Chapter One

Colin

Colin liked to believe he was a difficult man to rattle. He had seen so much of the world, from strange plants in Greece to sunsets across an endless ocean. He'd stained his hands black with ink in his desperation to capture the sensations within a drugged cup of tea, sat among strangers under a thousand galaxies. He'd always imagined travel would make him secure of his place in the world, but a single sentence uttered from the lips of Penelope Featherington apparently had the power to decimate all the security in the world.

"Good day, Mister Bridgerton."

Her chin was tilted high, her expression closed off like he'd never seen it. His hand hovered in the space between them, his skin still tingling with the anticipation of her touch. She scarcely ever denied him a dance. She never called him 'Mister Bridgerton'.

She turned away, slipping into the crowd, and he let his hand fall to his side, alarm and confusion swirling through his mind. She was angry with him. She must be angry with him—they had called each other by their given names since childhood, since her presence in their house and at Eloise's side had made her a constant in his life.

Eloise.

Colin tucked his hand into a fist and turned away from the audience, ignoring the curious eyes which had begun to take note of his frozen posture. If anyone would know what he might have done to make Penelope so cold to him, Eloise would. A part of him rankled at the idea of begging his sister's help, but the echo of Penelope's words still ran through his mind, and he knew his pride would be a worthy sacrifice to this endeavour.

Now, for the true challenge. Colin wove through the mass of people, scanning for the pale shades of blue Mother favoured for Eloise. He gave the dance floor the barest glance, unsurprised to find her missing from the revelry, though of course Anthony and his newly betrothed were there, enraptured with each other. Colin rolled his eyes, even as a thrill of joy ran through him. It was nice to see Anthony tamed.

On the other side of the dance floor, he found Benedict leant against a pillar, his arms folded as he stared up at the gilded ceiling.

"Brother," Colin greeted, striding to Benedict's side and snorting when the other man almost jumped from his skin.

"Brother," Benedict answered, smoothing his features into a pleasant expression. "Have you seen the paintwork on these so-called masterpieces? I hear they were commissioned for fifty pound, and still the brushwork—"

"I have not time for this," Colin blurted. "Have you seen Eloise?"

"Oh." Benedict waved a hand. "She's around somewhere. I think Mother was attempting to get her on the dance floor."

Colin blinked at him. "She has not yet succeeded," he said. "I'll find her myself."

He left Benedict to scowl at the paintings and continued through the ball, nerves growing now in his chest. It felt to him the more time was passing, the more Penelope's dismissal was sinking into his skin. Becoming real. He had to find the cause of this offense and make her pardon before the night was out. The thought of attempting to sleep with those words hanging over him seemed an impossible task.

He had never been out of sorts with Penelope. He hadn't even been aware Penelope had an out of sorts. She was always the picture of brightness and joy, ready with an eager smile and a shine in her eyes. Her words had always been soft and complimentary, and he had not realised until that moment what a gift that had been.

Just the other day, he had promised not to take her friendship for granted. He had told her as such—could it be those words which had upset her so? Had she realised how far he had taken her for granted until now, and decided to test his resolve?

Surely not. Pen had a kind heart. She would not turn on a friend out of spite. Would she?

Colin's heart stuttered as a flash of blue caught his eye, and it took all his training not to positively leap after the motion. Eloise. He strode for her, almost knocking a conversing couple aside in his haste. They deserved a more effective apology, but he had time only to offer a quick bow and a "pardon me," before he raced once more after Eloise.

"Sister." He grabbed her arm. "I must speak with you."

Eloise attempted to tug herself free, then cast a fearful glance over her shoulder. "You must rescue me from Mama, first. She is adamant I dance with Lord Rutbridge, and he's already stepped on my toes twice tonight. Off the dance floor."

Colin offered her his arm, and whisked her towards a side corridor, catching sight of Mother's dismayed expression as he did so. He'd pay for this later, he knew.

"Thank you," Eloise gasped once they were free of the ballroom. "It is stifling in there. I cannot imagine how anyone enjoys these hideous events."

"Some of us like dancing," Colin told her. "Stop messing with your gown, it looks fine."

"It does not feel fine," Eloise groaned.

"It is fine," Colin said again. "Eloise, I must ask if you have spoken with Penelope this evening?"

Eloise stopped fidgeting all at once, her expression going as flat as Penelope's had earlier. "I have not, and I do not plan to," she spat.

Colin straightened. "You have had an argument," he realised. Was that why Penelope was so cold? Because he was Eloise's brother? Perhaps she thought he must side with his sister for the duration of the disagreement, and so had shunned him.

"You must make it up," he said, gripping Eloise's arms. "She seems dreadfully affected by it. She did not even smile at me when I greeted her."

"I do not wish to speak with her," Eloise countered, fury sparking in her eyes. "You think because you are a man, you can give me orders? You do not control me, brother."

"Lord above, don't I know it," Colin groaned. He cast his eyes around to ensure they were not drawing overmuch attention before leaning in once more. "Eloise, she is your best friend. Whatever this fight is about, surely it is not so important as your friendship?"

"I shall not speak with her," Eloise said again.

Colin nodded in defeat, letting go of her. "Fine. I shall fix this myself."

"Wait." It was Eloise's turn to grab him. "If she has turned on you as well, all the better. You should stay away from her, brother. She is not to be trusted."

Colin almost laughed in her face. "Eloise," he scoffed. "This is Penelope. Of course she can be trusted."

Eloise would not look at him, and Colin almost faltered in his certainty. He typically trusted Eloise to be truthful, if pessimistic and grumpy about it. But this was Penelope. It was Pen, his closest friend and confidant. Eloise must be mistaken, and Colin must find a way to fix this.

Right now.

He turned to return to the ball, intending to find Penelope and beg her to put his relationship with Eloise aside, to forgive him for whatever slight Eloise has given, when Penelope herself stepped into the corridor.

She froze at the sight of them together, her usually pale complexion turning positively white. A chill rolled down Colin's spine at the sight, her usual joy destroyed by whatever slight Eloise had given her.

"Pen," he choked out, his voice sounding wrong to his ears.

"Leaving early?" Eloise cut in, poison filling her words. "Has the ball already given you what you wanted?"

"Eloise," Pen managed to say. "I—I was not leaving. I heard you were here, and was hoping I might speak with you. I mean to apologise."

She did not look at Colin. Her entire focus was fixed on Eloise, as if it was Eloise's forgiveness she needed. But if that was the case, why would she shun Colin over their falling out?

It made no sense. None of this made any sense.

"I wish to return home," Eloise said, turning on her heel and making for the door, as if she had any means of travel out there. Mother and Benedict were still inside—there was no carriage waiting.

Penelope cast a quick, fearful look in Colin's direction, as if they were once again friends. As if she were able to share her worries about Eloise with him. Then her face closed off again, as if she put shutters up behind her eyes, and she hurried after Eloise.

Colin could not sensibly leave them alone, especially in their unchaperoned state. Especially in this weather! He cried out as Eloise and then Penelope fled into the downpour he hadn't seen from inside the hall, horror chilling him at the thought of losing either of them.

"Where are you going?" he heard Penelope call.

"Home!" Eloise shouted back. "Away from you!"

God above, Colin would string her up for this. He raced into the torrent, squinting as water instantly ran into his eyes and over his skin. At least it was not overly cold, with the summer heat still lingering in the air, though that perhaps was not a blessing: a roll of thunder cracked the air as Colin bolted after Eloise and Penelope.

The two women were hardly more than a blur of colour in the storm-swept world. Eloise seemed resolute in her determination to run home, as she fled down the road in the direction of Grosvenor Square. Penelope followed in a haze of yellow, and so did Colin, bewilderment churning inside him.

What could possibly have happened to justify a chase in the rain? What could Penelope have done to infuriate Eloise so? The thought of sweet, caring Penelope having the ability to infuriate someone in such a manner seemed impossible.

The next flash of lightning split the sky in half, almost knocking Colin from his feet with its blinding flash. The thunder which followed was immediate, and Colin staggered upright, horror truly coursing through his blood now.

"Eloise!" he screamed. "Penelope! Get inside!"

The two women had stopped running with the bolt of lightning. Eloise seemed to have fallen, and she was clutching the wall which ran alongside the estate, her fingers digging into the bronze bust perched on top of the wall as she struggled to find her balance.

Colin finally reached them, grabbing Penelope with one hand and reaching to stabilise Eloise with the other when another blinding flash encompassed his vision, a blaze of heat coursed through him and his ears rang with furious noise.

As pain raced through his every nerve and terror encompassed his soul, the only thing he knew was that he could not let go of Penelope and Eloise. He could not release the hold he had on them, or he absolutely knew something horrid would occur. So even as darkness stole over his being and dragged him away, he kept his grip solid.

He could not lose them.

Eloise

The world changed all at once. Eloise hadn't even fallen. She stood with her hands on the now-cracked statue, her fingers pressing into the bronze bust which had an instant before been whole. Now, it was green with age and split almost in two, with a vicious dark crack cutting through it.

The storm raged on overhead, and Colin's hold on her arm remained fixed as he swayed in place, his eyes distant and unfocussed. Pen was kneeling in the dirt, her yellow dress stained and drenched, her hair plastered to her skin as she looked up at Eloise, fear evident in her expression.

And suddenly none of it mattered. Whistledown, the betrayal, the lies. Eloise released the statue with a whimper as tears filled Pen's eyes, and Eloise threw herself at her friend, tugging Pen close and letting herself breathe.

"Are you okay?" Eloise gasped.

"Are you?" Pen replied, brushing wet hair from her face. "Did the lightning strike you?"

"The statue," Eloise said, indicating the strangely green bust, its hideous crack. "If Colin hadn't grabbed me, perhaps… Colin?"

Her brother was swaying on his feet, his face almost green. His hold on her arm was still strong—almost strong enough to bruise if he didn't release her soon.

"Colin," Penelope demanded. "Are you well?"

The look she gave Eloise must have matched her own horror. She had never seen Colin struck so dumb before. He looked almost ready to collapse. Eloise had to stabilise him. She grabbed him as Pen did the same, shaking Colin's shoulder as he drew in a sharp, sudden breath and groaned.

"Ow." The sound ground through his teeth as his eyes became aware, scanning first Eloise and the Penelope's faces. His grip on Eloise's arm tightened for a beat, and then relaxed as he drew back and ran a hand through his sodden hair. "We must get inside," he said.

They looked back up the roadway as one, to see the stately home dark and empty. There were no carriages on the driveway, except… Eloise squinted through the rain, taking off past Pen and Colin to take in the strange shapes stood outside the house. There was something in the driveway. A driveway which did not feel right under her slippers. There were strange, dark shapes. Wheeled, like carriages, but smaller and rounded in shape.

"El," Colin said, coming to her side. "I do not think…"

"It does not look right," Pen agreed, coming to Eloise's other side and threading their arms together. The rain still beat down, a little lighter than before. The thought of waiting for another bolt of lightning made Eloise's skin crawl, but the house they had just left did not look like the one in front of them now.

"We should return home," Colin suggested. "It may be safest."

Eloise hummed in agreement, and the three of them turned to complete their walk to Grosvenor's square, thankfully just a short distance from where they were. They had just passed the broken statue when the ring of footsteps sounded, and a figure appeared at the end of the driveway, running towards them with something bright in their hand.

Not a torch. It did not burn.

"Hey!" a voice called. Eloise startled to realise it was a female voice, and indeed as the figure drew closer, she did indeed have the stature of a woman, though that seemed where the likelihood ended. As Colin pushed Pen and Eloise back, bracing to face this newcomer, Eloise saw that this woman was wearing dark blue trousers and a vibrant pink coat, the hood of which had fallen back. Her hair was cut short; it hung around her ears in a look very much out of fashion, and in her hands, the strange unwavering light shone.

"You shouldn't be here," the woman said, shining the light so it shone into Eloise's eyes. "This is a heavily-guarded area of research. Can you not read the signs, or did you think the danger labels were too vague?"

"What do you mean, research?" Eloise demanded, speaking over Colin's attempts to talk. "We have seen no signs or warnings. I assure you, we are all perfectly capable of reading."

"We were invited here," Colin added.

"I do not think here is where we were invited," Pen said quietly, scanning the area with those so perceptive Whistledown eyes. Eloise tensed, gritted her teeth at the thought of Theo's lost face.

She might have lost Pen today. Yesterday's anger pales by that comparison.

"Where are we?" Eloise asked the strange woman. "Who are you?"

The woman's light raked over them again, and Eloise fought a shiver. The rain might have been summer rain, but it was still exceedingly wet, and she was in desperate need of a warm bath.

"My name is Ava, and you are in Mayfair, London," the woman said, a note of something in her voice.

"Of course we are," Colin said, a note of desperation in his voice. "We are exactly where we were."

Ava shook her head, pressing her tongue to her lips. "I don't think you are." She looked down at the strange thing in her hand and back up to them. "You are in Mayfair, London, in the year 2022."