Bridgerton Collection, Volume 2 - Julia Quinn Page 0,15

swatted his leg with her cane. “Good choice dancing with this one,” she said. “I’ve always liked her. More brains than the rest of her family put together.”

Penelope opened her mouth to defend at least her younger sister, when Lady Danbury barked out, “Ha!” after barely a second’s pause, adding, “I noticed neither of you contradicted me.”

“It is always a delight to see you, Lady Danbury,” Colin said, giving her just the sort of smile he might have directed at an opera singer.

“Glib, this one is,” Lady Danbury said to Penelope. “You’ll have to watch out for him.”

“It is rarely necessary that I do so,” Penelope said, “as he is most often out of the country.”

“See!” Lady Danbury crowed again. “I told you she was bright.”

“You’ll notice,” Colin said smoothly, “that I did not contradict you.”

The old lady smiled approvingly. “So you didn’t. You’re getting smart in your old age, Mr. Bridgerton.”

“It has occasionally been remarked that I possessed a small modicum of intelligence in my youth, as well.”

“Hmmph. The important word in that sentence being small, of course.”

Colin looked at Penelope through narrowed eyes. She appeared to be choking on laughter.

“We women must look out for one another,” Lady Danbury said to no one in particular, “since it is clear that no one else will do so.”

Colin decided it was definitely time to go. “I think I see my mother.”

“Escape is impossible,” Lady Danbury crowed. “Don’t bother to attempt it, and besides, I know for a fact you don’t see your mother. She’s attending to some brainless twit who tore the hem off her dress.” She turned to Penelope, who was now exerting such effort to control her laughter that her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. “How much did he pay you not to leave him alone with me?”

Penelope quite simply exploded. “I beg your pardon,” she gasped, clasping a hand over her horrified mouth.

“Oh, no, go right ahead,” Colin said expansively. “You’ve been such a help already.”

“You don’t have to give me the twenty pounds,” she said. “I wasn’t planning to.”

“Only twenty pounds?” Lady Danbury asked. “Hmmph. I would have thought I’d be worth at least twenty-five.”

Colin shrugged. “I’m a third son. Perpetually short of funds, I’m afraid.”

“Ha! You’re as plump in the pocket as at least three earls,” Lady Danbury said. “Well, maybe not earls,” she added, after a bit of thought. “But a few viscounts, and most barons, to be sure.”

Colin smiled blandly. “Isn’t it considered impolite to talk about money in mixed company?”

Lady Danbury let out a noise that was either a wheeze or a giggle—Colin wasn’t sure which—then said, “It’s always impolite to talk about money, mixed company or no, but when one is my age, one can do almost anything one pleases.”

“I do wonder,” Penelope mused, “what one can’t do at your age.”

Lady Danbury turned to her. “I beg your pardon?”

“You said that one could do almost anything one pleases.”

Lady Danbury stared at her in disbelief, then cracked a smile. Colin realized he was smiling as well.

“I like her,” Lady D said to him, pointing at Penelope as if she were some sort of statue for sale. “Did I tell you I like her?”

“I believe you did,” he murmured.

Lady Danbury turned to Penelope and said, her face a mask of utter seriousness, “I do believe I couldn’t get away with murder, but that might be all.”

All at once, both Penelope and Colin burst out laughing.

“Eh?” Lady Danbury said. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Penelope gasped. As for Colin, he couldn’t even manage that much.

“It’s not nothing,” Lady D persisted. “And I shall remain here and pester you all night until you tell me what it is. Trust me when I tell you that that is not your desired course of action.”

Penelope wiped a tear from her eye. “I just got through telling him,” she said, motioning with her head toward Colin, “that he probably could get away with murder.”

“Did you, now?” Lady Danbury mused, tapping her cane lightly against the floor the way someone else might scratch her chin while pondering a deep question. “Do you know, but I think you might be right. A more charming man I don’t think London has ever seen.”

Colin raised a brow. “Now, why don’t I think you meant that as a compliment, Lady Danbury?”

“Of course it’s a compliment, you dunderhead.”

Colin turned to Penelope. “As opposed to that, which was clearly a compliment.”

Lady Danbury beamed. “I declare,” she said (or in all truth, declared), “this is the most