Page 14 of His Wild Duchess
One by one, the dogs slowly trickled into the room. Butternut, the tabby cat, sprinted past them, leaping onto a windowsill.Titus and Brutus walked together before slowly sinking into the rug, both releasing a deep breath before falling into a heavy sleep. Priory remained close to Penelope’s legs. She was a small, nervous thing and found it hard to acclimate to new places quickly, like the rest of the pack. Penelope scratched the dog’s chin reassuringly.
“Thank you very much, Mrs. Howard. It is a beautiful room.”
Mrs. Howard nodded, awkwardly glancing around at the dogs. “I will retrieve you once dinner is served.” And on that note, she turned on her heel and left, shutting the door behind her.
Penelope crossed the room and fell into the bed. The dogs quickly followed, each of them burying themselves in a different way around her. They brought a heavy pressure onto her chest, like a tight hug. Even though they couldn’t speak, Penelope let her eyes close and imagined that she could hear their voices talking together in the back of her mind.
We are here, Penelope. Don’t worry.
We are here.
Only one of the dogs followed Penelope that evening as Mrs. Howard led her to the dining room. It was Antony, the black mastiff. For reasons she could not place, the dog clung relatively close to her when the housekeeper arrived to escort her. Theother animals were far too tired to offer anything other than a quiet bark when there was a knock at the door.
Antony remained as close as possible.
Mrs. Howard led her to a vast room dimly lit by warm candlelight. The Duke was already inside, staring out one of the windows absentmindedly.
“Your Grace,” Mrs. Howard announced to him, “the Duchess.”
Penelope entered as the housekeeper left. Dressed in a simple white dress, she twirled a finger around her hair, nervous anticipation for the evening sending goosebumps up and down her bare arms. The Duke bowed to her before crossing the room, pulling back a seat at the table for her.
“Good evening,” Penelope said as she went to take her seat.
“Evening,” he replied into her ear while pushing the chair in. “You look lovely, despite the barn your bedroom appears to be.”
Penelope raised a brow as he sat across from her. “Now it’s a barn?”
“You have enough dogs in there to sled across the snow,” the Duke teased. “And a single cat to order them around. Sounds like a barn to me.”
Looking down at her food, Penelope buried her irritation. Sure, the Duke could come off as charming, but at the same time, he seemed rather pleased to get himself beneath her skin. All she needed to do was handle it for two months. Handle the judgemental staff. Handle the housekeeper, who would probably always be displeased. Every second would be one step closer to the cottage, to her dream.
“I thought it wise for us to discuss the arrangements of our deal,” the Duke said after the wine was poured.
Penelope looked up, suddenly nervous. “What else was there to discuss?”
“Ah, look at you,” the Duke cooed. “Playing coy to slip by unnoticed and get that cottage in no time. Is that the game you played?”
“There’s no game, your Grace. You knew that was my goal from the start.”
“Well, yes, but did you just assume you’d get there without doing any work?”
Penelope’s eyes widened, but she kept up a strong front, not wanting the Duke to sense any nerves. “Is that what they preach in the colonies? Work your women, and they’ll get what they deserve?”
He laughed loudly. “You Londoners,” he spat, giving her an eye roll. “Every last one of you has the exact opposite idea of what the New World is truly about.”
Fighting the urge to ask him more about the colonies, Penelope crossed her arms at the table. “All I’m saying is that I don’t remember that being a part of our agreement.”
The Duke chuckled, swallowing a large bite of food. “You haven’t even heard what it is yet. Aren’t you at all curious?”
Penelope looked away, unable to find the right words.
“That’s what I thought,” he teased. “Do you happen to know a high society woman by the name of Lady Tollock?”
“Of course,” she replied with a shrug. “Lady Tollock holds the largest ball every season at the Benedict House.”
“My, my,” the Duke mused, leaning back in his seat. “The womandoesknow about London society!”
Penelope rolled her eyes. “I do read the papers, your Grace. Every Londoner knows of Lady Tollock, with or without attending the Season’s events.”
