AMORE ET HONORE
By: tweety-src-clt9
Fears and Revelations
Colin was certain that the best thing he could do was keep calm, pray to the heavens, and wait. Whoever that bloody Theo Sharpe was, he could wait the entire day for all he cared! The most important thing was to call a doctor for Penelope so that she could open her gorgeous azure eyes once again.
Knowing that Dunwoody was always an efficient majordomo, he knew that he should prioritize getting himself and his wife some clothes first - and so, he did.
Finding the nightgown he grabbed from her trunk after their first night of passion, he carefully clothed his still fainted wife, the white cotton concealing the most important parts of her body that should only be bared to his gaze. After that, he hurriedly found a new pair of breeches and a white tunic for himself. He knew that he need not bother with all the layers of clothing a gentleman of his station is expected to don - after all, it was his bloody honeymoon, he was the master of the house, and more importantly, his wife was out of commission after a nasty bump to the head.
It was a testament to his new staff's efficiency, under Dunwoody's leadership, that a doctor came knocking on the door to their chambers barely an hour after his frantic awakening of finding his wife fainted on the carpeted floor.
Hurriedly opening the door, he greeted the doctor, a man who looked around ten years older than he was. The doctor's eyes held confidence, knowledge, and a plethora of experience. He couldn't help but sigh in relief. His Penelope would soon be brought to rights by this capable man.
"Greetings, Doctor - " Colin started to say.
"You may call me, Mr. Robertson or just simply Doctor, Mr. Bridgerton," the doctor introduced himself. Colin held out his hand which the doctor shook formally.
"I'm delighted and relieved that you are able to come here on such short notice," he said as he walked towards the bed where his beautiful Penelope laid unconscious.
"Can you share more details about what had happened to your bride? Mr. Dunwoody gave me a short telling of what had happened, she hit her head and lost consciousness. If you have more details that you believe I should be privy about though, please let me know. Anything that can help me understand the patient's condition would be very helpful indeed," the doctor expounded.
"I woke up to the sound of something hitting wood. I immediately stood from the bed and the first thing I saw was my wife unconscious with this nasty bump on her head. Prior to that, there was some startling scream which I knew was from my wife… Anyway, last night, she had a bit too much champagne so she fainted as well but it was rather brief and she regained her bearings after a nap in the carriage. I do believe that her hunger affected her tolerance to alcohol. I'm not sure if that helps, doctor, but that is all I can give you." Colin shared as much as he knew.
"I see… You mentioned hunger, can you explain more?" the doctor asked as he looked at Penelope's prone form.
"She mentioned that her mama didn't want her to eat anything on the day of our wedding so that she would not look bloated in her wedding dress. Her mother is a silly and vile woman for doing this to my wife… If I were honest with you doctor, I have this bad feeling in my chest about this hunger strike her cruel mother is so keen to impose. I fear that this may have gone on for longer, maybe during the entire week before our nuptials," he confessed.
"Thank you for sharing this with me, Mr. Bridgerton. I do have one more question though, and please do not hesitate to answer. As a doctor, I am to never disclose anything discussed here," the doctor said with a professional yet still gentle tone.
Colin could feel the strains of a blush threatening to form on his cheeks, ears, and neck. He had an inkling that the doctor would inquire about the many purple love marks he bestowed upon Penelope's smooth pale skin. Good god! This has got to be one the most embarrassing encounters of my life, he thought. It was certain that the doctor would never disclose any information he shared but the man would surely judge him for being a lecher. Looking at Penelope's bare arms and the exposed skin near her chest area, the doctor could only assume - and rightfully so - that he was a very very vigorous lover. Come to think of it, maybe I should have just let my darling Pen sleep last night. She was intoxicated after all. Oh, god! I am a lecherous bastard! Maybe I am to be blamed for Pen getting hurt.
The doctor must have noticed the guilt and the self-loathing so obviously displayed on his countenance that the man could only clear his throat just so he could get his attention. "Mr. Bridgerton?" the doctor prodded.
"There were er, some liberties taken during our wedding night, that I will admit. But er, I didn't - I mean we didn't - I didn't consummate our marriage," he was certain that he was all red in the face now. Oh, if only the ground would swallow me so, he mused but then, when his eyes were drawn to Penelope, he strengthened his resolve.
"Do not you worry, Mr. Bridgerton. I am most certainly, and I know your wife would agree, not blaming you for this incident. If I were to blame someone, anyone, you are certainly not one of the names on that list," the doctor reassured him.
"Please, Mr. Robertson. You must do everything that you can. She – she is most precious to me," he replied in earnest and the kind doctor smiled in return.
"I am most curious as to how long this hunger strike your wife must have been subjected to. Surely this is the most probable cause of her illness. A person's alcohol tolerance is significantly lowered when the stomach is empty you see… Mr. Bridgerton if you don't mind. May I touch your wife's abdomen? Just so I can get a feel of the relationship of her upset stomach and her fall?"
"Of course, doctor. I will be right here if you need anything," Colin could only step to the side as he watched the doctor press his palm on his wife's belly. When the doctor frowned, he felt his blood turn cold. Was that a bad sign? Is Pen severely ill?
"Mr. Bridgerton when your wife wakes up and she hurls the contents of her gut, please keep a sample of it for me. That way, I can study it. I have a feeling that her lightheadedness, as worsened by the alcohol, is due to the acidity in her stomach. You may use this glass cup that I'm placing on your nightstand." He watched the doctor place said item on the surface of the oakwood as he remembered all the instructions being laid before him.
After which, Colin observed the doctor as he gently cleaned Penelope's nasty bump, applied some sort of salve, and then placed some sort of bandage to keep the greenish medicine on her delicate forehead. To his grief, Penelope never moved at all. She didn't even make her adorable nose twitches.
"Sir, can you call a maid or a butler? I have a set of instructions here for a special brew that your wife is to take until she is fully recovered," the doctor addressed him after Penelope was tended to.
"Of course!" he lightly bowed to the doctor as he exited the master chamber leaving the door open. He didn't go far; he just walked some steps near the staircase and called for Dunwoody to send forth a maid.
"Master Colin," the maid whom he assumed was around Penelope's age bowed.
"Hello. So sorry to be rude but I need you to make haste. The doctor is going to give you a set of instructions so you can make Mrs. Bridgerton's special brew. Are you equal to the task?" he was walking back to the master chamber and the maid hurried along since he took large strides.
"I would be delighted to aid Mrs. Bridgerton, my lord."
"Mr. Robertson, here we are. Please give all necessary instructions to Penelope's maid," he nodded to the lady who curtsied to the doctor. When the doctor was busy talking to the maid, handing her a parchment with a set of instructions, Colin walked towards their bed.
He took his wife's tiny hand in his and pressed her knuckles to his lips.
"Please be alright, Pen. You promised to be with me forever. Surely you can't leave in less than four and twenty hours?" he tried to joke but it fell short. It seemed that the sun didn't shine when Penelope was ill.
When the doctor cleared his throat, Colin turned his attention to the man, "Yes, doctor?"
"I will be back tomorrow morning, sir. If anything changes within the day, do not hesitate to send your man to my home. I am hoping Mrs. Bridgerton will be in much better spirits tomorrow," the doctor nodded respectfully.
"Thank you, doctor. I too am hopeful that my wife will be all better tomorrow. As to your question about my wife's forced hunger strike, I shall inquire with my sister. They are the dearest friends and I do believe she would have some idea on the matter," he replied cordially. Truly, he owed this man a lot. Despite being new to this side of town, the doctor immediately came to his wife's aid.
"That should be helpful information, sir… Is there anything else I can do for you and Mrs. Bridgerton?"
"You have already done so much for us today. Thank you," he thanked the man profusely.
"Well then, I bid you farewell. I shall see you tomorrow," the doctor bowed, and Colin could only nod his head in thanks. It wasn't very gentlemanly, but he just couldn't be parted from Penelope when she was ill. He was terribly worried for her.
As soon as they were all alone, Penelope still remained unmoving, he remembered that there was a man, a Theo something who had the gall to call on his wife when it was just the morning after their wedding night. Who in the hell could this man be? He was certain that this intruder could not be the lecherous duke. And so, he was bloody confused and exasperated at this man's horrible timing. He didn't need anyone else bothering him when he needed to pour his attention on his ailing wife.
Left with no choice, he bid his Penelope farewell with a kiss to her forehead and then he walked downstairs to meet this intruder. There was already a very deep frown on his face since he didn't want to meet the man.
Colin ran into Dunwoody as he reached the hallway of the first floor. The trusty majordomo gestured towards the public sitting room which he knew was near the lord's study. He nodded his head in thanks as Dunwoody opened the door.
He wasn't in the mood for pleasantries what with his wife still unconscious, so he merely blurted out, "who are you and what do you want from my wife?"
"And here I thought that the Bridgertons are a noble family," the man retorted sarcastically.
"Look, Mr. Whoever You Are, Penelope is not feeling well – " Colin's patience was really wearing thinner and thinner by the second.
"What is wrong with Ms. Penelope? Is she alright?" the worry in this stranger's voice was very imminent that Colin's frown deepened. There was something in this man's eyes. It was highly apparent that he cared for Penelope, very deeply. As Penelope's husband, this realization bothered him.
"Look, Mr. – "
"Sharpe. Theo Sharpe, Mr. Bridgerton," the man interrupted, and Colin could barely roll his eyes. He didn't care about the man's name. He only wanted to know why he was so worried over his Penelope.
"Very well. Mr. Sharpe, my wife is indisposed. So, she cannot meet you right now –" not that I will ever allow you to be in her presence again, he thought. "Since you are already here, a day after our wedding I might add, just tell me what you bloody want from Penelope and I'll inform her you were here," he said dismissively.
"What did you do to her? Merely a day as her husband and she is ill? What kind of horrid – "
"Look, Sharpe, if you'll remain there sputtering insults and accusations to my face, then you leave me with no choice but to have you removed from this property. I have never heard of you and Penelope has never mentioned you to me, so I bloody don't care nor have the hesitations to have my butler force you to leave." All attempt at civility and restraint was all gone as Colin could only clench his fists in restrained fury.
"Fine, Master Bridgerton," the infuriating intruder said sarcastically. Colin's jaw clenched as he waved his hand in a bored gesture for the man to hurry along.
"I am here on behalf of the publishing house working with Ms. Featherington . Since there have been sudden changes – " the man glared at him as he eyed Colin with disgust, "we have a new contract for her to sign in case she doesn't want to put an end to her column. Also, there's some initial feedback on her proposal to write a book."
Colin noticed the thick envelope in Sharpe's hand. He still couldn't believe how far Penelope has pursued her hidden talent – writing. When he recalled the man's words, contract and column, he could feel his heart beating fast. With Marina's letter that he read last night, and now this, he was beginning to doubt the extent of Penelope's writing. When she was drunk and adorably babbling about letting him go, she mentioned she had lots of money hidden somewhere. As far as he knew, there was only one famous columnist who had surely amassed quite a fortune by now – Lady Whistledown.
His blood turned cold. It can't be!
His Penelope! His sweet innocent Penelope just couldn't be the infamous gossipmonger! Surely, he was mistaken. There must be some sort of explanation to rationalize all this.
Left with no choice, Colin turned his attention to the man in front of him. "Tell me all that you know!" his voice boomed with restrained fury.
"Why should I?" Sharpe smirked. "Besides, I am not beholden to you at all. I am here to protect Ms. Featherington's interest and that of the publishing house," he added smugly.
"Fine! Get out of my house!" Colin couldn't bear this man's insolence anymore. It grated on his nerves every single time this bastard addressed his wife as Ms. Featherington.
To Colin's utter disbelief, the man laughed sarcastically as he remained rooted in front of him.
"You don't like me, do you?" Sharpe smirked.
" Get out !" Colin hissed.
"Fine!" Sharpe rolled his eyes dropped the thick envelope to his feet and walked to the door. Before he left, he turned to a completely enraged Colin.
"I will be back for Ms. Featherington's answer," he smirked.
"Like hell, you will! I will never allow Penelope to ever see your stupid face again," Colin retorted with gritted teeth.
"Such a shame… I seem to recall Ms. Penny calling me charming when we meet in secret," Sharpe said with a salacious grin.
It took all of Colin's self-restraint and his mother's teachings on the actions of a gentleman for him to not punch this git's annoying face. He was seething in rage and jealousy. He trusted Penelope's words about her lack of paramours, truly he did. Her innocence from their passionate encounter last night surely proved that. However, he hated this man's familiarity with Penelope and her secrets. In fact, he was bloody jealous that this man seemed to know of his wife's secrets and the fact that she clearly was friendly with the man. It also didn't help that this man was so obviously besotted with Penelope. Any dunderhead could have easily deduced that this bastard coveted his Penelope for himself.
Deciding that he didn't want to be outdone by this annoying upstart, Colin smirked at the man as he said, "You know Sharpe, you may be colleagues with my wife, you may know her secret professional life, but at the end of the day, that's all you'll ever be."
Colin felt smug and bloody proud when he noticed the man's eyes flash with pain. He was being petty he knew that, but he was just so annoyed and jealous of this man in front of him.
Deciding to plunge the sword deeper into his rival's heart, he continued, "Penelope is a Bridgerton. She always will be. She is mine. She is my anchor, my lover, and the future mother of my children… And so, you better find someone else, mate… At the end of the day, I can only say this – "
"Say what ?" Sharpe cut him off.
"I will never and I repeat – never – let Penelope go. Not to you. Not to that bastard of a duke. She'll be my wife until I breathe my last on this very Earth… Is that understood?" his voice was cold, but he smirked at the man. He needed to crush this man's delusions once and for all. He already had a lecherous duke to worry about. He didn't need another upstart lusting after his wife. Ironic that Penelope never thought much of herself in the looks department, but she has these idiots lusting after her.
"You don't deserve her!" Sharpe replied with gritted teeth.
"Maybe, but – " he shrugged.
"You don't deserve her! You don't love her as I do! You who never saw her for the gem that she is! Did you know that she wrote very sad poetry because of you! You who claimed who would never marry her!" the heartbroken man yelled at him.
Now that hurt. Despite everything, this man did have a point. And it felt like being slapped in the face.
"If only I were a nobleman, if only I knew that her horrid relations would consent to the match, I would have married Penelope years ago!" Sharpe continued his lament.
Colin could feel his heart stop beating at the thought of this man marrying Penelope. Loathe as he was to admit, Sharpe had a point. If he was a nobleman, then Sharpe would have charmed his Penelope away. And he knew, that if only Sharpe had the means, that the man in front of him would have been capable of winning Penelope's heart. And that hurt. It hurt a lot. The thought of Penelope marrying someone else was sickening. It made him want to cry like a little boy – something that he hadn't done in years.
"Mr. Sharpe, please leave. I need to tend to Penelope," Colin could only mutter those words as his thoughts drifted to a life with Penelope married to someone else.
"I'll be back for Ms. Penny's answer," and with that Sharpe left the drawing-room, banging the door loudly.
Like hell you are, Colin growled. As soon as Penelope was feeling better, he would forbid her from meeting Theo Sharpe again. If she wanted to pursue her writing, it was perfectly fine. He would be a gracious and supportive husband. But like hell would he allow Sharpe or any man to ever work with his Penelope ever again! Who knows how many lechers my innocent Penelope has been unknowingly beguiling in the world? Heaven forbid he come across another scorned admirer of his wife again! It would not do. Not at all. She can write all she wants. He was fine with that. But he would never allow her to work with men ever again. She was so innocent and naïve, unaware of what her charms could do to a man.
"Good god!" he exclaimed as he recalled the envelope that was still on the floor.
He wanted confirmation. Anything to deny or to prove his hunch that Penelope is Lady Whistledown, so he was determined to open the bloody envelope.
Carefully tearing the seal from the lid, he took a deep breath as he waited for the truth to be revealed.
And then he saw it.
A renewal contract.
A renewal contract for Lady Whistledown's Society Papers.
Addressed to Penelope Bridgerton nee Featherington.
His heart was thumping so fast. His mind processing a million thoughts.
Marina. Penelope. Lady Whistledown.
It all made sense. Left with no choice, Penelope used her power as Lady Whistledown to save him from the most horrid fate of a loveless marriage and entrapment to Marina's deceit.
Penelope risked her very own family, and her reputation, just to save his bloody arse.
Theo Sharpe was right.
He didn't deserve Penelope.
He was unaware of his surroundings as he resealed the contract and carefully clutched it in his hand. He would hide these documents away in the safe that was in the lord's study. He would wait until Penelope was completely well and then they would discuss this.
First things first, he wanted to know more.
He wanted to read Marina's letters to Penelope.
He needed to read her journals.
He needed to find out what else is there.
What other secrets did Penelope keep close to her heart?
April 30th, 1812
Dearest Penelope,
Forgive me for having not written to you sooner.
Truly, I needed the time to process your revelation as to what you claim to be your deceit.
I have to admit, at first, I want to expose the truth of your secret. But then, I realized that if I were in your shoes, if it were my beloved George being deceived, I would have moved heaven and hell to make everything right. And for that, I truly understand.
I know it's your birthday a few weeks ago so I just want to say belated happy birthday dear cousin.
Looking back at all that we've been through together, I haven't thanked you properly.
When I was at the Featherington estate, you were the only friendly and kind face there. You talked to me, welcomed me, and you became my friend. When my pregnancy was made known to your mama, you were the only person in the house who never judged me. You continued to talk to me, and you supported me. When I told you of my beloved George, you patiently waited every day for his mail just so you could hand them over to me. You kept me company at balls, made sure that old lechers steered clear from me. You helped me every step of the way.
And then, just then, I decided to be cruel. I chose to trick a man who was clearly a dear friend to you just because he was the most gullible and easy to deceive. It also didn't help that he was kind, someone I can tolerate just for the sake of my child. At this point, I ignored your pleas to look for some other man and I chose to hurt you instead by saying that he shall never see you as more than you are. I cruelly hit you with the words I know would hurt the most.
With all of that history, I can only say, I do hope you will forgive me Pen, as I have forgiven you. Truly, you are a dear friend that I am most grateful to have met. I honestly thought you wouldn't reach out to me after everything and yet, you did. You made the first move by writing to me first – inquiring after my health and that of my child's. If only your mama would allow, I would gladly invite you here.
Do not worry my dear, Pen. Your secret is safe with me. I can only add, you clever minx! Penelope Featherington who would have thought.
Philip, like his brother, is a kind man. I will never love him, but he does have my respect.
He is an honorable man who went beyond what is expected just to make sure I am cared for, along with George's last legacy on this Earth.
Since Philip is not fond of the ton and London, it will be most difficult for us to see each other in person. However, if I may, can you grant me this small request as your penance of sorts? Please send me copies of your work. That way, I would have something to entertain me as I sit about here in my grand parlor.
All my love,
Your Cousin
Marina
Colin's reading was interrupted when he heard an anguished whimper from Penelope. He was sitting beside his still unconscious wife reading through letters that he found in her trunk from last night.
"Mama, please!" she begged in her sleep. He noticed tears falling down her soft cheeks.
"Pen! It's alright!" he tossed the letter somewhere since his focus was now on his wife.
"Please, mama! Don't throw Milo out! I promise! I won't eat anymore! Just don't take him away from me!" she continued to cry as she begged in her nightmare. Is it really just a nightmare or some horrible memory? Colin thought sadly as he tried to shake her so she could open her beautiful blue eyes. It pained him to see her like this.
"Pen, it's alright! You're here!" he cooed to her ear.
"Mama! No! I swear! I won't eat anymore! Just please! " she was shaking now, and Colin panicked. He touched her forehead and she was burning. He remembered an incident like this when he was younger. There was a time when Francesca was sick, her fever burning so high that her body shook.
"Pen! Hang on!" he pleaded as he left the bed and ran downstairs.
"Dunwoody!"
"Yes, sir?"
"Tell the maids to get lots of ice and cold water. We need to bring Penelope's fever down. Have them bring it up to our chambers as soon as possible. Quickly!" Colin gave the instructions frantically.
"Of course, sir," Dunwoody ran to get help and he too ran back to Penelope.
When he reached their bedroom, Penelope was still lightly shaking, her body tinged red, and her temperature was on fire. Suddenly, her eyes opened.
"Pen!"
"Co – Colin?" her eyes were unfocused but she managed to say his name.
Pressing his lips to her burning knuckles, "I'm here, my love. I'm here."
"Where's Milo?" she sniffed.
"He's okay. He's okay," he bluffed.
"Mama didn't hurt him anymore?" she asked.
"No, Pen. Milo's fine," he lied. Note to self, ask Eloise to have Anthony demand for the dog to be brought here.
"Oh – " and then, she clutched her belly and threw up.
Colin could only watch in fear. Portia Featherington had a lot to answer for.
With all that he has heard, it was clear that Penelope's hunger strikes went on long before their wedding. He grabbed a cloth to wipe away the remnants from her stomach, saving some sample in the glass the doctor told him to, and then he changed Penelope's clothes.
Around two hours later, the maids were ready with the cold bath that he asked for. Lifting an unconscious Penelope in his arms, he carried her to the bath connected to the master chamber. After he removed her nightgown, he carefully placed Penelope into the tub of ice and cold water.
Her eyes opened at the sudden temperature change.
"Mama?" she whispered.
"No, Pen. It's me," he held her now very cold hand.
"I'm cold," she shivered.
"I'm sorry, darling, but you must endure it. We need to bring your fever down," he said sadly.
"Okay," she closed her eyes once more. He watched her face intently, looking for any sign to see if she was feeling better, and then she spoke once more, "Colin?"
"Yes, darling?"
"I'm sorry," her voice was so small.
"For what?" he held her hand again.
"Being such a bother."
"You're stuck with me now, Pen. Because of that, you need to get better, alright?" he tried to add some levity in his voice.
"Love you," she murmured as she closed her eyes once again.
He wanted to say something, but he didn't. This was such a tense situation and it was entirely unromantic. Besides, in her delirium, Penelope wouldn't remember anything.
"Just don't leave me, Pen," he said instead as he pressed his lips to her now much cooler forehead.
Dearest Eloise,
I need your assistance.
Please come to visit me and Pen at our new home as soon as you can.
Penelope is ill. Something about her upset stomach from hunger. I reckon this has been going on for a much longer time under the torment of her cruel mother.
Penelope is begging for her puppy, Milo, in her delirium. I'm not certain what happened to the dog since I can't recall seeing him there when I proposed. If so, can you tell Anthony to demand the dog be brought here to our home? If not, and if the pup is gone, maybe you can purchase a puppy that looks quite similar. It would make Penelope happy for sure.
There are so many horrors that Penelope has faced through the years. If you are aware of them or not, I am uncertain. Nevertheless, I need your help. I need to talk to you. You are dearest to Penelope so you will be of help to me as I make sure she recovers and soon.
In dire need of your presence,
Your brother
Colin
Colin waited for the ink to dry before he sealed the envelope and wrote Eloise's name on the front. Checking that Penelope was once again asleep, her temperature now cooler due to her being immersed in cold water, he left his chambers once again to look for a servant to deliver his missive to his sister.
When their carriage was off with Eloise's letter, he sighed. Hopefully, Eloise could provide him with answers or even some detail on Penelope's life these past five years. He already read through all the letters from Marina and it only confirmed two facts. One – Marina was the only person aside from her publisher to be aware of Penelope's nom de plume as Lady Whistledown. Two – Marina and Penelope remained close to one another through the letters they've exchanged.
He returned to their bedroom, determined to continue reading the thick journal of sorts that he found last night.
In the journal, he read some very old pieces, dated when Penelope was not even in her teens. It was very apparent that she was indeed a very gifted writer even as a child. She wrote about everything – nature, her dreams, her fears, and her pains.
He noticed a pattern in Penelope's poetry though. In her younger years, she followed the classics. She wrote odes, limericks, and the like. When she reached her teens, her poetry was different. It was now something she called freeform. It seemed that she wanted to revolutionize the way poetry can be written.
He marked the pages of his favorites by folding the tips of the page. He particularly liked this piece she wrote of the sun. She wrote it when she was just twelve years of age. It was an ode in Pindaric form. Amazing, he thought with a proud smile blooming on his face as he glanced at his sleeping wife. A twelve-year-old writing an ode!
September 7th, 1808
Style: Pindaric Ode
Ode to the Rising Sun
New life springs with the rising of the glittering ball of fire...
Mighty source of life forms created by omnipotent God!
Its splendor felt all worlds! Whilst absent people in dire!
Oh, sun so bright! Thy radiance, inexistence of flood!
We've been unkind to your subjects! Abusive here on earth...
You've taken wrath, exuded intensity, warming too much;
Our negligence, extravagance, greediness for everything,
Brought destruction and suffering...us to blame for such!
Despite befallen , you're kind, consistent, to all in hearth!
Adoration- Thanks for life! Exuberant shine! For everything!
You proudly rise, from eastern seas, subtly retire in western hills.
Light you bring, used to bring joy, now things have changed.
We are grieved! Need cooling now, like that of windmills.
Our fault- We beseech! Lessen warmth! So, all again be arranged...
Facing you eastward, awed astounding luminescence.
Hoping all see your softer side, your real beauty once again.
Oh, beautiful sun! How amazing you are! Honored in your growing glory!
Rising picturesque colors , tangerine tinged crimson as day begin!
Bring hope to my very being! You stand out- Symbol of God's presence!
Don't feel neglected! Thou incomparable! Thou perfect, lest in fury!
Now I'm looking at your full glow, pen in my small palm.
I pray to thine Creator, forgive all of man's violation;
I hope life will remain beautiful, less tribulation;
Wishing life be full of hope each day, like your rising calm.
The hours pass, I'll sit and await you! Descend, be concealed!
Everything a sunrise of hope! But nay-a certain time ending.
Looking at you, learned time's value, one of life's teaching;
Life is you- great symbol of life and energy, full colors revealed!
Sunset then comes, thy light slowly vanishes away;
Before it's dark, thy best colors complete my day!
Colin was truly astounded as to the depth, the raw talent, and the intensity of Penelope's gift for the written word even as a child. Her limericks were witty and funny, just like the barbs she casually throws at him in the many balls they attended. But her ode to the sun was different. To him, it was the masterpiece she had written in her childhood.
Another piece that he dog-eared was something she wrote as a fourteen-year-old. She wrote a short anecdote above the sonnet, claiming that it was inspired by a novel she had read. It was clear that she wanted to hone her craft as much as possible so she attempted to write as diversely as possible – even topics she didn't know about. Because really, how could a girl of four and ten write about a broken romance? Still, it was so astounding that she could write powerful words even those inspired by things she just read.
December 23rd, 1810
Style: Sonnet
Looking at a very vivid portrait of the one I love,
Wondering why the playful Fates, pull tears from my eyes.
I see thy world light up, while holding a new maiden's glove.
I want to escape the light in my eyes, and rather see dark dyes.
My heart is crushed, the crown thou bestowed is passed to another,
Promises thou made, now in a blur, asking myself what's wrong;
We are so far away, thou changed, and thou decided not to bother;
Do not thou love me like thou once did, with a passion so strong?
My greatest mistake, I left thee, without saying a sweet goodbye,
I must have presumed that our love, so tender, will fortify the miles;
Now I'm crying, looking at thy portraits, singing her a lullaby,
Those oh so sweet lullabies, thou sang giving my heart smiles!
Pleading thou will be mine again, is futile and pathetic,
But I'm praying, thou be happy, with thy new romantic.
And then, there was the most recent piece he read. The piece that made his heart ache.
He now understood why Penelope was very hesitant to marry him.
It was now clear why she thought of ways she could end their marriage through her research of the marital law.
Penelope Featherington promised to give up on her love for him a year ago. In the many letters she exchanged with Marina, he understood that Penelope implied she never even imagined that he would return her feelings for him. Marina, trying to be supportive, would hint about him, teasingly giving a tip or two on how Penelope can capture his attention, but it was obvious his wife never believed her well-meaning cousin.
And then, he recalled the many barbs' Lady Whistledown wrote about Penelope catching the eye of a Bridgerton, most especially himself. The gossipmonger, who turned out to be Penelope herself, made it laughable that a Featherington, most especially Penelope, could secure a match with a Bridgerton.
It seemed Penelope was content to love him from afar. She was happy just to be his friend and to talk with him at balls.
But then, he came across a poem that broke his heart. His Penelope had given up on him. And it was his fault.
It was all here, in this one piece that she wrote on the day he proclaimed that he would never marry Penelope Featherington in front of his brothers.
May 25th, 1817
Style: Freeform
Everything I know about love
I learned from you
And everything I know about pain
I learned from you
You were my only
You were my first
You showed me lonely
And you took me in when I was hurt
But the most important thing you ever gave me
Was the one
That hurt the most
So thank you for the broken heart
And thank you for the permanent scar
Because if it wasn't for you
I might forget
How it feels to let go
And how it feels to get a brand new start
So thank you for the broken heart
And every time I find myself alone in pieces
I find myself
I'll just remember when you hurt me and I made it
So thank you for the broken heart
And thank you for the permanent scar
Because if it wasn't for you
I wouldn't be here
With the love of my life
All my pain's disappeared
I've come so far
So thank you for the broken heart
I thank you
I thank you
For the broken heart
As he read this piece over and over again, he knew. Penelope could still find a way to leave him.
He wasn't secure in her love for him now.
And it hurt.
It bloody hurt because it was now him who couldn't imagine a life without her.
A/N: The Ode and the Sonnet are originally written by me.
The poem, the one in freeform, the one written during the horrid "I certainly will not marry Penelope Featherington" scene is selected lyrics from the song, "Thank You For The Broken Heart" by J Rice.
This story is actually of the Hurt/Comfort genre so there's a lot of angsty and tear-filled scenes. Colin may have had it easy getting Pen to marry him but the guilt will be harder to escape.
Anyway, I do hope this rather long update is worth the wait.
I feel vulnerable adding my own silly poems that I wrote when I was much younger in this fic, but WTH! The story needs it!
So... What do y'all think? Let me know your thoughts.