in quite deep// featherington oc

four

There will forever be just two words that come to this author's mind the morning after any good party, "shock" and "delight." Well, dear reader, the scandalous accounts from last night's soiree at Vauxhall are quite shocking and delightful indeed. Emerging, phoenix-like from the ashes of irrelevance, is one Miss Daphne Bridgerton. The illustrious debutante was seen dancing not once, but twice with the season's most eligible and most uncatchable rake, the Duke of Hastings.

Pen watches me as I pin the last of my hair up.

"You danced with Lord Wilds last night," Pen states.

I nod my head. "I did. And I saw that you danced with Colin Bridgerton."

"Colin is a friend," Pen tells me.

"And Wilds is a friend of mine," I tell her.

"Is this not the same gentlemen you called a Rake only days ago?" Pen remarks.

"He is still a Rake," I assure her.

"You seemed rather angry with him the other day," Pen offers.

"We had some things to discuss," I state. Pen looks at me curiously. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with."

I sit with my sisters in the drawing room.

"Of course I don't know. How would I know? Because I can't ask her. Because I don't know how it happened. It's disturbing!" Penelope says.

"What are you girls talking about?" Mama questions.

"Penelope is wondering about Miss Thompson," Prudence states.

"Prudence..." Penelope tries to cut her off.

"What of Miss Thompson?" Mama asks.

"Penelope has inquiries," Prudence tells her.

"If you do not fall silent..." I warn.

"About Miss Thompson's condition," Philippa continues.

"I beg your pardon?" Mama says.

"They know, ma'am," Mrs Varley informs her.

"How did it happen, Mama? Is there to be a baby?" Penelope asks.

"That will be enough." Mama turns to her husband. "My lord, are you hearing this? What are we going to do?"

"There's no need for your hysterics," Mama tells her.

"Why is Miss Thompson to be kept away?" Penelope questions.

"Because her condition is catching," Mama tells us.

Penelope corners me as we leave the drawing room.

"Surely you must know, Patience," Pen states.

"Must know what?" I question.

"How a woman comes to be with child," Pen tells me.

"I do," I confess. "And I will not be telling you."

"Patience..." Pen starts.

"No," I tell her. "Mama would kill me if she ever found out I told you. And it is not my place. You are still young Pen. You will learn everything in time."

"I will go ask Marina," Pen tells me. "She will tell me."

Penelope knocks on the door to Miss Thompson's room before opening it. "We found you a few sweets. We thought you might enjoy them while everyone else attends tonight's ball." She puts the plate down on the table.

"You can come in. I'm sure there's plenty to spare," Miss Thompson says.

I hear footsteps and shove Pen into the room before closing the door after us. I bring the plate of sweets over to Miss Thompson. "I hear they have decided not to send you home to your papa."