There were far too many guests. Far, far too many guests. Penelope did not recall inviting such a large number, but then she had merely gone off the list the queen proposed. For the sake of the coup, of course.

Names, names, and more names. She had to pull so many names out of her head as nearly all of London's high society ventured in through her front doors. Leo stood at her side the entire time, with Scarlett on his arm. Colonel Ash hovered just behind them. He was out of Penelope's peripheral vision, but she could feel his presence. She could feel his steely gaze on her back.

As the stream of visitors began to lessen, Penelope found herself relaxing. At least until she arrived.

Sweeping through the front doors of Hutton Manor with her husband, Lady Caddel was a vision. Her blonde hair was swept to the side stylishly, while her gown was perfectly pressed. It was as if she hadn't even been riding in a carriage all day.

Penelope stiffened. She found herself breathing through her nose because her throat seemed to have closed up. But then a hand settled on the base of Penelope's spine, sending tingles up it, loosening her again. At the same time, Leo leaned in to mutter in her ear.

"I tried to convince Adelaide not to include her on the list." He shook his head. "I am sorry; however, remember that she is not her sister."

No, Lady Caddel was not her sister. She was not the woman who'd run off with Penelope's husband five years ago, never to return.

But she was her identical twin. And Penelope could not help but react at the sight of her.

Leo gave her arm a gentle pat as Lady Caddel approached, and it was then that Penelope realized that the hand on her back must not belong to him.

"Is something the matter, my lady?" Colonel Ash muttered behind her before his touch vanished, leaving Penelope feeling a tad chilled.

She glanced at him over her shoulder, meeting his stoic gaze. He was alert, his body tense. As tense as she'd been a moment ago.

"No," she breathed. "No, nothing is the matter."

***

Dinner was a disappointing affair. Penelope should have looked closer at the guest list that Adelaide had sent and purposefully not invited a single soul who outranked Leo and Scarlett.

But she had not. Which meant that her only true friends at this affair were sitting halfway down the table from her, and there was not a thing she could do about it unless she wished to insult Lord and Lady Barlow. Or the elderly marquess, Lord Whitlocke.

Penelope would not have minded insulting Lord and Lady Barlow, though. The duke and duchess had made a rather pointed comment regarding her lack of presence upon their arrival, and honestly, Penelope simply did not have time for cutting remarks at the dinner table. Even if the possibility remained that they were warranted.

If Lord and Lady Barlow believed Penelope's etiquette to be subpar, she wondered if she simply needed to run with it.

Somehow, though, she managed to refrain from rearranging the seating arrangements and instead entertained the hooked-nose duchess and her balding husband with trivial conversation.  Even Lord Whitlocke piped in from time to time, but the more he spoke in his sniveling voice, the more grateful Penelope was that the duke was between them. Despite his boorish attitude.

The soup that the cook had prepared was not particularly something Penelope was fond of, either. It was not that the soup was not to her taste; it very much was. Rather, it was a humid evening, and the warmth of the soup bubbled in her stomach. Actually, Penelope felt quite warm all over, despite the air flowing through the cracked windows in the dining room.

She figured it must be on account of the soup. Certainly, it could not be from how Colonel Ash stared at Penelope throughout the meal, his eyes refusing to waver from her face. Certainly, that could not be why she was feeling all hot. And flustered. And sticky beneath her clothes. Her clothes that he had laced into place.

Penelope had to take several very long sips of her water. She could simply feel the gaze of the man, even from the other side of the long table. That look of his was uncomfortably direct. Awfully forward, too.

Penelope was overwhelmingly relieved when dinner came to a close. And while many of the gentlemen remained for their evening port, Penelope was overjoyed to learn that the ladies all chose to retire, citing fatigue from their travels.

Meaning that Penelope could also retire. Especially since Leo had been one of the first to carry 'round the bottle of port; he would ensure her gentleman guests were entertained.

But all of the tension that had dissipated upon learning that Penelope could collapse into her four-poster bed quickly returned when she turned the corner that led to the west wing of the manor and ran into Colonel Ash himself.

He clutched both of her arms so that she would not teeter into the wall, and heat worked its way through her limbs. Again.

It must not have been the soup.

She peered up at him with a scowl. "What the devil are you doing? It is rather unbecoming of you to lurk around corners unseen like that, Colonel Ash."

His lips crept up in something that looked like it wanted to be a smile.

"I was waiting for you, of course."

Penelope did not know what to make of that response, so she busied herself with smoothing her silken skirts.

"You needn't have waited," she huffed eventually.

Colonel Ash seemed to find amusement in that. It was evident in the lilt of his voice. "Again, Lady Hutton, I was instructed by the queen to keep a keen eye on you."

Penelope narrowed her eyes at the man before sweeping around him, continuing down the dim hall.

"Tell me, Colonel Ash," she threw over her shoulder, noting that he was following her.

"I shall tell you anything you wish to know, my lady," he replied evenly.

"Did Her Majesty similarly instruct you to watch me eat with such scrutiny, Colonel? Was she rather concerned that I should choke during meals? Even on a measly bit of soup?"

His dry laugh drifted up from behind Penelope, but she refrained from turning to look at him.

"You are correct in that I did not take my eyes off you, my lady."

Penelope nearly tripped on her skirts again because he was using that low, deep voice again. Just like he had when he'd said her name earlier.

"But only because you were talking the entire time," he added. "It would have been rude not to give my attention to the host, would it not?"

"Oh, I—"

She snapped her mouth shut because stumbling on words was not something that Penelope often did. And she refused to do it now. Instead, she redoubled her speed, eager to escape this conversation that she'd foolishly begun; her chambers were now within sight.

"You may correct me if I am wrong," Colonel Ash called after her. "As I have mentioned, I am not well versed in the ton's etiquette."

As she reached her door, Penelope finally spun to look at the colonel, bracing herself.

"No, no," she said, trying not to catch his eye, finding the spot of wall just behind his head much more interesting. And then she switched to peering at the floorboards. She did not wish to see his reaction at how flushed her cheeks had become. "You are quite right, of course."

Silence greeted her words, and it grew between them. Uncomfortable and heavy. Finally, her eyes wandered up his trousers and waistcoat until they landed on that roguish face of his.

Roguish because there was a slight smirk dancing there.

"I think I shall retire," Penelope rushed to say.

He lifted a brow. "Are you in need of undressing?"

Penelope nearly choked. Which would have been quite embarrassing considering she had just made a point that she would never do such a thing.

"Or have you located your lady's maid?" he added, his smile growing.

"I am not in need, Colonel. Of undressing, that is."

She said it with a bit of a stammer, but at least she did not actually choke.

He nodded before opening the door next to hers.

"Simply knock if you change your mind, my lady."

And then he was gone.

But those words rang in Penelope's head all night long.