Colin tried to put himself in her shoes. It wasn't easy. He'd always been popular; his friends had looked up to him at school and the women had flocked to his side when he'd entered society. And as much as he could say he didn't care what people thought, when it came right down to it...
He rather liked being liked.
Suddenly he didn't know what to say. Which was strange, because he always knew what to say. In fact, he was somewhat famous for always knowing what to say. It was, he reflected, probably one of the reasons he was so well liked.
But he sensed that Penelope's feelings depended on his next words, and at some point in the last ten minutes, her feelings had become very important to him.wYou're right," he finally said, deciding that it was always a good idea to tell someone she was correct.wIt was very insensitive of me. Perhapswe should start anew?"
She blinked. "I beg yourpardon?"
He waved his hand about, as if the motion could explain everything."Make a fresh start."
She looked quite adorably confused, which confused him, since he'd never thoughtPenelope the least bit adorable.wBut we've known each other for twelve years," she said.wHas it really been that long?" He searched his brain, but for the life of him, he couldn't recall the event of their first meeting. "Never mind that. I meant just for this afternoon, you ninny."
She smiled, clearly in spite of herself, and he knew that calling her a ninny had been the exact right thing to do, although in all truth he had no idea why.wHere we go," he said slowly, drawing his words out with a long flourish of his arm. "You are walking across Berkeley Square, and you spy me in the distance. I call out your name, and you reply by saying ..."
Penelope caught her lower lip between her teeth, trying, for some unknown reason, to contain her smile.
What magical star had Colin been born under, that he always knew what to say? He was the pied piper, leaving nothing but happy hearts and smiling faces in his wake. Penelope would have bet money—far more than the thousand pounds Lady Dan-bury had offered up—that she was not the only woman in London desperately in love with the third Bridgerton.
He dipped his head to the side and then righted it in a prompting sort of motion.wI would reply..." Penelope said slowly."I would reply.. ."
Colin waited two seconds, then said, "Really, any words will do."
Penelope had planned to fix a bright grin on her face, but she discovered that the smile on her lips was quite genuine. "Colin!" she said, trying to sound as if she'd just been surprised by his arrival. "What are you doing about?"wExcellent reply," he said.
She shook her finger at him. "You're breaking outof character."wYes, yes, of course. Apologies." He paused, blinked twice, then said, "Here we are. How about this:
Much the same as you, I imagine. Heading to Number Five for tea."
Penelope found herself falling into the rhythm of the conversation. "You sound as if you're just going for a visit. Don'tyou live there?"
He grimaced. "Hopefully just for the next week. A fortnight at most. I'm trying to find a new place to live. I had to give up the lease on my old set of rooms when I left for Cyprus, and I haven't found a suitable replacement yet. I had a bit of business down on Piccadilly and thought I'dwalk back."wIn the rain?"
He shrugged. "It wasn't raining when I left earlier this morning. And even now it's just drizzle."
Just drizzle, Penelope thought. Drizzle that clung to his obscenely long eyelashes, framing eyes of such perfect green that more than one young lady had been moved to write (extremely bad) poetry about them. Even Penelope, levelheaded as she liked to think herself, had spent many a night in bed, staring at the ceiling and seeing nothing but those eyes.
Just drizzle, indeed.wPenelope?"
She snapped to attention. "Right. Yes. I'm going to your mother's for tea as well. I do so every Monday.
And often on other days, too," she admitted. "When there's, er, nothing interesting occurringat my house."wNo need to sound so guilty about it. My mother's a lovely woman. If she wants you over for tea,you should go."
Penelope had a bad habit of trying to hear between the lines of people's conversations, and she had a suspicion that Colin was really saying that he didn't blame her if she wanted to escape her own mother from time to time.
Which somehow, unaccountably, made her feel a little sad.
He rocked on his heels for a moment, then said, "Well, I shouldn't keep you out here in the rain."
She smiled, since they'd been standing outside for at least fifteen minutes. Still, if he wanted to continue with the ruse, she would do so as well. "I'm the one with the parasol," she pointed out.
His lips curved slightly. "So you are. But still, I wouldn't be much of a gentleman if I didn't steer you toward a more hospitable environment. Speaking of which..." He frowned, looking around.wSpeaking of what?"wOf being a gentleman. I believe we're supposed to see to the welfare of ladies."wAnd?"
He crossed his arms. "Shouldn't you have a maid with you?"wI live just around the corner," she said, a little bit deflated that he didn't remember that. She and her sister were best friends with two of his sisters, after all. He'd even walked her home once or twice. "On Mount Street," she added, when his frown did not dissipate.
He squinted slightly, looking in the direction of Mount Street, although she had no idea what he hoped to accomplish by doing so.wOh, for heaven's sake, Colin. It's just near the corner of Davies Street. It can't be more than a five-minute walk to your mother's. Four, if I'm feeling exceptionally sprightly."wI was just looking to see if there were any darkened or recessed spots." He turned back to face her.wWhere a criminal might lurk."wIn Mayfair?"wIn Mayfair," he said grimly. "I really think you ought to have a maid accompany you when you journey to and fro. I should hate for something to happen to you."