Discovering the Devil

T h i r t y - t h r e e

XXXII

POLLY licked the icing off her fingertips. "That pastry was divine."

"It was," Penelope agreed. "Our new cook is excellent." The two of them were seated comfortably by the edge of a lake. She turned to her friend guiltily. "I am so sorry, Pol."

"Don't apologize. It's not your fault."

"It is! I'm the reason that your occasion was ruined. It should've been about you."

Polly shook her head. "The brawl did not ruin the occasion, it was already so late. Nothing happened at the ceremony. That is what is important."

"What is important is the bride and the groom," Penelope insisted. "I ruined that."

"No, our dear duke did that all by himself," Polly replied. "You didn't do a thing."

"Still." Penelope plucked a dandelion and twirled it between her fingers. "Extend my apologies to your man as well. I've already put my apology in writing, but it does not hurt to be diligent." Penelope blew on the weed and watched the feathery white seeds scatter in the air. "I do hope he doesn't hate us."

"Drew?" Polly frowned. "Why would he hate you?"

"I've never been kind to him, Pol."

"You were doing your due diligence as a friend."

"I was nasty. I called him a dwarf."

Polly laughed. "So, now you admit to calling him a dwarf?"

Penelope sighed. "And he has no reason to like Harry. I'm sure Drew was against the idea of his attending the wedding. Look how we've proved him right."

Polly squeezed her friend's shoulder. "You're my sister. My beautiful, prickly, and rather difficult sister."

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment."

"Drew doesn't mind you, Pen. He was concerned when rumors of you and Earl started."

Penelope laughed dryly. "I'm sure."

"Not disgust or patriarchal concern about your virginity and such—though we both know that was gone a long time ago."

Penelope rolled her eyes. "Yes, thank you, Pol."

"It was a real, brotherly concern. He's always cared for you more than you cared for him."

Penelope put a hand to her heart. "What a sweetheart."

"There you go mocking him again."

"Mocking? I'm not being sarcastic, I'm being serious."

"It doesn't sound like it. You never call anyone sweetheart."

"I am now," Penelope said. The water glistened temptively. If it was another day Penelope might've gone beneath its depths.

"You are different now, you know."

"Really?"

Polly gestured to Penelope's gown, which was old and rather drab. "You're not as...flashy. You've matured, I think."

Penelope thought of the girl a few months ago who had stamped her feet and fled to Hawthorne's hallowed halls. She didn't think she was that person anymore either. "It's Harry."

"Yes, he's put a light in your eyes too." Penelope turned away sheepishly. "Oh look, you're blushing."

"Like you would know."