Page 12 of Uncrowned

I didn’t elaborate or let the dread leak into my tone.

“It is something we’ve been talking about. This is a delicate situation, Penelope. I’m not sure there’s a right time for marriage, but John seems to think it will appear better if it were sooner rather than later. He told your father today that he’s concocting a story he believes will go well with the public.”

“A story.” I scanned the two of us in the mirror, feeling my mind race. “He wants the public to take to this marriage with sympathy. As though… he needs me… through his grief.”

A wide smile came as my mother pulled back the top section of my hair, sliding the pin into place as she began pulling up other sections as well, twisting them back.

“You are wicked smart when you want to be. Or maybe you’ve been the entire time and you just don’t let it show.”

Blue, the same color as mine lifted to connect with my stare. I quickly averted my eyes.

“None of us want this marriage to backfire, Penelope. We want the title, but we want our reputation to thrive with the news. Like I said before, it’s delicate.”

I swallowed back the millions of colliding thoughts that wanted to come. “Perhaps I…” I cleared my throat, hating the way I almost knew what I had to do if I wanted to escape this house—this hell. “Perhaps I could offer to help care for Babette? Maybe to read to her so it puts me and John in the same place at the same time?”

My mother’s hand froze, and I braved a look.

“That was my exact suggestion.” Her body softened. “I knew you’d come around. Men… they’re so thick-headed. They both said no, but they may be right in this case. John comes for dinner on a regular basis. That seems to be enough interaction. Too much might come off overplayed and suspicious and lead to even more gossip. He will continue to play the doting husband until she dies, and then roughly two months later, the two of you will run into each other publicly. Perhaps at the same restaurant, where the two of you will decide to dine together. He’ll need help with his grief, and the two of you will connect on a deeper level. It will be a fast relationship. An… unexpected spark, so to speak.”

“Two months,” I breathed out. Alright. I had a little time to come up with a plan. “An unexpected spark. Unexpected is believable.”

“Indeed.” She twisted the last piece up, sliding in a few more pins to hold it into place. As I stood, I saw pride on my mother’s face. Happiness. It didn’t last long before she nodded and the hardness returned. “John is probably already downstairs. I’ll let him know you’re ready. Don’t keep him waiting.”

“Yes, Mother.”

She headed for the door, shutting it behind her. Silence left my ears ringing and my throat closing. I let my lids drop, refusing to think about how much care and detail I’d put into my makeup and appearance. I didn’t want John to feel attracted to me—but the dress. Everything about it was like Poppy. I felt daring and alive. Like anyone but me. Now that it was time to go down and meet John, I wanted to be wearing a sack. I wanted to look so horrid that I scared him away.

My hand pushed into my stomach as I stood straighter. Vibrations had my head jerking to the side. Excitement sparked but died away with guilt. Shaking engulfed me as I headed for the phone and took in the private number displayed on the screen. I quickly hit the button, bringing it to my ear.

“Hello?”

“You hung up on me. … I didn’t like that.”

“I can’t talk right now.” I shifted in the heels, keeping my voice down. My pulse soared. I didn’t want to stop talking to him. To stop hearing that voice. “I have to go down to dinner. He’s waiting for me.”

“I know. I saw.”

My head whipped to my window, and I headed in the direction, pulling back the curtain. Random lights lit up windows down both sides of the road, and the streetlamps gave illumination to the shadows, but I saw no one.

“You’re out there now? Are you a neighbor?”

A pause. “You look beautiful.”

Heat flooded my cheeks, taking over my body as I shifted under the pressure of an invisible gaze.

“Thank you. …I truly must go.”

“We’ll talk again soon, Penelope. Don’t hang up on me again.”

The line went dead, and I placed my phone down as I spun for the door. My steps were so fast as I headed down. My mind was spinning. This stranger’s accent. British but… something else had been mixed in. American? And he sounded somewhat young. Older than me but not old. Smooth, deep voice. Could voices be sexy? His was.

I was so lost in my thoughts, I almost barged into my father as he left his study. The surprise collided with fear leaving me frozen as he reached for my arm to steady me.

“I’m so sorry, Father. I didn’t see you. I didn’t want to keep John waiting.”

He stepped back, studying me like a piece of meat.

“He’ll like the dress. Off with you.”