Page 85 of His Wild Duchess
“Pretty recently, I’d say. Everyone’s looking healthy and happy so far,” Mrs. Busch explained, “But I would like to arrange consistent visits for the rest of the year. This steed was a racehorse, and I want to make sure she is well cared for, as well as the foal.”
George was stuck in place, focused in on Fiona. “Pregnant,” he repeated in a murmur, the horse’s warm gaze holding onto him. “It must’ve been Vaun. He was the only stallion around.”
“The American breed you told me about?” Mr. Busch asked before letting out a whistle. “That’ll be a mighty fine foal, your Grace.”
“Penelope,” he murmured, the horse snorting at the sound of her owner’s name. He turned, his gaze landing heavily on Fred. Behind him, Winnie was coming down the hill, hoisting up her skirts to see what all the commotion was for. “Do you know how happy she’d be to hear such news?”
“That,”Winnie suddenly exclaimed, rounding around her husband and the vet, “Is it, George Houston!”
Fred reached for his wife. “Winnie -”
“No, no,” she snapped, sliding around her husband’s outstretched arm. “Pardon my interruption, doc, butyou,” her finger thrusted towards George, “are gonna listen to me, and you’re gonna listen to me real good!”
George, slightly taken aback by the petite woman’s stamina, remained silent.
“I just about had it up to here,” her arm shot in the air, “With you and Penny ignorin’ whats really goin’ on between you two!”
“Winnie,” he muttered, “There isn’t anything -”
“Whaddya take me for, Georgie? I ain’t quiet, but that don’t mean I ain’t privy to the world around me, you hear?”
He looked away. What more could she say to rewrite what had happened? Neither one of them had said a word to each other, and George felt that it was incredibly final. Penelope had no intentions of remaining there alongside him, so why would he try to force her? He avoided meeting Winnie’s persistent stare, only trying to search for an argument but coming up empty handed.
“You can go on and on ‘bout how your marriage ain’t nothin’ but a plot, ain’t nothin’ but a phony deal,” Winnie snapped, “But Freddie and I, we ain’t blind, Georgie! You love that girl, and you just let her walk right outta your life, as if she wasn’t even there in the first place.”
George glanced at Fred, but his friend wouldn’t dare try to come to his aid.
“Better yet,” Winnie continued, “Darlin’ Pen is just as much in love with you, but youchoseto ignore it! Whatever for, Georgie? Why fight the happiness that has been laid out for you?”
“She doesn’t,” he paused, looking away. “She never once said -”
Winnie threw her hands in the air. “Did you really think true love wasthateasy? As simple as a walk in the park? Signing a paper and wearin’ a ring? Spellin’ out what it is you truly mean?” She took a step to close the distance between them, her voice becoming soft. “Georgie, you ain’t ever gonna know that girls true heart if you don’t give yours over first. You know that, don’ you?”
George watched his friends face. “I…I am a fool.”
“There you go,” Winnie said, clapping him the shoulder.
For the first time since Penelope left, George felt a fire be lit beneath his feet. Winnifred was right, even if he didn’t much care to admit it. How could he wallow and moan about how she left without a word when he never once made an effort to admit how he felt? How could Penelope had ever known?
Suddenly, he felt as though there was nothing left for him to lose. There was no point in continuing on in the stud farm, when it had all come to life because of Penelope and Penelope alone.There was no point in any of it. George grasped onto a saddle, hoisting it over Fiona’s back gently. Within a few minutes, he was riding upon the steed, racing out of the city, following in the path Penelope had once left him on.
There was one thing on his mind, one thing that he was entirely sure of.
George was in love with Penelope, and he had no intentions of letting her go.
CHAPTER 26
For as long as Penelope could remember, she had believed in her ability to live alone. There was something within her, a wild free spirit, that had called her to a life with no one other than herself. Ever since childhood, she’d found more than enough to entertain her without the intrusionof another. Books provided friendships that would last lifetimes. Trees lived for longer than she could ever imagine, and would always be around to accompany her. And the animals, who would not be around forever, made her feel the same as any parent would. What more could she possibly dare to ask for?
Suddenly, as if Penelope was no longer the same girl she once was, she found her spirit longing for another to be by her side. Not just anyone, exactly, but one in particular. One with broad shoulders, chestnut colored eyes, and a grin that could make an entire crowd part like the Red Sea. One who had been there every morning for the past few weeks, who drove her mad with sarcasm and persistent teasing. One who loved the dogs as much as she did. One who held the same affinity for horses.
Each morning Penelope woke in the cottage, sunlight peering in through the window, she was met with only despair. Her hand would reach to the opposite side of the bed, without even thinking, as though there was someone meant to be there. Every time, it was empty and cold. She’d lay there longer than she should’ve, feeling as though the weight of her sadness pressed her down further into the sheets. The dogs climbed over her, eager to begin their day out in the sunshine.
“Good morning,” she murmured to the animals, half expecting them to respond but finding only licks and heavy breaths fanning over her face, a tail smacking against her every now and then.
“What shall we do today?” she would ask them each morning, dragging her hands between their ears, trying to stop the sadness from enroaching upon her. “Wallow, or wallow even more?”
Despite only making a joke, the comment felt more real than she realized, and it only drove her into despair even further.
