Page 2 of Claimed By Her Forbidden Duke
Immediately, the guests strode towards the table.
Before Penelope could even think about claiming a seat next to a handsome lord she might get to know over dinner, her elbow was grasped. Steering her towards another seat, Finley shot her a glare.
“I shall make sure you eat well,” he muttered.
But she could only frown, not liking that he wouldn’t even let her move an inch away from him.
“Truly, do you have to be so close all night? Iamfive-and-twenty, Finley. I am able to make good decisions.”
“Evidently not.” His gaze flicked back to Lord Samuel, who was already tucking his napkin into his collar. “Come, Pen.”
Biting back a sigh at her brother’s usual behavior, Penelope sank into a chair next to him, mustering a smile—even though the room was suddenly stifling. Despite the fact that she sat next to an older gentleman as well as her brother, she felt as though she was not allowed to even greet him. He turned to her, his mouth opening, but was quickly diverted.
“Lord Langwaite,” he greeted Finley instead, quickly inclining his head.
“Lord Greenacre. Do ensure your hands stay in your space on the table. I shall not have my sister touched against her will.”
“Finley,” she hissed, keeping her voice low.
Finley only met her gaze and smiled that soft smile he had always given her as they grew up. The one that reminded her that every time she had faltered in her debut, and even before that as she prepared for it, he had protected her. Already, he must have saved her from dozens of terrible interactions and forced conversations with dull, boring, old lords who did nothing but talk about how many estates they had in all areas of the country.
“My apologies, Sister,” he murmured, not sounding apologetic at all. “I only wish for your evening to go well.”
Penelope sighed as their host greeted the table. She turned her attention pointedly to the Earl of Tilsbury as he explained the courses for that night.
As a lady who had always enjoyed her food, and with no mother to reprimand her for such indulgences, Penelope delighted in the courses listed.
“Haricot beans,” Finley whispered next to her, his eyes sparkling. “Your favorite.”
Penelope smiled brightly at him, but she did not need his running commentary. She bit back her retort and instead followed the feeling of eyes on her.
Across the table and further down were her friends—Mary, Cecilia, and Daphne—all seated with their husbands. The three ladies smiled at her, but she noticed how their smiles quickly faded as they glanced at Finley.
As the first course of white soup, followed by haricot beans, was served, Penelope kept her mouth shut, for she did not trust her brother to not tell her who to speak to. Still, she caught at least one of her friends giving him a dark glower.
Penelope fought back a laugh as her friend, Cecilia Davis, did not stop glowering when Finley followed Penelope’s gaze.
“I do not like the Marchioness of Wetherby,” he muttered, giving a tight, uncomfortable smile to Cecilia. “I feel as though she thinks she is better than us. Which she is not. I do hope you have told her that.”
“Her husband is a marquess,” Penelope pointed out. “She is as ‘better’ than us as your wife would be, should you take one.”
“Ah.” Finley only smirked. “Do not try to lecture me on such matters. That is not your place.”
Penelope only turned away from him and rolled her eyes as she tucked into her dinner.
* * *
After dinner was served and thoroughly enjoyed, the Countess of Tilsbury invited the ladies to go to the drawing room.
Penelope stood up, only to see her brother stand up as well.
“Finley, honestly,” she sighed, exasperated. “Do you wish to join the ladies in the drawing room, too, or may I enjoy the company of the female guests tonight?”
He scowled at her. “I was standing to greet Lord Frederick. He and I are due to discuss business that the swine has been avoiding, and I wish to cash in my part in our venture.”
Feeling slightly silly, Penelope cringed back. “Ah. I see.”
“Do not be so uptight, Pen. I know you will be safe in the drawing room from these… vultures.” He cast another judgmental glare around the room as guests began to step away from the table.
