Chapter 3 #2
Penelope had not heard from her husband in three years. And now, she would be seeing him within the week. When she did, she would make a request that she doubted he expected but would have no choice but to accept. Or he will do, if he knows what is good for him.
Was Penelope looking forward to the reunion? Not even a little bit. But what would come from it was reason enough to smile. For three years she had lived a simple life, a fun life, and an empty life. That would soon change.
Of that, she had no doubt.
“You’re the one who wants this, Dorian, not me – as I have told you more times than I care to count. Meaning, that if you insist on going through with this –”
“Which I will do,” His Grace Dorian Campbell the Duke of Blackfort interrupted. “For which you will thank me when it is done. I promise you will.”
“I doubt it.” An amused scoff and a shake of the head. “But all this is to say that nothing has changed from yesterday, or the day before. You want to go through with this farce, I can’t stop you. Just as you can’t force me to help organize it. You’re on your own, Brother.”
Dorian groaned and rubbed his eyes. “I’m doing this for you, Barbara. Why can’t you see that!”
“Oh, I see it well enough. That doesn’t mean I agree with it.”
Another groan from Dorian. “I look forward to when this is all over with. When you come to me, a smile on your face and laughter in your voice, thanking me for forcing this on you. And when that happens, an apology might be nice also.”
“If such a day does occur, I will be sure to be most magnanimous.”
Dorian attempted to fix his younger sister with a scowl, one he hoped would tell her just how annoyed he was with the way she was behaving. But when he did, she smirked and cocked a dismissive eyebrow right back, refusing to back down.
The result of this rebuke saw Dorian’s frustration simmer, a smile forcing its way across his lips because he never was much good at staying angry with his sister. Even if he very much wanted to be, she always had a way of bringing out the best in him.
Dammit, I do love her. Even if she frustrates me to tears.
“What am I going to do with you?” Dorian sighed, letting his posture slump. “You’ll be the death of me, Barbara.”
“I sure hope not,” she said, allowing herself to smile now. “If that was to happen, I’d feel awfully guilty. Not to mention how lost I would be without you.”
He was standing in the doorway of his sister’s bedroom, while she was sitting under the window with a book in hand.
Now that the argument was had – and lost – Dorian crossed the room to her, holding out his arms to bring her into a hug.
She did not deserve such things but… well, again, when it came to Barbara, Dorian had always been rather forgiving.
“You will thank me for this.” He crouched when he reached where she sat, wrapping his arms around her.
She pretended to wiggle free, while allowing the embrace. “On that, we will have to agree to disagree. But I appreciate the positivity.”
Dorian had known how this conversation would end, enough that he almost considered not wasting the time.
Eight years of such things and by now he knew well enough who his sister was and how she felt about such things as socializing, party-going, or even leaving the house.
But he wouldn’t be her big brother if he didn’t at least try.
And try he was. His sister might have refused to re-enter society as he so wished her to do, but if she was given no choice, forced to be social because the party was being brought to her with nowhere to escape, perhaps that would make the difference.
I doubt it will. And she seems to know the same. But I must try. I feel that I owe her that much, at least.
“I suppose there’s no chance of me convincing you to cancel this party altogether, is there?” she asked as he pulled away.
“Not even a little.”
“Drat,” she said and clicked her tongue. “Even if the work it will take to organize such a thing might very well kill you?”
“Why do you think I was asking for your help?” he laughed.
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “You know, I am not the only woman in your life who you might reach out to….”
His expression fell flat, and he pushed himself back to his feet. “And that is my cue to leave. As you knew it would be. Which has me suspecting that you did so on purpose.”
“Am I that transparent?”
Dorian continued to smile as he shook his head to himself.
His sister was right; this party he was planning was turning into a monumental affair, quickly spiraling out of control such that he wasn’t entirely certain of its success…
or if hosting it in the first place was the brilliant idea he had once thought.
Again, he reminded himself that he wasn’t doing it for himself, but for her. She might have objected. She might have hated him for it. But it was for the best, needed like she would never admit. And for that reason alone he was committed. Even if it does end up killing me.
“I’ll see you at supper?” Dorian asked as he started across the room.
“It is not like I have anywhere else to go,” she called after him.
Dorian sighed at the comment as he stepped out of the room. It was a sigh that cut short the moment he was in the hall, for he came upon his Head of Staff, Reginald, who wore a look on his face that suggested the world was about to end.
“Reginald…” Dorian came to a stop before the butler. “Might I ask what the look is concerning? Surely not good news, if such a thing exists.”
“I was just coming to find you,” Reginald explained, sucking through his teeth as he did. “It is… most strange, Your Grace. But you have an unexpected guest.”
“I do?” Dorian frowned as he tried to remember the last time anyone had visited him here. Months, he was sure. Maybe even longer than that… “Who?”
“I do not know the reason, nor was it expected,” Reginald was sure to explain. “But she arrived just now, refusing to leave before having spoken to you.”
“She?”
“It is your wife, Your Grace,” he said. “The duchess.”
Dorian thought at first that Reginald was mistaken. Or perhaps that he was making fun. He must be that. Penelope would never… she has no reason to… this must be a mistake.
He left the butler standing there, striding quickly down the halls until he found himself at the top of the main staircase overlooking the entrance foyer.
And once he did, his mouth dropped open and his eyes widened as if they might burst because the woman standing in the foyer was undoubtedly his estranged wife.
Dorian thought to turn and leave before she saw him.
It was three years since the last time he lay eyes on Penelope, and even that was a memory he’d done well to forget.
A marriage he did not want. A wife he had no desire to get to know – as she had no desires on him.
An arraignment conceived for convenience and propriety but never meant to be more than that. And yet…
Penelope had her back to him, but her body became stiff suddenly and slowly she turned about to find him staring down at her.
She looked just as Dorian remembered. The same oval shaped face with soft features.
The same large eyes, that tiny nose, the freckles that dusted her skin.
Pretty, both elegant and refined, she was a beauty any way one looked at it.
And even dressed in her travelling clothes, looking tired and a little worn, she seemed to glow as if the light itself was drawn to her. Yes, the same… while also different.
She has changed in these past three years. Not quite as reserved. Not nearly so unsure. More confident, she has grown into herself in ways that shouldn’t surprise me. Even if I should be wary of them.
“Your Grace,” Penelope said when she noticed him. She did not wear a smile or look particularly pleased to see him. “It is nice to see you.”
“Your Grace,” he answered formally as he started carefully down the stairs. “As it is you. Unexpected, but not unwelcome.” That was a lie.
“I would think not,” she said simply as she started toward the base of the steps. “I thought to send word ahead, but seeing as I was invited, I wasn’t certain it was necessary.”
Dorian paused halfway down the staircase. “Invited?”
“There was no date attached,” she continued. “But urgency was presumed. And I thought it best to get started immediately, rather than wasting time exchanging letters.” She shrugged. “Again, I hope this is –”
“What do you mean, you were invited?” Dorian hurried down the stairs. “Invited by whom?”
She frowned. “By you. Unless there is another duke living here?”
“I…” He reached the lower landing, his head already starting to throb. “I have no idea what you are -- who invited you? To what end? Is this some sort of a joke?”
Closer now, Dorian could see clearly the uncertainty in his wife’s eyes. This whole thing… “strange” did not come close to covering it. Despite this woman being his wife, she was effectively a stranger, and he had hoped when he left three years ago that it would stay that way.
“You wrote me,” Penelope explained, albeit with less confidence. “First, an invitation to the party you are hosting –”
“Invitations have not been sent,” he cut over her.
“They have been…” She tilted her head as she studied him, searching for the lie. “I was sent one, as were my sisters. And with that invitation you sent me a personal note.”
“I did not such thing.”
“I am not lying.”
“You are not telling the truth either.”
He saw the side of her lip twitch with frustration. Then she fiddled for a moment with her purse, producing from it a furled letter which she held out for him to take. “See for yourself.”
Dorian snatched the letter and scanned it quickly, at which point his stomach knotted so he thought he might be sick.
It was indeed a letter written to Penelope, asking her to pay him a visit and stay with him so that she might help him arrange the party he planned on hosting.
What was more, it was signed in his own hand.
“She has lost her mind,” Dorian groaned because he knew well who had sent this letter.
“Who?”
“My…” He caught himself, because Dorian did not speak of his sister to anybody, and that wasn’t about to change now. “I did not write this letter,” he said instead. “You have been tricked.”
“Oh.” Penelope blinked. “You are sure?”
“Of course I am.” He exhaled sharply. “Did you really think that after all this time, that this is how I would choose to contact you? Did you not stop to question the logic behind it?”
Her expression darkened. “And how exactly am I meant to have any notion of what you deem as logical? The little I know of you, who is to say that this is not normal fare? Do not speak to me as if I am some sort of fool.”
“I was not –”
“Three years it has been since we last spoke,” she spoke over him. “More fool me, thinking that my husband might want to see me after all that time. What a silly notion to have.”
Dorian could see her growing angry, for which he couldn’t exactly blame her.
It was easy to forget about Penelope and what he had done when she lived hours away and was out of sight.
But now, face to face, he was forced to reckon with the consequences of his actions like he never expected or wanted to do.
“I understand that you might be upset with me.”
“I am not upset with you,” she said quickly. “Do not presume that I would waste such emotions on a man who would not do me the same courtesy.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Now, are you or are you not throwing a party in the coming weeks?”
“I am…”
“And am I right in assuming that you need help? Such an undertaking is sure to cause a certain amount of difficulty.”
“I…” He gave his head a shake. “It is hardly your concern.”
“I take that as a yes.” She folded her arms. “Meaning that the situation has not changed, even if the cause is a little odd. All that is to say that you need help and I am here to give it. To help you organize your party, is my meaning.”
Dorian balked under the force of his wife’s determination.
She really has changed… “You are not… I do not need… why are you here? Really?” He fixed her in a glare of his own, needing to take control of this situation before it spiraled completely beyond his grasp.
“Even had I sent the letter, I can’t imagine you would ever want to help me. ”
She scoffed. “It is not you I am trying to help.”
“What does that mean?”
Penelope exhaled and forced herself to calm down.
Arms still folded, she fidgeted slightly, her confidence wavering.
“The truth is, when I received your invitation, I thought that I might… I realized that where you needed my help, that perhaps there was something you could help me with. A quid pro quo.”
“Meaning?”
“Three years ago, when you left me as you did, I was happy – not at first, but I came to realize that you did me a favor. I was being truthful when I said I was not upset with you, and that has not changed. However, these last few months, I have also realized that I am missing something, something that only you, my husband, can provide.”
Dorian leaned back, feeling that knot in his stomach tighten. “Which is?”
“I want to have a child,” she said, followed by an awkward grimace. “If I help you with this, in return, I would like you to do your duty as a husband and give me a family.”
Dorian stared stupidly. Blankly. His mouth fell open. His eyes turned wide. Penelope kept her eyebrow raised, no sense at all that she was joking or trying to trick him or… or… he did not know! Of all the reasons for his wife returning, this was perhaps the last thing he could have ever expected.
Perhaps my sister was right, and this party is the worst of ideas. Somehow, I get the sense that this will be a point proven a dozen times over… I really should have listened to her when I had the chance.