Page 19 of An Offer By the Beastly Duke

Penelope’s hand froze over her teacup. She hadn’t even realized she’d been so obvious. She cleared her throat, her gaze dropping to her lap where her fingers had unconsciously twisted the fabric of her silk skirts into a wrinkled mess.

“I apologize, ladies. I have been terribly preoccupied.” Penelope’s words felt hollow, even to her own ears.

“We happened to notice,” Violet giggled. “Could it be ever since you ran into a certain Duke?”

Penelope’s face flushed with warmth. She couldn’t bring herself to explain. How could she confess that the Duke of Brigrock had invaded her thoughts like a recurring fever?

“Oh, Violet, do not tease her.” Amelia narrowed her eyes at their friend before glancing curiously toward Penelope. “Unless… that is true?”

The two of them were entirely too perceptive. Penelope cursed her own inability to manage her expressions, and how her silence seemed to only make her more guilty of their suggestion.

And, yes, the Duke was residing in her thoughts, but she was also troubled by what had happened with Nicholas. She had never had issues with her son before, and he had always been a good boy.

Now she had been forced to take away his freedom—freedom he’d been seeking for weeks.

Penelope exhaled slowly, the breath shuddering out of her. She set her teacup down with a trembling hand and leaned back into the velvet cushions of her chair. She wanted to avoid this, she needed to. She wasn’t ready to speak of the Duke, or the guilt that felt like a weight in her lungs. But looking into their expectant faces, she couldn’t bring herself to lie anymore.

“I have been thinking about Nicholas,” she began slowly, her voice tinged with a thick layer of guilt. “He… he is lonely, and it has taken me so long to see it, and I feel terrible. He has no children to play with, and no father to look up to or be guided by. That is why he was running off to the Duke of Brigrock’s estate just so he could play with His Grace’s dog.” She paused, her throat tightening. “I just don’t know how to make him understand why that’s not right. I…”

Penelope faltered, her thoughts swirling into a dark vortex. Amelia’s hand squeezed her arm.

“Penelope, I know you worry about him,” Amelia said softly. “But you cannot shield him forever. Nicholas needs a male influence in his life, or he could grow up…”

“Apart from the world,” Violet finished, her voice gentle.

Penelope nodded, her lips pressed together until they turned white. She didn’t want to admit it, but they were right. Nicholas was outgrowing her bubble of safety.

“I just don’t know what to do,” Penelope confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. Her hands clenched in her lap. “He keeps asking why he cannot go hunting. Why he cannot do the things the other boys do. It is as though he’s already growing up faster than I feel ready for. And I… I cannot let him be around the Duke. I just can’t. I don’t trust him. Not to mention, Nicholas is not welcome there, and His Grace made that clear, but Nicholas cannot see that.”

A long silence stretched through the drawing room, broken only by the steady ticking of the mantle clock.

“Perhaps…” Amelia’s voice was hesitant but firm. “Perhaps you could take him to Lord Hillsborough’s estate for the pheasant hunt, then? Notoriously, it is attended by many gentlemen, and he will have good, male influence, and see what he can do. It would give him a chance to have what he lacks.”

Penelope’s heart clenched, a physical spasm behind her ribs. “The pheasant hunt?” she asked, her voice shaking with disbelief. “With all those men? What if His Grace also attends? What if he loses his temper around Nicholas?”

Violet leaned forward, her expression more serious than Penelope had seen it in a long while.

“Even if His Grace is there,” she said carefully, “so will a great many other men. Nicholas would be well looked after, Penelope. I am certain sure they will make sure he stays safe. No harm will come to him, and I do recall you once saying he is growing up to be an excellent rider. He could learn a few extra skills.”

Penelope’s mind raced, her thoughts colliding with her fears. The thought of sending Nicholas into a field with guns and men was terrifying. But she knew Nicholas needed adventure. He needed to grow beyond her.

“I suppose it is worth considering,” Penelope said slowly, her voice heavy with hesitation. She smoothed her skirts with a restless hand as she sighed. “I just do not know what to do anymore. I feel as though I am failing him.”

Violet reached across the table and gave Penelope’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “You are not failing him, Penelope. You are doing the hardest thing of all: letting him grow up.”

Penelope didn’t know if that was a comfort or a threat.

Chapter Seven

Aweek later, the sun hung low in the sky, casting long, bruised shadows over Lord Hillsborough’s sprawling estate as Penelope stepped onto the stone terrace overlooking the garden.

Around her, the ladies were preparing for their first game of Pall Mall, while the men were preparing for the hunt, their camaraderie unmistakable as they checked the barrels of their rifles and adjusted the cinches of their saddles.

Penelope’s gaze swept over the crowd, but her thoughts remained anchored to Nicholas.

He stood at the edge of the group of gentlemen, his posture awkward, his small shoulders squared in a desperate attempt to look older than his seven years.

The air on the terrace was sharp with the scent of damp earth and the metallic tang of gun oil.