in quite deep// featherington oc

thirteen

My family is still in mourning for the passing of Papa. Though some people seem to be more bothered by it than saddened. I sit in the drawing room with my sisters and Mama. My sisters were supposed to be presented to the Queen today with every other eligible young miss.

"Could we not have appealed to the queen, Mama?" Prudence questions. "After having mourned dear Papa for so very long, perhaps Her Majesty might extend a kindness and allow us to be presented again."

"I see no need to go through all of that again when I myself am already betrothed to Mr. Finch," Philippa states.

"Mr. Finch may very well still change his mind," Prudence argues.

"Particularly when he notices there is still no dowry," Mrs Varley whispers.

"Hush!" Mama tells her. "The new Lord Featherington shall see to that, when he finally decides to show his miserly face."

"Will Lord Wilds be calling on you today?" Pen asks me.

Bash has been there for me since the death of my father. My family spent our time in mourning in London, not in the country. His father and stepmama have been nothing but kind to me. His sisters have brought me flowers every week. They insist it will light up my room. Bash's whole family was thrilled when we announced our engagement.

"I should think so," I tell Pen.

"Penelope? How many times must I warn you to be wary of that window?" Mama tells her. "Do you wish to appear like a befreckled beggar spending all day in the sun?"

"Of course not, Mama," Pen tells her. "My apologies."

"You are not even that close to the window," I whisper. "It is not as if you are hanging outside from it."

Dearest gentle reader. Did you miss me? As the members of our esteemed ton lazily sojourned in their rustic retreats, this author was doing but one thing. Honing my skills. Or should I say, hatching my plans? L No, even better. I was sharpening my knives for all of you.

Questions abound as to this author's identity and means. Seeking those answers shall prove fruitless, indeed. There is, of course, another unknown identity at present. Though, this one you will be able to unearth. I speak of the season's diamond, wherever she may be. Your move, Your Majesty.

A new copy of Lady Whistledown has just been delivered.

"I am off to the market with my maid, Mama," Pen states. "I have just a tiny bit of pin money left, and I..."

Mama waves her off before she finishes the sentence. As Pen walks out of the drawing room Bash walks in.

"Good afternoon," Bash greets.

Mama smiles widely. "Lord Wilds. It is so nice to see you in our drawing room once more."

I shake my head slightly.

Bash smiles. "It would seem I cannot stay away from your daughter for long."

I smile as Bash sits beside me on the sofa. "How was Maria's debut this morning?"

"It was ruined by Lady Whistledown," Bash tells me.

"I do not know what that means," I tell him.

"The newest Whistledown was delivered in the middle of the presentations," Bash explains. "Her Majesty did not care to see much else after."

"Maria must be devastated," I state.

"I think she was relieved. She has been putting so much stress on herself to be perfect." Bash laughs. "I know she would rather be dancing at a ball than being shown off to the Queen."