Heart at risk

17. Do something babe

Penelope cut her off, her voice gaining strength as she met Cressida's gaze with defiant resolve. 'My child is not illegitimate,' she said firmly. 'I am married to the father, and we have every intention of raising this baby together.'

Cressida's eyes flashed with a mix of curiosity and malicious delight. 'Oh, but you agree that you are Lady Whistledown,' she said with a sly smile. 'How scandalous!'

Penelope's heart sank at Cressida's audacious claim, but she forced herself to stay composed. 'You are mistaken,' she said, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside. 'I am not Lady Whistledown. This is just another one of your wild accusations.'

Cressida's gaze remained unrelenting, her smile widening. 'Is it? How convenient that you'd deny it so readily. But perhaps you should be worried about other matters as well. Your printer, for instance—he's been quite talkative.'

Penelope's eyes widened in alarm. 'What do you mean?'

Cressida leaned in closer, her voice dripping with malicious glee. 'He mentioned his mistress, a redhead, small, with a peculiar yellowish complexion. Does that sound familiar to you?'

Penelope felt her breath catch in her throat as Cressida's words sank in. The room seemed to close in around her, the once distant chatter and laughter now a dull roar in her ears. 'You are lying,' Penelope said, her voice trembling despite her efforts to remain composed. 'You do not know anything.'

Cressida let out a low, mocking laugh that sent shivers down Penelope's spine. She leaned in even closer, her breath hot against Penelope's ear as she whispered, 'Oh, but I do. And if they find out, Penelope, they will take your child away, no doubt. A scandal like this? It's too much for even the Bridgertons to protect you from.'

Penelope's heart raced, her pulse pounding in her ears. She could barely breathe as the implications of Cressida's words hit her like a wave. 'Perhaps,' Cressida continued, her voice silky smooth, 'they might even behead you Penelope.'

Penelope felt a cold sweat break out across her skin. Cressida's words were like daggers, each one piercing deeper than the last. The threat was real, and it was terrifying. The image of her child being taken from her, of facing the gallows or worse, was too much to bear. Panic clawed at her chest, making it hard to think, hard to breathe.

Penelope's vision blurred, the edges of the room seeming to close in as Cressida's words reverberated in her mind. Every instinct screamed at her to run, to escape the crushing weight of the threat hanging over her, but her legs felt rooted to the spot.

Her eyes darted around the room, searching for Colin, for anyone who might save her from this nightmare. But all she saw were faces that would soon turn against her if Cressida's accusations ever reached their ears. She imagined the whispers, the pointed fingers, the horror of being dragged before the authorities, her secret exposed for all to see.

'Please,' she whispered, her voice cracking as she desperately tried to regain control. 'Please, Cressida... you cannot do this.' But the words felt weak, empty, powerless against the storm that Cressida threatened to unleash.

Cressida's eyes glinted with cold satisfaction as she watched Penelope's face crumble. Her smile widened, the expression of a predator closing in on its prey.

'Oh, Penelope,' Cressida said, her voice dripping with condescension. 'You have just confessed. I did not even know for certain before. But now? Now I have everything I need.' Her tone was almost playful, as if she were discussing the weather rather than someone's imminent ruin.

Penelope's breath came in shallow, ragged gasps. Her chest felt tight, her vision wavering as her panic mounted. Cressida's lips curled into a cruel smile as she took a step closer to Penelope, her eyes flashing with malevolent pleasure. 'I wonder what everyone will say,' she mused aloud, her tone dripping with mock sympathy. 'It is always so fascinating to watch a scandal unfold. I do hope you are prepared for the consequences.'