Impudent man. Once the real duke arrived, he would then sit among the denizens of Shropshire like the mortal he was. Her smile deepened. She longed for that day. The final reckoning come to fruition. Mama had been right. As you sow, so shall you reap.

Her gaze drifted back to the front of the church. Papa stood on the other side of the altar, one hand gripping the pulpit for support. He scarcely looked up from the parchment as he haltingly read, squinting through his spectacles. She silently encouraged him. Come now, Papa. You can do it.

He was no longer the rousing orator he once had been. He had not been that in some time. Not since his last fit of apoplexy, but as long as Papa was still here with her, and he could stand up in front of his congregation and read the sermon she had written for him, then all was not lost. He still enjoyed society, and society enjoyed him. It was enough.

Imogen shifted restlessly in her pew. Penning—no, that was not correct. He had ceased to be the Duke of Penning for nigh on a year. One would think that fact would have fully absorbed into her head by now.

Mr. Butler attempted to hide his yawn behind his hand. Rude man.

Why was he even here today? He rarely ever put in an appearance at the vicarage—or Shropshire, for that matter. It was typically left to his mother to grace the hallowed confines of their country church.

To be fair, he was still glorious. Dark locks and silvery gray eyes. He was a dark angel. Imogen well knew that angels came in all shapes, however. Ever since she was a child and found herself launched into a pond on the Penning estate, choking on pond scum, the little lordling’s laughter ringing in her ears, she knew what manner of angel he happened to be.

The boy had been a devil then, and the man was no better now. A smile again threatened to overtake her lips. He would soon learn that the world no longer bowed down to him.

Papa finished and the congregation lifted as one to their feet.

Imogen collected Papa’s cane she was charged with keeping for him, and stepped out from her pew. Moving forward, she patiently held out her gloved hand for Papa to accept as he stepped down from the dais. He took his cane, gripping it with one hand and latched onto her arm with his other, leaning a significant amount of his weight on her. Fortunately she was sturdy. Helping Papa to and fro over the last couple years had developed muscles where none had previously existed.