The evening air hung heavy with the sweetness of night-blooming jasmine as Anthony Bridgerton moved through the halls with the practiced stealth of a man who had spent his youth sneaking about grand houses. The library's emptiness sent an unexpected pang of concern through his chest – Penelope could usually be found there, surrounded by books and correspondence at any hour.
His footsteps, muffled by expensive Turkish carpets, carried him through the common rooms. He took care to avoid the creaking floorboard near the drawing room that might wake Aunt Petunia or alert any of the servants to his decidedly improper evening wanderings. The kitchen, too, stood silent and dark, the hearth's dying embers casting strange shadows on the walls.
A frown tugged at his brow. Where in God's name had she gone?
And then he thought of the gardens.
His instincts proved correct.
There, on a stone bench nestled amidst the carefully cultivated flowerbeds, sat Penelope Featherington. Her golden-red curls shimmered under the starlight, a stark contrast against the pale lavender shawl draped over her shoulders. She was still, contemplative, her gaze fixed upon the night blooming jasmine that swayed gently in the evening breeze.
Anthony exhaled, his relief manifesting as a quiet sigh before he made his presence known with a soft cough.
Penelope turned her head slightly, her sharp blue eyes flicking toward him before she exhaled soundlessly. "My lord." She greeted, her voice devoid of warmth but nor entirely void of civility.
Anthony took that as an invitation – however reluctant – and stepped closer. "May I join you?"
She did not look at him, her gaze resolutely fixed on the flowers before her. "As you wish."
For a moment, silence reigned between them, thick and heavy with unspoken words. The cicadas chirped, the leaves rustled, and still, Penelope said nothing.
Anthony, never one to be deterred by a lady's silence, was the first to break it. "You have been rather elusive today."
Penelope scoffed softly, finally sparing him a glance. "And you have been rather persistent."
His lips quirked. "I merely sought your company."
She hummed in obvious disbelief. "Is that so? I was under the impression you had other methods of persuasion."
Anthony tilted his head, feigning innocence. "I do not follow, Miss Featherington."
This time, she fully turned to him, one auburn brow arching in disbelief. She did not have to say it, for her expression spoke volumes.
Still, she did.
"Your mother." She stated simply.
Anthony's mouth twitched – whether in surprise or amusement, even he was uncertain – but before he could respond, Penelope had already turned back to her flowers, the discussion seemingly of no consequence to her.
His surprise quickly gave way to a slow, knowing smile. "Ah." He drawled, crossing his arms over his chest. "So my plan did work, after all."
At that, Penelope let out a sharp, exasperated breath and shot him a look that could have felled a lesser man. "I cannot believe you would stoop so low as to use your ownmotheragainst me."
Anthony had the decency to look mildly chastened, though he did not retract his words. "I did what I had to."
Penelope let out a humorless chuckle, shaking her head in disbelief. "Of course you did."
His expression sobered as he regarded her profile, illuminated by the soft glow of the moon. He had anticipated her irritation, but there was something else beneath it – something far more potent.
Hurt.
A pang of guilt twisted in his chest, but he steeled himself against it. "You left me no choice, Penelope." His voice was quieter now, more measured. "You would have me return to London alone, knowing the consequences we both must bear."
She did not respond.
So he pressed on. "Do you not recall our audience with the Queen?"
At that, her body stiffened almost imperceptibly.
Anthony leaned forward, his gaze unwavering. "I know that you no longer care for whatever fate befalls you." He said, voice laced with something dangerously close to desperation. "But Ido.I cannot –will not– risk my family's name, my sisters' futures, mymother'speace of mind. You may not wish to protect yourself, but I have a duty to protect my family."
Another beat of silence.
Then, softly – so softly he almost missed it – Penelope hummed.
It was not a sound of agreement nor defiance. Merely acknowledgement. But it was enough to make Anthony believe, for the first time, that perhaps the tides had begun to shift.
The silence stretched between them, thick and impenetrable as the night air. The moon cast a silver glow upon Penelope's face, illuminating the sharp angles of her cheekbones and the soft curve of her lips. She was unreadable, her expression composed, but Anthony had learned to decipher the smallest shifts in her demeanor.
With a heavy sigh, he ran a hand through his dark curls and spoke, his voice gentler this time. "I must apologize." Anthony said softly, his voice carrying genuine remorse. "Using my mother's affection to sway you was… ungentlemanly."
Penelope did not respond at once, but the tension in her shoulders eased, if only a fraction. Taking that as encouragement, Anthony pressed forward. He turned slightly on the stone bench to better face her. "Will you not consider returning to London with me?" He said, his tone much more softer, almost imploring.
She turned away, but he was undeterred.
"I promise you.." He continued. "Our courtship shall be free of scandal. No rumors, no whispered speculations. We shall do this properly." His voice grew firmer with conviction. "And I vow to be a good husband to you, Penelope. Adevotedone."
Still, she said nothing, though he could see the minute shift in her breathing.
"If love is beyond our reach.." He added. "Then I can offer you, at the very least, friendship – one built on respect and unwavering support."
That was when he made his final gambit.
"I would even aid you in your Whistledown affairs."
That caught her attention.
Penelope turned to face him fully now, her sharp blue eyes narrowing as she studied him. The mention ofWhistledownwas no small thing, and Anthony knew it. Her lips parted as though she wished to speak, but she exhaled instead, pressing them into a firm line before finally breaking her silence.
"Do you know what holds me back, my lord?" She asked at last.
Anthony remained silent, allowing her the space to speak.
She turned her gaze downward, as if speaking the words aloud was an exertion of will. "I no longer have my friendship with Eloise." She admitted, her voice cool but laced with an unmistakable sadness. "She – she despises me now. She found out aboutWhistledownand.." Penelope trailed off, shaking her head slightly.
Anthony's jaw clenched at the mention of Eloise. His sister had always been fiercely opinionated, but he had not realized how deeply she had wounded Penelope with her rejection. He was then reminded of how Eloise almost cost ruin to the whole of their family by getting on the Queen's trails.
"And Colin." Penelope continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "Made it abundantly clear what he thinks of me."
Anthony inhaled sharply, his fists clenching at his sides. He knew of Colin's callous words – how he had once proclaimed to his friends that hewould never court Penelope Featherington.Anthony had wanted to throttle his brother for it, and now, seeing the lingering hurt in Penelope's eyes, he wished hehad.
"I am sorry." He said, his voice thick with sincerity. "For my siblings' cruelty. For their lack of understanding." He hesitated, then added. "The Bridgertons are undeserving of your protection."
Penelope scoffed. "That, at least, is true."
Anthony did not flinch at her candor. Instead, he straightened his spine and met her gaze with solemn resolve. "But I am their head, and as such, it is my responsibility to right their wrongs." His voice hardened. "Iwillsee to it that both Eloise and Colin answer for their actions. I will not allow them to treat you with anything less than the respect you deserve."
She regarded him carefully, the moonlight catching in her eyes as she weighed his words.
"And if I am to agree to this courtship." She said at last. "Then you shall have to rein in Eloise. Youknowshe will not approve."
Anthony nodded without hesitation. "Consider it done."
She arched a delicate brow. "That was rather quick."
"I would do anything for this courtship." He said simply.
He meant it.
Penelope tilted her head slightly, lips parting as though to respond – but then she stopped.
And then, Anthony saw it.
A flicker of realization in her eyes.
For the first time since his arrival in Cornwall, she hadagreedto the notion of their courtship.
The weight of her words hit him like a well-aimed punch to the gut, and his heart thundered in his chest. His expression must have betrayed his astonishment, for Penelope smirked.
"I see you have finally realized it." She mused, amusement dancing in her tone.
Anthony opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.
Penelope exhaled once more, shaking her head with an air of reluctant acceptance. "You should be grateful that I value your mother as much as I do, my lord." She turned her gaze skyward, as if contemplating the stars above. "For it isonlymy regard for Lady Violet and my desire to see you cease pestering Aunt Petunia that has led me to this decision."
Anthony finally found his voice, albeit a dazed one. "Truly?"
Penelope gave him a look, one brow arching. "Do not make me reconsider, my lord."
He straightened at one, nodding vigorously, much like a devoted pup before its master.
"We have much to discuss before returning to London." Penelope continued, rising from the bench with elegant dignity. "There are terms to be negotiated, agreements to be reached."
Anthony nodded so enthusiastically that Penelope had to bite back a smile – the mighty Viscount Bridgerton, looking for all the world like a faithful eager servant awaiting instruction.
"Good night, my lord." She said, allowing herself a small, smugly satisfied smile as she turned toward the house. Her skirts whispered against the gravel path as she left him sitting alone in the moonlit garden, looking both thunderstruck and triumphant.
The night air carried the faint sound of Anthony's quietly jubilant laugh as Penelope disappeared into the shadows of the estate, both of them knowing that while this may not be a love match, it promised to be something equally intriguing.