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Chapter Text

Dearest Gentle reader,

We've been apart for far too long. At last, London's smart set has made its return and so too has this author. As the season begins, the question on everyone's minds is, of course, which newly minted debutante will shine the brightest. The crop this year appears to be dazzling indeed. Unfortunately, not every young lady can attract the light. And perhaps not every young lady wants to. This author pities whichever young lady this year has the spotlight shone upon her, calling to attention every sharp clawed mama whose daughter was not bestowed such an honor and every nefarious gentleman only wanting the most dazzling prize for himself. No, this author is very much pleased that she may remain in the shadows…

The ton was in a flurry, every Lord and Lady had their hands on the latest Whistledown. Of course, she had been busy during the off season but there was something so special about the first official pamphlet of the social season. Only one family, congregated on Grosvenor Square, shunned the pages. They instead focused their attention on a newly returned sister, dressed for her presentation to the Queen. 

“You look so lovely, dearest. Oh, I do not think I am ready to lose another one of you from the family home so soon!” Their mother cried.

“Well, if she is anything like Eloise, there will be many years left before you need to worry about that.” The second eldest brother quipped.

“Oh and you have a wife, do you, brother?” Eloise shot back, “and where pray-tell are you hiding her?”

Her brother returned her retort by pulling a childish face.

“Stop!” Demanded the Viscount. “Stop your bickering at once. You must know how important this day is and that it must go perfectly.”

His wife, Kate, who stood anxiously beside Francesca took a deep calming breath and squeezed the girl’s hand. 

“It will go perfectly!” Violet soothed. “Fran takes so much after Daphne, I am sure she will be named the diamond!”

To hide her scowl, Eloise turned away. Her scowl was quickly replaced by surprise. “Is that…” she squinted into the distance toward a man approaching on horseback. 

“Colin!” The second youngest, Gregory shouted and everyone turned to see their brother, quickly riding up and dressed quite peculiarly. 

Violet audibly gasped when she saw what her third born son was wearing. 

“Colin, what are you doing returned already?” Benedict asked as Colin dismounted onto the street where they were all preparing to leave. 

Colin ignored the question as he hugged each of his siblings in turn.

“And what on Earth are you wearing?” Anthony demanded, pulling a face at what he could only describe as rags. 

“I think he looks dashing!” Francesca complimented, always the most kind hearted of all of Colin’s siblings. 

“Thank you, Fran, I thought so as well.” Colin chuckled as he embraced his mother who discreetly brushed any dirt off that had transferred on to her. “I was set to board for my next port when I had the sudden urge to turn around for London. I had a feeling that I could not miss the season.” He explained jovially. 

“Well you have certainly made it just in time.” Kate commented.

“Not in time!” Anthony barked in disagreement, “we are already late and brother, forgive me, but you look at though you have been conquering the seas, not simply traveling across them. Go inside and change at once. Family! Into the carriages.”

Colin waved farewell but as they scurried to and fro to organize themselves he was distracted by a bright green carriage rolling to a stop across the square. 

His stomach flipped. 

A glimpse of red curls and a bright green coloured dress caught his eye. She was exactly the same as he remembered her. 

He stepped forward a bit to get a better look. Trying to see if there was any ailment visible that might explain her sudden lack of correspondence. For a moment, she seemed to turn towards him. He smiled in anticipation but before she could face him she had turned her back to him and disappeared into the Featherington home.

The heart inside Penelope’s chest thundered like Apollo’s chariot pulled by fiery horses. 

What was he doing returned to Mayfair? 

Someone really should inform him that a grand tour takes most gentlemen one year at least. 

It mattered not, even if he had seen her in her terribly bright recycled dress upon which Mrs. Varley had stitched a rather large row of flowers. She had vowed to forget him and all Bridgertons. 

After all her tears the only words Eloise would say to her was a short letter that had read: 

P.

I have decided I will keep your secret. But know this, if you write one thing about me or my family ever again, I will not hesitate to tell everyone who you really are. There is no need to reply, I need no understanding from you, only your compliance.

E.

That, combined with the echo of Colin’s laugh as he publicly scoffed at the idea of courting her meant she could not spare a second on any of them. 

Instead of looking toward where she knew he watched her she focused one foot in front of the other. She was late for Madame Delacroix. 

The Bridgerton household was in turmoil after the presentation of debutants to the Queen.

“How could no one be named diamond again?” Hyacinth demanded.

“It matters not.” Kate assured Francesca. “My sister Edwina was not named diamond until the Queen’s ball, there may well be another chance.” 

“Does it really matter if I am not named the diamond?” Francesca asked.

“Being the diamond will attract you the most suitors.” Anthony explained. “From there we can secure you the best match. It is integral that this season go on without incident. Our family has taken every scandal we can handle. A good match without the need for a special license will not only secure you a happy life but it will show anyone who cares to notice that Kate is the very best Viscountess this family could ask for.” He finished his sentence with an endearing smile toward said Viscountess.

“Speaking of matches!” Violet started as Colin entered the drawing room, washed and now dressed in the manner society most approved of. “We were discussing, Colin, your sudden return. You would tell us if there was perhaps a certain someone you cut your travels short for?” Their mother prodded.

Colin pulled a face of confusion and reached for a plate of sandwiches. “Whatever do you mean?” 

“She wishes to know if you are looking to marry again, brother.” Benedict supplied. 

“Might I remind you all that I was never married, I was only engaged…for the briefest of moments.” 

“He is evading the question.” Fran smiled. 

“I do not evade, it simply does not warrant an answer. Can a gentleman not simply return to see his family and friends?” 

“Are these friends you speak of in the room with us now?” Benedict jested.

“Ha ha.” Colin shot back with minimal humor. “I have many friends, but I must admit the one I was most concerned with seeing was…Penelope.” 

Several reactions burst forth. Both Anthony and Benedict sighed and rolled their eyes. Eloise stormed away in a huff at the mention of her estranged friend and Violet raised her eyebrows clearly none the wiser of her third son’s latest obsession. 

“Colin, for the last time, just as we have told you over again, the Featheringtons seem to be doing very well for themselves despite their unfortunate circumstances. I am sure Lady Featherington appreciated you unveiling that scoundrel’s plot and I am certain she would understand if you remove yourself from the situation now.” Anthony lectured.

“I feel it is my duty to see that I did not leave them in a worse situation than they were in before their cousin arrived.” Colin insisted stubbornly, adding in, “And as Pen would not return my letters-“

“You have been writing to Penelope Featherington?” Violet asked in surprise. 

“Yes they are quite the pen pals I hear.” Benedict muttered.

“Penelope is my friend.” Colin defended. “And whilst I have been writing to her she has not written back as she has done previously-“

“You have written to her previously?” Violet asked, a look of surprise on her face.

Colin carried on as though he had not noticed his mother’s concern “-I have begun to worry that things may not be as calm for them as they appear on the outside. She has always replied to every one of my letters and yet I have failed to hear from her.” 

“Have you ever stopped to consider that there might be another explanation for why she did not write to you, brother?” Benedict asked with a sigh.

“Whatever do you mean?” 

“Well it is improper. She is a young Lady of marriageable age.”

Colin scoffed. “Penelope does not wish to be married.” 

Everyone looked at him in stunned silence.

Slowly, Anthony spoke. “Colin, Penelope Featherington has been on the marriage-mart two, going on three years. I assure you she wishes to be married. Now more than ever, if her family is suffering financially.” 

“I suspect Lady Featherington is particularly anxious to secure both of her daughters' matches.” Kate added on. 

Colin blinked at them, “I always assumed that Penelope shared Eloise’s sentiments on marriage…”

From the corner of the room their sister had retreated to, an angry noise emitted.

“It is best not to talk about this topic anymore.” Violet insisted. “Let us hear Kate’s plan for Lady Danbury’s ball.” 

“I am glad there are no hard feelings now that you and I are no longer able to work together.” Madame Delacroix whispered as she pinned yet another dress to Penelope’s body.

“I understand completely. I appreciated your help whilst I had it, but it is best I keep my operation as secret as possible. I have already arranged with my new publisher how I might deliver my...work, discreetly.”

“I am glad, I find your work very entertaining indeed.” Genevieve smiled as she revealed even more of Penelope’s waist by pulling in the fabric.

“Are these styles not making me appear too…womanly?” 

“You are a woman, no? And when you wrote to me to design your new wardrobe you said you wished to be married as soon as possible and who do gentlemen want to marry, if not a woman?” 

Penelope had to agree. 

She left the modiste with yet another collection of gowns set to be delivered. She already wore one of her new day dresses, seafoam green embroidered with black vines.

All morning she had experimented with her new look. No more did she have to suffer Mrs. Varley’s severe curling method. 

Her mother had hired her a new lady’s maid, Jane, and together they had managed a looser curl and experimented with darkening Pen’s lip and lashes with paints and burnt cloves. She felt less like a woman and more like a mess but at least she was trying. 

Leaving the modiste, she had not stepped more than two paces with Jane when she heard a voice call out, 

“Pen!” 

Her stomach dropped.

“Quickly we must keep walking.” Penelope whispered, hurrying Jane along. 

“Pen!” 

“I believe that gentleman is calling out to you?” Jane said, stopping them. Penelope pulled her all the more harder. “He most certainly is but we are not talking to him.” 

“Why not?” Jane pushed. “Has he done something to insult you?” 

“No, he has not done anything to me,” Penelope grit, “I simply do not wish to speak to him.” 

“Oh dear, he is running.” Jane whispered, stopping again.

“What!” Penelope squeaked and turned to see just in time that Colin Bridgerton was indeed running towards them. She wanted to sink into the ground and never arise again. 

Colin reached them out of breath. He stood a moment, looking at her, not saying anything.

He had certainly changed, he seemed taller, somehow broader, more tan and apparently with more swagger and confidence than ever. 

“Mister Bridgerton.” Penelope greeted, sinking into a small curtsey. She was cognisant of the many eyes on them, attention caught from the spectacle of a gentleman running haphazardly down the street. 

Colin cleared his throat, cheeks blooming red as he too noticed the staring. “My apologies, I was worried you did not hear me.” 

“I am afraid I did not.” Penelope lied, holding tightly to Jane’s arm. “And I am also afraid that we have got to go, good day.” 

She began to quickly walk away but Colin caught her.

“I was hoping you might walk with me to the markets?” He asked. 

Penelope looked around for a means of escape, seeing none she decided to feign an illness and tell him she was headed home. “I-”

“What a happy coincidence! Miss Penelope was headed to the markets to select a new quill, were you not Miss?” 

Penelope shot Jane a withering  look. 

Colin beamed, “then we shall walk together.”

Penelope tried to ignore the avalanche of emotions she was hurriedly being buried under as she fixed her eyes on the path ahead.

The last time she had seen Colin Bridgerton up close had been their dance at her family’s ball, when she had actually been foolish enough to let herself believe…well she had promised herself never to think about it again and certainly never to speak about it. 

She should thank him, really, for curing her of her ridiculous obsession with romance. 

Colin broke the silence, “My brothers have informed me that your family have been doing well despite…everything.”

Brothers. So he had to know that she and Eloise were no longer speaking. 

“Yes, we have been fortunate, some distant relatives took pity and are sponsoring us this season.” She said, coolly. 

It was not true, in actuality Portia had planned on supporting Prudence alone this season and so Penelope herself had fabricated the concerned distant relatives as a way to send herself an allowance and ward off any questions about her new wardrobe and moderate dowry. 

Colin fell into silence as they approached the colorful stalls. Penelope told herself it was good and she should stay cross with him, try in earnest to keep him at arm's length, but something about being with him felt so natural.

“I take it that, this will be the season you will wish to marry?” 

Her stomach dropped. She could not very well tell him that she had wished to marry every season she had been out.

She lifted her chin and walked on to the next stall. “I have decided that it is time to find a husband.” She confirmed, stopping at a row of feathers and considering the options before her. “If not for independence, then to finally get away from my sister and mother and the hideous sense of style they insist on forcing me into.” 

She plucked a pale blue feather from the display and handed it to the clerk. 

“Penelope! I forgot you could give out such barbs.” Colin smiled, lowering his voice.

Penelope looked up at him. She could not help but smile back. It was not often she forgot to hide her more thorny retorts and it was refreshing to have her wit positively received. 

It was a moment before she remembered herself and looked away.

The clerk returned her purchase neatly wrapped. She turned to Colin to make her excuse and go. 

“Pen, I mean to stay true to the promise I made to you last season, I do wish to look after you.”

Anger licked through Pen and she stepped away from him. A traitorous part of herself wanted to tell him he had already broken said promise to look after her when he disparaged and laughed at her with the gentlemen of the ton. Even now, his gaze on her only conveyed condescending worry. Was this how he truly saw her? Someone to pity? 

It was one thing that he would never court her, that he would flirt and even propose to others in front of her. That he would never see her as a woman. But it was exponentially all the more painful when he insisted on reminding her of the facts of their inequality every chance he had. 

She breathed in to control the rage simmering beneath her skin remembering her vow to stay indifferent to him. “If you truly wish to help me as you say you do then might I suggest you occupy yourself with other things and leave me to handle the marriage mart on my own.” 

“Pen…I do not get your meaning.” 

“What I mean to say is, Colin, I am neither your daughter nor your sister and so there is nothing proper about you treating me as such. If I wish to be taken seriously as a marriage prospect I cannot be seen…wasting time...with you.”

Colin looked as though she had reached out and slapped him.

“Is this truly how you feel?” 

Penelope stood up straighter. “It is. Now, if you will excuse me, I must return home at once.”

Dearest Gentle Reader,

It is often said that pride comes before the fall and how far the members of our beau monde have fallen. Many have been overheard bemoaning their lesser fortunes in the absence of one Jack Featherington. The exiled Lord in question has been rumored to be squandering his pilfered wealth far out of the reach of better society. 

Some, like the Cowper’s have been fortunate to move in with kind hearted relatives by way of Lady Stowell and her newly presented daughter Rosemund.

As for everyone without such luck. No doubt they are hoping that they might regain their fortune by acquiring one very sought after diamond. For surely if their daughter sparkles brightly enough, one very wealthy Scottish Earl might take notice.

Lady Danbury’s ball, despite Danbury House being perfectly reasonable and large, was to be held on the Earl of Macclesfield’s estate, a distance from Mayfair. 

Something about the theme of the night (royalty?) meant that everyone was donned in various shades of purple. 

Colin had not truly listened as it was explained to him. 

He had quickly been dressed into his plum coloured waistcoat and raced downstairs to wait for everyone else.

He had ruminated upon Pen’s rejection of his offer to help her and decided to reject her rejection. He did not yet know how to explain it but he just knew there was nothing improper about their spending time together. There could not be. And he planned on convincing her of that this very night. 

Of course, Anthony and Kate could not have been more focused on their so called “strategy” for introducing Francesca to some Earl or Duke.

“Eloise, we really must ask you to stay in the back. Mother will accompany you.” Anthony's voice instructed loudly as the first group of Bridgertons came down the stairs.

“We only do not wish to remind her majesty of the small scandal that arose last season, of any scandal really. Instead, we need to reassure her swiftly that the Viscount and I are a true love match and she was right in supporting us.” Kate explained.

Eloise scoffed. “The two of you should have no trouble with that, the walls are awfully thin you know.” 

Anthony shot his head around toward his wife. “I told you we should have arranged for other accommodations.” He grit out.

“And I told you, not until all your sisters are married, I shall need your mother’s help and guidance.” 

All four (for Fran was silently following them) stopped at the foot of the stairs and stared at Colin who was giving the impression of someone tapping their foot with impatience. 

“Have you been waiting long?” Anthony asked with incredulity. 

“Yes, I have important business to attend to tonight.” Colin answered with as much dignity as he could muster. 

“Ah, you do, do you?” Anthony asked with a thick layer of sarcasm in his voice. “Well you will have to wait all the more for our mother and Benedict. It is part of the strategy that we present a united front so we shall be leaving and arriving all together.” 

Colin suppressed a sigh of frustration and stomped off to see if he could find a biscuit or two lying around. 

Tonight was the night. Everything for Penelope was falling into place. She had already put on her soft lavender gown in the new style Madame Delacroix had designed for her. Jane had helped place her hair into looser curls and together they had experimented with patting paints onto her face to what she hoped was a mature and alluring effect. 

Coming down, Prudence had asked where she had found such a dull looking gown and what on earth was smeared on her eyelids. 

Portia had simply looked at Penelope and sighed.

Penelope would be lying if she said her confidence was not a little shaken. 

They arrived together unfashionably early and Portia instructed both her girls sharply not to go wandering off. Penelope knew very well that staying with her mother and her sister would garner her no introductions. After all, Portia had made it abundantly clear during the off-season that she expected Penelope to age into a spinster and her caretaker. 

Looking around the grand ballroom that opened into a beflowered courtyard, she scrambled to think how she could possibly secure a dance. 

“May I go and get a lemonade, Mama?” She asked, hoping her feigned childishness would endear her enough to be allowed to disappear. 

“Very well, Penelope, just be quick.” Portia commanded. 

Penelope did go by the lemonade but without collecting a glass she continued into the courtyard. 

Uncertain, she stepped into the newness of the night. Her heart beat fiercely at how alone she felt. All around her lords and ladies were congregated like sparrows. 

In front her were the backs of a group of gentlemen. She knew she could not approach them directly, but she thought if she came close enough, one of them might take notice of her. 

A high pitched laugh sounded by a canopy of lilacs and Penelope looked over. She knew the sounds of Cressida Cowper and at once felt she should return inside. 

“I say, is that Penelope Featherington?” A voice asked. 

Penelope felt like a small animal cornered as the group of gentlemen she had been approaching turned to her. The voice belonged to Lord Stanley. She thought quickly for an excuse. 

“You look remarkably…different tonight Miss Featherington.” Lord Fife smiled, stepping toward her. 

Penelope stepped backward. A sharp look crossed Lord Fife’s face. “You know, Miss Featherington, there are a lot of young ladies at this ball here tonight, I have a mind to ask one of them to dance. Have you yet had your dance card signed?” 

Penelope realized she could not leave this conversation without stirring a scandal. “Not yet, my Lord.” She replied, smiling tight. 

“When I saw you approaching, I thought you were going to ask me to join you.” Fife laughed.

Some people behind the Lord snickered. “Are you not going to ask me to dance?” 

“Certainly not.” Penelope said quickly. 

Fife’s face darkened. “Why not?” He demanded. 

“Because you are not wearing your dance card.” She retorted. 

This time when the gentlemen laughed she could tell it was directed at Lord Fife and not at her. 

“I shall dance with the girl.” A laughing voice spoke from the group. A young man with strong eyebrows stepped forward. 

“You, Cutbill?” Lord Cho asked. 

“I do not mind a dance partner who has a quick wit.” The young Cutbill stated. “We do not all prefer the ninnies like you, Fife.” 

The young man held his gloved hand out to Penelope and she gladly let him take her away. 

Colin could have kicked a hole through the carriage floor with all the tapping he was doing. So many things delayed their departure that he was sure they would be the last family to the ball. He, of course, was stuck with Benedict and Eloise whilst his mother and Francesca rode with Kate and Anthony to discuss the strategy . None of them wanted to talk about anything he was interested in. 

As it turned out, they were not the last to arrive as a long stretch of carriages stood before them and even more were pulling up behind as Colin stuck his head out the window. He could scream. 

“Something the matter, brother? You are not actually eager to get married this season, I hope?” Benedict said in jest. 

Colin did not hold back his scowl.

“No he has been frightened off from matrimony after how well his last engagement went.” Eloise jabbed with a grin. 

“At least I have tried my hand at love, unlike either of you!” Colin defended. 

Eloise scoffed, “shows what you know, Benedict had quite the love affair with Genevieve Delacroix the modiste, did you not?” 

Benedict winced, “I would not exactly call that love.”

Colin rolled his eyes.

Benedict shook his finger at his younger brother, “and I suppose you had no affairs yourself whilst gadding about overseas!” He shouted with accusation.

“I will have you know I remained a perfect gentleman to all I met overseas and I will thank you not to say any more in front of our sister.” Colin huffed. 

“Oh please” Eloise drawled, "do not stop because of me, it is time someone told me the truth of the world.” 

“Well it will not be us.” Benedict grinned at her. 

What seemed like centuries later, they drew to a stop. Colin was first to step out, the last of the light had faded overhead and the building before them was alight, columns draped in violets and lilacs. Already, people in mulberry, lavender and mauve floated into the grand building, a warm buzz of music escaping through the many windows and into the cool night air. 

It took a while for them all to form Anthony’s “United front”, then to ramble inside and stand before their host. The whole time Colin was dragging his eyes over the crowds trying to spot a flash of yellow.

He thought he had spotted her when he saw a reddish-orange gown but it was just one of her older sisters. Where was Pen? Had she remained at home? 

“Who are you looking for?” Benedict hissed as Colin narrowed his eyes at a red headed young lady in a green dress across the way. 

“Penelope.” Colin supplied as though it were obvious. 

“Well if it is Miss Penelope Featherington you are looking for, brother, you’ve looked past her several times!” 

Colin narrowed his eyes at the red headed girl in green again, he was sure that was not her. 

“Not over by the lemonade.” Benedict sighed, “over there, dancing.” 

Colin’s eyes drifted back to the floor. No one was wearing yellow, nor green, nor pink… 

She was wearing lilac. She was clearer now.

She was talking and smiling. And she was dancing. Dancing with who? Collin assessed the young fellow. Some fledgling returned from Oxford, no one of note. He must have asked Penelope to dance and she would have been too polite to refuse him, poor chap. 

Colin would wait until they were done and then offer Penelope a swift rescue indeed. 

As hard as she tried Penelope could not for the life of her maintain conversation with the young Lord Cutbill. 

It had begun well enough, him talking about Oxford where he studied the classics, that was until Penelope corrected his Latin and he had grown quite sour. Then she had stood on his toe and he had practically scowled at her. After that she was too frightened to ask any more questions and possibly make matters worse. 

As their dance ended, Cutbill dropped her hands and stomped away. 

Penelope fought back tears. So much for more Lords wanting to dance with her now. Could the night possibly get any worse?

“Penelope! Pen!” 

Penelope again had the strong desire to sink into the ground as Colin Bridgerton came towards her. She tried walking away but fearing he might try to run at her again she instead sank into a curtsey. She could not speak and her heart still thudded despite herself. 

The crowd that Cutbill had disappeared into stood only a few paces away. All she could do was maintain polite conversation with Colin in the hope that she would not embarrass herself any further. 

“Mister Bridgerton…are you enjoying your evening?”

Colin’s smile faded. “What?”

“Are you enjoying your evening?”She repeated louder.

A wave of giggles echoed from where Lord Cutbill spoke with other ton members who glanced toward her. 

“I saw you just came from the dance floor.” He told her. 

“I take it you enjoyed your grand tour?” She asked, trying desperately to change the subject from her failed attempt at dancing. 

“Pen…did you not receive any of my letters?” 

Another eruption of giggles had Penelope looking at the throng behind them. Cressida Cowper, who had been enraptured by Lord Cutbill’s story of their awful dance, was now broken away from the crowd and coming towards them arm-in-arm with Abigail Evans. 

Penelope turned back to Colin. She needed to make an excuse and flee. 

“Pen? I have been hoping that you have given what I said to you yesterday more thought…” he reached for her hand but she flinched away. 

Cressida’s shrill tones echoed over them: “Did you hear how she tried dancing with Lord Cutbill? Someone should have warned the fellow why no one ever dances with her on the chance she trods on their toes. It just simply is not healthful for a girl our age to weigh so much…” 

Cressida had said it loudly and pointed right at her. She felt as though she’d been stabbed in the gut. 

“Shall we dance?” Colin asked as though Penelope had not just been egregiously insulted right in front of him. 

“No!” Penelope practically shouted.

Colin gaped in surprise. 

“Only, I must leave at once, I am afraid I do not feel well and-“ 

“ALL STAND FOR HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN!” 

The ballroom hushed as their monarch made herself known and stood before them, piercing them all with her regal stare. 

Penelope could not make her escape now.

“Many of you would surely like to know which newly minted Lady shall be named this season’s incomparable?” The Queen asked sharply. 

Colin turned his head toward Fran who was standing hand in hand with Violet Bridgerton.

“Indeed, it is a fine crop we have this year, so many accomplished young debutants to choose from! How is one to choose?” She paused for effect as the whole crowd stood enraptured with her. “In fact, I have done more than choose. I have gone beyond and found something much rarer than a diamond. For one Lady stands out above all the rest, she is eloquent and popular, indeed she has already made a name for herself amongst you all…”

Penelope’s stomach dropped. This could not be…

“Yes. It is my belief that it is time for this Lady to finally step out of the shadows and into the light. The incomparable of this season, ladies and gentlemen shall be none other than your beloved Lady Whistledown!”

Many in the ballroom gasped. Penelope swore she even heard the soft thud of someone feigning a swoon. 

“What? No round of applause? Will our author not come forward to receive such a compliment with a curtsy? Very well! If Lady Whistledown will not come forward to accept her title then I shall have to take drastic measures…”

Penelope glanced around, everyone was looking at the Queen in various expressions of shock, except Lady Danbury who for some reason looked as though she was staring daggers.

“…whoever can bring my most precious gem to me shall receive a reward of..one…no…ten thousand pounds, to whomever can bring me Lady Whistledown!” 

There was a collective gasp as the Queen turned to leave with her entourage trailing behind. 

“My word, Pen, you do look unwell. Let me escort you to your family’s carriage, you look as though you might faint.” 

Penelope could not think as quickly as she needed to. She knew enough now of the Queen’s workings to be aware that there would be palace eyes on everyone, watching how they reacted.

“I need a moment outside, Colin.” She said, harsher than she meant to.

She walked toward the terrace and found herself in a populated courtyard before she knew it. The cold night air and wafts of fragrant florals turned her stomach even more as she stumbled toward the gardens.

Just as she thought she was alone and could let her panic dominate her thoughts there was that voice again. 

“Pen?”

“Colin!” She snapped, “why on Earth would you follow me out here?” 

“I-“ 

“Return inside at once!” 

He looked like a boy chastised by his favorite nursemaid. 

“I did not mean to yell. Only, I am unwell and wish to be alone.” 

“I could wait outside the path for you, when you are feeling better I could escort-“

“Colin, I do not want you to escort me back inside!” 

“Penelope? Where is this coming from?” 

Penelope was trying so hard, she could cry. Trying so hard to pretend she was not hurt by him and could take his almost wilful ability to not see her as a marriageable young Lady, on the chin. 

“I am mature now Colin, or at the very least I am trying to be, I cannot have my childhood friend escorting me places alone when I am trying…trying to secure a marriage. And I have already made enough of a fool of myself on the dance floor tonight, I do not need to be caught alone in the gardens, unchaperoned I might add, with you!” 

There were so many more things she could add, she could unleash a barrage upon him about besmirching what little reputation she had left during his jest with Fife last season. 

She could lecture him about the ways in which hand holding and declarations of protection might  instill some impressionable young women with hope. 

But as much as she was seething with anger, she could not tell him the reasons why she hated him so much at that very moment. 

“I am sorry Pen, but I cannot leave you alone out here for the very reason that you are unchaperoned and I, as a gentleman, must see you inside safely. I can see you are upset but surely nothing happened on the dance floor  that was altogether that bad.” 

Oh how he made her blood boil! What it would be like to live in the simple, uncomplicated world of Colin Bridgerton.

She closed her eyes. “If by not altogether bad you refer to when I insulted the man and trod on his feet. Or that after he stormed quickly away from me he disparaged me to anyone who could listen, spurring Cressida Cowper to walk past us both and make rather loud comments about my weight? Then no, I suppose it was not altogether very bad at all.”

Colin’s face hardened. “I have never liked Miss Cowper. In fact I have often thought her one of the biggest bitches in London.”

Penelope could not help but gasp.

“And in terms of insulting the man, I am sure nothing you said could have hurt him irreparably?”

Penelope collected herself. “Lord Cutbill studied the Classics at Oxford. Whilst we danced we spoke about Latin and well…”

Colin waited for her to finish. 

“He was explaining to me how to best read Latin and I attempted to correct him and I must have made some error in doing so and insulted his knowledge for he became quite distant after that.” 

“Penelope, I very much doubt you insulted the man by making an error, only that you corrected a man who was trying to impress the young lady he had asked to the dance floor, only to find himself the fool when she knew more than him.” 

“Oh.”

“Do you really wish to find a husband this season, Pen?” He asked her. 

“Yes, I do.” She confirmed warily. 

“Let me offer you a proposal!” 

She inwardly sighed, the man really could not hear himself. 

“I mean to say, let me help you!”

“How are you able to help me?” 

“I have been a bad friend, Penelope. I promised to protect you but I left on my second grand tour when you found yourself most in need, and instead of troubling myself over what you must be going through I sent you letter after letter of my vapid travels. You want to find a husband but you have no one to make introductions for you, no one to tell you which gentlemen are good and which are better to steer clear of.”

“Colin, I really do not think that this is a good idea.”

“Please Pen, allow me to live up to my promise to help you with this. You need me, there is a certain way the young ladies talk to gentlemen when they wish to be courted. I do not mean to offend you but I do not think you have much experience in-“

“-yes, I get your point, and you are right. I do not know how to talk to anyone it seems.” She looked down at her feet, thinking about the last words she said to El. 

“So you will allow me to help you?”

The idea was terrible. The last thing she needed was Colin Bridgerton in her periphery whilst she tried to secure a match for herself. But it was not as though anyone else was offering to help. 

“Yes, I accept your offer.” She told him. 

She instantly regretted it as his handsome features split into a heart aching grin. 

“Colin, I believe I am ready to leave now.” She said, the courtyard around them was rapidly emptying, people rushing to return home after the Queen’s announcement, "Will you escort me to my carriage?” She asked.

“I would be delighted to.” He returned, taking her arm. 

Chapter Text

What is rarer than a diamond, dear reader?

It is certainly not an emerald as many of you have been suggesting. For rare as they might be, there are many to be found in the trousseaus of polite society. Indeed, our most prolific Queen often sports a handful of them around her neck. No, there are plenty of emeralds in this world dear reader but there only ever will be one of me…

Penelope waited anxiously in a soft pink day dress. Today, her dreams of Colin Bridgerton calling on her would be answered in a sorry parody of her girlish fantasy. They were to promenade together and observe the actions of society’s more successful debutants so that  Penelope might copy them at society’s next great event.

Colin came and left again with Penelope and her lady’s maid without anyone noticing. 

“Which events do you plan on attending in the coming weeks?” Colin pressed as they approached the park. 

“I suppose the next I plan to attend shall be the Smythe Smith Musicale and after that, Lady Trowbridge’s ball.” She listed them as though she were in a business meeting. 

Colin pulled a face, “no two events could be less similar, it is really not a requirement to attend the musicale, you know.”

“Well it is for me.” Penelope huffed, refusing to join his witticism against the concert.

“Oh?” Colin asked curiously.

Penelope sighed. “Someone must occupy the front seats and it is better that whoever does so will not sneer. I always make it my prerogative to sit front and centre.”

“Surely the young Smythe Smith ladies are not unused to some laughter?” Colin tried again with his charming smile. 

Penelope deepened her scowl toward him. “Not everyone is impervious to the mockery committed against them.” She stated icily. 

Colin cleared his throat and looked around the park. “We are here now, shall we find someone to begin our espionage campaign against?” 

They approached a group standing near a tent. “Lady Patridge, perhaps?” Colin asked.

Penelope shook her head. “This is her second season, I would not call that successful.”

“Yes but it is only her second because she was forced to reject Lord Cho’s proposal.

Penelope nodded, “because of the incident with the scullery maid.” She recalled out loud.

Colin’s eyebrows shot up. 

“It was in Whistledown.” Penelope quickly explained, realizing too late that it was a lie and she had heard that bit of information during her rather long hiatus from publishing. 

Colin took her answer without question and ushered her closer to the group. “Pretend we are talking.” He instructed. 

“We are talking.” Penelope pointed out, causing Colin to shake his head at her. 

“Discreetly as you can, watch how Miss Patridge uses her fan.” 

Penelope rolled her eyes, she already knew that one could use a fan to draw attention to one’s bosom. 

“I have noticed young ladies will use their fan to distract, should one need to hide an unbecoming expression or something they have spilled on their coat. They might hold up their fan to hide whatever they wish.”

Penelope watched as Cordelia Patridge hid a chortle of laughter behind her fan. 

“Now watch what Miss Evans is doing!”

Penelope discreetly glanced over her shoulder. Abigail Evans was standing with none other than Lord Cutbill by the edge of the water.

“See how she pretends to steady herself against him. In the art of flirting it is common to find innocent reasons to touch one another. The truly skilled person will also find creative reasons for removing their gloves before doing so.” 

Indeed, Lord Cutbill held Miss Evans’ lace gloves in the hand he was not using to steady her. 

“Let us continue walking.” Colin encouraged. “I wish to discuss with you the importance of complimenting a man.”

“Is this all not simply sport to these gentlemen?” Penelope asked as she looked behind them at Lord Cutbill who had now placed a hand on Miss Evans’ waist.

“Well, yes.” Colin admitted, taking her arm to lead her toward a new group. Penelope noticed with annoyance that he did not wear gloves and she tried to ignore the sparks dancing up to her shoulder and down her spine as their bare skin made contact. “But it is a sport for both involved. The idea is to make the sport so enjoyable that it eventuates in courting.” 

Penelope laughed, “you truly are a splendid teacher Colin.” She gushed in her most sultry voice.

Colin blushed, “why thank you, Pen.”

“I take it I have the complimenting portion under control then?” She asked, allowing her face to split into a smile. 

“Yes.” Colin frowned, “very well done.”

After his first lesson with Pen, Colin still felt remarkably unsettled.

She had been so cold and distant when he had arrived back to London, letters notwithstanding, and she still had not yet told him what was the matter.

Unable to go home after seeing her safely back to Featherington house he wandered aimlessly through Mayfair before finding himself in front of  Mondrich’s gentlemen's club.

William Mondrich had served as something of an idol in Colin’s boyhood. Ever the favorite amongst the Bridgerton boys, not just for his connection to the Duke, that was a happy coincidence, but for his powerful fighting style that left him almost always undefeated. 

Now, more than ever Colin thought he might have made a connection to the man he had always looked up to. Happy to have heeded his advice and encouraged his peers to patron the club. 

Inside, the club was thick with smoke and the sound of deep-voiced chatter. 

“There’s a face I did not think I would see so soon. Welcome back friend.” 

Colin grinned broadly at the owner who appeared before him holding a newly opened bottle of something expensive. 

“It seems as short as my trip was, you managed to make quite a name for your establishment, I have never seen a place quite so full.” 

“True, my drink and welcoming atmosphere has kept the crowds content. But if it had not been for you introducing your friends to the place, I do not think it would be so up and coming.” 

“Happy to have helped, it was the least I could do to repay your warning.” Colin smiled, as it truly had been the least he could have done for the retired boxer after he risked his reputation to oust Jack Featherington’s plan. “What say you to pouring me a glass of whatever you are holding?” Colin smiled, pulling up a chair.

“This is ratafia.” Mondrich replied, “but if you make yourself comfortable, I have some brandy under the counter I was just about to open.” 

Colin thanked the man and found himself settling in a red velvet armchair facing the fire. 

He had heard from Benedict that many a working-man frequented the place and was beginning to think of introducing himself to some of them. Hoping to discuss his newfound passion. When he heard his name mentioned from a clutter of men in the corner of the room. Colin sank into his chair to listen in.

“Why on Earth do you think Colin Bridgerton maintains that bizarre friendship with Penelope Featherington?” A vaguely familiar voice asked. Fife. “Just today I saw them promenading together.” 

“Perhaps he knows something we do not? Could she be fast?” 

“I would not blame him, she has certainly come into herself, I had a girl like her in Ireland. Not much to look at during the day but when the chit was undressed, well, a man could not ask for more.”

The men roared with disgusting laughter. Colin seethed. As much as he did not want to cause a scene in Mondrich’s establishment, he felt he had to say something.

“I very much doubt that she is.” An unexpected voice defended. When I was dancing with her she acted quite the innocent.”

Colin paused. As much as he hated what he was hearing it could prove useful for his goal to find Penelope a match. To see who was and who was not worthy of her attention.

“It was awfully funny Cutbill how you pretended to limp after she trod on you.” Fife’s voice drawled. 

“My foot was actually injured earlier in the night…”

“Here is your brandy.” Mondrich announced from in front of him.

Colin was shocked out of his concentration. Glancing over at the group of men he was glad to see they had not noticed him. He took the glass and beckoned Mondrich to sit down.

The other man did so slowly.

“I am afraid I have been eavesdropping and have overheard some things I wish I had not.” He explained softly.

“Who were the gossipers, I shall see them out at once.” Mondrich stated boldly.

“No. That will not be necessary. I only wished to talk to you and I do not want attention drawn to myself.”

“What is it you came to talk about?” Mondrich asked warily. 

“The business last year with Jack Featherington. I mentioned earlier how grateful I was that you warned me. It is only I remembered that when you did so you mentioned some dealings you had with the late Lord Featherington?”

To Colin’s surprise a look of shame fell over Mondrich’s features. “I had wondered when this would come back to me.” He said quietly, placing down the tray he had carried the glass on. 

“I take it this took place when you were still boxing?” 

Mondrich nodded. “The late Lord Featherington was a regular at matches, always eager to place a bet. It was easy to notice that his winnings never came often and he placed down more than he had.” 

Colin swallowed. “How long did this happen for?” 

“As the man arrived in London with his family some ten years ago, I would have to guess just as long as that.” 

“So how did he come to involve you in his gambling?” 

“I was looking for a way out of the ring. I am sorry to admit that I became desperate. I must have reeked of it because the man sought me out, convinced me to throw a match. I said no at first but he told me his whole sob story, how his coffers were empty, even his daughters’ dowries and he owed tenfold more than he could ever make in a year. Of course I asked him what he planned on putting down if he had no money to speak of and well…it turns my stomach to even think of it now.” 

Colin’s mind raced wildly. “What could he have put down?”

“The deed to his family home. I should have said no but in the moment I agreed and then I had to see it through. Then he wound up murdered and-“

“Wait? Murdered?” 

“Yes, I heard of his death soon after and I was able to confirm through some old connections. The men who did it are high up in that world. They did it to teach him a lesson and to send a message, I could easily have been in his place.” Mondrich’s voice had grown dark and quiet throughout his tale. Colin could tell the secret had been eating him alive.

Colin looked seriously at the face in front of him. It was well known that Mondrich was a hard working family man.

Internally, he fought away images of Pen and her mother and sisters being forced onto the street, penniless. He tried not to think of their tear stained faces at their father’s funeral.

“You were unable to know what they would do to him.” Colin reassured him. “What is done is done.” 

He made to get up to leave, his glass now empty beside him.

“Wait. There is one more thing.” 

Colin sat back down.

“When the debt collectors killed him, he had all his winnings on him and they took what was left. They left the family with nothing. After everything with the new Lord Featherington, I do not see how they have money left to afford anything at all.”

“Ah, that is easy, they have relatives sponsoring them.” As soon as Colin heard the words leave his mouth he knew their stupidity considering how deeply Mondrich had said the late Baron’s debt ran.

Mondrich seemed to share the sentiment as he caught Colin’s gaze. “That is an awful lot of kindness from distant relatives…”

True to his word, Colin let Penelope know that he would be attending the Smythe Smith musicale with her. 

She sat upon the window ledge in her bed chamber, awaiting and dreading his arrival. 

She looked nothing like herself. Though that was untrue. She no longer resembled the girl she used to be, the tightly stuffed, brightly clad and stiffly curled little girl her mother had molded. That little girl was gone. Before her in the looking glass now was every part the woman she had always wanted to be. And it worried her sick that it still would not be enough. 

That morning, a maid from the Bridgerton house had arrived carrying a case of luxury cosmetic items both bought and hand made. 

The maid herself was beautiful and clearly knew what she was doing. She had instructed Jane on the most modern ways to gently coat each liquid, paint and powder onto Penelope’s face, layering them to smooth her freckles and widen her eyes, flush her cheek and subtly deepen her lip. 

Then they worked on her hair, loosening and loosening it until it did not flow but cascaded down Penelope’s shoulder. 

“Mister Bridgerton is here for you now.” Jane announced, re-entering the room. “Shall I tell him you are coming down?” 

“Yes…tell him I shall be only a minute.”

She would need more than a minute to feel ready enough to see him.

The only thing that spurred her from her seated position was the idea that once she was married, she would never have to see or speak to Colin Bridgerton ever again.

Colin waited nervously by the Featherington staircase.

Penelope’s maid had assured him that her mother and sister never attended the Smythe Smith Musicale and so would be occupied at the modiste all afternoon. She revealed to him that Penelope used to attend with her father and so the previous year she had been allowed to go alone.

Colin did not understand why, but the thought of his friend unaccompanied in the dark music hall, an empty space beside her, caused an awful pain to form in his throat. It mattered not, however, for he was to ensure she would be accompanied tonight.

The lady’s maids, Jane and Sophie, came down first. Sophie being a new hire for Eloise, her previous girl going to Francesca. Colin had sent her earlier in the day to help Penelope style herself in whichever way she wished. 

Colin fidgeted nervously, the two women whispered to one another and glanced at him. He shifted in place. 

“She will be down soon, sir.” Jane explained. 

Colin looked up.

A pale blue skirt appeared from around the bannister and then…. her.

It was beyond what he had imagined.

Like Aphrodite, she was the union of seawater and heaven, emerged a woman, free from the marks of childhood and her mother’s influence. Pride swelled within him. He had helped her get here. He knew beneath the frills and shyness there was something spectacular waiting to emerge. He had seen her maturity and beauty within her writing. But he had not expected someone so stunning to be beneath the childhood friend exterior he had associated with Penelope Featherington.

He did not realise how wide his jaw hung or even that he had muttered an exclamation of surprise and wonderment.

Only at the maids’ soft giggles did he close his mouth.

Penelope did not play with her skirts in the girlish way he was used to as she descended the stairs. She stood straight, one delicate hand on the railing and the other simply by her side.

Her lips were full, her hair was long, the soft color of her dress reminded him of when waves met sands and the sun washed their joining into the palest of green-blues. 

He noticed she was not smiling as she reached him.

“Penelope, you look so different!” He exclaimed.

“It is a great improvement, I would presume?” She stated, her smile not quite meeting her eyes.

Colin shook his head. It was not an improvement. Her look before had been perfectly suited to her girlhood, he held great fondness for that Pen. This new look was simply…”not improved.” He insisted. “Only different.” 

Penelope frowned, looking down demurely and Colin did not understand what he had said wrong. 

He glanced at both Sophie and Jane who were casting almost worried expressions.

“I mean to say that you look remarkable Penelope, it is a shame the Queen did not name you her incomparable.” 

Penelope surprised him with a sudden burst of laughter. “Yes, a shame indeed.” She said, her smile finally meeting his eyes.

“Shall we?” He asked and held his arm out to her.

As they arrived in the Featherington carriage to the Smythe Smith estate, the halls already echoed with music. 

A skilled violinist Penelope supposed was an outside hire played an enchanting tune.

The night air was unseasonably warm and she was overcome with the feeling that the ground was somehow closer than it had been before, other people somehow larger, she felt both excited and in her cups, swimming with anticipation. Tonight, she could very well meet her husband. For the first time in her life she felt gentlemen might notice her. 

“I need a moment” she breathed, quickly stopping them before they could enter the crowded hall beyond the French doors.

“Is something the matter, Pen? Colin asked. 

“All is well, I just…” 

“You have nothing to be nervous of, Pen. I am certain that more than one gentleman shall want an introduction.” 

Penelope concentrated on controlling her breathing. “That is just it.” She whispered. “No gentleman has ever been introduced to me before.” 

She glanced at Colin who was giving her a curious expression, he leaned so close to her, had he been anyone else she would have wondered if this closeness preempted something more.

“I promised to protect you always, Pen, I will not let anything terrible happen to you tonight. You have my word. I shall be with you every step of the way, instilling you with confidence.”

Penelope forced a smile. She very much wanted to step away from where she could almost count Colin Bridgerton’s eyelashes and hear his breath. She tried not to breathe too deeply lest the woody scent of him remind her of what she vowed to forget. 

She allowed herself to move away, clearing her throat. “You are right, Colin, there is nothing to feel anxious for. Let us continue in.” 

She led the way inside. Almost on instinct she drifted toward the corners, looking at the gentlemen and scanning the crowd.

Within seconds she had them clocked. The young men, unserious about marriage, flocked to the most popular young ladies.

The older gentlemen who were in want of a wife hung back with the Mamas. Discussing business.

Most were old and miserly. More than a few were seriously harmed by her cousin’s schemes and best steered clear of.

Only a few in the Mama crowd stood out to her. 

There was Lord Dankworth, he was on the younger side but had no father and a younger sister to be married off. It was no secret he desired a Baroness.

Then there was Marcus Anderson, not a titled man but rich and accomplished indeed with close ties to Lady Danbury. It was said he was a nephew of sorts, a cousin’s son.

Beside him was someone new. He had to have arrived in the last few days, he was older with light hair. The Whistledown in her made it her mission to find out who he was by the end of the night. 

“We will do no good standing against the wall.” Colin complained. “I have already found someone for you.” Colin pointed out a kind-faced sandy haired man standing with some other gentlemen, talking to a group of young ladies. “That is Matthew Wilding, Lord Wilding now after his brother’s passing. An excellent chap, I know him well from Eton.” 

Penelope studied the man, he seemed awfully young. Still, she allowed Colin to guide her over. 

In front of her, Colin transformed, he stood taller, smiled wider, increased his step and raised his head:

“What are you all talking about?” He asked the group in a voice that was slightly louder and stronger than Penelope was used to. 

“Wilding was being obtuse.” A handsome black gentleman provided. “He believes that Whistledown must be one of the servants.”

“I am only repeating what Dankworth has been telling people!” The pleasant-faced Wilding defended. 

Penelope smiled at the other ladies among the group. Each smiled back at her. 

“Ah, you are discussing Lady Whistledown!” Colin exclaimed.

“You’ll be glad to know we are discussing how to unmask the fiend.” Yet another gentleman explained. 

“That’s right! She’s written awfully about your family in the past, though she writes nothing about them of late.” Wilding pointed out, “I had to hear through my cousin that you have another sister out this season. Is she here tonight?” Wilding peered around as though Colin might have  Francesca Bridgerton hidden behind some potted plants.

“No.” Colin replied icily. 

Just as he said it, the group seemed to notice Penelope. 

“Who is your friend?” Someone asked. 

Colin turned to her, “might I introduce Penelope Featherington!” He exclaimed enthusiastically. 

Penelope smiled and curtseyed as they each greeted her in turn.

“Featherington you say!” Wilding remarked. “I had no idea there was another of you, or are you a cousin?” 

“I am the youngest.” Penelope said, not wanting to explain that she had in fact been out for three seasons without any of them bothering to notice her. 

“Well, we are very pleased to make your acquaintance.” Wilding grinned, leaning in imperceptibly. “As long as you are not another cousin, we have had quite enough of them, eh Bridgerton?”

Penelope was sure now that she knew his type. Too young to want to be married but more than happy to accompany young ladies through unlocked doors to do all manner of things that would render a marriage proposal from a true gentleman. 

No, he was not suited for a courtship and she certainly would not follow him anywhere unchaperoned, but she could use him, to practice Collin’s tutelage of course, but also to dig out information for Whistledown. 

“You will be glad to hear, Wilding, that Miss Penelope Featherington is almost as great a Byron supporter as you are.” 

Wilding barked with laughter. “Bridgerton, I almost forgot!” He turned to Penelope, “At Eton there was a crackdown on his poetry, you see, too controversial, it made all the boys want to read it all the more.” 

“Ah.” Penelope smiled. “How rebellious of you.”

She was sure Colin had expected her to go into her own analysis of Lord Byron’s work, of which she was sure the pervertedness only reflected the poet’s own insecurities. 

Colin had vehemently agreed with and enjoyed such a viewpoint back when she wrote to him as much. 

Still, Penelope had learned from Cutbill that she was best to avoid intellectualising and to stick to complimenting gentlemen. 

Wilding grinned, “yes, I believe I am. Tell me Miss. Penelope, what are your thoughts on Lady Whistledown?” 

Penelope thought for a moment, “well, I like her.”

The gentlemen of the group chortled, “the ladies do all love her.” Lord Liebling smiled, Penelope noticed none of the ladies joining in.

“Do you know what I think?” Penelope asked before she could stop herself. “I think all of us are very lucky for Lady Whistledown indeed. If it were not for her and the Queen’s bounty, this season would be remarkably dull.” 

The group all laughed and echoed the sentiment. 

“It is incredibly dull!” Miss Stowell sighed as though she had been waiting all evening for someone to say it. 

“I take it you will be sitting with Bridgerton inside?” Wilding asked Penelope. 

She glanced at Colin and then shook her head. 

“Well then, if all is the same to you, Bridgerton, Miss Penelope, would you accompany me?”

“I would be delighted to.” Penelope smiled as she took the young man’s rather thin arm. 

They were the first of the group to break away. “If you do not mind, I should like to sit near the front.” Penelope told him.

“You know, there are two perfectly good seats in the back?” Wilding offered but Penelope shook her head. “As you wish.” The young Lord smiled. 

As they sat in front, other couples from their group followed and sat around them.

“I suppose you have never attended one of these musicals before?” Wilding guessed incorrectly, “let us just say they will be eviscerated by Whistledown later this week” 

“I do not believe I have read of her picking on the Smythe Smith girls before.” Penelope replied thoughtfully, because she certainly had not. 

“No she has not, indeed.” Cracked a strong voice.

Ladies and gentlemen hurried to move and shift as Lady Danbury came toward them. Swinging her cane.

“Miss Featherington. I see you are in your usual seat, I take it, this one is unoccupied?” She jabbed her cane at the newly empty seat on the side of Penelope Lord Wilding did not sit at.

“Of course, Lady Danbury.” Penelope gulped.

“I could not help but overhear you talking about Lady Whistledown.” The older woman remarked as she settled herself beside the pair. “I will have you know that I have that Lady Whistledown all figured out.” 

“You do?” Lord Wilding asked brightly. Penelope was starting to see the author was his favourite topic.

Danbury peered curiously at him. “She is soft at heart and she rarely gets personal.” She continued, “you see that one up there.” She pointed to a dour faced cellist. “She clearly has a clue how terrible they all are. Mark my words you will not see her written about in Lady Whistledown.” 

“An interesting theory.” Penelope spoke up. 

“Yes, it is, is it not?” Lady Danbury agreed as she somehow settled even further into her chair. 

“Who do you think Lady Whistledown is Lady Danbury?” Lord Wilding asked boldly.

“I will tell you this much young man.” Danbury said to him. “It will not be anyone obvious.” 

And then, just as the candles around the room began to be snuffed the old woman looked directly at Penelope. 

“It is nice when we discover we are not exactly who we thought we were?” Lady Danbury’s voice whispered so only Penelope could hear.

“Ah, Mister Bridgerton! There you are!” Lady Danbury crooned. 

Penelope had turned to face the small stage area but she whipped back to see Colin making his way along the row of seating behind them. Where had he been? He was now bestowing a charming smile upon anyone whose knees he bumped.

Eventually, he stopped behind Penelope and sat beside Miss. Cordelia Patridge, granting the young Lady a most lethal smile.

Something traitorous deep in Penelope’s stomach clenched. 

“Do you know what is on the program for the night?” She overheard him ask Miss. Patridge. 

In turn, the young lady melted into a dithering fit of giggles. It was disgusting.

“I believe it is Mozart, as usual.” Lady Danbury offered sharply, turning around in her seat.

“I am a great fan of Mozart!” Miss Patridge told Colin.

“In that case, prepare to be disappointed.” Lady Danbury told the girl.

Penelope stifled her laughter with the back of her hand.

“Is something the matter?” Lord Wilding asked.

Penelope had almost forgotten he was there.

“Not at all. Look, they are about to begin.” 

The agonizing music went on and on. The whole time the awareness of Colin sitting behind her prickled at her neck. 

The applause could not have come soon enough and quickly everyone was rushing to leave the room where three sisters sat beaming and a fourth was left frowning at her cello. 

“Lemonade?” Lord Wilding asked and Penelope nodded, watching him leave to the refreshments’ table. 

Her eye was caught again by the mysterious blond man talking to Mister Anderson. Lady Danbury was with them now.

As she stared, his eyes lifted and caught her looking. They were an oceanic blue. 

“How did it go?” Colin asked, coming up behind her and lightly touching her arm. Penelope deftly stepped away. 

“Wilding is too young to be thinking of marriage.” She told him. “I very much doubt he is looking for courtship.” 

“I disagree. I  came in late to ensure that I could watch the two of you and I saw him attempting to take your hand during the entire concert.” 

“He attempted no such thing!” 

Their argument swiftly died as Wilding returned with two lemonades and Miss Patridge beside him. 

Penelope suppressed a scowl.

She removed her gloves and took the glass offered to her, the night was still dreadfully hot so she thanked him ardently.

The condensation on the glass melted onto her fingers as she brought the sweet liquid to her lips. She sighed with relief. 

Unfortunately, she proved too enthusiastic and the tiniest amount of the drink spilled over the lip of the glass, splashing onto her chest.

“Oh!” She gasped, the coolness shocking her skin. 

Fortunately, Colin’s lessons were fresh in her mind and the idea came to her, distract, with her fan!

Swiftly she brought it out and delicately pat herself dry under its coverage. 

Then she fanned the area to help it dry completely.

When she looked up again both Colin and Wilding turned quickly away.

“So did you decide who Lady Whistledown is?” Miss Patridge asked cheerfully. 

“Yes? Did you?” Lady Danbury’s voice demanded from behind them as she once again joined their congregation.

The group remained silent and so the dowager’s unforgiving gaze fixed on Penelope.

“What say you, Miss Featherington?”

“If you truly want to know what I think, I believe Lady Whistledown could be you Lady Danbury.” 

Several people around her gasped and Penelope regretted the words instantly. 

“Oh please.” Lady Danbury supplied disdainfully. “Many have already suspected me and have found the accusation quite fruitless.”

“And it is for that very reason you are the one people least suspect.” Penelope smiled. “You are too obvious.”

Danbury paused a moment before letting out a roaring laugh. Those with them nervously joined in.

“I knew I liked you.” Danbury sniffed. “Come dine with me at Danbury House sometime soon. I would like to introduce you to my nephew Mister Anderson and his friend Lord Debling. Newly returned from his travels. He is a published writer, you know, something tells me you would appreciate his work.” 

With that, Lady Danbury thudded away toward a table upon which the Smythe Smith girls had stored their instruments. 

“Would you like to take a turn with me around the room?” Lord Wilding asked Penelope. Holding out his arm. 

“I think not…only, the hour is late and I promised I would be home as soon as the musicale ended.” 

The Lord lowered his arm dejectedly. 

“I am afraid I must be leaving as well.” Colin announced, earning a sorry look from Miss Patridge

Before they left Penelope turned to Wilding. “Thank you for your pleasant company. It was truly wonderful hearing all about your theories.” She said, remembering the importance of complimenting a man. 

Ever the gentleman, Colin had insisted on walking home the previous night, after the musicale. Something about Penelope’s words at the opening ball had sat with him and as they entered the dark night together he had the strange sense that riding alone with her in a carriage at night was indeed improper. 

He regretted the propriety now as he waited at his drawing room window. 

The room was full of suitors calling on Fran, being interrogated by the twin sentinels, Anthony and Kate. He was required to sit there for the entirety as part of their “united front”

With a start he sat up, seeing none other than Wilding exit a carriage and cross the street to the Featherington house. 

So he was calling on Penelope after all? All at once it was clear to Colin that the man was entirely unsuitable for Pen. She was right. He was too young. At least in temperament. He had not traveled, he did not know the world! Colin would have to warn him off.

Briefly, the room quietened as Anthony chased another young gentleman out.

Kate sighed loudly. “Has the Earl still not called?” She asked in exasperation.

“A line out the door and not an Earl among them.” Anthony lamented.

“I knew I had not left a worthy impression on him!” Fran cried, “he mentioned his appreciation of pianists and I could not help myself from rambling!” 

“But he was smiling at you throughout was he not?” Kate tried.

Anthony rubbed his face, “perhaps it was too much?” 

“Are gentlemen truly so fragile that a woman having a passion for something other than him is such a slight on her respectability?” Eloise piped up from where she was pouring over whatever she had been writing, pretending not to care about the proceedings happening in front of her.

Just then the door burst open revealing Gregory, “he is here! The Earl is here!”

“Are you sure?” Anthony asked, whipping around.

“Let him up!” Benedict proclaimed, finally putting down his paper.

“No!” Kate insisted.

“We do not wish to appear too eager!” Violet agreed. 

“Oh I feel ill.” Kate murmured.

“Again?” Anthony queried, turning to his wife.

Franny had stood up. “Suppose he wishes to hear me play now, I do not think I can.”

Colin eyed the doors, wondering if he could slip out unnoticed and let Penelope know of his plans to ward off Wilding. 

“Colin! Suppose you could accompany your sister if the Earl does wish to hear her play?” Violet asked and all his siblings turned to him.

“I-“

“Oh, please say yes!” Franny begged. “Your singing is so lovely, Colin.”

Colin sighed and agreed. Pen would have to wait.

Yellow.

Lord Wilding had brought her bright yellow roses. That was already enough to seal his fate but to make matters worse he spent the whole time in her drawing room talking about his Lady Whistledown theories and wanting Penelope’s opinions on them.

Not wanting word to get out that she was a dull courting partner she played the curious admirer. Complimenting Wilding on all his clever theories until he looked as though he would float from the room with happiness. 

Another added penalty of the young Lord’s visit was it had inflamed Prudence’s jealousy and she had decided to sit across from them making helpful suggestions to Wilding. Such as he might ask how often Penelope reads or sits in the sun by the window.

Penelope was relieved when it was all over. She had already half penned a letter to Lady Danbury, asking if that Thursday would prove a good time for her to visit.

She had managed to find, through her printer, some of Debling’s published work. He was more than a little interesting to say the least. 

Just as she was about to excuse herself upstairs in the absence of any more suitors, their silence was broken. 

“A Mister Bridgerton is here to see Miss Penelope.” Briarly, their new butler announced. 

Prudence let out a high pitched wail of frustration and slumped onto her seat.

“Someone should tell that young man that you have real suitors now and he should stop wasting your time.” Portia grumbled from where she was taking another pot of herbal tea for her migraines.

“As Mister Bridgerton is only here to waste my time Mama, might I take him to speak outside?” Penelope asked sweetly. 

“Yes, very well.” Portia agreed, shielding her eyes as she waved her youngest daughter away. 

The Earl had indeed wanted to hear Francesca play and Colin had been forced to jovially sing through two songs before escaping. 

Despite his hurry, Wilding’s coach had rounded the corner before he could flag down the man and tell him to leave Penelope Featherington alone. 

In the foyer he announced his intention to see Penelope, only instead of being shown to the drawing room, she came out to him. 

“Come with me.” She said, taking his hand and pulling him towards the back of the house. 

A strange thrill shot through Colin. Where was she taking him? 

“Mama said I may speak to you outside as you are not a suitor.” She explained, opening the doors to the terrace, “I thought this way we would not have Prudence listening in as we discuss our plans for the Trowbridge ball.” 

The Trowbridge ball? Of course. It was their next event. He hoped Wilding had not already secured her as a dance partner. 

“I did mean to discuss the ball with you-“

“-before you do. Colin, I must apologize but I do not believe I can continue with Wilding.” 

Colin smiled with relief. “I agree entirely.”

“He is too young.” She said, “Not to mention obsessed with finding Whistledown and…he brought me yellow roses!” 

“Yellow roses?”

“Yes, whilst roses themselves are not objectionable I absolutely despise yellow.” 

Colin laughed again, still high on his relief. “Really, I find myself impartial to the color. It brings one a feeling of happiness…”

He trailed off as Penelope pulled a face of abject disgust. 

“What flowers do you like?” He asked, suddenly curious. 

She sighed and turned her face towards the bright, sunlit sky, illuminating the freckles scattered across her bare skin. “It is not as though I have ever received any. Though if I was to choose the perfect bouquet I would imagine one full of pink dianthus.” 

“Ah, the flower of the gods.” Colin quipped, watching how fiery and orange her hair shone and wondering if it would be even brighter on the hot coasts of a Grecian Island. 

“Indeed, I always enjoyed the myth of Diana.” 

“I never knew you to be one to condone such violence, Pen.” 

“Be glad that I did not say that I preferred orchids.” Penelope shot back. 

Colin surprised both of them with a bark of laughter. “I shall pretend you do not comprehend what you just said.”

“Pretend all you like, Colin.” Penelope smiled sweetly. 

The heaviness of silence settled between them as Colin looked at her. He was questioning just how much she might have changed whilst he was away. 

“Praytell, what did you come here to speak with me about?” Penelope asked, looking away from him. 

“I wish to arrange with you another lesson in preparation for the Trowbridge ball.” 

There was no point telling her why he had really come. And he really did need to show her some things.

“And where shall this lesson take place?” Penelope asked. 

“Well…it shall involve dancing so I have been trying to think of somewhere we will not be…interrupted.” He glanced at the house behind them from which any servant or Featherington family member could emerge at any moment. 

Penelope bit her bottom lip. “Do you think the informal drawing room in your house will be empty tonight?”

“I believe so.” Colin said slowly. 

“And the door can still be locked? You could take the key from Mrs Wilson’s hook in the kitchens?” 

Colin looked at her with curiosity. How did she know all this? “I could.” He admitted. 

“I do not blame you for forgetting how often I used to frequent your home, Colin, after all your sister and I are no longer speaking. 

“Ah.” Colin exclaimed with realization. Eloise must have made her privy to all the ways the Bridgerton siblings could sneak about.

“And, I hope you realize that I have made my way into your house under the cover of night many times…to see…your sister.” She seemed unable to even say Eloise’s name. “I can confidently say I can make my way in and out unseen.” 

Something in Colin’s stomach flipped at this bit of information. 

She watched him expectantly.

“Yes…well I suppose I shall see you tonight then…in the informal drawing room.” 

“Tonight.” Penelope agreed. 

Penelope told Jane she was experiencing her courses and would like to undress herself. 

Instead of bathing and dressing for bed, she threw on a cloak, undid her hair and hid under the covers with only her face showing, until everyone had gone to bed. 

Lately, she had been taking her Whistledown drafts out of the house herself to her secret drop off place. She was more than adept at sneaking about. 

Hearing nothing but silence she slipped like a shadow through the halls and into the yard below. 

No hired hack waited for her outside the square tonight. Instead, she padded in her slippered feet across to the grand yard of the Bridgertons’. 

She could not guess why she needed dancing lessons from Colin. She knew all the dances perfectly well. However, his methods had secured her her first caller and so she decided she must trust him. 

Like a long forgotten memory she slid into the home she had grown up in, almost more so than her own. 

She weaved her way up the servant’s stairs and traversed the less traveled corridors to find the informal drawing room, nestled far from any bed chambers. 

Quietly, she stepped inside, securing the door behind her.

Colin had been here. Candles around the room were lit, the exact smell of dust and melting wax haunted her. How many nights had a young Penelope sat in here, sharing the glow of a candle with Eloise as they whispered and giggled about the strangeness of their world. 

It felt cold here alone. Somehow more lit and yet darker than she remembered. 

Penelope walked to the settee by the window. Unofficially, it had been her seat. 

Where she and Eloise were relocated when the room was in use. She still remembered when it had been crisp and blue, when her feet had barely reached the ground when she sat on it. There was no need for protective covers in the informal rooms. 

Curiously, a book of some sort lay open upon it. She could tell it was nothing published, the words inside having been written by a messy hand. A journal of some kind.

The sudden idea hit her that the journal was Eloise’s. 

Deciding against touching it lest Colin return and find her snooping, Penelope walked around the couch until the pages were the right way around. To her surprise and delight she made out her own name clearly: Penelope.

She read on. If only Penelope were here. Although I have not heard anything from her since leaving London, I am sure that she, more than anyone would appreciate…

The page ended. She could not read anymore. Was this what Eloise wrote about her when she was in the country? Had she perhaps sat at Aubrey Hall or Clyvedon and thought of Penelope and what she was doing? Could there possibly be a chance for reconciliation? Penelope reached out, ready to turn the page and find out when the soft sound of footsteps approaching alerted her.

Darting to the opposite side of the room she turned and pretended to be in the process of removing her cloak.

“Ah, you are here.” Colin’s voice sounded as the door was once again closed and locked.

“Only just arrived.” Penelope lied, folding her cloak and placing it down. “Apologies for the state of my hair, I had to pretend to be asleep.” 

Colin looked at her with a strange expression. “It is quite alright.” 

“Where were you?” She asked curiously, noticing him quickly shut the journal and carry it to a table across the room. 

“Ah, I would rather not say.” 

He sounded embarrassed. Using a chamber pot if she had to guess.

“I must warn you that I know all the dances exceptionally well, I doubt there is much you could teach me.” She said confidently.

Colin smiled and walked toward her with frustrating swagger. Her heart raced despite herself. 

He would never dream of courting you.

“That is precisely it Pen, you dance astonishingly well, too well in fact. Your technique and precision is beyond approach.” 

“And that is a problem?”

“Well it is when the goal is to attract a suitor.”

Penelope could not help but feel annoyed. “Am I to believe you are telling me if I am to dance poorly that this will capture someone’s attention?”

Colin chuckled. 

“Not at all. The goal is to forget the dancing completely. For most men and women of the ton dancing is the only time they might find themselves alone and unchaperoned.” 

“And so I should spend the time flirting instead of focusing on dancing well?” 

Colin smiled. “Precisely, only there is more to the flirtation of dancing than what one might say. There is also the…physical touch. It is an opportunity for amorous glances…the pressing of hands…romancing…”

“And so you want me to practice romancing you through dance?” Penelope asked incredulously.

It really sounded like the most dreadful idea. She did not know why this lesson could not have been told to her through a note and for her to practice with other gentlemen at the Trowbridge ball. 

“…yes but it is only practice. I do not mind offering myself up, as your friend.”

“What a truly good friend you are.” Penelope said, unable to hide the venom in her voice. 

She truly did not count to him. If she had been any other young woman, even their being alone together would be a completely ruinous act. And yet, she knew, for Colin Bridgerton, she could say or do almost anything ruinous and still he would consider himself a gentleman. 

“I know you are most likely innocent of such things but I must inform you that there is a nature to Lady Trowbridge’s soirées…they are…”

“Alarmingly provocative?” 

“…Quite. I suppose what I mean to say is, that it is well known among the gentlemen of the ton that her ball is one where young ladies are caught up in the atmosphere, and should they find a partner they like to dance with there is usually a…”

Colin appeared truly lost for words.

“I am well aware of the sensual undercurrent.” Penelope stated plainly. Innocent was she? If only he knew. 

“Right, well. Then, I suppose there is not much more to explain. Would you show me how you would approach your partner?”

She stood still, did he really expect her to approach him sensually. “I do not know how.” She admitted.

Colin’s confidence appeared to come back to him as he flashed her a charming smile. “Begin by smiling at your partner as you come toward him.” 

She had not thought to put on gloves before she came. Without her cloak, her hair in messy curls and in her mint green day dress she felt exposed. Still, she forced herself to follow his instructions, smiling as sweetly as she could and approaching him, looking upwards to maintain eye contact. 

“Very well done.” He complimented, taking her hands in his. 

They felt too close. She was aware of his chest moving with each breath as they began the tired steps of the dance. 

“Now do not be afraid to step closer than the way the dance is taught to us.” 

Dutifully, she came closer to him, remembering to smile as she looked up into his eyes. 

“Like this?” She asked him. 

“Very good, now as you dance, if your partner wishes you to have a good time, he might attempt to make a few jokes. Even if some do not land you should always offer a laugh.”

Penelope tilted back her head and let out a fake peel of laughter. Not too dissimilar to the many she had witnessed her cousin perform for him during their disastrous courtship. “Colin! You are too funny!” She exclaimed as though he had indeed made some great show of wit. 

“Yes, just like that.” Colin commended, though he did not smile. 

As they spun he rested his bare fingers on her shoulder, almost imperceptibly she felt his fingers brush the side of her neck. She gasped. 

“Apologies.” He said in a way that sounded like he did not mean it.

Following his cue she delicately brushed her fingers over his wrist before she took his hand again. “Apologies.” She echoed when she heard his inhale of breath. 

“I shall lift you now.”

She had not expected that. Panic gripped her. “No. Colin. I do not think that is a good idea. I-” Penelope yelped as she found herself lifted off her feet and into the air. 

In fright she grabbed onto the nearest thing, which happened to be Colin Bridgerton’s neck, bracing for the inevitable moment he found her too heavy and dropped her on the ground. 

It never came.

“Are you alright?” 

Slowly, she pulled back. 

His blue eyes shone black in the dim light of the room. She still clung to him like a vice. 

“I thought you would drop me.” She accused, breathless. She was sure she could feel the best of his heart through the fabric of her dress, though it might have been hers. 

“I am not going to drop you, Penelope.” He assured her in a calm murmur. “Neither would any good dancing partner.” 

Penelope stared at him incredulously. He held her with the ease one might hold a book they were reading. 

“Put me down.” She demanded. 

He did at once. 

“Thank you for everything Colin. I am sure your advice will prove invaluable. I really must be going. Good night.” 

“Pen-” 

She hurried to put on her cloak. 

“Is everything alright?”

Her heart pounded and her body still thrummed from having been held so tightly against him.

“Certainly. I am most grateful to you. Only it is late. I must go.”

She did not wait to hear any more as she fled the scene. 

If there is one thing this author recommends, gentle reader, it is to not allow oneself to be swept off one’s feet. 

Tonight, many of you might find yourselves tempted as Lady Trowbridge’s soiree often proves fit for any Epicurean. But remember that whilst lingering touches and tight embraces might be permitted on a dancefloor, such discrepancies prove quite ruinous if attempted in other locations… 

Once again Colin Bridgerton was later than he would have liked to have been. 

Anthony was once again enforcing the united front, having them all arrive and leave as one. 

He now knew better than to look for yellow as he scanned the crowds. He found her quickly, dressed in an alluring white and black-lace gown, a fashionable yet simple adornment around her neck. But for all her fashionableness she was wasting it hiding behind the refreshments. 

He excused himself and beelined for her. 

“I see you have given up looking for a husband. Unless some poor fellow has fallen into the lemonade bowl and you plan on fishing him out?” 

“Very funny, Colin.” She returned to him, without smiling. “I will have you know that I am avoiding Lord Wilding. He seems eager to sign my dance card and if I refuse him I will be unable to dance the rest of the night.” 

“Do not tell me the man repulses you so much you cannot spare a single dance?”

“No, it is only that I think it is cruel to dance with him and give him hope when I have no interest in pursuing him.”

There was a steel to her tone and Colin had to agree with her.

“In the sake of avoiding cruelty, let us find someone to introduce you to at once.”

Taking her hand he began leading her towards the crowds farthest from Wilding. 

“Could you take me over to Lady Danbury perhaps. She has promised to introduce me to her nephew Mister Anderson and his friend Lord Debling.”

Colin stopped. He would have thought both men much too old for Penelope who was not yet twenty. Though thinking on it now, his sister Daphne had been younger still when she had married the Duke who was of a similar age. 

“I am sure we could find someone more suitable.” He protested. 

“More suitable?”

“Someone closer to your age.”

“Men closer to my age do not want to get married.” 

“There, what about him? Lord Dankworth. I hear he is in want of a wife and he is much closer to your age.” 

Colin ignored Penelope’s sigh as they steered toward the Lord. 

“You cannot introduce us.” She protested as they approached. “You are not a Lord.”

“Then it is a good thing I already know the man from Mondrich’s, he is a good sort, I am sure you will like him.”

They came upon the unsuspecting Lord who was in some sort of discussion with another gentleman Colin did not recognise. 

It was the unknown gentleman who saw them first. “Penelope!” He cried out happily, raising his glass. 

Colin looked curiously between the two of them. Did they know each other?

“Good evening Mister Finch.” She said in greeting. “How are you enjoying your evening?”

“I must admit I am having a terrible time without Philippa. She is still abed unwell, you see. Luckily I have my good friend here to keep me company. Have you met Harry Dankworth?”

The man was handsome, Colin had to admit. Which he thought was somewhat important if they were looking for a match for Pen. 

“I do not believe we have met.” Dankworth insisted, smiling brightly. 

“Colin Bridgerton.” Colin provided, somewhat annoyed that he was not remembered. 

Suddenly, Dankworth seemed to brighten even more, if it were possible, as he took Penelope in. 

Colin was sure he did not like the man after all. 

“And you are?” Dankworth asked, still beaming an impossibly white smile at Penelope.

“Penelope Featherington.” She provided as she sunk into a curtsey. 

“What a coincidence!” The man exclaimed, turning to Finch. “Your wife was named Featherington, was she not?”

“Indeed.” Finch laughed. 

“We are, in fact, sisters.” Penelope explained, flashing a quick glance to Colin. “What brings you to London?” She asked the man politely. 

“You know I really am not sure. My father passed away you see and my aunt insisted I come to partake in the season. How funny!” 

“Funny indeed.” Penelope said amid weak laughter. “And how have you been finding…the season?”

“Tremendous! I never imagined I would run into Mister Finch here, we have been having a grand time.”

“Our fathers served together.” Finch explained. “I have known Harry here since we were boys.” 

“Albion used to help me get around my tutors.” Dankworth laughed. “I never took to reading you see and there would be three lashings if I did not finish the set amount, so he would read it all for me!” 

“Did your tutor not catch on?” Penelope asked. “When you could not recite any of what you were supposed to have read.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Dankworth asked. 

“Never mind.”

Again, she glanced at Colin and he found himself communicating silently with her that he agreed. Lord Dankworth certainly would not do. 

“Mr. Finch, have you yet introduced Lord Dankworth to my sister?” 

“Yes, in fact he had tea with Philippa and I just the other day.”

“No…not Philippa.” Penelope said slowly, “my other sister.”

“Who is this?” Lord Dankworth asked. 

“Prudence Featherington.” Penelope offered. 

“Another Featherington! My, there are a lot of you!” Dankworth smiled. 

“I believe she is with my Mama over by the stage.”

Colin looked over to where Penelope had indicated to see Lady Featherington fussing over the older girl’s orange dress. 

“I do believe I should like an introduction.” Dankworth stated, staring at them. 

“I believe you two have a lot in common.” Pen said. “Prudence often made me complete any work our governess set for her. Including the reading.” 

Colin held his breath to keep from laughing as both Finch and Dankworth excused themselves. 

“What am I to do now?” Penelope sounded distressed. “The first waltz of the night is about to begin and Lord Wilding is headed this way.” 

“There is an easy enough solution for that, you will dance with me.” Colin said, happily taking her to the dance floor. “Think of it as an extension of our lesson the other night.” 

“As long as you promise not to try lifting me again.” She said sternly as they took their places.

“I believe there was no trying involved, I lifted you successfully and without challenge, despite your efforts to strangle me.” 

Penelope laughed and something in Colin swelled with pride. 

“If I did have the mind to strangle you Colin, you would know.” 

The sudden image of her delicate hands around his throat flashed through his mind and he suddenly felt the need to swallow. 

“I see now that I have taught you nothing, here we have begun to dance and yet you hold me at arms length.” 

She sighed but nonetheless on the next turn she stepped closer into his space. “Is this more to your liking?” She asked, looking through her lashes at him. 

Again he found himself needing to swallow. 

He had caught the scent of her, a sweet smell of citrus and lilac perhaps, emanating from her softly curled hair. 

There was something so feminine about it, so Pen. 

All at once he was aware of how he was holding her, touching the curve of her hip, the soft slope of her back as they moved with the music. 

She smiled at him. “Are you enjoying yourself, Colin?” She tried again.

“Very much so.” Was all he could get out. 

She pressed her hand to his chest as they made their next turn in a way that made him aware of every one of her fingers. 

As they turned back he rested his hand on her shoulder one fingertip tasting the soft skin of her neck.

“I really cannot thank you enough for helping me, Colin. I am truly starting to believe that I might marry this season.”

He was struck by the way she smiled up at him.

“In truth, until this season I thought you shared Eloise’s disdain for marriage.” He admitted, forcing himself to focus on the conversation.

“Until this year, I was quite the hopeless romantic.” She said self-effacingly. “I thought love had to hit one like some thunderbolt from the sky. Instantly transforming a person into someone completely different.”

He turned her and instantly wanted to pull her back, hanging on her every word.

“Though I still hold marriage in high regard I no longer believe such a love is necessary.” 

“You do not seek a love match?” He asked, surprised.

“I have not entirely given up on the idea. It is only that I now believe that love might be something that grows. It might start in something as simple as a smile or…a word. I do not believe I should worry if I do not feel anything now. As long as I find someone with whom I am compatible in other ways I am sure I could feel something for them in enough time.” 

“I must admit I never thought of it like that, I too believed love had to hit someone suddenly. Well, I suppose we both know how that turned out for me...” 

All of a sudden he felt her gently squeeze his hand.

She caught his eye and he found himself looking back into her gaze. Her eyes really were the bluest things he had ever seen. 

She was so incredibly close, trusting him not to cross the bounds she stepped up to. Pressing closer to him on each pass, brushing his wrist, his arm.

He remembered the lewd words made by Cutbill and Fife and the rest of them. She had grown into herself. He was a man and could not help but notice.

Close to her now he could see her dress was constructed by a pearl like silk overlaid with black lace, it lay delicately against her skin. Her smooth décolletage curving away from her neck. 

In truth, he was staring, her very breathing distracting him, calling him to look.

The dance ended. 

“I find myself in desperate need for some fresh air.” He heard himself tell her. “Excuse me.” 

He did not dare look back. Hoping to God that she could not see the effect she had had on him. 

Penelope blinked as she watched Colin quickly retreat from her. 

Before she had time to guess what was the matter with him the tap of a cane announced Lady Danbury. 

“There you are. Miss Featherington, may I finally introduce to you Mister Anderson and the Baron, Lord Debling. I hope my doing so will not dissuade you from accepting my invitation to dine together.”

Caught off guard as she was, Penelope quickly composed herself as they each greeted her and asked for her dance card.

“How curious.” The Lord Debling stated as he held her wrist so he could inspect the card. “It is empty and yet I saw you leaving the floor with a gentleman only moments ago.” 

Colin, as always, had forgotten to sign his name. 

“To remedy the situation, I believe I should sign my name twice. A lady such as yourself should not be without a full dance card.” 

“You are too kind.” Penelope heard herself say. Overcome with a sudden nervousness. 

She waited as the very handsome Mister Anderson also signed his name for a quadrille. 

She went to excuse herself then but before she could, Lord Wilding came upon her and insisted on signing her card twice as well. 

Before Lord Cutbill of all people came up from behind them all and took the last dance left. 

It had taken more than a while for Colin to compose himself. 

After finding and finishing two glasses of wine and pacing a distance along the dark walk and back he had decided that after  all, the only thing that had overcome him was exactly what Penelope had said, the sensual undercurrent of the night. 

As he came back upon the terrace he found it empty save one lone figure waiting for him, it seemed.

“Enjoying your walk, brother?” Benedict asked, holding his own glass of wine. 

“Am I not allowed to enjoy the night air alone without interrogation?” Colin asked defensively. 

“Alone, yes, but Anthony seemed to think you had taken Miss Penelope Featherington out here with you and I was sent to tell you it had gone too far.” 

“Well I am indeed alone, so you may tell Anthony there is nothing to worry about.” 

“Is there?” Benedict started, “nothing to worry about?” 

“Whatever do you mean?” 

“Well it is only that Anthony is adamant that no special licenses need be applied for this particular season.” 

“Penelope is a friend.” Colin sighed with exasperation. 

“So you keep saying.” Benedict finished his wine. “Tell me, if she is just a friend, why is it that you spend more time with her than any other friends of yours lately ?” 

“There is a perfectly reasonable explanation.”

“Which is?”

“That I am helping her.” 

“How exactly are you able to help her?” 

“To marry.” 

“To marry?”

“Yes, she wishes to marry quickly, and given her family’s circumstance I offered to help, to make introductions and so forth.” 

“And her mother is unable to manage such things?”

“Her mother is entirely too preoccupied with the elder sister’s prospects and I do not entirely believe she has Penelope’s best interests at heart.” Colin explained angrily. 

“Ah.” Benedict put down his glass and looked out over the gardens. He seemed to be pondering something very deeply. “You know, for someone who seems to prize this friendship so much it is surprising you seem so hurried to see it over with.” 

Colin was lost for words. As far as he knew his friendship with Penelope was not going anywhere. He told his brother as much. 

“Sorry to be the executioner of such childish fantasies, brother but Penelope Featherington will not be able to remain your friend after she is married.” 

“Why ever not?” Colin demanded angrily.

Benedict looked incredulous. “How many married ladies do you see who are befriended by bachelors? It is not something our society allows. Her reputation would be ruined if she spares you so much as a glance once she is taken.”

A horrible, indescribable feeling formed in the pit of Colin’s stomach. 

“Shall I fetch you another glass of wine?” Benedict offered. 

Colin shook his head. “No, I think I should return inside.”

Despite his words Colin found himself looking for a glass of anything more than lemonade when Penelope could not be located right away.

He regretted leaving her alone. 

Glass now in hand he resorted to looking around the dance floor. 

There she was.

Somewhere between his leaving and now, she had removed her gloves and now the hands that had been held in his were being held by another.

In two gulps he downed his drink as he watched them, the pit inside him burning wider and deeper.

Chapter Text

On the sixth of April, in the year 1805 - precisely two days before her ninth birthday - Penelope Featherington fell in love. 

Or as close to love as one can fall at such a tender age. 

And she was able to tell herself with some satisfaction, one Colin Bridgerton - fell for her as well. Though not in precisely the same way.

That was the year that the Featherington’s finally made it to Mayfair from the country.

Penelope had immediately been stuffed into a yellow smock and leading strings like some kind of infant and to make matters worse her mother insisted on a lace bonnet.

They were going promenading after all. 

Their first London promenade was a daunting affair, their mother had made sure to stop and greet absolutely everyone they came near. 

They had walked nearly half the park before someone stopped to greet them, a woman in mourning colors, surrounded by a congregation of beautiful children. 

Not wanting to be forced to talk to any of the children, none of whom were forced to wear bonnets or leading strings, Penelope slipped away from her mother and hurried into a thick group of trees and shrubs.

As soon as she was concealed she ripped her bonnet off her head with small angry hands and looked around for a place to hide it. She would say simply that the wind had blown it off.

“Hey!” Someone whispered. 

Panicking, Penelope returned the bonnet to her head. 

“Hey!” The voice said again.

This time she looked up and was shocked to see a boy looking down at her from a particularly fat trunked tree.

“What are you doing up there?” She whispered, marveling at how tall the other child had climbed. 

“Watching.” He answered simply as though he cared not for his safety “I can see your mama talking to mine from up here.” 

Penelope immediately wanted to be able to see.

“Might I climb up to join you?” She asked 

“Sure.”

With a determination she had never felt before in her young life, she took on each of the branches as they came, until she was level with the boy. 

He immediately pointed out their mothers and Penelope could see them, could even make out part of what they were saying.

“That is not true, you know.” She told him as her Mama bragged about inheriting their new home. “I believe my Papa won it in some sort of game.” 

The boy smiled at her. “You hear all manner of things up here. People will say and do almost anything when they think no one is looking.”

“My name is Penelope.” Penelope told him. 

“I know, I heard your Mama say it.” The boy laughed. 

“Penelope FEATHERINGTON!” Portia’s voice shrieked and Penelope looked to see that they had been spotted and her ferocious Mama was now sprinting towards them, skirts in hand.

Both children scrambled to get down as quickly as possible. 

However, Penelope found she could not go much further as she looked down to see the height she had climbed to.

“I believe I am stuck.” She announced as she clung to the trunk. 

“Hold on there, I will help you.” The boy said in such a way she almost believed him. “Grab onto my arm and I shall help you onto the bough below.” 

She did as he told her and she was almost upon the lower branch when a gust of wind hit them.

Penelope lost her grip and fell. Catching her arms around the lower branch.

The boy, however, was not so lucky as Penelope’s bonnet, which she had untied earlier, had flown off her head and hit him splat in the face.

Penelope gasped as he wobbled, fell and then landed with a smarting smack into a mud puddle below them.

“Colin!” The woman in mourning clothes, who had followed Penelope’s Mama, cried out. 

With her fear forgotten, Penelope climbed the rest of the way down, holding back a strangled shriek. She was sure the boy was dead.

As she reached the ground, an older boy was turning the fallen boy named Colin over. He was not dead, he was shaking. For a split second Penelope thought he was crying, but no, he was laughing. 

“That wasn’t very well done of me, was it?” He chuckled, looking right at Penelope. 

Later, as their family rode home in their carriage Portia chastised her youngest daughter, warning her not to let that naughty boy have any influence over her ever again.

Only it was too late, for Penelope Featherington had fallen fervently in love with one Colin Bridgerton

Dearest Gentle Reader, 

“One might say that it is better to take delight in virtue than in scandal.

This author would have to disagree with that sentiment entirely. As the sun rises today on many a promenading couple will it illuminate promises made anew after wayward touches given during last night’s ball? 

Or once again will those belonging to the less fair sex prove themselves not up to scratch? Only time will tell…

Penelope had not slept a wink. She had danced in her room and shared with Jane all the night's events. 

Then she drafted and edited her next Whistledown. Thanks to Colin she had seen the dance floor in an entirely new light. The way one gentleman’s hand might press too long against his partner’s back. She now knew it was entirely intentional. 

It was only in the early hours that she returned from her drop off location and it seemed that the minute her head hit the pillow, she was being dragged up again to dress and wait for callers. 

This had all been much easier when she had not truly partaken in society’s events. 

“Colin Bridgerton is here for you Miss.” Mrs Varley informed on her way towards the kitchen. 

“I shall see him at once!” Penelope sang. 

Only she stopped short, for in front of her drawing room was a line of not two or three but four gentlemen.

“Um, I am happy to wait.” Colin supplied from the end of the line, seemingly put out. 

Penelope glanced into the drawing room where Prudence and her Mama were waving frantically at her. 

“Just a moment.” She said, smiling at the small line. And she ducked quickly inside.

“Did you see!” Prudence gushed excitedly as Pen came closer. “Lord Dankworth is here, to see me !” 

“Yes, I can see that.” Penelope looked at her mother waiting for an answer. 

“I thought I told you not to waste any more time with that Colin Bridgerton.” She chastised. “You and your sister are entertaining marriage, his continued presence is strange to say the least.” 

Penelope let out a noise of frustration. Though she saw her mother’s point. She had decided the night before that she would tell him the truth about Whistledown and he would no longer want anything to do with her. She just needed more time.

 “Why are the gentlemen waiting outside?” She asked her mother.

“Well.” Portia touched the back of her elaborate hair style. “We do not want them to think we are eager.” 

“But we are eager.” Penelope said, annoyed. “You yourself said the money will run out by the season’s end, both Prudence and I need to be married.” 

“But they do not know that.” Portia laughed as though that were terribly obvious.

Penelope suppressed a tremendous eye roll. “I shall see what Colin wants and send him on his way and I shall send Lord Dankworth in?” 

“Yes, well, I suppose he has waited long enough.” 

Once Penelope had pushed Dankworth through to her beaming sister she turned to Colin. 

“I believe I shall speak to you first.” She told him. “Though let us allow my sister and Lord Dankworth their space.” 

Catching on he agreed and they quickly walked together to the seat furthest from a very loud conversation about ducks.

“Why are you here, Colin?” She asked curiously.

“Well I was hoping I could ask you to promenade with me today.” 

Penelope laughed, sure he was joking.

“Is something funny?”

“No, Colin, it is just that I have callers, surely they will ask me to promenade with them and that must take priority above all else.” 

Colin’s face looked like one of a gravely ill man. Surely he could not be hurt by this revelation. 

She smiled at him, hoping her cheeriness would spread, gently she touched his hand. “May I remind you that our whole plan this season was so that I could get married. And now I have callers, real actual callers! All thanks to you! I really could not have done it without you Colin, your lessons on dancing really proved invaluable more than you possibly know.” 

A tea service was passed to them and they each took a cup and a plate of sandwiches and biscuits. Colin looked at them with a curious expression.

He finally smiled back at her. Though it was small. “You are right, this was our plan. Perhaps I shall still see you at the park nonetheless?” 

“Perhaps.” Penelope smiled. 

Colin made to get up. 

“Colin, wait!” 

He turned back, a strangely hopeful expression on his face. 

She lowered her voice, “I believe that Lord Wilding is only here to discuss Whistledown theories with me again. We both agree he is not seeking a marriage. Could you…speak with him?” 

“Of course, Pen.”

She thanked him profusely and allowed him to go. She waited until he had taken Wilding away before she returned outside. 

Smiling politely at Debling she indicated for him to follow her into the drawing room. 

Colin joked with Wilding as they walked together outside. 

“Wilding, I am afraid I have to tell you something about Penelope.” 

“Yes? And what would that be?” He asked, brow furrowed. 

“I must ask that you discontinue courting her.” 

The young man looked incredibly offended.

“And who are you to ask such a thing of me?” 

“I am her…friend.” 

There was a magnanimously long pause as Wilding looked at the house, then at Colin then back at the house again. 

“Her…friend.” He said as though he was trying the word out for the very first time. Then a strange sort of smile came across his face. “Ah, her friend .” He said. “I see, and you are asking me to no longer call on or court Penelope Featherington because you and her are friends .” 

“Yes.” Colin confirmed. “I am glad we are at an understanding.”

Without warning, Wilding clapped Colin on the back. “I must thank you, Bridgerton, for warning me off before I got my heart broken. It shall be a difficult recovery but I know when I have been bested.” 

Colin offered what he hoped was a look of condolence as he bid Wilding farewell. 

As soon as the young Lord’s carriage rolled away, Colin decided that he needed a drink. 

He had noticed as he waited in the foyer that Debling had brought a rather large bouquet of pink dianthus.

Penelope felt as though she were a beam of light. 

Debling had brought with him a missive from Lady Danbury formally inviting her to dine with her and wondering sharply what was taking her so long.

In truth, all her time after hours was being spent keeping up with Whistledown and she had never finished her letter. 

None of that mattered now. Debling was perfect. And the more she learned of him the more perfect he became.

He lived an eccentric life of travel and adventure, going as far as to see the mosques of Indonesia. 

He had at one point owned a pet monkey but had been forced to leave it in a temple in the Himalayas when it fell in love with a member of its own species who in turn was a companion to a Buddhist monk there. 

He managed his lands and money well enough to fund said travel and his spare time he divided between studying literature and writing both poetry and prose, publishing only his autobiographical work. 

He was busy, wealthy, intelligent and handsome. With him, she knew could choose to carry on with Whistledown and he would be none the wiser due to his lifestyle or she could abandon Whistedown completely and use his tutelage to turn to other pursuits of writing that could challenge her in new ways. 

Secretly inside herself she found the most pleasing part of Debling was that he did not make her simper. Around him she felt none of the nervousness she felt when she was around Colin (though most of that was gone now), she did not find herself rehearsing what to say to him ten times over or thinking excessively about any misspoken phrases she may have uttered in his presence.

No, around Lord Debling she felt perfectly and completely fine. And that was the way she liked it. 

She set her mind to changing into something even more becoming before their promenade that afternoon. She grabbed Jane and they got to work.

Not three hours later, Penelope, her mother and sister were enjoying the fresh air. She felt the ladies and gentlemen of the ton looking at her as she twirled her parasole and listened intently to Lord Debling. 

A traitorous part of her wanted to check the back of her bright blue dress in case she had dragged her hem through something unmentionable. Though she knew that was not the case. 

“I dare say those boats look interesting?” Debling asked suddenly, squinting out over the lake.

“Indeed, I think they are.” Penelope smiled. She had often watched couples rowing upon the lake with wistful longing.

“They do look like fun, do they not?” The man chuckled. “What say you?”

“I say that sounds like a truly marvelous idea.” Penelope beamed. 

She watched amusedly as Debling secured one of the boats. 

She let him hold her hand and even guide her by her waist so she was able to sit comfortably on the velvet cushions. 

Then they were off as he rowed them deftly out onto the middle of the lake.

Penelope laughed with the excitement of it all.

“Do you mind?” The man asked bringing out a thick brown stick of some kind that seemed to be wrapped in paper. 

“Not at all.” 

She watched curiously as he withdrew a box of matches from his pocket. Placing the stick in his mouth he lit it and began drawing in and expelling puffs of smoke. 

“Is that like a tobacco pipe?” She asked, ever excited to learn something new.

“Indeed it is.” The man said casually, taking it out to show her. “From Spain.” 

“I have a friend who just returned from there.” 

“Ah one of those grand tour types I suppose.” 

“Everyone has to begin somewhere.” She defended.

“I suppose you could be right. Though truth be told most men only go to foreign parts to dalliance with women without society’s usual consequences plaguing them.”

“And is that what you are doing in London?” She asked. “Dalliancing?” 

The man smiled and leaned toward her. “One does not come to London to dalliance.”

Penelope smiled at that. She stretched her mind for something interesting she might ask the man about himself. 

“May I ask who the greatest writer you have met was?” 

Debling thought a moment. “That would have to be Keates, remarkable fellow.”

“Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness” Penelope recited excitedly.

“You have read him!” Debling pronounced with glee, “well, how about this one? Whilhome in Albion’s isle there dwelt a youth, who ne in virtue’s ways did take delight…”

Penelope smiled, “But spent his days in riot most uncouth! And vexed with mirth the drowsy ear of night.” She finished for him. 

“A troubled man, Lord Byron.” He lamented.

“May I try rowing, my Lord?” She asked suddenly. 

None of the ladies on the lake ever tried their hand at rowing,  though Penelope had a feeling Lord Debling would let her do whatever her heart desired.

Mondrich’s was quiet in the warm lull of the late morning.

The rooms were clean, dotted only with men enjoying the peace of the place.

Colin had his mind half made up to converse with Will Mondrich again, about what he did not know, but in the event he was not in he would content himself with another brandy. 

As he approached the bar he saw not the owner but his wife, her name evaded him. 

“I did not see you there, Bridgerton. Let me fetch Barnaby for you and he can serve you what you like.” She said, standing up.

Suddenly, the idea of having a drink so early in the day turned his stomach. “That will be quite alright. I was hoping to speak to your husband, is he in?”

The woman straightened herself, her face hardened. “Will said you might be back to see him.” She lowered her voice. “We are very grateful to you for the business you brought to the place. It has been doing well as you have seen. Should your conscience be troubling you over what my husband told you-“

“-No!” Colin interrupted. “Far from it, my conscience is quite at rest, I assure you, I simply wished to…” Colin trailed off, not quite knowing how to explain that he simply wished to talk to the man again. 

“…to discuss increasing your patronage perhaps? Last year you were looking to invest in something and we need investors.” She supplied. 

Colin grabbed onto the idea. “That is exactly what I wished to discuss with him.” 

“You can find him at the old boxing ring, he trains there from time to time. Speak to Willoughby on the way out and he will give you directions. 

Colin did as was told to him and found his way to the training ring in question where Mondrich waited inside, watching two others battle it out. 

He looked surprised to see Colin and moved away from the sidelines. 

“Your wife ah…?”

“Alice?” Mondrich provided. 

“Yes. She told me where I could find you, as I wish to discuss business.” 

“Business?” A smile of what Colin assumed was relief touched the man’s face. 

“She mentioned you were looking for investors?” 

“I see you have not brought a solicitor with you?” 

Colin offered a sheepish grin. “When she mentioned you were training, I could not resist coming at once.” 

“As I recall you always were a true fan of the sport.” 

“Does not every young boy imagine himself standing the victor in the ring?” Colin laughed. 

“Not many do among gentlemen circles.” Mondrich replied. “Come up, I am next and I can show you a thing or two.”

Colin was aware of being fully dressed to his chin and could not picture himself stripping down to the level of the others there. “Oh, I do not think-“

“Come, Bridgerton, do not tell me you have no steam to blow off?” 

On second thought, Colin decided the exercise would do him good. 

After a thorough beating and an invitation to come back again the following week, Colin had found himself washing his upper torso at a bucket and listening to Mondrich regail him with stories of his fighting days. 

“And I shall see you at your club with my solicitor.” He promised as he tenderly dressed again.

The whole fight he had told himself he would not go to check up on Penelope and her suitor. 

But with every smackdown he had lost some resolve and now he felt like it would not do very much harm just to walk by them to see everything was going well. 

The walk was swift as he came upon the gardens and lake, sunlit people of high society gliding past. He did not suppose any of them had cleaned themselves in buckets. 

“Colin! I did not know you would be joining us today, what a lovely surprise!” The voice of his mother wrapped around him like a smothering hug and he turned to face an alarmingly large congregation of Bridgertons and company. Along with his siblings and mother stood the Earl, beside his sister Francesca, Lady Danbury, her nephew Marcus Anderson and of all people, Lady Featherington, her daughter Prudence and Lord Dankworth.

Colin took his time greeting them all properly, starting with the Earl and working his way down. 

“Walk up ahead with us, Colin.” Violet insisted in a tone that said he had no choice.

Somehow the chaotic group began walking again as one. “I saw Miss Malhotra up just ahead, she debuted with you Francesca, did she not?” Violet asked conspicuously. 

“I was sure she would be named the diamond.” Fran confirmed. “She is quite becoming.” 

“I hope not too becoming.” The voice of Prudence Featherington grumbled behind them. 

Colin sighed inwardly. He knew that his mother knew each and every debutant and he had no idea why she was bringing this girl up to him when Benedict walked a few paces behind them.

They came upon the family close to the edge of the lake where more adventurous suitors were getting into boats. 

In turn, Colin was introduced to the Lord and Lady Malhotra and their young daughter, Sita.

“I take it your daughter was hoping to go out on the lake today?” Violet asked cheerfully. “It just so happens that my son Colin is quite skilled at rowing, are you not Colin?” Colin looked at his mother incredulously. 

To his mercy, the crowd with them dispersed along the water’s edge, distracted by the families of ducks swimming by. 

“We have no problem with him taking Sita out, as long as we can see them from the edge at all times of course.” 

“Of course.” Violet agreed heartily, shoving Colin in the back and toward the boats. 

He turned back to her, too stunned to speak at her pushy behavior. “Perhaps while you and Miss Malhotra are on the Lake you might wave to Penelope. She and Lord Debling have been out for quite a while.” Violet kept her voice light, even laughing as she said it, but something in her tone made Colin’s stomach clench.

He immediately stepped into his gentlemanly role, helping Miss Malhotra into her seat. 

Unfortunately, all the canopied boats were taken and as they paddled out the sun beat down on them both. 

He smiled politely at the young lady sat on the high backed seat in front of him but she pulled quite a face. 

“What is that smell?” She asked, affronted. 

Colin knew immediately that she referred to himself. Evidently the bucket had not done the job. 

“Perhaps a fish has come to the surface to die.” He mused. “Let us paddle on.” 

The girl had leant over the water to look for dead fish but shot back up as Colin’s already tired and aching arms pushed them through the water. 

He made sure they passed close by every boat, looking for signs of Penelope. It did not escape his notice that Miss Malhotra had begun looking at him suspiciously as she held her nose. 

It was only after the fifth boat that he heard a melodic voice reciting Keates of all things. 

He slowed down. 

“Is there a reason we are stopping here?” The girl asked. “My father did tell us to stay close to the edge…my word, what are they doing?”

Colin was watching too as the boat from whence Penelope’s voice sounded, wobbled violently as the man rowing, Lord Debling, stood up.

For an awful moment he thought he would have to dive in after Penelope. But as he watched, she too stood up. Emerging from her shaded spot in a pale blue day dress. She reached for the Lord’s outstretched hand. Incomprehensibly, he helped her situate herself at the oars before trading their places. They both laughed in triumph and then in mirth as Penelope attempted to row them about but only managed a circle. 

“Have you ever seen such a sight?” The lady in Colin’s boat asked. 

He had to admit, he had not.

It was the day after her promenade with Debling.

Just as the broad sun was sinking in its tranquility Penelope Featherington stepped from her family’s carriage and walked up to Danbury house, alone. 

The olden toned house seemed to loom at her, reminding her of that first ball she had attended after her debut. Filled with hope. 

Gone was the golden world of that night, the chink of glasses, the hum of music and conversation moving like a throbbing heart. Now the house creaked with grandness, a cavernous hall drawing her into its internal spaces. 

Lady Danbury met her before the dining hall. “I am glad to see you were able to come unchaperoned.” She crooned. “It is not an easy task for our sex.” 

“Easier when one is a third daughter, I would suspect.” Penelope diverted. 

“Come through my girl. I had hoped for tonight to be an intimate affair but it seemed other plans were afoot.” 

As the servants of the house opened the large doors the first thing to catch Penelope’s eye was the coalition of Bridgertons at the table. 

It seemed the whole family had secured themselves a place along with Marcus Anderson who was seated next to Violet Bridgerton. Lord Debling and a blond woman Penelope had never laid eyes on sat together at the far end. 

“Come, allow me to introduce you to Lady Arnold, she is a relation to your friend, Lord Debling.” 

As Penelope followed her host down the length of the table she caught Colin’s eye and smiled. Just as she did, another gaze caught hers. Eloise was sitting next to her brother and was looking none too pleased at the exchange she had just witnessed. 

“Lady Arnold, might I introduce a good friend of mine, Miss Penelope Featherington, she is one of the more accomplished young ladies of the ton and as I take it has seemed to have captured the attention of your half brother.”

As the woman turned to face Penelope she was struck by the otherworldliness looking back at her. 

Lady Arnold accomplished in her manner and style what Cressida Cowper failed at. There was a curated extravagance to her as well as an air of regelness. She smiled at Penelope, seemingly allured by her. 

“So you are the young Lady who has managed to keep my brother in London for more than a week?” She surmised. “You must tell me how you did it.” 

There was a seat left between Lord Debling and his sister she was beckoned to take. 

Penelope hesitated momentarily as doing so would put her directly across from Colin and Eloise. 

Seeing no way out she sat in the seat. 

Immediately, the Lady Arnold lent toward her brother. “It seems the widow Bridgerton is quite taken by Marcus.” She whispered. 

Penelope glanced over. Indeed, Violet rested her hand on the man’s arm as she laughed at something he said. Was this why they were all here? 

“Your ball was a most excellent affair this year Lady Danbury.” Anthony Bridgerton complimented, keeping up decorum by conversing with their host. “How do you outdo yourself every year?” 

“As her majesty insisted ahead of time on attending and requesting the event be held out of London and sport a Royal theme, I had very little choice in the matter.” 

Penelope’s mind whirled. Now knowing how heavily the Queen’s hand had played in the opening event she wondered how much was orchestrated to catch her out. Certainly holding the event out of London would make it obvious if anyone tried leaving early. 

“Speaking of balls.” Anthony continued. “You are all, of course, personally invited to our soirée at Aubrey hall in the coming week.”

Another curiosity caught Penelope’s attention as she looked at the Viscount, it was obvious that Kate Bridgerton, the viscountess touched none of her food or drink. Was she ill?

Sensing someone looking at her Penelope glanced at Colin but his eyes were on his brother who was explaining the theme of the ball he and his wife were hosting. Instead it was Eloise’s eyes piercing her and they were murderous. 

“Tell me Lady Arnold.” Francesca Bridgerton spoke up, breaking Eloise’s stare. “Have you lived in London long?” 

“No, in fact I only moved here after the death of my husband last year.” She explained. 

“Oh I am sorry!” Francesca consoled.

“Do not be. I have found widowhood suits me well. I cannot overstate the sense of freedom one feels as a woman.” 

“Come now sister, there are impressionable young men at this table and I do not want any of us believing our future spouses would be better off with us dead.” He jested. 

It did not go unnoticed to Penelope that the Bridgerton siblings nearby shared uncomfortable looks. 

Also noticing the look on Francesca’s face the Earl joined their conversation. “I for one hope for a long and happy life with whomever I should marry.” He smiled at Francesca. “Though if misfortune were to strike me I should hope any children we had together would offer her the same comfort the Lady Bridgerton found with hers.” 

Francesca smiled in such a way Penelope felt even her own heart melt a little. 

“Well I for one think it sounds wonderful. To have one’s freedom and own money. To go anywhere and do anything.” Eloise explained.

“It is a delight.” Lady Arnold agreed. “In more ways than you could imagine. And though I had no children.” The Lady Arnold continued. “I have many a good friend to keep me company.” 

Eloise blinked and Penelope heard Debling mutter “Tilley, stop.” To his sister. 

“Before our next course I should like to take you all on a tour of my new art wing.” Lady Danbury announced as their places were cleared. 

All at once they were encouraged out of their seats and led through to a brightly lit section of the grand house. 

Danbury began to split them into smaller groups to set off into different wings where her art was on display. 

To Penelope’s absolute dread she found herself paired with Eloise. 

“I trust you two to stay together.” Lady Danbury instructed in a heavy tone. “As neither of you are chaperoned and there are young men present.” 

Eloise barely suppressed a snort as half the young men present were her brothers. 

“Certainly, Lady Danbury.” Penelope agreed, earning her a nod from the dowager. 

As soon as all others were out of earshot Eloise let out an exasperated sigh and stomped a few paces ahead. 

“There is no need to be uncivil with me.” Penelope muttered.

Eloise scoffed and walked on for quite some time.

She stopped in front of a painting of two women peering out an open window, expressions of curiosity and mirth on their faces. She looked at it a moment before turning back on Penelope. 

“I am not ungrateful that you have kept my family out of your little gossip sheet, you know.” She said, hurt evident in her voice. “I am sure you have heard all manner of things by sidling up to my brother.”

Penelope pursed her lips, taking no mind of the bait Eloise was laying out for her. “Colin speaks very little of your family’s affairs, though it has not gone unnoticed by others that neither Francesca’s presentation or her courtship with the Earl has been published.” 

Eloise stepped forward, fire in her eyes. Penelope kept her ground.

“Better not mentioned at all than subject to you exposing them for everyone else to judge.” Eloise spat. 

“The only one of your family I ever exposed to judgment was you, if I recall.” Penelope responded, keeping her voice cool. 

Eloise spluttered. “Do not pretend that your piece did not hurt them too. You care nothing for us.”

“Would you have rathered I left you exposed to the Queen? She would have kept true to her promise to destroy you all, you know.” 

“I had a plan!” 

Penelope allowed herself to laugh. 

“What is funny?” Eloise demanded. “I could have done it, you know. I could have pretended to be you, I could have written for the Queen.” 

The cool Penelope had been maintaining waned. “You think too highly of yourself, Eloise. I have been writing for years, do not think you could have fooled her majesty herself. And even if you could, would you have been satisfied playing propagandist to the crown?” 

Eloise cut her eyes. Cruelness dripping into her voice. “I do not think it would have been terribly hard, pretending to be you. To parrot salacious gossip as uninspired entertainment.” 

Penelope narrowed her eyes back. “Then where is your work Eloise? Why have you not imparted on the ton your own pamphlet of whatever you deem is important enough for us all to read? You have more time and money than I do, so if it is so easy, why have you not done it?” 

Eloise turned away. “Stay away from Colin.” She said coldly. 

“That was not a part of your demands.” Penelope responded, taken aback. “You only told me not to write about your family, not to ignore them all together.”

“Well I am demanding it now.”

“Or what, Eloise? Will you really turn me in? Collect your ten thousand pounds?” 

Eloise turned back, a flicker of something in her eyes that Penelope did not dare to believe was there. “Why are you spending so much time with him?” Eloise demanded.

All the anger suddenly began to drain from Penelope. This was an opportunity to be honest. To prove she knew what she had done was wrong despite the hurt between them. “He is helping me. Our family is struggling more than anyone knows. I need to find a match this season or remain a spinster.” 

“Is there anything wrong with being a spinster?”

Penelope laughed mirthlessly. “A spinster with a viscount brother supporting her is one thing. It is quite another if we find ourselves without a house to live in and at the mercy of far off relatives.” 

“Does Whistledown not-“

“I do not make nearly enough to cover all the expenses the season brings and if I were forced from London then I would find myself without even that income.” 

Eloise let out a puff of air that almost sounded sympathetic. “How exactly does Colin play into this?” 

Penelope shrugged. “I suppose he feels responsible for the position I find myself in. He confronted cousin Jack last year about his mining scheme. He offered him time to put everything right but of course, he fled.” 

Eloise opened her mouth but Penelope cut her off.

“-I know he is not at fault. But his introductions and guidance have been invaluable to me. For the first time I have had callers, and I believe Lord Debling wishes to court me.” 

“So you really will be married then? You will be able to stay in London?” Her voice almost sounded like hope. Like she would want Penelope to remain in London.

“Yes, and I will be able to continue Whistledown.” 

Eloise scowled. “Then as soon as you are married you must never speak to Colin or any of my family ever again.”

For whatever reason, Anthony had insisted that Colin stick closely with himself and Kate.

They truly were a hideous sight, arms woven together and whispering over each piece of art that even hinted at amorousness. 

Colin paused at a depiction of Leda and the swan, her lush form curving around the gigantic bird. Ruddy curls cascading behind her back.

“This way, Colin.” Anthony snapped as he once again tried to slink away. 

“Would you like to tell us some more about your travels?” Kate suggested, clearly taking pity on him. 

“There is not very much to tell.” Colin replied forlornly. 

The couple before him shared a worried look before Kate nodded and walked ahead. 

Anthony rounded on Colin. “You will tell me at once what ails you!” He demanded in a way that was so quintessentially Anthony Colin wanted to laugh. He did not. 

“I have found myself stuck on something Benedict told me.” Colin admitted to his brother.

There was a beat of silence.

“Which is?” Anthony pressed. 

“That it is not often that married ladies maintain friendships with bachelors.” Colin supplied, feeling he had to painfully pull the information out of himself.

Anthony looked back at the corridor they had come from and his eyes softened. “I take it your good friend who you believe shall be married soon is Penelope Featherington? I would not worry yourself Colin, she is young and many courtships fall through in these early stages. There is a chance you may have another year of friendship left.” 

Whatever hope remained flickering inside Colin burnt out. 

Anthony must have noticed the change in his brother because he looked back at his wife who was shaking her head at him. 

“What I mean to say is…maybe she shall find herself in a marriage where her husband does not pay her much attention?” 

“I do not know for sure if marriage is even right for her.” Colin explained. “I feel like this is all a terrible rush.” 

“You did not feel so about Daphne or Francesca.”

“Penelope is different, she values her independence.”

“Then what is making her marry this season?” Anthony prodded. 

“I cannot disclose all I know but I have reason to believe that her mother will not be able to afford a season after this one.” 

Anthony smiled, a seemingly bright idea marking itself across his face. “If it is only money the girl needs then I am sure we can find a way to sponsor her another season after all she is…she has always been close friends with Eloise.” Anthony decided. “We owe her a great many kindnesses for that alone.”

The light of hope seemed to return to Colin. “Do you really mean what you say?” He asked. 

Inside he was spiraling. He could tell Penelope she need not marry in haste. They could have more time. 

Anthony grinned, “See, I am not a completely heartless beast.” 

Kate returned to them and took Anthony’s arm in hers, “marriage has indeed softened him.” She agreed with a smile.

Colin quickly averted his eyes as they learnt toward each other to kiss. 

“Might I go? I saw a very interesting depiction of Ulysses further on and-“

“- yes, go find her.” Anthony sighed. 

It took longer than expected to finally find Penelope’s voice. She was talking to Eloise in a corner far from where they had begun.

“-you must never speak to Colin or any of my family ever again.” His sister’s voice spoke. 

He spotted them but he froze, unable to take another step and interrupt them. 

“Indeed I will not. I plan on telling him everything and then as soon as I am married, trust that I will never see nor speak to him ever again.” 

Colin must have made a noise for both pairs of eyes shot to him.

He could not trust himself to speak and so he simply nodded and walked away. 

Aubrey Hall was trussed and dressed for the masquerade ball.

Anthony and Kate were not holding it inside, however, but on the grounds. 

Colin made his way into the gardens set in shadow. A quick melody played over the dancing partners. 

The moon hung full overhead. Illuminating the attire of their guests. The ladies swirling on the floor were in shades of silver and ivory. Their pale half masks peaked over their noses and were decorated with feathers. Their counterparts, like Colin, wore black. Their black masks also formed a slight beak and fanned out with dark feathers. 

As he moved through the crowds Colin knew that Penelope was in white and she was waiting for him. 

The crowd seemed to part for him as he moved and there she was. Standing on the edge of it all. Lovely and ethereal, her hair out and curling behind her. 

“There you are.” She smiled 

Her eyes were on his as she reached for him, startling blue even in the moonlight reflecting off the lake behind them all. 

She nodded to the other dancers on the floor, “shall we join them?” She asked.

He returned her nod with his own and found himself swept into the movement of the song around them. 

Despite knowing the steps he found himself ignoring them in favor of drawing her closer to him. 

“Are you trying to kiss me?” She asked playfully as he kept her against him, tilting her face so she could look at him.

“If I did” he replied. “You would be ruined forever.” 

He saw her swallow, her chest moving as her breath increased. They spun again. 

He had forgotten about words and found that all he could think about was kissing her. 

“Colin?” His name was a mere whisper on her lips.

He felt drunken. The sudden urge to leave the dance floor taking over. 

“Come, let us make our escape.” He told her. 

She nodded and they left together, no one noticing their exit. 

They ran together once the music was fading behind them, weaving through the gardens, past roses and lilacs and carnations. Pausing by an alcove. 

They turned to one another, breathless. 

“Colin?” She asked, still trying for air. “Could I ask you a favor?”

Her sleeves, which seemed to be made of moonbeams themselves slung low on her arms, her bodice was cut low as well. She was goddess-like.

“Of course.” He responded.

Her lips came together like a kiss, “would-“

A simple word. Would.

“Would you kiss me?”

His life as he knew it felt like it was ending and he did not seem to mind. 

Her masked face shone more silver than he ever thought possible, every curl of hair dark in shadow. 

“Unless you would rather we forget the idea?” She suggested softly.

The suggestion seemed good. Right. But Colin could not agree.

“Would you like us to forget the idea?” He asked in return, reaching out to hold her, his own voice a low whisper.

Her eyes burned as she looked up at him. “No. I am not going to forget it.” She said determined. “I have spent my life forgetting things, not saying them, never telling anyone what I really want.” 

He could feel her words all over his skin, on his neck, on his body. “What do you want?” He asked her, voice rough. 

“I do not want to reach the end of my life without ever having kissed you.” She replied. 

All Colin could think about was how very much he wanted to kiss her but he held back.

Surely that would be wrong. At the very least it would ruin their friendship. If they were caught then…

But Penelope opened her lips and said the one thing that could break his resolve in an instant. Gazing up at him, deeply into his eyes, she uttered one, simple, word.

“Please.”

All was lost.

They came together with an intensity that nearly buckled his knees. Their lips touched softly at first but then it was as though they needed one another for nourishment. To feed their souls, their hearts. 

She was trembling beneath his fingers as they kissed deeper. Tipping her head back he trailed his lips down her neck, across her chest.

She moaned for him and he felt he would pass away. Capturing her mouth with his, he knew he could have never let her go.

He had never before needed anybody quite so much and it humbled him. 

It was reverent.

It was beautiful.

It was glorious.

And on that unremarkable early morning in Mayfair, Colin Bridgerton woke up from his dream in his bedchamber quite alone.

Chapter Text

Penelope could not help herself but to watch all the Bridgertons pack themselves into a line of carriages set for Aubrey Hall. There the Earl would be meeting them. 

Her eyes followed Eloise who kept apart from her family, hunched over whatever she was reading. It was not like her, El always pushed forward in a crowd, stole the middle seat, spoke the loudest. 

Worry churned in Penelope’s ear. Was that version of El ever to return? Even if Pen herself was never welcomed back to enjoy it she would be able to rest if she knew she had not destroyed her friend’s happiness forever.

Then there was Colin. She was almost sure he would not join them as Fran and then Kate got in last of all. But there he was trailing from the house, pale and drawn. 

Pen bit her lip. She truly felt like she and Bridgertons were oil and water. They could not mix. The disturbance she felt she had on both their lives unsettled her. If she could have gotten out of joining them in the country in a few day’s time she would but her mother would not allow it and being removed from the gossip would surely out her as Whistledown. 

Silently, she vowed to herself that she would be like a ghost to them when there. She would leave as soon as appropriate and never darken their doorsteps again. 

Each carriage trundled away in succession and she sighed with relief. 

Before she could turn away though, a new, unrecognisable carriage replaced them.

Penelope watched with curiosity as a woman exited it. Lady Arnold. She began walking up to Featherington house, spurring Penelope to shoot up and rush to meet her. 

“Ah, Miss Penelope, I hoped I would find you up and ready to seize the day.” Lady Arnold crooned as Penelope descended.

“I did not expect to see you so soon after last night’s soirée, Lady Arnold.” 

The beautiful woman tsked politely. “Please, we are to be family, call me Tilley. And I was hoping to steal you away. The idea only came to me this morning, I am having a gathering of sorts and you would be a perfect addition.” 

“Let me gather my belongings.” Penelope stated with a smile. 

“You need to ask your mother, do you not?” The widow prompted, smiling at the thought. 

Penelope paused. “She shall not worry if I am not gone too long.” She explained carefully. 

Tilley’s face broke into a stunning grin. “Best be off then, shall we?” 

The house of Debling’s sister was an unassuming brick townhouse somewhat West of Berkeley square. 

Inside was both grand and quaint, with a dark and rich staircase meeting them in the entrance. 

Penelope followed Tilley as she gracefully removed her gloves and hair piece and wound through to the back of the house where music was playing. 

The room had a round quality to it, sunshine streamed in from large windows bathing the occupants in its warmth. Smoke and dust danced in and out of the beams as soft conversation filled the empty space in between. 

“Welcome to my writers’ guild, Miss Penelope.” Tilley announced, taking a seat on a plump armchair. 

Several of the occupants looked up. Penelope noticed a short haired woman was wearing men’s britches. A large man beside her was covered in fine lines of ink converging in intricate designs. The woman beside him who was strikingly beautiful smoked a cigar similar to the one Debling had when they promenaded. 

“Welcome.” The woman with the cigar said, removing it from her mouth. Her accent was French if Penelope had to guess. 

“Does she write?” A dark haired man asked in a light and delicate voice. 

“She does.” Tilley said slowly, her eyes firmly on Penelope. “Though nothing you have read, she writes exclusively for London’s smart set.” 

Penelope felt dowsed by cold water. What did Tilley know? 

“Leave her alone Lars.” The woman with the cigar said in a voice as deep as smoke. “She is an en fant. How old are you?” She asked Penelope pointedly. 

“Are you so advanced in age yourself, Marie?” Tilley asked in return. “Come, take a seat.” She urged Penelope. 

She found herself sat between a young man who seemed to be sleeping with his face under a book and an older woman who smiled kindly at her. 

The group had all brought pieces they were working on ranging from poetry to prose. Some pieces proved so raw and personal Penelope wondered how they could possibly read them aloud. 

“Does your friend have something she would like to read?” Lars asked, peering over at Penelope. 

“She does not, she only knew she was coming here minutes before-“ 

“-actually.” Penelope interrupted. “I do have something.” Several glasses of wine and a bitter black tea had been sent around the group and she felt at once bold and invigorated. “It is a letter.” 

Marie barely stifled a laugh. 

“It is an unsent letter.” Penelope continued. “I have not brought it with me but I have it memorised for the many times I have read it over, thinking of sending it.” 

Many of the group looked intrigued. The man beside her sat up, causing his book to fall into his lap. 

“Go on then.” Someone urged impatiently. 

There was nothing for it.

“This is my farewell.” Penelope began, unnerved by the quiet staring boring into her from around the circle. “The final letter I shall ever send to you. How I have been made your fool. The child of your eye. You write to share your far off sunsets and your dreams, to hear me tell you once more that you are astonishing. 

You told me you would always look after me and that I was special. But just like the archer sharpens his bow your words were honed to brittleness and when you thought me out of earshot you pierced me through with your mockery, describing loudly the distasteful wretch you find me. 

And the bitter irony is that you killed that child you saw me as. The little fool who thought love was real. The girl for whom sweet words of loyalty and devotion, secret touches and baring one’s soul could mean I was worthy of your love, that you saw me as something. But as the sun sets for you in Venice making you think fondly of the girl you left behind the cold eye of day here, wearily closes on her grave. She is not here for you. She will not wait. She is not loyal nor devoted. Now I can only wish you will continue to put the world between us and keep apart from me ‘till I forget.” 

The group broke into chatter, the criticisms coming as thickly as the compliments. Penelope laughed at it all. It was just an unsent letter after all. 

What seemed like hours later after the games and drinking and laughter faded, Tilley walked the man with the book over his face ahead of Penelope as she was the last of the group to leave. 

Penelope watched as they whispered to one another and kissed goodbye. 

Once he had left Tilley turned to Penelope. “He is a lover.” She explained. “Lord Samadani. He had reason to be tired today, he is usually more spirited.”

“I did not mean to pry.” Penelope quickly uttered.

“Did you not? Lady Whistledown?” Tilley smiled. 

Penelope winced. “Do not worry my brother Daniel, Lord Debling to you, did not know when the two of you met. He became suspicious hearing you speak, saying so many phrases that later appeared in your pamphlets and I had you followed. Your style as her is not one we in the guild are used to but you intrigued me so much I had to bring you in nonetheless.” 

“I do not believe Marie was glad I joined you today.” 

“Think nothing about it. Marie has her own reasons to be jealous of you.” 

Penelope bit her lip; she had not planned on Debling ever knowing her secret, even if they were married, as long as the Queen still searched for her. 

Tilley reached out and took hold of Penelope’s shoulders, “worry not so little writer.” She smiled. “Ten thousand is tempting but not enough for me or my brother to betray a fellow literary. You are one of us now, no matter what.” 

Penelope smiled in reprieve.

Colin gazed numbly out the carriage window the whole ride to their country seat. 

Somehow, he had been relegated to the head carriage, as he secretly called it, with Anthony, their mother and Francesca. Kate was in one of the slower ones needing to catch up on her rest.

The whole time he tried to drown out their happy schemes for welcoming the Earl (Fran already referred to him as John) into their family. Anthony insisted he play a game of pall mall if they were to really try his mettle. Violet suggested they start with dinner first. 

Colin wanted to hit his head against the door. He had forgotten to tell Penelope of his plan to save her. To give her more time before she had to make any decision on marriage. He had walked in on her conversation with El and he had found himself unable to speak a single word. And then his dream…everything left him so confused. He was not even sure how he felt about seeing her in a few days' time. He wished to see her, yes, but by then he had to decide what to say to her. The way she declared she would no longer have anything to do with him had seemed so final, too easy for her to say. 

The family dispersed to prepare for dinner and the Earl’s arrival. Colin headed straight to the nursery. He had been to Mondrich’s early that morning to pick up some fine brandy. He had even tried to pay for the bottle but had been reminded that as an investor now, he could take what he liked. 

In the abandoned room still stuffed with the memories of eight siblings he hid the bottle in a closet before going downstairs. 

Despite waiting until the late hours with the French doors flung wide, beckoning even the smallest of breezes, the house remained heavy with the heat of the day. 

The menu was stuck as it was too late for the cooks to change anything. So as they sat together, sweat on brows and breathing labored, a hot roast dish complete with potatoes was placed down by ruby faced servants. 

Mercifully for the Viscountess, the ride over had not proven sufficient rest and so she had retreated to her dark bed chamber. 

Everyone else was left to push their food around warily and attempt conversation. 

“I say this is depressing.” Benedict announced like a whip through the group. “What says everyone to moving out onto the terrace? I could have the cook make us all some cold drinks?” 

Violet did not wait for Anthony to defer the decision to their guest. She stood abruptly. “What an excellent idea.” She exclaimed, dabbing her forehead with a napkin. She walked ahead forcing everyone to quickly scramble to match her pace. 

Three drinks in, the night air finally began to cool. Conversation ebbed around the terrace. Benedict stood with the Earl and Fran discussing Scotland. Their mother and Anthony discussed something conspicuously, to do with their schemes no doubt and Colin found himself sat beside Eloise staring out into nothing. 

“I suppose you are still thinking about-“

“-yes.” Colin replied sharply. 

“How much of that did you hear, exactly?” She asked.

There had been more to hear? “I heard that Penelope never wishes to see or speak to me again once she is married.” Colin said.

Eloise bit her lip, thinking. “Does that bother you so much?” She asked. “You only know her because she was my friend.” 

Anger prickled Colin. “I will have you know I met her before you did.”

“No you did not.” 

Colin sighed. He always remembered details his siblings did not.

“It is not withstanding anyway.” Eloise continued. “You left for Eton and never had anything to do with her after that until you returned from Greece and suddenly the two of you were writing. That was only a year ago, you surely can let her go now.” 

Colin swallowed something bitterly. It was not true that he had forgotten Pen whilst at Eton. At first when he returned at half term there were still games. Then, as they grew, she would pepper him with questions of what he was learning and he would smuggle back books for her that he had promised professors he would return. He had always kept in touch with her, told her of his hopes to travel, and his favorite writers. True, he was not as close to her as El. But she had always been important to him.

“We have been friends our whole lives, El.” He said. “Even if you did not see it.”

Eloise swallowed. “I am sorry.” 

“Why are you sorry?” 

Eloise took a deep breath. “If I had known you would be this cut up I would not have told her she can no longer speak to you.”

Colin sat up. The memory of that night coming back. As he rounded the corner he had heard his sister demand such a thing. What gave her the right? “What happened between the two of you? I did not wish to pry before but as you have now dragged me into it, I believe I ought to know.”

Eloise screwed up her face. “I will not say.” 

Colin looked at his meddlesome little sister incredulously.

“Believe that I said what I did for your own good.” Eloise rushed on in a whisper. “Penelope is dangerous she-“ 

Colin cut her off with a laugh. Penelope? Dangerous? 

Eloise’s eyes flashed furiously at him. 

Colin’s mirth faded. He brought his voice to a serious volume, giving her one last chance. “What happened between the two of you while I was away?” 

Eloise shook her head. 

Colin leaned back, there was no point pushing the matter further. Penelope would tell him. “Then if you will not tell me I shall believe it was all you’re doing and Penelope is blameless.” 

“Fine.” Eloise hissed. “But do not come crying to me when the whole fantasy of her you have built up for yourself comes crashing to your knees.” 

And with that she got up and stomped away to bed.

“I believe I should head to bed as well.” Fran sighed “if tomorrow proves to be a cooler day then I shall need my energy to enjoy it.” 

Colin noticed only then that his mother and Anthony had also left already.

“Come, enjoy one last drink with us, brother. I am sure one more tale from our friend here and you will want to add Scotland to your next itinerary, though maybe leave off Gretna Green.” Benedict insisted.

Colin joined them on the edge of the terrace.

“Is there a story there I do not know about?” The Earl asked. 

“Indeed there is.” Colin admitted. “But I do not wish to offer myself up to be thought a fool so readily.”

“He was not a fool.” Benedict spoke across him as he handed the last drink to Colin. “He was simply young and in love.” 

Colin smiled. “I would not say love.” 

“You would not?” Benedict asked in a surprised tone that told Colin that his elder brother remembered exactly where he had been this time the year before. 

“No. In fact, I do not think back then I even knew what love was. believing that it needed to all at once take you over. I am starting to think now that it is far more complicated.”

Benedict shot Colin a look that clearly asked him if he had gone mad.

“I understand what you are saying.” The Earl proclaimed. “Though there is always something that strikes a man’s interest in the beginning whether it is her smile or her wit. Then, after that it is as though every conversation, every laugh, every glance fills your lungs the way air once did. You find yourself seeking her out at every ball, your eyes find her in the largest of crowds. You then realize you cannot live without her.” 

Benedict turned to the Earl. “Is there something you are trying to tell us?” He smiled. “About our most beloved sister, perhaps.”

The Earl finished his drink, “aye, there will be something I need to tell you all. It is only…”

“Only?” Benedict prompted.

“I am waiting for someone to join us here, with the rest of society. They hold a great deal of importance to me and I wish to know I have his approval before I make my final decision.” 

A great many carriages in greens and gold and blue snaked their way along the road to Aubrey Hall. 

This year’s ball was not just any ball. It marked Violet Bridgerton’s golden jubilee. Replacing the Hearts and Flowers ball a Masquerade had been announced, causing Madame Delacroix to try her hand at making half masks in the bevy of colors and designs requested from her. 

Penelope’s design was special and Genevieve had made her promise not to look at it until the night of the grand event. 

“Believe me mon cher.” She had said as Penelope stood for another fitting. “You will not be disappointed.” 

Most of the Bridgertons were either hiding in the family wing or were among the earlier flocks of guests on the grounds. Only Violet and the Viscount stood welcoming newcomers. 

As soon as they had risen from their curtsey, Portia forced both Penelope and Prudence into their quarters to “freshen up.” 

Penelope was put into a pink and blue day dress and Jane styled her hair in her preferred way. 

Portia grumbled at her. “If you will not allow me to tighten your curls, at least put on some family colors. I wish for us to present some unity if Prudence is to charm Lord Dankworth.” 

“Lord Dankworth is here?” Prudence asked, sitting up from where she wallowed on the bed whilst her mother and sister argued. 

“Fine.” Penelope snapped, picking up a yellow ribbon. But I shall put it in myself.” 

She did not want one single bow to spoil her day. 

The morning before everyone arrived the Bridgertons had all gathered in the drawing room of their family wing. 

Anthony and Kate stood before them. 

“We are sure you have all already noticed by now but the Viscount and I are expecting.” 

Colin was shocked. Had his mind really been so occupied?

“It is too far along now to keep hiding it.” Anthony explained, “so we are sure members of the ton will begin speaking about it.”

“And we shall do our best to make sure it does not detract from any other announcements that are to take place on this special night.” Kate said assuredly and gracefully.

It mattered not for Fran shot out of her seat and embraced the Viscountess, sobbing. “Oh let it detract!” She cried. “This is the most happy news.” She turned and kissed Anthony on his cheek.

Their eldest brother actually laughed. 

“Do you know if it shall be a girl?” Hyacinth asked, jumping up. 

“You only want it to be a girl so you might trick it into being like you. Besides, it has to be a boy.” Gregory argued. 

“Why?” 

“because their first child will be Viscount and only boys can be Viscount.” Gregory returned. 

“Oh I do hope they take after Kate in looks.” Fran smiled. 

“Hey!” Anthony admonished with a grin. 

Benedict who came to clap Anthony on the back added, “maybe as long as they do not get your ears then they can look however they like.” 

“I happen to like his ears.” Kate smiled. 

Colin congratulated them both with a hug. 

He felt good about the day ahead. 

As Penelope walked through the gardens: her mother, Prudence and Dankworth blazing ahead, she passed Wilding who smiled at her as he headed toward Miss Patridge who appeared to be waiting for him.

Behind them, a group that included Cressida Cowper stood and chatted. Cressida was wearing a rather large necklace of emeralds and talking loudly about how she hoped the Queen would make a surprise appearance and take notice of them.

As Penelope continued to watch them she noticed Lord Fife staring at her, he raised his glass with a smile that turned her stomach. 

“I dare say, is that a pond?” Dankworth asked cheerfully. “Do you think there may be ducks here as well?” 

“It would be an awfully good sign if there was!” Prudence exclaimed. 

“Psst” 

Penelope stopped walking. 

“Psst” 

She stepped towards a group of shrubs. A flash of blue peaked through the leaves. 

“Eloise?” 

Eloise’s hand beckoned for Pen to follow. She glanced at her family who were yards ahead and decided to follow El instead. 

As they walked together back to the house, avoiding crowds and lingerers Eloise whispered, “Colin has been asking about why we are no longer talking and why I asked you not to speak to him”. 

They reached the topmost storey.

“El, you know it is important that he does not know yet. Too many people do already.”

“Who besides me and Madame Delacroix are aware?” Eloise asked as she opened the door to the blue painted nursery.

“Lord Debling and his sister Lady Arnold.”

“You told him ?”

“No. Lady Arnold had me followed.”

“Pen? I-“

“-It is alright I have Lady Arnold’s word that they will not betray me. I have reason to believe Lady Danbury knows as well.”

Eloise closed the door.

“Do you know what will happen to you if the Queen discovers who you are?”

“Well the crown does send people to hang for stealing bread. Was what I did worse than stealing bread?” The joke did not seem to land. 

“I really thought you would go about this more cleverly.” Eloise said exasperated. “Have you a plan if the Queen comes for you?”

“I did not think you cared.”

“Of course I care!”

A very loud cluttering crash startled them both. 

Eloise rounded on the culprit, a wooden cupboard. 

“It seems someone has been here before us.” She said arising with a bottle. The French on the label indicated it was old but Penelope could not make out much else. 

“Who do you believe hid it here?” Pen asked, glancing at the door. 

“Benedict if I had to guess. And he never allows me to try anything more than wine. He says it is for gentlemen and dowagers.”

Eloise began to work the bottle open. 

“Do you not think he will notice it open?” Penelope asked, handing Eloise one of her hair pins.

“Yes but he will not suspect us.”

With a jab from the pin the bottle opened. Eloise sniffed the neck and pulled back. 

“May I try some?” Penelope asked, curious. 

Eloise seemed to think a moment before gesturing to the small table in the middle of the room.

Beside it was an even smaller table complete with a white tablecloth and miniature China tea set. 

Penelope leant over and plucked the two small tea cups from the table, she handed one to Eloise who poured the golden brown liquid from the bottle into each. 

“Cheers.” Pen said, warily lifting her cup. Pressing it to her lips she took a sip. 

Eloise tipped it back and swallowed it in one go, pulling a face afterwards. 

Pen continued to sip hers and Eloise poured herself another thimble sized cup. 

“What is your plan?” Eloise demanded.

“My plan, if word gets out, is to take what money I have left and flee to the Americas.”

“And if you are married by then?”

Penelope took one more sip.“If I like him, I might allow my husband to come with me.”

“Never to return to London? Does that not bother you?”

“Why should it? There is nothing for me here. My family barely notices me and you were my only friend. Did you not say you wished to never see or speak to me again?”

Eloise’s eyes flashed. “I said that at a time when I thought I would be able to see and speak to you when I was ready.” She poured another splash of the drink. “And what of Colin? He is acting strangely. He speaks highly of his friendship with you. I do not think he would allow you to simply disappear without questioning it.”

“I do not believe I will have to leave London. Anyone who is able to betray me could have done so by now and collected their reward. As for Colin, maybe to cure him of his curiosity I should tell him.”

“Tell him?”

“Yes, think of how harshly you reacted to finding out. I destroyed his chance at happiness with Marina, I damaged the one thing he holds most dear, his family. If I told him, I am sure he will never wish to speak to me again. Is that not what you wanted?”

Eloise bit her lip. “I am no longer sure. He is so adamant that you remain in his life.”

“Well either way I will not. I will soon be married and it would be a entirely against propriety for me to maintain our friendship.”

“Can married people not have friends? Could you not write to him? Would your future husband not allow even that?” Eloise seemed to be taking the matter rather personally.

Penelope felt emotion rising within her. She lifted her chin. “Even if such a thing was allowed, I would not do it?”

“Why not? He cares for you.”

“Not in the way you might think.”

“What does that even mean?”

Something snapped. “He pities me, El.” Penelope winced as her voice broke. 

“He does not. He thinks of you as his oldest friend.”

“There is more to my relationship with Colin than you know.” Penelope heard herself say the words but it felt as though she was standing on one end of a tunnel and the version of her speaking was at the other end, unable to be reached or stopped. 

“Like what?” Eloise scoffed, “It is not as though you are in love with him?” She snorted at the thought.

Pen remained silent. She finished her small cup.

Eloise’s mouth slowly hung open and her eyes widened. “Nooooo.” She said long and incredulous. Then in a higher pitch she asked. “Him?” 

Penelope opened her mouth. 

“Wait! How long?” 

“Do you remember when we first met?” Penelope asked, cheeks burning.

“Of course I had just had my birthday. You got in to trouble when you were caught climbing that tree with….noooo.” Eloise said again, clapping her hands over her mouth. “You were ten! That was…half our lives!” 

Penelope closed her eyes, a familiar tendril of shame rising inside her.

Eloise planted her hands on the table. “You have to tell him, you have to find out how he feels!” 

Penelope shook her head, sharp tears began to prick behind her eyes. “There is no point.” She said thickly. “I already know how he feels.

Eloise quickly filled their tea cups again and gave Pen’s back to her. “You told him?” 

Penelope shook her head. 

“What did he do?” 

“Last season. At my family’s ball after…I came looking for you. I was asking everyone if they had seen you. I saw him and I was thinking about asking him as well but then I heard my name. I heard it and I stopped to listen…What he said was not so bad but it was how he said it, he was laughing and so were the other gentlemen with him.” 

Eloise shook her head as though she could stop it all from happening. 

“He was asked if he would ever court me and he laughed and said he would not of course. But then he added that he would not, even in their wildest fantasies.” The words echoed in Penelope’s head as though she had heard them all over again. 

“The villain!” Eloise gasped. “He knew he was in your garden. Anyone could have heard him. To think he made me feel sorry for him!” 

A damn broke between them and tears began to flow down Penelope’s face. “I do not want to love him anymore, Eloise.” She said, helplessly. “I want to marry and forget him. I want to tell him who I am so he will never want to speak to me ever again!” 

Through a blur Pen could tell Eloise was crying too. “You know I think that is the first of your secrets you have ever told me.” She said.

“I know.” Penelope laughed as she continued to cry. “I feel I would rather people know I was Lady Whistledown than this. But I do not want to lie to you ever again, El.” 

In one movement both women came out of their chairs and rushed to each other, holding each other tightly as they sobbed. 

“I am  writing to Lord Crane in secret!” Eloise wailed and Penelope laughed. For all the secrets she kept, Eloise could never keep one. 

Penelope had floated to her room in a post tears daze. 

Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined Eloise would come so far with forgiving her. 

She felt she held something precious now. Eloise, like a flood, had poured all her secrets onto Penelope. 

Pen knew she could never again use anything El said to her in Whistledown. Only time would be able to prove to El that she could be trusted. But she knew she would prevail. 

“You are late.” Portia sang from where she was having her hair pinned elaborately. 

Prudence stood by the window, her stays had been tightly laced and she was admiring the effect in the reflection. 

“Am I?” Pen asked with a smile on her face. 

“What are you doing? Get dressed at once!” 

Jane opened the dress box. Inside was the deepest of navy blue silks. Almost black.

She was helped into it, the sheer sleeves falling wistfully on her arms. Black lace gloves were pulled on. 

Stars seemed to dot the bodice and skirt. 

“Well we have no jewels that will go with that.” Portia said, side eying the midnight gown.

“Never mind. Madame Delacroix has included something.” Jane said, picking up a smaller box. Inside was a pendant necklace of one sapphire so dark it was like night itself. 

By the time Penelope had put on her gloves and a simple silk half mask had been tied around her face, there was only time to pin her hair half up, leaving it to curl naturally around her shoulders. 

Both Prudence and Portia took her in with scrutiny. 

“It is practically immodest.” Prudence complained. 

“What does it matter?” Penelope giggled. “No one shall truly know it is me with this mask on.” 

Portia gave her youngest a curious look but said nothing. 

Colin had gone up to the nursery only to find his bottle empty. Inwardly, he cursed Benedict. The beefwit had to have found it.

He had nothing to steady his nerves for the night. 

The last time he had seen Penelope she had been masquerading as a white swan in his dreams. The last time he had seen her in the flesh he had walked away when she said she would never see him again once she was wed. 

He had decided that tonight they would masquerade again and he would tell her she need not get married. He would forget about his dream. 

Music swelled through the house from the ballroom. 

Anthony had insisted on a full orchestra for their mother’s jubilee. Throughout the halls the ton were gone, replaced by faceless figures in powdered wigs and gold laced gowns, in black and silver half masks and tails. 

Their finely dressed bodies pulsed and twirled on the dance floor whilst wine and punch flowed freely. Some sort of accident had happened to the lemonade and so wine was being poured more freely than at most events.

There was an electricity in the air, a quickness, as though everyone’s pulse beat as one, as though each breath taken fueled another. 

Just as Colin entered the swarm he realized he would have a very difficult time spotting Pen. 

Many donned wigs, more than a few were red and if she was wearing a wig it would not even be red he was searching for. 

How easy were the days when she was the only one in yellow. She wore all manner of colors these days. She did not even like yellow. 

“Looking for someone, brother?”

Colin jumped and turned to find Fran. 

“I am.” He admitted. “And you? Where is your Earl.” 

“I am searching for him. He promised me a dance, he said what he would be wearing but I am yet to spot him.”

“Where will you be? I shall send him your way if I cross his path.”

“I believe I should like a glass of punch so I will be there. Best of luck finding Penelope.” 

She slipped away from him, disappearing behind a girl in an eye-catching silver dress. 

Colin shook his head and continued on. 

As soon as she had come down Penelope had been taken to the dance floor. 

Whether it was reuniting with Eloise, the few sips of brandy, or having her identity concealed she felt emboldened and flirtatious.

“You do spin remarkably well.” She smiled at her partner as he guided her off the floor. 

“As did you. You must be parched, will it be a glass of punch or wine?” 

“Is there no lemonade?” 

“I am afraid not.” 

“Ah, well in that case then I shall have to make do with wine.” She smiled. 

The man left to fetch her drink and Penelope glanced around to be sure her mother did not have an eye on her. 

There would be no Whistledown story tonight. Eloise had told her the Earl was planning to propose but as Penelope aimed to keep her word, that topic would be taboo.

As for scandal, well that was all around her. People were being remarkably uninhibited. And for good reason too. She could not tell one person from another. 

A girl in an extraordinary silver gown walked past her vision. As if on instinct Penelope began to follow her, she found herself walking up the staircase after her when she was stopped.

“Pen? Ouch.” 

Colin, a few steps down, had been following her and evidently tripped in his pursuit. He had only just managed to  catch himself on the balustrade.

“Colin?” She asked in return.

He looked more like a prince than he ever had before. A half cape over one shoulder, his hair loose and waving to one side. A blue mask over his features.

As soon as he heard her voice his face split into a grin, she could not help but smile in return. 

“A dance?” He asked, straightening. “There is much I must talk to you about.” 

Penelope giggled and held out her dance card.

He took it to sign it but paused.

“I am sorry Colin.” She said, “My mother and sister made me come down with them so early and I was so bored and well…”

Penelope took out her fan and demonstrated how she had waved it in front of her bosom earlier in the night. “There were a few gentlemen down already and it is remarkably easy to smile and simper when one’s face is concealed.” She giggled.

Colin shook his head at her. “Let me see that card again.” He demanded.

She watched uncomprehending as Colin took the attached pencil and crossed out a name. It was not until he had written his own name in miniature above it that she gasped and snatched her wrist back.

“Colin, how could you?” She admonished. The name was quite hidden under his slashing lines and she could not for the life of her remember who it had belonged to.

“My apologies, Pen, let me see it, there may be a chance it can be fixed.”

She held her hand out despite knowing better. Before she could stop him he crossed out two more names and holding her wrist still he finished his signatures above each, just as he had done before.

“Three dances, Colin?” Pen snapped. “People shall think we are engaged.”

Colin stepped up until he was on the step just below the one Pen stood on. Leaning in close enough to kiss he whispered. “People may think so.” He leaned in even closer. “But it is not as though they shall know who we are as your face is concealed.” Then he stepped up past her. “See you down there.” And he bounded back down the other side, disappearing below.

The whole side of the ear he had whispered into had been left shivering. 

Colin passed a man holding two wine glasses, taking one he downed it in a single gulp and handed it back to him with an utterance of gratitude. 

Above the crowds doused in powders and floral perfumes, the musicians were readying their instruments. 

Colin’s eye was caught again by the girl in silver walking through the crowd and slipping onto the balcony. He thought to himself that if Daph were here she would wear such an eccentric colour. 

He looked around for another glass of wine, finding one on a table by the wall.

“I do hope you are not over indulging.” Came the voice of his mother. 

Colin turned around with the glass he had very much planned on finishing in a single gulp. “Of course not.” He put it down.

She was hanging on the arm of a very tall man Colin almost recognised. 

“You seem happy again since the ton joined us. I take it you have begun to resolve…things?” 

“Indeed, things shall soon be resolved.”

“Good.” Violet beamed behind a golden mask. “I do hope you keep in mind that tonight will be quite special for Franny and any other announcements can wait, we could hold another ball in f-“

Colin had felt the confusion showing on his face and the man with his mother seemed to notice as well. 

“Come, Violet, I must try this punch you have been telling me about. I am sure that any son of yours understands propriety well enough.” 

They quickly left before Colin could ask them what they meant. 

He turned to look for Penelope again to take her to the dance floor when Benedict burst forth from the crowd. 

“Are you in your cups, brother?” Colin asked as the man grabbed him by his shoulders. 

“Maybe a little, someone left a cognac open in the nursery. But that is not the point. Have you seen her?” 

“Penelope?” Colin asked.

Benedict looked as though he may shake him. “No. That would be you who is always looking for Miss Featherington. I am looking for the girl in silver.” 

“Oh.” Colin said. “She is out on the balcony.” 

Benedict raised his hands as though Colin had descended from heaven and he was at his mercy. “Thank you!” He cried before turning and moving swiftly in the direction Colin had pointed.

Colin sighed and made to move again to find Pen when the sound of sobbing caught his attention. 

He turned to see Fran weaving through the crowd, looking left and right.

He moved quickly to her. “What is the matter?” He asked in a hushed tone. 

“He is not here.” She responded shakily. “It is my favorite dance and he is not here.” 

“I am sure if he is not here then there must be a perfectly reasonable explanation.” 

“And what if that explanation is that he has changed his mind? I cannot lose him, Colin. I love him.” 

Frantic, Colin scanned the crowd on the remote chance that the Earl would appear from nowhere. 

He grabbed his sister’s hand. “There, is that not him?” 

There was a man of the Earl’s skin tone and stature in a cream and maroon jacket, his face obscured by a gold trimmed mask. 

Fran squinted at him. “He did say he would be wearing white. “That must be him, he always stands like that.”

She did not sound sure and Colin was not sure the Earl’s hair was so long. 

“I will come with you and make sure it is him.” He insisted. 

“Colin?” 

Colin turned to see that Pen had found him. 

He turned back to Fran who was smiling. “No. I am sure it is him.  I believe you are needed on the dance floor.” 

And with that she left. Colin watched as she and the man in the cream and maroon spoke briefly and made their way together onto the dance floor.

He sighed in relief. 

He took hold of Penelope’s hand and together they found their places.

Penelope loved the waltz.

How many she had watched on the edges of it all. 

This being the first of the night, it seemed every couple had joined. As they begun, she felt aware of every one of them.

She did not care one bit for Colin’s lessons of romance tonight. She wished only to dance beautifully and enjoy every moment of it. 

If there was one person who always danced without error, it was Colin. 

She matched him as he stepped. She did not have to think about it, her body simply knew how to do as his did. 

However, as the song lulled his stoic silence became too much.

“What did you wish to talk with me about?” She asked as he turned them in a perfect circle

“A great many things.” He started. “But I suppose I should start with the most important. You do not need to marry.” 

“Do not need to marry?” Pen echoed. 

“Yes, I spoke to Anthony, and he, well we could support you. You could stay out another season. Two, if you wanted to.” 

Penelope’s ears rang as she stepped in time with him.

“But I do not want to stay out.” She said to him simply. 

“But if you marry, you and I might no longer be able to stay friends.” He said as if that were the greatest argument in the world. 

Pen sighed. “I am sure we could write?” 

Colin squeezed her hand and did not relinquish it. “Can that be enough?”

“What do you want me to do, Colin? Stay a Spinster under your brother’s care so you can have me as a dance partner when the whim takes you?”

Colin pulled her back swiftly from her next turn. “Do you think so little of me that you think that is all I want?” 

“What else do you want, Colin?” She asked, tired of it all. 

Colin opened his mouth but nothing came out. 

“Besides.” Penelope said to grant him some mercy. “I wish to be married for more reasons than security and independence from my Mama.” 

“Such as what?” Colin demanded.

Pen paused. As confident as she felt behind her mask she could not say directly that she wished to be touched by a man in more ways than just dancing. She wished to be kissed. She wished for children. All things he could not give her. 

She stood on her toes to reach his ear. “When men travel do you not indulge in things good society would not otherwise allow?” She asked him in a whisper. 

“Pen, I do not catch your meaning.” 

“Women.”

She swore she could see deep crimson bloom across the high points of his cheeks. Even under his mask.

“Pen, I believe you greatly exaggerate my exploits overseas, I-“ 

“-not you.” She quickly interrupted. “Gentlemen. They visit the continent for such things, do they not?” 

“They do.” Colin admitted.

“Well we, women, we cannot…travel. We have marriage and that is all.” 

She spun again. 

Colin seemed to be thinking very hard. Understanding that he could not comprehend her meaning she added. 

“I do not wish to be a spinster who has never been kissed.” 

Colin nodded. 

“I see.” He said. 

They finished the dance in silence, her curtsying whilst he bowed. 

“Come with me.” He told her. 

Colin’s heart grew rapid. 

He had the most perfect plan and yet every inch of him screamed that it was a terrible idea. 

Swiftly, he led Penelope into the unoccupied parts of the house and through an unlit parlour of sorts. 

He sat her on a covered settee as he found a light and lit it and then another. He needed to be able to see her. 

He came and sat back with her. She looked tired, staring toward the window that reflected back nothing but the night sky. 

Her hair fell like a fan over her shoulder, he wished to reach out and push it back for her. 

“A lot changed for me on my last tour.” He told her. 

“Oh?” She asked. “Did you find your passion?” 

Colin blinked. It felt as though that conversation had been a lifetime ago between a different version of himself and a different Pen. “You remember that?” 

“Of course I do.” She said, moving to look at him. “I remember all our letters. You thought if you meditated long enough it would come to you.” 

“Well back then I was an idiot.” Colin stated, removing his mask and rubbing his eyes. “I learnt this time that a conversation with oneself leaves one knowing no more than they did before. This time I found myself observing others instead, listening to them about their lives and well, most do not live the way we do here, our many rules and scandals. It is quite stifling really.” 

“Why are you telling me this, Colin?” She asked warily.

“I only mean to say that of all the rules we live by, not being able to kiss before one is married is as redundant as the last. If you should wish to kiss someone nothing should stop you.” 

“As interesting a concept as that is Colin I-“ 

“And I should like to kiss you.” 

Penelope froze. She straightened, all sleepiness gone from her now. He could not mean that he wanted to kiss her out of passion or desire. He had made that clear. This had to have something to do with his panic over her leaving their friendship.

“If I understand. You wish us to kiss now…so I will not marry?”

Colin nodded, confirming her suspicions. It felt like bittersweet disappointment.

“Colin, no one has yet even proposed to me.” 

“Lord Debling will. How could he not?”

“And if he does, do you wish for me to refuse him and live off Anthony and only kiss you?” 

“I wish simply for you to have more time. Do you not wish to find someone who is truly right for you?”

“What if that is Debling?”

“You cannot be serious, you do not love him.”

“What if there is more to be gained from marriage than love?” 

“Like what?”

“Passion?” Colin uncoiled. “Children, Colin. What of those? There are many things you cannot offer me that marriage can. Many things I may not get a chance at if I wait until I am on the shelf. And what then? You will find somebody just as you did with Marina and I will not be left with even our friendship.” Her voice broke as she finished. 

“That is not…I would not let that happen.” 

She shook her head. He almost had. 

“I am glad that you learnt so much on your travels, Colin, but knowing that our world is strict and cruel does not change it. It does not free me from having to live in it.” 

“Pen, do not cry.” He said, panic rising in his voice. He took her hand and with his other he brushed her hair back over her shoulder. 

“I am not crying.” She insisted. 

He found himself reaching behind her head to untie the mask. He lifted it away from her tear lined cheeks. 

“You will truly marry then?” He asked, hollow inside.

“If I am asked. It is what I want to do.” 

“And of not speaking to me afterwards?”

“I shall always remain willing to speak to you should you wish to speak to me.” She stated. 

“Why would I ever not wish to speak to you?” He asked. Finding himself reaching up to wipe away her tears. “I shall miss dancing with you.” It meant to be a jest  but he could not keep the bitterness out. 

“I am sure you will have many partners to choose from.” 

“None can keep up with me as well as you do.” 

“You do not make it easy, you forget the length of your legs.” 

Colin stretched them out, “they did not used to be so long.” He allowed. “There was a time I was almost as short as you.” 

“Before you left for Eton.” She agreed. “Eloise was furious you came back a head taller.” 

“The tragedy was, I no longer fit in any of my old hiding spots.” 

“So you gave them all to me.” Penelope remembered out loud. “You stopped playing with us by then.” 

“Boys have to grow out of games eventually.” 

She laughed softly, catching his eyes with her own as she finished. 

There was something there. Many memories. The promise of it all teetering on a ledge, threatening to be lost forever.

Neither of them looked away. Neither of them wanted to.

“ Would you kiss me, Colin?” 

He did not make her ask again or demand for her to clarify. 

He took her face in his hands and closed what little space there was between them. 

His dream had done her no justice. 

Her breath hit his face the second before they met. Her lips were soft, touched with the salt of tears. Her skin smelt of every ocean he had ever stepped foot on and every warm night he could not sleep. 

Her body moved closer to him, she held onto his arms. 

He wanted to be gentle with her, wanted to hold back out of respect for her, but as she tilted her chin she let her lips part for him and the sweetest sound escaped her throat. 

He was lost. 

He surged forward. Coaxing her mouth open with urgency, tasting her, feeling her breathe in. Feeling her tongue move against his, her mouth pressing harder. 

The very air between them grew hot. Her fingers slid into his hair, gripping. He pulled back from her, ready to ask her if what they did was right but she pulled him back, kissing him deeper, earnestly, openly. They fell. Her tipping back and him coming with her until they were lying on the settee.

He felt his mind shatter into a million pieces. He did not know anything but this kiss. 

Then, she turned away, breaking it.

He slowly pushed away from her, helping her sit back up. They were both gasping for air. 

He watched dazed as she reached for her mask, putting it back into place with delicacy. 

“Thank you.” She said before getting up and leaving the room. 

Penelope shook as she walked briskly down the dark hallway. 

A million things she had never before experienced had taken place in her body and in her mind during that kiss. It had shattered her. 

She would never again be the same. She would always know. Would always measure any husband she had against that kiss and find them wanting. It was a cruel insistent fate she faced. 

The thought left her mind as she was stopped by screaming and shouting ahead.

Penelope quickened her pace. She paused, enshrined in shadow still as two figures stood outside an open door. “Come quick! Scandal!” The female shrieked. 

A man in a buttoned cream-coloured coat burst from the room and pushed past Penelope as he fled. 

They were adjacent to the ballroom and so the small space was already quickly flooding with people.

“And to think people said she should have been the diamond.” 

“Lightskirt.” 

“At her own mother’s jubilee.” 

Pen pushed through, her stomach roiling at the thought.

“Everyone get out of my way!” Violet Bridgerton’s voice roared as the crowd split for her. “Everyone has seen quite enough. It is over! This whole event is over.” And she turned to hold Francesca’s crying frame in her arms.

Many of the ton had managed to pack and flee that very night. 

Portia Featherington however had insisted on her beauty sleep and Prudence’s as well. That night Lord Dankworth had made his intentions clear and planned on calling on them as soon as they were back in London. 

“I do not see what the problem is. I was caught alone with cousin Jack in the orangery. And this year Harry and I-“ 

“-that is quite enough, Prudence!” Portia snapped, 

Prudence ignored their mother. “She shall just marry the man.” 

“Only no one knows who he is.” Pen told them. “And even if they did, she loves the Earl.” 

Portia scoffed. “Love, if she truly loved him then why go off alone into a room with a strange man?”

A knock stopped Penelope from arguing any more. 

She got up before either her mother or Prudence could get out of bed and answered it. 

Eloise stood there, eyes red and raw. “I need to speak to…oh you are already in your bed clothes.”

“I am.” Penelope agreed, stepping out and closing the door behind her. “But this cannot wait. Tell me what has happened.” 

“Come with me, we cannot talk out here.” 

They walked blind in the darkness, arm in arm to the light of the family wing. 

“I went straight to bed after our discussion. The drink in the nursery had made me sleepy. I awoke to Fran and mother crying. I cannot tell you how broken she is…” 

They came upon the drawing room. Light angling into the dark corridor. Wails still came from inside. 

“No one will believe me. Nothing happened.” She heard Fran’s choked voice say. 

Eloise beconed Pen to follow her at a creep. 

“We believe you. We will always believe you. No matter what happened.” Came Violet’s voice.

“Nothing happened!” Francesca replied at a hysterical pitch. 

The floorboard beneath Penelope’s bare foot creaked. 

Through the ajar door she saw Colin, whose arm was around his sister, look up. 

Whether he saw her or not she did not know. She continued to follow El.

Once inside Eloise’s bedroom they sat together on the floor the way they did as children. 

“How bad is it?” Penelope asked softly.

“Everything is quite the disaster. Fran keeps insisting nothing happened but mother seems dedicated to believing that something did. She keeps asking if he…forced himself on her.” 

“Oh El.” 

“I believe Fran. She never lies and she said he did not. But she will not say who the man was despite knowing.” 

“Perhaps it is because she loves the Earl? She does not wish to be forced into marriage with this man simply for being alone with him in a room?” 

“Anthony would not-“ 

“He would, to save her reputation.” 

“Blast it!” 

Penelope bit her lip. “I saw them El. I was there, passing the room, when they were caught, I saw the gentleman leaving.”

“Did you see who it was?” 

“No, I did not.” She admitted. “But I saw something else. Their clothing, not a button was out of place. Their masks were tied perfectly. Their hair was neat. There was no way they could have righted themselves so quickly had they been caught doing anything.” 

“But even if you said as much, who would believe you?” 

“No one is going to believe me .” 

Eloise gasped. “No, I cannot ask you that. Not after everything I have said.” 

Pen reached out and took her hand, squeezing it. “You do not need to ask me. I only need your permission and…”

“Anything.” 

“I need you to find out who the man was and why your sister was alone with him.” 

A few hours later as the cold sun began to rise over the country seat a small scrap of paper with a name and a word was pressed into Penelope’s hand.

Michael Stirling. Talking. 

All was quiet at the Bridgerton house. They had returned to a gloomy London apt to temperamental rain storms.

Kate refused to rest, blaming herself for not being present. 

Anthony did nothing but pace. 

Even Benedict did not dare utter a joke to lighten the mood. 

The day had dragged slowly into the gray afternoon and Colin had thought it would fade just as quietly into the evening.

He had already called for a carriage to take him to  Mondrich’s when something told him to look out the window. 

There below, in the space in front of the Featherington house a maid was walking quickly away. Alone. A strong gust of wind removed her hood and he watched as she fixed it. She did not wear the Featherington colors and her hair was long and red. 

Colin shot up and ran out the room. 

To his elation, his carriage was already stopped on the street. Without warning he leapt inside and ordered the driver to follow the maid in blue.

He was sure he had lost her. But as they neared the edge of the square he saw her disappear into a hired Hackney. 

Colin pounded on the ceiling. “Follow that Hack!” He shouted. 

They had not gone very far when they stopped in front of a townhouse and Colin instructed the footman to slow down. 

When Penelope returned to Mayfair she had begun writing at once. 

Many drafts and no sleep had finally rendered her something she was happy with. Still, she had to be sure. Had to be confident it would be enough to save Fran’s reputation. 

Using the one footman she could trust she sent for a hired hack and dug out her old disguise. Already Mr. Harris had been told he must meet with her at their drop off location. This could not wait.

But first, she would visit Tilley and get her opinion, and then, should no major change be needed, she would take it straight to the church. 

The hack waited for her at her usual spot and she entered it, paying the man, just as the first pearls of rain dropped from the sky.

The trip to Lady Arnold’s was short and Penelope hurried to her door, keen for the pamphlet to be put out quickly.

Already the heavens pelted her with the storm that was approaching above. Pen knocked on the door.

It was not Tilley who answered, but Marie who appeared to be wearing a man’s shirt and nothing else. 

“Oh, it is you.” The woman frowned.

“Is Tilley in?” 

“She is not, but I could get you someone else to read your…” she nodded at the draft Penelope clutched. 

“Please.” 

Marie disappeared inside and came back dressed with Debling. Who was now wearing the shirt Marie had removed. 

He took in Penelope’s outfit with confusion. “I need you to read over this and tell me what you think.” She said to him, trying not to notice or care about what was clearly going on before her.

Debling shooed Marie away and she went back inside with a huff of annoyance.

“Is this?”

“My next pamphlet? That is my hope, and I need it printed at once.”

“Are you headed to your publisher now?” He guessed, looking once more at her dress and at the hired hack waiting behind her. 

“I have a secret drop off location, it is not close by.”

“Let me grab my pen and coat and I shall accompany you.” 

Inside the hack, as they rolled through London, Debling read through her draft three times. Finally, he took out his quill and ink. Carefully dipping it, he brought it to the page, made two marks and handed it back to Penelope. 

She turned it over. It was a grammatical error she had let slip through and a singular word change. 

“Is that truly it?” 

“You are a splendid writer.” Debling offered. “This young woman is lucky to have you on her side.” 

“I suppose it is no great challenge writing gossip.”

The older man shook his head. “True, to write mere gossip is low fruit indeed. But to use gossip as a smokescreen whilst you hold a mirror aloft to a world that has had no mercy for you. Well, that is quite another thing.” 

Penelope felt struck. It was as though he had seen a part of her she had never intended to be seen. 

“Worry not. You are not transparent. It is only that I myself have tried and failed many times at what you have succeeded at before you are even twenty.” 

“Thank you.” Was all Penelope could say. 

Debling looked out his window and sighed. “About Marie…”

“It matters not.” Pen said quickly. “You are unattached.” 

“No, I am not attached.” Debling agreed. “But Marie is no mere triste, she is a concubine of sorts.” 

“Concubine?” 

“Yes, and I do not want you to worry. If we were to marry, you and I, I would be amenable to you taking your own lovers.” 

“I see.” Was all Pen could say. 

Thankfully they had reached the steps of the grand old church.

“This was not the place I was expecting.” Debling murmured.

“That is the point.” Penelope smiled. It had grown as dark as dusk descended but Mr. Harris’ carriage clearly stood on the corner. “Though there is a small clue to its importance. It is St Brides.”

Debling looked out again, realization dawning on his face. “The patron saint of writers. That truly is clever.”

Penelope smiled as she hurried to leave the confines of the carriage and trusted that Debling would follow behind.

The thick gray cover overhead was beginning to drop heavier rain. She worried her draft had taken too long and Mr. Harris would not be able to print it before morning.

She hurried up the steps and pushed open the heavy door. 

“I was beginning to question if you were coming.” The familiar gruff voice echoed from inside.

She turned back nervously to Debling. “He does not know who I am.” She explained in a whisper.

Debling gestured for her to go ahead.

Penelope stuffed herself deep inside and put on instead the persona of the maid she pretended to be. She walked down the aisle of the church with gusto.

“Do not mind my friend here.” She told the print shop owner sharply. “He was sent by my mistress to be sure this operation runs smoothly. We have an urgent delivery for ye.” 

“So I was told.” Mr. Harris stated, shrewd eyes flashing over the paper she handed him. 

“Now, has my mistress ever done you wrong with last minute deliveries? She is willing to offer a five percent increase, on this edition alone, should you manage a swift distribution.” 

The man seemed to chew on the offer as he turned the draft over to read the other side. 

“How swift?” 

“She will want it in the hands of all good society first thing tomorrow morning.”

Mr. Harris nodded. He handed the draft back over to Pen before turning to get out her money. 

She turned to smile at Debling in her triumph but he was not looking at her. He was instead staring at the figure concealed in the shadow by the grand door. The figure looking at her. He was looking at Colin. 

Colin had steeled himself to enter the church.

The whole time he followed the hack he had not even been sure the maid had been Pen. Even when he saw from a distance, Debling returning with her he could not reconcile what his friend was doing. 

They had rolled past everywhere he had expected them to go.

When they shuddered to a stop in front of a grand old church, his stomach had dropped. What were they doing here, alone? Was this an elopement under the secret cover of night? Would she really do such a thing? Not even allow him to talk with her after the kiss they had shared? An anger like he had never felt before seethed beneath his skin. What was Debling thinking to allow such a thing?

The only thing he could not explain was Pen’s strange manner of dress. 

The thoughts tore at him. Seizing his mind and not allowing him to think of anything else. He had to know.

So, softly and quietly, he made his way up the steps and 

pried the door open and stepped inside.

Some woman was speaking acerbically in a Dublin accent. Bossing about a man stood halfway down the aisle. It looked nothing like a wedding. Colin peered around for Pen and Debling; he could not see them anywhere.

Finally he spotted one. Debling sat alone on a pew nearby the arguing woman, watching the encounter, he turned to find Colin looking at him. His face fell into an expression of shock and then horror as he looked back at the woman.

Colin followed his gaze and noticed the blue. 

Her hood was up. She stood tensely but unafraid as she faced the grizzly faced man before her. 

Nothing about her was the Pen he knew. But he knew she was Pen.

The man handed something back to her before disappearing around the back of the church. They had come to an agreement.

Pen turned to look at Debling, her smile fading as she noticed him looking at Colin and ever so slowly, she brought her eyes to him.

Colin did not know what he expected her to do but he had not expected her to push him aside as she ran like a whirlwind down the aisle and out the door into the rain. 

Colin did not hesitate. Her shove had done nothing. He followed her, pushing the door open in his chase.

He did not have to go far. She had paused, looking up at the sheets of rain that were falling harder with every gust of wind. She clutched the paper close to her, seemingly unwilling to get it wet. 

Debling had followed them. “Now Bridgerton, I can assure you there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this.” 

“I will thank you to stop speaking.” Colin snapped. He could not resolve his fury at the man for being alone in a carriage with Pen let alone entering a church with her. “What are you hiding?” He demanded, taking a step towards Pen. She stepped backward, drawing closer to the rain. 

“Now Bridgerton I really think you should take a moment.” Debling reached out for his arm.

Colin whirled on him. “Do not touch me.” He roared. 

“Penelope, you will hand me whatever you are holding at once.” 

She shook her head. “Colin, you need to allow me to take this back inside, afterwards I will tell you anything you wish to know.” 

Debling opened his mouth to say something and Colin looked as though he might hit him.

“You should go.” Penelope said to Debling.

“Are you sure?” He asked and she nodded.

Colin watched as the blond older man reluctantly walked back down the steps and disappeared into the hack. When he looked back he found Penelope stuffing the paper into her bodice and making to sprint out into the rain.

Without thinking he caught her around the waist. 

She yelped. 

“Penelope, what is it that you are this desperate for me not to see?” He asked as he placed her back on the dry, upper step. 

She was shaking. “Please. She begged. If you see it you will hate me and I am not ready for that. I am not ready.” 

Colin’s insides tightened. There was no world in which he could hate Penelope. 

What struck Penelope was how gentle he was as he held her in place, in spite of her thrashing and pulling at him he did not tighten his grip nor did he let go.

“I will not show it to you.” She said to him defiantly.

“I will reach in and take it then.” He said in return. 

“You would not.” She gasped , thrashing all the harder. “You are a gentleman.” 

“Not.” He said. “Around you.” And with a deftness she did not know he possessed he plucked the paper out with but two fingers. 

She gasped. Frozen. There was nothing she could do. He was already reading it. Reading it in front of her eyes.

One by one every line and muscle of his face changed. Confusion, shock, realisation, anger, curiosity, more shock. 

She could not breathe. Her heart hammered faster than it should have been allowed to do. She felt her fingers grow numb and her legs grow heavy. 

“You are…” 

“Colin, please.” She whispered shakily. “Please just let me take it back inside. I promise I am trying to help Francesca.” 

For the first time since he had taken the paper his eyes snapped to hers. They were burning. 

Without a word he handed the draft back to Penelope. 

Before he could change his mind Penelope ran back into the church and made her exchange. Mr Harris thanked her and left, none the wiser to the drama that had unfolded outside.

She was in no hurry to leave again. She was sure that Colin would leave without her, abandoning her in the rain, forcing her to walk home.

But there he was, he entered the church and walked down the aisle toward her. 

“I will wait here for the rain to stop.” She said weakly.

“You will not.” He turned and walked out again. “you will come with me.”

Penelope followed as Colin walked lifelessly out into the heavy rain, allowing it to pelt him. He unlatched the door of his carriage and held it open.

“Get in.” He said, voice rough.

“Colin, I…” 

“Get in.” He said.

She hurried to join him. He did not move as she reached the step and without hesitation he helped her inside. The skin of his hand hot against her own.

Penelope sat herself in the corner furthest from the door. Trying to sink so far back she would not be noticed.

The first crack of lightning sounded as Colin entered and closed the space. He thumped on the ceiling to tell the driver to go. 

The small moving box was permeated by the smell of their rain soaked hair and clothes. 

Silence hung heavy between the gusts of wind and belts of thunder outside. 

She could not meet his eye.

Clear in her memory was the cold look Eloise had cast upon her: Insipid wallflower, indeed 

Penelope took a shuddering breath. She had to try to explain herself to him. 

“I never wished anyone any harm.” Her voice sounded strange. Too loud in the closeness between them. “That does not mean that I am unaware that I have caused harm…”

His eyes caught hers. There was no expression. 

“Pen.” Was all Colin said, taking a breath before trying again. “There is no distant relative, is there?” 

Penelope was confused. She stretched her mind to think of which relative he spoke of. 

“There is,” he said again, beginning to clarify, “no relation sending charity to your mother and sister.” 

“Well, no.” Penelope admitted, confused.   

He wiped his face as though he was trying to decide what, exactly, he was most angry about.

“Colin, tell me how you are feeling.” 

Suddenly, he was up and had come to sit beside her. 

He took her hand and to her absolute confusion, pressed it to his chest. “How could you possibly not know how I am feeling?” 

“Colin?”

“You did all of this? Alone? It was you this whole time. Pen I cannot…you are extraordinary.”

In one fluid motion he brought their mouths together. 

Immediately, her body thrummed with the memory of the last time they had kissed as his fingers dug into her waist. 

His lips were just as soft, just as open as that night. 

But something was different now, more insistent. More desperate. 

He needed her. 

She let her confusion subside and kissed him back. He was not angry and the relief she felt was immeasurable. 

She reached up and tore the bonnet from her head, tossing it to the floor. 

The heat quickly grew between them, burning up her skin as the kiss turned slow and long and reverent. 

His hand began to touch her through the thin fabric of her dress, moving slowly upwards. Squeezing through her bodice. Leaving her gasping. 

He pushed harder against her, coaxing her to lay down on the plush bench of the carriage. 

Her cloak was ripped away and discarded to lay with the bonnet. His mouth came to her neck, kissing a sensitive line down to her chest. 

She loved him. She knew that she loved him and she was angry because she knew that as much as she was made for him, he was made for someone else. Still, she did not want it to stop. She felt she could take whatever this was and maybe it would sustain her enough to live her life without him.

She pulled at him until he was above her, looking down, waiting to see what she wanted.

Wordlessly, she reached for his cravat and untied it, letting it fall to the ground. She took his jacket next, his waistcoat and finally, on by one she loosened his buttons. 

The whole time he watched her, letting her. 

With a push she removed his shirt, leaving him half naked. The sight of him alone snatched her breath away. 

For anything she had allowed herself to imagine before had not done him justice. He had the body of Adonis. 

He dipped back down to kiss her, his tongue pressing against her own. She moaned wantonly into his mouth. She could not help it. Did not want to help it. She wanted to remember everything about this. 

She pushed her hands into his hair, delighting at the silken grasp on her fingers. 

He groaned and rolled his hips against hers. She broke their kiss with surprise. She had not been expecting what she had felt against her. 

“I-“ he started and she was sure he was going to apologize and so she swallowed the words as she reignited their kiss. Without shame she lifted her hips to press against his, needing to feel the shock of pleasure that he had caused before. Her whole body burned, a fire licking its way to her toes as he rolled against her again and she could feel again how hard he was.

His mouth moved slowly over her jaw and to her neck. She moaned and arched her head backward to give him greater access. 

There was a heavy wetness growing between her legs. A pulsing that intensified every time he moved against her.

His teeth grazed the skin of her neck. She gasped again. 

She found his hand snaking around her back, moving down from button to button. 

As each one released, he kissed lower until her bodice slipped away from her shoulders. 

Pen held her breath. She watched him as his lips trailed down. 

He glanced up, reminding her to breathe. “Will you let me?” He whispered, lips grazing the top of her stays. 

“Let you do what?” She asked breathlessly. 

His hand came up to cup her breast as he leaned down to kiss perilously close to it. 

Penelope moaned. “Yes.” She said. 

Her stays slid down. 

She shuddered as the cold air hit her skin. Then again as his lips grazed against her breast.

“Is this okay?” He whispered again. Breath hot against the dampness he had left. 

She nodded. 

He returned his mouth, tongue tracing around her nipple, his hand squeezing her other breast. 

She lifted her hips. Desperate to feel his hardness again and he complied, bringing his hips down to her and grinding against her once more. 

Everything tightened inside Penelope. Every part of her was on fire, his mouth, his hand, his hips, every part of him was undoing her completely. 

All she could do was breathe. She wanted to cry from the pleasure of it. Wanted to scream.

“Colin!” She gasped, broken, as he dragged his teeth against her breast. 

“You are perfect.” He whispered against her skin. 

His hand came to her leg, pushing back her skirts. Running a searing line up the skin of her inner thigh. 

She had never before touched herself like this. She tensed as his fingers traced her skin. 

He moved away. 

“No. Do not stop. I want you to touch me.” It came out before she could stop herself. 

He looked up at her, eyes glazed and dark, mouth agape. He came back to her and kissed her, deep and desperate.

As he did his hand once again moved up her thigh and touched her. 

Penelope groaned with desire, unable to believe just how much pleasure she was able to feel in just one moment. 

His hand moved against her, feeling her over the fabric of her undergarments. She let her teeth graze his lips and along his jaw. Her hands moved over him, trailing over his chest and abdomen. She buried her face against his neck to stop from screaming. 

She never wanted this to end. 

Colin froze. 

Her head shot back. 

They had stopped. 

Oh God, they had stopped. 

He pushed away from her. 

They had definitely stopped.

In unison they became frantic, he dove for his shirt as she yanked her bodice back into place. 

Already, Penelope could hear the driver walking around to their side door. She threw her cloak back over her shoulders. 

“One moment!” Colin half shouted, half screamed as he threw his waist coat back over his half buttoned shirt. 

“I shall get out first.” She said to him, “You are nowhere near as presentable and I can run inside without being seen.”

His hair was a mess and his lips were flushed and yet he still tried to retie his cravat. 

“No. Wait.” He said, reaching for her. 

“It is too late to ask the driver to keep going.” Penelope pointed out half-hysterical, though she believed that would have been a fantastic idea about five minutes ago. 

“No.” Colin said incredulously. “That is not why I…I wish to come in as well.” 

“In where?” 

He finished his cravat in a frustrated knot and threw on his jacket. 

“I need to ask you to marry me.” He said as he worked at his buttons. 

Penelope stared back, perplexed. 

There was a knock at the door. “Is everything alright in there, sir?” 

“Yes! One moment!” Colin returned. He turned to Penelope and took her hand. “Are you alright?” He asked her, finally seeing the expression on her face. 

She shook her head. “I did not expect you to say that.” She said, the feeling of coldness spreading through her body. 

“Well what did you think I was going to say?”

She shook her head again. “Anything but that.”

“A gentleman does not behave as I just did without offering a marriage proposal.” He told her.

Penelope felt sick. “You are not obligated.” 

“Obligated?” 

“I will not enter into a marriage of obligation.” She insisted. 

“Obligation? Penelope, no one caught us.”

“No, but you feel your honour is at stake.” 

“Penelope, help me to understand, I-“ 

“You do not love me!” She said, exasperated. 

Colin closed his mouth. His lack of denial was all she needed. 

“I already knew you did not love me.” She told him quietly. “I did not always know it, but there was no denying it the moment I heard you laughing about me with those other gentlemen.” 

“Pen...I-“ 

“Do not try to deny it. I was there the night of my family’s ball. I heard you, when Lord Fife asked if you were courting me.”

Colin grew still and pale. 

“ I would never dream of courting Penelope Featherington .” She recited for him, the first tremors of emotion in her voice. “ Not in your wildest fantasies . How am I supposed to marry someone who laughs at the very thought of courting me? What would people say? What would they think?” Her voice had almost disappeared. 

She shook her head, the tears she held back blurring him into nothing, a shadow. 

“I did not write what I did about Marina, Colin, for you to end up in a loveless marriage with me.” 

And with that she burst out of the carriage and ran away inside.

Chapter Text

1814, the end of the social season. 

The night was dark and full of energy as the jovial men sought refuge outside, grouping themselves away from the gilded ladies. 

“Well they were not very large.” Fife chortled, referring to Miss Goreng. “It is always a great disappointment once you get them undressed to find them to possess so little. Still, it is one of the few joys of courting, getting them alone.”

Colin smiled through the disgust he felt. Fife had always been his peer since his Eton days. He was a man who clung to whatever popularity he could grasp and viewed even well bred ladies as a means to get him even more. 

“I do not suppose you would find such disappointment with your girl, eh?” He sneered, looking straight at Colin.

Colin had another goal for this night, to urge the men to come with him to Mondrich’s club. Otherwise he would have walked away right then. He swallowed his pride. 

“Penelope Featherington?” He guessed, wondering in panic whether Fife had seen him take her into her family’s drawing room. He would surely draw conclusions from that, which would only serve to harm Penelope’s reputation beyond repair.

“The way you were dancing with her tonight looked rather…interesting.

Colin’s panic rose but he forced a calm smile onto his face. “Ah.” 

Are you courting the girl, Bridgerton?”

Relief that they had not been caught flooded through him. He aimed to swiftly put the idea to bed. “Ah, are you mad? I would never dream of courting Penelope Featherington. Not in your wildest fantasies, Fife.” 

For he surely would not court anyone in the way Fife saw fit to court young ladies. 

The men laughed good humouredly at the way he had shut Fife down. Some even teased him, suggesting that he would come around to the idea.

Colin waited for them to calm themselves. “Now, if you gentlemen are looking for a drink elsewhere, I have the perfect location for you all.” 

As fireworks exploded overhead, Colin led the group of sordid gentlemen away from the Featherington estate.

Dearest Gentle reader,

Many of you have been wondering what might the Bridgertons have done to be exiled from my pages all season. Well, might I suggest to you all that it is not what they have done that has kept them at bay, only what they have not done. For never has such an attractive and popular family proven so illustriously boring. For two seasons gone the elder siblings have rather predictably found and secured the famed love match with perfectly suitable candidates. What makes any of you believe this season was to be any different? Oh to be sure, when it comes to matters of the heart there are mishaps that will inevitably arise, but has any mishap that has faced the Bridgertons been any more scandalous than those faced by anyone else? And yes, dear reader, I do include those not yet published by your beloved author. 

And that brings me to Miss Francesca Bridgerton. If my knowledge of the alphabet serves me well, the sixth sibling in a line of hopeless romantics.  Possessing every bit of breeding, chasteness and innocence as her sister Daphne. And every bit, might I add, as boring. I am dreadfully sorry to disappoint but far from a sordid tale, Francesca Bridgerton is embroiled in nothing but a true love match with none other than Jonathan Stirling, one Earl of Kilmartin. Yes, the same Earl who has been predictably courting our favorite debutant all season. Who was the man she was seen with inside a room with the door not cracked wide enough for one tenacious and meddling Cressida Cowper? His cousin. One Michael Stirling. Whilst I unfortunately was not in the room with them to hear the nature of their conversation, the perfectly dressed and presentable manner they were found in tells me one thing. It was most probably a discussion of blessings. A final interview conducted by the Earl’s only remaining family before our ton would have no doubt witnessed a most romantic proposal, indeed. How sorry we have all been left, when that magical end to the evening was cut short by salacious shrieks of scandal. Only to realize in the cold light of day that there was no scandal to be had. 

Everyone in the Bridgerton house was overcome with happiness, bar one. 

They had been saved. 

Just as the latest Lady Whistledown had circulated through everybody’s hands, a coach with the Earl’s insignia pulled into place outside. 

“Is that truly him? Is it John?” Francesca asked, leaning over Colin to look out the window. 

“Do you suppose all has been forgiven?” Violet asked, placing her hands over her heart. 

“There was nothing to forgive!” Eloise snapped.

Colin groaned inwardly. He had not slept a wink since returning just after midnight the night before and he was not in the mood to witness another proposal. 

Still, fate laughed as the Earl was let up. In a perfect scene they reunited and in front of every one of her family members Francesca was asked to become John Stirling’s wife. 

Penelope had insisted on taking a bath before coming down to break her fast. 

At completely unexpected intervals her skin played the memory of Colin’s touch, his lips and breath ghosting their way across her body. Causing her to shudder involuntarily. It seemed every time she shut her eyes she would see his blazing back at her, see his open mouth form a small smile before lowering. She had to stop.

No amount of lemon and chamomile soap would rid her of the feeling. 

Overly scrubbed and clean she came down to find the drawing room occupied. Debling was waiting for her and upon the other couch sat Lord Dankworth and her sister. 

Their mother, evidently, had drifted off beside a tray of biscuits. 

She smiled at Debling and sat beside him. 

“How did things go after our interruption yesterday?” He asked quietly. “I came over as early as I could to ensure you are not about to be exposed.”

Penelope frowned. “You know. I still am yet to get my head around it all.” She lowered her eyes. 

“I take it he will keep your secret?” 

She nodded. 

“Then that is all that matters.” 

She looked up and met his eyes. Had he guessed at what had happened between her and Colin after he had left? 

“I came here hoping to ask you something today.” He continued quietly. He reached for his pocket.

“-Colin asked me to marry him.” She blurted. “And I refused him.”

Debling looked taken aback. They sat in silence as he took his time to ponder her words. “Why did you refuse him?” He asked softly.

“Because…every Bridgerton desires a love match and he does not love me.”

“I thought you were not looking for a marriage based on love?” 

“That is just it. A marriage with him would not be a marriage without love.”

“Ah.” Debling said, catching onto her meaning. “I see.”

“I am sorry.” 

“Sorry because you love him?”

“Sorry because I fear I gave my refusal too rashly.”

Debling’s face became drawn as he nodded. “I take it you wish to end our courtship?” 

“I know he does not love me and before last night I thought there would never be a chance he ever could. I was ready to dedicate the whole rest of my life to forgetting him but…”

“Now his proposal has you thinking there is a chance he might love you back, if not now, then one day?” 

Penelope nodded.

“Oh my God! Yes! Yes I will marry you!”

Their somber conversation broke as Prudence lept from her seat and held her hand out to Dankworth who was bent on one knee.

Their mother sat up with a mighty snore and looked around dazed.

“Look Mama! Look! I shall be a Lady!” Prudence squealed. “Lady Featherington!” 

No one had the heart to correct her. 

“That would be my cue.” Debling said, standing up. “I believe arrangements must be made for my next tour.” He turned to Penelope. “Unless something changes within the week?” 

Pen nodded at him, grateful for his grace and watched as he congratulated her sister and the younger Baron. 

Penelope watched him go but was distracted as a very large Ruby ring was pushed up to her face.

“Is it not divine?” Prudence asked. 

Colin could not bear to return to his bedchamber once the Earl had left. 

In there was Penelope. Not in the flesh, of course, but incorporeally. 

Every time he lay on his bed she came to him. The sound of her soft gasps, the whisper of her smooth skin underneath his fingers, the feel of her breast against his mouth. Oh God. He could not believe he had done that. Been so brazen. Overstepped so much. 

As much as he told himself he was not like Fife and the others, he had proven himself no better. The way he had reached under her skirts and - oh god the warmth of her against his hand the - 

He quickly cut his thoughts off again, shaking his head violently. 

“Is something the matter, dear?” His mother’s voice called from across the nearly empty drawing room.

“I am afraid I did not sleep adequately last night.” He told her, rubbing his eyes. 

“Oh, my poor dear boy.” She crooned as she entered the room and walked over to him. “Tell me what troubles you.”

Colin looked at her. For a moment of insanity he considered telling her. Saying how he felt about Penelope, that he compromised her and now she refused to marry him.

But that would require telling her how exactly he had ended up alone with Penelope on the wrong side of London. 

He could not do that. 

“How is Penelope?” She asked, seemingly from nowhere.

Colin started.

“I only ask because the two of you have been spending so much time together. I saw you dancing the night of my jubilee. She really is such a lovely girl, matured quite a lot, I have noticed.” 

Colin swallowed dryly. There was one thing he could tell his mother. “I am afraid Penelope does not wish to spend much time with me currently, and for good reason.” 

“Oh Colin, what did you do?” Her face was vexed but her voice remained sympathetic.

“I…it was a while ago, last season in fact. I misspoke and she was in earshot of my conversation. She overheard me saying something I did not mean.”

“I cannot imagine you would have said anything that could have caused much offence. You have always been so fond of her.” 

Colin decided to come clean.

“Some gentlemen queried if I intended to court her…only, I know their kind and I did not think they meant well by asking. I emphatically denied that I ever would and I am ashamed to admit I had overindulged and was laughing as I said it.” 

Violet put a hand to her cheek and shook her head. “And Penelope heard all this?” 

Colin nodded. 

“Oh, I cannot imagine! That would have broken her heart.” 

Colin’s stomach twisted. “I did not mean it.” He repeated weakly. 

Violet reached out and took his hand. “Often I find, when we say things we do not mean, instead of using more words to try and undo the harm, it is better to show, through one’s actions, what was truly meant.” 

“I would not know where to start.” 

“I do believe flowers are customary. I would suggest a rather large bouquet.” 

Colin looked at her in surprise. 

“You do mean to court her do you not?” 

He did not answer for a while. “Do you believe I should?” 

Violet’s face broke into an amused smile. “My dear, I have been wondering how long it would take you. She has been your closest friend for the longest time.” 

“Flowers?” 

“Maybe something bright and yellow?”

“No. Not yellow.”

The afternoon shook into another mighty storm, this one rivaling the previous night’s with the way the wind hammered down the streets of Mayfair, bringing with it all the heavens’ water. 

Penelope should have stayed put, waited for a break in the storm. However, if Prudence waved her ghastly ruby in her face once more she would scream. 

She had only a half-cocked plan and determination. Without even a cloak to protect her she slipped out the back of her house. 

Every step of her slippered feet drenched them as the piercing rain pummeled her cheeks. She had to bend over double against the wind that tore at her thin, dark green dress, soaking it almost black. 

All around her, her hair whipped as she half stooped, half ran across the square, plastering to her cheeks and the back of her neck. 

Still, she arrived at her destination alive and in one piece, in spite of the shivering.

Going around the back she slipped inside. First, she had to find Eloise. She would have to tell her about the situation and then beg her to distract Colin. Penelope needed to find the journal she had seen the night they had practiced dancing and if he had not left it in the informal drawing room then she suspected she would find it in his chambers. And to look she needed to ensure she would not be interrupted. 

“Miss Penelope Featherington?” 

She had crossed paths with Mrs. Wilson. 

Penelope greeted the housekeeper with all the politeness she could manage given how hard her teeth were chattering.

“Might I help you with something?” The woman asked. 

Penelope nodded. “Eloise asked that I call on her as soon as I was able. I am afraid I was in such a rush I did not prepare for the weather.”

“Evidently.” Mrs Wilson noted, looking her up and down. “I am afraid Miss Eloise is caught at the modiste with her mother and sisters, it has been a happy morning here, indeed.” 

“I see.” Penelope shivered, not sure if the housekeeper would kick her out. 

“We are all very much relieved that you girls have made amends. I will not miss the door slamming, why don't you head up to the drawing room and try drying yourself by the fire, can I arrange some refreshments for you?” 

Penelope shook her head, unable to believe her luck. “I will wait but I will not require refreshments until Eloise returns, I had a rather large breakfast.” 

She watched Mrs. Wilson disappear into the kitchens before she continued on.

The drawing room was full of evidence of a Bridgerton gathering earlier that day, a plate of half eaten biscuits sitting on a stack two cushions high, a game of chess left unfinished and newspapers folded hastily. Penelope tiptoed around the room, conscious of dripping on everything. 

She lifted an unfinished cup of tea off what turned out to be only a volume of Cassandra . 

Nothing. 

Every cushion turned over, every table looked over and under. He must have taken it out after the night they danced. 

She chewed her lip as she let the fire begin to dry her. 

She only knew that the Bridgerton women were at the modiste, where Colin and his brothers were was unclear. 

Still, she had the advantage of knowing where his bedchamber was based on the days she was still young enough to race through the halls. 

She could get in quickly. If she could find it, maybe it would tell her something, help her decide if refusing Debling was a mistake, or if there was a chance of something more. 

She shifted on her feet, working up the courage, wanting to see if anyone or anything would stop her. 

Swift and silent she found the door she was looking for. Opening it, she was washed by his scent, warm and masculine. 

Like a whisper she closed it behind her. It felt reminiscent of entering a place of sacred worship. Her very footsteps, a transgression against the sanctity of the place.

It was so like she had imagined it, messy and eclectic, oddities from afar on every surface, piles of papers and quills. That would not make her job easy. 

She began at his desk in the corner, scattered with the instruments of writing, a copy of Flora Graeca was all she found under a pile of parchment. 

She spread out her search looking over the mantle, the tables beside his bed, even under the bed and beneath the pillows. 

As she was walking back to his desk, determined to find a hidden compartment or false drawer she tripped, her foot bringing back the corner of his rug with it. 

She turned around to put it back into place but paused. A faint memory of loose floorboards playing in her mind. A trove of treasure which had sparked her to search for such a hiding spot in her own home. 

Was she misremembering?

Penelope pulled the rug back even further and felt around. There, sure enough was a loose board and with a little maneuvering, she had it lifted up.

It was everything she was searching for.

Stacks of letters wrapped in twine, palm sized boxes, a velvet pouch of something loose and journals. At least three. 

Penelope carefully leafed through the contents, trying to determine which bound book was the one she had seen that night. 

She decided to peek at the smallest and least descript. Opening it, she was sure her hunch was correct. She had mistaken the scrawl for Eloise’s as it was messier than their previous correspondence, though looking at it now, it was not as messy as Eloise’s hand. It even slanted in the same manner as the hand she was familiar with. 

This would tell her. What had he written about her? How did he truly think about her when no one was meant to see? Why did he ask her to marry him when he would not court her? Why was she special to him yet did not count? Why had he met with her cousin so boldly, flirted with her openly, and yet with her, all was hushed, behind closed doors. 

She was prepared to be hurt, expected to be. 

Penelope 

There it was, on the first page she looked at. 

I wrote again to Penelope today. I have lost all hope now of any correspondence in return but I found I was unable to help myself. It seems she is the only hope I have to find joy when loneliness overwhelms. On my last travels her word could turn every sadness into laughter..,

Penelope turned more pages, looking to see if he would mention her again. 

On the very next page:

22 February 1815 Valencia, Spain

I find myself dreaming of home and of Penelope. The people here cannot possibly know the longing for a perfect day after a week of rain. Here, every day is perfection. The sky always cloudless and the nights warm. For the first time I slept comfortably until daybreak and I believe it is because she was with me…

She turned to the next page.

I have almost forgotten her now, Lady Crane. If only I could forget what she told me about Penelope. That I would always have her in my life. It seems strange that this might be another broken word from her. 

23 February 1815 

I met a man today, all the way from the jamaicas. He told me that the only way a man might endure life’s tortures is to look to the future and see who is there waiting for him. It seemed so much like something Penelope would say I considered writing another letter. I told him all about her and how she taught me that one’s life’s purpose should not be a reflection on who one is but rather challenge them to be more than they thought themselves capable. He thought she sounded a magnificent woman indeed and I found myself agreeing. 

Penelope was almost ready to give up. These passages spoke of fondness, nothing more. She went to close the book but decided to skip to the final page. 

… I suppose it is selfish. I am glad that Pen and Eloise seem to avoid the marriage mart. It is a constant in my life, being able to return, knowing Pen will always be there. I believe many years of travel lay ahead for me as I am young yet. But once that challenge is over I wonder, if she has not married, could I not convince Penelope that we could wed? It is a far off thought, something she would laugh at to be sure, if I were to mention it. But the thought of another trip as bleak as this, without a single word from her, is so disarming it makes one ponder how much bleaker a life would be with that same absence. 

Penelope could barely breathe. She had as many questions as she did answers. She had had no idea what valuable secrets would lie inside the little book. She knew she had been on his mind. That he missed her. He even considered marrying her so he would not miss her again. But was that love? Or the potential for it?

She reached out to put the book back. 

“What are you doing?” 

She froze. 

“What are you doing here?” He demanded, voice even. Dangerously so. 

Penelope turned to face him, not getting up from the ground. “I-I am sorry.” She stuttered, placing the book back and replacing the floor board. 

Colin put something he was holding down and moved deeper into the room.

“What were you doing with my personal letters and journals?” He asked.

“Your journal, you left it open the other night in the drawing room and I-“ 

“-that was not intended as an invitation for you to read it.” 

“I know. I only thought it was Eloise’s at first because I saw my name.”

Colin seemed to grow pale. 

He sank to the ground next to Penelope and removed the floorboard again. Looking at the contents within. Checking why she had touched.

“I am so sorry, Colin. I only wanted to see what you wrote about me.” 

He would not look at her. “Did you ever stop to think that what I wrote about you in private was never meant to be read.” 

“I know and I regret so much reading it now, I was left even more confused than before.” 

“You thought you would find answers reading my private papers? What on Earth gave you that idea?” 

Her eyes snapped to his. He was looking at her now and she could only see his mask of disapproval.

“I broke my courtship off with Debling. He is planning on leaving London. I - needed to know what you had written about me in case there was even the slightest chance you felt something more than friendship.” 

“This is the journal you read?” He asked, picking it up. “And I take it you skipped to the last page first.”

“Not exactly first.” Penelope mumbled as Colin read it. 

He smiled. “Well I suppose my wanting to marry you is no secret to you now. Though I am upset you chose this of all my journals to read. It is nought but nonsensical ramblings I wrote when I could not sleep.This one contains much more refined entries.” He said, pointing to a larger volume, “though you would find yourself mentioned less.” 

Then he reached into the pile of letters. “If you truly wanted to read about how I feel about you then these are - ow!” 

Penelope jumped at the sound of Colin’s pain.

He lifted his hand from the pile to show a wound gushing with blood. 

“Oh! Your journals!” She gasped, reaching forward to pull his arm away from his hiding place.

“I must admire your attentiveness.” He said somewhat faintly. As she held his arm up.

“Can you get up? Can you stand?” 

“I believe so, the blood appears to be coming from my hand and not either of my legs.”

“Come, sit on your bed in case you faint.” 

Despite being quite certain she would not be able to hold him if he did lose footing, Penelope kept a dutiful arm around him until he was seated. 

“We need to find something to wrap this.” She insisted. Looking at the blood pooled in the palm of his hand. 

“I do not have a handkerchief with me, I am afraid.” He grimaced. “But you could remove my cravat as you did last night.” 

A bolt of electricity shot through her. Did he need to mention last night? She chewed her lip.

“It is alright.” He said quietly and tipped his head back.  

With careful fingers she untied the piece and freed his neck, trying not to feel the pulse of his heart through the fabric. Then she wrapped it around his hand.

“Does it hurt?” She asked, looking only at the task she was performing . 

“It hurts.” He admitted. She looked up to see him giving her a wobbly smile. “But no worse than what it looks like.” 

“This is all my fault.” She whispered.

“That I reached into a pile of letters and sliced open my hand on an unseen letter opener?”

“I should not have come in here.” She pointed out softly. Then added, “I will go.” And made to get up. 

Only she had not fully stood when she was pulled back down by his good arm. 

“No.” He said. “No. I want you to stay.” 

She turned back to him. Was something the matter? Was he only joking when he said his hand looked worse than it felt?

“Stay.” He said again. 

She felt her heart rate pick up. There was something in his eyes, something hungry. 

He leaned toward her, voice lowering to a horse whisper. “Stay.” 

“Colin, I-“ 

“Stay.” He said again before their lips met. 

Colin left the house agitated before the rain had stopped.

Luckily, the footman had brought a carriage around and he had got in.

It was not the carriage from the night before but that did not stop the onslaught upon his senses. The memories of what had happened.

To court her? He did not even know if she would accept it given the way she had reacted to his proposal. But it seemed so simple and common sense when his mother had suggested it. 

He had always thought the point of courting was to get to know a young lady, to woo her before she had a chance to see one’s imperfect underbelly and in turn win her favor enough so when she did inevitably see one for who he was she would not want to flee.

Penelope already knew who he was, underbelly and all, and now finally, after last night, he knew her too.

But now he wondered if there could be something more to courting. If it could, in fact, be a display of respect, a way to make someone he truly cared about feel cherished. 

He did not mind going slowly with Penelope, playing by society’s fickle rules if she did, by the end of it, feel he revered her. 

Once at the flower shop he fretted over which arrangement he should have made. Debling had already given her Dianthus and he had not thought to ask what her second favourite flower was. 

Eventually, a frustrated shop assistant appeared before him and demanded what it was he wanted. 

“I wish to court someone I have known for a very long time.” He began. 

“Yellow roses for friendship perhaps?” 

“No. Not yellow roses. She is more than a friend, she is someone I revere and cherish. I wish the bouquet to say nothing of friendship. In fact I wish it to display the feeling one has when they cannot imagine living a single day without a person, something that says that when they are not near even the most beauteous paradise becomes clouded and mundane, that as wild and unpredictable and sometimes frustrating as they are you know nothing they ever do will dampen the adoration you have for them. That for all your life spent trying to find the missing part of your soul, all along you were the missing part of theirs. Because they are your home, where you will always belong.” 

The assistant stood dazed for a moment and then with a strange twinkle in their eye they said, “I believe we may have something around the back.” 

It was only when he was being driven back to Featherington House that he had another thought. Something more important than flowers. The rest of the letters he had not sent. The letters that he could not help but write late at night when he could not sleep, the letters that he thought she would never read but that he was certain would prove that he no longer saw her as a friend. He loved her. And he had for longer than he had realised.

Sticking his head into the rain he asked the footman if they could return home just for a moment and he would journey across the square on foot. 

However, upon entering his room with his very large and very expensive bouquet he found it not empty. 

He found her. 

Penelope wore her thin day dress like a second skin, soaked almost black it clung to her curves, the softness of her breasts.

Once again she brought the smell of fresh rain with her. She did not even seem aware of how she dripped upon his floorboards, shivering in a way that made him want to cling her to his body and warm her. 

Now, she pressed her hands against the sharp ache of his cut and he could not stop thinking about it, gazing at each droplet of rain still on the rising and fall of her chest, the redness of her lips, the way her damp hair curled and stuck to her throat. He wanted to place his lips there, where it curled, drag his teeth along her neck until she moaned for him.

He could not let her leave. Not if there was a chance she wanted to stay.

“Stay.” He told her, dragging her back to him.

He touched his lips to hers softly at first, exploring the feeling now that they were alone with nothing to interrupt them

A small tiny voice in the back of his mind screamed at him to stop, for he knew with every fiber of his being that he wanted to sink into her and never let her go. 

He peeled back. “I forget myself.” He rasped. “You should go.”

“I want to stay.” 

Her eyes were still closed. She still leaned toward him, waiting for him to kiss her again. His heart pummeled in his chest. 

Her eyes fluttered open. Why did they have to be so wide and blue, flecked with silver, laced so thickly with her eyelashes, drawing him back to her. 

He rested his forehead against hers, touching their noses, feeling her breath. “I want you to stay, but if you do I do not believe I will remain a gentleman.”

“I believe you made that quite clear last night.” She smiled. Slowly killing his resolve.

“Last night we were not alone, we were being driven home by a footman, we were always going to need to stop.” 

“And here you will not stop?” She asked, nudging his nose with her own in a way that made his stomach clench.

“I cannot say that I will.” 

“Good.” She whispered and touched her lips to his, once, softly. “I do not want you to.” 

Every dogged virtue he ever held onto shattered. 

He took over, pulling her closer, the thought of his injury far from his mind. 

She knew now to open her lips for him, allow him to move into her mouth, tasting her, teasing her, feeling her incredible moans travel through his body. 

He gave into everything he had imagined, taking his lips over her neck, kissing up the droplets on her chest, coming back up to behind her ear. 

His hands worked to unhook her soaked dress and peel it away. “You are quite freezing.” He whispered as he kissed over the icy skin he was working to expose.” 

“I do not feel cold.” She gasped. 

He nudged her and she lay down on his sheets. Him peeling away the rest of her bodice. 

“I have very little idea what to do.” She let out quickly. “I know I have written…scandals… but it is only what I overheard I do not-“

“-I know a little.” He cut her off. “I have no experience but I know enough.” 

He returned to kissing her, intercepting her gasp of surprise. “I know not to hurt you.” He whispered against her lips. 

She pushed up against him then, bringing the thrill of illicit contact. Quickly he worked at her stays, pulling it away and bringing his hand up to squeeze her breasts. She did it again, rolling her hips up against his, he buried his face against her neck and groaned. She was going to kill him. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He said with a shuddering breath as he pulled back. 

There was something imbalanced about being bared intimately beneath Colin Bridgerton whilst he remained completely clothed. 

“I want to see you.” She stated.

He seemed to realise he had been pinning her arms down as he stared openly at her and pulled back. 

Before she could reach for even a button he had torn off his shirt and waistcoat. He leant back toward her as though he had not just uncovered the most glorious sight she had ever laid eyes upon. 

She ran her hands down him, relishing in the movement the confines of the carriage had prevented. Skimming her fingers to find any stretch of sensitive skin. As she dipped them below the waist of his breeches, he hissed. Something tightened within her, instead of pulling back she scraped her fingernails against the space of skin in the dip of his hip bone. He bowed his head. 

“Do you mean to torture me?” He asked, somewhat strangled. 

“If I do?”

With a sound between a growl and a moan he recaptured her in a frenzied kiss. His palm kneading at her breast, thumb grazing her nipple in a way that caused her to writhe beneath him. 

As she did he ground his hips down, dragging his glorious hardness against her. She did not even try to suppress the cry that escaped into his mouth. 

He moved again and she was sure she would have screamed if his mouth did not cover hers with intense pressure. 

Just as she thought she could not take any more, his hand lifting her hips, sliding away the damp fabric. Pulling everything off her, leaving her in only her whisper-soft stockings. 

He gazed down at her, open mouthed. Causing her to shift uncomfortably. 

She shivered at the touch of empty air on her still damp skin. 

“I did not imagine you would look like this.” He said. 

She felt her cheeks bloom red and hot. “Did you imagine I would be…something else?” 

She could not bring herself to utter any of the hideous thoughts deep inside her mind. Prettier. Daintier.

“Nothing I ever imagined compares. You are the loveliest thing I have ever laid my eyes on.”

“Oh.”

He seemed in no rush to cease looking at her, so she spoke again. “Will you undress now?” She asked. 

He hesitated before drawing back, standing to take off his boots and then slowly, he undid his breeches. 

She held her breath, watching. She had seen statues and paintings of the male form of course but nothing could have prepared her as she watched Colin Bridgerton completely bare himself for her.

She had to snap her mouth shut as he crawled back onto the bed, coming over her once more. At the first touch of naked skin on naked skin they both moaned. 

Penelope was left wracked with desire as every part of her body screamed for him, she wanted him. 

“I am going to try something, Pen, it is something I saw on my travels.” 

She nodded. 

He left her then, trailing his lips down her body until he reached the top of her thighs.

“Colin?” She asked, suddenly nervous again. 

“I wish to kiss you here.” He explained, hot breath hitting her. “It will bring you pleasure and it will relax you.” 

“Okay.” She agreed, curiosity taking over. “But tell me, where did you see- oh.” 

At the first contact of his tongue,  every capacity to think left her being. 

She opened her mouth to finish her question but once again, “oh.” Was all that she could say, her head falling back, hard, against the pillow. 

“Oh.” 

She put her own hand over her mouth to stop herself saying any more. 

There was something growing tighter inside her, building. His mouth drawing it out, making it stronger with each movement of his tongue. 

The hand not clamped over her mouth found his hair and she plunged her fingers into it, keeping him there.

He was bringing her higher, the feeling inside growing impossibly, she could only breathe, forgetting all else, her name, her voice. Then it let go. She shouted into her hand as every muscle in her body tightened and released at once, pulsing as they did so. 

She was left shivering and gasping as he crawled back over her and began kissing her again

“What was that?” She asked. 

“I do not know, I saw one woman do it to another inside a house of ill repute.” He said, an edge of pride in his voice. 

“My God.” She breathed. 

“There is more.” He said before kissing her again. 

She had seen where he was hard with his desire and could guess at what he meant. She reached for him, wanting to touch him.

As soon as her fingers kissed the heat of his skin he groaned against her shoulder. She wrapped her grasp around him, feeling the silken surface and the hardness beneath. 

She had felt where the heat of her body pooled, where she pulsed and ached the most and knew where it would go. She could not fathom how it would work. 

“Pen-Penelope…If you do not stop…”

He took her hand away.  

“I will touch you if you will let me?”

His good hand trailed down her body and set itself between her legs.

She shifted nervously. “I have never felt so heated there before.” She told him. “It is like I am aching.” 

His breathing caught as his fingers found how wet she was. “Touching you will help.” He whispered. 

She could feel him teasing closer to her center, where she opened. “You can touch me closer if you want to.” She whispered back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He pushed further, until she felt his fingers make their way inside her.

“Tell me if I do anything you do not like.” He rasped

He continued to tease her, pushing deeply and pulling back, making her cling to him. 

“I like it all.” She gasped in return.

at first she was panting in his ear, writhing for him and then she grew quiet.

“What is the matter?” He managed to ask despite being wracked with pleasure from the press of her naked body and the feeling of touching inside her. 

“Nothing.” 

He knew that was not true. He pulled back. 

“Is it because we are not married? We can stop. I can stop.” 

“Do you still wish to marry me?” She asked, a small frown on her lips.

“With everything that I am, I wish to marry you. I am paralyzed with fear over the thought of marrying anyone else.” 

“Even though we are not…a true love match. That is what you always wanted, is it not?” 

He stared at her perplexed. “Do you not love me?” He asked, wondering how she could have come so far with him if she did not.

“Of course I do, Colin.” She whispered, her eyes misting over. “I have loved you my whole life.” 

Shock ran through him at her words. That was more than he had been expecting. More than he had hoped for. He could not understand what the matter was. “Then we are a love match.” He said softly.

She looked at him, still confused. 

“How?” She asked him.

“Because I love you.”

Her eyes went wide. He was sure he could feel her heart hammering inside her chest. 

All at once he realized he had never said it. He had been feeling it for days, weeks, months now but had never said the words.

“I love you.” He said again, leaning forward to kiss her. 

She kissed him back slowly at first but then he whispered it again. “I love you.” And she became hungry and demanding. White-hot desire pulsing between them, her hands everywhere, fingers on his skin. His leg nudging its way between hers. He pressed the proof of his desire against her, making her cry out again. 

He caught her lips, kissing them harder, caught up in the intimacy of the moment. He reached between their bodies to touch her again. She felt luxurious, wet for him. 

He moved his mouth to her ear, her throat, her chest, trying to emblazon himself over any surface he could reach. Trying to slow himself down.

She arched beneath him, curving her body to his. It was as though she could not stop from moving and he relished in it. 

As much as he had tried he could no longer move slowly, he ached for release. He urged her legs wider. 

Her legs wrapped around him on instinct, heels digging into his buttocks, pulling him closer. 

“We should not rush.” He told her.

“Will you touch me again?” She practically begged. “Please?”

Penelope already felt stretched on Colin’s fingers. Every moment they stayed inside her she wanted to move against them. 

She wanted to be able to feel that he loved her on every part of her skin. 

“I do not wish to wait any longer.” She gasped as he slid yet another finger inside her, causing the ghost of pain to intensify her pleasure. 

Suddenly, his fingers were gone and he pressed his member back against her. Everything inside her gripped and pulsed. She needed him. 

His breath hit her lips in ragged waves. Then he kissed her and pushed forward. So slightly but all at once everything felt different. All she could concentrate on was the feel of him, unaware of his weight pushing her into the mattress, his laboured breathing, the way he moaned her name. Because he was inside of her. 

He paused. Letting her stretch further, relax deeper but she was sure waiting was going to kill her. She did not want for him to stop for anything. 

She moved slightly. Experimenting with how much control she still had. 

“Oh God.” He groaned, head bowing towards her. 

“Please move.” She begged him. 

He groaned and continued to push forward until he was completely embedded inside her. 

The moment he had sunk to his hilt something even more thrilling than the release she had felt before shot through her. 

Again, he waited. Pausing, searching her face to see if she was well, if she needed more time. It was agonizing. 

He was pure perfection. The desire to feel him move more surged through her blood, elevated by the aching sting she felt around him. 

“Are you hurt?” He asked her. 

“No.” She shook her head. “No I am not. I need…I need…” she did not know how to explain what she needed.

As though he knew however he rolled his hips against her, pushing even deeper inside her, causing all her breath to leave her lungs. 

“Yes that. Oh God Colin. More of that.” 

Dazed, he did it again and again and then faster. 

He noticed before she did that she was going to scream and covered her mouth with his own, moaning against her lips as she sunk into the kiss. 

His good hand gripped the pillow beside her face as the injured one stroked her hair. 

He peppered her face with kisses all the while moving, bringing heavenly jolts through her entire body. 

She gripped him tighter than he thought was possible. 

Every thrust he gave her she moved perfectly, like heaven. 

Sweet sounds escaped her lips between her gasps and when it seemed she was to cry out he captured her in another kiss. 

Oh how he was addicted to her, how she moved under him.

It was too soon that he felt the end approaching. But every move of her hips against his brought him closer to the edge. 

She could sense it too as she grew tighter around him, her breath hitching in his ear. He did not have the capacity to stop her as she cried his name out, her body pulsing underneath him as he reached his end. 

He lay down on the bed beside her, panting. Entirely ruined and in bliss. 

After he felt like he could finally move again he turned to her and smiled. 

She had curled into a ball on her side. The early evening light touching the pale curves of her shoulder and hips, the still damp curl of her hair, the fan of her eyelashes. She smiled back at him and he was sure his heart would combust.

Reaching over her, he brought his covers around her, shielding her from the cold and then he dragged her against himself, reveling at how perfectly they fit together. He kissed her shoulder.

“I cannot stay here” she mumbled. 

“The rain is only just beginning to end, stay until it does and then you can tell anyone who asks you were seeking shelter in our drawing room.” 

“Will you stay awake?” She yawned. “Keep an eye out?” 

“An eye out for who? My family will all know we are to wed soon enough.”

“Shall we really be wed?” She asked the sound of dreaming in her voice.

“I very much hope so.” He said lightly, nuzzling against her hair. “You would leave me utterly ruined and heartbroken if you refused me now.”

He felt her let out a small laugh before she drifted into sleep.

Penelope awoke to the heavenly press of Colin behind her, his arms a fortress around her. 

She slowly tried to pry herself away, turning to get a look at the window to guess at how long they had slept.

A sickness lurched inside her as she saw not the growing dark of night but the peaceful light of a new morning.

Colin groaned and pulled her tightly back against his bare chest.

Her heart pounded.

Had anyone noticed that she had not returned? They had both missed dinner. 

To be sure, they had agreed upon marrying but that would not count for very much if her mother killed her and Anthony did the same to Colin. 

“Colin, it is morning.” She said, panic clear in her voice.

She felt him raise his head warily. “It is only the early evening.” He said confidently.

“No it is not. It is the sun rising and if you listen you can hear the birds.”

“No one has come looking.” He said, not letting her go even a little. “Besides we shall need a special license as it is, it matters not if we are discovered.”

“If we are discovered?” She hissed, wriggling to get away from him. “I would rather we are not. I very much prefer my head and neck to stay together as one.” 

He let go of her then and sat up. “Your mother surely will not stay angry with you once you are married and a Bridgerton.”

“A Bridgerton.” Penelope muttered as she searched for her undergarments. He would not win her over so easily with sweet words. He had fallen asleep on his watch. 

He got up and found her dress. “Perhaps we can hang it by the fireplace to dry?”

“And where shall I hide while you call for someone to light the fire?” She asked. 

“I can do it.” He told her and moved over to take out a tinder box.

She watched incredulously. In all her years she had not witnessed any Bridgerton do anything so menial for themselves. He had to have picked it up on his travels. Among other talents.

He was still naked and he reached his arms up to stretch once his work was done, illuminated luxuriously by the light of the growing flame. 

She quickly looked away when he turned, tying up her stays. 

“Come back to bed while we wait.” He urged her.

Hesitantly, she joined him. 

“I am sorry I fell asleep.” He told her softly. Absently stroking her skin. “I did not sleep at all the night of our carriage ride. I was terrified you would never agree to marry me.” 

“You have certainly convinced me.” 

“Because you found your desire for me too strong?” He smiled. 

“No. Because you said-“

“-I love you.” He finished. “I cannot fathom why it took me so long to say it. You have been in every one of my thoughts for some time. I came home only knowing I needed to see you, to speak to you again. Nothing felt right until I did. But even touching you when we danced and seeing you happy again was not enough. I will never have enough of you, Penelope.”

“Nor I you.” She admitted softly.

“And once we are married you will no longer have to continue with that Whistledown business.”

She sat up. “What did you just say?”

“I promised I would always protect you, Penelope. I will feel all the more compelled to do so when you are my wife. How am I to keep you safe if you are constantly putting yourself in such danger?”

“Colin, even if I ceased writing this very moment I would still be in danger. The Queen will never stop looking and without my revenue Mr. Harris and others helping me will have no reason to stay quiet, especially not in the face of the reward money.”

His face did not change. “You are in more danger every time you travel to that side of London. No young lady should be procuring hired carriages alone.”

“I assure you, Colin, that that side of London holds no more danger than this side. It is only that people try to talk about the dangers of this side far less.” Her voice was shaking. She could not believe he expected her to give up the most important part of herself. 

“I worked hard at what I write. I know so many just see it as a silly little gossip column but that is not how I intended it. So many in our society feel they can get away with the most heinous things with no one to hold them accountable, I try to hold a mirror to that…” she trailed off. It sounded so hollow and meaningless coming from her own mouth. 

“I know you worked hard, Pen. But surely you can write something else. Something less likely to anger the Queen?” 

She got off the bed and walked to her drying dress. 

“Where are you going?” He asked her.

“Anywhere but here. I cannot believe I agreed to marry you. You do not even know me!” She was crying now.

“You believe I do not know you because I wish to keep you safe?” He wrapped a sheet around his waist to get up.

She paused. “Yes. I do not wish to always be safe. Do I not get to be free?” 

He could not or would not answer her. His mouth formed a tight line.

She finished pulling her dress on, reaching behind for the last few buttons.

“Will you be at home?” He asked finally. “I will call on you when you have calmed down.”

She bristled. “I am perfectly calm.”

“You cannot refuse to marry me.”

“Cannot?”

“You could…might become with child?” He stuttered. 

It was the worst thing he could have said.

“It was once.” 

“It can happen after once.” He said, almost desperately.

An unhinged part of her wanted to scream she had enough money to flee to the Americas and claim to be a widow, raising the poor half-imagined child all on her own. But that would not go very far to support her argument that she was calm. 

“It is not likely.” She said, though she knew very little on the matter. He did not argue which emboldened her. “I wished to marry this season to escape from under my mother’s thumb, not to find myself under yours.”

“Penelope, that is not what I am attempting to do!” His voice broke and it was painful for her to hear. 

She had put her mud soaked slippers back on, tying them up. 

“Whatever it is you do want. Keeping me from what I have built in the name of my safety. It is not love.” 

He gaped at her. 

She felt her own emotion building heavy on her heart. She stood up straight. Willing to give it all one more chance. “Will you take it back? Will you promise to let me continue to write my pamphlet?”

“I cannot-“ he began. 

She could not listen to the rest. 

She turned and fled, yanking open his door, sprinting into the corridor and hitting the buttoned up chest of someone coming from the other direction. 

Colin had made two steps and was about to make chase when the most terrifying shout came from the corridor. 

He heard Penelope’s yelp of surprise and her scrambling to get up. 

He was frozen. Did he still try to get to her or hide?

At the incensed bellow of “Colin!” He dove under his covers. 

The Viscount.

“Was that Penelope Featherington I just saw hastening from this room?” Anthony asked in a voice that could scald a layer of skin off a man.

He marched over to the bed. “For the love of all that is good tell me you are fully clothed under those sheets.” Anthony lamented. 

Colin shrank back. 

“Did you compromise the Featherington girl? No. Do not answer that. I have seen plain as day how you have stared at her all season. I just did not fathom you would step so far outside the bounds of propriety. And in our family home.”

“I plan to put things right. Just as soon as I might dress.” Colin defended weekly. 

“And I take it you shall take it upon yourself to explain to Lady Featherington why a swift wedding is needed?” 

“I need to be sure there will be a wedding at all before I do such a thing.” Colin mumbled.

“What was that?” Anthony asked, a lethal expression on his face as he feigned leaning in to hear his brother better.

“Do not tell me you let that girl leave here without a proper proposal!”

“She had a proper proposal.”

“Good.”

“She just has not accepted…as such.”

A vein in Anthony’s temple looked in danger of bursting. His hand twitched as though he was considering committing fraternacide. 

“What is needed to get the girl to accept you? She has pined after you since you were children!”

“I made certain demands if we were to marry. She did not take kindly to it but they were all for her own good.”

Anthony made a choking noise. “I should take your head and see if smacking it against the mantle will grant you any sense! You have how many sisters and yet you believe you could issue demands on a woman you wished to marry?” 

“Pen is different, I thought she would understand.” 

“Whilst I have no doubt Penelope Featherington is special to you, she is still a woman, I can assure you if I had issued any demands upon Kate before we wed I would have found myself alone at another altar. Had the Duke done so to Daphne he would be sitting alone in Clyvedon now not expecting a third child to bless his halls. If the Earl suggested such a thing to Fran, best believe he would return to Scotland a bachelor still. If you wish to end this day, betrothed, I strongly suggest you find her and tell her that whatever she wishes to do after you are married you will support her, as a husband should do.”

Pen strode shakily down the street, leaving the square behind her. 

She was ruined.

Not in the traditional sense. She was sure Debling would take her on despite her lost innocence. That did not seem to matter to him at all. She was ruined because no shell of a marriage could never compare to what she felt with Colin.

How could she tie herself to amicable days of mutual understanding and trust when she knew the fire of passion that could be lit between two people? When she knew the unyielding high of knowing he loved her. back when she thought he did.

He loved the Penelope who stuck close to the wall and watched him shine. The Penelope who waited for him to grow bored of adventure. Who could listen to him talk of nothing and fool herself into thinking he talked of love.

He did not know the Penelope who moved in the shadows. The Penelope who heard secrets and chose which ones to share and which to bury away. He did not know the Penelope who felt pain, the Penelope who forced a smile, the Penelope who curtseyed and maintained polite eye contact when she wanted to scream and break things and run away. He did not know her at all.

And the first small glimpse he had had of the side of her he had tried to snuff it out.

She found herself in front of the nondescript town house. 

She knocked.

To her utter relief Tilley answered this time. 

“Is something the matter?” She asked peering around.

Penelope became aware at once that she was wearing clothing stained with rain and mud and her hair had to have been nothing but a tangled mess. 

“So much has happened and I understand nothing.” She admitted.

Tilley reached out her arms and drew her in.

Later, Pen had been bathed and dried and placed in a soft cream day dress that had once belonged to an opera singer Tilley had formed a friendship with before she had left London to marry a Spaniard. 

Pen found herself being passed cups of tea and refreshments as she melted into the widow’s plush couch cushions.

“Tell me everything.” Tilley demanded.

Penelope did, starting with the carriage ride and ending with that very morning. 

The other woman watched and tapped the side of her cup with a long elegant finger.

“Well, I am sorry your engagement with my brother has fallen through.” She said, “Tell me, what do you plan to do when your other young man comes to look for you? As he will. He is clearly lovesick.”

Penelope put her cup down. “Can I truly enter a marriage where I must forgo all control?”

“That is what marriage is, my dear. Tell me, is he an awful ogre? Will he hurt you? Drink too much? Leave you abandoned?” 

“No. He would never do that.”

“Then you have more than most. I myself was not so happily matched with my late husband.”

“I am sorry.” Pen said softly.

“Do not be. He is dead for a reason. Look. I do not mean to encourage you to settle for nothing at all. You should not accept this man telling you that you cannot write. But I am saying it does no good to run away at your first disagreement without truly trying to reach an understanding.” 

“I did not give him much of a chance to speak.” Penelope admitted.

“I can see you have felt strongly for this boy for a long time? Convinced yourself he hung the moon and stars and now you can see he is but a mere mortal, capable of mistakes, lacking in more ways than you would like.”

Penelope pursed her lips. She would not go as far to say Colin was lacking but he was prone to mistakes, especially when it came to her and the things he said. “I suppose I have kept him on a pedestal.”

“And he does not seem so perfect now does he?”

“No…but he is still…”

“Still?”

“Colin.” She said as though that were enough.

Tilley smiled and leaned forward. “Then I suggest you fight for him in future. The two of you have a long road ahead.”

Colin and Anthony stood shoulder to shoulder in the Featherington’s drawing room

The man who had seen them in had assured them that the Lady Featherington and Miss Penelope Featherington would be down presently but here they still stood.

“Excuse me!” Anthony called to a servant scurrying past. The girl paused. “When will the ladies be joining us?”

“Soon.” She squealed and hurried on.

“If I hear soon once more…” Anthony muttered.

“I believe Pen is not here.” Colin admitted, not looking at his brother. How much could he say about the many places Penelope Featherington could hide away in London without letting him catch on to her secret?

“Where on Earth could she be?” Anthony asked as though the idea was ridiculous to him. 

“I do not know for sure but if you let me look I could be back with her within the hour.” 

“The hour? Do you truly expect me to keep Lady Featherington occupied for that long?”

“We walked here. If we had brought a carriage I could be back in half the time.”

“I was not bringing out a carriage to cross the square.” 

“An hour, and I will be back and will have her convinced of marriage.”

Anthony chewed on the idea. “Fine.” He relented. “Do you have it with you?” Colin patted his pocket. “Good. Make a swift return or else the only inheritance I will give you will not be enough for a loaf of bread and you will be forced to live here with your mother in law.”

Colin thanked his brother and ran from the house.

The rain had not returned despite the cover of clouds still remaining. 

She was still close enough to home that she left Tilley’s on foot, taking her time to walk. 

The air was perfectly warm but as Tilley’s house disappeared behind her, a drizzle picked up in the air. 

She hit the edge of Berkeley square wishing she had even a parasole to protect the lovely dress Tilley had gifted her, it’s previous owner having left it as she travelled across the globe to sing opera.

Her mood was light and giddy. The heavy stress of the morning’s argument had lifted and it seemed nothing but a childish squabble, easily remedied with a conversation or two. 

Ominous noises sounded overhead. Not wanting this to be the third time in three days she found herself caught in a storm, she cut across the corner of the square, careful not to slip on the grass underfoot. 

She began to sing softly under her breath. The square was quite empty, the other inhabitants of Mayfair wise enough to avoid the temperamental weather.

Her heel hit a particularly wet bit of grass, sending her skidding like a skater, amplifying her singing voice. 

She caught herself with a triumphant smile just as a male voice called out to her. 

“Pen?”

“Colin!” She said in a slightly embarrassed voice. “I was coming to see you.” 

“ and I was looking for you.” He told her, meeting her on the grass. 

“Were you dancing?” He smiled.

“Of course not.” 

“Pity.” He said, smile widening. “I would have felt compelled to partner you and I have never danced in Berkeley Square.” 

She laughed as though she was the same old Penelope but it quickly fell into a wicked smile. “It is a shame.” She agreed. “It really is quite enjoyable.”

“I thought you were not dancing?”

“I lied.”

“If that is the case, then this surely must be my dance?” He held his hand out to her. 

“But there is no music.” She protested. 

“I do not recall that ever stopping us before.” 

She placed her hand in his.

“Anyone might see us.” She said as they took their positions.

“What might they think?” Colin asked in mock outrage. He feigned a gasp as they began to step. “Perhaps they think we are courting?” 

“That will soon be proven false.” She said as he began to lead her. “After all you did say you would never court Penelope Featherington.”

“How long do you plan on holding that one over me?”

“How long do you have?”

He looked seriously into the depths of her eyes. “A very long time.”

Just as they began to turn, the rain picked up softly. 

“Ah, there is music after all.” He said looking up. “Do you hear it?” 

And as they continued their steps he began to softly hum, holding her warm and close against his chest. 

they neared the last few steps. She looked to see him already looking down at her. “I wanted to ask you something, Pen. Though if you prefer we wait until we are with your family…?”

She shook her head. “Here is fine.”

He stepped back from her. “Before I do, let me say I have cleared my mind. I admit until these last few days there was so much I did not know about you. A side to you I was not grown up enough to see. I allowed myself to be frightened of just how strong and incredible you are. How you have held everything together against all odds. How you have built a name for yourself and made an impact. It frightens me because despite having everything and more at my feet I have done so little and yet you have made all your success with nothing but your talent. I know that for as long as you continue being extraordinary and bold that there will be those who wish to tear you down and destroy you. I do not wish to be one of those people. I wished to hold you down with me where I could keep you safe but I see now that was wrong. You cannot be held down, nor should you be. If you allow me to make up for my mistake in thinking so I will prove that I can support you.”

At the end he knelt down, his knee hitting the mud with a splat. 

He reached inside his jacket and brought out a small box and opening it revealed a small emerald and pearl ring, the circle cut gem in the center winking at her.

A strange sense of nostalgia hit Penelope. A boy hitting the mud from a tree, looking up at her and laughing. She smiled.

“I will marry you Colin Bridgerton.” She said.

He got up with a grin and slid the ring onto her finger. 

Wrapping his arms around her waist he lifted her into the air to kiss her. 

Chapter Text

Dear Gentle reader,

Something must be in the air as I for one have never heard so many wedding bells on the horizon. 

A rather peculiar experience, if one was to squint in the direction of Mount Street on Wednesday last, two figures could be seen dancing in the rain. Who they could be is anybody’s guess. Perhaps they were one of the many couples now headed for the aisle?

This author did not think any wedding announcement could surprise one more than the young Lord Wilding’s betrothal to Miss Patridge, but I was proven wrong. For another Bridgerton match has been made this week, the third son Colin Bridgerton has proposed to none other than Penelope Featherington. His childhood friend to be sure but someone everyone believed was just that, a friend-

“Do you really have to make it sound so surprising that I proposed to you?” Colin asked around a mouthful of biscuit as he lounged against Penelope’s bed.

“Just read it and tell me what you think.” She sighed.

“You sound baffled.” He said.

“Lady Whistledown sounds baffled. As are most of the ton I should think.”

She came and lay front down on the bed, reading over his shoulder. “I really think this is the most wedding announcements we have seen in a single week, four to be exact.” 

“Ours is by far the superior.”

“I believe most people shall find the Earl’s engagement to your sister the most intriguing.” 

“Yes.” Colin smiled, turning his head to look at her. “But he is just an Earl and you are Lady Whistledown.” 

Penelope opened her mouth to tell him to finish reading when her bedroom door flew open, revealing Prudence dressed for bed. Colin quickly flattened himself to the floor, shimmying underneath the bed.

“Who were you talking to?” Prudence snapped.

“No one.” Penelope replied, standing up.

Anthony had made it very clear that she and Colin were to never, under any circumstances, be left alone together until the wedding. If she ever visited the Bridgerton home, even if it was just to join Eloise for tea, he would chaperone personally and was very liberal with his glaring. Colin, in his desperation to spend time with her, had found some creative ways to get around his brother. That very night he had thrown stones at her window until she opened it. Upon doing so he had scaled the house until he could climb inside.

“I heard you talking.”

“I was only reading, Prudence.”

“What were you reading?” She asked, peering around.

Penelope picked up the nearest volume to her. “Gulliver’s Travels.” She read out. 

“Oh I love that book.” Prudence said her face melting into a smile. “You know Harry says he is taking me to Cornwall after we are married.”

“That is…I am very happy for you?”

“Yes, there are a great many things I am excited for after we are married. Seeing Cornwall, moving to the country, having the first boy…” Prudence glanced at her slyly. 

“Do you not think Philippa will have the first boy? Her and Mister Finch have been married a year.”

“No, Mister Finch has said he wishes for a girl.”

“That does not mean they will get one. Besides, why do you want a boy? Dankworth is already a baron.”

“Yes but he is not a Featherington.” Prudence stomped her foot. “I like my name. It was the only good part of being engaged to cousin Jack.”

“I believe you will still be Lady Dankworth if the barony passes to you. It would be your son who would gain the title only he would already be entitled to his father’s so I do not think even that would count.”

Prudence looked at though she was sucking a lemon. “As long as you are not trying to have a boy before me.”

“I assure you, Prudence, the thought had not even crossed my mind once.” 

She cut her eyes at Pen but vacated the room once more.

Pen sighed and going over to the door, lent a chair against the handle. 

She turned to see Colin and her draft climb out from under the bed. 

“What did she mean, the first boy?” He asked. 

Penelope sighed. “It is most likely a forgery, Mrs. Varley is adept with a pen. There is some document that was made before Jack disappeared that said whichever one of us three girls had the first boy, the Featherington estate would pass to them. I do not see how it could hold up, however.”

Colin shrugged as he settled back onto the bed, crossing his ankles and placing his hands behind his head. “If your mother was involved I would not be surprised if it were a legal document. Do you think you might be carrying a boy?”

Penelope swatted at him. 

“I only ask because of your uncharacteristic violence.” 

“I am not with child and I would like to thank you to stop joking about it.” She said as he clasped her wrists to stop her from batting any more at him.

“It is a joke.” He said. “I hope very much that Philippa does have the first boy given the mess we would inherit.”

“It is true, it is nothing but debt.” Penelope giggled. “And Lady Whistledown money.”

“On the bright side, Anthony could never complain to me about keeping books again. In fact I think I should rather like to say to him that he is the one who does not understand responsibility for once.” 

Penelope laughed all the more. The thought of Colin trying to make sense of the books that had been run by her gambling father, her meddling mother and her scheming cousin was quite an interesting one. “Let us hope for a little nephew before the season’s end.”

“I do not envy the poor child.”

He pulled her closer to him. “Is it worth the risk?” She asked as hunger crept into his eyes. “Imagine we did make a boy? Would we have to live here? With my mother?” The thought actually did make her skin crawl.

He pulled back from her, something in his expression shifting as he sat on the bed beside her, looking pensive at the ceiling.

“Perhaps I should not continue.” The hesitation in his voice evident. “I just recalled that you were surprised last time when I mentioned you could become with child.”

Penelope thought about it, “Well, my sister Philippa has been married a year and is yet to say she is expecting and were not the Viscountess and your brother away for sixth months before she became with child?” Penelope asked. She could think of many more examples, she knew her Mama was married at nineteen but Prudence had been born when she was three and twenty.

“You cannot ever speak about this.” Colin said quietly. “But my mother was expecting Anthony already on the day she married my father.”

Penelope felt her eyes widen.

“No one else in my family knows. After everything that happened with Lady Crane, when I left to Greece on my first tour, mother wrote to me to tell me all about it. I believe she wanted me to see things better from another point of view. It took me some time to get my head around it all. Now, I suppose I am thinking of it again as I believe my parents only had one night of discretion together before they were wed.”

“Oh.” Penelope said, now looking at the ceiling too. 

“We can wait.” Colin suggested. “If you wish, even after we are married. I am not saying it will not be difficult. But you have your writing and I wish for us to travel.”

“Can we not write and travel with children?” Pen asked carefully.

“Do you wish for children?” He asked back.

She closed her eyes.

An old fantasy swam to the surface of her mind. A line of beautiful faceless children dressed in matching colours, calling her Mama, a family of love and warmth and games. Not dissimilar to the family she often watched across the square. 

That had been the dream of her girlhood. Before the cold bitter reality of the marriage mart stormed in front of it.

When she decided that she must find her happiness and worth elsewhere. When she realized that the man in her dreams, who looked remarkably like Colin, would more likely be some stranger who would pat his children on the head before disappearing into a study. Or worse, leave for hours only to return home unable to walk straight. And that was if she could get a husband at all.

Now, in place of faceless children she could see them with Colin’s eyes or his small nose. She could see them with freckles and curls that ranged from red to auburn to brown. 

She saw not an absent father but Colin. She saw him rocking the little ones as he used to do for baby Hyacinth, playing endlessly as he always did with Gregory, reading as he did with Eloise and playing music as he did with Francesca. 

She could not see him demand of her to change herself for motherhood. She knew that she would be able to duck away to write whenever she wanted.

There were many unknowns that frightened her about being a mother. Many tragedies that befell women who were trapped into bearing offspring for callous or neglectful men. But that would not be her life with Colin. Could she possibly once more dream about a family, her family? Was it truly a possibility that she could have that without losing the part of her she discovered when she never thought she would marry?

“I think.” She said slowly. “I should not mind having a child. If it was your child.” 

She turned to look at him, his face was unreadable. Like he was holding his true feelings back. 

“I would never let you return to under your mother’s control.” He said seriously. “Even if we had a boy. I know how important your freedom is.”

She felt emotion surge within her, her eyes threatening to cry. “If I were to have a family I would want it to be nothing like my own and everything like yours.”

“My family is not perfect.” Colin said. “I should hope we experience far less squabbling.” 

“Would we allow our children all the books they want?” She asked, allowing a watery smile.

“Oh, it should be a requirement.” He smiled back. “And we should allow them to climb trees.”

“Even the girls?”

“Especially the girls, how else are they to find husbands?”

Penelope half laughed. “Will we still travel?”

He paused. “Well, I should like to raise any children we have close to my family. It would be difficult to go anywhere with babies. But once they are old enough, many are able to take their whole families across the seas to begin new lives. We could bring them with us. Or if we find the right nursemaid or governess, I am sure we could leave them here for a short time.” 

“A baby?” Penelope said, almost to herself. A real baby. If fate would have it, she could hold a baby in her arms within the year. Colin’s baby. “Did you want a baby?” She asked, turning to him. 

“I have always wanted to be a father.” He said seriously. “I dreamt of having a family like my own, recreating the magic that was there before my father died. I was, however, happy to wait until I was much older to see it happen.”

“Are you sorry you are marrying so young?”

He turned to her fully, pulling her close. “No. I want to marry you more than anything. And when I think of you being the one to have my child. I no longer find myself wishing to wait.” 

She buried her face against his chest. His heart pounded against her cheek. “Then let us not wait.” She said, lifting her face to look at him.

He leant toward her. This time as their lips touched there was electricity. Something heavier pulling them together. She thought that surely one of the two of them would pull back, declare they needed time to think, but neither did. 

His hand came behind her neck, his fingers in her hair, his other arm wrapped around her, pulling her right against the length of his body. She followed as he pulled her on top of him. She straddled him and began to kiss him hungrily, pushing her fingers deep into his hair. He bit her lightly on the chin, pulling back.

Warmth quickly spread throughout her body. She had ached a whole day after her first night with Colin and she finally felt like herself again. He had assured her the same tenderness should not repeat itself. 

Quickly, the thrill of pleasure began its climb and to chase it she began to move her hips against him.

He groaned brokenly and with a heave, he switched their positions, pinning her to the bed beneath him.

“If you kept doing that I would not have lasted.” He said against her ear. She shivered as his voice left a trail of tingles down her neck. 

Turning her chin she found his mouth and sunk into their kiss, taking her time to taste him. To feel him kiss her back. 

“Do you think your absence will be noted?” She gasped as he moved to her neck.

“I do not care.” He replied, moving to her night clothes and beginning to untie them. “Let it be noted.”

“I have left a bad influence on you.” Penelope responded, her voice catching as he completed untying her night dress, replacing the cold air with  gentle caresses.

“Mmm.” Was all he could reply as he lowered his mouth to her breast.

She let herself writhe beneath him. She knew there was no point asking him to undress. He still held her arms, utterly unaware of anything beyond where his mouth was. She had to admit she struggled to think about anything his mouth was not doing as well.

She let out a whimper of surprise as his one of his hands let go of her arm and found her under the skirt of her night gown, his fingers plunging into her centre.

“What?” He asked, a small smile on his flushed lips. “Did you think I would not touch you like this again?”

She moved her hips against his hand and his smile grew all the wider.

Soon he had her panting and clenching, her release building quickly as he touched her. They moved quickly. She reached for what she could, pulling at his clothes, tearing away his cravat. She wanted every inch of him, wanted to kiss his body until he was a trembling mess.

He pulled away to remove the rest of the clothes she had not been able to reach. Before he could crawl all the way back to her she went to him, climbing on top of him again and kissing him fiercely. He moaned at the touch of her nakedness against him, all the louder and more ragged as she rolled her hips so she could feel the length of his hardness against her. She made herself gasp into his mouth as she did it again. 

“My God.” He said. Fingers finding her again, pushing inside. She felt herself clench around them. “I had no idea you could become so wet.” He whispered and the primal edge to his voice made her shudder. 

“I need you.” She said to him, Because she did. She felt if he was not inside her soon she would have to claw her own skin off. Or his.

She reached between them as well, finding him and wrapping her fingers around him. He moaned against her mouth. 

She moved her hand experimentally.  Suddenly, he moved her hand away and she felt him press against her entrance. 

She gasped as he began to breach her. He began kissing her softly, almost soothing as she continued to take his length. 

She had never felt so full before, so complete. Impatiently, she rolled her hips against him, causing him to muffle a cry. 

He began to move in earnest, pushing up as she moved down, taking him in deeper than she thought possible. She began to move more rapidly against him, kissing him in between uneven breaths. She could not think and by the raw unleashed noises he was making, neither could he as his fingers pressed into the flesh of her hips. 

He finished with a strangled moan as he thrust up. 

Before she could move or speak he flipped her and began kissing a frantic trail down her body to see to her satisfaction as well. 

Colin fought hard to resist sleep. Giddy from a night spent with Penelope, watching her come undone multiple times, sent his heart soaring. He could never recall being so happy. 

With regretful kisses over every inch of her skin, he left her wrapped up in bed as he climbed out her window. 

Pale streaks of sunrise stretched like fingers in the sky. Intrusive birds singing their songs. He was utterly alone in the square and so he took his time, humming a tune and tapping his fingers. 

Taking care to be quiet, he let himself into his family home. 

“I was wondering when you would return.”

Colin nearly jumped from his skin. 

Anthony stood, dressed for bed with a thick blue robe tied around his waist, laced with gold thread. He looked worn down. Colin immediately felt like a child. How did being in his older brother’s presence have that effect on him? 

“I believe I can hazard a guess where you were.”

“All is well brother, I was not seen going in or out. She is my betrothed, we know what we are doing.”

Anthony rubbed his temples slowly, “come with me.” He said.

The Viscount led them through the house and into their father’s old study. The portrait of Edmund looking every bit like the playful storytelling father Colin knew as a boy. 

“A drink?” Anthony asked.

“It is rather early…”

“Of tea.” Anthony sighed pointing to a still steaming tray set up on his desk. 

Colin accepted and Anthony set about making their cups. 

“I am the first to admit I have struggled to see you as more than a boy since you returned from Eton.” Anthony said, an edge of awkwardness to his voice. Colin took the tea handed to him and sat down. Anthony sat across from him. 

“In truth, you are more than the man I was at two and twenty. I cannot count the years I wasted trying to sow my wild oats when all I ended up sowing was my own discontent.” Anthony paused to sip his tea. “You, however, are already trying to find your purpose. You are open to love, much more than I was capable of even as late as last year. I cannot tell you how much finding Kate forced me to grow. Forced me to confront the sheer magnitude of feeling I was capable of, the depth of love that I could feel.”

Colin shifted uncomfortably. He had not ever known his brother Anthony to open up like this to anyone. The only emotion he seemed capable of sometimes was frustration. 

“As I have discovered with Penelope.” Colin explained. “And more than that, I have known her for almost my whole life.”

“I can see that.” Anthony quickly amended, “I can see how much you love her, how quickly you have changed since discovering that fact, that is why I need to have this discussion with you.”

“I am afraid I do not understand.” Colin said, placing down his tea.

“I made mistakes with Kate. I was not a perfect gentleman. To make matters worse, the stupid games I played, nearly marrying Edwina. She has suffered for it.”

“I thought all was well after the Queen acknowledged your match and gave her approval?”

Anthony shook his head. “Society accepts us in public to be sure. But people talk.” He stopped to collect himself. “I could stand it if it was me they spoke about, if they said I was the one not up to scratch, that I could not make up my mind when the decision was obvious. But no. That is not what they say and to hear them say…”Anthony’s voice broke and he held the back of his fingers to his lips as he attempted to collect himself. “To hear them say that my wife seduced me. To hear them call her loose and a harlotte, to suggest she cannot run this family after everything with her sister because of what I did.” Anthony’s voice dropped. “I will never forgive myself for not having my head on straight. For not following the rules society has laid out for us. To see the woman you love suffer because of your rash decisions. It is a fate I would not wish upon anyone.”

“I had no idea people were talking. The two of you seem so content.”

“We are more than content. I would not give our union up for anything. That is not to say there are no consequences . We could not even find a new lady’s maid for Eloise as nobody wanted to work for us. Mrs. Wilson had to poach a girl from the Cowpers. If Whistledown had not come from nowhere and set everything right with Francesca, then I shudder to think what would have been left of Kate’s reputation as Viscountess.” 

“I see.” 

“You must not make my mistake. I know that when you are in love, society’s rules seem fickle. But do your best to follow them. All it takes is one loose lipped servant or an unseen passer by and all the secrets you hold dear could be laid bare for everyone, for better or worse.”

Colin gulped. 

“I know you will do the right thing. Your engagement ball is in a few nights, you will see her then.”

Colin nodded. Anthony stood and so Colin followed suit, heading to the door. 

“I am proud of the man you have become. Use your cunning mind for good and I am sure you will do great things.”

Anthony held his hand out for Colin to shake but he ignored it and instead pushed past to pull his brother into a bone crushing hug.

Pen had not seen Colin for three nights. She felt she was running some sort of deficit without him. He had sent her many notes via a footman every day proclaiming he missed her. Saying that something Anthony said had stuck with him and he believed it proper that he should stay away until their wedding. Penelope wondered if she would still be able to marry Colin if she committed some sort of violent crime against her future brother in law. As that was unlikely, she opted instead to spend her time out of the house or writing. Both her mother and sister complained bitterly at the number of walks she insisted upon in an effort to distract herself.

“I do believe I have worn through another pair of boots. Do not let her suggest another promenade Mama, I do not wish to freckle before my wedding”

“Thoughts of your wedding will have to wait, Prudence. Your future family must still arrive from overseas before we can even start planning. It is Penelope we must focus on now.” Portia turned to Penelope. “My dear, I know you say that a brisk walk agrees with your countenance but can we not have a break today? You must be overdue for another fitting for your trousseau and I do believe my feet have not yet recovered from yesterday.” 

Penelope thought about it. She did need to get out of the house but did not think a mere trip to the modiste would be sufficient enough distraction. 

“Might I send for Eloise to come with me? I am sure she needs a new gown as well.” 

“Yes, alright, though the four of us might prove too many.”

“Four of us?”

“You do not think I would leave you alone with all the difficult decisions of planning a wedding and honeymoon wardrobe?”

Penelope’s stomach dropped. “I was thinking I might go with just Eloise. I already know what I would like.” 

“Do not be silly, Penelope, I just have to gather myself and I shall accompany you. A girl of your age does not know what she needs.”

“No.”

Portia sat up as Prudence dropped the embroidery she was butchering.

“Pardon me?”

“I said no. I do know what I would like and for what I do not know, I am sure Madame Delacroix can guide me.”

“Madame Delacroix?”

“She has made countless honeymoon trousseaus, has she not?”

Prudence made a choking noise from where she sat.

Portia turned and slowly stood. Her face was still, her tone low and dark, “do you know what I would have given to have my mother’s help when I was fitted for my wedding? Both of you girls are lucky not to know the perils of a flighty and disinterested mother.”

Penelope shrank. She was quickly losing all the footing she had confidently gained, standing up for herself. “I am grateful you want to help.” she tried again. “I just feel as though I know the style I like for myself better than you do.”

Prudence gasped.

Portia looked long and hard at her youngest daughter. “Very well.” She said, “If that is what you wish then I shall not burden you with my presence.” And with that she returned slowly to her seat, not looking at Penelope. 

Feeling nauseated, Pen sent for Eloise and within minutes her friend arrived with Sophie in toe and along with Jane, they all took off together for the modiste.

Something was wrong with Colin, Eloise knew. 

He spent so much time on his own and when he did sit with the family he seemed distracted, staring longingly at nothing at all and then jumping whenever anyone tried asking him a question! It was aggravating! 

“I am going to see Pen!” She told him loudly, placing her parasole over her arm. 

He jumped into the air, much to Eloise’s annoyance. 

“How is she?” He asked. 

“I would not know, I have not seen her yet.” Eloise replied. “What has got into you lately?” 

He shook his head. “In truth, I do not know.” 

She screwed her face up at him. “You had better not be questioning your engagement to Penelope. I cannot begin to imagine why but she has liked you since we were children. If you should change your mind I do believe I shall have to hurt you.”

“I believe Penelope could handle me herself if I did something so stupid. I am nowhere near changing my mind.” 

“What is it then that has you staring into the distance and launching feet into the air whenever anyone says your name?” She huffed at him.

“Believe me El, you would very much rather I did not say.” He said mysteriously before walking away. 

Sophie found Eloise before she could look for her. “Oh good, there you are. You probably already know, we are going to the modiste.” 

Sophie, Eloise had to admit, was a sharper wit than she. It had made life unbearable. Any attempts to do anything alone were quickly thwarted. Where Anthony had found her, she did not know, a training ground for professional trackers and sleuths no doubt. 

“To Genevieve Dalacroix?” Sophie asked, looking surprised. 

“You know her?” 

“She is a friend…of sorts. I had many dealings with her in my previous position.”

“Yes…well. She will be working. It shall all be dreadfully boring. Perhaps you would like to make yourself scarce?”

Sophie looked sharply at Eloise who immediately felt herself wilt. “If you would like to ask me politely, Eloise, if you might be able to talk to your friend in private, then the answer is yes. If you should want me to disappear so you might go and do whatever it is you please, then the answer is an emphatic no.” 

Eloise put on what she hoped was an endearing smile. “Sophie, please might I have the space to talk to Penelope in private?” 

The maid nodded. 

True to her word, as they left the Featherington’s Sophie dropped back with Penelope’s lady’s maid, the two of them speaking in hushed voices. 

Eloise put it out of her mind. 

She clung to Penelope. “When are you going to tell me everything that happened? The last thing I recall is you telling me you loved my brother but never wanted to speak to him again at Aubrey Hall and then we came back to London and you were suddenly engaged and he is acting as though Anthony hit him particularly hard with a mallet. Does he know?”

“He knows.” Penelope said in a hushed whisper. “He followed me as I was delivering the piece about Francesca. And there’s more, the night of your mother’s birthday ball, he kissed me.” 

Eloise gasped. “He would never dare! What was it like? No. Do not tell me.” She shook her head, trying to get the thought away. 

“It was incredible.” Penelope replied anyway. “And the night he followed me to the printers and discovered everything, he took me home in his carriage and we did even more.”

Eloise made a loud noise of disgust. “He is truly grotesque! You do know you do not have to marry him.”

Penelope nudged into her, deciding she could spare Eloise from the facts of her other encounters with Colin. “You know I want to.”

“Do you know why he is acting strangely?” 

“He is not allowed to see me anymore over something Anthony said to him. I suppose he may miss me?”

“Urgh! So every time he is staring into space he is thinking of…kissing you again?” 

Penelope broke into giggles. “Have you never thought of kissing anyone, El?”

“Well…Theo.”

“No one else? Not even a certain someone who writes letters to you?”

“No! He is married . I only find it rare for a man to be as adept at correspondence as a woman and Sir Philip Crane has a great many interesting stories. I only began writing to him when Marina would not write me back.”

“You write to Marina?”

Eloise felt as though she had trod right into something she was not meant to.  “In truth, I first wrote to her right after she left London. I felt so awful for how she was treated.”

Penelope’s face fell. 

“By everyone!” Eloise quickly added. “I am glad she never married Colin, you have to believe I am. He would have been miserable if he had never married for love. I just wished none of it had ever happened at all. And after I found out who you were…well I reached out once more to see how she was. She never replied to me. Instead Sir Phillip replied and…well…he was nothing like I imagined he would be. He lets her do as she pleases, they do not even live like husband and wife.”

“You know the nature of their marriage?” Penelope asked, surprised.

“I know a great many things. I do not believe he has anyone else to talk to.”

Penelope bit her lip and Eloise felt her stomach sink. Was she going to be told to stop talking to him at once? 

“I do not think you should share the things he tells you with anyone else, or even that you write to him.” Penelope said cautiously. 

“You are probably right.”

The two of them descended into discussing the gossip Penelope had been hearing on her promenades and planned on including in Whistledown. 

Eloise lasted two dress fittings before Genevieve began to bring out sheer swathes of dark coloured lace and all of a sudden Eloise found herself very interested in a roll of purple silk in a corner far away. 

An unseasonable heat had encroached upon London to replace their week of storms. The morning of the engagement ball was not only one of the hottest yet but as the heavy lid of the day closed and the moon’s sphere rose, the heat did not leave. 

A beautifully spangled sky was slowly filled with the many scents of food prepared for starlit guests. 

The main couple of the night was the Earl and Francesca, his own engagement being only a secondary celebration but in Colin’s heart, the night was Penelope’s. He was to see her again. He wondered if Anthony’s words and all of society’s eyes would be enough to hold him back from hauling her away. Even just the thought of seeing her face after days of deprivation and touching her during a dance set him jittering. He sat, fully dressed in the drawing room awaiting any announcement at all. Any time someone entered, he stood. 

“Not Penelope, just me.” Eloise sighed, entering in her gown and sitting down with a book. “Though I must say she looks particularly splendid tonight.”

“You have seen her?”

“Yes, I was just around there. She did not mention you at all.”

Colin bristled. He was sure El was lying. “Will she be arriving soon?”

“Why?”

“Because it is our engagement ball and I would like to greet guests with her.”

“I am sure she will be here soon enough.”

Colin felt like screaming.

Eloise snapped her book shut and narrowed her eyes at him. “You never told me that you knew .” She said,

“Knew what?”

“That she is Lady Wh-”

Colin quickly hushed her. “Should I have?” 

Eloise shrugged. “She never told me, I had to find out on my own.” She said, sounding hurt. “Even when she knew I was looking for her…”

“I found out on my own as well, El.”

“Was I stupid not to figure it all out sooner?”

“No, I found out quite by accident, it is not an obvious thing even when right in front of you.”

“She kept so much from me.” El said distantly. “Though sometimes I wonder if I was the one who stopped listening.” 

“Have you spoken about this with her?”

El sat up smiling, her book forgotten. “I will, things are so much better between us. I think I just wanted to tell you not to stop listening to her. I think keeping secrets comes naturally to her…she forgets there might be people who actually care to know.”

Something about that sent a shard through Colin’s heart. 

Suddenly, Humboldt was at the door, “a Miss Penelope Featherington has arrived with her mother and sister.”

Colin bounded down the stairs without a second thought.

She was facing away from him and so the first thing he noticed was the opulent blue of her gown, it shone so beautifully under the cascade of red hair over her shoulder. 

She turned to look at him, her face immediately lifting into a smile. He only realised he had raised his arms, intending completely to pick her up off her feet, when he caught the harsh gaze of Portia Featherington piercing into him. He dropped his arms and only at the last second remembered to bow politely. Each Featherington curtseyed back at him.

“I was just admiring your decorations.” Portia stated, “everything is so…blue.”

“It is the family colour.” Colin offered weakly. He could not stop looking at Pen and he found himself forgetting what was the name of her unmarried sister. 

“How quaint that you chose to share this night with your sister, then again your family have always been so…close.”

Colin only knew to stop smiling when Penelope’s face fell and she glared at her mother.

“Ah, sorry? What was that?” He asked, genuinely confused. 

When no one answered, he tried again. “Thank you so much for attending tonight, Lady Featherington. I cannot begin to tell you how happy I am to be marrying your daughter. She is my dearest friend and my mother has always sai-“

“Portia, you made it. And on time as always.” Violet’s voice sounded as she descended the staircase. 

“We are just across the square, Violet.” Portia sang. “I can call you Violet? We are to be family after all.”

Colin had taken to staring at Penelope’s face, which seemed to be glowing in the candlelight, but she was looking alarmed, eyes darting between the matrons. He turned his attention back to them.

“Might I say how happy we are to bring Penelope into our family, she has always felt so much like a daughter to me.”

“Well she is a daughter to me.” Lady Featherington shot back.

“And to think, we would not be here if your plan to wed your niece to Colin had not fallen through. Thank goodness for that Whistledown!”

“Mother!” Colin barked, too late to cut her off. He forced a laugh. “We should arrange some refreshments for our guests, should we not?” 

He shot Pen an apologetic look and saw her nod at him. He dragged his mother away.

“Have you indulged?” He whispered to her as they made their way to the kitchens.

“Only a glass or two. That woman just has a way of riling me up.”

“Well I would very much like it if you would un-rile. This night is important to me and Penelope. The two of you will have to learn to get along.”

Violet sighed in disgust. “Do not remind me.” Then she turned to Colin, eyes widening. “You know who she reminds me of?” Violet laughed and covered her mouth. “Oh it is uncanny! She is exactly like my mother was.” She shook her head. “Poor Penelope, the sooner she can marry you the better.”

Colin stood still. Violet waved at him as she disappeared into the kitchens. “Go back to her, I assure you I shall be perfectly civil the rest of the night!” 

When Colin returned to the foyer there was another red haired woman standing with them, wearing a bright floral pink gown. Judging by the presence of Mister Finch beside her, she was the married one.

She turned enough to see that she sported a rather large, pregnant belly. 

“Oh, here is Penelope’s betrothed.” He heard Lady Featherington announce.

“We wanted it to be a surprise.” He heard Mister Finch announce. “This is why Philippa had been in bed all season.”

“I am due any day now.” The pregnant sister declared.

Colin glanced at Penelope. She looked like she had tasted a particularly bitter lemon. He walked over to her and discreetly took her hand. His stomach relaxing as he felt her squeeze his back. 

“Congratulations to you both.” Colin said politely.

“My father, of course, insists that if it is a boy he is to be named Albion. But I for one am hoping for a girl so she might inherit my Philippa’s pretty face.” Mister Finch explained, gazing happily at his wife.

Thankfully, their conversation was interrupted by the sound of the rest of the Bridgertons coming down the stairs. 

Kate was finally well enough to be up, her hair coiled regally and the deep blue gown she wore cleverly minimized her growing bump. Anthony, in matching blue, carefully supported her. Behind them was Eloise and Benedict, Francesca and even Gregory and Hyacinth in their various shades of Bridgerton blue. 

The Featherington’s bowed and curtseyed in turn as the Viscount and Viscountess greeted them. 

“How lovely that you are all here. I know that tonight is to celebrate the Earl and Francesca as well, but rest assured we are just as happy to have your daughter joining the family and this celebration is equally for her.” Kate spoke with such sincerity that Portia gave a disarmed smile. 

“Come through to the ballroom. The Earl should be arriving soon and he along with both our families should be ready to greet the ton as they arrive.” And with utter grace, Kate turned and led them all together into the waiting ballroom.

Penelope was only allowed to stand next to Colin. She could not touch him. Every now and again the tip of one of his fingers would brush her arm or the back of her hand and it would send her spiralling.

Finally, as it seemed there were no more guests to greet, he turned to her and looked at her wrist. “Where is your dance card?” He asked.

“We are engaged, I do not need one.” She replied. 

“Go and get one anyway, one of my brothers might wish to dance with you, to welcome you into the family.”

Penelope walked over to the table holding the cards. Sure enough hers sat there, quite alone.

However, as soon as she returned with it around her wrist, Colin took it and signed his name over the whole thing. “There, now that will make quite certain no one else dances with you tonight.” 

Penelope could not really complain. She was simply thrilled to be near him again, to be reminded of his voice and his scent and the sheer size of him next to her. Eagerly, they both went onto the dance floor together.

“Do you think we could not sneak off together even once?” She asked as they were only on their second dance.

She had planned to wait until their third to ask but every single touch of his skin was driving her crazy. Every time he pulled her in she thought he was going to kiss her. 

“Do not tempt me.” He said to her, looking seriously tempted.

“I do not believe I will last a third dance without doing something scandalous.” She said. “Something so scandalous I may be forced to write about it.” 

He smiled. She could tell he was going to say no. “I wish I could be alone with you, Penelope, but I know myself and I cannot remain a gentleman when we are alone.”

“And you must remain a gentleman?”

“Only until we are married.”

“Because of what Anthony said?”

“Yes, it made terrific sense at the time but right now I cannot for the life of me remember why.” Colin squeezed her waist and pulled her ever so closer against his body.

She inhaled sharply. “Do you think…just for one dance…the informal drawing room?” She suggested. 

He bowed as she sunk into a curtsey. “I will meet you in ten minutes.” He said quietly, gaze intense.

“I am going to fetch lemonade.” Penelope announced.

“And I am going upstairs…for no reason.” Colin said as they walked their separate ways. 

Penelope went to the refreshments tables and quickly finished a glass of lemonade. She glanced to see that no one was watching and moved toward the back doors. 

Just before she reached them, a cold thin hand clamped down on her arm. 

Penelope looked into the face of Cressida Cowper. “I know who you are.” She hissed. “Meet me in the closet behind the kitchen.

And with that she disappeared.

Penelope was left numb. Surely Cressida was bluffing. There was no way she could know. Her mind raced through everyone who knew. Her stomach lurched. Had one of them begun to talk?

She hesitated. Colin was waiting upstairs but she needed to deal with Cressida now in case she did say something. 

Penelope glanced toward the kitchens. More than likely, Cressida was making a wild guess hoping Penelope would come clean. Penelope would go and play the fool and deny knowing anything. Cressida would let it go and move onto someone else. More sure of herself, Penelope glanced once more around the ballroom before heading down towards the kitchens. It took Pen a while of tiptoeing to find what had to be the closet Miss Cowper referred to. It was tucked quite away from anything and Pen had never noticed it before. 

She found the door open and being even more sure that it was the right one, she slipped inside.

“Cressida?” She whispered as she closed the door behind her.

“Cressida?” She whispered again, moving into the room.

There was a click. Metal sliding on metal. And a male voice.

“Sssshhhh.” It said.

Penelope’s blood turned to ice. 

A match flared and created a flickering light on the tip of a candle. The face it illuminated was the last one she ever would have expected.

Lord Fife.

Colin paced around the empty drawing room. Sometimes mimicking the quick steps of the dance going on below.

What was keeping her?

As their missed dance met its end, music softly fading beneath the floor, Colin stopped moving. Something was wrong.

As he swiftly headed into the hallway, he bumped into Anthony.

“I thought you were in there with your fiancée.”

“Evidently not.” Colin said, gesturing at the space around him. “Did you not see her on your way up?” 

Anthony shook his head as he followed his brother back down. “That is why I came looking, I could find neither of you on or around the dance floor.” 

Colin’s stomach dropped. “Perhaps she is with Eloise.” He pondered, aiming to look at once for his sister.

Penelope felt sick. Panic ran up and down every limb.  He was blocking the door. 

“I must thank Miss Cowper for getting you here so swiftly. Tell me, did she have to say much more than I know who you are ?”

Penelope scowled “I know not what she meant by that.”

“Oh you do not? Lady Whistledown.” 

“You are wrong.”

Fife tsked. “For such a prolific writer you fail to pay close attention. The night of Violet Bridgerton’s masquerade. Tell me, who was in that hallway?”

Penelope shook her head. 

“It was awfully busy that night. Allow me to jog your memory. Cressida Cowper was with me you see, I was showing her what I had discovered walking past that room. She was sounding the alarm. Everyone from the ballroom was just beginning to come running. Michael Stirling was there of course, fleeing after making some dithering confession of love at first sight to Miss Bridgerton. And then there was you.”

Penelope felt her eyes widen.

“You, coming from the other direction and you were the only other person close enough to see that the door was ajar before Michael Stirling pushed it open in his hurry to flee. I have not heard anyone mention that fact and there was no way that if it had been a rumour that it would have circulated quickly enough to be in Whistledown not even two days after we all returned to London. How sweet of you to write such a thing so quickly to save your future sister-in-law. So sad that it had to be what has given you away.”

“What do you want? Have you brought me here to threaten me? Is it the Queen’s reward you are after?” 

Fife smiled and stepped closer into the small space. “The reward is tempting. I and many others find our coffers hurting after your cousin made off with so much of what was ours. But there is more than money.”

He eyed Penelope up and down meaningfully, making her want to shrink into nothing to hide. 

“No.” She said firmly.

A sneer appeared on Fife’s face. “Am I to believe you convinced Bridgerton to marry you whilst remaining chaste? You are a fast girl Penelope Featherington, there is no need to pretend with me.” 

He stepped forward again and Penelope found herself backed against a pile of wooden crates. 

“I have money.” She blurted, raising her hands. “More than the Queen’s reward, and more again after that.” It was a lie, she had no where near that amount but she had to try. “I can pay you. Let me leave here now and I can pay you.” 

Fife stopped approaching. “You can get me this money tonight?”

Penelope felt her breath begin to return to her at the possibility of escape.

She nodded. “I live just across the square, I can go there this instant.”

Fife tapped his chin, not moving away from her view of the door. 

“If I give you fifteen minutes, no more, and you come back with the money, I shall leave you alone. And if you do not….” He smiled wide and sharp. “I shall walk through that ballroom and shout at the top of my lungs that Penelope Featherington is Lady Whistledown.”

Penelope burst out of the closet and into the dark hall with her heart pounding and her body shaking.  She could feel Fife still watching her from the dark cavern as she made her way to the back doors of the house.

She was nearly to the door outside when from the dark of a small alcove somebody said, “Penelope? Is something the matter?”

Penelope paused, tears streaming down her cheeks. 

Of all people, Eloise’s lady’s maid, Sophie, was crouched where nobody could see her. 

“I am sorry Sophie.” Penelope whispered shakily. “I cannot stop. He is watching me.”

As soon as she was outside Penelope took off in a sprint, holding the skirts of her gown off the dirt of the square. Once in her bedchamber she collapsed on the ground, barely able to force her arms to sweep all her hard earned money into a reticule. She considered leaving some behind but she did not want to tempt Fife to expose her, or worse, renege on his promise not to touch her. 

Barely able to think or breathe, unable to stop the tears or the tremors, Penelope made it to the back of the house. He was waiting for her just inside the door she had exited, the door where Sophie had been hiding.

He took the bag from her gleefully, looking inside it. 

“You have done well.” He snickered. “And I take it there will be more to come?” 

Penelope nodded.

“Good. Good. Though it is a pity you would not take my other offer.”

She shuddered at the slimy words.

Fife either did not notice or did not care as he left with his reward.

Penelope was about to let out a sigh of relief when someone else stepped from the shadows. She suppressed a scream.

Sophie stood holding a large, heavy looking pan above her shoulder. 

“If he touched you I was going to hit him.” The maid said, her own voice small and shaking.

Penelope let out a relieved sob. “I need Eloise.” She said, “do you think if I go to her room you could get her for me?” 

Sophie nodded, lowering her weapon. “Of course, go.”

Eloise happily bobbed to the quadrille echoing around the dancing figures and chatting groups. She sipped her lemonade. 

In her head she was writing a letter. Imagining exactly what she was going to say about this night to Sir Philip. There were never any balls at Romney Hall. 

She was about to sip her lemonade again when she heard her name.

Sophie was behind her looking ashen.

“Are you well, Sophie? I only ask because you look as though you might-“ 

“Penelope needs you.”

Eloise put her glass down.

“Where is she? Is she not with Colin?”

Sophie shook her head and stepped away. Eloise hurried after.

She did not know what she expected to find inside her bedchamber but it was not Penelope in her lovely gown quite broken down and sobbing against her sheets.

“Pen?” She asked, fear bubbling inside.

Penelope sat up, “El, you are here. Oh. I have ruined everything. I have made a terrible mistake.” 

El rushed to the bed, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. “What is it?”

“I have been found out. By Lord Fife, he is blackmailing me.”

“Blackmailing?” 

“I gave him everything I had, all my money. But he wants more, he will come back.” 

Eloise could feel her shaking. “How did he find out?”

“He was the one who discovered Francesca, he noticed me in the hallway and knew I was the only one who could have written the piece about her.” 

Eloise’s heart sank. She had been the one to ask Penelope to write the piece.

“How much longer do you believe you will have to pay him?”

Penelope wiped her face. “I cannot guess. But El, when he first approached me it was not money he wanted from me. He wanted other things.”

“Such as what?”

“Such as the very things that cause scandal.”

“Oh no.”

“When he is bored and has enough money and I still will not give him anything else what is to say he will not go to the Queen then? Or spread gossip about me? I do not know what to do?”

Eloise chewed at the nail on her thumb. There was something to do. She had an idea, it was ill formed and she was not sure exactly how it would work, but it had worked before. 

“Pen, there is something we can do, but we will have to talk to Colin.”

Colin was growing sick. He was about to go screaming through the ballroom for everyone to find Penelope. Had someone intercepted her on the way to drawing room? If only he could find Eloise. Eloise.

There she was, a streak of light blue moving through the beams shining from the doors he had opened and rooms he had lit as he worked his way up through the house.

He grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking slightly. “Have you seen Penelope?”

“Calm down, brother.” Eloise said, batting him away. “She is up in my bedchamber. I have come to take you to her.”

“Your bed chamber? Why in the world is she there?” He spat, pushing past her in a storm.

Eloise began to trot behind him. “There is a reason. It is bad, but you must remember she is unhurt.”

Colin whirled around. “There was a chance she might have been hurt?”

“You are acting like Anthony. You are supposed to be the level headed one. It will not do anyone any good if you behave rashly, her safety is on the line. You cannot go after him.”

Colin stopped again abruptly. Him . A lashing of white-hot anger he had never before felt in his life whipped through his body.

“Him?”

Eloise looked somewhat frightened. “Lord Fife. He has discovered who she is and threatened to expose her if she did not…if she did not give him money. He has taken all her earnings.”

Colin’s eardrums pulsated. There was something his sister was not saying. He needed to see Penelope.

Colin marched the rest of the way to the bedroom and threw the doors open.

She was almost serene. It was evident that she had been crying but had done her best to clean up all evidence. She looked up from where she was sitting and smiled a small smile. How many times before had he seen that smile? She had loved him her whole life and he could not count the times he mistook that smile for something true, convinced all was well with her when inside she must have felt agony. 

He cared not that Eloise was but two steps behind him. Colin dropped to his knees beside the bed and pulled her to him, wrapping her tightly as his arms would allow.

“This is all my fault.” He breathed. “I should have never made you leave the party.”

“I was intercepted before I left the ballroom, it was not your doing.”

“I should have been with you.”

“You cannot always be with me.”

He lowered his voice so much so he was certain Eloise would not hear. “I should kill him.”

Penelope went still in his arms. Breathing quiet. “Cressida Cowper is involved. You could not do away with her as well.”

He could not. Truth be told he may not have even been capable of hurting Fife. As much as he hated both of them. 

“All is well.” Penelope said, pushing him back. “Eloise and I have devised a plan, it requires your help but I am certain it shall work.”

Colin moved away from her.

“Now you must listen to us until the end.” Eloise said from somewhere near the doorway. “You will not like what we have to say at first.”

Colin sat back and listened to their plan. He tried protesting it vehemently. In the end, however, this was Pen. She knew better than anyone the consequences this would bring about. It was her decision.

“So do you think you could speak to Fife?” Eloise queried. “Without seeing yourself to the gallows?”

Colin hesitated. 

“It is not just him this plan would ward off but the Queen and Cressida as well.” Pen explained.

He could see the appeal of that. “I will.” He told them both.

“There is one thing more.” Penelope said, earning her two confused stares. “We need to tell Anthony.”

“Bridgerton?” Colin clarified as at the same time Eloise asked, “the Viscount?”

“Yes.” Penelope insisted. “He is the head of this family. If any of this goes awry it could affect you all. I will not make such a decision without his consent.” She looked meaningfully at Eloise, her chin set. 

“Alright then, Colin, you go and get Anthony and we…shall be in the study.” Eloise said, clearly glad she was not the one tasked with getting their older brother. 

Anthony was quite content indeed. Kate was aglow. How splendidly she had organized the night. Now he got to hold her as they danced.

“There he goes again, the little Viscount.” Kate sighed.

Anthony brought his hand to her bump and grinned at her as he felt the strong kicks. His eyes met his wife’s who smiled back at him. “Could it not be a she?” He asked.

“A girl would not kick her mother so relentlessly.” Kate insisted. 

“But she would be your daughter, surely that counts for something.” He teased back, leaning toward her for a kiss.

“Brother?”

He paused, mentally calculating why Colin was speaking to him now. Ah yes, his fiancée had been missing. 

“Did you not find Eloise?” He asked.

“I did. She was with Penelope.”

“Ah, then all is well it seems.” 

“Not quite. We all wish to speak to you.”

Anthony turned from his wife and stepped from the dance floor. The girl was pregnant. That had to be it. It was not yet a fortnight into their engagement. They had to have started liaising before the day he ran into the girl outside Colin’s bedchamber.

“Take me to them.” Anthony sighed. How to convince the bishop for a special license? The truth? Certainly not.

“Is something the matter?” Kate asked, pausing her husband’s step.

Anthony turned back to her. “Not at all. I know exactly what this is about. I shall return shortly indeed.”

“You do?” Colin asked in surprise.

Anthony shot his younger brother the most condescending look he could muster. “Believe me, this situation is not unique, nor is it surprising. I believe we shall reach a hasty resolution.”

“Indeed.” Colin said, somewhat warily. “Then you had best come to your study.” 

Anthony walked cockily to the half open room where his sister and Penelope Featherington sat, looking somber indeed. It mattered not. There would be a swift wedding and the ton would be none the wiser.

“You had best sit down.” Colin said.

To humor them Anthony settled himself behind his desk, holding back a smile that was threatening to form. 

To his surprise, it was Penelope who stood.

“Thank you for meeting us here.” She said, her voice firm. She stood straight. He had to commend her for her bravery, he did not think she had ever uttered more than two words to him before. “We wished to speak to you in the capacity as head of your family. There is something you need to know.”

Anthony gestured for her to continue.

“I am Lady Whistledown. I am also under blackmail at the hand of Lord Fife.”

Anthony scrambled to sit up straighter. He looked first at Eloise and then Colin who seemed completely unperturbed. 

He grinned. Then laughed. “A very clever prank you three.”

None of them laughed back.

“I assure you, I do not jest.” Penelope insisted, her voice still firm and heavy. 

“Of course you do. Lady Whistledown is a vile, miserly old woman with money, somewhere on the edges of society. She wrote that piece about Eloise…”

“Yes about that.” Eloise said. “What you need to know about that is I had been threatened by the Queen, who did believe I was Whistledown and if Penelope had not persuaded her to leave me alone with that piece she was going to force me to write for her lest our whole family be destroyed.”

“It is also why they were not talking for so long.” Colin pointed out.

“I was wrong. I should have told her my plan ahead of time as it concerned her. That is why now I am insisting on telling you my new plan. It shall involve your family and if you still allow me to marry Colin after hearing it, well your family shall continue to face the risk of my discovery.”

Anthony was beginning to feel less sure this was all a joke. “There is a plan?” He asked, voice somewhat strangled.

“Yes.” They said in unison.

“I was so glad when Anthony told me your and Colin’s wedding was to be a grand event.” Violet smiled as she finished yet another blue and yellow flower arrangement.

Penelope had insisted on the blue and Colin on the yellow.

“It is not often that a third son gets such a celebration but Colin, he is such a romantic, is he not? I am sure this means so much to him.”

“Indeed it does. He has had many surprising opinions.” Penelope agreed as she too pushed stems into place.

“Edmund and I never got such a celebration. Though we both would have loved one. We were in such a rush…” she peeked at Penelope’s face. “Because we were so in love!” She finished quickly. “Not that you and Colin are not in love of course, I can see that you are.”

Colin walked by then, carrying a bowl of hydrangeas. “Can you believe they thought these pass as blue? They are positively purple.” He grumbled as he went to look for somebody to complain to.

“Penelope! The modiste is here and she is trying to tell me you have insisted there are to be no bows upon your gown. Are you sure? They are a most feminine adornment!”

“I assure you Lady Featherington, the gown is quite complete, even if you were to convince Penelope to add a bow, the fabric would not take to it!” Madame Delacroix argued as she followed the matriarch.

Portia made a sound of disgust and left again, no doubt looking for someone else to order about.

Violet caught Penelope’s eye and the two of them giggled.

“You are so good to be patient. I must admit I struggled holding my tongue around my mother as she tried in earnest to hold on to me.” Violet sighed. “She had such strong opinions on what a girl should be like and I found I was always disappointing her in that regard.” 

Penelope smiled at the distant look that crossed Violet Bridgerton’s face. “I suppose I am lucky I have two older sisters to share the spotlight with.” 

“Quite.” Violet smiled. “I was the only girl. The only child in fact. I was not even allowed to read in case it gave me ideas.”

Penelope laughed as Colin came back holding baby blue hydrangeas.

“I believe I have heeded similar warnings pertaining to the dangers of books. She told her future mother in law.

“You know Edmund and I were such close friends.” Violet said, her face utterly changing. Her eyes grew misty, wistful. And her lips softened. “I was a girl much like you. Always finding myself on the corners of things. More content to watch most of the time and Edmund would never let me get away with it.” She laughed. “Always, he would insist on two dances, no matter the event. He would never let me go home without having at least some fun.” She looked at Colin who had come to stand behind Pen. “It took us the longest time to realize our friendship could be something more than what it was.”

With that she walked away, holding her finished arrangement, a distant smile on her face.

“What was all that?” Colin asked.

“I am not sure.” Penelope replied.

Before Colin could say anything more, Lady Featherington came tearing into the room.

“Philippa’s child has arrived!” She gushed out of breath. “You must come at once Penelope!”

Penelope found herself dragged away from her wedding preparations and hurried into a waiting carriage.

Not a half hour later she was sitting in the living room of the Finch’s

“It is a girl!” Her brother in law announced.

Portia looked concerned whilst Prudence sighed in relief.

“She has Philippa’s eyes.” He told them gleefully. “I shall bring you through and Philippa can tell you the name.”

A nurse came out and nodded and they all were shown through. Philippa looked quite small and exhausted among the sheets, her red hair hidden under a pink bonnet and a tiny wrapped bundle in her arms.

“You are all here.” She smiled up at her mother and sisters. “Come and look, she really is quite pretty.”

Penelope watched as her mother melted, sinking into the bed to peer over the little bundle.

“Her name is Pandora.” Philippa said. “Pandora Prudence Finch”

Prudence squealed in delight. “You have named her after me?” She asked.

“Of course I have, you are my closest friend.” Philippa said as though it were terribly obvious.

Penelope waited patiently for her mother and sister and finally the baby was passed into her arms. 

The tiny girl was stirring and very slowly her large dark-blue eyes cracked open and blinked closed. Small spindly fingers opening and closing.

“She is remarkably pretty.” Penelope could not help but to say, taking in the bow of her lips and the length of her lashes. 

“Featherington girls always are.” Portia said softly.

Colin shot out of bed the next morning, not having slept a wink.

He was too excited for this day. A day, he was not ashamed to admit, he had dreamed of since he was a little boy. And he was marrying Penelope.

He made sure to bathe thoroughly and shave, asking his valet to dress him in his new shirt and suit carefully, double checking every button shon and not a wrinkle was in sight.

For once, his family seemed equally excited for one of his passions. Everyone had arisen early and were getting ready.

“Oh Colin! You look so handsome!” Fran squealed, her hair still curling around rags. 

“So you can look half decent when you try.” Eloise added as she squinted at his face.

“I have been trying.”

“You will be glad to hear that My Cottage is fully prepared and awaiting your arrival after your nuptials, brother. You and your bride should be very pleased with how it has brushed up.”

“I cannot believe how sweet you are delaying your real honeymoon until after my wedding!” Francesca gushed. 

“Yes, considering Daphne could not make it to either.” Eloise grumbled.

“She has just given birth. Penelope’s sister will not be making an appearance either.” Colin defended. “It is eating Daph alive that she will not make it.”

Violet entered the room and gasped. “Look at you all, only half dressed. The wedding is in but a few hours! The Featherington’s are already there! You must make haste!”

The siblings scrambled to their various places in the house.

“Oh Colin.” Violet said, voice soft as she took him in. “How handsome you look.” She took his face in her hands, having to reach up a ways. “I am so proud of you for not losing her. You two shall be so happy together.”

Penelope fidgeted nervously as she was fitted into her gown.

It was Genevieve’s finest creation yet.

Somehow, Penelope approaching her in tears to confess she had no money left to pay for the gown had mattered not. Genevieve had said she had already ordered the material from Paris when the engagement was announced and it would not go to waste. 

Penelope did not feel she lived up to the finery draped upon her.

It was white and flowy, every wisp of material dripped with romance. Threads of silver laced into subtle designs.

Jane and other lady’s maids worked since the dark hours of the morning to pat colours into her sleepless skin and curl her hair softly, pinning white sprays of flowers in every section.

The woman who looked back at her was no one Penelope recognised. She looked so happy. So loved. A beautiful angelic soul who knew she was always to be cherished. 

“Just think, today you will become a Bridgerton.” Portia said, coming up behind her to fix a veil in her hair.

“I suppose you never imagined such a thing was possible.” Penelope replied.

Soon the doors would open and she would walk down the aisle to Colin. 

Portia grew quiet. “It is true, they are a well liked family, you will gain a lot by marrying into them.”Her hands stilled on her daughter’s hair. When she spoke again her voice was thick with emotion. 

“But it is far more important to me that you are marrying a kind man. Someone who will never forsake you. That is all I ever wished for you girls.” 

“Mama?” Penelope tried to turn, hearing her mother’s voice break but she was held in place as Portia fussed again with her hair and veil.

“I know I have not been a perfect mother to you Penelope but that has not meant I have not wanted what was best for you. I am sorry I have not had more faith in you. That I was blind to the strong, insightful woman I see before me now.” 

“Mama, are you alright?”

“No. Let us not fuss over me. Now I have something for you.” Her mother said, sniffing. “I know it is no longer your taste but it is small so I was hoping you would make an exception.”

Portia held out a delicate pin, topped with a little yellow butterfly. 

“You always loved them as a little girl and hoped that maybe you would wear a little of the family colours on your wedding day. I could place it at the back? Where no one shall see it.”

Penelope smiled. “I love it.” She replied truthfully. In her matured heart she still held a fondness for butterflies. “However, I believe it should look better at the front of my hair.”

Just as the music began outside the doors Penelope would soon walk through, her mother slid the pin into her youngest daughter’s hair, for the last time leaving her touch upon her appearance. 

Colin’s heart raced as the music began.

“You are not thinking of running now are you brother?” 

“If I ran anywhere it would be down that aisle to drag her out here and make it all go quicker.” Colin grinned at Benedict. 

His older brother’s face softened. “You are lucky to have found what you have so young. I envy you.” 

“I am sure it will be your turn one day soon.” Colin replied, little red headed flower girls from the Featherington side were making their way towards them now. Soon Prudence and his sisters would come down and then, finally, he would get to see her.

“Let us hope.” Benedict said.

Colin did not hear.

Francesca, Hyacinth and Prudence were halfway down the aisle and everyone was beginning to stand.

He could not breath for anticipation.

As slowly as was possible the doors cracked, illuminated brightly by a stream of yellow light. At first, all he could see was the shadow of her figure. An outline. Obscured from him. Then she stepped forward, into the light.

His breath was stolen. 

He could not help it. As the reality crashed around him that she was his and was willing to be his forever.

That he would never have to miss her again, that with her he would never not be at home. Because she was home. She was Penelope.

His throat gripped tight and his eyes spilled over with tears.

She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Benedict passed him a handkerchief. 

By the time she reached him her cheeks too were pink with tears. “I saw you crying and I could not help it.” She said once she was close enough.

He laughed. All he could see was her. He had quite forgotten the large crowd of friends and family as well as the reverend residing. 

“You are the most beautiful person I have ever looked at.” He told her. “I cannot believe I have the good fortune of marrying you.” 

She laughed as he reached out to wipe her cheeks.

The reverend cleared his throat. “Shall we begin?” 

He began his sermon to all their guests.

Colin could not hear as he smiled at Penelope and she smiled at him, both of them unable to stop their tears.

“The rings?”

Benedict nudged him as he handed over the gold piece. Colin recited the words gleefully as he slid the ring on Penelope’s finger.

He savored the moment, going slowly. Soon their bubble would burst. There was a reason Eloise did not stand with them. Their plan was in motion. 

“With the power vested in me, I now pronounce thee, husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Before Colin’s lips met Penelope’s he could already hear the rustle of paper being passed from hand to hand, followed by gasps and even a strangled cry.

They were reading Whistledown.

It did not stop him, with a small smile on his tear stained lips, he met his wife and kissed her with all the fire and passion their holy setting would allow. “I am sorry I am such a mess.” He heard her whisper as she pulled away.

”but you are my mess.” He replied, smiling.

Chapter Text

Dearest gentle reader,

How I have had to rush to get this news to you. Time will tell if I was but a minute too late. For a most terrible scandal has been putrefying under our noses, unnoticed and  unfoiled. It is one of the most egregious acts your beloved author has come across in all her time observing our fair ton. It is the crime of seduction. The criminal, you may ask? One Penelope Featherington. Many in fashionable society have wondered how such an insipid wallflower could ensnare a Bridgerton. Well, no secret can stay still for long and neither could Miss Featherington. You see, far from chaste, this vulpine woman used the only asset she had to lure Mister Colin Bridgerton to the wedding altar. I can only hope that my pen shall be quick enough so that my exposure of her fiendish plan will put a stop to this most terrible scheme. 

Their wedding breakfast was canceled for reasons quite obvious to everyone involved. In fact, as people looked around in horror after lifting their noses from the torrid pamphlet, the couple it featured were nowhere in sight. Had the groom taken his chance to flee the evil succubus who had sunk her claws into him? They hoped so. 

In reality, the groom was in a carriage headed to My Cottage, quite content with his wife pulled into his lap, kissing her quite senseless. 

“You were quite clever securing us a place out of London where we can lay low.”

“Say that again.” He panted, breathless from kissing her. “Tell me again how clever I am. It means quite a lot coming from Lady Whistledown.”

“You are quite clever.” She giggled, bending her face back to his. 

“I still cannot believe that you utterly destroyed your reputation.”

“Exactly. My reputation. Not your family’s.”

“Our family’s.” He corrected her.

“Our family’s reputation. It is better that my reputation is ruined now and our family remains unscathed rather than it be discovered or believed that I am Whistledown and our family bears the brunt of the damage.”

“No one would ever believe that you are her now. Seductress that you are.” 

“I believe, in truth, I was the one seduced, were you not the one suggesting we kiss at your own mother’s birthday ball?”

“Who was the one who appeared in my bed chamber wearing a thin day dress soaked through to her skin?” 

“Who asked me to stay?”

“How could I have done anything else? You had me thinking all manner of depraved things, touching me as you were.”

“Your hand was bleeding!” She giggled. “Would you rather I let you bleed out?” 

Colin shook his head and began to kiss her neck. “No. I am definitely not complaining about the touching. In fact I should very much enjoy more of it, Penelope Bridgerton.” 

He leaned back to grin at her as he said her name. 

“Do you really think that is my name now? What if we left too quickly for things to be finalized.”

“Anthony would make sure all the legalities are dealt with. I assure you, you are my wife.”

She stroked his hair away from his face. “And you are my husband.” she said in awe.

They both burst into giddy laughter. 

“Tell me, what wise notions did your mother prepare you with? What are you to expect from your wedding night.” 

“Well…she told me I am to lie back and allow you your pleasure.” She giggled. 

“And what of your pleasure?” He asked, returning to her neck. 

“It did not come up.” Penelope admitted, suddenly breathless. 

“Well.” He continued kissing her. “If it is my pleasure we are to focus on, let me tell you what it is I want.”

Penelope gasped as his teeth met with a particularly tender part of her throat.

“I want to see you.” He whispered against the skin he had grazed. “As soon as we are alone. I wish to see you sitting up.” 

His hands come up her body to squeeze her breasts through the bodice of her wedding gown.

“I want to be able to see them full and lovely and large.” He squeezed again to make his point. “And then.” She held her breath as he nipped her. “I want to crawl up behind you and cup you. And I want to do it all in front of a mirror.”

Her breath came out in a shudder. The image of herself bare, reflected in the glass with him behind her, eyes dark and locked with hers swum behind her vision.

“Later?” She asked. 

“Tonight.” He said. “As soon as we are inside.

“Tonight.” She agreed in a whisper. 

As they came to a rocking stop the sunset was orange overhead, bathing the flowering crab trees magenta. There was something grand about the cottage, the way it stood tall, but the private growth of the front garden had a Wordsworthian quality to it. A child might have believed fairies dwelt within. Colin had been holding his new wife as she slept. His jacket now blanketed her and he happily stroked the waves of her hair. There would be no Whistledown here. No Fife, or crown or blackmail. They would assess the damage they had left when they returned for Francesca’s wedding. 

Going to Fife had been the hardest and most grotesque thing he had ever done. He had enough to draw from. Every smoking room conversation and school yard banter about the conquest of ladies that he had ever overheard was at his disposal. He was even able to echo Fife’s own words back to him, describing Penelope, his closest friend, and the person who possessed him heart and soul, in such derogatory language that he wondered if he would ever forgive himself.

Colin had convinced the vile man that the money was his. That Penelope had offered herself to him for financial assistance. Far from being Whistledown she was merely a desperate young girl and he could not turn down the opportunity, having been away from London for so long and not being ready to marry. However, now that they had been caught, he was indeed going to be forced to marry her.

He expected that with those careful lies and the Whistledown pamphlet that not only interrupted their wedding day but destroyed Penelope’s image, there would be enough so that if Fife ever did decide to start crowing. No one would believe him. 

Still, he could not believe it. Somewhere he knew, if Penelope had not married him, she would not have gone so far. If her reputation did not have any bearings on his family, she would not have destroyed it so thoroughly. It frightened him. How intense and clever she was, the chaotic ways in which she thought and moved. Certain events were bathed in a whole new light. A version of Penelope he saw as no more than a little girl. An emblem of the childhood he was desperately trying to tear away from. Pulling him aside, warning him not to pursue Marina. And then the truth, exposed at the final hour, irreparably hurting the Featheringtons and their relationship to the ton. Hurting her. Hurting her chance at a future. And she had done it all for him. To save him from the cold steel jaws of a loveless marriage built on lies. Because she knew him, and knew that what he prized above all else was love and honesty.

And in a strange sort of way, was that not what she did with Whistledown, exposing the truth? He held her tighter as she stirred, sensing the stillness of the carriage. 

“We are here.” He whispered. “At Benedict’s cottage.”

She lifted and stretched, turning to peer out the window.

“Oh it is lovely.” She breathed. “Exactly like a fairytale.” The carriages holding Jane and a sparse group of other servants who had escaped the chaos of the wedding were pulling up behind.

Colin would not let Penelope touch the ground. She had been unable to change from her delicate gown and he felt it would be a travesty if she spoiled it now.

Inside, hearths were lit and crackling woody and warm. The scent of cinnamon, a spice Kate had introduced them to and which Benedict insisted on including into everything, dominated the air, laced with cloves and something else incredibly sweet. 

“Do you wish to eat?” He asked Penelope. Mostly because his own stomach felt painfully empty, having missed their own breakfast banquet.  She flashed a wicked smile and shook her head. His heartbeat quickened and he almost forgot his hunger. “We need to eat.” He told her.

“Let me go up before you. I need to be taken out from this gown and you can send something up for me. You eat down here, for your energy.” 

He realized he still held her and so carefully placed her down. 

“I will send for you.” She promised.

Penelope was braced for questions but Jane said nothing as she brushed out her hair. 

“I take it you read the Whistledown pamphlet?” Penelope broached as she wiped her own face with a warm cloth. 

“I take care not to read gossip.” Jane said carefully. “Though it was difficult not to overhear things in the mayhem.” 

“I see.”

“You need not worry. I know what it said was not true. You and your husband are a true love match, that is clear. If you did let your…affection get the better of you. Well, that is not seduction.” 

The door opened and Penelope saw a familiar maid enter. “Sophie?” She asked in surprise. 

“Miss Eloise Bridgerton sent her with us, I hope that suits?” Jane asked.

“It does.” Penelope replied, thinking of the night Fife blackmailed her and wondering what Sophie thought now. “Does it suit you, Sophie?”

The other woman approached Penelope. 

“I pay no credence to the rumors of seduction, I can assure you.” She said, “I once admired Whistledown. I never knew her to be so base and cruel.”

Sophie took over from Jane, who was starting to make Penelope’s curls frizz and with her expert hand began to restore them. 

“You will never stop reading her.” Jane teased. 

“I might now.” Sophie replied, face serious. 

“I never knew Benedict owned a residence so far from London.” Penelope said, thinking of anything to change the subject. “I do not believe I could stay this far from things. There would be too much I would miss.”

“You were supposed to work out here, were you not?” Jane asked Sophie. “Before the Viscount assigned you to be a lady’s maid.”

“It was mentioned.” Sophie said quietly, a strange expression on her face. “I am simply grateful to be where I am.” 

As Penelope finished the last of the food that had been brought up to her, the two women helped Penelope carefully from her gown and dressed her in a lacy night dress. 

“I will tell everyone we are dismissed until late tomorrow morning?” Jane asked with a smile.

“I do believe there is an inn and tavern down the road.” Sophie suggested.

“Far out of earshot.”

“Looked quite welcoming.” 

Penelope blushed.

“We will be sure to send your husband up to you on our way out.”

“Your very tall husband.”

“Have a good night, Mrs Bridgerton.”

Penelope laughed nervously as they hurried from the room, impish smiles on their faces. 

As soon as they were gone however, she wrung her hands, for there was a large ornate mirror hanging on the far wall that had not escaped her attention. 

Colin ate quickly and without tasting anything. He checked twice that something had been sent up to Penelope. Forgetting he had already asked.

His wife was waiting for him.

Cleaning himself quickly, he noticed that all the staff had made themselves scarce. A thrill ran through his body. It was not as though he had forgotten the intimacy they had already enjoyed. But this was their wedding night. This was something different.

Leaving his boots, waistcoat and cravat behind he walked up the stairs barefoot and with his shirt untucked. 

She sat facing away from him.

It was only when he reached her that he noticed that she was looking into a large mirror. He sat on the bed behind her.

“We do not have to, you know?” He said to her, brushing her hair away to find the back of her neck with his lips. “If you do not want to?”

“Who said I do not want to?” She asked, her eyes not leaving his in their reflection. “To be able to watch you…well it is a rather thrilling thought.”

Her cheeks were pink and the room was warm, the fire built high in its home. Made to last all night. He reached for her night dress.

“No.” She said, eyes still blazing into him. “You first. I would like to watch.”

He paused. There was a change in her. Something primal and honest. His stomach clenched at the thought of it. He had never seen her look at him so confidently.

He moved his fingers to the buttons of his shirt, slowly undoing them one by one. Pushing up onto his knees so he could reveal himself to her entirely. His awareness pricked as his shirt fell away from his body and onto the bed. Her gaze did not leave their reflection. Feeling her watch him made him achingly hard.

He moved his hands to his breeches, slowly untying the laces. the material there was already strained tight. It was a relief to push it down his hips, meeting his knees against the mattress.

He looked up in time to see her still watching, she dragged her bottom lip between her teeth. He had heard the way her breathing deepened as she followed his hands with her eyes. Now her chest moved up and down, her breasts straining against the thin lace wrapped against them. He flexed his jaw as his mouth watered just from looking at her. 

“Look at me.” He told her and she turned her back on the mirror. Satisfaction shot through him at how quickly she had wanted to do what he told her. 

Penelope turned her face away from their reflections. Seeing Colin even more stunning than the divine being that had reflected back at her. 

His breath tickled her lips in puffs as he brought her face to his, holding her jaw. “I should never let you leave here.” He said darkly.

“What if I never wish to go?”

He moaned as he captured her bottom lip between his teeth, dragging it away. She pressed her body tighter against the shape of him. She felt his lips and breath leave her face. He was looking over her shoulder. The hand at her jaw slid down her neck to her shoulder, taking the delicate lace strap of her nightgown down with it.

“Take it off.” He told her, his voice heavy with desire. “Slowly, so I can watch you.”

Penelope was emboldened. She looked up at him, not breaking eye contact as she pulled down the other strap, leaving the lace so that it barely still clung to her breasts.

“Stop.” He said. She did. “Turn around. So you can see yourself.”

Her breath caught. He simply stared at her. She realised that if she wanted to say no she could but instead she wanted to know his every desire and make herself the object of them all. 

She turned around. Her body shielding only part of his nakedness from view. she felt his hand on her neck, tipping her head to one side. Her hair slid away from her shoulder as he brushed it back, placing his lips against her skin. 

She reached to pull down the rest of her gown again. “Not yet.” He told her as he kissed his way from her shoulder to her ear. Finding the sensitive skin there he sucked, making Penelope shudder. “Crawl off the bed.” He said right into the swirl of her ear “and stand in front of your reflection.”

He let her go. Still trembling with the feeling of his words rolling down her neck she came to her hands and knees. She reached the end of the bed and hooked one bare foot over and then the other.

As she padded over to the mirror, she was aware of him standing up to follow her. He came to stand behind her, her head only reaching the bottom of his shoulders. Where his heart beat. She revelled at the feeling of being towered over. 

“Look at how beautiful you are.” He whispered  to her. His hands resting on her shoulders.

She dragged her focus away from him. His fingers picked up where she had left her nightgown, pulling the thin lace over her peaked nipples. Swollen hard despite the warmth coming from the fire.

Her eyes fluttered shut as the material scratched her sensitive skin. “Look.” He reminded her. Her breathing quickened as her eyes opened. He was looking at her, eyes trailing over her skin hungrily. She could not help but see what he did. She was Venus like, soft and womanly. 

He slowly dragged the material down further, over her belly, leaving it at her hips. She heard him inhale as his hands moved over her, touching her exposed skin, moving up to her breasts. “Watch what I am doing to you.” 

His hands cupped each breast, holding the weight of them, squeezing them. His eyes met hers in the mirror and he smirked devilishly. She shivered as he adjusted his fingers so that her nipples popped between them. 

The way he watched her react heated her. She pushed back against him as he squeezed more. “Are you trying to move away or come closer?”

“Both?”

He smiled again, “good.”

She had to close her eyes as she moaned. As she did so, his hands let go and pushed the gown the rest of the way off and she opened her eyes to see herself naked. 

Her skin glowed in the warm firelight. Puckered with her desire. He pulled her hair back behind her shoulders so she could see all of herself. “You are a goddess.” He told her. 

Which one? A hysterical part of her brain wanted to ask. But she already knew. His.

His fingers trailed down to between her legs, enticing her to open for him. Like a wonton she could not help but step apart at his coaxing, he moaned as his fingers found her so wet. He traced circles, pushing inside of her. Finding her gaze again in the mirror he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them. She gasped. 

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked her.

She shook her head, “no.” She breathed. 

Colin pulled her to face him, not ready to leave their stage in front of the mirror. Frustratingly, he was too tall to kiss her how he wanted to. 

The desk nearby caught his eye. leading her by her hand he swept everything off the surface in one go. “Colin!” She gasped at the sound of something breaking. He could not bring himself to care. He grabbed her and lifted her to perch on the now empty surface. looking over he could see their reflections still, in profile. On instinct, it seemed, her legs lifted and wrapped around his waist. Oh God how he loved her.

As he was pulled against her he felt her heat, how wet she was. Any thoughts of dragging this out quickly died.

Crushing his mouth against hers, desperately kissing her as deeply as possible, he positioned himself at her entrance. He worked his way inside, feeling her groan into his mouth as he entered her. Feeling her open, take him in.

Pleasure washed from his head to his toes as he reached his hilt, pulling back from the kiss to breathe. 

“Look.” She whispered against his jaw. He turned his head.

They had both braced themselves on the desk, her perfect body against his, their hips joined. Her eyes met his in the mirror, pupils blown wide. He wanted to devour her.

He held her by her throat, grip gentle, kissing her slowly as he began to move. She moaned and let her knees fall wider, allowing him deeper.

His hand slid down her back, fingers digging into her flesh as he pulled her harder against his thrusts. She cried out beautifully for him. Clenching around him. 

Every thrust sent new waves of pleasure through her body. Whenever he was not kissing her she watched him in the mirror, his muscles moving like water under his skin. 

“Colin.” She panted as familiar, delicious tension swelled throughout her body as he relentlessly moved against her. She arched and squirmed, trying to find any relief from the burn of pleasure, too much pleasure. Then it hit that point. That point of no return. “Colin.” She gasped again as it reached the final gripping high. “Colin.” 

It released with a blinding shock. She was vaguely aware of her own voice crying out as she saw nothing but stars. Waves rolled through her as she slowly returned to herself. 

He pulled out. He was not done. She knew that. She was trembling too much to move and so he picked her up again and carried her to the bed. 

Crawling his way on top of her he kissed her deeply as she felt him pushing back inside. She was still so sensitive and as he sunk in another intense wave of pleasure forced her to cry out. 

Lifting her knee high, he pushed himself in even deeper. Moving faster. She felt her nails bite into the muscles of his back. Sliding down his skin to create rivets. 

Their rhythm was lost as they tried simply to get as close to one another as possible, as both forgot how to think. 

She clung to him, legs and hands, kissing him back whenever their mouths could find each other between gasps for air. 

Just as she thought there could not possibly be more, she began to tighten again. Her breathing changed, she moaned his name against his throat.

He did not slow or change the way he moved.

She made a small surprised sound followed by crying out his name as her body came undone beneath him again.

The sun was high in the sky by the time Penelope Bridgerton could crack open even one eye.

Their night had been eventful indeed. Not ending until the sun had begun to rise.

A chair stood with its back snapped by the window and the few items that had been on the nearby desk had been left where Colin had swept them onto the floor.

The sheets were twisted in all manner of directions.

She took her time to stretch, lifting her arms above her head.

Her husband shifted behind her and soon she felt his large arms wrap around her waist. He crushed her against his chest, holding her close as he slowly awoke.

She wriggled herself around to face him.

There was a small smile on his face but it seemed distant.

“You look disappointed?” 

“Not with you.” He admitted. Kissing her lips.

“What with?”

“I hoped by now we would be leaving on our honeymoon trip. I wanted to take you somewhere I thought you would like. I was thinking of Venice.”

“We can still go, once your sister is married.”

“Then it shall be your sister’s wedding.” 

“Then we shall go after that.” She said trying to stay bright.

“What of Whistledown?”

“What of her?”

“If she is away with me in Venice and not in London, who will publish? And if she does not publish, will people not notice you are gone?”

Penelope had not thought of that. “We will have to leave in the off season.” She realized out loud. “And return before the next.”

That did severely limit the length and distance they could travel. It did not discount Venice, however. She told him as much.

“You are right.” He said, kissing her head. “For now we have Venice. And maybe, one day, Lady Whistledown will retire and we can truly have our adventures.”

For the first time Penelope considered doing just that.

It was so easy in that moment to fall into a slow and lazy kiss, and easier again for him to move his way on top of her so they could resume their love making.

She wondered if it was normal to be able to be so completely satisfied so often and yet never feeling like she could have enough. 

It was well past noon when Colin and Penelope managed to make it down stairs. Remarkably both clean and dressed.

A few servants were discreetly moving about and some trays of food were quickly brought to them. Just as they sat to take their first bites, another tray was brought over.

“Someone called earlier today.” 

Penelope picked up the note before Colin could reach for it.

“Lady Danbury?”

“Shall I tell her the two of you are now able to receive her?”

Both were silent.

Neither could think of a good reason as to why Lady Danbury of all people would be interrupting their honeymoon. Though, considering the chaos they had left behind, it certainly could not be good.

The woman stood tall in the drawing room of the cottage. Without thinking, Colin stepped before his wife and bowed to the dowager. 

“May I ask which of us you have come to speak to?” He asked.

Lady Danbury pursed her lips. “Is there any point talking to one of you without the other. You would both know my business soon enough.” 

“Then may we offer you a drink?”

“Tea. Thank you.” 

Penelope and Colin only allowed themselves to sit once their guest sank into her own chair. 

“You left quite the ruckus behind yourselves. I never knew Lady Whistledown to use dishonesty and so maliciously. Whichever circumstances caused this must be quite unusual.”

Colin glanced at Penelope and noticed she was unsurprised. Did Lady Danbury know? 

“Circumstances are strange.” Penelope spoke up. “Thought we hoped…under control by now.”

“Believe me, I would not be here bursting your love bubble if things were under control. I cannot begin to explain to you how quickly it circulated that Penelope Featherington might be Lady Whistledown. Well. With that thoroughly disproven, the ton are now invigorated to a level of excitement I have not seen in all my years.”

“How bad is it?” Colin asked.

Danbury purses her lips. “Let us see. Lady Blackwell and Lord Liebling found themselves scrambling to follow the same unmarked carriage and the former sprained her ankle. At a soirée I held last night, I found people hiding in the library snooping for goodness knows what. Small delivery boys have begun to be chased down the street. And this morning, before I decided to come here, Miss Eloise Bridgerton had a letter snatched from her hands because someone was certain they had read the word whistledown upon it.”

Both husband and wife shared a concerned look.

“You will be relieved to know the word was Watsonia .” Danbury added pointedly. 

“Do you believe it is time for Lady Whistledown to retire?” Penelope asked.

“So soon after you are married?” Lady Danbury snapped. Dropping all pretense. “Undoing all the footing you gained by writing what you did? No. I propose the opposite.”

“Which is?” Colin asked.

“Return to London, in secret of course, stay close to this unprecedented chaos and report on it. Keep the scent away from yourselves.” 

“What then?” Penelope asked weakly. “What if it does not die down?”

Danbury flashed her gaze toward her. “Come on, clever girl. Why do you think I am here? Is it not obvious?”

“Why are you here?” 

“To offer myself as your scapegoat.”

Lady Danbury held her hand up to quell any protest.

“You said so yourself. I am such an obvious choice that no one expects it is me. However, everyone thinks the writer is a wealthy, miserable widow. I do believe I could sell the idea convincingly.”

“Why would you do that?” Penelope asked.

“Because I like you.” Danbury insisted. “But more importantly.” She sighed. “I hold it against neither of you, young as you are, to not know the history of our world. Good society does not talk of such things. But there was a time, not long ago, when I would have been shunned from everything only for the colour of my skin. And it did not escape my notice that even were my skin as white as yours, it mattered very little as I would still be held down for the virtue of my sex. It is not often that anything happens in society to free the oppressed even a little. In fact, most work every day to take that freedom away bit by bit. Your column may be finding its feet. You have not yet learned to wield your power in the most ethical way. However, it is the only thing holding most bad actors accountable at this very moment. It is a voice for women. Very privileged women, but women nonetheless. And it is a ray of hope and entertainment for those in truly dismal situations. It would break my heart if it all ended too soon.”

“But if you were to take the blame for being Whistledown, would it not all have to end?” Penelope queried.

“It would buy you time. I would not come out explicitly. I have my ways of making people think what I like. And should the crown turn its sharp eye upon the two of you…well. I have lived a long life and have faced things much more frightening than the gallows.”

Penelope gasped and Colin found himself grabbing her hand. “I will not allow you to do that for me!” Penelope said with a fierceness he did not expect.

He very much could allow Lady Danbury to do such a thing. He had an image of Penelope being led by an executioner flashing through his mind and he could not shake it. 

“It is a good thing that I seek neither your permission nor your approval.” Danbury shot back with her own fierceness. “Play your cards right and I will never have to play mine. But know that it is there. Now, I expect both of you to be returned home by this afternoon.”

By the time the sun set that night, both the newlywed Bridgertons sat in the informal drawing room of Bridgerton house and watched zealous sleuths stalk about on the street below, chasing one another and snatching papers out of the hands of anyone unaware enough to walk by.

Despite marrying an Earl, Francesca’s wedding later that week had an intimate feel to it.

It was sweet and Francesca glowed with happiness as she and John were made husband and wife.

As the party of Bridgertons stood chatting merrily, the two Stirling cousins spoke quietly in a corner, their bodies hushed and tense.

Penelope was shaken out of her observation as two delicate arms in white sleeves wrapped around her.

“Thank you so much for what you did for me.” She heard the bride whisper.

She pulled back in surprise. “I do not recall doing anything of note.”

Francesca’s eyes danced as the corners of her lips lifted. “I saw you outside the room the night Lord Fife and Cressida Cowper found me. I know it had to be you who wrote the pamphlet that saved me. That brought John back to me.”

Penelope was saved from responding as the Earl and his cousin came over. 

“Francesca, it is good to see you again.” Michael Stirling said.

“Likewise.” Francesca said with an iciness Penelope had never heard from her before. “I know how much it meant to John for you to be here. I am glad you made the effort.”

There was a heavy silence.

“I wanted to let you know that I have explained to my cousin all about our misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding?”

“Yes. On the night we met and I took you aside to tell you that my cousin could not have found a more wonderful match and that I approve entirely.”

“I see.”

“Of course I take full responsibility for not procuring a chaperone for you and I have made it clear that such a situation shall never repeat itself. My cousin ensures me that all shall be forgiven, on the chance that his lovely bride might find it in her heart to forgive and forget?”

Francesca took a breath. “Consider it forgiven.” She said,

Both men grinned identically. 

“Wonderful!” John exclaimed. “And to think we shall all be in Scotland together soon. You will have to help me show her all our favourite haunts!”

Michael rubbed his face. “As much as I would love to do such a thing. There is last minute business I must attend to.”

“This is the first I have heard of it.” John said, face dropping to a frown. “When shall we all be together again?”

“I do not think it will take me more than a few months.”

John still did not look pleased. Francesca was glancing with concern between the two men. 

John looked at his new wife and picked up her hand. “Take as long as you need.” He said, his face returning to contentment. “We are all family now after all. I am sure we shall all be together again before too long.”

“Consider it a promise.” Michael smiled. “Now let us go and eat. I for one am starving.”

Penelope found herself avoiding the small smattering of guests the Bridgertons had invited.

They had a remarkable way of giving her the most disapproving of glares whilst affording Colin the most sympathetic.

They were shocked indeed to see her dressed in the same seafoam gown as the bride’s sisters. As if the well liked family were not going to viscously ostracize the harlot among them.

The family, including Penelope, seemed altogether unperturbed as they stood in the square and waved the newest newlyweds away as they entered their carriage for Scotland. 

By that afternoon, Penelope, Eloise and Colin were back to Whistledown business. 

Dearest gentle reader,

It has been said that failure comes when one stays where they have fallen. And whilst I have found myself surprisingly comfortable lying before you all, it is time I arose again. 

How refreshing it is to see this latest Bridgerton bride change from her wedding dress before alighting her carriage. After all, Penelope Bridgerton found herself without the time to do so as she fled my judgment. 

Fortunately, the elite few of good society who were given entrance to the ceremony between the Earl and his beloved were said to be on their best behavior, not enforcing any more embarrassment on the family who, by all appearances, have accepted their red haired addition. Or at the very least put up with her. 

Colin and Eloise had been working in tandem to carry Penelope’s drafts from Mayfair to the drop of location. Today was Eloise’s turn, she still had not returned and Penelope’s stomach was twisting itself into knots.

“I have been thinking about when I might retire.” Penelope told Colin as the day of Francesca’s wedding closed into night and they still waited for Eloise to return.

“I just cannot see myself continuing to put everyone I care about in danger for gossip.”

Colin took her hand from the floor where she had rested it.

“You know that a lot of us would be far worse off if you did not print your gossip.” He leant in to kiss her head. “And your pamphlet is far more than that.”

“I just keep thinking every time you or Eloise leaves that you will not return and that someone will have found you out.”

“But we do return. We are far less likely to be caught out than you.” 

There was a knock at the bed chamber door. Colin got up from where they sat on the carpet and opened it. 

“Humboldt?”

“Eloise!” Penelope gasped. She shot up from the floor.

“Your brother wishes to see you in his study, immediately.”

Penelope wasted no time, she pushed past. All her nightmares flashed before her eyes as she rushed to the study. 

The first thing she saw was Eloise. Unharmed and changed out of her maid’s uniform. 

Penelope grasped her shoulders and pulled her into a hug. 

“It is good to see you too, Pen.” Eloise said in a strained voice.

Penelope pulled back to see Anthony peering at them confused. 

Colin walked in behind her, closing the door. His face betrayed no emotion. “What is this about, brother?” He asked Anthony coolly.

“I have no idea, Eloise called us here.” 

“Yes, I heard news…from a maid.” She side-glanced at Penelope. “The printer Penelope uses, Mr. Harris, has gone missing. No one has seen or spoken to him since Friday.”

“This is bad.” Anthony uttered.

“Not bad, necessarily, there may be an explanation yet.” Colin stated calmly. 

“Or he is in hiding and they are close.” Anthony retorted.

“Who is close? The Queen?” Eloise asked and Penelope nodded at her. 

“I-the maid did not mention anyone from the palace being there.” 

“Even so.” Anthony said, looking only at Colin. “Do you have a plan?” 

“I do.” He replied. 

Anthony gestured for him to go on. 

“Spain first and from there the America’s.”

Penelope felt the ground drop out from underneath herself, she turned to Colin but he refused to look back at her. She could hear no more. “You cannot speak in earnest.” She told him. “We cannot leave here.” 

“You can.” Anthony insisted. “Or run the risk that you will lose your life.”

Penelope could only look at Colin. “But your family.” She told him, tears building in her eyes. 

He took her hand and squeezed it. “You are my family now.”

The door burst open before she could say any more. Mrs Wilson stood framed before them. 

“Oh, you are all in here…together.” She stated, giving the four of them a perplexed look. “I have come to tell his Lordship that his Lady wife is in labor.”

“What?” Anthony said weakly. 

“It seems she has been experiencing the pains but did not want to distract from the day so convinced herself they were nothing. A doctor has been sent for but there is a chance he will not be needed. I was sent t-“

Anthony came to his senses and strode past the housekeeper. 

With the study door now open the faint sounds of the viscountess screaming could be heard through the halls. Anthony hit the staircase at a run.

Colin turned to his wife only to find her focused now entirely on Eloise.

“We can leave, I am sure my mother has not taken apart my old bedroom yet.”

“I think I shall be able to stay.” Eloise replied in a small voice.

“If you are sure.” Penelope murmured, stroking her hand. 

She turned to Colin. “I believe I shall wait with Eloise in her bedchambers.” She said in a tone that told him she would not forget to speak to him after all of this was done. 

He did not regret keeping his plan to flee with her a secret until now. He knew her self-sacrificial nature and that at any sign of danger she would try to solve everything herself. Most likely fleeing on her own. 

At least if he planned ahead, ensured they had funds, safe passage and a refuge waiting for them, they could leave with a sense of security and more importantly, they could leave with each other. 

“Go, sit with Eloise. I shall make myself scarce.” He told her. 

Together, both of them disappeared upstairs. 

Kate’s screams grew louder and longer as the night progressed later and later. 

“I never believed I would hear the Viscountess scream.” Penelope whispered as they found they could no longer distract themselves. “If it can bring down even her, it must be painful.”

“Daph says it is all worth it and you do not even remember.” Eloise said shakily.

“Daphne would lie though, would she not?” Pen shot back. 

Eloise, caught off guard, laughed. “Ah, she would!”

“Then again, she is already expecting another.”

“She does love them. Almost as much as she loves the Duke, and I must say, now that he is older, Auggie is a remarkable little fellow.”

They both winced as another ear splitting scream rocked the house.

“That is a glowing commendation from you, indeed, I have never met a child you could spare a glance for.”

“Yes, well Auggie is not my sibling, so he had that going for him.”

“I do see how that could make a difference. What of Belinda though?”

Eloise wrinkled her nose. “It is still hard for me, when they are small.”

“It still makes you think of Hyacinth?” 

Eloise nodded. 

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Eloise glanced curiously. “It cannot be anything more grand than you are Lady Whistledown or you are in love with my brother.”

“It could be.” Penelope said quietly.

“Surely not.”

“It has been more than a month.”Penelope said, her face still and serious. 

“Oh then you must feel more terror right now than even I do.”

Penelope nodded.

Twice Colin wandered by Eloise’s rooms to check on them.

The first time, Penelope was making a sweet but strangled attempt at singing as she pet Eloise’s head. The second, and quite some time later, they had both fallen asleep. He covered them with a blanket and returned to his own quarters for a brief nap. 

Before the sun had risen, they were all called one by one to the drawing room.

Bleary eyed Bridgerton’s, including Benedict, who must have made his return as Colin slept, sat in their Various places. Colin found his wife among them and sat with her. 

“I heard it is a boy.” She said, her voice still hushed with sleep.

 “I am no longer second in line.” Benedict crowed.

“Does that make me fourth?” Colin smiled.

“And I fifth?” Gregory added.

“How does it feel to have that pressure taken off you?” Benedict joked to his youngest brother.

“I feel quite the same as yesterday.” Gregory remarked. 

Violet entered then. “Kate is doing remarkably well. Everything was without incident.”

The room sighed in relief.

“Soon she will rest and Anthony shall bring him in to show you all. He is just the most beautiful baby.” 

They descended into excited chatter until the doors opened again and there Anthony stood.

He looked somehow taller, proud, holding a bundle so small it could not possibly hold the next Viscount Bridgerton. 

“Meet my son, Edmund Edhas Bridgerton.” He lifted the bundle to reveal a sleeping, angelic face.

He walked directly to Colin and Penelope. “This is your uncle Colin and your aunt Penelope.” Anthony whispered. “Good people to have on your side.”

Colin lifted his arms as the baby was passed to him. Feeling his face break into a delighted smile at the sight of his nephew.

He had never held Auggie or Belinda when they were so small. Being on tour for both their births.

Edmund had the same tilt to his eyes as his mother, thickly lashed, his tiny nose somehow looked like hers as well. His mouth was serious and his ears were Anthony’s after all and they looked utterly distinguished on the tiny boy.

“Welcome to the family baby Edmund.” Colin whispered, feeling his heart swell and tears trail themselves down his cheeks. “He is remarkable.” He told Anthony.

Turning to Penelope she took the baby into her arms as he passed him to her. She seemed to get lost staring at her nephew. The baby made a snuffling sound, wriggling and cracking open two deep eyes. Penelope’s face broke into the most beautiful smile Colin had ever seen on her. 

She looked up at Anthony, “he is so beautiful.” She said, passing the boy back to his father. “He is so lucky to be born into such a family.”

Anthony rocked his son gently, encouraging him to close his eyes again. “He shall make an excellent Viscount.”

“In the far far far future.” Benedict said, standing impatiently and reaching out for his turn.

Penelope felt her heart slowly breaking as she watched Anthony walk the baby around.

The future Viscount and leader of the family.The future. 

For now he was at the mercy of all those in the room with him. Each of them responsible not only for protecting him but for not bringing the wolves to his doorstep.

Then there was Colin beside her. The one she loved more than life itself. Edmund deserved to know his uncle and Colin deserved to be with his family as they grew and changed.

Penelope owed them all. She owed them the protection of their future. Even if it meant the abolishment of hers.

She knew what she must do.

Chapter Text

As the curtain closed on the most fortuitous night and began to part on the cold beginning of day Penelope rose from her false slumber.

As silent as a runaway she ghosted her lips to her husband’s outstretched hand. Willing herself to leave him. Not expecting she would ever see him again. 

Larks sung their songs as she reached her hired hack. Silently, she handed the driver his due.

“Where to, Miss?” He asked.

“Ma’am.” She corrected him. “The palace.”

The man gave her a curious look but taking her money, set his horses thundering down the cold street.

At the sound of the morning birds singing their songs and the bright stream of that day’s sun Colin Bridgerton stirred.

Reaching out, he felt only an empty mattress. He felt again. Finding nothing he opened his eyes. She was gone. 

He waited, sure she was just gone for a moment.

He stretched and got up.

He washed his face, ears and neck.

He dressed partly and then fully.

He went down for breakfast.

Seeing Eloise, he made his way to her. “Did Penelope return to your bedchamber last night?”

“Of course not, she left the drawing room with you.”

“She was not there when I awoke this morning.”

No one else had yet arisen. Most left exhausted from the arrival of baby Edmund and the wedding before that.

“She cannot have gone far, do you suppose she needed something from her mother’s house?”

“Why would she not tell me?”

“Perhaps she believed she would return before you awoke.”

Colin shook his head. “Her mother and Prudence are still with Philippa. There is no one there that would have kept her away for so long.”

“Did she leave a note?”

Beginning to feel a terrible churning in his stomach Colin immediately turned on his foot.

He wanted to wonder if there was any way Fife could have gotten to her. But there was not a chance, he himself was always beside her. If she was truly gone, it would have been her decision alone.

It could not have been anyone from the palace either. They would not have snuck in, rather, they would have announced themselves loudly. 

He turned back at the sound of footsteps.

“What are you doing?” He asked Eloise who had followed him up half the stairs.

“I want to see if there is a note. If Penelope is missing I should know.”

Colin continued, not wanting to waste time arguing. 

Striding into his bedchamber he searched fervently. He found nothing and although she helped, even searching under the bed, neither did Eloise. 

Colin wanted to leave but he found he could not. He looked at the corner of his rug. It was perfectly in place. There was nothing that should have caught his attention about it but he could not leave without checking.

Reluctantly, he knelt and pulled the rug corner back. He looked with burdened eyes upon his hiding place. He did not want to touch it. Regretfully, he pulled the loose board back.

He was vaguely aware of Eloise approaching him.

Atop all his treasures and secrets. His unsent letters and journals, sat one perfectly folded sheet of parchment.

Colin lifted it. Slowly, he flipped the folds back. He had begun to shake. 

He only needed to read the first words. I am sorry .

Thrusting the sheet at Eloise he shot out of the house.

“So you are Lady Whistledown then?” Queen Charlotte stated as a tea service was placed around them.

“What are you? A girl of twenty?”

“I will be. Next April.”

The Queen's mouth formed a straight line. “So you are telling me you began at…”

“Just before I was ten and seven  ma’am.”

“I see. How?”

“My father.” Penelope admitted for the first time ever, to anyone as she took the ornate cup and saucer reserved for her. “He saw some of my writing, a collection of gossip I had heard at the modiste and from the mouth of my mother. Thorny observations. He thought it quite funny. It gave me the idea to seek out a printer.”

“What happened then?” 

“I learnt how to hire a carriage. The printer took a little convincing to publish what I brought him. He had boys deliver it and it was his idea to give it away free for two weeks to addict the ton.”

“Yes, I remember quite well the day I was told there was to be a fee.”

“He was quite savvy.”

“Was?”

“I had to find a new printer when your Bow Street Runners almost captured me outside his shop.”

“Oh. A shame.” 

“I suppose I could have stopped then. But soon after, my father died. And well, I suppose he never really paid me any attention other than that one time. Sometimes, I thought he forgot he had a third daughter. And it helped me remember him and how he liked what I wrote. I also had nothing else, certainly no marriage prospects.”

Penelope had held little faith she would even get an audience with the Queen when she arrived at the palace gate and announced she was Lady Whistledown.

Nonetheless, one of the guards had listened to her without question and shortly after she had found herself being marched inside.

Only, instead of a dark unforgiving dungeon Penelope found herself in a the cavernous throne room, sat on a thick Provençal cushion and served tea.

“That seems to have changed for you.” The Queen said, her lips curving as she looked at Penelope’s ring.

“Yes, well, I had no idea of that then.” 

“You must have quite a lot of money.”

Penelope shifted. “I had begun to gather a sizable amount. However, some I used to fund my last season, some I funneled to my family under the guise of an inheritance and the rest was taken under threat of blackmail.”

That peaked the monarch’s interest. “Blackmail?”

Penelope nodded. “An error on my part. A detail in one of my more prominent pieces placed me at a location where very few people were. Another person who was there had me cornered and demanded money among other things. That is why I wrote a follow up piece which destroyed my own reputation so thoroughly no one would have possibly believed him if he had outed me.”

“Very clever. Tell me, who was this blackmailer?”

“Lord Fife.”

The monarch put down her tea and lent forward. “Now I am intrigued. I must say I began to question his integrity after no marriage proposal followed the time he spent with that harpist last season.”

“Indeed.” None of this conversation was going the way Penelope had expected.

“Tell me.” The monarch picked her tea back up. “Did you ever plan to give it all up?”

“The thought had crossed my mind.” Penelope admitted. “But in the end, I was beginning to think I would not be able to. Not yet at least. There is something about being able to cut to the essence of a person with simplicity and wit. To make people laugh. To make them wince. To make people who never truly want to use their minds, think. Well, it is a small achievement perhaps, but it is the greatest I have made.”

The Queen looked amused. “I would not say the achievement is small . You write about society and to write about society in a way that is beyond dull is an achievement indeed.”

Penelope could not say anything. She was proud of her work. She secretly smiled whenever she heard someone reciting from one of her columns or laughing at her quips. To think that now she was sharing in her triumphs with the Queen of England. Before she would no doubt be jailed.

“Do you wish me to give it up, your majesty?” She asked delicately.

The Queen pursed her lips. “I should.” She mused. “Your success has not been without expense to the crown.”

Penelope gulped and set down her tea.

“But I do not believe I shall.” She added loftily. Penelope’s heart thundered. “Under some conditions.”

“Mister Bridgerton is here to see you, your majesty.”

Penelope only realised she had dropped her tea cup as it shattered at her feet.

“See him in. This should be interesting.”

Colin had almost considered sprinting to the palace on foot but knew that a carriage would still be faster.

By the time it came around Eloise tried to join him.

“No, Eloise, return inside at once.”

“I will not. She may need me.”

“She is my wife.”

“She is my closest friend.”

“She is my closest friend.”

“We have been friends longer.”

“You have not.”

“If you do not let me come along with you I shall hire my own transport.”

“For the love of God, Eloise. She may be imprisoned! Just going there may implicate us enough to join her at the gallows.”

“I do not care.” Eloise said, squaring her jaw.

Colin looked at her and softened. “At least put on gloves. Our only hope is to appeal to the Queen. We must look presentable.”

“You will wait?”

“I swear on my life.”

As soon as she was back inside, Colin leapt into the carriage.

“Go.” He demanded.

“What is it you want with him?” Penelope asked, as servants swept the pieces of broken china from the floor. “Surely you know he has nothing to do with my business. He is innocent.”

“We shall see about that.” The Queen smiled. “What is the boy’s name?”she asked her nearby Queen’s Man.

“Colin Bridgerton, ma’am.”

“And he is your husband?”

Penelope nodded.

“Good. There are so many Bridgertons, it is difficult to remember which one is which.”

Penelope wanted to sink into the floor as Colin was escorted in, eyes ablaze and murderous. 

She could not scream to him that she was about to be let go. She could not do anything.

“Mister Bridgerton. How generous of you to join us. I was just enjoying tea with your very interesting wife.”

Penelope watched him look with calculation over the situation before he bowed.

“Thank you for allowing me an audience, your majesty. For you see, I was unaware that my wife had planned to come here.”

The Queen looked amused. “Yes, she was just telling me what an independent life she leads. Though I must say, I am surprised you would come all this way and risk your neck if the two of you were not close. Tell me, was it a love match?”

“It was.” Colin admitted. 

“Quite the twist. Though, I was already told that the story of your seduction was entirely false. Tell me, what really happened.”

Penelope tried to speak but the Queen raised her hand to stop her. 

“We have been friends our whole lives-“

“-how long?”

“Pardon?”

“How long were you friends for?”

“I believe I had just turned twelve and she was nine or thereabouts.”

The Queen gasped. “So young. Too young to recall the details of how you met?”

“No.” He shook his head. “She was in yellow. I saw her break away from her family. I had climbed a tree to watch those walking by. When she stopped below I called out to her.”

“Why?”

“Well. Not many children were ever brave enough to leave their parents’ sides. She intrigued me.”

“And after?”

“She befriended my sister, so she was a constant in my home, as much a part of my family as any of my brothers and sisters. One of the first people I looked for whenever I returned.”

“So then you fell in love?” The Queen slumped, voice becoming bored. 

“No.” Colin shook his head. “We met too young for that. I loved Penelope, I always did but not as I do now. I could not see her as anything else, having known her so long and seeing her as a most important figure of my childhood.”

“What changed then?”

“I had not known it but Penelope had fallen in love with me. The day we met in fact. I had only ever known her adoration, her complete faith in me. I had taken it for granted. But when, through my own mistakes, that adoration was ended, I felt its absence most completely.”

“What did he do?” The Queen asked but Penelope kept her jaw tightly shut. The Queen kept her sharp eyes on her. “What could he have possibly done to make you give up on a decade of affection?”

Colin was her husband now. No part of her wanted to relive the pain she had gone through. That was the past.

“You know, if you do not want to tell me, I could always take back my previous offer…”

Penelope gave Colin a regretful look, sighing as she prepared herself to bare all her pain. “It all began after he returned home from Eton. He seemed determined to prove himself a man to his older brothers. I was about to turn ten and six. To be sure, I had held a flame for him for years and it  was my dream that year that my mother would finally present me to society, only, my father put his foot down, insisting that she wait another year for all three of us daughters. Nonetheless, I found myself waiting for him to notice me, to tell me some story as he used to do about his professors or classmates but he had no time for me or his sisters, wanting only to trail after his brothers. Well, another year soon passed and I was to finally be presented as my mother held my father to his word. For all his talk of travel, Colin remained home and a small part of me hoped that should he be in London on the day I was to be declared a woman of marriageable age then he might begin to see me as such.”

“Did he?”

“It was not to be. For you see, my distant cousin came to stay with us.”

The Queen gasped. “That is right, Miss Thompson, it is all coming back to me now. And it was you she was engaged to.” She pointed at Colin. “And you wrote the piece that exposed her, how did you know of her plan, did she share it with you?”

Penelope continued. “Our whole household knew she was with child. They already laughed at Colin like he was a fool and as much as I begged Marina to tell him the truth or choose anyone else, she would not. I tried to tell him without betraying the secret I was sworn to. I realised when he did not believe me that no one ever would. That even if I stood in the centre of the square and screamed that Marina was with child and planned to seduce him into a loveless marriage that everyone might simply think that Colin was the father after all and had taken liberties too soon. Then I heard they planned to elope that night. I acted quickly. I used the only power I had to reveal the truth in a way that would not ruin his life, only his happiness.”

“And then he must have fallen in love with you?”

“No.” Penelope said. 

“No?” 

“First, my father died and Colin left soon after on his travels. He wrote to see how I was fairing and I responded in kind. It seemed with every page I sent to him he would return two…”

“And so he fell in love through this correspondence?”

“No. He returned only wanting to still see her.”

“Who?”

“Marina, now Lady Crane.”

The Queen made a noise of disgust. “Still?”

“I believe he had grown lost on his travels and was owed resolution, though our correspondence had given me a new hope and despite knowing he had gone to see her, I tried to maintain our conversation, to see if he felt anything for me as a woman.”

“And did he?”

“Well, he told me when he first returned that he had decided to forswear women altogether and that I did not count in that declaration. Though after he returned from seeing Marina, I began to think he did not mean to discount me as a woman only as someone he would forswear. He began to seek me out, compliment me, he asked for my opinion on personal matters. He even began to spend time at my family home-“

“Because he loved you!”

“No, because he was the only one to see through Jack Featherington’s plan to trick members of the ton from their fortunes. He was pretending to want to invest in the fictitious mines my cousin promised would bring great prosperity. I did not know that was his only intention at the time. I only knew that he was looking at me longer, finding reasons to touch my arm or hand, he seemed to respect my family when we had no reason to be respected. Then came the night of the ball.”

“Which ball?”

“The Featherington ball. Where you yourself attended.”

“I do not recall it. Carry on.”

“He pulled me aside so we could be alone in a drawing room.”

The Queen gasped and Penelope shook her head again. “It was only to reveal he had uncovered the truth about the ruby mines. He confronted my mother and my cousin and gave them the chance to come clean. Then he took me to dance.”

“Why?” The Queen asked, looking over at Colin. He opened his mouth to answer her but she waved at him to stop.

“It matters not. What was the dance like?”

“Magical.” Penelope said truthfully. “He is the most splendid dancer in the ton. But it was his words that made it so. He told me I was special to him and that he would always look after me.

“So he finally loved you.”

“I thought he did. Or that he could. I did not see another reason for such words and everything else throughout the season. But then I overheard him say something that put that out of my mind completely. Another member of the ton asked if he was courting me for the way we had danced caught his attention-“

“-which member? Who asked you this?” She looked back to Colin.

When she did not stop him he responded, "Lord Fife.”

The Queen clapped her hands to her face. “Another twist!” She exclaimed. “And you said you would?”

“He emphatically denied he would.” Penelope explained. “He asked Fife if he was mad and laughing, said that he would not, even in his wildest fantasies.”

“Oh my.” The Queen blinked. “Oh my. Oh my. And she forgave you?”

Colin spoke with dignity, “I did not know at first that I needed to be forgiven but knowing I had lost her favour I did all that was in my power to win it back. Fortunately, she found the grace to forgive me once I had proven myself. She had been right, I had begun to fall in love with her as early as that dance at her family’s ball, though I was still asleep to that fact then.”

Penelope tried to speak up again to say that he had not needed her forgiveness and it was only that she needed to know that he loved her. But the Queen stopped her.

“So you are in love now. That is why you came all the way here. To tell me you think I should let her go.”

“I do.”

“And you think I should only because you love her?”

“Is that not reason enough?”

“Not every love lasts.”

“Mine does.”

“It does? You had years to love her and yet you did not. Can you truly love her that much? Tell me, Mister Bridgerton, how much do you love your wife?”

Colin looked at Penelope.

She knew she could not interrupt without displeasing the Queen. Still, silently, she tried to tell him he did not need to prove himself. He had not loved her long and he did not need to love her more than she loved him. She did not think he could. 

“I love her with my past and for my future.” Colin started, his eyes staying on Penelope. “I love her for the children we will have and the years we will have together. I love her for every one of my smiles and even more for every one of hers.” 

The Queen brought one jeweled hand to her heart. 

“I love her mistakes and her successes. I love her for every secret she keeps and every truth she tells. I would love her even if she could no longer love me, if she no longer wanted to look at me, I would still spend every day thinking of her. I love her more than I need air in my lungs or earth beneath my feel because she is my entire past and all I want my future to ever be. With her, I am home.”

“Colin.” Penelope said. Shocked at the rawness of his words.

The Queen sniffled. “Very well. You may take her with you and leave.”

Both of them looked at their monarch who was dabbing at her eyes.

There was a pause.

“Go!”

Colin gave no hesitation as he grabbed Penelope and pulled her away with him. 

She half ran to keep up with him as they made to flee the palace grounds.

Do not look back.” He said as they moved away from the throne room and toward their waiting carriage. “Not for anything.” 

The Queen was not done with Penelope and Colin. 

The next day a palace footman came to the Bridgerton home asking for them.

Once he had them alone ten thousand pounds was presented to them. 

“Your reward.” He said, standing alert. “For finding the Queen's prized emerald.”

Penelope unfurled the note attached to the rather full bag.

A small price to pay.

I do hope I need not spell out what I expect from you here on out. Say nothing more against the crown and I shall leave you be. 

There is the matter of your family. Once you drew my attention to the fact that your cousin left many among the ton penniless, I had my men seek him out. The criminal in question was found outside of Georgia with little to his name and certainly no evidence of having brought any coin with him on his passage there. 

I do hope this reward will help you make matters right again lest I need to step in. 

QC.

“If cousin Jack has no money with him, where did all the wealth go?”

“I believe your mother would do better answering that than me.”

They found Portia Featherington in her family home, having returned early from tea with the Finches sporting another fit of headaches. 

Mrs. Varley was applying a cold compress to her head. “Can this matter wait? This is not a good time for her Ladyship.”

“I am afraid it cannot.” Colin insisted.

“We have received word from the Queen.” Penelope added. “They found cousin Jack in the Americas and he has no money with him.”

“Well then he has spent it all.” 

“No. Mother. He has not. He had little more than his passage required.”

“He is lying.” Portia laughed.

Neither Penelope or Colin joined her.

“We know of the debt your late husband brought into your home.” Colin said, his voice calm and somewhat soft. “It must not have been easy with three daughters unwed.”

Portia’s eyes darted between them, panic setting in.

“I really must ask you to stop this questioning. The lady is not well-“

“-no. Varley. They know.” Portia looked at Penelope. “Prudence cannot know. Allow her first to marry, after that, I will return what I can.”

“Do you even have enough?”

Portia paused, her eyes betraying her panic, “The estate has a little over four thousand left. But there is still the wedding and staff to pay.”

“And what amount did you take?” Penelope asked, dreading the answer. “What do you owe the people?”

“Eight thousand two hundred and forty six pounds.” Portia recited with immediacy. 

There was silence.

“Then all can be restored.” Colin said.

Portia shook her head. “No. You must keep what inheritance you have to support Penelope.”

“But ma’am.” Varley protested.

“It is not from my inheritance.” Colin corrected, bringing out the bag of the Queen’s reward. 

“How-“

“Do not ask questions I cannot answer. Just know that it is enough. The crown now knows your secret. See every family is paid back in haste or your daughters will be made to suffer.”

Dearest gentle reader,

It is said that the measure of a man is determined by what he does with the power given to him. Well, dear reader, I posit to you that when a woman is given power she is measured twice over.

Whilst many of you have been left with unclean hands in your scurry to unmask me, I have been found without blemish. As you all have been made well aware, I shall continue to write with her majesty’s blessing and protection. So I must ask, will you remain civil or will you pay the price to the crown?

If you are able to behave then might I suggest you find your way to the final marriage of the season. A rather gaudy but exciting affair between one Prudence Featherington and her husband to be, Lord Dankworth. It is said that all are invited….

Not a sorry face was in sight in the overwhelming crush of brightly coloured bodies, joined together for the occasion.

Even the youngest of the Featherington daughters dressed brightly, in a floral pink.

Every surface burst with exotic fruits and a sunset spectrum of flowers that made the air thick with sweet smelling pollen.

Only the best foods were served up upon gilded trays. 

In honor of the event, ton members tightly curled their hair, piled it up and dressed in a manner that fit the decor. 

Penelope and her husband stood with her beaming sister. Finally the one dressed in white.

Lord Dankworth’s grandmother had arrived beautifully dressed in a silken green tunic over a sarong.

Her granddaughter, the Lord’s younger sister who would now be Prudence’s responsibility to present to society, was dressed in a more English fashion, sporting bright, citrus yellow.

The dowager and her granddaughter approached Penelope.

“We are yet to speak to you.” The grandmother said after introductions were made. “You are the youngest sister, are you not?”

“I am.” Penelope admitted. 

“Tell me, what do you think of the honeymoon location? I told Harry to bring his wife to Malaysia where my family resides. He insisted he has been to Malaysia before but never to Cornwall.”

“It is a unique choice.” Penelope said carefully. “And given its proximity and size, I am sure the six months they had planned to spend there will quickly appear long enough for them to add additional locations.”

The small woman sniffed. “Quite.” She looked at her yellow clad granddaughter. “See Felicity, I told you one of them had to have sense.”

“Indeed.” Colin agreed. “My wife has an abundance of sense.” 

He caught Penelope’s eye and flashed her a smile that feigned innocence.

“I trust you will be nearby when the season begins anew? Felicity has her hesitations about being presented in London and something tells me my grandson and his new wife may need support from a sensible family member such as yourself.”

“We will be returning for the season’s beginning.” Penelope confirmed. She looked at Felicity who was struggling to smile. “I find having control over one’s personal wardrobe and style is the first step to gaining the confidence needed when one is out in society.”

The girl seemed to brighten slightly.

“Penelope! Gather, please!” Portia called. “I am to make my speech.”

“Allow me to introduce you to my mother.” Colin insisted, holding his arm out to the Dankworth dowager. 

Penelope joined her mother along with Prudence who was twirling the skirts of her wedding dress happily and Philippa who was bouncing Pandora on her hip.

Portia took a breath and smiled at them all. “My girls.” she breathed. “I - oh. I feel faint.”

“Mama?” Prudence asked, worried.

“Is something the matter?” Philippa asked.

“Should I get someone?” Penelope offered.

“No. No. It is nothing.”

Portia seemed to try and step forward toward the dais where she would have given her speech. Instead she swooned and collapsed on the floor.

Colin stopped mid sentence to the dowager and his mother and cold shot through his body at the sound of Penelope’s shriek for help.

He ran through the crowds toward where she had been headed. 

There, in her blood orange dress, Portia Featherington had crumpled to the floor.

Mrs. Varley was right behind him and as they reached the scene she tried to help the Lady up. 

“Come on ma’am, you have almost made it. We made it. Once Prudence is married you can rest just like you said you would.”

In a daze, Colin found himself taking the housekeeper’s arms away. “Allow me.” He told her softly.

Stooping low, he scooped his mother-in-law into his arms and stood up. She once seemed one of the more fearsome women of the ton. Now limp, she just seemed frail and helpless.

In the distance he could vaguely hear his mother’s voice moving everyone along. Ensuring them that it was just a bout of lightheadedness.

It was only when he entered the house that he realized Penelope and her sisters had followed him as well as Mrs. Varley. Each face as frozen as the last.

“Through there.” Prudence sniffed, pointing in a direction Colin did not expect. “She has not slept in the master wing since Papa died.”

He followed the path and felt Penelope grip his arm above the hook of his elbow. 

Inside, the room was simple, yellow and green. A white table held a spray of lillies in yellow, orange and pink.

Mrs Varley pulled back an eyelet and frilled eiderdown and Colin placed Portia Featherington down upon the clean, pressed mattress.

As soon as her head hit the pillow she coughed and doubled over onto her side. 

“Mama?” Penelope asked in a small voice.

Philippa let out a sob.

“I will send for boiled water and rags ma’am, hang on.” Mrs Varley exclaimed.

Portia held up her hand to stop them all as she finished coughing. 

Her hand looked thin and small under a stack of heavy rings. She beckoned her daughters forward with it.

She beckoned harder as Philippa stood still. Once all three were beside her she tried to talk.

“I have not been well for some time.” She told them. Her voice mimicking strength but heavy with strain. “I am afraid I do not have long.”

No one could respond.

Shakily Portia picked up their hands, holding them in her own, one, two, three stacked neatly on top of each other. 

“I wanted all three of you to know…I have decided…I no longer want a grandson at all…I quite frankly do not have a single care left for the Featherington estate, your father’s barony or this house for that matter. I only ever wanted to know that you all would have a chance at a better life than I had.”

Tears cut rivers down her now sallow face. Stopping at white lips. 

“I cannot pretend that did not make me a terrible mother at times. I know I was, but I do not want you to hold onto that anger forever. Do not hate your mother for what her mother did to her. That is something I wish I had learned long ago. I need you girls to know that you were my greatest passion, my brightest joy. I cannot say my life was ever dull or not worth living as you three were all in it.”

Portia sniffed and violent coughing took hold once more.

“I only want…I only want you to h-have daughters.” She rasped, struggling to breathe. “So you all may know the happiness you brought to me.”

After that, the coughing rendered her speechless.

That night was the longest of Penelope’s life.

She watched her mother turn colours she did not know human skin could appear. 

She watched her struggle to breathe and forget where she was.

Prudence did not change out of her wedding gown.

They all took turns through the night, curling on the little bed beside their mother. Trying to offer her her favourite tea or even a biscuit.

Sometimes all three squeezed in together, holding each other and crying.

At one point, in the early blue hours of the morning, Penelope was quite alone, watching Portia sleep as their mother sat up.

She looked around with her usual loftiness and smiled at Penelope.

“I never imagined you a married woman, you know.” She said, not unkindly. “You were always so clever, and like a little butterfly beating its wings against a cage. I thought you would find marriage too stifling. You would not be allowed to be yourself.”

Penelope wiped her eyes. She could barely believe what she was seeing. 

“Does he know?”

“Excuse me?” Penelope asked, genuinely confused.

“Does he know that you are Lady Whistledown?” Portia smiled.

“Mama?”

“Oh I have known it was you for some time. Or I had my suspicions. I thought, what is the harm? Really, I think it was pride I felt, that my girl had the whole ton hoodwinked and that let me allow you to keep going.” Portia reached out and took Penelope’s hand. “Thank you. For looking after us, in the end. I know it could not have been easy. We did not always make it easy.”

“I love you. Of course I wanted to-“

Portia tsked her quiet. “Love is not always enough. You have to choose. You chose us. Thank you.”

Penelope squeezed her hand, unable to speak.

“Do you think I could ask one more favour of you?”

Penelope nodded.

“Check in on them from time to time. Your sisters. They are not like you and me.”

“I will. I promise.”

Penelope shifted quickly as Portia suddenly laid down. 

She sunk against her pillow with a sigh.

As she relaxed, a change washed over her body, leaving her looking still and in the depths of a deepest sleep.

Finally, Penelope allowed herself to close her eyes and weep.

The day was dull and warm.

Everything moved slowly but in flashes. 

The doctor arrived and then the body was collected. 

Prudence and her new husband left and returned in new clothes. 

Violet came and took Penelope across the square with her. 

Philippa and Albion Finch returned and sat together in the drawing room.

Anthony and Benedict came and took Colin to Mondrich’s.

“I heard it was a sad day at your wife’s house.” Will said as he poured each man a drink.

“Pour yourself one and sit with us.” Benedict insisted. 

“It was a long night, indeed.” Colin admitted. “ I know not what to do about the house.”

“We will look into the legalities after the funeral.” Anthony said. “Though try to come to some verbal agreement with the oldest sister before she leaves. She will most likely have a claim to it before a son is born.”

“As long as that Jack Featherington does not return.” Benedict said.

Colin and Will exchanged a glance.

“Are their sons in the future?” Will asked, “any happy news to brighten the day, Colin?”

“Penelope has not seemed different.” He said, though no day they had lived one they were married was like any other. 

“Just think, brother.” Benedict directed at Anthony. “If Colin did have a boy, he could arrive before the little Viscount is even a year old!”

“By the time Edmund is turning a year, Kate and I will already have had time to have another, leaving me still with two to his one.”

“It is no competition.” Colin pointed out.

“Indeed, it is not and I find myself more than content with my three.” Will smiled. “Does no one in your family know there are ways to prevent an overabundance of children?”

“They are aware.” Benedict laughed. “We are all just so used to a large family and would not have it any other way.”

Colin held his face still. He was not, in fact, aware of what Will spoke of and he silently planned to find out. Just not today.

Will caught his expression, mistaking it for something else. “I remember when Alice’s mother passed on. It was something we did not expect at the time. It is strange seeing the one you care about so deeply go through a pain you yourself can not quite share in. To find it all so overwhelming but to know she needs you as her strength.”

Colin and Anthony nodded in agreement.

“That is love.” Anthony added matter of factly. “ and you know she would do the same for you even if you tried to stop her.”

“ but she will never be stopped.” Colin added with a smile.

“Oh no.” Will agreed, lifting his glass. “And I for one would not want it any other way.”

Benedict waved his hand at them. “Enough with you three and your love.” He grumbled.

“There is still time for you yet, Benedict.” Colin assured him. 

“I fear it is not for me. I find the whole ordeal too confusing.”

“What confuses you?” Anthony asked.

Benedict shrugged and sipped his drink. “Well let us say one person says love is meant to strike a man suddenly, rendering him unable to think straight and another says that love is supposed to grow from an unexpected place, slowly taking a man over until his senses and mind are devoted to her. Which is it supposed to be.”

“Both.” The three other men echoed in unison.

“And suppose a man experiences both but with two different women, who is he supposed to choose then?”

Colin shrugged whilst Anthony pat him on the back. “When it comes to love, all becomes clear in the end, whether you want it to or not.”

All four raised their glasses to toast to that.

Penelope was restless.

Colin’s bed in his family home felt cold. She had washed and dressed for the day and then washed and dressed for night without going anywhere.

Violet had stroked her hair and Eloise had spoken to her but Penelope had not said anything. She could not hear her own voice. Her mother was gone. When it was already dark, the door opened and Colin entered. 

“Have you been drinking?” She was not sure why she said it. She was suddenly gripped with fear that he was drunk.

“Only a little.” He did not sound drunk. “Earlier in the day. I was with Anthony, Benedict and Will. We spent the afternoon talking.”

She nodded. Feeling herself relax. This was Colin. 

He was undressing himself. He never called for a valet she noticed. “How were things here? Did my mother and Eloise stay with you?”

“All day.” Penelope answered. She was watching him curiously. Her eyes were fixated on the figure of him, lit behind by the final embers.

“That is good.”

An intense rush hit her and suddenly it was clear. She wanted him. Her own mother had just died and she felt she would burst out of her own skin if she could not have him. If he did not touch her. What was wrong with her?

“What is it you are thinking?” He asked, noticing her staring, her chin propped on her hands that she had rested on her knees. She straightened.

Could she tell him? “I think I need you.” She said.

He sat on the bed. “I am right here. I promise you, this afternoon was all I needed to be able to think straight. I shall remain by your side until you tell me to go.”

She shook her head. He misunderstood her. 

“No, I need you, Colin.” She said, drawing her knees in closer, feeling vulnerable. 

He moved closer, reaching up to cup her face, his lips met hers like a soft whisper. 

His kiss soothed her, heat instantly filling her body.

She reached for him too, pulling herself closer, allowing her teeth to catch his bottom lip.

His tongue touched hers and she moaned. Moving closer still, climbing onto him, wrapping her legs around him as she sat facing him. Finding him already hard. 

His hand that was on her face slid to her neck, thumb on her throat as he pulled her in to kiss her deeper. 

She felt a tug as his fingers thread themselves into her hair, pulling slightly. Her head fell back with them, a cry escaping her lips.

Colin took the opportunity, his teeth and lips scraping her neck, he began to squeeze her breast, his other hand working fast to undress her.

Collecting herself, she drew back to him, tearing at his clothing, knocking his hands away from her. 

She ran her hands over his stomach and chest, up over his neck, jaw, lips, running through his hair and kissing him again.

Colin tipped back, pulling her with him, on top of him, he moaned, running his hands over her body, pushing her night dress away from her shoulders. 

“I love you.” He sighed, mouth going to her body, kissing anywhere he could reach as he sat back up. 

Penelope pushed her fingers into his hair again, tightening her hold as he found her breasts, drawing her nipple between his teeth. To the other breast he made circles with his thumb until it peaked into a hard point.

As soon as she cried out and arched back he was gone, pulling back to pull her dress the rest of the way off. Shedding himself of the last of his clothes.

He stared down breathlessly at her bare body.

Penelope found she did not care. She did not shift or worry. He loved her. And in some strange way it made her love herself. She simply reached up to him, impatient to feel his skin hot against hers.

As he came back to her, he braced himself upon his elbow, his other hand found its way between her legs. “Let me look after you.” He murmured as his fingers ran up the length of her slit.

Penelope shuddered. Grabbing him by the shoulders, keeping him there. Taking his mouth. “Do not stop.” She gasped against his lips as he pushed his fingers in a perfect circle. She could not help but lift her hips, moving with him, against him . 

His hand moved and two of his fingers slipped inside her, easily. She gasped at the feeling of intrusion. His fingers found their pace, moving in and out as he kissed her again, hard and slow, his tongue deep in her mouth, tasting her. Penelope broke from the kiss, gasping for air, crying out from the pleasure of it all.

She wanted more of him. She wanted him deep inside her, his muscles moving over her skin, his hips hard against her own. His fingers were not enough. 

Sensing her urgency he moved his hand and finally she felt him at her entrance. She kissed behind his ear, sucking slightly as he thrust himself inside. 

He groaned, burying his face into her neck. Penelope grabbed onto his hips, drawing him closer. Spreading her thighs further apart to allow him to fit fully against her. 

Colin groaned again as he thrust once, hitting as deep as possible. Penelope rolled her hips too, almost feeling an ache at how tightly he was sheathed. 

Her name escaped his lips almost like it was a curse as she felt herself clench around him. He rocked into her again, beginning to pick up pace. She did not know how she could stand it, the thickness of him stretching her, the heat that spread through her body with every thrust, his breath in her ear carrying the sound of his voice. 

She moved more, almost wanting it to hurt, wanting it to be too much. Her feet pushing her up, her hips lifting. She gripped the back of his neck, dug his bottom lip out with her teeth, sucked it into her mouth. She could feel her body tightening, the crest approaching, it was all too much. 

“Colin.” She almost sobbed his name, feeling how close she was, how big the feeling was that threatened to crash over her, how much she was going to lose herself.

His eyes locked to hers, dark and intense, he was anticipating it. Not willing to slow down or change. Wanting her to go over the edge. He looked almost proud. 

He brought his hand to her breast again as he continued to thrust, rolling her nipple between his fingers, squeezing.

“Colin.” She gasped, sharp and quick and then it all came crashing down, the feeling flooding through her. She was vaguely aware of her own cries.

He finally began thrusting harder, short punches of breath hitting her between desperate kisses. She felt his body beginning to tense, felt him grow even more inside her, heard his breathing become even more erratic. Then he was spilling inside her, and she was crying out as another roll of pleasure pulsed through her body.

They were both left panting, Colin trembling as he held his own weight off her. 

Penelope rose up and kissed him once more before dropping back. He joined her at her side. Gaining control of his breathing still.

“I had not thought it could get any better.” He said quietly at his ceiling, sounding somewhat stunned.

“Me neither.” Penelope responded thoughtfully, hearing her own breathlessness. 

Slowly, they began drifting into sleep, Penelope coming out of it enough to feel Colin bringing her against his body to hold her throughout the night. 

The funeral came and went, everything important having already been said. 

Afterward, they waited at Featherington house as everyone slowly left.

Philippa and Prudence had been slowly taking what they liked from the home. Some going to the Finch estate and some to Dankworth’s country seat.

Looking around, Penelope had the sense that they were almost done.

“Will you be back soon?” Penelope said, catching Prudence looking at the bust over the fireplace. Something neither sister had wanted. 

“There is no need.” Prudence said sadly. “Harry already has a house in London and we only plan on returning for Felicity to partake in the season. He tells me London really is much worse than the other places we will go.”

“Not barbaric?” Penelope smiled.

Prudence smiled back at her. “Apparently not. And I shall see for myself soon enough.”

“So shall I discuss with Colin’s solicitor about selling it then?”

Prudence looked confused. “Whatever for? You do not have a house and this one is right across from your family.”

Her family. Not the Bridgertons. Penelope was one of them now.

“I suppose that would be nice.” She almost said it would be nice for Colin, but it would also be nice for herself. She would not lose the ease of joining them for tea, or seeing Eloise whenever she needed to.

Prudence smiled again. “Then it is settled. It is yours.”

“Mine?” Penelope said weakly. 

“Maybe you could redecorate? It is a lot of yellow.” Dankworth came over and took Prudence’s hand.

Colin joined them and they all farewelled.

Penelope and Colin reached for one another’s hands in unison. Now that it was empty, somehow, the house seemed innocent.

It had only stood witness to the family within. Unable to intervene. What if it were to have the chance to begin again? To go from Featherington to Bridgerton? What could it become? 

“It could prove useful.” Penelope said carefully. Her voice creating a slight echo. “Being central to everything and right across from your family?”

Colin looked at her. “I did not think you would want to keep it?”

“It is true. I have many memories here, not all pleasant. But it has potential, does it not?”

Colin smiled. “It most definitely does.” 

Chapter Text

Before Penelope emerged from their carriage, a great round belly exited.

“My goodness Penelope you look as though you are about to burst!” Eloise cried without decorum, rushing to help her friend down. 

“Yes well I was still looking quite like myself when we first decided to come home but then we made the last minute choice to visit Francesca in the highlands.”

She stumbled onto the ground. 

“Now I really do look like an overripe citrus fruit!” She lamented. 

“Is she not glowing?” Colin asked, alighting the carriage, not having heard a word his wife had said. 

“Did he continue writing while you were away?” Eloise asked, pulling a face at her brother that told him to back away. 

“He did. He is much improved.”

“I am right here.”

“Did he actually make you read over all of it?”

“I quite enjoy reading it.” Penelope laughed.

“Again, still right here.”

“Really? I remember you once said he was no Lady Whistledown?” 

Eloise yelped as Penelope hit her.

“You cannot hit me back, I am with child!” Penelope cried as Eloise raised her hand.

Colin quickly stepped between the two of them. 

“If my calculations are correct, brother, you have not yet been married eight months.” Benedict grinned. “And I do think if your child grows any more your poor wife will be unable to walk.”

“And Colin does have such a large head.” Eloise added, looking rather concerned. 

“Yes, we are having a doctor meet us at Featherington house tonight.” Colin reassured them.

“Have you a cradle yet?”

“No, I am sure we have at least another month.”

“In another month you will have no need for a cradle but rather a solicitor and valet for he will be a full grown man. You best talk to Anthony and see if anything Edmund has grown out of can be carried across the square.” 

Colin and Penelope shared a worried glance. Benedict had rather unnerving prophetic abilities, but surely he would not be right about this.

A little before midnight Penelope’s screams echoed throughout the square.

A little after the sun had begun to sink her cramps had started, quick and from nowhere, growing stronger, forbidding her to sit still or lay down.

The doctor who an hour ago had declared her a long way off yet, having barely looked at her, was called back.

Not having waited for either a lady’s maid or escort, Eloise Bridgerton shot across the square by the light of the full moon and was now holding her friend tightly, much to the chagrin of Colin. 

“You do not have to stay  Eloise.” Penelope told her during the brief relief of the relentless pressures that seized her. 

“No, no. I assure you I am quite cured of my fear. I managed through both Daphne and Kate’s births did I not? I do believe it can be quite a beautiful thi-“

She was cut off as Penelope screamed and squeezed her hand until it creaked.

Eloise too made a yelp of pain. “You scream as though you are being cut by glass.” She said, sounding not at all cured of her fear.

Penelope shook her head. “No it is the same as our monthly pains. Only worse. Stronger.”

“The same?”

Penelope let out another scream of pain.

“They are getting stronger, that is good.” The doctor mused as he listened at the swell of her abdomen. “Tell me, Mrs Bridgerton. Has anyone mentioned the possibility of twins to you?”

Everyone in the room looked momentarily horrified.

“I have been traveling! I have not been checked before today and so nothing has been mentioned let alone…twins?”

“What can you hear?” Colin demanded.

“I picked up a heartbeat on each side. Both steady. So either you have a child who moves swiftly or there are two. Two would also explain the early onset of this labor. They prefer to come early.”

Penelope wanted to ask why this could not have been discovered earlier in the evening when he had last been by but she had to scream again as her muscles tensed so hard she thought they might break.

“Two.” Eloise said weakly, not letting go.

“Twice. I shall have to do this twice. I cannot even fathom once.” Penelope sobbed.

“Do not panic. I know that much, you are not supposed to panic.” 

“I wish my Mama were here.” Penelope sobbed harder. 

“I am here. Colin is here. We will not leave, not for anything.” 

The Colin in question made a frustrated noise, moving Eloise aside to take her place. “All will be well.” He told Penelope. “It is normal to feel dread towards the worst of things. It means everything is as it should be. You are too strong to let something as minor as twins defeat you. Now, let us talk about something else to keep your mind at rest.” 

As the sun dawned on Mayfair the world had two more Bridgerton children.

Deep in the dusk of the night William Bridgerton had let out his first cry as he arrived and not fifteen minutes later as the first rays of the sunrise streaked yellow overhead Agatha Bridgerton arrived.

Both were impossibly small, fitting snugly on their sleeping mother’s chest.

They had not had the time to hire a nursemaid and so they were stuck caring for the twins that first morning the unfashionable way, doing it all themselves. 

Anyone watching from the square that morning would have been amused as well-dressed Bridgertons went back and forth carrying various furniture and clothing.

Inside the still rather empty Featherington house a nursery was made, hung with art Violet sent with Humboldt and cradles carried down from the nursery by Gregory and Anthony. 

Hyacinth brought over several dolls for Agatha and Benedict found a stuffed horse for Will. 

As both new parents surveyed the room they smiled at each other. Happy to be home.