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Today is the big night, Lady Danbury's long-awaited ball. All the people in the Ton were present, attentive and with high expectations. Some rumors had spread through the town; the return of Francesca Bridgerton along with her naming as diamond of the season. Colin Bridgerton back in London after his travels through Europe, being - surely - the next most desired and envied brother in society.
The wedding of Viscount Anthony and Kate. The new visitors and mysterious presences at the party. There was even some gossip regarding the Duke of Wellington, Nicholas Edevane. The single women were looking forward to seeing him that night, he had become quite a celebrity during the short time he had interacted in the last few weeks.
However, the sought-after man of the moment was nowhere to be found. It was very possible he would not show up today. Which was a disappointment for the ladies, but a relief for the gentlemen.
Penelope, on the other hand, remained in a corner of the celebration, as was typical of the young lady Featherington. With her dark green dress, trimmed in jewel lace. Her long, loose reddish hair wrapped sensually around her shoulders. Not forgeting her angelic face, enhanced with subtle and natural makeup, carefully observing what was happening.
She, for the first time since she knew, felt beautiful.
The bad thing was that, despite the change in clothing, despite her physical transformation, Penelope remained invisible, ignored, without being noticed by anyone. The redhead presented herself with her sweetness and kindness when she approached to start a conversation. But everything that is foreign to her, ended up being more interesting. If it wasn't Francesca, it was Cressida or Eloise. Or some other high society woman.
The redhead was alone, with her dance card empty, while the minutes flew by and along with them, Penelope's hopes. She straightened her dress, overshadowing her tender features with a grimace of disgust and hopelessness.
Her hands clutched each other as her gaze darted ahead in boredom. Her eyes quickly spotted the Bridgerton family. Anthony danced with his wife in the crowd and from time to time, he stole a kiss from his wife.
The redhead could smile with tenderness, but it wasn't very visible, if not reluctant. Since she envied Kate—in the good sense of the word—. The now Viscountess had her history of reciprocated love. And Penelope continued to suffer for a man who didn't look at her beyond brotherly eyes.
Which it wasn't entirely wrong. But still, it hurts somehow.
The young lady Featherington sighed, hanging her head in pity. Inevitably, just as she lifted her chin, her light blue eyes wandered through the crowd, searching for Colin. She missed him, she wasn't going to lie to herself. However, the aforementioned had not made an appearance yet. Penelope didn't know whether to feel relieved or saddened. Oh, how she hated feeling so much and at the same time, wanting to feel nothing.
