Page 2 of His Wild Duchess
Mrs. Daughtry waved an impatient hand at her. She handed over Alicia’s letter, the waxen seal still and unbroken. The words “Garvey Manor” were written in delicately neat script on the back. “Perhaps you could read it to Lady Egerton? I’m sure it would brighten her day.” The housekeeper turned, adding under her breath, “and soothe some of her anxieties.”
Walking to one of the round dining tables that sat in the afternoon light, Penelope snagged a glistening red apple from a basket at the center. She tossed it in the air, catching it with herother hand. “What on earth would we ever do without you, Mrs. Daughtry?”
“Starve,” the housekeeper muttered as she started to walk away. “Die of thirst. Live in the woods like a bunch of dirt-covered animals, to name a few possibilities.”
Penelope laughed, as loud and boisterous as any man. The sound bounced off walls and filled the room. She tossed the apple again before sinking her teeth into its skin. A burst of sweet juice filled her mouth, the apple’s crisp flesh almost melting in her mouth. Hours in the sun left her feeling dehydrated and empty, and the apple felt worth its weight in gold.
It was one of the many pleasures of living beside nature. No matter how tired she became from her exercise or the sun’s heat alone, the moments afterward of rest and leisure felt more gratifying than ever before.
Crossing the room, Penelope munched on her apple, still holding her dirtied boots. She’d place them in the foyer for one of the footmen to pick up and get cleaned before heading to her room for a bath. Lady Egerton probably waited impatiently for her now but would never accept one of her daughters showing up covered in dried mud and grass.
In the foyer, Penelope set her shoes down beside the rest, ignoring the dirt that fell onto the floor when she did so.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Penelope paused. She was only a few feet away from the door. She heard rummaging and quick feet down the hall, but no steps drew near. She waited, eyes flickering between the door and the hall.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
The butler was nowhere to be seen. Shrugging, Penelope took another quick bite of her apple before opening the door. After Ms. Daughtry’s lecture, what more harm could her unconventionality do her?
On the other side, lit by the gleaming sun, was an exceptionally tall and unnervingly handsome gentleman. Penelope was quite tall herself, taking after her father rather than the dainty stature of Lady Egerton, but the man at the door was still at least a head taller than her. The sharp coats he wore were tight against him, muscles along his arms and abdomen forcing the clothes to bulge uncomfortably.
When Penelope met his eyes, the man flashed a lopsided grin, deep dimples popping out on either cheek. As she opened her mouth to speak, footsteps came from behind her. She looked over her shoulder, catching a glimpse at the out-of-breath butler, who watched her with a frantic shock.
“Can I help you, sir?” Penelope asked, hearing the cold edge to her words.
The stranger raised a brow, his amused smile only growing wider. “I need to speak to the Marquess of Egerton.”
Penelope frowned. The last time someone knocked on their door, asking to speak to her brother Owen, her sister got whisked away and married. Not only that, but the man spoke with an odd accent, one that felt familiar to England but also tinged with something foreign, something brash and loud. A pit of dread began to pool at the depths of her stomach, her stare becoming angry as she watched the stranger.
“Right this way, sir!” the butler called out, gently trying to push Penelope out of the way.
She could only stare, side-stepping till the stranger could enter Egerton Manor. As he passed by, the man stole another look at her, his coffee-colored eyes dropping to her bare feet and slowly sliding back up to the top of her head. When he met her gaze, a smirk spread across his lips, the slightest of laughs coming out of his mouth. Penelope gaped, unable to stop the rush of embarrassment that enveloped her.
The butler beckoned for the stranger to follow as he crossed the foyer. The man kept his hands behind his back as he followed, head-turning every way to take in the portraits hanging from Egerton’s walls.
Penelope, overwhelmed with curiosity and displeasure, crossed her arms over her chest, following them close behind with pursed lips. The stranger wore his dark hair in a small ponytail at the base of his neck. Seeing an aristocratic gentleman with longer hair and a broad athletic body was odd. It gave off the impression of a working lifestyle, as if the man spent more time outdoors than most other Ton members.
Peculiar,Penelope thought, unable to tear her gaze away.
The butler escorted the stranger into one of Egerton’s drawing rooms. “Make yourself comfortable, sir. I will go fetch the Marquess.”
The butler left in a hurry, and a hastily summoned maid slipped inside with a tray of refreshments. Penelope slipped in after her.
She hadn’t seen her brother all day. Much like the way Alicia’s life took a turn after her engagement, Owen now rushed to prepare for a wedding. It had taken longer than a decade, but he finally made the move to settle and wed before Lady Egerton collapsed from the stress her children caused.
Penelope turned to the stranger. How dare he disrupt Owen even more during a chaotically busy time? “It’s rude to not share your name with a lady of the house you’re visiting,” she said, voice tinged with sarcasm. “Won’t you be sokind as totell me your name?”
“Only if you do the same.” The stranger smiled widely.
Taken aback, Penelope crossed her arms, looking away impatiently. “I am Penelope Caney,” she replied, glaring at him. “Sister to the Marquess of Egerton.”
“Right,” he said, as if he already knew her. “The younger sister, correct?”
She raised a brow. “What’s it to you?”
The man pressed his lips together thoughtfully. “Is your older sister here?”
