Anthony Bridgerton was lost.
Or at least, that's how he felt. His life, ever since he was nineteen, was lived for other people. For that of his family, for that of his future.
Though he had practically trained his whole life to become viscount under the guidance of his father, losing that branch of education at nineteen, and being thrust into a position he was not prepared for shocked him. His whole life had been turned upside down, and the once rather charismatic, witty Anthony had to be placed on a shelf in the deep recesses of his mind.
His life mattered not, not when the lives of those he was in control of were in the forefront of his mind at every waking moment.
However, his thoughts towards his own life, his own happiness had changed when he met Siena. The incomparable opera singer who had a mischievous gleam in her gaze, that from the moment Anthony laid his eyes upon her, he knew he was in trouble.
Love and lust were two things Anthony Bridgerton prided himself on knowing rather well, and with Siena he had both. She was passionate and vivacious. He was an unsuspecting moth to her flame. He could not help but love her, despite how improbable such a match would be.
Did she deserve a man whom would be loyal to exclusively her? Without question. Was Anthony selfish enough in wanting his own happiness to want to keep her well into any nuptials he may have agreed to? Yes.
So, when he had, perhaps naively, asked her to attend the Hastings Ball with him it was out of sheer selfishness. It was a daydream he'd allowed himself to get lost in. Despite purchasing her a rather expensive bouquet, and showing up to her door, somewhere in the dark recesses of his mind, Anthony knew she would not join him.
Her words still haunted him, as he stood in the courtyard of his sister and Simon's home. There was not enough brandy in the world to sooth the ache he felt growing within the depths of his chest.
'You need to let me go'
He took a deep swig of the brandy, not allowing himself to wince at the burn. He wanted to fight for her. To fight for his own happiness, yet he couldn't. Anthony knew she was correct.
What would either of them gain from such an entanglement? Anthony had had his head in the clouds believing she would be accepted in society; she was nothing more than a dalliance. A dalliance that had caused his heart to grow and shatter within one fell swoop.
He looked around, noting all the glances being tossed his way. The people of the Ton were incorrigible. Despite not wanting to remain present, Anthony had to show a united front for his dear sister. If the Bridgertons were anything, they were loyal.
After rather short greetings to the happy couple, and his mama, Anthony had chosen a corner in which to sulk. He just had to save face for another hour at most, and he would be gone. Escaping to Whites where he could drink and gamble away his heartbreak. Not to mention, build the walls back up around his heart that Siena had so graciously broke down.
Despite the stupor and sour mood Anthony was bound to drink himself into, a flash of Yellow snapped him out of the small reverie he had found himself in.
Out of the corner of his eye he could see Penelope Featherington. The Featherington girl was a friend of Eloise's, and a practically semi-permanent fixture in their family dynamic. The two girls having being as close as they were, Anthony saw a lot of her - though, had scarcely ever spoken more than common pleasantries with the girl. From what he had heard from her though, she seemed to have a decent head on her shoulders, along with a seemingly sound mind, and a rather sharp wit.
Due to Penelope's closeness with their family, Anthony normally did nothing more than the gentlemanly thing and offered her a dance at a social gathering. Always at his mother's express wishes of course. However, Colin was usually the one to pick up the mantle; the two of them seemingly sharing a bond that Anthony had chalked up to their closeness in age.
Until then, of course.
Colin had joined Penelope on the sidelines, speaking to her intently and whether it was his own recent heartbreak, or the brandy; Anthony seemed to pick up on something that Colin seemed rather oblivious to.
Penelope had positively lit up when Colin had walked over. Her smile had forced her round cheeks up, and her back had straightened some, as if she were preparing herself to be more confident.
She cares for him a voice whispered, and Anthony bristled at that.
The part of him that was heartbroken wanted to go over to the pair and separate them. Loving someone was no use, it would only hurt Penelope in the end, especially if he had anything to show for his own experience. However, he stayed put, watching them intently over the rim of his glass.
He told her he is leaving the voice in the back of his mind said, noting the crestfallen expression that had taken over the young Featherington girl. She looked beside herself, and Colin, the oaf of a man did not seem to notice.
Despite how horrible the predicament, Anthony let out a small, dark chuckle. At least he was not the only one feeling heartbreak.
Penelope, in all her frustration quickly walked away from Colin, right past Anthony and towards the refreshment table. Lemonade had always been her preferred choice of drink, if he remembered correctly.
Colin seemingly did not notice him standing there, for he just stared at the spot Penelope had been standing in, looking rather perplexed. Despite wanting to reach out to his brother and offer a solid pat on the back, Colin was a man grown. Penelope was still a dejected and seemingly rejected young lady, and after all - misery enjoyed company.
The viscount pushed off of the stone column he had been leaning against and slowly trailed after the petite Featherington.
"…I'm leaving first thing tomorrow morning, I'll begin my tour. I'm to start in medditerania - it was actually you who inspired me you kept reminding me how much I longed for travel…"
Colin was leaving. Colin was leaving and Penelope had been so close to admitting her love for him. She had loved him since she was 16, and her bonnet had first flown in his face. To love someone for so long, only to have them not only almost marry one's cousin, but also leave. Penelope was beside herself.
Of course Colin would not want to stay, why would he? No doubt, if she had been courageous enough to admit her true feelings, he still wouldn't have stayed. Colin did not feel for her the way she felt for him. She was Penelope Featherington, wallflower extraordinaire.
Despite her continued success with Lady Whistledown, Penelope could not take the confidence and gravitas she exudes as the notorious author and apply it to her everyday life. Especially not in regards to Colin. He had been so downtrodden with the news about Marina, to see him so utterly excited for something – well it wouldn't have been fair to let him know the truth about her feelings. It wouldn't have done him any good anyways.
Penelope took a generous sip of the lemonade in her hand, finishing it in one go. It was not ladylike, and her mother would no doubt scold her had she seen, but at that moment, Penelope did not care. All she wanted was to distract herself from the pain that was taking root in her chest.
"Miss Featherington," a familiar voice sounded from behind her. It was not Colin, that much she knew. It was however, one of the Bridgerton men. No other men spoke to her, and no doubt it was to persuade her onto the dancefloor at their mama's insistence.
Mustering up whatever was left of her propriety, Penelope turned to face the man who had spoken to her, surprise jolting through her when she noticed it was Anthony.
The eldest Bridgerton son was not as well known to her as perhaps Benedict or Colin. Anthony was always busy with the running of the household and estate, only conversing with her the odd time he joined the rest of the Bridgerton clan for tea, or whilst dancing.
"M-my lord." She replied, curtseying slightly. Her body was still stiff after being caught off guard by the Viscount. "I did not see you there, are you having a pleasant evening?" She inquired, attempting to muster up the politest smile she could. Though, the question was perhaps redundant. Taking a good look at the viscount told her that he was indeed not having a pleasant evening. He looked forlorn, with rather red puffy eyes, and a look in his gaze that spoke volumes.
He was just as heartbroken as she was.
As Whistledown, it was Penelope's prerogative to know the ongoings of many in the Ton. She knew well enough that Anthony was a rather popular man with the ladies, specifically one in particular. Could it have been something between them that could create such an obvious change to his otherwise handsome countenance?
Anthony, ever the gracious gentleman offered Pen a rather tight-lipped smile that did not quite reach his eyes. "It is well enough," he replied, hand raising slightly so that Penelope could note the glass of amber liquid. It looked rather close to what her father had in his study, and her lip twitched. It was not polite for young ladies to indulge in such vices, and having never had a drop she did not know what it tasted like, but Penelope was envious at his liquid escape.
"How is your evening, Miss Featherington? I admit I only just arrived a few moments ago but your dance card looks rather empty" He stated, motioning to the paper carefully tied about her wrist.
It was just what Penelope had been afraid of. Lady Bridgerton had set him up to task of asking her to dance, seeing as Colin had failed so miserably. "I – Yes, it is rather." She replied, pausing for a moment as she looked down at the empty paper, silently cursing it. "I am afraid I am not much in the mood for dancing tonight, despite how wonderful the event is." Penelope was careful with her words, not wanting to insult the duke and duchess – especially considering Daphne was Anthony's sister.
"That is a shame," Anthony began, taking one last swig of his brandy and placing the glass down on the other side of her with a rather final thud. "For I had planned to ask you to join me on the dancefloor." He mused, gaze finding her own rather nervous one. His deep brown eyes were practically searing into her, and it made Penelope shift a little uncomfortably.
"I am sorry to disappoint you my lord," she began, only for Anthony to raise a brow at her.
"However, I am afraid I must insist." There was not an offer in his tone, it was final. She was to dance with him no matter how much she wished to dash off into the night.
Penelope glanced around at the others in attendance. There were a few eyes on them, speculatively watching a viscount speak with someone so easily forgotten. A slight red hue made its way into her cheeks and Penelope gave him a kurt nod. She could not very well turn down a dance with a viscount, especially not one with whose family she held in such a warm regard.
Anthony offered her his arm, ever the proper gentleman, and she took it as he led them onto the dancefloor. The orchestra was priming for a waltz, whatever Anthony had up his sleeve, the dance was perfect for it.
He took her into his arms as the dance required, but the heat radiating off of him made Penelope's breath catch. She was uncomfortable, and upset, and dancing was certainly not what she was inclined to partake in.
Once the dance began, she gave it a few moments before opening her mouth. Anthony, almost reading her mind spoke first, quickly quieting her. "I am sorry for my rudeness in asking you to dance, Miss Featherington," he started, his gaze intent on her features.
It was as if he was attempting to assess her, to reach into the depths of her mind and learn about every secret that she kept close to her heart. It caused Penelope to flush and glance away from him, as if doing such a thing would help.
"I wanted to speak to you of something that I feel neither of us would enjoy the rest of the room listening in on. At least this way, our words are kept mostly secret by the volume of the music." He continued, absentmindedly squeezing her hand.
Penelope swallowed thickly as she glanced up at him through her lashes, "Whatever could warrant such privacy, my lord?" She inquired, panic starting to replace the pain that Colin had instilled within her.
Did Anthony know about her secret? Did he know she was Whistledown? Her heart began to race within the confines of her chest, anxiety running through her as she watched Anthony attempt to pick and choose his words.
"I would hardly call this private, just more hidden in plain sight," he paused briefly and inched a little closer to her, his breath hot on her cheek. "I am sure this will sound forward, and I assure you I do not mean it thus… It is just that I would like you to know that you will find someone who treasures you the way you deserve to be. My brother – "he paused again, a deep sigh coming from him.
Penelope could smell the brandy on his breath and she pursed her lips. He knew? How did he know of her feelings for Colin? Surely it was not that obvious? Dread made its way into her mind and she paled. If it was so obvious to Anthony, surely Colin could see how she looked at him, the longing stares as he danced with Cressida Cowper, or laughed at something another lovely lady said. "I-I do not know what you are assuming I feel for him, but your brother is a good friend of mine, my lord." She started, daring a glance at Anthony.
The look he returned was not one of pity, not one of frustration, but one of understanding. It told Penelope that he knew about her feelings for Colin, but that he also knew the pain that she was feeling.
"I have no doubt that he is a good friend to you Pen," The nickname that had been bestowed upon her by his other siblings tumbling from his lips sounded odd, but not entirely foreign either. "I simply doubt his intentions towards you, and as someone who cares for both of you, I am only saying this to look out for you. I would not like to see you hurt."
Her brows furrowed as she looked at him, her steps concise as she let Anthony lead them in their waltz.
"Anthony," She whispered, quickly glancing at the other couples around them. "I appreciate your attempt at protection, but you cannot stop me from being hurt just like you cannot stop the passing of time." She was a wallflower; she was bound by divine design to live a life in tandem with pain.
His brows furrowed, and for a moment in time Penelope thought he was going to become cross with her. Instead, he took her hand and led her off the dancefloor. The music had come to a close and Pen had been too distracted to notice.
"Perhaps you are right, but I thought that you should be aware that someone is in fact in your corner, Penelope Featherington." He stated, taking her hand and placing it in the crook of his arm.
"I am glad I have you Bridgertons," she mused thoughtfully, reminiscing over the love and care she received from Eloise and her mother. Not to mention Colin and Benedict, and now it seemed Anthony himself. "You are my allies in this world, and I fear with how the Ton can be I need it more than I care to admit."
"I am glad to hear it, and I hope we can continue to be that support for you, even long after you are wed." he mused, hoping that Penelope would find herself in an advantageous situation and find herself out of love with his brother and in love with someone else.
Penelope waved her hand absentmindedly at his notion. "I very much doubt I will be wed, but I endeavour to be an unrelated Aunt Penelope to all you and your siblings' children." She replied with a small chuckle. Penelope had settled within herself long ago that she would no doubt be a spinster. The beginning of the season had simply solidified such notions. She would be nothing more than an aunt, forced to live off of other peoples' charity until she finally passed away at a ripe old age. Forced to live her last year's remembering loves once lost.
Considering she was so busy with her own thoughts; Penelope completely missed the confused and slightly heated look the viscount laid upon her. His thoughts completely masked by his countenance.
"Whatever the future holds for you Penelope Featherington, I hope you find happiness in it." He stated, stopping once they made it back to the refreshment table. "For my own piece of mind however, I will say that any man would be lucky to have such an intelligent and kind woman as his wife."
Her gaze found his then, curiosity mixed with something else Penelope could not quite pin point lying behind her blue eyes. His brown eyes were looking into her again, and Penelope took a step back, finding that the heat source Anthony had provided left her cold, and shockingly wanting.
"I-I thank you, my lord." She let out, voice soft and slightly caught.
In return, the eldest Bridgerton gave her a slight nod. "I will leave you now, but please remember what I have said tonight." With a slight pause, Anthony assessed her before bowing and walking away.
Penelope stood there for a few moments, watching him as the Viscount Bridgerton disappeared into the crowd of people. What had transpired between them was odd. They had never been close, but Anthony seemed to want to take on a position of protector for her – even if it was protecting her against herself and his own blood. It had never occurred to her that such thoughts would even cross his mind in relation to her, and yet it had. They had shared a waltz, and perhaps a moment? No. She was being foolish, there was no moment, but Anthony Bridgerton had certainly surprised her.
She was so caught up in her reeling thoughts that it wasn't until everyone began seeking shelter, that she realized it was raining.
With a slight flush to her cheeks, Penelope headed towards an exit, remembering rather unfortunately late that she had a paper to publish. Damn Anthony and his need to act as her knight in shining armour.
Chapter 2
Summary:
This takes place after the Hastings Ball.
Baron Featherington is dead, and Penelope is attempting to learn how to deal with her emotions, meanwhile Anthony's saviour complex is blossoming and the man just wants to protect Penelope (what about her sisters you ask? I don't know, he's not worried about them. i wonder why)
Notes:
TW: DEATH
Death is mentioned quite a lot in this chapter, between Archibald Featheringtons passing, and the mentioning of Edmund Bridgerton. There's a lot of sadness, but a lot of tenderness too. Read at your own Disctretion.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
3 Weeks after the Hastings Ball
Penelope was seated on the settee in the Bridgerton drawing room, hands folded neatly in her lap as she listened to Eloise talk about a rather scandalous women's rally that she was thinking about attending. Penelope would not exactly call herself a radical feminist like Eloise, but she did believe that women should have more of a choice in the world. It was entirely unfair that men had been placed in charge, especially since it seemed half the time they did not know up from down. However, from what Penelope had heard whispered from Theo and some of the delivery boys whilst pretending to be Lady Whistledowns assistant – was that the rallies could get overwhelmingly passionate. So much so that it led to fights.
Eloise was many things, but she was not prepared to stand up for herself against a mob of men looking to settle their score with women – no matter who exactly that woman was.
Penelope offered her best friend a weary smile and picked up her cup of tea, taking a deep sip from it. Despite how much Eloise could go on, Penelope enjoyed her company. The young woman was a breath of fresh air, and after the Hastings Ball, and the discovery of her father's death had occurred, Penelope had turned to Eloise and found nothing but true friendship.
Eloise had taken her in her arms and held her, reassured her all would be well, and aided her through the initial first few days of attempting to figure out her life without her father. Though a quiet man, Archibald Featherington had had a kind heart. Penelope, being the babe of the family and perhaps always on the pudgier side, had been his favourite. Though he was not obvious about it, Penelope knew.
Losing her only true ally at home had been a rude awakening, and so she had begun to seek even more solace at the home of the Bridgertons.
"Pen, are you listening to me?" Eloise asked, breaking Penelope out of the thoughts she'd allowed herself to be consumed by.
A slight flush made its way into her cheeks and Penelope bashfully shook her head, "I apologize Eloise – I fear I got carried away with my thoughts." It was something she had always been notorious for, but it had certainly become worse since the ball.
Despite the horrible and life altering news that she had received that night; Penelope's mind had drifted (when not in a melancholy state) to the events that had transpired. The reminder of them causing her heart to beat haphazardly in her chest.
The news of Colins departure had hit her hard. It had placed her life on its axis and spun it around as to make her question things. She had almost admitted her true feelings for a man who gave her so little regard that he left after her father died. Not of course, that Pen had expected Colin to postpone his trip, but it stung all the same.
Then of course, there was Anthony.
Anthony, the man who was stoic and harsh at times. Anthony who was also kind, and chivalrous.
Though Penelope had been friends with Eloise for many years, the viscount and Penelope barely spoke. They shared pleasantries, and he weighed in on some of her conversations with Eloise, but they were not friends. Not like she was with Ben or Colin. Yet, his actions the night of the Hastings Ball had made her wonder if he thought otherwise. He had swooped in like a bird protecting its young. Coming to her aid when she needed it most without her so much as saying a word.
Though he had been hurting, he had focused on her. Her needs, and her heartache. It was odd. Kind, but odd. It consumed her thoughts when she was not thinking about her father, or how annoying her sisters were.
Eloise had been speaking to her again, but paused and looked towards the drawing room door. Penelope turned then, curious as to who had joined them. Speak of the devil and there he shall be. Anthony strolled in, looking rather determinedly at Eloise.
What is wrong with you, you ninny? Her brain chastised, her subconscious judging the acceleration of her heart before even Penelope was aware of it.
"Brother, how lovely of you to join us." Eloise spoke, sarcasm dripping from her every word as she lolled back into the settee she was seated on, effectively leaving no room for Anthony to take a seat.
"Thank you, sister, I am glad you think so." He mused, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. The glimmer quickly vanished however when he turned his attention to Penelope, and she could feel her breathing hitch. "Miss Featherington, Penelope that is – I am glad you have joined my dear sister." He stated.
Anthony, despite his better efforts, had been treating her as if she were a porcelain doll ever since he found out about her father's death. There was a sadness in his gaze whenever he looked at her that she could not help but feel deep within her soul. No doubt the untimely death of her father had reminded him of the unfortunate death of his own father.
"I am as well, My Lord. Eloise as you know provides great distraction, she is a true friend." She mused thoughtfully, offering him a small smile that did not rise to her gaze. His brows furrowed momentarily, and Penelope wondered if it was due to the fact that she had not used his name. She was not used to that with Anthony, who was always surefooted and proper.
Eloise bristled at the compliment, sitting up a little straighter. "You see brother, Pen enjoys my – what did you call it? Constant droning on?" She retorted, looking at Anthony as if she were a cat who had got the cream.
This was what Penelope had longed for. A welcome distraction that did not make her dwell. At home, all that was spoken about was frivolities and the missing male presence in the home. There was a palpable hole in the Featherington home, and Penelope couldn't take it. With the Bridgertons, she at least was given a chance at a distraction, a respite as it were, from the depressing confines of her mind. With Eloise, she did not have to dwell on what the new Lord Featherington was going to do with them. Nor did she have to think about the fact that her mother no doubt would try and hoist her into a less than favourable match.
"Penelope, you have the patience of a saint and I am truly grateful to you for putting up with my mop of a sister." Anthony said, gaze focused on Eloise.
She was broken out of her reverie once more when she heard Anthony speak, a small smirk splaying on her features.
"I would not say I have the patience of a saint, but I do thank you for allowing me to visit with her so very often." She mused, offering a glance at her best friend. "Your home has become quite the solace for me." She hadn't expected the words to escape her, but there they were, plain as day. Though the house could be chaotic at times what with Gregory and Hyacinth running after one another, Penelope found being with the Bridgertons calming. Almost as if she was one herself.
"Pen- "Eloise started, only to be cut off by Anthony.
"I am glad you find our home so comforting." He said softly, jaw tight as he looked at her. His dark gaze was boring into her once again, just as it had the night at the Hastings Ball. There was sadness behind his eyes, and Penelope knew it all too well. It was the sadness that was tangible, it was the sadness she had been feeling for weeks. "I know mother considers you practically one of us, so it is happy news that you feel so at ease here. We would expect nothing less – right sister?"
Penelope's fingers bunched up the fabric of her black mourning dress, attempting to distract herself so that the tears that were beginning to well in her eyes would not fall. She did not want Anthony to see her cry, Eloise had, but for some reason being so vulnerable with Anthony was a hard truth to swallow.
Perhaps noting her discomfort, Eloise and moved to sit beside Penelope on the settee, "It is true, Mama made a comment at dinner the other night about how you are like another daughter to her. Which is all well for me, as I do not need her attention on me any more than it already is." A chuckle escaped her friend, and in turn caused Penelope to chuckle slightly as well.
"Speaking of mama, she asked me to come fetch you. She has a question for you that will not wait," He mused evenly, placing his hands behind his back. Penelope looked at Eloise then, who's brows furrowed in much the same way as Anthony's had done earlier.
"Whatever mama needs, surely it may wait until Penelope returns home," There was a defensiveness to El's tone that made Pen shift slightly. Violet rarely pulled the two of them apart, instead imparting whatever questions or wisdom she had with Penelope present, so the fact that Violet had summoned Eloise separately was out of character.
"I am afraid it will not, she was rather insistent when she asked, she is in her room should you wish to so kindly grace her with your presence." The tone that he took on was not that which he had used moments prior, but one he used only when he was being firm. When he chose to use his title to his advantage.
With a huff, Eloise stood and Penelope pursed her lips. Though they were the same age, her darling friend had a penchant for acting rather childish when told to do something she did not want to. "If I go to her brother, and find out that it was not pressing at all, I will get back at you – you have my word."
A smirk splayed on Anthony's full lips, and Penelope felt something deep within her flip. "I-I will be here Eloise, do not keep your mother waiting." She urged, attempting to act as a mediator for the two Bridgertons.
Casting her one last glance, Eloise left the two of them with a great huff, unceremoniously closing the door a little too harshly.
"By Jove, I don't know what I'm to do with that one." The Viscount stated, shaking his head slightly before turning his attention to Penelope.
She shifted again where she was seated, sitting up slightly straighter as his full attention was on her now. Were it anyone else, and anywhere else, the very thought of being alone with an unmarried man would set her skin ablaze.
"Hope and pray, I would reckon. She is rather set in her ways at times, much like some other people I know." Pen let out, pursing her lips as she realized how her words sounded.
Brown eyes settled on hers for a moment, a glimmer of mischief flashing in them before he shook his head. "I think praying is quite frankly all I have left in regards to Eloise. Praying for patience that is." As he spoke, Anthony moved to sit beside her, taking the spot his sister had occupied only moments prior. He was much larger than Eloise, and the settee had only so much room. His knee brushed hers and Penelope clasped her hands together, attempting to remain the picture of composure.
"In truth, I may well have Eloise planning a prank on me as we speak," he began, his voice soft. "I may have told a falsehood in order to speak with you privately… You see I have been meaning to speak to you since the Hastings Ball."
The air was suddenly thick with something Penelope could not quite put her finger on and she tilted her head slightly as she took in his countenance. He looked uncomfortable, and though she prided herself on being able to read a room, Penelope could not quite find the source of Anthony's discomfort.
"Anthony, if this is about Colin or what you said – "she began, only to see him shaking his head.
"No, indeed it is not. In fact, it is about your father." His words caused her breathing to hitch and she squeezed her hands more, knuckles turning white at the firmness.
Anthony's head dipped, it seeming to her that he was attempting to find the correct words. It was a delicate matter, death. The both of them having been through the loss of a father, Penelope was sure that such sentiments were not easy for him. Eloise had often expressed sadness and grief at the loss of the patriarch of the Bridgerton family, Pen was no stranger to that. She was though, a stranger to seeing Anthony somewhat vulnerable; though the glimpse she had at the Hastings Ball appeared to mirror some of his actions now.
"What about him?" She asked, voice barely above a whisper.
He glanced at her then, brown eyes finding blue ones. He was still looking for the words, she could see it in his gaze. "I know how difficult it is to walk through this world without a father… Though our circumstances differ some, what with me being a man and the first born – I know what it is you are feeling. I was the same age you are now when I lost my father." He paused then, a darkness overcoming his countenance.
"You feel as though you have lost a part of yourself, and while I perhaps believe it to be true, it does not make the situation any easier." Penelope could feel the familiar ache beginning to bubble in her chest, and she bit down on her bottom lip. She would not cry.
"I just wanted to say… That I am wholeheartedly sorry." Surprisingly, he took her hands within his. His hands practically dwarfing hers due to the size difference. "I know we have never been close, but when I heard, my heart ached for you and your family. I would like you to know that if there is ever anything that I may do, I will do it. All you need do is ask."
Penelope was overcome.
Anthony was a good man, she had known that, but she had not expected such a reaction from him. Despite her best efforts, the tears she had been staving off betrayed her, and she felt the hot sting of them as they began to fall down her cheeks. "Blast it." She cursed, breaking her hands free of the confines of Anthony's to wipe at her face. Perhaps naively, Pen had thought she would be able to steel her emotions until she was in the safety of her own bedchamber at night. However, the words that Anthony spoke hit her somewhere deep within her that she had not known existed.
"Pen," He let out, her name a breath as he wrapped his arms around her, and brought her to his chest.
Stupidly, Penelope allowed herself to cry into the fabric of his elegantly tied cravat. Sobs wracked her, and she clung onto his waistcoat as if she were adrift at sea and the fabric were a piece of wood.
"It is alright to cry; I am sure you miss your father deeply – just as I miss mine." His voice reverberated in his chest, and Penelope sniffled. "I have no doubt he is watching over you, proud of the woman you are becoming." It was then that Penelope decided that Violet Bridgerton had raised good and honest men. She knew as much before, but such notions were certainly solidified.
Taking a deep breath, Penelope pulled away from the warmth and safety she felt in Anthony's chest and took a deep breath, hand moving to her stomach to attempt to gain her breath. Damn corsets, and damn emotions.
"I am sorry My Lord, I should not have done that." She apologized, attempting to get up.
"Pen, you do not need to apologize." He stated, catching her wrist in his hand, forcing her to stay put. Suddenly, he was holding out a handkerchief towards her. "If we are to be friends, you must stop apologizing so much. You've no need. If anyone should be expressing any sort of apology, it should be myself. I was the one to make you cry."
She reached out to take the soft muslin from him, and dabbed at her cheeks and eyes, embarrassment allowing a chortle to sound from her. It sounded thick thanks to the emotion in her, but when she looked back at Anthony, there was nothing but warmth and kindness in his visage.
"I should be thanking you," Pen began, offering him a small smile. "Your words mean a great deal to me, and though I appreciate your protection and kindness, it is not necessary." She paused again, finding a sort of peace in the fact that her composure was beginning to ebb back. "I will however, accept your friendship."
Anthony smiled at that and shook his head, "If you are to accept my friendship Penelope, you must call me Anthony and accept my protection. I will not have you without a male constant in your life – even if I may not be your preferred Bridgerton."
She paused at that; head cocked to the side slightly. Had he meant Eloise? Or had he meant Colin? Whatever the case, Pen shook her head. "If Eloise is not careful, she may be moved down a slot." She offered, attempting to push the fact that she'd just been weeping in his arms out of both of their minds.
As if he sensed her wishes, Anthony nodded and patted the back of her hand. "I do hope to endeavour to do that. Eloise indeed does need to be knocked down a peg or two."
As if on queue, the door to the drawing room opened and Eloise stepped through, looking both vexed and entertained. "Brother, I do hope you are ready for the payback of a lifetime. We leave for Aubrey Hall in less than a fortnight, and I assure you I will beat you at Pall Mall as payback."
Anthony let out a laugh that surprised both Eloise and Penelope enough that they shared a confused glance, neither of them expecting such a reaction.
"Little sister, if you think yourself that skilled, I cannot wait to watch you grovel when I beat you." He stated, getting up and patting her on the shoulder. Effectively telling Eloise that though she was determined, she was nowhere as skilled as he.
"Oh, I will, and if I do not, Pen will at least hopefully be there to cheer me on and aid me in getting you back another way."
"Pardon?" She asked, unable to stop herself. She had not even been invited to Aubrey Hall. It was the end of the season; their families would be retiring to the country but Pen had not been asked.
Nor, did she think, she would be allowed.
"Despite what my loving brother said, my mama did in fact not ask for me. However, in finding her, I did ask if you would be allowed to join us when we retire to the country. I thought what better for Penelope than to come with us? We have the library, and I will be there – which I know will be the best part." Eloise paused then, joining her on the settee. "Besides, I thought that a little break from your family might be welcomed."
Eloise knew how difficult life had become for Penelope since her father passed, her mother always seeming to have harsher words for her than her sisters. Penelope glanced at Anthony, who for some reason seemed to be as expecting of her answer as Eloise.
"I would have to ask mama, of course." She began, looking between both the Bridgerton siblings.
"I am sure your mama will accept, and when she does, we will be happy to have you accompany us." Anthony finalized, giving them both a nod and leaving the two of them alone.
"See? We all want you to join us. So please say yes Pen. Your mama will allow it, I am sure. I even promise to allow you an hour of uninterrupted reading time a day."
Penelope chuckled then, her heart swelling at the love she felt. Not only from Eloise, but the rest of the Bridgerton family. Her head dropped slightly, and her gaze fell on her hand. She still had Anthony's handkerchief clasped between her digits, and a small flush found its way into her cheeks.
"So long as you make it two hours, I will gladly accept, should my mama approve."
Eloise wrapped her in a warm hug then, and Penelope closed her eyes, embracing her friend right back.
Three Days after the Hastings Ball
"Eloise?" Violet said, the concern in her tone causing Anthony to look up from his paper. Eloise was seated further down the table, but he could see the emotion on her features. Whatever she was reaching, it was certainly not good.
He glanced over at Benedict, who despite still being half asleep and certifiably hungover from the evening prior, looked just as concerned as he did.
"Penelope's father has passed away," Eloise said, and with her words all action in the room stopping. A pin could drop and one could hear it. Anthony felt something deep in his chest clench, and he looked up, his gaze meeting his mothers. Though he had not known the Baron Featherington, Anthony had seen him at Whites, and knew that he did not have the most gallant reputation.
"Oh dear," Violet said, face pale as she looked at each one of her children.
Anthony was slightly glad Gregory and Hyacinth had been instructed to go to their lessons. He could not imagine the pair of them taking the news well, no matter how little they knew the man.
"Mama, may I go to her?" Eloise was many things, but she was first and foremost passionate and caring. She loved fiercely, and Anthony could tell that the news was upsetting her much more than she was letting on.
"Dearest, I am not sure they will be accepting visitors," his mother began, shifting slightly in her seat.
"Surely they would make an exception for Eloise," Benedict interjected, "She is practically over at the Featherington household just as much as Penelope is here." Ever the voice of reason, Anthony glanced at his brother and nodded.
"Yes, go. Let the Featheringtons know that our thoughts are with them." He stated, apparently that being the only permission Eloise needed before she pushed away from the table, and ran out the door in haste.
"Dead?" Violet let out after a few silent moments. Anthony was sure that despite the way he had died, the man's death was bringing back memories she was all too familiar with. "Perhaps I should go and speak to Portia," and as soon as she spoke, she was up and following after Eloise. The only difference between the two was the haunting grace that Violet Bridgerton had.
Anthony wiped his face over his hands as he attempted to shoo away the grief that was beginning to ebb within him. Three daughters had just lost their father, it was not the time to dwell on himself.
"Those poor women," Ben stated, reclining in his chair.
What would become of them? What was a household of women without a man to protect and care for them? Surely a near relation would soon be taking over the title, and once that was settled, who would be sure what would happen with Portia Featherington and her three girls. Though all of them had been through the season, none (save for perhaps one – though that was precarious) had secured a match. They had no father, no brother, and no protector.
"I hope that the next heir will take pity on them," Anthony let out, raising his gaze to look at his brother. His heart was hammering in his chest, and he longed for the solace of his study, but it would not do.
"Their lives will never be the same after this. One can only hope that the one that is attached gets wed before the new Baron arrives. Perhaps Finch will take pity on his new family and take them in?" Benedict was always attempting to look at the bright side of things, and Anthony was grateful that he had such a positive outlook. It was needed, severely so, as his mind was taking the exact opposite route.
"I pray you are right brother." Anthony stated, voice thick with emotion as he patted Ben on the arm. He had to help them, someway, somehow.
Notes:
I just wanted to say thank you to all of you who took the time to comment on the last chapter! I've been trying really hard to get this one out to you guys what with the demands of day-to-day life, but I'm going to respond to all the comments shortly! You all rock! If you guys have any input for this chapter (even constructive critisism) please leave it!
Thank you all for reading it means the world to me xxx
Chapter 3
Summary:
Penelope and the Bridgertons spend some time together at Aubrey Hall. There's Brigerton bickering, Penelope getting her footing, and some tension in the library.
Notes:
I'm so sorry this has taken so long to get out guys! Real life has been hectic lately, but here's the 3rd chapter! I know that i usually split the chapters up with both of their relative points of view, but I wanted to do this chapter as just Pen. Chapter 4 will be a 'retelling' of this one but from Anthony's main POV. I feel like it might be necessary ahah.
Hopefully you guys liked this one - Let me know what you think/if there is anything you'd like to see! As always, thank you for sticking with this and me, I'm hoping to get the 4th chapter out a little faster than this one.
Chapter Text
1 Week Later Aubrey Hall
"I thought we were going to play Pall Mall?" Gregory asked, as Eloise and Hyacinth went about carefully placing ten bowling pins each on the carefully manicured lawn.
Though Fall was fast approaching, it was still summer and the heat of the season was still looming over them. The group chose to take a chance in late hours of the morning to enjoy some fresh air, before the heat took over them and forced them to retreat inside.
"That was the plan, but Benedict has decided that that he must hold our fun hostage. He practically forced Anthony to postpone the game until he was present." Eloise quipped.
Beside Pen, Violet smirked and took a sip of her lemonade. The two of them were seated under a tent put up by some of the Aubrey Hall staff. There was lemonade, and a rather light spread of fruit to keep them all cool and refreshed. "He is not holding your good time hostage, Eloise. He simply asked if the game be postponed and Anthony kindly agreed." Violet stated, her words seeming to thwart whatever retort Gregory had come up with.
"It is not fair," he ground out, tossing a stick across the lawn.
"Think of it this way, Gregory" Penelope started, "It just gives you all the more time to practice so you may beat both Benedict and Anthony when the time comes." That must have been the correct response, because the look on Gregory's features shifted from dismay to elation.
"You really think so?"
There was nothing but hope in his tone, and despite how he was getting older, it reminded Pen that he was still a little boy still.
"Penelope is kind to give you some hope brother, but I can promise you that I will not go easy on you - any of you for that matter "Anthony's booming voice sounded. Penelope glanced to the direction the sound of his voice had come from only to see him making his way under the protection of the tent.
"Why would you do that brother? It is not as if you are the undefeated champion. Why on earth would you let anyone else have the fun?" sarcasm dripped from every syllable that escaped Eloise' lips.
Penelope's blue eyes watched as a sly smirk formed on Anthony's lips as he plucked a strawberry off of the elegantly put together display. "Precisely sister, why would I indeed?" He stated, taking the whole fruit (sans stem) in his mouth.
Penelope stifled a chuckle, choosing instead to squint and look upon the horizon. She would not be caught laughing if she were not looking at anyone.
"Do not worry though, Miss Featherington. I shall take the utmost care to be gentle with you, should you choose to participate in our little game." Anthony stated, causing Penelope to glance at him. There was something in the way he had said those words that caused a slight flush to appear in her cheeks.
"Do not be daft, brother. Penelope would rather enrich her mind with reading than to stoop to such barbarous lows as to play against you." Eloise shot, causing Gregory and Hyacinth to break out into a fit of giggles.
"I do not know, Eloise. Perhaps I should like to try and take Anthony by surprise. I may have only played Pall Mall once, but I am a quick study and a revered opponent." Penelope replied, rising from her seat and heading towards where Gregory stood. She could feel Anthony's gaze on her, and it caused her to bristle with something - what she could not quite name.
"Besides, someone has to help Gregory beat Anthony, since it most certainly will not be you, as we all know you enjoy nothing more than besting your brothers." Pen finished, patting the young boy on the shoulder as she looked at the remaining Bridgertons. Eloise and Hyacinth looked absolutely entertained, while Violet seemed to have an odd sense of pride about her countenance and Anthony… Well Anthony looked at her differently. It was not his normal nonchalant stare – instead, his gaze was filled with something that Penelope was not all too familiar with.
Her stomach flipped slightly and she repressed biting her lip. No, it was not to be done. Colin was the Bridgerton brother she cared for and loved; Anthony made her nervous for other more innocent reasons - surely.
Penelope let out a shaky breath, and almost as if he sensed her discomfort, Anthony clapped his hands together. "Right, are we to lawn bowl, or simply quarrel about Pall Mall?"
Beside her, Gregory shared his agreeance and made a bee line for Hyacinth who was gunning for the lawn bowling balls.
As the two youngest Bridgertons began to bicker about who got to go first, Penelope stole a glance at the young viscount, noting how he placated them quickly. Though he was not perfect, he did quite know how to keep everyone and everything in a semblance of order. He was a man after all, full grown and sure footed in who he was. As she moved to join them, Penelope saw something out of the corner of her eye and spied Violet Bridgerton studying her, a small, tentative smile splayed on her lips.
Later that evening, Penelope sat in the confines of the library, the darkness of the night hugging the large country estate like a warm embrace. Despite what little time she had spent at Aubrey Hall, Pen was beginning to think of it as a second home. Albeit a little foolish, she allowed herself the respite of thinking it as such. Her sisters were not bickering constantly, nor was she having to defend her eating habits to her mama.
It was well past midnight, but she could not sleep. Sleep was not something that had been welcoming her of late, but despite that, she was not upset. Not when the library was stocked to the brim with novels. In the darkness of the firelight, she could escape into an adventure, and release herself from the confines of her own treacherous mind. Twice she had been so caught up in her reading that she had fallen asleep, only to be woken by the sound of staff bustling about and birds chirping outside.
The library was a safe space for her, and as she curled up in a rather large chair, she felt whole. Almost as if she could get used to curling up in the chair with a good novel in front of a crackling fire. Though, such ideas were utter nonsense. Penelope would not be allowed such liberties. The only people that could were Bridgertons of course, and she most certainly was not one. She had spent many an hour day dreaming that she had chestnut hair, and had been born a Bridgerton – before she'd fallen hopelessly for Colin of course. After that, well, her daydreams changed somewhat.
A sigh emitted from the back of her throat as she closed the book in her lap with a final thud.
"Does the novel displease you?"
Penelope let out a small shriek, turning in the chair to look up and see Anthony standing in the doorway. He looked tired, but handsome. He was donned in nothing but his breeches and undershirt, both of which were loose, but somehow still clung to him in a most tantalizing way. He looked like a hero in one of the novels she so often indulged in late into the night, and a lump formed in her throat. "O-on the contrary" she breathed, moving to stand. "It is rather good, I simply seem to be restless, that is all. L-Lack of sleep will do that to you."
Why was she so breathless and flustered? 'It is just Anthony' she reminded herself. It was not as if it were Colin standing before her. Though, she was not quite sure the reaction to Colin would be much different. She noted his dark gaze as it fell to her body, the dark doing wonders to hide things but not the change in his visage. Penelope, after a few beats, realized her robe had come undone, and moved to quickly bring the fabric together and tie it closed.
"I had rather wondered when I saw the light coming from under the door, has it been you that has been in here the past few nights?" The question was innocent enough, but guilt flooded through her anyways.
"Yes, I will admit that I've been seeking refuge in the comfort of this chair and library – I find I cannot sleep, so I come down here to read until I tire," she admitted rather sheepishly.
Anthony glanced back into the hallway and stepped into the room closing the door. It was highly improper, but it was Anthony, she was not so much concerned with propriety when it came to him. Not after she had sobbed in his chest practically a fortnight ago.
"Is your room not to your liking? If there is something you need Penelope, all
You need do is ask, and I will make sure it is provided for you." There was a sincerity to his tone that caused gooseflesh to raise on her skin. That was something that had been happening lately when thoughts of him made their way into her mind. It was maddening. All Anthony wanted was to protect her as he would Eloise, yet her feelings were betraying her. Her feelings for Colin were betraying her – almost ebbing away in favour of someone else… She shook her head, simultaneously pushing such a vulgar thought away and realizing Anthony was waiting for her to respond.
"My room is wonderful," Penelope urged, "it is comfortable, and it feels like home – as it should. I just cannot sleep." She crossed her arms over her chest then, Anthony seemingly mirroring her actions.
"Is there something else troubling you then?" He took a step closer, and she could feel his dark gaze searching her countenance. "I know I am not Eloise, or Colin for that matter but I am here should you need someone to speak to. I know all too well the weight of carrying around heavy burdens, it does not signify to suffer in silence"
It was sweet really, that he was willing to be so helpful to her despite all that rest on his shoulders. He was so busy normally that such a thought was silly, even to Penelope.
A warm smile formed on her lips and she shook her head, a stray curl falling against her cheek in the process. "No more than what we have already discussed. I am truly at peace here, I promise. I feel very at home here." As was evident by her use of the library after the house had retreated to their bed.
"I am glad to hear it," he responded, his voice sounding thicker than it had a moment ago. There was a heat to his gaze as Anthony moved closer, almost as if he could burn a hole right through her. "You are an extension of this family, Pen." He stopped then, motioning to the book she had haphazardly placed in the chair.
"What are you reading?"
Penelope picked up the book and passed it to him, it was a novel she had read before, one that Eloise had allowed her to borrow. It was one she knew well, but found an odd sort of comfort in. "'The Modern Griselda' by Miss Maria Edgeworth" she began, opening her lips to explain the plot, only for Anthony to interrupt her.
"Ah, a fan of miss Edgeworth, are you?" He queried, a small smirk on his lips as he fanned through the pages. "I will admit to you, and only you, that I have read a few of her works. This one notwithstanding." Anthony carefully passed the book back to her, and Pen took it, cradling it to her chest as if it were a shield.
"Y-you have?" To say she was surprised would be an understatement. Edgeworth was considered a feminist. Anthony had never seemed the sort to approve of feminism, at least not where Eloise' spirited flights were concerned. "I will admit, that's rather shocking."
A mirth filled chuckle escaped him, and Anthony walked towards the fireplace. "Despite what it may appear, I do support the endeavours of my feminine counterparts. Besides that, as an elder brother I like to keep an eye on what Eloise is filling her mind with – even if I tease her, I do want what is best for her. While of course, keeping her safe and away from libertine and radical ideals." It was as if he had taken every thought she had had about him and had flipped them on their head.
Despite herself, Penelope smiled slightly and shook her head. "I will admit, you have a peculiar way of showing it at times." She replied, chuckling slightly. Though he could have taken offence to her words, Anthony simply glanced at her and nodded.
"I do indeed, though I am attempting to better myself, and seem less…." He paused for a moment, attempting to find the correct word. "Prudish is not the correct term, but I fear the proper one is illuding me." He stated, somewhat bashfully. "You understand my meaning though, yes?"
Penelope nodded and offered a look of encouragement, "So long as you are trying, I am sure no one will fault you. It is a poor man who does not see fault within himself and seek to rectify his actions, you have great character to try and better yourself. I am sure in time Eloise will see that." Somehow, she'd stepped closer to him, and she could see the depths of his brown eyes more clearly.
They were so much like Colins, but there was usually a coldness to them that separated the brothers. Colin's gaze was always full of joy and understanding, seldom did a callous thought cross his gaze. Anthony's was nothing but harsh and judging. Now however, standing before him in front of the firelight, there was a softness to them that she had never seen before. Perhaps he was tired? Surely that would make anyone seem soft.
"When did you become so wise, Penelope?" The timber of his voice caused a small shiver to run through her, quite unexpectedly as well. That shiver seemed to break whatever thought was in his mind, as his hand connected with her upper arm and he steered her closer to the hearth. Closer to him. "You must not catch a chill now, not when I am uncovering the depths of you."
She chuckled at that and rolled her eyes, grateful for the book she still clutched tight to her chest. It really was a sort of armour, keeping her from being too open to him. Under his gaze she already felt defenceless, especially with the warm glow of the fireplace making his brown eyes look amber. No wonder he was a rake, most women must feel defenceless against him.
It was that thought that cast some guilt through her.
What about Colin? The man who made her laugh, and chuckle. The man who rescued her constantly from Cressida Cowper and her venomous words. The man whom, until this very moment had held her heart firmly in his grasp. Absence was supposed to make the heart grow fonder, so why oh why was her heart fluttering when Anthony looked at her? Penelope gulped and took a small step back. Though she had not thought it noticeable, Anthony picked up on it, his brow raising some.
"I-I apologize, My-Anthony." She paused and let out a small sigh, "I fear my exhaustion has hit me all of the sudden, and I must return to my bed." It was a pathetic excuse, she knew that. But she needed to get away, to move away from him so that she could set her mind right.
"Of course, shall I escort you- "
"NO!" A flush raised in her cheeks and Penelope shook her head, "No, I appreciate the offer, but it is unnecessary. I have a candle; I can get back to my room just as well." She finished, her small delicate hand reaching up to squeeze his upper arm in reassurance. Somehow, despite the fact that he'd held her in his arms some days ago, the action was too intimate. Almost as if his skin was so hot, that it burned through his shirt and into her own skin. Quickly, she brought her hand away from his arm and cleared her throat.
"Well then, I bid you a good night, Pen – and sweet dreams." He breathed; voice soft. She could feel his gaze searching her visage, but she would not allow her blue eyes to raise and meet his. She needed to leave. As fast as she could muster without running or making a fool of herself, Penelope headed towards the door. She hesitated for a moment, hand lingering on the knob as she went to open it. Did she say something? Did she just leave? Would it be rude of she just left?
With a shaky breath, Penelope stole a glance back in his direction. 'That was a mistake' the voice in her head chimed. He was watching her leave, and it somehow made her heady. "G-goodnight, Anthony. I hope you sleep well." She managed to get out, opening the door and closing it swiftly behind her before he could say anything further.
She rest against the door for a moment, attempting to get her bearings. "What is wrong with me?" she whispered to herself, shaking her head as she looked into the dimly lit corridor. It was then that she realized that she forgot the candle she had said she would take. However, it was far too late to go back in the library. She could not face him again. Decidedly, Penelope started walking towards the staircase in which she'd descended, in hopes that a good night's rest would set her head right.
Chapter 4
Summary:
Anthony's POV of Chapter 3!
Notes:
ALRIGHT.
Don't ask me how i managed to get 2 chapters out in 1 weekend, but i did. It's an early Christmas miracle.
Anthony's POV somehow seems to come easier to me, so hopefully that translated. I've never taken a chapter and split it into two like this, but I tried? Any critiques would be warmly welcomed. I hope everyone enjoys, and as always please don't hesitate to let me know what you think!
P.S. If you guys want to reach out I can be found on Tumblr @polinslovechild or on twitter @katefarnsworthk :)
Chapter Text
Aubrey Hall Anthonys POV
Anthony had gotten up with the birds. Their chirping had stirred him from a seemingly peaceful slumber, and try as he might, he could not fall back to sleep. He had been in his office for hours, drafting missives to several people whom he owed correspondence, seeing over the estate and correcting the book so that the family accounts were taken care of. Being Viscount was not an easy job, and though he was sure there were some in the world that dismissed the duties of the aristocracy, Anthony knew he worked hard.
He deserved to enjoy his life though, so despite missing breakfast, he was determined to join his family for the rest of the day. Whatever was left to do for the estate could wait one measly day.
After asking the butler where his family was, he joined them outside. It was nice really, to see them all (save for Benedict, Colin, Daphne and Francesca) together. It was particularly enjoyable to have Penelope along with them, she was like family, always hanging around with Eloise – she fit right in.
As he made his way to the tent that had been set up to protect them all from the harsh heat of late summer, he heard the conversation and smiled. Gregory was still a boy deep down, despite the fact that he was growing. It was difficult for Anthony to see him as anything but that small little child that he had coddle after their father had died.
"Penelope is kind to give you some hope brother, but I can promise you that I will not go easy on you - any of you for that matter." He stated, wringing his hands together as he surveyed his family. Eloise and Hyacinth had set up pins for lawn bowling, and while Gregory was standing rather to the side, he looked as if he were ready at any given moment to jump in and play. Pen and his mother sat beneath the shade of the tent, and they both looked rather relaxed.
Suddenly, Eloise was speaking, "Why would you do that brother? It is not as if you are the undefeated champion. Why on earth would you let anyone else have the fun?" She truly was the queen of sarcasm.
He wanted to laugh, and instead of allowing Eloise to know that he took pride and enjoyment in her wit, he picked up a strawberry, choosing instead to focus on the fruit. "Precisely sister, why would I indeed?" He popped the succulent fruit in his mouth, savouring the bite. He refused to laugh and let Eloise have the upper hand, she may be intelligent, but she was still his little sister after all.
After placing what was left of the strawberry down in a small bowl, he turned his attention to Penelope who seemed to find something off in the distance rather intriguing. She was a part of their family whether she had their last name or no, she could not get out of the conversation so easily.
"Do not worry though, Miss Featherington. I shall take the utmost care to be gentle with you, should you choose to participate in our little game." Anthony let out, pursing his lips for a split moment as the double entendre hit him. There was no doubt in his mind that the double meaning would go over Penelope's head, yet the flush in her cheeks told him otherwise.
Could little innocent Penelope Featherington know what he meant? It was impossible. As much as he wanted to allow his mind to go rampant with thoughts about how she might know of such matters, his sister began speaking once more and it completely derailed the ride his contemplation had been going on.
"Do not be daft, brother. Penelope would rather enrich her mind with reading than to stoop to such barbarous lows as to play against you." Eloise shot, causing Gregory and Hyacinth to break out into a fit of giggles.
Anthony shook his head at her words. Surely, she would have a point – Penelope was fond of reading. However, he very much doubted that someone so young would want to miss out on such a fun game as Pall Mall, especially how their family took part. He was about to say as much when the petite red-head piped up.
"I do not know, Eloise. Perhaps I should like to try and take Anthony by surprise. I may have only played Pall Mall once, but I am a quick study and a revered opponent." Penelope evenly stated as she rose and made her way over to Gregory. All the while Anthony watched her, entertained at the challenge she posed. He had never pinned her as a competitive woman, always seeming rather enjoy being on the sidelines – not wanting to work for attention. Yet she had proved him wrong. It was surprisingly attractive.
Attractive? Penelope Featherington? The very same woman whom he had practically seen grow up from across the square? How very odd that he had never thought of her in such a way before. She was a beautiful young woman, naturally. In the sunlight her hair glowed like a fire ablaze in a hearth, and her countenance was certainly rather pleasing to look at.
As she stood there, next to Gregory, Anthony allowed himself a few beats to survey her further. She had a nice figure, no doubt tantalizing curves hidden underneath the god-awful yellow fabric her mother insisted on dressing her in. She held herself more confidently around their family, and again, he wondered why he had never even thought to consider her.
'You were too concerned with Sienna' the voice in the back of his mind reminded, and he mentally stalled at that. Sienna. Despite it having been some time since he had last seen or thought of her, her memory still stirred up a melody of conflicting emotions. Feeling himself being pulled into the melancholy state he'd worked so tirelessly to climb out of, he clapped his hands together and nodded, "Right, are we to lawn bowl, or simply quarrel about Pall Mall?"
It appeared to snap everyone out of their own thoughts, as Gregory shot straight for Hyacinth. Those two and their bickering would give him grey hair, he was certain of it. He couldn't blame them for bickering all the time, what with their closeness in age. Colin and Daphne had been the same when they were younger, Anthony had just happened to forget.
"You two must quit your squabbling, there are two bowling balls, you each may take a side and go first." He chastised, immediately turning into the paternal figure that each of them lacked. That was, unfortunately, the role he played for the two of them. Francesca was a little older, so he hadn't fully needed to take on such a paternal role, but poor Greg and Hyacinth had needed him.
Thinking of his father, and the multitude of roles he had taken on after his untimely death, Anthony looked at his mother, who seemed to be studying Penelope with an oddly tentative smile on her lips. Whatever his mother was up to, Anthony decided then and there that he wanted no part in it.
~~~
They had been at Aubrey Hall less than a week, but Anthony had unfortunately fallen into the same pattern he normally did. Sleeping late, dining with the family only twice, and working. That was all he seemed to do as of late. Due to his title, funds in the family needed to stay in the family, and keep the family afloat. Not just for his generation, but his children and their children thereafter. Investments, and any secondary properties he owned and sequentially rented – all of it was meant to further the future of the Bridgerton name. That was what kept him so busy.
With how preoccupied he was, it meant multiple late nights since arriving at Aubrey Hall. Each night he had stayed up late, pondering his future with a glass of brandy, he had left in the wee hours of the morning to see a dim light illuminating the boarder of the door to the library. At first, he had assumed it was Eloise, but after further investigation found that not to be the case.
Deciding he would see who was staying up late, he made his way into the library on the way to his chambers. Thankful for silent doors, he opened the heavy piece of oak to find a petite body in his favourite chair. Penelope.
Though she was his sister's best friend, the redhead had been plaguing his thoughts as of late. There was something about her that inspired the protector in him to come out more so than normal. Naturally, he protected his family, but the protective notions he had towards Penelope were different.
There was, of course, another side to him. A less gentlemanly side. He was a man after all, and he was not impervious to her delicate features, or the way her nose scrunched when she laughed. The part of him that woke early in the morning wanted to protect her in a different way, though protect was perhaps not the correct term. Possess was more apt.
As he stepped into the threshold of the library, he noted the sigh that came from her, and how he could see her chest rise just slightly from the corner of the chair.
Before he could stop himself, Anthony was speaking. "Does the novel displease you?"
He wanted to kick himself. Why would he interrupt a private moment? What was he to gain from letting her know of his presence? Absolutely nothing, yet he had had so little control over himself as to speak.
Penelope let out a small shriek, and suddenly she had turned in the chair to look up and see him. Her rather bright red tresses of hair, which were normally confined to a rather stingy but fashionable updo were free flowing over her shoulders. He had not realized just how voluminous and long her hair was, but she looked beautiful and relaxed.
"O-on the contrary" she breathed, moving to stand. "It is rather good, I simply seem to be restless, that is all. L-Lack of sleep will do that to you."
The stammering and light flush to her was a welcome sight, but as he took her in, his brown orbs travelled down her body. Any sort of thought he had experienced in the past few weeks regarding Penelope and whatever figure she may possess was wrong. From what little her robe allowed him to see, he was pleasantly surprised to know she surpassed his expectations.
'Get a hold of yourself man, she would not want you – you must stop thinking of her so' he told himself, and he straightened slightly as Penelope righted the fabric of her robe.
"I had rather wondered when I saw the light coming from under the door, has it been you that has been in here the past few nights?" Such a question was innocent, it would distract him from his racing thoughts, and it was a perfect segue for her to let him know of any shortcomings he had as a host.
"Yes, I will admit that I've been seeking refuge in the comfort of this chair and library – I find I cannot sleep, so I come down here to read until I tire," she admitted rather sheepishly.
For a split second, he questioned himself and whether he should move further into the library. No one was up, no one would find them in such a compromising position – her reputation would be safe with him. Smoothly, he closed the door and shut it, allowing them to be truly alone for the first time since the time he held her in his arms. His heart tugged at the memory of her weeping into his chest, but he had been there for her – that was what mattered.
"Is your room not to your liking? If there is something you need Penelope, all you need do is ask, and I will make sure it is provided for you." Despite where his mind so often seemed to go in regards to the young woman before him, he did want nothing more than to see her happy and taken care of. Making sure she was comfortable and seen too, was of the utmost importance to him.
"My room is wonderful," Penelope urged, "it is comfortable, and it feels like home – as it should. I just cannot sleep." She crossed her arms over her chest, and without thinking he mirrored her body language, attempting to gauge whether or not she was fully telling the truth.
"Is there something else troubling you then?" He took a step closer then, despite his own better judgement, and searched her countenance. "I know I am not Eloise, or Colin for that matter but I am here should you need someone to speak to. I know all too well the weight of carrying around heavy burdens, it does not signify to suffer in silence"
He too often suffered in silence, not wanting to burden any of his family members with all that he faced, and all that was on his shoulders. While he had no doubt, they would be empathetic and listen, they would not fully understand the pressures that he faced.
"No more than what we have already discussed. I am truly at peace here, I promise. I feel very at home here." Penelope replied, the softness to her tone reassuring him that she was telling the truth. So, he was not the only one burning the candle at both ends then. Whatever it was that kept her up, he wanted to squash it, and allow her the respite she deserved.
"I am glad to hear it," he responded, his voice sounding thicker than it had a moment ago. There was an odd sense of relief that washed over him when Penelope admitted she felt very at home at Aubrey Hall. Though it was the goal of every host to make sure their guests were comfortable and relaxed, knowing the Featherington girl felt at home was nice. Perhaps that was why she felt as if she could sit in a man's library in nothing but her night dress and robe. That damn night dress and robe. Whistledown had called him a Capital R Rake for God's sake, and yet there he stood being undone by Penelope in a nightdress and a dressing gown.
He could feel a heat flush through him and he took a few steps towards her, hand flexing at his side as he attempted to regain control of himself. 'You're being a fool' his conscience sang, reminding him where he stood. He did not deserve to have such thoughts, did not deserve to think that he owed himself such a kindness. Focusing instead on Penelope he nodded slightly, "You are an extension of this family, Pen." He stopped then, not wanting to make her feel awkward and motioned towards the book she had placed on the chair. It was another attempt to quell his thoughts and instead focus on something rather bland, like reading.
"What are you reading?"
Penelope picked up the book and passed it to him, Anthony studied it for a moment and smile slightly. He had read it once, after he'd seen Eloise with it in the drawing room. Though he was often rather busy, he attempted to make an effort in reading and leaning about what his siblings were up to. Penelope spoke as he slowly dragged his fingers along the title.
"'The Modern Griselda' by Miss Maria Edgeworth" she began, opening her lips to no doubt expand on the novel.
"Ah, a fan of miss Edgeworth, are you?" He interrupted, a small smirk on his lips as he fanned through the pages. "I will admit to you, and only you, that I have read a few of her works. This one notwithstanding." It was a rather vulnerable admission, seeing as only Benedict knew of his extracurricular reading having caught him one night. He passed the novel back to her and noted the look in her gaze. Ironically, she was rather easy to read – unable to school her expression to hide any sort of shock she may have about his reading habits.
"Y-you have?" There was a pause, as she decided whether or not to let him know her true thoughts. "I will admit, that's rather shocking."
Before he could stop himself, Anthony let out a mirth filled chuckle and headed towards the fireplace, hand reaching out automatically to rest on the wooden mantle. "Despite what it may appear, I do support the endeavours of my feminine counterparts. Besides that, as an elder brother I like to keep an eye on what Eloise is filling her mind with – even if I tease her, I do want what is best for her. While of course, keeping her safe and away from libertine and radical ideals."
Anthony looked at her then, allowing himself to get slightly lost in her blue-eyed gaze for a brief moment before her speaking knocked him out of his reverie. He looked away from her then, choosing instead to focus on the grip that his fingers had on the wood.
"I will admit, you have a peculiar way of showing it at times." She replied, with a small chuckle. Her chuckle made him glance at her again, and he took a rather hard swallow. Something about Penelope made him want to be vulnerable with her. He could trust her wholeheartedly, and it was nice to know that his thoughts were safe with her.
"I do indeed, though I am attempting to better myself, and seem less…." He paused for a moment, racking his brain for the correct verbiage. "Prudish is not the correct term, but I fear the proper one is illuding me." He stated, bashful at the fact that he was so tongue tied and flustered that he could not think of the correct term. "You understand my meaning though, yes?"
There was a look of understanding that passed through her gaze as Pen nodded and he felt his body relax slightly. "So long as you are trying, I am sure no one will fault you. It is a poor man who does not see fault within himself and seek to rectify his actions, you have great character to try and better yourself. I am sure in time Eloise will see that." She stated evenly, taking a step closer to him.
Between her words and her proximity, Anthony, ashamedly so, was a mess. Penelope was Eloise's best friend, and Colins for that matter. He had known her for years, so why on earth was it as if he had just found her? Like she was some sort of long-lost treasure?
"When did you become so wise, Penelope?" It was less of a question for her, as it was more of a query for himself. Whatever else he wanted to say though, was thwarted when he saw Penelope shiver, the protective side of him kicking into action before he could correct himself. His hand met with her upper arm and he brought her closer to the warmth of the fire – and him. In such close proximity, he could see her more clearly, smell her too. She smelled of fresh linen and lemon. It was rather refreshing, just as everything else about her seemed to be. "You must not catch a chill now, not when I am uncovering the depths of you."
The words were nothing but the truth, she was an enigma that he wished to solve wholeheartedly. Though, the seriousness of his words was lost on Penelope as she chuckled and rolled her eyes. The action, despite being quick, caused him to smile slightly. There was a fire within her, no doubt to match the deep amber colour of her long tresses; he could not wait to uncover it.
For some reason, unbeknownst to him, there was a sudden shift. Almost as if God himself had struck the pair of them with a bolt of lightning. Penelope took a step back, and the openness of her visage and being seemed to completely close in. She was awkward and closed off again. Before he could ask her, what was wrong, she was speaking.
"I-I apologize, My-Anthony." She paused and let out a small sigh, "I fear my exhaustion has hit me all of the sudden, and I must return to my bed." Were it any other moment, and he had not feared he had offended her somehow, Anthony might have dwelled on the way the words 'my' and 'Anthony' had been placed so closely together in her sentence. Now however, was not the time for that.
Concern riddled him as he itched to reach out for her, whatever he had done he would work tirelessly to rectify it. "Of course, shall I escort you- "
"NO!" she exclaimed – it really was as if he had offended her. "No, I appreciate the offer, but it is unnecessary. I have a candle; I can get back to my room just as well." She finished, her small delicate hand reaching up to squeeze his upper arm in reassurance. Her touch burned through the thin fabric of his shirt and he opened his mouth to speak, works faulting him for a brief moment. What did he say to someone he must have offended?
"Well then, I bid you a good night, Pen – and sweet dreams." He breathed; voice soft. For some reason, she was not meeting his gaze and made rather quickly for the door. He hadn't said anything untoward, nor had he reached out of her as he had wanted. Perhaps Penelope could read his mind, or perhaps she did not enjoy his company as much as he had thought.
He was intent on watching her, making sure she was alright. In truth he wanted to follow her, but did not want to make her even more uncomfortable than she already appeared.
Somehow, Penelope spoke again and he could hear the nervousness in her tone. "G-goodnight, Anthony. I hope you sleep well." And as quickly as she said it, she was gone.
"What in the damned hell just happened?" he said to the empty room, blinking a few times as he attempted to go over the events of the moment. Anthony thought he had been behaving well, keeping himself at bay, but he must have done something to make her leave so quickly.
"Blast it," he swore, practically throwing himself into the chair Penelope had vacated with a dramatic flourish. A deep sigh escaped him as he shook his head, a flicker from the corner of his eye catching his attention.
She had forgotten her candle.
"Oh Pen…" was all he said, as he rubbed his face over his hands.
Chapter 5
Summary:
The aftermath of the evening in the library!
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and there was a rather lovely warm breeze rustling the flowers in the garden of Aubrey Hall. Normally, such a setting would be the perfect recipe to ease his plagued mind, this morning however, it was not working. He had spent a better part of the night tossing and turning, willing sleep to greet him with open arms. However, the sleep did not come. Instead, thoughts of Penelope had hit him like a wave, and he was stuck in a storm.
All he could think about was her porcelain skin, the messy curls in her hair, and the way she had looked positively divine in the firelight. She was his sister's best friend though, and he knew, no matter how much he might have wanted to go after her last night and take her in his arms that it would not do. She was an innocent in need of protection, and apparently, he needed to protect her from himself.
Anthony was seated on a stone bench in the garden, attempting to focus on the botany surrounding him, desperate to cub the thoughts running on a constant loop in his mind. Penelope was a breath of fresh air, something different. It seemed as if country life agreed with her, like she felt more comfortable to come out of the shell she seemed to consistently keep herself enclosed in in London. Deep down, he knew that there was no way she could feel anything remotely similar for him. He had seen the way she had looked at Colin. Colin was the man she wanted, but it did not mean that Anthony could not watch her from afar and ensure her safety.
He wiped a hand over his features and stood from where he had been seated, brushing his hands along his waistcoat. He was preparing to take a walk about the grounds to ensure that everything was in order before heading off to visit his tenants when he saw a familiar flash of colour out of the corner of his eye.
This time however, it was not a flash of God awful yellow or tangerine. Penelope was outfitted in a rather becoming green that made her hair pop in a striking way. He paused for a moment, noting quite late that he had started taking a step towards her. Since when did he actively consider Penelope's auburn tresses delicious?
A small prickle of anxiety began to bud in the depths of his stomach, and Anthony took a shaky breath. He needed to keep himself in check, he was after all, a gentleman.
Before he could turn on his heel and head out the opposite way, Penelope looked up and she stopped in her tracks. There was a flicker of recognition in her features that for a moment made him think she was feeling the same, but he pushed it to the side.
'She has feelings for your brother' his conscience rang, bringing him back down to earth.
"Good morning, Pen." He greeted, offering her a warm smile as he crossed his hands behind his back. She wavered for a moment before taking a step towards him, telling Anthony that she was willing to engage in conversation, he met her halfway.
"Good morning, Anthony." She replied, offering him a small head nod. From their proximity he could see how tired she looked, and it poked at something within him. Despite not knowing how, he wanted to make her feel better, to take her exhaustion onto himself – no matter how tired he already was.
"I did not see you at breakfast," she admitted, gaze flickering to the ground momentarily. Had she been looking for him? His chest swelled slightly at the thought, but instead of letting that show at all, he nodded.
"Yes, I rose rather early and decided to break my fast without the others. I had some business that needed to be seen to and it could not wait until after." He lied, shifting slightly in his place as he looked around the garden. They were just standing there, a little closer than necessary or even proper. "I take it you did not come out here for me," he paused, offering her a small chuckle.
"N-no, I was not. I was simply wishing to get a moment to myself in the garden. Your mother speaks so highly of it, and I will admit that whenever I am in here with El… Well, you do know how she enjoys speaking." Pen offered, a glimmer of humour flashing through her gaze.
With a knowing nod, Anthony moved so that the pathway was clear, and she could join him. "If you would permit me to lead you about the garden, I would be happy to oblige. I ensure you that I can be a much quieter companion." Though there was a teasing edge to his words, Anthony did fully intend to commit to being quiet and allowing Penelope the opportunity to walk through the garden without any obstructed thoughts, so long as he was with her. He did not want to go back to his duties just yet.
Penelope chuckled and shook her head at him, taking a step. "Do you often seek refuge in the garden?" She inquired, clasping her hands together in front of her. "I would imagine one would find a sense of calm out here amongst all the flowers, especially when the house can get so very… busy."
She seemed so much more at ease with him now than she did in the library, less skittish and uncertain. Though, she still seemed a little shy, Anthony was not questioning himself as much as he had the night before. Though, the temptations he had felt were strong as ever.
He licked his lips and nodded, glancing at the flowers instead of her. He needed to keep his thoughts on par with the conversation, and not allow them to race to other more prominent subjects. "If I am not in the library or at the lake, I can certainly be found here. Though I admit it is not always my first choice. Most of the time while I am in the country I take to riding, the fields and paths are far more enjoyable out here than they are in more populated areas." He replied, allowing himself the opportunity to take a glance at her. She was studying him slightly, and for a moment, he felt slightly nervous under her gaze. Did she approve of what he had said? Did she suspect him of lying?
"I have never been one for riding, but I do envy you the opportunity to go riding so easily while you are out here. I am sure you are gone for hours." She mused, her voice slightly soft, as if her thoughts were far off. "It is so nice to have such a solace."
"Do you not seek solace when you are at home?" Anthony questioned, confusion littering his brow.
Penelope squared him with a look, her brow arched. "Of course, you have met my family." She began, letting out the slightest of chuckles. "I am much more prone to reading or promenading though. I will admit to you though, that I have not felt the need to fully escape while here, most certainly not as I would back home."
There was something in her words that made Anthony stand up a little straighter. So, she was feeling at home, and felt safe. Considering Aubrey Hall was a place that Anthony too considered to be his haven, where he could go without feeling too many worries, learning that Aubrey Hall, could provide such a happiness for Penelope filled him with an odd sense of joy – one that he had not experienced in some time.
Not since he had first met Sienna.
"It brings me great relief to hear that, Pen." He let out, his fingers absentmindedly flexing behind his back as a curl move to her milky white shoulder. "I know you said that riding has never been a favourite of yours, but if you would ever like to join me one day, I would be more than happy to have some company. Ashford is a great beast, but he is not one for conversation."
"I take it Ashford is your horse?" Penelope inquired, a small smirk forming on her lips as she looked at him.
Anthony nodded his assent and offered her a grin. "He was a gift from my father and is the calmest animal. We have a mare that all the children learned to ride on that would suit you, should you take me up on my offer."
Penelope thought for a moment, her gaze going down to the gravel path that they traversed in tandem. "I think I should like that, My- Anthony. So long as you assure me you will not tease or judge me too harshly for my lack of experience."
How Penelope ever thought he would tease her was beyond him. If anything, her even considering his offer was confirmation enough that she enjoyed his company and was open and willing to new experiences. Why would he ever judge her for that?
Carefully, Anthony took her hand, relishing in the warmth of her delicate digits for a breath before placing her hand in the crook of his elbow. "I would never dream of teasing you for stepping outside of your comfort zone, Penelope. I may joke , but I would not dare degrade you."
He could see something within her change, and for a moment, he thought that he may have overstepped. However, just as quickly as the look on her face had changed, her features were schooled once more into the easy look she always sported. Any sort of crisis that he thought he might have started was thankfully averted when she glanced at him, the same gaze she always gave him reflected in the blue pools of her eyes. "And here I thought you would tease me as you would Eloise or Fran." She mused, purposely bumping into his arm slightly to show she was teasing him.
"If you would like me to tease you I can, I'm awfully good at it." He breathed, unable to stop himself from allowing the double entendre to taint the air. No matter how well behaved he promised himself he would be, there was always an opportunity for him to turn the situation around, and while he was used to doing it with other women, doing it around Penelope was new. He very much doubted that she would understand his meaning, but that was half the fun of it really.
Her blue eyes flickered up to his countenance for a moment, and his brow quirked. "What? You were the one who rebuffed my kind and gentlemanly gesture." He stated before Penelope could get anything out. In retaliation, she lightly smacked him against the bicep a feigned look of astonishment on her features.
"I was merely teasing you back and you know it." She jokingly chastised, pulling her hand away from his arm to break from their pace and walk towards some chrysanthemums. Instead of speaking or bantering back with her Anthony just stopped and stared. Penelope resembled that of a wood nymph who had come out of hiding to check on the garden, and make sure the flowers were in full bloom. Were he Benedict, he would have sketched it.
The sudden realization that he was admiring her so openly gave Anthony reason to pause. She was a guest in his home, and a friend of Eloise and Colins – not to mention Penelope's pre-disposed feelings for his younger sibling. There was no quantifiable rhyme or reason for him to be studying her so closely. In fact, he was convinced she would think he was leering.
Abruptly, Anthony turned, choosing instead to focus on the clouds moving quickly across the blue expanse of the sky rather than Penelope. He would not make Penelope uncomfortable. He had sworn to protect her, even if that meant keeping himself away from her.
"I am afraid I have to be getting back to my duties today, Pen." Anthony began, stealing a glance in her direction. Her head lifted and she looked at him, as if she were studying him. Oh, how he wanted to know what was going through her mind.
"And here I thought you were going to be teasing me some more, my Lord." She replied, standing up straight and turning towards him. "I hope I have not kept you?"
It was sweet that she was so concerned, and the furrow of her brow when she asked made him want to take her in his arms and – No. No, it would not do. He had to get away from her before he did something completely abhorrent. Besides, he still had tenants to see to, and letters that needed replying to. "Of course not, Pen. I did offer to escort you, did I not?" He let out; voice softer than he had been intending. Without thinking, he made his way towards her, and took her soft hand within the confines of his own once more. This time Anthony allowed himself to get lost in the feeling of her. How soft her skin was, how perfectly her hand fit within his.
"That you did," she all but whispered, her blue eyes focused solely on their joined hands. Were Penelope not a lady of gentle breeding their afternoon no doubt could have transpired in a way completely different. Alas, she was Pen. She deserved someone who could love her whole heartedly, take their time with her, and see her for who she truly was. Not just a woman to let their base urges out on. Most certainly not the kind of woman who was owed a Rake.
"Then you will forgive me for cutting our time together short?" he inquired, dipping down to press a whisper of a kiss to her skin. If he really wanted to tease her, he would have taken her hand and turned it over to place another small kiss to the inside of her palm, but he could not.
"There is nothing to forgive, Anthony. You are a viscount; you must see to your duties." Penelope stated, her voice never wavering. There was something in her gaze however that made him pause and hover over her hand, debating if he should lean into his urges. But, as if on cue, he heard the calling of his name and whatever shadow had come over him was lost.
"Duty calls," he chuckled, squeezing her hand one last time before turning back, heading towards the entrance of the garden.
Penelope stood in the garden for a few moments longer, staring at the space Anthony had disappeared. The past twenty-four hours seemed like some sort of dream. A man with whom she had barely spoken to except for pleasantries and simple conversation had spoken with her in a library well past midnight, had looked at her with such heat in his gaze that it left her tossing and turning all night, and now had left her in his family's garden with a racing heartbeat. All the while, she was supposed to be in love with his younger brother.
"I'm going mad," she let out, glad that she was alone in the garden. She had to be if she were going to even allow herself to think that someone like Anthony Bridgerton would ever have feelings for her. Colin did not even have feelings for her, nor would he ever. So why would Anthony? All he was doing was being there for her, the way he said he would. He was trying to take care of her and protect her because despite his rakish ways, Anthony did not possess a bad bone in his body.
With a small huff, Penelope made her way over to an alcove, set back slightly into the expansive bushes outlining the garden. A wooden bench was enclosed, vines curling all along the aged material, giving it a rather rustic look. It was serene, and peaceful, and would give her ample privacy to allow her thoughts to get themselves in order.
Pen had spent the entirety of the night after resurfacing to her bedroom thinking about the library. How Anthony had spoken to her, how he had looked at her. She had spent so long attempting to rectify her thoughts and make everything correct in her mind that she had barely gotten a wink of sleep. Eloise had even made a comment at breakfast about how tired she looked, and Pen had inwardly groaned. If only Eloise knew that Penelope was in love with Colin and was currently fighting off feelings for yet another one of the Bridgerton men.
She blinked slowly, staring at a few blades of grass poking through the gravel walkway. If Penelope were to even have a chance at stopping such absurd thoughts, she would need to endeavour to stay as far away from Anthony as possible. Of course, such a feat would be difficult considering she was staying at his country seat, but there were enough Bridgertons to go around, and enough spaces she could hide in without getting notice. Besides, El had been going on about going on a picnic – surely such an adventure would lead them away from Anthony for quite a time.
Besides, with Colin gone and her plan to stay away from Anthony - once she returned to her family, she could focus on getting herself ready for the next season. With Phillipa all but engaged, her mama would be focused solely on herself and Prudence, leaving no room for a flight of fancy. Such girlish notions would have to go out the window. Yes, staying away from him would do well, besides, Anthony could still assist in protecting her from afar, could he not?
With a decided nod, Penelope got up from her perch and smoothed out her dress. If she was going to be successful, she needed to busy herself. She would have to find Eloise or Francesca and implore them to keep her busy, which, she doubted would be challenge.
As she made her way out of the garden, Pen was met with Eloise and Benedict, the pair strolling arm in arm towards her.
"Ah, there you are Pen! Anthony said you would be here." Eloise greeted, holding her hand out for Pen to take. Eagerly, she took her best friend's hand and squeeze her digits, offering them both a bright smile.
"I was admiring your mothers garden, she spoke so highly of it at supper last night, I just had to see it." She let out, noticing the flurry of action on lawn a short distance away. "I thought we would not be seeing you for another day or two, Benedict! It is a pleasure to see you here at last, I am sure Gregory is happy to have you here."
Benedict chuckled and rubbed at the back of his head, "Yes, I was meant to stay in London another day, but I was getting restless. Besides, I was promised a game of Pall Mall, and I thought to surprise Anthony so that he could not sabotage my chance at winning." He replied with a cheeky wink.
Penelope shook her head at him and glanced at Eloise who had rolled her eyes, "You did not jest when you stated the game was of the most importance." She stated, remembering the discussion that had unfolded yesterday morning. No doubt there would be a metaphorical war transpiring on the lawn when the Bridgertons got to playing Pall Mall.
"I told you she did not believe me brother; we must have Pen play with us so she too may feel the power there is in competing against you all." Eloise suggested, turning her attention up to Benedict expectantly.
Penelope followed the brunette's cue and noticed the wavering look on Benedict's countenance as he glanced between the two. "I would hate to subject Pen to such skylarking, but if she is up to the challenge than I would be happy to beat her." The man offered, a smirk splaying on his lips.
The Bridgertons were many things, but they were not losers. Each and every one of them endeavoured to win at whatever game they were playing, Pen had seen it enough times to know.
"I have already told Gregory that I would participate, someone has to help him beat you all, and what with me not being a Bridgerton I think it a fine opportunity." She replied, shrugging slightly. It was then that she noticed a flurry of activity behind the pair before her, and her brow rose. "What is going on over there?"
Eloise squeeze Penelope's hand and chuckled, the sound seeming much more ominous than usual. "It is Pall Mall, Pen. I do hope you are ready."
Notes:
Okay so this took me a little longer to get out there - sorry about that guys. Hopefully you like where I've left off, I'm going to go reply to some of your comments now. Just wanted to say that I am so grateful for all the feedback from everyone, you have no idea how much I appreciate each and every one of you!
Pall Mall is next, I'm not quite sure when I'll get that chapter out what with the Christmas holiday's coming, but I'll do my best do have it pumped out prior to the new year!
P.s. i know i tagged this slow burn, but what's a slow burn? I certainly don't know her!
Chapter 6
Summary:
It's Pall Mall time everyone! The Bridgertons don't fight a fair game, and Pen has a front row seat! A pond may or may not be involved.
Notes:
I am SO SO sorry this took so long to get out, y'all! The holiday's were insane and then I ended up getting a new job! I'm also horrible at writing down action sequences (such as Pall Mall) so i was struggling with how I was going to effectively do this chapter. I switched things up a bit and I hope you guys like it! I've got another chapter planned out and I HOPE to get Chapter 7 out MUCH sooner than this one.
Thank you all for leaving kudos, and kind words for me each and every chapter. You have no idea how much I appreciate it 3
Chapter Text
When she had first agreed to playing Pall Mall with the Bridgerton brood, Penelope had thought herself ready. Having seen how competitive they could get at times; she figured that Pall Mall would not differ much from that of a friendly game of chess. As soon as mallet met ball, it was as if the atmosphere had changed. Each and every one of the brunettes were on edge, and suddenly the confidence that Penelope had gained seemed to dwindle slightly.
It took two turns for ugly colours to show. Benedict had shot Eloise's ball away from the course that Hyacinth and Gregory had haphazardly put together, so her best friend was off attempting to hit her ball out of a bushel of roses; while Gregory had shot Hyacinths ball ahead two pegs – causing her to have to double back. Other than herself, Francesca seemed to be the only one really playing for the sake of the enjoyment of the game. Penelope glanced over at the group of brown-haired people and shook her head, she was not one to back down from a challenge, but she did not know if she would do as well in the game as she had originally predicted.
What made matters worse, was that despite wanting to focus on the game at hand, and him telling her that he had duties to address, Anthony was playing the game. It would not have been so bad really, had he not left one of the softest of kisses on her hand. A kiss so utterly light that it could have been a feather, yet where his lips had touched burned – almost as if the kiss had seared itself into her skin. Despite the copious distractions that were stacking against her, Pen was still determined to play a good and fair game. Besides, she owed it to Gregory to at least try to help him.
"Right Pen, you're up." Benedict stated, shaking her out of her reverie.
A sheepish smile graced her features as she took a couple of strides up to her yellow ball. As a kind gesture Gregory had given it to her, saying "You wear yellow so often, it must be your favourite." Poor Penelope hadn't the heart to tell him otherwise.
Though she had played Pall Mall before, the Bridgertons seemed to be more in tune with winning than truly getting any sort of joy out of the game, but thus far, her ball had remained unscathed from anyone's wrath. She carefully positioned herself behind the yellow ball, aiming to get it through the wicket without much effort. She was about to take a shot when she noticed a warmth over her, a sudden realization that she was being watched, and slowly, as if her eyes were acting on their own, her gaze lifted to see Anthony staring at her. The depths of his gaze seemed to know no bounds, and she felt her heart skip a beat.
A shuddering breath escaped her and she quickly looked down, suddenly aware that her cheeks were gaining some colour. In an effort to assure no one was looking at her, she hit the ball, watching thankfully as it rolled through the wicket with ease. She was one step closer to winning and being done with the wretched game.
Instead of instigating anything with the next person to go (since Eloise was still attempting to get her ball out of a rose bush), Penelope just saddled up next to Gregory and Hyacinth who were conspiratorially predicting how the game would go. Despite their constant bickering, they were close, closer than she had ever been with her sisters.
"Brother, please do save us all some time and stray the course." Benedict goaded, causing Penelope to look up once more. It was Anthony's turn, and the man was already in position. Though, it looked as if he were contemplating something as he studied his ball.
"Why on earth would I give you all the satisfaction?" he breathed, a small chuckle escaping him.
Though she wanted to look away, she found she could not, intrigued by where he was going to cast his ball. It was an awkward angle for him to shoot, but should he get the ball through the wicket, he could be close enough to the next without much effort. But, it dawned on her just as he was raising his mallet that he, nor the mallet in question were at the correct angle. Instead, the way he was angled looked like his ball was on a trajectory straight for her own.
Her brows shot up and before she could utter a word, her fear had come into fruition. Anthony's ball had gone through the wicket and met with hers almost ferociously, sending her ball careening towards the pond.
"Anthony!" Hyacinth cried beside her, almost offended on her behalf.
"What?" the man rebutted, resting his weight on the mallet. He looked smug, and all together too pleased with himself. "If dear little Pen would like to play, she must learn that we Bridgertons do not fight fair."
It was those words that made her scoff and look at him with a slight and very faux distain. "I did not know you were so ungentlemanly." She retorted, shaking her head disapprovingly. In spite of pretending she was cross with him, a smirk splayed on her lips at the retort, much to her chagrin.
Her words seemed to startle him slightly, but in a way that had him squaring his shoulders. "I am a gentleman, Pen. I just thought if you are to play with family – you aught to be treated as such." There was an intensity to his gaze that she could not quite isolate, but it made her shift from one foot to the other.
"Well then brother," Francesca started, coming out to the playing field from beside Benedict. "You will have no problem with me evening the play."
As if she had cast Anthony and his ball aside thousands of times before, Francesca stepped up to her ball and instead of hitting it through the designated wicket, hit Anthony's and sent it barrelling in the same direction Penelope's had. A low whistle sounded from Anthony as he seemed to come to terms with the fact that his ball was significantly out of play. Meanwhile, Benedict was beaming as if he were a cat that had gotten the cream.
"Well then, I suppose we should endeavour to get our balls back into play, Miss Featherington." Anthony stated, swinging his mallet so that the rod rest on his shoulder. After their time together in the garden, Penelope had been looking forward to an Anthony free afternoon. However, it seemed that fate had other ideas. When she looked at him, he was giving her a careful glance, and though there was nothing inherently different about his gaze, it still caused warmth to spread throughout her body.
"I suppose so." Pen replied, casting Gregory and encouraging look. "Not to worry, I'll make sure that I get back and aid you in winning." She promised, patting his cheek the way she'd seen Violet do numerous times.
The young boy beamed at her and nodded eagerly. "I'll see what I can do while you are gone," he encouraged.
Pen offered him a mirrored smile and nodded, before picking up her mallet and heading starting off in the direction of her ball. Though she loved Francesca, it was decided then and there that Penelope was less than pleased with the young Bridgerton. Were it not for her, she could have had a grand time getting her ball back to the course without a distraction of such epic proportions.
Said distraction saddled up beside her as they walked towards the pond, the pair in comfortable yet just slightly awkward silence.
"Your family is much more competitive than I had first imagined," she let out, stealing a look at Anthony out of the corner of her eye. His gaze was locked on her, his deep brown orbs boring a hole straight through her.
"Is that a wave of a white flag, Pen?" He asked, the smirk on his face evident in his tone.
She looked at him then, brow arched. "I'm not one to give up so easily, Mr. Bridgerton" she replied, lengthening her strides so that she could get towards her ball faster. Though, Anthony's height gave him an advantage, as he lengthened his stride to match hers, he ended up being just a little faster.
"You say that as if I have not noticed, it is a rather admirable trait." He began, slowing down his steps ever so slightly. "Though it will not help you in terms of the game." The smirk was back on his features, and Penelope wanted to wipe it off of his plump lips.
"Is that so? I thought I was doing rather well before my ball was tossed rather cruelly out of the way." She retorted, puffing her chest out a little. Pall Mall wasn't exactly difficult, and she had been doing well, but the Bridgertons were in a league of their own.
That garnered a chuckle from him, and Penelope rolled her eyes. Even his chuckle had her heart skipping a beat; she needed to save her ball and quickly.
"Have I said anything to the contrary?" Anthony questioned, stopping abruptly in his tracks. "I'm going to have to punish Francesca somehow when we get back."
Penelope turned her attention to the direction he was staring in. There were two very distinct trails that lead straight to the water, the only difference being that Penelope's yellow ball hadn't quite made its way into the water. The second track, belonging to Anthony's ball, lead straight into the murky water. A queer sort of satisfaction spread throughout her body, and her blue eyes found her companions visage.
"I dare say, your sister is an incredible shot." She mused, a smirk tugging on her lips as she noticed the Viscount scratch at the stubble on his chin.
"I rather have to unfortunately agree," he replied, trudging forward towards the pond. It was not a small body of water by any means but getting his ball out would still be a feat.
Penelope followed him, pursing her lips as a way to keep any sort of giggle subdued. A man's honour and pride were about as fragile as a vase around a child, the last thing she wanted to do was upset the viscount in his very own home. "I doubt it is very far into the water, it is not exactly a light ball." She mused, raising her hand to cover her eyes in an attempt to give her gaze some shade.
"I would like to agree, however, you would be surprised." He mused, turning in her direction. "I'll have to go in a ways to assess it's location. Would you mind holding this?" he asked, holding his mallet out for her to take.
"It's the least I could do," she replied, taking it and watching as Anthony attempted to assess where his ball was from the shoreline. "You don't think a fish or swan could grab it, do you?" it was a ridiculous idea, and she knew it as soon as the words had passed her lips.
Despite how silly the notion was, it earned a chuckle from him and he shook his head as he began stepping into the water. "I very much doubt that Pen, but would that not be quite the story? Viscount loses his pall mall ball to a bird." He laughed again, and the sound made something within her chest clench.
Attempting to ignore the way her heart was behaving, Pen decided to turn her attention to the surroundings. It truly was a place one would be happiest. It was calm, serene. She would certainly be able to get quite a bit of writing done with so little distractions. The city always had noises, out here all there would be would be the sound of nature. A surge of jealousy hit her, whoever Anthony married would be one very lucky woman indeed.
The sound of water moving haphazardly brought her back down to earth, and she watched as Anthony combed the pond floor for the pall mall ball. There was a look of determination on his features that was both adorable and entertaining.
"Where the bl-" Anthony began, glancing up at Pen and coughing slightly. "What I meant to say, is I'm not sure where the thing's gone to." He stated, shaking his head.
Penelope didn't want to say the words, but it appeared that they were evident on her features. Before she could so much as utter a word to him, Anthony was tutting and holding a hand up in her direction. "I will not give up so easily, the ball will be found and all will be righted."
She wanted to laugh. He was so utterly determined. The joke was she could easily cheat him out and hit her ball, be done with spending the time with him and see to playing the game with the others, but there was something about watching him search for the ball that made her stay. "Should you like me to help?"
Pen hadn't thought of getting in the water per say, but she could get closer to the 'shoreline' and aid him, surely.
"The help is not necessary, but if you insist you may. Just don't fall in, the last thing we need is for you to get soaking wet." He glanced up at her then, his gaze searching her for a moment longer than perhaps necessary.
Without much more prompting, Pen dropped one of the mallets and proceeded to walk to the waters edge, attempting to assist in his search. With how murky the water was, she very much doubted that they would be able to retrieve the ball, but she didn't want Anthony to sense her loss of hope just yet.
As he wadded slowly into the water, he sent ripples along the surface, causing more of the dirt on the floor to rise. Visibility was slim, and Penelope pursed her lips. The only way she would be able to find the ball at all would be to use the mallet. Carefully, she put the end of the mallet on the floor of the pond and moved it around slowly.
After five minutes of surprisingly comfortable silent, Penelope looked up to find that Anthony had wadded perhaps a little too deeply into the body of water. The water was licking at the fabric on his hips. She just knew his pants would be ruined, let alone his boots. "Anthony," she began with a slow sigh.
"I know," he let out, hanging his head back a little. "It is a lost cause. I'll have to send away for another ball," he mused to himself, hands propping on his hips. Were it any other person, Pen would like to think such an image – a viscount hip deep in a pond looking for a pall mall ball would be silly. Instead, it showed that Anthony was dedicated, if not stubborn as an ox.
"You could always paint one of the other balls?" it was a cheaper alternative, but she knew even offering it the man would not go for it.
Anthony looked at her then, his brown eyes glimmering slightly against the sunlight. "I could, but then we would have an odd amount of mallets to balls. It is not too much trouble to order another ball…" he trailed off then, turning to face her.
Pen let out a slow breath, she'd spent far more time with the man than she'd anticipated but at least it had been easier, she had been focused on finding the ball instead of him.
"Now-" Anthony stopped abruptly, confusion etched on his features. He was mid step, his knee seemingly not rising despite wholeheartedly trying. "No."
Penelope shifted slightly, and went to take a step towards him, not caring about the hem of her dress. "Are you quite alright?"
"I am stuck." He let out, almost as if he were trying not to laugh at the mere thought. "What a row of luck, I lose my ball, and now I am stuck in a pond." A few more tugs of his leg, and it was solidified that the Viscount was good and stuck.
She stopped for a moment, assessing the situation. He was stuck, and it was no use for her to get stuck either, but if she had to help him the most she could do was wade a little deeper onto the water. Penelope let out a sigh and took a few more steps in, holding back a hiss as the water hit her calve. "Can you reach my hand?" She asked, extending her arm as far as she could. If she did not normally hate her small stature, she certainly did in such an instance as helping a friend out of a sticky situation.
Anthony strained for her hand, their fingertips off from one another by a few centimetres. "No, it's no use, and I'd rather you not get stuck either." He replied, motioning to the mallet in her hand. "Hold out the mallet and pull me to you."
Blue eyes fixed on the mallet in her hand, a red flush spreading to her cheeks at the realization that she should have just offered that to him in the first place. "Right, of course."
Pen extended her arm, mallet in hand towards Anthony. He grabbed on to the opposite end and nodded to her. Despite the fact that she had always been known as the 'stocky' Featherington girl, she'd never been that strong, so pulling a grown man with a slippery mallet when working against mud was not an easy feat. It took a few haphazard and off-balance tugs from each of them for the pair to realize that they had to work together in tandem to get Anthony out of the sticky situation that he'd found himself in. Once the rhythm had been found all it took were a few tugs.
One.
Two.
Three.
On the fourth and final tug, Anthony's boot finally was released from the mud.
What neither of them counted on however, was the fact that the man would stumble on his next step and send them both into the water.
Somehow, in the haze of their bodies falling into the water, Anthony had managed to wrap a hand around Penelope's head, in an automatic effort to save her head from hitting anything sharp in the water.
When Penelope opened her eyes, she quickly realized that not only was she in a pond, sullying her dress. But that Anthony was on top of her, looking at her with a rather concerned notion in his gaze.
"Pen, are you alright?" he breathed, the rush of his breath against the skin of her face was stupefying, and she simply lay there for a moment. She had never been so close to a man. Of course, she'd danced with the Bridgerton men before, but never had the situation given to such impropriety that her body had been pressed flush against a man.
"I-I wasn't expecting you to go flying." She breathed, offering him a small chuckle as she finally settled her gaze on his. There was a bit of mirth there, along with something else that lingered and made a tingle crawl up her spine.
"Nor did I, I thought it would be a much easier feat." He stated, bringing his hand from beneath her head to gentle move some of her hair from her forehead. It was an automatic reaction, one that he couldn't have stopped even if he had wanted to, and Pen could see that just from the shift in his gaze. It was as if with that movement they were both acutely aware of their positioning.
Her blue eyes fixed on his lips, which parted suddenly. Though, it was not as if he wanted to say something, no rather like he wanted something else. Whatever it was, Pen couldn't quite say, but the intensity of his gaze and the moment got to her in its own way and she shivered.
The movement shook Anthony out of his reverie and Pen could see the common-sense flooding back into his features. They were in a precarious position, and neither one of them seemed to care. "How ridiculous of me, you'll catch a cold if we stay like this any longer." He let out, climbing carefully off of her and getting his bearings standing before reaching his hands out for her to take.
It took her a beat, but Penelope placed her hands in his and allowed him to help pull her up from where she'd been. "Thank you for your help," she added, looking at him rather sheepishly. Anthony simply gave her a nod in return, as his gaze raked along her form. "You must take this," he let out rather roughly, reaching to take his jacket off.
Pen followed his gaze with a look of confusion etched about her delicate features, and noted with a bit of horror that her dress was clinging rather unbecomingly to her body, highlighting all of her curves in what she was certain was a most unflattering way. "Oh dear God." She breathed, taking the jacket he handed her perhaps a little too roughly and putting it on.
"I-Anthony-" Pen began, words seeming to fail her when she needed them most. "I apologize,"
"What are you apologizing for?" he all but growled, dark brown eyes intent on her visage. "We fell into a pond together, Pen. Your clothing is bound to do this." He replied, pulling slightly at the fabric of her dress. Slowly, his fingers wrapped around the expanse of her wrist, bringing her body the slightest bit closer to his own. "You've no need to apologize, especially for helping me. Do you understand?"
He had dipped his head as he spoke to her, their breaths were mingling and she could see flecks of gold in his gaze. It wasn't a first, and they had certainly been closer, but the way Anthony was looking at her set something within Penelope ablaze. She felt seen? No, not seen. It was something else, and just as she was clicking the pieces together in her head, she heard her name called.
It was as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on the two of them, for they sprang apart rather quickly and guiltily.
Pen turned to see Francesca and Gregory standing beside one another, both of them seemingly hiding back giggles.
"What happened?!" Gregory asked, rushing to the edge of the pond to get a closer inspection.
"Franny here has a much better arm than she's been letting on." Anthony ground out, pressing a hand to the small of Pen's back to urge her to step out from the water.
"It was a lucky shot," Francesca replied, casting a worrying glance at Penelope. "Did you both go in searching for it?"
"Your brother got stuck, and I had to help him. In the process he nearly drowned me by falling on me." Penelope got out before Anthony could reply. Her response earned a hearty chuckle from Gregory, who was shaking his head at his brother.
Anthony cast a sideways glance in her direction, but Penelope simply ignored it. "I'm afraid since I took the brunt of the fall I'm rather out of sorts to continue playing." she managed to finish, offering the three Bridgertons a small smile. Anthony opened his mouth to say something when Francesca butted on, effectively stopping him in his tracks.
"I'll escort you back to the house, Pen. We can leave the boys to finish finding the ball." Francesca replied, passing Gregory her mallet and offering Pen her arm.
The red-head didn't even bother looking back at Anthony, who's gaze she could feel searing a hole into her back. Instead, she simply patted Gregory on the arm "I'll make sure that the next time we win." She offered, getting a warm smile from Gregory in return.
"We'll be a team again Pen, don't worry." The young boy replied.
And with that, Pen went with Francesca up to the house, listening to the Bridgerton girl fill her in on the highlights of the game that both she and Anthony had missed out on.
Chapter 7
Summary:
It's Christmas at Aubrey Hall, Penelope is invited to share in the festivities and Anthony has a proposal of sorts for his redheaded friend.
Notes:
So this is a little late, I had planned to get this out in December but HERE WE ARE. Better late than never! This is the longest chapter to date, so I hope it's okay!!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
"Penelope is going to the Bridgertons for Christmas? How is that fair?" Prudence exclaimed, glancing up at her from her rather annoying perch behind their mother. Lady Violet Bridgerton had sent Penelope a missive extending an invitation to her to come and stay with the family over Christmas holiday. And even though she had not wanted to, Penelope had offered up the letter for her mother to read over with bated breath.
Pen could think of nothing else she wanted more than to escape her family for a few weeks. They had stayed in London for the winter months, having had to sell off their country estate after her father died to pay off some of his debts. The city was not a place for one to spend Christmas. Besides, it would mean she would get to see Eloise again… And Anthony.
The memory of his gaze on her as she stood before him, dripping wet from their fall in the pond had been engrained into her brain, and had been something that had caused her many a sleepless night.
"Mama has not said yes yet, Prudence." Philippa reminded her sister, and Penelope shot her a glare. When she had passed over the letter to her mother, she had not expected both of her sisters to come barging in.
"Ladies, hush." Portia exclaimed, her features taking on a vexed look as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Though I do not know why the rest of us were not invited, it speaks well of Penelope's friendship with the family. And as you know, connections are everything." She reminded, putting the letter down in her lap and assessing Penelope closely.
A few years ago, Penelope might have shifted uncomfortably under her mother's critical gaze, but now, she simply stared back, waiting to see what she would say.
"I suppose you shall go; it would be one less mouth to feed during the holidays, and lord knows Varley could do without preparing more food." Portia stated evenly, handing Penelope back the letter.
A bubble of excitement rose within her. She would have to get gifts for the Bridgertons with her 'pin money' before leaving, but it meant she would be able to get away and enjoy a country Christmas for perhaps the last time. "Oh, thank you mama," Pen began, rising from her seat to go and reply to Violet, knowing she would also have to write a missive to Eloise as well.
"Yes yes, you may thank me by vacating the room and letting me think." She let out, causing all three of her daughters to share a glance.
Pen quickly ran up the stairs to her room and began crafting her letters, adding one more to the mix address to the Viscount himself.
One week prior
"Phillipa is engaged to Lord Finch" Eloise let out incredulously at the breakfast table, her shock apparent.
"Phillipa?" Hyacinth parroted; confusion evident in her tone. "How did Phillipa get proposed to?" Her question, despite being a rather obvious and viable question was a rude one, and Violet tutted at her daughter disapprovingly.
"Now now dearest, it is not kind to say such things. That is very lovely for Phillipa. I am sure she will make a lovely bride. Just as I am sure that Lady Featherington is beside herself with joy." The Bridgerton matriarch let out, her gaze assessing that of her children.
Anthony sat at the head of the table, newspaper in hand as he sipped slowly at his tea. He had been pretending to read the paper when Eloise had spoken aloud. In truth, even he was shocked that Phillipa was spoken for. Out of all the Featherington girls, Penelope was the only one worth noting. She was charming, kind, funny – not to mention witty. Her sisters were nothing but dull. No doubt having the ability to bore a stone to tears.
"Pen no doubt will want to perish." Eloise let out, shaking her head as she continued reading the letter.
"Surely her letter does not say that sister." Gregory asked, a slight hint of concern in his tone. Anthony had noticed his youngest brothers interest piquing whenever Penelope was mentioned, and a part of him felt bad for the lad. A part of him also understood how he felt.
"Of course, it does not, Greg." Eloise stated, laughing slightly at the very notion. "I simply mean that her mother will be speaking of nothing but weddings and chastising Prudence and Penelope for not finding a match like their sister."
Anthony shook his head at that, noting how Gregory made a face.
"Does she say when the wedding is to take place? I wonder, Anthony, if it would be kind to invite her to Aubrey Hall for Christmas. Lord knows that girl will no doubt need a respite from her family." Violet offered, the look in her eyes causing Anthony to furrow his brow for a moment.
He would be remiss to object to the fact that the idea of Penelope being close to him did not entice him. He had sent her approximately two letters since she had left Aubrey Hall the last time, and to say he missed her company would be an understatement. After all, she was turning into a fast friend.
"I suppose it would be a rather good way to keep Eloise out of all of our hair during the holidays." he replied, chuckling slightly when the sister in question tossed a half-eaten piece of toast his way. "I would suggest though, that you write the letter to Penelope, Mother. No doubt Lady Featherington would take it better coming from you." Of course, the thought had crossed his mind about writing the invitation himself, but he knew how that would look, and that was the last thing he needed – for Penelope's mother to berate her.
"Of course, darling, I shall work on it right after our meal." Violet replied happily, going back to the food before her.
Anthony, despite the slight excitement he felt within him at the idea of seeing Penelope again, could not help but think that he had been just made to be a pawn in a game his mother was playing.
Present Day. 2 Days before Christmas
Penelope had been in a carriage for four hours. Four antagonizing hours that had been filled with nothing but reading the same few sentences repeatedly, while her mind drifted to other things. Other much more complex things. Such as seeing Anthony again.
No matter what she was doing, no matter who she had spoken to. Anthony had always come back around in her mind. Just months ago, the person who took up most of the space in her mind had been Colin, yet somehow, Anthony had skirted his way in there. With his soft eyes, tender words, and a touch that elicited a feeling so deep within her it scared her.
Ever since her last visit, he was all he could think about, proving to be a brilliant distraction from that of her family. But just as she knew with Colin, Pen knew that whatever budding feelings she had for Anthony were futile. As a Viscount, he would never set his sights on a third born daughter such as herself, besides, she was Eloise's best friend. No man in their right mind would look at their little sister's best friend with anything more than a slight bit of distain if not slight friendship. Though, in truth, she believed that Anthony truly enjoyed her company, after all they had exchanged a few letters.
As soon as the carriage came to a halt in front of Aubrey Hall, Penelope looked up at it, noting all the snow that had fallen. Despite the short journey, Mayfair had barely received an ounce of snow, yet Aubrey Hall had a soft blanket atop it. To say it looked picturesque would be an understatement.
Once the door to the carriage opened, Penelope moved the warm furs she had been travelling with to the side, and vacated the carriage, her joints groaning at the sudden activity after so long of a journey. Even though she had no real attachment to the grand estate other than the fact that her dearest friend lived there, whenever Penelope arrived at Aubrey Hall she felt as if she were at home. There was just something about it that pulled her in and made her feel at peace – like she could be her true self within the confines of the estate. It was a foreign emotion, but one that Pen absolutely held on to.
Once she got up the steps, the front door was opened for her, and Penelope was seen to the sitting room. There, the Bridgertons were taking their afternoon tea, and before she could even be properly announced, Eloise was up and running towards her.
"Oh Pen!" she exclaimed, wrapping her friend in a tight hug, one that Penelope reciprocated in kind. Eloise's exclamation made it seem as if they had not been speaking in decades, when in reality they had corresponded frequently since she had returned to Mayfair.
"Hello to you as well, El." Penelope said with a giggle, noting the happy looks on all the other Bridgerton's faces. It truly did feel like a home coming.
"How was your journey? I do hate the drive from Mayfair, it is entirely too taxing." Eloise stated, taking Penelope's arm within her own.
"That is because you do not cease talking the entire time, the rest of us are just as tired as you are by the time we get here, if not even more so." Benedict piped up, a mischievous glimmer in his gaze.
"If I were not to speak the entire way, it would be entirely too dull. You know it, as does everyone else in this room." Eloise replied defiantly. Beside her, Penelope chuckled, entertained at the siblings bickering despite her being there. Penelope had ceased being a true guest years ago, and most of the Bridgerton siblings just treated her as one of their own.
"Children please, surely you do not wish to tire Penelope out even more?" Violet stated, rising from her seat to greet Penelope properly. "I am so incredibly happy your mother agreed to you sharing your holiday with us my dear." The dowager Viscountess stated, taking her hand, and squeezing it slightly.
Though Penelope loved her mother, in only a way she could, had always regarded Violet Bridgerton as a pseudo-Mother. Asking her for advice and looking to her for encouragement when the moment called for it. She had always been there, cheering her on from the sidelines and Penelope would always be grateful for the woman's affection.
"Thank you again for inviting me, I will admit I was quite nervous that mama would say no, but I was ever so glad she proved me wrong." Penelope let out, allowing herself to be pulled to the sofa by Eloise. She was still in her travelling get up, and normally good manners would dictate changing right away, but with Eloise, propriety sometimes flew out the window.
"Yes, it was Anthony's idea to have me write to your mother. It was quite astute of him." Violet informed her, going back to take her seat.
Penelope's gaze flickered to Anthony, who up until this moment, had been silent and observing the scene. Despite the fact that they had corresponded a few times since her leaving, he hadn't mentioned the fact that he had manufactured the invitation. She had simply thought Violet had done it on her own.
Before either Penelope or Anthony could say something, Gregory pipped up from his spot on the floor where he was playing chess with Hyacinth. "Did you bring us anything for Christmas, Pen?" It was an innocent enough question for a child, but the reaction he got from his mother and eldest brother had the young boy turning red.
Penelope let out a chuckle and shook her head at him. "It is quite alright, do not chastise him too much- I will neither confirm nor deny, you will simply have to wait until Christmas." Her response was cheeky, but her words had instilled a look of excitement in both Gregory and Hyacinth that slightly terrified her. She only hoped that the gifts she had gotten for them lived up to any expectations they were surely to be concocting in their heads.
"You did not have to get anyone anything, Pen." Anthony pipped up, relaxing into his wingback chair.
She set her blue-eyed gaze on him and shrugged, patting Eloise's hand beside her. "I know I did not, but as you have invited me to your home on Christmas, I felt it would be rather rude to show up empty handed."
"Your presence is present enough," Eloise stated, beside her, bumping Penelope's shoulder with her own.
Penelope cast a sidelong glance at Anthony, who's dark gaze was boring a hole into her – as if he could see through her. A surge of heat began to tingle down her spine and she shifted slightly in her spot. "Yes well, I appreciate the invitation all the same. Besides, you all are like family to me – It makes me happy to treat you all." She managed to muster, her gaze shifting to a much safer person – Eloise.
"You are too good Pen. Too good indeed." Eloise let out, abruptly standing, and dragging the petite redhead with her. "Now family I hope you did not expect to visit with Pen long, for we have much to discuss. Come, Pen."
Before she could protest, Penelope was being hauled off, away from the rest of the family towards Eloise's room.
Later that Night
After the afternoon she had had with Eloise, Pen, for all intents and purposes, should have been tired. Despite the fact that she loved her friend fiercely, Eloise could be a lot, even for someone as well versed in her antics as Penelope. However, she couldn't sleep a wink, and instead had decided to venture into the library for a novel to read to pass the time. Of course, there was the slightest fleeting inclination that she might meet Anthony again, but as she neared the large wooden doors, she could see that such a thought was moot. When she opened the doors, she was met with only darkness, and decided that instead of cozying up as she would have in the past, that she would venture back up to her room where it was warm.
After choosing a novel on plants, in hopes that it would send her into a quick slumber, Penelope began her trek back to her room. She had been placed in the family wing, in Daphne's old rooms. They were quiet and quaint, and she felt comfortable in them, despite only ever having stepped foot inside them once when she and Eloise were much younger.
As her feet padded up the stairs, Penelope let her mind wander to her own home life. To the fact that she had never truly felt as comfortable at home as she did when she was with the Bridgertons. She loved her family, no doubt about it, but it was less about truly enjoying their presence and more so about the obligation she felt to love them. Her Mama tried to love her in her own way, even her Papa had done so before he had died, but it wasn't the same. There was no warmth, no joy. It was all just… There.
She must have truly been caught in her thoughts, for she hadn't heard her name being called. Only when a hand gently reached out to touch her arm did she realize she was not alone. A squeak sounded from the back of her throat as she looked to the owner of the hand, and immediately her throat constricted.
"Anthony," she said rather breathlessly, her heart beating wildly within her chest. "You scared me," a slight flush flooded her cheeks and she took a step back from him. Both of them were not dressed in entirely proper attire, he in a light linen shirt and breaches, and she in a simple cotton nightdress with accompanying pink robe – which unfortunately for her was open.
"I am sorry, Pen. I did call your name a few times." He replied, voice hushed. They were in the corridor leading to the family wing, after all. People were sleeping.
"I apologize, I was lost in my own thoughts." She managed, offering him a small smile.
"You needn't apologize. I am the one that scared you."
Penelope looked at him then, shaking her head. "It is no matter, what are you doing up so late?"
Anthony ran a hand through his hair and nodded in her direction, "I could ask you the same, but it looks as if we share a brain at the moment – I too was in search of a novel. Sleep seems to be evading me at present." He answered, his gaze racking over her form. There was a heat in his gaze that reminded her awfully of the day at the pond, and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
"One would think you are an Owl, my lord. What with how late you are always up." Penelope teased, shaking her head slightly as he chuckled under his breath.
"If I am one, then so are you, Pen. I rather think that makes us good company." He said with a chuckle, holding his hand out towards her.
For a brief moment, Penelope, perhaps stupidly, thought that he was holding his hand out for her own, but when Anthony motioned towards the book she understood. A flush made its way into her cheeks and she passed it to him, breath hitching as his fingers grazed her own.
Anthony took the book, gaze set on hers as he turned it over in his hands. Slowly, his brown eyes fell from her, to the book in his hands and the way he was turning it over made Penelope slightly envious.
That thought alone shocked her. What was it about Anthony that made her mind wander to things that were all together improper? When she thought of Colin she had never thought once of his hands caressing her. Perhaps the thought of him pressing a kiss to her cheek had crossed her mind, but they had never strayed further than that. Anthony brought out something else within her entirely, and it both terrified and intrigued her.
"You are reading about plants?" His question was laced with humour and he looked up at her through his lashes. "Not only that, but the genetic makeup of plants? Now that will most definitely get you to sleep, Miss Featherington."
"That, good Sir, was the point. There is nothing quite as dull as reading about the makeup of a flower" She quipped, hoping and praying that the book would actually put her to sleep, though, she very much so doubted it would help now.
Anthony chuckled again under his breath and palmed through the pages a few times, only to close the book abruptly and hand it back to her. "I pray that it lulls you to sleep, if it does not work, then-"He paused, his eyes meeting hers. The intensity of his gaze hit her hard and she felt as if her heart was going to beat right of her chest. "Then I suggest counting sheep." He finished; his tone slightly disjointed. That most definitely was not what he was going to say.
Penelope shifted again, and she felt something deep within her clench. "I-I will be sure to do that My-Anthony." She let out, nodding slightly before taking a step back. She needed to go to her room before either of them said something that could be misconstrued.
"Allow me to see you to your chamber – I would hate for you to walk in to the wrong room." He stated, his voice taking on a lower timber than before. Slowly, he held out his arm for her, and for a moment, Pen hesitated.
'He's just being kind, do not put more to it than that you stupid girl.' She thought to herself, biting down lightly on her lip as she carefully balanced the candle holder on her book and took Anthony's arm.
The heat radiating off of him sent a shiver down her spine and though she wanted to say something to fill the deafening silence, words escaped her – just as they always seemed to when she was around him.
It was not long before they were before her door, and Penelope unlaced her arms from his, immediately noticing the warmth and comfort she felt leaving her. "Thank you, Anthony, – I appreciate your attentiveness." She let out, offering him a warm smile.
She'd not noticed in their brief moments of speaking that the candle had given his normally dark brown eyes an amber glow, and for a second she was transfixed. That was, until he spoke.
"It is my honour and privilege to escort you, Penelope." He stated, reaching up to move a stray curl that had made its way onto her cheek.
They stared at one another for a moment, blue eyes meeting brown. It was as if he could stare right into her soul, see every hidden depth that made her who she was. It was terrifying, and alluring, and it made parts of her alight with something that she had to akin to desire. She most definitely understood why women would blush and swoon when merely speaking with him. Anthony was a rake, and his talent was rather obvious.
A small creak had them springing apart, and both of them had the decency to at least blush a little. "I will let you get your rest now – "he stated, taking a step back. "Sleep well, Penelope."
Without waiting for her to respond, he was off and down the hall.
Penelope stood there for a moment, collecting her thoughts before heading into her room. Sleep most definitely not what was on the forefront of her mind.
There was an air of excitement the next morning, it was close enough to Christmas that Gregory and Hyacinth were on their best behaviour, which meant that breakfast, despite usually being an affair with pieces of egg and toast flying about, was a rather civil affair. Despite the fact that he was enjoying the peace, Anthony was in need of a distraction. He had spent most of the night tossing and turning in an attempt to find some sleep and get the memory of Penelope gazing back at him with something akin to desire in her blue eyes, but it had been to no avail.
He had not slept well, and the reason for his sleeplessness was seated two chairs away from him at the table, looking completely unbothered by the fact that she'd done such a thing to him.
He picked at the food on his plate, attempting to think of things to do that would take his thoughts away from her.
Almost as if Hyacinth could see the gears turning in his mind, she piped up from the opposite end of the table. "I think we should have a snowball fight after breakfast." Her suggestion was met with a rather loud assent from both Gregory and Francesca.
"Dearest, it is far too cold for that." Violet stated evenly, taking a sip of her tea.
"But Mother, I'll even wear the mittens you were so kind to purchase for me last Christmas. Please? It is no fun being cooped up in doors." Hyacinth whined. It wasn't as shrill as he was used to, but Anthony had a chuckle at it all the same.
"I for one, think it's an excellent idea," Eloise stated, sitting back rather haphazardly in her chair. "It would get them out of the house and give us all some peace and quiet."
"El," Penelope piped up, her tone a soft warning. "You can be just as loud as Greg and Hy."
Anthony laughed at that, causing a flurry of eyes to look at him. "Pen is not wrong, sister. You can be just as much trouble as the terrible two at the other end of the table there." He teased, a smirk on his features.
"I think it's a wonderful idea, Hyacinth. I for one will happily join you."
It was as if his words were all his youngest siblings had needed for permission, and within moments they were pulling him up and out of his chair, urging him to get ready.
"Please be careful! I do not need any of you coming down with a cold before Christmas" Violet said as her children seemed to disperse like flies.
Anthony stood in the cold, having changed to play with Francesca, Gregory and Hyacinth. "Now, I want a clean fight, I'll not have either of you using ice, or hitting anyone in the face knowingly, understood?" he stated, voice firm. He had become so used to being a pseudo father for the two of them that being a brother was sometimes a challenge. He often had to remind himself that he was not in fact their father, and was their elder brother – whom they looked up to.
"I would never!" Gregory piped up, only to receive a light slap on the arm from Francesca.
"Nonsense, you were going to aim for someone's head at some point, Greg, there's no need in lying."
Anthony chuckled at that, and was about to tell them to ready their positions when Hyacinth yelled Penelope's name.
He turned and saw her coming down the back steps rather gracefully. She'd changed into a rich sage green cloak, and he had to marvel at the colour on her. "Pen?" he questioned, clearing his throat slightly. "Are you joining us?"
Penelope waved slightly and nodded. "As long as you are all agreeable. Eloise wanted to write some missives, and I'm afraid I can only read so much before the words stare back at me." She admitted with a small chuckle.
"Of course, you can join, you can be on my team!" Gregory stated, walking over to her and taking her hand in his. He was a child, and the action was as innocent as it was sweet, but it still made Anthony a little jealous.
"I don't think that's exactly fair for her to be on your team, Greg." Francesca started, "Why don't we make it Pen and Ant against the three of us? That way we have a sure-fire chance of winning." Francesca suggested, bouncing her gaze between Penelope and Anthony.
"But-"Gregory began, only to stop when Penelope squeezed his hand.
"Don't worry Greg, we can build a snow man together once we're done our snowball fight, if you'd like?" Penelope offered, in an attempt to placate him.
Anthony had to hand it to the young woman, she was good with the youngest Bridgertons. For a second, he allowed his mind to wander of thoughts of how she would be with her own children. Pen had always had the patience of a saint, and considering how attentive she was with his siblings, Anthony had no doubt she'd make an outstanding mother one day.
Something within him stirred at the thought and he cleared his throat. "Very well, but do not think we will go easy on the three of you because you are so young." He stated, taking a stick he had found on the grounds and drew a line in the snow. "You three get that side, and Pen and I shall take this side. You must not cross the line or you forfeit the game. If you are hit, you are automatically out of the game – remember you are not allowed to hit anyone in the head. Understood?"
Three identical nods came from his younger siblings and Penelope joined him on their side of the line.
"Right, I shall give everyone two minutes to create their ammo before we begin." He looked down at his pocket watch and without thinking reached out to take Penelope's hand, leading her away from the line he had drawn.
"Greg has a rather good aim, Hy's is not bad either, and considering Francesca's aim in Pall Mall, I don't doubt she'll be priming to hit us. Are you sure you want to play?" He asked, brown eyes glancing down at her.
Penelope's blue-eyed gaze bore into his own and she nodded, a bright smile forming on her features. "Of course, I would not have offered to play had I not wanted to, or not known what I was getting into Anthony. You must trust that I know what I am getting myself into." She stated evenly, squeezing his hand and letting go.
Quickly, she dropped to her knees before him and began making her ammo.
Anthony let out a deep sigh and started to make his own a little way away from her. He had wanted to avoid her, and yet here she was beside him, on her knees, diligently making snowballs to play a game with he and his siblings.
His movements stilled as he watched her, noting the meticulous way she formed each and every snowball. Her gaze full of focus and determination. A sliver of pink peaked out from between her plump lips, and his breathing sputtered.
"Focus man." He said to himself, shaking his head and going about making some snowballs himself. He was determined to have a good time… And potentially beat his younger siblings.
After a minute or so, he glanced down at his watch and whistled to the other four around him. Everyone's head popped up at the same time and he chuckled.
"Everyone ready?"
It was as if he was watching them all get ready for war, and he cast a side long glance at Penelope. "Are you sure? I will be the ever-courteous host and give you one last chance to back out, Pen."
Penelope shook her head at him and tossed the snowball she had in her hand at him, much to his surprise. "Stop asking silly questions. I have said I am prepared, let's just get on with the game. One might think you are scared to be beat by some children, My Lord."
Anthony's brows furrowed at her teasing, the urge to kiss her silly suddenly overcame him and he shook his head. "Very well my lady, so be it." He paused and looked at his siblings. "Let's begin."
All of the sudden the air was filled with snowballs and shrieks of delight. Everyone was tossing snowballs, some were hitting close to their targets, whilst others were missing entirely. Gregory shot one towards Anthony that narrowly missed his head and Anthony let out a loud exclamation at the younger man.
Penelope laughed excitedly as one of her snowballs landed on Francesca's arm, and then she quickly ducked when Hyacinth attempted to hit her. With Francesca out, the game was even. Gregory and Hyacinth shared a look and they each took two snowballs in hand.
Penelope and Anthony looked at one another and quickly did the same.
The first ball came from Hyacinth who had aimed at Anthony and narrowly missed. "Ah ha!" he chuckled, tossing one at his younger sister. Mid throw, he realized that Hy had also lodged the other one at him and it had hit him squarely in the chest.
"Hyacinth!" He exclaimed, his tone taking on a false sense of hurt as he sulked off to the sidelines with Francesca. His youngest sister tossed her head back and laughed, much to her detriment, as Penelope tossed one right at her, hitting her in the leg.
Anthony stood beside Francesca but never took his eyes off Penelope who was dodging every throw that Gregory was giving her.
"She's rather good at this," Franny let out, an amused chuckle escaping her.
"She is, rather" he replied, crossing his arms over his chest.
Penelope was running out of snow balls, and part of him wanted to distract Greg, but he didn't want to seem like a sore loser.
Hyacinth joined both of them and he patted her head reassuringly. "It is alright sister, I will help you build a snow man once this game is done." He assured the young girl, who waved her hand at him.
"Hush, I want to see Pen crush Greg!"
Anthony let out a laugh at that, bringing both his sisters in for a warm hug. He had missed such bonding moments with them, often finding Francesca too busy with her studies and Greg and Hy off playing together when they weren't doing their studies. What's more, he was always so busy with the running of the estate that he never had the opportunity for downtime with them.
It warmed his heart to be able to spend some quality time with his family. They were the most important thing to him in the world.
"UGH" Gregory cried, tossing a snowball towards Penelope. For a moment, Anthony thought she was going to dodge it, but she didn't get low enough and it hit her in the cheek. He had been expecting a shriek of surprise, but instead the sound she let out made seem like she'd been hurt.
"Pen?!" He exclaimed, letting go of his sisters and rushing to her side. The petite redhead was clutching at her cheek, tears welling up in her eyes. "Oh Penelope…" He breathed, gently moving her hand so he could assess the damage.
There was a red circle in the shape of the snowball that Greg had created, with a slight cut along her cheek that was welling with a little bit of blood. Absentmindedly, he brought his thumb up to his tongue, wetting it and swiping it across her cheek. She winced slightly, but reached up to hold his wrist.
"Is it bad?" She questioned; voice small.
Anthony shook his head and moved some of her hair out of her face. "You are still as beautiful as ever, Pen." He replied, noting how the red of her cheeks deepened.
"Penelope I am so desperately sorry-"Gregory began, and Anthony whirled on the young boy.
"What did I tell you about ice in the snowballs!?" He yelled, his voice booming enough to cause Gregory to take a few steps back.
"I-"Gregory began.
Anthony was about to continue on his tirade before he felt a small hand on his chest and looked down into soft blue eyes, imploring him to stop. "Anthony, he did not mean it. Leave him be. I am fine." She assured.
"Pen you were bleeding not a second ago. Greg knew the rules before we started."
"And he apologized, I doubt the boy would intentionally toss ice my way. Let us all go inside and get changed, and have some tea."
"But what about the snowmen?" Hyacinth stated, her tone slightly sad.
Anthony felt his heart constrict slightly at the sadness in her tone, and he looked at his sisters. "We can do it tomorrow after we have opened presents and gone to church – I promise we will do it though." He assured, offering her a small smile.
Beside him, he heard Penelope assuring his younger brother that she was okay. The young boy looked at Anthony and then shook his head, running off ahead of the group to go inside.
He had fucked up, and no doubt Greg would be upset for awhile, but Anthony was determined to get his youngest brother to forgive him. It was Christmas after all.
"Greg, wait!" Hyacinth called, running after him.
Soon, it was just Pen, Franny and Anthony and he looked at the two women and shrugged. "I know, neither of you need say anything. I will make it up to him later tonight."
Francesca simply shook her head and dusted off her cloak, "You needn't explain it to us brother, you must explain it to him. I will go see that he is alright." Franny said, tossing Anthony a meaningful look.
"You should not have been so harsh on him Anthony." Penelope piped up, coming to stand beside him.
"I know, but you were hurt – that is the last thing I want." He breathed, glancing down at her.
She looked flushed thanks to the exertions of the game, and he had to admit that despite the slight cut on her cheek, that Penelope looked radiant. She was beautiful of course, but seeing the winter sun shine on her made her look practically ethereal.
"Like I said Anthony, I am fine. It is just a small cut." She assured, patting his arm.
They began walking towards the house in step with one another, the silence was not deafening, but it was not exactly comfortable either. There was too much bubbling up within him in regards to the woman beside him, he couldn't just let it be silent.
"How are you feeling? About your sister being wed." He asked, shocking himself with the question.
Penelope glanced at him; confusion etched on her features. Obviously, she had not been expecting such a question from him either. "I am happy for Phillipa, as her sister it is an exciting thing to see her being wed. Especially to a man whom she truly cares for." Pen began, "But I will admit it has now sparked mama to force her attention on Prudence and I a bit more, though she seems to think I am a lost cause."
Anthony rolled his eyes at her words. Of course, Portia Featherington was overlooking Penelope, he had heard many a story from Eloise that that was all the woman was particularly good at.
"You are not a lost cause, if anything I think you are perhaps the most sane and marriageable one out of your siblings." He stated, pursing his lips after he had said it.
Out of the corner of his eye he noticed her glance at him and blush causing his heart leapt a little.
"That is very sweet of you to say, but I fear the rest of the Ton does not believe it. You and your brothers are the only ones who seem to ask me to dance at public engagements, and I've never once been properly spoken to by a gentleman." Penelope confided, clasping her hands together as they continued walking on.
"The men of the Ton are ridiculous and impervious to what is in front of them. Speaking as one, I have seen plenty a man be humbled due to missing out on his chances with a woman." He replied, to which Penelope chuckled.
"It is not as simple as that, I-" She paused and blushed shaking her head. "I am just not what many men wish for in a wife, that is all."
The gears in his mind were going and he pursed his lips. Penelope was one of the only women whom he knew in his acquaintance that he thought truly deserved to have a husband – a loving husband that would care for her, and love her, and treat her like the goddess she was.
He stopped walking then and looked at her, truly looked at her. "That is ridiculous – you and I both know it." He stated evenly, clasping his hands behind his back. "Are you wanting to wed?"
It was Penelope's turn to stop, and she turned back to look at him, brows furrowed slightly. "I am a woman of marriageable age, Anthony. Of course. I know that I am friends with Eloise and she is very against the idea of holy matrimony, but I do not look at it the same way she does. I look at it as a chance for freedom – at a chance for a family."
There was an unspoken word there about family that Anthony could see in the depths of her gaze and he nodded knowingly.
"I could help you, if you'd like – with getting a husband."
Now she was looking at him as if he had three heads, as if he had turned into Cerberus himself right before her very eyes. "You are jesting."
"I would not jest about something as serious as this pen. You wish to be wed and have the independence a married woman is offered – I will help you. I have connections, I know who the best men are in the Ton to speak to and get to know – something I am sure your mother does not. I also know these men on a deeper level than your mother as we all share the same club. Allow me to be your champion in this Pen. I want nothing more than to see you happy."
It was true. Despite the yearning he felt for her, he knew that she was better off with a different man than him. Someone who was not as wrapped up in his own conscience, and could treat her properly. If he could see her wed and happy, that would make him happy.
Penelope studied him for a moment, almost as if she were attempting to weigh the pros and cons of his offer. What felt like hours went by before she spoke, but her words settled something within him instantaneously.
"Alright My Lord, I will accept your assistance in finding a husband."
Christmas morning came quickly, with Gregory and Hyacinth waking everyone up as soon as the sun was up. The two of them had figured that if they were to get up earlier, it meant they could go to church earlier, and come home to presents. Violet had to hand it to them, it was not exactly a bad plan, were they able to control the reverend at their church. She had corralled all of her children as much as she could, attempting to get them to behave during the service, yet even the eldest children seemed to have a bit of glee within them. The holiday was different this year from the last, and she couldn't help but think that it had something to do with a particular redhead and the affect she had on her eldest son. No one else seemed to notice it, save for perhaps Francesca and Benedict.
But Violet had noticed a shift in Anthony ever since the end of the last social season, and the only difference that had been made was with his friendship with Penelope.
The youngest Featherington girl was like another child to her, Violet had always been grateful that Penelope had been in Eloise's life, for she knew that her daughter was head strong and could vex her other siblings to no end at times. Pen slowed Eloise down, made her think, made her listen.
In ways, Penelope reminded Violet of herself as a younger girl, ever the wallflower. It was why she supposed she had such a soft spot for the young woman.
She sat in her perch on the sofa, watching her children open their gifts one by one, each of them being elated at what they had been given. Gregory in particular had been pleased by the antique chess set that Francesca had gifted him, so much so that that was practically all he spent the morning doing.
She turned her attention to where her eldest son sat, his gaze on his siblings. He looked relaxed, and very happy for once. Normally there was a scowl on his features, or a serious look that made him seem unapproachable. Instead, he looked like the young man whom she had not seen since his father died, and it made her heart clench in happiness.
The matriarch took a sip of her tea as she carefully watched Penelope walk over to her eldest son, a small gift in hand that she held out tentatively to him. Anthony took it, because of course he did, but Violet did notice that their hands had brushed and that the pair of them sported matching blushes.
Realizing she had stared too long, she looked back at her other children, noting the look on Francesca's features and she smiled. Her middle daughter, who sat beside her chuckled slightly and leaned closer towards her mother. "Do you think they both realize what is happening?"
Violet shook her head at the brunette and sighed. "No darling, I fear not, but it is our job to make them see it. It will come in time."
Notes:
So... How are we feeling? Anthony is a lost cause and I'm so excited to make him suffer.
If you guys have any feedback, please feel free to let me know! The more input the better :)
Chapter 8
Summary:
The beginning of the season is here, and Anthony's plan seems to already be working a little too well.
Notes:
Hello everyone! I sincerely apologize for the rather late update. I had a few of you asking about Daphne in the last chapter - after reviewing the timeline of season 1 - season 2, I realized that Daphne had an ultra fast pregnancy so Daphne's pregnant in this fic to adhere to basic science lol.
I also had a few of you asking about Colin! He will be coming soon, I wanted to lay some foundations down before I throw a wrench in things.
As always, please leave me any feedback you have! i hope this chapter doesn't disappoint!
All my love xx
Chapter Text
February 17, 1814
Dearest Penelope,
I have done quite an extensive amount of thinking surrounding the proposition I offered you back in December. Thoughts surrounding how it would work, how I could help, and what would be best to start with. After such lengthy consideration, I believe the best course of action would be to start with wardrobe. As the season does not start for another few months, this could give you some time to prepare and it would make you ready for the season ahead.
I have taken the liberty of writing Mdme. Delacroix personally and have enlisted her assistance. There is an account that has been set up for you by myself – funds have already been given. All you need do is attend. There is enough for you to get three gowns. I trust you and Mdm. Delacroix to choose colours that are perhaps a bit more subdued than what your mother has previously placed you in.
I hope that you do not find my actions impertinent, I only mean to begin as we mean to go on. Your happiness is of the utmost importance to me Pen, and I will not see you upset and unwed by the end of the season if marriage is what you seek.
In other, less serious news, Gregory and Hyacinth both miss you terribly and are never ending in their pursuits to get you back to Aubrey Hall. I fear you are their favourite, and you are not even a Bridgerton.
Once the family is back in London for the season, we may then begin our 'lessons'.
Yours truly,
Anthony Bridgerton
Beginning of the Season – Lady Danbury's Ball
Anthony's gaze was locked onto the glass of brandy in his hand, he had bribed a young lad working for Lady Danbury upon his arrival to keep his glass topped up. He was not exactly looking to drink to excess, but after the presentation of Eloise, and dealing with her protestations of getting dressed up and forced to come to a ball, he had needed something to ease the throbbing of his head. Never mind the voice in the back of his head that consistently nagged at him, reminding him of the promise that he had made to Penelope all those months back.
'I could help you if you'd like – with getting a husband'
The words did not haunt him as much as the image of her with candlelight flickering against her soft and delicate features did, but they were enough to cause his stomach to flip upside down.
He took a deep swig of his drink then, almost emptying it. He was determined to avoid his mother and Eloise. He had, of course, attempted in the carriage to prepare his sister the way he had Daphne, but had been meticulously shot down by the younger Bridgerton. Eloise was not going to marry, and though Anthony very much doubted such an opinion would stay in her head for long, he decided without delay that he would 'help' from the sidelines. His darling mother would have to handle this one on her own.
Besides, there was another young woman who needed his assistance this season. Not that anyone besides he and Penelope needed to know about their little arrangement.
His brown eyes scanned the room, taking in all the eligible debutants and their expecting mama's, he had already thwarted off a few of them, and he no doubt would have to fend off more before the night was over.
Out of the corner of his eye he noted his eldest sister approaching, her husband on her arm.
"Good evening sister. Hastings" He greeted, bowing to the pair of them. It was odd to him that the two of them would make such a good couple, but after seeing their friendship grow last season, there was no doubt in Anthony's mind that they were a good match – even if he had been so opposed to the idea of them at first.
"Brother, it is good to see you. Though, I dare say you could look as if you were in finer spirits." Daphne teased, her blue eyes finding their mother and Eloise standing not too far away.
"I take it the presentation did not go well?"
Beside her, Simon simply took a sip of his drink, allowing his wife to ask what she wanted. Daphne was several months into her first pregnancy, and though propriety dictated that she should be in some sort of confinement, she had wanted to be present for the first ball of the season – both for herself and for support of Eloise.
Anthony shrugged at his sister's question and took another deep sip of his drink, frowning slightly at the fact that it was gone. "No, quite the opposite, it went shockingly well. Even mother was surprised. I doubt she will be named diamond of the season, but the reception has been rather good indeed." Anthony paused then and chuckled as he watched Eloise fiddle with her dress. "Much to our dear sisters dismay."
Both Daphne and Simon chuckled at that and looked at one another. "She will be rather hopeless, but I am sure that Mama will steer her in the correct direction. Just please make sure you do not to act as you did with me last season." Daphne stated, offering her brother a small smile.
He did not need reminding that he almost had his sister married off to Nigel Berbrooke of all people, that was another reason as to why he was taking a more subdued approach to assisting Eloise. "Yes, well, our dear mother has it in hand. I am just here as decoration." He let out, his gaze fanning across the ballroom.
His brown eyes stopped when he spotted the familiar hue of red that had haunted his dreams, this time though, it was accompanied with other shades of red.
The Featheringtons had arrived.
Anthony felt his heartbeat speed up slightly and he cleared his throat attempting to turn his full attention to Daphne and Simon. Simon caught his gaze and shot his brow up, questioning him.
'Not now' his gaze warned, he did not have the time, nor the effort to explain to Hastings what was going on.
Daphne on the other hand must have missed whatever Simon had seen entirely, before he could even speak once more, she was tearing herself away from her husband's grasp and excusing herself before heading over to where his mother and Eloise stood. No doubt she was going to intervene with whatever fight Eloise was putting up.
"Do I want to know?" Simon asked, a small smirk splaying on his lips as his own gaze scanned the crowd.
Anthony made sure to look everywhere but at Penelope, the last thing he wanted was for Simon to catch on. "Whatever do you mean?" Anthony questioned, holding his glass out to be swapped as the lad he had bribed strode over.
To his right, Simon let out a deep chuckle. "Just be careful, Bridgerton. Last thing this family needs is another scandal this season." He stated, stalking off after his wife.
Anthony let out a deep sigh and downed his glass in one go.
Slowly, he made his way through the crowd, offering tight lipped yet polite smiles to those he passed. It was odd really, the closer he got to Pen, the less anxious he felt. He also noticed the wide berth everyone seemed to give her, as if she were some sort of leaper. She was no such thing – she was Pen.
"Good evening, Miss Featherington," He greeted, internally flinching at the fact that he had used her last name. Over the course of their friendship, he had gotten increasingly used to calling her Penelope, or even Pen when the situation permitted. However, as they were in public, with the very watchful eyes of the Ton about them, such liberties were not to be permitted. He cared for her reputation far more than to allow anyone to conceive any ill willed thoughts about her, or their friendship.
Blue eyes settled on him and for the briefest of moments he felt his heart stutter. "Hello Lord Bridgerton," She replied, offering him a slight curtsey. His brown eyed gaze travelled along her short stature for a brief moment, noting the change of colour on her. She was not in her usual yellow or orange, and the fit of the dress was much more becoming on her figure than dresses he had seen dawned on her in the past. Though Penelope had written that she had followed his instructions, it was pleasant to see the fruit of his labour. She looked rather becoming in the light green that adorned her curvaceous form.
She was looking up at him through her lashes and though his heart was still clenching and unclenching within his chest, Anthony tossed her a small smirk. How odd, to have known someone for so long but to never truly have seen them. "Not even here ten minutes and you're already left to your own devices, hmm? What, did the colour of your dress ward your family off?" He queried, bringing his hands behind his back as he assessed the rest of the room.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Penelope stand up straighter and chuckle slightly to herself. "Most certainly not, though I will confess my Mama was not pleased about the green. She said it was a dreadfully somber colour." Penelope paused, rolling her eyes rather obviously. "Alas, Mama is determined to help Prudence find a match this season, but they spotted Phillipa and went to say hello before beginning their hunt." She mused; nose upturned as she attempted to scan the room for her family. "Not that I see their hunt going any better than it went last year." Penelope finished with a chuckle, looking down to hide the smirk that splayed on her lips.
Anthony pursed his lips, attempting to quell the laugh that was threatening to escape him. "I pity the poor soul they set their eyes upon," Anthony began, turning his gaze back to the woman beside him. "Besides, their loss of your company is my gain. It means I do not have to share your attention." Though he said it in jest, it was a legitimate statement. It was something that he always was doing with Pen, sharing her attention. Someone else was always calling her or asking her to look at or do something. Selfishly, he was pleased that her mother and sister had left her to her own devices.
"And here I thought the very reason you made your way over here was to share my attention, My lord." She questioned; brow cocked. "Or are you reneging your vow?"
Anthony gave her a pointed look, his own brow arched. "I would never, my lady. I am a gentleman and a man of honour; my word is my bond." He stated evenly, allowing his gaze to rake over her.
Beside him, he could see Penelope's cheeks flush and it spurred him on slightly. "You are dear to both my family and myself, Pen. If you are wanting a husband and it would make you happy – than I am more than willing to oblige and offer my assistance." He paused for a moment, noting the way her eyes fluttered slightly as she took in his words. His breath caught in his throat slightly, and he shook it away as best as he could.
"Before I introduce you to what decent men are left within the Ton, I must understand what it is you want out of a partner though, it would help deduce the options."
The petite women beside him shifted and she turned to face him, almost as if the topic were too scandalous for other people to potentially hear. "I have always wanted a kind husband, someone with whom I can share a space and not feel as if I am being corralled. Preferably a husband who will allow me my freedom to find my purpose." She replied, her voice slightly breathy, as if she were explaining a pleasant dream.
Anthony watched her as she thought, and noticed that whilst in deep thought, she would bite down ever so slightly on her plump bottom lip. What she was explaining was a good husband, but practically none of the men of the Ton would fit such standards, he was sure of it. None except three and even then, he could not count at least two of them as they were his own brothers. "It sounds as if perhaps an older husband may be best for you – but certainly not too old." Anthony shuddered at the thought of someone that could be as old as her father touching her.
No, Penelope deserved someone good and young, that would fulfill her wishes and desires.
"Certainly not," she began, shaking her head quickly. "I would also like to have children, and I would not like – "Penelope paused then, her blue eyes meeting his brown ones once more. For a split second, Anthony wondered if her statement was going to reflect that of where his mind had gone; but quickly she continued. "What I mean to say, is that I would enjoy a family, and having a husband who is young and able bodied enough to play with our children and be a good father is important to me." She hung her head slightly and began to pick at something in her dress. "My father never played with us as children, nor did my mother really. I want my children to have a better upbringing than I did."
Anthony saw and heard the vulnerability in her statement. He had been wanting to tease her, but found that he could not, not with such a confession. His hand itched to reach out to her, to take her hand in his own and assure her that her words were safe with him. But he could not, not in front of everyone.
"You have exceptionally good reasoning Pen; I can tell that you have thought long and hard about this." He replied, clasping his hands together to stave off the temptation to take her hand within his.
A rose-coloured flush made its way into her cheeks, and she nodded slightly, "I read quite often, and I will admit finding a match is all that mama has been speaking of since any of us girls became of age." Penelope let out, shrugging slightly. "I understand that what I may wish for might seem out of what I may deserve, but I believe one must hold oneself in high esteem – especially in such terms as finding a potential match."
Anthony shook his head slightly at her, amazed by both the wisdom that she imparted, and the sheer stupidity of such a notion that she did not deserve a good and just partner in life. He wanted to speak freely, so that she understood that what he meant was in earnest and not just for show, though part of him doubted very much that Penelope would even consider such a notion. He noted the glances that were being cast their way, and it made him scowl slightly. Cressida Cowper was standing with Oliphant and Fife, and the three of them were sporting looks that were so utterly judgemental it made Anthony's blood begin to boil.
As if an epiphany had hit him, the change of music flooded his ears and without much thought held his hand out to her. A dance would offer them the privacy that they required for such a conversation without the prying eyes of the judgemental busybodies of the Ton.
"Dance with me."
Penelope's gaze locked to his own, a flash of confusion evident in her blue-eyed gaze. Despite the confusion however, her gloved hand met with his without any audible question.
With a small nod in her direction, Anthony led them both to the dance floor, not ignorant of the eyes on them as they took their places.
"I apologize for the abrupt invitation, but I thought that this would afford us more privacy." He began, leading the two of them in their dance. Instinctively, Anthony's hand flexed against Penelope's back and pulled her in a little closer. He took a moment to bask in the pleasure that came with holding Penelope close. She was soft, and supple, and the heat radiating from her body made something stir inside him that was all together too untoward.
With her closer, he could whisper in her ear without it looking too scandalous. "I wanted to say, without being interrupted or rudely listened to… that you deserve all the goodness that the world has to offer, Penelope Featherington and if you want a kind, just and patient husband I vow to you that I will do everything in my power to assist you."
There was an intensity to his words that even he had not been expecting, and so when Pen's head practically snapped off her shoulders, he could not fully blame her. Anthony stifled a chuckle, but instead allowed a smirk to grace his features. "You needn't act so surprised, Pen."
If it had of been ladylike to scoff, Anthony was sure she would have. Instead, Pen elected to roll her eyes at him. "I'm not quite sure my Lord, would it not surprise you were the roles reversed?" She quipped.
A deep chuckle escaped him, and he regarded her statement for a beat. "Perhaps, but I am not any ordinary Viscount, and you are not any ordinary lady. You are Pen and I am Anthony."
Penelope deadpanned at him, as if his statement were so obvious that it was almost insulting. "I understand that Anthony, but you have a sister who is out, you should be focusing on assisting her as you no doubt assisted Daphne during her season, why focus on helping me?"
There was an almost pleading look to her gaze, and Anthony wanted to push away all negative thoughts Penelope had regarding his offer. She was a part of his family, and she was someone he cared about. Seeing her happy meant the world to him, especially after having gotten closer to her through the most recent months. "Because I care about your well-being and happiness. My mother can assist Eloise, and what is more is that you want a husband. Eloise does not." He stated, biting on his bottom lip as they continued their dance. "Moreover, you do not have a man in your life to steer you in the correct direction, and your mother seems to be more occupied by getting your remaining sister married off and is neglecting you and your needs."
He had heard throughout the years from both his mother and Eloise that Penelope was always seemingly left behind. Getting to know Penelope on a more intimate level had shown him that his mother and sister had not been wrong, and unfortunately, had glazed over how terribly bad it was. Penelope had not come right out and stated that her home life was horrible, but he could see how certain things that were said or done affected her. If he could assist her in getting out of such a horrible environment, he would do so.
Penelope simply stared at him; her blue eyes boring into him as if she were assessing how much truth was in his statement. When her gaze fell to their feet, he knew that he had convinced her.
"While I am grateful, I do not want you to feel as if -"
Before she could finish her sentence, Anthony was shaking his head and tutting her. "Do not insult either of us by finishing that sentence, Penelope." He stated evenly, pulling away from her as the dance ended. Immediately missing the warmth she provided. However, his rational mind decided not to dwell on it. Instead, Anthony dipped into a deep bow, his gaze never leaving the red head as she offered him a matching curtsey.
"You could not possibly know what it was I was I was going to say," Penelope chided, a small, secret smile that she seemed to reserve for only him splaying on her lips.
"I know you better than you may wish to think, Pen." He let out as he righted himself. Once standing upright once more, Anthony held his arm out for Penelope to take, "Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to the refreshment table?"
Penelope glanced around and must have seen what he did – that there were decidedly more eyes on them than there had been when the dance first started. They were garnering attention, and while it did not exactly sit right with her, she knew that that was the whole point of their interaction – to put more attention on her to hopefully get her wed before the season was out. Though, the more she got to know Anthony, the more the thought of being married off did something to her that she was not completely comfortable with.
Penelope's petite gloved hand made a home in the crook of his elbow and Anthony offered a smile to a few onlookers as they headed towards the refreshment table. "I will admit, I doubt I will have to do much in terms of assisting you, save perhaps for offering some advice here and there… You already have a few admirers." He stated lowly, so just Penelope would hear. No doubt it would look to others as if he were telling her a great secret, but it allowed him a moment to confirm the glances from Lord Fife and Lord Campbell.
Beside him, Penelope flushed a deep colour, and she looked up at him, a mixture between excitement and nervousness brewing in her gaze. "You are very sweet My Lord, but that does not change the fact that you are the only man to give me any attention this evening." Her voice was low as she replied, and though her words were correct and should anger him, it spurred something else on within him. Something that made his skin flame, and a heat begin to burn within his belly.
"Yes well, the night is still young, that may change." He mused, praying that his companion missed the dip in the timbre of his voice. "Even if it does not, I was wondering if you would accompany the family and I to Hyde Park in two days' time. That way we may speak in relative privacy, and it will allow me some time to create a list of eligible suitors for you."
Even offering up to create a list, Anthony knew it would be a short one. None of the men of the Ton truly deserved someone as good as Penelope, she was far too perfect and kind for any of the men with whom he had the displeasure of knowing. However, he was a man of his word and though the list would be short, there would be a list ready for her indeed.
"I would be delighted." Pen began, almost bashfully. "I hope you realize how much I appreciate you and your assistance, Anthony." Penelope finished, squeezing his arm slightly. The small but firm action meant the world to him. Not to mention the fact that she had called him by his Christian name in public. Though her voice was only low enough for him to hear, it was an affirmation that she enjoyed being in his company. A year ago, he would not have even conceived such a possible notion.
A warm look made it's way onto his features and he shook his head slightly. "One day, you will realize that this is how friends assist one another." He mused, a small smirk forming on his lips.
Before he could say anything more however, the pair were interrupted rather awkwardly by someone clearing their throat. Both pairs of eyes (which had previously been locked onto one another) turned to see a lone Lord Campbell standing before them. Immediately Anthony stiffened, his shoulders and chest rising as if on the defense. Unfortunately, if Campbell wished to take Penelope away, Anthony would have no rhyme nor reason to force her to decline.
"Good evening, Lord Bridgerton, Miss Featherington." The other gentleman greeted.
"Campbell, enjoying the evening?" Anthony stated, hoping that Penelope didn't mind if he lead the conversation.
"Indeed, Sir. Though, I will admit the night has become much better since seeing Miss Featherington here." Campbell stated, the other gentleman's gaze taking over Penelope's form.
Were Anthony in any true right he would have snapped at the man, but he was not. Besides, it was what she wanted was it not? The attention of men? He had to remind himself of such things.
"O-oh, well I am glad to have made your evening slightly better." Penelope replied, and Anthony saw the moment she fell into Campbells proverbial trap.
"What say you to making it a night to remember by accepting my hand for the next dance?" Anthony had to hand it to the other gentleman, he was calm, cool and rather charming. As soon as the offer had left his lips, Penelope extracted her arm from around Anthony's and she held out her wrist for Campbell to write his name on her dance card.
"I would be delighted my Lord. You do not mind at all, do you Lord Bridgerton?" Penelope asked, blue eyes turning to him. No doubt what Anthony saw was a mix of a few emotions, no doubt excitement, anxiety and fear, but whatever Pen was feeling she hid it rather well.
Despite the fact that he wanted desperately to say no, to take her hand and away from Campbell, Anthony shook his head and chuckled. "By all means Miss Featherington, go and enjoy yourself."
Without much hesitation, Campbell nodded at Anthony and led Penelope back onto the dance floor. Anthony, much to his dismay, couldn't even hide the scowl that had made its way onto his features.
When he had offered to assist Penelope, he had not expected for such a slight change as the colour of her dress to alter reality quite so much.
With a huff, he turned on his heel to go find a drink and perhaps leave, but was met with Eloise standing directly behind him. "What in the devil?!" He stated as he crashed slightly into her.
"Will you keep your voice down!? Mother will no doubt see me now since you've gone and drawn some attention. I had just managed to get away from her and Daphne and you've ruined it." Eloise chastised, smoothing down the dress their Mama had managed to persuade her into wearing.
"Why on earth are you hiding now?" Anthony questioned, perhaps rather foolishly. Why wouldn't Eloise be hiding?
Eloise on her part, only looked semi-annoyed with his flippancy and waved her hand. "We are at a ball brother, and in case you missed it I have been pushed into the marriage mart like a sow at auction. Mama has at least ten men she wishes to introduce me to this evening. I have already met 2, both of which are of little consequence."
Anthony had to stifle a laugh. Though the back of his mind was still focused on Penelope, Eloise was proving as a rather good distraction.
"You are not on the mart like a sow. Perhaps a lamb, but certainly not a sow." Anthony began. "What's more is that you know Mama only wants you happy – just as she wants us all to be."
Eloise rolled her eyes at him then and let out a rather undignified huff. "You are absolutely no help. Where is Penelope? I thought I saw the pair of you dancing."
With a motion towards the dancefloor behind him, Anthony moved so that his younger sister could see her best friend being led in a quadrille by Lord Campbell. They made a fine dancing pair, though Campbell seemed to be more focused on the steps than on his partner.
"Is she dancing with Lord Campbell?" Eloise exclaimed; shock evident on her features.
"Indeed," Anthony stated, his voice taking on a slightly annoyed tone as he watched the pair.
"How very odd…" The brunette trailed off.
Before Anthony could think to ask her why, he turned and noticed that she had left him all alone once more.
Despite his better efforts, Anthony's brown eyed gaze settled back on Penelope and Lord Campbell, who was returning her back to the 'safety' of her Mama. There was a queer sort of jealousy bubbling within him as he watched Penelope interact with the other man, and it was then that he decided he was thoroughly in trouble.
His true assistance hadn't even begun and already he was finding it difficult to see her with other men.
Anthony needed to get Penelope out of his system before his jealousy ruined any true chance she would have to find a match.
Chapter 9
Summary:
Pen joins the Bridgerton clan and Anthony is slowly becoming more unhinged.
Notes:
I just wanted to take the time to give thanks to Petiteink on Discord for all the help that you gave me on this chapter, and for being my cheerleader! Oh and to IrishRose - Thank you both for being the wee devils on my shoulder!
As always, let me know what you think! I apologize in advance for any spelling/grammar mistakes.
Chapter Text
Anthony took a deep sip of the lemonade his mother had forced their staff to lug along to Hyde Park. The sun was high, and the weather was unseasonably warm, though he was hidden under the shade of his family's tent, Anthony could feel the heat like a thick blanket. Suddenly, he regretted asking poor Penelope to join his family. She was seated on the opposite side of the tent listening to Eloise and Francesca prattle away about something that he couldn't quite hear. Ever since Lady Danbury's ball, Anthony had been attempting to maneuver a plan befitting Penelope and her goals. He had even created a small list of eligible gentlemen. With only 4 names on it, it would not leave Penelope many odds, but as he had made the list, he vowed to not allow anyone less than utterly good to be thought of so much as an option for Penelope.
She deserved the world. More, if he dared to reckon.
"Brother, if you stare any longer you will burn a hole right through her." Benedict whispered, causing Anthony's head to whirl.
A look of confusion etched itself across his features before realization dawned on him and a scoff escaped his throat. "Do not be ridiculous." Anthony retorted, taking another sip of his drink as he watched groups of other Ton members pass by their tent.
"Ridiculous I may be, but wrong I certainly am not." Benedict teased, patting Anthony on the shoulder as he moved to sit beside him. The chair beneath the other gentleman creaked and it took everything within Anthony not to push his younger brother. At home when they were younger it may have been permissible, but given his age and their public position, he resisted the urge.
"You live in a constant state of wrong, Benedict. I do not see why this time would be a different case." Anthony stated pointedly, placing his glass on the table between the two of them.
Beside him, Benedict smirked, his younger brother avoiding his gaze watching their youngest siblings play marbles in the grass. "So, is that why you have not allowed your gaze to leave Miss Featherington since we arrived? Or are you to tell me that you've suddenly come down with an allergy to offensive dress patterns?"
The smirk on Benedicts face made Anthony scowl, but he chose not to acknowledge what his younger brother had said. "You know, the more you speak, the more I miss Colin." Anthony let out, snatching a macron off the plate of provisions he had made for himself shortly after their arrival.
Benedict let out a laugh, "You wound me brother, am I not entertaining?" Ben retorted; hand clasped to his chest in an act of faux pain. "Do not bother to answer that. Besides, if his letter was any indication, Colin will be home soon, and we shall go back to having to fight one another for food at the dinner table."
Anthony let out a snort at that. Though Colin was a nuisance at times, what with almost marrying a woman that was carrying another man's child, he was still his brother. Anthony wouldn't fully admit it to his face, but he missed his cheerful and mischievous demeanor when he was gone. Colin being back though would create its own issues. Not in terms of the household, however. No, his brother's presence would no doubt cause whatever friendship he had developed with Penelope to quickly dissolve. Anthony had been there at his sister's end of the season ball; he had seen the downcast look on her features when Colin had stated he would be leaving. It was no secret to those in the ton, or even his own family (save for perhaps Colin), that Penelope had feelings for the other man.
"Right," Benedict let out, getting up from his perch. "Shall we go and attempt to find Eloise a husband, Mama?" His statement had the effect of jovialness, but it put an abrupt stop to all conversation being held in the tent.
"Benedict." Eloise managed to get out, a look of shock and slight agitation flooding her features. "I thought you were on my side?"
Francesca let out a chuckle at the statement, and glanced at Penelope, who simply seemed to shake her head at the antics her best friend was displaying.
"Someone in this tent has to make an active attempt at getting you wed, we'd be all the better for it." Benedict walked over to Eloise and pulled her out of where she sat. "Come sister, we shall go promenade and see if we can find someone for you to debate politics over."
Anthony watched as Eloise weighed her options. With all eyes on her, especially the eager gaze of their mama, it made it difficult for Eloise to deny Benedict. "Very well, but Penelope shall come with us. I will need someone to stop me from committing fratricide"
"Eloise Bridgerton!" Violet exclaimed, causing a few stray giggles to escape her remaining children.
Almost as if she could see where the conversation was headed, Penelope interjected, voice as calm and serene as required around such a rowdy bunch. "Do not worry Lady Bridgerton, I will keep them from doing anything that will cause a scene."
Anthony went to open his mouth, hoping to intercede before his mother could reply. However, before he could even form the words, Francesca was speaking. "Anthony," his younger sister began, her gaze flickering over to him. "Why don't you accompany them? Penelope is brilliant, but you have the muscle to keep Eloise at bay."
Anthony tossed his sister a pointed look. Francesca possessed many a quality, subtlety didn't seem to be one of them. Both she and his mother seemed to be as subtle as oxen. Were it not for the fact that he already enjoyed Penelope's company, he would have rolled his eyes.
"I will pretend I did not hear that," Eloise let out, all but dragging Benedict out of the tent and towards the walking path.
Without even looking at her, Anthony could feel Penelope's attention turn to him, and he glanced her way, warming slightly when she spoke. "Between the two of us, I believe we should have the both of them under a semblance of control."
Anthony chuckled at that. Pen had a way of being quick and witty when she was around those that she was comfortable with, and it was always a reminder of how at least she found herself with his family when she let out such quips.
"I do hope you are right, Pen." Anthony replied with a small smile, closing the distance between the two of them so she could loop her arm through his. It was not long before he was falling easily in step with the shorter woman on his arm.
Glancing at his siblings just slightly ahead of them, Anthony secretly hoped that they were distracted enough to allow him some privacy with Penelope so they could converse about what her presence truly meant. Though, given the fact that Eloise and Benedict seemed to have their heads dipped conspiratorially told him he might not have long.
"I was going to attempt to talk about something mundane like the weather, or thank you for coming, but I thought better of it. I have kept you in suspense too long, and it would not be fair of me to continue to do so." Anthony started, stealing a glance at the red-head beside him. Penelope's full attention was on him, not even the sound of a dog barking a yard away got her head to turn. She was always brilliant about that – showing him her full attention. Anthony bristled slightly and let out a moderately shaky breath.
"I did tell you that the list of gentlemen would not be quite so long, but I have kept my word and compiled a list nonetheless. I hope that it will prove pleasing to you." The list had been burning a hole in his pocket all morning, reminding him that one day soon Penelope would not be free to walk with him, and instead would be on another mans arm entirely.
Carefully, he reached into his jacket pocket and passed Penelope the folded piece of paper. He watched with baited breath as she carefully unfolded it with one hand and took a look at the list. "You've put Lord Campbell on here." She let out, brow arching slightly as she looked back up at him.
A twinge of jealousy rattled through him as he thought of the last time, he had seen Lord Campbell with Penelope. "I did, yes. The man is obviously interested if he danced with you, and I have had no reports of him having a dubious past. I have spoken to handful of times at Whites, even Benedict says the man is of good stature. He is perhaps one of the better ones on the list – but I will leave it to your discretion, Pen"
"Thank you Anthony, truly." Penelope replied, placing a hand on his arm in reassurance. "I know that it is perhaps in bad taste to say it, but I do not know where I would be without you and your family."
The vulnerability in her tone made him want to stop walking all together, but due to the fact that half the Ton surrounded them, such a motion would raise brows and questions. "You do not need to thank me, Penelope. You are very dear to me and I will do whatever I can to make you happy."
"It is exactly for that reason that I need to thank you." Her blue eyes were taking him in completely, almost as if she could see into the depths of his very soul. "You are no stranger to my family; you know how my mother is at times." Penelope paused then, almost as if she were considering her next words and whether they were required. "It is nice to feel cared for. I know that Eloise is always attempting to drag me along, but your family makes me feel like I belong and I cherish that. So, your kindness is most definitely worthy of thanking."
Anthony flexed his hand, all of his instincts screamed at him to stop walking and caress her cheek, to let her know just how deeply he truly cared for her. Instead, all he could do was place his hand over hers that lay on his arm and squeeze it slightly. "Believe me when I say you deserve the world." Anthony let out, swallowing hard. Penelope deserved more than the world. If it were in his power, he would harness the moon and stars for her, but being a mere mortal made such a feat merely impossible.
For the briefest of moments, Penelope's gaze flickered to his lips and within an instant Anthony was grateful for their location. Were they anywhere else, there would be no telling what he would do. Penelope had an air of innocence about her, one that while he often felt obligated to protect. However, there were times, that no matter how innocent she was, she did something completely beguiling that played to his baser urges. The kind of urges that told him to pull her behind a tree and drop to his knees to worship her. To brand her as his own.
"I-"Penelope began, a slight flush adorning her features. "H-how would I go about speaking to these gentlemen? You saw how I was with Lord Campbell." Her deflection was noted, but ultimately, he was grateful for the change of topic, his mind had ventured down avenues too lewd to be proper.
"My dearest Pen," Anthony said with a chuckle, turning his attention away from her for a moment. "You have no issue conversing with myself or my brothers. All you need do is add a little something more to it, that is all. Men are rather simple creatures; you simply need to appeal to their instincts as men." Suddenly, Anthony wondered if he was in over his head.
Beside him, Penelope's brows were furrowed. "I have heard stories of men and their instincts… I would hope you do not mean- "
"Most definitely not, Penelope." Anthony interrupted quickly. A slight flush made its way into his cheeks as he attempted to find the words to explain to convey his meaning. "I simply mean that if you are flirtatious, a man is more likely to be favorable towards you. And truly, it does not take much to be flirtatious. A hand on a gentleman's arm, or a timid glance – that is a very good start I would say."
The idea of Penelope doing such things with another man made his stomach turn. "Do you understand me?"
Penelope nodded slowly, her bottom lip between her teeth. "Your advice has much more semblance of thinking than my mama's advice to Prudence and Phillipa… it was slightly different, but then again you are a man."
"Dear God, do I even want to know what your mother told your sisters?" Anthony let out with a chuckle. Knowing Portia Featherington, it was something absolutely idiotic as using a feather in ones hair in some regard.
A giggle sounded from Penelope and she shook her head. "It is not all that horrible, but it is quite silly really. Mama suggested that a fan be used close to ones… well – it is for attention never the less, and perhaps not the best attention."
Immediately, Anthony understood what Penelope meant, and despite his better judgement allowed his brown eyes to fall to her bosom. From his angle he had quite the view, and no doubt if Penelope were to ever do such a thing to him it would render him absolutely useless for a few moments. Just looking at her breasts was enough to make him salivate, and he quickly cleared his throat. "I say this with the utmost respect to you Penelope, but your mother does not know what she is speaking of." He stated, running a hand through his hair.
Suddenly he was arm, and very much so in need of a drink.
"Do not worry Anthony, I will heed your advice and not use a fan around anyone." She stated with a chuckle, patting his arm reassuringly. They walked in companionable silence for a few moments before Penelope stopped in her tracks.
Anthony glanced at her, brow raised in question. "Are you quite well, Pen?" he asked, brown eyes assessing her person.
"I am well, I was just thinking that we could sit for a moment. Eloise and Benedict are tied up in conversation with Cressida Cowper, and I am not particularly thrilled at the notion of being in her line of sight." Penelope mused, lips pursed slightly.
Turning his attention to where his siblings stood, he could see that Eloise was completely disinterested, and that Benedict was all but a statue. No doubt the both of them were uncomfortable and undeniably out of their element. The kind thing to do would be to rescue them, but if Penelope wanted to rest, then rest they would.
Carefully, Anthony led them off the path and towards a bench that faced a small pond, and motioned for Penelope to take a seat. "At least from here we can keep an eye on them should Eloise let her temper get the better of her." He stated, acutely aware of the fact that his sister could be a loose cannon.
Penelope all but beamed up at him before patting the space beside her. "Please come join me, I feel rather odd looking up at you from this position." She mused.
For a fleeting second Anthony wanted to quip back about Penelope and certain positions in which she could look up at him but bit down on his tongue. Something about the petite red-head had him behaving like a green boy who'd never been around a woman before. It was unnerving.
"I should very much enjoy that Penelope, but I do wager people would begin to talk. You and I may be walking in public, but we are still very much alone." He mused, placing his hands behind his back.
A laugh escaped her then, and she quickly covered her mouth. "I apologize. I only mean that no one will talk, I assure you. You are the Viscount Bridgerton, you would not seriously court me."
Her words, despite the ridiculous and harsh truth that rang with them, made an inherent sense of anger rise within him. With a deep breath, Anthony took a calculated step closer to Penelope, bringing his hand to rest underneath her chin.
'Such soft skin' he thought to himself, biting down slightly on his bottom lip.
"Penelope…." He began, careful to lower his voice so only she could hear. "I do not want to hear such a thing come from your pretty little lips again, do you understand me?" His tone was stern, but there was not a malicious note to what he said.
"Any man would be lucky to court you, myself included. And what is more, I was not speaking of rumours of us courting." He let out, allowing his thumb to caress her bottom lip. Anthony could see the rise and fall of her chest picking up, and he damned himself for letting them stop in such an open spot. "I simply meant that you are a beautiful young woman, and I have a reputation as a rake. We are very much alone and though in public, a manner of things could be done, let alone said."
Penelope blinked slowly up at him, her perfectly plump lips slightly parted. Though he should have felt guilty for the way he had spoken, the flush on her cheeks was enough to tell him that he shouldn't. "Oh."
"Oh indeed." He replied with a chuckle, dropping his hand and casting a quick glance around. Luckily, Cressida Cowper and her mother were still engaged with Benedict and Eloise, and everyone else seemed to be enthralled by something going on in the middle of the park.
"My L-Anthony," Penelope began, her voice soft and unsure. "W-what sort of things could be said or done?"
'Dear God, this woman will be the end of me' he thought to himself, attempting to take a deep breath as her words had all but knocked the air out of him.
"Penelope…." His voice had dropped in timber and he shifted slightly as he felt a familiar stirring in his breeches. How could such an innocent question affect him so? "My darling girl, you know not what you ask." As much as he yearned to tell her of all the naughty and exceedingly dirty things he would like to do with her (in both public and private), Penelope was born a lady, and she deserved much better than to be treated as a common whore.
"I am a gentleman, and I have already overstepped with my behavior today." His breathing was heavy and his imagination was running rampant with the potential responses she would have to knowing what his fantasies entailed. "No matter how tempting you are to give in to, I need to refrain for both of our sakes."
The flush on Penelope's cheeks deepened and she nodded, dropping her gaze. The lack of eye contact allowed Anthony to feel as if he could breathe again, and he took a step back, raking a hand through his hair. "You are less of a rake than Lady Whistledown gives you credit for." Penelope quipped, standing rather abruptly.
Anthony let out a chortle and shook his head at her. "You say that as if it was a bad thing."
Penelope eyed him for a moment, her blue eyes raking up his figure the way he no doubt had done numerous times before. "In this particular instance, perhaps it is."
Chapter 10
Summary:
It's time for the Trowbridge ball, can Anthony stand the heat?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
"I do not want to hear such a thing come from your pretty little lips again, do you understand me?"
Those words, much like the day that Penelope had spent with the Bridgerton's in Hyde Park had been on repeat in her mind. Anthony, no matter how much she tried, had taken the spot of Colin in her thoughts and had all but consumed her. No matter how often she attempted to curb her thoughts of him during the day, it was at night when he would haunt her. As if he could sense her trying to push him out of her mind. He would appear in her dreams, sometimes innocently enough that she would wake up smiling and giggling to herself... Sometimes though, in her dreams Anthony made her feel things that left her wanting more. More of what Penelope could not pinpoint, but what she did know, was that she needed to rid herself of Viscount Bridgerton as soon as humanly possible.
She needed to get married and get away from him so that she did not end up like a few of the girls she had written about in her Whistledown column.
"Penelope!" Portia's shrill voice broke her out of her reverie, and she glanced at her mother, noting the judgmental smirks that adorned both her sisters' faces.
"Yes mama?"
Her mother let out an exasperated sigh and bristled as the carriage jostled to and fro. The four Featherington women were on their way to the Trowbridge ball in hopes that Prudence would secure a match and Portia would only be left with Penelope. "Really Penelope, it is no wonder you do not have any prospects, you are always woolgathering and laying about in your imagination that you do not pay any attention to what is going on around you. You cannot expect to find a husband if you are going to continue thus."
Such words had been thrown at her since she had turned about ten-and-five. Penelope had always had a penchant for books, but it was not a seemly thing for a young lady to partake in. Instead, Portia had attempted to brow-beat her with embroidery or the pianoforte – something much more respectable for the marriage mart. After all, that was all she and her sisters were good for – for securing a match.
While part of her had always resented the idea that she was meant as nothing more than a cow to be dressed up for auction, the logical side of her mind could see where her dear, exasperated mama was coming from.
"I do not know mama, Viscount Bridgerton seems to be showing Penelope some attention, though whatever for I could not tell you." Prudence all but sneered from across the carriage.
"She is his sisters best friend Prudence, no doubt the man only sees her like a sister. Do not put any ideas in to her head, she is only getting over the lovesick days when she was enamored with the younger Mr. Bridgerton." Portia chided, bristling in her seat.
Penelope wanted the floor of the carriage to open up and consume her. To save her from the insanity that was her family. Yes, she had held a torch for Colin Bridgerton for some time, but she had never admitted as much to her family. Obviously, there were some things she was better at hiding than others.
Though, despite the fact that her mama was no doubt right about Anthony's opinion of her, Penelope could not shake the feeling she got whenever his hand would touch her, or when he would set his deep brown gaze upon her.
"You needn't worry mama; I do not have any ideas where the Bridgerton gentlemen are concerned." Penelope pipped up, smoothing the light blue fabric of her dress. She had gone against her mother's wishes and chosen one of the gowns that Anthony had paid for. She looked plain in comparison to the other three women in the carriage, but in perhaps the most comforting way.
Across from her, Phillipa snickered, and it took everything in the youngest Featherington not to snap at her. Such behavior occurred when her father was alive, but Penelope had to admit that her mother was far more lenient with her siblings and their abhorrent behavior towards her than her father had ever been.
Thankfully, it was not long before their carriage pulled up to the Trowbridge home and each end every one of the women filed out of the carriage. Penelope trailed behind her mother and sisters as they climbed the steps and made their way into the ballroom that Lady Trowbridge had meticulously decorated for the evening's festivities. Though they were not late by any means, there was already a healthy throng of people littering about the home, and Penelope had to squeeze her way to the spot her mother and sisters had designated as their own.
The first dance had begun, and luckily for Phillipa Lord Finch had found her escorted her away with due haste. The two would be wed within a fortnight and while she was elated for her sister, it meant that with one sibling gone, her mother would be more prone to giving her attention – something she most certainly did not need.
"I am going to get a glass of lemonade, Mama." Penelope let out, chuckling slightly at the dismissive wave that Portia placed her way.
When she was a few steps away, Penelope turned back to see her mother ushering her sister towards a group of gentlemen and shook her head. No matter how many times she and Prudence managed to quarrel, she still felt bad for her sister when their mama was on a 'rampage.' As she turned to make her way towards the refreshment table, and attempted to get some material for her column, Penelope was met with a rigid wall.
"Oh- pardon me." she exclaimed, glancing up to see none other than Lord Campbell looking down at her, an amused expression on his features.
"Good evening, Miss Featherington." He greeted, nodding his head slightly.
Penlope offered him a slight curtsy and wished the blush that was flooding her cheeks to go away. "Good evening to you as well, I apologize for running into you. I was just on my way to the refreshment table."
"Would you care for some company then?" He inquired, holding his arm out for her to take. It took a moment to get her baring's, but soon enough, Penelope nodded and placed her gloved hand in the crook of Lord Campbells arm.
"You are very kind to offer my Lord, I had not anticipated your company this evening." She admitted, stealing a glance at the gentleman beside her. He was all things a man of the Ton was meant to be. He was comely enough that one would not mind looking at him, with his black hair and piercing green eyes, but there was something missing. Something that Penelope was certain was pivotal in making a match.
"Had you not? I thought that perhaps my attentions at the last event were enough to persuade you I may seek you out again." He suggested, and suddenly Penelope realized what was occurring. He was flirting. With her .
Her heart thudded slightly in her chest, and she glanced around sheepishly, only to catch the eye of the man who had been haunting her. Anthony was on the other side of the room, and though he should have appeared pleased to be there, it looked as if a storm was hitting him. Quickly, Penelope looked back at the gentleman on her arm and chuckled. "I had not my Lord, but I am pleased to hear it nonetheless." she paused, patting his arm reassuringly – just as Anthony had taught her. "Are you enjoying the evening thus far?"
Beside her, Lord Campbell nodded and stopped their advance once the pair reached the refreshment table. The man picked up two glasses, passing one to Penelope prior to answering. "I am indeed, though I will admit that I am not particularly fond of events such as these. I fear I am more of a homebody than my family would care for me to admit." The gentleman took a deep sip of the lemonade, his black beard glistening. "I will say though, my evening would exponentially improve should you accept a dance with me. Though, I would like it noted I would not prefer the quadrille."
Penelope felt a chuckle escape her and she nodded, holding out her wrist for the gentleman to sign his name. "You choose the dance Sir, and I shall follow your lead accordingly."
Lord Campbell looked at Penelope then, something in his gaze that she recognized from speaking with Anthony, and it caused the slightest of shivers to run down her spine. "You are most agreeable, Miss Featherington. It is a wonder you have not been scooped up yet."
Though she wanted to believe in his kindness and the fact that he was genuinely interested in her, Penelope had experienced her fair share of teasing from those in the Ton whilst growing up. She had been made to think someone was sweet on her, only to find later it was a horrid prank. Naturally, her sisters had orchestrated the whole thing as a means of getting back at her, but Lord Campbell was different, wasn't he?
"We-we are in a new season my Lord, things can change." She let out, hoping that deep down if Anthony were next to her, he would be proud of the confidence she was attempting to exude.
Lord Campbell chuckled; voice slightly deeper than before. "Too right you are Miss Featherington. Come, drink your Lemonade, and let us join the dance."
If looks could maim and kill, at least three men would be seriously injured, and Lord Campbell would be dead. Penelope had arrived with her mother and sisters fashionably late (or perhaps unfashionably considering what the rest of her family had arrived in). Penelope, however, had come in looking positively radiant. Her red hair had been placed in a half-up half-down crown style, and it complimented her immensely. Not to mention the blue dress that adorned her frame. Anthony had not missed the shade, it being so utterly close to Bridgerton blue.
In short, Penelope looked like a Goddess, and it had not taken long for other men to take note. Portia Featherington was so preoccupied attempting to throw her deplorable other daughter at men that she completely ignored the diamond within her clutches. Anthony had taken root on the far side of the ballroom, much like a tree, and followed Penelope as she had all but run into Lord Campbell and walked with him to the refreshment table.
He had to give it to her, she was a quick student, but by God did he want to tear her away from the other man. Rage boiled inside of him, and he had half a mind to leave. Find a brothel and take some of his frustrations out in the only way he knew how, but it would not do. That would require him to leave Penelope, and he would not do that – not when she was getting more and more attention.
"Are you well brother?" Benedict said from beside him, all but shoving a glass of Brandy in his hand.
"Do I look well, Benedict?" Anthony replied, voice dripping with malice.
Benedict snickered beside him and shook his head. "No brother, hence, the question." His brother paused and Anthony, for the briefest of moments, thought that Benedict would refrain from speaking, but to his dismay continued. "You are doing yourself no favors by throwing daggers at Lord Campbell, Ant."
With a grumble, Anthony turned to his brother. "I am not throwing daggers. I am simply keeping an eye on him, so he does not take any liberties. Pene-Miss Featherington does not have a man in her life to protect her from any licentious men."
"Ah, I was wondering if you were going to mention that. Licentious men... Really brother, the only licentious man in her life may well be you. Lord Campbell has done nothing but treat her with respect in the presence of the Ton." Benedict quipped, taking a sip of his drink.
A growl escaped Anthony and he flexed his hand at his side, remembering that he was not in the privacy of his own home and smacking his brother over the head would not be a good look. "I know not of what you speak brother, but I do know you should be wary of your next sentence."
The smirk that adorned Benedicts features made Anthony's skin crawl, the action only exasperating his anger tenfold. "You know, I may just dance with Miss Featherington myself. If you will not do it at least."
Rather than rebutting, Anthony moved away from his brother and decidedly closer to the dance floor. The couples were still going about their turns, and Penelope, as always, was dancing beautifully. Campbell was performing better than the last time Anthony had seen the pair dance, but there was something in the glance that the younger lord was tossing Penelope that had the jealous cogs in his brain working.
Anthony took a deep sip of the drink Benedict had provided him and placed it on a nearby table. If he wanted a moment alone with her, he would have to be vigilant about it. What with Penelope's attentions being taken by other men. As the song came to a close, Anthony made his way through the couples and saddled right up to Penelope, offering Lord Campbell a tight-lipped smile.
"Evening Lord Campbell, Miss Featherington." He greeted, allowing his gaze to rake up Penelope's form quickly. She truly did look breathtaking in Bridgerton Blue. Though, the rake in him would much prefer to see the dress on the floor of his chambers.
"I was wondering if I may steal the lady for a dance." The Viscount stated, gaze slightly narrowed in the other man's direction.
Lord Campbell had the decency to at least glance at Penelope before taking a step back. "Of course, My Lord, after all, I took her from you last time." The gentleman replied, turning his attention to Penelope.
"It was an honor to dance with you Miss Featherington. I hope the Viscount does not tread too heavily on your toes. If he does, you know where to find me." Lord Campbell then reached down and took Penelope's gloved hand and pressed a lingering kiss to it before departing.
Once Campbell was out of earshot, Anthony turned to Penelope, lips parting to speak only to be interrupted by the woman herself.
"Anthony." She started; voice harsh but quiet enough that only he could hear. "What are you doing? I thought you were meant to be helping me, not reacting as if I am some plaything."
The ire he had sparked should have been enough to have him back down but seeing the reaction he had caused only spurred him more. "I am helping you; you do not want to seem too eager, Pen." He started, taking her gloved hand in his own and leading them to a different spot on the dance floor.
"Is that why you were being so curt with Lord Campbell? Because you are looking to aid me in finding a husband?" A scoff came from her, and Anthony felt something clench deep within his stomach at seeing her plump lips part in such a way.
"Trust me, the man will forget about the interaction with me within a few moments. Besides, I was not treating you like a plaything, Penelope. I simply wished to dance with my friend."
Whatever he had said, it was the incorrect thing, for Penelope let out a loud scoff and within a second had left him on the dance floor alone. He stood there momentarily, a dumbfounded expression gracing his features. He wanted to go after her, but people would talk if he were to do that, so instead he made his way out of the ballroom the opposite way Penelope had left, only to sneak down a corridor and out another set of doors that lead out to balcony.
It did not take him long to find her, the blur of blue and red headed towards the gardens was all he needed to ascertain her location. Thankfully, the night was still young enough that there were few people milling about, so any chance of them being caught was lowered exponentially.
His feet crunched on the gravel as he attempted to catch up to Penelope. For someone so small she was mightily fast. "Penelope!" He yelled, making sure that the volume of his voice was low enough that he would not draw attention to them.
The red head turned on her heel and looked at him, frustration etched on her features. "What are you doing? Are you mad?"
Anthony let out a chuckle as he closed the distance between them. "No, I would wager you might very well be though. You cannot just storm out on a man during a dance Penelope. It is rude." He chided.
"Rude? Please do not presume to tell me what rude is, Anthony. You speak of wanting to help me find happiness and a husband, say that I deserve all that is good in the world and yet the moment a man shows interest in spending time with me, you intervene like I am a toy you no longer wish to share."
Penelope, to many people, was a shy woman. Someone who blended into the background and who did not cause a scene. She was a fixture to most. For some time, Anthony shamefully thought the same. After getting to know her though, he could see the true woman inside. The kind, witty, generous, loving, and passionate woman that lingered in the depths of her soul. Penelope did not show her true self to merely anyone, only to those she trusted. The frustration and anger she was showing was meant to be scolding, and while Anthony felt just that – there was a glimmer of pride bubbling within him knowing that she was willing to show her true self to him.
Not to mention, when the passion took root in her, a bright flush adorned her cheeks and what with her rapid speaking her chest was rising and falling rather quickly.
Anthony took a step back, a hand on his chest as he watched her regulate her breathing.
Time slowed and he wondered for a second if he ought to be truthful. If he ought to confess to her exactly what he felt when he saw her with another man. That the list he had spent so much time cultivating had been made whilst he was drunk out of his mind because he could not bear to write such a list while sober.
"What if I do not want to share you." He let out; voice ragged as his breathing.
Penelope took a staggard step back, her brows furrowed in confusion. "Anthony-"
"No, Penelope, please. Let me finish." A shaky breath escaped him, and he took a step towards her, enveloping her smaller hands with his own. "I have gotten to know you over the past several months. You have always been in my life, but I will admit that I did not truly see you up until the end of last season. Since then, you have proved to be someone who is irreplaceable in my life. You are the first person I wish to speak to when something good or bad happens. My family adores you, and you are often the voice of reason when no one hears it." He paused then, thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles into the thin lace of her gloves.
"You are one of the kindest, wittiest, most intelligent women I have ever had the pleasure of knowing and when I say that you are dear to me, I mean it. Wholeheartedly . I thought, perhaps naively, that assisting you in finding a husband would be a much easier feat. And if you were less wonderful, it may have been easier, but you are the most wonderful woman I know." He paused once more, bringing a hand carefully up to her cheek. Penelope's blue eyes had not left his countenance, but they were welling with tears, and he would not have that.
"My darling girl. The thought of you married to another man makes me ill. I had thought myself in love before, but... You are a surprise, and I will be damned if I allow another man to experience you." With another shuddering breath, Anthony wiped a rouge tear that made its way down Penelope's porcelain cheek.
"I have been remiss to say it as I know of your feelings for my brother. I know that I am not as witty as Colin, or as entertaining. I know that you may not feel the same way, but when I say I care for you Penelope, I mean it more than I have meant anything in my life." Carefully, Anthony brought their still joined hands up to his chest, and pressed Penelope's palm over his heart.
"You make me question myself every single day and being near you..." Against his better judgement, Anthony lay his forehead against hers, allowing himself the vulnerability of closing his eyes and just breathing in her scent for a moment before continuing. "I am a gentleman Penelope, but you make me question myself and how gentlemanly I truly am every time you allow me in your presence."
Penelope let out a shaky breath then, and a smile formed on his lips. Opening his eyes slowly, he looked down at her to see her blue eyes reflecting back at him. Her lips were parted ever so slightly, and his hold on her hand increased as a means of controlling his urges.
They stood there for a few beats, just breathing in one another's air, basking in the shared warmth of each other's bodies. Anthony attempted to not allow panic to override his feelings. He had never admitted to loving Sienna in such a way, it was not something a man did. However, Penelope was different, and he prayed that he had not just made a fool of himself.
After what felt like an eternity, Penelope finally opened her perfectly plump lips. "You care for me?" The raw vulnerability of her tone had Anthony taking his hand from her cheek to bring her flush against him. He had felt her body against his once before, but after telling her how he felt – suddenly it was different.
"I care about you so much you consume every waking moment I have. You have all but flooded my dreams." He admitted, swallowing harshly when Penelope's small hand snaked its way up and up to his neck.
"I never- I thought..." Penelope paused then and laid her head against Anthony's chest. The smell of her flooded his senses and he held her close, relishing in the feeling of her against him. "I thought you were merely helping me to be kind. I never thought that you could see me as more than just... Eloises's frumpy friend."
He shook his head at that and maneuvered himself so that he was on his knees before her, looking up into the bright blue eyes that he often felt himself getting lost in. "You are far from frumpy Penelope Featherington. You are a goddess and I consider myself one of the luckiest men in the world to know you."
A tearful chuckle escaped her then, and Anthony could not help but smile as he stood once more. "Will you do me the honor of being mine? I fear I cannot go back into that room bearing the thought of having to share you." His hands cradled her head as he awaited her answer.
"Yes, Anthony. Yes, I will be yours" The words no doubt felt silly to her as she giggled as she said them, but they were like a symphony to him and rather than controlling himself any further, he gave into the temptation and pressed a soft, featherlight kiss to her lips.
The kiss was unlike anything Penelope Featherington had ever experienced in her life. It was soft, yet firm. Languid yet possessive. Being kissed was something she had only ever dreamed about and was certainly never something she expected to realistically occur in her life. Penelope had resigned herself rather early to being a spinster. At least when she was older and miserable and taking care of her mother, she would have the knowledge that she did something with her life in terms of her Whistledown column, but Anthony, as always, came in and turned her thoughts on their axis.
Though she had never kissed anyone before, Anthony was an excellent teacher. His soft lips moved against her own in a dance that she was new to, but slowly beginning to pick up – and very much like. Her hands met with the hair at the nape of his neck, and she learned rather quickly that Anthony must have enjoyed it as a low hum sounded from his throat.
"Penelope," He breathed, pressing heated kisses along the corner of her mouth, along her cheek and down the expanse of her neck. Each press of his lips against her skin set her aflame and soon enough she was cocking her head to the side to allow him more access. "God Penelope, you are positively addicting." He groaned, teeth nipping slightly at the expanse of her skin.
A whimper sounded from her, and it took all her strength to hold onto him and not allow her knees to buckle. Never in her life would she have expected such a situation to transpire between her and the Viscount Bridgerton, but what she had learned from Anthony was that he was full of surprises.
Her whimper must have spurred him, for Penelope felt his hands slide from the safety of her waist down to the expanse of her bottom and tug her close. Even through the layers of her dress she could feel the evidence of his approval of her, of his feelings for her. "O-Oh Anthony." She moaned, tugging slightly on his hair in an effort to bring his lips back up to hers.
The tenderness that had been present when they had first kissed was all but gone, and instead, there was only a desperate and all together primal urge that spurred the both of them. Penelope was a stranger to the feelings developing in her, new to the racing of her heart or the tightening of whatever was in the pit of her stomach. All she knew was that she needed Anthony, and Anthony was the key to her salvation.
"Anthony, please." She whimpered, pulling her lips away from his.
Anthony, for his part, looked just as disheveled as she felt, and his lips were swollen beautifully. "Please what Penelope?" He questioned; his voice was lower than she had ever heard before. The timbre of it sent a shiver down her spine and she let out a shaky breath. "Tell me what you need from me, and I will give it to you."
She did not know. That was half the battle. A frustrated whine sounded from her as she raked her gloved nails against his scalp. "I don't - I just."
Her lack of words seemed to please him, for a deep chuckle tumbled past his lips, and within seconds he was back to pressing searing kisses to her cheeks and neck. "Do you wish for me to keep kissing you? Do you wish for me to touch you?" His hot breath on her ear had Penelope all but melting.
His tongue lapped slowly at her pulse point, and he made sure to use the leverage he had on her ass to rotate her hips against his own. "Tell me beautiful girl, tell me what you need and God as my witness I will do whatever it is you need."
Her eyes rolled back momentarily as Anthony into nothing but a puddle of raw emotions, unsure of what to do, say or even think. All she knew was that she needed him between her legs, and even the pressing of her thighs was not alleviating the throb coming from her cunny.
Just as she gained the courage to use her words, Penelope opened her eyes to see not one, but two other people standing in the garden, watching them with slack jaws.
"Mama!?" Was all Penelope could get out before her vision went black.
Notes:
I have absolutely ZERO regrets about this, and while this is NOT where I planned this fic to be going, I am SO proud of these two idiots.
As always, plaese let me know what you think!
Chapter 11
Summary:
The aftermath of Penthony getting caught in the gardens, lots of things ensue, and a confession is aired.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Anthony thought, perhaps naively, that things were going rather well. Of course, he had broken both a personal and societal rule of seducing a woman out of wedlock, but was it truly seducing if he was in love with her? Anthony did not think so. Of course, his actions had been heady, and no doubt shameful, but he did not regret them. Not when Penelope had felt so damn good against him. Not only enjoying herself, but by responding in kind. That was until that four-letter word left her beautiful, kiss-swollen lips and she had fainted in his arms.
Luckily, he had had a good hold on her, for he slowly maneuvered her so that she was being cradled in his arms and he turned. Immediately his blood ran cold, upon seeing the sights of not only Portia Featherington standing there looking positively aghast at what she had just witnessed, but the man who had sparked his jealousy to begin with. Lord Campbell.
"Lady Featherington I can explain." Anthony began, only to be silenced quickly by an undignified scoff.
"Do not waste your time with frivolous explanations Lord Bridgerton. You do not need to issue any more damage than you already have. My poor daughter's reputation is ruined and just when I had thought she had met a good and decent match in Lord Campbell." Portia featherington whined. Truly, the theatrics of the women were commendable, but it made Anthony even more aggrieved knowing that the woman in his arms had to put up with such a pitiful excuse for a mother.
"You suggest that my loving your daughter is a frivolous explanation?" He countered; brow furrowed as he assessed the scene before him.
"Love? Penelope?" Portia rebutted the tone of her words, giving away to the disbelief she held within her. If anything, the disbelief the woman was portraying only proved to fuel the fire within Anthony.
"Come now Bridgerton, you hardly know the chit. You only went after her because you saw that I was showing her any sort of attention." Campbell spoke up, and that was the proverbial straw breaking the camel's back.
Were it not for Penelope being in his arms, Anthony would have knocked the man out. The presence of a woman be damned. "You, Lord Campbell, would do well to watch your tongue lest I cut it out." Anthony warned. His tone and countenance must have shown that he was serious, for Lord Campbell took a careful step back. "I have known Miss Featherington for practically half of her life, though I will be the first to admit that I had not truly seen her up until a few months ago, but she is a wonderful woman with which the likes of you does not deserve."
"Are you suggesting, My Lord, that my daughter deserves a Rake like you? Instead of a kind and decent man such as Lord Campbell?" Portia laughed, almost as if she found the very notion of Anthony and Penelope together was comedic to her. "I suppose the damage has been done, and you will pay for your sins by making her your wife. Whether or not you truly feel as ardently about my dear girl as you so say."
The lashing that Portia Featherington gave him was laughable, truly. It was as if neither she nor Lord Campbell had heard a word he had said. Of course, there were young women who had gotten in such situations only to be scorned by the men that they had allowed themselves to be vulnerable with. However, it was different with Penelope and himself. He loved her, wholeheartedly, and would never do something to tarnish her reputation.
Before he could reply he felt Penelope stirring in his arms and he glanced down at her, his heart thundering away at the adorable picture before him. Penelope's brows furrowed and relaxed, as if she had realized whose arms she inhabited, before her blue eyes fluttered open. "Anthony?" Her voice was as soft as a whisper, but simply hearing his name on her lips brought a light about within him.
"Hello, my darling, your mother and Lord Campbell are here." He replied, carefully assisting her to stand.
As soon as her feet hit the ground, Anthony could see the change in her demeanor. Her shoulders hunched slightly, as if she were attempting to hide within herself. He could not see it and would not have her retreat into herself.
"Mama I can explain-"
"No. I do not want to hear it Penelope Anne Featherington. You have brought shame to the Featherington name." Portia chided, as if the woman before him were not grown. Anthony had heard stories from Eloise, and Penelope herself had illuded to the treatment she received at home, but seeing a glimpse of it firsthand made Anthony realize rather quickly that he would have to procure a special license. She did not deserve to live with such an odious mother for any longer than necessary.
Anthony watched as Penelope stiffened and turned to face her mother. Instinctively, he brought a hand up to rest against her upper arm, telling her that he would be there for her and assist her when dealing with her mother.
"I-" The woman he loved attempted to speak again only to be cut off by her mother again.
"Do not speak another word. You have gotten yourself into enough trouble this evening. You need not add anything more to the fire. You shall fix your attire, and both you and Lord Bridgerton will re-join the party as an engaged couple. I will be making the announcement myself."
Without leaving room for more intervention, Portia Featherington stalked off back towards the house.
There was a beat of silence between the three remaining parties before Lord Campbell let out a low, dark chuckle. As soon as it rang in his ears, was Anthony on edge. The gentleman had been nothing but kind and courteous, but the darkness of his chuckle gave way to something more sinister.
"You know, had I known you were such a wanton whore, I may have dallied with you instead of going with the 'good man' angle" Lord Campbell let out; his gaze focused on Penelope. "I do hope she was worth it, Bridgerton."
"You piece of-" Anthony began, letting go of Penelope and charging towards the other gentleman.
Penelope, in all her goodness and grace managed to get between the men before Anthony could get close enough to swing. All he saw was red, and he wanted Campbells head on a spike.
"Anthony no! He is not worth it. Lord Campbell, you should leave before my obviously shaky resolve falls, and I allow Lord Bridgerton here to show you what true character looks like." She warned, the sternness of her tone shocking both men into glancing at her. Anthony's chest swelled with pride at the fact that she had found her voice. If only she could have found it with her mother as well.
Another dry chuckle came from Campbell as he turned on his heel and left the garden, leaving the two lovebirds alone.
Anthony let out a sigh of relief and wrapped Penelope up in a warm embrace. "I am sorry that all of that transpired... I will be the first to admit that I do not regret what led up to them finding us, however... Just their reactions." He murmured, running his hands in small tight circles along her back. Anthony had so many more questions. He wanted to ask if her mother was always that volatile, but he resisted. The evening had put Penelope through so much already, he did not need to tax her emotions even more.
"I do not regret it either." She admitted, pulling back slightly to look up at him. "Tonight, is one of the first nights I have ever truly felt alive." She admitted, a small giggle escaping her lips. "I am sorry for whatever my mama said while I was rendered unconscious, but I am glad that I had you here with me." Gingerly, her hand came up to rest on his cheek, her thumb rubbing back and forth against his skin.
His brown eyes assessed her countenance, taking in the plumpness of her lips, the softness of her skin, the color of her big blue eyes boring into his, and the flutter of her eyelashes. How he had looked past her for so long, he did not know, but Anthony would be damned before he let her go again. "We should go in before your mama comes back and assumes I have done something absolutely irreprehensible to you in this garden." He stated with a slight, low chuckle.
Penelope flushed slightly and took a step back, "Though I do not doubt I would not enjoy whatever you may do, you are quite correct, My Lord."
Anthony looked at her incredulously for a moment, the temptation to pull her back to him by the waist and claim her as his own in the garden was strong, but instead he simply laughed. "Oh, my darling girl, being married to you is going to be quite the treat."
Penelope simply giggled and placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. "Do I look a mess?"
Anthony shook his head and pressed a soft kiss to her temple. In truth she was more flushed than anything, and a few of her curls had become slightly frizzy, but that was nothing that could not be explained away by the weather. "No, you look perfect."
After making their way back into the ballroom, Anthony played the dutiful prospective son-in-law and made sure to find Lady Featherington, who unsurprisingly, was hovering close to the musicians. She was ready to make a wave, and Anthony doubted she did not care who she inconvenienced in the process.
"Ah, how good of you two to finally join me." Lady Featherington remarked, tossing an eye roll both their ways. On some level, Anthony was sure that she was elated that her youngest daughter had secured such a match, but it was buried deep down. "I have already spoken to the mistress of the house, and she has given the approval for your announcement. The musicians have already been made aware; they will allow you a few moments after this set to announce your engagement, after which I will be taking my daughter home. I expect a call from both you and your mother tomorrow, Lord Bridgerton."
As if she had planned the speech, the musicians ceased playing as soon as Portia had stopped talking. Though she was a loathe woman, Anthony had to hand it to her, she certainly did have a flair for the dramatics.
"Oh, do calm down mother, you put far too little faith in either myself or my future husband." Penelope countered.
With a slight chuckle, Anthony lead Penelope in front of the musicians. He could feel her grip tighten on his arm and he reached up to hold her hand, noting a few of the puzzled looks being tossed their way.
There seemed to be a hush that enveloped the room as soon as everyone saw the two of them together, and Anthony squared his shoulders. He would not allow anyone to make Penelope feel more uncomfortable than she no doubt already was.
"Good evening, everyone. I hope you may forgive me for taking a few moments up of your time." He began, spurred on by a few rogue chuckles that floated throughout the room. "Lady Trowbridge was kind enough to give me the floor to make what I feel is a most happy announcement." Anthony spotted the woman in question and nodded his head to her, before turning his gaze to the woman on his arm. Penelope looked nervous, but there was a spark of joy within her eyes that fueled the fire within him. "I would like to announce that Miss Penelope Featherington and I are engaged." Anthony concluded, never having taken his eyes off his prospective bride.
Penelope beamed up at him and for a moment, Anthony could forget that they were in a crowded room with people who were no doubt in shock.
"It bloody well took you long enough, Bridgerton!" Someone yelled, and if he did not know better, Anthony could have sworn it was Benedict.
Soon enough the room was clapping, but Anthony was no ninny. The announcement no doubt came as a shock to many people in the room, least of all his family who were in attendance.
Before he could say anything to Penelope, Portia had popped up from wherever she had hidden during the announcement and urged the woman on his arm to leave.
"I shall see you soon?" Penelope's voice echoed; a twinge of anxiety laced within the syllables.
Anthony carefully brought her gloved hand up to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss to her knuckles. "You could not keep me away." He breathed, watching with a sick sort of satisfaction as Portia all but hauled Penelope away.
"Have you completely lost your mind, Brother?" Eloise called, rushing up to him with their mother, and Benedict at her side. "Since when have you been interested in Penelope? Surely you two have not been courting in secret for she would have told me."
Benedict chuckled beside her, and Anthony gave him a warning glance.
"Eloise dearest, I do think your dear brother has held a candle for Penelope for the last few months. Have you not noticed?" Violet piped up, tossing her daughter a questioning glance.
Eloise shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest, much like a petulant child would. "No, and what is more is that Pen has not said a thing. Are you sure that neither of you have suffered amnesia? Or perhaps someone spiked the lemonade."
Anthony let out a laugh at the ridiculous lengths Eloise was willing to go to, to make sense of what had just transpired. "No Eloise, I fear that mama is correct in this one instance."
"One instance?" Violet tutted, gently bringing a hand up to her eldest son's cheek and patting it gently. "A mother knows these things. I am so happy for you Anthony. I always hoped Penelope would be a Bridgerton one day, I simply did not know which of my sons would be smart enough to notice her."
Benedict tossed Anthony a glance and ran his hand through his hair. "Well, it appears that Anthony is the brightest of us all. Now brother, when did you decide to propose? One would have thought you would have acquired a family ring prior to asking, no?"
Anthony could tell his brother was fishing for information, but Anthony was not about to admit in front of his mother and sister that he and Penelope had been caught in the garden a few mere moments away from making love in the garden. "It was a spur of the moment idea." He answered, putting his hands behind his back, and tossing his gaze at his mother and sister.
"I will no doubt be looking through the family jewels tomorrow to bestow a ring to Penelope, but I could not help myself this evening."
"Oh, how romantic." Violet breathed, much to Eloise' chagrin.
Eloise looked none too pleased about the impending nuptials, and Anthony wanted to shake the frustration off her features.
"I'm sure you could not brother," Benedict chimed, a smirk on his features as he patted his brother's shoulder. "I am pleased to be having Pen in the family. She is, at times, the sanest person in the room. Notwithstanding myself of course."
Benedicts words must have broken Eloise out of whatever rumination she was in, for that earned a guffaw from her. "You take that back, Benedict."
It was not long before Eloise was chasing after Benedict in a futile attempt to get him to take his words back.
Anthony, no matter how much he loved his family, could not wait until the day he and Penelope were wed and could live alone. Surely, he would miss the chaos his family provided sometimes, but he had no doubt that he and Pen could cause a little chaos of their own.
Violet placed her hand in the crook of Anthony's elbow and motioned for him to lead her about the room. "Now my darling son, you must tell me what actually happened. If I am to assist you facing Portia Featherington I need details."
The next morning found Penelope positively surrounded by her mother and sisters. She had been woken up abruptly by the shrill sound of three voices. All three of the Featherington women were in her bedchamber hurling question after question at her. Even Varley stood in the doorway looking a fine mix of suspicion and curiosity.
Penelope placed her head in her hands and prayed that Anthony would have half a mind to get a special license. The less time that she had to spend with her dear mama and sisters, the better.
"I will not have you getting married before Phillipa, Penelope. It is in poor taste to outshine one's own sister." Portia began.
"Yes indeed! And Alby and I have been so patient after Papa died. I forbid you from outshining me, Penelope!" Phillipa cried, wringing her hands at her side as if she were three and had been denied a sweet.
Prudence, for the most part, was quiet. Though she had a few quips to say here and there. "How did you get him to propose to you Penelope? It is not as if you two were close before last night."
Penelope let out an undignified groan that morphed into a screech. The sound and action had alarmed everyone enough to stop their speaking and look at her. Of course, they all passed judgement and gazed upon her as if she were Cerberus, but Penelope did not care.
"I will express to Anthony that I wish to wait until Phillipa is wed before we marry." She said, carefully training her gaze on her mama and Phillipa as she spoke. "And as for the Viscount proposing, I have been a friend of the family for some time. It is only natural for Lord Bridgerton and I to have become acquainted over that time as well." Penelope began, sitting back against her headboard. "We have gotten to know one another more intimately over the past few months and while I was not expecting his proposal last night, I dare say I was not about to deny him." She finished, noting the way her mother had sucked in a breath when she had uttered the word intimate.
That would teach her.
The sudden realization however that she was going to not only be marrying Anthony but would be taking up the title of Viscountess hit her, and she slumped slightly where she was seated. She had been practically born and bred to be married, but no one, not even her mother, could have assumed she would be wed to a Viscount.
It was not only the fact that she would be marrying Anthony that troubled her. It was her longstanding secret. No one knew about Whistledown, not the truth anyway. It would not be fair to trap a man into a marriage without him knowing the truth of it all. That was what scared her most, the thought that Anthony may find out the truth and completely change his mind.
She did not hear whatever it was her sisters and mama were saying, and simply placed her hands over her face. Whatever they were saying was not of consequence anyways, not when she had so much on her mind.
"Please leave me," She started, abruptly shutting all three women up.
"Penelope Featherington!" Portia began, only for Penelope to affix a sharp gaze on her mother.
"Mama, I know. My marriage is not what you were expecting, this is all very new, but you must see that this is advantageous for all of us. You may question Lord Bridgerton's motives given how you found us last night, but I can assure you that he is one of the best men there is. I consider myself honored to call him my future husband, and you should be more than pleased with me for securing such a match." Penelope bit back. There was less malice in her tone than she had originally wanted, but her words were succinct enough that her mother understood that she was not wanted and needed to vacate.
"Wait, what do you mean how she found you? Mama?!" Prudence shrieked as Portia lead both her and Phillipa out the door of Penelope's bedchamber.
Once the door was closed, Penelope tossed a pillow over her head and screeched into it. She had no idea how she was going to break the news to Anthony, nor when, but it had to happen before they were wed. She could not fall into a marriage with him without him knowing the truth.
Anthony felt as if he were a thirteen-year-old boy again and was getting scolded by his parents for putting raw meat in Benedicts wardrobe. His mother, Benedict, Daphne (who was still heavily pregnant), Simon, Eloise and Francesca all stood before him, each of them looking at him with a mixture of entertainment, confusion, and displeasure. Obviously, the news of his impending nuptials was something that involved his family, but he had not expected the cavalry.
"Well, you all have gathered here to say something, so why do you not take turns expressing your feelings on my impending match." Anthony stated, leaning back on the sofa. He had no concerns about his family, hating the idea of his marrying Penelope, but he did think there would be some concerns regarding that of her family. Marrying Penelope meant marrying into the Featherington family. It meant having to deal with Portia, and her two other daughters. Of course, Phillipa was not particularly bad, dim certainly, but not cruel. Prudence had a penchant for being slightly cruel, Anthony had heard her throughout the years.
"Darling," Violet began, only to be silenced by Daphne.
"Do you absolutely love Penelope's brother? I fear you do not understand what it is exactly you are taking on." She stated, hands carefully resting on her hips. Simon stood behind her, a brow rising inquisitively. Obviously since marriage Simon had lost his ability to speak, and instead shared a single brain cell with his darling sister.
"I fear that because of how much I love Penelope, I know exactly what I am getting into." He replied evenly, adjusting his waistcoat. "I have known her since she was ten-and-six. I have gotten to know her over the past few months, and I see that she is becoming a strong and wonderful person. She is who I want and need by my side."
Francesca let out a small lovelorn sigh and seated herself on the sofa beside him. "I could tell your true feelings for her when she came to visit us over Christmas Tide."
Anthony glanced at his younger sister with a cocked brow. How could Franny be able to deduce something that he was not even so sure of himself? "I do not believe that for a moment." He retorted with a mirth-filled chuckle, attempting to figure out what it was that could have tipped Francesca off.
"You have been in love with her since then, I am sure of it." Benedict quipped, crossing his arms as if he were in thought. "I think the only one in this room not privy to it other than yourself is Eloise. Daphne and Simon, I shall give a pass to, seeing as they have been living elsewhere."
Anthony laughed then, feeling entirely all too ganged up on. "Right, well that still does not answer the question of what you all feel in regard to the union. I know that Eloise is cross with me at the moment considering I am 'stealing' her dearest friend."
Anthony's mother shook her head and let out the slightest laugh. Violet Bridgerton had all been waiting for her eldest son to make up his mind and select a bride, though he very much doubted she would have ever guessed it would have been Penelope.
"My son, when will you realize that we simply want you happy? There is no concern in regard to who you are marrying because it is Penelope. Each of us cares for her, no doubt she will be happy with the union. The fact that you have been smiling and happy once more is all we need. You need not seek some form of acceptance from us."
He would not have called it acceptance, more of hearing out their opinions. However, knowing that his family were happy with his decision, no matter how brash it seemed, made his chest constrict slightly. He naively thought himself head over heels in love with Sienna all those months ago, but getting to know Penelope changed his idea of love. He had never truly been in love before Penelope, and he would be damned if he let her go now.
He stood from where he had been seated and let out a final sigh. "Well then, I suppose that we have a wedding to begin planning."
It had been two days since she had seen him last, two days since she had held him or spoken to him. Two days far too long. For years, Penelope had fancied herself in love with Colin. Believing that one day he may see the light and realize his feelings for her. Then he broke her heart and left in one fell swoop. For a while, Penelope thought that it was a good thing. She would embrace the spinsterhood that her mother so often reminded her she would end up in. She enjoyed reading and writing, and all the other things spinsters did. Of course, she would miss having true romance and a family of her own, but for the briefest of moments, Penelope had sequestered herself to that life. Then, as if God himself had heard her thoughts, Anthony came into her life.
She had known him for years but had never truly spoken to him apart from pleasantries. Penelope had watched him from the sidelines as Whistledown, had learned of his rakish ways, but had never thought that underneath the serious exterior that he possessed, he could be so... Well, wonderful.
Her mother had been keeping a serious eye on her ever since the ball, and while Penelope could not exactly blame her, it definitely made telling the man she was in love with that she was Lady Whistledown. She had tossed and turned the past few nights, her dreams concocting all sorts of reactions that Anthony could possess towards the news. Would he be happy? Sad? Furious? Penelope could never quite pinpoint how he would react, of course why would she? They were always dreams. Her mama had left with Phillipa and Prudence to go to dinner with the Finches. Phillipa's wedding was just a few days away and Penelope had faked being ill to get out of it. She was not the best of actresses, but her mother had lost all patience for her since the Trowbridge ball. The less she was around Portia Featherington, the better.
It was not until she was sure Varley had gone down to the kitchens that Penelope snuck out of the house, cloak on, and crossed the street to Bridgerton house. It did not take long for her to be let in. Given the hour, most of the family was congregating in the great room, taking their tea before they went to bed.
"Shall I announce your presence, Miss Featherington?" The older gentleman's voice boomed, and Penelope quickly shook her head.
"No! No, please tell the Viscount I would like to see him urgently and privately." Penelope stated, mustering up as much courage as she could to sound firm.
There was a moment where the butler lingered, no doubt he wanted to speak to her about propriety and how improper it was for the two of them to be alone, even if they were engaged, but the gentleman headed her words and went to fetch Anthony. She was unsure what the butler said, but Anthony was out of the great room in no time, a look of panic and unease etched across his handsome features.
Penelope could feel her heart racing as he closed the distance between them and took her hands within his. "Pen? Whatever is it?"
Bless him, he was worried. So was she, truth be told.
Penelope let out a shaky chuckle and motioned towards the hallway that she knew housed his office. "May we speak privately? In your office?"
Anthony regarded her for a moment, gaze flickering over her before nodding and leading her towards his office. Penelope could tell that he did not like the circumstances of her visit, and she felt horrible, but perhaps he would thank her one day should he not take the news well.
Once the door was closed behind them, Penelope took off her cloak and lay it across a leather armchair, smoothing the fabric down out of anxiety as she watched Anthony out of the corner of her eye. He was moving slowly, watching her, assessing her. He was trying to gauge what her reasoning was for visiting.
"Penelope, please tell me – is something wrong? You are not breaking off the engagement, are you?" His voice was soft, vulnerable even. It compelled her to wrap him in her arms and never let go.
Quickly, she rounded to where he stood behind his desk and took his hands within hers, bringing them up to her chest, holding them tight. "I would do no such thing, Anthony. I love you far too much to break off our engagement." she let out, noting the relief in his gaze.
She could see the moment that his brow cocked, and his thoughts turned much less volatile. "So, then you missed me?" His voice oozed satisfaction, and if she was not careful, Penelope was sure they were going to end up in a far more precarious position than they had at the Trowbridge ball.
With a chuckle she nodded her head, but pulled her hands away from him, taking a careful step back. "Of course, I missed you, Anthony." She replied, watching as he took a step towards her, and then another until she was backed against his bookshelves.
"It is such a relief to hear it Pen, you have no idea how much I have missed you." He breathed, a hand reaching out to caress her cheek whilst the other made its way to her hip.
His hand that lay upon her hip felt as if it were branding her, it was so warm. A shiver ran up and down her spine at the very thought of his hand reaching around and squeezing her, just as he had in the garden. "Anthony, I-I did not come over here to have you seduce me," she began, all but whimpering as his lips met with her neck. The scent of him was enough to have her lose her train of thought.
"No?" He questioned, the deep timbre of his voice reverberating through her. "And here I thought my little wife wanted to feel her husband's lips against her once more."
Involuntarily, her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and her hands met with the deep brown tresses of his hair. "We are not even married yet, Anthony."
Her rebuttal garnered a slight growl out of him as he pressed her harder into the shelf, she could feel his arousal against her thigh, and it made her thighs clench in an attempt to alleviate the pressure she felt between her legs.
Anthony lapped and nipped at the skin of her throat, slowly moving up to capture her lips within his own. His kiss was more urgent than it had been on the night of the Trowbridge ball, there was an air of desperation about the kisses that left Penelope hungry for more.
"Anthony!" she urged, pushing back, blinking a few times as she looked up at him. His lips were slightly swollen, and his hair was mussed from her hands. "I-have come to tell you something."
Anthony leaned his forehead against hers and allowed both his hands to find their home on her ass, squeezing the generous globes slightly. "Then tell me what it is you have come to say and let me get back to ravishing you."
It was not how she had envisioned telling him, not at all really, but he had given her no choice – not that she had really protested.
With a gulp, Penelope looked into his dark brown eyes and told him the truth. "I am Lady Whistledown."
Notes:
DUN DUN DUUUUUUUHHH
Chapter twelve is gonna be coming in hot!! Let me know what you think!
Chapter 12
Summary:
Anthony processes the information of his betrothed being Lady Whistledown, and it turns into a spicy time.
Notes:
Just putting a warning at the beginning of this for anyone who doesn't like to read smut/spice/sex scenes. This chapter is NOT for you darling.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Anthony stood there for a moment, processing what it was Penelope had just said.
"I am Lady Whistledown"
The words echoed in his brain repeatedly, the wheels of his mind attempting to process what she said, how she had said it, and the ramifications of the information. Lady Whistledown was many things. A gossip monger, a disturber of all things holy, intelligent, witty, and sometimes necessarily cruel. Even though he had not given much thought to lay behind the column, he would never have thought it to be Penelope. She was too sweet and demure to have the ability to be so cutting.
Yet, she had admitted it to him. Admitted it to his face whilst he was attempting to seduce her. There was no way she was saying such a thing to gain influence. If anything, she was doing it out of the goodness of her own heart.
"I thought you should know before you marry me." She stated, her voice soft and small.
The contrast between the woman on the page and the woman before him was stark. Penelope did not come off as possessing a cruel or intimidating bone in her body, and yet Lady Whistledown was revered for just that – amongst some other things.
Anthony took a deep breath and stepped away from her, adjusting his semi-hard erection in his trousers. He did not know what to say fully, he did not know how to comprehend the news she had just laid at him.
Slowly, Anthony made his way to his desk chair, gaze settling on one spot in the room as he ran through issues that had been published in the past.
Lady Whistledown-Penelope, had always had a knack for being astute and charming whilst cutting people down. Though he could rarely think of an instance in which they did not deserve the humbling. Except perhaps, for when Lady W-Penelope, spoke of herself. Anthony turned his gaze to his future wife then, brows furrowed slightly as he thought back to the things that had been written about her. "Over-Ripe Citrus fruit." He let out, shaking his head. Then of course, there was that nasty business of what had been written about Colin that sprang to mind and he shifted in his seat.
"You wrote about Colin – you were the one who let out the truth about Marina. Why?" His tone was sharper than he had intended, but with such information, he needed the truth and fast.
A warm flush made its way into Penelope's cheeks then, and she ducked her head as she fiddled with the fabric of her dress. "I am sure that you are no stranger to how I felt about your brother for some years," Penelope began, her voice shaking the tiniest bit.
Anthony felt himself gulp, and he nodded, urging her on.
"Well, when I learned of Marinas... Condition, and attempted to aid her in regaling the news to the true father, I also found out about her and my Mama's plan. Colin was besotted with Marina last season, as you well remember, and I had tried repeatedly to get him to see reason – to understand that she was in love with another, but he would not listen." She let out, finally looking up at Anthony then.
Her blue eyes were piercing, and were it any other instance, Anthony was sure his breath would be taken away.
"I understand I hurt many people with what I publish – especially in that instance, but I could not sit by idle while Colin ruined his life for someone who was not truly in love with him." Her words hit something deep within Anthony then.
He recalled the dinner that had been hosted in the Featherington home that himself, his mother, and Colin had all been forced to attend once Colin and Marina had sprung their engagement on everyone. It had been a vile evening, filled with off pitch singing, and most awkward planning on Lady Featherington's part. What he had noticed at the time was that Penelope had been off, a sullen, if not angry, look on her delicate features. Anthony at the time had naively thought that it was due to her mother's chastising but understanding the truth it made everything click into place.
Understanding dawned on him and he let out a slow, heavy sigh.
"As for the comments that I had to write about myself... I could not very well keep my name out of the column, it would be far too suspicious."
Anthony rose then and stalked towards her, once again backing her against the shelves.
He regarded her for a moment, allowing his deep brown eyes to rake over her form. Noting the tremble of her lips and the anxiety laying behind her blue-eyed gaze. "While that is true, if I recall, you were never kind to yourself in what you wrote, Pen."
A surge of frustration, protectiveness and anger moved through him as he raised his hands to either side of her head, effectively trapping her against the shelf. "I will not fault you for what you said about your family, for I understand your feelings towards them and how complex they are, but why speak so poorly of yourself?"
Penelope let out an airy chuckle, almost sounding as defeated as she looked. "I could not very well say I was a great beauty, Anthony. No one would believe that, and then everyone would either know it was me, or simply believe that I knew who Whistledown was." There was a defensiveness to her tone that made him sigh and grip the shelf harder.
The wood strained beneath his fingers as he processed what she was saying. "Do you not think yourself beautiful, Penelope?"
The question was a loaded one, Anthony could see that the moment that the words left his lips. It seemed like a question that Penelope had not been expecting as it seemed to throw her off some, but it was one that needed to be asked and answered. To him, Penelope was the definition of beauty. She had curves that were soft and supple, hips that would no doubt aid her in carrying their children. Plump lips that were ripe for kissing, and breasts that he fantasized about at nauseam. Her physical beauty, however, would always pale in comparison to the beauty of her soul. Penelope possessed more kindness, humility, wit, and goodness in her than half the ton combined. She was radiant, and Anthony wished that she could see what he saw.
Penelope let out a small hum as she shrugged her shoulders. Her gaze dropped to his chest, no doubt in an effort to avoid any intensity his own gaze possessed. "There are times when I get a glimpse at how pretty I am, but I would never call myself beautiful. Not in comparison to the likes of some of the other eligible young ladies of the Ton."
Her honesty was refreshing, but no less heartbreaking. Anthony's gaze softened as he took in the levity of Penelope's words. She had gone through so many years of her life not thinking herself anything but pretty, and even then, it was not a constant. Though he knew Penelope was partly to blame, Anthony immediately saddled all the blame for his future wife's insecurities on her nitwit of a mother.
"Listen to me when I say this, darling girl." He began, carefully hooking a finger beneath her chin to force her to look him in the eye. "Though your admission today of being Lady Whistledown is astounding, and I am still attempting to process the confession, the most outrageous thing I believe I've heard pass your lips today is the fact that you do not think yourself beautiful."
Penelope looked at him with her brows furrowed, confusion etched on her features. "I beg your pardon?"
Anthony let out a low hum and nodded at her. "While I don't condone your actions as Whistledown, I do not condemn them either. It has given you an outlet and a way to escape the reality that you face living with your family. While I have many questions regarding the business aspect of your enterprise, and how you have managed to keep it a secret for so long, I dare say that is not my priority at the moment." Anthony replied evenly, his thumb slowly caressing her cheek.
"W-what is your priority?" She breathed, her petite hand coming up to hold his against her cheek.
With a satisfied smirk, Anthony lightly nuzzled his nose against hers. "It is to show you just how beautiful you truly are."
A slight look of alarm flooded its way onto Penelope's visage, and he could feel her shift against the bookshelf. She may be uncomfortable, but he was determined to make it so that she saw herself how he did. Like a living, breathing, goddess.
"How do you propose to do that, Mr. Bridgerton?" She questioned; brow cocked as she maintained eye contact with him. There was no teasing in her tone, but the way she had kept her gaze locked on his had Anthony buzzing with desire. He could see the confident woman that Penelope most definitely could be laying just barely beneath the surface, and if she were to be Viscountess, he needed her to access that confidence and ooze it.
"Well," He began, dropping his hand that had previously been on her cheek to her hip, caressing the ample flesh underneath the layers of fabric. "I had thought to kiss you silly, perhaps make you forget what we were just speaking about, but I dare say I thought of something much better." he mused, allowing his lips to capture hers quickly. The kiss was a lingering one, Anthony intent on making sure that she was left wanting for more. Her taste was enough for him to forget himself for a moment, but the evening was not about him. It was about Penelope and showing her what she meant to him.
Anthony pulled away a fraction to look at Penelope, noting the slight part of her lips. She looked relaxed and happy. It was a wonderful start, but he intended to have her completely unraveled by the time he was done. Slowly, Anthony bent down to capture her lips with his own again, humming appreciatively when he felt her mouth open a bit more as he ran his tongue against her bottom lip. Penelope was not practiced in kissing by any means, but she was certainly not bad at it. She was a quick study, and more over enthusiastic. Gently, Anthony nipped at her bottom lip, relishing the sinful moan that escaped her as he began to trail his kisses down her neck. Instead of stopping at her neck as he had earlier, Anthony continued his descent, leaving searing kisses down the porcelain expanse of her chest. Penelope was flushed all the way down to where her dress hid her bosom and he yearned to pull down the fabric and see what was awaiting him. Instead of doing that though, he nipped at her skin a few times, uncaring if she would have marks there in the morning.
Anthony glanced up at Penelope's visage then and his stomach clenched as he saw the positively blissful expression on her features. "Does that feel good, darling?" he breathed, smirking as she moaned her agreement.
"Yes," it was breathy and deep, and everything Anthony wanted to hear, but he was not done.
"Do you know what I love about you, Penelope?" He breathed, his hands moving from their spot on her hips to her thighs, fingers deftly pulling up the fabric of her dress.
All he got in response was a small hum, and Anthony let out a dark chuckle. "It is quite the list, but I have all the time in the world with you, don't I darling?" His fingers came across the seam of her dress and he hummed knowing that she had let him all but bare herself to him. "I love your kindness, your goodness, your lips..." He trailed off, allowing his hands to move from the fabric of her dress to the bare skin of her milky white thighs. His touch made Penelope hiss and a groan tumbled past his lips. "God Pen... You are a vixen. A stunning vixen who has me under her clutches." His fingernails bit into her soft flesh as he slowly moved his position, so he was kneeling between her legs.
Penelope was not the tallest of women, so even on his knees he was about the height of her chest. Seeing her in such a way, flushed and wanting him was a heady experience.
"Anthony," she breathed, her hands finding their way into his hair. "W-what are you doing?" Her chest was rising and falling quickly, and Anthony resisted every urge he had within him to tear the dress and corset off her so he could see what lay beneath.
"Shh my darling girl, let me continue." He soothed, rubbing small circles into her thighs. He could feel the heat radiating from her center, and his mouth watered at the prospect of her taste. For some reason, Anthony just knew that she would taste sweet, and that was perhaps what scared him most. For if he got a taste, he might not want to stop. "You have this gorgeous flush that makes your skin look the perfect mixture of peaches and cream, you have this habit of biting your lip whilst deep in thought, and your body..." He paused then, allowing his hands to run up and down the back of her thighs, stopping right underneath her plump ass.
"You are soft and luscious, and I cannot help but think about how I want to sink into you over and over again until you know nothing but my name." He all but groaned, allowing himself the agency to slide his hand to the inside of her thigh, slowly encroaching closer and closer to the sweet spot he was so eager to experience. "You have bewitched me with your beauty Penelope, and I want nothing more than to show you how beautiful you are. Will you allow me that honor my darling girl? Will you be good enough to let me do that?" His voice had dropped, and Anthony was aware that he was practically begging, but Penelope's blue-eyed gaze had not left him, instead, staring at him almost as if she could see right into his soul.
"Please," she whimpered, her hips moving of their own accord to attempt to find some sort of pressure.
Anthony pressed a soft kiss to her thigh and ever so slowly brought his thumb to the apex of her core, feeling the heat and wetness of her arousal. Not to mention, the throbbing of her sensitive bud. "Oh Pen..." He breathed, pressing lightly against her clit. A loud keening noise sounded from her, and Anthony looked up, both pleased and surprised. "I know my love, but please remember not to be too loud, we do not want to get interrupted, do we?" He cooed, noting how Penelope dutifully nodded her assent and placed one hand over her mouth.
"That's such a good girl," He praised, carefully lifting one of her thighs up so that it rest on his shoulder. From the angle he could see her core practically dripping for him, and he had barely touched her. "Do you want me to keep going Penelope? If you do, you must hold onto your dress. Can you do that for me?"
Often times he felt as if she were never given a true choice, and if he were going to show her her beauty, and how much he cared in his study, he would damn well make sure her consent was present.
Penelope nodded enthusiastically, rolling her hips against his thumb. A deep and muffled moan sounded from her as she clutched at the fabric of her gown, and Anthony gently bit into the flesh of her thigh. His cock was practically throbbing just from seeing her start to enjoy her pleasure, and Penelope was not making it any easier to take with how eager and willing she was. He prayed she stayed thus.
"You have no idea how stunning you look right now Penelope, your eyes are bright, your skin is flushed and your hair... God... God knew what he was doing when he bestowed that shade of hair upon your head." He let out, rubbing his thumb against her clit in slow circles. She looked like a goddess above him, the candlelight and firelight all but making her hair look aglow.
Her head tipped back, and instead of keeping her mouth covered, her hands flew to the shelf he had her pinned against. She looked positively enraptured and he had barely even started yet.
"Is that good, Pen?" He questioned, applying a little bit more speed and pressure to her clit. He could sense from the way her hips were sputtering against his ministrations that she was close, but he doubted that she fully even comprehended what was occurring. No matter how much of a minx, Penelope was still very much so innocent.
"Y-yes Anthony, so good." She whimpered, nails digging into the mahogany of the shelf. Her breathing increased slightly, and as much as he was desperate to see her come undone due to his attentions, he wanted to teach her a lesson. One that she would not be likely to forget. Immediately, he pulled his finger away from her clit, instead, opting to trace her folds with his index finger, enjoying just how wet she was.
A frustrated whimper came from Penelope then, and Anthony chuckled slightly. "Were you close, my darling?" He breathed, swallowing deeply as his finger met with her entrance. Slowly, he pushed in, groaning and laying his forehead against her abdomen as his finger slipped deeper and deeper into her core. He was met with some resistance, but given the fact that she was so aroused, her body was not fighting the intrusion. No doubt she would feel tight around his cock considering she was slightly snug around his finger. His cock, in retaliation to the feeling of the tight fit on his finger leaked slightly against his thigh. No doubt there would be a mess in his pants later, but Anthony tried desperately to push that out of his mind and focus on the stunning woman before him.
"A-Anthony, I need." She began, her hips beginning to move again, her movements caused his finger to sink deeper, and it took all the resolve he had not to shove all the contents of his desk to the ground and take her then and there, to claim her; make her his. "I need more" she cried, riding his finger without any assistance from him now.
"More?" he let out, moving his hand to meet with the ministrations of her hips. He was not doing much, but Penelope was taking what she wanted, and she looked positively ethereal above him, undulating her hips, plump lips parted as she panted to keep up with her own desire. "Is this what you mean beautiful? Do you need me to meet you, or do you want another finger?"
Part of him hoped, no prayed, that she would say she wanted another finger. Anthony yearned to feel how tight she was, to stretch her out and make her shatter all over him. His cock was throbbing almost painfully in his trousers, but the most he could and would do was shift his hips in time with her movements. He was not getting the friction he craved, but he still slid against the fabric of his pants, and unfortunately, Anthony was sure that would be enough with how much Penelope was affecting him.
Above him, Penelope shook her head, stilling her movements as she motioned towards him. "I'd like you to u-use another finger, please." She whimpered, eyes fluttering shut as he pulled his finger out to where just the tip was in and added another alongside it, pushing in ever so slowly, gauging Penelope's feelings towards the foreign stretch.
"You're so beautiful like this Pen, you are beautiful all the time but damn if you are not as stunning as a summers day." He let out, kissing at her thigh. "How does it make you feel Pen? Do you feel good? Do you feel beautiful?" He questioned, desperate to hear her assent. He wanted so desperately to hear her say yes so that he could give her the orgasm that she so obviously deserved.
Penelope's head tipped back, as she adjusted to the stretch of his digits. "Oh G-God." She preened. He could see her chest rising and falling as she attempted to calm herself and her nerves. There was hardly any resistance though, and finally his digits were knuckle deep in her core. Her arousal dripped out of her pussy and onto his hand. "Answer me Penelope, and I'll make you cum all over my fingers." He instructed, slowly moving his fingers in and out of her at a tantalizing pace.
"It feels so good, I-I've never felt like this before." Penelope admitted, blue eyes fluttering open. "So full ." Her hips sputtered against his fingers and Anthony stilled his movements, to teach her that he meant business.
"And you are full, Pen. So full with my fingers, you will be so full with my cock one day soon. Would you like that beautiful? To be split in half with my cock?"
His words must have reached something deep within her, for Penelope let out one of the most beautiful sounding moans he had ever heard in his entire life. "Anthony, please ."
It was the timbre of her voice that caused the dam to break, any resolve he had to falter. Anthony let out a primitive sounding growl and kissed his way up her inner thigh until his lips reached the apex of her sex. The high preening sound was all the consent he needed before greedily lapping at her clit, alternating between sucking, and licking at the sensitive and throbbing nubbin as he began to fuck her with his fingers in earnest. In due time she would be his and he would be able to fuck her with his cock rather than his mouth and fingers, but until then, seeing her ride the waves of pleasure and climb the mountain to her peak was enough for him.
Penelope abandoned the hold she had on her dress and instead opted to hold onto his dark tresses of hair. Her nails raking against his scalp caused Anthony to moan, and the vibrations must have been exactly what she required, for Penelope came undone. Her cunt contracted against his fingers, making it virtually impossible for him to continue his thrusts and the moan of his name as her juices flooded his hand was akin to seeing heaven.
Once she loosened back up a bit, Anthony coaxed her through her orgasm, assisting her in coming down from the high. She looked spent, taken, and so utterly happy, Anthony thought he could die of pride. With one last lick to her core, Anthony slowly placed her food back on the floor and stood up, wincing at the throbbing of his cock. He would have to take care of that later. "How do you feel, gorgeous?" The words tumbled out as he slowly extracted his fingers from her tight wet core.
The red head let out a lazy giggle, eyes – which had closed during her climax – opening to take him in. "I feel… Different, but so good. That was absolutely wonderful." She breathed, reaching out to pull him closer to her. Her hands roamed his chest, almost as if she were inspecting her prize. "Is there… Is there anything I may do to assist you?" She questioned; voice small as she glanced up at him through her lashes. For someone so innocent, Penelope truly was a minx. With a slight groan, Anthony shook his head and rested his forehead against hers.
"My beautiful darling girl, you have helped me more than I could dare say." He began, only to choke out a rather embarrassing sound as Penelope's hand slid from his stomach down to the outline of his cock in his breeches. " Fucking hell ." He ground out, his hips seeking purchase against her hand. He was so pent up it no doubt would take two strokes of her hand to bring him off completely. Anthony reached down and placed his hand over Penelope's stilling her. "You do not need to worry about me, I will be fine."
The woman before him cocked her head to the side, biting down slightly on her bottom lip. "You do not want me to help you?" Such an innocent question could lead to the utter undoing of them both. She had to know that.
"Pen, it is not that I do not wish for you to help me, it is simply that you do not need to. I wanted to make you feel immaculate and beautiful, I did not do any of that so that you may return the favor." He told her simply, his brown eyes searching hers. There was a look of determination in her gaze that Anthony both loved and dreaded.
A sigh escaped her, and she captured his lips with her own. For a moment there was a hesitation on both of their parts considering her arousal was still on his lips, but soon enough Penelope got over the taste and responded in kind, kissing him eagerly. Anthony felt himself get lost in the kiss, humming appreciatively as her tongue sought purchase on his lips. It was then, when he was good and distracted that he felt her hand move along his shaft, and Anthony groaned loudly against her lips. Just as he had thought, it only took a few strokes for him to be on the brink, and it was his turn to transform into a heavy breathing mess.
"Pen," He whined, though it was painful to be still in his breeches, the friction she provided was plenty for him.
"You made me feel beautiful and wanted Anthony, let me do the same for you." she urged, the sensual tone of her voice sending him over the edge. A white-hot heat burst through him as he came in his breeches, hips sputtering as Penelope milked his cock for all he had. He moved to lay his forehead on her shoulder and let out a breathy chuckle, holding himself up on the shelf behind her.
"You have bewitched me Penelope, my God . I have half a mind to sweep you off to Gretna Green at this very instant." He mused lazily, attempting to get his breathing back on track.
A chuckle sounded from Penelope then and she pressed a kiss to his temple. "I would not exactly be opposed. My mama insists that we wait some time to wed as Phillipa's wedding is fast approaching."
The news made Anthony shoot his head up, an incredulous look on his features. "Your mother has insisted what now? First thing, tomorrow I am applying for a special license, and we will be wed the day after your sister. I refuse to have your mother dictate us, and what is more, I do not think I could go much longer without you by my side."
At his admission, his future wife let out a happy giggle, tenderly caressing his cheek. "Who knew Anthony Bridgerton was such a romantic?"
"Oh, my dear little wife, you