Page 4 of Claimed By Her Forbidden Duke
Penelope tried to laugh it off. “Cecilia, you are quite terrible.”
“Terrible, honest. The two are synonymous, no?”
“I would much rather discuss how Daphne is glowing since having Hugo only several months?—”
“That is old news.” Mary waved off her attempt to deflect. “Cecilia, you must tell Pen what we have come up with.”
Penelope’s stomach sank. Her friends could be mischievous, especially in the name of slighting Finley.
She looked at the three of them—Mary, redheaded and already smirking; Cecilia, with her black waves of beautiful hair, already raising her eyebrows as if awaiting her moment to speak; and then Daphne, her blonde curls styled prettily back from her face, her cheeks rosy with the delight of motherhood even as her eyes showed the exhaustion of it.
“What have you come up with?” Somehow, she knew she would regret asking.
Cecilia glanced around them and then leaned in, her green eyes alight with mischief. “Well, we have been discussing amongst ourselves that you need something for yourself. You know… a night away from your stepbrother’s restrictions. All incredibly discreet, of course.”
“Whatever do you mean? What will be discreet?”
The ladies glanced between themselves, stifling giggles, before Cecilia continued, “We have arranged for you to meet with Mr. Julian Gray tonight. Consider it a gift from your friends, who only wish to see you live a little, dear Penelope.”
“Julian Gray?” Penelope said, shocked, trying her best to keep her voice down. “I am afraid I have to call for a doctor, ladies, for you all seem to suffer from insanity if this is your surprise or you think this is a good idea. You—you wish to match me for a night with the ton’s most notorious male escort?”
“It is a brilliant idea,” Mary interjected.
“No.” The refusal came sharp and quick, with Penelope shaking her head. “Absolutely not. I have done nothing of this sort before?—”
“Exactly,” Cecilia cut in. “That is precisely why it must be done!”
“Cecilia, hush.” Daphne’s voice was considerably softer, and even Mary turned quieter in Penelope’s prolonged silence as she tumbled deeper into her fear of their offer.
It was not so much the act itself that Julian Gray would provide—which Penelope was, admittedly, infinitely curious about—but more the thought of sneaking around behind her brother’s back and being caught.
Heavens.
“My brother is terrible at the thought of a proper, well-suited match, as is expected of me,” Penelope began slowly. “If he were to find out about this, I cannot fathom how he would react.”
“We understand your hesitation,” Daphne said quickly. “Goodness, when I first married the Viscount Ayersfield, I was terrified of our wedding night. But Harry was most patient and gentle with me. Very guiding and understanding of my fear.”
“Julian is trained in such acts,” Mary added. “He will guide you through any nerves and worry. Pen, this is a one-time experience, one that you deserve at your age. Even Daphne has agreed that it is for your well-being.”
Daphne flushed, lifting her shoulders in a small, helpless movement. “I did agree to it, and coming from me, I imagine that is quite alarming.”
“Indeed.” Penelope frowned, looking at the three of them in turn, slowly considering.
Did they truly think such a night of scandalous pleasure would fix her life as it was? Her terribly dull, empty life, where she was years behind everybody around her?
The label ofspinsterhaunted her thoughts most days, heightened by her brother’s refusal of every suitor who attempted to speak with her. He had always been, and would continue to be, relentless in his drive to keep the suitors away.
Perhaps…
Perhaps, despite her fear, her friends were correct.
“We have arranged everything for you,” Cecilia told her, taking her hand and squeezing it gently. “As we said, discretion is our utmost priority, for we want you to have a good night without being caught as well, for Finley will most certainly know it was us who arranged it. You shall leave through the servants’ entrance tonight, where a nondescript carriage will await you. The driver is one of my own, and highly trusted. He has been paid handsomely. He will also provide you with a cloak to cover any notable features and your fine gown.”
“I…” Penelope trailed off, still uncertain.
Was she looking at it in the wrong way?
What if they did not intend for it to be a scandalous thing, but something entirely private for her after a life of living beneath her stepbrother’s thumb?
