Page 47 of His Wild Duchess
“Alicia,” Penelope whispered, leaning out of the door’s threshold despite the aching that began in her chest, “I do not see children in our future anytime soon.”
“No need to fret,” Alicia replied. “You have plenty of time.”
“Well, I don’t -”
Alicia gently shut the door. “We don’t need to have deep talks like that now, Penny. I’m only glad you’re here.” She wrapped her arm around her waist, steering her back in the way they came. “I hope you’ll enjoy the party. Won’t you stay overnight?”
“I’m afraid not,” Penelope said.
“Right,” Alicia drawled, “I don’t remember seeing any of your hounds trailing in behind you.” She gave her a wide smile. “How is Ali, the spaniel? I do miss her.”
“You are welcome to come see her, you know,” Penelope said, giving her sister a sideways glance. No matter what anybody dared to say about her owning so many dogs, there never failedto always be an animal for somebody. Alicia had an affinity for the spaniel Ali, and they spent most days alongside each other before Alicia began her own family.
Alicia shrugged. “There’s too much on my hands for it.”
“You see,” Penelope said, stopping in her tracks. “That’swhat I don’t understand. If the married life is perfect for you, why don’t you have time for the things you want to do?”
“Don’t be naive, Penny. And who told you that married life is perfect?”
She frowned. “I thought that’s what everyone thought.”
“Of course it isn’t!” Alicia said with a laugh. “It is infuriating as much as it is beautiful. And you know what? I quite like all the things that are on my hands at the moment. Just because I’m busy doesn’t mean it’s inherently bad.” She reached, giving her arms a squeeze. “I am the happiest I ever have been, Penny. I only hope you can be too.”
Alicia reached, opening the door that led back into the parlour. Penelope waded in after her, feeling sort of stunted by her sister’s mind-boggling words. While people liked to say that it was advice well needed, something that should help Penelope think straight, she was only left more confused, unsure of where it was she needed to turn.
As they reentered the parlor, Penelope’s eyes landed on George. He still stood with Matthew , but this time, there were multiple Lords surrounding him, a few of them with curious Ladies on their arms. George was in the middle of a story, his glass replaced with another full one. All the faces of his audience watched him intently, even the stoic Matthew that Penelope had remembered as a hard looking man, had a smile permanently on his face. As Alicia came up beside him, reaching for physical contact, she saw his smile grow even more.
Her heart ached some more, though she was afraid to pinpoint its origin.
Approaching the group, George reached the tail end of the story. Everyone was clapping and laughing, throwing in their two cents before the topic quickly changed. George turned, his gaze landing on her. Immediately, much like Matthew, he lit up, a smile stretching from ear to ear.
Penelope grinned back at him. “Care for a walk through the Manor?”
Slipping his arm around her own, he said, “I believe it is called apromenade.”
“Look at you,” Penelope teased as they left the parlor, “Using your fancy English terms.”
“Is it believable enough?”
“Well, it wouldn’t be a promenade, would it? We only take a turn about the room.” Penelope laughed. “You know, I find it quite odd that Englishmen would take you for an American.”
“And why is that?”
“Well, aren’t Americans supposed to be devilishly rugged and handsome?”
George froze, earning a few unpleasant looks from passers-bythat bumped into his shoulder. “You’ve really hurt me, Penny,” he said, placing a dramatic hard over his chest. “Truly.”
“Are you going to call me that now?”
“What, Penny?” he repeated, a smirk crawling across his face. “Do you not like it?”
“It makes me think of being a child.”
George laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t want that, darling. I’ll stick to Penelope.”
A blush burnt across her face as they carried on throughout the party. Food and drinks were served throughout the night, and Penelope lost track of the time almost the moment they stepped inside Garvey Manor. George’s arm never once left her side, always having a firm grip and keeping her tight against him. The contact kept her distracted all evening, her mind always fuzzyand taking an extra second to think about what she wanted to say.
By the time came for them to begin their carriage ride back to the townhouse, Penelope grew wistful in a way, imagining how they’d go back to their pretending the moment they reentered London. That being said, the wistful feeling left as quickly as it came. Penelope had more glasses of that wine than she ever had before, and it filled her stomach alongside the small amount of food she ate.
