Oh. Oh, no.
It had felt different tonight. Greatly so, because suddenly it was obvious how much she had allowed to happen between them. And the reason for her actions was simple.
She had fallen for this man.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“Are you all right, Penelope?”
Penelope blinked and raised her gaze, meeting that of her friend, immediately noticing the concerned lines around her face.
“Yes,” she said, sitting up straighter in her chair. “Yes, I am well... Why do you ask?”
Nora glanced down at the teacup in front of Penelope before she said, “Well, you’ve stirred sugar into your tea twice now. That’s a little too sweet for you, is it not?”
Penelope looked down at her cup and raised it to her lip, taking a cautionary sip, wincing at the overtly sweet, almost syrupy taste of the liquid.
“Here, let me,” Godric offered, taking the cup from her and pouring her another.
Penelope nodded, watching as he mixed in just enough sugar before he handed it over to her.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” Penelope managed to muster up a smile.
“Think nothing of it, though I must echo my wife’s sentiment and ask if you are well, Lady Penelope. You have looked rather distracted all morning. Do you perhaps have some unfinished business elsewhere –”
“No,” Penelope shook her head, curling the hand that wasn’t occupied with her teacup into a fist on her lap to keep herself from rubbing her chest as her heart throbbed. “No such thing. I suppose I am merely tired, as I haven’t slept well these past few nights.”
“Is something the matter? Are you not comfortable –”
“Nora, being in your home has been a wonderful experience,” Penelope cut her friend off gently. “There is nothing amiss, oh great hostess. I suppose I have some things on my mind that have kept me from getting a good night’s rest. That is all.”
Her heart throbbed painfully once more, but Penelope had gotten quite adept at ignoring it now, simply picking up her teacup instead and taking a sip.
She had not lied. Sleep had been scarce ever since her last tryst with Cecil three nights ago. Penelope felt utterly foolish,ashamed of how she had managed to give herself over to one man almost completely. She was dismayed at her audacity to be disappointed when he pointed out that his words were merely an empty expression of his lust.
She could scarcely believe that she had fallen for such tactics, even more so that she had willingly walked into it.
It had been a few days since she had gone to his room, and she had received no letters since then, nor did she expect to. Their paths had not crossed during the daily activities, but Penelope had learned that it was rather difficult to keep her eyes off him whenever Cecil was close by. But unfortunately, that meant she bore witness to the fact that his gaze and attention had strayed elsewhere – to the woman she had urged him to speak to during the croquet game.
Penelope felt frustrated and irritated once more by her own involvement in her sour mood, wishing for everything to simply stop so she could breathe.
The moments between them were harder to forget, especially when she could feel his hands against her body every time she closed her eyes, which eventually led to her yearning for him again. Penelope was tired and wished that she could return to a time before she had let Cecil Wightman into her life.
Before she had yielded her heart and soul to him.
“Does this have anything to do with my brother?”
Penelope stiffened as she stared at her friend.
“W-What? Why do you think so?” she stuttered.
Nora glanced at her husband, who looked inclined to give them some space, but left with no choice but to remain seated when Nora’s hand interlaced with his.
“Well... you both have been rather close, recently. You used to fight all the time, so I was rather relieved to see you both getting along. But he did inform me that you were helping him find a wife, which I found strange, but still...”
Penelope stopped hearing Nora after that because her heart dropped.
She had forgotten, had lost sight of what had brought her and Cecil together in the first place. This whole time, she had been gradually orchestrating her own downfall by agreeing to engage in such activities with him.
