Chapter 3 #2
The duke is not seeking a love match. He is merely looking for a wife to fulfill the duty that comes with his dukedom.
He views marriage as an obligation, nothing more, and he likely desires a marriage of convenience.
If you hope to find love and affection in your union, I fear you will be sorely disappointed.
I urge you to reconsider this courtship before it is too late.
Yours in solidarity,
Athena
Cecil's jaw tightened as he read the words, a slow, simmering anger building in his chest. Who was this person? And how had they known what he said to Lionel at the ball?
And the way the person spoke of his actions – with such disdain, such certainty – suggested that they did not like him. At all.
But there was something else. Something that nagged at the edges of his awareness, though he could not quite place it. Moments later, after he stared and stared at it, he finally realized what tugged at the edges of his subconscious.
The paper carried a piece of scented wax that bore a familiar scent. It was faint, barely noticeable, but it was there. A delicate, floral fragrance that clung to the paper. He had smelled it before, though he could not remember where, much to his frustration.
With a sigh of resignation, he folded the letter and handed it back to Jane, telling her earnestly,
“I am sorry, Miss Fenwell. It was not my intention to deceive you.”
Jane said nothing, simply plucking her letter out of his fingers and marching away.
With a frustrated sigh, he decided to return to his current boarding house, eager to down a few glasses of port and put the day behind him.
By the time Cecil returned to Lionel's home, he was still seething, because the longer he considered how ridiculous the situation was, the less he could believe that someone had directly interfered with his affairs. Without any fear of the consequences.
The audacity of this person – this Athena – to meddle in his life without knowing the full circumstances was infuriating. And the fact that Jane had believed them so readily only made it worse.
He strode through the entrance hall, barely acknowledging the servants who greeted him, and made his way toward the staircase. His room was on the second floor, and all he wanted was to pour himself a drink.
But as he reached the top of the stairs, he caught a whiff of something that made him pause.
It was faint, almost imperceptible. But it was there.
That same floral scent that had been on Jane’s letter.
Cecil stopped in his tracks, his head turning slightly as he tried to pinpoint where it was coming from. He took a few steps down the hallway, following the scent until he found himself standing outside a door that was slightly ajar.
Penelope was eager to take off her shoes upon her arrival back home and perhaps crawl under her covers until dinner time, so she did not notice the man standing in her room at first. However, after she closed the door and turned to goin further, she finally noticed the figure standing near her window, her eyes widening in shock.
“You–” she gasped, stepping backwards as a hand came up to rest over her chest. “What are you doing in here? You are a guest, Your Grace. You cannot go waltzing into rooms however you like!”
Cecil said nothing. He simply shuffled closer to her, his dark gaze fixed on her in a way that sent shivers down her spine. Despite how he frustrated her with his casual flirtation, he had never looked at her like this.
And it was so unsettling, Penelope felt afraid.
He continued to advance towards her, finally speaking in a tone that was calm, but still bore an edge to it.
“I was headed to my room,” Cecil said quietly, as he came to a stop in front of her. “When I smelled something interesting outside your door. And when I followed it, I was able to track it all the way to your drawer.”
He waited, watching her carefully. But Penelope remained silent, her hands clenching at her sides.
“Why is there a pleasant scent coming from that drawer, Lady Penelope?” he asked, his voice deceptively calm.
“R-Regardless of what you thought, you had no right to enter my room like that. This is not your house and you cannot simply do as you –”
Her mouth snapped shut as he backed into a wall, his hands placed on either side of her head. Penelope suspected what had happened, and it was clear he was more intent on letting her confess rather than confronting her about it.
In a bid to preserve some idea of innocence, Penelope chose to stay silent. But it seemed that none of that mattered to Cecil, who seemed content to speak for both of them.
“Are you bored?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. “Or perhaps you do not get enough attention? Is that why you feel as though you must meddle in the lives of others as some sort of... masked crusader? Answer me, Athena.”
Penelope's breath hitched, horrified to have been caught, but she lifted her chin defiantly. “Jane is looking for a love match. I overheard you saying that all you care about is a beneficial match. I could not allow my friend to be miserable just because of your lies.”
“Why did you decide to become Athena?” Cecil demanded to know, his eyes dark.
“Because I cannot allow women to waste their lives away just because rakes like you decided you need a match!” Penelope snapped, her own eyes flashing. “Women are not there to simply conform to whatever needs arise for any random man!”
Cecil felt fury rising within him, hot and bitter – but he forced himself to smile instead, cold and calculated.
“That is quite a passionate ideal, Lady Penelope,” he said softly. “I wonder if your brother would share the same sentiment when he learns of what you have been up to.”
The colour drained from Penelope's face. “You would not –”
“Would I not?” Cecil tilted his head. “It would be a simple matter to let Lionel know about his dear sister's secret activities. I am certain he would be most interested to hear about it.”
“I had known you were a despicable man, but I never imagined you would stoop as low as to threaten me.” Penelope stated, folding her arms stubbornly.
“I can hardly call it a threat, Lady Penelope. I am merely attempting to illuminate your conundrum. And by the look on your face, I can imagine that you finally understand my intentions.”
“You have no proof. You have nothing that can directly tie my involvement to Athena’s work. That paper wax is common and it does not serve as substancial –”
“Would you like to wager on that?” he grinned, looking far too pleased with the situation. “You sound sure of yourself – absolutely certain that it would be impossible for me to prove that you are who we confirmed you are, mere moments ago. If you truly believe that, why don’t you wager on it?”
Penelope found it hard to breathe. Try as she might, the air around her felt too heavy and thick, and her mind spun with the possibility of Cecil actually managing to expose her to her brother.
And for the first time since she had assumed the identity of Athena, she felt fear stab her heart and eat away at the pride she had garnered with her deeds.
“Please,” she whispered as her defiance crumbled. “Please do not tell him. I cannot – I do not want to disappoint him. I am already too much of a disappointment.”
Her voice sounded raw even to her own ears, perhaps there was something vulnerable that made Cecil pause.
Slowly, he lifted one hand and traced his fingers along her jaw, tilting her face up toward his.
Penelope went still against the wall, her breath catching as she grew acutely aware of how close they were standing – of the way his dark eyes had fixed on her face, the dark curl of his hair spilling over his forehead in a way that made him look almost boyishly handsome.
This close, she had no choice but to acknowledge the muscles that made up his tall frame, her eyes tracing his broad shoulders.
Cecil had always been handsome, in a charming sort of way, but Penelope refused to acknowledge it, knowing his face was how he got away with most of his crimes. She did not want to enable his wrongdoings. But now... as his dark blue eyes glanced around her face, she felt so immensely trapped.
Especially when his thumb traced the edge of her bottom lip, and her breath hitched at his touch.
“This is a much better look on you,” he murmured, his voice rough.
For a moment, they simply stared at each other. Then Cecil stepped back, letting his hand fall away.
“I will keep your secret,” he said, his tone turning businesslike once more.
“On one condition. You will make up for the time you have wasted. You will help me find the right match, and then you will ensure that whatever opinions ‘Athena’ might have about me are left out of the matter entirely. If I detect her interference in anyway, I will go straight to Lionel.”
Penelope blinked, as though coming out of a trance. “What?”
“You heard me. You will help me find a wife. A suitable one.”
Penelope looked like she wanted to scream.
“I want nothing to do with you and your hunt for a wife. I refuse to be a part of your silly little game –”
“You do not seem to realize,” he chuckled darkly.
“That you are in no position to refuse me. You cost me a match, and you interfered with my affairs. You will help me, or the whole ton will quickly find out who is really Athena. I am sure it will come as a shock to Lionel first, no? Perhaps it is for the best to let him know as soon as possible, then.”
Cecil started towards the door, but then Penelope shouted, “No! Wait!”
The duke stopped in his tracks, waiting for her to go on. Penelope sighed, squeezing her hand into fists by her side before she said through gritted teeth.
“As long as no lady is tricked into an unhappy marriage. I will not stand for any form of deceit or trickery.”
“That is precisely why you will be there to assist me,” Cecil replied. “To find me a wife whose values match mine. Properly, this time.”
He extended his hand toward her and waited silently.
Penelope stared at it for a long moment, her expression torn between fury and resignation. Then, with obvious reluctance, she placed her hand in his.
“Very well,” she said tightly. “I agree to your terms.”
Cecil's fingers closed around hers, warm and firm.
“Excellent,” he said, allowing himself a small smile. “I believe this arrangement will work out splendidly, Lady Penelope. Do you not agree?”
Penelope glared at him, but she did not pull her hand away.
“I despise you,” she muttered.
“I know,” Cecil replied cheerfully. “But you will help me nonetheless. I look forward to seeing what results we can yield together.”
With a grin flashed in her direction, his menacing aura disappeared, and he walked out of her room whistling.
Penelope stood still in her room for a moment, then crumpled to the floor, her heart racing so fast she felt her chest tightening, as though to stop it from beating out of her.
“Oh dear,” she pressed a hand to her mouth, horrified at the deal she had just made. “What have I done?”