Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was a strange few days that followed Dorian’s decision to start working closely with Penelope – a decision that even three days later he was still struggling to properly justify to himself.
Oh sure, it was easy enough to claim that he did so because he had no choice, knowing that Penelope wasn’t going to simply give in so he might as well do as he promised. What was more, he needed the party to go well and with her helping him there was a greater chance that it would.
A relatively simple justification, but not even close to the truth. As painful as it is for me to admit such a thing to myself…
He knew how dangerous it was to risk working so closely with his wife, but Dorian’s mind had been changed when he saw Penelope and his sister laughing together in the garden.
Try as he might, he could not remember a time that he’d seen his sister so comfortable with a stranger, so willing to socialize and be herself as he knew she could do if only she would give it a chance.
It made his heart swell, and it told him that everything he was doing was right and for the best.
What was more, he reasoned that having Penelope around for at least a little while longer could only be a good thing… for his sister, of course. Not for him.
But he had to be careful. Still, he was determined to keep Penelope at arm's length and not allow her close to him or his personal life, to not give the impression he wanted her there.
So, as they started to work together, spending hours a day in his office to finalize the details of the party, he was sure to always keep the conversation to the point and surface level.
It is as if she works for me. She is not my friend. She is not my wife. And when this is done, telling her to leave will be the expected thing – she will want to go, knowing there is no future here.
This was easy to do at first, and it seemed to him that Penelope was of the same mind. But as the days wore on, and as they spent more time together, it became clear that such a state of being could not possibly last.
And so it was that when Penelope finally broke the silent pact, it did not come as a huge surprise. Even if Dorian remained steadfast in his determination to act as if it was.
“It’s for your sister, isn’t it?” Penelope asked him suddenly, out of nowhere it felt like.
“Excuse me?”
“This party, everything you are doing – that you have done. It’s for Barbara.” She looked across the table at him, one eyebrow raised, an expression worn on her face that told him lying outright would be a fool’s errand.
“What makes you say that?” he asked.
She rolled her eyes. “Because I am not a complete dolt, even if you wish that I was. I have two eyes, two ears, and a working brain. Plus…” She winked. “I am rather perceptive. You might have noticed by now.”
“And modest.”
“The most modest,” she laughed. “Come now, tell me truly. This party is for your sister’s benefit, is it not? Even if she so clearly does not want it.”
“She does not know what she wants,” he grumbled. “But try telling her that.”
She laughed further. “It is a fine line to walk. Doing the right thing for those you love, even if you know they will hate you for it…” She bit into her lower lip, and he saw a thought pass behind her eyes, the sense that she knew a little too well of what she spoke.
“But I sense that she is not nearly as against it as you think. She is just stubborn. Perhaps she takes after her brother.”
“She does that,” he scoffed. Then he looked closely at his wife, feeling the need to deter her, while finding that he did not want to.
Dorian never spoke about his sister, and he hated the idea that others might think her strange and judge her.
But he knew too that wasn’t Penelope, just as he found he wanted to tell her.
Although why I do… I can’t say. “Yes,” he admitted with a resigned sigh.
“This party is being thrown for my sister’s benefit.
Long overdue, and hopefully not too late. ”
“You don’t sound very pleased about it.”
“More pleased than she is.” He exhaled and gave his head a shake. “Truly, I will be happy when it’s all done with. Assuming it works the way I hope.”
“To find her a husband, you mean?” She fixed him in a knowing stare, not giving him a chance to wiggle free.
“You are far more perceptive than I would have thought… or wished for, for that matter.”
She rolled her eyes. “Three days of this and it’s about time I figured it out.
And for the record, if you had told me about it earlier, it might have saved the two of us a lot of the hassle.
” She laughed then, and it sounded good to Dorian’s ears.
“Honestly, how am I supposed to help you if you won’t let me? I am not a magician.”
“I guess I hoped that you wouldn’t.”
“You won’t get rid of me that easily.”
“Believe me, I have long since figured that out for myself.” And then, in a most surprising turn of events, they laughed together, the first time they had dared to do so.
A most dangerous moment… one I can’t allow to happen again.
They were sitting in Dorian’s office, as they had done now the past three days. She sat across from him, the same seat she always took, happy to do as he asked of her… as long as he explained his reasoning. His wife was nothing if not argumentative.
They argued a lot, in fact. Always, it seemed, over the smallest of details. What food to serve. What games might be played. What music should be listened to. Everything he said was answered with a rebuke such that he had come to expect it from her.
The question she asked this time was brought forward because they were finalizing the guest list. Most of those who Dorian wanted were perfectly natural requests, but Penelope appeared confused by some of them, mostly the lords who Dorian insisted on inviting, even if he was not so close to them.
They were for his sister, of course, men he wished her to meet so that maybe one would catch her eye. Dorian hoped he would not have to explain this to Penelope, but she pushed, he pushed back, and then she made the leap and asked the question to which she had already known the answer.
And so it was, the illusion of a surface level arrangement shattered, and Dorian could feel the tension melting as Penelope began to feel more comfortable around him in ways he wanted to avoid but suddenly wasn’t so willing to dismiss.
Maybe my sister is not the only one desperate for outside company…
“Might I ask…” Penelope hesitated, biting into her lower lip because she seemed to sense the magnitude of the moment as much as he did. “Your sister. Why is she….” She hesitated. “She does not leave the house often, does she?”
He laughed bitterly. “You have noticed that for yourself, I am sure.”
“Can I ask the reason?” she followed up. “Barbara seems perfectly – she is lovely,” she tried instead. “I would have never guessed her for a recluse.”
Dorian winced at the terminology. Indeed, his sister was a shut-in, and even he did not entirely understand why.
He had asked her, of course, and he had tried to make her tell him.
When he left for the war over ten years ago, she had been perfectly happy and normal in every way that mattered, and it wasn’t until he returned eight years later that she had begun to refuse ever to leave the house.
Something had caused it. Something had happened to her. But she refused to tell him, and after years of trying to find out, Dorian stopped asking, figuring it did not matter how it happened, only that he might be able to help her.
To see her happy and healthy finally, that was all he ever wanted.
“It is nothing you need to concern yourself with,” he said a little too sharply, to which he saw Penelope lean back as if struck. “That she is a little antisocial… that is all which matters. And hopefully, by the time this party is hosted, it will be a problem of the past.”
“I did not mean to pry,” Penelope said, her voice tender.
“Yes, you did,” he said, looking away with shame. “But you’re not the first to do so. I’m more than used to the judgement by now.”
“I wasn’t judging.”
“You were.”
“No,” she said, sitting herself up and fixing him with a stern look. “I certainly was not. And if you knew anything about me – which you do not, you would know that I am not one to judge.” She raised an eyebrow at him in warning, daring him to argue.
Dorian sighed. “I suppose you’re right. I… I should not have assumed.”
“It is fine.” She relaxed slightly. Then, she laughed. “It is strange, isn’t it. That we are married, yet we know so little about one another. Practically strangers.”
Dorian grimaced, sensing where this conversation was going. “There isn’t anything to know…” He bent his head over the desk as if he meant to get back to work.
“On the contrary,” Penelope pushed, eagerness touching her voice.
“It has been three years since we married, surely something of note has happened to you in that time?” Head still bowed, he could feel her eyes on him.
“For example, I found that living alone while being free to do as I wished wasn’t nearly as enjoyable as I hoped it might be.
” She laughed at that. “Oh sure, it started that way, but the honeymoon period couldn’t last forever. ”
Still, Dorian pretended to ignore her, and still he felt her watching him.
“My father passing did not help,” she said, and her tone turned toward morose.
He winced, knowing about her father. “In truth, that is largely the reason I wanted to have a child. I…” She exhaled and her voice grew heavy.
“My entire life, everything I did, was for him. Caring for him. Keeping him company. It gave me purpose, and I was happy for it to do so. Much like you with your sister, I imagine.”
“I will be happier when she finds herself a husband,” Dorian spoke before he could stop himself.
If he was being honest with himself, Dorian couldn’t say whether that was accurate, even if he’d never really thought about it before.
For the last few years, everything he did was for his sister, a life dedicated to her happiness and wellbeing.
But what would happen when she found a husband and moved out? What would he do when he had no one...
I want that to be the case, don’t I? Is that not the entire point of this party in the first place?
“Oh, I am sure you will be,” she said with sincerity. “But it is harder to reckon with when it does happen. And for me, these last few months, I came to realize that a child will fill that void my father left behind.” She laughed awkwardly. “That probably sounds foolish, doesn’t it.”
“No,” he said softly. “It doesn’t.”
“I want you to know, Dorian, I am not trying to trap you. I do not expect you to help me raise the child – or involve yourself in any way. This is for me and me alone, and once I fall pregnant if you wish to pretend that I do not exist, then…” She was looking at him, he could feel it.
“Then that will probably be for the best.”
It should have been exactly what Dorian wanted to hear.
He had no designs on a child of his own, as for now his life was for his sister and her future. But what would happen once she left him? Would he experience that same emptiness that Penelope was dealing with right now? Would he want more…
His mind turned to his own upbringing. A father who paid more attention to his older brother.
A mother who gave all her love to his sister.
Resentment blossoming at being ignored and treated with indifference, having nobody in his life to love or care for him, which in turn saw him leave and join the war.
It wasn’t until he was gone that his father died, and his mother shortly after.
Still, he stayed away, resenting them because he felt that they would not have cared if he came back or not.
And it wasn’t until his brother died and he was forced to return that he grew close to his sister, finding in her that piece of himself that he was always missing.
Did his child deserve a life such as that? A father who he or she did not even know? Especially as he knew better than anyone the effect that was sure to have on them?
“I know what you are doing,” Dorian spoke into his chest, still not looking at her.
“Excuse me?”
Slowly, he forced himself to look at her. He made his expression severe and accusatory, not wanting her to see how plagued he was with self-doubt. “I am not going to go back on my word, if that is what worries you.”
“I wasn’t...”
“And trying to make me feel sorry for you or… or pity you.” He curled his lips in dismissal. “You will have your child, if you keep up your end of the bargain. But only if you do.”
Penelope was leaning back, clearly surprised by the turn he had taken. “I… I know –”
“Which is why we shouldn’t waste time speaking of things that do not matter,” he said sharply. “We have a week, and don’t have time to waste.” With that, he bowed his head again and went back to work.
Penelope continued to watch him, likely not understanding what had brought about his anger.
And where Dorian was plagued by guilt, as it had not been her fault, he did not explain or apologize.
He needed to keep this relationship professional and surface level only…
no matter how hard it was. No matter what the voice said in the back of his mind, warning him that should this weekend succeed the way it might, he would be alone with nobody to care for or look after.
That was a problem for the future. And being as stubborn as he was, it wasn’t one he thought to fix. Even if his wife, in a situation that echoed his own a little too closely, might have been the only person in this world capable of understanding.