Page 40 of His Wild Duchess
“Does it sadden you,” George asked, “That you were left behind it all?”
Penelope met his gaze, a smile growing on her face. “Not one bit. And that, George, is why the Ton might like to call me a spinster.”
“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it quite proudly again: you would find great company in the New World.”
Penelope shook her head. “That’s the thing. I have already found great company, and that is in my independence.”
George nodded, feeling something twinge at his heart, something that he couldn’t recognize. The image of Penelope within a cottage, surrounded by her animals, appeared in theback of his mind. While their was only happiness on her face, the idea of it brought something sour to his stomach. He shook his head.
“I applaud you,” he said, raising his glass, “And will officially stop calling you a well-bred lady.”
Penelope laughed, lifting her cup. “Hear, hear!”
They both drank and laughed together, continuing on in their meal with a sort of comfortable easespreading between them. George soaked it up for as long as it would last. When he had made his journey back to London, he never quite thought about the possible things he might enjoy when he had returned home. All he could think about was everything he left behind, everything he had worked for within the New World.
Now, that he sat across a table with a peculiarly unique woman who happened to be his wife, George realized that there was one thing he had begun to revel in.
Penelope’s company.
CHAPTER 11
Within the week of seeing the first cottage, George arranged for them to see another rather quickly. Penelope tried her best not to read into it, since it was somethingshehad proposed when they made their deal. She should only be pleased that he moved with such a fast pace, eager to get all her affairs in order before the end-date rolled along. Though, as she sat in the carriage, this time with the pair of wolfhounds, Penelope watched the side of his face and tried to peer into his mind like a book.
Perhaps he was through with her, and was ready to put her away somewhere. It wouldn’t surprise her in the least. It wasn’t like there were any other suitors who dared to show any interest in her.
“This one feels further from London,” Penelope said within the quiet.
George lifted his head as though he had dozed off. Blinking, he reached to pat Brutus on the head. “Only by a mile or two. Is that too far?”
“Goodness, no,” she quickly replied, pulling her stare away. “Couldn’t be far enough!”
He raised a brow and shrugged before turning away, resting his head against the back of the seat once more.
Chewing on her lip, Penelope wished to turn back time. Ever since their dinner together a few nights ago, the air between them felt calmer than she ever expected it to be. George would still tease, and she would do it right back, but there was a different air to it, something more playful and engaging. Not that she would even dare to complain - somehow, it had become the highlight of her day.
Now, as they went towards another cottage, Penelope’s thoughts circled around on themselves. What was it that she truly wanted? The independence of living within a small cottage still drew her in, with more animals than humans to keep her company. But at the same time, she imagined a future with George, going horseback riding and hiking through the woods.
Her heartbeat rose, chest rising and falling. Placing a hand over her chest, she lightly fanned herself.
“Warm?”
She looked over at George, who watched her quite closely all of a sudden. “Aren’t you?”
“Well,” he smirked, looking down at the pair of dogs, “I don’t have two very large and hairy wolfhounds lying across my lap.”
Penelope chuckled nervously. “I suppose you’re right.”
“What’s a matter with you?”
She glared at him. “Did you forget your manners at home?”
“I didn’t realize the spinster cared for them.”
“George -”
“Devils, Penelope, won’t you relax?” he chuckled, leaning forward to gently tug Brutus off from her lap till he rested along his own. “I only meant to have a little fun. Is there something bothering you?”
“N-No,” she fibbed, feeling rather embarrassed for lashing out at him. “It is only like you said. The carriage is warm, and the hounds.”
