Page 65 of Claimed By Her Forbidden Duke
“No, you do not. You saw me leave after her, but that is all. It is hearsay, yes?”
His eyes met his cousin’s knowingly, and after a moment, Benjamin nodded.
“Next time, I will let you both be caught out if you cannot show any gratitude,” Benjamin muttered.
Edmund clapped him on the back, leading them out. “I am immensely grateful,” he said solemnly. “Only next time, do knock at least five minutes later.”
He left his cousin spluttering at the insinuation and strode back to the ballroom.
He hoped there wouldn’t be a next time. Benjamin had not seen anything directly, but he’d still caught them, just as Arabella had. He had to be more careful.
But Penelope was like a fire. She spread through him, burning him. He could not distance himself even when he tried, yet to let himself give in was to burn them both.
Trying to steady his breathing, he took a moment to fully compose himself, knowing that his hair likely looked disheveled, his lips kiss-swollen, and his clothes rumpled from where he had pressed against Penelope.
He was still aroused even if he did not ache as hard as he had in the library. He still craved her, wanting to chase the scent he’d smelled on her skin—vanilla and a touch of rose.
As he slipped into a conversation with another lord, as if he had been there the whole time, Edmund thought that it was worth being burned if it meant he got to touch Penelope again.
* * *
Penelope thought her heart would burst out of her chest as she snuck back into the ballroom, picking a corner that the wallflowers of the ton usually occupied.
It was not a place she would usually go to, but it would keep her out of sight of her friends and her brother. Her friends mostly, because Cecilia would likely take one look at her and knowsomething.
Holding a glass of wine in her trembling hands, she drank half of it to make it look like she had been nursing a drink. She felt as though everybody knew what had transpired in the library, yet nobody looked at her suspiciously.
She was invisible for a moment—mercifully so.
Her legs were trembling still, and she felt damp from her climax. She ached for the feel of Edmund, the length of him that she had been so close to touching.
Penelope was still thinking about Edmund admitting that he had ignored his arousal over her—admitting she had that effect on him—when Finley startled her.
“Where have you been?” he demanded. “I have looked everywhere for you.”
“You could not have looked everywhere, Brother. I have been here the whole time.”
He sneered, looking around the corner she was in, at the maidens who were not yet courted despite having multiple Seasons. “You do not belong here, Penelope.”
“I rather think I do,” she answered, keeping up her pretense. “That is what they say, no? A spinster, a burden to you. Several Seasons passed and I have not found myself a husband.”
She tried to keep the accusation from her voice, but she felt bold, brave, for if the world had not ended after receiving pleasure in the library, then she wanted to be more fearless.
Finley’s eyes narrowed on her. “We are leaving. This ball bores me.”
Penelope knew that was a translation for the fact that he had not made any worthwhile connections or that there was a suitor he wanted to keep her away from.
“I must say goodbye to my fr?—”
“Now, Penelope.”
His eyes darted around, and he sighed, eyeing her dress.
Of course,he has noticed people looking and wants me away.
Giving in, she nodded. “Let us depart, then.”
Finley led her out of the ball.
