“How did I save you? And are you all right? Are you hurt?” Deena faffed over her, searching for bruises, exhaustion, or any sign the journey had broken her.
“I am fine, Deena.” Penelope laughed.
“How are you here?” Deena’s voice cracked. “How did you?—”
“The Duke of Windemere found me.” Penelope’s fingers clenched around Deena’s sleeves. “Well…he had an investigator. It was a very frightening experience, but once the man explained to me what was happening, I calmed down.”
Deena’s mind spiraled with this information.
“How long ago was this?”
“Around a week and a half ago. I—lashed out at one of the nuns and got moved to a new convent.” Penelope looked at Deena sheepishly. “I believe only my family was informed, but His Grace found me, and he sent a letter with the investigator who had been following me.”
“That explains why you have not been receiving my letters,” Deena whispered and suddenly felt lightheaded.
“Yes, I have not received any letters from you,” Penelope choked on her words. “When I saw your name in the letter the investigator gave to me, I instantly felt hopeful.”
Deena’s heart clenched, and her voice cracked with emotion, “What did he write?”
Penelope reached for her hand and squeezed reassuringly. “His Grace wrote that he knew what you had done for me. That you had risked everything and that he owed you. He said he would send his solicitor, Mr. Whitman, to the convent the very next day if I agreed to leave immediately and return to England.”
“Austin did that?” Deena’s legs gave way. She sank onto the nearest sofa, pulling Penelope down beside her as she kept talking, words tumbling over each other.
“Yes, Deena. Because of you.”
“Tell me more.” It almost sounded like a plea.
“I obviously agreed. But around this time, the nuns were starting to suspect my pregnancy. My gowns were beginning not to fit anymore, and the sisters were watching me too closely.” Penelope’s eyes glazed over as she spoke. “But Mr. Whitman arrived at just the right time, with papers, money, and a closed carriage. He told the nuns that I was being recalled by my family.”
“And they did not suspect anything?” Deena was completely intrigued. Her emotions continued to unravel as she listened intently to Penelope.
“They didn’t argue because Mr. Whitman can be very… persuasive. We left that very night, and I stayed at a safe boarding house.”
Deena’s throat closed. “But you are here? What happened?—”
“My family read about us inThe Daily Scribe.” Deena felt the guilt eat at her. “They found out about my pregnancy, and last night they were waiting at Calais.”
“Oh, Penelope! I am so terribly sorry.” Fresh tears began to fall down Deena’s face.
Penelope’s voice dropped to a gentle whisper. “It is not your fault, Deena. Even withoutThe Daily Scribe, my father had spies at every port. They somehow knew I was coming, and they had men ready to drag me onto the next ship bound for the West Indies. They were going to lock me away until the baby was born and then give it away…or worse.”
Deena held onto Penelope’s hand. The blackmailer must have informed her family.
“But His Grace was there,” Penelope continued. “He had come ahead. He stood between them, and me all night. He argued and threatened lawsuits. He told them he was the Duke of Windemere and that if they touched me, they would answer to him in every court in England and France. Even the harbormaster was afraid of him.”
“He truly said all of that?” Deena’s heart softened.
“Yes, he stared my father down until the man backed away, and by dawn, they were gone, and I was free.”
Deena’s tears fell freely. Austin had saved Penelope; he had been planning to all along, and she had not seen his intentions clearly.
“I thought I’d betrayed you.” She lowered her eyes, too ashamed for her friend to see the guilt within them. “I wrote that article to buy time, but it was not enough. And when I received no response from you, I imagined you all alone. And I thought?—”
Penelope cupped Deena’s face with both hands. “Deena, I did not receive any letters from you. I swear, if I did, I would have responded. I thought that you wanted nothing to do with me, and I understood. I truly did; I was not your responsibility. It was my mistake that got us into this mess.”
“But I could have protected you better?—”
“You saved me,” Penelope repeated, cutting her off. “You stood watch for months so I could finally know what love is. You lied to the sisters for me. You risked your own freedom every single night so I could see Edward. And when everything fell apart, you still tried to protect me…even when it meant hurting yourself.”
