The Wit and Wisdom of Bridgerton by Julia Quinn

Author:Julia Quinn [Quinn, Julia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollinsPublishers
Published: 2021-09-01T16:00:00+00:00

IT HAS been reported to This Author that the Duke of Hastings mentioned no fewer than six times yestereve that he has no plans to marry. If his intention was to discourage the Ambitious Mamas, he made a grave error in judgment. They will simply view his remarks as the greatest of challenges.

LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS

30 APRIL 1813

* * *

If he couldn’t be the son his father wanted, then by God, he’d be the exact opposite . . .

* * *

“Prudence is quite accomplished on the pianoforte,” Mrs. Featherington said.

Simon noted the oldest girl’s pained expression and quickly decided never to attend a musicale chez Featherington.

“And my darling Phillipa is an expert watercolorist.”

Phillipa beamed.

“And Penelope?” some devil inside Simon forced him to ask.

Mrs. Featherington shot a panicked look at her youngest daughter, who appeared to be quite miserable. Penelope was not terribly attractive, and her somewhat pudgy figure was not improved by her mother’s choice of attire for her. But she seemed to have kind eyes.

“Penelope?” Mrs. Featherington echoed, her voice a touch shrill. “Penelope is . . . ah . . . well, she’s Penelope!” Her mouth wobbled into a patently false grin.

Penelope looked as if she wanted to dive under a rug. Simon decided that if he was forced to dance, he’d ask Penelope.

* * *

It was those eyes as much as anything that had earned him his reputation as a man to be reckoned with. When he stared at a person, clear and unwavering, men grew uncomfortable. Women positively shivered.

* * *

“I think I know what your mother would say.”

Daphne looked a little befuddled by his onslaught, but still she managed a rather defiant, “Oh?”

Simon nodded slowly, and he touched one finger to her chin. “She’d tell you to be very, very afraid.”

There was a moment of utter silence, and then Daphne’s eyes grew very wide. Her lips tightened, as if she were keeping something inside, and then her shoulders rose slightly, and then . . .

And then she laughed. Right in his face.

“Oh, my goodness,” she gasped. “Oh, that was funny.”

Simon was not amused.

“I’m sorry.” This was said between laughs. “Oh, I’m sorry, but really, you shouldn’t be so melodramatic. It doesn’t suit you.”

Simon paused, rather irritated that this slip of a girl had shown such disrespect for his authority. There were advantages to being considered a dangerous man, and being able to cow young maidens was supposed to be one of them.

“Well, actually, it does suit you, I ought to admit,” she added, still grinning at his expense. “You looked quite dangerous. That was your intention, was it not?”

He still said nothing, so she said, “Of course it was. . . . Truly, I’m quite flattered you thought me worthy of such a magnificent display of dukish rakishness.” She grinned, her smile wide and unfeigned. “Or do you prefer rakish dukishness?”

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