Chapter 2 #2
“Yes, that is because I am serious. How could I not be, when I aim to choose someone who will be by my side until the end of my life?”
His words caused a strange twinge within Penelope’s chest, and to her utter dismay, she found herself wondering if she had perhaps been mistaken.
Maybe… she was wrong, and Cecil’s values did align with Jane’s. Maybe Cecil was out to find love as well.
Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, Penelope turned around, as she mumbled, loud enough for them to hear,
“Well then, good luck with that.”
“How kind of you to say —”
“I said it on behalf of the poor woman who will be unfortunate enough to marry you!” she shot over her shoulder, glancing at her brother sweetly as she said, “Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, brother dear.”
Lionel waved while Cecil scowled, and she felt a rush of satisfaction fill her as she slipped out of the room.
In the hallway, she paused, hoping to God that she really had been wrong and there was nothing to worry about.
It seemed that no matter how much Penelope tried, she could not seem to shake off her ability and the ever-growing need to worry about Cecil and Jane.
In the single day it had been since Cecil had begun his temporary stay at the Bellcourt residence, Penelope had found her thoughts disconcertingly preoccupied by the irritating Duke.
In his absence, she wondered if he had gone to call on Jane, wondering what tricks he might use to seduce her dear, kind friend, and feared that they might work.
And when he was around, it was all she could do to keep herself from grabbing him by the lapels of his coat and demanding his intentions with Jane.
Now, it seemed they had all been invited to the same ball, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Jane and Cecil as they danced.
Cecil had always claimed the attention of women with a single glance. And now that he was a Duke, ladies were constantly whispering about him, fluttering their eyelashes in hopes he would glance in their direction.
But tonight, he only had eyes for Jane, asking her to dance as soon as they were comfortably situated. And from where Penelope stood, Jane appeared to be thoroughly content with the conversation they were having, the light flush across her cheeks undoubtedly a reaction to their proximity.
A man stepped in Penelope’s line of sight, and she fought the urge to scowl instantly, craning her neck so she could see Jane and Cecil properly once more.
“Pardon me, Miss, I couldn’t help but notice that you were —”
“Preoccupied. Very much so,” she said curtly without sparing him a glance.
The man frowned in confusion. “Are you really? Because it seems to me that you are simply standing and watching the dance floor with rapt attention. If you wish, we could —”
“I do not. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”
“But you have not even heard my request!”
Penelope sighed, finally averting her gaze from the dance floor to the sweating man before her, a long-suffering sigh escaping her lips.
“And what is it you want?” she asked, ensuring that her irritation was clearly audible in her voice.
“To dance. With you, of course.” He nodded, looking pleased with himself as he stood straighter.
Penelope widened her eyes and gasped.
“Oh goodness. I did not expect that at all. Well… I am truly flattered sir, but I am afraid I will have to refuse. I hurt my ankle a few days ago and dancing is absolutely out of the question – physician’s orders. Do enjoy the rest of your evening,” she told him coldly.
He stared at her, doubt clearly etched on his features, so she leaned most of her weight on one foot, lightly tapping the toes of the other against the floor.
“Oh, that still aches. My goodness,” she whined in mock pain, her voice as empty and hollow as it had been earlier.
It was obvious he could not have his way, and he turned red in the face, visibly upset to have had his request dismissed so dramatically.
She waved him away, smiling with satisfaction as he finally left her be, grumbling under his breath.
Penelope cast her gaze back to the dance floor just as the couples came to a stop and the pair she’d had her eyes on stopped and bowed to each other.
Cecil escorted Jane off the dance floor, whispering something to her before he slipped away, leaving her to make her way to Penelope.
“You look rather pleased with yourself,” Penelope remarked casually.
“I am,” Jane nodded. “He is quite delightful company to keep. He has a teasing nature — which I know has caused many fights between you both — but I think it is charming. And he has a rather gentle side to him.”
At Jane’s wistful sigh, Penelope queried, “Does it not bother you that he is a rake? Do not pretend that you are unaware of his frivolous hobbies. Everyone here knows. And there is no denying that he is not an ideal person to entrust with your heart.”
“You do not know that for sure, Penelope. And rakes make the best husbands!” Jane retorted, folding her arms.
Penelope did not need to inquire about the origins of such a statement because she knew Jane had heard someone say it. Just as Penelope had several times as well, and was still greatly disturbed by the number of women who believed such a saying to be true.
Regardless, Penelope was not convinced. With all Jane had said, she barely expressed any fondness for the duke. She did not even look happy to be with him, just… desperate.
Jane was simply desperate for a love match, and Penelope had no intention of allowing Cecil to play with her friend’s heart.
With that in mind, Penelope excused herself, claiming she intended to find herself something to drink. Jane reached out to her, no doubt to direct her to where the refreshments had been set up, but Penelope ignored her and headed in the other direction, where she had seen Cecil go.
She did not have a plan, but she was quite motivated and fully intended to ensure that Cecil would not hurt Jane in any way.
As Penelope approached the veranda, words reached her ears, and she recognized the voices that were speaking.
“… quite content. And Miss Fenwell is a lovely young lady,” Lionel stated.
“If you say so,” Cecil concurred vaguely, sounding as though he would rather not have the conversation.
“Do you believe otherwise? You seemed content during your interactions with her, so I thought that perhaps you might find her suitable. I have known her for quite some time, due to her relationship with my sister and Miss Jane does appear to be a bright and kind person. You might not be searching for a relationship deeper than surface appearances, but I find that she has other qualities that might suit your tastes,” Lionel pointed out, his tone implying that he merely stated what he had observed.
Cecil huffed, his tone bored as he said, “I cannot wholly agree with you, as she does not stir my interest in the slightest. Perhaps you are right and she is satisfactory and she will make a useful match for me. Although this is the last thing I want — to be tied down so soon, just when I have barely scraped the surface of my prime — it is my duty. Now that I am a Duke, I must find a wife. And the sooner I can get it over and done with, the better. I must confess – I am quite tired of the dalliances of courting. I have never had the tolerance for long conversations, so I am thankful she prefers to go on quiet walks sometimes.”
Penelope had to walk away as soon as she heard those words, absolutely seething with rage.
How dare he? How could Cecil use her dear friend — the dear friend of his sister whom he cherished more than anything — to fulfil his duty?
What frustrated Penelope more than anything was that Jane had her heart set on this being a match. She was far too blinded by her hopes and would likely not hear what Penelope had to say.
But… Penelope stopped in her tracks, her mind racing as her ears thrummed with the echo of her heart loudly beating.
Perhaps there is someone else that Jane would listen to, no matter what.
Penelope couldn’t stand by and simply let this go on. She had to do something, and she intended to. For Jane’s sake.