Wallflower

"Oh, who do I see?" said Colin when he saw Penelope standing in front of the ballroom door.

"A bland wallflower." She smiling returned, still remembering painfully Eloise words.

"But that's not what I see." He returned with a smile.

"Then look closely!"

Colin straightened up as if she were a dangerous giant moving towards him, even though she had only taken half a step towards him. Penelope knew he just hadn't expected that angry shout, but otherwise dismissed her as harmless and needy.

"What you see here, you don't recognize otherwise." Sarcasm felt good.

"Pen, what..." His wondering expression gave place to real concern.

"Colin, you're looking at your old friend, an old maid."

"Don't be like that!"

"What am I like?"

"Cynical."

"I'm realistic."

"Just because you don't have a suitor now doesn't mean..."

"Yes, it does. Look at me, Colin. A bland wallflower."

"That's not true!"

Now it was Penelope who was stepping back, although Colin hadn't moved at all. He was still standing next to the stairs. His arms were pressed to his sides, his hands clenched into fists. His words were not loud, but they were blurted out so harshly that they almost caused her physical pain. The air wasn't getting into her lungs fast enough, so she gasped a few times. Colin had said it so seriously, so strong. Nevertheless, she did not give in to the illusion of his words.

"I am." She shrugged. "Even if my dowry were three times as much, no self-respecting man would ever court me. Not even in his wildest dreams. None would be so mad."

Recognition flitted across his features. Yes, Colin, do these words remind you of your own? Pen would have liked to add, but she was too busy trying to stay whole. Pain gripped her, as did the memory of his smug pose earlier as he declared forcefully that gentlemen were mad, to even acknowledge Penelope Featherington as a possible object of desire. It was so utterly absurd, so final. The way he said it was almost worse than the words themselves.

"The man who court me would have to be very desperate."

"How can you say such a thing?" he asks quietly. Bewildered, he stared at her.

"It's just the truth."

Penelope shrugged in feigned indifference and pinched her lips together to avoid adding another sarcastic question. Or do you disagree? As he still stood frozen like a statue, neither saying anything nor leaving for good, Pen forced a smile and a softer tone. If he didn't leave, she would. She gestured to the door.

"Go in Colin and dance, I'm a bit tired and would like to retire into my room." After all, she should clean up the mess that Eloise had left behind.

"You can't leave now, we need to talk about it."

She laughed out. "What's there to talk about? I've listed the facts and you, on some brotherly impulse, are trying to comfort me. Thank you, but you don't need to, I'm fine." With more dignity than she felt, she walked towards the stairs. "Now if you'll excuse me..."

Penelope had barely taken two steps into the hallway she quickened her pace. She heard his footsteps, all of a sudden felt the sensation of his hand on her arm, strangely saw a blur of colours and stopped to his angry face close to hers. Far too close.