Francesca seemed fascinated by all of it. She leaned toward the window, watching everything with quiet interest.
Penelope smiled. "Enjoy looking now," She said, drawing her attention.
Francesca turned, her eyes flashing in fascination. "Why?"
"Because after a few weeks, you will be tired of seeing the same streets filled with the same carriages carrying the same people to the same places."
Francesca smiled. "I do not think I shall."
She said. She'd lived in France long enough to know the stark difference, but there was something absolutely mesmerizing about London.
Or so she thought.
"You will," Penelope said, sounding sure.
"You sound very certain," Francesca pointed out, studying her.
She didn't deny it. "I have experience."
Francesca looked at her for a moment. "Did you ever enjoy it?"
Penelope's gaze returned to the window and she said, "Once."
"Once?" She repeated.
"Perhaps."
She did not elaborate.
