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Then again, she couldn't remember the last time a gentleman had called upon her, much less the one with whom she'd been desperately in love for almost half of her life.wSettle down," she said, spreading her fingers and pressing her flattened palms out in much the same motion she might make if she were trying to placate a small, unruly crowd. "You must remain calm.

Calm," she repeated, as if that would actually do the trick. "Calm." But inside, her heart was dancing.

She took a few deep breaths, walked over to her dressing table, and picked up her hairbrush. It would only take a few minutes to repin her hair; surely Colin wasn't going to flee if she kept him waiting for a short while. He'd expect her to take a bit of time to ready herself,wouldn't he?

But still, she found herself fixing her hair in record time, and by the time she stepped through the sitting room door, a mere five minutes had passed since the butler's announcement.wThat was quick," Colin said with a quirky grin. He'd been standing by the window, peering out at Mount Street.wOh, was it?" Penelope said, hoping that the heat she felt on her skin wasn't translating into a blush. a woman was supposed to keep a gentleman waiting, although not too long. Still, it made no sense to hold to such silly behavior with Colin, of all people. He would never be interested in her in a romantic fashion, and besides, they were friends.

Friends. It seemed like such an odd concept, and yet that was exactly what they were. They'd always been friendly acquaintances, but since his return from Cyprus, they'd become friends in truth.

It was magical.

Even if he never loved her—and she rather thought he never would—this was better than what they'd had before.

'To what do I owe the pleasure?" she asked, taking a seat on her mother's slightly faded yellowdamask sofa.

Colin sat across from her in a rather uncomfortable straight-backed chair. He leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees, and Penelope knew instantly that something was wrong. It simply wasn't the pose a gentleman adopted for a regular social call. He looked too distraught, too intense.wIt's rather serious," he said, hisface grim.

Penelope nearly rose to her feet. "Has something happened? Issomeone ill?"wNo, no, nothing like that." He paused, let out a long breath, then raked his hand through his already mussed-up hair. "It's about Eloise."wWhat is it?"wI don't know how to say this. I—Do you have anything to eat?"

Penelope was ready to wring his neck. "For heaven's sake, Colin!"wSorry," he muttered. "I haven't eaten all day."wA first, I'm sure," Penelope said impatiently. "I already told Briarly to fix a tray. Now, will you just tell me what is wrong, or do you plan to wait until I expire of impatience?"wI think she's Lady Whistledown," he blurted out.

Penelope's mouth fell open. She wasn't sure what she'd expected him to say, but it wasn't this.wPenelope, did you hear me?"wEloise?" she asked, even though she knew exactly who he was talking about.

He nodded.wShe can't be."

He stood and began to pace, too full of nervous energy to sit still. "Why not?"wBecause ... because..." Because why? "Because there is no way she could have done that for ten years without my knowing."

His expression went from disturbed to disdainful in an instant. "I hardly think you're privy to everything that Eloise does."wOf course not," Penelope replied, giving him a rather irritated look, "but I can tell you with absolute certainty that there is no way Eloise could keep a secret of that magnitude from me for over ten years.

She's simply not capable of it."wPenelope, she's the nosiest person I know."wWell, that much is true," Penelope agreed. "Except for my mother, I suppose. But that's hardly enough to convict her."

Colin stopped his pacing and planted his hands on his hips. "She is always writing things down."wWhy would you think that?"

He held up his hand, rubbing his thumb briskly against his fingertips. "Inkstains. Constantly."wLots of people use pen and ink." Penelope motioned broadly at Colin. "You write in journals. I am certain you've had your share of ink on your fingers."wYes, but I don't disappear when I write in my journals."

Penelope felt her pulse quicken. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice growing breathless.wI mean that she locks herself in her room for hours on end, and it's after those periods that her fingers are covered with ink."

Penelope didn't say anything for an agonizingly long moment. Colin's "evidence" was damning, indeed, especially when combined with Eloise's well-known and well-documented penchant for nosiness.

But she wasn't Lady Whistledown. She couldn't be. Penelope would bet her life on it.

Finally Penelope just crossed her arms and, in a tone of voice that probably would have been more at home on an exceedingly stubborn six-year-old, said, "It's not her. It's not."

Colin sat back down, looking defeated. "I wish I could share your certainty."wColin, you need to—"wWhere the hell is the food?" he grumbled.

She should have been shocked, but somehow his lack of manners amused her. "I'm sure Briarlywill be here shortly."

He sprawled into a chair. "I'm hungry."wYes," Penelope said, lips twitching, "I surmised asmuch."

He sighed, weary and worried. "If she's Lady Whistledown, it'll be a disaster.A pure, unmitigated disaster."wIt wouldn't be that bad," Penelope said carefully. "Not that I think she's Lady Whistledown, because I don't! But truly, if she were, would it be so very dreadful? I rather like Lady Whistledown myself."wYes, Penelope," Colin said rather sharply, "it would be so very dreadful.She'd be ruined."wI don't think she'd be ruined... ."wOf course she'd be ruined. Do you have any idea how many people that woman has insulted over the years?"wI didn't realize you hated Lady Whistledown so much," Penelope said.wI don't hate her," Colin said impatiently. "It doesn't matter if I hate her. Everyone else hates her."wI don't think that's true. They all buy her paper."wOf course they buy her paper! Everyone buys her bloody paper."wColin!"wSorry," he muttered, but it didn't really sound like he meant it.