Flawless My Dear ( English version )

Chapter 7

The rest of the day was boring for Penelope. Portia wouldn't let her leave her room just to get some air, and she wasn't really feeling well... A panic attack? She couldn't understand how she had come to suffer from that. Penelope had to relax or the rest of the season would cost her her health.

Meeting Colin on Lord Fife's arm had actually been exciting, it had hit Colin where it would hurt the most. But of course, it had had such side-effects that Colin had ended up in her sitting room. Then Penelope remembered; she had a letter from him waiting to be read.

Curiosity got the better of Penelope and by the time she realised she had a letter opener in her hand. She took a deep breath before she began to read, he could have written anything. But her insides shook as she read that he had been about to return to London for her, just to make sure she was alright. 'Your smile had eclipsed all the others' 'I can feel the hurt I've done to you on your face and I couldn't feel more guilty about it' These were two sentences that made Penelope's insides churn all over.

'I just don't want you away from me' she ran her hand over her face as tears came to her eyes. He didn't want her away from him but Colin was doing everything he could to push her away.

Penelope opened her bedroom window to let in some fresh air and looked up at the sky. It was as blue as Colin's gaze, which had been just inches away from hers today. She brought her hand to the exact spot on her neck where she had placed hers and it was as if she could feel Colin's hand on hers. She had had Colin's face just inches away and she should be happy, but she couldn't be because she knew that look would never belong to him.

She wanted to answer him, she didn't know how, but she wanted to. Maybe in person Penelope wouldn't be able to say certain things yet, but on paper of course she could. But she had to do it in such a way that no one would know.

(...)

Colin paced up and down the house wondering how Penelope was doing, and more to the point, had she read his letter? It was a mystery he would never know. He went to Benedict's room and as usual, he was painting.

"What are you painting?" he asked.

"If I'm honest, I don't know. I picked up the palette and started to make strokes...Colin why?" asked Benedict.

"What do you mean, why?" he said.

"Why did you have to say those things about Penelope?" he said to his brother as he looked away from the canvas. "You may not have ever courted her, but from there to saying that? I don't understand," Benedict finally said.

"You don't have to understand anything. It's none of your business," Colin reproached him.

"I'm sorry, but it is," he said, dropping his brushes. "Penelope is my friend too. "She's wonderful, talented, beautiful, with an undeniable sense of humour, clever and with an unimaginable capacity for forgiveness. She didn't deserve your words, not even in your thoughts."

"I had one drink too many, let's not crucify me for that either." Colin felt a small twinge in his stomach at hearing his brother talk about Penelope like that.

"And if you believe that, why is it that every time you see her, you're just going to try to make up for the mistake you made? Because it was a cadastral error." That's what Colin would like to know. "There are times when you have to let your soul speak, so you can paint something you didn't know was there but you were looking for," he replied, looking at his canvas. "Brother, can I ask you a question?" Colin nodded. "Have you ever let your soul speak, have you ever listened to your inner self?"