Page 2 of Snowed In with the Jilted Duke

“I could have.” He released her hand after realizing he had been holding it for a moment longer than he ought to.

He turned to Penelope and extended his right arm to her, offering his left to her mother. Pippa trailed behind like Penelope’s shadow, effacing herself.

Oliver had only kissed Penelope once in all the years they had been promised to each other, when he had encountered her on the balcony of her family’s rented townhouse during their betrothal ball. She had been so different than usual that night. So welcoming. So soft and yielding in his arms.

And had been back to her usual self only an hour later when their official engagement was announced.

A suspicion had grown in his mind ever since. A suspicion it had not been Penelope he had kissed on that darkened balcony at all. The drama of Penelope’s illness and her long recovery had forced him to put it out of mind, and Pippa’s strict avoidance of him meant he had not seen the twins side-by-side in nearly two years. Pippa had been such a quiet shadow in the corner, he would sometimes forget she was there at all.

Now that he saw them together and was put in mind of how strongly they resembled one another, he could not help but wonder again: which of the twins had he kissed that night?

Given the way Pippa had changed so abruptly after her sister’s illness had struck—as though she was paying penance for her sins—he was afraid he might know the answer no matter how much his mind shrank from it.

Oliver shook off the idea and looked down at Penelope, who was looking back towards her sister with a small frown. Almost as though she had sensed his thoughts.

Even if it had been Pippa... it was of no matter. It was far too late to do anything about it now.

They needed to get through the next three days and it would all be settled. Surely the restriction around his throat would vanish once the deed was done and he was safely wed.

Even as he formed the thought, his throat tightened another notch.

He knew his duty, and he would do it.

Seeing him was even more painful than she had thought it would be. The surge of joy had been immediately swamped by the same guilt that had haunted her ever since Penny had fallen ill.

Pippa Montgomery straightened her shoulders and followed the little group ahead of her into the house. She could not blame Penny, or even Oliver, for her misery. She had done this to herself—to all of them—with her jealousy of her sister. The only way for her to make amends was to ensure the wedding went off smoothly so she could reassure herself her actions had been of no consequence.

Oliver likely had never even guessed it was her who had kissed him, not Penny.

The thought should not have depressed her even further, but it did.

Gaitskill Castle was a magnificent hodgepodge of architectural styles that were somehow brought together by the use of local granite and limestone, roofed with green slate. The shades of blue and green that ran through the stone harmonized the medieval and Tudor and Restoration wings to look like branches of the same family.

The door re-opened and Teasdale, the butler, bowed deeply. He was a tall, gaunt, dark-skinned man whose tight curls now showed more gray than black. Pippa had known him as a footman when the Montgomerys had first begun visiting the Kendals more than ten years ago and had been pleased to watch him climb the ranks to his present position at the top of the household. The only person as vital to the smooth running of a great house was the housekeeper, who Teasdale had wisely married during his rise to the top.

The butler bowed to each of them in turn. “Your Grace. Mrs. Montgomery. Miss Penelope. Miss Philippa. The family is gathered in the Green Room.”

“Thank you, Teasdale,” Oliver said as he helped Penny with her pelisse and hat, handing them off to a hovering footman. “We shall take a moment to greet the staff, shall we?”

“Certainly, your grace. They are all assembled.”

Pippa allowed a footman to take her cloak and hat and trailed after Oliver, Penny, and her mother as they stepped into the grand entryway. A half-circle staircase swept up each side of the room, and both staircases were filled with servants waiting to make their greetings to Oliver and Penny. Many of the faces were familiar from previous visits, but there were always a few missing and a few new ones. They paraded down the stairs in groups, from the lowest rank to the uppermost one, starting with the kitchen staff so they could return to their work as quickly as possible. The men bowed, the women curtsied, and Penny gave each of them a gracious smile and nod that grew more mechanical as the time stretched on, until Teasdale and Mrs. Teasdale had at last received their greeting.

“Shall we continue on to greet the duchess?” Oliver said, extending an arm to Penny.

Mother looped her arm through his before Penny could move to take it, patting his forearm with a smile. “I have so missed seeing your grandmother these past two Christmases. I cannot wait to have a comfortable gossip with her.”

Oliver bowed without a word and led the way up the stairs, Pippa and Penny following behind.

Penny took two steps and hissed in pain. She clutched Pippa’s arm, leaning more heavily on her than Pippa thought she really meant to.

“Is it your knee?” Pippa whispered.

“Yes,” Penny said, her voice a little shaky with pain. “And the ankle, this time.”

The near-fatal fever Penny had suffered almost two years ago had brought a side effect of swollen and painful joints when the weather grew too cold or too damp, and it was both at the moment with the impending snow. Having to stand and greet each servant likely had not helped matters if Penny was already having difficulties.

“Shall we ask to go upstairs and rest?”