Chapter 10

In an effort not to think about how handsome and utterly ravishing her husband looked in the glow of the morning sun, Penelope decided to distract herself by writing a letter to her sister. She was sitting at her escritoire with a quill poised delicately in her hand and a sheet of fine parchment before her.

Her thoughts flowed effortlessly as she penned each word with care, her elegant handwriting a testament to her upbringing and education. With each stroke of the quill, she poured her heart into the letter, expressing her longing for her sister's company.

My dearest Adeline,

I hope this letter finds you in the best of health and spirits. Although it has not been long since I saw you last, it feels like an eternity since I have enjoyed your company. I find myself remembering your promise and yearning for your presence.

With the arrival of spring, the gardens are in full bloom and alive with the songs of birds. It would be so lovely of you to visit, so we could stroll through the breathtaking blossoms and indulge in a few quiet moments together.

Please, dear sister, consider this letter a heartfelt invitation to come and visit me at your earliest convenience. My new home is ready to welcome you with open arms, and I eagerly anticipate the joy of your company once more.

With all my love,

Your sister, Penelope

Just as she was penning out the last words, a knock on the door interrupted her. Penelope wondered who it could be.

"Yes?" she called out, and the door opened to reveal Charlotte's cheerful face.

"I apologize for the intrusion, Your Grace," she said politely, lingering in the doorway, "but I was wondering if you were perhaps in the mood for some tea or something to eat?"

Penelope smiled. "Actually, I am. How lovely of you to ask, Lottie, thank you."

Charlotte smiled back. "I am your lady's maid, Your Grace. It is my duty and privilege to look after you."

"And you are doing such a terrific job of it, I must say. Yes, some tea would be lovely, and please, bring two cups. I would love some company."

Charlotte nodded, obviously pleased. "It would be my pleasure."

About fifteen minutes later, the two ladies were seated by the open window of Penelope's chamber, enjoying the breeze as well as freshly brewed tea along with some scones with strawberry jam. As gentle clinking of porcelain filled the air, Penelope felt a sudden need to speak to Charlotte, seeing her as a friend.

"Are you close with your siblings, Lottie?" Penelope inquired, her voice soft with curiosity.

"Yes," Charlotte attested, "we are all very close. Father raised all five of us on his own, and I never got to know my mother."

"Oh," Penelope felt a tug at her heart. "I am so sorry to hear that." She wanted to ask what happened, but she was afraid that might be prying.

As if sensing the need to prolong the conversation, Charlotte continued without being prompted to. "She died in childbirth."

"Your father must have been devastated," Penelope nodded sympathetically.

"He was," Charlotte confirmed. "But instead of succumbing to despair, he poured all the love he had into me and my brothers and sisters. And I can never thank him enough for all he has done for us."

"Do you visit him often?" Penelope asked.

"Yes, we all do," Charlotte affirmed, her eyes sparkling at the mention of the man to whom she owed her life. "I get one afternoon free every week, and I go to see him. He lives nearby, so I can easily walk there in twenty minutes, spend a few hours with him, and then come back."

Penelope felt an onslaught of pain wash over her. She wondered what that felt like, to have parents, even least a single parent, who cared deeply about their child, but she was not that fortunate.

"Do you have any siblings, Your Grace?" Charlotte inquired politely.

"I do," Penelope nodded, stifling a deep, anguishing sigh. "Two sisters. One is older than me, and the other, younger."

"Are you close with them?"

That was the question Penelope feared. How could she ever explain her family situation to anyone?

"No, not really." It was Penelope's turn to smile sadly. Then, she got up and walked over to her escritoire, taking the letter into her hand and showing it to Charlotte. "I hope to rectify that. At least, with my younger sister, Adeline. Vanessa is… traveling. We do not know when she will return, so writing to her would be a futile endeavor."

"I see," Charlotte seemed to ponder. "I think your younger sister will welcome a letter from you."

Penelope liked Charlotte's cheerful outlook on life, despite her own less than cheerful circumstances. "Thank you for saying that. I appreciate it."

"Family is very precious," Charlotte said — wise words for someone so young. "If there is any chance of it, you should hold onto them for as long as you can. Because, after they are gone, you will miss all the moments you didn't have."

Penelope nodded. She agreed with every single word, only she never felt that closeness with her parents. Not even Vanessa. When she grew up, Adeline had always been there, but Adeline was younger. Adeline didn't understand as much of what had been taking place in their household. Perhaps now that she was of the age to understand, she would see, and she would decide for herself whether having a loving relationship with her sister was worth rekindling. Penelope hoped she would decide affirmatively.

Little by little, Penelope swayed the conversation to less difficult topics for them both as they exchanged interests, hobbies and pastimes.

"I have very little free time, but when I do have some, I like to do gardening," Charlotte noted. "It is something that me and my father always shared. He is too old to work in the garden now, so he mostly oversees what I do with his flowers!" Charlotte burst into a chuckle, and Penelope couldn't help but join in.

Once again, she felt that onslaught of sorrow for moments that she would never share with her own father or her mother although they were both still there, still healthy enough to partake in any activity they might wish to share in together. However, that was not to be, and Penelope tried not to be too sad about it, especially in light of her sister promising to come soon for a visit.

The two ladies continued their conversation, relishing each other's company, and Penelope was glad to be reminded that in absence of a loving family, sometimes, loving friends were more than enough.

* * *

Penelope hadn't seen James since the morning, but that didn't mean that she managed to banish him from his mind. Having breakfast with his grandfather distracted her some, and her teatime with Charlotte helped as well, but now, she found herself restless once more. Wanting to calm herself down, she found her way out to the garden.

Just as she was strolling through the perfectly manicured path, her heart quickened to see James riding back to the stables, alongside a few other men. He seemed so perfectly at ease on horseback, completely captivating her attention. She couldn't help but admire the way his muscles tensed under the fabric of his crisp, white shirt, the sunlight catching on his tousled hair as he dismounted.

She wanted to leave him be. After all, he didn't even greet her that morning. Yet, she found herself drawn to him in a way she couldn't quite explain. Perhaps it was his rugged charm or the way his eyes sparkled with warmth whenever he smiled. Whatever it was, she couldn't deny the pull he had on her.

Promising herself that she would only approach him to greet him, she headed in his direction. As she drew closer, she noticed that the other men had left the stables, and he was there alone. She watched him attentively as he began to brush down the horse, his movements fluid and purposeful. There was a quiet strength about him that she found undeniably attractive, and she couldn't help but admire the way he handled the animal with such care and skill.

"Hello," she said a little awkwardly as she approached him.

He turned around to face her. He smiled upon seeing her, his eyes lighting up in a way she wasn't expecting.

"Penelope," he said instead of a greeting. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she stood there, facing him, only then realizing just how deeply she was drawn to him. "How was your morning?"

"Lovely," she replied, watching him then the horse which obviously enjoyed the attention it was getting. "I had breakfast with your grandfather."

"Ah, yes," James grinned. "He can be… well, a handful. Perhaps I should have warned you about that."

"Handful?" she asked. "I thought he was very kind and endearing."

He frowned for a moment then his face lit up again. "He must like you then. Usually, he isn't very kind or endearing." He chuckled to his own words, delighted that she joined him.

"What about your morning?" she inquired with a curious chirp. "I was told that you do not take your breakfast in the dining hall."

"Yes, another thing I probably should have mentioned," he nodded. "I have a routine. I don't like straying from it."

"I see," she replied, wondering if she would be allowed to settle into his routine, or if she would be considered a distraction. However, she didn't have the courage to ask that question aloud.

"There were some trespassers hunting on my property," he explained. "So, I had to go and deal with them."

"How did you deal with them?" she wondered inquisitively, yearning to find out more about the man who had so suddenly and unexpectedly become her husband.

"There is only one way to deal with such people," he shrugged, petting the horse which nickered in response. "You punish them."

"Punish them?" she echoed with a disapproving frown. "But they haven't really done anything wrong."

He lifted an eyebrow, and she could see that her response amused him. Not to mention that he obviously didn't agree with her.

"They haven't?" he repeated.

"Well… no, not really," she replied with less conviction this time but still with firm belief that it wasn't a punishment-worthy crime.

"So, you think it is all right to just allow anyone on my property?" he asked then he added with a hint of mischief. "On our property?"

The fact that he called it their property didn't change her conviction. "They were just hunting."

"But on our land. Why don't they hunt somewhere else?" he asked amusedly.

"Maybe they couldn't," she suggested, painfully aware that she was losing that argument.

"Couldn't?" he chuckled. "Or didn't want to?"

"Well, what if they were hungry?" she asked, pouting slightly but enjoying their banter as much as he was.

"Hungry hunters," he mused. "They were hunting foxes, Penelope. Not hares. They hunt them for their pelts and for sport. No one really eats foxes, do they?"

"Well, no… but…" she started then bit her lower lip in confusion. Of course, he was right. She just didn't want to admit it.

He smiled, approaching her. "I can see that you have a more compassionate view than I, and it pleases me. You consider the circumstances of others. Not everyone has the capacity for that."

"I simply believe in understanding and forgiveness," she said softly, blushing a little as she spoke.

"Forgiveness," he nodded, that word bringing out a subtle flicker of some long-lost hope in his eyes. "Not everyone knows how to forgive, even though they tell you they forgive you. But in fact, it is just an empty statement while judgment is still rooted deeply in their hearts."

"I don't want to judge anyone," she assured him. "It is not my place."

He smiled at those words. He was a complex character, her husband. But strangely enough, she was only titillated to learn more about him, and she wanted to learn everything there was to know about him.

"That is why I've always preferred the company of animals to the company of people," he revealed, turning to his horse. "They don't judge. They either love you, or they don't, and they show you how they feel without hiding it."

She didn't say anything to that. That was when he turned to her and offered her the brush. "Would you like to brush him a little?"

She smiled, intrigued—although there were some animals around the abbey, Penelope was rarely allowed into the stables for fear of escaping. "Yes, please," she nodded, accepting the new assignment.

"Like this," he said, pressing his hand on hers and standing behind her so close that she could feel his hot breath spill on her neck.

A million little goosebumps ran down her back awakening every single sense in her body, making her painstakingly aware of his presence behind her and of his touch on her hand. It burned. It scorched. Yet, it felt more thrilling than anything else. Her insides were on fire, her cheeks burning a poppy red. Her knees became slightly wobbly, and she did her best to keep her balance.

"Like so?" she asked, gently stroking the animal with his hand still on hers.

A part of her thought of naughty romance novels she had only heard of with a lord and a lady rolling in the hay with her skirt lifted and his trousers pulled down, claiming each other with kisses and touches. The very thought made her blush even more fervently, and she thanked heavens that he was behind her and not in front of her.

She felt the gentle stubble of his beard against her neck, and something inside of her exploded in heat. She resisted turning around and offering her lips to him because she remembered his words. You will be begging me. He was right. She hated that he was right.

Almost as if he could read her mind, he suddenly pulled away, taking a step back. The magic of the moment was broken although she was still breathing heavily as if she had just run a race.

"Perhaps we could go riding one morning?" he asked. "Have a race?"

"Why not?" she asked, swallowing heavily, trying to focus on the horse's glistening mane.

"I shall hold you to that," he grinned, grabbing another brush and proceeding to brush the horse's tail when a servant rushed over with instructions from his grandfather to come inside.

"You go on ahead," she urged. "I shall stay here a while longer. This brushing is calming."

"It is, isn't it?" he agreed. "All right then, if you need me, I'll be back in the house."

She nodded, watching him leave until she was alone with the horse. She glanced at it, at the fathomless depth of its dark eyes, wondering how come this man she barely knew had such an undeniable effect on her.