Chapter 25

As the days passed, the weight of worry settled like a heavy fog over Penelope's heart, refusing to dissipate no matter how hard she tried to shake it off. Each morning brought with it the same sense of unease, the same gnawing fear that she had done something wrong.

Despite her best efforts to maintain a fa?ade of composure, the strain of her worry began to show, etching lines of concern upon her brow and casting shadows beneath her eyes. Her once-bright laughter grew dim, replaced by a somber silence that hung heavy in the air like a shroud.

In the quiet solitude of her chamber, she wrestled with her fears, her thoughts consumed by the unanswered questions that plagued her soul. What could be troubling her husband so deeply? And why did he continue to shut her out, refusing to share the burden that weighed so heavily upon his heart?

Amidst the heavy atmosphere of worry that had settled over the estate, a welcome ray of light pierced through the gloom as Penelope's sister arrived for an unexpected visit. The sound of carriage wheels crunching against gravel heralded her arrival, stirring the household from its somber reverie with a renewed sense of anticipation.

"Adeline!" Penelope exclaimed from one of the windows, waving at her sister. "I am coming down momentarily!"

Here, at last, was a familiar face, a comforting presence amidst the turmoil that had engulfed her world in recent days. With eager strides, Penelope rushed forward to greet her sister, enveloping her in a warm embrace that spoke volumes of the depth of their bond. Tears welled in her eyes as she held her sister close, grateful for the fleeting moment of respite that her presence brought.

"I am so glad you are here," she murmured against Adeline's neck. "How I've missed you."

Adeline returned the embrace with equal fervor, her own eyes shining with unshed tears. "And I you, my dear Penelope," she replied, her voice soft with affection. "I decided to come as soon as I received your letter, without even writing back. I do hope you don't mind."

"Mind?" Penelope asked, shaking her head. "You could not have found a better way to surprise me, dear Adeline. Come, let us go inside, and we shall share a nice cup of warm tea."

They settled in the quiet sanctuary of the drawing room with Penelope well aware that Grandfather might join them at any moment. But she didn't mind his presence. In fact, he was still assuring her that James was simply busy with work. James had been telling her that himself. However, she knew that wasn't the truth. Why were they both lying to her? She couldn't understand.

Once the tea was served, Adeline turned to her sister. "I can see that something is really troubling you, Penelope. Please, tell me all about it. You know you can confide in me."

Penelope swallowed heavily as she looked into her sister's compassionate gaze, finding solace in the warmth of her presence. With a heavy sigh, she began to recount the events of the previous few days, her words tumbling forth in a rush of pent-up emotion.

"It's James," she confessed, her voice trembling with sorrow. "I can't understand what happened. You see, everything was fine up until a few days ago. We were getting closer, and he was preparing all these lovely surprises for me. Then suddenly, one morning, out of the blue, he became distant and detached, and I can't shake this feeling that something is terribly wrong. No matter how hard I try to reach out to him, he remains closed off, refusing to share his troubles with me."

"Is he mean to you?" Adeline asked cautiously.

"Oh, no, no, by no means," Penelope assured her. "He is still very kind and I suppose, even attentive. I still have fresh flowers waiting for me every morning, but he doesn't spend time with me anymore. I fear that I must have done something to upset him."

"I sincerely doubt that," Adeline assured her, her voice soft with sympathy. "You mustn't blame yourself for his troubles. Sometimes, the burdens we carry are too heavy to share, even with those who are closest to us."

Penelope shook her head, her sorrow etched upon her features like lines upon a weathered parchment. "I can't help but worry for him," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I fear that whatever troubles him may drive us further apart."

"I'm sure that won't happen," Adeline tried to reassure her, but Penelope knew better.

"We were just becoming closer," Penelope confided. "I simply can't understand what happened."

Penelope got up from her chair and started to pace about the room nervously, like a caged animal. She could barely keep herself seated. She needed to move, to get all that stress out of herself somehow. But the only way to relieve all that stress was for James to go back to the way he was, to the man she had grown to care for deeply.

"To see him withdraw from me like this, to shut me out of his troubles… it wounds me deeply."

Adeline listened in silent understanding. "I know, my dear sister," she murmured softly. "It is natural to feel hurt when someone pushes us away, especially when we long to be there for them."

Penelope's grief threatened to overwhelm her fragile composure. "I just want to help him," she whispered. "To share his burdens, to ease his pain. But he refuses to let me in."

Adeline got up and walked over to her sister, embracing her tightly. They remained like that, embracing, for a long time with neither of them wanting to break the bond that had been forged between them. Not in a million years could Penelope hope that someone in her family would love her this much to be there for her; to offer words of solace and love. Her mother and father had never provided her with any of that. She never knew the real meaning of parental love, and she had simply learned to live without it. Then she believed she would be without sisterly love as well, but Adeline had proved her wrong.

"I am so happy you are here," Penelope gushed, once she broke their hug.

"I am, too," Adeline replied, squeezing her hand reassuringly. "And whatever is happening to the duke, I am certain that he will share it with you eventually. I mean, I don't know much about men, but I've heard they are like that, strange creatures who shut themselves off and solve their problems on their own, not wishing to trouble anyone else with them."

"Oh, I do hope you are right," Penelope sighed. "Because I could see myself being very happy with him… I mean, before all this happened."

"This is nothing," Adeline continued to be optimistic. "Just a minor… setback which isn't even a setback at all. You just see it as such. I'm sure that this time next week, you will be talking as if nothing had happened, laughing about this."

Penelope frowned. "I'm not really certain about that, Adeline."

"Trust me," Adeline urged.

Penelope sighed again, deciding to change the topic. "But do tell me about yourself, my dear Adeline. What has been happening with you? And what about Mother and Father?"

She wasn't particularly interested in what was happening with either her mother or her father. After all, they had thrown her in that nunnery, leaving her without a word for five whole years. She had learned to live without them a long time ago. As any dutiful child, she didn't bear any ill will against them, but they had lost their status as her mother and father a long time ago. Still, it was courteous of her to ask, so she did it out of mere politeness, nothing else.

Soon enough, speaking with her little sister somehow eased Penelope. With each passing moment, the heavy weight of worry began to lift from Penelope's heart, replaced by a sense of warmth and belonging in the presence of her beloved sister. They laughed together, their voices mingling like music in the quiet sanctuary of the estate, chasing away the shadows that had haunted their thoughts for far too long.

"Don't worry," Adeline said one last time as they were ready to bid each other goodbye. "Everything will be fine. Just… give him some time, but make sure he knows you are here, if he needs you."

Penelope inhaled deeply. She had no idea how to go about doing that. She wanted to be by James' side, but she couldn't be, because he wouldn't let her. Not yet. Hopefully, that would change soon, so she needed to be ready for that moment.

"Thank you so much for coming." Penelope embraced Adeline one more time then she allowed her sister to climb into her carriage. "Send my regards to Mother and Father," she added out of sheer politeness.

This time, however, she didn't even ask about Vanessa. She felt that their older sister had now disappeared from their lives. Of course, Penelope hoped that wherever she was, she was all right. That she was safe and sound. That was all that mattered.

She waved at Adeline's departing carriage, waiting until she completely lost it out of sight. Then, she turned around and walked back into her home with a newfound sense of hope, emboldened by Adeline's words.

Perhaps, Adeline is right, she reminded herself. Maybe I just need to be a bit more patient, and James will come and find me and tell me everything he could not tell me before.