Chapter 18

"May I?" James' grandfather lingered in the doorway to James' study the following morning, just as James sat alone, the weight of his troubled thoughts pressing heavily upon him.

"Of course," James nodded, gesturing at his grandfather to come in. He would welcome the distraction. "Is something the matter?"

His grandfather adjusted himself in the opposite chair, eyed James for a few moments, then asked, "I was going to ask you the very same question." His voice was filled with genuine concern as he did so.

James forced a tight-lipped smile, attempting to brush off his grandfather's worries. "It is nothing, Grandfather. Just a restless night causing me to feel a little tired, that's all."

But his grandfather wasn't so easily fooled. With a knowing look, he leaned back into his chair, his gaze steady as he waited for an honest answer. He didn't ask anything. He merely waited. And that was more than enough as James started to squirm in his chair, fighting the urge to tell his grandfather everything. He didn't want to complain or to worry him unnecessarily.

However, after a moment of hesitation, James finally relented, the words tumbling from his lips in a rush of pent-up emotion. "It's Penelope," he admitted. "I fear she's angry with me though I can't for the life of me understand why."

His grandfather listened in silence, his expression thoughtful as he absorbed James' words. "And have you spoken to her about it?" he asked gently, his voice a comforting presence in the quiet of the room.

James shook his head, a sense of guilt gnawing at his insides. "No, I haven't. I wanted to, last night when we returned home, but she was being so cold and distant, so I decided not to push the matter until she was ready to talk to me about it."

"Cold and distant?" he pondered, patting his chin with his index finger. "Well, that's odd."

"What is?" James asked.

"Well, as it happened, I was close by last night when a group of young ladies approached Penelope, inquiring about you," his grandfather spoke slowly, and James couldn't wait to hear the rest of the monologue. Still, he forced himself to remain quiet and listened intently. "They were rather… vicious, I must say. I was on the verge of interfering and taking her away from them when she surprised me beyond belief!"

"Surprised you?" James couldn't remain quiet. He was eager to know more. "What happened, Grandfather?"

"Yes, surprised me more than anyone has in a long time," Grandfather nodded importantly, leaning forward as he spoke. "You see, those ladies started to tell her rumors that have been circling about your parents and sister, hinting at…"

"Me being the one who did it," James said through clenched teeth, realizing that his grandfather didn't want to say those words out loud. They had had that conversation far too many times to count, and there was no need to have it again. Still, it seemed that the ton simply refused to let it go. "I know."

Although he knew all about this theory that had been circling for years, it was still as painful as it was the first time he heard it. He couldn't understand how anyone could be so devoid of any emotion as to spread such a malicious rumor. A boy being responsible for the death of both his parents and his younger sister just because he was not home when it all happened, and he was the one who found them.

"What happened then?" James asked, almost breathlessly.

A million questions started to swarm inside his mind. And there was not a single answer.

"She defended you," his grandfather said simply with a victorious smile on his face.

"She… what?" James could not believe it.

"Yes," his grandfather nodded. "She defended you. She said she refused to believe in rumors, and, I must say, she made them feel an inch tall. Clever girl."

As James absorbed his grandfather's words, a flicker of surprise and disbelief danced across his features. "Penelope defended me?" he echoed, his voice tinged with astonishment. He still couldn't believe it.

His grandfather just nodded one more time. No other words were necessary. James' mind reeled at the revelation, a tumult of conflicting emotions swirling within him. He had never doubted Penelope's loyalty or integrity, but to hear that she had stood up for him in the face of such adversity filled him with a profound sense of gratitude and admiration. She had no prior knowledge of any of that, so her willingness to remain on his side was purely out of loyalty to him. Loyalty and he hoped something else.

"I... I had no idea," James admitted, his voice soft with awe. "I never would have expected her to take such a bold stance on my behalf."

His grandfather offered a reassuring smile, his eyes warm with pride. "It seems you have chosen wisely, my boy," he said, his voice filled with quiet satisfaction. "Penelope's loyalty and strength of character are clear for all to see."

James thought about it for a moment. "But… why was she so cold and distant with me? I don't understand…"

His grandfather inhaled deeply. "Perhaps it was all shocking to her. It is a lot to handle, after all. Perhaps she even feels a little offended that you haven't mentioned it to her yet."

"I wanted to tell her," James felt guilty. "I… I just wanted her to get to know me first before she got to know my demons."

"They are not your demons, James," his grandfather spoke tenderly. "That is your past. And that was your family. We can choose neither. As for the demons, those belong to your late father, not to you. You aren't your father, and you never will be. Have no fear of that, my boy."

"I can't believe that even in death, he is still haunting me," James spoke, feeling his heart break for his mother, for his sister, for them all. "It is not enough that he ruined all our lives, but he has to keep ruining them even now."

"Don't let him," his grandfather suggested wisely.

"How?" James wanted to know. "How do I do that?"

His grandfather regarded him with a steady gaze, his eyes filled with wisdom born of years of experience. "My boy, sometimes the hardest conversations are the ones most worth having," he said softly. "You have to speak to Penelope. You have to answer every single question she has. You said you wanted her to get to know you first. Well, this is how she will do that. She will see beyond the picture of the man you are projecting to everyone. She will see you for who you are."

"What if she doesn't like what she sees?" James shuddered at the thought.

"Then, she is not the one for you…"

That was exactly what James had been afraid of. Penelope was unlike anyone he had ever met. He was now convinced that fate brought them together. Otherwise, he would have been married to her sister as was supposed to have taken place.

"I will speak with her when the time is right," he said resolutely, hoping that the truth would set him free. However, he would not open up yet. He couldn't. He would simply ask her to trust him if she still could.

* * *

As Penelope stepped into the dining hall, her breath caught in her throat at the sight that greeted her, a table set for a romantic dinner for two, bathed in the soft glow of candlelight.

"What is all this?" she asked.

The polished wooden table was adorned with an exquisite linen tablecloth, its pristine surface reflecting the flickering light. Delicate porcelain plates gleamed, and at the center of the table was a lavish floral centerpiece, a breathtaking display of vibrant blooms that perfumed the air with their sweet fragrance.

"I didn't know which ones you liked the most," she heard him say. Strangely enough, he sounded a little confused. He had obviously noticed her gazing at the flowers. "I picked roses, lilies, and jasmine."

"You… picked these flowers?" she asked incredulously.

"I did," he said then admitted. "But your lady's maid helped."

"Charlotte," Penelope replied back. "She is so sweet."

"Yes, very helpful," he nodded, walking over to her and pulling out a chair so she could take a seat. "Please."

She sat down immediately, noticing that he had gone to great lengths to arrange this. She was washed over by sudden tenderness for him although the memory of what she had learned still lingered in her mind, clouding her judgment. "Grandfather will be joining us?"

"No, he uhm… asked to have his dinner in his room," he clarified.

"And miss telling his stories?" she asked playfully. "I somehow doubt that."

"Well, he understands why I did this."

"And why did you do this?" she asked, although she had a pretty good idea.

"You heard some things about me," he noted, taking a seat opposite her.

She swallowed heavily. "I did."

"And now, you are… confused," he tried to clarify.

"A little, yes," she admitted. She had been afraid of this conversation, but seeing that he was as awkward about it as she was made her feel at ease. It made her feel hopeful that they would somehow manage to find common ground, despite everything.

"I promise to tell you everything when we are both ready for that," he assured her. "But I want you to believe me when I tell you that I am not the man they think I am. What you see before you… this man… that is who I am."

She suddenly felt that rush of heat at seeing him like this. She wanted him to know that she appreciated all of this, all of what he had done for her, and she would wait for him to feel comfortable enough to share his deepest secrets with her.

"So, James," she began with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, wanting to make them both feel more at ease, "do you always go to such lengths to impress a lady?"

James chuckled. She was relieved to see that things were slowly returning to the way they were before between them. "Only for the most extraordinary of ladies," he replied with a charming smile, the one she could not resist.

Penelope raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk dancing across her lips. "Ah, so you are saying that I am extraordinary?" she quipped, her tone playful and inviting.

James feigned a look of exaggerated astonishment, his hand pressed to his chest in mock indignation. "Of course, my dear," he replied with a dramatic flourish. "I do believe you are slightly clumsy, but that only adds to your charm."

"Clumsy?" Now, it was her turn to feign being shocked. "You're the one to talk. I've seen you stumble over your own feet more times than I can count."

James feigned a look of wounded pride. "I'll have you know that I am the epitome of grace and poise," he declared. "It is not my fault the ground simply can't handle my sheer magnificence."

They laughed at the same time, their laughter echoing through the dining hall. Once again, she felt that sense of ease and comfort, and she completely forgot about what happened at the ball. It didn't matter any longer. She trusted him.

"Actually, I do believe you are quite extraordinary even while being clumsy. Why else would I go to such great lengths?"

She laughed, eyeing him. "Maybe to hide the fact that you are a true gentleman?"

"Me?" he echoed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. With a playful grin, he rose from his seat, determination evident in his movements. "Oh, but my dear Penelope," he retorted with mock seriousness, "I fear you've underestimated just how ungentlemanly I can be."

Before she could protest or even react, he swiftly closed the distance between them. With a swift, practiced motion, he scooped her up into his arms, her laughter ringing out like music in the air.

"What on earth are you doing?" she gasped in surprise, giggles bubbling forth uncontrollably as he twirled her around the room, their laughter mingling in a symphony of joy. As they danced and twirled, their movements were anything but gentlemanly and lady-like, and it was exactly how she wanted it to be.

"Proving a point," he replied through the onslaught of laughter.

As he gently lowered her back to her feet, their breaths mingling in the air between them, a charged silence enveloped them like a warm embrace. Their eyes locked in an unspoken understanding, the intensity of their connection tangible.

In that sizzling moment, James leaned in, his lips capturing Penelope's in a fervent kiss that seemed to deepen with each passing moment, and Penelope knew this was a kiss that would not end like the others.