The next day…

As his carriage bumped along, making its way from his bachelors' lodgings heading towards Grosvenor Square, Colin found himself again gazing out at the city streets as they trundled by. Anthony had announced an emergency family meeting, a gathering of all the Bridgertons, in order to pass on the incredibly sensitive and guarded secret that he had only told Benedict and Colin the night before;

Anthony was engaged to Miss Kate Sharma. Moreover, Anthony was in love with Miss Kate Sharma.

After Colin had danced with Penelope, after he had watched Kate and then Anthony leave the dance floor, the ball had gone on as usual. Anthony seemed to have disappeared, so Colin gave up looking for him and passed the time making conversation with various acquaintances of his and chatting with Benedict and Eloise. He even obliged his mother's insistent stares by partnering a young lady or two in some of the other dances, although he found he did rather wish he was dancing with Penelope instead; the young ladies were fine and well, but she was just much more interesting. Regardless, he observed his careful rule at these events; he always took care not to dance with any girl more than once. Doing so would likely excite comment and whispered rumours from the ton's Mamas that Colin Bridgerton was looking for a bride.

Which he wasn't, truly. Not yet.

It could not have been much more than an hour after he'd seen Anthony leave the dance floor that suddenly Anthony reappeared at his side again, dark eyes nearly black, with a face like thunder, and his eldest brother's hand reached to grip Colin's arm in a vice.

"Brother," Anthony had said shortly, not even looking at Lord Fife whom Colin had been in the middle of conversing with. "I would speak with you." And he was gone just as abruptly, stalking off, leaving Colin to smile as charmingly and apologetically as he could to Lord Fife before he followed.

He'd caught up with Anthony in a deserted antechamber off the side of the ball room, somewhat surprised to find Benedict already waiting in the room as well, appearing just as confused as Colin was. Anthony, head darting as he looked back and forth along the corridor outside, had closed and locked the door, turned to his brothers, and before they'd even opened their mouths to ask him what the devil was going on, Anthony told them to shut up and listen to him. He had begun to speak, in a low, tense voice.

He told them about his determination to find a bride this season. He told them the burden of responsibility he felt, being the eldest, the heir, the one that society expected to carry on the family legacy, the name, the heritage. He told them how he'd thought their parents' love-match marriage was a once-off, a fairy-tale, something that he could not believe could happen for other people.

Benedict had interrupted at that stage to point out that in fact, Daphne had already proven that theory wrong with her happy marriage to Duke Simon, but a murderous stare from Anthony had quickly shut him up.

Anthony, regathering himself, had then told them about Miss Edwina, about seeing her for the first time, so pretty and charming and graceful, a perfect candidate for Viscountess before she'd even been named the season's diamond. He told them about his courtship, his careful timeline, the plan that would have ended with him engaged already to Edwina… if it hadn't been for Kate.

He told them about seeing Kate riding in the park, their shaky first meeting, their animosity, their clashes, her infuriating interferences, his schemes and the battle of wits just to get past her and continue his courtship of Edwina.

He told them how furious he'd been, how he'd lain awake at nights thinking about the elder Sharma, how he was so sure that if he could just get her to agree on something…

Colin had watched the emotions play over his brother's face whenever he said Kate's name, the way his shoulders straightened, his voice raising, the intensity of his feelings visibly coming to the fore. He exchanged glances with Benedict, who clearly had noticed the same thing. Before they could voice their opinions though, Anthony beat them to it.

He'd told them how he came to realise the feelings he felt for Kate were not hatred, but the opposite. That he couldn't stop thinking about her because she was the only one that he wanted to be around. That the courtship had then become an exquisite misery for him, because matters had gone so far with Edwina and he'd realised too late that he wanted her sister instead. He told them about the Hearts and Flowers ball, dancing with Kate, and then, he talked about his plans for the Macclesfield ball, to propose to Edwina and put an end to all of it. He told them about dancing with Kate, how he'd told her of his intentions, and how she'd fled.

Following that, the most astonishing part of the conversation; he'd told them what had happened next. The garden. Kate. Colin had wanted to clear his throat and look away, uncomfortable to witness the sudden flames erupting in Anthony's eyes even as he recalled embracing Kate in the garden. Thankfully, Anthony had spared them the more lurid details, although Benedict seemed to be all for hearing about it. The summary was enough for Colin.

Then; declarations of love. Anthony had held up a silent hand to hold off Benedict and Colin's matching whoops of surprise and joy, when they heard how their brother had actually told the woman he clearly loved how he felt.

Next; discovery. Queen. Danbury.

"We are engaged," Anthony had concluded in a quiet grimness. "I have compromised the honour of the woman I love, in front of the Queen no less, and the affection and regard I bear unto her obliged me to try and make the situation respectable, by offering my hand to her. The love I feel for Miss Sharma…I could not control it, could not conquer it, and in trying to steer it, I have crashed us both into a wreckage." He broke off abruptly, breathing hard, staring at the floor.

They had tried between the two of them, Benedict and Colin, to comfort their brother. The situation fully explained, Colin could see the events of the season thus far with fresh eyes, and suddenly the truth seemed blatantly, embarrassingly obvious. Wherever intense emotion existed, it came because one cared, and Anthony's intensity about Kate made sudden perfect sense.

Anthony had shrugged off their soothing entreaties. "Lady Danbury," he said in a low voice, "has ever been a friend to our family, and she has agreed for my sake not to tell anyone, to allow us to make the announcement ourselves. She even persuaded the Queen to do the same, calling in a favour and citing the long friendship between them." He'd looked up wild-eyed at them. "I am well aware that my folly has now placed our family under her Majesty's displeasure. Whistledown will have a field day with this. The Queen's diamond rejected, in favour of her sister…"

Colin had started at the mention of Penelope, although of course his brothers did not know. Whistledown would be obliged to make comment on this, it was true. This was a veritable scandal, with a Bridgerton right at the centre of it.

"I am telling this all to you both now," Anthony had continued, "because I will need your help to tell Mother, before anything can be announced. We will have a family meeting. An emergency family meeting. Tomorrow."

And now, with his carriage making its way to Grosvenor Square, Colin checked his pocket watch. He had left his lodgings early, by all appearances seemingly to get to Bridgerton House early and avoid incurring the wrath of Anthony for being late, but really, after sitting last night and thinking over the events with Anthony and Kate, mulling over the implications and the potential fallout, he now had a different plan in mind, and it was a different address he had given his carriage driver upon their departure.

He needed to go see the one and only Lady Whistledown, at once, before the family meeting. Why, what good fortune, that she happened to live right across the Square from the Bridgerton family home.

Penelope sat on the stone loveseat in the Featheringtons' modest but pretty garden, which connected to the side garden near what she had come to think of in her mind as her 'Whistledown' gate entrance. When the weather was fair, or sometimes when she just needed to be out of the house and away from her Mama and sisters, the loveseat in the dappled shade of this garden was her favourite spot to sit and read, or think, or daydream. She had a book open in her lap, but was only half paying attention to it, consumed with thoughts of the night before.

She had been up late after they had gotten home from the ball, writing and drafting, trying to find the right message, the right tone, to report on what she knew she would need to report on, but although the main content was present, she was not yet fully satisfied with how she had written it. Attempts this morning to amend the passages were to no avail, and in her frustration, she had retired here outside to regather her thoughts and regroup before she tried again.

She stared down at the book open in front of her, the lines blurring together as her gaze unfocused and her mind drifted, and thus she nearly jumped out of her skin when a shadow fell across her page. Her head snapped up, and she squinted her eyes slightly against the sudden glare, seeing Rae standing before her nervously, fiddling with the sage green dress of her uniform.

"Miss," Rae bobbed a polite curtsy. "Beg pardon for the interruption. Mr Colin Bridgerton is here to see you."

Taken aback, Penelope scrambled to her feet, the book dropping forgotten onto the loveseat beside her. "I…thank you, Rae, yes, please do show him through." Rae curtsied again and moved off to fetch Colin. While Penelope waited, her heart skittered, as it usually did when she knew she was about to see Colin. She smoothed down her dress – an uninspiring floral concoction today of peach and pink – and tried to resist the urge to fiddle with her hair. At balls and society events, one might prepare oneself to anticipate him, but when he was not expected…

Then suddenly he was there, striding into the garden, Rae following behind him and positioning herself at a respectful distance underneath another tree; Penelope appreciated her lady maid's decision to be carefully out of earshot but close enough to still technically count as a chaperone if anyone should happen upon them. Bless Rae, honestly.

Colin was dressed in dark breeches with a blue-grey coat, paired with a pale mint-green waistcoat and soft teal cravat. The effect, with his chestnut hair glinting in the sunlight, was disarming to say the least.

Colin reached her and performed a short bow. "Miss Featherington," he greeted her formally, a half-smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Mr Bridgerton," she returned with a soft smile and polite curtsy of her own. She glanced over at Rae, who was studiously examining the sky, no doubt intending to allow some modicum of privacy.

"It is good to see you," he began. He cleared his throat, shifting his weight a little. "How liked you the rest of the ball yesterday evening?"

"It was…interesting," Penelope said carefully, eyeing him. She couldn't imagine what had brought him here to see her, but now that he was here, she found herself longing to confide in him, if only to share a little of the burden of the secret she had overheard. "Enlightening, one might venture."

Now he was eyeing her back, and she had the distinct feeling that he was measuring her, assessing her to analyse her meaning. She noticed his demeanour was a little antsy, a touch agitated almost. "I…think I know what you mean," he said slowly, watching her closely. "I had a similar experience myself."

"Indeed?" This was interesting. But then, he could be referring to anything, and if she told him this about his own brother, and he didn't know… she had no earthly idea how he might react to the news.

They looked at each other warily, gazes locked in a battle of calculation; this was tennis, this was fencing, and the first to give ground would break the deadlock. It was Colin who capitulated; he had after all come here intending to tell Penelope, indeed he was desperate to tell her, and he was operating on something of a time limit.

"I came here," Colin said in a low voice, stepping closer and glancing furtively around, "because I need to speak with Lady Whistledown about something I learned last night."

"Oh?" Penelope breathed. She inhaled the clean masculine soap scent of him, feeling a little giddy despite herself at the proximity, and at his words. Colin as a Whistledown confidant… it defied all previous imaginings.

"Benedict and I were pulled aside late into the ball by Anthony," Colin murmured. He inhaled; there was a faint jasmine scent in the air around Penelope, no doubt from a perfume or soap that she used, and the sweet smell was a little distracting.

"There he told us that he had intended last night to propose to Miss Edwina, but instead…" His deep blue eyes met hers, searching again, for what, Penelope wasn't sure. But she did her best to remain steady, returning his gaze and silently urging him to continue, to trust her and take her into his confidence.

Whatever he had been searching for in her eyes, he appeared to have found it, as he took a deep breath and ploughed on. "Instead, he is now engaged to be married to Miss Kate Sharma."

A sudden rush of relief swept through Penelope, realising at once that this was a secret they indeed shared together, and the burden felt halved now that it was carried alongside someone else. "I know," she said quickly, and seeing his face darken with confusion, she hastened to clarify, talking in an anxious rush. "I mean, I don't know, because I did not speak to Anthony myself, but I had thought after their dance, that we had all been blind all this time, and that really it is Kate and Anthony that were in love. And I went to find you, to tell you, to warn you because of the issues it could cause your family, you see, and instead I stumbled upon Kate and Edwina, and Kate told Edwina everything." She took a breath, seeing Colin was listening hard and waiting for her to continue. "So, that is to say, when I say I know, it's because…"

"…you know," Colin finished thoughtfully, gazing at her. There was a certain compelling light in the brightness of her blue eyes when she spoke so animatedly, and it was hard to look away from. "So, you know about…the garden?" He suddenly felt a little hot with embarrassment, as this was hardly subject matter for a respectable lady.

Thankfully, he reflected, Penelope was a respectable lady, but one unlike any other of his acquaintance, and although she did blush a little, she did not back down from the topic. "I know about the garden," she confirmed. "And the Queen. And Lady Danbury. And the engagement."

"Ah." Colin exhaled, glancing over to Rae and seeing she was still out of earshot. Good. He returned his gaze to Penelope, eyes narrowing. "So have you…"

They had always had a certain easy rhythm in their conversations, and somehow Penelope knew what he was going to ask before he said it. "I have written a column, yes-"

"You would publish before the family announced it?" He sputtered, suddenly quite angry. After all, she hadn't known that he'd known about the situation, and it was his brother involved.

Penelope tried to interject, panicking at the sudden turn the conversation had taken. "No, Colin, which is why…"

"Or perhaps you were intending to publish this one without my involvement?" He interrupted her, taking a few steps away and passing his hand over his face. "Mayhap you do not like to share the Whistledown spotlight after all?"

"Colin!" Penelope exclaimed, and suddenly an anger was burning in her too, and she closed the distance between them, intending to set him straight. "Can you just listen to me for one moment, for goodness sake?"

His mouth snapped shut, and he looked at her silently, anger and even a kind of fear and insecurity shimmering in his eyes. She met his gaze, wanting and needing him to listen and believe her. "Think of what you are accusing me of. I only drafted the column, I did not say that I have finished it, or published it myself, or had any plans to do so. I am not…" she took a deep breath, "I am not writing because I want fame and attention and all the glory, whatever you may think. Although I do admit of course to priding in seeing my words being talked over by so many. As my identity is unknown by all except you, one could hardly call this a spotlight. And I don't resent you for helping me, indeed, I am very grateful for it."

Her bright blue eyes were wide and sincere, her chest heaving as she looked at him imploringly, and Colin looked away from her irritably, in truth more annoyed now at himself. He was not sure where his outburst had come from – he just knew he had jumped from point A to point Z very quickly, and perhaps a huge part of that came from how new this situation between them was, how everything felt thrown off balance. Before the library, he would never have thought of Pen as Lady Whistledown, never guessed at the secret she was keeping. And if she was capable of keeping that secret, there was a part of him that was fearful she could be keeping other things from him too. A part that worried that he really didn't know her as well as he thought he did, a part that was insecure that this admirable woman did not really need him. But he was too afraid to admit as much to her.

Seeing the warring emotions on his face, Penelope pressed on. "As it happens, I have in fact been struggling with what to write for the column. And before I had anything published, I wanted to find and speak to you about what I heard between Kate and Edwina, I swear it, Colin. Just as you came to find me to tell me about Anthony. I know the implications this has for your family. It is just a little more difficult for an unmarried lady to go traipsing around visiting gentlemen in the daytime without a chaperone," she finished, not a little testily. Gentlemen didn't realise, truly, how easy they had it sometimes.

Colin sighed, bowing his head for a moment before he looked back up to her. "My apologies, Pen," he stated simply. "I drew conclusions too quickly, doubting your intentions, which I should not have done." He smiled the gorgeous, crooked half-smile she so loved. "Please forgive me."

A pause, and then she sighed. It was difficult to stay mad at Colin. "It is forgiven," Penelope said softly, smiling reluctantly back.

There were a few beats of awkward silence between them before Colin spoke again. "I am on my way after this in fact, to an emergency Bridgerton family meeting," he advised her. "Anthony is going to tell Mother, and then we are going to discuss as a family what to do next."

Penelope nodded thoughtfully. "I can only imagine how he must be feeling," she said sympathetically. "Still, while it's an unusual beginning to a partnership, to be sure… despite that, I think them to be, somehow… a well-matched pair."

Colin grinned. "I had the same thought," he said conspiratorially, winking. "It is good to see Anthony finally meet his match. He will be wrapped around her finger."

Penelope laughed, and that familiar ease and warmth seemed settled again between them.

"You said you were struggling with what to write in the column?" Colin asked curiously.

"Yes," Penelope sighed. "Lady Whistledown will be expected to be the first to know about what's happened, so I know I must write something about it. But really, I am struggling so much with this one because this is a chance, an excellent chance, to control the narrative on the situation."

He cocked his head to the side, seeing the glint in her eyes. "What can you mean?"

"This will be a scandal, there is no avoiding it," Penelope told him grimly. "But how I write about it may help determine how big of a scandal it will be. If what the Bridgerton and Sharma families are saying, more or less lines up with what Lady Whistledown says…it would veritably halve the speculation and limit any damage to the families." She tapped a finger against her lip, thinking out loud. "What I've written so far is essentially a factual account of what I know, it was just the right tone that I was struggling with. But if it can line up with what your family meeting ends up deciding about what you will tell the ton… it could really help Anthony and Kate's situation." She lowered her eyes modestly. "Most people tend to believe Whistledown's version of events, after all."

Colin nodded, thinking hard. What Penelope said made sense, and he knew she was right – this might be the best way forward. An idea struck him. "It will be hard for me to come back here and fully convey to you what's been decided after the family meeting is over," he said slowly. "What if…" he hesitated, unsure of her reaction.

"Yes, Colin?" She prompted him, smiling encouragingly.

"…what if I helped you write it?" She stared at him, seemingly dumbstruck, and he hurried on. "You said the essentials are all there, yes? So, it will just need to be changed slightly to hit the necessary tone, so that it's similar in message to what the two families decide to tell everyone. If you can get the draft to me -" his eyes moved in the direction of the side garden around the corner from them, where their previously agreed Cupid statuette drop-point sat, "- or if you can drop it off, so to speak, I can retrieve it after the meeting, make the amendments and have it to the print shop tonight."

Penelope was stunned. "But Colin," she burst out, then bit her lip, hesitant with how to voice her next thought without sounding rude.

Watching her, he stared absently at the place where the soft pink of her bottom lip met her small white teeth, then shook himself, and read the hesitancy on her face. He thought he knew what she was about to say.

"You are going to ask how I could possibly write or edit the column," he supplied helpfully, and quirked an eyebrow at her when she blushed.

"Well…not in those…well, yes," she admitted. "It is a great idea and kind to offer, Colin, but…forgive me but, what experience do you have with writing?"

Colin exhaled, a hand coming up to rub absently at the back of his neck. He had hinted about this before to her, in the library, and now was not the time to be shy about this. They had shared so much already between the two of them, and he trusted her to take him seriously, even if no one else would.

"I have mentioned to you before," he began, "about my diary-keeping during my travels. I cannot in good conscience compare them or my abilities to yours," he nodded to her respectfully, "but I was writing nearly every day during my time away. I am comfortable with the pen, and comfortable with turns of phrase, even if I am not, ah, an established writer like you."

She was listening to him and not outright laughing at him yet, so he felt empowered to continue. "I have also read every one of your columns, either via Eloise reading each one obsessively aloud to us last year, or well, when I ventured to purchase one myself." He smiled a little bashfully, again looking at her with nothing but honesty and respect in his eyes. "I cannot claim to be able to imitate your abilities perfectly, but I'm confident I know enough to do my best to emulate it, even if it can only be a shadow of the real thing, having read much already of your well-crafted words."

Penelope flushed, smiling with pleasure under the praise. "Thank you, Colin," she said sincerely, touched by his words and the gesture. She thought for a moment, considering what he was proposing. She wished she could see a sample of his writing, but with the logistics involved… it would be too difficult to achieve it. And the sooner this was published, to get ahead of the society gossip, the better.

"It will be very hard for me to allow publication without reading the final product," she admitted, wringing her hands. "It's my baby, you see. I created it, I have kept it going… it is hard to imagine entrusting any part of it to another."

He nodded seriously, reaching out to take her warm hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly and noticing how small her hand felt beneath his own. "I promise," he vowed, "to do you and your writing justice, even if I have to stay up all night to get it right." He saw the anxiety written on her face and resisted a sudden urge to smooth the concerned frown away from her brow. "Do you trust me, Pen?"

The question hung in the air between them, and she felt the importance of what her response must be, the weight of vulnerability in his question. His unfairly stunning ocean blue eyes were shining with sincerity, and she had no doubt that he truly meant what he said, incredible as it may seem. She took a deep breath. Self-sufficient for years, when had she ever had someone in her life that she could rely on, depend on like this? Never.

"I trust you, Colin."

He beamed his wide, brilliant smile, and she was suddenly very keenly aware of the thrilling touch of his warm hand covering hers. His hands had always seemed so large compared to hers, and looking now where their hands were joined, her hands and fingers seemed positively delicate and tiny when pressed into his…her head swum giddily.

A slight cough nearby brought her abruptly back to reality, and both their heads snapped around to where the sound had come from, where Rae was standing, determinedly staring up at the sky with her eyebrows pointedly raised.

Oops.

Without even gloves on? Mama would be scandalised.

They both dropped their hands as though burned, Penelope blushing and Colin clearing his throat a little awkwardly. "Cupid drop off?" he confirmed quietly, his eyes glinting and a hint of a smile playing around his lips.

Penelope took a steadying breath, nodding politely to him and allowing herself only a hint of the returning warm smile that she longed to unleash. "Cupid drop off," she murmured back, and with that he straightened and bowed his head formally to her.

"Miss Featherington."

"Mr Bridgerton."

Before Colin departed, he pinned her with a truly knee-weakening smirk and lowered his voice, his farewell murmur faint enough to ensure once and for all that Rae wouldn't hear, and it sent a chill down Penelope's spine.

"Lady Whistledown."