Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
“Say that again.” Dorian stared blankly at Reginald, certain that he had misheard. Hoping that he had, anyhow.
“She is there right now, Your Grace,” Reginald explained. “She has set herself up in the spare office in the western wing on the first level. I just left her.”
“With a list of my known associates? Family. Friends. Everyone I have ever been in contact with?”
“More or less,” Reginald said. “As well as a list of people who might help her rearrange and redecorate the rooms. She even asked after who designed the front garden…” A chuckle escaped his lips. “She was quite insistent on it.”
“Oh, I like her,” Barbara laughed.
“And you gave her these things?” Dorian snapped. “Without coming to see me first?”
Dorian had known Reginald for his entire life, since he was old enough to have memories of his own, as the man had worked for his family since his twentieth years.
Now, well into his sixties, Reginald was as much a part of Dorian’s world as the air he breathed and the food he ate.
And when he had been at war, forced to leave his sister here on her own, Reginald had been the one to care for her.
The point was, he owed the man everything. But that did not mean he wasn’t about to get angry when the wrong thing was done. As it had been now.
“If I may…” Reginald stood at the doorway to Barbara’s room, careful not to enter because he knew Dorian’s mood well enough to not do such a thing. “You requested that I not disturb you until this hour, Your Grace.”
“Yes, but –”
“Just as you requested that I do as I could to make Her Grace comfortable and at home. She requested this of me, I was not in a place to deny her. I did as I had to and no more.”
“He has a point, Brother,” Barbara said. “This is on you.”
Dorian groaned. “You’re right, Reginald. And I am sorry for snapping…” He clenched his jaw with frustration. “I just wish that you had not been so quick to assist her.”
“For that, I am sorry.”
“What is she playing at…” Dorian bit into his lower lip as he considered what he had just been told. That his wife—desperate as he’d been to ignore her so that she might leave of her own accord—had taken it upon herself to organize this party of his whether he was there to help her or not.
“I would say she is doing as you instructed her to,” Barbara laughed. “And rather thoroughly by the sounds of it.”
“You are not helping!” he snapped at his sister.
She scoffed. “I am not trying to.”
“I will remind you that it is your fault that she is here in the first place.” Indeed, he had already argued with his sister over the fact, and she had not even tried to deny it.
Why is she so darn eager to see me and Penelope spend time together. She knows why I do not wish it. Just as she knows how pointless such a thing will be.
“And I will remind you that the very reason all of this is happening in the first place is because you are hosting a house party which I had told you again and again that I do not –”
“Yes, yes,” he spoke over her sharply. “I am aware. This is all my fault and now I am forced to reap the consequences.”
“There.” Barbara beamed. “Was that so hard to admit?”
He glowered at her, and her smile grew.
It was a strange situation that Dorian found himself in. And not just what Reginald had informed him of, but everything. His wife, being here, what she wanted from him, what he had promised her… never in a million years might I have imagined it would come to this.
Even three days later and Dorian was still struggling to come to terms with Penelope’s sudden arrival. Putting aside the lie that had been spun to get her here, that she’d come anyway was what caused the most concern.
Stranger still, that she was not angry at him as she should have been.
Did he want her to hate him? It would have made things easier. At least that way she would want nothing to do with him. But that she cared little, and that she wanted… a child. He had no idea how to feel or what he should do.
That he agreed to her terms was a kneejerk reaction, and truly he did not think it would get that far. He figured that a few days of avoiding her and she would understand how he really felt and simply leave. He wanted her to leave. No, he needed her to leave.
That she hadn’t, that she was now taking matters into her own hands, was not only concerning but cause for panic.
“She’s in the office right now?” he confirmed with Reginald.
“She is, Your Grace.”
He groaned, knowing now what he needed to do. “As you say…” Another groan and he stood from his chair and started across the room. “I will speak with her.”
“Good luck,” Barbara called after him, humor in her voice.
He turned back and glared at her. “I don’t suppose you’ll be joining me.”
She looked at him flatly. “Would you want such a thing?”
“No…” He exhaled and turned away. “I don’t think I do.”
It had been such a pleasant morning too. As Dorian always did, he spent it with his sister, sitting under the window in her room, reading her favorite book, making her laugh and smile and seeing the joy moments like this brought her. Which sparked the same in him as well.
That she almost never left her room was ordinarily a problem, but considering he did not wish for her to meet Penelope, just now it was a small blessing.
That was not to say that she was confined to her room, and she often walked the estate when she grew bored.
But it wasn’t enough. She claimed that she was happy, but was she really?
All I want is for her to be happy. And she knows it. Just as she knows how important this party is… even if she refuses to admit such a thing.
But Dorian pushed that thought from his mind as he stormed through the manor, heading for the office on the bottom floor where he expected to find his wife.
And as he went, he tried to form a plan of attack.
Should he tell her to go home, cancelling their deal entirely?
Or should he call her bluff, force her hand, see just how much she wanted this…
Deep down, he was certain that when the time came she would balk and run.
He even smiled to remember the look on her face when he’d confirmed that she hadn’t considered what needed to be done to produce a child.
She might not have hated him, but she did not like him. And that would have to be enough.
That was until he reached the office, finding the door open. He arrived at it, was about to storm in, but found himself frozen.
Penelope was sitting at the table, head bent as she worked. With the window open, natural light from the midday sun was left to wash across her face, and she glowed with a radiance that was enchanting.
When they married, it was easy to convince himself that he thought nothing of her.
She was more reserved then, more unsure of herself, and he managed to tell himself that she was a wallflower that he wanted nothing to do with.
But he saw now how much she had changed, grown into a strong woman with an iron confidence and steadfast determination that refused to balk in the face of his hostility.
Penelope stopped what she was doing suddenly, her brow furrowed, and her head snapped up. Dorian’s eyes widened when she caught him watching, and the smile she wore to see him made his stomach flutter.
“Oh, look who it is,” she said, keeping that smile, which had since turned smug. “So, you do live here after all.”
“What are you doing?” Dorian demanded.
“Do you really not know?”
He scowled. “Reginald has informed me.”
“Even if he had not, I would have thought that after our conversation the other day, you would have figured it out for yourself.” She sat herself up and folded her hands on the table as she looked at him, that smug expression remaining.
“You asked for my help, and I am here to give it to you.” Then, a cocked eyebrow as if daring him to argue.
“You were to help me,” Dorian said. “Not go off on your own. That was not our agreement.”
“It is rather hard to help a person who does not wish to be helped,” she shot back.
“Who avoids me as if I have fallen into the Thames, climbed out atop an ash-heap, and refused to take a bath. I waited for you to come to me,” she said simply, her eyebrow still raised.
“You did not. So, I have taken matters into my own hands.”
Dorian walked into the room, making sure that his feet fell heavy so that the floor shook. “Did you stop to wonder why I had not come to you?”
“I did,” she said. “But I also do not care.”
“You were to wait –”
“I waited,” she spoke over him. Dorian’s mouth twitched, hating being cut off like that. “I waited and waited and waited. Do not think I don’t know what you are doing.”
“What I am doing?” He was at the table, standing over her as if to intimidate, but it had no effect.
“You think if you avoid me I will give up and go home. But we have a deal, and I intend to see it through. With your help, or without it.”
Her confidence put him on the back foot, and Dorian realized quickly that he could not bully her as he wished. If he wanted to win this, to be done with her, he needed to outsmart her. Make her realize that this won’t be nearly as simple as she thinks.
“On the contrary…” He glowered down at her.
“Our deal was not that you helped me, but that the help you give me is considered by me to be adequate and worth what it is that you require. You may go on your own, make plans as you see fit, but if the result is not as I deem appropriate, I will consider your end of the deal unfulfilled.”
Her eyes widened, anger flashing behind them. “That is not –”
“It is what you agreed to,” he cut her off, happy to do it. Then he leaned on the table, hands placed flat, forcing her to lean back in her chair. “And it is too late to change terms, I am sorry to say.”