Dearest Gentle Reader, we have been apart for far too long. At last, London's fashionable set has made its return. And so too has this author.
As the season begins, the question on everyone's mind is, of course, which newly minted debutante will shine the brightest? The crop this year appears to be rather dazzling. There is the exquisite Miss Malhotra, said to be quite a catch. Miss Stowell is thought to be a most accomplished young lady. The mild-mannered Miss Hartigan will certainly appeal to genteel suitors. Miss Kenworthy is a welcome entry, brimming with confidence and charisma. And then there is Miss Barragan, who certainly stands out in a crowd. And let us not forget, should we all need a little excitement, there is another Bridgerton making her debut this year.
Debutantes aside, there is also the question of which gentleman will reveal himself as the prize of the season. For our young ladies will certainly need someone dashing at whom to set their caps. Whoever it is that makes the finest match this year, let us hope that their pairing brings some titillation. For, of the status quo, this author quickly grows weary.
My family has just arrived back in town for the season. I do not waste a moment before calling on Pen. I may not have seen Pen since leaving for my family's country home but we have written. I have forgiven Pen for keeping the largest secret possible from me. I have come to understand that she was in over her head and saw no way out.
I smile in the doorway to the Featherington drawing room. Pen jumps up from her chair when she spots me. I cannot get a word in before she grabs my hand and all but drags me to her room.
"You are here," Pen shouts as she closes the door behind us.
I laugh. "We arrived this morning."
"I am happy you are back," Pen tells me.
I nod my head. "I can see that with your return a certain scandal sheet author has also returned."
"I know you are angry," Pen starts.
I shake my head. "I am not, Pen. I knew you would not stop. I have no right to ask you to nor expect you to. You are forging your own path and I will not stand in the way."
"Thank you, Ruth," Pen tells me.
"Though you could have mentioned my name in your latest issue," I remark.
Pen laughs. "I did not think you would desire me to do so."
"I need to make my own confession," I state.
Pen looks at me curiously. "What is it?"
"I think I am in love with Colin," I confess. "Well actually I know I am. And I believe him to be in love with me. I know how you feel about him, Pen but I could not stop it. It just happened. Please do not hate me. Or decide to stop being my friend."
"It is okay, Ruth," Pen tells me. "I know it is easy to fall in love with Colin Bridgerton."
"I have kissed Colin," I blurt out.
"You have?" Pen questions.
I nod my head. "More than once."
"And he has not asked for your hand in marriage?" Pen questions.
I shake my head. "We... it is... I do not..."
Pen laughs. "I did not mean to break you."
"We have not said as much but I do believe that Colin has intentions to go about things the right way," I offer.
"Then I am happy for you," Pen tells me. "Both of you."
Presentations to Her Majesty are this morning. I have decided to visit with Pen. Prudence married before the start of this season and I can only imagine how hostile her family's drawing room is now.
I spot her walking towards me.
"Are you off somewhere, Pen?" I question.
"I was coming to see you," Pen tells me.
