Page 66 of His Wild Duchess
Looking up, George met Fred’s knowing stare as Winnie drifted to sleep on his own shoulder. George grew somber as the heartache he felt before came rushing back. While Fred got to take his wife to their bedroom in the evening, gladly leaving as many kisses against her skin as he would like, George would have to give up Penelope within the next week or so. Leaning his head back against the carriage seats, George wondered if Penelope would dream of him in the same way he dreamt of her each coming night.
CHAPTER 19
Things grew more unclear as the days carried on for Penelope. Most things remained the same. She continued on her duties that were presented by Mrs. Howard, never strayed from taking her animals on daily excursions outside into the summer heat. Clarissa remained a dutiful maid while daydreaming about falling in love and falling out of it. The responsibilities that rested on Penelope’s shoulders began to deal with the solely the ball, as she had to finish approving all the changes being made to Yeats Manor.
It was the moments spent with George that changed and morphed into something she couldn’t recognize. It used to be easy around him, easy to let the walls fall and let the banter pass between them. Now, Penelope struggled to face him head one, constantly overwhelmed with the overbearing need to be by his side, while grappling with the emotions of leaving sometime soon.
One morning, Penenlope had her breakfast before the rest of the household, sitting at the table, surrounded by her countlessbeasts, while reading a novel. She was buried within the trenches of the story when noise came from the door, and the animals stirred curiously.
George entered, looking rather startled to see her. Antony rose from his spot beneath the table, stretching towards him in greeting with a wagging tail. George patted the top of the mastiff’s head as he crossed the room to the other end of the table.
“Good morning,” Penelope said.
George met her gaze as though he hadn’t realized she was there. “Good morning, Penelope.”
“Early for you, isn’t it?”
He scoffed. “How would you know?”
Penelope snapped her book shut irritably. “Youdorealize we’ve lived together for a little bit now, right?”
“Touche,” he murmured as a plate of food was set in front of him. “I have some news.”
Penelope raised a brow. “What sort of news?”
“The good kind.”
“Then, let’s hear it.” Penelope hid her smile behind her cup. It felt normal, suddenly. She wanted to bask in it before he clamped up and disappeared from her again.
George cleared his throat. “It’s the stud farm.”
“Oh?”
“After all this time,” he said. “It’s finally complete.”
Penelope frowned. “Complete?”
“Yes,” he replied. “Ready for use. I spoke to your friend at the racetrack, and arranged for some native stallions to arrive in a few weeks. Vaun will be the first, of course, once we’ve secured enough mares.”
Penelope couldn’t stop herself from feeling despair at the table. He seemed happy, despite his calm, steady voice. There was nothing unpleasant about the news, besides the fact that it meant the deal was quickly coming to a close. All that George needed was an in to London’s racetracks, and he got it through correspondence with Mr. Fitzburgh, Penelope’s dear friend.
What purpose would Penelope have now?
“You seem,” George began, his brow furrowed, “Disappointed.”
Penelope shook her head. “Nowhere near disappointed, George.”
“Say something, then.”
She stared down at her plate, unable to find the right words. There was too much that she wished to say, too much that lay between them. In the end, there would never be enough time for all of it. Besides, she was happy, even if it was hidden beneath the waves of sadness that threatened to wash over her. She was.
Lifting her head, Penelope stretched her lips into the widest smile she could manage.
“I am incredibly proud of you, George.”
He grew stiff at the end of the table, eyes wide and bright. He remained like that for a minute or two, unblinking. When Penelope began to grow worried, George suddenly stood from the table, knocking the silverware and plates around. Despite his plate being full, George bowed his head down to her respectfully.
“If you’ll excuse me, Penelope.”
