It Is Me

Chapter 6: One In The Same

As one might suspect, Penelope hadn't changed her wallflower ways. She probably shouldn't have been standing against the wall by herself and sipping lemonade from a tall, slender glass (as hardly any of the other unwed ladies of a similar age were doing so), though her mother hadn't scolded her for this sort of thing in a while. That meant that there was little point in pretending as though she was making an effort to find a husband. Penelope suspected that approaching the various eligible gentlemen at the ball would earn her a visit from the doctor. After all, one couldn't change so suddenly without some kind of illness, or ambiguously labelled madness, being blamed.

It wouldn't be a stretch to assume that Penelope preferred her own company over that of most others, nor would it be a particularly inaccurate assumption. That being said, standing there by herself allowed (or forced) Penelope to think to herself. It wasn't as though she had anything else with which to entertain herself. Though, she doubted most of the gentlemen here could provide her with stimulating conversation.

She glanced over at Eloise, who found herself stiffly dancing with some young Lord. He stumbled quite a bit (Penelope figured that he must have been distracted by Eloise's sheepish, forced smile and scrunched-up nose). Anthony and Kate stood on the perimeter of the dancefloor, arms linked as they muttered to one another without taking their eyes off the second eldest Bridgerton daughter. Her eyes wandered to Eloise again, but Eloise didn't look back at her. No glance, no pleading stare. She felt a strange ache in her stomach. It wasn't a new feeling; it seemed to have taken residence within her shortly after her falling out with Eloise.

The dancing couples glided in circles, moving in a way that appeared effortless. Despite what her introverted nature might have one believe, Penelope actually quite liked dancing. Alas, there was usually only one man who would ask her to dance, and he happened to be the man she least wanted to speak to, let alone dance with, at that moment. She looked around the room at the beaming ladies dancing with the smirking men who could very well be their husbands someday. They were the sorts of girls that Colin must have thought he ought to be courting. No one would laugh at him if he were courting any of them.

The ladies and gentlemen were cavorting jovially, and Penelope was all alone, very few allies and even fewer friends. The music was upbeat and lively, but Penelope had never felt so utterly demoralised, so completely drained.

Eloise wanted nothing to do with her, and Penelope wanted nothing to do with Colin. It was something- no matter how crushing it was- that she had to accept. As much as she missed companionship, it was a fact that she could manage on her own; she had proven as much to herself through Lady Whistledown. It was the secret identity she had maintained on her own. It was an extraordinary thing she had done on her own. It was the very thing that destroyed her friendship with Eloise, but it was her greatest strength- the greatest source of power for an otherwise powerless girl. She had done what she needed to spare Eloise from the wrath of the Queen.

Penelope and Lady Whistledown appeared to be the antithesis of one another: an insipid wallflower and the only figure that challenged Lady Danbury for the honour of possessing the sharpest tongue in all of the ton. And, yet, Penelope and Lady Whistledown were one in the same. They had to be, on some level, as Penelope was Lady Whistledown, and Lady Whistledown was Penelope. She was a wallflower who gathered every obtainable morsel of gossip. She was Penelope's sharp wit incarnate, passing judgement on the people of the ton who judged the Featherington girl...and those who didn't. She was revered and feared by the ton all at once.

Surely, no one would cackle at Lady Whistledown, or the idea of someone courting her. Surely, Lady Whistledown would carry herself in such a way that would demand respect. Surely, no one would expect Lady Whistledown to be merciful when she had been betrayed.