Lady and Lord Whisledown

Chapter Six: Vauxhall

Vauxhall was the destination for tonight's ball. Penelope had always loved it there. Although this time would be different. It had to be. She refused to be the one in the corner. She wanted to dance, she liked to dance, and she rather thought she was good at it.

She did have to admit though, dancing and being around people was making it near impossible to keep up her Whistledown empire. She reminded herself that she had a business to run. The new attention was nice, but her family needed the money now more than ever.

She had already danced thrice tonight, one with a gentleman that could not keep his eyes from her chest area, one who could not remember her name and the other one smelt of mouldy cheese.

Did it have to be this hard? She decided to sit the next few out, hiding herself at the permitter. A place she knew all too well.

"Can you believe it? The 'Heir' is the butler's son?"

"I heard he was senile"

"Well yes he was all but ninety"

Penelope laughed. Many of the town hated Whistledown, she knew it was out of jealousy for the most part. But she was not entirely mean, only to those who deserved it. It did not matter for whom she was talking about, good or bad, everybody paid, nobody could get enough. Especially since she cut the column back to once a week and doubled the price.

She did that, a girl, made an empire all on her own. She had a fortune, made all on her own. She, Penelope Featherington, the overlooked girl was secretly the ton's best friend and worst nightmare all in one. She felt odd satisfaction.

"What are you laughing at?" Penelope once again looked down. She knew the voice all to well; she's dreamt about it countless times. It still gave her butterflies and a feeling not well described. She could not look at him.

"Thought of something funny"

"Look at me" she would not.

"Penelope, look at me" she looked up and at him technically, more past him if she were honest. She loved his eyes, his smile, his hair, his dimple. She could not look at him.

"Penelope Feathering look at me right now" her glance shifted towards him. He was so handsome.

His look had changed. It was hard to explain, he was him and he was not him. His good looks amplified, his clothes fit him perfectly and his lips...they were-

"Are you checking me out?" he tried to joke.

"No" although the pink blush might've given it away.

"Miss Featherington, I would like to formally ask for your next dance?" This startled Penelope, she had never been formally asked. Sure, they'd danced a few times, as she did with his brothers, but he had never actually asked.

"My dance card is full" She returned, she would, could not dance with him. She couldn't.

"Why aren't you dancing then?" He smiled, and by God it was glorious.

She looked down awkwardly and then handed out her wrist, he used the pen to write his name next to the waltz. Great.

"See you then" and he winked. He actually winked. He was so incredibly vexing, and she loved him, nevertheless.

She hated that she did, but she wasn't an idiot. Of course, she loved Colin Bridgerton. Who didn't?

Forty-five minutes later Penelope tried hiding behind a tall ice sculpture, as if that would help. Colin found her within a minute of looking. He always knew where to find her, it was decidedly irritating.