Penny knew that Gen could only be surprised to see her in possession of such a thing. After all, Penny was the complacent one, the one who had always accepted her place in life. Penny had never shown signs of longing for adventure and to anyone's knowledge, Penny never left the grounds of the Brisbois estate unsupervised. But then, no one else had yet realized that dear, reliable Penny had tasted the intoxicating sweetness of freedom. Honest, open Penny was harboring secrets.
In a way, the little vial was like symbol of those secrets. It wasn't the sort of thing a girl like Penny should have in her possession. Indeed, it wasn't the sort of thing any proper young lady should even if most would like very much to have it.
"It's a potion," Penny whispered hoarsely. "A love potion." As though she almost couldn't bear the sight of it any longer, she closed her hand around the vial. It looked so delicate, the glass, but it felt firm in her hand, as though she could clasp it with all her might and it still would not break.
Penny wanted to try and explain why she had it, to rationalize to her sister why she would be in possession of such a thing but she couldn't. Again, the words stuck in her throat and she could produce no sound. What could she even say? Could she even admit to the horrible taste of jealousy, to the shameful fact that she wanted to be vibrant and loved as her sister was. How could Genevieve even understand when she had the love both of their father and a man she herself loved in return? How could Penny even begin to explain the longing she felt to just be held tenderly, knowing that the one who held her loved her.
"We might find a way... a way to use it to your... to our advantage," Penny whispered, the most she could muster, though she clearly included herself as a way to show her sister that she was with her, supporting her, whatever had led her to where she was. Despite everything, there was no denying that Penny did indeed love her sister with all her heart.