The Duke shook his head and chuckled. “Why aim so low? I know my daughter can find Miss Hughes a Duke to marry. At the very least, a Marquess. She has done it before, after all.”
Penelope looked up at her father and smiled. He was a kind, loving man and had all the faith in the world in her. And again, he was telling the truth. She had matched her friend, Margaret Dover, the daughter of a Baron, to the Earl of Warton, elevating her and her entire family to a much higher status than ever thought possible. The same was true for her friend Miss Kathleen Barrows, a Baronet’s daughter, who was now the Marchioness of Ravenbrook.
At last Bridget relented. “Well, if His Grace thinks it is a good idea, then it must be. He is the wisest man that I know, aside from my own father, of course. Very well, Penny. I will take you up on your offer.”
Penelope’s father clapped his hands together, giving Penelope a fright, as she feared he might fall without balancing on his cane. She need not have worried.
“Marvelous, marvelous indeed. We will have the wedding here on the estate. No argument.” He winked at Bridget. “Of course, I will gladly let your father pay for everything!” A roaring laughter escaped his lips and Penelope smiled. She loved to hear her father laugh. Oftentimes he was simply too weak to find joy in anything, but it made her cherish these moments all the more.
Her father and the steward made their way down toward the lake where he preferred to discuss business. He disliked his stuffy study and preferred the outdoors. Penelope already found herself making a list of all the eligible bachelors in her mind.
“What is it, Penny? You seem as if you are in another world.”
She shook her head. “I was thinking of all the lords I might match with you.” She winked and Bridget laughed.
“You are a true friend, indeed. The Earl of Weston has an eligible son, I believe. La! What about the Earl of the estate across the woods from you? The Carlton estate? I have never seen anyone there but a steward. Who is the Earl of Carlton, anyhow?”
Penelope froze. Mention of the estate across the woods made her shudder. She shook her head. “Nobody lives there. Surely, you have heard the stories.”
Bridget nodded. “The mad Earl who killed his wife and then himself? Yes, I’ve heard all about it. But there must be a new Earl now. The mad Earl had a son, I know as much. I’ve heard talk of it in town.”
Penelope shifted in her seat. Bridget had not lived in Banbury for more than five years. Long enough to have heard the stories, but not long enough to know just how well Penelope knew the family. She’d never mentioned Daniel at length to Bridget, other than to say that once upon a time she had a companion, a ward of her father’s. She didn’t know that he was the son of the mad Earl. She also didn’t know he’d stolen Penelope’s heart and shattered it, and she preferred to keep it that way.
Not content with Penelope’s silence, Bridget carried on. “I have asked around, but nobody could ever tell me who is in charge of the estate now. Do you know?”
Penelope’s thoughts had already traveled back to Daniel and the years they had spent together. They were so close as children, due to the friendship between their parents. Yet, she’d never imagined they would live under one roof. However, circumstances had made it so. She sighed as she remembered that dreadful day when he came to live with them. Penelope and the Duke were in mourning over the death of her own mother when Daniel lost both of his parents to the mad act of his father.
If she closed her eyes, she saw him still, stepping out of that carriage in the pouring rain, his eyes red from crying and her father beside him, a hand on the boy’s skinny shoulders.
How helpless he was, and how very shaken. To think he found his own mother dead and his father about to follow her in death. No wonder he did not speak for months. The shock must have been so very deep.
He’d been trapped in silence for months, eventually speaking only to her. Her heart swelled again as she thought of him. He’d been everything to her. Her friend, her confidant, and her future. She’d known it despite her young age. She’d been sure. A smile spread across her face as she remembered those sweet words he’d uttered the last time she woke him from his nightmares. “When I am an adult and take control of my estate, I promise I will marry you, so that nobody can ever separate us again.”
She shook her head.How foolish I was. I made a cake of myself, for he left and never came back. Yet I think of him still. I wonder what kind of a man he became.
“Penny? Hello?” Bridget snapped her fingers in front of her face to force her back to reality. “Did you hear me at all? I asked if you know who the Earl is now and you all but floated out of your body.”
“I am sorry. I have been so pre-occupied with father’s ill health that I’ve not slept much. Yes. You are right. There is an Earl. However, nobody has seen him in many a year. It’s almost as if he had died. Alongside his predecessor.”
“Oh. A shame. I had envisioned him to be a handsome, dashing man ready to sweep me off my feet.” Bridget laughed and shrugged. “It cannot be helped. Now then, what of that dashing Baronet in Barston?”
Penelope forced a smile on her face. “I know just who you mean. Sir Gregory. Yes, he might just be perfect.”
She fell silent, suddenly wishing she could be alone in her chamber dwelling on her memories of the years with Daniel. She found herself dreaming of them at night sometimes, only to be awoken to a reality that was so starkly different than her childhood dream.
A strange sense of doom overcame her. It was almost a foreboding. She shivered and forced the thoughts from her head. Daniel was gone and had been for most of her life. He was not coming back. It was time she accepted the facts as they were.
But the feeling remained. The foreboding. As though her world was about to be shaken to its core. And there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Chapter 2
Daniel stood and made his way toward the window, peering out. He always loved staying at the home of his friend, Alistair Mavis, when in London. Despite the early hour—only eight in the morning—the street outside was already bustling with activity. Messengers rode their horses at great speed down Park Street, while a Royal Mail coach made its way down the busy road. On the sidewalks, servants rushed toward the market to make their daily purchases and assorted lords and ladies passed by in their finest walking attire.
He’d been awake for some time, despite the previous night’s escapades not ending until well past midnight. Ordinarily he would sleep in after an evening filled with dancing, drinking, and gambling. However, the upcoming journey to his estate found him unable to rest.
A bang on the door roused his attention that very moment and he turned with a smile to the door, already aware who the caller would be.
“Come!” He called, and a moment later the door swung open.
