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Penelope walked into Bridgerton House knowing that the feeling in her gut could be ignored no longer. Slowly, she made her way to Anthony's study as she was instructed in his letter. "They must know" she ponders, "they know your secret and they are calling you here to confront you." Penelope fears she may be sick the closer she inches to the solid oak doors of the study. Before Humboldt can even turn the knob and announce the young Featherington's arrival, the doors are thrust open. There stands Colin, whiter than a sheet yet radiating nothing but pure rage. Penelope is taken about by his stature, not used to seeing Colin be anything but jovial, welcoming....lovable.

"How nice of you to join us" Colin spits as he urges Penelope to enter the study where Benedict, Anthony, and Lady Violet Bridgerton await her. Penelope knew she should greet them, say anything, but the words were not leave her mouth, frozen in her throat which was constricting rapidly. "Penelope, thank you for coming this evening. Do not be frightened, were merely wish to discuss-" Lady Bridgerton is interrupted by the sound of Anthony abruptly pushing back in his chair and standing. "I would disagree, Mother" Anthony's voice boomed through the study, nearly echoing down the halls of Bridgerton house. "I believe Miss Featherington has every reason to be frightened, as this is not a visit of good nature. Miss Penelope has something she must confess to us, does she not?"

Penelope was so shaken, she could do nothing but tremble under Anthony's stare. She glanced to her left, which proved to be a mistake, as her eyes met the void of Colin's stare. Finding a weak excuse for a voice, Penelope wetly began; "My Lord, I am sorry for whatever it is I have done that has proven so disagreeable, but I must beg that you tell me what it is I have been brought here for. " Penelope risked a glance to her right, noting that Lady Violet looked as if she could strangle her eldest son. "Anthony, we agreed that this is not how we would approach this. Please, have some tact. She is only young and a dear friend to our family."

"Bullshit, mother." Colin spat, the force of his words nearly making Penelope double over. Lady Violet is rendered speechless at the venom in his tone, a far cry from the sweet, sensitive Colin she raised. At this, he decides to continue. "A friend is honest. Forthright, even. Friends tell the truth even when it may hurt. Friends do not create an enterprise built on the fall of others. Wouldn't you agree, Penelope? Or should I say, Lady Fucking Whistledown?"

Penelope stands, as if she is no longer in control of her body. "I-I never meant harm Colin, please, you must believe there was a reason for everything I did. I would never intentionally hurt you or your family. Please let me explain!" "EXPLAIN?" Anthony explodes from the corner of the study, "Explain what, Miss Featherington? How you ruined Eloise without a single care in the world? How you referred to my proclivities with such callous language, how you ruined Lady Crane?" "YES!" Thundered Penelope, now finding herself feeling defensive, like a cat who has been cornered by a gang of bloodhounds, "Yes, I should like a chance to explain. Everything I did, was a direct result of the scandals you Bridgertons brought upon YOURSELVES." Penelope now screams, tears falling freely. "What was I meant to do, when Eloise's constant chasing after Whistledown landed her right into the hands of the Queen?" Anthony's face pales at this knowledge, stammering in a way Penelope, or maybe nobody, has ever seen. "What are you talking about Miss Featherington, why was I not informed of this? As the head of this household, I should have been told immediately so I may intervene!" Penelope lets out a scoff unintentionally. "Does something about this amuse you, Penelope?" Chimes Benedict, who has remained silent until now. Penelope turns her attention back to Anthony, Now feeling bolder-

"Anthony, before today, do you recall a time where we said more than a greeting to one another? Have we ever had a single conversation before today? No. Would you have believed me if I came to you, truly?" Anthony is silent for several moments as he contemplates the bitter truth that Penelope has laid at his feet. "I suppose I would not" He admits. "But that does not excuse you from the pain you have caused. Perhaps we should discuss this when we are not so emotional, yes?"

"Yes, I would find that to be most agreeable-" Penelope is cut off by the sound of glass shattering, and turns to see that Colin is bleeding. "Colin! " Lady Violet panics as she runs to tend to Colin's bleeding hand. "I apologize mother, I seem to not know my own strength." Colin says dejectedly, as Penelope realizes he had gripped his glass of brandy so tightly in his anger, it shattered in his hand. "I should be going, I think we all need some rest before we can truly discuss my reasoning. But I cannot leave here without knowing, at least for now, that my secret will be kept." She glances to Lady Bridgerton, who returns her stare with nothing but support.

"Pathetic" she hears Colin mutter, as she turns toward him with the iciest stare she could muster. "Colin, I understand I have hurt you, but I would expect that, of anyone in this room, you would be the most willing to hear me out." Penelope says in what feels like one breath. Colin rolls his eyes, " I suppose I should thank you, right? For saving me from Marina? Well unfortunately Penelope, I cannot. I cannot pretend that I am thankful you would take away a chance for me to have a family with the woman I love. " Penelope could not help but wince, feeling the cracks in her heart deepen with every confirmation that she would never be the one that Colin could love. "I do not understand," Colin continues, " How you could be so selfish. I know you have a childish fondness for me, but to sink to this, is beyond me." Penelope physically recoils at his words. "Colin....." Benedict looks at Penelope as he says his brother's name, "Don't you think that's a touch too far?" Penelope gathers herself enough to look Colin in the eye. "It is okay Benedict" She says, her spine stiffening "I do not need pity or protecting from Colin's words. I assure you all, whatever tender feelings I once had for Colin have been replaced with utter disdain. "

For a moment, Penelope can almost believe she sees pain flash across Colin's face. But that is not enough to stoke the fire that has been lit within her. "Mr. Bridgerton," she addresses Colin, "You are simply not the man I thought you were. Do not contact me again. In fact, " She gestures to the three eldest Bridgerton's while turning her gaze to Lady Violet, "I must ask that you ensure any and all contact from your third eldest son is indefinitely halted, Lady Bridgerton. I am more than happy to maintain your acquaintence, and answer any questions you may have regarding my column, but I will not be entertaining the likes of him-" she throws a disdainful look to Colin, who now maintains the stature of a scolded dog in the corner- "Ever again. Goodnight."

And with that, Penelope Featherington leaves Bridgerton House for the last time, while Colin Bridgerton feels her absence immediately.

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Penelope cried herself to sleep that night, after marching herself home and making her way immediately to her bedroom. Portia Featherington only took notice to Penelope's return to scold her youngest daughter for slamming the door. As Penelope laid in bed, chest-wracking sobs filling the quiet of her room, she came to a decision. Tonight, she would cry. She would mourn the loss of a love that was never requited, from a boy who was never truly the man she had so steadfastly believed him to be. She placed the blame on herself for her dashed dreams, as one should never hold someone to a standard so high, lest they fall once they have proven themselves to be fallible, human. What Penelope refused to take blame for, was having her love for him weaponized by his own mouth. "This whole time...." Penelope weeped into her pillow. This entire time, Colin knew of her affections and wrote them off as childish, a mere infatuation. Penelope may not know much about the intricacies of an adult relationship beyond the romance novels she reads in the quiet of her bedroom, but she does know that wearing your heart on your sleeve is not a weakness.

So she was never able to tell Colin from her own lips that she loved him. She never got to resolve the pining she carried out day by day. But more than feeling she has lost something, she feels embarrassed. Exposed, even. How could he have known this whole time? Was she so obvious? Was she just a joke to him? "Of course I was a joke, why would he see me any differently than the rest of the Ton?" She thought bitterly. With that, Penelope drifted off into a fitful sleep, her aching head no match for the aching of her treacherous heart.

---The Next Morning---

Colin rose from his fitful slumber with an aching head, and aching body, and a debauched heart. He knew that he had imbibed a bit too much before the meeting with Penelope, but he could not seem to stop himself. The rage he felt when he found Eloise crying in the attic, and confusion when she confessed what she had discovered about Penelope. His Pen. But she was no longer his Pen, was she? She was Lady Bloody Whistledown. With that thought, Colin feels the tell-tale signs that he is going to be sick, and rushed to the chamber pot.

Once he has sufficiently casted up his accounts in such aggressive manner he is certain all of Mayfair could hear him, he hears a faint knocking on his bedroom door. "Go away, I will be down to break my fast shortly" He yells to whom he believes must be a servant. Before he can even get up to clean himself off, he hears the doorknob turn, turning to see a bemused Benedict standing in his bedchamber, gently shutting the door behind him. " You may break your fast, dear brother" Benedict says, walking over to his disheveled younger brother, "but seeing as it is now 3 in the afternoon, I feel it is best to partake in a luncheon, no?" Colin looks at Benedict's smirking face and must fight the urge to slap him. Then his words sink in. "What do you mean 3 in the afternoon? Have I really slept so late? I must be going to speak with Will Mondrich and-" "And what brother, once again drink yourself silly?" Benedict interrupts. Colin scoffs and stands up, making his way toward the water bowl the servants must have set aside as he slumbered and washing off his face. "What has you so jovial this morning Benedict? Last I had checked, you were just as forlorn as the rest of us yesterday evening." Colin says, wincing mildly when the events of last night resurface, the cut on his hand a reminder of the anger that coursed through him. "Well Col, I must be honest. I was not truly as angry as you and Anthony, I felt the two of you were manning the helm rather sufficiently. And by that, I mean the two of you were right arseholes."

At this, Colin surges forward, "Ben, you cannot honestly tell me that Penelope is not deserving of our ire, after everything she's done?" Benedict takes a step back, plugging his nose. "Brother, perhaps you should partake in some of the lovely mint tea the servants have prepared, as your breath could strip a man down to his boots and peel the paint from the walls." Benedict says, as Colin recoils somewhat sheepishly. "And to answer your question" Benedict continues, "I would like to instead ask you, what has she done that is truly so dire, Colin? Do you expect us to believe that you were truly madly in love with Lady Crane? That Penelope would cast aside her dearest friend merely to get a leg up in society? A society that Penelope did not even want to debut into early, if you recall." Colin ponders this only briefly as he fixes Benedict with a cold stare. "Well Ben," he begins with a tone that makes Benedict stand a bit straighter in anticipation of his ire, "I guess I should take your word as gospel when it comes to being in love, yes? The man with more bedfellows than half of London?" Benedict does not respond, as he knows Colin has much more to spout off in order to feel better about himself. "And yes, I do believe Penelope could be so duplicitous. I am finding I do not know her at all. So, if you would not mind, I should like to have a bath and go about my day, as bottle weary as I am I still have the good sense to stand by my word."

Benedict turns on his heel to make a quick exit, but cannot help but ask one more question. "Colin, you can spit whatever vitriol at me you need to in order to feel better. I do not find you agreeable at the moment, but I do love you. Though, I fear I should not make it known that I love you, as you have a tendency to weaponize the tender feelings of others in order to further your own agenda." Colin turns back to Benedict, face wrought with confusion. "What could you possibly mean by that Ben?" He questions, confused and growing angrier the longer Benedict is in his presence, speaking in riddles. "Last night, you chose to hurt Penelope by embarrassing her with the knowledge that you knew of her affections. You did that to deliberately hurt her, Colin." Colin looks away shamefully, but only for a moment, determined to maintain his resolve. "You may think Penelope is duplicitous and evil," Benedict continues " But I think we both know that her wounds were not intentionally deep." With that, Benedict leaves, slamming the door behind him.

--- Featherington House, Afternoon ---

"PENELOPE, OH PENELOPEEEEEE" Portia Featherington calls from the foyer, rushing about in a whirl of yellow crinoline. "Mama, I am quiet tired, must I promenade today?" Penelope begs from atop the steps. Before she can even comprehend that her mother is moving, Portia is up the steps and pressing a hand to Penelope's forehead. "You do not feel warm to me, Penelope. You must get dressed, have Ellen assist you." Portia says, turning with flourish to make her way back downstairs. "Mama" Penelope begs, in a voice that may have been a bit whinier than needed. "It is not a mere headcold, I am having a particularly difficult round of my courses." Penelope says with faux embarrassment. Portia turns to her daughter, forehead pinched between her fingers with a dramatic sigh. "Penelope, a woman must persist despite her courses, we all have them!" Portia says, and Penelope cannot help but note that Portia has been free from her courses for a few years now. But she knows better than to acknowledge the advancement of Portia's age. "I understand mama, but I am in such pain I fear I may just- " and with that, Penelope pretends to faint flat on the floor. Varley rushes up the stairs, but Portia simply fixes Penelope's crumpled form with a tired glare. "Alright Penelope, you may rest. But I expect you to be recovered by tomorrow, as we will be attending the Stanton Ball as a family." Penelope cannot help but roll her (closed) eyes. She had forgotten about the Stanton Ball, a ball that the Bridgertons would surely be attending, as Anthony and Lord Jarreau Stanton were schoolmates at Eton. " Yes Mama, I will surely be recovered once I am able to rest." With that, Portia seems satisfied and ushers Prudence and Phillipa out the door.

The mention of the Stanton Ball has left Penelope quite unsettled. She gave herself one evening to wallow in her self pity, but now was the time to act. Penelope Featherington was going to re-invent herself. Rather than Give away her faux sick act, she decided to send a missive to Madame Delacroix advising that, come nightfall, she would be sneaking out to come pay her a visit. It was time for Penelope Featherington to start dressing like a woman.

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What feels like years later, but in truth is only a few hours, the Featherington household is fast asleep in their beds, save for Penelope. Once the house remains silent long enough, Penelope knows the coast is clear to make her exit. Donning her Lady Whistledown cloak and a coin purse with enough money to make the late night visit to the Modiste worth Madame Delacroix's time, she hastily makes her way out through the servant's entrance and into her hired hack. "To the Modiste at once, your discretion will be handsomely rewarded." Penelope smiles to the Carriage driver as he sets forth.

When Penelope arrives, she knows better than to knock. Per her missive to Madame Delacroix earlier in the afternoon, she would arrive just past midnight and enter through the service door at the back of Genevieve's shop. As she enters, she removes her cloak and releases a breath she did not know she was holding. Penelope's nerves had been shot, and within the Modiste's shop, it is the most at ease she has been since the meeting with the Bridgertons. She knows that she is safe here, even if only for a short time. "Miss Penelope! I have been waiting for you my dear." Says Genevieve, her faux French accent having been retired for the day. "Yes Genevieve, I apologize for the late hour, but i had to see you at once. There has been.......a change in my business practices." Genevieve eyes Penelope warily, "Miss Penelope, do I need to be worried about my involvement in your enterprise? I cannot have any risk of harm to my shop, this is my living, I-" "No matter, Madame Delacroix" Penelope interrupts, "You are at no risk. The Bridgertons have found out my secret, but only MY secret. You are not a risk, and your involvement in my business will be taken to my grave, I assure you." With that, Genevieve seems to loosen her stance, and offers Penelope at trusting smile. "Well, in that case, let us discuss your wardrobe."

Following two hours of measuring, choosing fabrics, partaking in more than a few glasses of Madame Delacroix's red wine, and discussing the new normal for Lady Whistledown, Penelope realizes the hour and her steadily drooping eyes. "I believe I must retire for the evening, dear Genevieve." Penelope says, more slurred than she had expected. "Miss Penelope, Please, be safe. It is not so kind out there." Penelope turns away from the door to look at Genevieve, knowing her words carry more weight than simply fearing for her safety on the darkened London streets. "Rest assured, I have become well-versed in the use of armor, Madame. Thank you, for everything." The two women share a meaningful look as Penelope makes her way out onto the street.

As Penelope makes her way to her hired hack that is awaiting her at the end of the street, she cannot help the feeling that she is being watched. She glances over her shoulder, seeing no one. "I really should not have had so much wine" she giggles as she speaks out loud to no one but herself. As she makes her way to the carriage, she hums softly to herself, reveling in the feeling of looseness the wine has provided. Just as Penelope was about to make her way onto the footpath of her carriage, a large figure comes out of the alleyway, wrapping their arms around Penelope and throwing her over their shoulder. Penelope is frozen for only a moment, before she begins lashing at the perpetrator and screaming. "LET GO OF ME, HELP, SOMEONE PLEASE HEL-" she is cut off by a hand over her mouth. "For god's sake, Penelope quieten down! It's me!" The voice of Colin Bridgerton hisses as he sets her down and rubs the back of his head, which took the brunt of Penelope's defenses. "What the hell, is wrong with you, Colin?! Grabbing a woman in the street in the dead of night? have you gone mad?" Penelope spits as she corrects her skirts and cloak that were left in disarray from the struggle. "HAVE I GONE MAD?" Colin is now yelling, as Penelope is now the one to shush him "Penelope, you are a young woman alone on the streets, what the hell were you doing? Actually, I do not think I want to know. I assume this has to do with your nasty Whistledown business yes?"

Penelope is momentarily taken aback by the force of Colin's words. No matter how angry they are, she will never acclimate to this tone coming from Colin. "I do not have to explain anything to you, Colin. Now, I believe I demanded you leave me alone. I will be going now." Penelope begins to stomp away toward her carriage. " Well, I never agreed to such an arrangement. I am coming with you." Colin retorts. Penelope scoffs, "Oh like hell you are Bridgerton. You are a big boy, walk home. If need be, I am sure one of the fine ladies at the brothel you are returning from could accommodate you at their lodgings for the evening. But you will not be coming into my hired hack." At this, Penelope slams the carriage door in Colin's face. "How does she know I was at a brothel? How does Penelope know what a brothel is?" Colin thinks as he is reeling from the slamming of the door. Unsatisfied, Colin throws the carriage door open as it begins to move, causing the carriage driver the halt with very little grace.

As Colin slides into the seat across from Penelope, she cannot help but stare at him, mouth agape, at the sheer audacity of this man. "Mr. Bridgerton, I hardly believe it is appropriate for you to be alone in a carriage with an unwed woman." Penelope looks away from and him and out the window after saying the last part a bit quieter. "And I am assuming you care so much about propriety? Tell me, Pen-" "DO NOT CALL ME PEN" Penelope roars, taking Colin aback. He recovers a moment later, firing back. "I WILL REFER TO YOU AS I SEE FIT. Now, If you could please enlighten me- what were you doing out , alone, in the dead of night?" Penelope turns to face him, eyeing him incredulously. "I thought you did not want to know what Lady Whistledown gets up to? How did you refer to it again? NASTY business?" She turns back to the window before continuing. "If you truly must know, Mr. Bridgerton, I was visiting Madame Delacroix. It seems she is now my only friend." At this, Colin cannot help the scoff that leaves his mouth. "Penelope, you cannot be friends with the Modiste she is a grown woman living outside of society." Penelope feels she may implode at any moment. "Pray tell Mr. Bridgerton, who may I turn to? Eloise has sworn me off due to my secret, without giving me even a moment to explain myself. And you, well...I do not believe you were ever truly my friend in the first place." Penelope cannot help the tears that begin to collect in her eyes, desperately trying to maintain her composure.

"What is that supposed to mean, Penelope? I was always your friend! Christ, I revealed your Cousin Jack's scheme to PROTECT you! I will admit that I let my anger get the best of me last night, but I will not tolerate your implications-" "Colin, stop" Penelope interrupts, raising her hands to halt him. "I understand you are hurt by Whistledown. I took away your choice when it came to Marina, and you feel like you lost control of the situation. I do sincerely apologize for how it made you feel, but I am not sorry I did it." Colin looks down, letting out an exasperated sigh. Penelope continues. "I am not sorry, because I do know you. I know your heart, and I know you would have been devastated when you learned she was with child. I tried to tell you she loved another, but you dismissed me. You always dismissed me Colin, when it came to Marina, when it came to me. You told me I did not count as a woman, and I must admit I even heard you at my Mama's ball telling the other men of the Ton that you would "never dream of courting Penelope Featherington." Colin's face takes on a shade of white she has never seen paint his complexion. "Pen, I had no idea you heard me, I-" Penelope again raises her hand. "I do not want an explanation Colin, I forgave you. I ALWAYS forgave you. Even when you hurt me, sullied my name, and chose others. I always forgave you. But when I need forgiveness, someone to understand...it is not granted to me." Penelope lets the tears fall freely now.

"Penelope, I cannot reconcile this. I know I have hurt you, and for that I am sorry, truly. But to be Whistledown, it is so toxic and cruel." Penelope stares at Colin for a long moment before her face suddenly looks different, more resolved. A bit frightening, Colin cannot help but think. "Colin, had you and Eloise ever taken the time to truly listen to me or make note of me, you would have known a long time ago that I was Whistledown. " Colin feels his anger rise again, "So what? We are stupid? congratulations Pen! you got one over on us stupid Bridgertons! Are you proud of yourself?" Penelope's defenses may have been lax for a moment, but she has hardened herself once again. "Colin, you once again do not see me. You do not understand me. You have chosen to mock me. My love for you." At the last remark, Colins gaze softens. " Penelope, I should not have said that, I did not know you truly felt anything for me in that regard, I-" The carriage comes to a sudden halt, indicating that they have arrive at Featherington House. "Colin, I do not want to discuss my feelings for you. They are no longer a factor. you have said yourself, I do not count as a woman. Now, If you will excuse me, I need to go inside and get some sleep. I have a ball to attend tomorrow and will be seeking the attentions of eligible gentleman." At that, Colin suddenly felt a strange pull in his chest, something deep that he couldn't identify. "Goodnight Mr. Bridgerton. And again, please do not seek me out anymore." And with that, Colin watches as Penelope disappears into Featherington House, taking with her Colin's last shreds of dignity.

--- Bridgerton House, Morning ---

Violet Bridgerton has had to do her fair share of damage control in her day. What, with 8 children, something is bound to be amiss at certain points of the season. What Violet could not control, it seemed, was her eldest son's temper. She had discussed with Anthony the plan for approaching Penelope regarding the startling revelation that she was Whistledown, and believed they had an understanding. They were never to bring harm to Penelope, as she was very dear to their family. When the time came, Violet could safely say she did not recognize her two sons. Colin's unmasked rage, Anthony's inability to remain calm in the presence of the young Featherington. If Violet was honest, she could say that she was humiliated that they had behaved in such a way. If she was even more honest, she would say she always had a slight inkling that the quiet, shy Penelope could have penned the salacious column. Violet herself was once a wallflower like Penelope, sticking to walls at balls and keeping to herself. Part of her had always seen a bit of her and Edmund in Colin and Penelope, and had a small hope that the two would eventually find their way to one another's hearts. Last night, however, she saw the resolve in Penelope's eyes and knew that Colin and Anthony, and possibly Eloise, had done irreparable damage.

"Good morning, Mother" Anthony greets as he makes his way to the table to break his fast. "Good morning, Anthony." She replies cooly. Anthony looks at his mother from atop his daily papers, noting that she had not referred to him as "Dearest." This was a clear indicator that she was quite cross with him, but he refused to be goaded into another confrontation so soon, not when he has spent the last two days since the confrontation with Penelope reeling and running through the ways he could have handled the situation better. When one is so impassioned, it can be hard to see reason. All Anthony knew, was Eloise had been found in the attic completely inconsolable, whilst Colin was screaming at her to take back her lies. "IT IS TRUE, COLIN" she had screamed with the most pitifully broken voice. "SHE IS WHISTLEDOWN, SHE IS THE AUTHOR." When Eloise had looked over Colin's shoulder and seen Anthony, she crumbled. "No one was supposed to know, please Anthony do not confront her I beg of you. I am cross with her, yes, but I cannot ruin her Anthony PLEASE." But Anthony could not stand to reason, he had to take immediate action, penning a missive that was to be delivered to Featherington House immediately.

To say Anthony now felt a great deal of shame would be an understatement. He knew that his anger was valid, but perhaps not his reactions. He had no idea that Eloise had ended up in such dire circumstances, and the shame of that would have been enough as is. But for Penelope to then confront him with the bitterest truth- that he had never even had a CONVERSATION with the young girl he had known since she was a small child. Perhaps if he had, she would have been more comfortable telling him the truth. Anthony did not have time to ruminate on the matter much longer, as his wife enters the room.

"Good Morning family" Kate greets, bending down to kiss Anthony and greeting Violet with a smile. "I assume we are all feeling a bit better in the light of day, yes?" Kate sits and lifts her tea to her mouth to drink. "Yes dear, I myself am feeling more refreshed." Violet lied. "I will be making a stop into the Modiste later this afternoon to procure some new ribbons for Francesca ahead of tonight's Stanton Ball, should you like to join me? Violet invites the Viscountess. "Of course, shall I request Eloise joins us?" Kate responds with a hopeful smile, that is quickly soured by Violet's unsure expression. "Perhaps we allow Eloise a respite for a few more days, yes? I suppose she will not enjoy the ball in her current state." Violet replies coolly, but is interrupted by a throat clearing.

"Actually Mother, " Eloise begins after entering the room, "I believe I should like to attend tonight's ball. I, too, am feeling refreshed."

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---Featherington House, 3 days ago---

"Eloise, I do not think I could possibly eat another bite, you have it" Penelope giggled as she slid the plate of cake over to Eloise. "You know," Eloise began, "you did once say that Marina's condition was caused by a cake...should I be worried that the rounding of my middle is a baby and not bloating?" Eloise grinned slyly. "Eloise Bridgerton!" Penelope gasps in mock offense. "Are you telling me you are with chiiiiiiiild? Are you having a baaaaaaaaaaaby?" The girls were in an absolute fit of giggles. "Yes!" Eloise retorts between cackles, "I am having a baby and she will be named Buttercream!" At this, the friends fell out in uproarious laughter. Their laughs were brought to an abrupt end by Penelope's bedroom door swinging open suddenly, Portia Featherington standing in the doorway none too pleased at the racket. "What on earth could possibly have the two of you making so much noise?" She asks, eyes immediately finding the plate of cakes between the two. "My goodness Penelope, what have I told you about sweets? This will only expand your figure." Portia grabs the plate from the girls and stalks back out of the room, leaving a downcast Penelope in her wake.

"Don't listen to her, you are absolutely perfect, Pen." Eloise says as she puts a comforting hand on Penelope's shoulder. "I know she only says these things because she truly believes she is helping me, misguided as she may be." Penelope replies with a small, sad smile. "I will be back in a moment, the fit of laughs seems to have caused me to need the chamber pot." Penelope says, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "I'll be here, with Buttercream!" Eloise reports as she she cradles her cake-filled middle and laughs.

With Penelope gone, Eloise looks around the room for ways to entertain herself in her absence. Eloise's eyes scan the bookshelf against the far wall. "I've read all of these, this will not do" she says out loud to herself. As she scans the room, her eyes catch Penelope's writing desk. Eloise did always find it interesting that Penelope had an entire writing desk. As far as she knew, the only person Penelope wrote to was, well......Eloise. Eloise sits down at the desk and browses through the various parchments laid about, one catching her eye that seemed unfinished. "Deares..." the page read, followed by the scribbled out section. For some reason, this seemed to beckon Eloise to search further, a sinking feeling in her stomach that she could not yet identify. As she searched the desk further, the corner of a sheet stuck out from underneath a thick book on the desk. Pulling at the corner, Eloise gasped and nearly fainted when she saw what was written on the page.

"Dearest Gentle Readers, it is with great joy that this author revels in the success-" Eloise closes her eyes. Begging the page to change into something agreeable when she opens them again. But no, she is devastated to find that the damning page remains, in Penelope's oh so familiar handwriting. The door opens, and Eloise hears a gasp. "Eloise.....what on earth are you doing?" Penelope asks in the smallest, most meek voice. "Funny," Eloise thinks, "She can be so meek when she wants to, whilst having all of London on a leash." "I could ask you the same thing, Penelope" Eloise spits the words out forcefully, wishing they were physical, tangible. Something she could ground herself by holding on to. "Penelope, you are Whistledown?" Eloise asks, disbelieving, through tears. Penelope casts her gaze downward when responding. "Eloise...I...... I can explain everything. Please. I beg of you, just hear me out. I wrote about you to save you." Eloise turns away from Penelope. "Save me? From who? Because at this moment Penelope, I can only see you yourself as a danger. How could you? To me? To Colin?" Penelope is crying now, Eloise's tears have stopped and she feels numb. "Eloise, I did that to save Colin as well. I assure you my intentions were pure, I did not know what else to do! Neither of you were listening to me, you were going to be taken in by the Queen for treason!" Penelope wails. Eloise looks at Penelope finally, but her face is unreadable. "Cressida may have been right then, you are in insipid wallflower. Do not expect me to save you when this all comes to light. You are no friend to me anymore Penelope."

Eloise can feel her heart break as she says the words. She runs, out of Featherington House and across the square to her home. There is a a spot she can always run to when she is upset, scared, nervous. There is a small area of the attic that nobody other than Eloise and the servants know about. She hurriedly climbs the small ladder up to the attic, and curls herself into the corner, letting her tears fall freely. She knows she is wailing, but she cannot seem to quiet herself. Before she even realizes the sounds she's hearing are footsteps, and she had forgotten to pull the ladder back up into the hole to conceal her hiding spot, Colin is in front of her.

"Eloise, breathe, calm down, look at me." Colin says, his hands cupping Eloise's face and trying to get her to look in his eyes. He had never seen Eloise panicking in such a way, he had barely even seen the girl cry. "Co-colin please l-l-leave me be" Eloise wails, pushing his body way from her. "Eloise I cannot, what has upset you so? Are you hurt?" Colin's concern only panicked Eloise more. "I cannot tell you Colin, I cannot break your heart." At this, Colin is determined to get her to speak. "Eloise, you must tell me this instant or I will have no choice but to send for the Physician and Mother-" "NO" Eloise interjects, "Please Colin do not get anyone else involved, I will tell you, but you cannot tell a soul. PROMISE ME COLIN." Eloise begs. Colin eyes his sister with so much concern and fear, Eloise cannot help but curse herself for leaving the ladder out and wailing so loudly. "Okay, Eloise, I promise. Please, what happened?"

"Penelope....she is Lady Whistledown." Eloise says in a single breath. Colin's hands drop from Eloise's face as he physically recoils. "Eloise that is not bloody funny, what would make you accuse Pen of something like that?" He yells, suddenly feeling as if he is suffocating. "It is true, Colin" Eloise says tearfully, "I found the drafts in her room, she confessed to me that she-" "NO, ELOISE TAKE BACK THIS LIE" Colin explodes. "I AM NOT FUCKING LYING COLIN, I WOULD NOT LIE ABOUT SUCH THINGS." Eloise shrieks, her voice now hoarse. At that moment, Eloise realizes the most fatal turn of events, as she sees Anthony has entered the attic.

Anthony's figure looms behind Colin, Eloise realizes too late. "Eloise, what is going on? Are you certain that Penelope is.....Whistledown?" He says the last word as quietly as Eloise's has ever heard him speak. "Yes.....Anthony she is. But I beg of you, no one is meant to know this, Please do not go to Penelope, I should not have said a word I- ANTHONY!" Before Eloise can stop him, Anthony has made his way down the ladder and is marching off to his study. Colin, shellshocked in the corner, can only sit with his mouth agape. Then, he stands abruptly. "Mother needs to be informed." With that, He too makes his way down the ladder and out the door.

All Eloise can seem to do is cry, looking out of the small attic window at Featherington House.

Chapter Text

---Featherington House, Day of Stanton Ball---

Benedict Bridgerton was never one for dramatics, often preferring a front-row seat to the scandal to input a quip to lighten the mood. When Penelope came to the study that night, he knew that he needed to form a united front with his family in the face of the Whistledown fallout. He did his best, truly, to remain stoic and wrought with concern over the situation, but truth be told he was just uncomfortable by the tail end of the display. Seeing young Penelope so distraught, defensive, and angry was not something Benedict can safely say he ever wished to witness. While he cannot say he has ever been particularly close with Miss Featherington, at least not in the way that Eloise and Colin were, he did have a soft spot for the girl. She felt like a fifth sister, always around and keeping to herself.

Which is why he now finds himself sitting, rather uncomfortably, in the Featherington drawing room as he awaits the arrival of the aforementioned redhead. His family does not know that he has chosen to call on Penelope, a welfare check even, and frankly he does not care if they know or not. Eloise, his dear (and dare he say, favorite,) sister is of course his priority. It must have torn her to pieces to find out Penelope's secret, he knows. But in no uncertain terms, he does believe Penelope was protecting his family. Of course she was! Benedict may be more laid-back than his brothers, but he is incredibly observant. He has always taken note that Penelope was protective of Eloise and Colin, even quietly interjecting to defend their honor when a jest was made at their expense though he could see it terrified her to speak out of turn. He is pulled from his thoughts by the sound of fabric sweeping the floor as her turns and sees Penelope in the doorway, looking a bit taken aback by his presence.

"Mr. Bridgerton, Good morning. What brings you to Featherington house today? Should I expect further admonishment?" Penelope looks just past him when she says it, she cannot bring herself to meet his gaze. Feeling a bit unmoored by her mistrust, while also understanding her intensity, Benedict chances a step toward her. "Penelope, I am not here to further any torment, and I truly must apologize on behalf of my brothers." At this, Penelope finally looks Benedict in the eyes. "Oh" she says, a bit surprised, "well, thank you Benedict. I did appreciate that you tried to reason with Colin." Benedict offers a sad smile. "Penelope, you must know he did not understand your feelings. I know this is not something you speak openly about, but I know your tenderness for my brother is-" "Benedict please" Penelope interrupts, "please do not make excuses for him. I know that I was not up front with my feelings, but now I cannot dwell. I am looking to be married this season and have let go of feelings that do not serve me." Penelope says with a straight spine, chin held high.

Benedict eyed Penelope, admiring her resolve. "You're exuding strength Penelope." Benedict said, and meant it. Penelope looks at him, chin wobbling ever so slightly. "Why did you come here Benedict?" Penelope questioned. "I simply wanted to check in on a very dear friend of the Bridgerton Family. And to tell you, with absolute certainty, that I do respect what you have created for yourself." Benedict finishes with a soft smile. Had this been said to her by anyone else, Anthony or Colin, Penelope would question it's truth. For whatever reason, Penelope knows she can trust Benedict. He has nothing to lose or gain for showing his support for her, and with her faithful friends now non-existent, she chooses to believe him. "Thank you Benedict. I truly never meant any harm with my column. I really believed I was protecting your family." Penelope looks away, willing her tears to stay hidden. After a beat of contemplative silence, Benedict stands. "I believe you, Penelope. I cannot speak for the rest of my family on anything else, but I can say that all of us would be worse off for losing you. I hope that, when the day comes that Colin and Eloise can remove their heads from their arses long enough to have a coherent thought, you will be healed enough to allow them back in. Though, should that day never come, I understand. Be well, Miss Featherington."

"Thank you, Benedict." Penelope says softly, it was almost undetectable. But as Benedict walked out of the door at Featherington House, he heard her.

---Two hours later, Featherington House---

"Penelope Anne, I am not seeing what the issue is here. You look like the sun!" Portia Featherington chirps as she fusses around Penelope in her flaming yellow ball gown, complete with an atrocious yellow bow atop Penelope's soft curls. "That is exactly the problem Mama! I will never be taken seriously by the gentlemen of the Ton if they are blinded by my gown!" Penelope plops down to the floor in a big yellow heap, dismayed. Just once, Penelope wants to feel like the woman she is. She had commissioned several gowns, most of which would not be ready until after the ball. "What's one more night of looking like a deranged lemon?" she thought woefully, trying to avoid the piercing gaze of her mother.

Penelope has had many fantasies of how this night would go since her decision to get over Colin Bridgerton. She would enter the ballroom in her cloak, removing it to reveal a striking green gown, emerald-like in it's shade and glow. She had seen the fabric in Genevieve's shop and knew instantly it needed to be incorporated in her wardrobe. Once she had Gen had discussed the cut, shape, and form of the gown, Gen promised Penelope that she would make her the most incredible gown that would make Penelope feel like a grown woman. OH, how Penelope wished the dress would be done tonight. She would glide into the ballroom, all eyes on her in admiration, her long red curls swaying behind her, her bosom tastefully accentuated. A small part of her allowed one particular detail to bleed into the fantasy, of Colin seeing her from afar and feeling an excruciating ache at what he lost, what could have been.......but Penelope shoved those feelings away. That was no longer her initiative. Colin Bridgerton's opinion no longer mattered.

As Penelope and her mother engaged in what felt like a staring contest, they heard voices in the hallway near the front door. "I'll only be here a moment monsieur, I have a delivery for Miss Penelope that I must deliver myself, as it is quite delicate material." Penelope hears a sweet faux-French accent. "Madame Delacroix?" Penelope says as she descends the stairs to meet the modiste at the door, a difficult feat when you're currently the human version of a lemon meringue pie. "Miss Penelope!" Genevieve says, pushing her way past the doorman, eye widening as she takes in another Portia Fetherington Select adorning Penelope's body. "I have a special delivery for you! I have been working on this all night so you would have it in time for tonight's ball. As she is speaking, she sets down a garment bag and begins sliding the material out.

Penelope thinks she may have fallen down the stairs and died when she came to greet Gen, because there is no way the breathtaking gown that Gen pulls from the garment sack could have been done in time for the ball unless this was a fantasy. "Gen......this.....this is...." Penelope says breathlessly. "Such a drab color!" Portia Featherington interjects, finally making her way into the room. "What on earth possessed you to make something so.....dark and drab for one of my girls?" Portia's shrill voice questions Madame Delacroix." "Madame, Please, just let Miss Penelope try it on, and you will see. It is time to let her shine, Madame." The Modiste reasons with a red-faced Portia. "Please mama? Penelope begs, "Please let me show you, I promise I would not embarrass you. Please." Portia eyes the two women warily, then nods. "I supposed trying it on would not hurt. But Penelope, if this dress does not flatter you, you will be wearing my selections. I will not hear any fussing, am I clear?" Portia raises an authoritative eyebrow at her daughter. "Crystal!" Penelope responds, beaming.

Penelope cannot get back upstairs fast enough to change, Gen and Rae joining her. Penelope had decided to have Rae join, as she is a much more agreeable and sweet lady's maid. Ellen, the maid that Portia had appointed to Penelope, was a bit gruff and made Penelope feel a bit uncomfortable. That simply would not do today. As Gen enters the room, she softly closes the door behind her. "Miss Penelope there is one more piece I wanted to show you, away from the eyes of your meddling Mama." Gen says, pulling a smaller garment from her personal bag. "I made you a new type of corset, one that will better accommodate your generous bust while allowing you more movement in your hips, so you can move as a woman should when she is embracing her own sensuality." Penelope's face reddens as Gen finishes. She may not know much, but she did know that sensuality was a part of seduction, and she did not know if that was something she was capable of. As if reading her mind, Gen places a hand on Penelope's cheek. "Miss Penelope, you are a beautiful woman, inside and out. You needn't worry about feeling ready to feel like a woman, you will embrace this as it comes. But it is time to show yourself that you are deserving of being desired and wanted. Please, just try it on. If you do not like that the looking glass shows you, you can always go back to what you know. You will not be judged by any of us in this room."

Penelope's eyes well with tears at such a show of support. She can see why Benedict and Gen had their tryst, as they both have shown their softer sides to Penelope today, unprovoked. "Thank you Gen," Penelope sniffles, "I wish to try it ton." Gen's smile widens, as she assists Penelope with removing her current garb. Once her corset is off, Genevieve places the new corset onto Penelope's body and begins lacing it. "Gen, it feels a bit loose, I can still breathe just fine?" Penelope questions with genuine concern. gen chuckles behind her. "Miss Penelope, the ladies of the Ton have been taught that beauty is pain. Truly, beauty is effortless, easy, comfortable. you do not need to suffer to be worthy of anything. Take a look in the mirror." Gen finishes, as she laces the last bit of the corset. Penelope looks up, and immediately her mouth falls open in a gasp. Her eyes trail down her torso as she takes in the lift of her breasts, pushed tastefully together without being forced toward her throat. Her waist slopes in, flaring out at her hips while still looking smooth, shapely. She looks......like a woman. "Gen, how have you done this? I am so.....comfortable!" Penelope giggles as she takes in her form. Gen smiles, " Miss Penelope, as I said. Beauty is not pain. You look so lovely, it is quite the shame you cannot attend a ball in just a corset!" she laughs, Penelope blushes at the thought. "I believe it is time to try on your new gown, no?" Gen cocks an eyebrow.

The dress is on faster than Penelope has ever been dressed in her life. As Gen slides the shimmering green fabric up her body, Penelope cannot help what feel like the 100th gasp from leaving her mouth. As Gen clasps the top and final button, Penelope hears a gasp from the doorway. "Penelope...." Portia Featherington says, eyes wide and alight with something Penelope has never seen in her mother. "You look......magnificent." She finishes, slowly making her way toward Penelope. Afraid to break the spell, Penelope merely gazes at her Mama through the mirror over her shoulder. "Thank you Mama." She says, turning to face her mother, chin held high, a new confidence blooming. "I would never imagine that such a dark color could look so lovely, even on a skin tone like yours!" Portia trills. "Ah yes, there it is." Penelope thinks, shooting a side-eyed glance to Gen, whose eyes are already plastered to the ceiling in annoyance. "Well shall we call for a carriage?" Portia says, whirling her skirts as she makes her way out, breaking herself from whatever spell she was under. As she walks away from her daughters room, she stops herself and rests against the wall, clutching her chest. She may truly not have her Penelope at home forever, not if she would be out in society in all of her beauty like Portia saw in that bedroom today. Bittersweetness fills Portia's veins as she puts her emotional walls back up, moving on to the next daughter she must prepare for the ball.

---Bridgerton House---

"Mother I am perfectly capable of fixing my own cravat, thank you." Colin huffs, frustrated with his mother's hovering. "I am merely trying to help dearest, you look as if you have not slept in a fortnight." Violet says, snapping her hands away, exasperated with her third-born son. Colin huffs something she cannot hear, and makes his way over to the door to enter the carriage to make his way to a ball he has no interest in. As he enters the carriage, he can hear Kate and Anthony finishing a conversation. "I just think it would do you some good to get over there and ask for her forgive-" Kate abruptly stops talking when Colin enters the carriage. "Oh don't stop on my account, I assume you are talking about Penelope?" Colin bites. "First of all Brother, I would recommend a change in tone when speaking to my wife." Anthony growls, Kate placing a calming hand on his back and pulling him down by his shirt. "Now now Anthony, you know this is a touchy subject for him. We need not discuss this just before a social gathering." Kate's calming voice brings Anthony back down. "No Kate, he is right. I was out of line, I do apologize Sister." Colin says genuinely.

"I just wish Penelope hadn't become such a sore spot for our family. We all care for her so deeply, I do not believe we should let these feeling fester and work on resolving them." Kate says sadly. Colin simply looks out the window as the carriage rolls on, contemplative and silently praying Penelope will not be at tonight's ball.

Chapter Text

---Grand Hall, Stanton Manor---

Stepping down from the carriage with as much grace as a horse that partook in too many glasses of brandy, Penelope's time at the Stanton Ball was already proving to be quite tumultuous, if the carriage ride alone is anything to go by.

"I do not find it fitting for you to so openly seek a husband when you have now been on the marriage mart longer than most debutantes, Dear Penelope." Portia rants as she fusses with the curtains on the carriage window, claiming she needed them to stay open so the Ton could see that the Featheringtons were inside such a grand carriage. Penelope tries her very best not to become flustered by her mother's harsh words, holding her head high. "Mama, I believe I am just as capable of finding a suitable match, as anyone else in the Ton. I do not see why you are so embarrassed. At least I am trying." Penelope huffs, looking away from her mother's prying eyes. "Penelope, I understand that you want romance and love and grand gestures, but that simply does not exist. Not in the way you think it does. It is best to seek security, that is what will carry you through life. Not love or romance." Portia has good enough sense to soften her gaze, but that just makes Penelope's skin burn even more with embarrassment.

Penelope thought that she wanted love, passion, romance. She thought that one day, Colin would really see her and those dreams could become reality. But now, she just felt like a fool. Of course he knew of her affections! What, with her moon-eyed stares, constant reassurance that he was a good and kind man, and steadfast loyalty to him and his family. She knows now that she must heed her mother's wisdom and seek security. While there is a part of her that does believe she could find some kind of a love, a different love, one day- she must still be practical.

Now, standing on the cobbled entrance to the Stanton Manor, Penelope knew she must remove her heart from her throat and carry herself with womanly grace. Making her way forward, she does not dare to slink against the wall upon entering the grand hall. She will never do that again, she promises herself. As she makes her way to the grand staircase, a footman comes to remove her cloak for her. Now, it is showtime.

She does not need to wait long for the eyes at the bottom of the staircase and along the walls of the room to make note of her. She gleams under the candlelight, her shimmering green gown flowing behind her as she walks, and her effortless curls cascading down her back in a daring hairstyle for an unmarried woman to bestow. Penelope makes her way down the stairs with her chin upward, shoulders back, and a small, but assured, smile on her face. Her walk has become somewhat of a saunter, her hips moving freely in a way that her former corsets did not allow. Genevieve was right, she feels......womanly. And it shows in the faces of the nearby men, once engrossed in droll conversation now staring, mouths agape in a decidedly ungentlemanly manner as Penelope drifts by.

"Good evening, gentlemen." Penelope purrs in a voice that she was not aware she had stored away in her vocal cords. The men, Lord Fife, Lord Kildare, Mr. Graff, and Mr. Stanfield, all stand slackjawed for a moment, before a raise of Penelope's eyebrow stirs them into action. "H-hello Miss Featherington!" Lord Fife booms, bowing to Penelope. "Might I offer you a beverage this evening? The lemonade is quite refreshing I must say." Fife offers, as Lord Kildare clears his throat. " Perhaps a lady of your standing should like something a bit more substantial, Miss Featherington, a glass of champagne perhaps?" Kildare asks. Penelope looks between the men for a moment, but knew as soon as Lord Fife spoke to her she knew she would not be entertaining him this evening, or ever. Frankly, she loathed to even be in the same airspace as Lord Fife due to his boastful nature and found him to be quite aggravating. Kildare would do just fine. "Lord Kildare, I believe that would be most refreshing." Penelope giggles as he sets off to find her her refreshment.

Across the room, she makes note of a pair of blue eyes watching her. Her heart stutters as she sees Eloise watching her every move intently. She did not think Eloise would be here tonight, did not let herself think of their first interaction post-Whistledown. It simply hurt too much. Her row with Eloise hurt nearly as much, if not more, than Colin breaking her heart. Before she can get herself out of her thoughts, she realizes those blue eyes are coming closer and closer, until finally Eloise is right in front of her. "I didn't expect you to show your face just yet." Eloise noted coldly, but Penelope couldn't help but notice the faintest tremor in her voice.

"And why wouldn't I, Eloise? After all, I am currently only a thorn in the Bridgerton's sides, not the whole Ton." Penelope replies coolly, whilst feeling anything but. "Well I would beg to differ Pen," Eloise states matter of factly, "If the Ton knew of you, they may have a few things to say." Eloise finishes with an eye roll. Penelope pales at this. "Eloise, I do not expect you to keep my secret from your family, but to tell the entire Ton, please-" "Oh dear God Pen, no." Eloise interrupts. Her voice choking, Eloise continues, "I could never.....I didn't even mean.... Can we discuss this somewhere privately? I am so cross with you, but I wouldn't tell the Ton anything. " Eloise looks at her feet, seemingly ashamed that she gave Penelope the impression that she had been threatening her.

As Penelope goes to respond, she sees Lord Kildare coming back with her glass of champagne. "We will speak, Eloise. Just...not tonight. Let's give it a sleep, yes? And then, maybe.....maybe we can meet at our spot?" Penelope asks hopefully, eyes glassy. "Maybe, Pen." Eloise says, turning away and wiping her eyes. As Kildare approaches, Penelope wipes her yes and fixes her posture. "Oh how kind of you, My Lord." Penelope says, once again in her most sultry tone despite the shakiness she can feel trying to break through. "Anything for a lady of your standing, Miss Featherington. Shall I sign your dance card? I would love to accompany you during a Waltz." Says Kildare with a glint in his eye. Penelope cannot seem to remember her words for a moment, never having been asked by a man to sign her dance card. Amidst all of her dances with Colin since she has been out in society, he never signed Penelope's dance card, not even once. Snapping herself out of the memory, she responds to Kildare with a shy giggle, "I would like that very much My Lord." -----------------

Colin watches as Penelope glides through the room. She has yet to notice him, but he noticed her. Oh, did he notice her. At first, she nearly slipped under his radar, as he was expecting to find her in her signature yellow. But what he saw instead nearly knocked him to his knees. She was gleaming, like an emerald, her hair the soft red of a blazing sunset. "My god, Penelope." He thinks as his gaze follows her figure heading toward a tall gentlemen. He should intervene, no? He knows how these interactions tend to go with Penelope when faced with the gentlemen of the Ton. He has never understood their aversion to Penelope. She is an excellent conversationalist, cuttingly hilarious, and truly a very cute young woman. Her cherubic face, painted with the natural rose of her complexion, her long lashes framing her ice blue eyes. What was happening? He had never let him entertain these thought about Penelope before, what has gotten into him? While gazing from across the grand hall, he realizes- He has never seen Penelope's figure so.....out there. Colin shakes his head to rid himself of these thoughts.

Oh he was a pig. He was a real cad, a rake of the worst kind. He is at terrible odds with the woman across the ballroom and all he can seem to do is ogle her generous bosom and the curve of her hips. He knows now he must intervene before Penelope confronts these men. If these are the thoughts he is having about someone who is....or, was... he guesses..... his friend, then he can imagine the lewd thoughts of the rakes that have convened in front of her.

Before he can intervene, however, he hears a familiar sound and sees Penelope tossing her head back in a laugh. She's enjoying herself. She's conversing with this gentleman, Lord Kildare, as if it's second nature to her. He laugh, oh god he didn't realize how much he missed that sound. A real, genuine laugh free of malice or scorn. And it was because of Lord Fucking Kildare. This simply would not do. But before he can make a move, he sees Kildare signing Penelope's dance card as she gazes at him, moony-eyed. Something in Colin's chest twists at the sight. What the hell was wrong with him?

Colin doesn't even realize what he is doing as he makes his way toward her, Kildare having left her side for whatever reason. "Fool." Colin thinks as he makes his way closer to Penelope. Penelope turns around, and their eyes meet almost as if they were magnetized. As hers widen, he almost sees a familiar spark of recognition, until it is immediately replaced by annoyance.

"Good evening, Penelope." Colin says with a lopsided smile. "Good Evening Mr. Bridgerton. What can I do for you?" Penelope replies icily. Colin did not think this through beyond initial greetings. Hell, he didn't think this through at all. "Pen, I could not help but notice your charming new dress." Colin says with a smile, but is only met with Penelope's confused and increasingly angry glare. "Well, I am certainly glad I have the approval of the coveted bachelor Mr. Bridgerton. Now, if you will excuse me, I have other things to do rather than endure excruciating small talk." Penelope huffs as she turns away from him, but she does not get far as Colin gently grabs her gloved hand. Trying to ignore the way his heart fluttered when he touched her, he looks into Penelope's eyes one last time. "Pen, I need to speak with you. Privately. Can we please go somewhere and talk? I wish to hear you out, and I have some things to say to you myself." Colin pleads.

And Penelope laughs. An eyes watering, chest-wheezing, doubled over as much as you can in a corset, belly laugh. Colin is so taken aback and drops his hand from Penelope's and takes half a step back from her. Several eyes are now on Penelope at this display, as she cackles. Colin has half a mind to grab her by the arm and drag into the nearest room to end the display. "Pen, what could possibly be so funny? Have you gone mad?" He whispers, turning their bodies away from prying eyes. This sobers Penelope, as she stands up straight and wipes her eyes from her laughter induced tears. "Mr. Bridgerton" she pants, trying to even her breathing, "I am so honored, so FLATTERED," she venomously spits, " That you are now so willing to hear me out. But I do not care, not anymore. Kindly, you may go off and do whatever it is you do in your downtime. I know you have a lot of it now that you are not facing impending illegitimate fatherhood." Colin balks at her statement, words escaping him. He has no time to respond before Penelope storms off, her emerald gown sweeping behind her.

Chapter Text

---Stanton Ball---

As Benedict weaves his way through the throng of dancing bodies and gossiping groups, he attempts to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. His Dear Mama seems to have chosen him to push her marriage agenda on this evening, and frankly there is not enough brandy in the world for Benedict to drink to find her pestering tolerable this evening. He knows he is being a bit unfair, as she just wants the best for all of her children, but it is hard to see reason when he cannot even be honest about his feelings. Everything is so tense and complicated, his family so divided at the moment that Benedict cannot imagine bringing some poor soul into the fray at present.

At Benedict finally makes his way to the refreshment table, he spots his brother across the room, his ears tipped with red and a sheepish look on his face, a swirl of emerald green and auburn rushing away from him. Concerned, Benedict finally catches his brother's eye and ushers Colin over with a tilt of his chin. Colin makes his way over to the table, head down and his steps rapid. "Benedict, I do not want to hear it right now." Colin says, exasperated. "Brother, I do not even a quip at hand. That is how concerned I am about you." Benedict retorts, earning an eyebrow raise from Colin. Finally, Colin's shoulders fall and he looks down. "Penelope will not speak to me. Well, she will speak to me, but only if it is to put me firmly in place. I guess she truly does detest me as much as she said she would." Benedict pretends not to notice the way Colin had to swallow at the end of that sentence.

"Well is this not what you wanted, brother? To be rid of the lecherous gossip monger?" Benedict whispers the last bit as Colin looks at him incredulously. "What are you on about? Of course I am angry with Penelope, but I did not intend for this. I did not intend to never have a meaningful conversation with her again." Colin huffs. Benedict is quiet for a long moment, sipping his champagne and snacking on his cakes. Eventually, he sets his glass down, wipes his hands on his trousers, and slaps Colin in the back of the head. "What the devil, Ben?!" Colin exclaims, drawing the eyes of several partygoers nearby. Not answering, Benedict grabs Colin by the arm and roughly drags him into a room off the hallway of the quiet east wing of the estate.

"I could throttle you for that Benedict, what the hell is wrong with you?" Colin yells, as Benedict slams the door shut.

"I have just about had it with your fickle temperament, brother." Benedict eyes Colin coldly. "I need you to answer this question honestly, and do not bother lying because I have no qualms with giving you another good smack. That felt GREAT and I am already itching to try it with the other hand." Benedict spits, and Colin has good enough sense to stay quiet and sit down. Benedict is never this straightforward, or violent for that matter. "Ok, what is it you must ask me?" Colin says carefully.

Benedict takes a breath and centers himself. "What exactly did you love about Marina Thompson, Lady Crane? Can you tell me, in specific detail, what was so special about her that you are willing to die on this hill?" Colin sits, mouth agape, as he responds. "Benedict, what are you on about? There was a plenty to love about Miss Tho- Lady Crane." He corrects himself. "Well, then tell me" Benedict says smugly, leaning on the door frame, "Tell me what these multitudes are, Colin."

"Miss Thompson was sweet, and kindhearted." Colin says, holding his chin high. Benedict nods, pretending to contemplate this, "Well how lovely, what made her so kind? What acts of kindness did she display during your courtship?" Benedict sits across from Colin, folding his hands under his chin and kicking up his feet, looking him with anticipation. Colin balks at this, "I-I am sure I am simply too stressed to recall specific events in which she-" Colin sputters "In which she was kind? A bar minimum character trait for a respectable marriage? Tell me Colin, What did she ask you of you dreams? Your desire to travel? How many children did she want, that she wasn't already pregnant with?" Benedict interrogates, now standing above Colin. "I DO NOT HAVE TO LISTEN TO THIS, I AM A GROWN MAN AND I KNOW MY FEELINGS." Colin thunders, standing up and pushing Benedict out of his way.

"Fine, Colin." Benedict rolls his eyes, then continues, " I simply think you should be asking yourself who it was that asked you about your dreams. Who gave you the modicum of confidence you needed to travel. Think of the person who has shown you more times than anyone else what the embodiment of kindness is. Think back on your memories of Marina and reduce the lovesick blur enough to see who was in the background the entire time." Benedict walks away from Colin, but with his back to him, leaves him with one more piece of unsolicited advice. " Once you are ready to acknowledge these things, and realize that you are simply too fickle, I will be here for you. But until then, you need to be alone to ruminate." And with that, Benedict leaves the room, a confused and frustrated Colin in his wake.

----Stanton Garden---

Penelope can feel the eyes on her as she walks with Lord Kildare in the garden, Rae alongside to chaperone. She thought tonight would be the night she truly felt like a woman, flirting her way into being the talk of the Ton, but really she just feels exposed in a way she did not expect. Her initial confidence is gone, she is uncomfortable with how much of her bust is on display and how much eye contact Lord Kildare has been making with it instead of her eyes. as they walk in the garden, Penelope stumbles, ripping her dress in the process. "Oh my, Miss Featherington, are you okay?" Lord Kildare says hurriedly, but Penelope can unfortunately hear the poorly veiled laugh in his voice when he says it. As she regains her footing, she can see Cressida Cowper and her gaggle of loathsome lackeys giggling, covering their mouths. But what really strikes her, is the eyeroll she catches from Kildare to Cressida, as if to say "This clumsy sow." Penelope decides her night is absolutely over, turning to face Lord Kildare and straightening her spine.

"Lord Kildare, it was a splendid evening. But I feel I must retire now." She says, turning away and hoping Kildare has the good enough sense to just let her walk away. He, of course, does not have a lick of good sense, grabbing her elbow and turning her back around. "But Miss Featherington, the night is still young! Might I convince you to stroll with me near the pond? Or perhaps we could get another drink!" The lord says as he begins pulling Penelope toward the dark and secluded pond area. "No, Lord Kildare, I do not believe I would enjoy that, let go of me." Penelope says firmly, but the gentleman seems to have lost his gentleness. "I'll have you know, Penelope," Kildare spits, " I wasted my entire evening on you, the least you could do is give me a small glimpse of what's under that tattered dress-" Penelope cuts him off with a resounding slap to the face, as Rae gasps, unsure how to handle the entire spectacle but ready to tag team this despicable man to the ground. "I will have you know, My Lord, I don't owe you a damn thing. Now, you will leave me be, and let me go home, or you will become intimately acquainted with the barrel of a shotgun, do you understand me? Stay the fuck away from me." Penelope turns away and begins marching away.

"Is that a threat, you fat bitch?" Kildare yells as Penelope makes her way back toward the house. "It's a promise." She hears a familiar voice say, and then the distinct sound of a man being kicked in his nether regions. Penelope turns around to see Anthony Bridgerton standing over Lord Kildare's now wilting frame. "And I can assure you, I will be the one that loans her the rifle. Stay away from Miss Featherington, and any other young women of the Ton." Anthony says in a disturbingly low whisper.

Once Lord Kildare gains his faculties and runs away, gripping his balls for dear life, Anthony makes his way over to a now-rattled Penelope. "You did not have to do that, Lord Bridgerton. I handled him." She says, refusing to meet the Viscount's eye. "Of course you did Penelope, and please, you know that you may call me by my Christian name." Anthony says, trying to get her eyes to meet his. "Penelope, I hope you know that I truly will protect you no matter what. Everything I said in the study, the way I acted...I am ashamed." Anthony says, now sounding shy in a way Penelope did not know was possible for him. Finally meeting his gaze, Penelope decides to once again replace her armor, but she cannot help but give Anthony some grace. "Thank you, My Lord. Though I no longer feel comfortable referring to you by your Christian name," She notices Anthony's slight wince at those words, " I do appreciate that you recognize your behavior as inappropriate. I hope you know, I truly am sorry for the way I handled things. But I am not sorry for doing them. Goodnight, my Lord." As Penelope walks away, she cannot hear Anthony's faint words "Goodnight, Penelope."

Penelope makes her way to her carriage, and finally makes it to her bedchamber, stripping herself of her gown and replacing it with a fresh nightgown. As she lays her head on her pillow and drifts off, she cannot help but shed a fear tears. What an emotional evening. Before she can fall into a true slumber, Penelope remembers her small discussion with Eloise. She really must speak to her, even if it is the very bitter end of their friendship, they both deserve closure. Penelope decides to write a short missive to Eloise to be sent off immediately, sitting at her desk with shaking hands as she dips her quill into her ink.

"Eloise,

I know that you are angry. I understand. I appreciate that you did come to me at the ball to talk, and I am quite disappointed that I did not take the opportunity to speak to you then and there. If you are still amenable, I should like to meet you at your spot tomorrow, during the morning promenade. I hope you will take me up on this.

I miss you terribly already and it has only been a few days.

Sincerely-

Penelope x"

Chapter Text

The sun was shining and the sky was a most perfect shade of blue, washing the Ton in gorgeous and rare light as the esteemed families took part in a promenade. As Penelope walked with her mother and sisters, she could not help but feel as if her heart was ready to jump from her throat and run off. Eloise had not responded to Penelope's missive, which hurt Penelope deeply, until the Bridgerton's arrived in the park that day. Her eyes met Eloise's almost immediately, and Eloise nodded as if to say "Yes, we will talk." It was as unnerving as it was comforting.

As Penelope attempted to break off from the Featherington brood on the footpath, her mother's watchful eyes caught her. "And where do you think you are running off to, Penelope?" She questioned, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow. "I am merely a bit weary from the unusual amount of sun Mama," Penelope lied, "I should like to take a short reprieve under the willow, if that would be alright?" She asked with a voice feigning sweetness. Portia nods, letting out an exasperated sigh, "Fine. But only for a few moments Penelope, we need to be a unit." Penelope cannot help but roll her eyes once she turns away from Portia. As if "being a unit" would remove the stain of being the tackiest, most tasteless family in the Ton. As Penelope moves toward the willow, her breath catches in he throat. She can see through the branches the distinctive Bridgerton Blue of Eloise's skirts. Eloise must see her too, because she hears a faint gasp.

"Pen, you came." Eloise says as Penelope pushes past the branches. "Of course, Eloise." Penelope sighs sadly, but mildly comforted by Eloise's softer tone. The two girls just stare at one another in the silence for a moment, neither knowing what the first step should be. As Penelope is about to break the silence, Eloise beats her to it.

"I am still so cross with you, Penelope." Eloise says quietly, looking to the floor, as Penelope's heart clenches. Swallowing, and stiffening her spine, Eloise continues. "I am so cross, and confused, and hurt. But I am also just so lost. I do not know if I should be angry with you for the pain you caused, or grateful to be free of the Queen's scorn. I know not which end is up anymore, and most of all, I simply do not feel like I know you anymore." Penelope's eyes are filled with unshed tears and she looks at her friend, sallow skin and dark under eyes from having lost sleep, Penelope muses. "You do not need to know what to do right now, Eloise." Penelope offers sadly, "I know that your anger is strong. And as for you confusion, I really wish to explain to you my entire enterprise. My reasons, my moves. I did not always do things the right way, but I always tried to do the right thing." Eloise finally meets Penelope's eyes, grey orbs meeting ocean blue. "I want to believe you," Eloise almost whispers "but I need some time. I would like to have that conversation, but only when I know how to ask. When the edges of my anger have dulled. Because right now, Penelope, I am not proud at how badly I want you to feel the pain I felt when you betrayed me."

Penelope is mildly taken aback by Eloise's candidness, but refuses to take for granted that Eloise is being so open. "I know, and I will give you time. But please, please come to me when you are ready." Eloise seems to stiffen for a moment, causing Penelope to look at her puzzled, "What is it?" Penelope asks, now worried by the change in her demeanor. "I just hope that you know I did not mean to.....I never thought anyone would find me in the attic. Colin threatened to call the physician if I did not tell him why I was so upset. I never intended to tell anyone your secret." Eloise is now allowing her tears to fall, clearly ashamed at what the matter had come to. Penelope softens, before placing a hand on Eloise's shoulder tentatively. "I know. It is a circumstance that neither of us ever prepared for. Truly, it was the push I needed to-" Penelope is cut off by the sound of a blood-curdling scream as Eloise jumps a foot in the air.

"SPIDER, SPIDER, SPIDERRRR!" Eloise screams and she begins slapping at Penelope's shoulder. Once Penelope processes what is happening, she begins screaming too, 'GET IT GET IT OFF ME ELOISE HELP!" The two girls are shrieking as they try to get the big black spider off of Penelope, and they are horrified to see the spider crawl right down the armpit of Penelope's sleeve. At this, Eloise, jumps into action, and Violet and Portia are running through the branches of the willow tree to get to the two screeching girls. "PENELOPE ANNE FEATHERINGTON YOU CALM DOWN THIS INSTANT" Portia thunders as Violet tries to make sense of the absolute hell that has broken loose. Seeing Penelope struggling with her sleeves, she calls Portia over, "Portia, unbutton Penelope's dress and I will try to get the spider out" Violet orders. "Absolutely not, Lady Bridgerton! My daughter will not be DISROBED in public!" Portia stands aghast as Eloise pushes past her to get to Penelope, seeming to have been forced into action by Portia's ghastly response. Unbuttoning Penelope's dress, Violet unlaces the first few fastenings of Penelope's corset, causing the garment to fall slightly and exposing the tops of Penelope's breasts. "It is okay, my dear, I've gotten the spider out! Poor thing must have been smashed to bits in the struggle" Violet gently reassures Penelope.

"Thank you Violet, though I am embarrassed I reacted so hysterically-" "I heard screaming what is-OH MY, Pen I am so sorry." She is cut off by the voice of none other than Colin Bridgerton, the last person she wants to see on a good day, red-faced but unable to turn away. Penelope cocks her head to the side in confusion and then remembers, violently, how exposed she is at the moment. Her corset has now slipped even further, showing the very tops of her nipples. "COLIN GO AWAY" Eloise scream as Penelope spins away from his eyes and Violet helps set her to rights. "Colin, now!" Violet orders, as Colin seems to be in some kind of stupor. He seems to find his footing again, muttering what sounds like an apology, as he runs off. Penelope has never wanted to die, but right now she wishes the ground would swallow her and spit her back out very far away from this willow tree.

---Bridgerton House---

Colin slams the door to his bedroom after running, not walking, back to Bridgerton House. The humiliation he feels in insurmountable. What the hell was WRONG with him? One glimpse of Penelope's perfect breasts and he's acting as green as a school boy. Wait, did he says perfect breasts? Where in the hell did that come from? Colin paces across his bedroom, unable to shake the jittery anxious feelings in his gut. Amongst other places.

See, Colin has always known Penelope was a natural beauty. No, her clothes may not have always been the most flattering, but the beauty possessed was in her warmth. Her smile, her laugh, all encompassing in their ability to make HIM smile and laugh in turn. Her flaming red hair and pale skin was always quite pleasing to him, but he never let his thoughts travel beyond that. Because if he did, he would take note of Penelope's....other....attributes. The way her stature made her perfectly pocket sized, being over a head shorter than him. The way her hair, when let loose, would fall almost to her perfectly plump bottom. No, Penelope was not thin like many debutantes, but she was built in such way that she harnessed a softness that Colin often found himself longing for. But now, Colin has been faced with the impossible task of being given the smallest glimpse of what is hidden under Penelope's clothes and having to forget what he saw. As if he could ever.

He feels disgusting. Not for thinking of Penelope as desirable, but for the timing. Why must he be having these thoughts when she has betrayed him so? His resolve was waning, and he knew it. More than anything, the lewd thoughts of her body were more manageable than facing the fact that they have not even been at odds for a week and he already missed her. Her warmth, her kindness, her wit, her company. But then the anger, that burning rage returns. She lied, she hurt his family. But then Benedict comes to mind, and the conversation in the study at Stanton Hall. When Colin ruminates on who it is that has steadfastly supported his wild dreams, it is not Marina's face that comes to mind. It is her, red hair and open heart. It is not the suitable and svelte gowns worn by the debutantes of the Ton, it is bright and yellow and crinoline.

Colin drops to his bed, his pacing wearing him down. Maybe he would be worn down enough to sleep tonight, but then he would only been plagued with dreams of Penelope, as he has been for days. He wishes the dreams had been lurid in nature, raunchy and scandalous, so that he may chalk them up to simply seeing a new side of Penelope. But they are not, rarely do they even kiss in these dreams. Instead, he has been imagining a small home, a cottage of sorts, in the winter with a fire going. He looks to his left to see Penelope, rocking a small baby to sleep. She glances up to find Colin already staring at her, wet eyed, as she says- "What a life we have made for ourselves, my love."

And every morning, he rises with a feeling a grief.

---Featherington House, Evening---

Penelope thinks that her mother could strip Spain bare with the winds coming from her mouth as she screams at her. "YOU COULD HAVE BEEN SEEN BY THE ENTIRE TON, DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?" Portia yells, spit flying from her lips in a decidedly un-ladylike manner. "Yes Mama, I do. I did not intend to bare myself at all! There was a SPIDER! And how was I to know Colin Bridgerton was going to involve himself in the matter?" Penelope argues, having already been at this for an hour and wishing she could simply forget the day altogether. It was bad enough for Colin to see her in that state, but then he had ran away as if the sight of her was so disgusting her simply could not bear it.

She was getting over Colin, really, she was! But to have further proof that he finds her so repulsive was a blow to her ego. While she was not intending to let it consume her, Penelope would have liked a moment of respite to go lick her wounds in peace. But Portia was having none of it. "I will have you know we are an ESTEEMED family, Penelope. I cannot have any of my daughters running around with their baps out like some kind of-" "MAMA!" Penelope cuts her mother off, gravely insulted by the language. Before Portia can continue to berate her, Penelope stands and excuses herself. "Mama, I should like a moment to collect myself. I hear you, but I need to rest for a but. I was in the sun for far too long the humiliation of the day has me feeling a bit under the weather." Portia, somewhat shocked at her daughter's dismissal, merely nods and waves her off.

As Penelope enters her room, she changes into her nightgown without the help of her maid, having had enough eyes on her body for the day. Grabbing a new book to read, she goes over to her bedroom window and takes a comfortable seat, blanket on her legs and head against the window. She chances a glance across the square to Bridgerton House, and gasps as she realizes she is already being watched. At his window, Colin Bridgerton seems to have been caught gazing across to Penelope's bedroom. The two share a look, something in his eyes that Penelope has never seen. The moment is too much, feeling like a raw and exposed nerve. Penelope reaches above her and draws the curtains, ending the emotional stalemate. That was enough exposure for the day.

Chapter Text

--- Bridgerton House, One Week Later ---

Colin Bridgerton was no stranger to loneliness. On his travels, he often found himself seeking out letters from his family, only to be disappointed when none of them returned his sentiments. In truth, the only Bridgerton to write back to Colin was his Mother, even then her missives were quite short. The one thing Colin could always count on was word from Penelope. Even now, he knows his heart would soar just from seeing her familiar swirled penmanship and the anticipation of what stories she would regale him with from home. He shakes his head as he tries to forget about her words. That is not his life anymore, and he is determined to snuff out whatever budding feelings are growing within him. He has not seen hair nor hide of Penelope in one week, not since the debacle under the willow tree. Was he avoiding her? No. Was he grateful for the distance? Yes. Was he so stir crazy he thought he may chew a hole through the wall? Also yes.

Making his way down stairs after finally dressing for the day, Colin is greeted by his eldest brothers in the drawing room. "You seem to have slept right through breakfast brother." Anthony says gruffly from atop his ledgers, eyeing Colin somewhat warily. "Yes, I had a fitful night of rest and needed the respite." Colin retorts, grabbing a snacking cake from the table and taking a seat on a nearby settee. Once settled, Colin notices the house is much quieter than usual. "Where is everyone, Ben?" Colin asks, finally acknowledging his smirking brother in the corner. "Well Brother, had you been awake you would have known that Mother has taken the girls to the Modiste to be fitted for new overcoats, and young Gregory is in the garden trying to perfect his backflips." Benedict says the last bit with a laugh, to which Colin cannot help himself but to chuckle. "Well, I suppose that leaves us to our own devices for the day then, fancy a drink down at Mondriches?" Colin eyes both brothers, growing more disconcerted by their shared eye contact and feeling as if he is missing the memo on something.

"Actually, Colin Benedict and I have an errand to run. We will not be back until much later, and should head out now actually." Anthony stands, placing his ledgers down and heading for the door whilst shooting Benedict a look over his shoulder. "Ah, yes, an errand. Pray tell what this errand may be?" Colin asks somewhat curtly. Benedict glances over to Anthony looking somewhat guilty, "Ant, we may as well be honest. He his nosy enough to find out on his own.." Anthony sighs, turning to face Colin with his jaw set. "We have an errand to run for the Featheringtons. It does not concern you, and we expect you to stay out of it." Anthony demands firmly. Colin, only hearing "Errand" and "Featheringtons" feels his anger rise as he stands, head to head with Anthony. "What on earth could you possibly need to do for the Featheringtons? Is Penelope well? Has something happened?" Colin rapid-fire questions the eldest Bridgerton.

Benedict comes over and places a hand on Colin's shoulder, which Colin immediately shrugs off. "Colin, everything is fine. The Featheringtons were left in a very.....precarious situation when Lord Featherington was killed. They need to be advocated for, as there is a nasty solicitor pestering them." Benedict explained gently, only fueling Colin's anger. "And why would I not be involved in this? Penelope is my best, my frie, my.....I know Penelope very well and she will not want the two of you butting into her family's business. She would be mortified." Colin explains, fists clenched. What on earth had his life come to? Anthony and Benedict barely KNOW Penelope and here they are trying to save the day, like two knights in shining armor coming to rescue his woman. Colin sobers immediately at the words his brain just conjured. Penelope is not his woman, Penelope is her own woman. She's Lady Bloody Whistledown, she is. The latter causes him to recoil a bit, sitting back down on the settee. "Fine, do what you will. I do not care." He says, eyes downcast as his brothers look at him with pity.

"Well then, since that is sorted, we will be on our way." Anthony makes for the door once again, Benedict hot on his heels. Leaving Colin on the settee, heart palpitations and all.

---The Modiste---

Penelope had been standing on the platform for nearly an hour as Genevieve took her measurements and held up fabrics to assess next to Penelope's skin tone. "Gen, might we take a break? I am feel rather downtrodden and tired." Penelope yawns. "Of course my dear, why don't you go to the back room and have a rest, and I will gather my supplies so we can discuss new cuts and laces, yes?" Gen says sweetly as she gathers the mountain of cloth. As Penelope makes her way to the back room, she hears the bell toll on the door to the Modiste's shop, then followed by the familiar mish-mash of female Bridgerton voices. Panicking, Penelope draws the curtain to the back room as quickly as she can and seats herself near a back shelf.

"Mama" Eloise whines, " I do not need any more overcoats! I am more overcoat than woman at this rate! Can I not simply sit and read my book?" Penelope smiles to herself, leave it to Eloise to consider a day at the Modiste worse than torture. "Eloise, don't be difficult. I need us to do this now, so we are prepared for the colder weather when we leave for Aubrey Hall at the end of the season. Now, get on the Platform, you're first." Violet's firm tone brooked no argument, as Penelope hears Eloise's complaining under her breath all the way to the platform.

As time goes on, Penelope manages to tune out the sound of the bickering Bridgertons, having found a book on a nearby shelf to peruse while Gen was busy. Just as Penelope was getting to a good part, she hears the bells of Gen's door chime once again. And then, like nails on a chalkboard, the grating voice of none other than Cressida Cowper.

"Well, my oh my! If it isn't Miss Eloise Bridgerton." Cressida purrs in a venomous sing-song. Penelope's blood runs cold. How is it possible for Cressida to strike such fear into her, when she isn't even the sole target at the moment? "Ah, Cressida, charmed as always. I see you have made it to Modiste without getting lost or distracted by shiny objects on your way, good job!" Eloise retorts, and Penelope must hold her hand to her mouth to stifle her laugh. The merriment is short lived though, as Cressida sinks her claws in. "Very funny, Eloise. Tell me, where is your pudgy little sidekick today? I must say, it is much easier to make my way around when I am not being blinded by an over-ripened lemon." Penelope can practically hear the sneer on Cressida's face. Good old Cressida, managing to hurt Penelope when Penelope is technically not even there. Just and Penelope is about to let one angry tear fall, she hears Violet clear her throat. "Cressida, I urge you to use some tact when you speak of anyone I hold in high esteem. Penelope is wonderful young woman, and I feel you could learn a few things from her." Violet finishes tactfully. "Yeah, like learning how to read." Eloise adds, causing Penelope to snort into her arm, tears forgotten.

"How dare you, you rotten-" Cressida is cut off by the sound of Eloise's hard steps off of the platform, "No, I am done Cressida. All of our lives, you have done nothing but belittle, demean, and insult Penelope, all while trying to weasel your way into a friendship with me and make my family name your meal ticket. You are a desperate, deluded, deplorable person. You will never understand what it is like to have a meaningful friendship with me, not the friendship I have with Penelope. So kindly, take your ridiculous bow and leave." Eloise huffs, finishing her tirade and holding the door open for Cressida, who stalks away muttering curses under her breath. "Sorry mother, I know that wasn't the kindest way to deal with Cressida, but I am so tired of her meanness and-" "hush, Eloise" Violet interrupts her rambling daughter, embracing her tightly. "I am proud of you. She deserved every bit of that. Penelope is a good girl, and Cressida has been so unkind. I am happy to see you defend a friend."

As the women gather their things and leave the shop, Penelope cannot help the tears that fall in earnest. She misses Eloise so dearly, and she has never had anyone stand up for her the way her estranged best friend just did. Hope blooms within her chest as she steps back out into the fitting room. "Gen?" Penelope calls out into the shop, seeing her friend's brown curls as she is shoving supplies back into a low cupboard. "Oh my goodness Penelope, I am so sorry!" She moves around the room like a whirlwind, flustered after the tense display between the two young girls. "I did not expect the Bridgertons today, and especially not Miss Cowper. Shall we have a drink upstairs ? I believe that is enough excitement for me today." Gen smiles. "Yes, that would be lovely. I am quite parched!" Penelope giggles, following her friend upstairs.

---Mondriches, Evening---

"And all of this to say, there is a reason I no longer associate with Brunette woman named Dolores" Fife bellows, followed by raucous laughter from the other gentlemen at the table, save for Colin. Fife, ever the observant fellow, notes Colin's quiet demeanor. "What's eating you this evening, Bridgerton?" Fife laughs, though Colin is not quite sure what could be so funny. "I don't know what you mean, Fife. Am I not the picture of joy?" Colin says flatly taking another sip of his drink. Fife, mildly taken aback by the stoicism, regroups and cocks an eyebrow. "What's the matter Bridgerton, no women tickling your fancy lately? The brothels don't seem to be hitting the spot?" Fife sneers. Suddenly feeling as if he is being interrogated, Colin inches his chair way from the table, excusing himself. "Men, I believe I will be retiring for the evening. Early day tomorrow." Fife slaps a hand on his shoulde, "Oh come off it Bridgerton, we are only jesting. I am sure your time has been taken up with a certain redhead as of late and you just have not had time for the ladies of the night, yes?" If there was one thing Reginald Fife knew how to do, it was push buttons. And Colin's were sufficiently pushed.

"Fife, you know not of what you speak. And I should hope you are not implying anything about a dear friend of my family." Colin says, looking Fife dead in the eye. "Oh, I don't need to imply anything though, do I? From what I hear, she's offering glimpses of her goods under willow trees to any sad sap willing to-" Fife is cut off by the sound of Colin's fist connecting with his nose. Gasping, Fife falls to the ground, holding his now bleeding nose. Colin leans in close to the man, voice low and deadly. "Do not ever, in any instance, think you are good enough or big enough to disparage a young woman in my presence. I will ensure that you have no tongue to speak with, should I catch wind of this again, do you understand me, Reginald?" Not caring for a response, Colin turns to walk away, but is stopped when he hears Fife mutter. "Interesting words from a hypocrite." Colin chooses to walk away this time, knowing deep within himself that Fife was correct about one thing this evening.

---Genevieve Delacroix's Flat---

"So Pen," Gen giggles as she pours Penelope another glass of wine. "Tell me, did you really want to pursue this Lord Kildare?" She finishes, eyebrows raised in question. Penelope swirls the red liquid in her glass, chin resting in her hand with her hair down from it's constricting updo. Penelope loved these moments with Gen, where she could be free, with a wine-stained mouth spouting off curses. "No," She replies after a moment, "I guess I just wanted to know that I could speak to a man without faltering. Without feeling like I was not worthy of speaking to a titled, handsome face. " Penelope finished somewhat shyly. Gen smiled softly at her, placing her hand over Penelope's and squeezing. "Penelope my dear, you are worthy of every star in the sky. Any man who does not see your beauty is a blind fool, you mustn't judge your worth on their opinions." Penelope's eyes fill with tears, unsure how to handle the sincerity of her friend's words. With the alcohol in her system, and the trust of a true friend, Penelope feels the confidence to ask her next question surge through her.

"Gen, I need you to tell me some hard truths. About, certain things..." Penelope trails off, her confidence slightly waning now that she is looking her friend in the eye. "You are a bit older than me, more experienced, and I trust you to be honest. Can you tell me what happens in a marriage bed?" Gen looks taken aback for a moment, simply looking at Penelope, eyes wide and mouth agape. Just as Penelope is about to take it back and withdraw into herself, as she always does, Gen laughs. A side-splitting, doubled-over, eye watering laugh. Penelope is offended momentarily, until Gen takes her hand again and sobers herself. "Penelope my dear, I thought you'd never ask!" Gen smiles, and Penelope cannot help her bewildered laugh in response. "What do you mean, Gen?! You knew I was curious?!" Penelope flushes. Gen calms a bit at that, and looks at Penelope in earnest. "Penelope, there is not one young woman of the Ton and beyond that is not curious about these things. You are completely normal, and your mothers should be talking to you candidly about these things. It is not fair that the pleasures of life are reserved only for men. And also, I am that much older than you." She fixes Penelope with a glare, but then breaks it with another giggle. Penelope is in awe of the woman in front of her, but quickly gets back to the matter at hand. "Thank you Gen. Now, tell me what I need to know."

After two more hours, and several glasses of cold, sobering, water, Gen has drawn diagrams, illustrations, and explained in every minute detail the mechanics of pleasure between and man and a woman. Penelope is completely overwhelmed, and a bit confused by the feelings this topic stirs within her. How a is a man meant to do these things with her? How is she meant to let him? Perhaps it is the shame she was raised to familiarize herself with, or her feelings regarding her own body, but Penelope feels rather exposed by all of this. But, also, there is that part of her that cannot help but feel her heartbeat quicken and her blood pulse a little more through her veins at the pictures Gen drew of a man's, well....organ, as she called it. She also took Penelope through a vocabulary lesson on what certain body parts were referred to during the act. Penelope does not think she has ever been so red in her life, or so keyed up. "Are you ok? Is this all a bit too much for your first lesson in Sex?" Gen asks genuinely. Good Lord, Penelope thinks, She cannot even hear the word "sex" without blushing? She has never felt like such a child, but for Gen's sake, she lies. "No, no, Gen. You have given me exactly what I asked for. I feel more prepared for this, I think. I should be going now though, the house is late and my mother will be quite cross with me if I am found sneaking back inside the house. Thank you, for everything." She hugs her uncertain looking friend, and makes her way out of the shop.

On her walk, she is now hyper-aware of any footsteps or sounds around her. It is quite dark, and heaven forbid she run into a ne'er do-well or worse, Colin Bridgerton. As she walks, Penelope cannot help but let her mind wander to her lesson with Gen. To wonder what it would feel like to have a man want you so badly, that their anatomy bends to your will. And, damn it all to hell, her wine-soaked brain cannot help but wonder what it would be like if it had been her and Colin drawn into those lewd sketches. Perhaps they would have crossed paths this evening, and had another row in the carriage, but this time, instead of using words to make their cuts, their anger was channeled physically. Perhaps Colin would not be able to control himself, ripping off her gown and feasting on her chest like a madman. Perhaps Penelope would finally know what it was like to feel him, her fingers running through his hair as she arched into him, begging for more. Penelope is pulled out of her fantasy by the sound of yelling, turning to see a group of gentleman being kicked out of the local club, yelling curses and throwing their bottles to the ground. Choosing to mind her business, Penelope marches on.

---COLIN---

Hearing the enraged screams behind him of Fife and his lackeys, Colin makes his way down the cobbled street, turning the corner as their voices faded out. As it stands, punching Reginald Fife in his stupid nose is one of the more effective ways Colin has been able to channel his inner turmoil. In fact, Colin feels a lightness in his step that has been hard to come by in recent weeks as he inches closer to Bridgerton House. Unfortunately, the pep in his step is soon replaced by the pounding of blood in his ears as his eyes glance over to the other side of the street, seeing a familiarly short-statured figure sneaking into the Featherington gardens. Like a moth drawn to a flame, he makes his way to her. Sliding through the gate before it latches, he comes up behind her and hisses. "What on God's Green Earth could possess you to continue parading yourself on the streets of Mayfair in the dead of night, Miss Featherington?" Penelope jumps and squeals as she turns to face him. Her fear soon turns to exhaustion as she rolls her eyes at him. "I seem to have this issue with a very tall, demanding, shadow man following my every move it would seem." Penelope retorts, but does not move away from him as she normally would. Stepping closer, Colin can smell the fermented fruit scent coming off of her. How is it a smell so offensive on others, can be so intoxicating on her. "You've been drinking again, I see" he says, eyeing the woman up and down. Penelope huffs, annoyed at the exchange already, "Yes, I had a few glasses of wine with a friend a few hours ago. I will have you know I sobered up plenty to make the journey home. Now, if you will excuse me-" She turns to leave him, as she has become accustomed to doing.

Before she can make her exit, Colin gently touches her shoulder, making Penelope pause. "Pen, please, can we talk? I have, much to apologize for. And I know you do not wish to hear it, but I just want a moment of your time." He begs, and he must truly look pitiful, because for the first time in weeks, he sees Penelope's features soften the slightest bit. "Fine, but I do not want to be out here long. My Mama will wonder." She says, and Colin cannot help the feeling of his heart launching into his throat. He did not expect the evening to turn out this way, nor did he ever expect Penelope to entertain him again. Following her lead, they seat themselves on a stone bench in the garden. Silence envelopes them as Penelope looks at Colin expectantly, but he is far too distracted by the way the moonlight shines on her skin, her lips a devastating shade in this light. Realizing Penelope has begun tapping her foot impatiently, Colin comes back to earth. "Pen, I first want to say I had no intentions of ever discussing with you the fact that you harbored any tenderness for me." Penelope tenses, and he immediately feels her beginning to withdraw.

"Colin, I do not wish to discuss that with you, I told you-" "That you detest me, yes I recall." He finishes for her, not short, but his hurt at the remark laced into his voice. "and truly, I deserve that. I deserve worse, truly. But you must know, I only found out of these feelings just before I found out you were, well..." "Whistledown, Colin." Penelope finishes for him. "Say what you mean, you were told that I had fancied you like a stupid little fool, and then you could not reconcile the fact that the same moony-eyed lovergirl could be the most coveted author in all of Mayfair." Penelope spat the words out like knives from her throat, tears now falling. This was all going so wrong, Colin thought. Not knowing what to do next, he grabbed Penelope's hand. "I am not sure what to do, or where to go from here, Pen. And I am not speaking clearly enough to convey how sorry I am. I never meant to wield your feelings like a weapon, because I did not truly believe you felt that way and that Marina was simply telling tales." Penelope takes her hand out of his slowly. "Well Colin, out of all of Marina's lies, that was not one of them. I did have feelings for you."

The wind is knocked clean out of Colin's lungs by the admission, but before he can even process what was just revealed, Penelope is standing and dusting off her skirts. "I can see that you are truly sorry for what you said about my feelings, but it does not go unnoticed that you have yet to apologize for your ruthless behavior upon finding out that I was Whistledown. You cannot reconcile this." Colin feels himself growing angry again, standing to feel has some kind of grip on himself. "Penelope, It is not exactly the easiest information to come to terms with, you lied and you betrayed me and my family-" "TO PROTECT YOU" Penelope howls. "Everything I ever did was to keep you safe. Every single part of it. But now I wonder if any of it was even worth it. I no longer have you, I have a tenuous grasp on my friendship with Eloise at best, and I am a complete fucking mess." Penelope falls back down to the bench, defeated.

Silence passes over them as they both digest one another's words. "Well" Colin breaks the silence, "I cannot say that you have lost me, Pen. I wish very much to be your friend, to prove to you that I can try. I cannot promise that I can reconcile quickly that you are Whistledown, but I am willing to try. I would do anything, Pen. Just, let me back in. What will it take?" Colin pleads, feeling like a man possessed. Penelope is quiet for a while, gazing down at her feet, before finally raising her head to look colin square in the eye. "Would you.....would you kiss me?" She says so quietly, Colin almost believes he imagined it.

"What? You want me to....to kiss you" He questions, in a voice he doesn't recognize. Penelope wants him to kiss her? After everything? How did we get here? And why does it feel like the sky is falling inward? Does Colin Bridgerton want to kiss Penelope Featherington? Colin shakes his head, realizing he has been fantasizing about doing far more than kissing her. As he ponders this, he realizes Penelope is pulling away from him, her back now facing him as she walks away, "Forget I asked Colin, that was out of line and I am sorry, I just need some sleep and I will be fi-" She is cut off by Colin grabbing her hand, spinning her around, and crashing his lips into hers. The world as she knew it, imploded.

At first, Penelope is stiff and does not reciprocate the kiss, Colin knows it is because she is caught off guard. Pulling back and resting his forehead on hers, he chuckles, "A Kiss is for two People, Pen." He says, and Penelope seems to come back into her body. As Colin thinks she is going to shove him away, he is stunned when she grabs the lapels of his coat and returns his kiss with fervor. Colin moans into her mouth, with Penelope turning the sound into his, their lips slot together perfectly, as if they have done this in every lifetime. Colin, never breaking the kiss, walks Penelope backward toward one of the pillars, gently pressing her back into it as his fingers lace through her hair. Penelope moans and whimpers into the kiss, giving Colin and opportunity to slide his tongue into her mouth as she gasps at the intrusion. As if a professional, Penelope immediately grazes his tongue with hers, pressing herself further into him and feeling a hardness push into her stomach.

As they pull away from one another to catch their breath, Penelope does not meet Colin's lust-blown pupils. She steps back from Colin, still looking down.

"Pen, I..." Colin trails off, still trying to catch his breath.

"Thank you." Penelope says, as she turns on her heel running into the Featherington House and leaving a stunned Colin Bridgerton in her garden.

Colin cannot make sense of his thoughts or Penelope's sudden departure, but he knows two things for certain. 1.) He did not like being thanked for the best kiss of his entire god damn life, and 2.) He was completely, irrevocably, painfully, and deliriously in love with Penelope Featherington.

Chapter Text

Penelope Featherington awoke the next day with a headache, a dry mouth, and a wounded heart. "How could I have been so stupid?" She mutters as she drags herself out of bed, her body feeling as if it's been mixed with cement. Walking to her mirror, she assesses the damage from last night. Her hair mussed, still in her cloak, with her lips red and swollen, a consequence of her stolen intimacies with Colin Bridgerton. With a groan, Penelope calls for her maid, Rae.

Entering the room somewhat apprehensively, Rae closes the door behind her with a soft click and makes her way over to her disheveled friend. "My goodness Miss, you look as if you haven't slept in days!" Rae exclaims, immediately tending to the rat's nest on Penelope's head. "Rae, I know that I can trust you enough to tell you, I did sneak off to see Gen in the night." Penelope sheepishly looks at her maid in the mirror, who is already adorning a knowing smirk. "Well, if you intended to fool me, I may suggest far more discretion next time" the girl smiles but sharpens her glare. "For if it had not been myself who came to check on you in the night and had seen your bed empty, it could have been your Mother." Penelope worries her bottom lip and offers a muttered "I know" in response to Rae. "I simply needed to get some air and some insight from a friend. Nothing more, and I returned perfectly safe and unharmed." Penelope offers half-heartedly. Rae simply nods and continues tending to Penelope's hair.

Once she has been sorted and dressed, Penelope makes her way downstairs. As she makes her way into the drawing room, she is startled to find a bouquet of at least 200 roses on the table, so large it is obstructing the view of whoever is sitting on the settee. "Penelope Dear!" Her mother trills, making her way to her daughter with a card in her hands. "This lovely bouquet was delivered this morning, along with a card." Portia has a glint in her eye as she hands Penelope the envelope that Penelope is not sure she likes. as expected, Penelope finds that the envelope has already been ripped open. "Mama!" Penelope exclaims "You shouldn't have opened this before I had a chance to read it!" She hurriedly walks over to the settee and has a seat, pulling the card from it's envelope as Portia trails behind her. "Penelope don't be daft. it was merely an accident! I thought it was for me." Portia smiles with faux sweetness. Penelope rolls her eyes and looks down at the card, immediately recognizing the penmanship.

"Pen,

I must ask you to accept my deepest apologies for any untoward behavior. I know not what came over me, but I do know that I care for you. I would never want to put you in a precarious position, and I ask- no, beg, for your forgiveness. It seems I am asking that of you so often, but from here on I will do everything I can to earn back your favor. If you would be agreeable, I should like to call on you tomorrow.

Be Well, Pen.

Affectionately,

Colin"

Penelope's breath is stolen from her lungs as she folds the card back into the envelope and looks over to the egregious amount of roses. This is too much. The roses, the letter, the desperation of his words, the kiss. She cannot bear this anymore. Colin Bridgerton does not love Penelope Featherington, he is merely a man of principles and honor. He is doing what he thinks is right, because he regrets ever kissing her. Penelope stands before her tears can fall and goes back up to her room. How had things become even more complicated? Why must her heart still call to this man, when he has proven over and over again how little he truly wants her? Penelope never should have asked for that kiss, she thinks. What a fatal mistake for her battered heart. The only way for Penelope to survive this, is to see the kiss for all it was, a goodbye.

Penelope must say goodbye to her fantasy of Colin Bridgerton finally seeing her, loving her, and choosing her. He knew about her feelings for him, and it still was not enough. It was done, over. Time to move on. Penelope Featherington, in time, could tolerate Colin Bridgerton, perhaps even rebuild some kind of friendship. But she knew now that, as long as she lives, there will never be a romantic future for Penelope Featherington and Colin Bridgerton.

---Bridgerton House, Three Days Later---

Colin Bridgerton is the stupidest man to ever walk on two feet. A deranged beast of a man, with no impulse control. He tosses and turns as the morning light filters into his bed chamber, having not slept a wink. The feelings that his kiss with Penelope in the dark of the garden have consumed him entirely, his brain unable to think anything other than "Penelopepenelopepenelopepenelopebreastbreastspenelope." Colin was no stranger to kisses, even stolen kisses in the dark of night, but what he shared with Penelope was the epitome of passion. And he had not a clue what to do with it. Rising from his bed, his body feels as if it has been mixed with cement, dragging himself to his wardrobe. Once Colin staggered his way back to his bedchamber following yet another attempt to meet with Penelope in the night, he fell into bed without so much as removing his boots or cravat. As he looks at himself in the mirror, he cannot help but think he looks like complete shit. Hollowed cheeks, dark circles, and an unshaven beard. This is what happens to a man when he discovers his feelings for his best friend, just for her to avoid him like the plague.

Colin has been forced to reflect on is choices, as his mind cannot focus on much else. How could he have ever believed himself in love with Marina Thompson? Sure, she was a very pretty girl, and at times quite funny. But what Colin shared with Marina never felt like this, an electricity that flowed through his blood and warmed him in a way he did not even know he was seeking desperately. With Penelope, it feels like an inevitable realization, as if he was meant to find her all along.

He is also finding it harder and harder to remember why he was so damn angry about Whistledown. If anything, that anger is now directed at himself for the foolish words he said that night in the study. He knew Penelope was a steadfast and loyal friend, and he knew that she may have found him quite handsome, but he refused to believe at that time that it could be true that she loved him. Why would she? A third born son with no purpose, nothing to offer other than a clever barb from time to time, forever the comedic relief. He had said what he did that night, about her having a childish crush, because he wanted to hurt her with something empty enough to not leave a scar. Little did he know, he cut Penelope much deeper than anyone else had. The regret was eating him alive, and he could not comprehend how Penelope had carried her feelings for him for so long whilst he cannot bear a single day more without her.

As Colin throws a shirt over his shoulders, a soft rapping at his door echoes. "Come in" He says, making his way to his desk to find suitable cufflinks to impress his intended. "Hello Dearest" Violet smiles softly in greeting, "I had hoped to see you this morning to break our fasts together, but you seemed to need a lie-in. How are you faring?" Violet rests a hand on her third-born's shoulder. Colin takes a deep, steadying breath, finally meeting his mother's gaze. "I am not doing quite as well as I would like to be, Mother. I need to see Pen." He says, dejected and forcing down the lump in his throat that his mother effortlessly draws from him every time. "Well, perhaps you should call on her today. You know, when the sun is high in the sky, and not in the dead of night." She raises an eyebrow, which Colin can only sheepishly smile at. "So you have seen my attempts as of late?" He chuckles humorlessly.

Violet takes a moment to look at her son, and truly take in his dire state before responding. "Dearest, I say this with immense love and care, you are being an absolute knob about this." Colin is taken aback, his head snapping up to meet his mother's knowing smirk. "Mother, please, I-" Violet raises a hand to silence Colin's rambling. "Perhaps you should think about the fact that you have sought out Penelope in the dead of night for days, rather than calling on her in the day as any respectable suitor would. You are treating her like a dirty little secret that must be kept in the dark." Colin looks away shamefully, knowing his mother is right. "What is wrong with me Mother? Why must I keep bungling all of my interactions with the woman I lo-care deeply for?" Colin catches himself, not quite ready to say the words aloud. Violet, however, is all knowing. "My dear, you must learn to be brave. You must have the courage to tell Penelope what is in your heart, and not just the rationale of your mind." Then, with a kiss on his forehead, Violet makes her exit, leaving her yearning son to figure the rest out on his own.

Once Colin was dressed adequately, he made his way into town and stopped in at Penelope's favorite chocolatier, florist, and bookshop. He had chosen the perfect, sweet-smelling bouquet, some delectable chocolate-covered strawberries (that he had to force himself not to devour) and a copy of a new novel he thought Pen may like. With his gifts in tow, he knocked on the door of Featherington House, with the door opening to reveal Varley, who strangely seemed startled by his arrival. "Hello Mister Bridgerton! To what do we owe this visit?" She asked, blushing. Colin shook off the incredibly odd feeling in his stomach and responded, "I am here to call on Miss Penelope, Varley. Would you mind allowing me in?" He adorns his face with his most charmingly crooked grin. Varley stands aside and allows him through the doorway. "You are here at a good time, Mister Bridgerton, as Miss Penelope is entertaining suitors as we speak." Varley walks ahead into the drawing room, while Colin freezes in place at her words. "Suitors?" He says allowed to the empty hallway, finally snapping back to reality and charging into the drawing room.

Startled by his abrupt entrance, Penelope jumps, as does her faceless suitor who has his back turned to the entry. "Co-Mister Bridgerton! I was not expecting to see you today!" Penelope says, an octave higher than her usual speaking voice. The mystery man finally turns around, taking in the somewhat flustered state of Colin, and fixes him with a glare. "Well hello Mister Bridgerton, what a pleasure. I am Lord Jackson DuMonde, a friend of Miss Featherington." The offending party reaches his hand out, to which Colin instead turns himself to face Penelope. "Pen, could we have a moment alone?" He begs, as Penelope's eyes become alight with fury. "I think that is entirely unnecessary Mister Bridgerton, now if you will excuse me I was speaking to Lord Du-" Penelope is cut off by a throat clearing, Lord DuMonde stepping toward the entry. "Actually, Miss Featherington, I must be on my way. My Mother is expecting me for tea, and I cannot let her down by being tardy. We will see each other tomorrow for a promenade, yes?" He asks, Penelope nodding in agreement while trying to tamper down her rage at the Bridgerton looming behind her like a Rottweiler. "Pleasure to meet you, again Mister Bridgerton." DuMonde tips his hat and walks away, as Colin clenches his jaw.

Once the door closes behind DuMonde, Penelope spins on her heel, jamming a finger into Colin's chest. "What the HELL was that about, Colin? Who do you think you are?" She yells, as Varley takes that as her cue to exit. They shan't need a chaperone for murdering one another, and what the currently absent Portia does not know will not hurt her. "Who do I think I AM?" Colin roars back, "I think I am the man that just stopped that LEACH from attempting to court you." As soon as Colin says the words, he wishes he could take them back. "and what, pray tell, would be so wrong with that, Colin? Does your ire fester so deeply that you feel I must be alone for the rest of my days? You do not even KNOW Lord DuMonde, he just arrived in the Ton not one week ago!" Colin has the good sense to look somewhat sheepish. "Pen, I apologize. I have forgotten myself. What I mean, is I worry abut you being courted by someone I do not know. How did you even meet this man?" Colin asks, attempting to be gentler.

"Well, I was not aware I needed your approval when it comes to the men I choose to let court me." Penelope sighs. "But, if you must know, I was introduced to Lord DuMonde by Lady Danbury. She is a dear friend of his mother, and when Lady Danbury was here for tea recently she had mentioned that we may be a good fit. Lord DuMonde is a Viscount, and he is very well-read." Penelope finishes, refusing to meet Colin's eye. Colin takes a seat next to Penelope on the settee, their knees brushing, he pretends not to notice Penelope's breath hitch at the contact, as she pretends not to notice his breath do the same.

"Pen, I am not saying that I am the authority on who you should marry. I just thought that, after what happened between us in the garden-" "No Colin," Penelope stops him mid-sentence, "We are not discussing that. It was a mistake, and I am sorry I ever put you in that position. You are not bound by any honor or oath, you can just pretend it did not happen. We will move on with our lives." Penelope hold her chin high as she says this, but her voice traitorously cracks on the last word. Colin flies out of his seat, now looming over Penelope, "Well what if I don't want to forget it, Penelope? What if it is the only thing I have been able to think about since the moment your lips met mine?" He says, voice rising with every word. Penelope flushes, but looks Colin dead in the eyes.

"Perhaps you should reconsider. Goodbye, Colin." And, before his heart can catch up to his brain and cement his feet to the ground until he can make Penelope understand, he flees, slamming the door on his way out.

Chapter Text

Colin Bridgerton was not a patient man. As a child, he often bit his nails down to the quick just whilst waiting for his breakfast to be served. This personality trait was endearing as a child, but as a grown man he has found he can be rather grating with his bouncing leg, nail biting, and hair-tousling ways. "Patience is a virtue, my dear boy" his late father had told him during his particularly raucous moments. One of which he remembers with such clarity, as it is the only time his father truly ever raised his voice with him. Daphne, 7 years old, and Colin, 8 and a half years old, had been taking turns with a kite that Benedict had brought home from one of his excursions. The two children had been playing together just fine, until Daphne had gotten caught up, running with the kite trailing behind her for a bit too long.

Colin, after asking Daphne to let him have his turn a few times, only to be ignored, had had enough and tripped Daphne on her next pass of him, causing her to fall and twist her ankle. Knowing he had made a major mistake, Colin took off on foot to get his Mother. Before they reached Daphne, Edmund had seen her on the ground, running to her from where he had been helping Anthony practice his fencing posture. Lifting Daphne into his arms and walking hastily toward the house, locking eyes with Colin on the way in. "SIT DOWN ON THE PORCH STEPS UNTIL I AM READY TO SPEAK TO YOU, BOY." Edmund bellowed, a sound so rare Colin immediately stiffened his spine and marched himself to the porch steps, teary-eyed from his father's stern tone.

After a few minutes of listening to Daphne wail from the inside of the house as the maids tended to her injury (found to be quite minor, but Daphne had as much of a flair for the dramatic as the rest of her siblings) Edmund finally made his way out to where his chastened son was sitting, head in his hands. "Son, we have talked about this-" Edmund started, but was immediately cut off my Colin's wail "I'M SO SORRY PAPA, I DIDN'T MEAN TO HURT HER, I WAS JUST SO MAD SHE WAS TAKING THE KITE ALL FOR HERSELF AND I-" Edmund placed his hand on his third son's shoulder to calm him down. "Colin, calm down, take a deep breath. I know you did not mean to hurt her son, you are excitable, but you are not cruel. Look me in the eyes, my boy." Colin tilted his head up toward his father, who was looking at him with nothing but care. "Sometimes, when we really want something, our excitement gets the better of us, as causes us to act out in ways we normally wouldn't. You are young, so it is expected. But what makes it unacceptable, is not learning how to temper it. We must work on this, yes?" He raises an eyebrow to his son, now breathing easier and his tears drying. Resolute, Colin looks his father in the eye, so similar to his own, "Yes father, I have learned that I cannot always be angry when things do not happen when I want them to. I'll never be angry about it again." Edmund laughs heartily at the determined face of his dear boy.

"Colin, you can be angry. We cannot control how we feel. What we can control, is how we react."

And now, as a grown man sitting in his bed chamber staring out of his window at Featherington House, his Father's words ring clearer in his mind than ever.

-----------------------------------------

"Mother, a moment please?" Colin beckons to Lady Bridgerton as he sees her fussing with Hyacinth's skirts, which are now worse for wear after a tussle with Gregory over a scone. Flustered, Violet turns to her son to ask him to wait, but once she sees the state of him, she goes to his side. "Darling, you look like you have not slept a wink. What is wrong?" She asks, smoothing his hair down as Colin fights the urge to wince. "Mother, I need some advice on how best to show a genteel woman that I wish to court her, when I have already completely vexed her." Colin says, ignoring the sharp gasp from Hyacinth across the room who was definitely NOT eavesdropping.

Shooting a pointed look to her youngest daughter that brooked no argument, Violet ushered Hyacinth out of the room and ensured a maid was able to hastily distract the young woman as she took in her third son. Disheveled, cravat loose, hair a nest, and eyes so sunken in she feared they may disappear from his skull completely. "Come sit, Dearest." She says as she ushers Colin to the settee. "Would this happen to have something to do with the enormous bouquet I saw being delivered to Featherington House recently?" Violet cocks a knowing eyebrow as Colin smiles sheepishly. "I am that obvious, it seems. Mother, I am ashamed to say it took Penelope pulling away from me to realize I simply cannot live without her. She is everything I see my future being, and I am loathe to admit my impatience is becoming an ache that is nearly physical. It is agony to know that she loved me for so long, and I am only seeing it, truly seeing it, now." Colin looks away, dejected.

"Oh, my sweet boy. You have so much learning to do before you can truly be ready for an enduring love story with Penelope." Violet sighs, sad at the state of her son's relationship with Penelope. "Colin, before you can go to her and claim yourself to be a man who is truly in love with her, you MUST try to understand the inner workings of her role as Whistledown." Colin stands, ready to argue, only to stop short realizing his mother is right. Did he ever truly listen to what Penelope had to say as Whistledown, with the knowledge that it was Penelope who wielded the quill? Truthfully, Colin did not read Whistledown nearly as much as the rest of his family. He liked to say that he was above frivolous gossip, cringing when he realized he said these things in front of Penelope herself many times, but truly it was because he felt exposed when he read the sheet.

The times that Whistledown did write about Colin, he found himself being flayed open by her analysis of his character, even when the words were few. She wrote of his charm, but something in her words made him feel as if she herself knew it was a facade. He also found himself confused more often than not, as her words were an expose of his softest parts, whilst defending his character when scandal befell him. Now, though, it made sense. Penelope wanted to protect him, but the tenderness bled through. He felt so utterly perceived, because the sheet was written by the woman who truly knew him better than most.

Beneath all of this, though, there was a nagging feeling that Colin could not ignore. "Mother, I am coming to understand why she did these things the way she did. But there is something so much deeper in my pain, that I am struggle to comprehend. I don't know why, but when I see everything Penelope has done as Whistledown, I want to be proud of her. But something holds me back from allowing myself to feel that way." He pathetically drops his head to his hands yet again. Violet is quiet for a long moment, so long that Colin, faced away from her, almost thinks she left the room, until finally he feels a hand on his shoulder. "Dearest, I am going to say something, and I would hope you take this and truly ruminate on it without being offended or obstinate. Is it possible that this feeling could be......jealousy?"

Colin feels it again, the same feeling that Whistledown evoked when his name stained her pages. Utterly exposed. Colin Bridgerton was jealous of Penelope Featherington.

--------Featherington House, Afternoon----------

"Mama, there is no reason to be so crass." Penelope huffed, sitting on her bed as her mother fussed over her wardrobe. "Penelope, I am not being crass. I am merely showing appreciation for your new wardrobe in the best way I know how, and I truly do believe that the light blue day dress makes your rear end look rather becoming. I am envious, I never was blessed in that regard, thought I suppose my bosom did make up for it in the end." Portia replies haughtily. It had been two weeks of utter nonsense from her mother, who has changed her tune on Penelope's new wardrobe and, seemingly, Penelope herself.

Penelope did feel rather guilty, as her mother was trying to treat Penelope with more kindness and less judgement. But Penelope was so tired of the posturing she was witnessing her mother attempt when it came to Penelope's suitor, Lord DuMonde. The Lord had been calling on Penelope often, always bringing gifts for both her and her Mother. A golden frame one day, a beautiful sapphire necklace the next. Every time Lord DuMonde showed up to the Featherington doorstep with a shiny new trinket, Portia nearly swooned, and Penelope nearly fell over from the force with which she rolled her eyes. She knows her mother is just excited that Penelope, once doomed to spinsterhood has a prospect. The only issue is, Penelope is not so taken with Lord DuMonde.

Lord DuMonde is, of course, a perfect gentleman. He calls at the appropriate hours, he is a stern follower of what society decides is polite and honorable, and he is extremely courteous. Penelope could be proud to call him a husband, if only he wasn't so incredibly sensible and boring. Penelope herself knows she is not necessarily wild, but she knows she is certainly daring. One cannot be Lady Whistledown without bending the rules, of course. That is another issue in and of itself, for Penelope has not written as Lady Whistledown in nearly a week. Between Lord DuMonde demanding so much of her time at all social events to talk about nothing and have lackluster dances at balls, and her mother hovering endlessly to ensure Penelope is "maintaining her newfound charisma," Penelope has not been able to gather a single shred of gossip, rendering her a bit irritable.

As Penelope groans on her bed whilst her mother rages through her closet to find something "fitting of the Future Lady DuMonde" Varley enters the room holding a cream envelope, handing it off to Portia. "From Bridgerton house, My Lady." Varley says, floating out of the room with a smirk. Penelope sits bolt upright as her mother tears open the missive. "Ah, I see." Portia says with a knowing grin. "What is it?" Penelope asks a bit too forcefully, causing Portia to look up and arch a perfectly manicured eyebrow at her daughter. "The Bridgertons have asked us to join them this evening at Bridgerton House for a celebratory dinner. It would seem miss Francesca is engaged. " Penelope's stomach turns as she looks her mother in the eye. "I am not going. I need to catch up on my rest and-" Penelope is cut off by Portia tutting and wagging a finger at her youngest daughter. "No no Penelope, you will not be missing this. In fact, they have requested you bring along Lord DuMonde." Portia hands the letter to Penelope and leaves the room, giving her daughter a moment to herself.

"Dear God, this is not what a meant when I said I needed more gossip." Penelope says to no one before slamming a pillow against her face and shrieking.

Chapter Text

As Penelope readied herself for the evening's engagement at Bridgerton House, with the help of Rae, her nerves were palpable. Her head was a vortex of apprehension and panic at facing Colin and his entire family, though she felt the grip of anxiety toward Eloise beginning to loosen bit by bit. As Rae applied rouge to Penelope's cheeks, and a balm to her lips, she took peace in the armor that her primping provided her. Now that Penelope was harnessing her own desires in terms of her physical appearance, she felt steadier when readying for social evens in the Ton. Of course, her insecurities were not gone, she in fact feared they may never be fully vanquished from her psyche, but she did feel as thought womanhood was finally bleeding it's way into her every move.

"You are truly shining, Miss." Rae smiles as she checks that the curling wand had cooled from being placed in the fireplace, before winding a strand of Penelope's shining red curls around the barrel. Penelope smiles at Rae in the mirror, shaking her head slightly, "Thank you Rae, I cannot help but feel ill at ease though. How am I to get through this dinner knowing that Colin is chomping at the bit to give me a piece of his mind after everything? How can I ever face the Bridgertons?" Rae looks at Penelope sadly, casting her eyes downward and she works the wand through her Miss' hair before responding. "Miss, forgive me for being too forward, but have you considered that he could be telling the truth? I did not intend to eavesdrop on your conversation in the drawing room, but..." The maid trailed off, refusing to meet Penelope's eye when her head shot up to look at Rae in the mirror again. "Rae, what can you mean? You know as well as I do that Mr. Bridgerton can be rather impulsive. He simply feels the need to protect me because we lost our faculties in the garden-" Realizing her slip up, she turns to face Rae fully who is smirking at the girl.

"You need not worry about that, Miss. Your secrets will always be safe with me, though you are not as discreet as you think you are." Penelope turns away sheepishly, the reddening of her cheeks going beyond what the rogue is responsible for. Rae continues, now emboldened, "Miss, I think that you give yourself far too little credit for what an eligible young woman you are. You are beautiful, brilliant, and truly a pleasure to be around in any circumstance. Mr. Bridgerton may not be as quick on the uptake, but I do believe he is there now. And for all that is good and holy, and much more interesting companion than Lord DuMonde." Penelope cannot help the decidedly un-ladylike snort that leave her at that. "I suppose you are correct about one thing Rae, Lord DuMonde is quite a bore. I do not understand why I must bring him to the dinner, but I suppose this will be a good enough buffer between myself and Colin."

She could only hope.

-------------------------

"Anthony dear, could you please assist me with something in the study? I should like to ensure all is prepared for our guests this evening." Violet smiles as she guides her eldest from his conversation with his wife. "Yes Mother, but I do not know how we could be more prepared for-" Anthony's thought is cut short by the slamming of the study door. "What on earth has gotten into you?" He asks, confused by his mother's less than rosy temperament. Violet fixes her son with a glare and points to the setee. "Have a seat, we need to discuss how you will be carrying yourself this evening." Antony takes his seat, knowing that it is better to acquiesce than make his mother cross. "I understand mother, there are still some hurt feelings over my behavior toward Miss Featherington. Please rest assured, I am terribly regretful of what happened in this very study and have made that clear to Penelope. I look forward to having her, as well as the rest of the Featheringtons, here this evening." Violet offers him a thin smile, nodding along to his placations, but the glint of insecurity in her eye tells Anthony that there is something he is missing. "Anthony, I know you think I am far too busy marrying all of you off and matchmaking to know the goings on of this household, but trust I am far more astute than you give me credit for." With this, Anthony raises an eyebrow.

"Whatever could you mean, mother? I have ensured you are told of all ledger adjustments, staffing issues, and-" Violet raises a hand to stop Anthony in his tracks. "Dear boy, I am not referring to the daily tasks you must complete and the ledgers you maintain. I am very aware that you and Benedict had a rather......direct...discussion with the Queen's Solicitor regarding the Featherington's financial standings. I am only looking for confirmation that the conversation went well, and information of our dear Penelope's involvement in keeping their family afloat with her hard-earned funds is kept well guarded. At this, Anthony sighs, defeated. "Goodness Mother, we simply cannot get anything past you. Yes, it went as well as we could have hoped. I do worry, however, that Penelope's enterprise will eventually be uncovered by the wrong person. Perhaps this is a discussion we could have with her personally when she is more amenable." Violet is quiet for a long moment, before standing and heading or the door. Before turning the knob, she looks over her shoulder at her son. "IF, Anthony. If she is amenable."

-----------------------------

That evening, Penelope is sitting in a cramped carriage with her mother and sisters, an absurd notion when Bridgerton House is merely across the square, but Portia Featherington would rather keel over than arrive to an engagement on foot. "We are not commoners, girls. We arrive in a carriage dressed in our very best." She huffed as the carriage hit a particularly hard bump. Penelope simply rolled her eyes as she took in the view of the street from her window. All too soon, the carriage came to a stop, an the footman opened the door to let them out. Penelope had been fighting her nerves all day, and now that she was faced with the grand manor of the Bridgertons. As she stepped down from the carriage, she realizes Lord DuMonde's carriage is already stationed in front of them in front of the home, the man himself stepping out and locking eyes with Penelope Immediately, to which she smiles shyly, trying to ignore the lump in her throat.

" Miss Featherington, I must say, you look breathtaking this evening. I do so enjoy you in Lavender." Lord DuMonde greeted as he bowed. Penelope flushed as he took her hand. "Why thank you Lord DuMonde, shall we go inside?" Penelope said in a voice she barely recognized as her own, hollow. As the group makes their way to the door, the Bridgerton's doorman is already opening it in greeting. "Welcome! Please do come in, Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton will be with you momentarily" He says, guiding them to the sitting room. Penelope takes in the comforting sight of the Bridgerton's home, so familiar it causes her heart to ache with longing. As they make themselves comfortable they hear clattering from the hallway, the door flying open to reveal Hyacinth and Gregory Bridgerton running full throttle to Penelope. "PEN! IT'S REALLY PEN!" Hyacinth yelps, throwing her arms around Penelope's neck as Gregory loses his adrenaline and shyly waves to Pen. Penelope laughs, hugging Hyacinth back, when she hears a throat clear and an all-too familiar voice. "Hyacinth, I do not believe Penelope can breathe." Colin scolds lightheartedly as Hyacinth unwinds her arms from Penelope's neck that she was, truly, choking. Penelope would never say a word though.

"I missed you so much, Pen! Can we please play a game of cards while you are here? Nobody can keep up with me like you, please?" Hyacinth begs as Penelope giggles. "Perhaps, Hyacinth. Let us see where the evening takes us, yes?" The youngest Bridgerton positively beams at this, skipping away to her next greetings. Turning to Colin, Penelope musters what little strength she has left after the anxiety of the day to look him in the eyes. The kindest eyes. "Hello Mister Bridgerton, you look well." Penelope bows in greeting. Something passes over Colin's face she cannot quite place, but he quickly collects himself. "Hello Pen, you look lovely this evening." He smiles, turning to Lord DuMonde, "DuMonde, we meet again. Thank you for coming this evening." He held his hand out, which DuMonde shakes firmly." I would not miss it, Mister Bridgerton. Miss Featherington has told me how......special....your family is to her." The two men seemed to be in some kind of non-verbal stand-off with their eye contact, and Penelope found this to be the opportune time to slip over to the other side of the room to greet Kate.

As the time passed, Penelope felt herself relaxing a bit more, chatting with Kate and finding her way to Eloise. While the tension was still palpable, Eloise was slowly thawing and their rapport was rebuilding bit by bit. The two friends had killed enough time with their small talk for Penelope to be a bit startled when Violet announced it was time to make their way to the dining hall for dinner. As Penelope made her way into the dining hall, she searched for her section at the table, only to realize she had been placed directly between Lord DuMonde and Colin. Groaning inwardly, she took her seat and attempted to find some kind of composure. As the two gentlemen settled themselves next to her Colin leaned over and whispered into her ear, brushing a golden red strand of hair over her shoulder, causing shivers to trail up her spine. "Could we speak later? Alone?" He asks, having no idea the chaos that was erupting within Penelope as she turned her head to him to whisper back "I do not think that would be the wisest decision." She did not dare look at him again for fear of seeing the hurt on his face. As dinner wore on, Penelope tried her very best to give Lord DuMonde as much attention as possible, but it was hard to do so when Colin was constantly brushing her leg with his own, reaching over her to grab a utensil. As Penelope tried to discuss the merits of ideal farming weather with Lord DuMonde, she knows the Lord can tell her attention is elsewhere, becoming more and more agitated as the dinner wears on.

"So Lord DuMonde," Anthony says from the head of the table, "What brings you to Mayfair this social season? Our dear family friend Lady Danbury says you are only here for a short time before heading off to the Americas." Penelope has known Anthony Bridgerton for a very long time, and she knows that this question is far more loaded than Lord DuMonde could possibly know. Shooting Anthony a knowing glare, she then turns her attention to Lord DuMonde. "Well, I cannot say I am in one place for more than a short time these days, with my work it is hard to truly call one place home. I am truly here in Mayfair to reconnect with old acquaintances and perhaps make new ones." Hey says, looking fondly at Penelope. "Well I think that is wonderful!" Portia offers in her shrill manor from across Lord DuMonde. Penelope knows the next question coming out of her mouth before her mother even says it, the sparkle in her eye making Penelope want to drown herself in her soup bowl. "Are you perhaps here to take a wife?" Portia asks, smiling like the cat who got the cream. "I don't think that's- Penelope starts but is promptly silenced by Lord DuMonde placing a hand on her shoulder. "It is okay Penelope, she is right after all. I am here to take a wife." DuMonde smiles, as some of the ladies at the table "oooh" and "aaaah." Penelope fears she may be sick. "In fact, I feel my options have narrowed quite drastically." He finishes, once again giving Penelope a level of eye contact that makes her feel pried open. Next to her, Penelope hears Colin coughing on his wine.

Recovering quickly, Colin clears his throat. "How will that work out for you Lord DuMonde, if you are to travel constantly? Are you merely looking for a wife to manage your affairs?" Colin inquires, a slight edge to his tone that does not go unnoticed by anyone at the table. "Well, My wife would travel with me at times of course. But I will need someone I trust to manage my affairs back home. Are you yourself not a traveler, Mr. Bridgerton? In fact, I have heard many stories at the gentleman's club of your exploits with one Contess-." DuMonde is abruptly interrupted by the sound of metal hitting porcelain as Colin slams his spoon down. "I am sure that it is indicative of your mentality" Colin explodes, "that I merely made mention of what is to come of your future wife on your travels, and your very first thought is to mention sexual proclivities in front of two fine, gently bred families, Lord Dumonde. There are children present, for Christ sake." At this Anthony stands, clapping his hands together once, "That will be enough! This is meant to be a peaceful, fun dinner, and whatever tension is brewing must be nipped in the bud immediately under my roof. Do you understand me brother, Lord DuMonde?" The Viscount explodes. Both men have the good sense to look somewhat shameful at the outburst, but Penelope has heard enough and stands to leave "I am not feeling well, I apologize. Mama, I will be taking the carriage home now and I will send it back here to collect you when you are ready. Violet, Anthony, Kate, thank you for hosting us and I apologize for, well, this." Penelope says as she collects her shawl and makes her way out the door to her carriage.

The tears she tried to keep at bay have made their escape as she walks toward the carriage and climbs in. "Stupid, stupid girl" she chastises herself as she rips the clips from her hair and removes her uncomfortable shoes, the carriage begins moving at she rests her head against the window, her soft sobs and the clacking of horse hooves the only sounds to be heard. Rehashing the evening and trying to plan what she will be telling Lord DuMonde to end their courtship, as the display this evening was the final push Penelope needed to know that Lord DuMonde would not be the man she married. She was humiliated and longed to scrub the memory of Violet's embarrassed face at Lord DuMonde's mention of Colin's sexual history from her mind. As the carriage makes it's way across the square, Penelope can hear the far away sound of footsteps coming closer and closer, before she realizes that the sound is someone running, she hears him. "STOP! STOP THE CARRIAGE!" Colin screams as he catches up to the carriage, ripping the door open like a mad man as Penelope looks at him, eyes wide in confusion. He makes his way inside, sitting across from Penelope and shutting the door behind him. Once he is sat, he pounds on the roof of the carriage three times, alerting the driver.

"Take the long way." He yells to the driver, locking eyes with Penelope.

Chapter Text

"I have no intention of speaking to you, Mr. Bridgerton." Penelope huffs, after getting her wits about her. How dare he? This absolutely infernal man simply cannot let her wallow in peace. "Well, Miss Featherington," he says, smirking at her seeming to have found his own wits as well, " that is quite fine by me, because I have plenty to say." Hey says, scooting forward on his bench so their knees just barely grazed one another's.

"What more could you possibly have to say, Colin?" Penelope argues dejectedly, too exhausted to keep up with the charade of calling him by anything other than his Christian name. "Have you not thoroughly chastised, humiliated, and vexed me? Is that it? Well, please do put the final nail in the coffin so I may be at rest, dammit!" Penelope yells, hoping Colin did not notice the break in her voice. A verbal manifestation of the dismantling of her heart. But of course, he softens. Of course he noticed, this exceedingly kind, yet arrogant man. Always noticing her when Penelope wants anything but to attract notice.

"Pen, please. Let me say what I need to before you make any more decisions that firmly oust me from your life. I am begging you, not as an arrogant, pompous, directionless oaf. As your friend, as the man whose heart has been breaking day by day the farther you distance yourself from me. Deservedly so, I know. But please, just hear me out. I promise to adhere to your terms, your wishes, no matter what they may be. If you grant me a bit of time to lay it all out on the line." Colin said it all so earnestly, with shining eyes. Who was she to say no?

"You have 5 minutes, Colin." She replies, the ache in her chest amalgamating into something she dare not recognize as hope.

------Bridgerton House-------

The families sat awkwardly around the table, not sure how to move forward after the sudden departures of Penelope and Colin. Anthony knew that the proper thing to do would be to send someone after Colin, who undoubtedly was after Penelope without a chaperone. But looking at his brother tonight, the state of him every time his eyes gazed upon Penelope and Lord DuMonde....Anthony knew what it was to yearn. He remembered the feelings that raged within him when he had Kate so close, yet just out of reach, and his own mistakes in the process. He simply could not let propriety dictate what he knew in his heart was right. Come what may, he wanted to see Colin and Penelope at their very best and happiest. He would just be lying if he said he did not prefer that they found that in one another.

"Well, I do apologize for my daughter's tactlessness! I assure you, fine Bridgertons, she did not inherit that from me. Shall we move on to the next course?" Portia chirps, swallowing the lump in her throat. She knew she was coming off as callous, perhaps even daft. But she also knew that, in this moment, her daughter could have everything she ever wanted with a bit of privacy. Even with her reservations and fear of being alone without Penelope in the house, she cannot get in the way of her daughter's happiness, her security. And, as loathe as she was to admit it, Lord DuMonde was simply too much of a bore for her Penelope.

"Perhaps the rest of you could get started with the roast? I would like to have a chat with Lord DuMonde, if he is amenable?" Anthony asks, standing and passing a discreet glance over to Benedict to advise that , too, would be part of this conversation. Lord DuMonde stands, looking uncomfortable as he bows to the rest of the table and makes his way over to the door where Anthony and Ben now stood waiting. "I shall take my leave after this conversation, but I do so appreciate the invite this evening. Shame it became so.....tense." Lord DuMonde chuckled lightly, as the rest of the table either politely smiled or grimaced.

As the men made their way into the study, Anthony walked over to his desk, pouring three glasses of brandy and taking a seat at his desk, reaching a hand out to instruct DuMonde to take a seat across from him. "Lord DuMonde, I do find it rather curious, your behavior this evening. I would imagine you would have wanted to impress the family of a woman you seem to be intent on proposing to, as well as a family that is nearly as close to her as blood kin. " Anthony asks, leaning back in his chair to seem more casual, which only made Lord DuMonde feel more intimidated. "Well Lord Bridgerton, I simply felt a bit cornered by the presence of Mr. Colin Bridgerton. A bit unmoored, if I am honest. It would seem he and Miss Featherington hold a bit of a flame for one another, does it not?" DuMonde asks with a raised brow, to which Anthony and Benedict simply smile sympathetically. "We are quite inclined to agree with you, Lord DuMonde" Benedict grins, "We know that their particular closeness can be a bit much for another suitor. But, that is to be expected from a bond that runs deeply from childhood."

The men are quiet for a moment before Lord DuMonde clears his throat. "Well gentlemen, I doubt you have brought me back here to discuss matters of the heart. You are men of action, business. I am well aware from Portia Featherington that Miss Penelope does not have a dowry. Is that what this is about?" Anthony and Benedict are taken aback by DuMonde's forward approach to a matter that the two eldest Bridgertons had quite literally not even thought about. "What could you mean? We have no stake in the Featherington girl's dowries. Granted, we adore Penelope and would do anything to ensure she is secure, I am rather lost on what you are insinuating." Anthony asks, sharing a confused look with Benedict. "Well, to be quite plain, I am curious if you are willing to foot the bill once I ask for her hand." Lord DuMonde says in a casual way that makes Anthony and Benedict's hackles rise. "How dare you-" Anthony roars before he feels a hand on his shoulder, Benedict rising to speak. "Lord DuMonde, are you implying that you wish for us to pay you for Penelope's hand? Because if that is the case, I do not think you have barked up the correct tree my squirrely friend. We adore that girl, and we have said before that we will ensure her security, but she is not cattle for you to merely take off of anyone's hands for a price." Benedict says with and edge that could cut glass.

Eyes wide, Lord DuMonde realizes he has overstepped gravely. "I did not mean to imply anything, I just thought, with the precarious situation the Featheringtons find themselves in, it would be-" Anthony cuts the man off with the slam of his glass onto the desk. "That will be enough, DuMonde. You have proven yourself to be a spineless, sniveling, coward on top of the already vexing crime of being an utter BORE. You have humiliated that young woman and scandalized two families this evening. I suggest you leave, immediately." Lord DuMonde rises, marching his way to the door while muttering about his carriage, before he is stopped by Benedict. "Oh, my Lord, we do not simply mean leaving Bridgerton House. You will leave Mayfair come first light of morning. Whatever business you had here is complete, and you will leave Penelope alone. Do you understand?" For a moment, DuMonde looked as if he may argue, but one glance over to the raging storm in Anthony's eyes told him to can it immediately. He made his way out of the study, not even making an effort to say goodbye to anyone else.

---------------

Penelope watched as Colin gathered the courage to say the words he begged her to hear. Even after everything, the tears, the anger, the insults, he was so beautiful. The way the firelight from passing streetlamps cast their orange glow on one side of his face, flickering and turning his hair the most delicious shade of chocolate. His eyes, completely taken over by his pupils, the denim blue swallowed by black. She would never be able to look at this man as anything other than the work of art he is. Penelope is pulled from her reveries as Colin begins to speak.

"I never loved Marina, Pen." Colin says, as Penelope his shaken. "What could you mean? You said yourself that I took away your chance for-" She is stalled by the press of a finger to her lips, Colin's gentle way of quieting her, curing herself for the electricity that one second of contact sent though her. "Please, allow me to say this before I am swallowed by cowardice." He begs, and Penelope nods, urging him to go on. "I know that I never loved her. When I spoke to Marina, it was always a performance to prove that I could be a man. I only ever wanted approval, and she seemingly gave me that without much effort. But I was empty, Pen. When I speak to you, when you look at me from across a ball room, I feel more whole in those stolen moments that I ever have with anyone else." Penelope flushes, but refuses to break eye contact. Swallowing, Colin continues, lowering himself to his knees before her, causing Pen to gasp every so gently at the sudden movement.

Brushing her hair back from her face, and then grasping her hands in his, Colin feels braver than he ever has a day in his life. "Penelope, every moment that I am away from you is agony. I know I am slower on the uptake, and I will never stop trying to earn back your favor for not seeing you sooner. But please believe and accept the love I am giving you here and now. I would turn myself inside out if it meant you could feel a portion of what I do, here, every time you so much as smile at me." Colin says, placing Penelope's hand against his chest, as she feels his rapidly beating heart. She tears her eyes away from him as Colin looks on, dismayed. "But Colin, I know that you cannot accept me as Whistledown, and she is everything to me. She has been my voice when I had none. She is power. I cannot possibly be asked to forsake that, no matter how much I love you, I cannot abandon who I am. Please do not ask that of me, I cannot bear it." Penelope sobs, knowing that she will be seen as a selfish shrew, turning down the man she aches for for her craft.

She feels Colin's hand lifting her chin, kissing the tears off of her cheeks as his thumb rubs gentle circles in their wake. "Penelope, you speak as if Whistledown is two people, but I know now that she IS who you are. You and Whistledown are one, and you should be proud of that. I admit, my anger was rooted is such misguided jealousy. I am ashamed to admit. " He looks way, embarassed to admit the crux of his anger. Penelope is reeling from the admission, but is now the one raising Colin's chin toward her. "Colin, no more shame. Not here, not tonight. I wish to....." She trails off. "What do you wish for, Pen? If it is not me, if it is best for me to leave this carriage now so that we can remain friends, if you cannot forgive my foolishness, I will do it." Penelope could cry at the uncertainty in his eyes. "Colin, I no longer wish to be friends." She says earnestly.

Colin tries to muffle the sound of his heart cracking by clearing his throat. "I understand, I will just get out here and we can-" He is stopped by the feeling of Penelope's small hands over his own. He looks up at her and is nearly rendered breathless at the look in her eyes. "Colin, I wish to be more. So much more." Before he can even comprehend what Penelope is saying, she pulls him down to her by the collar of his shirt, crashing their lips together in a bruising kiss. Their kisses are languid exploration as Penelope moans into his mouth. Colin can only groan in response as she weaves her hands through his hair. Penelope feels Colin's tongue begging for entry at the seam of her mouth, which she grants with much enthusiasm. She's never felt desire course through her quite like she feels right now, only magnified by the knowledge that the smooth, honeyed pleasure is paralleled within Colin. As their kisses grow hungrier, Colin breaks away from Penelope's mouth, to which Penelope let's out a petulant whine, quickly replaced by a moan when Colin's lips makes contact with her throat. Nipping his way across her collar bone and back up to the spot just below her ear, Colin revels in the low moans he can elicit from his love.

"Pen, you must tell me to stop if you do not wish to go any further" Colin begs as Penelope lift a leg and wraps it around Colin's waist, causing his already stiffened cock to nearly burst. Penelope leans up to Colin's ear to whisper hotly, "I wish you would never stop touching me, my love." As Colin merely stares at the vixen in front of him, Penelope grabs his hand from her thigh, placing it over her breast and squeezing through the fabric, moaning loudly. This snaps Colin out of his trance, and he quickly follows suit with his other hand, squeezing, kissing, and licking the tops of her breasts like a man starved. He works his hand up toward the sleeves of Penelope's dress, slowly pulling them down her shoulders. Realizing the confines of her dress would not allow for the sleeves to bring down the rest of her bodice, he pulls Penelope even closer as his fingers begin unlacing her corset just enough to loosen the bodice. Once he has unlaced enough, he slides the bodice down until her breasts are finally free and bare to him. Perfect, large, too large for even his hands to hold, with perfect pink nipples, hardened and begging for his attentions. "Colin, please, touch me." Penelope begs above him. He makes eye contact with her now lust-darked eyes as he gently flicks his tongue over one nipple, causing her back to arch and a delicious moan to tear from her with reckless abandon.

Seeing how much pleasure that first lick brought his sweet Penelope, he brings his mouth to her breast in earnest, sucking and licking with vigor as his fingers find the bud of her neglected breast and begin tweaking, pinching, and massaging while Penelope moans and writes above him. Penelope has never felt anything like this before, as if his ministrations on her breasts are connected directly to her core. She feels her desire building as she races toward something, feeling as if she is dying and coming to life all at once. She knows she needs more, but cannot imagine what more could possibly come when the feels Colin is eliciting from her are already so intensely pleasurable. Suddenly, she feels the absence of Colin's mouth on her breast as the cool air hit her now very wet peaks, and she looks down to see Colin slowly lifting her skirts while making scorching eye contact, as if asking for her consent without saying a word. Penelope merely nods, too far gone to form coherent words as Colin's hand finally makes contact with the spot she needs him most. She lets out a low whine as his fingers graze up her soaked seam, then running his fingers over the thatch of hair at her mound reverently.

Colin believes he has never felt anything softer or more inviting in his entire life as he passes his fingers through Penelope's wet cunt, collecting her slick and bringing it up to her clit, where he begins rubbing gentle circles. He nearly chuckles at the widening of Penelope's eyes, but soon all humor is gone as she lets out the most erotic, raspy moan he has ever heard in his life. Emboldened, he begins rubbing firmer circles on her clit and presses one finger into her cunt, pumping slowly as she becomes accustomed to the intrusion. Colin is so hard he has to free his member and begin pumping himself as he fucks her with his fingers, not wanting to come just yet but needing the relief. He begins to stroke his cock in time with his fingers thrusting into Penelope's heat. When he feel Penelope clenching, he makes a snap decision. He must taste her.

Pulling his fingers from her cunt, Penelope's eyes shoot open and look at him, confused. "Why on earth did you stop?" She whines, and Colin chuckles lightly. "Pen, I am going to try something I think you will enjoy. Do you trust me?" Colin says, looking more insecure than he was just a moment ago. Feeling a surge of unbridled affection for this man, Penelope kisses him fiercely. "With my life, Colin." Smiling, Colin slowly makes his way down, down down, until his head is under her skirts. Confused, Penelope leans down to question what on earth he is doing when she feels his tongue lick from her entrance up to her aching clit, and she loses the very breath in her lungs. Her hips buck at their own accord as Colin begins to devour her fully. Swirling his tongue over her clit just so, whilst pumping two fingers in and out of her. Looking down through her haze of lust, she can see just slightly that Colin's other hand is rapidly stroking his member. She must remember to ask him what to call it. That thought is quickly wiped from her mind when she repositions and can see him in full, the thick, hard length he is working over with his hand whilst he tongue lavishes her cunt. The sight of Colin pleasuring himself, whilst pleasure her, is almost too much to bear. giving in to the call of her body, Penelope begins to stroke her own nipples as Colin crooks his fingers inside of her, humming and sending vibrations through her cunt that send her over the edge.

Penelope's release triggers his own, the lovers coming in tandem, her screaming and panting and clenching on his fingers whilst his cum paints his abdomen as he groans. Penelope is the best thing he has ever tasted, and he cannot wait for a lifetime of making her break apart on his tongue, his fingers, and his cock. All in good time. coming down from their highs, Penelope is a sight. Breasts out, sucked red raw and heaving as she pants from the world-shattering orgasm colin just worked out of her. Colin is faring no better on the ground, wrapped around her knees as he catches his breath. As they finally make eye contact, they cannot help but break out into side-splitting laughter. This was them, this was love.

Amidst their pleasure, the lovers failed to realized that the carriage had stopped moving some time just before their spirited climaxes. A sharp pounding at the carriage door startles Penelope and Colin out of their post-orgasmic high. "Sir, we have arrived back at Featherington House. We circled at least 40 times, the horses are exhausted. Mortified, Penelope yelps out a quick apology, blushing fiercely as Colin cleans himself off with his cravat, then coming to Penelope to set her to rights. Smoothing her hair down, Colin places a gentle kiss on Penelope's lips. "Come now, my love, we have much to plan." Colin says, beaming as he steps down from the Carriage holding his hand out for Penelope. "Plan?" She says, dropping down gracelessly from the carriage. "But of course darling, we have a wedding to plan!" Colin's smiles only grows wider at her dumbfounded expression. "For goodness sakes, Penelope Featherington, are you going to marry me or not?" Colin says, plopping down onto one knee in the grass. Snapping out of her shocked daze, Penelope tackles him into the grass. "OF COURSE, YOU BLOODY FOOL!" She shrieks, giggling as Colin showers her face with kisses. "Well, it's quite well done of you to agree, having compromised me, and all." He smirks and Penelope gasps in faux outrage, giggling all the while.

Oh, how she loves this infernal man.