Bridgerton Collection, Volume 2 - Julia Quinn Page 0,55

how to conduct a decent conversation these days.”

Penelope stole a frantic glance over at Lady Bridgerton to see if she was upset by the insult—after all, she had been trying to marry off her oversized brood for a decade now. But Lady Bridgerton didn’t look the least bit upset. In fact, she appeared to be stifling laughter.

Stifling laughter and inching away, taking Hyacinth and Felicity with her.

Sneaky little traitors.

Ah, well, Penelope shouldn’t complain. She’d wanted an escape from the Bridgertons, hadn’t she? But she didn’t particularly enjoy having Felicity and Hyacinth think they’d somehow pulled one over on her.

“They’re gone now,” Lady Danbury cackled, “and a good thing it is, too. Those two gels haven’t an intelligent thing to say between them.”

“Oh, now, that isn’t true,” Penelope felt compelled to protest. “Felicity and Hyacinth are both very bright.”

“I never said they weren’t smart,” Lady D replied acidly, “just that they haven’t an intelligent thing to say. But don’t worry,” she added, giving Penelope a reassuring—reassuring? whoever heard of Lady Danbury being reassuring?—pat on the arm. “It’s not their fault that their conversation is useless. They’ll grow out of it. People are like fine wines. If they start off good, they only get better with age.”

Penelope had actually been glancing slightly to the right of Lady Danbury’s face, peering over her shoulder at a man who she thought might be Colin (but wasn’t), but this brought her attention right back to where the countess wanted it.

“Fine wines?” Penelope echoed.

“Hmmph. And here I thought you weren’t listening.”

“No, of course I was listening.” Penelope felt her lips tugging into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “I was just . . . distracted.”

“Looking for that Bridgerton boy, no doubt.”

Penelope gasped.

“Oh, don’t look so shocked. It’s written all over your face. I’m just surprised he hasn’t noticed.”

“I imagine he has,” Penelope mumbled.

“Has he? Hmmph.” Lady Danbury frowned, the corners of her mouth spilling into long vertical wrinkles on either side of her chin. “Doesn’t speak well of him that he hasn’t done anything about it.”

Penelope’s heart ached. There was something oddly sweet about the old lady’s faith in her, as if men like Colin fell in love with women like Penelope on a regular basis. Penelope had had to beg him to kiss her, for heaven’s sake. And look how that had ended up. He’d left the house in a fit of temper and they hadn’t spoken for three days.

“Well, don’t worry over him,” Lady Danbury said quite suddenly. “We’ll find you someone else.”

Penelope delicately cleared her throat. “Lady Danbury, have you made me your project?”

The old lady beamed, her smile a bright and glowing streak in her wrinkled face. “Of course! I’m surprised it has taken you so long to figure it out.”

“But why?” Penelope asked, truly unable to fathom it.

Lady Danbury sighed. The sound wasn’t sad—more wistful, really. “Would you mind if we sat down for a spell? These old bones aren’t what they used to be.”

“Of course,” Penelope said quickly, feeling terrible that she’d never once considered Lady Danbury’s age as they stood there in the stuffy ballroom. But the countess was so vibrant; it was difficult to imagine her ailing or weak.

“Here we are,” Penelope said, taking her arm and leading her to a nearby chair. Once Lady Danbury was settled, Penelope took a seat beside her. “Are you more comfortable now? Would you like something to drink?”

Lady Danbury nodded gratefully, and Penelope signaled to a footman to bring them two glasses of lemonade, since she didn’t want to leave the countess while she was looking so pale.

“I’m not as young as I used to be,” Lady Danbury told her once the footman had hied off to the refreshment table.

“None of us are,” Penelope replied. It could have been a flip comment, but it was spoken with wry warmth, and somehow Penelope thought that Lady Danbury would appreciate the sentiment.

She was right. Lady D chuckled and sent Penelope an appreciative glance before saying, “The older I get, the more I realize that most of the people in this world are fools.”

“You’re only just figuring that out now?” Penelope asked, not to mock, but rather because, given Lady Danbury’s usual demeanor, it was difficult to believe that she hadn’t reached that conclusion years ago.

Lady Danbury laughed heartily. “No, sometimes I think I knew that before I was born. What I’m realizing now is that it’s time I did something about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“I couldn’t care less what happens to the fools