Chapter 3 - Adventure in art

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THE FEATHERINGTON HOME

"Good day, Penelope" Benedict entered the drawing room. Mrs Varley was fast with asking if her company required refreshment. Penelope only seemed to have visits from the very handsome Benedict Bridgerton. Even though there may not be a romantic spark, she was happy the young miss had a friend.

"Good day,  Benedict" He nodded at Mrs Varley and turned his attention back to Miss Featherington. Ignoring the fact that Lady Featheringtons eye's were, as always, like a hawk ready to claw her prey.

"What are your plans?" Pen couldn't hold her excitement, she knew that Ben being here early in the morning must mean there was something enjoyable he wished to share with her. She loved hearing of his interests. Especially when her only entertainment included listening to her family moan about something or the other. She felt blessed that Mr Finch and Mr Dankworth joined their herd. They were way more fun. If she was being honest, much more caring also.

"My plans, so far only involve you"

"Me?"

"What do you plan to do with me?"

It was an innocent question, but as usual Ben's mind went otherwise. He cleared his throat. Feeling Portia's eyes on him, judging him from her seat. He cleared his throat once more.

"I, Miss Penelope, am taking you to an art gallery"

"Really" she showed an enthusiastic grin "That would be lovely"

"Be warned though" his voice lowered so they would not be overheard "It is not where a lady would usually be found"

"I'm even more intrigued" she put her arm through his.

He tightened his arm on hers "Im glad"

"Will I see your paintings, Benedict?"

"Perhaps" He nodded, clearly unsure.

"I believe you mean yes, Penelope, you will!"

His tone secretive "Forgive me, Yes Penelope, you will"

She couldn't keep the smile off of her face.

_____

Penelope paid for Rae's silence. She loved a good mystery, and she did not want Rae getting in trouble. So she gave her a day off of sorts. Her mother would be none the wiser. It's not like her mother knew of her disappearances in the past, so why would she take note of them now.

_____

Benedicts carriage dropped them off in a part of town Pen did not recognise. He pulled a cloak from a bag "I brought you this, like a disguise, of sorts"

"I'm having fun already"

"Come on!"

He reached for her hand. The blue cloak covered most of her dress. She put her hood up.

They stepped into what looked like a large house.

The smell of paint, charcoal and fragrance lingered in the air with the smoke from mens cigars. Pen was taking it all in with her bright blue eyes wide. Anyone would think she had just stepped into a book.

Benedict regarded her, she was fascinated. Like someone who had heard music for the first time, who had put her toes through grass. Ben couldn't help but be proud of himself for giving this to her. This freedom.

They walked upstairs. A large room to the left was a studio, a beautiful lady stood unclothed motionless and in a position. While one artist stood, charcoal in hand. Benedict took her to the gentleman.

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