As Anthony joined their tea in his fencing attire, Violet couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "Anthony, darling, perhaps you should change into something more appropriate for tea?"

Anthony, not wanting to be away from Penelope's presence so soon, gave a smug smile. "Of course, mother, but not before I properly bid farewell to Miss Featherington." He turned to Penelope, his eyes softening. Taking a lock of her red hair between his fingers, he pressed it to his lips, inhaling her scent deeply.

Penelope blushed furiously, as red as a tomato, while the Bridgerton ladies nearby exchanged amused glances. Francesca giggled behind her hands, Eloise snorted at her brother's overly display and Violet couldn't suppress a knowing smile.

"Until I return." Anthony murmured, his voice low and intimate. Penelope could only nod, her heart racing.

As soon as the Viscount left the room, Eloise gathered her courage. She turned to Penelope, her expression earnest. "Penelope, could we speak privately?"

Penelope looked at her friend, noting the seriousness in her eyes. She glanced at Violet, who gave her a gentle nod of encouragement. Taking a final sip of her tea, Penelope agreed. "Of course, Eloise."

The gentle fragrance of roses and freshly trimmed hedges enveloped them as Eloise led Penelope through the French doors and into the Bridgertons' secluded garden. Wordlessly, she guided her friend over to the swing set sequestered beneath an emerald-green arbor, the very picture of a bucolic girlhood haven.

As they settled onto the time-worn planks, the weight of unspoken history seemed to lodge itself in Penelope's throat. How many afternoons had they whiled away here as inseparable confidences, two plucky dreamers against the world? Now, the chasm of forgotten trust and wounded bonds stretched between them, raw and palpable.

For several moments, the only sounds were the chirping of birds and the faint lilt of laughter drifting from the house. Penelope did not rush her friend, merely turned an open, questioning look onto Eloise as the brunette finally broke the stifling quiet.

"I've made such an utter horror of things between us, haven't I?" She asked, voice pitched low and wretched.

Penelope remained quiet, allowing Eloise to continue. "I was so hurt and angry when I found out you were Lady Whistledown." Eloise said. "I felt betrayed that you didn't tell me, your best friend. And then, when I had to end things with Theo because of the scandal.. I was devastated. But that doesn't excuse the hurtful things I said to you."

Immediately, the dam burst, words spilling forth in a torrential outpouring. "That wretched night at your family's ball.. The things I flung at you in selfish pique over the Whistledown charade – utterly unforgivable. You'd every right to abandon me as a fair-weather friend after that unpardonably lapse, Pen."

Penelope nodded, her expression unreadable.

Eloise looked up then, huge hazel eyes brimming with remorse. "It's only then, after nearly losing you forever to that cursed accident, that I've come to realize just how irreplaceable you are truly to me."

Penelope Featherington felt her throat constrict with a welter of emotions at the naked pain etched in her friend's features. After so many years of steadfast sisterhood, she knew the rift between them had gnawed at Eloise just as keenly as herself.

Before Penelope could formulate a response, the brunette was pressing on in a fervent deluge. "When they brought you in from that horrible wreck.. God, Pen, you can't know the terror I felt. Not for losing Whistledown's identity - no, something far more precious was nearly snatched away through my own blasted obstinance!"

She reached out, snagging Penelope's hands in an almost bruising grip. "The thought of never regaining your friendship, never being able to beg your forgiveness for my hateful words.. It unmanned me in a way I've never before known. You are the very dearest of confidantes to me, Penelope Featherington, and I could not bear losing that bond through my own foolish pride."

Finally, the words came for Penelope, thick and tremulous. "Oh Eloise.. You were well in your rights to feel such hurt and betrayal. My secret caused you such grievous injury.. I should have told you. But I was afraid of putting you in danger. I didn't want you to be implicated in any of this, which eventually did.. I was afraid of your reaction.. Afraid you would not accept me as the pen behind those gossip sheets –"

"No!" Eloise interjected fiercely, giving her friend's hands an emphatic shake. "Do not make excuses for me, Pen. Not a single justification exists for how I compounded your pain that night with my violence and scorn. After your accident.. Well, I realized just how precious our bond is to me."

She took a shuddering breath, fingers tightening almost feverishly around Penelope's. "Which is why I had to take up Whistledown's quill in your stead during your recovery. The ton could not suspect your absence from its hierarchy of scandal. So I published in your name, continued the charade so none could ever link the incapacitated Penelope Featherington with Lady Whistledown's infamy."

Eloise laughed, a watery, tremulous exhalation. "As if I'd ever let our Queen uncover the truth and risk harming you further. Not on my life, my dearest friend. Not after I'd already proven so wretched a disappointment to you once before."

For several suspended heartbeats, the enormity of Eloise's penance resonated between them like the peal of a solemn church bell. Tears swam in Penelope's vision as the truth washed over her in wave after cathartic wave.

So many hurts still lingering, yet tempered by the searing loyalty of their friendship's truest heart...

Penelope squeezed back Eloise's hand gently. "We're both at fault, Eloise. But I'm glad we can talk about this now. I've missed you terribly."

Eloise smiled through her tears. "I've missed you too, Pen. Can we.. can we start over?"

Penelope returned her smile warmly. "I'd like that very much."

"I was so very afraid, El." She confessed in a choked whisper. "That in regaining my life, I may have lost my dearest ally forever.."

Gathering her friend into a fierce embrace, Penelope murmured fiercely against her hair. "But no more, I promise. We must put the past's injuries behind us, you and I. The reparations have been made and accepted - our bond shall endure, I swear to you."

As they pulled back, Eloise wiped her tears away and laughed softly. "You know, Anthony is going to be insufferable now that he has gained me back a rival for your attentions."

Penelope arched an inquisitive brow at her friend. "Whatever do you mean?"

Eloise shot her a look dripping with dramatic exaggeration. "Why, the epic struggle to retain any scrap of your attentions once a certain besotted Viscount catches wind of our newly restored confidences!"

Instantly, Penelope felt her cheeks flood with telltale warmth at the oblique reference to Anthony. She waved a dismissive hand despite the hot tendril of awareness unfurling low in her belly. "Surely you exaggerate, Eloise. Whatever romantic affections existed between your brother and I have been.. Severed, for lack of a better term."

Eloise's eyes underwent an impressive bout of widening and narrowing in rapid succession. "Severed?" She echoed incredulously. "Pen, have you seen the way that man can't so much as draw breath without drinking you in like a parched wanderer in the bloody Sahara?"

Flapping one hand in a gesture of resigned exasperation, she pressed on. "Mark my words, once Anthony has even an inkling of me monopolizing your attentions again, he shall be utterly insufferable in his efforts to reclaim your undivided focus!"

Despite herself, a tiny kernel of wistful longing bloomed in Penelope's chest at her friend's candid assessment. Hurriedly, she tamped down the spark before it could rekindle further.

"Be that as it may." She replied loftily. "Lord Bridgerton and I have already had such.. Unpleasantries aired between us. He knows full well the score - that any notion of matrimonial felicity has been suspended indefinitely."

Eloise's brows hiked upward in a most unladylike manner. "Felicity, you say? My dear Pen, the man is utterly besotted with you! One might as well insist the sun no longer burns as try to persuade Anthony into relinquishing his pursuit of your hand!"

Squirming a bit at her friend's brazen assessment, Penelope felt compelled to offer. "Well, there is.. One other aspect that may complicate matters further between us."

Curiosity flickered over the brunette's features, dragging her out of her teasing reverie. "Oh? Do elucidate, I'm on tenterhooks now!"

Penelope drew a steadying breath. There was no point prevaricating or withholding any longer - Eloise deserved the truth. "I.. I've made full confession to Lord Bridgerton regarding my being Lady Whistledown."

For a suspended beat, the garden seemed to crystallize around them in frozen tableau. Then Eloise's jaw dropped in a most unbecoming manner.

"Penelope Featherington!" She gasped out. "Are you telling me that, that boorish brother of mine had –"

Eloise's words broke off with a tiny eep! As a throat cleared pointedly from somewhere behind them. In unison, both young ladies swiveled to find the object of their impassioned discussion standing mere feet away.

Anthony regarded them with an amused quirk of one brow, hands tucked casually into his waistcoat. "There you are." The Viscount said, his voice filled with relief. "I've been looking for you both."

Turning towards his sister Eloise, he dipped his head in a semblance of regretful courtesy. "I'm afraid I shall have to claim the pleasure of Penelope's company from this point on, dear sister."

The young brunette shot Penelope a martyred look, as if to say told-you-so before expelling a long-suffering sigh. "Very well, very well. I know when I'm outmatched in the schemes of lovelorn rakes!"

With a defiant pivot, she brushed past her brother with a final apologetic glance to Penelope. Anthony watched her depart with an indulgent shake of his head before turning back to Penelope with a look utterly devoid of apology.

"May I?" He asked, gesturing to the swing next to hers.

Penelope nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. "Of course."

The old swing set creaked softly as Anthony lowered himself down beside Penelope. She turned to him with a wistful smile, taking in the familiar surroundings of the garden they sat in.

"This is where we started our courtship." Anthony said, his voice hushed but rich with emotion.

Penelope looked at him, curiosity and confusion mingling in her eyes. "It is?"

Anthony reached over, taking her hand in his. "It was late at night, the moon high and full, bathing you in its ethereal glow. You looked positively breathtaking."

He paused, his eyes intense as he studied her face, as if committed every curve and angle to memory once more. "I knew right then that I wanted to be at your side forever. To be the one who could always make you smile."

Penelope felt her cheeks warming at his tender words. Anthony continued. "You had confided your worries about being the emerald of the season. How your lack of memories from before might work against you.."

"I don't recall that." Penelope murmured, her heart racing. How she wished she could remember those seemingly precious moments.

"You were afraid." Anthony said gently. "But I vowed then and there to never let you face the cruel realities of society alone. It was that night I asked for your permission to court you. And wonder of all wonders..." He raised her knuckles to his lips, bruising a featherlight kiss there. "You said yes."

Penelope's breath caught in her throat at the intimate gesture. "My lord.."

"We may not have started as a love match.." Anthony admitted. "But even then, I harbored feelings for you. Feelings that only grew deeper with each passing day of our courtship." His thumb caressed her skin. "Until I knew without a doubt that I loved you, Penelope. And amazingly, you came to return those feelings."

Tears burned in Penelope's eyes at his impassioned confession. She felt unworthy of such profound devotion from this wonderful man. "I'm so sorry, I wish I could remember.."

Anthony hushed her with a tender shush. "Never mind that now, my love." He lifted his free hand to cup her cheek, his touch scorching her very soul. "Your mind may not recall our romance, but your heart remembers the way it beats for me."

As if to prove his point, Penelope's pulse fluttered wildly in her throat at his proximity, his woodsy scent and heated gaze consuming her senses. Her body most certainly recognized its longing for him, even if her mind felt lost.

"My body remembers you." She breathed, scarcely daring to blink for fear this moment would vanish. "Even if my mind does not."

"Then trust your body's memory." Anthony rumbled, closing the distance between them. "For it knows the truth of our love, my dearest Penelope.."

His lips captured hers in a searing, passionate kiss that finally allowed Penelope to truly feel the echoes of the powerful bond they had forged.