Page 43 of His Wild Duchess
“You know what I want most of all out of a cottage?”
“What?”
Penelope smiled. “That,” she whispered, nodding towards the dogs. “Seeing them breathless and happy. Exhausted from running over all their land. Exhausted from playing. To think,”she paused, voice almost going so quiet she thought it barely carried over the breeze, “They were once strays, living on the streets of London.”
George’s presence came closer to her side. “It is a good life you wish to give them.”
“It’s the only life they deserve.”
“But,” he said, quietly, “I wonder if it is the life that you seek as well.”
Penelope glanced over at him, suddenly aware of how close he was. “What could you possibly mean by that?”
“Not that I doubt your yearning for independence, that would be hypocritical of me,” George quickly said, holding his hand out to her, “But aren’t there other pleasures you believe…you might…miss?”
Her eyes narrowed. It was odd to see him grasping at words, unsure of what it is he wanted to say. “I’m not sure what you want me to say.”
He sighed. “Wouldn’t you miss having acquaintances at racetracks?”
Penelope blinked, lips slightly parted.
“There are things you wouldn’t be able to do, you know,” he muttered. “If you were out here, in the middle of nowhere.”
“It’s only a carriage ride away.”
“I’m well aware.”
“No, George,” she said, reaching out to touch his arm. “I mean, itisonly a carriage ride away.”
Glancing at her hand over his arm and back up to her face, George’s eyes narrowed. “I’m still not following.”
“Eventually, when we do come across the right place,” Penelope began, speaking slowly as she thoughtfully chose her words, “I would like to think that our…friendship has grown to the point where you’d feel more than welcome to…you know.” She sighed. “Since it’s only a carriage ride.”
George blinked a few times.
“Or if you’d rather not,” she drawled, eyes growing wide with embarrassment, any confidence she had before slipping right out of her, “Just tell me now.”
“Darling,” George suddenly said, his voice cool, “If you wanted me to visit, you should’ve just asked.”
Penelope felt the heat rush to her face as she looked away, crossing her arms angrily over her chest. “You’re such a -”
“What?” George called out with a laugh. “I’d love to hear it!”
Rolling her eyes, Penelope clapped her hands before pulling her fingers up to her lips, and releasing a high-pitched whistle. It rang through the air shrilly, immediately grabbing the wolfhounds attentions. Brutus came first, pausing half way to take a look over his shoulder and make sure his brother, Titus, followed along. Eventually, the tired pair made their way to Penelope’s feet.
Crouching down, Penelope planted kisses on their snouts, pulling them in close for a hug. “My two oldest boys,” she cooed in their ears. “Time to head home before the storm hits.”
As she stood back up, Brutus and Titus trotted over to the carriage, where the driver opened the door up for them.
“You act as if they can understand you,” George said with an amused look.
“What did that look like to you?”
He shrugged. “Commands. Years of training.” He thrusted an accusatory finger at her. “Sorcery?”
“You’re ridiculous!” Penelope huffed. “What sort of fiction have you been reading recently?”
“Keep hiding your secret from me. Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out.”
