Quinn, Julia - Romancing Mister Bridgerton With 2nd Epilogue

Kate nudged Penelope with her elbow. “Bought any diamond parures lately, eh? I could use a thousand pounds.”

Penelope let her eyes roll up for a second before replying, because as the current Viscountess Bridgerton, Kate most certainly did not need a thousand pounds. “I can assure you,” she said, “I don’t own a single diamond. Not even a ring.”

Kate let out an “euf” of mock disgruntlement. “Well, you’re no help, then.”

“It’s not so much the money,” Hyacinth announced. “It’s the glory.”

Lady Bridgerton coughed on her tea. “I’m sorry, Hyacinth,” she said, “but what did you just say?”

“Think of the accolades one would receive for having finally caught Lady Whistledown,” Hyacinth said. “It would be glorious.”

“Are you saying,” Colin asked, a deceptively bland expression on his face, “that you don’t care about the money?”

“I would never say that ,” Hyacinth said with a cheeky grin. It occurred to Penelope that of all the Bridgertons, Hyacinth and Colin were the most alike. It was probably a good thing Colin was so often out of the country. If he and Hyacinth ever joined forces in earnest, they could probably take over the world.

“Hyacinth,” Lady Bridgerton said firmly, “you are not to make the search for Lady Whistledown your life’s work.”

“But—”

“I’m not saying you cannot ponder the problem and ask a few questions,” Lady Bridgerton hastened to add, holding up one hand to ward off further interruptions. “Good gracious, I would hope that after nearly forty years of motherhood I would know better than to try to stop you when you have your mind quite so set on something, nonsense as it may be.”

Penelope brought her teacup to her mouth to cover her smile.

“It’s just that you have been known to be rather”—Lady Bridgerton delicately cleared her throat—“single-minded at times . . .”

“Mother!”

Lady Bridgerton continued as if Hyacinth had never spoken. “. . . and I do not want you to forget that your primary focus at this time must be to look for a husband.”

Hyacinth uttered the word “Mother” again, but this time it was more of a groan than a protest.

Penelope stole a glance at Eloise, who had her eyes fixed on the ceiling and was clearly trying not to break out in a grin. Eloise had endured years of relentless matchmaking at her mother’s hands and did not mind in the least that she seemed to have given up and moved on to Hyacinth.

In truth, Penelope was surprised that Lady Bridgerton seemed to have finally accepted Eloise’s unmarried state. She had never hidden the fact that her greatest aim in life was to see all eight of her children happily married. And she’d succeeded with four. First Daphne had married Simon and become the Duchess of Hastings. The following year Anthony had married Kate. There had been a bit of a lull after that, but both Benedict and Francesca had married within a year of each other, Benedict to Sophie, and Francesca to the Scottish Earl of Kilmartin.

Francesca, unfortunately, had been widowed only two years after her marriage. She now divided her time between her late husband’s family in Scotland and her own in London. When in town, however, she insisted upon living at Kilmartin House instead of at Bridgerton House or Number Five. Penelope didn’t blame her. If she were a widow, she’d want to enjoy all of her independence, too.

Hyacinth generally bore her mother’s matchmaking with good humor since, as she had told Penelope, it wasn’t as if she didn’t want to get married eventually. Might as well let her mother do all the work and then she could choose a husband when the right one presented himself.

And it was with this good humor that she stood, kissed her mother on the cheek, and dutifully promised that her main focus in life was to look for a husband—all the while directing a cheeky, sneaky smile at her brother and sister. She was barely back in her seat when she said to the crowd at large, “So, do you think she’ll be caught?”

“Are we still discussing that Whistledown woman?” Lady Bridgerton groaned.

“Have you not heard Eloise’s theory, then?” Penelope asked.

All eyes turned to Penelope, then to Eloise.

“Er, what is my theory?” Eloise asked.

“It was just, oh, I don’t know, maybe a week ago,” Penelope said. “We were talking about Lady Whistledown, and I said that I didn’t see how she could possibly go on forever, that eventually she would have to make a mistake. Then Eloise said she wasn’t so sure, that it had been over ten years and if she were going to make a mistake, wouldn’t she have already done so? Then I said, no, she was only human. Eventually she would have to slip up, because no one could go on forever, and—”

“Oh, I remember now!” Eloise cut in. “We were at your house, in your room. I had the most brilliant idea! I said to Penelope that I would wager that Lady Whistledown has already made a mistake, and it’s just we were too stupid to have noticed it.”

“Not very complimentary for us, I must say,” Colin murmured.

“Well, I did intend we to mean all of society, not just us Bridgertons,” Eloise demurred.

“So maybe,” Hyacinth mused, “all I need to do to catch Lady Whistledown is peruse back issues of her column.”

Lady Bridgerton’s eyes filled with a mild panic. “Hyacinth Bridgerton, I don’t like the look on your face.”

Hyacinth smiled and shrugged. “I could have a great deal of fun with one thousand pounds.”

“God help us all,” was her mother’s reply.

“Penelope,” Colin said quite suddenly, “you never did finish telling us about Felicity. Is it true that she is to be engaged?”

Penelope gulped down the tea she’d been in the process of sipping. Colin had a way of looking at a person, his green eyes so focused and intent that you felt as if you must be the only two people in the universe. Unfortunately for Penelope, it also seemed to have a way of reducing her to a stammering imbecile. If they were in the midst of conversation, she could generally hold her own, but when he surprised her like that, turning his attention onto her just when she’d convinced herself she blended in perfectly with the wallpaper, she was completely and utterly lost.

“Er, yes, it is quite possible,” she said. “Mr. Albansdale has been hinting at his intentions. But if he does decide to propose, I imagine he will travel to East Anglia to ask my uncle for her hand.”

“Your uncle?” Kate asked.

“My uncle Geoffrey. He lives near Norwich. He’s our closest male relative, although truth be told, we don’t see him very often. But Mr. Albansdale is rather traditional. I don’t think he would feel comfortable asking my mother.”

“I hope he asks Felicity as well,” Eloise said. “I’ve often thought it foolish that a man asks a woman’s father for her hand before he asks her. The father doesn’t have to live with him.”

“This attitude,” Colin said with an amused smile that was only partly hidden by his teacup, “may explain why you are as yet unmarried.”

Lady Bridgerton gave her son a stern glare and said his name disapprovingly.

“Oh, no, Mother,” Eloise said, “I don’t mind. I’m perfectly comfortable as an old maid.” She gave Colin a rather superior look. “I’d much rather be a spinster than be married to a bore. As,” she added with a flourish, “would Penelope!”

Startled by Eloise’s hand waving rather suddenly in her direction, Penelope straightened her spine and said, “Er, yes. Of course.”

But Penelope had a feeling she wasn’t quite as firm in her convictions as her friend. Unlike Eloise, she hadn’t refused six offers of marriage. She hadn’t refused any; she hadn’t received even a one.