Penelope raised her eyes to peer over the top of her book, returning her attention to it as her brother settled in a chair opposite hers, stealing a biscuit off her plate.
“Have you changed your mind after all about wanting me to stay?”
Lionel scoffed, reaching forward to flick her ear lightly.
“It was never up for debate, do not be silly. I am only worried because it has been a few days and have not left the house to call on Miss Jane or Nora. In fact, it is rather concerning how much time you have been spending here. I would have thought that you were planning to become a part of the garden plants, if you were not practically glued to this chair every day.” He stated with a huff.
Penelope sighed, sitting up properly as she tucked a red silk ribbon between the pages of the book to mark where she had stopped. She went still for a moment, running her finger over the soft, smooth ribbon, recalling what it was like to be bound by a longer, thicker kind of ribbon a few nights ago.
It felt like forever ago now, those stolen moments in the dark that she had shared with him. Sometimes she caught herself waiting with unbarred hope, expecting Cecil to walk into the drawing room.
But that never happened. She had expected that he would come to pick up his things, but the butler had informed them that he had arrived much earlier to carry his property away before he made his way to his estate. Lionel did not seem surprised, but Penelope finally understood why Cecil had left Nora’s estate.
It would seem he was quite intent on avoiding his sister and Penelope.
“Would you rather I hid in your study instead?” she proposed, pushing thoughts of the duke out of her mind.
“This is not a debate on which hiding place you should use, Penny. Please, go and stretch your legs outside the house. Away from the property.” Lionel sighed, exasperated.
Penelope pouted and pulled her legs onto the chair, dismissing whatever care she had for proper posture.
“I do not want to. I am certain the ton is talking about it. Everyone surely knows I am Athena and I am sure they despise me for it. At Nora’s ball, I could not bear the stares and whispers. If I went out in public, they would devour me.” She admitted, resting her chin against her knees.
Lionel tutted, shaking his head slightly.
“Penelope, do you believe you did anything wrong by writing those letters?”
She paused thoughtfully and slowly shook her head, earning a smile of approval from her brother.
“And do you think your actions warrant hate?”
“No,” she raised her head. “I do not.”
“Then they have no right or reason to hate you. All you did was try to help a few women who would have been unsuspecting victims of mischief and deceit. You saved their futures and you should only feel happy about that. Do not care what the others think and do not let your fear of their reproach keep you from living your life. Your choice to become a spinster does not mean you swore your rights to judge and assess away. Neither is it a good reason for them to bully you into becoming a hermit.” Lionel said kindly, his voice soothing.
He was right. She should not be forced to give up out of fear of what could happen. If she really gave it some thought, the worsta person might do is curse at her, point fingers at her, and wag their tongues reproachfully. None of that would actually harm her.
“I am truly fortunate to have you, dear brother.” She told him sincerely with a smile.
Lionel nodded, looking proud as he agreed. “Of course. However, would you survive without me?”
She laughed, knowing he did not need a response to know that she really could not have lived without Lionel by her side.
“Thank you,” she said instead. “For taking care of me.”
He smiled, patting her hair gently.
“Think nothing of it. Do not give up your life in fear, Penny. Nothing has the right to steal away your life, except your own death. And that is something that is hopefully far, far away.”
She nodded, smiling back at him, only to squawk the next moment when he took his hand off her head and stole another biscuit off her plate.
“You thieving worm!”
“How dare you?” he barked in outrage. “How can I be a thief in my own home?”
“Oh, Lord Bellcourt, that is not the question you should ask. Your time would be better served if you considered what would happen to your fingers if you ate anymore of my biscuits.” Penelope warned.
Lionel sniffed and rose to his feet, looking as though he had realized the wiser thing to do would be to retreat rather than obtain even more of her ire.
