To Capture a Duke's Heart (20 page)

Penny turned from the window, regarding him in surprise.  “You do?”

He reached into his pocket and grasped the long, rectangular box.  “I noticed your ribbon as we were leaving earlier,” he remarked. 

“My ribbon?  Penelope reached upward, touching the narrow band lightly with her fingertips.  “Has it come loose?”

“No, it hasn’t,” he replied dispassionately, as he withdrew the narrow box.  Nevertheless, I think you might find this a more fitting addition to your present ensemble.”  Opening the lid, he revealed the necklace lying within, the glistening jewels glinting as they caught and reflected the muted light given off by the single carriage lamp.  Penelope’s eyes went wide as she focused on the necklace, her lips forming a silent ‘oh’ as she gazed upon the dazzling display.

After a moment she looked up, eyeing him in apparent disbelief.  “Is that why we stopped before?”

“It is.”  It had been an impetuous decision, the unmindful impulse prompted by the breathtaking vision she’d presented as she’d descended the stairs and the unbidden realization that such exquisite loveliness warranted the accompaniment of far more than a mere ribbon.

“But you…” She shook her head as if she still couldn’t quite believe it.  “You got this for me?”

For a moment he didn’t respond, merely watching as a mixture of emotions played upon her face, surprise, wonder, appreciation, delight… hope.  It was the last, however, that had him silently lamenting his rash behavior and the one he needed to abruptly quash. 
Hope. 
Good God,
did she honestly believe that he had forgiven her shameless duplicity, and so easily at that.  That the necklace was an indication of such?  The notion was utterly absurd.  “Actually, I purchased it for myself.” 

Penelope’s expression abruptly shifted to one of confusion.  “For you?”

The words had left his mouth before he could think to draw them back.  But then again, perhaps it was for the best he reasoned, for he needed to make it clear to Penelope that whatever sanguine expectations she might harbor about the future of their relationship would never come to pass.  “I am a duke, Madame, and one of the wealthiest men in England,” he informed her in an even, matter-of-fact tone.  “As such, do you honestly believe that I would allow my duchess, the woman who bears
my
name, regardless of how she came to acquire it, to stand at my side wearing nothing but a simple ribbon about her throat, on our first public outing no less?” he scoffed, his words deliberately harsh. 

She visibly flinched, almost as if she’d received a physical blow, the movement slight but nonetheless perceptible, causing a sharp, involuntary pang of guilt to prick at his self-conscience. 
Damn her
, he thought, regarding her in frustrated silence as she struggled discernibly to collect herself.
No!
  It’s naught but an act, an affected performance much like the one they were about to witness upon the stage, he reminded himself, refusing to fall victim to her fallacious guise once again.

“Forgive me,” she replied just a few seconds later, and with a surprisingly steady voice, “considering what you think of me, it was foolish of me to assume otherwise.”

Gabriel’s frustration quickly mounted, for Penelope uttered the words with not only a remarkable display of calm and dignity, but with a subtle, yet unmistakable, hint of reproach as well. Dash it all,
he
wasn’t the villain in this mockery of a marriage and he’d be damned if he would allow her to make him feel as if he was.  “What I
think
of you?” he retorted, arching his brow sardonically.

Though Penny could hardly fail to miss the implication, she met his gaze unwaveringly.  “I know that you do not believe I-”

“You’re right, I do not believe you,” he interjected.

Penny took a deep breath, her fingers clenching into fists upon her lap.  “If you would only allow me to explain.”

“Explain?  Explain what exactly, that you have no memory of entering my room or my bed?” he replied derisively.  “I believe we’ve had that discussion already.”

“Yes, but-”

“But what?” he demanded.  “What is there to say, unless of course you are about to tell me that you have suddenly regained your memory of that night’s events?” he continued.  “If that is the case, however, then please, by all means do tell.”

Penny exhaled a weary sigh. “No.  I haven’t.”

He eyed her disparagingly.  “Why am I not surprised?”

Stiffening, Penny struggled to recall her father’s advice.  He is a good man, Penny.  He may be angry now, but give him time and he will undoubtedly discover the truth of your nature and the genuineness of your character for himself.  “I assure you, Your Grace, that I do not consider myself blameless in this.  I was in your bed; the fact is indisputable.  But while I may not remember how I got there, I do know that I would never have done such a thing deliberately,” she stated with quiet conviction.  “I can only hope that someday you will come to accept the truth of my words, as well as the truth of my character, for yourself.”

“A pretty speech, my dear, but it has long been my experience that one’s actions speak far louder than their words.”

Penny gritted her teeth in exasperation.  “Are you so unwilling to give me even the slightest benefit of the doubt?”

He said nothing in reply, allowing his pointed silence to speak for him.

“So this is how it is to be then?” Penny questioned dispiritedly.  “In public you shall play the doting husband,” she continued, motioning to the necklace he still held in his hand, “whilst in private you shall hold me in naught but unremitting contempt?”

Gabriel’s expression was impassive.  “If you expected otherwise, you have no one to blame but yourself.”

Actually, she
hadn’t
expected otherwise.  Regrettably, however, hope and expectation were two very different things.

For several long moments she and Gabriel simply stared at one another in silence, neither of them moving, until slowly, reaching upward, Penny moved to untie the silk ribbon from around her neck. When it was free she allowed it to fall gently into her lap and then shifted on her seat, sliding several inches to her right before turning sideways to face the wall.  She felt the added sway of the coach a few seconds later as Gabriel rose from the opposite seat and then felt the soft brush of his hands as he placed the circle of precious stones around her neck and fastened the clasp.

She waited until he returned to his own seat before turning back around, the weight of the necklace, much like her wedding ring, resting heavily upon her skin as they traversed the remaining distance to the theatre in silence.

Despite the unpleasantness that had transpired between her and Gabriel within the confines of the coach just a short while ago, Penny couldn’t help but feel a sudden rush of excitement as they entered into the lobby of the famed Theatre Royal at Drury Lane.  For while she had attended a handful of small, outdoor performances put on by various play-acting troupes passing through the village near Beckford Hall, she’d never been to an actual theatre or witnessed a full-scale stage production. 

Glancing about, her eyes darted eagerly to and fro as she surveyed the opulence that surrounded her, from the enormous, crystal chandeliers that hung suspended from the high ceiling to the Venetian mosaic floors, silk wallpapers, ornate, gilded plasterwork, massive, gold-framed mirrors hanging upon the walls and the two large, sweeping, marble-stepped staircases with their elaborately carved Cherrywood railings that rose majestically to the theatre’s upper tiers.  Captivated as she was by her surroundings, she scarcely noticed the sudden hush that had fallen over the small crowd milling about the lobby as she moved forward on Gabriel’s arm, or the frenzied whispers that immediately followed as one head after another swiveled in their direction. 

Gabriel, however, was all too aware of the concentrated interest their sudden presence had drawn, though he maintained an air of unperturbed nonchalance, merely nodding politely to those he recognized amongst the wide-eyed onlookers as he directed Penelope toward the east staircase.  And even as they made their way up the steps, on route to the upper gallery where he maintained his private box, he could almost feel the continued weight of their animated stares as they followed him and Penelope with their eyes.

Of course, the moment they were ushered through the curtains of his box by one of the numerous theatre attendants they were likewise assailed by the curious, upturned gazes of those seated down below, as the news of their arrival swept swiftly from the lobby to those individuals who had already taken their seats within the house.

“Champagne, Your Grace?” the uniformed attendant queried, as Gabriel led Penelope to her seat at the front of the box.

Turning to the attendant, he tipped his head the slightest fraction before taking his own seat next to Penelope.  He watched her then, noting with increasing fascination as her eyes flitted excitedly from one thing to the next, alighting briefly upon the red-curtained stage, the orchestra pit, the high, domed ceiling and surrounding boxes in obvious delight, a refreshing change from the decorous, blasé expressions so commonly affected by his peers.  And despite their earlier contretemps, he couldn’t help but find her enthusiasm infectious and soon found himself gazing upon his surroundings with a renewed and markedly-heightened level of interest.

It was only when Penelope leaned forward to peer over the front of the box a short while later that her expression altered dramatically.  “Good Heavens, everyone is staring at us,” she uttered in a hushed voice, promptly leaning back into her seat.

“Yes, they are,” Gabriel retorted dryly.

“I suppose I should have expected as much,” she murmured, seeming to shrink even further into the back of her chair.

Gabriel eyed her curiously for a moment, for oddly enough, considering the lengths to which she’d gone to become the next Duchess of Ainsworth, she seemed less than eager to flaunt her newly-acquired title.

“Your champagne, Your Grace.”

He turned from Penelope, reaching to lift the pair of crystal champagne flutes from the attendant’s tray.

“Is there anything else that I may assist you with, Your Grace?” the man queried politely.

Gabriel shook his head.  “Not at this time, no.”

“Very well, Your Grace,” he replied with a bow.  “Enjoy the performance.”

Turning back to Penelope, he handed her one of the glasses.

“Thank you,” she replied softly, taking a small sip before returning her gaze back toward the unoccupied stage.

Sipping her champagne, Penny tried to calm her rioting nerves and did her best to ignore the repeated glances cast her way by the various occupants of the other boxes, silently praying that the performance would soon begin and serve to redirect their attention.  Thus it was with an enormous sense of relief when she noted the lights flicker, indicating for those who hadn’t already done so to take their seats, as the first act was about to get underway.  And when the lights dimmed a short time later and the curtains slowly parted, she felt her nervousness fall quickly by the wayside as her concentration became riveted upon the stage.

In fact, so captivated was she by the scene unfolding before her that she quite forgot about her prior conversation with Gabriel, and that the man sitting next to her all but despised her, as she turned to him, her eyes bright with excitement.  “Oh, isn’t it marvelous,” she exclaimed, smiling in unabashed pleasure, before quickly returning her attention to the spectacular stage setting and the brilliantly-costumed performers. Then she watched, utterly captivated, as the beloved tale she’d read time and again over the years, was brought to life upon the stage.

Alas, it was only when the curtains fell closed once again at the start of the first intermission that she was finally able to tear her rapt gaze from the mesmerizing production.  Blinking as the houselights were raised, Penny realized only then that having been so entranced by the performance that she’d shifted forward in her seat to the point that she was now sitting perched upon the very front edge of her chair.

“I take it that you are enjoying the performance, thus far?” Gabriel queried with a discerning glance as she failed in her attempt to slide
unobtrusively
backwards upon her seat.

Penny turned to him with a slight, discomfited smile.  “I expect that my rather ardent appreciation of the production is not quite the thing,” she replied self-consciously.

“Amongst the practiced ennui of our supercilious peers, I fear not,” he acknowledged somewhat ruefully.  “For one’s attendance at the theatre, the opera and other such venues, is far often more based upon the desire
to see
and
to be seen
, than it is to enjoy the performance, especially during the Season.  ‘Tis a shame, however,” he continued with a thoughtful expression, “for your candid enjoyment has served to remind me of just how easy it is for those amongst our exceedingly-privileged class, me included, to take some of the truest and oft-times simplest of pleasures for granted.”

Penny regarded him in surprise, for she had wholly expected Gabriel to remark upon her behavior with disdain.  Thus, his unexpected and ostensibly genuine approbation caught her completely off-guard.  And unbidden, her father’s words echoed within her head, just as they had earlier. 
He’s a good man.  Give him time
.  And despite her good sense and her efforts to tamp it down, she felt that tiny flicker of hope spark to life once again.  The hope that maybe,
just maybe
, the man who had captivated her so effortlessly, not only with his handsome face, but with his winsome personality and inherent charm, would reveal himself to her once again.