Page 3 of The Duke’s Rejected Mate

P.P.S. They insist on making sure you’re aware that they are your friends as well, and it is NOT just between us. But you know that. I’m just the one penning for us all so that you do not become overwhelmed with a plethora of letters upon our arrival.

P.P.P.S. I have heard it rumored that the other dukes and their wives (those we are friends with. Not just all dukes in the Ton, for that would be ridiculous) are to gather at either Charles’s or Lewis’s estate for Midsummer. Do make plans in case you are summoned there as well. We need you in attendance so there is someone to confide in and enjoy.

My lips tilt up, all thoughts of Henhaven and his perfectly ordinary face gone for the moment. Mother, however, seems unhappy with the joy I feel at the warm note. Her fingers curl around the edges as she snatches the missive from my hands.

“That is mine,” I cry out as I go to pull it back.

She huffs and turns, putting her back to me so she can read it without my interference. “Such a sour disposition with Henhaven, then lo-and-behold, a smile when you read this little note. If I find one bit of scandal…” Her voice trails off as she reads it, then turns back to me. “Why, it’s only from Lady Penelope.”

“Yes, Mother. Do you truly think I entertain gentlemen with you unaware? If that were so, I feel as though I’d be engaged to someone else by now.”

She stares at me, mouth agape. “Well, yes,” she sputters. “You sulk about here as a wraith. You have an air of secrets that follow you like a cloud.”

A heavy sigh drifts from my lips at her half-formed accusations. If she knew what transpired between Norhaven and me, we would have already been married.

“If you need nothing more from me, then I will retire to my room until time to leave. I have much to ponder and would love to do so without the exacting gaze of my mother.”

“I never gave you permission to take your leave,” she hisses. “What if I say you are not allowed to go?”

“And refuse the summons of a sister to a duke? You worry enough about scandal that you wouldn’t dare refuse them.” I don’t even give her a moment to refute me. With a light pluck of my fingers, I take the note from her and head to my room.

Tears prick my eyes as I close my door and wander over to the bed. Penelope, Sophia, and Georgiana. They will most certainly be a balm to my weary soul. But then, do I actually tell them about Henhaven?

My heart pounds in my chest as I tuck the note away with the others I’ve received. None of them, thankfully, from Norhaven. Though I’m still not so sure why that actually causes my heart to pound so painfully in my chest. It’s not as if his actions can be declared to the world.

Dropping to my knees, I run my fingers over the small floorboard and grab the edge, pulling it up. There, my sketches lie in a small bundle along with other treasures that make my heart happy. My clit pulses as I drag the drawings to my chest and kneel there, tears silently running down my cheeks.

I run my fingers over the crude images. Though they are nowhere near as precise as Teresa’s, they’re mine. They’re the few things I have from that first night I saw Norhaven in all his glory. What was it, last Twelfth Night? The one before?

How muddled things have become since then. Each day, I think he will choose me, that he will stop in the middle of touching me so intimately and declare his intentions for me. But he doesn’t. He simply punishes me, pleasures me, and sends me on my way.

A soft sigh drifts from my lips as I tuck the drawings back into the hollow space and wedge the wood back in. Though I should worry my mother will find it, that would take extra effort on her part. Shaking my head, I lean against the bed and curl into myself as sobs wrack my body.

Perhaps I should cry off and refuse dinner. Though I long to see my friends, I worry it will be far more unpleasant. And that’s not fair to them, not when they try so desperately to make me happy.

Besides, if Norhaven is there, I don’t know how I’ll make it through the night without throwing myself at him and begging him to take me in hand, to make all of this disappear, to have him tell me he loves me above all and will find a way to work this out.

But he hasn’t yet. Why would tonight be any different?

Chapter 2

Cynthia

The instant I step through the door, a chorus of laughs greets my ears. Penelope races into the foyer in a most unladylike fashion, followed by Georgiana with her quick but measured steps, and lastly brought up in the rear by Sophia, who remains the perfect picture of decorum. I’m sure if the dowager duchess were about, she’d chide one but praise the others. As one does in this household.

It makes my heart glad to see the warm, effusive welcome, though, as the triplets, in their own way, show me greetings and affections. Penelope, of course, is most animated as she takes me by the hand and leads me toward the parlor. She fairly bounces in place as we walk, causing my arm to ache.

“It has been forever since we’ve seen you!” she cries out, her eyes shining with an endless well of happiness and mirth.

Sophia, on the other hand, simply hides her grin behind her hand as she lets out a soft chuckle. “Such dramatics, Pen. We saw her over the holidays at the family estate.”

True to nature, the triplet in question turns from me and narrows her eyes at her sister. “Might as well be an eternity. And don’t stand there playing coy. I recall just how pitiful you were, cooped up in the house. Why, the amount of times Cynthia’s name dripped from your lips…”

“You’re suffocating our dear friend,” Georgiana butts in. “I swear the color of her arm has shifted at least twice since you’ve grabbed hold.”

At that, Penelope instantly drops my arm and pats it, making a show of tending to my invisible wounds. “There now, are you satisfied?”

Before any of them can answer, the dowager duchess glides in, all regal and dripping in serenity and beauty. To be like her one day. But then, would I appear as placid as a viscountess? One may never know.