A/N:PHEW HI! Man if you knew how I ran to edit this chapter (blame Nic and Newt man).
As always my dears, thank you so much for your lovely reviews, I deeply appreciate them.
I don't have much to say except...are we all in agreement Penelope has a lot to figure out about herself? we are, right?
"Why would you do that, mama?"
"Oh, Penelope, as if it matters at all," Portia remarked, her tone dripping with condescension, as she fanned herself and gazed out of the window. "You were indisposed, were you not? Shall you inform me that while I was compelled to offer countless apologies to the Bridgertons, you were in high spirits to procure frivolous gowns, yet lacked the inclination to attend the wedding?
Leaning back on her seat, Penelope let out an exasperated huff. Despite her daughter's clear disdain for the yellow dresses, her mother insisted that the maid pack them for the upcoming Bridgerton country visit. However, she couldn't exactly confront her without delving into the complicated matter of her scheme to evade Colin Bridgerton. She should be grateful that Portia believed her excuse of being ill and that she was able to choose her own dress for the ball that evening.
"And despite your protests, your change in attire did not really have any effect, did it?" Portia remarked with a smug grin, appraising Penelope's outfit for the evening. The girl had selected a gown of a delicate shade of pink, adorned with intricate floral patterns on the bodice, perfectly complementing the blossoms adorning her wavy hair. She hadn't worn pink in a while, but it was the heart and flowers ball, and if she was being truthful, she had missed the color.
"I told you I had a better grasp of the preferences of society, yet it seems that my words fall upon deaf ears." Portia continued, "And now, even Lord Debling has lost interest. Penelope, I am at a loss for what to do with you sincerely."
"I thought the blue dresses were quite beautiful," Mr Finch interjected unexpectedly, an innocent smile adorning his face.
It was strange; Penelope had no idea when or how, but her goofy brother-in-law had become one of her favourite family members in recent months.
"Thank you, Albion," she replied, nearly letting out a relieved sigh as her mother rolled her eyes and gazed out the window again. Penelope realised that it didn't matter whether she just had her yellow clothes now; it was unlikely for anything to change during that visit to the country. Her only task was to withstand it.
And avoid Colin.
Colin had a plan.
Whatever happened, he was determined to declare his love for Penelope on that very day.
Ideally, the moment her family arrived in Aubrey Hall, he would discreetly pull her aside and tell her, or he would meet her during the ball, ask for a dance, and then tell her. Regardless of the order of events, even if the world was turned upside down and the Queen of England herself forbade it, he would not waste another second without telling Penelope.
So within the next 24 hours, Penelope would learn that he loved her, and what she did with that knowledge was entirely up to her.
"You seem to be in better spirits today, brother," Benedict remarked as he poured himself a drink. He lifted the bottle to pour Colin a drink, but the younger Bridgerton swiftly covered his glass with his hand to prevent him. The last thing he needed was another drink.
Benedict couldn't help but curl his lips into a sly smirk as he returned the bottle to its rightful place on the table. "You are truly fortunate that Francesca did not catch you, and that Mama chose to turn a blind eye to your entire day spent in slumber."
Colin resisted the urge to roll his eyes, realising that he was truly fortunate. He let out a sigh, then proceeded to pour himself a glass of water and drank it. Someone lightly patted his shoulder, and as he turned to face them, he realised that Anthony had joined them.
He grabbed a glass for himself as he looked at Colin from head to toe. His appearance was a complete departure from the dishevelled state he was in at Francesca's wedding; in fact, he looked the most put-together Anthony had ever seen him. The intricate silver swirls on his black tailcoat perfectly coordinated with his vest, creating an elegant ensemble. Furthermore, his previously messy hair had been meticulously combed to the side, completing his polished appearance.
"Ah, so you are capable of cleaning up," Anthony jested, his playful tone filling the room, and Benedict exchanged a glance between his two brothers, wondering if their feud had finally come to an end.
"Indeed, I was on the verge of inquiring if there were any noteworthy events occurring today." Benedict remarked, his arms crossed, and a glass held in his hand.
Colin responded with a scoff and a head shake before taking another drink of water.
"How intriguing, he did not deny it." Benedict gestured towards his brother, his gaze shifting to Anthony as he inquired, "Did you see that?"
With a knowing grin Anthony cast a sidelong glance at Colin before raising his glass to his lips. "I did see it," he said.
"There is nothing to deny. It is a ball, is it not a remarkable evening in its own right?" he remarked, his brothers both shaking their heads in disbelief.
"My, don't you look quite polished," Eloise's voice chimed in from the doorway, a playful smile dancing on her lips.
The three brothers gazed at her with astonishment, while Colin arched an eyebrow at the remarkably unexpected compliment from Eloise. However, she simply folded her arms and said, "May I have a word with you?"
Somehow, that filled him with worry. Every time Eloise wanted to have that kind of conversation with him, it was always about Penelope. He wondered if everything was alright with her, his mind racing with thoughts of what could have happened. Slowly nodding, he hurried to catch up with her, both ignoring their brother's inquisitive gazes.
"Eloise, what is the matter?" he inquired, gently grasping her arm as they found themselves in a deserted corridor.
She gazed into his anxious eyes and said, "Nothing. You need not worry." With a deep breath, she determined to go ahead with the decision she had come to in her mind. Despite being a devoted best friend at heart, Eloise could no longer endure witnessing Colin and Penelope continue to behave idiotically. "There is something I need to tell you."
Curiosity replaced Colin's usual worry as he tilted his head.
"Look, Colin, I do not presume to possess any knowledge of the affairs between you and Penelope. All I can say with certainty is that I am concerned about her… and you as well," she admitted with sincerity in her gaze, to Colin's genuine shock. Eloise rarely displayed such honesty towards him. "So you may choose to disregard what I am about to inform you or take action accordingly. The decision lies in your hands."
The weight of his silence as he listened to her spoke volumes, confirming her suspicions that something of significant was transpiring between her brother and her best friend. If it had been any other day, Colin would have adamantly refuted whatever insinuation she had made, or gracefully excused himself from the conversation. Instead, he remained and listened. In some way, that confirmed her decision to tell him was the correct one.
"Penelope has declined Lord Debling's marriage proposal," she said.
Colin had a mere second to absorb her statement. His brows creased and his voice cut through the silence, "What?"
Eloise simply shrugged. "That is all I came here to say," she stated. "Pen is prepared to depart for the Featherington country home following their visit, and the events that will unfold thereafter remain uncertain. After this ball, I shall stand by her side and support her in all her endeavours, even if it entails a life far removed from London. Unless you persuade her to choose a different course of action."
With that, Eloise abruptly ended the conversation, leaving Colin bewildered and at a loss for words.
She did not need to instruct him what to do; he already knew. But what surprised him was that Eloise thought he had any influence over Penelope's actions whatsoever, when he knew he didn't.
Still, she had lied to him about Debling, and maybe he should be investigating what that was all about.
"It pains me to say it, but my brother was entirely correct."
"El!" Penelope's heart skipped a beat as Eloise discovered her at the corner of the ballroom.
The brunette appeared unfazed by the surprise she had caused her friend, opting to remain by her side, swaying on her heels as she observed the room. "Cressida Cowper is not in attendance," she remarked.
Assessing the crowd with a swift gaze, the writer's eyes confirmed Eloise's assessment. "And this demonstrates that your brother is correct in what way?" she inquired, savouring her beverage as if she were utterly indifferent to the matter at hand; or to the brother in question.
Eloise cocked her head and remarked, "He said you are smart."
Penelope quickly looked at her, her facade of indifference shattered. "I must concur with him, for it seems that Cressida's reputation has been greatly besmirched. It appears that she entered into a hasty engagement with Lord Trombley, as she had no more suitable alternatives."
With her lips pressed against the glass once again, Penelope nodded in agreement. She knew exactly how she had retaliated. Just as Eloise knew Penelope was not asking her about Colin on purpose.
"You wouldn't happen to be avoiding my brother, would you?"
Pausing momentarily, Penelope let out a forced chuckle, her hand nervously scratching the back of her head, as she quickly assured, "No, certainly not."
As Eloise linked their arms together, she raised an eyebrow and said, "If you say so. However, I must say that it has been quite a while since I last had to search for you in the corners of a ballroom, Pen."
Penelope shook her head, rejecting the notion, even though it was right on. To be honest, with everything going on, Penelope felt like she was standing precisely where she belonged, where she was comfortable.
"But since this subject is forbidden this week, allow me to introduce the next one: what do you intend to do now that the season is drawing to a close?" Eloise asked as she casually surveyed the crowd, making sure not to draw attention to their significant conversation.
The other girl let out a breath, "For the time being, I shall retreat to our country house with my mama. Regarding the upcoming year… I am uncertain. It is unlikely that I will participate in the London season again."
Indeed, Eloise had surmised as such. Nonetheless, it would not hurt to try to change her mind.
"What about your writing? Shall you forsake it entirely?" she inquired.
Penelope tilted her head. "It depends on what you consider to be my writing," she said, prompting Eloise to furrow her brows and turn towards her for further explanation. "By now, Eloise, you must be aware that I cannot continue doing what I do for the remainder of my life. Even more now, with the increasing number of people…" she hesitated, refraining from explicitly saying that many were aware of her identity. "I believe it is time for me to start living my own life and stop dwelling on the lives of others."
Indeed, she was correct; Eloise arrived at that conclusion. Yet, she could not help but acknowledge the other realisation she had reached during that particular season.
"But, Pen, I thought you had a great passion for writing," she said.
Penelope let out a small chuckle, "I do. Rest assured, I have no intention of ceasing my writing. Writing manifests in various forms; for us writers, the compulsion to write is as unyielding as our need to breathe at times. Your brother can tell you that."
"My brother," Eloise questioned, her eyebrows knit together. She was logically aware that Penelope could only be discussing Colin, but she was unsure of how he could possibly comprehend what it meant to be a writer.
Wincing slightly as she realised her slip, Penelope bit her bottom lip and said, "Don't tell him I told you that."
Right. Another addition to the long list of confusing things surrounding those two, Eloise thought. However, before she could make any comments, she glanced behind Penelope and realised there was no need to.
She observed with a weary grin as Colin approached, having located them at last. Eloise said, "Speaking of him," and then playfully glanced at Penelope, ready to tease her.
Yet, as she turned her gaze towards her friend, she immediately noticed the fear in her eyes, which were fixated on something else behind Eloise.
"Why is she here?"
As Eloise turned around, she was prepared to perhaps encounter Cressida or any other of her dreadful friends. What she did not expect was to see the Queen of England enter the Audrey Hall Ballroom.
"I... I do not know," Eloise trailed off, her mind racing with countless scenarios as to why she would be attending that ball. And none of them were good. "I assure you, Pen, that I was not aware, otherwise I would have—"
She paused whatever she was going to say and turned to Penelope, saying, "We must get you out of here immediately."
Raising her head, Eloise scanned the crowd for the person who had unexpectedly transformed into her partner in crime. Colin had stopped halfway on the path to them, his eyes fixed on the Queen, mirroring the same mixture of confusion and horror she had felt.
"Wait here and remain still," Eloise told Penelope, then she went after Colin.
By the time she reached him, he was already staring at her with a perplexed expression. "Were you aware of this, Eloise?"
She almost huffed in indignation, feeling as though she didn't even have the time to be exasperated with him. "Clearly not, or else I wouldn't have allowed Pen to set foot in Aubrey Hall. Colin, we need to help her hide. Immediately."
With his jaw clenched, Colin gave a simple nod. Together, they turned and headed towards Penelope. Little did they know that they would never have the chance to reach her.
Every part of Penelope's body felt paralyzed. Eloise kept talking, and the redhead nodded, unsure what she was agreeing to. Since all she could think of was the sentence not now, please not now, which kept repeating itself in her thoughts. Because she knew. When she saw the Queen, she knew she had reached the finish line.
She knew it because the Queen was staring at her.
Eloise then left, leaving Penelope with the instruction to wait. However, the girl glanced at the door on her left and couldn't help but find it incredibly enticing. The only question was whether she could make her escape in time.
"Good evening," Queen Charlotte greeted, her regal presence commanding the room's attention. "I must convey my genuine delight in having the honour of attending this grand gathering, a traditional ball of the highest calibre, generously hosted by the esteemed Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton," she remarked with a pleasant smile, gesturing towards Violet, who radiated joy at the mention. "Contrary to any accusations, I am far from reluctant to attend these balls. On the contrary, it brings me great delight to be here. In fact, I have chosen this very day to make the most significant announcement of the season. I am delighted to announce that I have discovered my most cherished gem, after an extensive search among numerous accomplished ladies."
That certainly caused quite a stir among the attendees, for the queen's revelation of a diamond at the final ball of the season was deemed highly peculiar, not to mention unnecessary. Penelope's heart raced within her chest as she gracefully made her way towards the exit, her steps measured and inconspicuous. Despite her efforts, a glimmer of hope flickered within her, whispering that perhaps this was all a grave misunderstanding. Perhaps the queen was simply displaying her typical eccentric behaviour.
"So allow it to now be my honour to present to you the season's emerald." She extended her arm and pointed directly to the spot where Penelope stood. "Miss Penelope Featherington." Penelope had exactly one second for her heartbeat to stop, one second to capture the sight of dozens of faces turning towards her, before the Queen's lips moved again. "Or, as some of you may know her better, Lady Whistledown."
It was not as if time had stopped.
It was as if the situation was so absurd that Penelope felt as though time itself was a figment of her imagination.
Never before had she experienced such scrutiny, with countless eyes observing her every detail, from the tiniest strand of hair to the smallest imperfection on her shoe. Her cheeks flushed and she gasped for breath, completely unable to control it. With every face in the room contorting from surprise to disgust, she was reminded once again of her own naivety and insignificance.
What was she thinking?
What ever prompted her to believe that her life might be different? Ensnared in her fantastical reveries of grandeur, where her every word and thought had weight, where her existence held significance. She was not Lady Whistledown; she was Penelope Featherington, the third daughter of a ludicrous family. And even within that family, she held no significance. Penelope Featherington, with her voice resembling that of a child, her outdated and ridiculous curls, her unattractive face, and her opinions that hold no relevance. She had never truly found her place, always overlooked and disregarded; forever the unnoticed figure lingering by the wall, at best, or the subject of ridicule, at worst. And this, this was the worst of all.
Penelope recalled the moment when Cressida revealed herself as Lady Whistledown. With a bold expression on her face, she looked as if she were Lady Whistledown herself, completely unashamed. And perhaps she indeed had nothing to be ashamed of, because despite everyone's shock at the time, there was no hint of disgust or mockery in anyone's expressions.
Which wasn't the case at that very moment.
As Penelope's blood chilled, rendering her fingertips devoid of sensation, her eyes diligently absorbed each and every expression present in the room. How the betrayal was evident on the faces of those who knew her well - the Bridgertons, her own family, and even Lord Debling. How everyone's expressions morphed into disgust as if they had caught a whiff of something truly putrid. Some of them could not stop laughing condescendingly at her expense, whispering to one another as they did.
The Featherington girl? That greatly clarifies the matter.I cannot fathom how invested I became in her words. What else would an individual with such an unattractive appearance possibly provide? Could you not believe that girl's nerve? It seems that even the lowliest of individuals possess a certain level of courage these days.
But she didn't, she had no courage. After years of hiding behind a quill, Penelope finally came to the realisation that she had always been the person everyone believed her to be. Just a scared little girl, huddled in her ridiculous yellow dresses.
So she ran.
And as the room devolved into complete chaos, Queen Charlotte smiled with satisfaction.
"My Queen, if I may," Lady Danbury interjected amidst the cacophony of the ballroom, "She is but merely nine-and-ten, surely—"
"Nine-and-ten and she is already challenging the crown," Charlotte abruptly interrupted. "Her future certainly appears bright," she further stated with cynicism.
Lady Danbury's usual fake pleasant smile transformed into a worried expression, one that Charlotte recognized all too easily.
"Fear not, Lady Danburry. Although she, you, and everyone else may consider me foolish, I can assure you that I am anything but," she declared, her astute gaze sweeping over the enraged crowd. "I shall not take any action against the young lady. Did she not long to pass judgement on society during her moments of leisure? Now I shall leave it to society to pass judgement upon her. That is her penalty."
Upon glancing across the room, Agatha was certain that that was, in fact, a severe penalty. Unlike the night when Cressida Cowper revealed herself amidst loud and animated surprise, now the air was filled with the sound of heated arguments and actual revolt. People had cornered Portia Featherington, along with her second daughter and her husband, demanding explanations that they seemed unable to provide. The hosts of the ball appeared unsure of how to proceed. Violet's eyes darted from left to right, taking in the room with a perplexed expression, her usual crisis averting smile nowhere to be found. Her children, frozen in place across the ballroom, wore expressions of equal astonishment. The pandemonium was established, and it appeared that people, for the first time, accepted the Lady Whistledown revelation—after all, it had been issued by the Queen herself. And nothing could be done to reverse the situation.
"Do not believe I failed to notice your lack of surprise,Lady Danbury," Charlotte continued, her tone sharp and determined, capturing the widow's attention once again. "Have you known for how long?"
In surprise, Agatha turned towards her. Unsure of how to respond, she hesitated.
If she were foolish, she would acknowledge that it had been a few months since she realised there weren't many possibilities as to who it could be. The sad reality was that the society lacked the necessary number of intelligent individuals capable of assuming the role of Lady Whistledown. Lady Danbury was only drawn away from Penelope's trail because she was so shy. However, as more people were removed from her suspect lists over time, the Featherington girl remained. That season, however, made things abundantly clear. For starters, she was brave enough to oppose her boisterous mother and her terrible fashion sense. Then it became apparent that despite her frail appearance, the girl was capable of asserting herself. Moreover, if her exchanges with Colin Bridgerton were any indication, she possessed the Lady Whistledown sharp tongue as well.
Once Cressida Cowper, ridiculous as she was, lied about being Lady Whistledown, it wasn't hard to connect the dots. Any fool who initially believed her could not possibly be Lady Whistledown. That eliminated nearly everyone else from her list, with the exception of Eloise Bridgerton and Penelope Featherington. However, Agatha knew for certain that it could not be Eloise, given her scandal from the previous season.
It was a sombre realisation that the season of Penelope's newfound openness also marked the end of her concealed secret. Agatha could only hope that Penelope, who had begun the season by deciding to be brave, would end it on the same note.
"I did not, my Queen," she lied. "Had I been aware, I would have promptly informed you."
"Certainly," Charlotte replied, her disbelief evident.
Eloise could not recall the last time the world had descended into chaos so quickly. Eloise believed she understood what turmoil was when Cressida made her deceitful announcement. Yet, in that precise moment, it dawned on her... now this appeared to be a true Lady Whistledown revelation.
The room was filled with a cacophony of voices, growing in volume as people shuffled about, bumping into each other in their haste. Amidst the chaos, heated arguments erupted among the guests. Accusations flew, with some questioning the veracity of Lady Whistledown's words. Others directed their anger towards her mother or even Anthony, as if they had foreseen the impending turmoil at the ball. However, it was the Featheringtons who faced the harshest consequences, as they were enclosed by a gathering, with Portia, in a state of disorientation, repeatedly shaking her head, completely caught off guard by the news. But Eloise had little time to contemplate such matters, as she was needed to assist her friend. And it was at that moment that she realised Colin was no longer by her side.
She quickly rushed to the spot where Penelope had been, but unfortunately, her best friend was nowhere to be found. She could only catch a glimpse of Colin's leg as he made his way out through the left exit door. Following him, they quickly arrived at an empty hallway, the loud voices within the ballroom ringing against the quiet.
"Can you see her?"
She then noticed Colin had his hands covering his face, his voice muffled as he replied, "No," dropping his hands as he took a deep breath, "We must locate her, Eloise."
"I am well aware of that," she commented with irritation, as she proceeded towards Penelope's guest quarters in Aubrey Hall, accompanied by Colin.
Opening the door, she was met with a pitch-black room and the sound of a gentle breeze flowing through the partially open window. Eloise walked slowly to the window, closing it with a bitter realization that the wind had opened it, and it was now getting stronger, indicating the imminent rain.
With his breath catching in his throat, Colin looked around the empty room, his eyes filled with despair. He then looked at Eloise, a silent understanding passing between them, the room plunged into darkness except for the occasional flicker of lightning outside.
"What do you think the Queen will do?" he asked.
"I do not... I cannot say," Eloise said. In truth, she was too stunned by the events that unfolded to even begin to analyse the Queen's actions.
Colin didn't seem to be any better than her; if anything, he seemed to be worse. His hair, once perfectly combed, now lay in disarray as he ran his hand through it in frustration. His cravat, barely clinging to his neck, threatened to fly off as he anxiously tugged on it.
"We need to find her, Eloise. We cannot allow her to leave like this," Colin stated, his voice trembling with desperation. "I need—"
"We will," she promised, taking a step forward to provide reassurance to her clearly distressed brother. "Penelope is familiar with Aubrey Hall, so she knows potential hiding spots here, but so do we. Even if we have to search every inch of this property, we will find her."
He nodded. They would find her because he needed to, because if she escaped and was never seen again, he would lose his mind. A thunderous boom echoed outside the window, and the lightning that followed appeared to taunt him directly.
"Let us begin our search indoors," he murmured, still gazing at the gloomy sky.
"We shall accomplish more in a shorter amount of time if we separate," Eloise suggested. "Once we have located her, we shall convene and devise a plan for our next course of action."
Colin agreed, then they went in opposite directions. However, he had doubts about whether he would actually meet Eloise afterwards.
In truth, upon witnessing the Queen's entrance into the ballroom and the revelation of Penelope's identity as Lady Whistledown to the entire society, he was overwhelmed with unwavering resolve. Right at that very moment when it seemed like everything had reached a conclusion, so had he.
And it was that wherever Penelope decided to go, he would follow.
If she chose to remain and confront everything - the queen, her family, his family, and everyone else - he would also stay. However, should she wish to flee to a nation so remote that he would no longer be able to understand their language, he would accompany her without hesitation. Even if it meant leaving everything behind forever, even if it meant tarnishing his family name with shame.
None of those things were important to him; all he cared about was having her by his side. And it might have taken him forever to realise it, but he did now, and he was not about to lose her.
Still, repeating that in his head, he discovered empty chamber after empty chamber. At each dead end, desperation gnawed at his nerves until he found himself peering under beds and into closets, startling the kitchen maids as he looked under every single table. He shed his coat, throwing it haphazardly at an armchair in the drawing room as he searched for her, followed by his vest and cravat, which he threw over his bed as he returned upstairs to look for her in the rooms again. He sank to the floor beside his bed, his face buried in his hands, attempting to regain his composure. Outside the window, the sun was slowly ascending and the noise of guests leaving their property echoed in his ears, a reminder of the hours that had slipped away without finding Penelope.
However, if the guests were leaving, it meant that the rain was easing up, and they could finally depart in their carriages. Standing up, he made his way outside to the gardens, trying to push aside the overwhelming despair in his heart. The silence that engulfed Aubrey Hall only amplified his unease. It was evident that the magnitude of the scandal warranted the complete cancellation of the post-ball country visit.
Upon stepping outside, he couldn't help but feel like a complete idiot, desperately combing through the surroundings, convinced that Penelope would somehow be hiding among the trees or within the bushes. But it was better than admitting the truth: that she had managed to escape undetected, right under their noses. That this time, he had lost her for good.
What added to the frustration was the fact that it made very little sense. It had been pouring heavily the entire night, so he was completely incapable of comprehending how she had located a carriage and managed to escape. But, where else could she be? Inhaling deeply, he let the chilly drizzle bring him a sense of calm as he admired the sunrise and its reflection on the nearby lake.
Then he realised he was a complete idiot.
In a sudden frenzy, he dashed towards the deserted gazebo by the lake, his heart pounding with wild abandon. The fact that Penelope's favourite place growing up had slipped his mind was a perplexing mystery, but he had no time to ponder it. At that point, his white shirt was clinging to his skin due to the drizzle, but Colin was far from concerned about something as trivial as a cold when faced with the prospect of never seeing the love of his life again.
As he neared the gazebo, he let out a sigh of relief so powerful that it caused him to stop in his tracks. He bent over, resting his hands on his thighs, and took a long, deep breath. Because sitting atop its stone railing, there was a pink bundle that he immediately recognised as Penelope.
After the most stressful night of his life, he walked towards her with slow, deliberate steps, finally feeling a sense of calm wash over him. Penelope had her legs crossed, her arms folded on top of them, hiding her face from sight. As she lifted her head to dry her tears, she caught a glimpse of Colin approaching.
"Pen," he said, his voice catching on his throat. Unspoken were the lingering questions about where she had spent the entire night. He did notice a bag behind her on the floor, telling him she must have stopped by her room at least once.
As she wiped her cheeks, the vibrant redness of her hair seemed to mirror the flush on her face, creating a vivid contrast to the greyed sky. His eyes drank in the sight of her, and his heart quickened for a multitude of reasons that were completely different from before.
"Please," she said, her voice sounding congested, her eyes bloodshot and puffy, "I truly do not wish to hear it. I have no desire to hear a I told you so."
Colin hesitated, then he gently shook his head as he continued to draw nearer to her. He was definitely not going to say that.
Continuing, she said, "I do not require a reminder of the innumerable ways in which I have ruined aspects of my life, my family, and possibly even yours. Right now, all I need… is a distraction."
Her assumptions of what he was about to say almost made him chuckle. What he was thinking was more along the lines of I love you, I still want to marry you, and I'll accompany you wherever you go. Emotions that she was evidently unable to discern within him. However, if she required a diversion, he would willingly offer it to her. As he would, indeed, do anything for that woman.
Determined to take a chance, he reached out his hand to her once more, just like he had countless times before in their shared history. Penelope gazed at his hand, just like she had done in the drawing room, then shifted her gaze to his face, wearing a silent expression that could easily be interpreted as are you joking?
He replied with a shrug, "You requested a diversion."
And his claim that it was a mere diversion was only partially misleading, given that he had been eager to test a theory ever since Eloise informed him of Debling's rejected proposal. Considering their previous encounter in his drawing room, where they danced and he ended up kissing her, she had to make a choice: either acknowledge the situation and face the repercussions, or immediately express her disinterest in pursuing anything with him. If she genuinely wanted to escape whatever is between them, she should be honest with him rather than just saying yes.
However, Penelope glanced at his hand, as if gathering her courage, before rising from the railing and approaching him in the light rain, ultimately reaching out to hold his hand. In a single, fluid motion, he yanked her towards him, at which point she realised he had, in fact, been deceiving her. As his intention all along wasn't to dance with her, but to hold her in his arms.
As Colin's arms enveloped her, she pressed her face against his chest and muttered "Damn you" into his shirt, her tears streaming down her face and her shoulders trembling with sobs.
Tenderly, he cupped her head in one hand and held her tightly to his chest with the other, his voice a whisper as he reassured her, "Everything will be alright, Pen."
"It won't, Colin. I assure you, it won't." As she shook her head against his chest, she couldn't help but take comfort in the familiar temperature of his skin, a feeling that had become oddly familiar to her. "You have no business even being here, I will ruin you."
He ran his fingers through her hair, causing a pleasurable shiver to travel down her back, as he said, "That is truly unfortunate, for I have every intention of remaining faithfully by your side."
Pen was silenced instantly, and he could feel her take a deep breath against his chest. She then said, "You are not even supposed to be my friend any longer."
He chuckled slightly in response to that. "I'm not," he replied as he distanced himself from her and grasped one of her hands. "I assure you, I am not," he declared, before gracefully twirling her in the rain, as if he hadn't completely forgotten his silent promise to dance with her.
He tugged her towards him, their proximity nearly matching that of their previous embrace. Penelope's hands landed on his arms, providing a buffer to halt her from crashing into him. As she looked up at him, the air filled with the rhythmic sound of her breaths and the delicate patter of raindrops on the grass.
Penelope had this look in her eye, one that he now recognised incredibly well. A look of pure hunger, her pupils dilated as she fixed her gaze on his lips. An expression he knew would only appear when she wanted him to kiss her.
Except that had to end.
He couldn't continue being the one kissing her. He couldn't continue being the one to always start things between them.
So he bent over, gently pressing his forehead against hers. Pausing briefly, he shut his eyes and inhaled deeply. When he opened them, he said, "If there is anything you need, Miss Featherington, I suggest you retrieve it yourself."
Leaning away from her, he dared to smirk, his eyes glinting mischievously. Penelope's expression was filled with such indignation that it nearly provoked an honest laugh from him.
But then her expression shifted, becoming one of unwavering determination, and his face turned serious. Her hands trembled as she reached out and firmly seized his wet shirt, tugging him towards her with a mix of uncertainty and longing. The sight before him left him spellbound, as if all the kisses they had shared in the past hadn't fully conveyed the intensity of their connection, and in that moment, he finally grasped the impact they had on each other.
With those impossibly blue eyes fixed on him, she tugged on his shirt, as if to bring him down to her absurdly adorable low height. He obeyed, bending down towards her as she stood on her tiptoes, pulled him closer, and kissed him.
They shared a brief yet passionate kiss, and then she pulled back while he stood up straight, gazing at her intently. Penelope's eyes then went to his chest, unable to tear away from the sight of his wet shirt, which now clung to his body. As she touched his abdomen, her fingers traced the contours, seemingly captivated by the sight. He repressed a shiver in response to her touch, but continued to observe her, having practically dared her to do whatever she pleased.
Penelope's eyes remained fixed on him, her breathing heavy with indecision, which Colin found irresistibly cute. She pulled on his shirt again, as if making a choice, and beckoned him to bend down so she could kiss him again.
Her forehead then met his, and his gaze fixated on the delicate water droplets gliding along her neck.
"Colin," she said, pausing to collect herself, "I'm not sure if this has been said before, but you're excessively tall."
With their foreheads gently touching, he couldn't help but release a laugh. Which was a bizarre but marvellous development in their friendship. Whenever they found themselves in these types of situations, where they allowed their passions to take over, it often resulted in drama, irrationality, and confusion.
But now it wasn't confusing. Now it was just them kissing. And Colin felt more convinced than ever that this was how things were always meant to be.
"It is not funny, I am short," she said indignantly, almost making him laugh again.
"I have noticed, Pen," he said with such affection that it caused her cheeks to flush. Biting his bottom lip, he then warned her, "I am about to do something; please do not be alarmed. Should my actions be objectionable to you, I will stop."
She instinctively glanced upwards at him in surprise upon hearing his unexpected response, although her view was limited due to their foreheads being pressed together. She then nodded against him and he bent down.
She felt him touch both of her legs for a split second before they rose the contour of her legs outside her dress, pausing on her thighs before he pulled her up.A ridiculous shriek escaped Penelope's lips as she processed the shock of being lifted off the ground so suddenly and realising that Colin had a tight hold on her legs. Admittedly, there was a layer of fabric separating his arm from his legs, which she appreciated because it meant he didn't want to give her a heart attack just yet.
Placing her hands on his shoulders, she steadied herself before finally reaching his eye level. With her legs around his waist and her breathing becoming increasingly erratic, he met her gaze with his mesmerising eyes and breathlessly uttered a simple "Hi."
So she wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, entwined her legs around his waist, and kissed him once more. Slowly, he manoeuvred them backwards, until they reached the railing, where he carefully placed her. Her hands immediately found their way into his hair as she tilted her head, deepening their kiss. The cold raindrops and the previous lighthearted atmosphere were completely forgotten as her body instantly ignited with his touch, as it always did.
Adopting a tactic from his playbook, she planted a kiss on his jawline and continued to trail her lips down to his neck. She heard him emit a hiss, which was then followed by a hitch in his breath. It pleased her to realise that she, too, held power over him. Once again, her hands gently slid down his shirt, gripping the fabric tightly as she pulled him closer to her. Colin surprisingly seemed to have a better grasp of her desires than she did herself. He gently placed his hands on top of hers, guiding them down and under his shirt, allowing her to explore the contours of his abdomen to her heart's content.
In a leisurely manner, she ran her hands along his skin, sensing his shivering at the sensation of her touch. As their lips met once more, her hand began to trace his back, while her other hand slowly made its way up to rest on his chest, directly above his heart. She felt the fast thumping of it, entirely caused by her, and she parted her lips to intensify their kiss. With a low grunt escaping his lips, she felt her own breathing becoming increasingly erratic as she pulled him closer, craving his touch. As she leaned further forward, her nails digging into his back, she could feel his heart rate rising against her palm again.
In a moment of surprise, she pulled away from their kiss and gazed into his eyes, which held an intense fire that seemed to consume her, making her stomach catching her breath, she gently removed her hands from his torso and delicately cradled his face, captivated by him. In response to her touch, he subtly leaned in, causing her gaze to wander across his face, appreciating his yearning expression complemented by his striking cheekbones and captivating blue irises, resembling the beautifully stormy sky behind them.
"What is it?" He whispered, noticing the intensity in her thoughtful expression.
Affectionately, she lightly ran her thumbs over his cheeks. "Your eyes," she said, "They truly are the most remarkable shade of blue."
It was as if time had folded upon itself when Colin was abruptly transported to the Bridgerton drawing room, a million ages ago. A conversation between individuals who were merely pretending; a hypothetical compliment; not to be taken seriously.
And yet.
Before Colin knew it, his body surged forward, kissing her with such intensity that she slid backwards, her back pressed against the pillar. He cradled her head in his hand, bringing their faces so close Penelope was sure she would never need to breathe again.
As he leaned in, she instinctively uncrossed her legs from around his waist. His hands, in response, naturally moved to her ankles before slowly trailing up her smooth, bare legs. She let out a startled yelp, a mix of surprise and longing rising within her like a blazing fire, unintentionally giving Colin the wrong impression.
"I apologise, Pen," he withdrew his hands, "I—"
"No," she promptly responded, grasping his hands and returning them to their previous position. "It's just," she said, struggling to catch her breath, managing only two words at a time, "your hands are cold."
The corners of his lips curled up in a playful grin as he observed her flushed cheeks and dishevelled appearance. Without hesitation, he continued to kiss her against the pillar, his hands gradually moving higher and higher until they settled on her thighs, causing Penelope to let out a breathy gasp against his mouth. He tightened his grip on her thighs, drawing her closer, and felt a surge of heat course through his veins. She crossed her legs on his waist once more and wrapped her arms around his back, so tightly connected to him that she was nearly teetering off the railing. With each passing moment, her breaths grew more erratic, prompting Colin to plant a kiss on the spot below her earlobe, eliciting a groan from her. As he put his arm around her waist, pulling her closer, he leaned in to kiss her neck, knowing that she liked it.
With her eyes shut tight, she experienced a sensation of her nerves aflame, uncertain if her own lungs and heart could withstand the overwhelming intensity. But then she opened her eyes, and the world around her seemed to crumble in the most devastating way.
As she felt his lips against her skin, her arms went limp, unable to maintain their grip on him. "Colin," she managed to say, her voice filled with misery. "I... I have to leave."
"What?" Immediately, he turned to her, his eyes scanning her solemn face.
"My carriage," she indicated with a nod towards a vehicle pulling up behind Aubrey Hall, not too far away from them, " It has arrived."
She quickly stood up, avoiding eye contact as she manoeuvred around the railing to retrieve her bag.
"Pen, what are you talking about?" He inquired, momentarily taken aback, as she began to approach the carriage in the distance while he pursued her on foot. "You cannot be serious," he stated, all too well aware of the conclusion of the story.
As the rain started to pick up again, Penelope simply shook her head and trudged on, the weight of her suitcase making each step more difficult. Upon observing her distress, he seized the bag from her and proceeded to carry it himself, if only to prevent her departure by holding it captive.
In fact, as they walked, he seriously contemplated taking Penelope herself hostage, if only to prevent that woman from leaving every time. Because there was no way—not even a sliver of a chance—he was going to let her do this again.
"What did you expect of me?" she inquired, quickening her stride towards the hired hack, determined to avoid even a fleeting glance in Colin's direction. But truly, what did he truly expect? She found herself exposed in the presence of the entire society, courtesy of none other than the Queen herself. What course of action was she expected to take at this point? Pretend everything was the same? Stay and face the retaliation of everyone, including Her Majesty?
"So that was the activity you were engaged in last night," he gestured towards the expansive garden surrounding them, as if tracing the events of the past. "Waiting for your hired carriage to respond to your summons before fleeing again?"
Yes, she thought quietly. Mrs Varley was asked to send them a letter and ensure a generous payment. Acting quickly in her time of need was the least they could do. She took a deep breath as they walked up the hill, the house and carriage approaching them.
"I am not fleeing," she said.
He let out an incredulous scoff, readjusting the bag on his shoulder while the servants at Aubrey Hall noticed their presence. Colin didn't mind, in fact, his voice began to increase in volume.
"Throughout the entire season, all you have done is run away, so spare me your excuses," he replied.
Pen's face flushed with anger as she turned to him, her voice rising to match his. "What is that supposed to mean?" she demanded.
With a pointed finger, he addressed her, saying, "You know precisely what it means, Pen."
In response, she scoffed and proceeded to stride furiously towards the back entrance, where the carriage had been parked.
Undeterred, Colin continued, "You consistently avoid discussing the events that have transpired between us from the start. You tell me nothing about what you are feeling. One moment you kiss me, the next you pursue another. You act as if this is nothing out of the ordinary. This is far from ordinary, Pen. None of this is ordinary."
Her footsteps came to a halt right in front of the hack, her teeth gritted but her eyes filled with tears. In a fit of frustration, Colin stood before her, practically hurling the bag onto the floor.
"The act of running away implies the possession of other alternatives, which, alas, I do not possess," she pointed at herself, dismissing all other accusations he had directed at her, "What is your suggestion for me? Should I remain isolated in society, knowing that even my own mother is likely to abandon me?"
"You can stay," he said, his finger pointing at the ground beneath him, his words slipping out, before he could stop himself. "Stay and marry me. I will protect you, you know I will."
Her hand flew to her chest instinctively, and her breath hitched as she felt her heart racing before she said, "Colin, you need to stop asking me to marry you."
"I will not do such a thing," he replied with clenched teeth, his damp hair cascading over his forehead as he refused to avert his gaze.
"I am not imploring to be rescued," she snapped, "Nor do I require your concern for my reputation, for it is already irreparably tarnished. And if you possess any remaining sense, it would be wise for you to maintain the utmost distance from me to safeguard both yourself and your family from disgrace."
Colin placed a hand on his forehead, sensing his sanity teetering on the edge. "I have no concern for sense, Penelope, nor does this have anything to do with your honour—"
"Then why—"
"Because I love you, damn it!" he yelled, his voice piercing the air, and for a moment she just stared at him wide-eyed, her mouth slightly opened in surprise. But he was too incensed to stop, his arms flailing wildly as she stared at him in shock. "Is it not obvious by now?" he found himself saying to his own surprise, since it had not been evident to him at all.
But it was obvious, wasn't it?
But that single declaration hit her like a gunshot. Penelope's face twisted in anguish as she covered it with her hand, tears streaming down her cheeks. She took a deep breath before uttering the words, "You love me?"
At first, Colin was unaware of what it was, but there was unquestionably something amiss in the way she posed that question. Then, the memory of her using that particular tone of voice came rushing back to him. The night of the season's first ball.
You miss me?
He paused, feeling a sense of impending doom, "And I acknowledge that you may have feelings for someone else—"
She couldn't help but scoff, even though tears welled up in her eyes as she gazed at him. After all they had experienced together—the fights, the laughter, the conversations, and the even scandalously passionate embraces—he had never witnessed her in such a vulnerable state.
"Someone else? There is no one else; there never was anyone else," she declared. Although these were encouraging words, they were filled with a sense of despair rather than elation. "Do you wish to discuss my feelings, Colin?" she asked, moving closer as she gazed into those captivating eyes of his. "I have loved you my entire life," she confessed, with tears streaming down her cheeks. "Ever since our paths crossed, you've had my heart, even before I fully grasped the significance of it all. Even before I knew what love was, I was loving you. To the point where I can not remember my life or myself when I did not love you. Fated to observe you from a distance as you bestowed your affections upon others, as you noticed everyone else, perpetually the overlooked figure on the outskirts of your existence. Barely thought of, barely remembered."
Colin felt a wave of nausea and dread, his stomach dropping and his blood turning to ice as fear took hold of him. He vehemently disagreed with her assertion that she was on the outskirts of his existence, considering it the most absurd notion.
However… all this time? She had been loving him all along, and he did not notice. Why, why hadn't this been obvious to him? What caused him to be so utterly, abhorrently ignorant?
"And now you love me, now you see me?" Her voice was filled with accusation as he felt like a bumbling, speechless fool in the presence of her anguish. "Despite all the events that have transpired between us this season, why have you consistently withheld this information from me, Colin? Throughout the numerous occasions you proposed to me, and even when I directly asked if you desired to marry me, why did you remain silent? Tell me."
Struggling to overcome the tightness in his chest, Colin desperately searched for the words to express himself. How could he have the audacity to confess that he had been a fool from the start? That for all the time she had spent loving him, he had wasted it hurting her, confusing her, and remaining indecisive about his feelings, even when they were shouting at him.
"It is because you never knew it with me, did you?" she asked, her voice choked with tears as she cried, despising the fact that she knew him so well. "It is only now, as you are on the verge of losing me, that you suddenly love me," she declared. "It was not until you saw me dressed in different garments, with a different hairstyle conducting myself in a manner befitting your teachings—"
"No," he practically bellowed, his voice resurfacing as he grew indignant at the revelation of her distorted thought process. As he took a step closer to her, she instinctively took a step backwards, creating a visible distance between them. "That is not—"
"But I am still the same Pen," she said, her voice trembling with such sorrow that he couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of self-loathing for ever making her feel inadequate for being herself. "I continue to be the shy, unremarkable girl who dons yellow dresses and observes from the sidelines as you and everyone else carry on with their lives, Colin. I am still that girl who foolishly believed she could escape her true self by assuming the role of a frivolous gossip columnist, donning extravagant attire like mere disguises, pretending to be someone she is not in the desperate hope of gaining attention. But it is all a facade, a hollow deception. None of this is real, and it is in no way worthwhile to put your family's or your own reputation at risk for it."
"Pen." As he reached for her hands, his vision blurred and his eyes welled up with tears. There was no way that was happening. After everything that had occurred, she had to listen to him. "I swear to you—"
"No," she interrupted him once more, pulling her hands away from his. She wiped at her cheeks one last time, her expression of desperation transforming into a resolute finality. "Since this marks the conclusion of the season and I have not managed to secure a successful proposal as per the terms outlined in our original agreement, I am no longer required to see your face ever again," she declared, her gaze fixed on him, as his worst nightmare unfolded before his very eyes.
"Pen, please—"
"Goodbye, Mr Bridgerton," she said as she boarded the hired carriage, destination unknown.
Colin's legs gave way beneath him, and he desperately clutched onto the bannister to steady himself before collapsing onto the back entrance steps with a loud thud. As his vision became increasingly blurry, even the distant carriage became difficult to discern. In a state of desperation, he instinctively covered his eyes with his hands, tears streaming down his face.
The sheer magnitude of it all was just too much for him to process. He was prepared to persuade Penelope that their connection was undeniably love, but he never anticipated that she had been aware of it from the start. How could he ever convince her that his love for her was unconditional, despite her belief that he only loved her when she was someone else?
Time slipped by as he sat motionless, breathing rapidly and crying without restraint. He didn't feel he had the power in his legs to get up, so he sat and waited for that cursed carriage to return, bringing her back to him.
"Colin?"
As his eyes refocused, he saw the familiar faces of Hyacinth and Gregory. The pair was likely playing together in the gardens, as was their usual routine in Aubrey Hall. After all, it was already morning.
However, both of them now regarded him with such apprehension that they appeared considerably more mature than they truly were.
"I am well," he murmured softly, his voice feeble as his gaze fell downward.
His siblings beheld the sight of his brother, drenched from head to toe, his countenance bearing a profound sense of sorrow that threatened to overwhelm any observer. They exchanged a concerned glance as they cautiously approached him.
"Are you able to walk?" Gregory inquired, he and his sister carefully evaluating Colin's deplorable condition before graciously stooping down to seize him by the arms and assist him in rising.
"I am well," he repeated, in a manner that only someone who was not well would say.
In the midst of a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, he was led inside the house through the back entrance without much awareness. He walked mechanically, without a clear purpose, as he unintentionally left wet footprints on Aubrey Hall's floors.
"How is it possible that we are still unaware of her whereabouts?" Violet's voice resounded loudly from the drawing room, just one among the many clamorous voices reverberating throughout the house. "Given our entire night of searching, we should have spotted her by this point.
"We should question the maids once more," Kate interjected. "Someone among them must have caught a glimpse of something."
"She is none other than Lady Whistledown, she must have orchestrated some form of plan," Anthony's voice replied with evident irritation.
"Regardless of the situation, we cannot simply allow her to vanish from under our roof," Violet stated.
Anthony's reply was abruptly halted as Colin, Gregory, and Hyacinth passed by their open door, on their way to the stairs, immediately capturing their mother's attention.
"Colin?" she asked, her motherly instincts kicking in as she spotted her son drenched from a distance. Approaching them, she reached out and touched his cheeks, feeling the chill against her palms, and she couldn't help but notice the complete devastation of his appearance.
"I am well, mama," he whispered.
"Mrs Wilson," Violet called out, "Please instruct the maids to fetch us some towels," she exclaimed, guiding him towards the drawing room and gently urging him to take a seat as if he were in dire need of urgent rest. "We have been tirelessly searching for you throughout the entire night. Where have you been and why are you all drenched?"
His feeble response was a mere grunt, just as Gregory materialised seemingly out of thin air, bearing the towel their mother had demanded. With swift efficiency, he draped it over his shoulders. "I am perfectly well!" he shouted with increased force, vehemently objecting to the absurdly excessive protectiveness of everyone around him. Being damp was truly the least of his concerns. He rested his elbow on the arm of the chair, his chin supported by his hand, attempting to comprehend the whirlwind of events that had unfolded within the past day.
Indeed, that towel was most absurd.
"Look who I have found," Benedict announced as he entered the drawing room and directed a thumb at Eloise, who was following in his footsteps. The two then completed what seemed to be the biggest reunion of all Bridgertons in one room, with the exception of Francesca and John, who were still on their honeymoon.
Violet and Anthony were about to inquire whether Benedict had discovered anything else when Eloise, seemingly undeterred by their pointless deliberations, ran to Colin at the moment she spotted him.
"Have you located her?" she asked, her voice earnest.
Feeling like he could only be a victim of a cruel joke, he mustered a weak "Yes" while keeping his mouth pressed against his knuckles.
Eloise's eyes grew wide and the room fell into complete silence, as if they had been searching fruitlessly for someone Colin had already found.
"And?" she asked.
His eyes locked onto hers as he grappled with the belief that reliving a horrific accident would be less painful than revisiting the recent incident.
"Colin, where is she?" Eloise's voice became demanding as she changed the question, her worry evident in her expression.
As he withdrew his hand from his mouth, the pent-up frustration and anger of the day washed over him. Crossing his arms, he muttered in a resigned tone, "Gone."
"Gone, what do you mean gone?" Eloise straightened her back, her brows furrowing as she observed her brother's unusually curt demeanour.
As he took a deep breath, his gaze met hers, his piercing blue eyes as sharp as steel. "Gone, as in departed in a hired carriage to an undisclosed location, gone," he declared.
"What?" she exclaimed, her voice almost a yell. "How could you have let her do that?"
He narrowed his eyes at her. "Were you not the one who professed your unwavering support for her in all her future endeavours? This is exactly what she desired to do, Eloise. You were well aware that this was her intention."
They were interrupted by a sudden scoff, and when they turned to see where it came from, they found Benedict and everyone else staring at them in shock. "You knew," Benedict said, "Both of you knew that she was Lady Whistledown."
"Of course we knew. It's Penelope," Eloise said with an air of certainty, as if the knowledge had been ingrained in their minds for years rather than a few months. Returning her attention to Colin, who appeared infuriated with the entire world in that instant, she pressed on without hesitation, "Must I explicitly clarify everything for you? You were not supposed to let her go. "You were supposed to persuade her to stay.
With a sarcastic laughter, Colin tilted his head and cast an indignant gaze at her, his voice filled with anger, "Are you entirely unfamiliar with Penelope? In what manner do you suggest I could have potentially accomplished that?"
"Tell her how you feel!" she yelled, her voice echoing through the room. Her hands flailed in the air as she glared at him, her face becoming flushed with frustration. "With just one word from you, she would have—"
"Are the words I love you satisfactory to you?" He shouted in response, effectively silencing not only her but also any other noise in the room. "Or would you prefer that I selected an alternative assortment of words or perchance rearranged them," he remarked with a sarcastic flourish of his hand.
Eloise, for the first time ever, was rendered utterly speechless, unable to muster any objections. She didn't know what she was expecting, but this was completely different from anything she had imagined. There was a brief moment of quiet in the room, only interrupted by the muffled ticking of the clock, the delicate songs of the birds, and the faint cry of surprise from their mother.
"I knew it," Hyacinth whispered.
"Penelope Featherigton," Anthony muttered, as if a sudden revelation washed over him, and everyone looked at him. "The woman of whom you spoke that evening was Penelope Featherington."
Colin furrowed his eyebrows at Anthony's comment, momentarily taken aback, before he finally said, "It was you."
"Indeed, it was I," Anthony remarked curtly as he approached his brother. "Have you ever seen Benedict provide any sound romantic advice?He posed the question with a sarcastic tone, while pointing at the man in question who responded defensively with a simple "Hey." Continuing in a mumbled voice, he stated, "I have given you my poem, ungrateful bastard."
With a determined stride, Anthony continued advancing towards Colin, his words seething through gritted teeth, "Had you informed me that it was Penelope Featherington with whom you were frolicking alone and unchaperoned—"
"ANTHONY—" his multitude of family members objected. "Anthony, think of the children," Violet pleaded, while Benedict tried to shield Eloise's ears, only to be met with her vehement slaps.
"—you and I" Anthony continued, undeterred, pointing at himself and Colin as he leaned down to face his brother, "would have gone to the Featherington house the following day in order for you to propose to her."
Annoyed to the earth and back, Colin leaned forward, his voice filled with frustration as he spoke through clenched teeth himself. "If you remember our previous discussion and the advice you provided, you would be aware that I have already proposed to her. Twice." As recognition dawned on Anthony's face, he straightened his back. Colin, in a dramatic fashion, leaned back on his chair and added irritably, "Thrice as of today."
Absolute shock washed over everyone as they once again stared at the distressed man, while Violet, overwhelmed, let out a second whine and plopped down on the sofa, fanning herself. While she had an inkling that something was going on, she was taken aback by how far in advance it was happening.
"Pardon me, I have been absent for a mere two years. How is it that Benedict has now become the least scandalous among the three of you?" Daphne suddenly interjected, lazily pointing her index finger towards the second Bridgerton son.
"I must admit, I am truly shocked myself," Benedict replied, visibly expressing his astonishment by raising his eyebrows and crossing his arms.
"Penelope Featherington?" Simon then suddenly said, having lost too much context lately to understand the family. "Isn't she the same girl he promised never to court?"
At that, several groans reverberated throughout the room, including Colin's.
"What?" Simon shrugged and stated, "We all receive Whistledown's gossip, it's quite ubiquitous."
Colin took a deep breath, covering his mouth with his hand once more, his thoughts racing as he despised his relentless past. Once again, he turned his attention to Eloise, their discussion still incomplete.
"She does not believe me, Eloise. She has this notion in her mind that I only love her because she has changed, when it is not true, when I have always…" he expressed his sincere desperation, realising that his sister remained silent after learning all this new information. Frustration once again consumed Colin as he placed a hand on his forehead and asked, "Are you aware of how unbearably distressing it is to engage in a fight with a writer? Her ability to always choose the perfect words is truly uncanny. Even when I am aware of her incorrectness, it is the manner in which she articulates her thoughts that occasionally renders one speechless."
Eloise gazed upon her brother, scarcely able to fathom that she was, indeed, feeling sympathy for him. She was in fact unaware of a great deal that was transpiring between him and her closest friend.
And then a memory of something Penelope had said came rushing back to her.
"Are you not a writer as well, damn it?" she asked, her vows of secrecy abandoned in the midst of a dire situation. As she spoke, her hand moved through the air, punctuating each word with a confident gesture. "Then write. Make her believe."
Colin remained still and stared at Eloise, unaware that she was aware of that particular fact about him. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion upon hearing her proposition. What could he possibly—
And then it hit him.
"What?" Eloise inquired, observing Colin's immediate change in posture as he suddenly straightened his back.
"I must admit, in light of recent developments, I am slightly alarmed," Benedict remarked, also noting Colin's contemplative state.
"What is it?" Even Hyacinth couldn't help but join in, her annoyance evident as the suspense continued.
"I…I have an idea," Colin muttered, hardly believing his mind when he conceived of something so implausible that it might be possible to aid Penelope and his own hopeless cause. Then, he turned his gaze towards Anthony, silently seeking his approval, before adding,"It will almost certainly bring further scandal and ridicule to our family name."
All eyes shifted to Anthony, who locked his gaze on his younger brother, pausing for a moment before shutting his eyes, gently squeezing the bridge of his nose, and inhaling deeply. In a single second, he came to the realisation that he would gladly sacrifice everything for his brother's happiness. And given the current state of affairs, he had no doubt that when Colin alluded to causing a scandal, he meant it wholeheartedly. A scandal of immense proportions, most likely.
Opening his eyes, he declared to the room, his voice filled with determination, "I shall grant my approval to whatever it may be. However," he paused to gather his thoughts, "I have been informed that I am no longer allowed to express my opinion on the matter since last season," he echoed his earlier statement from the beginning of the season before diverting his attention to his mother.
Violet found herself at the centre of everyone's gaze as they turned to her, causing her eyes to widen in surprise. All of her children, and even their spouses, fixed their gazes on her, their expressions filled with sincerity and a willingness to provide whatever support Colin required. Even if it meant besmirching the family's reputation.
So, with a resolute breath, she made her choice.
A/N:
*grabbing my bulletproof vest*
so... hi... how is everyone doing...everyone okay?
I KNOW I'm making Colin suffer but I swear I'll make him happy too alright? I PROMISE
I chose songs 16 and 17 of the playlist and man how I love the Lights instrumetal. It's sooo gorgeous.
I am very much aware my final notes here are short, but it's because I am on a rush right now (and I wanted to update this today), but anything you guys want to discuss my reviews are open and you guys know I love talking to you.
May God bless you and have a good evening!