Page 6 of Unmasked

Heading for the door, I opened the barrier watching heads turn in my direction. For seconds no one moved, almost as if they couldn’t believe what they were seeing. Some pushed from their vehicles. Others stood taller. As I walked down the stairs, they all headed in my direction at a steady pace. My men quickly created space so they couldn’t get too close.

“Penelope—!”

“Where have you been?”

I glanced over as they tried to stay close but even.

“Away.”

“Are you safe now?”

I turned my stare forward. “I am.”

“Is it true you were under house arrest?”

“Did you truly reject the king’s invitations to visit?”

“Are you afraid your captor will return?”

“I have full confidence in my security team.”

The press glanced at my men, continuing with their questions. I let them pile up, scanning the surroundings ahead. I watched windows. I took in the vehicles. I tuned into the energy of those at my back.

As we approached the bakery, I memorized the couple leaving through the door. I counted their steps. I took in pace. The colors of clothing. Even as I headed through the door, I analyzed the stunned face of Mr. Marker, the baker, and his son and cashier, Connor. Connor was my age. I’d known them for years, and yet they looked at me not like a stranger, but of someone new.

Silence.

The weight didn’t affect me when before I would have squirmed under the pressure. I took my time, finally pointing to muffins and biscuits behind the glass.

“I’ll take a dozen of those and those.”

“Of course, Ms. Taylor.” Mr. Marker grabbed a box, pausing as he met my gaze for only a moment. “It’s good to have you back, Ms. Taylor. Very good. Our condolences on your parents.”

“Thank you. It’s good to be back.”

The tension eased a little, and he gave the box to Connor. I stepped forward, opening my purse to pay.

“Please, allow me.” Connor placed the box on the counter, easing it in my direction. “We really were worried about you. I’m glad you’re finally home.”

A smile eased onto my face—genuine, soft.

“Thank you, Connor. That means a lot. It’s good to be home.” I lifted the box, turning back to see more reporters outside than before. Any traces of a smile faded, and Kip came forward, opening the door, only to fall back in position as we headed through.

The questions came.

The excitement amongst them rose.

I studied.

Not who was around me, but to those who might not want to come forward. Not the reporters… the cameramen. The journalists taking notes but not speaking.

I felt something… Something I couldn’t explain.

Eyes—Intention—Hunted?

“Penelope, can you tell us where you’ve been for the last year?

“Is the rumor true that you’re dating the barrister, Theodore Hart?