Penelope clenched her hands tightly by her side, hatred and anger burning her from within as she took a single step closer to them. The cause of her ire stared up at her, his grin making her wish she could pull off her shoe and throw it at his ridiculous face.
It took a lot of emotion she did not know she possessed to bend her knees and curtsey slightly, greeting through gritted teeth.
“Good afternoon, Your Grace.”
Cecil, Duke of Westerdale, looked positively pleased, as though he knew she had to claw at her insides to muster enough resolution to actually greet him.
“Good afternoon, Lady Penelope. I trust you are having a fine day? Because I certainly am.” Cecil smirked.
“I was, before my home was infiltrated by a deviant.”
“Penelope!” Lionel scolded, aghast.
She ignored her brother and continued, “I will feel much better when you leave, though.”
Cecil’s expression morphed into pure joy as he asked, “You would like that, would you not? However, I am afraid that is not possible.”
Lionel cleared his throat, and when Penelope shifted her gaze to him, he told her,
“The esteemed duke’s estate seems to have acquired some damage under the management of its previous owner. And whilethe damages are being repaired, His Grace needs a place to stay in the mean time and I graciously offered –”
“No, brother,” Penelope nearly groaned. “Why would you think if doing such a thing? What were you thinking?”
Lionel’s amusement returned, and he sighed in mock exhaustion.
“What was I supposed to do while my close friend was rendered momentarily homeless? How can I call myself his friend if I do not help him in this time of need?” he asked.
Penelope whirled around to face the culprit who was encroaching on her territory, doing her best not to wag a finger in his face as she said,
“I am sure the damage is not as bad as he has made it sound. He simply wishes to leech off us and impose on us for laughs.”
“Oh, I can assure you, that place is quite uninhabitable. No one has lived there for a long time and it is practically in shambles. Much work is needed before I can hope to spend a night there without fearing for my precious life,” Cecil stated sagely, downing the remaining contents of his glass.
“What about Nora and her husband? She said you came to see them recently but she did not mention anything of your ‘temporary’ displacement. I am certain that if she knew, she would insist that you stay with them!” Penelope pointed out.
Cecil’s face took on an expression of utter disgust, and he shook his head immediately.
“Need I remind you, my sister and brother-in-law and newly weds? The last place I would want to be is anywhere around those two. I'd rather live on the streets of London. At least I can rest easy then,” he told her with a haunted glint in his eye, shivering slightly.
“See? If the streets are good an option, I suggest you take it, Your Grace.” Penelope folded her arms.
“And miss the opportunity to see you scowl at me every single day? I would rather not deny myself such joy! How could I?” he tutted, resting a hand over his chest with a sad look on his face.
“Oh, but it is all right to give me a reason to scowl every day?”
“That is up to you, fair maiden. I am satisfied as long as I am blessed with a chance to gaze upon your face.”
“I am starting to consider giving up my sight completely if it would mean I would be spared the misfortune for looking at yours any more than I have already been forced to endure already.”
Cecil paused, mild surprise overtaking his features for a moment. “You are being particularly cruel to me today. One might believe you’ve missed our spats.”
Penelope wished she could smother him with one of the cushions her mother had embroidered.
Now and again, Lionel would ask her why she detested Cecil so much, and every time she would state that there was nothing likable about him. Although he was a close friend of her brother, and Penelope was a dear friend of Cecil’s sister, she could never bring herself to feel pleasant in any way towards him.
He always appeared charming in the public eye, his flirtatious nature easily drawing in the attention and affection of young women of theton, but Penelope was not one to be fooled. She had witnessed how cruel he could be, all too aware that underneath the smile he gave out easily was a tongue that could cut through a heart harshly.
And she was aware of his promiscuous nature, because she had heard an alarming number of tales about the number of ladies he could seduce in a single night. It was frustrating that he had to be so close to her when she wanted nothing to do with him.
