Perhaps she hadn’t worn quite enoughDuchessyesterday afternoon.Perhaps Saint Nick was immune to her scent, faux or otherwise.Perhaps there were too many factors outside her control.Perhaps the experiment was over before it truly began.
“What’s wrong?”Virginia asked, her brow furrowed in concern.
“I’m working on a new perfume,” Penelope admitted.“It’s not going well.”
Virginia’s eyes sparkled in understanding.“You don’t want a mate.You’d liketomate.”
“Shh.”Penelope darted her gaze about the entrance hall to ensure no one had overheard.“Fine.I wouldn’t sob if he kissed me.But it’s not going to happen.Worse, he wants me to stop what I’m doing.”
Virginia nodded in commiseration.“He wants you to stop looking drab?”
“He wants me to stop using science.”Penelope’s teeth clenched.“He wants me to throw away my greatest success.He thinks it’s a failure.A monster that should never have existed.”
“He is probably smitten,” Virginia said.“Men say the stupidest things when they’re in love.”
“He’s not in love,” Penelope burst out.“I doubt he believes in it any more than I do.”
Virginia lifted her brows.“When has belief in love ever stopped it from happening?”
Penelope shook her head.“He lives for pleasure.I live for science.We’re incompatible.”
“Change your experiment,” Virginia said.“Tally your observations of people in love until you prove to yourself it exists.”
“I can’t prove it’sforever,” Penelope said after a moment.“One can observe instances where love does not last, but not predict with any certainty when it will.”
Virginia tilted her head.“Then what can you prove?”
“Desire,” Penelope said simply.“All animals share an impulse to mate with one another.Yet they do not mate with all individuals of their kind.They choose.It is the selection process that interests me.If it can be influenced by chemistry, I will find a way to do so.”
“Oh.”Virginia cocked a brow.“You want to be the chosen biscuit.That’s why you’re tallying.”
Penelope let out a frustrated sigh.“I do not want to be a…”
Did she?As soon as she’d heard the knock upon her door yesterday afternoon, she had dabbed on extra drops ofDuchessfor the experiment.Not for emotional reasons.
“I see.”Virginia gave a smile of commiseration.“You don’t want to just be part of the selection.You want to be the burnt biscuit that gets chosen first anyway.”
Penelope glared at her friend.
Virginia had the strangest way of phrasing almost everything, but she was very rarely wrong.
Penelopewasburnt.Drab.Left out cold.Crumbling at the edges.But she needed to be, for the perfume trial.Her clients would want to be chosen first.They would expectDuchessto help them achieve it.If such a feat could happen for Penelope, it could be recreated for anyone.Chemistry in a bottle.
Virginia lifted Penelope’s wrist and sniffed.“Is that why you are drabber than usual?”
Penelope yanked her wrist out of Virginia’s grasp.“Is ‘drabber’ a word?”
“There isn’t a word for…” Virginia waved a hand in the direction of Penelope’s carefully chosen attire.“This.”
“Yes, if you must know.To prove the effect is due to the perfume, I must be unattractive in every other way.I can wear the oldest, most comfortable clothes in my wardrobe—”
“This particular frock should be incinerated.”
“—I can amuse myself spending an hour to make my hair as frizzy and lopsided as possible—”
“It doesn’t look like you remembered it was on your head at all.”
“—and I needn’t bother attempting to be graceful or coquettish or sultry.It’s quite freeing.Why are you being so negative about it?”
