Page 8 of An Offer By the Beastly Duke

His blonde hair was getting grayer with each visit, and as much as Penelope loathed his company, he was her only hope of keeping the late Earl’s estates until Nicholas came of age.

“Lady Romwich,” Charles crooned, overly charming. He took Penelope’s hand, his grip lingering for just a moment too long. “It’s good to see you out, my dear. Quite a charming gathering, would you not agree?”

Penelope felt a flash of discomfort when his hand brushed too close to her wrist, and she couldn’t suppress the flinch that ran through her.

“Of course,” she said with a tight smile. “It is a lovely day.”

“The countryside seems to be doing you well.” His gaze roamed over her, his fingers finally dropping from her wrist. “It is a shame my brother cannot see the flush your cheeks. Most pretty.”

Penelope winced. “Thank you, though it was necessary to come here, as you know. It is strange to see you out of London, I must say, for a mere garden party.”

“Well, when I heard you would be in attendance, I could not pass up the chance for a little greeting. After all, you have not answered any of my correspondence as of late.”

“We have been assisting her integration into the countryside’s social scene,” Amelia jumped in quickly to save Penelope from making up an excuse. Amelia’s wasn’t entirely untrue.

At that, Charles’ gaze slid to Amelia, his lip curling. “Amelia,” he greeted coldly.

Her smile was frigid. “Charles.”

The two had met occasionally when the families had dined together, but Amelia knew Penelope’s distaste for the man, and had her own similar opinion.

“And Lady Violet.” He bowed to Penelope’s friend. “I trust you are following your mother’s footsteps with your societal position. Your popularity will make your future husband most happy one day, should your father finally approve a match for you.”

Violet’s smile turned into a grimace. “My father is ensuring I have a perfect husband, Mr. Cadden.”

“Or perhaps he is just reluctant to let you out into the world, fearing losing his precious daughter who entices the men he can do business with. It is all a game in this society, no?”

“Charles,” Penelope interrupted. “I believe your associates are looking for you.” She nodded to where the group of men he had been standing with were looking in their direction.

Likely, they were either judging Penelope or eyeing up Violet.

Charles paid them no mind, turning his sharp gaze back onto Penelope. “I was hoping we might have a private word. There are a few matters to discuss regarding Nicholas’s future and the estate.”

Penelope’s heart skipped a beat.

Nicholas’s future.

She could already guess what he was about to say.

Charles had been pushing her to let him take a more active role in her son’s life ever since the former Earl of Romwich had died. But Penelope knew exactly who Charles was: a man who cared only for his own advancement, a man who would use her son as a pawn to solidify his control over the estate.

Before she could decline, Violet stepped forward, linking her arm through Penelope’s elbow.

“As much as I am certain Penelope would love to speak with you, I did promise her a go at Pall Mall.”

“I am certain Lady Romwich can decide for herself,” Charles noted with a raised brow. “Penelope?”

“I also wished to take a turn around the rose garden with you,” Amelia said, trying her own excuse to get Penelope out of the private chat.

“Indeed,” Penelope said, backing away. “We did have plans, Charles, so not right⁠—”

Charles moved closer to her, his head bending low to her face. “Do not deny me, Penelope, not after you have ignored my other attempts at contact.”

“Charles.” She winced at his closeness.

“Now, now,” he purred, threat dripping in his voice, “no need to make a scene. Your friends can wait a moment for you, can they not? We will talk, and then you can return to your frivolous, little activities you women do.”

Penelope chewed the inside of her cheek before sighing and nodded. She glanced back at Violet and Amelia.