The carriage slowed.
Penelope straightened instinctively. Through the window, she could see the first signs of the gathering ahead: carriages arriving one after another, gentlemen standing near the entrance, and ladies moving toward the gardens in carefully arranged gowns and bonnets.
Beyond them, the gardens stretched beneath the brightening sky, green and freshly washed from the previous day's rain.
Francesca leaned slightly toward the window. "Oh."
Penelope looked at her. "What?"
"It is beautiful."
Penelope followed her gaze.
It was.
The garden looked almost too perfect, the sunlight catching upon the wet leaves and flowerbeds while servants moved discreetly along the paths, ensuring everything appeared effortless.
The carriage came to a complete stop.
Lady Sophia gathered her skirts. "We have arrived."
Francesca took a breath.
Penelope looked at her sister, then reached for her hand. "Ready?"
Francesca smiled nervously. "As ready as I shall ever be."
