A/N:HELLO!

Man, guys, I'm so sorry for how long it took me to update this? As some of you know, I am writing two fics at once, so it can get a bit overwhelming, although, it wasn't just that but my own work getting in the way. But I am here now!

Now, before we start, let me just say two things: 1- I am trying to follow the episode structure from part 2 so maybe this will have about 5 chapters (but maybe more, for anyone that knows me, sometimes my chapters get too long and I need to split them). 2- Initially, I will follow the themes they added on part 2 (every chapter kind of paralleling an episode from the show), but we will slowly diverge more and more from what happened in those episodes.

That being said, enjoy!

If things had gone the way Colin expected, he would have experienced an entirely different scenario upon coming home.

However, life has a way of proving one wrong repeatedly, as he knew for a fact after accepting that, contrary to his initial beliefs, his feelings for Penelope went beyond mere friendship.

And that, despite their friendship, Penelope had been lying to him for years.

"Colin?"

As he turned towards his mother's voice, he couldn't help but notice the worry etched on her face, her brow furrowed in concern.

Violet was in the drawing room with Francesca and Hyacinth, discussing who knew what. Not that it made a difference. His head was so crowded with thoughts, worries, and distractions that he couldn't focus on anything as trivial as what had happened at the ball.

"I shall retire to my chamber for some rest," he told her, desperate for a few moments of solitude.

As Violet noticed that something was clearly wrong, she moved towards the hallway, causing Francesca and Hyacinth to cast worried looks at her due to the noticeable change in her behaviour.

In a gentle tone, she leaned against the threshold and asked, "Did you… Did you find the ball enjoyable?"

Colin knew what she was asking. Afterall, he wasn't even supposed to be at the ball, but he had decided to go, hadn't he? After Violet not so subtly mentioned Penelope's imminent engagement, he had run like a fool to stop it and while he had succeeded, he definitely hadn't stopped being a fool.

"It was..." he trailed off, his head tilting as his hands clenched into fists by his sides. "Alright."

Casting a discerning gaze upon him, Violet nodded in acknowledgement, her eyes conveying an immediate realisation that something had gone awry.

Colin then nodded in return, preparing to retire to his chamber just as he had promised, when a fourth person emerged into view. She approached Violet, curious to observe her conversation with her third son.

Behind their mother, Eloise furrowed her eyebrows at the sight of him, her mind instantly transported back to the scene he had caused with Penelope during their dance with Lord Debling. And all of a sudden, he had already returned home?

In contrast, her brother had something completely different in mind. It all made sense in an instant, especially the rift between Eloise and Penelope.

"May I have a word with you?" Colin said, looking at his sister and disregarding all the other curious looks.

All the other women shifted their gazes to her, causing Eloise to lean her head back in surprise. Then, just to confirm, she pointed at herself and asked, "Me?"

With his jaw tightly clenched, Colin nodded sharply, too drained to articulate another word.

Eloise blinked in confusion, wondering why Colin would want to talk to her so late at night. While everyone else stared at her, she decided to follow him, astounded by the unprecedented seriousness on her brother's face.

As they entered the study room, the darkness engulfed them, prompting him to quickly make his way to the desk. Once there, he lit a candle, casting a warm, flickering glow. Eloise closed the door behind her, her footsteps echoing through the room as she cautiously approached Colin, who now leaned over the desk and fixed her with a piercing glare.

"What is it? What could you possibly wish to discuss?" she asked.

"How long have you known?" he interrupted her.

Confused, she halted for a moment, trying to understand what he was referring to. However, as she gazed into his unwavering eyes, eerily illuminated by the dim glow, a strange intuition washed over her.

Swallowing hard, her voice dropped to a whisper as she asked, "What are you referring to?"

"Penelope," he said, a single word that conveyed a world of meaning. "How long have you known?"

Staring at him, Eloise was momentarily lost for words. "I'm not quite certain what—" a foolishly devoted part of her still hesitated to discuss the matter unless she was absolutely sure.

With a huff, Colin shot her a piercing glare and exclaimed, "Lady Whistledown," before striding around the table and making his way towards her. "Lady Whistledown and Penelope, how long have you known, Eloise?"

"Will you be quiet?" She hissed, slanted towards him, nearly covering his lips with her hands to try to silence his voice from rising. As he stared at her with a mix of shock and disbelief, she softly whispered, "A few months, alright? Since the Featherington ball last season."

Despite his unreadable gaze, Eloise's picked up on a faint trace of disappointment in Colin's eyes, causing her to feel a pang of guilt and prompting her to avert her gaze.

"That is the cause of the conflict between the two of you," he declared, and she nodded in agreement. "Why... why have you not told anyone?" he asked.

Eloise's lips pressed into a thin line as she realised she was unprepared for the question she had feared the most. "I was..." she struggled to speak, her throat tightening and her eyes becoming moist. "Too devastated to discuss it. Sometimes, the mere thought of it hurts."

With a nod, her brother's fists clenched tightly at his side, his jaw set in a firm line, and his gaze fixed downward.

"And," she continued, a sense of shame causing her to close her eyes. "It is as though a misguided part of me remains loyal to her. Despite all circumstances, my efforts to suppress it remain in vain."

When Colin observed Eloise, he came to the realisation that he had no idea what to say in response. Although he was angry that she had kept such a secret—the same one that Penelope had maintained—he also fully comprehended her emotions.

"What about you?" Eloise's eyes scanned his contemplative expression as she muttered.

He raised his eyebrow and inquired, "What about me?"

"You vowed to ruin her life, brother," Eloise recalled with the utmost clarity. And perhaps a clarity that her brother did not share, as his eyes seemed to spark with remembrance only then. "What are you planning to do?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

As he tilted his head, the memory of his lips touching Penelope's flashed through his mind. What a ludicrous turn his life had taken—proposing to none other than Lady Whistledown on that very night.

"I do not know," he replied honestly.

Eloise nodded, but then her face contorted slightly as she inquired, "How did you come to know?"

Another vivid memory of his lips on Penelope's neck flashed through Colin's mind, causing him to instinctively loosen the tight cravat around his neck before saying, "Does it matter?"

The woman arched her eyebrows, realising that it was truly inconsequential, but his actions were undeniably peculiar.

Nevertheless, Colin promptly concluded the conversation and made his way to the door, inadvertently neglecting to extinguish the candle on his desk.

Dearest gentle reader,

While most seasons of our fair marriage market follow a predictable pattern, this author likes it most when there is a surprise.

It is said that a surprise is one part secret and one part speed. And last night, an announcement came with great speed, indeed.

Much to everyone's astonishment, Lord Debling abruptly ended his courtship with Miss Penelope Featherington, despite his widely known fondness for her.

It has been suggested that the sight of Mr Bridgerton disrupting the dance between Miss Featherington and Lord Debling was the cause of this change of heart, resulting in a considerable commotion. Although the exact reason for this rude interruption is yet to be determined, its consequences have now been brought to light.

Maybe this rather unfavourable result could function as a cautionary message for all future unmarried debutants, underscoring the potential contrary effect of seeking assistance from an eligible suitor in the marriage market, as Miss Featherington has experienced time and time again.

Whether this message of caution will be heeded or not remains to be seen.

Yours truly,

Lady Whistledown

The news that greeted London in the morning was unexpected, causing surprise for some and confusion for others.

Violet Bridgerton, a member of the latter group, folded the newest Lady Whistledown pamphlet, unsure of its meaning. Upon her son's arrival home the previous day, exhibiting an unfavourable demeanour, she conjectured that Penelope was betrothed to Lord Debling. But now, thanks to that same son, she knew that couldn't be further from the truth.

But, where was Colin?

She could swear she had not seen him all morning. In the drawing room, Francesca, Gregory, and Hyacinth were present, but Colin and Eloise had been missing since the previous night. And if she made an effort to be more observant, Benedict seemed to do the same, but it was best not to delve into that mystery.

"My Lady," Mrs Wilson called from the door. And as Violet turned to her, she continued, "The Viscount and the Viscountess have returned."

With excitement gleaming in her eyes and a radiant smile, Violet stood up immediately and dashed downstairs, with her three children in tow. Seeing Kate and Anthon arrive was a refreshing sight, bringing a wave of good news and a positive atmosphere amidst the recent confusion their family had been facing.

Violet and Hyacinth were the initial ones to joyfully embrace the couple, with Gregory and Francesca quickly joining in, happy to have them back.

"I could get used to long journeys if every return was like this," Anthony teased, reflecting on his previous reputation as the sibling that everyone avoided instead of welcoming.

"Kate, you appear absolutely stunning," Hyacinth remarked, gently grasping the Viscountess' hands, "The journey has evidently had a positive impact on you."

Overwhelmed by the pride and joy of impending fatherhood, Anthony gazed at Kate with a radiant smile and exclaimed, "She does look beautiful, does she not?"

His wife cast a glance over her shoulder, a broad smile playing on her lips, but the slight squint in her eyes hinted at a warning not to be too sentimental.

"Why? Is there anything that we need to be informed about?" Violet interrupted their quiet conversation.

Caught off guard, Anthony's mouth opened and closed in a futile attempt to find the right words. He glanced nervously at Kate, their furtive gestures only intensifying the air of suspicion. He couldn't help but marvel at Violet's uncanny ability to discern the unspoken thoughts of her children, wondering if he would ever acquire the same gift.

As Kate stared at her blundering husband, she couldn't help but feel a rush of affection wash over her. Even though she was reluctant to share the news with her family at such an early stage, she found it endearing how he couldn't hide his enthusiasm when he was truly passionate about something.

She shifted her attention back to her mother-in-law and Anthony's siblings, anxiously playing with her hands before finally blurting out, "Uh... we're pregnant."

Upon hearing the news, four sets of eyes widened comically, which was followed by an eruption of excited exclamations and even tighter hugs than they had previously received.

"This is…" Violet said this while still holding Kate tightly. And as she leaned back and stared both and her and Anthony, she continued, "the most wonderful news," she said sincerely.

"Thank you, mama," Anthony said, smiling back at her. She couldn't help but be transported back to a time when Anthony was still young and carefree, before the burden of Edmund's passing changed everything. A sight that was becoming increasingly common since he had married Kate.

"Perhaps we could organise a baby shower," Hyacinth suddenly exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement, catching everyone's attention.

Kate and Francesca laughed at the suggestion, as it appeared that the youngest Bridgerton had made it out of sheer excitement. Such parties are extremely rare in Mayfair, if they even happen at all.

However, Violet tilted her head, mulling over her daughter's seemingly frivolous suggestion. "Why not?" she asked.

Kate's head cleared almost instantly, and she blinked in surprise as her eyes focused on the older woman. "Lady Bridgerton, I—"

Violet soon took her hands, noticing Kate slip her formal name as she still would occasionally. "My dear, you have brought such joy to this household with your delightful news," she whispered, leaning in ever so slightly as if sharing a secret. "I have longed for a gathering with just us ladies for quite some time. What do you say?"

Kate couldn't help but smile at that. Tilting her head, she gazed at Francesca, who appeared to have taken a liking to the suggestion as well. And if the quieter Bridgerton herself didn't mind, she wouldn't either.

So, with a nod from the Viscountess and excited squeals from Hyacinth, Mayfair was about to experience its first baby shower in a long time.

Penelope had stayed in bed all day.

Honestly, she found no motivation to get out of bed because she knew that once she did, she would have to accept the reality that she had to ruin her own reputation yet again just to avoid suspicion.

Once again, her association with Colin was causing damage to her reputation, her thoughts reminded her, compelling her to toss and turn in bed and hide under the covers. Alas, if Lady Whistledown had dared to speak the whole truth, her connection with Colin would have forever tarnished her standing in society.

Unbidden, the memory of his lips pressing against her neck, his teeth teasingly biting her, resurfaced, causing her to sit up, her breath catching in her throat. Her hand instinctively went to the tender spot on her throat, a reminder of the bruise that had formed. That would definitely be difficult to conceal, and even more challenging to explain its origin to Rae. Should she inform her that a mosquito had taken quite a liking to that specific spot?

She let out a bitter chuckle and buried her face in her hands.

Just as if on cue, a loud, forceful knock echoed through the door, a sound she immediately recognised as belonging to someone other than her maid.

"Penelope, do you have any intentions of rising from bed today?" Her mother's voice called out from behind the door. The girl in question closed her eyes and sighed as Portia continued, "Do not pretend to be asleep."

With a direct gaze focused on the door, she took a deep breath before stating, "I am indisposed, mama."

In an unexpected turn of events, Portia took it as a cue to open the door rather than simply leaving. Marching into the room, she positioned herself in front of Penelope's bed. Anger radiated from her as she pressed her fingers firmly against her lips, and in her other hand, much to Penelope's dismay, was the latest edition of Lady Whistledown.

As Penelope eyed her own pamphlet, she braced herself for the familiar admonishing words that would soon escape Portia's mouth. After all, the preview of her disappointed speech was given just the night before, before her mother realised the extent of the girl's demise.

"Mama—"

With a simple gesture, Portia raised her index finger, instantly halting her daughter's words as she continued to pace restlessly in front of the bed. "An invitation arrived today. It appears that the Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton and the current Viscountess Bridgerton will be hosting a soiree tomorrow exclusively for the women of society to celebrate the prospective heir to their title."

Penelope furrowed her eyebrows. Prospective heir to the title?

"But..." she trailed off, her brain struggling to keep up with her mother's unexpected tangent, "Is Kate Bridgerton with child?"

Without further elaboration, Portia simply nodded and stated, "We will be in attendance."

Once again, Penelope found herself struggling to understand her mother's words. However, even before that, there was an obvious problem that was impossible to ignore. "Mama, we simply cannot," her mouth blurted out. She had just been accused of being involved in a scandal with a Bridgerton. "You can't possibly expect me to—"

"No," Portia interrupted, raising her index finger once more. "It was not a question, Penelope. I am merely informing you: we will be in attendance."

"You cannot be serious, mama," Penelope exclaimed, her voice rising in a whine that she couldn't help but feel was undignified.

Out of all the absurd tasks her mother had assigned her, this one was the most degrading. She couldn't comprehend why her own family valued her so little. Now that she no longer possessed a lord's ring on her finger, or even the hope of obtaining one, she found herself subjected to fulfilling her mother's every demand, with her own opinions barely holding any significance.

Despite her best efforts to maintain composure in the presence of Portia, Penelope's eyes glistened with unshed tears, and her breath quickened as she gestured towards the paper in her mother's hand.

"Do you really think I'm unaware of what's on that?" she asked. "Of how thoroughly my reputation is tarnished? How can you expect me to enter the Bridgerton house so soon after everything that has happened? People will surely talk—"

"How can you ask me to remain idle?" Portia's frantic pacing came to an abrupt stop as she fixed her daughter with a penetrating gaze, her eyes wide and her expression filled with an unfamiliar intensity. "How frequently must I witness this recurring cycle in which the Bridgerton boy continues to bring ruin upon my family?" She said, uttering the words Bridgerton boy as if they left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Penelope's heart skipped a beat, and she felt a strange flutter in her rib cage. She had to accept that her initial assumption was that Portia would accuse her of causing this mess, as it was the expected response by now. She never expected the woman to have a single protective bone in her body when it came to her.

But then her chest constricted at the sharpness of her words when she mentioned Colin, as if she couldn't hide her contempt for him. Despite her own anger towards the man, Penelope was fully prepared to inform her mother that it wasn't his fault—even if it wasn't completely truthful.

But Portia interrupted before her daughter had a chance to speak.

"Not only did he cause a scandal with Miss Thompson, but I had to endure reading about him ruining you this season not just once, but twice. And I am done reading," she said, moving a little closer to the bed so that her face was nearer to Penelope's. "Despite the mistreatment we endured when Marina's secret was revealed, we did not cower or retreat. And you shall not dare to do that either, do you hear me? We are going, and rest assured, I shall have a most earnest conversation with Lady Bridgerton regarding her son's actions."

The young lady's eyes grew wide, "Mama—"

"Despite the absence of a lord's ring on your finger, you are still my daughter." Portia spoke in a dangerous manner, showing that she was still deeply affected by the accusation Penelope had made against her the night before. As she made her way to the door, she continued speaking, her voice trailing behind her. "The gathering is at 6 o'clock tomorrow; I anticipate your improved condition by then."

As her mother walked through the open door, Penelope couldn't tear her gaze away. She could feel her heart racing, her chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath she took. Her mother was acting insanely, which was unsurprising; she had never seen it happen on her behalf.

"I don't understand why we have to go, it's not like anyone threw a party for my baby," Philippa complained, adjusting her orange and purple shimmery dress as they walked up the entrance stairs to the Bridgerton house.

"Or mine," Prudence grumbled behind her, wrapping her green scarf tighter around her shoulders as the night promised to be chilly.

Portia turned to them as she waited for the footman to announce them, raising her eyebrows as she said, "Well, we don't know which of them will be the heir, do we?"

The two daughters murmured and grumbled, their voices barely audible, as they complained about the Bridgertons' uncertainty about the baby's gender. Meanwhile, Penelope was thankful for her sisters' distraction, as it gave her the opportunity to stay quiet and unnoticed.

Looking over Prudence's shoulder, she couldn't help but feel a wave of dread as she stared at the house that had once been a source of solace for her. If she were fortunate, Colin wouldn't cross paths with her since it was a women-only gathering, and Eloise would magically be absent. However, even that wouldn't prevent her mother from saying whatever she pleased to Lady Bridgerton, so the likelihood of that evening not turning into a complete and utter embarrassment was close to nonexistent.

Nevertheless, upon entering the Bridgerton household, she swiftly came to realise that her luck was exceptionally ill-fated on that specific evening. Just as Kate Bridgerton welcomed them and led them to the drawing room, they ran into the last person she wanted to see.

"Ah. Mr Bridgerton," Portia halted her walking, and consequently all of theirs, to stare at a wide eyed Colin.

Colin, in turn, looked at all of the Featheringtons in the hallway, his expression indicating that if the Queen of England had been present, it would have been less surprising.

Then his gaze settled on Penelope's.

That right there was precisely what Penelope was afraid of. Meeting Colin at his home, surrounded by so many people. Penelope could not even determine whether she wanted to shout at him or apologise, but with so many watching her, she could not do either.

All she could do was maintain eye contact with his piercing blue eyes and resist the urge to glance away. Which was proving to be a near-impossible task, as just being under his determined gaze caused her pulse to race in her ears.

Then, his eyes went to a different part of her body, down and to the right on her neck, where… where she knew there was a bruise from when he kissed her. Then their gazes met again, making her face flush with heat instantly.

"Ladies, please accompany the Viscountess while I have a brief conversation with Mr Bridgerton," Portia requested.

"Mama!" With a sudden exclamation, Penelope's face turned a deeper shade of red. She looked up at her mother, her eyes wide, while Colin's head snapped towards the older woman.

Portia stated that she would speak with Lady Bridgerton, not Colin. Portia expressed her intention to have a conversation with Lady Bridgerton, rather than Colin. Was she completely insane?

"This is not up for debate, Penelope," Portia said in her final tone and all of her daughters knew to obey.

Taking one last look at Colin, the youngest Featherington complied with the directive and joined Kate and her sisters in the drawing room. And the moment they entered, all heads turned towards them simultaneously.

Fantastic, simply fantastic.

Looking around the room, Penelope sought an isolated and vacant seat, longing to disappear and be left alone for the rest of the evening. However, her luck was so astonishing that evening that the only remaining seat was almost right in front of Eloise, who, no, was not mysteriously absent.

Her ex-best friend glanced at her with a startled expression, swiftly diverting her gaze, just as she always did nowadays. And in that moment, Penelope briefly thought about making a dash for the snack table and awkwardly standing there for the rest of the evening, but her sisters had already gone in that direction. And choosing to endure the discomfort alongside Eloise was a far more appealing option than having to listen to them talk about their pregnancies and loudly judge her for eating.

"I... I do not understand a single thing she's doing," Miss Kenworthy expressed her frustration, pointing at Miss Malhotra, while Penelope sat beside her.

Miss Malhotra energetically imitated different actions by the crackling fireplace, endeavouring to communicate her charades effectively to her captivated audience. Penelope, who had competed in numerous game competitions with the Bridgertons, squinted her eyes and immediately grasped the girl's mimicry.

"It's..." she furrowed her eyebrow as she watched Miss Malhotra pretend to write with a quill and then motion to keep quiet by putting a finger to her lips.

"Lady Whistledown," Eloise finished the redhead's hesitant statement.

With a smile on her face, Miss Malhotra laughed and pointed at Eloise, saying, "Precisely, that is correct."

"Are you jesting?" Miss Kenworthy let out a complaint as the other girl eagerly plopped down beside her. "I had expected a greater display of creativity from you."

"Is she not a known criminal?" Miss Malhotra's response was forthright, causing Penelope to cast a perplexed gaze in her direction.

Excitedly standing behind the sofa, Hyacinth leaned on its back to address the ladies, emphasising, "She is anything but a criminal, I must say. She is absolutely brilliant."

A faint smile played on the corner of Penelope's lips as she considered the void left by Hyacinth's absence at every ball. The girl appeared extremely thrilled to finally have the chance to attend a social gathering, and Penelope herself felt happy too. Unfortunately, the redhead had less than 10 seconds to savour that triumph.

"Not a criminal? What is the term for an individual who has a monetary reward offered for their capture?" Miss Kenworthy inquired, her attention shifting towards the youngest member of the Bridgerton family.

Penelope blinked. What?

"The reward is not for apprehending her, but for uncovering her true identity, there is a difference," Hyacinth explained slowly, as if her audience was stupid, and Penelope wondered if that was her case for a second.

Either that or if she was temporarily out of her mind, because while their words were coherent in English, they made no sense to her.

With each passing moment, her corset seemed to squeeze tighter, causing her to gasp for air while she struggled to form a question, "Wha—"

"And how do you anticipate the Queen's reaction when she discovers her true identity?" With a chuckle, Miss Kenworthy raised an eyebrow, her voice laced with sarcasm as she asked, "Pamper her?"

Despite the lively conversation happening between the girls in front of her, Eloise's eyes were fixated on Penelope from her seat. She had an epiphany that something out of the ordinary was occurring her ex-best friend and notorious gossip writer.

She was afraid.

"What… what is it that you are referring to?" Penelope was finally able to ask.

"The Queen has announced a reward for anyone who can provide evidence of Lady Whistledown's true identity." The answer tumbled from Eloise's mouth before the other women had a chance to reply.

With a sudden movement, Penelope's head turned towards her, her chest visibly rising and falling as she steadied herself with a hand on her stomach. In that instant, the two women shared a meaningful gaze, a mutual understanding filling the space between them.

"How much?" Penelope asked, her tone quickly shifting to a clinical one.

Eloise swallowed hard before answering in a hushed tone, "Five thousand pounds."

With her eyebrows furrowed, Penelope directed her gaze towards her lap, nodding in agreement as she pondered the information. Five thousand pounds was a significant sum of money, capable of driving many people to desperate measures.

As she fretted about such matters, her former friend couldn't help but stare, contemplating the fact that he had never witnessed Penelope truly frightened. For years, Eloise had mistakenly believed herself to be the bravest and most brazen of the two, despite the perceived fragility of Penelope. However, she now recognised that the youngest Featherington was anything but.

"Excuse me," Penelope whispered. While the other young women chattered away, Penelope mustered a fake smile and stood up, her breath visibly laboured.

Eloise's body nearly jolted upwards in response. Her gaze followed the petite woman as she gracefully crossed the drawing room and headed towards the door, clearly in a state of distress, yet seemingly invisible to those around her. Forever blending into the background of every gathering. The brunette's muscles froze, urging her to pursue the person who had never been a wallflower to her, despite her mind's reminder that she was supposed to be pretending Penelope was dead.

But before she could make a decision, the author of that final piece of advice appeared, sitting beside her on the sofa, telling her all about her plans to avoid a troublesome engagement.

As her girls disappeared from hearing range, Portia Featherington's attention shifted to Colin Bridgerton.

The man, on the other hand, looked at her with genuine hesitation, fearful of the subject she wanted to bring up. Lady Featherington had a reputation for her bold and opportunistic behaviour, and considering Penelope's recent exposé about herself, it was clear that the upcoming conversation would not bring any positive outcomes.

With a brief narrowing of her eyes, she placed a finger on top of her lips, contemplating her words before stepping closer to him. "Mr Bridgerton, I perceive you as a gentleman of great honour and dignity. I trust you are well-versed in the norms dictating one's social standing, are you not?"

In spite of the compliments, Colin chose not to respond and instead stared at her, convinced that this was likely a trap.

Confirming his suspicion, Portia remained unfazed despite his silence. She glanced around casually, as if discussing the most mundane of topics, and proceeded, "And as a gentleman well-versed in such protocols, I kindly implore you to bestow upon my daughter the knowledge of these rules. You must be familiar with the inclinations of young women: their tendency to be shallow-minded, distracted." She then stared right into his eyes and murmured, "Impressionable."

Colin found himself uncertain of the true intention behind her words, unsure if she meant to criticise Penelope or him. Given the numerous scandals they attracted during that period, it appeared reasonable, but there was something utterly offensive about Portia Featherington passing judgement on them.

And if he were honest, a profound, instinctual part of him felt immediately affronted by the notion that anything that occurred between him and Penelope was due to her being irrational, or even worse, manipulated by him.

"I assure you, Lady Featherington, that your daughter possesses none of these qualities," he responded in a subdued tone.

The woman's green eyes held a dangerous sparkle, and he instantly knew he had made a mistake.

"She must, Mr Bridgerton," she replied, her voice dripping with false innocence, as she tilted her head to stress her theatrics. "These…incomprehensible and lascivious ideas plague her mind. Merely a few months ago, she adamantly professed the outlandish fiction that you and she have inexplicably forged a friendship," she declared with a tone of disbelief, mirroring the sheer absurdity she experienced when Penelope first divulged the news.

A wave of uneasiness washed over Colin. And there were multiple reasons behind it, starting with Portia's lack of awareness, to the point where Penelope had to explicitly state that they were friends, and ending with the discomforting realisation that he partly shared Lady Featherington's viewpoint: something was clearly amiss with the idea of him and Penelope being friends.

However, not for the reasons Porta expected.

"I inform her that it simply cannot be, as you must surely be aware, such a connection between an unwed lady and an eligible suitor would be most inappropriate, to put it mildly," Portia continued. "After all, what father would permit his daughter to be in such intimate company with a man who had no intention of marrying her? And what kind of woman with any sense of dignity would permit such a man to take advantage of her in such a manner?"

As if struck by a blow, he tilted his head back in surprise. "Lady Featherington, I assure you that is not—" he exclaimed, his voice filled with frustration as he tried to refute her sudden and groundless accusation.

"No," Portia interrupted him, raising her finger to silence him. Her piercing glare directed at him left no doubt that this conversation was meant to accuse him. "Mr Bridgerton, rest assured that despite the absence of any male relatives to protect my daughter, she is not without a mother. And since Penelope seems to struggle with understanding the expectations of society, it falls upon me to guide her."

Colin was left utterly bewildered by Portia's unexpected decision to act like a responsible parent to Penelope, unsure of how to respond or even defend himself against her newfound determination.

He had been acquainted with the girl for many years, had been a friend to her for just as long, and her mother had never shown any concern. And even though he knew about all that had occurred between him and Penelope, it wasn't until that particular moment that he grasped how their friendship could have been viewed, had society been more attentive.

"And as you surely understand the intricacies of societal norms, if you desire to converse with my daughter, it is imperative that you seek my consent," Portia declared, her piercing gaze locked onto his, causing his stomach to churn. "However, I will spare you the trouble of inquiring and let you know that I will only give it if your intention is to wed her."

Which, in Portia's perspective, was essentially declaring he would never be given permission as the heavens were destined to pour fire before the day Colin Bridgerton was genuinely interested in her daughter.

"Do we have an understanding, Mr Bridgerton?" she asked.

Colin's heart thumped uncomfortably, and he resisted the temptation of retreating from her by taking a step back. What could he say to that? No?

He then gave a brief nod, unable to trust his voice to provide a composed response.

Portia seemed satisfied with that, and with a quick curtsy, she ended the conversation before heading for the drawing room. While Colin, finally able to escape, headed straight for the study room.

Closing the door behind him, he took a deep breath, attempting to comprehend what had just transpired. He had not fully processed the events of the previous day, and now he had to grapple with even more confusing thoughts.

Running his fingers through his hair and pulling at it, he meticulously examined every small detail that had disturbed him during that conversation.

It wasn't solely about his dislike for the fact that the person who neglected Penelope the most had the authority to reprimand him for his actions towards her. But the fact that the idea he was now officially forbidden to talk to Pen caused a wave of restlessness to course through him.

Granted, Portia was unaware that he had proposed to Penelope just the day before. But it was infinitely more complicated than that. It felt as though Portia's words were a jolt of reality, finally making him acknowledge a fact that he had been consciously avoiding, not just for a few hours, but for days and even weeks.

The friendship he once had with Penelope was over, for about a million different reasons.

In the dimly lit room, he approached the desk at a leisurely pace, unbothered by the lack of candlelight. He plopped down on the chair, his mind racing as he stared off into space, desperately trying to make sense of the whirlwind of events from the last 24 hours.

In the midst of uncertainty and turmoil, a single, striking image consumed his thoughts: the mark he had left on Penelope's neck, concealed only by a strategically placed necklace, yet still unmistakably visible. To him, at least.

And right when his thoughts were beginning to cloud, completely engrossed in that vision, the door burst open.

In an instant, Colin got up, as if he were the one caught red-handed, even though all he had done was sit and allow his feelings to devour him. And then a heavy, wheezing breath broke the silence and drew his gaze.

Squinting in the dimly lit room, he could just barely discern the silhouette of a woman leaning against the door, clutching her chest. A woman he seemed to know well, especially in the dark.

"Pen?" The nickname slipped out of his mouth as a reflex.

Startled, she leapt back, narrowly avoiding hitting her back on the door. "Colin?" Her voice trembled as she asked, her breathing growing even more erratic.

"What are you doing here?" He inquired out of curiosity more than anything else, his feet propelling him to her before his mind could catch up.

As she remained fixated on the door, her eyes never strayed from the floor, and she responded with a breathless tone, "It was…dark. I believed… the room was… empty."

Colin's instincts kicked in as he immediately sensed something was amiss with her, prompting him to take a couple of steps closer. "Pen, are you alright?"

She waved him off with her right hand, trying to convey that he shouldn't worry, but her left hand remained pressed against her chest as she struggled to catch her breath. His body automatically tensed up with worry, causing him to forget about their past anger, fights, and tension.

Leaning over, he carefully rested a hand on her shoulder, adjusting their positions so that their faces were closer in height. "Pen," he called gently, urging the girl to look at him, "What is the matter?"

Despite her overwhelming anxiety, his tender touch and gentle voice managed to break through, coaxing her to raise her gaze and meet his eyes. Even in the darkness of the night, she could still make out the glimmer of concern in them as they scanned her face. It was nearly enough to make her burst into tears on the spot. Since the night before, she carried the fear that she could have lost him forever.

However, there he was, his blue eyes sparkling with kindness.

"I..." she said, her voice trembling as she struggled to compose herself, "The Queen. She announced a reward for..." she trailed off, a knowing look passing between them that made further explanation unnecessary.

Colin immediately straightened up his back, aware that it wasn't just Pen he was talking to at the moment. It had never been just Pen.

But still, he saw her. The genuine fear in her expression, the honest vulnerability in her demeanour. It was obvious that the person standing before him was Penelope, making it impossible to believe that Lady Whistledown had simply been lying and pretending to be someone else. He just was not sure what to do with those conclusions.

The only thing he could be sure of at the time, he assumed, were the nagging feelings of worry consuming him.

How ironic it was that as the long-awaited unmasking of Lady Whistledown drew nearer, he felt nothing but fear in his heart.

"You were unaware?" In the silence, his whispered words resonated with haunting clarity.

Penelope shook her head, a move he could plainly see now that his eyes had adjusted to the dim light. She looked away and stared out the window, uttering, "I have not left the house—" She stopped, realising that her explanation wasn't sufficient, considering that the news had likely already reached her family, just not her. "I have not left my room since yesterday," she explained.

Colin was momentarily speechless, his gaze fixed on her as she averted her eyes and focused on the moonlight streaming through the window. Inside the house, the distant murmurs of conversations and the quick footsteps of the bustling servants filled the air. He only then realised that Penelope's breathing had grown quieter, a fact that became apparent in the suffocating silence surrounding them.

His response could have been that he understood the desire to stay in his room and avoid the rest of the world until it became socially unacceptable, as he had done the exact same thing. Alternatively, he could reassure her that everything will be fine, though this would be purely speculative.

Was he hoping for everything to be fine for Lady Whistledown?

It didn't take long for him to realise, with a sense of fear, that despite feeling angry and hurt, he was, indeed.

"Five thousand pounds is quite a respectable sum," she said, her voice a mixture of self-deprecating humour and subtle suggestion.

"It does not entice me," he responded immediately, his jaw tightening at the topic. "Not that the sum would make any difference," he declared with a hint of defiance.

"Would it not?" she asked and as he only stared back at her in silence, she continued, "Perhaps there could be another motive, if not financial."

And although Colin had initially vowed to destroy Lady Whistledown, her words still managed to deeply offend him. What was her opinion of him, that he could switch so easily from proposing to a woman one day to handing her over to the Queen the next? He began to wonder if they even knew each other.

"Would you pose the same question to Eloise?" Tilting his head, he conveyed both recognition of his conversation with Eloise and his disbelief at her absurd insinuation that he would disclose her identity.

"I certainly considered," she answered with bitterness, surprising him.

Colin paused. He had wrongly assumed that she had been scrutinising him, unaware that her concerns were focused elsewhere. He didn't dare assume it was remorse that he had heard in her voice, as he didn't dare assume he knew Penelope at all anymore.

"Well," he whispered back, his voice barely audible, a soft rasp escaping his throat before he spoke. "I will spare you from an uncomfortable conversation and inform you that it will not affect her either."

Penelope nodded, her eyes fixed on the ground as she tightly pressed her lips together. In that bizarre situation, she wasn't sure where anyone stood, but regardless, a wave of relief washed over her.

Once more, they stood silently, and she could barely make out the sound of Colin swallowing nervously in front of her. Throughout their long-lasting friendship, she couldn't remember a single instance when they experienced uncomfortable, stifling silence. And yet, that was the place where they had repeatedly found themselves.

And then she remembered a topic she needed to bring up. With a clearing of her throat, she directed her gaze towards Colin. "Um..." she hesitated before asking, "What was it that my mother wished to discuss with you?"

Colin appeared frozen in place when confronted with that question, avoiding eye contact and displaying a pained expression as he glanced out the window.

"I apologise for that," Penelope said without knowing the exact words Portia had said, but she could sense her usual rudeness nonetheless. "She is angry because of… my failed engagement," she admitted, feeling a lump in her throat as she recalled how sensitive the topic was for both of them. "And that I was mentioned on Whistledown again. It has nothing to do with…" Her words trailed off, leaving a lingering presence in the air, a feeble attempt to convince him it had no connection to him, despite the undeniable truth that he was intertwined with all of those things.

The moonlight cast a gentle glow on his face as he shook his head, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on the window. "She is not incorrect, not completely," he murmured, withholding the exact words Portia had spoken, yet catching Penelope's attention nonetheless. Colin then turned to her, his face concealed in shadows once more. "She said little," he lied, before confessing the one topic she would inevitably uncover: "However, it is important for me to disclose that I am no longer allowed to communicate with you."

"What?" Penelope's voice grew louder as she instinctively moved forward. "Why would she—"

"You know why," he whispered softly.

It was her turn to freeze as she stared at him. It was ridiculous that they were acting as if it was such a great loss that they were not allowed to talk again; they had been at each other's throats just the day before, and she did not even know if Colin wanted to speak with her again.

And that was the heart of the matter, wasn't it? While he had proposed to her out of propriety, she was still unsure whether he genuinely wanted to speak with her again. Because, for starters, it seemed that Eloise did not.

"I believe that I..." she swallowed nervously, "I should return promptly, lest they become aware of my absence."

Colin nodded, and then he remembered why she had arrived in that room in the first place. "Are you feeling well enough to venture outside?" he asked.

Her eyebrow furrowed as she contemplated both his concern and her own uncertainty about her psychological well-being. Finally, she replied, "I believe so."

"I shall accompany you." The words tumbled out before he could stop himself, his instinct to support Penelope always prevailing.

Upon hearing his suggestion, she reacted with a subtle widening of her eyes, leaving him unsure if it was because she understood how unusual the offer was given their relationship status, or because he had just disclosed that they were not supposed to be seen together in public.

He chose to acknowledge the second supposition only.

"Should your mother catch sight of us, I will simply act as if I was on my way to another area of the house and our encounter was coincidental," he said, raising his eyebrows as he leaned over her to turn the doorknob.

Their eyes briefly locked, and Colin couldn't help but notice how close they were, made even more apparent by the way Penelope's breath felt on his arm. Then he opened the door and straightened up, urging his body not to do something ridiculous.

He gestured for her to proceed, and she complied, their footsteps echoing in the empty hallway as they silently made their way towards the drawing room.

On any normal day, Penelope would find his excessive protectiveness ridiculous, but that particular evening, she had to admit that the news about the reward for Lady Whistledown had made her anxious. And although she had managed to survive many other frightening experiences on her own, it was a comforting change to not be alone. Even if only for that one moment.

However, as they approached their destination, Penelope couldn't help but notice the eerie silence that had engulfed the house. The atmosphere had completely changed from moments ago when the lively chat of the ladies filled the air, their laughter and gossip creating a joyful ambiance at the baby shower.

She glanced at Colin and noticed his furrowed brow, an indication that he had also noticed the same thing. Disregarding his initial idea of feigning to go elsewhere, they approached the door of the drawing room, cautiously glancing inside to assess the situation.

As if playing charades once again, all the ladies stood rigidly, their attention solely focused on the person standing in front of the fireplace. However, there was no laughter or any attempts at guessing from anyone. Instead, there was only Cressida Cowper, staring around at a room that appeared to be waiting for her next words.

"I am Lady Whistledown," she said triumphantly, her voice carrying a hint of mischief, as a smirk slowly formed on her lips.

Penelope's mind raced with uncertainty as she pondered whether her senses were deceiving her, conjuring up the surreal scene unfolding before her eyes. However, when she glanced at Colin, it appeared that he was just as surprised.

"I am she," she continued, and a wave of nausea washed over Penelope, accompanied by the same breathlessness that had previously unsettled her, now returning with vengeance.

In an instant, the room transformed from a collection of statues to a flurry of movement as people surrounded the blonde, firing questions at her while she effortlessly responded with clear, concise answers. And Penelope would try to hear them if only her ears would stop ringing, if only she could breathe.

In a fleeting moment, she noticed the intense focus of every person in the room on Cressida, with the exception of Eloise, whose unwavering gaze was fixed on her. A gentle touch then grasped at her shoulder, bringing a sense of familiarity and warmth.

And it was the last thing she felt before the room went dark.

A/N:

PHEW!

Alright, about Portia. So, I really loved the small convo they had at the end of episode 4 and it seemed to me that Penelope's words had affected her, you know? Then because of Penelope's engagement on episode 5 it was kind of forgotten, but I figured that since this did not happen in this universe of mine, then I could bring that theme back (which I thought was an important one). Now, Portia isn't suddenly redeemed and loving Penelope 100% correctly, but it's the start I'm giving her, there is more to happen ahead.

About baby showers: I did a bit of research and they weren't as common in the 1800s UK apparently, but a few years after that it started happening more frequently (just to explain that part of the story).

With all of that being said, have a good day everyone and God Bless you!