Page 16 of The Duchess' Ultimatum
It might not have been the most elegant solution to her problems, but it was the only one she had.
“You are being serious…” The duke slowly found calm, his green eyes searching her for the lie and finding none.
“Deadly serious,” she responded.
“But you hate me.”
“I told you, I don’t.”
“Well… you should,” he said as if that thought annoyed him. “I abandoned you. I left you alone. I… I… I deserve for you to hate me.”
“Is that what you want?”
Where Penelope knew that she had changed much these past three years, she was not surprised to find that the man she married and had known for such a short time had not.
He was still the same hulking specimen who she had seen that first day standing at the end of the aisle waiting for her. Tall in stature, thick in limbs, dark hair, severe features that were sharp and a little too perfect, a brooding quality that he carried like a weight around his neck. But it was his eyes that she focused on, finding the same sadness hidden in them.
In three years she had soothed her own anger and calmed her own fears, yet he was still struggling with whatever it was that had brought him here in the first place. What that was? She couldn’t even guess.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I suppose I just assumed as much.”
“Would you blame me?” she chuckled.
“Not even a little bit,” he said, exhaling sharply. “As I said, I expected it.”
She exhaled too, doing her best to keep the situation relaxed. “I don’t wish to talk about what you did or why you did it. The truth is, I don’t care.” That was a half-truth at best, but it was needed for now. “I am not here to judge you, to make you pay, or any of that. What I want is what I believe you owe me. That is all.”
“In exchange for helping me to organize this party?”
“If that is what it takes.”
He chuckled bitterly. “She said this party wouldn’t be worth the trouble.”
“Who said?”
He waved her down. “It doesn’t matter who. You are right, however. I am hosting a house party in the coming weeks. And it is turning into a nightmare of epic proportions.”
“Sounds as if you need my help.”
He did not respond immediately.
For the first time, Dorian appeared to understand her offer, just as he became willing to consider it. His heavy brow furrowed once more and he studied her closely, his mind at work as he put pieces together beyond her understanding.
He is going to say yes. I can feel it. Although why do I suddenly feel as if this is a bad idea…
“I will make you a deal,” he said finally. “You will help me organize this party –helpbeing the operative word. It is my event, and it will be done my way. Assuming that you do as I ask, and to my satisfaction, then I will give you what you have come for.”
“A child,” she said.
“Yes…” He held her stare, his expression serious and daring. “A child.”
Penelope allowed herself to exhale with relief. This had always been a huge gamble, and there had been no telling what the duke would do or say. That he agreed, that she was getting what she wanted… she felt excitement rise inside of her, the emptiness of her life abating slightly.
Would I call that feeling happiness? The sense of purpose I need so badly? Possibly, although it is too early to say.
“Thank you,” she said, meaning it. “Am I to assume we start right away? I have brought my things, because clearly I will need to stay here throughout the course of the following week. If you might show me to my room, and have the staff unpack my carriage. That would be lovely.”
“You have come prepared.” Dorian frowned again, as if this news troubled him. “And thought quite a bit about this, it seems.”
