The Year I Was the Other Woman To Myself novel Chapter 391

Penelope found the move childishly transparent, but she wasn’t about to let it slide. As she started to walk over, Mrs. Bishop stepped in her path.

“You really have no sense of occasion, Ms. Laurier,” Mrs. Bishop said with a disapproving frown. “It’s quite chilly out here, and these ladies are in thin dresses. Instead of inviting them inside for tea, you’re making them stand here in the cold to chat with you.”

Penelope narrowed her eyes. The mother-daughter duo was certainly coordinated. One was busy stealing her place at Theodore’s side, hogging the spotlight, while the other publicly criticized her, pointing out her supposed shortcomings for all to see. The goal was obvious: to make everyone subconsciously believe that Yvonne was the more suitable Mrs. Stapleton, the one who could handle these affairs with grace, while Penelope would only bring shame to the family.

A small smile played on Penelope’s lips. “Are you chastising me, Mrs. Bishop?”

Mrs. Bishop feigned surprise. “I’m teaching you. After all, you’ve never attended a gala of this caliber before.”

“You’ve attended many, I presume, Mrs. Bishop? And yet you don’t seem to understand the simple courtesy of letting the host lead the way?”

Mrs. Bishop’s expression stiffened. “It’s just so chilly…”

“Which is why I’ve already invited the ladies to the glass conservatory on the mountainside, where they can enjoy the view over coffee. But perhaps you find a sun-drenched conservatory too cold as well, Mrs. Bishop. In that case, feel free to return to your room, turn up the heat, and huddle under a thick blanket.”

“Oh, so you’ve already made arrangements. Please, forgive an old woman for rambling. Don’t mind me, Ms. Laurier.”

“You should address me as ‘Mrs. Stapleton.’ At least at an event like this.”

Mrs. Bishop’s smile faltered. “Of course, Mrs. Stapleton, we…”

“Ms. Bishop!” Penelope cut her off, raising her voice to call out to Yvonne. “Standing so close to my husband might give people the wrong impression, that you’re Mrs. Stapleton. Of course, we don’t mind, but you’re not yet married. I’m simply concerned for your reputation.”

The statement was so blunt that even with her thick skin, Yvonne couldn’t bear to stay there a moment longer and walked over.

Penelope smirked. If they wanted to play dirty, she would just be direct. The one who ended up embarrassed wouldn't be her.

It was a provocative question, but it accurately reflected the subtext of Yvonne’s words. Several of the women’s expressions soured.

Seeing her daughter about to erupt, Mrs. Bishop quickly intervened, pulling her back with a strained smile. “Whatever are you talking about, Mrs. Stapleton? I’m right here, am I not? I wouldn't dream of neglecting these wonderful ladies.”

“In that case, let’s head to the conservatory. But Mrs. Bishop, what about you?”

“I’ll join everyone, of course.”

“Then it looks like we’ll need to add another cup. Oh, and Ms. Bishop, are you coming too?”

Yvonne secretly gritted her teeth. Penelope’s meaning was crystal clear: she hadn't planned on inviting them at all; they were just forcing their way in.

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