“Take a breath, my sweet girl,” the Duchess commanded in a teasing tone. “The poor gentleman will think you desperate for him.”
“I am desperate for him,” Dorothy whispered. She set her book aside and stood, straightening her skirts with skittish hands as she waited for Harry to arrive.
When the door opened again, her smile was wide. Harry walked in with Bensen and his eyes immediately caught hers from across the room. His lips tugged up at the corners, but he turned his attention to the Duchess before addressing Dorothy.
Oh, he is brilliant.
“Your Grace,” he said with a deep bow. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”
The Duchess, who remained in her seat, nodded her head to him. “Good evening, Mr. Snowley. We are so happy that you could join us.”
“I am happy as well, Madam.” Now, he turned his attention back to Dorothy. “My Lady, it is good to see you again.”
Dorothy wanted nothing more than to run to and him and fling herself into his arms, but she controlled herself.
In a breathless voice, she said, “It is good to see you again, too.”
As they stared at each other, her hear fluttered in excitement for the evening ahead of them.
* * *
Penelope’s heart thudded with dread. She was too late. There was nothing she could do to stop Harry now.
Staring out the library’s window at the darkening sky, her whole body thrummed with terror. Andrew’s visit had lasted much longer than she had anticipated. She blushed thinking of their scandalous carriage ride and the exquisite pleasure he had given her. He had distracted her from her worries, making her forget however briefly of Harry’s intentions to reveal their secret to Dorothy.
After Andrew had left, all her worries came crashing back to her, and she could not enjoy the relief his ministrations had brought her. She had yet to come up with a plan to deter Harry from his evening’s goal. She had been in a state of total panic throughout the afternoon, unable to do anything but pray he changed his mind.
Penelope knew better, however. Harry had been resolved in his decision. He was telling Lady Dorothy their secret, whether Penelope wanted him to or not, and there was nothing she could do to stop him. Upon accepting that fact, she had recognized that she needed a plan of her own to mitigate the damage that would be caused.
Harry had been right in suggesting she tell their parents herself. It was better that it came from her than an outside source. She needed to prepare them for the scandal that was sure to come. The idea of confessing all to them was terrifying, however, and she had done her best to avoid both the Baron and her mother throughout the day.
Now, she could avoid them no longer. She was expected at dinner, and if she did not show up, her mother would seek her out to make sure she was not ill. Clenching her hands into fists, she took in a large breath of air.
The moment Harry revealed their scheme to Lady Dorothy, Pandora’s Box would be unleashed. Their secret would no longer be their own, and it would inevitably spread no matter how much Harry trusted the lady.
It must be done. There is no choice. They deserve to be prepared for your downfall.
Resolved, Penelope turned from the window to the library door, striding out into the hallway. Her journey to the first floor and the dining room felt like a march to the gallows. Only doom awaited her when she reached her destination, of this she had no doubt, but she could no longer escape her fate.
She had to stop at the door to still her shaking hands. Her parents’ voices floated out to her from within. They sounded happy. Excited even, no doubt discussing Harry’s impending engagement. For a moment, she second-guessed her plan.
Why ruin their happiness? Why not give them tonight?
Shaking her head, she reaffirmed her commitment to confessing all. Tomorrow may be too late to tell them. It had to be tonight.
Throwing back her shoulders, she strode into the room with more apparent confidence than she could muster, fighting every instinct within her that was screaming for her to turn and run.
* * *
“Will Lord Romwich be joining us this evening?” Harry asked as he walked down the hallway at Dorothy’s side, her mother and father ahead of them.
She shook her head. “No, not this evening. He elected to eat dinner at the club instead. He said he did not want to cause any interruption in our time together.”
“How thoughtful of him.”
Dorothy did not miss the tone of relief beneath his voice. She had been secretly relieved as well when Andrew had dismissed himself from their company. Though she wished the two gentlemen could get along better, she knew it was not a relationship she could force on them. Better to keep them apart than risk any shows of temper in front of the Duke and Duchess.
She squeezed him arm gently and spoke in a low tone. “I am so happy that you are here.”
He gazed down at her with a grin. “As am I.”
Something flickered across his gaze that made her frown. Was he nervous? No, not nervous. That would be an understandable emotion when dining with her parents. It was something more like…apprehension. Perhaps even fear.
What could he be fearful of?
Before she could question him, however, they reached the dining room. The long table was set and laden with food. Harry escorted her to her chair, and as he pulled it away from the table and helped her to sit, he leaned down to murmur in her ear.
“After dinner, I wish for us to speak alone.”
She gasped, turning her gaze up to him as he stepped away to find his seat. His eyes were intent when they met hers across the table, but she could not read his expression. There was only one instance in which an unmarried lady was permitted to be alone with an unmarried man.
When he intended to propose to her.
* * *
“Ah, there you are, my dear!” the Baron declared when Penelope reached her place at the table. “We were beginning to worry that you were not going to join us.”
Penelope rested her hand on the back of her chair and gripped it tight with her fingers.
“I apologize for being tardy, Papa,” she replied, careful to keep her voice from shaking. “I have had much on my mind and needed to think some things through.”
“What things, sweetheart?” her mother asked, furrowing her brow.
Say it now! Do it, before you lose your nerve!
Taking a deep breath, Penelope gazed between her parents, who were both staring at her with curiosity in their eyes.
“Mama, Papa, there is something I must tell you…” She trailed off, the words feeling like lead on her tongue.
“What is it, dear?” her mother gently urged.
Penelope shook her head. “There is something…something that Harry and I have been keeping from you for some time now.”
“Penelope, you are frightening us,” the Baron said in a low tone. “Say what you mean to tell us.”
She thought for a moment she might choke on the words as she forced them up. This was proving far more difficult than she had even imagined, and she had imagined it would be nearly impossible.
“As you well know, tonight Harry intends to propose to Lady Dorothy.”
Both her parents nodded.
“Yes, we do.” The Baron narrowed his eyes at her. “Is this something to do with his engagement?”
“No, not necessarily. When Harry asks for Lady Dorothy’s hand, he will also reveal our secret to her as he does not wish to begin their lives together with it hanging over them. He thought it best I tell you as well, should the secret somehow break out.”
“Penelope, just tell us what it is,” her mother insisted. “What could possibly be worth so much suspense?”
This is it.
She could no longer avoid confessing the truth. As she readied herself to reveal her greatest secret, a strange sense of calm came over her. Soon, she would no longer have to carry this burden and pretend it did not bother her when Harry was praised while she stood in th
e background. Whatever the consequences, she would no longer have to live in fear that someone would discover her deception and expose her.
She met each of her parents’ gazes, one and then the other.
Her heart was racing, and her stomach felt light as she opened her mouth, the words at last breaking free.
“Harry and I have been deceiving you and all of London. Harry is not the author of the novels he has become so famous for. I am.”
Chapter Thirty
As dinner came to an end, Harry looked toward the Duke. His heart was hammering painfully in his chest, both excitement and dread churning in his gut.
“Your Grace, with your permission, I would like to speak with Lady Dorothy in private.”
He felt both ladies tense and stare at him in astonishment. The Duke, however, merely nodded as he fought his grin.
“Very well, Mr. Snowley. Madam, shall we?”
Harry nodded gratefully to the gentleman. When he had first approached his Grace to ask his blessing to propose, he had worried he would be denied outright. After all, who was Harry compared to a Duke or Marquess? There were plenty of gentleman of higher rank who it could be claimed were more deserving of Dorothy’s hand. Yet, there had been no hesitation on the Duke’s part.
“You are a respectable gentleman who makes my daughter happy,” he had said during their secret meeting at White’s. “If she will have you, you have my consent to marry her.”
Now, the Duke pushed from his chair, and his wife stood as well, her wide eyes bouncing between Harry and Dorothy.
Coming around the table to take the Duchess’ hand and escort her away, the Duke said, “We shall return shortly.”
The two left without another word, though the Duchess turned her head back to stare at Harry several times before they cleared the room.
Once they were gone, he looked back to Dorothy. She still sat in her chair, her face bright with exhilaration, though she fought to maintain a calm demeanor. This was the first time they had ever been truly alone, and the thought crossed his mind that he could march over to her and kiss her just as he had dreamed of doing since they had first met.
He resisted the urge, however, not wishing to compromise a moment of their time.
Moving around the table, he stopped when he stood at her side. She stared up at him, her eyes already sparkling with tears. With a grin, he lowered himself to one knee so he could look at her straight on.
“Dorothy, my love, you have captured my heart in a way I never thought possible. When I am with you, I feel whole, and when we are apart, it is as if you take a piece of me with you.”
“I feel the same,” she murmured, a smile tugging at her lips.
He took one of her hands in his. “There is something I wish to ask you, but first, there is something I need to tell you. I do not want you to agree to anything until you know the entire truth about me.”
Some of her delight dimmed, and she furrowed her brow. “What is it, Harry? No matter what it is, I will forgive you, do not fear.”
Her absolute devotion to him warmed him from the inside out.
“I pray that is the case, sweetheart.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes to fortify himself before he spoke again. Opening his eyes once more, he met her gaze. “I am afraid that I have been deceiving you for some time. You, and all of London.”
She frowned. “I do not understand.”
Pressing forward, he continued, “Dorothy, I am not the author of the novels you so love. I am not the romantic creative you adore. The works are not my own. I have claimed them as such to protect their true author.”
Dorothy blinked, and for a moment, he feared she had forgotten how to breath. “If you are not their author then…then who is?”
“Penelope.”
She gasped. “What? Penelope? How…she is the one who wrote those beautiful and…and scandalous stories?”
He nodded. “Yes. She has always had a talent for the craft, and a fondness for those types of novels. It was her passion to be a published author, but she was afraid of the scandal it would cause. She requested my help, and I agreed to pretend the novels were mine. With my name on the first work, we were able to find a publisher quickly.”
“My family’s publishing house.” Dorothy shook her head, appearing overwhelmed with disbelief. “You fooled them, and the public. You fooled me! Why would you reveal all now?” She did not sound angry, or even hurt, which gave him hope that she would accept this truth about him and love him anyway.
He squeezed her hand. “Because, I want to marry you Dorothy. I want to build my life with you, and I do not want there to be secrets between us.”
Her lips parted in a tiny gasp, and the smile that followed it was breathtaking.
“I want that too, Harry. I want to be your wife and know everything about you.”
His heart raced as his greatest hope came to fruition. “Then may I take that as a yes? You will marry me?”
Tears shimmered in her eyes as she nodded her head. “Yes, Harry. I will marry you.”
Surging to his feet, he drew her from the chair to pull her into a tight embrace. She laughed, the sound pure joy as she buried her face in his shoulder. Harry could not remember a happier moment in his whole life. Dorothy was his. She would love him and banish the loneliness from his life, and he would cherish her for the remainder of his days.
Pulling from their embrace, he held her by the shoulders and gazed down into her eyes.
“You are more than I deserve,” he said. “More than I could have ever hoped for.”
Just then, he heard the Duke and Duchess returning, their footsteps echoing out in the hall. With a start, he realized he had forgotten to swear Dorothy to secrecy in regard to Penelope.
Leaning down so he could whisper, he urged, “Please, my love. Not a word about the novels to anyone. The secret must remain between you and I.”
“Of course,” she agreed easily.
They stepped apart just as the Duke and Duchess walked back into the room. Their Graces gazed at Harry and Dorothy with clear expectation.
“Well?” the Duke asked when neither were forthcoming. “Have you asked her? And she accepted?”
Harry glanced toward Dorothy, and she met his gaze with a smile before turning back to her parents.
“Yes, I have accepted. Mr. Snowley and I are engaged.”
The Duke clapped his hands in delight. “Excellent! It is such a relief to a father to know his daughter will be married and settled to a decent gentleman. Come, let us retire to the parlor and celebrate with champagne.”
“Thank you, your Grace,” Harry said. It was a relief that the Duke not only approved of the match, but celebrated it. He glanced toward the Duchess, who was smiling, but did not appear as overjoyed as her husband.
“Indeed, this is a very exciting evening,” she declared, though it was with clear hesitation. Harry could not blame her, truly, for not being as enthusiastic about him marrying Dorothy as her husband. A Baron’s son was likely not the ideal partner she had pictured for her daughter. Still, she appeared to be making an effort to be happy for them.
“I am very honored to have both of your Graces’ support,” he spoke with as much sincerity as he could muster. “I know how lucky I am to have earned Lady Dorothy’s love, and what a privilege it is to take her hand in marriage.”
His heartfelt declaration appeared to have the desired effect. The Duchess’ smile broadened, and she visibly relaxed.
“We are fortunate that our daughter has found such a devoted gentleman.” Her eyes moved to Dorothy. “She is our treasure, after all. We would not wish for her to attach herself to someone unworthy of her.”
“I endeavor to be worthy of her, your Grace.” Harry turned his gaze to Dorothy as well. Her cheeks were bright red, and she was smiling shyly. She slipped her hand around his arm and stepped into his side.
“Well, shall we join his Grace?” The Duchess held out her hand toward the dining room door, thro
ugh which the Duke had already disappeared.
“Yes, Madam.” With Dorothy secure on his arm, Harry followed the Duchess to the parlor. He felt such a great sense of relief now that Dorothy knew everything. He had not realized just how much that secret had been weighing on him. Releasing a contented breath, he could not wait to tell Penelope that her fears had been in vain. Dorothy had taken the news in stride, and he trusted that she would not tell a soul.
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