His Wild Duchess (Fate & Circumstance #2)

Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

A s Penelope settled into her seat, Titus and Brutus clambered past the Duke, following behind Penelope. She watched as the Duke made a face, lips pressed together tightly as he entered the carriage last. He rapped his knuckles against the compartment wall, and the carriage began to roll away from the church and further into London’s city. Penelope glanced at the forbidding walls that already rose around them, craving her familiar trees and fields.

This time, Brutus rested his head on Penelope’s lap. Titus took the watch, sitting in the corner beside Penelope, his dark gaze never once leaving the Duke. Brutus was quickly snoring as she rubbed his head, running her fingertips along the base of his neck in a massaging manner. Silence overtook the compartment. Penelope reveled in the fact that the ride wouldn’t be too long.

“Are these the dogs you spoke of?”

Penelope looked up at the Duke, lifting her shoulders. “Some of them.”

The Duke leaned forward. “Some?”

“The rest have already been delivered to the townhouse, along with the rest of my things, of course.”

He sighed, annoyance flaring in his words. “I thought I told you that I would arrange everything.”

“Well, that took far too long, your Grace,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders at him. “The animals cannot go days without me, and your way of doing things would have led to just that.” Penelope looked away, reaching to run her other hand along Titus’s snout. “Now, there’s no need to worry about anything.”

“How many are there?”

A devious smile spread across her lips. “Don’t worry, your Grace. You’ll see soon enough.”

If he had been genuinely bothered by her, the Duke worked well not to show it. He leaned back in his seat quite casually, leaning his chin against his hand. A flash of jealousy sparked in Penelopy. While she was long and lanky, at home only on horseback, the Duke seemed to have the annoying knack of looking rather handsome in any place. Penelope shook her head, ignoring the childish thought.

“It seems to me as if you added a few more beasts to your collections just for the pleasure of annoying me.”

Penelope’s eyes snapped back to him, the previous thoughts about his appearance evaporating from her mind. “I must say I don’t appreciate that sort of talk.”

“What on earth do you mean?”

“I would never be so cavalier about my companions, your Grace. They mean more to me than you could ever imagine.”

The Duke tilted his head, a mischievous smirk crawling across his face. “Tell me, your Grace, are the dogs trained, or are they much like their mistress?”

“They are mine in every way,” Penelope stated, her voice firm and resounding, catching the attention of the hounds. They both lifted their heads simultaneously, turning to look up at her. “In whatever way they might act, they were guided by me. Take it as you will.”

“It seems to me that you are as wild as the creatures you champion.”

Penelope gaped, her heart racing beneath her chest. “You, your grace, are not -”

“It is remarkable.”

She froze beneath his stare.

The Duke leaned back into his seat, fingers resting just below his chin. He narrowed his eyes at her with a blaring intensity. “How the dogs react to you.”

Penelope glanced down to see the hounds watching her.

“And I quite like it.” The Duke smirked. “Your wildness. It’s refreshing to see it here, where all are suffocated under the thumb of aristocrats. Here, I thought all women of the Ton were prim and proper.” His eyes trailed over her face. “You keep managing to catch me by surprise. I’m not exactly used to it.”

Her chest grew tight beneath his gaze. Unable to stop the rush of heat that swarmed to her cheeks, Penelope turned away, staring intently out the window. “I am not an attraction that is to be gawked at, your Grace.”

“On the contrary,” the Duke said, giving her a taunting smile. “I find I rather enjoy gawking at that blush of yours.”

Penelope snapped her gaze back to him.“You are a des -”

The carriage smoothly rolled to a stop.

“Best consider holding your tongue,” the Duke teased, pulling the curtain back from the window. “We have arrived.”

As the Duke opened the door, Penelope remained there, shutting her eyes to take a deep breath. Everything within her shuddered, and the adrenaline mixed with nervous energy turned her legs into a trembling mess. She repeated the only thing that made her steady again.

Only two months, and then, Penelope would be free. Tied to the Duke in name, perhaps, but free in truth.

The Duke’s townhouse was in the center of a bustling and busy community. Shops were not far away at all, and the theater was even closer. A few other townhouses neighbored the one they were going to be staying at, drawing even more people to the area. The carriage stopped in front of a pastel green house, the lawn neatly trimmed and bright with summer blossoms. A beautiful tree stood before the townhouse, the sun casting a delicate shadow across the building.

The Duke left the carriage first, extending a hand for Penelope next. Following him out, Penelope flinched at the chatter around them. Members of aristocratic society walked beside the streets, arm-in-arm with each other, chattering and mingling. Eyes slowly came their way as the hounds left the carriage, both of them looking around the yard curiously.

“Perhaps,” the Duke said, catching on to the eyes that lingered nearby, “We should carry on inside.”

Penelope recognized the look on his face very well. It was the same way everyone else in her family reacted when it came to the dogs. No matter how much they enjoyed animals or just dogs, there would always be a stigma around them. Society viewed them as unfavorable, an odd companion to give to a woman. And in the Duke’s predicament, he only needed things that society deemed acceptable.

Penelope steered the hounds towards the door, following the nervous footman. Despite not agreeing with it, she knew that her ticket to independence lay in the Duke’s achieving his goal to his satisfaction. Penelope figured the cottage would no longer be included in their deal if he didn't gather enough societal support through the marriage.

The footman paused at the door, inching away from the hounds.

“What’re you doing?” the Duke called out impatiently. “For heaven’s sake, let us inside.”

“O-Of course, your Grace, I-I just thought I’d warn you about…” the footman trailed off, sidestepping to avoid being sniffed. “All the creatures inside.”

The Duke stepped forward, moving around Penelope to look her in the face. “ All the creatures inside?”

Without waiting for the footman, the Duke ripped open the front door.

Chaos exploded out from the townhouse’s foyer. Howls and barks echoed off the walls, the clattering of paws against the tile floor sounding like angelic music to Penelope’s ears. Armed with leashes and collars, the townhouse staff tried to wrangle the animals. Above it all, where the staircase began, sat a striped tabby cat, tail flicking menacingly against the ground.

Penelope breathed in deeply. “Home.”

“What the blazes!” The Duke ran into the house, trying to catch the attention of the staff. No one could pay him mind; they were all too focused on the problem in front of them. The dogs chased each other, slipping beneath tables and almost knocking portraits off the wall. A few of them even turned to the clueless staff, their hindquarters high in the air as they tried to instigate play.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Penelope called out to him, laughing as Brutus and Titus ran to join in the fray. Despite being the eldest out of all the dogs, they never failed to play with the younger animals, jumping and chasing as if they were puppies again.

“H-How many are there?” the Duke shouted.

“Six!”

The Duke turned to her, aghast. “Won’t you do something about this?”

Penelope laughed again, taking in another moment of the fun before it had to all go away. Putting her fingers up to her lips, Penelope sharply exhaled and released a high-pitched whistle into the air. Almost simultaneously, the dogs paused in their play, all turning their attention towards Penelope. Even the cat, who sat quietly on the stairs, turned its ears to her.

As they sat, the staff collectively breathed a sigh of relief, returning fallen possessions to their proper places. Penelope walked further into the townhouse, greeting the animals one by one. Afterward, she spun around on her heel and gave the Duke a mocking curtsey.

“Satisfied, your Grace?”

He crossed his arms. “Not even close.”

Penelope quickly ignored him, and turned her attention to the staff that lingered nearby. “My apologies for the chaos my companions caused,” she said, giving them a smile. “They are gentle creatures and began their lives as strays. New people bring them joy, and all they wanted to do was play.”

The staff collectively looked around, eyeing the animals warily.

“The wolfhounds, Titus and Brutus,” she walked to them, patting their heads, “are the eldest and calmest.” Penelope then turned to a large dog whose black coat shone beneath the light. “This is Antony, a mastiff. He is quite large and equally protective.” After she pressed a kiss to his snout, Penelope crouched down to the smaller creatures. “And these are the foxhound siblings, Priory and Pat. They were abused at a young age and used as hunting dogs in a despicable way that I will not repeat here.”

The foxhounds nuzzled their dark snouts into Penelope’s hair, pulling a laugh out of her.

“And we mustn’t forget the spaniel, Ali.” With long fur and matching long ears, the spaniel was the smallest and most regal out of the dogs. Penelope rubbed a thumb beneath the dog’s ear before turning to the single feline. “Lastly, there is the striped tabby cat, Butternut. She is quite a solitary creature but occasionally enjoys some company.”

Penelope stood, facing the staff once more. “Now that’s out of the way, my name is Penelope. It is a pleasure to meet you all.”

“Your Grace,” one woman said, stepping out from the rest of the staff, “I am Mrs. Howard, the housekeeper. I have already sent word to Yeats for a lady’s maid, and she will arrive within the week.”

“How kind,” Penelope said, though the idea didn’t appeal to her at all.

The Duke stepped forward, his eyes stern and fixed on Penelope. “Leave us, please,” he told the staff over his shoulder.

One by one, the staff filed out of the foyer with their heads down. Penelope watched after them, her confidence slowly waning. Once the last trickled out, she turned, about to face the Duke.

He already walked towards her, arms folded neatly behind his back. She backed away slightly, almost backing her into a corner. “Despite the fact that you did not lie,” he began, his voice low, “I am very well aware that you have managed to trick me.”

Penelope gulped. “Well, your Grace, I -”

“This time,” he interrupted, one brow raising, “I will let you have the satisfaction of surprising me.”

She tilted her head. “This time?”

“You have scored a point, my wife, but don’t push it.”

Penelope snapped her gaze away, flustered beneath his pointed stare.

“I expect no more surprises from now on.”

She kept her eyes fixed on the animals.

“Are we understood?”

Penelope looked back at his steely stare. “Yes, your Grace.”

The Duke straightened out his coat as he stepped away, seemingly satisfied but obviously frustrated. “I need to attend to some things in my study,” he said. “Can I trust you to look for Mrs. Howard for anything you need?”

Penelope nodded silently.

“I expect to see you at dinner.”

“Alright, your Grace.”

The Duke glanced between the animals and her one more time before bowing his head and leaving the foyer. The dogs relaxed in the center of the room, beginning to wind down from all the excitement. Penelope slowly waded through them, crouching down at the center to rub their warm bellies.

Not too long after, shoes clicked through the halls as someone made their way up to her. “If you don’t mind me asking, your Grace,” Mrs. Howard began once she was within a good distance of the dogs, “but where did you plan on keeping all of your…animal companions?”

“Well, I had assumed they’d stay with me. In my room.”

Mrs. Howard raised a slender brow, her nostrils flaring. “Indeed,” she said. “If that is what you wish, we may see it done.”

“Do not worry, I can look after them myself.” Penelope smiled as the animals slowly crept around her. “I prefer it that way, honestly. They are my family, and I will see to it that their needs are well kept.”

Mrs. Howard frowned. “But you are the Duchess, now.”

“I do not see why that must change things.”

The housekeeper looked taken aback but didn’t pry any further. With a permanently raised and judgemental brow, Mrs. Howard extended a hand up the stairs. “Won’t you follow me, your Grace? I will show you through the townhouse and to your quarters.”

Penelope nodded, following close behind. All six dogs trotted alongside them, the cat remaining at a healthy distance. They never once strayed from Penelope’s heel. Pride filled her chest as they walked through the townhouse. With every new room they passed, some staff lingering within, they all eyed the animals suspiciously, fear laced in their eyes.

Every time, not a single dog showed a hint of violence. They remained loyal and obedient, not once turning away from Penelope. She let her fingers graze the tops of their heads, feeling comfort wash over her.

“And here, your Grace, would be your bedroom.”

Behind wooden doors was a decently sized bedroom with a secondary room attached to it. The secondary room held the oversized tub, as well as closet space and shoes. A wardrobe sat in the main bedroom beside a luxuriously large bed. A round rug was at the center of the room, surrounded by bookshelves and a quaint desk. Penelope’s spirits lifted. Despite the marriage and its consequences, this was a lovely room, and she had it all to herself.

One by one, the dogs slowly trickled into the room. Butternut, the tabby cat, sprinted past them, leaping onto a windowsill. Titus and Brutus walked together before slowly sinking into the rug, both releasing a deep breath before falling into a heavy sleep. Priory remained close to Penelope’s legs. She was a small, nervous thing and found it hard to acclimate to new places quickly, like the rest of the pack. Penelope scratched the dog’s chin reassuringly.

“Thank you very much, Mrs. Howard. It is a beautiful room.”

Mrs. Howard nodded, awkwardly glancing around at the dogs. “I will retrieve you once dinner is served.” And on that note, she turned on her heel and left, shutting the door behind her.

Penelope crossed the room and fell into the bed. The dogs quickly followed, each of them burying themselves in a different way around her. They brought a heavy pressure onto her chest, like a tight hug. Even though they couldn’t speak, Penelope let her eyes close and imagined that she could hear their voices talking together in the back of her mind.

We are here, Penelope. Don’t worry.

We are here.

Only one of the dogs followed Penelope that evening as Mrs. Howard led her to the dining room. It was Antony, the black mastiff. For reasons she could not place, the dog clung relatively close to her when the housekeeper arrived to escort her. The other animals were far too tired to offer anything other than a quiet bark when there was a knock at the door.

Antony remained as close as possible.

Mrs. Howard led her to a vast room dimly lit by warm candlelight. The Duke was already inside, staring out one of the windows absentmindedly.

“Your Grace,” Mrs. Howard announced to him, “the Duchess.”

Penelope entered as the housekeeper left. Dressed in a simple white dress, she twirled a finger around her hair, nervous anticipation for the evening sending goosebumps up and down her bare arms. The Duke bowed to her before crossing the room, pulling back a seat at the table for her.

“Good evening,” Penelope said as she went to take her seat.

“Evening,” he replied into her ear while pushing the chair in. “You look lovely, despite the barn your bedroom appears to be.”

Penelope raised a brow as he sat across from her. “Now it’s a barn?”

“You have enough dogs in there to sled across the snow,” the Duke teased. “And a single cat to order them around. Sounds like a barn to me.”

Looking down at her food, Penelope buried her irritation. Sure, the Duke could come off as charming, but at the same time, he seemed rather pleased to get himself beneath her skin. All she needed to do was handle it for two months. Handle the judgemental staff. Handle the housekeeper, who would probably always be displeased. Every second would be one step closer to the cottage, to her dream.

“I thought it wise for us to discuss the arrangements of our deal,” the Duke said after the wine was poured.

Penelope looked up, suddenly nervous. “What else was there to discuss?”

“Ah, look at you,” the Duke cooed. “Playing coy to slip by unnoticed and get that cottage in no time. Is that the game you played?”

“There’s no game, your Grace. You knew that was my goal from the start.”

“Well, yes, but did you just assume you’d get there without doing any work?”

Penelope’s eyes widened, but she kept up a strong front, not wanting the Duke to sense any nerves. “Is that what they preach in the colonies? Work your women, and they’ll get what they deserve?”

He laughed loudly. “You Londoners,” he spat, giving her an eye roll. “Every last one of you has the exact opposite idea of what the New World is truly about.”

Fighting the urge to ask him more about the colonies, Penelope crossed her arms at the table. “All I’m saying is that I don’t remember that being a part of our agreement.”

The Duke chuckled, swallowing a large bite of food. “You haven’t even heard what it is yet. Aren’t you at all curious?”

Penelope looked away, unable to find the right words.

“That’s what I thought,” he teased. “Do you happen to know a high society woman by the name of Lady Tollock?”

“Of course,” she replied with a shrug. “Lady Tollock holds the largest ball every season at the Benedict House.”

“My, my,” the Duke mused, leaning back in his seat. “The woman does know about London society!”

Penelope rolled her eyes. “I do read the papers, your Grace. Every Londoner knows of Lady Tollock, with or without attending the Season’s events.”

The Duke laughed to himself. “One of her balls is coming up soon. As well as a few others that are almost as prominent.”

“What’s it to you?”

“Darling, it’s the entire reason we got married.”

Penelope bristled at the pet name. Even Antony, who rested quietly at her feet, perked up at it, head tilted in a curious way. She lowered her fork, a blush creeping across her face as she met his playful stare.

“Isn’t being married…enough?”

“How on earth could it possibly be enough?” the Duke exclaimed. “Sure, our nuptials were announced in the papers, heralded across the streets as another exciting betrothal for a Caney child. But what does that prove? How has my image changed in society, other than being attached to the… dubious… Caney family?”

Penelope stared at him with slightly parted lips. “You should know, your Grace, that I am not like the other women of the Ton.”

“Oh,” he whispered, “I’m well aware.”

“I do not do well around other people.”

“Well, I never said you had to be.”

Penelope blinked. “I don’t understand.”

“Be whatever it is you want to be, your Grace, as long as it makes me look more like an aristocratic gentleman.” The Duke leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands. “In the simplest of terms, all you need to do is look pretty and act like you’re in love.”

A surprised laugh burst out from between Penelope’s lips. She raised her hand, covering her mouth sheepishly as a blush burnt across her nose. It irked her to know how quickly her body reacted to what the Duke said. If she had it her way, he’d never be able to guess any of her thoughts, never use it to try and charm her.

“You overestimate my abilities, your Grace,” Penelope said. “I fear I can do neither of those things as well as you might wish.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Surely, you cannot deny your own appeal.”

Penelope’s lips parted, and the blush intensified. She turned away, her chin brushing her shoulder as she raised her palm, trying to mask the strawberry-colored blush that swallowed her face. Her eyes searched the room, looking for something that she could say, but nothing could coherently form in her brain. There was only the man across the table, who wielded a brashness so carelessly it racked her with nervous adrenaline.

“Can’t you play the part for an afternoon or two?” he asked, giving her a soft look.

Penelope blinked, forcing him out of her head. “I-I believe you are trying to manipulate me, your Grace, with charm and pretty words.”

The Duke scoffed. “I am hardly manipulating you; I am politely requesting that you live up to your end of the bargain.”

“This was never agreed upon!” Penelope snapped back at him, no longer willing to contain her irritation. “You have played with me long enough. When I shook your hand, I never once said that I would be your partner in your schemes. I agreed to wed you so that the marriage might soften your name to society. That is all!”

The Duke seemed equally fed up with the pleasantries and teasing arguments. His nostrils flared, eyebrows becoming rigid and angry. “You’re one to complain about things left unsaid! Wasn’t it you who failed to mention the amount of beasts you brought into my home?”

Penelope leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms across her chest as the mastiff at her feet began to rise to the occasion. “It isn’t my fault you neglected to ask.”

Smacking his open palm against the table, jingling all the cutlery and fine china, the Duke stared at his plate, his voice loud and sneering. “I thought there was no need,” he snapped before looking up at her. “Because no sane human would have six dogs!”

Rising from her seat, Penelope shook with irritation. “I do not take it kindly that you have twice referred to me as something unkempt and wild within our short time of knowing each other, your Grace.”

“I’m surprised it hasn’t been more!”

“How dare you?” Penelope snapped, pushing her chair back. “Have you no respect?”

“I’m sorry, darling, they forgot to teach that in the colonies.”

Penelope groaned, reaching up to drag an exasperated hand across her face. “So, before you were livid at the idea of Londoners not truly understanding the New World, and yet, you act exactly how we expect!”

The Duke coldly met her gaze. “Enlighten me. What exactly do you expect?”

“A rambunctious rake,” she spat. “A man without the capabilities of treating another person equally. Childish, immature, foolish -”

Suddenly, the sound of a chair scraping against the ground screeched through the room. The Duke moved quickly, his long legs getting him across the room in just a few strides. He stood before Penelope in a flash, a dark shadow passing over his face. At the same moment, Antony the mastiff appeared at Penelope’s side, looking up at the Duke with a low growl. Penelope placed her hand on the dog’s head to quiet him.

“I’d refrain from listing more insults,” the Duke said.

“Or what?”

The Duke stepped even closer, ignoring the mastiff. His eyes flickered to her lips. “I have tamed wilder things than you, darling.”

Without another word, the Duke stormed past her, ripping open the dining room door, and disappeared into the dark hallway. Penelope stepped backward, falling into her seat. Her heart rapped against her chest at the Duke’s words, heat rushing beneath her skin at his boldness. Antony lifted his heavy head with a low bark and placed it on her lap, looking up at her with a wrinkled face. She leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Antony’s brow.

Before Penelope could do anything else, the mastiff pulled himself off her lap and trotted out of the room, following in the direction of the Duke. She breathed a sigh, placing an unsteady hand over her heart.

“Two months,” she whispered. “Two months.”