A hush fell over the glittering ballroom as Queen Charlotte stood imperiously from her balcony vantage point, regal presence commanding all eyes upon her. Lady Agatha Danbury and the Queen's ladies-in-waiting trailed in her wake as she regally descended the steps toward the dance floor.
As the music came to a close, the Queen's ever efficient aide, Brimsley, swiftly drew attention by sharply tapping a spoon against a wine glass, the ringing tinkle cutting through the low murmurs. Hundreds of heads swiveled towards the dais where the Queen stood, a proud, mischievous smile playing across her lips.
Seeing the attention are now all hers, Queen Charlotte began her elaborate speech, her words weaving a spell over the assembled guests. She announced that, unlike previous seasons, there would be no Diamond for this year. Instead, she declared that there would be an Emerald, a jewel she personally favored.
"My lords, ladies, and honored guests." Charlotte's voice rang out clarion-clear. "It is our greatest pleasure to formally open this new season. However.." Here she paused, arching one shaped brow theatrically. "We have deemed this year shall forge a new tradition."
Intrigued whispers rippled through the assembly at her Majesty's cryptic preamble. The Queen's nod was almost imperceptible, but Brimsley caught it, rapping his spoon once more for silence to fall.
"There shall be no Diamond named as the Incomparable this year." Charlotte pronounced decisively. "For my particular favor now lies with a rarer, more multifaceted gemstone." Her gaze swept overtly towards a certain corner of the room. "The Emerald is my professed jewel. And in Miss Penelope Featherington, I hereby acknowledge this season's Emerald!"
Gasps - some scandalized, others simply stunned - echoed through the ballroom at the unexpected proclamation. All eyes turned towards the crimson-haired young woman at whom the Queen's finger unerringly pointed.
The Bridgertons beamed with unrestrained delight at this enormous honor bestowed upon their beloved Penelope. Violet's expression was one of pride bordering on tears of joy.
Lady Portia Featherington, however, paled in horror at having the royal spotlight so abruptly thrust upon her youngest daughter. Fear gripped her - what if this elevated exposure triggered her Majesty's discovery of Penelope's Lady Whistledown secret? She shot a panicked glance towards her youngest.
Penelope Featherington, for her part, seemed frozen in shock, unable to fully process the Queen's decree. All eyes turned expectantly towards her, the crowd parting to allow a clear path to approach the Queen.
Yet Penelope found herself unable to move a muscle, paralyzed by the weight of the Queen's imperious, if amused, gaze. It was only upon meeting Lady Danbury's warm encouraging smile and subtle nod that the redhead managed to take a single tremulous step forward.
The ballroom seemed to hold its collective breath as Penelope Featherington approached Queen Charlotte with all the grace and poise befitting a lady of the ton. She sank into an elegant curtsy, back arched, chin dipped respectfully - the very picture of decorum. A hint of a pleased smile played across the Queen's lips.
"Your Majesty." Penelope said, her voice steady despite the fluttering in her chest.
Queen Charlotte regarded the redhead with a keen eye, noting the elegance of her posture and the intelligence shining in her eyes. "Miss Featherington, it is a pleasure to have you here tonight." The Queen said warmly.
"The pleasure is mine, your Majesty." Penelope replied, her voice soft but filled with sincerity. "Thank you for bestowing this honor upon me."
The Queen smiled, pleased by Penelope's gracious response. "Well now, Miss Featherington." Charlotte began, her piercing gaze studying the young redhead intently. "Lady Danbury has professed your many admirable qualities which inspired our decision. Let us determine if her praises ring equally true to our own discerning eye."
Penelope felt her heartbeat quicken slightly under the Queen's frank scrutiny, but she refused to let her nerves manifest. Drawing a fortifying breath, she met Charlotte's stare evenly. "I shall endeavor not to disappoint, your Majesty."
A flicker of intrigue passed the Queen's expression at Penelope's composed confidence. With a regal tilt of her head, she posed her first query. "Tell me. Miss Featherington, what divergent perspectives have your recent travails at the country granted you?"
For a beat, Penelope seemed to weigh her response carefully before replying."If I may be so bold, your Majesty, I've come to appreciate how easy it is for one's viewpoint to become.. Insular when surrounded solely by the influences of high society." Penelope swallows as she tries to think back what she had just said. She could not think of where she had gotten those words as she still has no recollection of her life in London, or her experience being part of the society.
Her words carried neither judgment nor apology, stated with an honesty that bordered on philosophical musing. Charlotte's interest was clearly piqued as she considered the unexpected depths of Penelope's answer.
Charlotte leaned in more slightly, her expression curious. "I see. And what do you hope to achieve this season?"
Penelope paused for a moment before answering with a warm but poised smile. "Your Majesty, my main goal is to immerse myself in the beauty of London society once again, as I have missed the season last." She began. "I hope to form meaningful connections, to learn and grow, and perhaps even find a sense of purpose." The redhead's response was one that came from her heart, considering her partial memory loss.
The Queen nodded approvingly. "A commendable goal indeed." She remarked. "I have no doubt that you will achieve great things, Miss Featherington."
"Thank you, your Majesty." Penelope said, a genuine smile lighting up her face. "Your words mean a great deal to me."
As the two continued their intellectual parley, the other attendees looked on in rapt admiration tinged with no small amount of shock. To hear the words tumbling eloquently from the lips of the woman once known as the shyest wallflower was revelatory.
"Can you believe we've overlooked such a resplendent jewel in our midst?" Lady Trowbridge incredulously murmured to her companion.
Benedict Bridgerton, meanwhile found himself fighting an amused grin as he noted the unmistakable interest and appreciation blooming across the faces of several eligible gentlemen - Lord Fife and his ilk among them. Leaning towards Anthony conspiratorially, he murmured. "Well, well, it seems our dear Miss Featherington has caught the Queen's eye. As well as the known rakes of the ton." Benedict commented, his tone lighthearted.
The Viscount's jaw tensed infinitesimally at his brother's teasing observation. Scanning the crowd more critically, he too caught the weighted stares aimed in Penelope's direction from Fife and his cronies. A muscle ticked in his cheek, a protective instinct flaring as his regard settled contemplatively back upon the radiant center of attention.
Anthony knew all too well the enormity of being elevated to the status of a coveted jewel, having witnessed Daphne's season up close. For Penelope, newly returned from such a prolonged absence and still so vulnerably adrift, the pressures would be tenfold. And the predators undoubtedly circling..
His wrist clenched fractionally on his side as Anthony vowed to himself to shield Penelope from any unscrupulous avenues this night. Whatever banterous notions Benedict entertained, their family friend's security and wellbeing would be Anthony Bridgerton's solitary priority from this point forward.
—
As the buzz of excitement filled the air following Queen Charlotte's departure, Penelope found herself surrounded by a throng of guests eager to catch a glimpse of the newly dubbed Emerald of the season. Her mother, Lady Portia Featherington, stood by her side, her nerves palpable as she navigated the crowd with a forced smile.
Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, ever vigilant, noticed Penelope's discomfort amidst the press of people. He had seen Lord Fife approaching, his intentions clear, and knew he had to intervene. With determined strides, he made his way through the crowd, his gaze fixed on Penelope.
Just as Fife was about to address the Featheringtons, Anthony reached Penelope's side, his presence a welcome interruption. With a charming smile, he extended his hand to Penelope, his eyes locking with hers.
"Miss Featherington, may I have the pleasure for another dance?" Anthony asked, his tone polite but firm.
Fife's expression darkened, a hint of irritation flashing across his features. "Surely, Lord Bridgerton, you've already had your turn with the lady." He remarked, his voice tinged with annoyance.
Anthony maintained his composure, unfazed by Fife's thinly veiled hostility. "Indeed, Lord Fife." He replied smoothly. "But I see no harm in indulging in another dance, especially with such esteemed company."
Portia, sensing Anthony's intentions of shielding her daughter from unwanted gentlemen, gave a subtle nod of approval, silently urging Penelope to accept the Viscount's offer. The redhead mama remembered reading on the Whistledown issue how the third Bridgerton boy had made fun of her daughter in front of Fife and his cronies. It would be improper for Penelope to decline an invitation for a dance, however, if there are multiple invitations at the same time, the youngest Featherington would have the say on whose hand she would so prefer. Thank the gods for Anthony.
Penelope, caught in the midst of the exchange, felt a wave of relief wash over her as she sensed her mother's signal. She welcomed Anthony's offer, grateful for the chance to escape the suffocating crowd with a familiar face in the form of the Viscount.
With a gracious smile, she placed her hand in Anthony's, her eyes expressing her gratitude. "I would be delighted, Lord Bridgerton." She replied with her voice soft and sincere.
As Anthony led Penelope onto the dance floor, Fife and the other gentlemen could only watch in begrudging acceptance. The Bridgerton had won this round, securing a moment of respite for the overwhelmed Emerald of the season.
From her vantage point on the outskirts of the ballroom, Eloise Bridgerton observed the scene unfolding before her with a mixture of curiosity and concern. Her gaze fixated on her friend, Penelope Featherington, as she danced gracefully with her brother Anthony for the second time that evening.
Beside her, Benedict Bridgerton noticed Eloise's focused attention and followed her gaze to the dance floor, where Penelope and Anthony moved in perfect harmony.
"What's got you so bothered, El?" Benedict inquired, his brow furrowing slightly as he observed his sister's expression.
Eloise sighed, torn between her loyalty to her friend and her growing uneasy at Anthony's actions. "Why is Anthony dancing with Penelope again?" She asked, her tone tinged with frustration.
Benedict considered his sister's question for a moment before offering a plausible explanation. "Perhaps he's trying to help Penelope feel more at ease." He suggested. "Given the attention she's receiving tonight, it's understandable that she might be overwhelmed."
Eloise nodded, acknowledging the validity of her second brother's assessment. However, her mind was already racing with thoughts of the implications of Penelope's newfound prominence in society.
As she watched the pair twirl across the dance floor, Eloise couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance towards her brother. While she understood his intentions, she could not shake the feeling that Anthony's actions would only serve to draw more attention to Penelope.
Internally, Eloise cursed her brother's obliviousness to the consequences of his actions. She knew that acting as a temporary writer behind Lady Whistledown's scandalous gossip sheets, she would be obligated to include the events of the evening for the next publication.
With a resigned sigh, Eloise began mentally composing her next entry, Penelope's announcement as the Emerald of the season would undoubtedly be a major scoop, but she could not ignore the role her own family played in the unfolding drama.
Despite her reluctance to involve her friend and her brother in the gossip, Eloise Bridgerton knew that in order to maintain Lady Whistledown's anonymity, she would have to report on the spectacle for all of London to read. Just as Penelope had protected her from the Queen's scrutiny, Eloise would be required to do her part to safeguard her friend's reputation, even if it meant writing about her own family.