“All right,” Penelope agreed, a tad reluctantly, as Jane’s hand slipped from hers and she watched her friend enter the shop.
Matthias drew closer, suddenly looking uneasy. She hoped he would say what he needed to and leave, but he kept glancing between her and his shiny brown shoes. She ran out of patience quickly and told him,
“Lord Lockwood, I must get back to my friend –”
“I am sorry. I just – I do not know how to bring up this matter. I thought... I considered writing to you, but the matter was rather... It would not have been nice. It would have been cowardly and insincere. That is why I decided to come to you now, here – as I was fortunate to catch sight of you on my way home.”
Penelope was getting rather annoyed with his dawdling, but she tried to urge him along.
“Go on, Lord Lockwood. You have all my attention.”
The man inhaled and blurted out, “It was me. I am the one who revealed that you are Athena.”
It felt as though Penelope had been doused in ice-cold water. At first, she was shocked, then flames of rage spread through her, and she could barely contain herself to ask him a few questions.
“Why? Why did you do that? How did you even find out?”
Her fury was apparently audible in her tone because he swallowed and lowered his gaze.
“I overheard you speaking with the Duke of Westerdale about it on the night of the ball. I could scarcely believe my ears and I thought I'd misheard but you never denied it. And then I recalled how you had reacted during dinner when he had insulted Athena and it all made sense.” Matthias explained, looking nervous still.
Penelope panicked, recalling that Cecil had kissed her during that conversation, and for a moment, she expected the Viscount to threaten her with the knowledge of what he had witnessed. But he simply continued.
“It was utterly foolish and petty of me – but I was angry. I thought I had expressed myself and my interest in you clearlyenough but not only did you sound confused that he believed that I had feelings for you, but you also dismissed the notion completely. I was furious at your rejection and I let my anger get the better of me and I am sorry.”
Penelope’s anger had simmered down, and what was left was disappointment and a dull sense of gratification in knowing she was right to expect nothing from men.
They were and would always be selfish creatures who could be trusted to always put their egos before anything else.
“I am truly sorry. If you would like me to pay – whatever you need me to do to fix it –”
“There is nothing you can do when you have already ruined it all. Simply stay out of my way henceforth. I never want to see you, ever again.” Penelope cut him off swiftly.
And then she turned around and walked away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“Your Grace, shall I fetch you some breakfast? A light meal of toast and eggs, perhaps?”
Cecil tried to glare at his valet over the rim of his glass of brandy, only to frown in confusion as his servant seemed to have a twin who had manifested out of thin air.
“I want to scold you... but I am not sure which of you had said the words I just heard. Both of you, be gone now before I put an end to your employment.” The duke mumbled, reaching for the bottle that had recently become his dear friend.
As he poured the rest of its contents into his glass, the friendship – much like the ones that had developed in the last week – swiftly came to an end. And all he had to show for it was the light sensation in his head and the dizzying blur that corrupted his vision – and would explain why Simon, his valet, suddenly had an identically looking brother.
His days had been like this since he returned from the Ironwell estate. He could not seem to do much other than wallow in his regret and shame – notions he was unsure he had the right to.
Penelope’s face haunted his every waking hour, reminding him that he had done the worst thing he ever could – he had tainted a beautiful, good woman. And he hated himself for it.
His valet withdrew reluctantly, clearly still dismayed that he had failed once more to bring the duke to his senses. Once the door shut behind his servant, Cecil reached for another bottle, ready to begin yet another brief relationship that would undoubtedly take more than it would give to him.
He pulled his glass close to refill it, barely a mouthful within, when his door burst open.
With a grunt of frustration, he raised his gaze to scold whoever he assumed would be a staff member, only for the words to die in his throat as he realized that he had a guest.
“I was hoping that he was wrong, but it seems that I overestimated you. What on earth do you think you’re doing, Cecil?”
“Nora,” Cecil exhaled, unimpressed by her sudden appearance. “I will not ask you why you are here. As you can see, I am in no mood to entertain guests. Farewell, sister.”
