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Chapter no 3

Romancing Mister Bridgerton (Bridgertons, #4)

This Author would be remiss if it was not mentioned that the most talked-about moment at last nightโ€™s birthday ball at Bridgerton

House was not the rousing toast to Lady Bridgerton (age not to be revealed) but rather Lady Danburyโ€™s impertinent offer of one thousand pounds to whomever unmasksโ€ฆ

Me.

Do your worst, ladies and gentlemen of the ton. You havenโ€™t a prayer of solving this mystery.

LADY WHISTLEDOWNโ€™S SOCIETY PAPERS, 12 APRIL 1824

Precisely three minutes were required for news of Lady Danburyโ€™s

outrageous dare to spread throughout the ballroom. Penelope knew this to be true because she happened to be facing a large (and, according to Kate

Bridgerton, extremely precise) grandfather clock when Lady Danbury made her announcement. At the words, โ€œOne thousand pounds to the person who unmasks Lady Whistledown,โ€ the clock read forty-four minutes past ten.

The long hand had advanced no farther than forty-seven when Nigel

Berbrooke stumbled into the rapidly growing circle of people surrounding Lady Danbury and proclaimed her latest scheme โ€œscrumbly good fun!โ€

And if Nigel had heard about it, that meant everyone had, because Penelopeโ€™s brother-in-law was not known for his intelligence, his attention

span, or his listening ability.

Nor, Penelope thought wryly, for his vocabulary. Scrumbly, indeed. โ€œAnd who do you think Lady Whistledown is?โ€ Lady Danbury asked

Nigel.

โ€œNo earthly idea,โ€ he admitted. โ€œAinโ€™t me, thatโ€™s all I know!โ€ โ€œI think we all know that,โ€ Lady D replied.

โ€œWho do you think it is?โ€ Penelope asked Colin.

He offered her a one-shouldered shrug. โ€œIโ€™ve been out of town too often to speculate.โ€

โ€œDonโ€™t be silly,โ€ Penelope said. โ€œYour cumulative time in London certainly adds up to enough parties and routs to form a few theories.โ€

But he just shook his head. โ€œI really couldnโ€™t say.โ€

Penelope stared at him for a moment longer than was necessary, or, in all honesty, socially acceptable. There was something odd in Colinโ€™s eyes. Something fleeting and elusive. The ton often thought him nothing more than a devil-may-care charmer, but he was far more intelligent than he let on, and sheโ€™d have bet her life that he had a few suspicions.

But for some reason, he wasnโ€™t willing to share them with her.

โ€œWho do you think it is?โ€ Colin asked, avoiding her question with one of his own. โ€œYouโ€™ve been out in society just about as long as Lady Whistledown. Surely you must have thought about it.โ€

Penelope looked about the ballroom, her eyes resting on this person and that, before finally returning to the small crowd around her. โ€œI think it could very well be Lady Danbury,โ€ she replied. โ€œWouldnโ€™t that be a clever joke on everyone?โ€

Colin looked over at the elderly lady, who was having a grand old time talking up her latest scheme. She was thumping her cane on the ground, chattering animatedly, and smiling like a cat with cream, fish, and an entire roast turkey. โ€œIt makes sense,โ€ he said thoughtfully, โ€œin a rather perverse sort of way.โ€

Penelope felt the corners of her mouth twist. โ€œSheโ€™s nothing if not perverse.โ€

She watched Colin watching Lady D for another few seconds, then quietly said, โ€œBut you donโ€™t think itโ€™s her.โ€

Colin slowly turned his head to face her, raising one brow in silent question.

โ€œI can tell by the expression on your face,โ€ Penelope explained.

He grinned, that loose easy grin he so often used in public. โ€œAnd here I thought I was inscrutable.โ€

โ€œAfraid not,โ€ she replied. โ€œNot to me, anyway.โ€

Colin sighed. โ€œI fear it will never be my destiny to be a dark, brooding hero.โ€

โ€œYou may well find yourself some oneโ€™s hero,โ€ Penelope allowed. โ€œThereโ€™s time for you yet. But dark and brooding?โ€ She smiled. โ€œNot very likely.โ€

โ€œToo bad for me,โ€ he said jauntily, giving her another one of his well- known smilesโ€”this one the lopsided, boyish one. โ€œThe dark, brooding

types get all the women.โ€

Penelope coughed discreetly, a bit surprised heโ€™d be speaking of such

things with her, not to mention the fact that Colin Bridgerton had never had trouble attracting women. He was grinning at her, awaiting a response, and she was trying to decide whether the correct reaction was polite maidenly

outrage or a laugh and an Iโ€™m-such-a-good-sport sort of chuckle, when Eloise quite literally skidded to a halt in front of them.

โ€œDid you hear the news?โ€ Eloise asked breathlessly.

โ€œWere you running?โ€ Penelope returned. Truly a remarkable feat in such a crowded ballroom.

โ€œLady Danbury has offered one thousand pounds to whomever unmasks Lady Whistledown!โ€

โ€œWe know,โ€ Colin said in that vaguely superior tone exclusive to older brothers.

Eloise let out a disappointed sigh. โ€œYou do?โ€

Colin motioned to Lady Danbury, who was still a scant few yards away. โ€œWe were right here when it happened.โ€

Eloise looked annoyed in the extreme, and Penelope knew exactly what she was thinking (and would most probably relate to her the following afternoon). It was one thing to miss an important moment. It was another entirely to discover that oneโ€™s brother had seen the entire thing.

โ€œWell, people are already talking about it,โ€ Eloise said. โ€œGushing, really. I havenโ€™t been witness to such excitement in years.โ€

Colin turned to Penelope and murmured, โ€œThis is why I so often choose to leave the country.โ€

Penelope tried not to smile.

โ€œI know youโ€™re talking about me and I donโ€™t care,โ€ Eloise continued, barely pausing to take a breath. โ€œI tell you, the ton has gone mad. Everyone

โ€”and I mean everyoneโ€”is speculating on her identity, although the shrewdest ones wonโ€™t say a word. Donโ€™t want others to win on their hunch, donโ€™t you know.โ€

โ€œI think,โ€ Colin announced, โ€œthat I am not so in need of a thousand pounds that I care to worry about this.โ€

โ€œItโ€™s a lot of money,โ€ Penelope said thoughtfully.

He turned to her in disbelief. โ€œDonโ€™t tell me youโ€™re going to join in this ridiculous game.โ€

She cocked her head to the side, lifting her chin in what she hoped was an enigmaticโ€”or if not enigmatic, at the very least slightly mysteriousโ€” manner. โ€œI am not so well heeled that I can ignore the offer of one thousand pounds,โ€ she said.

โ€œPerhaps if we work togetherโ€ฆโ€ Eloise suggested. โ€œGod save me,โ€ was Colinโ€™s reply.

Eloise ignored him, saying to Penelope, โ€œWe could split the money.โ€

Penelope opened her mouth to reply, but Lady Danburyโ€™s cane suddenly came into view, waving wildly through the air. Colin had to take a quick step to the side just to avoid getting his ear clipped off.

โ€œMiss Featherington!โ€ Lady D boomed. โ€œYou havenโ€™t told me who you

suspect.โ€

โ€œNo, Penelope,โ€ Colin said, a rather smirky smile on his face, โ€œyou havenโ€™t.โ€

Penelopeโ€™s first instinct was to mumble something under her breath and hope that Lady Danburyโ€™s age had left her hard enough of hearing that she would assume that any lack of understanding was the fault of her own ears and not Penelopeโ€™s lips. But even without glancing to her side, she could feel Colinโ€™s presence, sense his quirky, cocky grin egging her on, and she found herself standing a little straighter, with her chin perched just a little higher than usual.

He made her more confident, more daring. He made her moreโ€ฆherself.

Or at least the herself she wished she could be.

โ€œActually,โ€ Penelope said, looking Lady Danbury almost in the eye, โ€œI think itโ€™s you.โ€

A collective gasp echoed around them.

And for the first time in her life, Penelope Featherington found herself at the very center of attention.

Lady Danbury stared at her, her pale blue eyes shrewd and assessing.

And then the most amazing thing happened. Her lips began to twitch at the corners. Then they widened until Penelope realized she was not just smiling, but positively grinning.

โ€œI like you, Penelope Featherington,โ€ Lady Danbury said, tapping her right on the toe with her cane. โ€œI wager half the ballroom is of the same notion, but no one else has the mettle to tell me so.โ€

โ€œI really donโ€™t, either,โ€ Penelope admitted, grunting slightly as Colin elbowed her in the ribs.

โ€œObviously,โ€ Lady Danbury said with a strange light in her eyes, โ€œyou do.โ€

Penelope didnโ€™t know what to say to this. She looked at Colin, who was smiling at her encouragingly, then she looked back to Lady Danbury, who looked almostโ€ฆmaternal.

Which had to be the strangest thing of all. Penelope rather doubted that Lady Danbury had given maternal looks to her own children.

โ€œIsnโ€™t it nice,โ€ the older lady said, leaning in so that only Penelope could hear her words, โ€œto discover that weโ€™re not exactly what we thought we were?โ€

And then she walked away, leaving Penelope wondering if maybe she wasnโ€™t quite what sheโ€™d thought she was.

Maybeโ€”just maybeโ€”she was something a little bit more.

The next day was a Monday, which meant that Penelope took tea with the Bridgerton ladies at Number Five. She didnโ€™t know when, precisely, sheโ€™d fallen into that habit, but it had been so for close to a decade, and if she didnโ€™t show up on a Monday afternoon, she rather thought Lady Bridgerton would send someone over to fetch her.

Penelope rather enjoyed the Bridgerton custom of tea and biscuits in the afternoon. It wasnโ€™t a widespread ritual; indeed, Penelope knew of no one

else who made a daily habit of it. But Lady Bridgerton insisted that she simply could not last from luncheon to supper, especially not when they were observing town hours and eating so late at night. And thus, every

afternoon at four, she and any number of her children (and often a friend or two) met in the informal upstairs drawing room for a snack.

There was drizzle in the air, even though it was a fairly warm day, so

Penelope took her black parasol with her for the short walk over to Number Five. It was a route sheโ€™d followed hundreds of times before, a few houses down to the corner of Mount and Davies Street, then along the edge of Berkeley Square to Bruton Street. But she was in an odd mood that day, a

little bit lighthearted and maybe even a little bit childish, so she decided to cut across the northern corner of the Berkeley Square green for no other reason than she liked the squishy sound her boots made on the wet grass.

It was Lady Danburyโ€™s fault. It had to be. Sheโ€™d been positively giddy since their encounter the night before.

โ€œNot. What. I. Thought. I. Was,โ€ she sang to herself as she walked, adding a word every time the soles of her boots sank into the ground. โ€œSomething more. Something more.โ€

She reached a particularly wet patch and moved like a skater on the grass, singing (softly, of course; she hadnโ€™t changed so much from the night before that she actually wanted someone to hear her singing in public), โ€œSomething moooore,โ€ as she slid forward.

Which was, of course (since it was fairly well establishedโ€”in her own mind, at leastโ€”that she had the worst timing in the history of civilization), right when she heard a male voice call out her name.

She skidded to a halt and gave fervent thanks that she caught her

balance at the very last moment instead of landing on her bottom on the wet and messy grass.

It was, of course, him.

โ€œColin!โ€ she said in a slightly embarrassed voice, holding still as she waited for him to reach her side. โ€œWhat a surprise.โ€

He looked like he was trying not to smile. โ€œWere you dancing?โ€ โ€œDancing?โ€ she echoed.

โ€œIt looked like you were dancing.โ€

โ€œOh. No.โ€ She swallowed guiltily, because even though she wasnโ€™t technically lying, it felt as if she were. โ€œOf course not.โ€

His eyes crinkled slightly at the corners. โ€œPity, then. I would have felt compelled to partner you, and Iโ€™ve never danced in Berkeley Square.โ€

If heโ€™d said the same to her just two days earlier, she would have laughed at his joke and let him be the witty and charming one. But she must have heard Lady Danburyโ€™s voice at the back of her head again, because she suddenly decided she didnโ€™t want to be the same old Penelope Featherington.

She decided to join in the fun.

She smiled a smile she didnโ€™t think sheโ€™d even known how to smile. It was wicked and she was mysterious, and she knew it wasnโ€™t all in her head because Colinโ€™s eyes widened markedly as she murmured, โ€œThatโ€™s a shame. Itโ€™s rather enjoyable.โ€

โ€œPenelope Featherington,โ€ he drawled, โ€œI thought you said you werenโ€™t dancing.โ€

She shrugged. โ€œI lied.โ€

โ€œIf thatโ€™s the case,โ€ he said, โ€œthen surely this must be my dance.โ€

Penelopeโ€™s insides suddenly felt very queer. This was why she shouldnโ€™t let whispers from Lady Danbury go to her head. She might manage daring and charm for a fleeting moment, but she had no idea how to follow through.

Unlike Colin, obviously, who was grinning devilishly as he held his arms out in perfect waltz position.

โ€œColin,โ€ she gasped, โ€œweโ€™re in Berkeley Square!โ€

โ€œI know. I just finished telling you Iโ€™ve never danced here, donโ€™t you recall?โ€

โ€œButโ€”โ€

Colin crossed his arms. โ€œTsk. Tsk. You canโ€™t issue a dare like that and then try to weasel out of it. Besides, dancing in Berkeley Square seems like the sort of thing a person ought to do at least once in his life, wouldnโ€™t you agree?โ€

โ€œAnyone might see,โ€ she whispered urgently.

He shrugged, trying to hide the fact that he was rather entertained by her reaction. โ€œI donโ€™t care. Do you?โ€

Her cheeks grew pink, then red, and it seemed to take her a great deal of effort to form the words, โ€œPeople will think you are courting me.โ€

He watched her closely, not understanding why she was disturbed. Who cared if people thought they were courting? The rumor would soon be proven false, and theyโ€™d have a good laugh at societyโ€™s expense. It was on

the tip of his tongue to say, Hang society, but he held silent. There was something lurking deep in the brown depths of her eyes, some emotion he couldnโ€™t even begin to identify.

An emotion he suspected heโ€™d never even felt.

And he realized that the last thing he wanted to do was hurt Penelope Featherington. She was his sisterโ€™s best friend, and moreover, she was, plain and simple, a very nice girl.

He frowned. He supposed he shouldnโ€™t be calling her a girl anymore. At eight-and-twenty she was no more a girl than he was still a boy at three- and-thirty.

Finally, with great care and what he hoped was a good dose of sensitivity, he asked, โ€œIs there a reason why we should worry if people think we are courting?โ€

She closed her eyes, and for a moment Colin actually thought she might be in pain. When she opened them, her gaze was almost bittersweet. โ€œIt would be very funny, actually,โ€ she said. โ€œAt first.โ€

He said nothing, just waited for her to continue.

โ€œBut eventually it would become apparent that we are not actually courting, and it wouldโ€ฆโ€ She stopped, swallowed, and Colin realized that she was not as composed on the inside as she hoped to appear.

โ€œIt would be assumed,โ€ she continued, โ€œthat you were the one to break things off, becauseโ€”well, it just would be.โ€

He didnโ€™t argue with her. He knew that her words were true.

She let out a sad-sounding exhale. โ€œI donโ€™t want to subject myself to that. Even Lady Whistledown would probably write about it. How could she not? It would be far too juicy a piece of gossip for her to resist.โ€

โ€œIโ€™m sorry, Penelope,โ€ Colin said. He wasnโ€™t sure what he was apologizing for, but it still seemed like the right thing to say.

She acknowledged him with a tiny nod. โ€œI know I shouldnโ€™t care what other people say, but I do.โ€

He found himself turning slightly away as he considered her words. Or maybe he was considering the tone of her voice. Or maybe both.

Heโ€™d always thought of himself as somewhat above society. Not really outside of it, precisely, since he certainly moved within it and usually enjoyed himself quite a bit. But heโ€™d always assumed that his happiness did not depend upon the opinions of others.

But maybe he wasnโ€™t thinking about this the right way. It was easy to assume that you didnโ€™t care about the opinions of others when those

opinions were consistently favorable. Would he be so quick to dismiss the rest of society if they treated him the way they treated Penelope?

Sheโ€™d never been ostracized, never been made the subject of scandal.

She just hadnโ€™t beenโ€ฆpopular.

Oh, people were polite, and the Bridgertons had all befriended her, but most of Colinโ€™s memories of Penelope involved her standing at the perimeter of a ballroom, trying to look anywhere but at the dancing couples, clearly pretending that she really didnโ€™t want to dance. That was usually when he went over and asked her himself. She always looked grateful for

the request, but also a little bit embarrassed, because they both knew he was doing it at least a little bit because he felt sorry for her.

Colin tried to put himself in her shoes. It wasnโ€™t easy. Heโ€™d always been popular; his friends had looked up to him at school and the women had flocked to his side when heโ€™d entered society. And as much as he could say he didnโ€™t care what people thought, when it came right down to itโ€ฆ

He rather liked being liked.

Suddenly he didnโ€™t know what to say. Which was strange, because he always knew what to say. In fact, he was somewhat famous for always knowing what to say. It was, he reflected, probably one of the reasons he was so well liked.

But he sensed that Penelopeโ€™s feelings depended on his next words, and at some point in the last ten minutes, her feelings had become very important to him.

โ€œYouโ€™re right,โ€ he finally said, deciding that it was always a good idea to tell someone she was correct. โ€œIt was very insensitive of me. Perhaps we should start anew?โ€

She blinked. โ€œI beg your pardon?โ€

He waved his hand about, as if the motion could explain everything. โ€œMake a fresh start.โ€

She looked quite adorably confused, which confused him, since heโ€™d never thought Penelope the least bit adorable.

โ€œBut weโ€™ve known each other for twelve years,โ€ she said.

โ€œHas it really been that long?โ€ He searched his brain, but for the life of him, he couldnโ€™t recall the event of their first meeting. โ€œNever mind that. I meant just for this afternoon, you ninny.โ€

She smiled, clearly in spite of herself, and he knew that calling her a ninny had been the exact right thing to do, although in all truth he had no idea why.

โ€œHere we go,โ€ he said slowly, drawing his words out with a long flourish of his arm. โ€œYou are walking across Berkeley Square, and you spy me in the distance. I call out your name, and you reply by sayingโ€ฆโ€

Penelope caught her lower lip between her teeth, trying, for some unknown reason, to contain her smile. What magical star had Colin been born under, that he always knew what to say? He was the pied piper, leaving nothing but happy hearts and smiling faces in his wake. Penelope would have bet moneyโ€”far more than the thousand pounds Lady Danbury had offered upโ€”that she was not the only woman in London desperately in love with the third Bridgerton.

He dipped his head to the side and then righted it in a prompting sort of motion.

โ€œI would replyโ€ฆโ€ Penelope said slowly. โ€œI would replyโ€ฆโ€

Colin waited two seconds, then said, โ€œReally, any words will do.โ€

Penelope had planned to fix a bright grin on her face, but she discovered that the smile on her lips was quite genuine. โ€œColin!โ€ she said, trying to sound as if sheโ€™d just been surprised by his arrival. โ€œWhat are you doing

about?โ€

โ€œExcellent reply,โ€ he said.

She shook her finger at him. โ€œYouโ€™re breaking out of character.โ€

โ€œYes, yes, of course. Apologies.โ€ He paused, blinked twice, then said, โ€œHere we are. How about this: Much the same as you, I imagine. Heading to Number Five for tea.โ€

Penelope found herself falling into the rhythm of the conversation. โ€œYou sound as if youโ€™re just going for a visit. Donโ€™t you live there?โ€

He grimaced. โ€œHopefully just for the next week. A fortnight at most. Iโ€™m trying to find a new place to live. I had to give up the lease on my old set of rooms when I left for Cyprus, and I havenโ€™t found a suitable replacement yet. I had a bit of business down on Piccadilly and thought Iโ€™d walk back.โ€

โ€œIn the rain?โ€

He shrugged. โ€œIt wasnโ€™t raining when I left earlier this morning. And even now itโ€™s just drizzle.โ€

Just drizzle, Penelope thought. Drizzle that clung to his obscenely long eyelashes, framing eyes of such perfect green that more than one young lady had been moved to write (extremely bad) poetry about them. Even Penelope, levelheaded as she liked to think herself, had spent many a night in bed, staring at the ceiling and seeing nothing but those eyes.

Just drizzle, indeed. โ€œPenelope?โ€

She snapped to attention. โ€œRight. Yes. Iโ€™m going to your motherโ€™s for tea as well. I do so every Monday. And often on other days, too,โ€ she admitted. โ€œWhen thereโ€™s, er, nothing interesting occurring at my house.โ€

โ€œNo need to sound so guilty about it. My motherโ€™s a lovely woman. If she wants you over for tea, you should go.โ€

Penelope had a bad habit of trying to hear between the lines of peopleโ€™s conversations, and she had a suspicion that Colin was really saying that he didnโ€™t blame her if she wanted to escape her own mother from time to time.

Which somehow, unaccountably, made her feel a little sad.

He rocked on his heels for a moment, then said, โ€œWell, I shouldnโ€™t keep you out here in the rain.โ€

She smiled, since theyโ€™d been standing outside for at least fifteen minutes. Still, if he wanted to continue with the ruse, she would do so as well. โ€œIโ€™m the one with the parasol,โ€ she pointed out.

His lips curved slightly. โ€œSo you are. But still, I wouldnโ€™t be much of a gentleman if I didnโ€™t steer you toward a more hospitable environment.

Speaking of whichโ€ฆโ€ He frowned, looking around. โ€œSpeaking of what?โ€

โ€œOf being a gentleman. I believe weโ€™re supposed to see to the welfare of ladies.โ€

โ€œAnd?โ€

He crossed his arms. โ€œShouldnโ€™t you have a maid with you?โ€

โ€œI live just around the corner,โ€ she said, a little bit deflated that he didnโ€™t remember that. She and her sister were best friends with two of his sisters, after all. Heโ€™d even walked her home once or twice. โ€œOn Mount Street,โ€ she added, when his frown did not dissipate.

He squinted slightly, looking in the direction of Mount Street, although she had no idea what he hoped to accomplish by doing so.

โ€œOh, for heavenโ€™s sake, Colin. Itโ€™s just near the corner of Davies Street.

It canโ€™t be more than a five-minute walk to your motherโ€™s. Four, if Iโ€™m feeling exceptionally sprightly.โ€

โ€œI was just looking to see if there were any darkened or recessed spots.โ€ He turned back to face her. โ€œWhere a criminal might lurk.โ€

โ€œIn Mayfair?โ€

โ€œIn Mayfair,โ€ he said grimly. โ€œI really think you ought to have a maid accompany you when you journey to and fro. I should hate for something to happen to you.โ€

She was oddly touched by his concern, even though she knew he would have extended equal thoughtfulness to just about every female of his acquaintance. That was simply the sort of man he was.

โ€œI can assure you that I observe all of the usual proprieties when I am traveling longer distances,โ€ she said. โ€œBut truly, this is so close. Just a few blocks, really. Even my mother doesnโ€™t mind.โ€

Colinโ€™s jaw suddenly looked quite stiff.

โ€œNot to mention,โ€ Penelope added, โ€œthat I am eight-and-twenty.โ€ โ€œWhat has that to do with anything? I am three-and-thirty, if you care to

know.โ€

She knew that, of course, since she knew almost everything about him. โ€œColin,โ€ she said, a slightly annoyed whine creeping into her voice.

โ€œPenelope,โ€ he replied, in exactly the same tone.

She let out a long exhale before saying, โ€œI am quite firmly on the shelf,

Colin. I neednโ€™t worry about all of the rules that plagued me when I was seventeen.โ€

โ€œI hardly thinkโ€”โ€

One of Penelopeโ€™s hands planted itself on her hip. โ€œAsk your sister if you donโ€™t believe me.โ€

He suddenly looked more serious than she had ever seen him. โ€œI make it a point not to ask my sister on matters that relate to common sense.โ€

โ€œColin!โ€ Penelope exclaimed. โ€œThatโ€™s a terrible thing to say.โ€

โ€œI didnโ€™t say I donโ€™t love her. I didnโ€™t even say I donโ€™t like her. I adore Eloise, as you well know. Howeverโ€”โ€

โ€œAnything that begins with however has got to be bad,โ€ Penelope muttered.

โ€œEloise,โ€ he said with uncharacteristic high-handedness, โ€œshould be married by now.โ€

Now, that was really too much, especially in that tone of voice. โ€œSome might say,โ€ Penelope returned with a self-righteous little tilt of her chin, โ€œthat you should be married by now, too.โ€

โ€œOh, plโ€”โ€

โ€œYou are, as you so proudly informed me, three-and-thirty.โ€

His expression was slightly amused, but with that pale tinge of irritation which told her he would not remain amused for long. โ€œPenelope, donโ€™t even

โ€”โ€

โ€œAncient!โ€ she chirped.

He swore under his breath, which surprised her, since she didnโ€™t think sheโ€™d ever heard him do so in the presence of a lady. She probably should have taken it as a warning, but she was too riled up. She supposed the old saying was trueโ€”courage spawned more courage.

Or maybe it was more that recklessness emboldened more recklessness, because she just looked at him archly and said, โ€œWerenโ€™t both of your older brothers married by the age of thirty?โ€

To her surprise, Colin merely smiled and crossed his arms as he leaned one shoulder against the tree they were standing beneath. โ€œMy brothers and I are very different men.โ€

It was, Penelope realized, a very telling statement, because so many

members of the ton, including the fabled Lady Whistledown, made so much of the fact that the Bridgerton brothers looked so alike. Some had even gone so far as to call them interchangeable. Penelope hadnโ€™t thought any of them were bothered by thisโ€”in fact, sheโ€™d assumed theyโ€™d all felt flattered by the comparison, since they seemed to like each other so well. But maybe she

was wrong.

Or maybe sheโ€™d never looked closely enough.

Which was rather strange, because she felt as if sheโ€™d spent half her life watching Colin Bridgerton.

One thing she did know, however, and should have remembered, was that if Colin had any sort of a temper, he had never chosen to let her see it. Surely sheโ€™d flattered herself when she thought that her little quip about his brothers marrying before they turned thirty might set him off.

No, his method of attack was a lazy smile, a well-timed joke. If Colin ever lost his temperโ€ฆ

Penelope shook her head slightly, unable even to fathom it. Colin would never lose his temper. At least not in front of her. Heโ€™d have to be really, trulyโ€”no, profoundlyโ€”upset to lose his temper. And that kind of fury could only be sparked by someone you really, truly, profoundly cared about.

Colin liked her well enoughโ€”maybe even better than he liked most peopleโ€”but he didnโ€™t care. Not that way.

โ€œPerhaps we should just agree to disagree,โ€ she finally said.

โ€œOn what?โ€

โ€œErโ€ฆโ€ She couldnโ€™t remember. โ€œEr, on what a spinster may or may not do?โ€

He seemed amused by her hesitation. โ€œThat would probably require that I defer to my younger sisterโ€™s judgment in some capacity, which would be, as Iโ€™m sure you can imagine, very difficult for me.โ€

โ€œBut you donโ€™t mind deferring to my judgment?โ€

His smile was lazy and wicked. โ€œNot if you promise not to tell another living soul.โ€

He didnโ€™t mean it, of course. And she knew he knew she knew he didnโ€™t mean it. But that was his way. Humor and a smile could smooth any path.

And blast him, it worked, because she heard herself sighing and felt herself smiling, and before she knew it she was saying, โ€œEnough! Let us be on our way to your motherโ€™s.โ€

Colin grinned. โ€œDo you think sheโ€™ll have biscuits?โ€

Penelope rolled her eyes. โ€œI know sheโ€™ll have biscuits.โ€

โ€œGood,โ€ he said, taking off at a lope and half dragging her with him. โ€œI do love my family, but I really just go for the food.โ€

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