* * *
Penelope found herself utterly confused and remained in such a state for hours. She spent the morning attempting—and failing—to play the pianoforte, her latest passion. When that did not succeed in diverting her thoughts from Daniel, she attempted to read. She found herself drawn away from her novel by the same thoughts that persisted in her mind. She eventually gave up and took the air until the arrival of her friend, Bridget.
However, even then she found herself inadvertently wandering over to the window time and again to peer out into the woods, mulling over her father’s words again and again.
A rake. No. Never. Men such as these never consider how their actions reflect on the reputations of the poor ladies who fall for their charms. They only think of their own pleasure and entertainment, without a care for the ruin they bring upon these young women.
“Penny?” Bridget called out to her. She turned and saw her friend seated with her legs tucked under her on the chaise lounge. She’d placed her embroidery beside her and looked at her wide eyes. “You have not been yourself all day. Do you not care to hear of my tale at all?”
She forced herself to pay attention to her friend and took a seat beside her. “Of course, I do. I am sorry. I have not slept well this past night. Tell me, did you like Lord Bent any better this morning than on the previous occasion?”
Bridget sneered. “I did not. I am sorry. I know you meant well, but I already knew when I agreed to see him again that I would not care for him. I am sorry, Penny.”
She shrugged at this, already having expected as much. “Do not fret. I have other options. More promising ones. I thought perhaps this upcoming Saturday we could…”
She got no further, for there was a knock at the front door and the butler rushed forth. Penelope craned her neck in order to peer at the commotion, but only managed to spot the back of the butler’s figure. A deep voice asked for her father.
A moment later, the butler closed the door once more and walked past the drawing room toward her father’s library. Exchanging a glance with Bridget, she rose and watched as her father made his way down the hall, rather quick on his feet. He looked in her direction with an expression of concern on his face before continuing on, righting himself before the front door as the butler opened it once again.
“Faith, what is it? Who is at the door, Penny? Penelope?” Bridget’s voice was right in her ear but Penelope barely heard her. In front of her, steps away, she saw the butler step aside as two young men entered the manor. The butler’s deep voice announced the callers.
“Daniel, Earl of Carlton, and Mr. Alistair Mavis, Your Grace.”
She felt her legs shake at the sight of him. Her breath caught in her throat when her eyes fell on him. He’d grown. He’d changed. And yet—he remained the same. A moment later, he turned and his blue eyes settled on her face. Feeling her heart race, she grasped onto the doorframe, her nails digging into the wood. It was him. He’d come home at last.
Chapter 6
Daniel stood in the great hall of Branigan Manor. He remembered the last time he’d been here, the morning he left for Eton. He remembered Penelope’s tears as they said their goodbyes. He’d promised he would be back and that he would write—already knowing then he never would.
Being back felt familiar and yet strange, almost as if in one of his vivid dreams. The butler, whose name he could not remember, looked at him with wide eyes as if he were but a ghost. The same expression of surprise was on the faces of the two passing maids, both of whom were familiar to Daniel.
It is no surprise, really. I have not been here in just shy of a decade. Perhaps they wonder if the years have turned me more into my father—a man whose descent into madness the whole village witnessed first-hand.
When the Duke stepped out of the shadows and made his way toward them, Daniel almost gasped. The man who had been like a father to him looked nothing like he remembered. He walked hunched over, heavily leaning on a beautifully carved cane. His hair, once chestnut-colored, was gray and hung into his wrinkled face. They locked eyes and for a moment a smile flashed across the old man’s face. It was then that light footsteps diverted Daniel’s attention to the drawing room and his mouth dropped open.
Penelope stood in the door, almost in the same spot she’d stood in when he last left the manor. Of course, she looked nothing like the eleven-year-old girl he remembered. She was a lady of twenty now. And yet, he knew at once that it was her. The same sparkling eyes, and the same beautiful hair. She was wearing a stunning light pink gown, a white satin spencer with large silver buttons, and rich embroidery covered her arms. The ensemble suited her perfectly. They looked at each other for a long moment before the Duke spoke up.
“Lord Carlton,” he said and stepped toward him, his cane clanging on the marble floor.
“Your Grace.” He bowed and upon rising, smiled brightly. “It is wonderful to see you again after all of these years. Please do not call me Lord Carlton. You never have in the past.”
The Duke nodded. “Of course, Daniel. No need to be quite so formal when we are all but family. Despite the passage of time.” He turned his gaze at Alistair. “And who might you be? Alistair Mavis, if I heard correctly?” The Duke tilted his head to one side and looked Alistair up and down. Quickly, Daniel stepped to his friend’s side.
“Yes, my good friend Alistair, the future Baron of Fernley.” At the mention of Alistair’s future noble title, the Duke’s face relaxed. Daniel had known as much. The Duke of Branigan did not care to entertain people who were not either of aristocratic birth or incredibly wealthy. “We met at Eton. His family has been good enough to host me while I resided in London.”
“Baron Fernley’s son, I see. I met your father at Court once, years ago. Pleasant fellow. Estate in Devon?”
“Yes, Your Grace, but we primarily reside in London.” Alistair replied with a respectful tone in his voice. Daniel noticed that Alistair’s gaze drifted toward Penelope, and the young woman who was standing a respectful distance behind her. So far behind, in fact, Daniel only just now noticed her. A red-haired girl with pale skin, she appeared to be around Penelope’s age. The quality of her gown instantly announced that she was from a wealthy home. When she noticed him looking at her, she flashed a bright smile in his direction.
“London.” The Duke said, his voice still as deep and booming as it was in Daniel’s youth. “I have heard much about your time in London, Daniel. It seems you have much enjoyed yourself there.”
Daniel did not know what to say to this other than to quietly nod in agreement. It was true. He had greatly enjoyed his time in London and looked forward to doing so again. However, he had to admit he had broken a great many hearts, indulged in too much drink, and at times made a bit of a spectacle of himself. All of it with the enthusiastic help of Alistair, who was currently smiling at the Duke. Alistair never cared what his reputation was like. He knew he’d never be more than a Baron with a small estate, and thus it never bothered him. As Earl, Daniel knew what he did spread far and wide. He was also aware of his reputation as a bit of a dandy, or worse. Something that was not an issue in London, but would be frowned upon here in the countryside. He momentarily felt embarrassed that his reputation seemed to precede him.
Beside him, Alistair addressed the Duke. “It is good to meet you, Your Grace. Daniel has spoken of you only in the highest of terms. And your lovely daughter.” Alistair turned to Penelope, who was still standing in the corner.
“Well, that is always nice to hear. Now, Mr. Mavis, let me introduce you to my daughter.” He turned to Penelope and waved her toward him. “This is Lady Penelope, and this—” he motioned toward the red-haired girl, “—is Miss Bridget Hughes, a close family friend. Miss Hughes, this is Daniel, Earl of Carlton, and my former ward.”
The young woman’s eyes went wide as she looked from Daniel to Alistair and finally to Penelope, who elbowed her lightly in the arm, causing the young girl to fall into a deep courtesy. Much deeper than was appropriate for a lowly Earl and Baron.
