Page 39 of Claimed By Her Forbidden Duke
She held back her smart remark, biting her tongue.
Finley’s eyes narrowed at her tone as he looked her up and down once again. “Fine. Just… do wear a less revealing dress. Why, you look improper. Is this Lady Wetherby’s influence? It has her name all over it. Perhaps this is so you can attract some attention in public. I assure you that just because I will not be there, does not mean you can converse?—”
“Finley!” Penelope cried. “Do not accuse my friend of such things. It is not for any reason except for liking this dress. It is a lovely dress, one thatyoubought.”
The reminder seemed to slightly placate him, and he huffed. “You really ought to preserve your honor in public, Pen, and this dress does not help with that. I do not want anybody gossiping about you or our family simply because your neckline is rather low.”
You ought to not be looking at my neckline,Penelope wanted to snap.
“I am sure it is fine,” she muttered instead.
“Please, Pen. Do it for a worried older brother who knows how the scoundrels of the ton act. If I am not with you, I cannot protect you from them.”
He looked so helpless for a moment that she felt her resolve crumbling, as it always did.
Slowly, her shoulders slumped, and she sighed, beckoning over her lady’s maid, who had retreated to the corner of her room.
“I will wear the dark purple gown instead,” Penelope told her, mourning the soft lavender fabric she had to take off.
Her eyes landed on her brother, who stayed rooted to the spot.
“Brother?”
Leave. Please leave.
He lingered for another moment before turning around, but he did not leave.
Penelope motioned for her lady’s maid to be quick, silently redressing while her heart hammered. Every part of her moved stiffly, and her eyes did not leave her brother’s back, afraid of him turning around. But she asked herself anyway—why would he? He only wanted to ensure she was protected from leering men.
As her maid laced her into the new dress that covered her up to her neck, Penelope met her eyes and then quickly averted her gaze. Her maid knew plenty about Finley’s behavior, even though she would never dare to speak her thoughts aloud.
Penelope felt shame bloom in her chest.
“I am ready,” she announced.
Finley turned back, his face brightening. “Excellent. See? That is much more appropriate. Nobody will see your…” He raised his eyebrows as if embarrassed. “Well, I am sure you are aware of what I mean. Do not let those friends of yours get to your head, Pen. They are married and able to do as they please. They clearly care little for how an unmarried lady must present herself in public. Lady Wetherby is wanton, and I shall not have her influence your very honorable ways, as I have noticed her trying to do. You are well-behaved—do not let her sway you from that.”
Penelope wanted to fight back and protest, but it drained her to even have such conversations with her brother, so she only smiled as she needed to—as he would want her to—and nodded.
“Lovely.” Finley nodded as if she was doing well, and retreated from her room. “Enjoy your shopping trip!”he called over his shoulder, careless and uninterested.
Until Cecilia arrived, Penelope waited in her room, not wanting to endure her brother’s scrutiny again, but soon she heard the clatter of hooves and carriage wheels.
Peeking out of her bedroom window, her mood brightened at the sight of Cecilia being helped out of the carriage.
Hurriedly, she donned her gloves and hurried downstairs in a rather unladylike way, eager to be free of the house for a while—to be free of her brother’s attention.
Cecilia was halfway up the walkway to the house when Penelope opened the door, eagerly stepping outside and closing it behind herself.
Cecilia immediately took in her dress with a frown. “Oh, dear Penelope, that is not what you are wearing, is it?”
Penelope stepped back, frowning. “Yes. What is wrong with it?”
She hated that she had to act offended, as ifshehad chosen such a gown.
Cecilia hummed for a moment. “It is too warm for the weather, and I am sure you can afford to show a little more décolletage, no? If I was a spinster, I would be as daring as I could get away with—a walking enticement for the suitors.” Her eyes sparkled with glee.
Penelope huffed, stepping past her friend to climb into the carriage. “Yes, well, I am not you, and I am not a walking enticement.”
