His expression did not shift. "May I have the honor of this dance?" he asked instead, offering his arm. Penelope opened her mouth to speak, but ended up speechless.
Her gaze drifted briefly towards the gallery, half-expecting to find those pair of grey eyes only to discover the spot empty. It seemed like his presence was long gone, leaving the gallery less… occupied. She felt a wave of disappointment heavy in her stomach, disappearing immediately it came.
Penelope turned, and with a practical smile, she linked hers as an approval. Lord Philip led her towards the dance floor, blending in with the others.
She could somehow feel Celia's gaze behind, and when she turned in her stance, lo and behold, the odious witch glared in their direction, eyes filled with disdain.
