“No,” a startled Penelope replied in a faint voice. “I had not considered that possibility.”
“Besides, a number of the tabbies are bound to remember your parents and the wealth they left.” Just then a gangly ginger-haired young man, perhaps a year or two older than Letty, came strolling across the polished wood floor to where the two young women stood. Letty ignored him.
“I say, Letty, I had no idea you meant to attend this do. Glad to see you here. Ought to get out more often. Better than secluding yourself in that moldy old room.”
“I write there, Mr. Oglethorpe,” Letty replied in freezing accents.
He, in turn, ignored her outburst and bowed to Penelope. “May I present myself, since Letty is in a miff? Andrew Oglethorpe, at your service, ma’am.”
Letty gave an outraged sniff, then said in a strained voice, “My cousin, Lady Penelope Winthrop. She is immune to you, Andrew. I doubt a poet is to her liking in the least. Especially one who hasn’t the taste he was born with. She has come to Town for a nice visit.”
“Shall I compose an ode to the dimples in your cheeks, my dear?” replied the unoffended Mr. Oglethorpe.
Since he was looking at Letty, Penelope prudently sidled up to Miss Nilsson. “What strange people,” Penelope murmured.
“I believe poets tend to be that way,” Nilsson answered in a similar undertone..
“I had hoped my cousin might be of help in my quest. She seems absorbed in another direction, to the exclusion of all else.”
“So it would appear, but whether it is poetry or the poet who most fascinates her is hard to say.”
They exchanged amused glances, then watched as Lady Anne and her father stepped out on the floor to begin the ball.
Lord Stephen Collison was also there, partnering his youngest sister. He was even more handsome than the morning they had met, Penelope decided. Biscuit pantaloons fitted snugly on well-muscled legs, and that corbeau coat over a waistcoat of cream satin was positively elegant. He danced well too. She wondered how prone he was to gambling. A little she could tolerate. Excessive gaming was something else. Unless . . . She might be able to have her trustees stipulate that her money was to remain in their control? It might be possible. Her guardian offered little help far off in Austria.
Once the initial dance concluded, she was surprised to find Lord Stephen coming her way.
“Ah, fair unknown, you came!” He bowed over her hand, then noticed Letty and Andrew Oglethorpe. “Miss Winthrop, Oglethorpe. Nice to see you again.” He glanced pointedly at Penelope.
“Lady Penelope Winthrop, allow me to present Lord Stephen Collison. My cousin is from Kent and has come to enjoy the delights of London for a time.”
Penelope curtsied low to the attractive gentleman. “I am charmed to see you again, sir. Such a gallant rescuer is always a welcome sight.”
Lord Stephen explained the circumstances under which they had met with an amused, offhand manner, then requested Penelope’s hand for the following dance.
Miss Nilsson nodded, then seated herself on one of those dainty gilt chairs which usually range the walls of ballrooms.
“I suppose I cannot have the next waltz. You most likely have not had time to obtain permission to waltz as yet.” Lord Stephen smiled down at her, his blue eyes alight with charm.
“I am distantly related to Mrs. Drummond-Burrell, so perhaps that will not be too difficult.” She looked about the room, searching for a neutral topic. “Your sister looks to be a charming girl. She ought not have the least trouble finding a husband of good standing.”
He gave her a surprised look, then frowned. “That is what these things are all about, aren’t they? Usually everyone pretends otherwise.”
“I am too outspoken.” Penelope blushed a delicate rose. “It is my country manners, sir. I shall have to learn to guard my tongue."
“And I suppose I must share your beauty with every beau and dandy in the room. I can see meaningful looks coming my way with every turn we make.”
“Fie, sir, what flummery,” Penelope chuckled in that endearing way she had, and Lord Stephen appeared enchanted.
His attention was not unnoticed by his mother, who promptly sought out Miss Nilsson. She learned precisely what she desired to know: that the companion was of the highest respectability and that the Winthrop girl apparently had a sizable inheritance. Stories about the earl and his countess returned to her mind. Yes, indeed, there was a fortune there, unless the estate had been mismanaged or the next earl had acquired everything. Somehow, she doubted that, as rumor had it that the previous Earl of Everton had provided well for his only child.
When the country dance drew to an end, Penelope discovered Lord Stephen had been correct. At least to the extent that Mr. Willowby waited to request a proper introduction and the next dance. Again Letty absently did her duty, leaving Penelope to cope as best she might with the impressed Mr. Willowby.
Yet it was not long before Penelope began to detect a subtle alteration in the attentions paid to her. Young men did seek her side, but they seemed not the cream of the group, nor were they the sort she wished to attract. They were apparently all under the hatches, definitely possessing not a feather to fly with, judging from the whispers that reached her ears. It seemed each of them was eager to let her know the poor financial standing of the other hopefuls.
She was about to beg Letty, who did not appear to be enjoying the ball in the least, to depart, when a faint Stir occurred at the entrance to the ballroom. Penelope was standing with Miss Nilsson, merely watching the glittering scene, and wishing she had someone more knowledgeable to assist her, when a man strolled in, bowed to his hostess, making her blush and laugh with his words.
Penelope forgot her manners and
