Page 15 of Claimed By Her Forbidden Duke
Julian’s eyes sparkled. “Perhaps that is what some people need for their eyes to be opened.”
“Not my cousin,” Edmund retorted, draining his second drink.
“Very well,” Julian sighed. “After all, I do owe you.”
Edmund nodded, set down his glass, and rose to his feet. “Enjoy your night.”
“Oh, I shall. I am sure my lady friend shall appear any moment, so do make sure to go unseen, lest you be the star of the scandal sheets tomorrow morning.”
Julian’s teasing call followed Edmund right out of the townhouse, reminding him of Lady Penelope.
Little did his friend know that his next appointment would not arrive. Unless she was bolder than she had seemed and would find a way to lead herself back to Julian’s house.
With the thought of tempting, fawn-haired Lady Penelope still haunting him, Edmund disappeared into the night.
ChapterFive
“Irather like your dress today, Pen. Is it one of the new ones I bought for you last month?”
Sunlight poured into the dining hall of Langwaite Manor the morning after Penelope’s failed attempt at a night of freedom. She had yet to write to her friends and tell them. It was only then that she recalled that they had, in fact, decided to meet for tea to discuss her night.
Having been engrossed in the floating dust motes highlighted by the morning sun, Penelope started, jumping back into her chair. The compliment slid over her skin like the soft rays of the sun at the beginning of summer, making her shoulders curl inward.
“Oh,” she said, her voice cracking. “Yes. Yes, it is.”
Finley knows.
Her eyes flickered to her stepbrother, who merely looked at her. He was sitting at the head of the table, Penelope herself to his left.
“How was your night?”
Oh, goodness, he does know. He knows. He knows?—
“I did not get to greet you properly when I came home, but I am sure you understand I had my obligations to Lord Frederick. Business discussions got quite heated.”
Penelope forced her stiff shoulders to relax. He was merely enquiring, thinking he had neglected her to venture out to his gentlemen’s club after the dinner party.
“It was nice. I merely relaxed with a glass of wine in the parlor.”
Wrong answer, she thought, as Finley furrowed his brow.
“Do not drink too much wine, Pen. You may get a taste for it, and keep on drinking it at our social events. I shall not have anybody taking advantage of you when you are inebriated.”
She nodded.
Her story was not entirely a lie. After her nerves had been frayed outside the escort’s house, she truly had come home to drink a glass of wine, avoiding her brother, pretending to be asleep when he had called out for her upon his return.
“I will be most careful,” she assured him.
She thought he would nod and return to his breakfast, but he only frowned, looking at her for a moment longer.
“Are you all right?” he asked. “You have barely touched your breakfast. I felt quite guilty after last night, seeing how I made you feel after dinner when you questioned me about joining you in the drawing room with the ladies. I admit it caused me to ask our cook to serve your favorites for breakfast.”
Finley’s smile should have been a comfort, but Penelope’s stomach clenched, guilty for her actions.
“See? Brioche and dried apple pie.”
“It is all very delicious, Brother.” Penelope tried to keep her smile bright, but she knew she was not fooling him. Under his concerned gaze, she helped herself to a slice of brioche, eating with forced enthusiasm. “Thank you for thinking of this.”
