Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Forgive me, Your Grace, but Her Grace was quite insistent that she dance with me. I would not wish to go against her request.” Lord Westport was attempting to appear brave, as if he might stand over Dorian and bully him into submission.
Dorian looked at him flatly. “Are you trying to suggest that you know my wife better than I do?”
“I…” Lord Westport balked. “Of course not. I was simply explaining the impression that –”
“You can explain all you wish,” Dorian spoke over him.
“But it makes no difference to me. When my wife announces for the guests to find their partners and take the floor, you will remain here. Or outside. Or go to your room for all I care.” He held the lord in his hard gaze.
“Because I will be the one dancing with her. Is that understood?”
Lord Westport swallowed nervously. “Y – yes, of course. Forgive me, I did not mean to –”
“Good.” Dorian turned from the young lord and stalked away.
He could not stop thinking about the interaction he’d had just moments earlier with Penelope. How angry she had been. How she thought that he and Henriette were somehow involved – as if he wanted such a thing.
Worse still, that she was so furious with him that she claimed not to care about him at all.
She is acting out, that is all. Confused and embarrassed after last evening, she is doing exactly as I would. Distancing myself, because that’s easier than facing the truth.
A shame that Dorian still could not admit to himself what the truth was.
What he did know was that he couldn’t leave things as they were.
There was something happening between himself and Penelope, and try as he might to ignore it, there it was right in front of him.
All he needed was to be brave enough to accept it, and then do something about it…
And what better place for such a thing than on the dancefloor, entwined together in a waltz, watched by all, unable to turn and run, and forced to keep calm because the last thing either of them wanted was for their woes to become public knowledge.
Perhaps not the best plan that Dorian had ever conceived, but such were the times.
He spent the next ten minutes prowling the edges of the ballroom, making sure to keep his distance from Henrietta, while also watching Penelope who he felt was doing everything in her power not to look at him.
Strange that this brought a smile to his face, as it told him that despite her reservations, she was still thinking about him.
Then again, he was still thinking about her. And the fact that he was so concerned and so determined should have been enough to tell him how he felt. But I have always been a slow learner…
Soon, the music which played across the ballroom dimmed and fell silent.
Noticed by the guests, their talking was quick to follow as they looked about, their gazes eventually finding the middle of the ballroom where Penelope stood waiting.
The original plan was for Dorian and Penelope to address the guests together, but she had taken it on herself and wasn’t about to wait for him to join her.
“If I might have your attention for a minute,” Penelope called above the crowd. “Yes, this way thank you.” She was smiling as she spoke, glowing such was the confidence that she exuded.
Again, Dorian found himself smiling. He loved how self-assured she was. That she did not shy away from attention or responsibility. And it made him wonder about her desire to be a mother, realizing in that moment just how wonderful a parent, a protector, she would be.
“First of all, I want to thank you all for coming this weekend. My husband and I…” She frowned to herself, shaking it off and forcing her smile. “We are so glad that you could each make it. Just as we hope that this weekend is one you won’t soon forget.”
A circle formed around her, and Dorian slowly moved to its front edge. As he did, there were many in the small crowd who found him, and he smiled and waved as if this was all part of the plan. That he wasn’t purposefully avoiding his wife, just as she wasn’t avoiding him.
“As most of you know, we have a full weekend planned, today and tonight being just the beginning. And where the garden party earlier was an appetizer for today, this here is the main course.” She clapped her hands together and a few in the crowd laughed along.
“To begin with, I thought it might be fun to host a dance – many of you I have spoken with, and you each know your partner. So please…” She gestured to the crowd.
“Those who wish to join in, find your partner now and then a place on the dancefloor so we might begin. All are welcome!”
The crowd began to move at her instruction.
Dorian watched as the various couples found their mates, laughing and smiling as they took hands and began their way onto the dancefloor. He glanced through the crowd and caught sight of Lord Westport, pouting in the corner but not moving to find Penelope.
That was when Dorian acted.
He moved through the crowd, eyes set on his wife who was just now searching for Lord Westport.
“There has been a change of plan,” Dorian said, his voice low, as he came in beside her. “I am afraid that Lord Westport has found himself indisposed.” He moved to link his arm through Penelope’s.
She pulled her arm back. “What does that mean? What did you do?”
“I simply told him that I desire to dance with my wife tonight. Surely, there is no harm in that?”
Penelope scowled at him. “I told you… I do not wish to dance with you. Or to do much of anything with you. And if you think that once dance is going to change anything…”
“Penelope,” he said with a deep sigh. “I just want to talk.”
“Talk about what?”
“About us,” he said.
She raised a dismissive eyebrow. “There is no us, Dorian. There never has been – you have made sure of that. And if not these last three years, then these last three days.”
He winced. “I… that is not… I just need to explain…”
“Explain what?” She wasn’t as angry as he thought she would be.
More resigned, as if she had finally come to a decision that she’d been wrestling with and now knew the answer.
“You never wanted to marry me. Nor did you ever desire to try and make this marriage work. And perhaps…” She sighed and her expression saddened.
“And perhaps that is my fault, for thinking differently. For thinking that…”
“Thinking what?” he pressed.
“It does not matter,” she said. “But we have nothing to talk about, and one dance will not change that. So, if you don’t mind…” She moved to walk around him.
“Penelope.” He snatched her arm. “Where are you going?”
“To find Lord Westport.” She peeled her arm free. “I owe him a dance.” With that, she walked away, not once looking back.
And Dorian watched her go, his stomach writhing as if a den of snakes had hatched inside of him.
All this time, he been so convinced that he did not know what he wanted – or rather, that what he knew he wanted couldn’t be the case.
He was doing this for his sister, and everything else was inconsequential.
But to see Penelope reject him as she had done, to see her walk away without so much as a glance back, and he was finally starting to admit the truth of his feelings.
He was falling for his wife. Their marriage wasn’t one of mere convenience, easier to ignore than try and make something of, and it was time that he told her so. Dorian just hoped it wasn’t too late…