Читать книгу The Historical Collection - Stephanie Laurens - Страница 37

“MRS. ROBBINS! MRS. ROBBINS!”

Delilah—the bird who couldn’t learn “I love you” after a thousand repetitions of the phrase—had learned to mimic this instead. The parrot had the poor housekeeper running all over the house.

Penny rose from the bed where she’d been moping all afternoon and dragged herself down the stairs before Mrs. Robbins could take the trouble to climb them.

When she arrived downstairs, however, she found the drawing room stacked with boxes. Small boxes, large boxes, hatboxes. In the middle of them all stood Emma.

“Surprise!” Emma spread her arms, gesturing toward the boxes with a tacit voilà. “Your wardrobe has arrived. I told you it would be finished in time. A full complement of frocks and underthings for daily wear, two evening gowns suitable for the opera or the theater, gloves and heeled slippers to match—and of course, your gown for the ball. I can’t wait to show you everything.”

“Don’t bother.” Penny removed a stack of boxes from a chair and numbly sat down.

“What?”

“Leave them boxed. It will save me the trouble of repacking them when I leave.”

“Oh, no. Did your aunt refuse to help you?”

Penny shook your head.

“Your brother, then. He won’t change his mind?”

“It’s not my family. It’s …” Tears pressed to her eyes. “Emma, I feel like such a fool.”

Penny broke down and told her friend everything. Everything. From Cumberland and secret dancing lessons, all the way up through the contracts and heartbreak. She condensed a great many of the details by necessity, but she held nothing back.

By the end, the two of them were side by side on the divan, each of them dabbing their eyes with handkerchiefs. Even Delilah gave a mournful whistle. Mrs. Robbins brought a pot of comforting tea.

Emma embraced her. “Penny, dear. I am so sorry.”

“I don’t know what to do. You all attempted to warn me, and I thought I knew better. I believed he was good inside, at his core. I thought that he would set aside these ruthless vendettas once he came to believe that, too. My judgment failed me.” She sniffed. “I ought to have known it when he insulted my sandwiches.”

“You weren’t a fool,” Emma said. “You trusted your heart. And to be honest, I’m not convinced your heart was wrong.”

“Were you listening to anything I said?”

“I know. What he did was horrible. I’m not excusing him for it. But men do nonsensical things when they’re in love, and they become perfectly idiotic when they’re afraid of losing it. Don’t be too hard on yourself. The good qualities you saw in him do exist, even if he’s allowed them to be vanquished by fear or anger. No one is entirely good or entirely bad.” Emma took her by the hand. “You look for the best in people. It’s one of the qualities I most admire in you. You’re so brave.”

“I’m not brave.”

“You have more courage than anyone I know. Even having been hurt so deeply, you persist in opening your heart time and time again.”

“To kittens, maybe.”

“To people, too. Me, for one. I’ll never forget how you invited me to tea the very week I married Ash. We’d never even met, and no other lady of the ton would have acknowledged my existence. A seamstress turned duchess? Somehow you understood how desperately I would need a friend.”

Penny smiled at her friend. “Inviting you to tea was one of the wisest things I’ve ever done. Not the bravest.”

“It was sheer courage. I could have been a murderer.” Emma sipped her tea. “And it wasn’t only me. Nicola, Alexandra, Ash, Chase … You’re the paste that binds us all together. Reaching out takes courage, and holding on takes even more.”

Penny cradled Freya in her hands, stroking her quills along the grain. The hedgehog rolled over and uncurled, exposing her white, fluffy belly for a scratch. “I felt safe with him. I told him everything. He told me I was a treasure, one impervious to tarnish. That I could never be ruined. And even if I knew that for myself in my mind, for the first time I felt safe to truly believe it in my heart.”

“Penny.”

“He betrayed my trust in him. But what’s so much worse, he betrayed my trust in myself.”

“Then borrow mine. Whatever it is you want to do next, I have absolute faith in you. We’ll all be cheering you on, and we’ll be there if you need us.”

Penny gave Freya’s tuft of fur a thoughtful stroke. What did she want to do next? Her heart and mind were too tattered to contemplate dreams of the future. She only knew what she didn’t want to do. She didn’t want to give up and hide.

Emma had taken the time and effort to produce this new wardrobe heaped in boxes around them. Penny had said good-bye to some of her animals, sending them out to be brave on their own. She owed it to Hubert to try, didn’t she? To her friends, as well.

Mostly, she owed it to herself. Three weeks ago, she’d struck a wager with her aunt, and she’d already come this far. She wanted to win.

Penny gently set Freya in her basket, then surveyed the heaps of boxes surrounding them. “Which one of these has the ball gown?”

Emma jumped to her feet, clapping with excitement. “I was afraid you’d never ask.” She navigated the room and found the largest of the boxes. “I didn’t want to press you, but it would have killed me to leave it unused. Three seamstresses worked for days on the embroidery alone.”

While Penny cleared the tea service, Emma lifted the box onto the tea table. She drummed her fingers on top, increasing the suspense. “Are you ready?”

She swallowed hard. “I think so.”

Emma whisked the top off the box, revealing a cloud of tissue. “Prepare to be dazzled.”