The forest greeted her in silence. Damp earth, at first, followed by the faint scent of rain lingering beneath the canopy, and the distant call of birds. Leaves glistened faintly, and somewhere in the distance, birds called to one another in soft, echoing notes.
It should have felt peaceful. But beneath it all, there was anticipation lingering greatly in the air.
Penelope dismounted Eloise with a gentle thud, eyes scanning the perimeter. Patting the white mare softly who snickered in response, "Stay" She murmured, patting her neck.
A cool breeze swept through the trees, tugging loose strands of her hair free as she stepped forward onto the narrow path, her heart beating just a fraction faster than she would have liked.
This was foolish. Reckless. Entirely unnecessary, her thoughts criticized, but her feet moved nevertheless.
She could have stayed, focused on Lord Ashbourne, and secured her future the proper way. And yet, here she was, searching for the nefarious stranger to propose a skewed bargain.
Her jaws tightened faintly. What are you doing, Penelope? But her steps didn't falter, proceeding to the bank.
The quiet lake came into view, the waves deceptively calm. She stopped at its edge, eyes fixed on the gentle ripples that glistened beneath the morning light.
For a moment, nothing happened. The atmosphere lacked movement and sound, but the soft ripple of water, ethereal under the magical glow of the gentle weather.
Her eyes searched for the spot where his garments once were—hoping this time to notice her surroundings carefully—and behind the tree she caught him earlier, but there was no one, or anything to indicate any presence.
Penelope exhaled slowly. Of course. What had she expected? That he would simply appear?
A humorless breath left her lips. "This is absurd," she muttered. "An absurd attempt."
Last night, she spent hours researching the number of suitable prospects— apart from Lord Ashbourne—and none seemed close to the stranger's signet ring.
Staring at it, the intricate face of the raven greeted her sight. It wasn't something fanciable, yet at the same time, the object carried the weight of power and wealth.
Penelope exhaled slowly, her gaze drifting over the trees, half-expecting—no, half-hoping—to see him again, but there was nothing but the soft rustle of leaves.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the coat draped over her arm. This was absurd, she thought for the nth time, and yet, she came here prepared, believing things would work her way.
Her jaw set faintly as she drew in a breath, forcing her thoughts into order against all objection. Now wasn't the time for regret, or pride. The situation she found herself in was as precarious as it seemed, and the last thing she wanted was returning without at least an attempt that would either ruin her, or ruin her still.
You will marry me.
No. It was too blunt.
Her expression tightened as she tried again, eyes falling on the signet ring that clearly spoke of power beyond any measure.
I propose an arrangement—
No, she thought. It was too formal… and distant as well.
Penelope began pacing slowly, the damp earth quiet beneath her boots. "I require a husband," She murmured aloud, testing the words, and her face almost cringed in disgust. No, no, no. "And you—"
She stopped. No, she thought. That sounded like desperation.
Because it was.
The criticism came sharp and deliberate, hurting her pride and the little dignity she possessed. Penelope exhaled sharply, pressing her fingers to her temple.
Think, Pen…
This was no different from Lord Ashbourne… only without the rules, without the structure, and without the suffocating civility. Which meant she had to be sharper. Even clearer and stronger.
She straightened slightly. "I wish to offer you a contract," She tried again, voice quiet and steady. "A mutually beneficial arrangement. Marriage, with terms defined by both parties."
Better, she thought, and that seemed to ease the tightness in her stomach.
Her grip on the coat loosened just slightly, the urge to proceed becoming stronger. "You will have discretion, freedom, and no unnecessary obligations beyond appearances," She continued, her voice gaining strength as she rehearsed. "In return, I gain marriage, protection, stability… and time."
Time? The last word lingered like her nemesis, and she swallowed. That was what she barely had.
Penelope's expression softened briefly, just enough to gather herself, before hardening again. "If you require an heir…" She hesitated, her throat tightening faintly. "…that can be negotiated."
The words felt heavier spoken aloud, more real and irreversible, and suddenly, it made her realize the similarity between Lord Philip Ashbourne, and other men. But it took Penelope another moment, absorbing the foolishness of her demand to a stranger.
As if the heavens were totally against her, silence was what answered. The forest remained indifferent, and yet the atmosphere carried something close to mockery.
Penelope swallowed, suddenly aware of how alone she was. She turned slightly, scanning the trees again. Her pride was hurt, and the last strand of her ego dissipated into thin air when she called, "Hello?"
Her voice carried further than she expected, echoing faintly between the trunks. There was no answer, only the wind brushing through leaves.
A flicker of something—disappointment? irritation?—passed through her chest. Of course, no one answered. What had she expected? That he would simply appear because she wished it?
Penelope let out a quiet, humorless breath. She turned, walking back. Her eyes fell on the familiar trunk that once held the coat.
For a fleeting moment, she considered keeping the coat just the way she'd found it, leaving and forgetting this entirely. Forget she'd attempted the most outlandish idea as a result of her desperation. But even as the thought formed, Penelope dismissed it.
No. That would be careless, she thought. And she could not afford carelessness, not now, not ever again.
Penelope stood there a moment longer, listening to the quiet, as though waiting for something to change. But reality dawned upon her when nothing did.
Of course.
At last, she exhaled, the tension slowly leaving her shoulders. "This was a mistake," she murmured, though not with regret, but with a reluctant acceptance. What were you thinking?
Proceeding further, she walked toward Eloise, her steps slow and more measured. The absurdity of it all settled over her like a second skin with every step she took, mocking her.
She had come into a forest to propose marriage… to a man she did not know… who was not even there.
Penelope almost laughed. Almost. Was this how desperate she'd become? Irrational? Unreasonable?
As she mounted her horse, her gaze drifted once more toward the empty clearing, and the memory of that encounter lingered stubbornly at the back of her mind.
Her gaze fell on the coat lying before her. For a fleeting moment, Penelope considered whether taking it along was a good idea. The faint trace of bergamot wavered in the air, and she gritted her teeth.
With a quiet command, Penelope urged Eloise forward.