"P-Pardon me.. But who might you be?"
As Penelope broke the embrace and innocently asked Eloise who she was, a heavy silence settled over the room, broken only by the sound of Eloise's racing thoughts. The foyer fell deathly silent after Penelope Featherington asked who the brunette hugging her was. Eloise recoiled, her face a mix of anguish and confusion as she backed away from her best friend.
Eloise Bridgerton felt her heart clench painfully. Penelope's words cut deeper than any barb she had ever received. Why would the redhead ask who she was? Eloise's mind raced. Was Penelope still furious over their last argument at the Featherington ball two seasons ago? Was she denying Eloise's very existence out of lingering hurt and anger over the dreadful things she had hurled at her then?
Tears pricked Eloise's eyes as guilt and regret threatened to overwhelm her. Even if Penelope had every right to be livid at her, to completely disavow and forget their lifelong friendship was unthinkable. Had Eloise's harsh words back then truly severed that bond forever?
Meanwhile, Penelope looked at Eloise with genuine curiosity, her memory still clouded from the aftermath of her accident. She could not quite place the brunette before her, and her confusion only deepened as she saw the tears in Eloise's eyes.
Sensing the tension in the room, Violet stepped forward, her voice gentle as she addressed Penelope. "Penelope, dear, surely you did not forget Eloise? She is your friend."
Penelope's brow furrowed in confusion as she looked from Eloise to Violet and back again. "Friend?" She echoed, uncertainty lacing her voice.
Feeling overwhelmed, Eloise tried to hold Penelope's arms on both sides as her tears spilling over as she struggled to maintain her composure. "Pen, it's me Eloise! I know I've wronged you, but we've been friends for years." The brunette's voice choked with emotion.
Penelope's expression remained confused as she turned towards her own mother, a flicker of nervousness crossing the young redhead's features. "Mama, w-who are they?"
The three Bridgertons were clouded with fear and horror as they saw the sincerity in Penelope's query to Lady Featherington. The shock settled over them like a heavy cloud, and Anthony, Violet and Eloise can only exchange worried glances, as their hearts are heavy with concern for the redhead.
Anthony's voice was filled with urgency as he turned to Portia, his brows furrowed and tone exercising his title as the Viscount. "Lady Featherington, what is going on here? Why does Miss Featherington not recognize us?" He asked, his tone tinged with alarm.
The dowager baroness nodded solemnly, her expression mirroring the concern etched on the faces of the Bridgertons. "Please, let us move to the drawing room." She said rather softly, gesturing them to follow her. "I will explain everything there."
Once inside, Portia placed herself on the settee with Penelope sitting beside her. Anthony and Violet took the armchairs facing them while Eloise made herself sit at the space left beside Penelope. After everyone was seated comfortably, a maid entered the room, bearing a tray of snacks and tea service. Portia poured tea for each of them, her movements graceful and practiced despite the nervousness painted on her features.
Once they had their refreshments, Violet gently asked Lady Featherington why Penelope could not recognize them.
Portia sighed heavily, clearly pained to recount the circumstances. "When Penelope finally awoke after the accident, her memories were.. Not intact." She paused, carefully considering her words. Penelope remained silent at her side, as she provided explanation to their guests. "She can recall her childhood, general knowledge and so forth. But more recent events, certain personal relations - those seem to have been removed from her recollections altogether."
Violet's eyes widened in dawning realization. "You mean to say she does not remember us? Even her friendship with Eloise?"
Portia nodded solemnly. "I'm afraid not. It is as if my daughter's mind has reverted to preserving only what it deems her core identity and knowledge base from her earliest years."
An anguished look passed between the Bridgertons. For Eloise, who had so fervently looked forward to reuniting with her dearest friend, it was a gutting revelation. Tears welled in her eyes anew.
"But how is that possible?" Anthony asked, his brow furrowed. "Even from a brain trauma, to simply.. Forget those closest to you?"
"The physicians say in catastrophic cases, the mind can erect amnesiatic blocks as a self-preserving defense mechanism." Portia explained wearily. "Ridding itself of more tenuous recent memories to safeguard the integral oldest ones."
"They have also warned that her amnesia may be permanent - those missing years potentially lost forever unless something could jog and unlock her buried memories." The redhead mama added.
"So you returned to London in hopes the familiarity would help spark her recollections?" Violet deduced, her voice thick with compassion.
"If I am to choose, I honestly would rather not. However, Prudence is to be married by the end of the season. She deserves to at least enjoy one season before settling down. The physicians advised that being surrounded by her old haunts and.." Portia swallowed hard. "And reuniting with those she was closest to, may yet reverse my Penelope's terrible condition."
"And you think it's not?" Anthony questions the baroness with furrowed brows.
"No, I don't think it should be, my lord. London had never been a good choice for Penelope, nor for my family. This place.. Just brings us all bad memories. I can only imagine what hardships and difficulties my Penelope had been secretly struggling before she had decided to leave for Scotland."
There was a heavy silence as they digested Portia's words. For the past seasons, there were only scandals and unfortunate things that befell her family. Archibald's gambling debts, his eventual death, their cousin Marina Thompson's scandal, Jack Featherington's investment scam and this tragic consequence of Penelope's accident. For Penelope to lose entire chapters of her lived experiences, her hard-won relationships - it seemed a cruelly ironic fate. The Bridgertons could not really find a reason to refute the Featherington matriarch's words.
Finally, Violet found her voice. "You must tell us everything, Portia. Perhaps together we can piece together a way to help Penelope regain what she has lost."
Anthony Bridgerton, ever the responsible Viscount, cleared his throat, supplementing his mother's proposition. "You have our full support, Lady Featherington. Whatever Penelope requires from our family to heal, you need only ask." He looked at Eloise pointedly.
Eloise met her brother's gaze, her eyes blazing with rekindled determination despite the tears spilling down her cheeks. She would stop at nothing to reclaim the friend she had lost.
—
Penelope Featherington sat pensively as her mother Portia explained about their longtime neighbors, the Bridgertons, living just across the street. "You were especially close with the second daughter, Eloise." The dowager baroness said carefully. "The two of you were dearest friends since childhood."
Penelope's brow furrowed slightly as she processed this new information about her past. "I.. don't remember her. Or any of them, really." The redhead said with a hint of sadness in her eyes. Her kind heart feels a pang of guilt as the image of a crying Eloise from earlier, enters her mind. As much as Penelope tries to think of Eloise's name or any of the Bridgertons', nothing comes up on her.
Lady Featherington reached out and patted her hand consolingly. "That's quite alright, dear. We'll proceed slowly so as not to overwhelm you. For now, Lady Violet and Lord Bridgerton have kindly offered to chaperone you on an outing. Didn't you want to go to the bookshop today?"
The Bridgertons nodded in agreement, and Penelope was reintroduced to the Viscount and his mother. Violet smiled warmly. "It's wonderful to see you up and about, Penelope."
Anthony cleared his throat. "Shall we be off then? I've instructed the footmen to have the carriage brought around."
As they exited the Featherington estate, Anthony drew Portia aside. "You have my word, Lady Featherington. We shall ensure Penelope's comfort and shield her from any.. Undue attentions in the town." He said delicately.
Portia nodded gratefully. "I cannot thank you enough for indulging us, my lord. Penelope is just reacquainting herself with the familiar. She is an intelligent lady. I know soon, she'll come around."
"Of course." Anthony assured her. "In fact, I would be happy to chaperone her and Eloise on future outings as well, to help rekindle their prior closeness at a cautious pace."
"You are too kind, Lord Bridgerton. I wouldn't like to impose that much."
"There is nothing to worry about, my lady. Miss Penelope is family to us. We'll help her reintegrate to society, but I'll be sure to take it slow. We don't want to overwhelm her."
With that, the group prepared to head out to the bookshop, eager to spend some time together and create new memories that Penelope would hopefully cherish for years to come.
—
As Anthony extended his hand to assist Penelope into the carriage, he couldn't help but notice the slight hesitation in her movement. He could not blame her since for now, his family were just merely strangers to Penelope's memory. Yet, as their eyes met, he offered her a warm, reassuring smile, hoping to ease any discomfort she might be feeling.
Penelope's smile in return was like a ray of sunshine, and in that moment, Anthony could not help but be struck by her beauty. Once settled inside the carriage, he took his seat beside his mother, his eyes occasionally flickering towards Penelope as she sat across from him.
"What is wrong with me?" As the carriage rumbled along the streets of London, Viscount Anthony Bridgerton thinks to himself as he could not help stealing glances at Penelope Featherington whenever he thought she would not notice. He could not shake the feeling of awe that washed over him every time he looked at her. Her porcelain skin seemed to glow with an ethereal light, and the vibrant hue of her hair caught the sunlight streaming through the carriage window, making it look like a halo of fiery red. There was a delicate grace to her features, a softness that drew him, and he found himself mesmerized by the way her eyes sparkled with hidden depths of emotion. A contrasting sight compared to when he last saw her in Doncaster, when she was just laying still on a bed, almost lifeless.
Inwardly, Anthony marveled at the realization of just how beautiful Penelope Featherington truly was. He had known her for years, of course as his sister's dearest friend, but it was as if he was seeing her for the first time. He could not help but wonder how he had never noticed before, how he had never taken the time to appreciate the quiet elegance and charm that seemed to radiate from her every movement.
Lost in thoughts, Anthony barely registered the conversation between Eloise and Penelope as they discussed their shared love of literature. He was too preoccupied with his own musings, too captivated by the sight of Penelope sitting across from him, to pay much attention to anything else.
It was only when the carriage came to a halt outside the bookshop that Anthony was jolted out of his reverie. He blinked, shaking his head slightly as if to clear it, and then turned to Penelope with a faint smile.
"Well, here we are." He said, offering her his hand once more to help her out of the carriage. "Shall we?"
Penelope's features brightened up when her eyes explored the almost familiar surroundings of the town's shopping district.
"I-It's beautiful.. I didn't think there would be so many people." Penelope murmured as she looked around the buildings and establishments around the street.
"Does this place strike a memory for you, dear?" Violet asks the youngest Featherington as she gently places a hand on the young lady's shoulders.
"I-I'm not sure, my lady. It feels familiar, but I.. I can't remember myself being here.." There was sadness in Penelope's voice as she answered the dowager Viscountess.
"Oh believe me, Pen. We have been here a thousand times before!" Eloise excitedly says as she hooks her arm on one of Penelope's.
"I-I see.. Well, I trust it when you say it smiling like that." Penelope warmly smiles at the brunette as she could see how excited Eloise is. Penelope was the one who wanted to visit the bookshop, but the giddy looks on Eloise Bridgerton makes it seem that the latter is the one most happiest with their outing.
Truly, Eloise's demeanor has greatly improved from earlier as she is now full of smiles and has been engaging her friend for small talks despite the awkward situation between them.
For Eloise, regaining Penelope's precious friendship is the top priority but it's a fragile process requiring the utmost care and sensitivity. On one hand, she feels guilty withholding the full truth about the massive rift that tore them apart surrounding Penelope's identity as Lady Whistledown being exposed. Carrying that weight in silence weighs heavily.
However, Eloise astutely recognizes that revealing those painful details too soon could completely overwhelm and re-traumatize Penelope in her still psychologically delicate state of regaining her bearings. Despite her own desire to unburden herself of guilt, Eloise will not risk endangering Penelope's healing progress so soon.
One of her fears is that if Penelope were to learn how profoundly she lashed out at her and is the one to break off their friendship, it could undo any progress they've made in reconnecting so far. Lady Portia Featherington would surely prohibit any further contact between them to protect her daughter's wellbeing once the dowager baroness finds out what really happened between her and Penelope on the night of the Featherington ball.
It is an unacceptable risk Eloise is unwilling to take. As much as the truth gnaws at her, she had quickly made the choice to prioritize rebuilding Penelope's trust, positivity and their happy associations first. Once her friend is on more stable footing, she will then begin carefully broaching the traumatic events that fractured their bond.