Page 10 of Secrets of a Duke's Heart
“I myself turn forty in a few weeks,” he said indignantly. To Jude, the difference in ages hadn’t seemed egregious. He hadn’t thought to ask Harriet.
“And I am not yet thirty. I would still hesitate to marry a lord twice my age. If I were barely into my twenties, I cannot claim I would do so with any enthusiasm.”
He did not want to argue with Miss Penfirth.
“I made my decision. Harriet agreed it was her best option.”
“What other choice did you give her?”
“I told her she could live at home”—he remembered not to mention his estate, lest he tip off the intelligent Miss Penfirth that he was no mere mister—“forever. She preferred marriage to the man I selected as the most suitable match for her.”
Guilt gnawed at his bones. Harriet might not bear the honor of a title due to the unfortunate circumstances of her birth, but he had raised her to be a lady and he wanted to rectify his sister’s error by ensuring that his niece received the distinction through marriage that she had been denied by birthright.
“Did she have any say in the matter? Apart from yes or no? Did he court her, is what I’m asking.”
“She had five Seasons to find a suitor on her own.” The breeze was cold and crisp now, indicating that they were near the exit. Why wasn’t the passageway getting lighter? They ought to be able to see the opening to the hidden cave by now.
“I can personally attest that a lady without either an ample dowry or striking looks will struggle to attract a suitor.”
“Her dowry was fine.” The grinding noise in his ears was from his own teeth. “You should have had no difficulty, dowry or no.”
She barked a laugh. “Me?”
“Yes, you,” he said gruffly. “You’re beautiful.”
“I assure you I am nothing of the sort, though I appreciate the compliment.”
His ears burned. Jude hadn’t meant to blurt that out, however sincerely he meant it. Worse, he’d made Miss Penfirth feel awkward. Her cheeks might be pink from physical exertion, but judging from the way she wouldn’t meet his eye, there was a measure of embarrassment in the mix.
“Well,” he said. “This wasn’t here last time. I suppose this might be why the upper door was such a makeshift contraption.”
He shoved on a wooden panel. Beyond it was a natural cave leading out into the sea. Water sloshed around his boots. Miss Penfirth joined him on the narrow walkway. The door slammed shut behind them.
“A rising tide,” she said when a particularly strong wave graced the toe of her boot. She edged back. “Look at the mark on the wall there. By high tide, there will only be a few feet of walkway. We should go back before we’re trapped here. I have seen everything I need to see.”
Wordlessly, Jude pushed the door. It didn’t move.
“Stuck,” he said in disbelief.
“Let me try.”
He stood back, as far as was possible, and for once in his life managed not to say anything while she attempted to pull, push, and otherwise yell for help.
“Save your breath. They won’t hear you.”
Miss Penfirth slumped with her back against the door, staring at the sloshing water in defeat.
“What will we do now?”
“Wait,” he said grimly. “Unless you know how to swim?”
* * *
Time passed.Without any way to gauge it, for he had left his pocket watch back at Prescott’s, each second felt like an hour. Minutes ticked by in eons. The incessant waves crept higher, sloshing over the makeshift walkway and forcing them back against the stone wall. The sun’s rays through the far opening barely shifted. Jude grew tired of staring at them.
“Someone must notice us missing soon.”
“I admire your optimism, Miss Penfirth.”
