gate. "Will you be there?"
"I can be," Penelope said quickly, knowing she had seen an invitation to the ball in the silver tray in the hallway of their London home.
"I will think of any way I can help you," Cecily promised. "As long as you wish to make my brother happy."
Penelope nodded earnestly. "I really do. He will wed me either way, because he is an honourable man – but I want to fix what is broken between us, before we say vows that tie us together for the rest of our lives. I believe we can be happy, as man and wife, if he can only forgive me."
Chapter Twenty-Five
"Well, if you wish to attend the ball, then of course we can," her mother said, surprise colouring her tone. "I hadn’t thought you would wish to, now that you have no need to find a husband…"
Penelope had not realised her dislike of society had been quite so apparent – but clearly she had not hidden it well from her mother, if she was so surprised by her wish to go to the Hampton Ball.
"I think it is important I am seen in society before I am duchess, as well as after," she said, hoping the hastily thought-up excuse made some sense to her mother, for it didn’t make any to her. She did not want to go to the ball, and she had no desire to dance or be the topic of conversation.
But she would put up with it all if it meant finding a way to persuade the Duke he could trust her.
She wore a gown of ice blue, and had her maid Mary braid her hair and then pin it up. She was pleased with her reflection in the mirror. It wasn’t that she wished to impress anyone in particular – for the man she wanted to impress was far away in Scotland – but she was determined that, from now on, she would not bring anything but positivity to the Duke’s title and reputation.
The ballroom was already busy, and Penelope immediately began to look for Cecily. The Duke's sister had certainly not seemed averse to helping her, so she could only hope that she had come up with a plan to do so.
"Goodness me, it is busy tonight," her mother commented, pulling out her fan and wafting it in her face. "Oh, look, I do believe that is Lord and Lady Gerald. They won't have heard the excellent news that Penelope is to be a Duchess. I think perhaps I will just go and share it with them."
"I just need to…" Penelope began, but coming up with an excuse seemed unnecessary; her mother was already moving across the dance floor to see the lady in question, and her father was close behind.
Penelope sighed. She wasn't altogether sure that it was the best idea to go around London bragging about the title she would soon have. After all, it wasn't as though it was any great achievement. In fact, she had come by it rather dishonourably, even if that had not been her intention. And she was not sure whether the Duke would want everyone learning of their marriage in such a way.
But for now, it served her purpose well to have her mother and father out of the way, and so she watched them go and then began to search for Cecily in earnest.
She found her by the refreshment table, wearing a pretty pink gown and accompanied by her aunt.
"Lady Penelope," Lady Fitzgerald said, balancing her weight on a cane held in her left hand. "What a pleasure to see you again."
Cecily had advised her that it was not prudent to tell her aunt the details of her match with the Duke, in case she disapproved and tried to meddle, and so when she had returned to Lady Fitzgerald's home for tea after walking in the park with Cecily, they had said nothing of their plan to meet at the ball.
"And you, Lady Fitzgerald," Penelope said with a polite curtsy.
"I had thought you would be on your way to Scotland by now," the old lady said, narrowing her eyes somewhat suspiciously.
