OOla, I am back. A few things, arrogant, cheeky Fife ahead, well a bit. It was suggested in the comments that Robert's father should be responsible for all the illegitimate children so I took that idea and ran with it, thank you so much btw for the suggestion.

It did mean I had to provide context and write about Senior Fife's nasty behaviour.

Many thanks to Felicitiousone for coming with the ship name 'Fifington', which is much better than my PeFife or FiPen (which sounds like a medicine). Slight Polin references in this one but again, this won't be a Polin fic. If you wish to stick around then be my guest. As always sorry for strange wordflow , unfortunately not a Brit and I struggled a bit with the 'tone' for this chapter..

Writing does take a LOT of my time so my apologies if updates are a bit slow, especially since I have like 7 WIPS or something. Does that stop me from wanting to write a Kanthony modern era fic where Anthony and Kate are solicitors, going head to head in the courtroom, despising each other but having great hate love chemistry with each other?

"Oh, not you again", Anthony winced."Mr. Bridgerton.. Marvellous to see you, are you eager to experience yet another crushing blow to your frail ego of yours while I successfully every stupid argument you make?", Kate smiled sweetly.

No.

Does it stop me from wanting to write an Anthony x Sophie fic? Also no. Am I beyond redemption and incorrigible? Yes. Should I be slapped? Yes.

He didn't know why he was going to the ball as he could spend his time better than at yet another boring ball but Lord Cavendish, a friend of his father had personally invited him, and it would be rude not to go and he had to, since his father Reginald was in Scotland.

His father himself was not present and opted to spend his summers there, as he did every year, but Robert didn't mind at all. It saved him a sermon on how surely he really needed to get married and how Robert needed to ensure offspring so that the family name would live on which was ironic and quite hypocritical, coming from his father.

Robert knew there were already plenty of offspring running around, but they just weren't legitimate children. In the middle of winter last year, Robert discovered his father's dirty secret. Robert did not know how they had found out the address, but one day she was at his front door. Or, better said, she was already in his house. Mr. Chambers, the butler, was just escorting her out again when Robert ran down the stairs, alarmed by the ruckus he had heard.

There was a woman in the corridor currently screaming her lungs out, and Robert had to do something, though the motive behind it was not so noble; it was more about protecting his ears from the noise.

"Chambers, what is the meaning of this?" he had asked sternly. The butler's face turned pale before turning red.

"Nothing, my Lord... This lady has lost her way. I will deal with her shortly" Chambers mumbled. Robert looked at the woman; she was of small stature, her clothes were frayed, her hair was greasy, and she did not look too clean herself.

"That is not true! Please sir. Please hear me out! I have no money. My child and I are hungry. "Please," the woman exclaimed with tears permeating her voice.

Robert raised his eyebrows in annoyance. a beggar woman. He would have none of her audacity in allowing herself access to his home.

"You can turn to the poorhouses of London, ma'am, if you are hungry. I'm not sure what possessed you to come here, but we don't run a charity here. Will you escort her out, Chambers?" Fife asked.

Chambers, still feeling ashamed for his failure to respond adequately, resolutely grabbed the young woman's arm and pulled her along with him and Fife, not particularly wanting to see that the rest had already turned around again.

"Wait. Please listen. Your father! My son is his!" she had exclaimed, and this had caused Robert to turn around too abruptly.

A few minutes later, the woman was sitting in his study, hands clasped together in her lap, staring at the floor. Chambers came in, and Robert could see her carrying a tray with tea and scones. He served Robert first before reluctantly pouring the woman her tea and a scone.

The woman consumed the scone rather quickly, so she did not lie about being hungry before accepting with trembling hands.

"Thank you," she said in a murky voice, looking briefly at Robert. Robert nodded at her and then took her in attentively. This woman looked familiar to him, but she didn't know from where until the penny dropped, and he remembered very well where he remembered her from." Apparently he was more perceptive than he gave himself credit for.

"You worked in our factory, didn't you?", he concluded.

She looked up at him for a moment, startled, before returning to her eyes.

"What's your name?" He wanted to know.

"Eliza Brooks, sir," she replied, her voice trembling.

Robert sighed. Up close, she looked more like a girl than a woman; she looked young. young and frightened.

"How did you find out where I lived?" was his second question.

"I followed you once. I had to. Your father bars me from the factory when he is there which is almost never nowadays. I am sorry for going about things this way, but I needed to speak to you".

"Yes, you mentioned something earlier about your son and.. that he is my father's."

She swallowed a few times to hold back her tears. Something inside him said she was telling the truth, and he believed her, but he was deeply disappointed in his father. He was a scoundrel, especially when it came to women, but did he behave in this manner towards his staff too? Reginald Fife should have known better; this was a case of abuse of power and pure opportunism. It made his blood boil.

"I'm going to ask you a. question that may not be very appropriate, but I'd like to ask it anyway if you don't mind", Robert paused for a moment before continuing "but did he force you?".

Eliza shook her head, indicating that he did not, and a sense of relief swept over Robert.

"Tell me everything" Robert requested.

Reginald Fife had made sweet promises to entrap his young, naive employee and lured her into bed under the guise of their promise of marriage, which she had first grudged because of the age difference, and a promise that he was 'going to take care of her and her family'. 'We are getting married anyway' he had told her. The very next day Eliza was summoned to the office, where she met not Reginald Fife, but Mr Branbury, who gave her an envelope containing quite a bit of money, hush money she later realised, and further stated that she had been fired. When she asked about the reason, he indicated that she had been late several times which was a gross lie. What followed were months of misery, which first started with a realisation that she was pregnant, when she heavily vomited one day and remembered that her mother had done the same when she was pregnant with her little brother.

She had no option but to come clean with her parents, who were shocked but once then formulated the plan to pretend the baby was theirs. It was horrible, Eliza had to hide her pregnancy and her mother had to pretend she was pregnant, which was not easy for either woman. Eliza had tried a few more times to go back to the factory but she was always, harshly refused, until at one point she just gave up. The little boy was now 1 year old and was looked after by Maria Brooks, who had to stop working, which was not convenient because William Brooks, Eliza's father, could not earn an income as he had become disabled after an accident in construction. Eliza now worked as a kitchen maid in one of the elite houses, but it was not enough. Reginald's money had long since run out and the family was forced to borrow from loan sharks.

Robert was silent for a long time after hearing Eliza's story; her words had made a big impression on him. He had to do the right thing he realised, do what his father had failed to do, so he stood up, walked to the downstairs desk, took out a paper and a fountain pen and handed them to her.

"I want you to write down your address - including that of the company you are borrowing from now. I will pay off your loan and I will make sure you get a monthly allowance that will be sufficient but I need to make some arrangements first."

Eliza looked at him in disbelief and at the same time somewhat sceptical.

"I am a man of my word but should I fail to honour this one... you know where I live now..." he stated pragmatically.

"I really have to go now but I will instruct Chambers to take you home".

Eliza still said nothing but nodded meekly.

" You did right by coming here... I will do my best to help you. I will be in touch for now, goodbye" he stated. Then he turned and walked away but there was one question that stopped Robert from finally walking out of the room.

"What is his name? Your little son, what's his name?" he wanted to know.

"Christopher" replied Eliza. She watched him stand still for another moment, taking this answer in before leaving permanently.

Robert had his coachman to drive as quickly as possible to Surrey, where the textile mill was located. Arriving there, he walked in with a firm step and barged into Mr Branbury's office without budging, startling him from inspecting a statement of expenses more closely. Branbury then immediately stood up, adjusted his suit, put his glasses back and, probably out of nervousness, went through his already immaculate-looking hair to rearrange it.

"Your Grace. I wasn't expecting you until Thursday. What a pleasant surprise," Branbury mumbled quickly.

"Sorry to drop in so unexpectedly and without notice. I should know better; the same thing happened to me today," Robert sternly stated.

"Oh, well that's unfortunate I suppose but I don't really understand what you are trying to say, Your Grace.".

"Eliza. Eliza Brooks. You know her I believe". On hearing this statement, Branbury's eyes grew Large, and he became flustered instantly.

"Yes, I do I know her... she used to work here but I-".

"How many more?" Robert interrupted, doing so for the second time.

"How many what?" Branbury asked but he barely faced Robert while speaking, clearly wishing to avoid the issue.

"How many more former employees did my father lie to, deceive and got pregnant? I advise you, Mr. Branbury not to pretend to be unaware, because I know that you are aware".

Branbury let out an anxious breath and tried to calm himself down, somewhere Robert did feel sorry for him, he had only been carrying out orders, but they had been disgusting orders.

"You are placing me in an incredibly difficult position," Branbury began.

"I don't want to lose my job... my wife is expecting our second child... so please, don't force me to-".

"You are going to lose your job completely if you don't tell the truth now. I asked you something. How. Many. More?", Robert demanded to know.

"T.. There was a lady called Anna a few months back."

"That's it? Only one? Why don't I believe you? "asked Robert to which Branbury started shaking his head.

"I am telling the truth. Eliza and Anna, those are the employees of whom I am aware. What happened before I took over as manager here I couldn't possibly know about".

Branbury pointed out something he would rather not think about that his father had been playing this dirty game for much longer than he had expected and suddenly he was overwhelmed by the idea that there could a string of illegitimate children running around London.

"And how many children has Anna?", Robert inquired.

"I believe Anna has a daughter."

"I need you to listen carefully. You are going to find Theresa; you have her records somewhere anyway. I want you to give her an allowance a month from the company's profits, you will hear the final amount from me. Your boss, my father is not going to inform you about this, if there is anything you report to me and me alone. Is that clear"?

"Yes Sir."

"Perfect... Then I'll see you next week to discuss the rest of the details" and before Branbury knew it, Robert had walked out of the office.

He supposed, as he was on his way to go to the Cavendish's ball a year later after he had found out of his father's wrongdoings, that he was no better than Reginald. Had he not had fantasies of ruining Penelope Featherington? To get her into his bed? It was a thought that made him ashamed for a moment because he was equally hypocritical, equally calculating.

Robert stepped and walked towards the ballroom where he was greeted by the only Bridgerton he liked.

"Robert, fashionably late as always. Good to see you," this Bridgerton said extending him a hand.

"Likewise, Benedict", Robert said as he shook Benedict's hand, they exchanged some 'how do you do?' before continuing speaking to each other.

"Another evening.. another ball," Benedict expressed with a slight sense of fatigue in his voice.

"I know, luckily the season is coming to an end." Robert mused.

"Thank God, maybe now my mother will stop pestering me to marry."

"'Oh, so you feel the pressure so to speak?", Robert asked to which Benedict sighed.

"Ever since Anthony got married and in particular seems to be happily bereaved she will not get give me any rest", Benedict complained.

Ah, Robert thought. You don't know how fortunate you are. He would spend a small fortune to hear his mother's whining, yet again since he had lost her at an early age, when he was sixteen.

"I have no doubt she means well," Robert mused.

"I know she does, I do but.. I doubt her trying to push me in the direction of the umpteenth girl she deems fit for me will be efficient. I am looking for someone special and I don't know if I can't find her.. here.. around the ton. Does that make sense, or do I come across as an arrogant prick now?", Benedict wanted to know.

"No, Benedict, I get what you are saying, the part about looking for someone special, that is".

At that very moment, when he had barely finished the sentence, his eye fell on Penelope Featherington.

It was shaping up to be another lousy evening. Her mother had put her in godawful dress again, which was the colour of sunflowers to be understood, which clashed with her skin tone, and she looked like she was barely fifteen. No matter how many times she protested and wished to be dressed in a different colour, her mother wouldn't hear of it. Only to complain, after the umpteenth failure of a ball where her daughters could not secure a match, that they would all become old spinsters.

She had already heard Cressida chuckling as she entered and she was sure, that wrench would no doubt serve her two more thinly veiled insults tonight, under the guise of a compliment like "Penelope. Nice dress, your red hair is less noticeable now". or something along those lines.

Saving graces of the evening were the presence of the Bridgerton's, and Colin in particular. He had asked her to dance, much to her delight, and the following moments, dancing with him were the best of the evening and at the same time the most awful.

"Not in your wildest dreams, Fife" he had said, so casually, as if she were nobody. Before that, he had said she was "not a woman but his friend", another remark that had struck at the very core of her. However, her pride was a hindrance in confronting him, so she pretended like nothing was wrong.

"Penelope... what is going on? Why are you acting so aloof?" he had just asked her and for a moment her mask of friendly nonchalance fell off.

"What do you mean?" and she regretted it immediately after uttering the sentence because the last thing she wanted to do was go into this conversation.

"You've been acting cooly towards me lately; I couldn't help but take note... Did I maybe do something that caused you any grievance?", he asked concerned.

"Of course not. It's just that.. I am getting a bit weary of going to these balls every week. That's all".

Colin raised his eyebrows in disbelief and she could tell he didn't believe her, to be fair the excuse was rather insufficient but it was all she could come up with.

"Are you certain?," Colin pressed on.

"Yes."

"You would tell me if something was the matter, wouldn't you?", he followed up with.

"Naturally. We're friends after all aren't we?".

A few seconds before, the music had stopped which left them with no need to still stand together on the floor. They bowed politely to each other after which Penelope walked back to her family, at least that was the intention because she was accosted by a second Bridgerton, who pulled her hand towards her and whispered in her ears.

"Pen, I need your help! Mother wants to force me to dance because I have already refused two requests so far. Hide me please. I spotted a greenhouse, not far from here when we entered. Meet me there in five minutes. Mother is in conversation to Lady Danbury but she's been watching me all evening so we can't leave together. You go first but walk away casually please," Eloise Bridgerton said hurriedly.

Penelope looked around. She saw that Portia was busy talking to Lady Cowper, joined by Phillipa and her sister Prudence seemed to be staring cluelessly ahead, at something in the room. She could use a break herself, after that conversation with Colin and nodded affirmatively. She walked carefully away, past the people and then merged into the crowd and hit the exit of the hall. With a firm stride, she walked out and saw the green house, which was not far, as Eloise had said. She opened the door, stepped inside and just waited Eloise did not come. Penelope began to worry them a little. She was not sure what to do, she had promised to wait for her friend but she herself could not stay away forever she knew. She decided to wait just a few more minutes, inspecting some plants but when those minutes were up Penelope had her back turned to the door when she finally heard it open.

"Eloise, where have you been? I've been waiting for ages " but the one in front of her was not Eloise.

"Lord Fife".

"If you are referring to Eloise Bridgerton, she has left. There was a bit of a scene just now where she reprimanded her dance partner, apparently he said something she didn't quite like," Robert said evenly.

"Oh... Oh" she could only state, so that was why Eloise hadn't showed up.

"I could not trace you inside and suspected you were here. Well, it was a lucky guess rather, but I was proven to be right" he stated in a now more friendly tone.

"Miss Featherington, are you hearing what I am saying?" he asked after she still hadn't said anything

"Yes.. yes. Thank you for notifying me Lord Fife."

"It was my pleasure," he said while he was taken her in. Her dress was ugly yet on the other hand, the cut this one seemed to accentuate her curves a bit more and he couldn't help but notice that.

"I should return before they come searching for me" Penelope reasoned.

"Yes, you probably should because what if they find us, here, together" he replied with something of a smarmy expression on his face, referring to the other time they had met in the garden.

"I don't need to remind you of the possible ramifications, as I presented them to you last time".

"You did but just like last time I want to question these ramifications of yours", Robert argued.

"I am not certain what your reasons are for wanting to do so "she asked genuinely intrigued even though ever part of her questioned why she was still there and hadn't left yet.

"There are several reasons but the main one is that I've always found it more interesting to debate with someone than to agree with them but maybe that is a bad habit though. What do you think?."

"I think my opinion is irrelevant in this matter", Penelope countered.

"I disagree. See, I can't help myself", he smiled, and the smile was endearing but somewhere inside Penelope alarm bells went off, he couldn't possibly be sincere?

Not he who, if he only had to snap his fingers, had opinion woman at his feet, at least so she had heard, engaging in this kind of... behaviour with her. Something was not right and she suddenly felt herself getting angry, as if she was being played for a fool and she decided to confront him, whether it was rude or not.

"May I ask you a question, Lord Fife?" she began sternly, as she was the one stepping closer to him now, to his surprise.

"Certainly", Robert replied, slightly hesitant as he was unsure and yet curious at the same time.

"Why do you seek me out?", she asked.

"I don't", he lied.

"You do and I don't understand why," she exclaimed while facing him directly.

He could read uncertainty in her eyes, openness, timidity and vulnerability and he could not look away, no did not want to look away. There they stood, looking at each other, gazes locked in several moments until she looked away, realised how close she was to him and retreated quickly.

"Never mind", he heard her say, "never mind" she repeated, walking away, at least until he called after her, the words making her turn back.

"Miss Featherington.. I believe your card is not full yet, is it?" he had asked in an innocent manner.

"That.. is correct."

"Splendid, then I'll see you shortly," he said with determination.

"Who is to say that I will dance with you?,"

He grinned widely and when she saw his entire face lit up like that she felt a jolt of something she couldn't quite suppress go through her, unnerving her to her core, as she sensed herself getting warm all the sudden

Robert shook his head before replying with a slight smile, "Oh you will".

He turned out to be correct. Portia had practically pushed her into his arms when he asked and so she had little to take.

And so, a few minutes later, Lord Fife and Penelope were waltzing.

Murmurs could be heard from the people standing around them and he sensed it unnerved her, as she took deep breaths a few times.

"Don't mind them. Just, follow my lead." he suggested and as he said that he gripped her a bit firmer.

This was interesting, thought Portia. Quite interesting. Lord Fife wanted to dance with Penelope twice now. She supposed that it had an innocent reason, that he felt sorry for her... however, when she saw him watching her walk with a certain look as he sipped his whiskey, she resolutely did away with this idea.

Portia Featherington had the misfortune of growing up in a man's world and being of the 'wrong' sex. She was smarter than many a man, certainly smarter than her husband but had to spend years watching him squander the family fortune and make one stupid decision after another. When her husband died it was obviously sad for everyone involved, but it finally gave her the chance to lead her family the way she wanted. It was certainly difficult, on her own but she wasn't one to be underestimated as she could read people's intentions well.

And so she knew... that the look Lord Fife had just given her daughter had nothing to do with pity but with something entirely different.