The flicker of acknowledgment in her eyes and the faint nod of recognition brought a handsome grin to Mr. Collison’s face. His blue eyes danced as he again bowed. “Until then.”
Penelope watched the two gentlemen stroll down the street, the one named Collison swinging an elegant cane. The tilt of his beaver hat was precisely so, and that coat was cut by a master hand, she could tell.
“Vastly different from the provincials, would you not say, Nilsson?” She glanced at her companion, then gently urged her along the street again.
“I had heard London matuiers were better, but this is scarcely the case."
“Perhaps they are better under proper circumstances,” Penelope replied while eyeing the retreating figures. “I wonder if either of them is in need of money,” she mused as they disappeared from sight. “Mr. Collison appears to enjoy a bet, from what was hinted at. Maybe. .
A repressive look from Miss Nilsson ended that line of speculation.
When they returned to the house on Upper Brook Street, Penelope was greeted by an indignant Muffin. Nothing would do but that she take her up and soothe wounded sensibilities with much stroking and gentle words.
“How you do spoil that cat,” Nilsson declared, a fond look in her eyes contrary to the asperity of her words.
“Other than you and Henri, she is the only one who gives me affection without expecting something in return.” And then Penelope acknowledged to herself that the two adults were both on her staff and well-paid for their devotion. “Most likely she would desert me if I failed to reward her with a kipper or two now and again.”
She turned away to remove her pelisse and thus missed the look of pity on her companion’s face.
“I found it!” a jubilant Letty cried as she sailed down the hall to greet them. “The Collison ball is tomorrow evening.”
“We met a Collison while on Bond Street. Young Mr. Collison saved me from a nasty fall.”
“Mister? Hardly, my girl. The only young Collison male is Lord Stephen. His elder brother is Viscount Bremerton. Nonetheless, Lord Stephen is possessed of a sizable income, as his father has settled a handsome estate on him, provided he can manage not to gamble it away. If you wish, you may be properly introduced tomorrow evening.”
“What did I tell you, Nilsson? One of them is most likely in need of money,” Penelope murmured to her companion.
Her cousin’s sharp ears caught the remark and she rounded upon Penelope with a narrow look. “You are a fool if you think to take on a gamester for a husband. Your fortune will be gone like a thistledown if you do. Have you forgotten that your husband will have complete control over your money once you wed?”
Penelope cradled her cat in her arms, absently scratching her under the chin while meeting the steady gaze from Miss Nilsson. “It seems that finding a husband will not be quite as simple as I had hoped.” It would be ideal if she could find someone else to advise her on the matter. But who might serve? What a pity she didn’t have another cousin in town, one more up to snuff.
Chapter 2
The Collison ball was far more grand than Penelope had expected. Flambeaux blazed from their holders to either side of the canopied entrance as the carriage drew up before the house. Linkboys dashed about with additional flares, and an ornately dressed footman assisted them from the carnage with a flourish.
Once inside, the decorations surpassed anything she had thought would be done for a coming-out ball. Masses of spring flowers were everywhere, with pink silk draping the walls. The hundreds of candles were tinted a matching pink and the honored Lady Anne was dressed in the same hue. Her gown was a confection of silk and lace that made Penelope think of everything that was sweet and feminine.
Lord and Lady Collison appeared delighted to see the reclusive Miss Lettice Winthrop attend their little affair, as Lady Collison so quaintly called it.
“Your cousin?” she queried as Letty presented Penelope.
“I suspect I am related to a quarter of Society, ma’am,” Penelope replied by way of reply as she curtsied in a graceful manner, one to make Miss Nilsson proud.
Behind her, Miss Nilsson drifted along in her quietly regal custom, nodding as befitted a companion of some small distinction. After all, she was a relative—albeit a rather distant one—of the King of Sweden. It had quite suited her to leave the cold Swedish winters for the milder English climate and more agreeable surroundings. For Fountains had been a marvelous place to reside, with duties that were light and pleasurable. Standing mother to an heiress who was also a delightful girl was not an odious task in the least.
Letty nudged Penelope along to the far side of the room, away from where a cluster of very pretty girls stood gossiping and laughing. Their chaperons and mothers gathered on dainty gilt chairs to exchange the latest news, which was likely very little, seeing as how they met nearly every day at the various entertainments.
“For whom are you searching?” Penelope inquired in an undertone, wishing that she had taken the effort to seek out a fashionable mantua-maker who had more skill at translating the designs in La Belle Assemblée. Her rural mantua-maker had tried, but had clearly not quite managed the task.
“No one,” Letty replied as her gaze scanned the throng of people.
“I see,” Penelope replied, greatly puzzled and wondering if her cousin had forgotten where they were. “By the bye, I’d as soon that you did not mention my financial status to anyone here, at least for the moment. I wish to do a bit of looking about for myself at first.”
Letty pushed her spectacles up on her nose as she turned to survey her cousin. “I thought your entire reason for being here was to find a husband as quickly as possible. You do understand that if one of Aunt Winthrop’s friends
