Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Every time that someone walked into the ballroom, Penelope looked up, a smile spreading across her face, hope entering her heart because she was certain that it would be Dorian. And every time that it was somebody other than him, her smile dropped and the hope she felt withered ever so slightly.
He has just slept in. That is all. Any moment now and he is sure to walk in, see me sitting here, smile and wave, and join me. No need to panic…
She wasn’t panicking, and that needed to be said.
After how well last evening had gone, for the first time Penelope knew that she had absolutely no reason to feel such a thing as that.
Finally, she and Dorian had talked about their future, and where he had not told her just yet what he wanted…
the kiss that she still felt on her lips was proof enough.
Today he would come to her. Today, he would tell her that he wanted to try and make this marriage work. Today, everything would change.
Maybe it would lead to nothing. Maybe a week in or two or three and they would realize that they were never meant to be together. But at least they would know, and the rest of their lives would not be spent wondering.
And if that wasn’t a reason to feel hope, then Penelope didn’t know what was.
However, as the minutes stretched on and as the ballroom filled and as the duke was nowhere to be seen, that hope was all which sustained her because deep down she sensed that something was wrong.
“Is this seat taken, Your Grace?”
Penelope started when she heard the voice, one she did not recognize. She turned to see who had spoken, and was forced to keep the sneer from her lips and the scowl from her eyes.
“Oh, I was…” Penelope turned back to the entrance, confirming that Dorian was nowhere be to found. “I suppose not,” she then offered with a depressed sigh.
“Thank you.” It was Henrietta Wood, the young red-headed beauty who had spent the last two days following Dorian around like a puppy might its master. “It has gotten so busy these last few minutes and I feared I might miss out.” She laughed gaily and sat down beside Penelope. “And I am famished.”
Penelope offered her a smile but said nothing. She did not wish to be rude, but she certainly did not wish to speak to the young woman either.
Another look over the ballroom, and Penelope tried to focus instead on how well this weekend was going.
The final full day and by the looks of it, everyone who attended was glad to have done so.
There were well over a dozen guests in the ballroom, seated along the two tables set through the center, eating and chatting and guessing what events were in store for them.
In particular, Penelope focused on the happy couples, those husbands and wives who appeared perfectly at ease with their partner. Had their marriages started the same as her own? Proof that a little bit of work and time spent could produce something worth fighting for?
“I want you to know too, Your Grace, that your secret is safe with me.”
Penelope frowned when she heard the comment, forced to turn around where she found Henritta looking at her. Those big green eyes fluttered innocently. “Excuse me?”
“Your secret,” she repeated simply. “It is safe with me. My father had wondered if it might be worth telling people, but he has since come to realize that nothing might be gained from spreading gossip. How a husband and wife choose to spend their time is nobody’s business but their own.”
Penelope blinked. “What… I am afraid I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“Oh.” Her eyes widened. “I… I am sorry, I thought you must have…” She laughed softly and shook her head. “Silly me, getting ahead of myself. I was referring to the argument that you and His Grace had two nights ago, after the ball.”
“Argument?” It took Penelope a moment to understand what she meant.
“My father overheard you,” Henrietta explained with a smile. “Not on purpose, but as he said it, the two of you were not exactly being subtle. For what it is worth, I agree with you.”
Penelope had no idea what was going on. Her stomach turned a little, that feeling that whatever this was, she should have felt worried. But Henrietta was being so kind it was hard to justify why she should.
“From what I understand, marriages are hard work,” the young redhead continued. “And if one knows that it is not worth the effort, why waste the time?” She shrugged. “Truly, I am sure there are many wives who are even envious of you.”
“I don’t…” Penelope gave her head a shake. “I don’t know what you think you heard, but I can assure you that His Grace and I are not…” She clicked her tongue with frustration. “We are not wasting time. There is nothing wrong with our marriage.”
Henritta’s eyes widened. “Oh! I did not mean – forgive me.” She reached out and took Penelope’s hand.
“I did not mean it like that. Truly, I think it is very brave what you are doing. And smart, truth be told. I mean, just imagine if word got out about the two of you…” She shuddered. “The things that people would say.”
“That they would… what do you mean?”
“Oh, you know how people gossip,” Henrietta said.
“Even if there is no truth to it, that matters none. I know His Grace to be a proud man, and such slander as that would surely ruin him. And if not him, the effect it would have on those close to him. His sister for example…” A deep sigh as if with regret.
“It is smart that the two of you are keeping it so close to the chest.”
Penelope had no idea what was going on.
It sounded to her like the young woman was threatening her, although she didn’t understand to what end exactly. She was being so kind and gentle, as if she truly cared for Penelope’s well-being.
“Thank you for your concern,” Penelope said carefully. “But what His Grace and I do – where our marriage is concerned. It is nobody’s business.”
“I could not agree more,” Henrietta said earnestly.
“And deciding against having a child too, very clever.” She nodded seriously.
“To bring a child into a home without affection would only confuse things further. Not to mention that if an annulment was ever sought, it would make it impossible. You have clearly thought ahead.”
“I… that isn’t --”
“My business,” Henrietta said quickly. “And I should not have said anything. In truth, I hope that you and His Grace work things out.” Still holding her by the hand, she squeezed it.
“If that was to happen, it would not matter what people said. Of course, if you didn’t…
” She grimaced. “Let us not say such things.”
Penelope stared blankly at the young woman, still confused, still reeling because she hadn’t considered any of what Henrietta was saying. But to hear it put so bluntly… how could I have missed it?
All this time, Penelope had considered her marriage to the duke from her point of view only.
How it might affect her. How her life was that which suffered.
Not once had she thought about it from Dorian’s point of view, not to mention the consequences should things turn even worse than they already were.
Sure, if things worked out, none of this would matter. But what if they didn’t? What if they tried, and failed, and then word got out? And if she was to have a child…
It was silly to let such things worry her. Not now, when finally she and Dorian were so close to being on the same page. But a coldness slowly started to seep through her body and she shuddered as if from a chill.
“Have you see my husband today?” Penelope asked.
“Not, Your Grace. I assumed you would know where he was.”
“I…” She turned again, searching for Dorian, finding him nowhere. Why was he not here? Had he too come to understand what Henrietta was saying?
Penelope did not want to make things harder for Dorian. And she certainly did not want to make things worse for Barbara. But is that what she was doing? By reinserting herself into their lives, was she set to ruin everything?
“I should go,” Henrietta said suddenly, pushing back her chair.
“Oh… yes…”
“And good luck…” For the first time, she wasn’t smiling. In fact, worry crossed her face, a sense that she wanted to say something else. It was subtle, but her eyes then flicked across the ballroom, widened as if from panic, and looked away. “I will… later…” She put her head down and fled.
Penelope watched her go, finding that she hurried to the corner of the ballroom where her father stood waiting. They spoke in hushed whispered, Henrietta with her head bowed, her father speaking sharply by the looks of things. Very strange…
But not what had Penelope so worried.
That was saved for Dorian and her marriage. One she wanted to pursue but now wondered if it was worth the cost. Her own happiness for the sake of his and Barbara’s? To risk ruining their lives on the off chance that she might finally find that purpose she was so desperate for.
It was an impossible question to answer, and Penelope could not fathom how she might come to do so. She needed to speak with Dorian again… about what? What she might say? How she might frame such worry? She did not have a clue.