Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

T he journey from the small nunnery in Scotland all the way to London was painstakingly long and even more painfully silent, for Penelope knew that her parents would not divulge anything more than they had already said.

"Is no one going to tell me anything?" Penelope asked, incredulous at the silence that reigned inside the carriage.

"This is neither the time nor the place for that conversation, Penelope," her father spoke sternly.

"Why not?" she asked stubbornly. "You come for me after all this time, you demand I come home, you tell me that I am to get married, and you refuse to say even to whom. I… I don't understand…"

"You are not here to understand," her father reminded her of her place in their family. "You are to do as you are told which, up until this point, hasn't been a very successful endeavor. Now, be quiet. It is going to be a long journey, and I would prefer to undertake it in peace."

Upon those words, her father turned his head away from her, signaling that their conversation had come to an end, at least for the time being. As she gazed at the dark night that stretched around them, threatening to swallow the entire world, Penelope wondered what fate would befall her now.

She had no idea when she dozed off. In any case, it was for the better. Her parents refused to look at her, but they also refused to look at each other, as if ashamed of something even between themselves. Penelope had never seen them like that. At least they had always been a united front against her. Now, it was every man for himself. She had no idea whether that was better or worse.

When she opened her eyes, she started to recognize the familiar sights of London. She could not help but smile, listening to the murmur of a familiar dialect, the language she grew up with, the streets she walked through. She knew that she was returning to them as a stranger, but still, there lingered inside of her a sense of welcoming, and she relished it. Finally, the carriage passed through a familiar gate, the gravel crackling underneath the horses' hooves, and then, it came to a halt.

"Is she here?" a voice echoed in the distance. As she was still in the carriage, she could not see who it belonged to. Patiently, she waited for her father to get out of the carriage. He helped his wife first, and Penelope scolded herself for hoping that he would extend the same hand of help to her as well. He did not.

Penelope exited the carriage on her own, and before she could breathe a single gasp of London air properly, someone's arms wrapped around her, welcoming her into an embrace. The moment Penelope inhaled the person's scent, she knew it was Adeline. She always preferred those rare perfumes with a hint of orange.

"I cannot believe you are really here!" Adeline pulled away, her face radiant with youth and vitality, and her eyes bright with joy and excitement. "Let me take a look at you!"

Penelope was left speechless. Adeline's features, though familiar, bore the mark of time passed since their last meeting. Her once childish face had matured into delicate beauty, framed by cascading waves of chestnut hair that danced around her shoulders. A warm smile played upon her lips, dimples appearing with every grin.

She was dressed in a simple yet elegant gown, the fabric draping gracefully over her slender frame, accentuating her youthful charm. Penelope immediately felt ashamed of her oblate garments as she had only those to wear. The thought occurred to her only then. Her parents had come for her, but they did not even think to prepare some traveling clothes for her. Penelope wrapped her arms around her chest, feeling almost naked and beyond disgraced.

She smiled at Adeline, not wanting to appear rude. "It is lovely to see you, Adeline. You look… beautiful."

"And you…" Adeline tried the same compliment, but it was difficult to compliment a nun — or an oblate like her, at least — wrapped up in shapeless, bland-colored clothes. "You must be tired from the journey. Come." She grabbed Penelope by the hand, pulling her into the house. "We will go to your chamber and find you the most beautiful gown there is!"

Penelope doubted that she possessed such an item, but her mind was unbothered by that. It was something else that was missing.

"And Vanessa?" Penelope looked around as she was being dragged into the house that held so many bad memories for her.

Instead of Adeline, her father replied, catching up with them, "You may have half an hour to freshen up. Then, we shall all meet for tea in the parlor and discuss… things."

Nothing was a discussion with her parents, and there was no exception to the rule. Still, she hoped that Adeline knew something, so she merely nodded and rushed after Adeline in an effort to leave her parents behind, at least behind a closed door if further away was not possible.

Just as she thought, Penelope did feel better behind a closed door. She could breathe properly again as she turned around what used to be her chamber all those years ago. She smiled at the little things left untouched with a gentle layer of dust covering her vanity table, the dresser, and the chair in the corner, almost as if that chamber was purposely left untended. Penelope did not mind. Not anymore.

She turned to Adeline with a smile. "I am honestly surprised that Mother and Father did not turn this room into another library or something of the sort."

Adeline looked down at her feet then her lips pouted ever so slightly before she spoke. "Father wanted to, but I asked him not to. I… I was always hoping you would come back."

Penelope's heart almost broke. She walked over to her sister and caressed her cheek. Their parents both had that favorite child, and they did not even try to hide it. Mother had preferred Vanessa, who resembled her in every manner a child resembled its mother. Father, on the other hand, had chosen little Adeline, for she was the most obedient one; the most malleable. That left Penelope in the middle. No one's child.

"Thank you," Penelope replied, "for keeping all of this for me."

"I would never let them turn it into anything other than what it is, Penelope, and that is your room."

Penelope sighed. "I am afraid it will not be my room for much longer as it seems I am to get married."

Adeline seemed slightly confused at the comment, but she did not say anything. Instead, she hastily walked over to the window and opened it. "To let some fresh air in," she exclaimed. "It is a lovely morning."

"It is," Penelope agreed, turning to her. "Now, will you tell me why everyone is avoiding questions about Vanessa?" She paused for a moment, gripped by a sister's worst fear. "Has something happened to her?"

Adeline's eyes immediately widened in shock. Her lips parted, but no words flowed. It was obvious that she was having a battle with her own self, whether or not she should speak.

"Adeline, please," Penelope spoke tenderly. "I have been kept in the dark from the moment Mother and Father came for me. First, they tell me I am to marry someone I have never met. And then, I return home to find that one of my two sisters is missing. Please… tell me what this is all about."

"Oh, Penelope," Adeline spoke, her words weighing a ton as she spoke them. "Vanessa is not here. Vanessa has… run away."

" Run away? " It was Penelope's turn to become paralyzed with shock.

She could not imagine their mother's perfect daughter doing something so dreadfully shameful to the family such as running away.

"With a man?" Penelope asked for more clarification.

"No, no, it is… the opposite."

"The opposite?" Penelope exclaimed. "I do not understand…"

"Vanessa ran away exactly because she did not want to marry that cold duke Father had chosen for her," Adeline clarified.

"That duke?" Penelope echoed, trying to put pieces together, but some were still missing. "No, no. I must find out this instant."

Without any other word of explanation, she rushed out of her chamber and headed to the parlor. She barged in through the door, finding her mother seated comfortably in an armchair, but it was her father who was pacing about the room nervously like a caged animal. Both of them lifted their gazes, turning them in her direction.

Trembling with fear, as she had never spoken to her parents in such a manner, Penelope stood before them, demanding an explanation. "Vanessa is gone? And there is a duke that she was supposed to marry? What is the meaning of all of this?"

Her parents exchanged a meaningful glance then her father took over. "Well, it is very simple, really," he said, speaking slowly and carefully selecting his words. "You are to take Vanessa's place and marry the Duke of Huntington."

Penelope felt as if an avalanche had swallowed her whole, pressing onto her chest, tightening its grip every time she tried to inhale. She could not speak at first, hoping that it was nothing but a bad dream and that she would wake up in her old room in the nunnery, welcomed by the sight of barren walls and dark halls. But no matter how hard she was pinching her hand, she would not wake up. Her reality stubbornly refused to change to the lesser of the two evils. She remained locked up in this one.

"You have brought me back to take the place of my sister in marriage?" she finally managed to speak, and all she could do was reiterate the same thing her father had just told her.

"Yes," her father said calmly, with a single nod. "We need this wedding to take place as it opens up business opportunities beyond our wildest dreams. So, you will be doing it for the family, Penelope."

"But I am to become a nun in a matter of days," Penelope exclaimed desperately.

Her father shook his head. "You were, Penelope. Now, you are to become the duke's wife. And I must say, there are far worse things in life to be condemned to than becoming a duchess, you know. Perhaps you ought to think how fortunate you are."

"Fortunate?" Penelope gasped, feeling as if someone had struck her, expelling all the air out of her body.

"Yes, fortunate," her father continued, choosing to ignore her silent protests. "We would have chosen Adeline as a more… fitting substitute, but unfortunately, she is too young, and the duke would know immediately that there is something amiss since he is well aware of Vanessa's age. Fortunately, Vanessa is only two years older than you, so that will not matter."

"Wait," Penelope frowned, as another realization dawned on her, "do you expect me to live my life as Vanessa and lie to the duke for the rest of our lives together?"

Her father hesitated only for a moment before replying. "No, of course not. Just until the wedding."

"And when is the wedding?"

"Oh, it is to take place this Saturday."

This Saturday meant that there were exactly three days until the moment that she would look a stranger in the eye and divulge that she was not her sister.

"But you will meet him the day before that," her father suddenly added, shocking her yet again. "We have managed to delay the meeting with everything that has happened until the last possible moment. We could not allow the duke to change his mind, thinking that we were not serious about this marriage which I assure you, Penelope, we are. That is why you are here."

Penelope swallowed heavily, knowing that she would not be able to escape the fate that her parents had written for her. She was never able to. Just like she was sent off to Scotland to a nunnery, far away from everything and everyone she had ever known, now she would be sent off into the arms of a stranger of whom she knew nothing. And, as always, she was expected to obey with a smile.

That was when her mother put down the embroidery hoop she was holding in her hand, as if the conversation had just gotten interesting for her.

"Think of it as your way to undo all the wrongs you have ever done, child," her mother spoke softly but not tenderly.

Tenderness was reserved for Vanessa, who would receive it upon her return, no doubt, despite her transgressions. "You can be there for your family when we need you the most. Show us that you care about us."

Penelope felt an onslaught of tears, but she fought them bravely. She promised herself a long time ago that she would never again cry in front of any member of her family. And this would not be the day that she broke that vow. Biting the inside of her cheek furiously in an effort to displace the pain from the mental realm onto the physical, she managed to control her tears. They remained unshed, allowing her a single moment to end the conversation and retire to her chamber.

"I will do as you bid," she concluded, turning around and rushing out of the parlor.

Hot tears streamed down her face as she ran back to her chamber, closing the door behind herself and resting upon it with the entire weight of her body, as if they might break in after her and demand more of her — more of her heart and soul — until there was nothing else to give.