"Penelope!" Erin called her daughter's name, before giving a sigh and heading up the stairs to her daughter's room and throwing the door open. "What is taking you so long?"
Penelope lay on her bed, still only in her underthings.
"Why aren't you getting dressed?" Erin said. "Where's your maid?"
"I don't want to go," Penelope began, sitting up, the simple motion turning her from a little girl into a provocative woman. Erin's breath caught for a moment when she looked at her daughter. Had Penelope really grown up this much?
"Whyever not? Emily is one of your best friends," Erin said, going to her daughter's closet and rifling through the dresses there, falling silent when she surveyed them. All of them were old, two seasons at least, and the fashions made it impossible to redo them as fashionable.
"I don't have anything to wear," Penelope admitted, coming up to stand beside her mother, leaning on her shoulder.
Erin's heart ached for her daughter. This wasn't part of the plan. "You can wear one of my dresses," she finally decided.
"I won't fit it," Penelope protested.
"You will," Erin said. "We have, what, three hours?" She glanced at the clock, feeling grim determination setting in. "I still have some talent with a needle. You'll be the best dressed girl there."
Penelope wasn't sure who was standing in front of her, but she wasn't sure it was her mother. Erin Strauss was in a whirl, going to her closet and pulling out one of her old dresses.
"Mama!" Penelope gasped. "That one?"
Erin nodded firmly, holding out a delicate dark blue silk. "I wore this when I expecting you," she said. "Early on. It will fit you, Penelope."
Penelope nodded dumbly, letting Erin help her into the dress.
It did fit; it was loose at the waist.
Penelope looked at herself, letting herself smile at the reflection. She almost looked...beautiful, as Erin cinched the back of the dress, pulling it to tight to show off Penelope's waist.
"Now we can just find a shawl," Erin said matter of factly. "And you'll look sweet and perfect for Lady Emily's last event of the season."
Morgan wasn't really speaking to Reid as they left Reid's townhouse, getting into a hansom cab that would take them to the Hotchner's.
It wasn't really intentional. He just didn't know what to say. Their lives had changed so much...he couldn't find a common ground anymore.
The distance between them hurt and Morgan was looking forward to an evening at the Hotchner's, spending time in a less stressful environment.
He thought of the blonde, of that stolen dance, those precious few moments...
He wondered if he'd even see her again. The chances were fairly high. London's upper society was limited in number and she had to appear somewhere...
He heard Reid, across the carriage, sigh a bit as he looked out the window.
Jennifer paused before the window, and Henry's hand unexpectedly slipped into her own. "Mama!" He said. "Look!"
He pointed out the window, eager and excited. "Horse!" He declared proudly.
"Indeed," Jennifer said. "A lot of horses. Very good, Henry."
She leaned down to pick her son up, feeling a slight twinge in her side, which she tried to ignore.
Henry looked down at her stomach, as if he too were surprised that it was no longer growing bigger.
"Are you going to Lady Emily's tonight?" Her mother asked, hovering in the doorway.
"I wasn't sure," Jennifer said. "Probably. It's her last event of the season so I really should but I don't feel that well."
"You should get out more," her mother said.
"I went to the ball," Jennifer said. "Wasn't that enough?"
Mrs. Jareau sighed. "What about Will? Is he coming to the city soon to join us?"
"I don't think so," Jennifer said, her voice tight with emotion.
"What happened, daughter?" Mrs. Jareau asked, walking forward to lay a hand on Jennifer's shoulder. "What happened the night...you lost your Rosalyn?"
Her hand drifted down to her daughter's stomach. Jennifer had been far enough along that the sex was apparent when she lost her baby, and she had named her after her lost sister.
Now there were two dead Rosalyns.
Penelope arrived late, which was new for her. She usually tried to be as early as socially acceptable so she could scout out a place to hide, but here she was, entering the party in the thick of it.
Her mother was at her side, thank goodness, looking tall and regal, and forestalling any worries that Penelope might have had about Derek Morgan. She'd be safe at her mother's side, free to hide away.
Emily and Lord Hotchner came to greet them, smiling. "I'm so glad to see you," Emily said, quickly embracing Penelope. "I was afraid that you were't going to come. What a lovely dress," she said warmly.
"That is why I am late," Penelope confessed. "Mother and I had to redo one of her pregnancy gowns."
"How ingenious," Emily said. "It looks quite good. Now, the tables aren't set yet by any means. Just join the table you'd like. I'm sure that the players will switch around anyway. That usually happens at my card parties." She mock frowned. "I wonder if it means that I am a bad hostess that no one sticks together as they do at others' card parties."
"It's more fun like this," Penelope assured her.
She saw her mother move toward a table filled with women her own age and sighed, knowing that there'd be no room for her there.
It was by no means packed, but there was a sizable crowd, enough of one to make Penelope a little panicked. She just wanted to find a quiet corner and pull out her book and reading glasses.
And then she brushed against someone. "I am so sorry," she said, turned and saw that it was Dr. Reid.
"Ah, Lady Penelope!" He exclaimed. "It is good to see you again."
She was at first relieved, since Dr. Reid was definitely a familiar face, but then she realized who would be accompanying him, and her eyes widened.
There was an almost palpable presence behind her.
"Ah," Dr. Reid said, carefully taking her arm to guide her through the rest of the crowd. "Have you met my friend Lord Derek Morgan?"
He turned her around, and she saw him standing in front of her, looking tall and imposing.
"I...don't know," she said, staring up at him.
"Derek, this is Lady Penelope Strauss," Dr. Reid was saying.
Penelope's heart beat in her ears, and she was only vaguely aware of letting Derek take her hand and raise it to his lips.
When his lips touched the soft skin of her hand, though, she became all too keenly aware of everything around her. Her whole world seemed to have heightened color, louder noises.
The touch of his lips was like fire, as it had been last night. Penelope felt rooted to the ground, like he'd stuck her there.
When he turned his eyes up to meet hers, there was something playing there, and he moved closer to be heard over the other voices in the room.
"We don't have a table yet," he said. "Would you like to join me and Dr. Reid?"
"Please do, Lady Penelope," Dr. Reid urged, and she knew that he, too, just wanted another familiar face.
"I...yes," she said, her voice faint to her own ears.
The smile on Derek Morgan's face was almost wicked. "Good," he said, the words close to her ear.
When Erin Strauss looked up, her daughter had found a table. From where Erin was seated, she couldn't tell who her companions were, but, knowing Emily's usual guest list, it was probably that Alexandra Blake had taken pity on her daughter again.
She wondered if they'd be playing Old Maid again, a game whose popularity Erin deplored.
She shook her head, as her own game of 500 came to a disappointing end. One of the ladies playing with her excused herself, and Erin wondered who'd take her place as the deck was shuffled.
"Ladies, may I join you?"
It was a voice she recognized instantly, and when she looked up David Rossi stood there, his eyes piercing through her in a moment, and she looked back down, a hot flush on her cheeks.
"Of course," Mrs. Swan said, without missing a beat. Andrea had always been a bit too welcoming of the nouveau riche, Erin reflected as David Rossi sat down in the vacated chair, that happened to be right across from her own.
The cards were dealt.
Erin looked at her hand, unable to concentrate in the least.
All she could think of was David Rossi across the table from her, eyes piercing through her with every glance.
Spencer doubted that this was the first time that Lady Penelope and Morgan had met, but when else could they have?
The way that Morgan was looking at her was almost dangerous; possessive and claiming, as he took Penelope's arm to guide her to an empty table.
Once there, a uniformed servant hurried forward to deal the cards for them.
"Do you wish any penalties?" The servant asked.
"No," Reid replied quickly.
"Very good, sir," the servant said. "I'll deal for 500 then."
"I don't think I know this one," Morgan reflected.
"It's brand new," Spencer replied. "It's easy to teach."
"Oh?" Morgan said, looking at his cards.
Penelope was in the chair next to him, wide eyed.
Spencer went through his cards quickly, deciding which to play.
"Are we making bets?" Penelope wondered. "To decide trump?"
"No trump," Morgan said decisively. "Just the Jokers."
"You're speaking confidently," Spencer said. "For someone who's unfamiliar with the game."
"There are rarely trump cards in life," Morgan ruminated, looking up at Penelope and seemingly talking to her and not to Spencer. "So why should there be in games?"
"Well said," Spencer replied, watching as Penelope picked a card out, biting her lip, seeing how Morgan watched the motion with heavy lidded eyes.
He wondered, again.
The game went on, with Spencer winning most rounds, but it was obvious that Lady Penelope and Morgan weren't in it to win it. At least, not the card game.
