After the concerto, Penelope Featherington found herself in the Bridgerton carriage, being escorted home by Viscount Anthony Bridgerton. The evening had been unexpectedly pleasant, despite the cacophony of the Smythe-Smith musical.
The lone carriage rattled to a stop in front of the Featherington estate, the hooves of the horses clopping against the cobblestones. Penelope smoothed her skirts as the Viscount Anthony Bridgerton opened the carriage door, offering his hand to assist her out. She placed her gloved hand in his and alighted, the evening air carrying the scents of jasmine and night-blooming cereus.
As they turned towards the home's entrance, a figure stepped out of the shadows. Colin stood apart from the front steps, hands shoved deep into his pockets as he scuffed at the cobblestones with the toe of one boot.
Anthony's brows drew together in a forbidding line as he caught sight of his younger brother. "Colin?" He questioned, voice low with disapproval. "What is the meaning of this unannounced visit at such an hour?
The third Bridgerton male straightened, shooting Penelope a look rife with uncharacteristic nerves. "I… that is, I had hoped to have a quick word. With Miss Featherington."
Anthony's eyes narrowed. "Now?" The Viscount's tone sharpened like a whip-crack. "Surely this can wait until tomorrow? It is well past midnight, and hardly appropriate to be calling on a lady unannounced."
Colin swallowed hard, desperation in his eyes. "There is no better time than now."
Anthony's keen gaze took in the slight flush on Colin's cheeks and the faint scent of spirits. "You've had a drink or two haven't you?"
Colin, fidgeting, nodded slightly. "Yes, but that's beside the point. I realize the timing is.. Unconventional. But I assure you, I only wish –"
Anthony was ready to rebuke his brother again when Penelope's voice cut through the tension. "It's alright, Anthony. I will speak with him briefly."
All eyes swiveled towards Penelope at her soft interjection. She held Colin's gaze steadily, her chin lifted with poise despite the tightness about her eyes.
"A brief conversation in the gardens would be acceptable." She qualified calmly. "If Mister Bridgerton wishes." Penelope couldn't bear the thought of her family overhearing whatever this was about.
Colin bobbed an eager nod, gratitude written plainly across his features. But Anthony's jaw ticked with obvious reluctance before finally inclining his head in a sharp dip.
Shooting a warning glance at his younger brother, Anthony acquiesced with a curt nod. "Very well. But I shall accompany you to chaperone.."
Stifling an eye roll at his overprotective bluster, Penelope turned on her heel and led the way across the quiet grounds. She could feel Colin's presence like a specter at her back, Anthony's heavy footfalls bringing up the rear as self-appointed chaperone.
When they reached the shadowy seclusion of the gardens, blessed night breezes caressing her flushed cheeks, Penelope turned to Colin directly.
"Well?" She prompted, aiming for briskness. "You have my ear, Mister Bridgerton."
Colin fidgeted, toying with the brim of his coat as he struggled for words. His gaze skittered everywhere but her face – Anthony's silent imposing figure, the stone pathways, the rustling shrubbery – before finally landing squarely on Penelope's composed features.
"I've come to apologize." He said at last in a rush. "For words terribly misspoken at Featherington Ball seasons ago. Calling you undesirable, insinuating you unworthy of courtship.. It was deplorable behavior."
Colin thrust his free hand through his hair, an agitated gesture. "I fear I had consumed rather too much spirits that evening." He confessed ruefully. "But even inebriated, those insults were inexcusable. They do not reflect my true sentiments in the slightest."
Penelope remained silent, utterly impassive, refusing to grant him even a flicker of emotion with which to judge her inner turmoil. After a protracted beat of discomfort, Colin ventured on.
"I profoundly regret injuring you so, Pen. You, who have been nothing but a steadfast friend through all my family's ups and downs." His eyes were wide and sincere, almost pleading when he murmured. "Might you find it possible to forgive me?"
Lifting her chin a fraction higher, Penelope Featherington pursed her lips in careful consideration. Her stomach felt like lead, recalling only too vividly the stinging humiliation of Colin's scathing barbs. Spewed so carelessly from one she'd held in the highest confidence..
"Colin, what's done is done. You cannot take back your words. Of all people, I never imagined it would be you who would say such things. I cannot simply forget the words spoken, nor the hurt they have caused. Time may heal the pain, but it won't erase the memory of the humiliation." She said at length, tone clipped.
Colin's shoulders sagged. "I understand, Pen. I cherish your friendship more than I can rightly express. And I know I have wronged you utterly. But please, if you cannot forgive me as your friend, please find it to consider forgiving me as a brother. We.. We will soon be family.. Once you marry Anthony."
Penelope's eyes widened slightly at the reminder of her upcoming marriage to Anthony. She quickly regained her composure, her smile cold, suddenly eager to be away from his earnest gaze and back in the refuge of her bedchambers. "We shall speak no more of the matter. Good night, Mister Bridgerton."
"Pen –" Colin's hand snaked out as if to detain her, but Anthony's large palm clamped down on his forearm like an iron vise.
"Colin." The Viscount intoned, his rich baritone brokering precisely zero argument. "I believe Penelope has conveyed her position with admirable clarity. It grows late, and we shall not impose further."
Colin yielded with obvious reluctance, subsiding into a curt bow. "Very well. I.. Thank you, Penelope. For your time."
Without deigning to respond, Penelope turned her back and continued on towards the house. As she turned away, she stole one last look at Anthony. The Viscount's expression was of pain and heartache, and something flickered in his gaze… Worry? Concern? Penelope felt an unfamiliar flutter in her chest before shaking it off and continuing into the house, leaving the Bridgerton brothers behind in the fragrant garden.
Only once she reached the front steps and the heavy oaken door shuddered closed behind her did she dare release the shaky breath pent up in her lungs. Colin's apology may have been sincere, but any hope of their rapport regaining its former ease had been dashed to splinters that night.
And Anthony, curse him, with his hypersensitive perception, would surely not have missed the hairline cracks of hurt his own brother had wrought upon her heart.
—-
Penelope awoke with a heavy feeling in her chest. She had tossed and turned most of the night, replaying the events from the previous evening over and over in her mind's eye. Colin's pained apology, her own stoic rejection of his pleas for forgiveness. But most vividly burned into her memory was the troubled expression on Anthony's face as she had turned and left the brothers in the garden.
She had expected to be distraught over facing Colin again after his callous words at the Featherington ball. To have her long-buried feelings for him stirred up and her resolve tested. But instead, it was the image of Anthony, his brown eyes clouded with worry and sadness, that had kept her awake into the early hours.
Why did he seem so troubled? Penelope wondered. Was he aware of her former affections for Colin and feared a relapse? The thought made her cheeks burn with shame. Had she been so transparently lovesick all those years that even Anthony could discern it? The question of why Anthony had appeared so resigned filled her mind, but another revelation soon overtook it: she had referred to Colin as her "former" love.
The word "former" gave Penelope pause. Former affections for Colin… did that mean her feelings had truly changed? She thought back on her interactions with the Bridgerton brothers of late. While Colin's presence no longer made her heart flutter with girlish fancy, the same could not be said for Anthony.
In the weeks since reconciling their ruse of a courtship, Penelope found herself actively seeking out the Viscount's company. What had begun as a tolerable engagement had somehow shifted into something… more. She delighted in their heated banter, their schemes and plans to ruffle against each other's feathers. When Anthony would flash that rare, lopsided smile or look at her with scorching intensity, she felt her body grow warm and a contented sigh escape her lips.
Anthony's devilish smile, his handsome features, his authoritative presence, and his gentlemanly behavior captivated her. And that heart-stopping kiss in the Bridgerton gardens… Penelope unconsciously raised her fingers to her lips, as if she could still feel the ghost of Anthony's insistent mouth on hers. She had never imagined such dizzying passion could exist between them.
Whereas her affection for Colin had been a sweet, unfulfilled fantasy of youth, what she felt for Anthony was altogether different. Deeper, more visceral, igniting a fierce longing in her core to be near him, to spar wits, to feel his penetrating gaze. Perhaps it was even… Love?
Anthony's unwavering efforts to help her regain memories of their courtship were undeniable. And with everyone around them attesting to their shared love, Penelope couldn't help but believe that their relationship was a true love match. The idea was not as frightening as Penelope would have expected. Quite the opposite, it filled her with a sense of rightness, as if some part of her had been waiting for this all along. For him.
The mere thought of Anthony stirred something deep within her, a feeling that was only amplified in his presence. Determined to address whatever might have worried him the previous night, Penelope decided to wait for his call. She needed to ensure that nothing about her and Colin had troubled the Viscount's mind.
A contented smile curved Penelope's lips as she resolved to speak with Anthony. She owed him an explanation, a reassurance that her heart was entirely his now. That any worries over lingering feelings for Colin were unfounded. Perhaps she would even confess the new emotions blossoming within her.
—-
The morning dragged interminably for Penelope as she awaited Anthony's anticipated call. But as the hours ticked by with no sign of the Viscount, disappointment weighed heavily in her chest. Had the events of the previous evening affected him more than she realized?
She could no longer sit idly, her restless mind spinning endless scenarios of what could be troubling Anthony so. Penelope resolved to seek him out herself at the Bridgerton estate. If he would not come to her, she would go to him.
The familiar facade of the Bridgerton home loomed before her, and Penelope felt her nerves flutter. What if Anthony was too discomposed to receive her? But she straightened her shoulders determinedly as Humboldt opened the door, his warm smile welcoming her like the lady of the house she was soon to officially become.
"Miss Featherington, to what do we owe the pleasure?" The butler inquired.
"I've come to call on Lord Bridgerton." Penelope replied steadily. "Might he be available?"
"Of course, of course. Right this way."
Humboldt led her through the elegant halls to just outside Anthony's study and bid her before departing along with Penelope's lady's maid. Penelope took a fortifying breath rapping lighty on the door.
"Come in." came the muffled response.
She turned the handle slowly, not wishing to disturb if Anthony was in deep concentration over some important matter of business or estate. As she crossed the threshold, Penelope caught him raising his head, surprise flitting across his features when he registered her presence.
"Penelope.." Anthony greeted, a slight tremor in his voice belying his nerves. Dark circles shadowed his eyes, a clear indication he had not slept well.
"Forgive me, my lord. I didn't mean to interrupt if you are occupied." She said carefully.
He paused, seeming to gather his wits. "No.. no, I am not otherwise engaged. Even if I was, for you, I would not be too busy."
A sad smile curved Penelope's lips at his words. "I had hoped you might join me for a walk about the park? Only if you are amenable, of course."
Anthony's expression brightened somewhat, perhaps relieved at her simple invitation. "Yes, yes I would like that very much."
It was the first time since regaining her lost memories that Penelope had initiated spending time together outside societal obligations. Anthony seemed to realize that too, his eyes studying her with cautious optimism. Perhaps a stroll through the park would provide them both an opportunity to unburden their minds of whatever troubles had kept them from restful slumber.