The dance floor was alive with swirling colors and melodious strains as Penelope allowed Anthony to guide her through the familiar steps. Though still tinged with lingering apprehension, she could not help but feel a small bloom of ease in the Viscount's reassuring presence.
From across the ballroom, two sets of maternal eyes watched the pair's every movement with a mixture of delight and careful consideration. Portia turned to her long-acquainted neighbor.
"Lady Bridgerton, are you quite certain it's wise to have the Viscount extend such.. Attentions toward Penelope this evening?" Her brow creased with faint worry. "He so rarely indulges in dance partners for the past seasons, is he not?"
Violet Bridgerton arched an inquisitive eyebrow. "And what would be amiss about my son keeping your daughter pleasant company? Surely you do not still harbor reservations about Penelope rejoining society?"
A fleeting look of discomfort passed over Portia's features before her expression smoothed out once more. "It's not that. Only.. the Viscount openly favoring a young lady in particular could give rise to certain.. Assumptions. Unsubstantiated rumors that might harm his reputation."
Violet blinked, momentarily taken aback as the subtle implications sank in. Over the years, she had known Lady Featherington as an ambitious mama, ever seeking advantageous matches for her daughters. For her to counsel caution now regarding potential gossip about her son Anthony was... unexpected, to say the least.
"Oh, dear." Violet said carefully. "You need not protect Anthony from idle speculation. His standing in the ton is quite secure. And if some fleeting disreputable whispers did arise?" She gave a small shrug of nonchalance. "I can think of far worse fates than having him seen attentive toward your daughter."
Portia seemed to shrink slightly at the pointed words. "I only meant.. Penelope has endured enough already without mindless conjecture complicating matters further. Not all scrutiny is so easily waved away." Her voice took on a raw, protective edge.
Realization dawned in Violet's warm gaze. Gone was the lady seeking lofty advantageous pairings - this was a mother desperately shielding her fragile daughter from any potential harm. She reached out and patted Portia's hand consolingly.
"Then your concerns are entirely unnecessary, Portia. If any should dare level improper insinuations, they shall have myself and my family to answer to." Violet's tone left no room for argument. "Anthony keeping Penelope's spirits aloft this evening can only be for the best."
Lady Featherington searched Violet's sincere features for a moment before giving a tremulous smile and the barest nod of assent. For tonight at least, she could allow herself to relax under the Bridgertons' protection for her daughter.
As the two mothers watched their children glide across the floor together, their alliance of solidarity reaffirmed, perhaps a sliver of light had emerged from the shroud of turmoil still lingering over the Featherington name.
—-
As Anthony Bridgerton guided Penelope Featherington through the graceful figures of the dance, he found himself utterly transfixed by her eyes - a vivid cerulean that seemed to shimmer and transform with every nuanced emotion flickering across her delicately featured face. Though they had surely turned about the ballroom together in years past, something entirely newfound graced her movements now.
Her footwork flowed with a lithe, featherlight elegance that required only the most subtle of leads from him. It was as if they moved as one seamless entity, Penelope effortlessly matching his every step and gesture. Anthony marveled inwardly at this revelation of innate poise from the woman who had always faded into the wallflower background before.
"You've become quite the accomplished dancer, Miss Featherington." He said warmly as they glided across the floor. "I don't recall you possessing such delicate prowess in years past."
A becoming blush tinted Penelope's cheeks at the sincere compliment. "You are most kind, my lord. Though I cannot take credit - the country environs afforded ample time to practice footwork, if little opportunity for actual dancing."
"Ah yes, your family's rural sojourn." Anthony replied, arching an inquisitive brow. "You found the rustic pace and solitude to your liking then? A welcome respite from the oppressive whirl of the ton, I imagine."
A slight crease furrowed Penelope's brow, as if those memories shimmered at the edges of her consciousness without fully taking form. "It was.. Peaceful, I suppose. The quiet suited my temperament well enough at the time."
There it was again, that subtle undercurrent of wistful melancholy whenever her recent history was broached. As if massive pieces of the narrative lay obscured behind an impenetrable veil that she strained, but could not quite lift.
Anthony felt an uncharacteristic pang of protectiveness towards this remarkable young woman who remained an enigma in so many ways, even to herself it seemed. He gave her hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze as they turned across the floor.
"But how does it feel to be back here in London? It must be quite the adjustment after so long away."
Penelope Featherington seemed to ponder her response with great care, precisely choosing her words. "It is... an adjustment to be certain." She said at last. "As if I am meant to slip back into the skin of a former self, despite my mind's hazy recollections of who that self truly was."
Her eloquence and earnest candor in addressing such a personal, fraught struggle caught Anthony by surprise. He realized most of his previous shallow assumptions about this young miss had been misguided at best, if not willfully blind. She did not simply fade meekly into the background - she shone, however circumspectly.
"Well, I for one am most glad to have the privilege of making your reacquaintance, Miss Featherington." The Viscount replied with uncharacteristic warmth.
The redhead's eyes widened ever so slightly at the sincerity in his words before crinkling at the corners, her full lips curving into a radiant smile that rendered her quite becomingly. Anthony felt himself smiling back as he gazed at Penelope's graceful features. Their closeness as they danced made him notice how pretty she truly was. The freckles that lightly peppers her cheeks, the pink tint that brushes off on her plump lips, and the long lashes that highlight her perfect blue eyes. Anthony could not help but think how this little girl he had known as his sister's childhood friend had become a gorgeous and beautiful woman she is right now.
"You are too kind, my lord."
"Anthony."
"I-I beg your pardon?" Penelope's eyes showed confusion as the Viscount uttered his Christian name.
"You must call me, Anthony. You have been an honorary member of our family for so long, I believe there shall be no need for such formalities." Anthony smiles at the redhead charmingly.
"T-Then, please call me Penelope. Or Pen.. as what Miss Eloise has been calling me." Penelope shyly responds. Throughout her renewed memory, her mother and her sister had only been calling her as Penelope. So for her to be called by a nickname is rather new for her.
"Alright Penelope." Anthony could not help but be more amused with Penelope. Throughout their exchange of words, the young redhead answered his questions with such grace and sincerity, making their conversation flow effortlessly.
It was only then that Anthony realized the music had ceased, the dance having drawn to a close without his notice. Penelope looked about with a touch of confusion coloring her porcelain features.
"Perhaps you could escort me back to our mothers, my lo– Anthony?" she asked politely.
Anthony felt a pang of regret at the realization that their dance had come to an end so soon. "Of course, Penelope." He replied with a smile, offering her his arm. "But before we do, I'd like to ask. Is there anything you'd like to do now that you're back here in London? Any activities you've been longing to try, or places to visit?"
Penelope paused for a moment, her brow furrowing in thought. "Well." She began slowly, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. "I've always wanted to try horseback riding. But unfortunately, there was no one to accompany me back in the country. Mama doesn't know how to ride.. And Prudence was busy courting Mister Huxley.."
A smile spread across Anthony's face as he listened to her answer. "Horseback riding, you say? Well, I happen to know a thing or two about that. Perhaps I could arrange for us to go riding together sometime?"
Penelope's eyes lit up with excitement, and Anthony could not help but feel a sense of satisfaction at having made her happy.
"I.. Yes, I rather think I would enjoy that, Anthony. Thank you.."
As they made their way across the ballroom to find their mothers, he could not shake the feeling that he had just found another reason to spend more time with the delightful redhead.
—-
As the opulent Danbury ballroom shimmered and flowed with the glittering movements of the ton like a kaleidoscope of colors and melodies, Queen Charlotte, from the raised balcony overlooking it all, observed the proceedings with a discerning yet entertained eye, accompanied as always by her trusted confidant and the hostess for the night, Lady Agatha Danbury.
"There seems no shortage of delightful revelries to be had this evening." The Queen remarked idly as the dancing pairs twirled and changed partners in their intricate figuring.
Her astute gaze was suddenly drawn towards the very center of the floor, where one couple in particular seemed to command the space with an effortless, magnetic grace. The striking gentleman was known to her, of course - Viscount Anthony Bridgerton resplendent in his evening attire. But his dance partner..
"Agatha, who is that young woman accompanying Lord Bridgerton?" Charlotte asked with a cant of her head. "The one in the emerald green gown - she fairly glows, does she not?"
A sly smile played across the elder lady's lips. "Why, that is Miss Penelope Featherington, your Majesty. I had wondered when she might catch your eye."
Queen Charlotte's brow arched delicately in surprise. "A Featherington, you say? I don't recall taking much notice of her before."
"Nor would you have cause to previously, your Majesty." Agatha allowed. "The poor child suffered through a terrible accident and ordeal towards the end of the 1814 season. Her entire family felt compelled to depart from London soon after, allowing her time to fully recover in the country last year."
Nodding in understanding, Charlotte's sharp gaze refocused intently upon the redheaded young woman seemingly captivating the viscount's attention so thoroughly. There was an ethereal, delicate quality about her - like an emerald catching the light at every precise facet and angle.
A small, secretive smile curved Charlotte's lips as a notion took hold.
"Tell me, my friend." She said decisively. "How would you assess this Miss Featherington's poise, conversation and standing amongst her peers? For I do believe I may have identified this season's lady to honor as my Emerald."
Lady Danbury blinked, taken aback by the impromptu decree - the Queen typically anointed a Diamond as her Incomparable each year, in response to the infamous gossip writer Lady Whistledown's challenges. Agatha's gaze grew assessing as she considered Penelope Featherington anew.
"An.. intriguing selection, your Majesty." The famed lioness replied carefully. "Though from what I can discern, the young lady comports herself with abundant grace and propriety. She is undoubtedly one of the few intelligent ladies from her generation, I must say. As for standing..."
Charlotte waved a nonchalant hand. "Yes, yes, we may attend to the finer societal details later. For now, it shall simply please me to uplift one whose light shines so unassumingly as that Emerald gem."
Recognizing the whimsy that had taken her Majesty, Lady Danbury could only acquiesce with an indulgent smile. "As you say, my Queen. An Emerald it shall be.."
Nevertheless, Agatha was overly satisfied that the Queen had taken notice of Penelope Featherington. For the senior matron knew how good of a lady for the society's standard the young redhead is. If only the ton were not half-wit, they would be able to recognize how outstanding Penelope Featherington is.