Bridgerton Collection, Volume 2 - Julia Quinn Page 0,62

their eyes caught as she added, “And it would break my heart if she turned out to be someone like Lady Twombley.”

Colin took her hand and squeezed it. He couldn’t help himself.

“Well said, Miss Featherington!” Lady Danbury exclaimed, clapping her hands together in delight. “That is exactly what I was thinking, but I couldn’t find the words.” She turned to Colin with a smile. “She’s very clever, you know.”

“I know,” he replied, a strange, new pride brimming within him.

“Most people don’t notice it,” Lady Danbury said, twisting so that her words were directed to—and probably only heard by—Colin.

“I know,” he murmured, “but I do.” He had to smile at Lady Danbury’s behavior, which he was certain was chosen in part to annoy the devil out of Cressida, who did not like to be ignored.

“I will not be insulted by that . . . by that nothing!” Cressida fumed. She turned to Penelope with a seething glare and hissed, “I demand an apology.”

Penelope just nodded slowly and said, “That is your prerogative.”

And then she said nothing more.

Colin had to physically wipe the smile from his face.

Cressida clearly wanted to say more (and perhaps commit an act of violence while she was at it), but she held back, presumably because it was obvious that Penelope was among friends. She had always been renowned for her poise, however, and thus Colin was not surprised when she composed herself, turned to Lady Danbury, and said, “What do you plan to do about the thousand pounds?”

Lady Danbury looked at her for the longest second Colin had ever endured, then she turned to him—dear God, the last thing he wanted to do was get involved in this disaster—and asked, “And what do you think, Mr. Bridgerton? Is our Lady Twombley telling the truth?”

Colin gave her a practiced smile. “You must be mad if you think I’m going to offer an opinion.”

“You’re a surprisingly wise man, Mr. Bridgerton,” Lady Danbury said approvingly.

He nodded modestly, then ruined the effect by saying, “I pride myself on it.” But what the hell—it wasn’t every day a man was called wise by Lady Danbury.

Most of her adjectives, after all, were of the decidedly negative variety.

Cressida didn’t even bother to bat her eyelashes at him; as Colin had already reflected, she wasn’t stupid, just mean, and after a dozen years out in society, she had to know that he didn’t much like her and certainly wasn’t about to fall prey to her charms. Instead, she looked squarely at Lady Danbury and kept her voice evenly modulated as she asked, “What shall we do now, my lady?”

Lady Danbury’s lips pursed together until she almost appeared mouthless, then she said, “I need proof.”

Cressida blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“Proof!” Lady Danbury’s cane slammed against the floor with remarkable force. “Which letter of the word did you not understand? I’m not handing over a king’s ransom without proof.”

“One thousand pounds is hardly a king’s ransom,” Cressida said, her expression growing petulant.

Lady Danbury’s eyes narrowed. “Then why are you so keen to get it?”

Cressida was silent for a moment, but there was a tightness in everything about her—her stance, her posture, the line of her jaw. Everyone knew that her husband had left her in bad financial straits, but this was the first time anyone had hinted as such to her face.

“Get me proof,” Lady Danbury said, “and I’ll give you the money.”

“Are you saying,” Cressida said (and even as he despised her, Colin was forced to admire her ability to keep her voice even), “that my word is not good enough?”

“That’s precisely what I’m saying,” Lady Danbury barked. “Good God, girl, you don’t get to be my age without being allowed to insult anyone you please.”

Colin thought he heard Penelope choking, but when he stole a glance at her, there she was at his side, avidly watching the exchange. Her brown eyes were huge and luminous in her face, and she’d regained most of the color she’d lost when Cressida had made her unexpected announcement. In fact, now Penelope looked positively intrigued by the goings-on.

“Fine,” Cressida said, her voice low and deadly. “I will bring you proof in a fortnight’s time.”

“What sort of proof?” Colin asked, then mentally kicked himself. The last thing he wanted to do was embroil himself in this mess, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him.

Cressida turned to him, her face remarkably placid considering the insult she’d just been dealt by Lady Danbury—before countless witnesses. “You shall know it when