Mrs. Martin, or Bernadette, was snoring in his bed which he found amusing, at the same time he was jealous of her that she could sleep, and he could not.
She had arrived at his Manor last night, right after her husband had shifted to a "business trip" to Birmingham. In reality, Fife knew that Mr. Martin, aka Henry had hefty gambling debts and this "business trip" had more to do with selling property there, an estate he had learned, which had been in Martin's family for hundreds of years. Robert was not aware that apparently Henry's debt was so high that no other option was possible, but he suspected that the man had gotten involved with unsavoury types who might be done with his excuses and displeasure of refusing to pay.
Robert knew exactly which people were involved, they had approached him too, but he had rebuffed them with a swift, condescending reply and asked how they dared even approach him.
It wasn't that he didn't enjoy a game or two in the clubs, but it was nothing to him on betting on horses or boxing matches for example. There were rumours that something had happened to Featherington and that his death was not an "accident" but really hard evidence no one had and for the rest there was no real talk about it. Inappropriate conversation, of course, while enjoying a cognac or a whiskey of course, also Featherington had not been among them for 1.5 years.
If there is one universal truth was on this earth it was that life went on no matter how cliche it sounded. Featherington had long been forgotten about.
Henry had been foolish but most of all gullible and yet somewhere he had a sliver of pity for the man, no doubt it was not easy to have to part with his possessions. He suspected his wife knew nothing about it and Robert was not the person to tell her.
Said wife suddenly turned around which startled Robert and caused him to turn back but then went back to sleep.
He watched her as she slept, her blond curls a mess, due to him he supposed, the recollection of it making him grin. He inspected her face further and concluded that she was not particularly pretty, rather plain looking really, but what she had in her upper regions more than made up for it.
Robert enjoyed going to bed with her and lavish on her copious breasts but otherwise had no feelings for her at all as she simply did not interest him. Bernadette was one of many disgruntled wives who fell easily into his arms. He suspected that Bernadette was all the more disgruntled since she had confided in him that he did not sleep with her. She had told him that he spent many nights away from home and when he returned he "smelled" differently, reeked of cologne, not eau de parfum but cologne.
Bernadette had seemingly not yet made the link, but Robert had. But then again it wasn't up to Robert to tell her. They had met at yet another insipid ball a year ago. Their eyes met and when he saw her smile shyly at him, the smile half hidden behind her fan, he knew he had found his new target and she had easily fallen for his charms.
It had been almost too easy in that regard. However, he couldn't wait to get rid of her tomorrow morning, discreetly of course. He knew she had made up an excuse to go her sister for an overnight stay, so she wasn't going to be around for long anyway.
Robert pulled the blankets a little closer to him; et was a lot colder now, he realized. The blistering heat had given way to a beginning of rainy days, the omen of autumn. He stared up at the ceiling, just for a moment before sighing and closing his eyes, hoping to regain some sleep.
When he awoke he was pleased to see Bernadette to be gone already. One glance at the clock told him it was already ten o'clock; it was but well that he had no appointments today. He had been at the factory yesterday and after a brief conversation with the manager he saw his presence was not long needed.
He called his butler and ordered him to get the bath ready and also order the cook to provide a late breakfast. Sipping his coffee, he flickered through the pages and read the financial section, among others, and about developments in mechanization and realized that on the manufacturing front things were changing rapidly.
He then read Lady Whistledown's leaflet, purely for fun. She was back apparently from an absence of what seemed to be six weeks or perhaps more. There were those who had hoped the writer had finally quit but nothing could be further from the truth.
"Dearest gentle reader.
Did you miss me?
I have missed you; I'll admit.
I hope you can forgive my absence, but I needed some rest, especially after covering such an eventful season. But not to worry, I am back to cover the new craze that is sweeping through the wonderful city of ours..
You see, it's not enough that the people of the ton don't already engage in frivolous balls enough in the summer," Robert had to chuckle, he and Lady Whistledown shared the same sentiments when it came to these events, "it's now also nouvelle mode to organize balls with an autumn theme and I assume winter as well in a few months.
Regardless of my objections to these superfluous gatherings, I can and will assure you one thing. I will be there to report on them all.
Till then, I bid you adieu.
Yours sincerely,
Lady Whistledown".
After a few knocks, the butler entered, and Robert was given permission to enter. "I have mail for you, my lord," Evans said, walking towards him with a silver tray, with an envelope on it, placed on a lace cloth. "Thank you Evans," Robert said as the envelope was accepted. "Is there anything else you wish, my lord?" asked Evans solemnly.
"Yes, have everything cleared up. I will drink the rest of my coffee in my study like this".
"Certainly, sir" Evans said and soon shifted.
Robert looked at the envelope and saw "Carlyle" written on the back, which did ring a bell somewhere but then again did not. He opened the envelope and took out a card.
"You are hereby invited to the Autumn ball of the Carlyle family on the seventh of October."
The seventh of October would be this Saturday.
Well, he realised, you could say a lot about Lady Whistledown but not that she was not current. Robert recalled that he had spoken briefly to WIliam Carlyle a while back and had given him some advice on where best to locate his newly opened textile factory and he supposed that had garnished the invitation. That and the way William had introduced his daughter Melinda to him.
She was much sought after among the finer gentleman of London, but it was rumoured that she had not yet met anyone that had sparked a curiosity within her, at least so far.
Robert had danced with her once but had not otherwise gotten around to courting her, he told himself. The actual truth was that while Melinda Carlyle was a beauty to behold and 'checked all the boxes' for him, and also the boxes of what could be an opportune marriage, Mr Carlyle was rich, extremely rich, he was not particularly interested in her either.
He didn't really know why actually maybe she was just one of the dozens, well mannered, fluent in French (he had heard), wonderful piano forte player (or so he had heard) engaging in conversation, etc but perhaps he was searching g for something else... something more unconventional.
Unintentionally his thoughts ventured to Penelope Featherington. Would she be there? Would she be in London at all he wondered? He hadn't seen her since they had been so rudely interrupted by that wanker of a Bridgerton and had gathered that they had left shortly afterwards. Something to do with an aunt dying he had gathered through word of mouth.
He hoped she had been returned as Robert still had a bone to pick with Colin Bridgerton in particular.
It was Robert's move now and he looked forward to continuing the game.
A few days later
Penelope was overjoyed to be back in London. She had found that country life had its charms, but she missed the hustle and bustle of living in a big city. That and she had been bored, vehemently bored.
Right after bizarrely ended afternoon with Lord Fife her mother had received a letter notifying her that her great-aunt, Petunia, was dying. Portia had remembered little about her, apart from the two times she had met her as a child. Somehow, the caretakers for her aunt had found her to be the only remaining family.
Even though Portia did not know Petunia well, she had remembered one thing after her visits to her great aunt. Petunia was rich, quite rich, and so she summoned her servants to pack up their clothing and everything else they might need. Arriving in the countryside, they all met great-aunt Petunia who was bedridden and often struggled to speak. Everyone, including the servants, did not expect Petunia to last long, but she did the days turned into weeks and at one point the Featherington were still there after six weeks.
"Mama. I want to go home" Philippa had whined.
"Me too, mama" continued Prudence to which Portia heaved a deep sigh.
"Listen I'm aware it's not the ideal situation but please girls. It's important that we stay because who knows she might put us in her will, and we will inherit something more. Just a little longer," she pleaded.
And 'luckily' Portia was right because two more days later Petunia died, peacefully in her bed. The girls were distraught, even though they did not know their aunt very well, they had grown fond of her in recent weeks.
A day or two after the funeral, Portia was asked to come to the notary to discuss things. It was not quite right that Portia was the only remaining family, Petunia had another son with whom she was estranged, so most of the inheritance, including the estate would go to him, much to Portia's dismay.
Still, Petunia had thought of her.
"Lady Featherington. The late Petunia Clarkson left you a sum of ..."
Portia heard the amount and almost fainted.
"This sum will be divided and paid to you annually for the next five years. Do you agree to this?".
Portia wasn't sure what to say.
"Lady Featherington, do you hear me?", asked the notary, called Mr Brunson.
"Yes. yes... of course. I fully agree to the terms," she mumbled quickly.
"Will you sign here then?" asked Brunson and with a quick manoeuvre of her right hand, Portia had signed.
Rich. Portia Featherington was rich. No more money worries for the rest of her life, if of course she had managed her finances though and she intended to, she knew how to manage money better than any man.
They returned triumphantly to London and Penelope knew it would not be long before the news would be known, partly because of her mother, of course. She was therefore not surprised to receive an invitation from the Carlyle's, although she did not want to go. She suspected that the Bridgerton's had also received an invitation and Penelope had no desire to see Colin fawning over Melinda.
She was confused about Colin, it was obvious, at least it seemed that way, that he did not happen to be in the park that day. The way he had been behaving even more puzzled her, she picked up an anomaly against Lord Fife that she had not picked up before.
He had written to her while she was away, but it had been a concise note saying that he hoped her aunt would get well soon but other than that... nothing.
Maybe he didn't think it was appropriate to write more, she did receive letters from Eloise, however. They would see each other again today for the first time after all those weeks apart and looked forward to it.
There was someone else there... who she wondered if he would be present... she hadn't seen him after the debacle either, Lord Fife. That one freaked her out even more, his intentions at least, she couldn't place it very well, half the times she thought about it Penelope concluded that he didn't mean it seriously, was 'courting' this perhaps mocking her and playing games with her but there was a small voice somewhere inside her that said that a connection had been established that day. And that when they locked eyes something had happened that perhaps neither of them could quite place.
She put the ludicrous idea out of her mind. Lord Fife was not serious about her, it was obvious it was a joke to him, perhaps he had been urged by the rest of the 'gentlemen' to pull this cruel prank on her. She didn't have more time to ponder it because the next moment she heard:
"Penelope Featherington, quit your daydreaming and come downstairs now," she heard her mother call out. She took another look in the mirror and saw that the dark green silk dress, embellished with gold wire decorations accentuated her complexion and hair well and the green chamois in her earrings were a good match with her garment. Somehow, her mother had turned around and given her more 'freedom' in choosing her attire and Penelope had immediately banished the sunshine yellow dresses to the attic.
Portia looked at her ensemble and her face shifted into that one of slight disapproval hours but said nothing when she came downstairs. When she arrived after a twenty-minute trip, Penelope feasted her eyes.
The Carlyle residence was imposing, almost as imposing as Aubrey Hall and had an almost equally long driveway lit with torches on both sides. The building in the distance was the closer they got, the more beautiful, built of white marble, with wide columns at the front, an ode to Roman architecture. It did not seem to fit in London this structure but on the other hand it did, it was majestic and magical to behold, Penelope felt like she had entered a fairy tale.
They were kindly greeted by the hosts before walking through to a ballroom that was fit for a king. With paintings and intricate sculptures adorning it, the room reminded her of a museum, not that Penelope had ever been to one, but she suspected one to look like this.
"Portia!" let out Lady Cowper, running to her friends to give them two faux kisses on either side of her cheeks.
"It is lovely to see you, I can tell" and Lady Cowper let her eyes pass over Portia's body and dress "that the countryside has done you good".
It was a sneer, Penelope knew, her mother had gained some weight but not that much either.
"Thank you" Portia replied with gritted teeth.
" I must say I didn't expect to see you Didn't your aunt die only recently?", Sarah asked.
"Great aunt and she died three weeks ago, we stayed longer to help the staff get different positions elsewhere and took care of Petunia's affairs ", Portia lied.
"We have already gone through the obligatory mourning period of 21 days and my poor girls," Portia glanced back "needed some distraction. They've been so sad lately".
"Ah, I see. Then I hope you will enjoy yourselves then" said Sarah with the fakest smile Penelope had ever seen, which her mother replicated.
It was only when they were out of ear sight Portia angrily expressed that "That dreadful woman should mind her own business!".
The majority of the guests finally arrived and Mr Carlyle, declared the ball open but the Bridgerton's had not yet arrived, however. Penelope looked worriedly at the entrance to the ballroom but after a few minutes her worries seemed to be for naught as she saw Eloise, with a scowl on her face that would scare many a suitor away immediately. The expression changed as soon as she saw Penelope.
"Pen" she called out and then hugged her best friend.
"Let's catch up right away", Eloise suggested. "I have so much to tell you".
"Eloise, no" reprimanded Violet Bridgerton.
"I would love it if you at least tried to dance with someone today", Violet continued.
"I would reckon those odds are rather slim" replied Eloise.
"Eloise.." sighed Violet.
"Fine, I will try but I haven't seen Penelope for ages, can I have a conversation with her first?" she exclaimed with displeasure.
Violet glanced at Penelope and conceded.
"Welcome back Penelope, it is good to see again".
"Thank you Mrs. Bridgerton and likewise." she replied with a smile.
"My condolences regarding the loss in your family" Violet continued to which Penelope nodded and smiled briefly as acknowledgement.
"Where are your brothers, they were right behind us. Oh, there they are. And there is Lady Carlyle, come along Eloise, we haven't greeted her yet, it would be rude not to say hello. You can chitchat with Penelope after" said Violet and before Eloise knew it she was dragged away and moving to the other side of the ballroom.
Benedict and Colin walked into the room, sans Anthony and his wife Kate, she suspected that their absence could be explained by the fact that Kate was with child.
A feeling of nervousness instantly overwhelmed Penelope as Colin and Benedict Bridgerton came closer. Both greeted her politely and offered their condolences and then Benedict walked away as he spotted a friend he hadn't seen in a while.
"Pen" greeted Colin.
"Hello Colin."
"It is good to see you.. We missed you... I mean Eloise missed you," he corrected himself.
"I missed you too, I mean I missed Eloise too", she corrected herself, awkwardly and then quickly changed the subject.
"The.. Carlyle estate is so beautiful, wouldn't you agree? "..
" Absolutely. This is one of the most beautiful buildings I've seen... but"
"Aubrey Hall is better" finished Pen for him.
"You read my mind" replied Colin smiling.
"Listen Pen, would you like to have a dance la-..."
"Bridgerton, hello" he abruptly heard him say and turned to the person who greeted him.
"Fife," Colin exclaimed in surprise.
Robert walked up to him and shook his hand roughly.
"How have you been?" asked Robert 'kindly'.
"Great, erm and how are you? " stammered Colin.
"Splendid but I am a bit worried at the moment for your sake. I noticed you standing here with miss Featherington" and with those part of his sentence he stared at her with those piecing blue eyes, the sudden movement taken her a bit back.
"I thought you would like to know that people are looking into your direction and whispering which I suspect is never a good thing".
He was right, Pen could tell, people had been looking in their direction and talking about them, a quick glance around the crowd was proof enough. She mumbled a brief goodbye and then made to leave, walking as fast as she could to her sisters.
"Right, thank you... er Fife".
"You're most welcome, my boy " Fife said and tapped Colin's shoulder as she left, a little too hard probably than he should have.
It was nice to catch up with Eloise, but Pen's head was not quite there she had to confess. Colin didn't ask her to dance even though he had alluded to wanting to. She supposed the incident just now was the prelude to that, that he was still embarrassed and was now deliberately avoiding her, which was understandable.
However, when she saw him heading towards Melinda Carlyle, her confidence sank even more. She watched as he effortlessly guided her through the dance, smiling at her and there was something in that expression that told her that Colin was smitten with her. However, she could not fathom that the feelings however were not mutual, that to Melinda Colin Bridgerton was one of many other suitors with whom she lacked a 'spark'. Nice, certainly. Charming, certainly. Attraction? No.
It was too much for Penelope too handle and with an excuse that she had to go to the toilet, she excused herself.
Only she had no idea that where the ladies' room could be located and, lost in one of the many, many corridors or the estate, got slightly panicked. What she did not know was that she was in the left wing instead of the right; she had in fact 'walked around' the building and ended up in a different place than she should have.
She opened a door and entered the room quickly only to realise quickly that she had walked the wrong way once more. Instead of a corridor leading to the ballroom she had ended up in a library. up in a library.
"Is it me or do you have a tendency of wondering off too much and getting lost in the process?... " someone asked. She turned around slowly as she recognised the voice.
"Lord Fife."
"Miss Featherington" he greeted, taking her in.
"Well?" he asked to which Penelope blinked in confusion.
"I don't understand, my Lord".
"Am I right? Do you get lost easily?" he asked with a slightly amused undertone.
"I suppose so" admitted Penelope awkwardly..
"I would be more than happy to escort you back if you wish", Robert suggested.
"That will be not necessary".
"Why because I am not Colin Bridgerton?" he countered and without Robert knowing there was a hint of annoyance in the question.
For the second time tonight, her cheeks felt warm with embarrassment.
"Colin is a friend", she replied weakly.
"And I am not I suppose?" he asked. Was she going crazy, or could she detect hurt in his eyes?
"I didn't say that".
There was a brief silence between them following that statement, as if both needed time to analyse said statement.
"May I ask what you are doing here? Shouldn't you be inside as well?".
"I will answer your question. Same as always, wanted to escape the insipid crowd for bit and did some wondering off myself." he smiled.
"Although I suspect your reason might differ to mine ", Robert reasoned.
"What do you mean by that?", Penelope wanted to know.
"Miss Carlyle dancing with the aforementioned Mr Bridgerton, I presume".
"That has nothing to do with it, Penelope argued weakly "and I don't see how it is any of your business, my Lord."
"You're right but maybe.. just maybe you deserve better than someone that doesn't see what is in front of him."
Penelope took a deep breath to garner some courage as the following words she was going to say might be considered impolite.
"It is a good thing that we ran into each other, I have thought about.. whatever is going on with you and I and I have concluded that whatever your intention is, it will likely not benefit me but rather you."
"Do you really think so?."
"I don't think you are being genuine," she followed up with, with hesitation in her voice. He pondered about her statement for a while before he answered.
"I would tell you the truth, but the question is. Do you want to know the truth?" he asked, warning her.
He was daring her, she realised, and she was wrong to entertain the notion, to entertain him this way but she nodded decidedly. Robert stepped closer and saw that she wanted to retreat.
"Don't move" he demanded, and it was enough to make her stand still at the spot. When he reached her she didn't move either. She shivered at their proximity but somehow, Penelope didn't feel scared, apprehensive perhaps, frightened no.
He was really standing right in front of her now. She didn't look at him but was breathing rapidly and it caused her chest to rise and fall, he noticed as he bent closer to her, to even more close their distance.
"Here's the truth" he whispered in her ear or close to it, their height difference proven to be difficult.
Her breath hitched in anticipation.
"I find you fascinating. There is something mysterious about you, as if you're not quite who you seem to be. I've watched you many times. You may stand in the corner but you're observant, as if you're always listening in. You are intelligent, perhaps highly so but people don't notice that. You see, Colin might not have noticed. Your family might not have noticed, none of the ton might have but I... ", he slowly reached for her chin so she would face him" I do. I notice you, Penelope even if everyone else doesn't ", Robert whispered.
His finger was still rested on her chin, and he looked at her, intently, once more.
They were nearing an edge they couldn't come back from and the sentiment currently experienced by both of them was pushing them closer and towards the precipice.
This time, there was something inescapable between them... they had shared long gazes before but each time there was a barrier but not now. The attraction between them was undeniable So when he got the feeling again that he wanted, no needed to kiss her, he slowly bent forward but didn't kiss her yet. He stopped last second, wanting to make sure he wasn't forcing her into doing something she didn't want to.
However, the way she stared at him at the moment, it were not looks of dread but anticipation and curiosity. It prompted him to continue as he couldn't hold back any longer.
When he bent forward and established contact with her lips it was a lovely, lovely sensation. Her lips were plump and tasted sweet, enticing him to taste more, revel in the way her mouth was pressed onto his. It felt right this, he felt. It felt right like this was exactly how things should be.
She didn't kiss him back initially but when she shyly did it was the most wonderful experience.
He was closing to losing control as he wanted increasingly more but just when he was about to take more he heard:
"What the hell is going on here?".
Both heavily startled and spooked they retreated to see standing there right in front of them none other than Anthony Bridgerton.