“We are engaged,” Cecil said simply.
The effect was instantaneous. Nora let out a sound that could only be described as a joyful shriek, crossed the room in several quick strides, and flung her arms around Penelope with an enthusiasm that nearly knocked them both sideways.
“Oh, I am so glad,” Nora breathed, pulling back to hold Penelope's face in her hands with the same genuine affection she had always shown her, her eyes sparkling with joy. “I cannot wait – Penelope, do you understand what this means? You will be my sister. Properly. Officially. My sister.” She beamed. “I have always wanted you for a sister.”
Penelope laughed, her heart so full she could scarcely hold it all. She took Nora's hands in hers and held them warmly.
“I have always wanted that too,” she said honestly. “I cannot wait.”
“Good,” Nora declared, satisfied, squeezing her hands once before turning to level a look at her brother. “You, however, are not engaged just yet.”
Cecil raised his brows. “I beg your pardon? I believe that is precisely what I just said we were.”
“You have not spoken to Lionel.”
Cecil opened his mouth, then he closed it again. He looked at Penelope, his expression pitiful as though he hoped she would provide him with some hope.
“She is correct,” Penelope confirmed, pressing her lips together to suppress a smile at the devastation in his eyes. “You have not asked my brother for my hand. And that is something that must be done.”
Cecil looked from one woman to the other with the expression of a man who had faced the large men without flinching and was now being undone by the two people he loved most in the world.
“I had every intention of doing precisely that,” he said. “I understand that we cannot make any arrangements, plan anything, or consider the matter settled until I have done so. I had it in mind, I just... hoped not to address it until I'd had sometime to revel in your acceptance. But of course, I will ask him.”
“Then there is nothing to worry about,” Penelope said sweetly.
“Nothing to worry about,” he repeated, with an arch of his brow that suggested he found her cheerfulness in this matter somewhat suspicious. “Your brother has spent the better part of a week refusing to let me set foot on his property. The last time he turned me away, I believe he suggested I redirect my efforts somewhere considerably less pleasant than his front door.”
Penelope had to press her hand to her mouth to contain the laugh threatening to burst out of her.
“He was protecting me,” she told him, when she had gathered herself. “He will understand, once I am there to support you.”
Cecil regarded her suspiciously, distrust written on those handsome features of his. “Can I count on that support? In all earnestness?”
She met his gaze steadily, the teasing falling away as something warmer took its place. She reached for his hand and squeezed it gently, speaking quietly,
“As long as you are by my side, you may count on my support in all that you wish to do. Always.”
The look he gave her in return was worth every difficult week she had endured. He looked certain and content, as though she had handed him something he had not dared to hope for. He stepped closer towards her and lifted her hand to his lips with a deliberateness that made Nora sigh happily behind her, only to wave apologetically when Penelope glanced back.
“Then I have nothing to fear,” he murmured against her knuckles.
“Nothing at all,” Penelope agreed, giddy in a way she had not been in a very long time.
“This is extremely odd,” Nora announced conversationally, “Seeing the two of you like this. I am not certain I shall ever fully adjust.”
Penelope turned to her, suddenly alarmed. “Is it a bad look?”
“No,” Nora said at once, her expression brightening as she looked between them. “No, it is a good sort of strange. The very best sort. I am glad. Truly. You are two of my most favourite people in all the world and watching you both be happy together – I could not have wished for anything better, for either of you. I pray that you are happy together. For life.”
She beamed, and for a moment she looked so genuinely, deeply happy that Penelope felt the last traces of sadness she had been carrying simply dissolve. Penelope's throat tightened with gratitude, and she turned to face her friend fully.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “For all of it. For all that you did to bring us to this moment.”
Nora waved a hand as though it was nothing, though her eyes were somewhat watery, and with a gentle laugh, Penelope stepped towards her, arms open for a hug.
They talked a while longer – happily, easily, the way one could only talk with people who knew one's heart. And when the afternoon had grown long, and the light outside the windows had turned amber and low, Penelope gathered herself to leave.
She gave Nora one last hug, grinning excitedly when the duchess urged her to send word as soon as Lionel had given his approval so they could begin planning the wedding.
