Lady Whitmore's brows rose at her words, clearly in utter disbelief, while Celia gave a small laugh. "On your own—?"
Penelope lifted the ivory card just enough for the royal seal to catch the light. The crimson wax gleamed like blood, shutting them entirely.
For one perfect moment, both women stared in silence, as disbelief took over their expressions. Just the way she had been in incredulity when the invitation arrived. I would've been surprised if I were in your shoes, Penelope thought.
Then Celia's face paled, and Lady Whitmore's carefully arranged expression faltered.
"I, too, received an invitation from the royal house," The words were delivered with effortless politeness, yet the effect was immediate as shock flickered openly across their features.
Good. Let them gossip with this next.
Celia recovered first, though poorly. "You?" she blurted.
Penelope's smile did not waver at her reaction. Oh dear. "Yes." She simply replied.
