Page 29 of His Wild Duchess
“Ah, so you’re saying that American men are outright better than English men?”
She sighed irritably. “No, that’s not what I said at all.”
“Relax, darling, I only tease,” he said coolly. “It is a mighty fine compliment, thank you.”
“Don’t expect it again anytime soon.”
George grinned, leaning his head back against the seat and closing his eyes. “I wouldn’t dare,” he murmured.
Penelope watched as he fell asleep, his hand resting over Priory’s narrow head. It was infuriating, how it all seemed to bother her so. George had a curious way of getting beneath her skin, and making his presence very known. A part of her bristled at the idea of spending so much time alongside an aristocratic man, a rebellious one or not. Another piece of Penelope yearned to linger beside him, to remain in that moment, where he was relaxed enough to sleep, one of her beloved pets resting alongside him.
It all felt rather too good to be true, and it brought a sense of hesitancy to her. What happened when it was ripped away? When the ineveitable catastrophe managed to appear and ruin all her bright prospects for an independent future?
Penelope remained wide awake on the journey to the cottage, her mind racing too swiftly to ignore.
The road leading up to the cottage grew bumpy rather quickly. It was apparent that not many travelers came that way, leaving the path to be one that wasn’t quite kind to carriages from London. Nevertheless, the driver pushed on, and the pair of foxhounds within the compartment restlessly fidgeted around, eager to get out of the cramped conditions they were forced in.
Penelope held her feet up, letting the dogs roam while staying out their way. George seemed resistantto that idea, keeping his legs stretched and toppling the dogs. Eventually, when the atmosphere within grew almost painful, the carriage rolled to a sudden stop.
Scooting past the dogs, George reached for the door, and pushed it open. The dogs leapt out without a moment to lose, pulling a laugh out of Penelope.
“Those - !” George started, looking back at her relaxed expression. “Aren’t you going to call them back?”
“I wouldn’t worry. They’ll come back.”
George scoffed, waving an impatient hand at her before climbing out the carriage. Once he was out, he stuck his hand in to help her out. Annoyed at his own attitude, Penelope pushed his hand away, and stepped out on her own. Immediately, a wash of warm spring air rolled over her, the smells of wildflowers and dewy grass filling her mindwith nostalgia.
“Don’t you just love it?” she asked, face raised to the sun.
“Love what?”
Penelope extended her arms out to either side of her. “This,” she murmured. “All of this. The trees, the breeze, the sky, the sun. The heat. It is magnificent, isn’t it?”
George pulled off his overcoat, tossing it into the carriage before snapping the door shut, wading through the overgrown grass. Rolling up his sleeves to his elbows, he gestured towards the small cottage that was a few yards down. “Truthfully, I might be able to do without it.”
“Isn’t it hot in the New World?”
“Sure,” he replied. “And cold. And full of storms that rock the earth and shape mountains.”
“I would like…” Penelope let her words trail off, suddenly embarrassed at what she had thought to say. “Nevermind that.” Moving forward, she went closer to the cottage.
George jogged to keep up. “What would you like?”
“I only had the thought,” she started. “A silly thought, at that, to one day, perhaps, see the New World for myself.”
He watched the side of her face as they approached the cottage. “Why not?”
“Because I’m not–”
“I went when I had nothing more than the clothes on my back and money in my pocket,” George said with a shrug. “What’s stopping you?”
Penelope hung back as he continued forward, suddenly feeling quite breathless. George opened the cottage’s front door, slipping inside and talking absentmindedly to himself. He rose his voice as if to speak to her, but she remained further behind, taking small steps to get closer.
She wasn’t sure what it was that she wanted to hear from him after mentioning that. Whatever she sought, it wasn’t what he had said. It couldn’t have been for him to offer the idea of them going together.
It couldn’t have been that…right?
“Penelope,” George called out, his head poking out the front window, “Come round the back!”
