The Duke of Olympia Meets His Match by Juliana Gray Read Free Book Online Page A

himself distracted, after such a promising start.”
    Penelope’s fingers stilled on the rail. “Distracted?”
    â€œOh, by some other woman, I mean. There are so many older women on board, you know.
Designing
women. Horrid things. The kind that might see a chance for a bit of excitement. Or
profit
. You know how these women can be, don’t you, Mrs. Schuyler? Never minding that they might ruin an innocent girl’s chances of being settled in life. And of course, men being men . . .” Mrs. Morrison shrugged her comfortable shoulders. “They sometimes prefer the
easier
course, even if it isn’t the most
picturesque
. If you know what I mean.”
    â€œI’m afraid I don’t,” Penelope said icily. “I have no experience in such matters.”
    â€œOh, of course not. Heavens, no. You’re not that kind of woman
at all
. If you were, we would
never
have taken you in the way we did, ha, ha.” Mrs. Morrison made a few more brittle, high-pitched chuckles, and then went on. “Now, of course, if Ruby were to marry well, we’d be so
grateful
to you. My goodness, you wouldn’t want for anything. In fact, I’m sure I could persuade Mr. Morrison to set aside a little something for you. A very nice present of some kind, something to make you quite comfortable, as you head into your declining years.” She put a kind little emphasis on the word
declining
.
    â€œHow thoughtful.”
    â€œOr maybe Ruby would take you with her. She so adores you. I’m sure she would love to have your advice as she gets on in married life.” A giggle, so sharp. “And I can see the dear duke likes you already. He wouldn’t object, I’m sure, once he saw the advantages of the situation.”
    â€œI think you’re mistaken about the duke, Mrs. Morrison.”
    â€œOh, I don’t think so.” The woman put her hand on Penelope’s cheek and turned it gently toward her. “I think I know that look in a man’s eye.”
    Mrs. Morrison’s own eyes had a look of their own, right there in the middle of her soft, round, pink-cheeked face. They were hard and flat enough to step on.
    â€œThere is no look, Mrs. Morrison,” Penelope said gently. “I think you must be imagining things.”
    A smile formed at the ends of Mrs. Morrison’s plump mouth. “I’m so glad to hear that, Penelope dear. We do love you so much.”
    â€œLaura! Laura, darling! There you are!”
    Mrs. Morrison’s eyes softened instantly. She dropped her hand from Penelope’s cheek and turned, arms outstretched toward a pair of white-clad matrons of a certain stout age. The women greeted one another with the usual squeals and cackling and pecking. After a decent interval, Penelope made her way forward, where the draft was more brisk, and leaned her torso over the railing as far as it would go. If the wind thundered loudly enough in her ears, perhaps she wouldn’t hear the happy trill of Ruby’s laughter—so witty, the Duke of Olympia—or the incessant rattle of Mrs. Morrison’s chatter, delivering the promising news to her friends.
    Not that she was in any way
jealous
. Goodness, no! Mrs. Morrison was quite right. Dukes were designed for heiresses, and dependents were designed for . . . well, for no one at all, really. Themselves. For small adventures, like the one that had fallen her way two days before departure, when she had just finished arranging the packing of the trunks, and was looking forward to an hour’s unremarkable conversation with an old friend over tea at the Plaza Hotel.
    Which had turned out to be not so unremarkable, after all.
    Still, it was an indignity, to be spoken to like that by a woman like Mrs. Morrison. As if she hadn’t been avoiding such snares since she first found herself in the position of a penniless yet still attractive widow. As if she didn’t know