I deliver it,” she told him archly. And then she held out her arm, waiting for one of her minions to take it and lead her away.
Which was really quite amazing, because a young man (a besotted fool, from all appearances) materialized at her side as if she’d conjured him by the mere tilt of her arm. A moment later they were gone.
“Well,” Lady Danbury said, after everyone had stood in reflective—or maybe stunned—silence for nearly a minute. “That was unpleasant.”
“I’ve never liked her,” Colin said, to no one in particular. A small crowd had gathered around them, so his words were heard by more than Penelope and Lady Danbury, but he didn’t much care.
“Colin!”
He turned to see Hyacinth skidding through the crowd, dragging along Felicity Featherington as she barreled to his side.
“What did she say?” Hyacinth asked breathlessly. “We tried to get here sooner, but it’s been such a crush.”
“She said exactly what you would have expected her to say,” he replied.
Hyacinth pulled a face. “Men are never good for gossip. I want exact words.”
“It’s very interesting,” Penelope said suddenly.
Something about the thoughtful tone of her voice demanded attention, and in seconds the entire crowd had quieted.
“Speak up,” Lady Danbury instructed. “We’re all listening.”
Colin expected such a demand to make Penelope uncomfortable, but whatever silent infusion of confidence she’d experienced a few minutes earlier was still with her, because she stood straight and proud as she said, “Why would someone reveal herself as Lady Whistledown?”
“For the money, of course,” Hyacinth said.
Penelope shook her head. “Yes, but you’d think that Lady Whistledown would be quite wealthy by now. We’ve all been paying for her paper for years.”
“By God, she’s right!” Lady Danbury exclaimed.
“Perhaps Cressida merely sought attention,” Colin suggested. It wasn’t such an unbelievable hypothesis; Cressida had spent the bulk of her adult life trying to place herself at the center of attention.
“I’d thought of that,” Penelope allowed, “but does she really want this sort of attention? Lady Whistledown has insulted quite a few people over the years.”
“No one who means anything to me,” Colin joked. Then, when it became obvious that his companions required an explanation, he added, “Haven’t you all noticed that Lady Whistledown only insults the people who need insulting?”
Penelope cleared her throat delicately. “I have been referred to as an overripe citrus fruit.”
He waved off her concern. “Except for the bits about fashion, of course.”
Penelope must have decided not to pursue the matter any further, because all she did was give Colin a long, assessing stare before turning back to Lady Danbury and saying, “Lady Whistledown has no motive to reveal herself. Cressida obviously does.”
Lady Danbury beamed, then all at once her face scrunched into a frown. “I suppose I’ll have to give her the fortnight to come up with her ‘proof.’ Fair play and all that.”
“I, for one, will be very interested to see what she comes up with,” Hyacinth put in. She turned to Penelope and added, “I say, you’re very clever, did you know that?”
Penelope blushed modestly, then she turned to her sister and said, “We must be going, Felicity.”
“So soon?” Felicity asked, and to his horror, Colin realized that he’d mouthed the very same words.
“Mother wanted us home early,” Penelope said.
Felicity looked truly perplexed. “She did?”
“She did,” Penelope said emphatically. “And besides that, I am not feeling well.”
Felicity nodded glumly. “I shall instruct a footman to see that our carriage is brought around.”
“No, you stay,” Penelope said, placing a hand on her sister’s arm. “I will see to it.”
“I will see to it,” Colin announced. Really, what was the use of being a gentleman when ladies insisted upon doing things for themselves?
And then, before he even realized what he was doing, he’d facilitated Penelope’s departure, and she left the scene without his ever having apologized to her.
He supposed he should have deemed the evening a failure for that reason alone, but in all truth, he couldn’t quite bring himself to do so.
After all, he’d spent the better part of five minutes holding her hand.
Chapter 12
It wasn’t until Colin woke up the following morning that he realized he still hadn’t apologized to Penelope. Strictly speaking, it probably was no longer necessary that he do so; even though they’d barely spoken at the Macclesfield ball the night before, they seemed to have forged an unspoken truce. Still, Colin didn’t think he’d feel comfortable in his own skin until he spoke the words, “I’m sorry.”
It was the right thing to do.
He was a gentleman, after