Penelope supposed it was somewhat odd that she was so far from Dunloch Castle when she was to be wed so soon, but she had good reason to be in London – not that she could share that with Lady Fitzgerald.
"I shall be leaving soon," she reassured Lady Fitzgerald. "I am just waiting for some clothing I have ordered from the modiste before I leave. My parents are here with me tonight – the Earl and Countess Strachan. They would be honoured to make your acquaintance."
Cecily's aunt smiled at that. "Well, that is a good plan. I am far too old to be making the journey to Scotland, so I doubt I shall see the wedding – or indeed Dunloch Castle again. I should be pleased to meet your parents now, here in London."
Penelope did not point out that the wedding was to be a small affair, with no guests she knew of being invited, save her parents. She did not even think that the Duke planned to have his sisters in attendance, since he had not even told them of his betrothal, let alone arranged for them to return to Scotland – but explaining any of that would invite questions. For why would a duke marrying an earl's daughter want to keep the ceremony so small? It surely hinted at problems, or at the very least the whiff of scandal.
Penelope had no choice but to accompany Lady Fitzgerald to where her parents were and introduce them before she was finally able to make her escape and speak with Cecily. Uninterrupted, they stepped out together onto the balcony, in the guise of needing some air, and Cecily immediately turned to her, her eyes sparkling.
"I have a plan," she announced, and although those words had got Penelope into enough trouble already, her heart began to quicken. This was what she needed – a plan to win back the Duke's trust.
"My sister is here with us," Cecily continued. "I have just lost sight of her for the moment. Antonia – she is eighteen and has not been out in society long. And I am rather afraid that she is about to make a terrible match."
"Oh?" Penelope asked, rather surprised by this information. She was not sure how it could help her in her quest to win back the trust of the Duke.
"My brother wishes for us to wed," Cecily continued, "but I am quite sure he would not be keen on this match."
"Why not?" Penelope asked, beginning to see where she might come in useful.
"He is a notorious rake, and a gambler, and at least ten years her senior. But she believes herself to be in love with him, and nothing I have said so far has made any difference."
"You wish me to speak with her?" Penelope asked. "I will happily do so, but I can't see that she will listen to me, a woman she has not met before, if she ignores the advice of her sister."
Cecily shook her head. "No, I believe you are right there. I should like you to speak tohim."
Penelope's eyes widened. "I think I have misrepresented myself if you believe I am capable of talking a rake out of paying court to your sister, or indeed of making him listen to me at all."
She was keen to help Cecily and to win back the Duke's good favour. But this did not seem like a task she was well-suited for. She might have been silly, and foolish, and reckless when she had been at Dunloch – but that had all been rather out of character. She couldn't speak to a notorious rake and warn him off an eligible young lady.
"You know how much my brother values honour and our good reputation. I cannot tell him of this, for by the time he gets here, it may be too late to stop Antonia from doing something silly. She is young and flighty and believes only in romance and happy endings. But if you could make the man who has set his sights on her see that she is not alone and unprotected, that there will be consequences if he chooses to continue down this path, then I know my brother would be grateful. And so would I."
Penelope rather thought that Antonia would be less grateful, but she did not say so. She had to trust that Cecily knew what was best. And if this could save the Dunloch reputation, and prove to the Duke that she wanted only what was best for him… Well, then she supposed it was worth trying.
She nodded. "Very well. I will try – although I am not promising that I can be successful."
Cecily beamed.
"Excellent. I shall point them out to you."
"They are here tonight?" Penelope asked with a gulp. She had not expected to have to deal with the man so soon.
"Yes. Antonia does not attend many balls – my aunt does not want society to grow weary of her, as she believes it has done of me."
Penelope was beginning to feel rather sorry for the pretty sister of the Duke of Dunloch. For while her brother had been raised with all the expectations upon him, it seemed she had shouldered the brunt of the disappointment. Penelope reckoned she was two years or so younger than herself and so had been out in society long enough to attract a husband, if that was what she so wished – and it did seem that that was her aim. She wondered why she was yet unwed and spending the season with her elderly aunt rather than as a wife in her own home, hosting her own balls.
That was not a question for now. It would be presumptuous for her to ask – but Penelope promised herself that night that when she was Duchess of Dunloch, she would ensure Cecily found a worthy husband.
They turned to face the ballroom, and Cecily scanned the crowd. "There, that’s Antonia, in the green," Cecily said, pointing out a petite young woman with a mass of dark blond curls pinned up around her crown. She was surrounded by many gentlemen, all clamouring for a dance, and it seemed she would not have any trouble finding a husband.
Although, if Penelope could not help her, she might end up with the wrong one.
"And the gentleman in question?"
Cecily tutted. "I am not sure I would call him a gentleman, with the reputation he has…" She glanced around the room. "Aha, there he is. Just entering the ballroom and removing his top hat."
"In the velvet waistcoat?"
"That’s the one."
