Page 61 of His Wild Duchess
“Truly?”
“Is it as spectacular as they say?”
Before George could respond, Fred laughed, the sound bouncing off the walls and startling the horses as they began to make their way out of the stalls.
“We Americans shall be the real test as to whether they are spectacular or not, dear Pen. Just you wait!”
As they made their way out of the stables, back up towards the townhouse, the evening grew ever colder. , George found himself trailing behind, his eyes caught on Penelope’s figure. While he had expected his American friends to visit him sooner rather than later, everything in the future seemed to grow further complicated rather than easier. Soon, the cottage would be ready for Penelope. The stud farm would be finished even quicker. Time was running out, and George was distracted by a growing dilemma
How fake did he truly believe their marriage to be?
And better yet: how much did hetrulywant it to be nothing but a sham?
CHAPTER 17
Vauxhall Gardens was not something that could be explained without seeing it firsthand. Penelope had heard all about it growing up, from breathless descriptive articles to whispers in the Ton of the scandalous pleasures to be found within. None of it, despite being the talk of the town, went on to truly describe what it meant to be within the gardens themselves. Not only was it an expansive place that was larger than anywhere Penelope had been, it was filled to the brim with all sorts of things to see and do.
Upon entering through the proprietor’s house, opening up into a long, wide path known as the Grand Walk, the company of four each received a mask to wear. According to the tickets George had managed to procure in such a short notice, all of Vauxhall was participating in a masquerade, and all the guests were meant to participate. People dressed as jesters, with diamond shaped caps and long, flappy shoes, carried the masks by the bag full, whistling a cheery tune as they searched for the one they thought to be perfect for the particular wearer.
By the time it was their turn, Penelope felt both a mix of fear and excitement, eager to see what layahead but terrified of it all the same. It had been a long time since she had been able to do something new, something she would’ve never experienced if she was still living at Egerton Manor.
Notthat she meant there was regret in the spinster life.
Shaking her head, Penelope took the mask presented to her. It was a golden shade, with fabric knitted into it to create a magical looking creature. Silvery stars dotted the mask, ribbons dangling down the sides to twist within her auburn locks. The mask, luckily, only went across the eyeline, and not the entire face. Penelope hadn’t even thought about wearing a full-faced mask, and her inability to see her companions within the chaotic fun.
“Allow me, darling,” George cooed, grabbing onto her mask and tying it behind her head without waiting for the go ahead. “Splendid,” he murmured, coming to stand in front of her to position it better over her face. “Can you see?”
Penelope smiled, feeling rather adventurous all of a sudden. “How do I look?”
The breath caught in his throat, his hands still lightly grasping onto the corners of the mask, bare fingertips grazing against the top of her cheeks. Warmth rushed below her skin at the contact, his nearness fueling her excitement for adventure once more. For a moment, just a fleeting second, Penelope became overwhelmed with the possibilitythat perhaps George dared to feel the same things she felt.
As the world around them faded into insignificance, Penelope leaned forward, expecting his answer to be something outof fairytales.
George cleared his throat. “We all look rather ridiculous, don’t we?” he asked with a laugh, raising his voice to grab the attention of the Miller’s as well.
“Dear Pen,” Winnifred said, reaching forward to grasp onto her wrist, “You are always the prettiest girl at the ball, I gather.”
“Oh,” Penelope mumbled, raising a hand to her lips as red swarmed her cheeks. Never before had such a thing been said to her in such earnest. It shocked her more than embarrassed, and her immediate thought was to deny it, to tell Winnifred of her sister, Alicia, and the beauty she held, even as a growing mother. “I wouldn’t dare say that at all. Especially not if you were around.”
Winnifred grasped onto her, yanking till they were arm in arm. “You’re suddenly my bestest friend,” she exclaimed. “Did you hear that, fellas?”
George, looking rather smug all of a sudden, glanced over at Fred without a word, seemingly not wanting to be involved in the conversation. He focused his attention towards the Grand Walk, that led towards the outdoor pavilion besides the opera. An orchestra already played as the crowds gathered, many pairs beginning to dance and laugh. Across the way from the pavilion, a hot air balloon was being prepped by jester-outfitted staff.
“Let’s dance, can’t we Winnie?” Fred said, swooping to come beside them with his hand already extended, a mask fastened tightly over his eyes. “And then I’ll remind you who’s been callin’ you the durnedest pretty girl the world’s ever seen!”
Winnifred, beaming from ear to ear with a blush spreading across her sun-kissed skin, eagerly took her husband's hand, giving Penelope a wink over her shoulder. They went, hand in hand, down the Grand Walk, melting within the crowd and stealing a spot on the already crowded pavilion.
“Shall we?” George asked, his voice stiff and rigid despite the fun happening all around him.
Penelope, feeling as though George might’ve preferred a different sort of company, took his arm, hoping her hesitation wasn’t as apparent as it felt. He led her down the Grand Walk, taking his time so as to look over Vauxhall’s sights.
Lights like Penelope had never seen lit up every corner possible. Besides the hot air balloon, acrobats walked a tight rope above the audience’s heads as applause rose around them. Lines waited beside the hot air balloon, excited faces and idle chatter coming together to form a different kind of music than what the orchestra played. The Grand Walk went further than the eye could see, and had multiple different paths shooting off from it, leading to the eastern side of the gardens, where more pleasures and wonders awaited them.
As they drew closer to the pavilion, the orchestra began to play lively music, the dancers clapping along as they danced. Itwas a magnificent thing to see, something that wouldn’t dare touch the inside of an aristocrat’s rigidball. Penelope was eager to join in, almost stepping to the beat the closer they went. George remained rigid beside her, his arm tightly wound around her own. He watched the dancers at the same time, something passing by his face but disappearing within the moment. If he was pleased, Penelope had yet to see it.
She opened her mouth, looking up at him and moments away from asking him to dance. George’s face, rigid and cold, told her to do otherwise. Pressing her lips tightly together, Penelope looked away, turning her attention towards the Millers, who danced a splendid jig to the music.
“I hope you won’t leave me wondering for too long as to how you knew to come to this place,” Penelope finally said, unable to remain in silence beside him. “I can hardly imagine members of the Ton calling it a respectable pastime.”
