A palpable tension hung in the air within the confines of the Featherington carriage. Anthony's insistence on joining the ladies had clearly taken Eloise by surprise, leaving an awkward silence in the wake of Penelope's little ploy.
Eloise Bridgerton shot her friend a questioning look, one brow arched expectantly. "Well? Are you going to remind me whose calls we are to make today?"
There was an unmistakable lilt of amusement in her tone, letting Penelope know she was more than willing to play along with whatever scheme she had devised.
Penelope's lips curved into a secretive little smile as she met Anthony's inquisitive stare head-on, not even bothering to hide the playfulness dancing in her eyes. She could not resist allowing her gaze to flit over his frame in a slow, appreciative perusal.
Let the esteemed Viscount Anthony Bridgerton squirm a little under her scrutiny for once.
The carriage rolled to a stop, the footman swiftly moving to open the door. But Anthony had already gained his feet in one fluid motion, determined to be the one to hand the ladies down to the street.
Ever the gentleman – though Penelope intended to test the limits of his polished manners before the day was through.
Eloise's soft gasp drew her attention, those expressive eyes widening as she clearly recognized their location. "Pen? Is this.. Are we meant to be calling on the Smythe-Smiths?"
She sounded almost pained by the prospect, giving Penelope Featherington's arm a subtle pinch as if urging her to reconsider this torturous path.
But Penelope was undeterred, returning the playful gesture with a secretive wink. "Indeed, the Smythe-Smith estate is precisely where I intend to take our party for the afternoon."
Now it was Anthony's turn to appear bemused, his brow furrowing in a most delectable manner. "The Smythe-Smith ladies? But what business could you possibly have with that family?"
His skepticism was evident, clearly underestimating the depth of society Penelope and Eloise had entree into. Penelope Featherington could have kissed his cheek for playing directly into her trap.
Looping her arm through Eloise's, Penelope began ascending the front steps with practice grace, all too aware of Anthony's presence dogging their path as etiquette demanded.
When they reached the imposing front door, she threw one last, impish smile over her shoulder. "Why, to attend to their practices, of course! I simply cannot resist the.. Musical talents of the Smythe-Smith quartet."
The utter bafflement contorting Anthony Bridgerton's handsome face was almost too delicious for words. But Penelope stayed resolutely composed, granting the butler admittance with a serene smile and quiet murmur of thanks.
Behind her, Eloise poorly smothered a burst of laughter, shaking her head in grudging admiration. Her friend was an absolute hellion beneath that sweet facade – Anthony wouldn't know what hit him!
For Penelope knew all too well just how torturous an experience sitting through the screeching vocals and cacophonous musicality of Lady Smythe-Smith's daughters could be. Especially for one with as refined an ear as the Viscount.
If Anthony believed he could insert himself into her company uninvited and unwanted, then he had best be prepared to face the consequences. A slow, wicked grin curved Penelope's mouth as she anticipated those consequences unfolding before the day was done.
This time, it was the Viscount's turn to be utterly and delightfully miserable.
—-
The drawing room of the Smythe-Smith residence was a flurry of excited chatter as Lady Virginia herself ushered Penelope, Anthony and Eloise inside with warm embraces.
"Oh Miss Featherington, you are most kind!" The elderly matriarch exclaimed, positively beaming at Penelope. "To honor us with a visit during preparations for the musicale.. My girls shall be over the moon!"
Penelope returned the woman's smile with equal warmth and sincerity. "It is my pleasure, I assure you. I wouldn't dream of missing your daughters' rehearsals."
Lady Virginia blinked, her eyes suddenly shining with grateful tears. She opened her mouth, no doubt to articulate the depth of her gratitude, but Penelope stayed her with a gentle pat of her hand. "Now, now, none of that, my lady. Shall we join your daughters? I can hardly wait to hear their progress."
Nodding briskly, Lady Virginia led the way towards the sound of off-key scales and squeaky violet strings. Eloise shot Penelope a pointed look over the cacophony, to which the redhead could only shrug, the very picture of guileless innocence.
They entered the music room just as Honoria and Iris Smythe-Smith abandoned their torturous efforts, laying down their instruments in relief. Bright smiles split their faces as they caught sight of the familiar guests.
"Why, if it isn't our dearest Penelope!" Honoria bounded forward to embrace her, every inch the boisterous hoyden. "And Miss Eloise too!" She tilted her head, catching sight of Anthony hovering uncertainly behind them. "Oh, I did not dream you'd be accompanied by a dashing companion, Miss Featherington..."
Penelope laughed lightly, squeezing Honoria's shoulders. "May I introduce Viscount Bridgerton? He was.. Determined to join our party for the afternoon."
Penelope's impish gaze slid towards Anthony, taking petty delight in the uneasy expression gracing his strong features. Clearly, this was not at all what he'd envisioned when insisting on accompanying them.
Oblivious to the tension brewing, Honoria bobbed a cheerful curtsy, ever the abysmal judge of character. "A genuine honor, my lord. And congratulations on your engagement. Any friend of Penelope is a friend of ours!"
Before Anthony could reply, Iris rejoined the group, shuffling somewhat reluctantly. "Is it true you've come to attend our rehearsal, Penelope? Oh thank heavens – Henrietta and Lydia have been dreadfully unreliable as of late."
Lady Virginia tutted in a very maternal fashion. "A fact which simply cannot be abided, not with the performance so near at hand." Her gaze turned beseeching as it fell upon Penelope once more. "My dear, might I impose upon you to assist? Your guidance at the pianoforte works wonders in improving the girls' skills."
Penelope's lips parted with the faintest hint of surprise before curving into a soft indulgent smile. "Of course, my lady, you need not ask. It would be my genuine pleasure."
A chorus of excited squeals erupted from the Smythe-Smith sisters. Even Anthony had to admit, seeing Penelope so warmly embraced by these eccentric members of the ton filled him with unexpected pride.
As did the gob smacked look of reverence that crossed Eloise's face when her friend crossed to the pianoforte with such calm, effortless grace.
"You never mentioned Penelope was so.. Accomplished at the instrument." Anthony muttered under his breath.
Eloise blinked, momentarily thrown by her brother's frank curiosity before quickly recovering her wits. "There are many hidden talents to our Penelope." She replied, arching one eloquent brow. "Ones you would be wise not to underestimate, brother."
Then, with a sly parting grin, Eloise moved to join Lady Virginia's side, leaving her brother to contemplate her cryptic words in solitude.
Poised with an effortless grace, Penelope's skilled fingers began to glide across the ivory keys. The first few notes of Mozart's concerto rang out, rich and pure, immediately commanding the entire room to stillness.
It was as if a heavenly presence had descended upon them all. Penelope seemed utterly transformed, an angel given human form solely to channel this divine music. Her face was alight with serene beauty, drawing every eye helplessly in her direction.
Eloise and Lady Virginia were among the first enraptured, their eyes slipping shut as they surrendered fully to the emotive melody. Even the sisters, Honoria and Iris, held their breaths in reverence despite having heard Penelope's talents many times before.
But for Anthony Bridgerton, this unveiling of his betrothed's remarkable gift struck him with the force of a physical blow. He could only gape, utterly transfixed, as Penelope coaxed each flawless note to life. His heart stuttered wildly within the confines of his chest.
How was it possible for one woman to embody such effortless, heavenly beauty?
She was resplendent in that moment, the dim light of the music room gilding her porcelain skin and vibrant curls until she appeared a renaissance masterpiece made flesh. Just as she had that fateful night in his family's gardens so long ago – Penelope Featherington was ethereal, transcendent in her radiance.
A lump formed in Anthony's throat, robbing him of speech and breath alike. What could he possibly have done to be granted the honor of loving such as an exquisite, wildly talented woman?
His basking in her brilliance was abruptly shattered seconds later as the harsh, discordant notes of not one, but two violins pierced the tranquility. Anthony's eyes slammed shut, his teeth gritting against the blatant auditory assault.
Eloise and Lady Virginia both scrambled to maintain composure, stubbornly keeping their expressions pleasantly neutral though their discomfort was palpable.
Penelope alone seemed unruffled, infusing more passion into her playing as if striving to overpower – or at least complement – the squawking strings. But though her notes remained pristine, the overall effect was utterly disastrous.
Anthony could not bite back the tortured wince contorting his features. His brow furrowed deeply, dark eyes squinting against the musical onslaught as it manifested as a physical, blinding light.
Few steps away from him, Eloise was rapidly losing her own battle, lips twitching in poorly concealed hysteria. He shot her a quelling glare, silently willing her amusement distant lest he too crumble into utterly inappropriate guffaws.
At long last, blessedly, the concerto ended on a finally, plaintive note. Penelope rose from the bench, back straight yet entirely relaxed, the very picture of inborn elegance.
"That was simply wonderful, ladies!" She praised with warm sincerity. "Your progress from last I heard you has been extraordinary. Bravo!"
Anthony blinked, wholly dumbfounded by his beloved's capacity for falsehoods. Even the Smythe-Smith sisters appeared vaguely skeptical yet still grateful, shuffling their feet.
The carriage ride home was predictably tense, weighted with unspoken sentiments. It was Eloise who finally broke, throwing back her head with a rich peal of laughter.
"Oh Anthony, your face!" Eloise reached across the cramped space to give his arm a playful swat. "Did you truly think Penelope simply dragged us along for aimless torment? Really, you ought to know her far better than that by now."
His sister's conspiratorial wink made him bristle, leveling her a flat stare as realization bloomed. "So this was your scheme all along, was it?" He directed the question towards Penelope though his eyes remained trained on his sniggering sister. "Revenge for the Abernathy ball, I take it."
Finally, Penelope surrendered to her impish delight, features alight with mischievous glee. "Indeed it was, my lord. Tell me, how did you enjoy the... music?"
With a rueful huff, Anthony accepted his fate as audience and victim to this delightful plot. Shaking his head with grudging admiration, he met Penelope's sparkling gaze.
"Breathtaking." He deadpanned. "If not entirely pleasant."
The carriage overflowed with fresh laughter then, warm and genuine. And for the first time, Anthony found he didn't begrudge the teasing remarks one bit. Not when his torment had been orchestrated with such devilishly clever charm.
Mark his words, Penelope would not get away so easily next time. But Anthony found he looked forward to their inevitable clash of wits immensely.