Chapter Twenty-Six

T he banns had been read for the third and final time when he received a letter from his sister, Cecily.

He and Lady Penelope could now legally be wed, and the date was set for just over a month hence.

She had sent it with an urgent messenger, and he ripped the envelope open, feeling rather anxious about the news it must contain. Had something happened to one of his sisters, or his aunt? Although he had not seen her himself in a few years, he knew from his sisters’ reports that she was growing more elderly.

But he was rather surprised to find that the letter did not contain news of some injury or death – but news of his betrothed.

And he hadn't even thought they would have heard that he was to wed.

Dearest brother , the letter read. I will not pretend to understand why you have not informed us of your impending nuptials, or why you have not called us home to attend your wedding. But what I must tell you is that I have met Lady Penelope, and she has apprised me of everything that has happened between you.

Whilst I was indeed surprised by her tale, I am convinced that she is a good, kind lady who made a mistake and wishes to rectify it.

The Duke clicked his teeth in disgust. He had agreed to marry Penelope – so why was she going to his sister and telling her all about his foolish decision to allow her to stay at Dunloch Castle? And now it seemed his sister was trying to intervene on her behalf, to improve the relationship between them before they were wed.

Well, it would not work.

But the letter did not end there, and although James was irritated, he could not help but read to the end.

To this end, I must tell you of a good deed that Lady Penelope has performed. She did so, I believe, with the intention of proving to you that she can be trusted and that she wants the best for our family. However, upon her success, she seemed to think you would view her involvement as meddling, and so she will not write to tell you of it herself.

But you must be made aware of the fact that, rather than meddling, your betrothed has done you, and indeed all of us, a great service.

Rather intrigued, James sat at his desk to finish the letter, which he thought might have been the longest Cecily had written him in many years.

I shall not commit all to paper in case it falls into the wrong hands. But suffice it to say, Antonia was close to making a grave decision which would have impacted the rest of our lives. Only your bride-to-be's timely and brave intervention saved her from herself.

I will explain more in person. But I would encourage you, if you think you could forgive Lady Penelope her errors, to come to London and to make things right.

You are an excellent Duke of Dunloch, and she will be a wonderful Duchess. But sometimes, brother, I do think you should remember that there is more to life than the duty you were born with.

All my love, your devoted sister, Cecily.

He reread the letter twice, surprised every time by the wisdom and maturity of the words written in his sister's hand.

When had she stopped being such a silly and vapid girl?

Could it be true that Penelope had acted to save his sister's reputation in some way? Although he was glad his sister had not written down any details, he did wish he knew what the situation was – and why they had not come to him over it. And what on earth was Lady Penelope doing in London, anyway? They were due to be wed the following month. Was she never where she was supposed to be?

He really wanted to dismiss the letter, to tell himself it was his sister being silly, plagued by female emotions that distorted her judgement.

But it stayed with him as he went about his business on the estate that day, and long into the night, when he found he could not sleep.

Had he been too quick to dismiss Lady Penelope as untrustworthy?

She had done something foolish, and she had apologised. Could she really have gone all the way to London in order to make things right? And Cecily spoke of bravery – just what exactly had she done to save Antonia's reputation? He hoped she had not put herself in any danger, for the thought of her being hurt made him feel far more uncomfortable than he would have imagined.

Could his younger sister have a point? Should he try to forgive Lady Penelope and live with her in a real marriage?

It had, after all, been his plan before he had learnt of her deception. When he simply thought that she had rediscovered that she was the daughter of an earl, he had proposed marriage, with no thought of sending her to live away somewhere else.

And he allowed himself now to imagine a world in which that was the case. Where they said their vows surrounded by close family and returned home to Dunloch Castle. To live together in a similar way to how they had in those five days – except married. With no restrictions upon them. She distracted him from his work, it was true… But surely that effect would fade in time. And he had to admit to himself as he tossed and turned in bed that night, that he’d had far more fun in those five days than he had in a long time before.

Maybe… Just maybe he needed to move past her deception. Accept her apology… And see what they could have together.

◆◆◆

Penelope did not wish to attend the Dowager Duchess's ball, but her parents had accepted the invitation, based on her earlier enthusiasm, and so she had no choice.

In truth, she was feeling rather miserable. Her success in warning off Mr Benjamin Pryce had been short-lived when she had realised that telling the Duke would surely just cause him to accuse her of meddling and plotting and scheming again. She had been trying to get back in his good graces, and yet now she feared she never would. Oh, she was popular with his sister Cecily – although perhaps not so much with Antonia. And she would be the Duchess of Dunloch soon enough. But perhaps she had to accept that her punishment for her childish behaviour was to live a life separate from the Duke, at least for the beginning of their marriage. Maybe the only thing to heal this wound was time… And she ought to avoid any more silly schemes.

"This ball has come at just the right time," said her mother with a smile as she appraised Penelope's ensemble. "A perfect bon voyage to society before we make the journey to Scotland for your nuptials."

Penelope hoped her smile looked like that of a nervous and excited bride, and not of a woman who knew that her fate was sealed.

"You will be the talk of the Season, you know. Especially with a brief appearance before making your debut next year as the Duchess of Dunloch." She clapped her hands together in glee. "Oh, what a marvellous year it has been. Lady Fitzgerald was very complimentary of you, you know. And who knows, by this time next year, perhaps there will be a future duke in the cradle of Dunloch Castle!"

It was so hard to keep a smile on her face when she felt like her heart was breaking. In a year’s time, she would surely be sequestered somewhere in the country, having not seen her husband in goodness knew how long. Those days at Dunloch, before she had admitted everything, stuck in her mind like a beautiful dream. A dream that she would have to hold on to after she was married, in the hopes that they could one day fix what she had broken.