One was still in his teens, to judge by his coltish appearance. He was tall and slender, all arms and legs and awkward movements. When he had outgrown his adolescence, he would be handsome. He had something of the look of Penfel around the eyes, and the same dark hair. The other was an older, altogether less prepossessing gentleman with blond hair. A pair of spectacles perched on the end of his nose lent him a bookish air, though his shoulders were broad. The two gentlemen stopped talking and turned to examine the ladies as they entered, then went forward to meet them. Lady Susan was not tardy to put herself at the front of the line to greet her cousins. Always a demon for propriety, she greeted the older brother first. “Penfel,” she said. “I had not heard you were to be here. I thought you were at Lewes. Is one to assume Lady Eleanor rejected your offer?” Penfel’s jaws worked in silent annoyance. “We found we did not suit. Kind of you to ask. Delightful to see you again, Susan.”
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