“Allow me to at least complete my train of thought before you draw any more conclusions,” Alexander said. She nodded, holding her breath.
“What I was saying,” he said, pausing for a moment, “is that I can allow you some shelter, but it would not come without conditions attached.”
A flicker of hesitation crossed her face. “And what might these conditions be?”
Alexander’s fingers twitched against his sides, before folding inwards into a tightened fist. “Well, there is only one.”
Penelope prodded him to continue, eyes fixed on him as though her future hinged on what he was about to say next.
“You marry me.”
The words left his mouth with a kind of casualness that usually is not found when uttering them. He was a composed man, yes, but he surprised himself even. Penelope looked as though she had heard him incorrectly, blinking rapidly.
“I am not sure if I understand,” she said after a moment.
“You heard me correctly,” he said. “If I am to host you and risk my reputation, that is too great for me to bear. But marrying me can be your solution out of this conundrum in which you find yourself.”
“I do not even know your name!” Penelope cried out, shaking her head.
It occurred to Alexander that he had not yet made a proper introduction.
“My apologies,” he said, straightening his back. “Allow me to rectify that. I am Alexander Walford. The Duke of Monteclare.”
Penelope fell into a stunned silence. She looked at him as though she was seeing him anew, but instead of the usual starry-eyed reception Alexander was so used to receiving, she looked rather disgruntled by the prospect.
“Of all the things to happen,” he heard her mutter under her breath, “somehow I inadvertently landed at the footsteps of a Duke.”
Her shock was amusing, to say the least.
“Is that a worrisome prospect for you?” he questioned. “I would have expected you to have a different reaction.”
“Oh,” she blushed, as though he had called her out . “No, it is not worrisome. But I am just wondering about the odds of such a thing happening.”
“The odds seem to be in your favor.”
“Are they?” she said, as though she was airing her inner thoughts out loud to him without censoring them in any way. It was an honesty that felt refreshing.
“Let me remind you, my lady, that your situation could be much worse. I am offering you a promising arrangement.”
“You do not even know me,” she stressed.
Alexander noted again that the woman was not like others. His title had afforded him a wealth of privilege, and usually, the mention of his dukedom would be enough to usher in any sort of agreement that he wished to acquire. But the woman seemed to be wholly concerned aboutwhy, despiteher rather desperate circumstances.
“That does not matter.”
Penelope continued to shake her head. “And you… you have a daughter. Where is your wife?” her tone took an accusative turn.
“I would not be asking you to marry me had my wife been in my life still,” he replied without giving her any further context. “And I’m not looking for love, let that be clear.”
Penelope paused, waiting for him to continue.
“But what you said earlier,” he sighed, rubbing the side of his face. “About my daughter. I see promise there.”
“You wish to marry me for… your daughter?” Penelope asked, stunned.
“I don’t want a governess,” he added. “I want a wife who might take care of her.”
“I know that I told you that I might be able to teach your daughter some manners before,” she started, “but perhaps I misrepresented myself. Your Grace, I have no experience taking care of someone younger than myself. Therefore, I am not sure if I am the right fit for the woman you are looking for.”
