Bridgerton Collection, Volume 2 - Julia Quinn Page 0,94

feeling that he’d been betrayed by the one person who should have stood by him without question.

It was strange. He knew that Penelope was the one with the secret, the one with the most to lose. This was about her, not him; he knew that, intellectually, at least. But somehow that had ceased to matter. They were a team now, and she had acted without him.

She had no right to put herself in such a precarious position without consulting him first. He was her husband, or would be, and it was his God-given duty to protect her whether she desired it or not.

“Colin?” his mother was saying. “Are you well? You look a bit odd.”

“Make the toast,” he said, turning to Anthony. “Penelope isn’t feeling well, and I need to take her home.”

“You’re not feeling well?” Eloise asked Penelope. “What’s wrong? You didn’t say anything.”

To Penelope’s credit, she managed a rather credible, “A bit of a headache, I’m afraid.”

“Yes, yes, Anthony,” Violet said, “do go ahead and make the toast now so that Colin and Penelope may have their dance. She really can’t leave until you do.”

Anthony nodded his agreement, then motioned for Colin and Penelope to follow him to the front of the ballroom. A trumpeter let out a loud squawk on his horn, signaling the partygoers to be quiet. They all obeyed, probably because they assumed the ensuing announcement would be about Lady Whistledown.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Anthony said loudly, accepting a flute of champagne from a footman. “I know that you are all intrigued by Lady Whistledown’s recent intrusion into our party, but I must entreat you all to remember our purpose for gathering here tonight.”

It should have been a perfect moment, Colin thought dispassionately. It was to have been Penelope’s night of triumph, her night to shine, to show the world how beautiful and lovely and smart she really was.

It was his night to make his intentions well and truly public, to make sure that everyone knew that he had chosen her, and just as importantly, that she had chosen him.

And all he wanted to do was take her by the shoulders and shake her until he ran out of strength. She was jeopardizing everything. She was putting her very future at risk.

“As the head of the Bridgerton family,” Anthony continued, “it gives me great joy whenever one of my siblings chooses a bride. Or groom,” he added with a smile, nodding toward Daphne and Simon.

Colin looked down at Penelope. She was standing very straight and very still in her dress of ice-blue satin. She wasn’t smiling, which must have looked odd to the hundreds of people staring at her. But maybe they would just think she was nervous. There were hundreds of people staring at her, after all. Anyone would be nervous.

Although if one was standing right next to her, as Colin was, one could see the panic in her eyes, the rapid rise and fall of her chest as her breathing grew faster and more erratic.

She was scared.

Good. She should be scared. Scared of what could happen to her if her secret came out. Scared of what would happen to her once they had a chance to talk.

“Therefore,” Anthony concluded, “it gives me great pleasure to lift my glass in a toast to my brother Colin, and his soon-to-be bride, Penelope Featherington. To Colin and Penelope!”

Colin looked down at his hand and realized that someone had placed a glass of champagne in it. He lifted his glass, started to raise it to his lips, then thought the better of it and touched it to Penelope’s mouth instead. The crowd cheered wildly, and he watched as she took a sip, and then another and another, forced to keep drinking until he removed the glass, which he did not do until she was finished.

Then he realized that his childish display of power had left him without a drink, which he badly needed, so he plucked Penelope’s glass from her hand and downed it in a single gulp.

The crowd cheered even harder.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “We’re going to dance now. We’re going to dance until the rest of the party joins us and we’re no longer the center of attention. And then you and I will slip outside. And then we will talk.”

Her chin moved in a barely perceptible nod.

He took her hand and led her onto the dance floor, placing his other hand at her waist as the orchestra began the first strains