A Wallflower's Efflorescence

CHAPTER 1 - A Newlywed's Solitude

It had been three months since the grandeur of their wedding day had faded into cherished memories, and now Alnwick Castle stood as a silent witness to the quiet and intimate moments shared between Duke Thomas Debling and his new Duchess, Penelope Debling (nee Featherington).

The corridors of Alnwick Castle echoed with the hushed footsteps of Thomas Debling as he made his way through the grand estate. The weight of his responsibilities as master of the castle and husband to Penelope bore heavily upon him, mingling with the anticipation of seeing his beloved wife once more.

Upon his return from a brief excursion, Thomas was met by their venerable butler, Jefferson, whose steady presence and unerring loyalty had served the Debling family for generations. Jefferson greeted Thomas with a respectful bow, his demeanor as impeccable as ever.

"Welcome home, your Grace. I trust your journey was pleasant?" Jefferson greeted with a respectful nod, his voice a steady cadence that echoed through the empty corridors.

"Thank you Jefferson. Indeed it was." Thomas replied, his tone tinged with a hint of weariness as he glanced around the cavernous space. "Is the Duchess about? I've been longing to see her."

Jefferson's expression softened with concern as he regarded his master. "I am afraid the Duchess has not joined us for her afternoon meal, your Grace. She has been in the library since this morning."

Thomas' brow furrowed in concern at the butler's words. Penelope had always possessed a keen intellect and a voracious appetite for knowledge, but the intensity of her seclusion gave him pause. He knew Penelope had always been an avid reader, but to spend the entire day in the library without taking a break for sustenance was unlike her.

"Thank you, Jefferson. I will go to her." The duke said, his voice tinged with a mixture of determination and apprehension as he made his way towards the library.

As he approached the heavy oak door, Thomas' heart quickened with anticipation, his thoughts filled with visions of his beloved Penelope. With a deep breath, he pushed open the doors and stepped into the dimly lit room, his eyes scanning the shelves of books that lined the walls.

There, seated at a polished mahogany desk, sat Penelope, her delicate features illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight as she poured over a tome with furrowed brow. Her ginger curls cascaded in loose waves around her shoulders, framing her face like a halo of light.

"Penelope, my love." Thomas called softly, his voice a gentle caress that broke the silence of the room. He greeted her with a tender smile, crossing the room to stand beside her. "I trust you are well?"

Startled, the redhead looked up from her reading, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight of her husband. "Thomas." She replied, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as she rose from her seat to greet him. "You're home." She kissed him on the lips as she held his face with her hands.

"I am well, thank you. Just lost in thought." Penelope added, her expression momentarily guarded before softening at the sight of her good looking husband.

Thomas' brow furrowed at the hint of hesitation in her voice, his concern deepening. "Is something the matter, my love? I was told you had skipped your afternoon meal. Jefferson is worried, as I am." He inquired gently, reaching out to brush a lock of her hair from her forehead.

Penelope hesitated for a moment, taking a seat at the settee which the duke followed to do so, her gaze dropping to her lap before she spoke. "I.. I erm.. I bled this morning." She confesses, her voice barely above a whisper.

Thomas' concern deepened at her words, his heart quickening with worry. "You bled? Are you injured? Wounded somewhere?" He asked, his mind racing with possibilities. He grabs his wife's hand, and begins to inspect the duchess from head to toe, looking for any sign of bruise or wound she might have suffered.