She had never been more sure of anything in her life than when she entered the quiet little chapel, with only a handful of guests in the pews, and walked towards the Duke of Dunloch.
He was the man she was supposed to marry, she was sure of it, and it had just taken a twist of fate to find him. Well, fate, a poorly-timed excursion in a boat, and a few half-truths…
But there would be no more lies between them, she had promised that. And as she promised to love, honour and obey him, in front of his sisters and aunt and her own parents, her heart fell full of joy.
And that was something she had not thought she would experience in the grey streets of London.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife," the vicar said, and Penelope’s heart began to race.
She was his.
They were wed.
Everything had worked out.
He leant forwards and pressed a brief, chaste kiss to her lips, and she felt like she might explode into flames right there at the front of the chapel.
To applause from their small number of guests, Penelope and James processed back down the aisle, her arm threadedthrough his, and to the carriage that was waiting to take them to her mother and father’s townhouse, where they would celebrate their marriage before returning home.
Home.
"We do not have to stay at this celebration too long, do we?" James asked as the carriage rattled on his way.
Penelope laughed. She found his blunt nature surprisingly endearing. "You do not wish to celebrate?" she asked.
"You know I do. But I long to be back in Dunloch, away from all these people."
"All of them?" she asked lightly.
"Well, all apart from my duchess," he said, tipping her head back and kissing her thoroughly, until she forgot who she was altogether, all the way to Mayfair.
Epilogue
One Year Later
Penelope had loved Dunloch in the autumn, spring and summer, but as winter rolled around, she thought it might be her favourite season there of all. The loch froze solid, and James found wooden skates in the attic for them to attach to their shoes, so they could skate across the frozen lake while snow fell around them.
The woods seemed utterly transformed by the white carpet which fell, capping the trees in snow and making the sunlight that still shone down seem white and magical. When she could not drag James away from his work, she wandered there alone, although she did so on foot – she did not think riding a horse through ice and snow would be sensible, after her previous experience.
As long as she kept herself safe, James did not object to her wanderings, and she often walked into the village with a basket of pies or other baked goods from the kitchens, to share with the villagers. While it had taken a while to get used to being called ‘Your Grace’, Penelope loved every moment of her life as the Duchess of Dunloch.
With all three of James's sisters at home for the festive season, the house was full of joy and laughter, and even James seemed to find time for a little fun in his busy schedule.
They planned to host a Twelfth Night Ball, which her parents, as well as ladies and gentlemen local to both Amblewood and Dunloch, would attend. But Christmas Eve and Christmas Day were just for them alone. On Christmas Eve, Penelope, James, and his three sisters all spent a happy hour out in the woods collecting greenery to decorate the house. Then, when James insisted he must leave to get at least some work done, the ladies decorated the castle with holly, ivy, and kissing boughs of mistletoe, full of the joy of the season.
It wasn't until they went to bed that evening that she realised something was amiss. When her maid had laced her into a new green dress for the occasion that morning, she had struggled to get it done up, but Penelope had assumed that was due to an overindulgence in Cook's marvellous shortbread since she had moved to Dunloch.
That evening, as her maid was brushing out her hair ready for bed, she returned to the topic. "Forgive me, Your Grace, but I noticed you haven't been eating in the mornings..."
Penelope frowned. "I suppose I haven't, as much. I just don't seem to have much appetite when I wake any more. In fact, sometimes the thought of it turns my stomach."
Her maid nodded. "Well, that, combined with your increasing size... Your Grace, I hope you don't think it impudent of me to ask, but I wondered – could you be with child?"
"I–" She did not have an answer. The thought had not occurred to her. When, in the first few months of their marriage, no child was conceived, she found herself a little disappointed, but not terribly so. She enjoyed her time with James, and it was already limited by his work. Their union was a happy one, and they were young – there was plenty of time for children.
And so she had put the thought from her mind and had not noticed the signs that clearly her maid had done.
"Thank you, Mary. I will think on what you have said."
