Page 22 of My Cruel Duke

Chapter11

“Look at them. They make a handsome couple,” Aunt Augusta’s arm sneaked into Penny’s. She released a sigh and smiled. Aunt Augusta had said the same for all the five gentlemen who danced with Lydia since the dancing started.

But there was truth in her aunt’s words. Lydia made a fine match with all the titled men she danced with; they looked completely smitten by her with stars in their eyes when they danced, but Lydia did not look too pleased.

She smiled, yes, but Penny knew her sister more than anyone else, she knew what her sister looked like when she was genuinely happy, and that was not the look Lydia had on her face, even as she offered her hand to the fine baron with a smile. Something was amiss with Lydia, and Penny would find out what it was.

“Worrying about her, I suppose is the meaning of the look in your eyes?” Aunt Augusta nudged Penny’s side.

“Aunty,” Penny rebuked, but when she looked back at her sister dancing with a new face, a sigh escaped her lips. “I worry about her all the time, but it is not the look in my eyes. She does not seem too happy.”

Aunt Augusta looked from Penny to her beautiful niece dancing and shook her head. “She seems happy to me.”

“On the surface, yes, but not genuinely.”

“Does that not sound like worry to you, Penny dear?”

Penny sighed. It did. She was worried for her sister, but it was only right for her to be. She was all her sister had now. She never talked to Lydia about it, but Penny suspected her sister was bitter about Patrick leaving the way he did. Who wouldn’t be?

“My dear, you are at a magnificent ball. You should go out there like the girls your age and enjoy yourself, not stand in a corner like a depressed grandmother.”

Penny frowned at her aunt’s words. It was unfair of her to make such a comparison, but perhaps she was right.

“I do not feel like it. The girls my age you speak of are unmarried and in search of husbands. Need I remind you that I am married, and to a duke nonetheless? All I am doing is monitoring Lydia, observing things about the gentlemen who have approached her, things she cannot see.”

Aunt Augusta rolled her eyes. “You act as though she is a child.”

“She is, and I am fully responsible for her future.”

“And I suppose you are all she has? Am I not also responsible for her future?” Aunt Augusta withdrew her hand from Penny’s, but Penny was quick to catch it.

“I do not mean to offend you, Aunty. I just…” she paused to take a breath. “I just want Lydia to get married soon to a prominent gentleman that will treat her well–”

“So that you can be rest assured that your efforts are not wasted? That you did not marry the duke for nothing?” Penny was silent at her aunt’s words. “You forget, dear child, that this is only the start of the Season. We still have a long way to go, and with your title, Lydia has only been approached by a certain type of gentlemen so far.”

Penny nodded.

“The sacrifice you made to get us all here can never be a waste. A month ago, we were a fabric less from wearing rags, and today we are dressed in fine linens and only the best silk, adorning ourselves with the shiniest jewelry. Cease worrying, my dear, and live a little.” Aunt Augusta’s words removed the weight Penny had been carrying on her shoulders. “In your words, you are married to a duke. Go give these people a real show. Take your duke to the dance floor and give them something to talk about for days, something the Ton will never forget.”

Yes, Penny could do that. It seemed like the easiest way to get people talking positively about them, and it would be a bonus to Lydia’s reputation. She would do it… if only she could find her husband.

Penny had not set eyes on him since he excused himself for a smoke break earlier. She did not miss the little twist in her chest. She let her eyes roam, looking for the familiar black of his hair, and the striking blue of his eyes, but to no avail.

Instead of letting his absence worry her, Penny grabbed a glass of wine from a passing footman and downed the contents.

“Sister, are you well?” Penny had not noticed the waltz had ended, or her sister’s presence. “Did you have a fight with the duke?”

Penny narrowed her eyes. “Why do you ask that?”

“You seem a little annoyed,” Penny parted her lips to respond, but held her breath when she saw him standing with a group of men, tall and devilishly handsome with a barely-there smile on his face.

“My, what insolent thoughts,”Penny placed a hand on her chest.

“That is the Marquess of Angleton,” Lydia leaned closer and whispered.

“Who is?”

“The man standing beside the duke. I hear they are old friends.”