Page 7 of His Wild Duchess
The Duke’s lips parted in surprise. He searched her face for a moment, his brown eyes lingering far too long on her own before a smile began to grow. “You speak like a businessman.”
“Why, you - !” A rush of heat swarmed Penelope’s face.
“Calm yourself, Lady Penelope,” he said. “I only meant it as a compliment. It’s right to the point, and I like that.”
A different kind of warmth befell her. Penelope stammered, surprised as to how close he suddenly was. Her height allowed her to feel some sort of self-confidence around other people, but it was strangely different next to the Duke. He towered over her, casting a dark shadow. Penelope fought a surge of anxiety it all brought.
“I have plans to open a stud farm,” the Duke explained. “If everything goes well, it’ll be finished in two months.” An amusedsmirk spread across his lips. “Does that schedule suit you well, Lady Penelope?”
Despite the urge not to look him directly in the eye, Penelope found herself unable to pull away. The intensity was too alluring, and her shock almost left her frozen. But there was one thing on her mind that kept her focused, kept her grounded in the moment. Two months sounded like nothing, barely even time to sacrifice if it meant the future she had always dreamed of.
Penelope held his stare and nodded. “Yes, your Grace, it does.”
The Duke extended his hand towards her.
Reaching, Penelope took his warm hand into her own.
A shiver unexpectedly ran up her spine. She never would’ve realized how cold her palm was until she held his own, the warmth radiating below her skin. She was unsure if the butterflies that danced in her stomach were from the Duke’s skin against her own or the approaching fear that everything in her life was going to be flipped upside down.
The smirk he wore spread into something mischievous.
“It’s a bargain, then.”
CHAPTER 3
The ride to the church was too short for Penelope’s comfort. They entered London from Egerton Manor, which was located in the country. It was a good few hours before the carriage entered the city, but for her, it was nowhere near long enough time.
Across from her, Owen rested his eyes. That was what he always said when he planned on falling asleep. Sure enough, with his head resting behind him, soft and level breathing came from his nose, lips slightly parted. Penelope wasn’t surprised that the carriage ride quickly rocked him to sleep. Undoubtedly, he lacked sufficient rest, spending most nights stressing more about the coming months.
At least, in Penelope’s case, she hoped he could rest assured that one probably was being dealt with.
Her oldest and largest dog, Titus, rested his long head on her lap. His long, dark coat stood out against her baby blue dress, and his brown eyes looked up to stare lovingly at her. Penelope smiled,rubbing her thumb along the top of his head, behind his ears, and down the length of his back. Titus grumbled against her in pleasure.
Another animal huffed from the floor.
“Apologies, Brutus,” she whispered, leaning forward to give the same attention to the other wolfhound that rested against the carriage floor. “Can’t forget about you.”
They were the first dogs she ever rescued. One of the only fond memories she could conjure up about her father concerned Titus and Brutus. Without her father’s compassion, the animals would have remained strays, left out in the cold streets of London. Penelope knew that any other father would have pulled their daughter away from such beasts, and for that, she was grateful.
Now, Titus and Brutus were her old companions, who walked slowly but never failed to remain loyal. Their constant presence kept Penelope sane, and it was precisely why she insisted on them attending the wedding as well.
Owen mumbled in his sleep.
“What was that?” she whispered.
“Your big dog,” he muttered, blinking awake, “is on my foot.”
Stifling a laugh, Penelope reached to tap Brutus’s rump. The hound huffed before shifting over, resting himself against her legs. “He only wanted to keep you warm, brother.”
“Very funny.” Owen stretched, straightening out his coat before peering out the window. “I just can’t believe we had to send Mother in a separate carriage.”
“Are you still upset about that?”
“She’s our aged mother, Penny,” Owen snapped. “Not only that, but she does still happen to be Lady Egerton. Have you forgotten everything your governess taught you?”
Penelope sighed. “That was ages ago, Owen.”
“It’s time to try and remember.” He leaned against the seat, taking in a deep breath. “I had hoped Mother would be the one to expose this information to you. But, alas,” Owen paused, obviously irritated as he gestured to the animals, “the hounds needed to be here instead.”
