The grand facade of Bridgerton House stood unwavering against the afternoon sun, its polished windows reflecting the golden light as Anthony stepped across the threshold. The familiar scent of beeswax and fresh flowers filled the foyer, but before he could even remove his gloves, a blur of lavender silk and soft laughter descended upon him.

"Anthony, my dear boy!"

Violet Bridgerton enveloped her son in a warm embrace, her hands pressing against his broad shoulders as though to assure herself that he was truly home, in one piece. There was a maternal fervor in her hold, as there always was, and though Anthony would never admit it aloud, there was something deeply comforting in the way his mother welcomed him home.

"You must forgive my enthusiasm." Violet said as she pulled back, studying his face with a keen, searching gaze. "But I have spent the past week imagining all sorts of mishaps befalling you in Cornwall."

Anthony huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "You wound me, mother. Do you think me incapable of handling myself in the countryside?"

Violet arched a brow, the corners of her lips twitching with amusement. "It is not you I feared for, my dear. It is Penelope. I know how dreadfully stubborn you can be."

At that, Anthony's lips curled into a grin, reminiscent of a schoolboy who had just received a well-earned commendation. "Then you shall be pleased to hear that your intervention was invaluable."

Violet's brows lifted in intrigue. "Oh?"

"Penelope received your letter, just as I asked you to send." Anthony confirmed, removing his gloves and handing them off to a waiting footman. "And I am pleased to inform you that she has returned to London. In fact, I have only just come from across the street, where I personally escorted her home and secured Lady Featherington's permission for our courtship."

Violet gasped, her hands coming together in a delicate clap, her delight evident in the sparkle of her eyes. "Oh, Anthony! This is most wonderful news."

"It is indeed."

"And when may we expect to see dear Penelope?"

Anthony smoothed a hand down his waistcoat, considering. "I intend to call on her tomorrow and formally extend an invitation for tea here at Bridgerton House." He then smirked, adding. "I shall also arrange promenades for the entirety of our courtship, so as to ensure the ton is thoroughly convinced of my unwavering intentions."

Violet sighed dreamily, placing a hand over her heart. "Oh, how splendid! Your siblings will be overjoyed to learn that Penelope is to become their sister officially."

Anthony's smile wavered for the briefest of moments. The mention of his siblings brought forth the very matter he needed to attend to. He squared his shoulders, his expression shifting into one of quiet resolve.

"Speaking of which." He began. "Where is Eloise?"

Violet blinked, tilting her head in curiosity. "Eloise? I believe she is in the morning room, writing letters."

Anthony turned to the nearest footman. "Send for my sister at once. Have her meet me in my study."

At once, the footman gave a crisp bow and departed.

Violet, ever perceptive, narrowed her gaze slightly. "Anthony, is something amiss?"

He hesitated for only a fraction of a second before offering her a reassuring smile. "Perfectly well, mother." He assured her, though his jaw had tightened slightly. "I merely wish to speak with Eloise before I make the formal announcement to the family." He continued smoothly. "Penelope has been her closest friend for years. It is only right that I explain to her how things shall change once I marry."

He could not bring himself to tell his mother the true purpose of the meeting – to address Eloise's dangerous meddling in the Whistledown affairs, which had nearly brought the Queen's wrath upon their family. Such matters were best handled privately, between siblings.

"Of course." Violet nodded, seemingly satisfied with his explanation. "You must have much to discuss. Shall I have tea sent up?"

"That won't be necessary, mother." Anthony replied, already turning toward his study, his shoulders squared as if preparing for battle. The weight of being both brother and head of the family settled heavily upon him as he climbed the stairs, leaving his mother's warm welcome behind for the more difficult task ahead.

Eloise entered her brother's study with an air of indifference, though the sharpness in her eyes betrayed her casual stance. She crossed her arms over her chest and arched a brow.

"Well?" She asked impatiently. "What pressing matter could possibly require my immediate attention, dearest brother."

Anthony, standing by the sideboard, turned slowly to face her. His gaze, steady and unyielding, bore into her with a quiet authority that instantly set her on edge. He let out a measured sigh before gesturing toward the chair opposite his desk.

"Sit."

Eloise scoffed but, after a beat of hesitation, did as he instructed. She perched herself on the chair with an exaggerated sigh, her posture slouched in defiance.

Anthony turned back to the crystal decanter, pouring two generous measures of brandy. He carried one glass to her, extending it with an air of finality.

Eloise eyed the drink with suspicion. "You summoned me here to drink?"

"No." Anthony replied. "I summoned you here because we are about to have a very serious conversation. And believe me, you shall need it."

Still wary, Eloise took the glass and sniffed at its contents before throwing her brother a look of begrudging amusement. "You do realize that offering one's sister a drink is highly unorthodox, do you not?"

Anthony merely raised his own glass to his lips and took a slow sip. "Drink, Eloise."

She sighed, rolling her eyes, but took a sip nonetheless.

The moment she gulped the alcohol down her throat, Anthony set his glass aside and leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on the mahogany desk between them. Then, with all the gravity of a statesman announcing a royal decree, he said. "I am going to marry Penelope Featherington."

The words had barely left his mouth before Eloise slammed her glass onto the desk with such force that Anthony half-expected the crystal to shatter. Her eyes, wide with disbelief, burned into his.

"Why?" She demanded, her voice sharp, incredulous.

Anthony's lips curved into a smirk – one that only further provoked his sister's ire. "Because I wish to." He stated simply. "And because there is not a soul in England, not even you, who could prevent it."

Eloise's breath came sharply through her nose. "You cannot be serious."

"Oh, but I am."

"Youcannotmarry her."

Anthony merely leaned back in his chair, studying her with a knowing expression. "And why is that, dear sister?"

Eloise stiffened. She knew that stubbornness was a Bridgerton trait, but her brother had taken it to another level entirely. She knew he would not be easily dissuaded, but the thought of him marryingPenelope– a woman who had so thoroughly betrayed her – was something she could not abide.

Anthony, sensing her hesitation, pressed further. "Penelope is intelligent, refined, and well-mannered. She will make an exemplary Viscountess. She possesses all the qualities that one would expect from a woman in her position."

Eloise ground her teeth, knowing she could not refute his words, no matter how much she wished to.

When she failed to immediately respond, Anthony tilted his head, his gaze shrewd. "Tell me, Eloise, what truly troubles you?"

Something inside her snapped. She shot her feet so quickly that her chair nearly toppled over.

"She isLady Whistledown!"She blurted out, her voice filled with accusation.

Anthony, to her utter astonishment, merely hummed in acknowledgment, his expression entirely unbothered. He swirled the brandy in his glass before looking up at her.

"I know."

Eloise's mouth fell open. "You –what?"

Anthony took a slow sip of his drink before setting it down. "I know." He repeated, his voice as calm as ever. "And that does not change my decision."

Eloise could hardly believe her ears. "You mean to tell me that you are fully aware of what she has done? That you know she has spent years exposing the ton's secrets? That she nearly ruined our familymore than once? And yet, youstillwish to marry her?"

Anthony's expression darkened. "Yes. And I also know whatyouhave done."

Eloise's breath caught in her throat.

"I know." Anthony continued, his voice dropping into something dangerously close to a warning. "That you spent the better part of last season playing detective, meddling in matters far beyond your understanding." He leaned forward. "I know that you drew the Queen's ire upon yourself with your foolish obsession. And I know that you, in your infinite wisdom,ransackedPenelope's chambers and confronted her like a common footpad, which led to the very state of estrangement that you now so bitterly lament."

Eloise stood frozen in place, her face ashen. "How..." She swallowed. "How do you know all of this?"

Anthony smirked. "You are not as discreet as you believe yourself to be."

Eloise clenched her fists. "You expect me to simplyacceptthis? To stand idly by while you parade her around as your soon-to-be wife?"

Anthony's gaze hardened. "I expect you to be civil."

Eloise let out a bitter laugh. "Civil?"

"Yes."

He leaned back once more, his expression impassive. "I know that neither you nor Penelope have any desire to mend what was broken between you. And I will not force the issue. But Iwillinsist upon civility. Penelope had already stated she does not wish to engage with you in any way. I will let our mother handle your social seasons. You will not cause discord within my household, Eloise."

Eloise's lips parted in disbelief. She could not believe the words of his brother. To think that Penelope –her Penelope– would not want to associate with her, makes her feel hurt and disappointed. "And if I refuse?"

Anthony's voice turned cold. "Then you may remove yourself from my house."

Eloise recoiled as though she had been struck. "You cannot be serious."

"I am entirely serious." His tone left no room for argument. "You may spend the remainder of the season in Bath with Aunt Winnie, or you may impose upon Daphne's hospitality. Or, if you find that neither option is to your liking, you may marry and remove yourself from my jurisdiction entirely."

Eloise stared at him, her breath coming in shallow bursts. She had always known her brother to be formidable, but never had she seen him like this – unyielding, unshaken and resolute in his authority.

With nothing left to say, she turned sharply on her heel and stormed out of the study, slamming the door behind her with enough force to rattle the bookshelves.

Anthony remained seated, lifting his glass to his lips as the last rays of sunlight faded from the window. The brandy tasted bitter now, but he had done what was necessary to protect both his future wife and his family's reputation.