Page 45 of His Wild Duchess
“Of course not,” she snapped, getting irritated with him. “Your goal is to open that stud farm, isn’t it? Mr. Fitzburgh can only do so much with his place in the racetrack. Finding more willing parties within society still should be your priority.”
“I’m sorry, Penelope, but are you now trying to fight againstyourself?”
Sighing, she threw her head back. “I can barely think straight,” she mumbled.
George scooted so that he sat directly across from her, leaning forward so that his elbows leaned against his knees. “Darling, take the night off. We’ll return to the deal and our shammarriage and everything in between tomorrow.” He reached his hand out as if to shake hers. “For the meantime, I think we should reintroduce ourselves, as newly acquainted friends, of course.”
She watched him with wide eyes. Every time she spoke to him, he did another thing to keep her on her toes. His relaxed posture and extended hand sent her nerves racing, the yearning to be as carefree as him incredibly tempting. And finally, since he so willingly offered, she found herself with no reason to argue.
“Penelope,” she said as she took his hand.
He grinned. “George.”
And the evening had only just begun.
When the carriage stopped at the front steps that led up to Garvey Manor, Penelope decided that, since they were only being themselves, she would remove the tight and stuffy gloves Clarissa insisted that she wore. The blue dress given to her was long and light, the layers so thin that it felt like she was dressed by the wind. Clarissa did her hair in an updo, most of it in a bun at the top of her head while certain curly strands were left down to frame her face. George dressed in a simple suit, already removing the coat before they had even gone up the steps.
As they entered, the sounds of a lively party pulled them in. Men and women of the Ton, recognizable Lords and Ladies, mingled around the parlor, all of them holding fluted glasses and some small plates.
“Relax, darling,” George said from her right as he handed his jacket off to a servant.
She sighed. “It’s hard in places like this for people like me.”
“Oh,” he drawled with an eyeroll, “Don’t insist on being so dreary. You know what,” he paused, snapping his fingers together. “I know exactly what can help.”
As a servant came by with a tray full of glasses, George reached, quickly and effortlessly snatching two off it. He passed one over to her. “Drink up.”
“Thisis your solution?”
“Well, it’s either that, or -”
“Penelope!”
Turning, she laid her eyes on Alicia, whosebright green eyes lit the room the moment she came in. Still incredibly petite, Alicia looked as if she had barely aged in a day, even after a marriage and two children. Her white dress hugged her snugly, hair pulled into a delicate crown above her head.
“Alicia,” she called out, quickly taking a long drink, “Thank you for inviting us!”
“How could I not?” Alicia said, giving her a wide smile. “It was long overdue! Your Grace,” she said, turning her attention respectfully to George. “It’s my pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I apologize for not doing so sooner. This past season at Garvey has been a busy one.”
“Busy enough for a party?” Penelope asked with a raised brow.
“Now, now, Penny,” Alicia said, reaching to wrap a slender arm around her waist, “Let’s not forget who theoldersister is.” She gave George another innocently sweet smile. “Won’t you follow me, your Grace? My husband has been very eager to meet you.”
As Alicia forcibly dragged Penelope alongside her, leading them down a hall and into another parlour, Penelope stole a glance over her shoulder at George. He sipped at his wine leisurely, a permanent smirk etched onto his lips. When he caught her looking at him, he flashed her a wink, the smirk widening to show pearly teeth.
Penelope snapped her gaze away, unable to hide her embarrassment. Drinking more from her glass, she almost stumbled when Alicia pulled her arm away to embrace her own husband. Before Penelope could fall, George appeared at her right, replacing where Alicia once stood. He snaked his arm around her waist, keeping her upright and close to his hip.
Penelope glanced at him, her gaze trailing down to their contact. “What are you doing?” she whispered at him, keeping the glass over her lips. “I thought we weren’t pretending.”
George gave her a sideways glance and remained silent for a moment, one eyebrow slowly lifting.
The air was stolen from Penelope’s throat as he watched her.What did that imply?she thought to herself. That he wasn’t pretending, or he was lying about pretending?Her chest rose and fell quickly before he leaned down closer to her ear.
“According to your sister and her very important husband,” George whispered, “We are very much married.”
Penelope breathed a sigh, unsure if it was relief or disappointment that she felt. Lowering her glass, she looked back over as Alicia and her husband, Matthew, the Duke of Garvey, approached.
“This is George Houston, the Duke of Yeats,” Alicia introduced, one arm tucked around her husband’s. Turning her attention to George, she said, “Your Grace, this is my husband, Matthew, the Duke of Garvey.”
