Chapter Twenty-Two: An Invaluable Ally

"Wallflowers," Lucy murmured, "! Simply ridiculous. I could get that girl shipped across the ocean without anyone noticing."

"You what?" Franny gasped, almost falling into the carriage. Well, better in than out.

"Of course, your Aunt's exaggerating," Henry replied with a reassuring smile, but the sharp glare Lucy shot him didn't exactly settle Franny's concerns. Dear God, were the Granvilles involved with the mafia? Did they run it?

"We prefer a quiet solution as we do not want to draw attention to ourselves, do we," Henry explained in a patient tone.

"Do not use that patronizing tone on me Henry Granville if you wish to continue this journey in the carriage and not under it," Lucy snapped.

Henry raised his hands in surrender, "Or, of course, we can go full-on assault mode. Burn the Cowper House to the ground. Don't take any hostages."

"Auntie," Franny cut in before her aunt could strangle her uncle, "Can I get out? I must talk to Penelope."

"The Featherington girl?" Lucy inquired, "Do you truly need to see her at this very moment?"

"Yes."

Lucy waved her hands as if saying .

"Please?"

Henry, returning the favour, replied, "Sure dearest, but please head home after it. And the sooner the better."

"I promise, thank you," Franny knocked on the top of the carriage not giving her aunt the chance to disagree and quickly jumped out when it came to a halt.

✦

After sitting for a few awkward minutes under the suspecting gaze at Mrs. Featherington and listening to her daughters pestering each other, Penelope came to Franny's rescue and took her to her room.

"I suspect you very well know I am not a proponent for small talk, I might just get to the point. I know that you are Lady Whistledown," Franny cut to the chase.

Penelope looked taken aback for a split second before bursting out in laughter. Franny narrowed her eyes in frustration, giving a few minutes for Penelope to finish the theatrics. Her act was good, that much Franny had to admit, but she had already caught a smell and wasn't going to stop, especially not when she needed Lady Whistledown to be on her side.

"Franny, I am merely a shy debutante, very far away from the notorious writer who has wrapped the whole ton around her finger," Penelope waved with her hand dismissively and chattered in a light tone.

"But you are not merely shy debutante, are you," Franny pressed on, lowering the tone at the end of the sentence. She frowned and seized Penelope up who met her gaze with an amused expression. Franny knew that she wasn't going to stare the truth out of her.

"Very well, I do not intend to insult your intelligence by throwing unsupported allegations around. Let me lay my case before you, and when I am done, I hope you will not insult my intelligence either by denying the facts."

Penelope didn't say a word, which Franny interpreted as a green light.

"I do agree with Eloise that Lady Whistledown must be one with considerable means, connections and time. And of course, a woman, that has never been the question, no man would notice the details and pick up on the subtle signs as she does. Eloise suspects that she might be a widow, after all, widows are invited to all social events and not expected to take part in courting which gives them plenty of time to lay back and observe, not to mention that they have considerable financial resources at their disposal. Lady Whistledown is very smart and cheeky which also points towards a widow, with life experience and the confidence to insult half of the ton in such a sublime manner. I do not have anything to counter that theory, indeed, it has led me astray. Alas, Marina's case changed everything."

Franny stopped for a second to let her words hang in the air. She has learnt from her aunt that a pinch of dramatics always enhances the message. Franny noticed that Penelope's undisturbed countenance somehow faltered. She was sitting on the edge of the sofa, her posture stiffened, and her eyes narrowed very slightly, suggesting that she was eager to hear what Franny was going to say.

"Before Marina, most of the gossips that reached Lady Whistledown could have been picked up by anyone who took part in the events of the ton. Someone with great observational skills, no doubt, but the scandals were always whispered around, even if no one dared to articulate them. Moreover, Lady Whistledown has also a great talent for telling gossip and fact apart, which once again attest to her intelligence, but going further away to her fair spirit also. I have always felt a touch of social justice in her voice but correct me if I am mistaken. Albeit, poor Daphne Bridgerton has never hurt a fly in her life, so I do think she was mistreated, but let's not get caught up on details. Back to Marina, she was different, it was... personal. I doubt that anyone outside the Featherington household would have been privy to her secret. No, it was very well kept, maybe even kept from the servants, if such a thing is possible."

Penelope shifted in her seat again, and Franny suppressed a small smile. She was enjoying the tension that hung in the air, and, let's just be frank about it, showing off. However, she reminded herself that she needed Lady Whistledown's help.

"That doesn't rule out servants," Penelope pointed out shrewdly.

"Come to think of it..., Franny replied, "it would be brilliant to operate a servant gossip network. Albeit, servants have their hands full, they would not be able to find the time to write. Not to mention they lack the means and connections to publish papers."

Penelope did not infer, so Franny continued, "I apologise, but I do not think that either Prudence or Philippa have the wits to be Lady Whistledown, and judging by the tone she writes about the Featheringtons, we can rule out Lady Featherington as well. So, clue one," Franny held up her pixie finger to illustrate her point.

"Clue two," second finger, "I noticed that in this issue Lady Whistledown suddenly started calling me Franny. I assure you, I do not give my nickname to many people, only those I like, so very few. Consequently, my aunt and uncle, who I can say with 100% confidence are not Lady Whistledown, Lord Wetherby or Benedict, males, so out of question, that leaves the Bridgertons, and you, Penelope. Now, Lady Bridgerton would be an ideal candidate, but she has her hands full with playing wingwoman to her children, and I have mentioned before Daphne's not so welcoming portrayal in the so-called Society Papers. Eloise, however brilliant she is, definitely is not Lady Whistledown, even if her committed chase to reveal her identity would be a great cover story. Hyacinth, who I am sure will be a force to be reckoned with, is too young. That leaves you, Penelope."

Penelope chuckled lightly, "Your name is not exactly a secret, Franny. Any of these people could have mentioned it to someone, thus giving it away."

"That could be true, Penelope," Franny retorted, secretly enjoying this war of wits, "but as I have said, I do keep my nickname to myself. Lady Whistledown insisted on calling me Frances Granville throughout the whole season, only with the exception of the latest issue. Now, she must have thought that she was only late to the party of finding out my nickname, which was perfectly sensible of her, after all, who would keep their nickname a secret? I, however, do," she made her point, but Penelope was still wearing that little, unconvinced smile of hers.

"Very well, let's move on to clue three," another finger held up, "Colin."

Penelope's chest rose almost imperceptibly, but enough for Franny to pick up on it. She suspected that this was the point that would finally lay her case.