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"Well, well, if it isn't myniece, the Duchess of Chatham!"
Of all the people that Penelope thought might have been awaiting her in the parlour, the Comte St Clair was the last on her list save for one name. He was standing between her and one of the armchairs looking just as he had the same time she had seen him, with salt and pepper hair, close-cropped silver facial hair, and arrogance in his brown eyes.
He had his thumbs hooked in the loops of his breeches, his shoulders spread as if trying to make himself look as big as possible. She was so surprised at seeing him that she couldn't take her eyes off him even as she gasped, "My Lord, I … I can explain!"
Heart hammering, she started to drop down into a curtsey, remembering her true place in the world for what felt like the first time in days. She had been so tangled up in the fantasy of being a duchess that momentarily she had forgotten the mess she found herself in. Yet, faced with the Comte, it all quickly came tumbling back onto her shoulders.
"Fear not," the Comte said, startling her even further, "you need not explain anything. All is well. Your sister and I have merely come for tea."
Sister?Penelope was startled by the words and even more confused by the fact the Comte did not sound at all upset. In fact, he looked happy enough to burst as he stepped out of the way of the armchair to reveal the woman Penelope hadn't even noticed sitting there.
The moment Penelope saw the creamy-skinned, blonde-haired Clara St Clair, Penelope felt as if her knees were going to buckle beneath her. Clasping her hands behind her, she pinched the skin on the side of her index finger in an attempt to ease her shock with pain, hoping to override her terror with something physical.
"Sister! It is awfully good to see you!" Clara said as she hurried to her feet and gave a curtsey. "Or should I call you duchess now?"
Sucking in a deep breath, struggling to find her voice, she finally said, "N … no, Rose is fine."
Unsure as to why they were calling her such things as duchess and sister, Penelope quickly decided it was best to play along, almost certain she could hear footsteps outside the door as if Mr Cartwright was hovering in the hall to make sure that nobody went amiss.
"Ahh, yes, of course," the Comte said, his brow raised as if he wished to question why she had chosen her mother's name.As if he would even know that it was my mother's name,she thought, wondering whether he even remembered her true name or if he just saw her as the latest maid he had been hoping to bed.
"Lady Rose, you look quite shocked to see us. Did you not receive my letters?"
Penelope's skin crawled the moment he asked the question, all the blocks finally falling into place. "I did forewarn you of our arrival."
Though his tone was friendly, his gaze was more than a little threatening, and Penelope struggled to meet it, knowing that if she looked away he would most certainly find a way to use the weakness to his advantage.
"Yes, we have come to congratulate you onyourwedding," Clara said, glaring at Penelope as if she would have liked her to entirely lose her head and begin raving on her guilt.No, I must remain strong,Penelope told herself, knowing it was all over.
The St Clairs’ arrival and how they were acting assured her that they had known for some time of her whereabouts, though what she could not understand was why they had let her remain for so long, why they had not already sent word to the duke that she was an imposter.
Anthony!she thought suddenly, tears pricking her eyes when she realised her time with the duke had ended. One way or another, she was certain that this was the day she would lose everything. She fought back the urge to begin pleading, knowing deep down that it would do no good.
All the letters she had received over the last few weeks had told her enough of their plans even if they were currently playing nice.
I must play along and then it is time to leave,Penelope decided, though she was unsure whether she would even make it out of the parlour alive. At that moment, she felt like she was trapped in a room with a pair of snakes, merely waiting for one of them to strike.
"Please, do not look so worried," the Comte continued when she found she could not think of anything to say. "Come and sit. We have something we wish to discuss."
When the Comte stepped out of the way, gesturing her to the couch across from the armchair where Clara had been sitting, Penelope didn't immediately move as she likely should have. Instead, she hesitated, her feet frozen to the ground even though the summer sun was blazing outside.
Even though it likely would have been ten times worse for her had he been there, Penelope couldn't help wishing that Anthony had been there.Maybe after all we have been through together, he might protect me,she thought, though her rational thoughts reminded her that she had yet to tell him the truth.
He would likely only see her as a fraud, and anything he might have felt for her would be wiped away in an instant.
Unable to bear the thought of watching that upon his expression, watching as any affection he felt for her died in his eyes, Penelope held her breath and crossed the room to sit where instructed. Her entire body tensed as Clara crossed the room and came to sit beside her. The beautiful and yet venomous woman gazed up and down Penelope before smiling.
"That is a beautiful dress, sister."
The look that passed through her gaze suggested she was thinking something along the lines ofa dress that ought to belong to me.
Penelope opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by the Comte, who announced, "We do not have time to talk fashion or the latest gossip."
His voice had become hushed, and he glanced over his shoulder at the door before he moved to sit on the opposite side of Penelope, leaving her sandwiched between the two people she was most scared of in all the world. Her only saving grace was that Clara's mother was not also in attendance.
"Lady Rose," the Comte said, his voice growing quiet as he added, "We have come for information that your husband shall return with regarding the war."
No! No!Penelope's heart skipped a beat then, and more of the Comte's plan suddenly fell into place.
