Page 18 of Five Nights with a Rakish Duke
“I… I need to go out,” she said. Her words made Adam’s gaze snap up to her.
“Where?”
She bit her lip, thinking quickly of an excuse.
“To see my godmother,” she said hurriedly, deciding it was for the best. Veronica was always happy to see her; no pre-arrangements were ever needed, so it was a plausible lie to make. In reality, she had no intention of going to see her godmother.
If Adam could not think of a way to get her estates back from the Duke of Kendall, then she would, and the first step to getting them back, was to see the Duke herself.
“Now?” Adam said with surprise. “After what we have just discussed? You can forget it and walk out so easily?”
“You think I could forget it?” she asked in derision. He looked truly guilty, hanging his head in his hands once more. “Adam, I need to see my godmother. You have gambled away my dowry, my inheritance, and any chance I had of making a good marriage. I need her advice at this time.”
“I have money to make up a dowry for you,” Adam said quickly, but one harsh glare from Penelope quieted him. They both knew the estates were worth more than any lump sum he could gather in a short amount of time.
“I need her advice,” Penelope repeated. “I shall be back this evening.” She walked toward the door, determined to leave the study, when Adam’s voice called her to a stop.
“Cousin?” he said, his voice strained with emotion. She paused on the doorframe, hovering for a second before glancing back at him with fresh tears on her cheeks. “I am truly sorry. Please, forgive me?”
“I know you are,” she said with a sad smile. “I’ll forgive you in time, Adam.” She knew she had to, for he had been kind to her apart from this one mistake. “But for now, my anger has blinded me. I’ll see you this evening.”
She turned and walked away, heading as quickly as she could through the corridor and toward the entrance. The butler arrived at the ideal time, looking startled by her sudden approach.
“I need a horse, Travers,” she said quietly. “As quick as you can, please.”
“Of course, My Lady,” he said, bowing and hurrying to abide by her wish.
With the order given, she rushed up the stairs and found a long pelisse from her wardrobe with a great silken hood that could be pulled over her head to hide her features. If she was going to go to the Duke’s house, then she didn’t want anyone to know of it. That was why she had not asked for a carriage, for she didn’t want to be seen there. At least on a horse, riding alone, she had a chance of staying hidden.
Once dressed in the pelisse with her face masked from view, she headed outside and mounted the horse. Despite the groom’s repeated pleas for a maid to accompany her, she assured him she was fine as she was only going around the corner to Veronica’s house. The groom soon gave up his complaints. One whispered question to the stable boy answered the only other thing she needed to know – the location of the Duke’s house.
By the time she set off, Penelope had her plan. She was going to plead for her estates to be returned to her, rather than Adam, and she hoped that the kindness the Duke had revealed the other night stretched further than she had even imagined it to.
* * *
“Your Grace, you’re back,” the butler said with surprise as Asher walked into the house.
“Apologies, Walker, after my business was done, I went to see Lord Upperton for a while.” He spoke nonchalantly, trying to cover up the turmoil of his thoughts. After having seen Lord Larson that morning, the sight of having bumped into the mystery woman had startled him, knocking him for sixes.
The mystery woman is Lord Larson’s cousin, Lady Penelope Burton.
He may have gotten her name, but that didn’t stop how his mind seemed to obsess over her. After he had left the meeting with Lord Larson, he had parted from the house, constantly looking for her on route, but he found no sign of her, much to his disappointment. His visit to Dorian had been an attempt to distract himself from thoughts of her but to little avail.
“There are two things you should be aware of, Your Grace.” Walker hurried alongside Asher as they crossed the long black and white tiled corridor, bordered with white stone statues.
“Is all well?” Asher asked, noting the odd tone his butler was using. For a man that was normally so happy, he seemed most concerned; his manner was unsettled, and his eyes were darting around.
“First, there is an urgent message from your mother,” Walker said, passing over a letter.
Asher took the letter, noting his mother’s scrawl across the top and feeling his stomach clench at the sight. His mother spent most of her time at their country seat these days, and he didn’t doubt that this letter was the same as her last ones, insisting that it was time he lived up to his promise to his father and married. He pocketed the letter, deciding he could wait to read her words until later.
“There is a second thing?” Asher asked, watching as Walker’s eyes flitted toward the small parlor door.
“Yes, Your Grace…” he trailed off and lifted a finger, pointing toward the door.
“Is the room on fire or something?” Asher asked with a laugh. “You do seem most put out.”
“Someone has come to see you,” Walker answered, lowering his voice to a whisper before glancing around the hallway, clearly wary of being overheard. “It is a young lady, who has refused to give me her name. Your Grace, I believe she does not want it known that she is here.”
