Francesca eventually rested her head lightly against Penelope's shoulder like she used to as a child. "I always imagined you would marry first," she whispered.
Pain moved quietly through Penelope's chest. "So did I."
She hesitated a moment before saying, "And I imagined Lord Ashbourne would look unbearably handsome standing beside you at the altar," She said quietly, catching her off guard. "I know it was too sudden, but I couldn't help it,"
Despite everything, a weak laugh escaped Penelope unexpectedly. "He would have looked terribly arrogant."
Francesca smiled against her shoulder. "Yes. But still handsome."
Silence followed once more, and this time, the two sisters found their very comfort in it. For a long while, they said nothing, buried under the warmth of themselves, and their unspoken thoughts.
Then Penelope's gaze drifted absently toward the darkening windows. One week until the Norwood ball, she thought.
