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Her decision to go down to the kitchens to fetch herself a glass of warm milk quickly turned to something much more dangerous. Now might be the perfect time for her to get away. The duke, though he hadn’t had an exceptional amount of alcohol, had been quite merry upon their finishing dinner, and she suspected that he would sleep deeply on the small amount he had consumed.
As for the servants, they were far below in the servants' quarters, and if the townhouse was anything like the house back in France, the walls and floors would be far too thick for them to hear her creeping around so late at night while they slept.
Yet as she grabbed a cloak from the wardrobe and wrapped it around her over the chemise she wore, telling herself she could pick up a dress somewhere once she had escaped, she couldn’t help feeling a niggling sensation in her stomach that told her she might not exactly be doing the right thing.
No, the right thing would be admitting the truth and suffering the consequences no matter what they were,Penelope reminded herself, but knowing that wasn’t an option, too terrified of what Lord St Clair might do if he got his hands on her once more, she shoved a few bejewelled hairpins into her almost empty coin purse and began to creep towards the door.
There was little time, and Penelope could hear the clock ticking as if it were mocking her, reminding her that at any moment someone might wake and reveal her for the imposter she was.
Remembering that she had seen an inn through the carriage window close to the townhouse on the day Mrs Cartwright had brought her to the house, she decided that her first priority would be to get out of the house and make her way there.
Once she had secured herself a room, she could worry about what to do next.Perhaps they might even allow me to do some work for bed and board,she thought. She would have liked to have got much further from the townhouse, but what little she had left of her savings would not stretch much further, and she needed a better plan.
She reached out and, holding her breath, gently eased the bedroom door open.
Tiptoeing as silently as she could, she made it to the top of the staircase before her feet made any noise. They hit the top step of the staircase, causing the wood to creak, the sound echoing off the hall’s walls and making Penelope’s heart race.
No! No!she screamed inwardly, biting the inside of her lip to stop herself from making the exclamation aloud. Listening hard to the sounds of the old house, she did not allow herself to feel relieved when she didn’t immediately hear footsteps or alarmed voices rushing towards her.
Glancing backwards down the hall, she made sure that she wasn’t being watched before finally beginning to make her way down the staircase, careful with her footing to ensure the wood did not squeak again and that she would not stumble and fall. The last thing she needed was for them to find her lying at the bottom of the staircase in the morning.
At least, that was what she thought until, in the darkness, she stumbled right into what felt like an oddly soft brick wall. Her forehead bounced off the surface, and she spiralled backwards, her head spinning as she let out an exclamation of surprise.
In the next moment, she felt hands grip her forearms and draw her back to an upright position. They held her there even when she had found her feet once more. In the dim light cast by the moon shining through the hallway window, Penelope looked up to catch sight of chocolate brown eyes gazing down at her.
The concern that bubbled in their depths made her chest tighten, and her throat constricted at the realisation that she might well have just breathed her last breath as a free woman.
Instinctively, she stepped back, quickly and discreetly reassuring herself that her coin purse was tucked away safely in her cloak. Her feet itched to run right past the duke, to escape right out of the front door and disappear into the night before he could catch his bearings, and yet the moment he smiled, she found she was frozen to the spot.
“Lady Rose, we really must stop bumping into each other in this manner.” He smiled to her warmly, and Penelope felt her insides warming at his presence. He was a kind and welcoming man.
Still feeling the touch of his hands upon her arms although he had released her, she struggled against the urge to step forward once more and allow herself to be embraced by him, his warm, musky scent wreathed all around her, holding her firmly in place even though everything inside her was screaming at her to run before it was too late.
Still, there was a small voice inside her that said,just tell him the truth. The duke is a kind man. He shall understand.Her lips quivered, beginning to part as she sucked in breath and prepared to do just that. She was out of options.
He had caught her all over again, and with every passing minute, she felt herself digging the hole deeper and deeper. Perhaps it might be better just to tell the truth and deal with the consequences, whatever they may be.
“Your Grace, I …” she began, but the duke cut her off with words of his own.
“I suppose you can’t sleep either?” he asked with a deep sigh. “I can’t say I blame you. I am apprehensive about this entire ordeal, and so I can imagine how you must be feeling, so far away from home and so alone.”
Penelope’s stomach clenched at just how right his words were. He had hit the nail directly on the head, telling her exactly how she was feeling, and she felt herself inching towards him just slightly, not enough for him to notice but enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath upon the tip of her nose.
“My Lady, I wish to assure you,” he announced, suddenly taking hold of her hand and bringing her knuckles up to his face. He held her fingers there with both hands and looked over her knuckles at her, his eyes boring into hers, “That you shall never be alone again. I am quite determined to make sure that we make the best of all that has happened to bring us together in this manner.”
Penelope’s heart raced wildly. It had been so long since anyone had comforted her in such a way. In fact, other than her mother and sometimes Betsy, she couldn’t remember anyone ever having treated her so kindly.
“Your Grace, I …” she began again, once more intending to tell him the truth because she could no longer bring herself to repay his kindness with more lies.
“Rose, I am well aware that our match is not what either of us had likely planned, but I am now adamant after meeting you that we can make the most of this,” the duke continued before she could come to terms with what she was attempting to tell him. “I wish us to be friends, Lady St Clair. More than that, I wish to be a good husband to you.”
So caught up in his words and the affection in his gaze, Penelope couldn’t bring herself to dash his hopes to the wind so abruptly. It was a selfish thing to do, but at that moment, Penelope couldn’t bring herself to lose the only man who had ever expressed any kind of feeling towards her.
Even though deep down she was well aware that the words were not meant for her but for Clara St Clair, she couldn’t help feeling that even for a moment, he might truly feel that way abouther.
Closing her eyes briefly, she relished the words pouring from his mouth as though he were professing his undying love for her. Though the words were nothing of the sort, she believed they were the closest she might ever come to it, and so she held onto them, allowing them to warm her heart and soul, hoping they would be enough to get her through whatever came next.
“My Lady, I want you to know that you can come to me with anything, whether it be something that troubles you or some desire you have for something,” the duke continued, squeezing her fingers with reassurance, and when she opened her eyes once more she found him still gazing at her. “I don’t want you to long for anything, for you shall have all you desire.”
