Her vision blurred, and the wetness was slipping down her cheeks as she tried to string together a coherent sentence.
“I was not trying t-to cause any trouble. I only wanted to help and after the first time – the first letter, it seemed that I had found a way to make my own pain… the one I had been carrying for so long. I did not know what else to do but after I had sent that first letter and it seemed to help, I felt as though a part of me had been relieved of its burdens. I had chosen to be a spinster – I had long since accepted that was where my fate lay. But I couldnot let other women get ruined. Not when I could protect them from men who sought their own gains at the expense of women who were ready to love them with everything they had.”
Lionel sighed and shifted closer towards her.
“You did not need to hide this from everyone. Shrouding yourself in mystery might have seemed important, but all you did was make people believe you had ulterior motives when the news eventually broke out.” He said gently.
She shook her head, brushing away her tears with the back of her hand, even though they continued to flow anyway.
“I-I knew how they react if I had signed those letters using my real name. It would have been no different from the way they reacted last night. It would not have taken long for word to spread that I am bitter with my lack of prospects and I have decided to ruin the chances of others. And all I really wanted to do was protect them. You have my word. I meant no harm,” she sobbed.
Lionel pulled her into his arms then, patting her back and hair gently as she cried.
“I understand, but you could have told me, Penelope. You are all that I have. I would not have thought less of you – I never would.”
“But I have already bothered you enough with my choice to be a spinster. I feared that you might think me a burden for remaining here, making you take care of me for the rest of your days. It is not fair to you –”
“Is that what you thought? That I was bothered? Because you ‘made’ me take care of you? Do not be ridiculous. If I do not take care of you, who else would have the honor of doing so? It is the joy of my life that I am able to care for you, to be able to provide for you and support you. I have never thought of you as a load I had been saddled with. You are my sister and I love you. This is your home and we are family. You are entitled to my love and resources. I will always look after you, as long as you are here with me. Please, do not harbor such sad thoughts,” Lionel scolded without heat.
Relief flooded Penelope, and she pressed her face into his neck, deriving enough strength from his warmth to ask,
“Do you really mean it?”
“Every word. I promise,” he assured softly.
Penelope let out a breath, feeling her frame relax against his, pouting when he pulled away and tutted at her messy face, using his handkerchief to wipe away her tears gently.
“And Cecil? Is there a reason why you two had grown close suddenly?”
Penelope forced herself to remain calm, desperately hoping that the truth did not show on her face as she tried to think of a way to avoid confessing that she fell in love with someone she was not meant to.
“He was the only one who knew I was Athena.” She exhaled slowly.
Lionel blinked in surprise.
“He was? How did he find out? Did he threaten you with his knowledge?”
Penelope shook her head quickly, because the last thing she needed was to give Lionel a reason to be cross at Cecil.
“It was not like that, Lionel. I promise. I had sent a letter to Jane after I found out that Cecil was only marrying to secure his line as the new Duke of Westerdale. Cecil had seen the letter and somehow deduced it was I who sent it. He said he had no interest in telling anyone, but instead wanted my help in finding a suitable woman who would not mind a marriage of convenience. That… that was why we spent so much time together. We were merely conferring about likely candidates.” She explained, hoping Lionel would accept her explanation without any fuss.
Her brother seemed to be pondering on her words, but eventually, spoke.
“I suppose that makes some sense, but I am quite surprised that Cecil was willing to do all of that. It sounds very unlike him to be so lenient and forgiving – even though, from what you’ve said, you are the reason things went sour between him and Miss Jane. It is stranger still that he did not mention it to me. I was worried that he might have done something to you.”
Penelope’s heart skipped a beat, and she shook her head quickly, even as an ache was spreading through her chest.
“No such thing happened,” she lied, the words tasting like ash as she continued to spill them. “We really were… only friends for a time.”
Lionel nodded and pulled her into his arms again.
“All right, then. We will be just fine, in time.”
Penelope nodded, although she was not sure if she wholly believed him. She supposed time would tell eventually.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Dear sister, do you plan to live out the rest of your days indoors?”
