An Honorary Bridgerton
Summary:
In which, Anthony Bridgerton falls in love with Penelope Featherington, through the eyes of his family.
Chapter 1: Eloise
It was a rather normal Tuesday afternoon tea at Bridgerton house. Most of the family was gathered, with the addition of Penelope Featherington, except for Daphne who was at her home at Hastings House, and Colin who had been traveling most of this season.
Eloise was rather wrapped up in a lecture no one in attendance had asked for, on the crimes against women in society. How they should be allowed to attend university just like the men. How their only opportunity in life shouldn't be marriage. How their lives shouldn't be dictated by the whims of the men in their lives.
She had just begun to lament that women should be allowed in parliament. Their voices deserved to be heard!
It was following this new point in Eloise's heated rambling that Penelope suggested Eloise aim to marry a titled lord.
'What?' Eloise was so stunned at the suggestion it completely erased her train of thought.
'Well this way they would have a place in parliament, and you could possibly influence their decisions. While you might not have a place in parliament today, who knows, perhaps one day your daughter or granddaughter might. In the meantime you would need to quietly exert your influence on parliament,' Penelope elaborated.
'Pen are you suggesting I use my feminine wiles to influence a member of parliament?' Eloise was shocked at the idea.
'I'm not sure anyone would consider your wiles of the feminine nature,' Benedict couldn't help himself, and the comment garnered a few chuckles from the family present.
Eloise tossed a pillow at her brother without looking away from Penelope.
'Consider it. You could impart your ideas on not only a member of parliament but their heir. You could raise a future member of parliament to view women as equals.' Penelope had thrown Eloise completely off kilter with her idea.
'Change has to begin somewhere. It doesn't simply happen overnight.'
Eloise is appalled but begins to consider the idea. It might actually have some merit.
"Penelope you may have just given me the most diabolical idea"
Anthony could see the thoughts racing through Eloise's mind. He wasn't sure whether or not he should be worried just yet. For the time being he was just glad the previous lecture on the plight of women in society had come to an end.
"Of course the cost is high,' Eloise continued after some thought. 'I loathe to sacrifice our life together as spinsters in a cottage in the country surrounded by books, but we must all make sacrifices for the cause"
To which Anthony and Benedict rolled their eyes at their spirited sister.
'I understand Eloise. It is quite the sacrifice. But surely it would be worth it to change even one mind in parliament.' Penelope assured Eloise that she would not begrudge her this choice. 'And of course when you consider your ability to influence the next generation as a mother. Well, you surely have to at least consider the option."
Suddenly Eloise is not only considering marriage but the need to have children.
For the cause of course.
Anthony watches Penelope steer his sister from heated rants and lectures on the woes of being a female, towards actually considering marriage. Something everyone else, most notably his mother, had failed to do.
Somehow Penelope managed to paint Eloise as a martyr, sacrificing her personal happiness for the plight of all women.
Eloise had a tendency to be enrapt in her own world, but in that moment she had the look and determination of the heroine in some great epic ready to make the sacrifice that will save her people.
In the silence that follows, as Eloise continues to ponder this idea, Anthony can see the gratitude on Violet's face towards Penelope and the silent thank you she mouths to her.
Suddenly Eloise jumps up, deciding there was more important work to be done, than tea with family.
'Hurry Pen! We must re-evaluate the eligible bachelors of the ton immediately. Obviously our options will be slim, men are predominantly insufferable. But we must find husbands with enough sense to treat women with respect. To listen to their thoughts! On important topics. Topics of parliament!'
"We?" Penelope questioned as she placed her tea on the table.
"Yes of course Pen! I know I'm asking you to sacrifice the peace and solitude of spinsterhood we imagined, but if we both commit to this plan we could influence twice as many minds in Parliament!"
Penelope looked like a poor little rabbit who had somehow been caught by the very wolf it had managed to tease and entice. A trap of her own making.
Eloise grabbed Penelope's hand and pulled her up in a hurry. It's a miracle honestly that she waited until Penelope had set down her tea.
"Come Pen, we don't have any time to lose! Half the season has already passed us by!"
Dragged behind his rather determined sister, Penelope glanced over her shoulder to try to thank Violet for the invitation to tea. As she reached the door, her eyes met Anthony's briefly, and the smirk on her lips as she prepared to indulge his sister in her wild schemes brought a smile to Anthony's own face.
He shook his head at the antics he was sure were to ensue for the remainder of the season.
Turning back to the remaining family members, he had the thought that they were quite lucky that Eloise had found such a wonderful friend in Penelope.
Chapter 2: Benedict
Penelope was waiting for Eloise when Anthony and Benedict entered the drawing room.
'Oh! I was just waiting for Eloise. I can wait elsewhere or head to her room and allow you your privacy.' She offered quickly. Despite always being welcome in Bridgerton House, Penelope always feared the day that she would overstay her welcome.
'Nonsense Penelope! We were just about to order some tea while we decide whether to engage in a round of fencing today or go for a ride. What antics are you and our dear sister going to embark on today?' Benedict enquired with a mischievous smile.
'Nothing quite so interesting I assure you. We planned to visit the book store by the modiste.' Penelope smiled at his suggestion that the two were up to no good.
'If I were to guess I would venture you two alone are responsible for ensuring the shop's success with your pin money.' Benedict teased their bookish behavior.
Penelope giggled a light airy giggle in response.
"Well I certainly won't be spending my pin money on citrus colored ribbons to match these dresses."
She giggled some more as she joked at her own expense.
"Now Penelope, do not disparage these yellow dresses. You are the sun that shines bright after a rainy London morning." Benedict was rather quick to imagine poetic words, destined to leave some debutante or the other swooning.
Penelope began to laugh harder. "Lady Whistledown is correct, you are too charming for your own good."
Benedict laughed at that. "Is that what she says? Well I'm glad my charm has impressed the maker and breaker of society reputations."
Anthony watched the ease of the exchange and not for the first time wished that he had Benedict's penchant for conversation. Anthony didn't think he had ever been so carefree and humorous. Not with anyone, aside from his youngest siblings, Gregory and Hyacinth. But he often felt more father than brother to them, and their happiness weighed on him in a way far more significant than any of his older siblings.
"Have you been to the Granville art exhibition? You must be excited to see the works." It was a polite thing to ask Benedict, what with his interest in art, but something in the way Penelope asked made him think she was genuinely interested in the exhibition, and Benedict's thoughts.
"Not yet, but I have been anxious to see it. I thought I might visit at a time when others are less likely to, so I can truly experience each painting to my heart's content. Without the rush of making way for the next viewer. Or the interruptions from acquaintances who are there simply to seem worldly, while only interested in rubbing elbows with peers. Or worst of all, matchmaking mamas."
He winced at the thought. "I couldn't stand to spend the afternoon dodging debutantes instead."
"Well I do hope you find a suitable time to view the collection soon. I would love to know your thoughts. I'm excited to see for myself, but I must admit I don't believe I will be able to identify the skill that makes Granville renowned compared to other artists." Penelope didn't just sound interested anymore. She clearly was.
"What do you mean, Penelope?" Benedict was delighted to have someone to discuss art with among peers. With his artist friends he always felt a bit of an imposter, and with his family, he wasn't quite sure any of them would engage in a conversation past listening to his thoughts and nodding in agreement.
"Well, I imagine there is much more to the artwork than simply recreating a landscape. If that were the case, there would be plenty of renowned artists, wouldn't there? But something about Henry Granville's work is special. And I'm afraid I'm not familiar with the finer aspects of art to recognize what makes these paintings special. My own watercolors are subpar, so I'm far from having an eye for art."
"Nonsense Penelope, I'm certain with an appreciation for art as you have your watercolors are the best among all the eligible women of the ton."
Penelope giggled at his compliment.
"You're too kind. I actually was thinking to browse the art section at the book shop in the hopes of gaining some knowledge prior to visiting the gallery. If you happen to have any recommendations I would very greatly appreciate it." She said with such sincerity that you could not blame Benedict for his following lapse in judgement.
"Penelope you must let me paint you."
Anthony, who had been lulled into a sense of contentment watching the two discuss art, snapped out of his silent presence to glare at Benedict.
How could he be so inappropriate with an unmarried woman of the ton, while he was also an unmarried man. Of course, Penelope was practically family, she had been for years really. But in the eyes of the ton, she was an unmarried woman, alone in a room with two unmarried men, and no chaperone. And the conversation had turned intimate with Benedict's request.
Penelope for her part simply formed a small "o" with her plump lips in shock at the request.
No, not request. Demand.
Her cheeks began to flush.
She quickly gathered her wits and brushed off what had to be a joke on Benedict's part. She waved her hand as if shooing him away. "Why in the world would you want to paint me?" she said with a small smirk.
Benedict for his part was either oblivious to the inappropriateness of his demand or outright ignoring it. He pursued her, full speed ahead.
"Penelope, such an admirer of the arts deserves to be captured as a work of art herself! I will not know peace until I am able to capture that spark in your eyes when you so lovingly open your mind to the possibilities of the world, in a painting. A sketch. A sculpture if that is what you will allow me!"
"Benedict." Anthony warned. He could not speak to her like this. It wasn't appropriate.
"Ignore my brother. He sadly does not have the eye for beauty that I do. He's so often caught up in ledgers and estate matters, he has no idea of the beauty around him half the time."
Something about that comment rankled Anthony.
"Of course I recognize that Penelope is beautiful." The flush in her cheeks grew, he noticed. "However you are both unmarried and unchaperoned. And this is a most inappropriate request to make Benedict."
"Nonsense, you are currently our chaperone." Benedict, truly was determined in this.
Anthony held back a growl. Benedict was not incorrect. Anthony could be considered their chaperone. But he could not shake the feeling that Benedict was crossing some line between good natured conversation and flirtation with Penelope. It left him agitated.
Penelope gave a small nervous giggle, clearly trying to diffuse the tension coming from Anthony, and worried herself about the impropriety. Not that anyone in the Bridgerton household would ever ruin her by sharing this occurrence with someone outside the family. But she had been raised with better manners, and Anthony's clear disapproval had her squirming. Even though she didn't seem to be the direct target of his ire.
"I'm afraid Lady Whistledown will have to reassess her opinion of you." She paused. "You aren't too charming for your own good but dangerously charming. I'm afraid your charm alone will ruin some poor unassuming debutante."
Benedict laughed a big belly laugh at that. "Have no fear Penelope, that would require me to be in the presence of a debutante long enough to exchange words."
"Well then I'm relieved for the unmarried women of the ton." Anthony watched her place her hand over her ample bosom. Her heart. She placed her hand over her heart, dramatically, as if truly relieved of some great anxiety.
"Their hearts are safe." Penelope then paused. "For now."
And there was that little smirk again.
Once again Penelope had managed to diffuse the tension and coerce one of his siblings away from a dangerous pursuit. She made it look positively effortless.
Anthony was beginning to think Penelope understood his own siblings, better than he did.
Just then Eloise arrived.
"I'm so sorry Pen! I was just finishing up some correspondence but then became rather distracted."
"That's alright Eloise. Mr. Sutton will no doubt be relieved that he can open his shop in peace before we barge in to peruse the shelves." She had already reached Eloise by the door and turned to bid Anthony and Benedict a good day when Benedict cut in.
"Penelope wait! Let me jot down a few books on the subject of art I think you may enjoy. It's not often I am asked for a recommendation. I would be remiss to pass up the opportunity. But in exchange, you must join our family at the gallery."
"Why are you trying to take my best friend to the gallery?" Eloise was as possessive as ever.
Benedict simply rolled his eyes.
"My dear sister, wouldn't you rather see the gallery with your best friend?"
"Well of course." She looked skeptical.
"And I would rather discuss the artwork with Penelope, given her genuine interest in the arts. So in this way we shall have a nice family outing. Mother will have her favorite daughter, Penelope, join us for tea after. And I will have someone to discuss the gallery collection with, who does not simply nod in agreement to everything I say. We all win!"
Anthony watched a blush color Penelope's cheeks at Benedict referring to her as their mother's favorite daughter.
Somehow he didn't feel Benedict was exaggerating or continuing to use his charm to make Penelope uncomfortable.
Eloise sighed forcefully and relented that this was a rather perfect idea.
"Excellent! Let me fetch a bit of parchment to make note of those books for you Penelope."
And with that Benedict stepped out of the drawing room with an innocent bit of joy that Anthony had not seen in a while. Eloise begrudgingly turned to follow Benedict out of the drawing room.
Anthony had been so silent in watching the exchange that it was obvious his siblings had forgotten he was even there.
Penelope, however, turned to him and bowed her head, giving him a small curtsy and a soft "good day Lord Bridgerton," before following Eloise out of the drawing room. The flush on her cheeks from all the attention dimming and a small smile forming at the upcoming visit to the gallery no doubt.
Anthony, who was a bit dazed by how soft her smile was, did not gather his wits quick enough to give a farewell in reply. He shook his head at his lack of manners. Forget having Benedict's charm, he was beginning to struggle even with the basics of polite conversation.
Perhaps Benedict was right and he was too often caught up in ledgers and estate matters.
Suddenly a visit to the gallery seemed like just what he needed.
Chapter 3: Daphne
Summary:
It was another afternoon at Bridgerton House, only this time Daphne was in attendance with her young son, August. The addition of Auggie brought an additional buzz to the family gathering. And once again, Penelope was in attendance, quietly wishing her family could have a similar love between them, and considering herself lucky to be invited into this home at the least.
Eloise, newly obsessed with the idea of secretly infiltrating Parliament as a wife and mother, shares the epiphany that she could start molding young male minds even before she has her own children, starting with her nephew.
Even Penelope, who has been subject to many conversations about this new scheme, is surprised at just how willing Eloise is to suddenly step out of her comfort zone.
Of all the Bridgerton siblings, Eloise is the least comfortable with babies. It's as if Daphne took every desire to have children that existed and left Eloise with an uncomfortable fear of so much as holding a baby.
Anthony and Benedict, knowing this, share a look that says they are only too eager to see how this all unfolds.
Violet, not wanting to douse the growing interest her most reluctant daughter has about marriage and children, encourages Eloise to take Auggie and perhaps read to him.
Eloise hesitates to hold him but decides that in order to be an aunt the children can trust and whose opinion they can respect, she must make the effort to connect with them. Even at a young age.
Daphne who is exhausted and could use a break, even though she doesn't want to admit it, indulges Eloise's scheming to make her nephew empathetic to the plight of women long before he takes over for his father in Parliament one day.
"Wonderful idea Eloise. I'm touched to see you so invested in your nephew's well being and upbringing."
She goes to hold Auggie, not quite sure how to do it. She grabs him under his arms and holds him almost a foot away from her body.
Auggie for his part, takes one look at Eloise, and probably sensing her discomfort and uncertainty, starts to squirm.
Eloise realizes the need to hold Auggie more comfortably, lest her arms give out under the weight of the growing baby, but is at a complete loss for how to change the way she is holding him without possibly dropping him or rustling his neck and limbs in a most indelicate way.
Auggie meets Eloise's eyes while squirming and pauses for just one moment before wailing loudly.
Eloise is suddenly frantic. Not sure what to do with the wailing child, meanwhile the hold she has on her nephew quickly draining what little muscle she has in her arms.
Her eyes dart around, not wanting to hand Auggie back to Daphne in defeat, but also not wanting to risk dropping him as her arms wilt under the continued hold. When did her nephew get so heavy? How had he grown so quickly?
In her panic, she sees Penelope, and decides her partner in crime can help her through this ordeal. After all, they will be molding these children's minds together!
Anthony watches as Eloise practically throws Auggie at Penelope.
Violet begins to rise from her seat and Daphne looks ready to murder Eloise if anything happens to her child.
But it's all for naught. Penelope manages to catch Auggie from Eloise's less than graceful hand off, and naturally swings the baby onto her left hip while wrapping her left arm around his back, and placing her right hand under Auggie's arm to keep him up.
Penelope freezes, simply watching and holding Auggie as the little one seems to take in his new position with this new person.
Just as he looks up at Penelope's face, she manages to snap out of it and give Auggie the brightest smile. The whole room seemed brighter actually.
Anthony watched as Penelope began to sway gently with Auggie still on her hip, making little half circles back and forth with her left hip.
"It's alright. There's nothing to be upset about." Somehow, despite her soft volume, Anthony caught her soothing voice across the table and in his seat as he watched Penelope distract Auggie from another round of wailing.
"It's such a beautiful day. And you have so many lovely family members here, excited to see you. There's nothing to worry about, is there?" Penelope continued to speak to Auggie as if he understood any of what she was saying. Her slow swaying with Auggie attached at her hip, seemed to lull the child into a quiet curiosity.
Auggie just looked at Penelope as if he was trying to figure out what she was saying.
His Uncle Anthony found himself just as mesmerized.
He watched the way Auggie was settled on Penelope's hip and thought her curves must be the softest. Made for children to find comfort when clinging to their mother.
He shook his head quickly to clear that line of thought, before he found himself thinking about the comfort those same lush curves could bring in the making of said children.
Daphne let out a sigh of relief and sank back onto the couch she had jumped out of just a moment ago in order to save Auggie from her less than gentle sister.
Eloise, for all of her audacity, simply brushed off her almost mishap with their nephew and simply stepped closer to Penelope as she held Auggie.
"Excellent Pen! You'll be a natural with the children when they're younger. We'll shape their impressionable young minds in no time!"
If Anthony hadn't been so distracted by the thought of Penelope with a few young children surrounding her in want of her attention, he would have met Benedict with another look at Eloise's assumption at the use of "we" in that statement.
But Anthony didn't meet Benedict's look with his own. And Benedict certainly wasn't going to forget the look on his brother's face as he watched Penelope with the baby anytime soon.
Benedict couldn't remember the last time Anthony had a look of longing on his face like this one. He got the sense that the days of their joined bachelorhood were numbered. Anthony had been an amazing father figure to their youngest siblings, despite being thrust into the role in a way none of them had ever imagined. But in that moment, Benedict didn't think he sensed any resentment in Anthony over his circumstances, but instead a longing to have children of his own.
"Well, at least if Daphne is to join us at the gallery, we know Penelope will have no trouble at all soothing Auggie should he dislike one of the landscapes," Benedict chuckled.
"Oh I would be happy to help with Auggie! How could the paintings of Henry Granville ever compare to this beautiful baby here." Penelope continued to coo at the baby as she swayed, even adding a bit of a bounce in her hip as she rocked him. The gentle voice she used clearly putting Auggie at ease and the bounce in her hip making him giggle.
Daphne of course melted at the compliment to her little baby, who was the light of her life.
And Anthony. Well, luckily with the conversation turning towards the visit to the gallery, no one noticed that his gaze remained on Penelope's hip.
Auggie leaned his head in and rested it on Penelope's shoulder, snuggling his face into the crook of her neck.
"Ohhh!" Violet sighed and clasped her hands in front of her heart as she watched her grandchild cuddle in the sweetest manner.
Daphne looked on with a sense of relief and adoration as she realized there was someone she could trust Auggie with. It certainly wasn't Eloise.
Penelope stopped her bouncing and continued to sway. Soon enough Auggie would be asleep.
"Well it's obvious Auggie has already picked his favorite aunt." Benedict teased Eloise.
Eloise, as much as she wanted to smack Benedict for his teasing, also couldn't miss an opportunity to praise her best friend, so she chose to not give in to Benedict's antagonizing words.
"Well of course. Auggie has incredible taste, and Penelope is the best." Then she continued because she simply couldn't help her possessive nature. "Just so long as he remembers that Aunt Penelope is Aunt Eloise's best friend first."
Something about that comment shocked Anthony and he suddenly sat up straight. He hadn't even noticed when he leaned in to watch Penelope with Auggie, sitting with his elbows on his knees and his face resting in his palm.
Throughout the exchange Penelope continued her swaying and it seemed that Auggie had been lulled into a nap.
"Penelope I cannot thank you enough. It takes quite a bit of effort for Auggie to nap in the afternoon but today I didn't have to lift a finger!"
"Oh it was nothing. He's such a sweet baby, I'm glad I could help." Penelope continued in that soft soothing voice. Ensuring Auggie stayed sleeping.
"Daphne darling, why don't you take Auggie upstairs before Gregory and Hyacinth's antics wake him. And you can have a bit of a lie down as well. Lord knows a new mother never gets enough sleep." Violet, always looking after her children, knew Daphne would feel insufficient if Violet suggested she looked particularly tired.
"Oh but then I won't get a chance to catch up with you all." Daphne felt a small pang of guilt at the idea of missing an opportunity to spend time with her family. Though she didn't live far, it felt so different from when she lived at home. Her time with them suddenly limited in a way it had never been before.
"Nonsense! You'll stay for dinner and we shall catch up then. But you really should rest while you can with Auggie. You never know how long a baby will nap for, and we are all here to help when he wakes." Violet insisted, already rising from her seat to nudge her daughter upstairs.
Daphne, for all her reluctance, held out her arms to take her son from Penelope so that she could take him upstairs for the rest of his nap.
"You'll stay for dinner as well, won't you Penelope? It's been so long since I've had the chance to see you."
"I'm afraid I won't be able to today. I believe Mama has invited over some family she hopes will make a match with Prudence. But I would be happy to come visit and read to Auggie any time you wish." Penelope turned down the invitation in the politest of ways, but you could sense that she would truly rather be here at Bridgerton House rather than at a dinner with her scheming Mama.
Anthony also would prefer Penelope was here for dinner and seemed to deflate at her announcement that she would not be able to stay.
Simply because her presence brought so much joy to his family. And now comfort to his little nephew as well. Of course he would want whatever brought his family happiness. And that would mean Penelope's presence at dinner.
So Anthony did what he always did, determined to bring his family whatever happiness he could.
"We shall have to plan that outing to the gallery soon then," he announced. All eyes turned to Anthony who had remained fairly quiet this entire time, letting the women chat and fill the time as he normally did.
When the eyes on him turned questioning, he hastened to add, "so that Daphne has more time with the family and a moment to catch up with her friend. And Auggie can spend more time with his favorite aunt of course." He added that last comment, in a way that his family would imagine was meant to tease Eloise. Similar to what Benedict had done earlier.
If the comment also reminded Anthony that Penelope was practically family, and therefore off limits, well then, no one, least of all his family, needed to know it. He would never hear the end of it if they so much as caught a glimpse of the way he was beginning to admire his sister's friend.
Later that evening at dinner, the Bridgertons were their usual boisterous self.
Gregory and Hyacinth were in an ongoing battle to one up each other. Benedict and Eloise mostly discussed various topics, their conversation sprinkled with well aimed barbs at one another. Daphne, Violet, and Francesca were all enamored with baby Auggie. Simon had also joined for dinner when Daphne sent word she and Auggie would remain at Bridgerton House later than originally planned, giving Anthony someone to chat with while the rest of his family was otherwise occupied.
"Resting today with Auggie was a relief. Thank you so much for insisting Mother." Daphne did seem more relaxed than she had when she arrived for tea this afternoon.
"Of course dear. I remember too well how little sleep a new mother gets. Although I'm afraid as the children get older you begin to lose sleep over their debuts and marriage prospects instead." Violet gave a light chuckle at her own teasing of her children.
All of her unmarried children of age renewed their conversations with increased vigor, hoping to steer the conversation away from their mother's attempts to see another one of her children happily married.
Thankfully Daphne helped in that regard.
"Oh! I was also thinking I would like to get a gift for Penelope. She really was so wonderful with Auggie, and she seemed truly eager to help with him. She even offered to visit and read to him whenever I wish," she added for Simon's benefit.
"She really is a darling girl," Violet added.
"And I do love whenever someone dotes on Auggie," Daphne continued, as if she needed to make the case for why Penelope deserved a gift.
The Bridgerton family in particular would never argue that Penelope didn't deserve nice things. In fact, if they were asked they would all most likely argue she deserved many more nice things than she currently received.
"Eloise, do you have any suggestions for what I could give Penelope as a token of appreciation? She is your best friend after all." This was rather clever of Daphne to acknowledge Eloise's claim over Penelope before Eloise could become possessive. Instead, Eloise was all too happy to have someone else exclaim how wonderful and deserving her best friend was. It was almost as if Eloise had a hand in molding just how wonderful Penelope was herself.
Before Eloise could reply, Benedict cut in.
"A book on art! She rather admires the arts and was looking to increase her knowledge before our trip to the gallery."
Eloise glared at Benedict for beating her in the race to suggest a gift for her best friend. True to the Bridgerton siblings' competitive nature, everything was a competition. Even this.
"Yes, well I believe Penelope already bought the books you recommended on our last trip to the book shop. So that seems a rather useless idea Benedict." Eloise was determined to suggest the perfect gift for Penelope now. She wouldn't be bested by Benedict when it came to her best friend.
"There are a few authors that Penelope adores though, and I could see if any have new novels that - "
"A dress."
Every set of eyes at the table snapped to Anthony, when he interrupted Eloise.
The silence was so out of place at the Bridgerton dinner table that Anthony cleared his throat, in a small attempt to end the screeching halt the conversation had come to.
He wasn't sure what had come over him, but he needed to rid himself of this sudden nervousness and commit to the idea he had shared with the entire table.
"A dress would be a nice gift. She doesn't seem to have much say in the dresses she wears. She's certainly joked about those god awful yellow dresses. But if you were to gift her a more fashionable dress, her mother couldn't risk insulting a duchess by not letting Penelope wear it could she?"
Anthony's explanation spilled out of him, and suddenly he felt embarrassed by the amount of thought he had put into his idea. He prayed his mother didn't look too deeply into it.
"Oh that's a wonderful idea Anthony! Lady Featherington really does her daughter a disservice. Her dresses never complement her colouring." Violet, thank the lord, didn't seem to press Anthony's interest in the discussion. He could only be relieved that she wouldn't try to make his interest in the gift for Penelope more than it was.
She was a good friend of the family. She of course deserved a nice gift.
He was only doing his job as the head of the family to maintain the family's closest relationships in a positive manner.
"Oh I would so enjoy picking out a dress for Penelope! Eloise would you want to join me?" Daphne looked as if she already had picked out a whole wardrobe, let alone a single dress.
Eloise for her part hated going to the modiste, but would loathe to miss an opportunity to do something nice for her best friend. It was already bad enough that while she had been worried about beating Benedict, Anthony had somehow won the race in suggesting a suitable present for Penelope. If she wasn't so irritated at losing, she might have considered Anthony's interest more closely.
"All right. But only because she's my best friend, and I'm sure to know what she likes and dislikes best."
"Of course." Daphne assured her with just a tinge of sarcasm. Eloise really was territorial when it came to Penelope. You would think the family was going to kidnap the poor girl away from Eloise the moment she looked away.
"Be sure to purchase a few new dresses for yourself as well dear, while you are at the modiste." Simon chimed in, knowing Daphne was sure to end up doing just that. With his comment though he managed to use the inevitable to paint himself as a doting husband.
Anthony rolled his eyes at his best friend. He would never be comfortable that his baby sister had gone and married best friend. His partner in crime. Very many, rakish crimes.
He wasn't possessive of Simon the way Eloise was of Penelope, but there were some lines you didn't cross. Some things that should be off limits, like your best friend's siblings.
His mind hiccupped at what that meant for Penelope, and for a moment he couldn't believe that he was of a mind to agree with Eloise's possessive nature.
He shook the thought, and the odd sense of disappointment, away. The disappointment must be from being in any type of agreement with Eloise. Surely he was going mad.
The only silver lining to Simon's comment, as much as it annoyed Anthony, was that it diverted attention to the young married couple at the table, and away from Anthony's surprisingly good idea for Penelope's gift.
He couldn't risk his family putting more meaning into than there was. He would never hear the end of it otherwise.
Chapter 4: Gregory
Eloise, still determined to make the most of her plan to quietly infiltrate the minds of Parliament, decided she needed to prepare to dance. With actual suitors. She looked pained to even say it when she shared this next step in her plan, but insisted you catch more flies with honey.
While this was sage advice for a young lady on the marriage mart, coming from Eloise it also pointed to her genuine disgust with the male population. If it wasn't already clear from her tone, her family would have been certain her comparison of men to flies was indicative of her desire to rather swat them away than catch them.
Of course, this step in the plan not only involved her best friend and partner in crime, Penelope, but in this instance also required the assistance of her brother Benedict. She needed someone to practice with who would know how to lead.
She also recruited Francesca to play the piano forte, which honestly wasn't much of a task as it was Francesca's favorite pastime.
The things Eloise was willing to do in order to marry someone who would listen to her ideas and bring them to parliament continued to astound her family. Especially her mother.
But Violet wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Whatever the reason for Eloise to take her place on the marriage mart seriously, Violet would take it.
Francesca sat at the piano forte, itching to begin playing while Benedict and Eloise readied themselves.
Violet, not wanting Eloise to be quickly discouraged, takes pity on her unique daughter, and decides now is a good time for Gregory to learn as well. She rather hoped with Gregory learning as well, it would divert some of the attention away from Eloise so she can actually relax as she practices and help her feel less foolish in comparison.
With Francesca responsible for the music and Hyacinth also not having learned the dances yet, that left Penelope to partner with Gregory.
Gregory wasn't exactly excited about dancing, but it's not often he gets to partake in an activity with his older siblings, often left to play with Hyacinth. He finds himself going along with the dance lesson, if only to take an opportunity to be part of the older siblings' world.
Penelope, sensing his hesitation, decides to provide a little motivation for the youngest Bridgerton gentlemen.
'You're rather lucky to have such an expert charmer for a dance instructor Gregory. At this rate you'll have all the debutantes fawning over you when you begin to attend balls. The other bachelor's won't stand a chance.'
The suggestion that Gregory would be fawned over like his older brothers did the trick. Gregory perked up just a bit.
Benedict, noticing what Penelope was aiming for, chimed in. 'Gregory is a Bridgerton, Penelope. He doesn't need me, his charm will be natural. It's in the blood.' He winked at his youngest brother, and at that Gregory stood just a little bit taller.
'Okay, ready? Let's see where we are.' Benedict nodded to Francesca to begin playing so he could assess just how much practice Eloise would need.
Eloise, despite all her fearlessness, was suddenly shy with her family's eyes on her. It wasn't as if she hadn't learned to dance cotillion before, but she had never actually had to do it with a potential suitor, as she had spent most of her time actively dodging them. Suddenly with higher hopes weighing on her ability to dance she became unsure.
She stumbled through the motions. Honestly, she didn't seem much better than Gregory who was trying to follow along and imitate Benedict's movements, but by the nature of his copying Benedict he was always one step behind where he should be with the music.
Benedict decided to put both parties out of their misery and asked Francesca to stop the music.
'Perhaps we should start a bit slower. A quick refresh on the steps. And this way I can better show Gregory as well.'
His suggestion was well received, both Eloise and Gregory nodding their heads in agreement. Their eyes visibly relaxing.
'Let's show them how it's done, Penelope,' Benedict held out his hand. Penelope, despite being caught off guard at the invitation to dance with Benedict, quickly recovered and put her hand in his.
Slowly they made their way through the steps, pausing so that Benedict could describe his and Penelope's movements to his nervous students.
It was during this bit of the lesson that Anthony walked into the drawing room.
'Don't tell me I spent all that money on a dance instructor just for us to end up with Benedict needing to teach everyone.' Anthony's teasing stopped them in their tracks.
Benedict, not to be cowed by his brother's teasing, grasped the opportunity to torment Anthony. The opportunities to do so were few and far between. He couldn't possibly pass such a rare opportunity, could he?
'Perfect brother! You can help Eloise practice for the next ball. We must do everything we can to help our sister find a suitable match. Isn't that right, mother?'
Knowing how desperate Violet was to make the most of the season while Eloise was still amiable to the idea of marriage, Anthony knew he couldn't decline to 'help' as Benedict had suggested.
He grumbled at how easily he had walked into Benedict's trap, and made a silent prayer for his toes. He would be spending the next hour dancing with his least skilled sister. And that was including Hyacinth, who didn't even know the dances.
He sighed and made his way over to Eloise. Catching the look of amusement between Benedict and Penelope.
In that moment, he decided he would do everything he could to switch partners with Benedict.
Luckily, it wasn't the torment Anthony anticipated. He slowly moved through the steps with Eloise as Benedict described them. Benedict and Penelope similarly moved through the steps beside them.
Hyacinth had also dragged Gregory into the fray so that they could learn. The things one had to endure for their sister.
'Alright let's try again but this time rather than explain the steps I'll simply count them.'
Eloise tensed at Benedict's suggestion. It was rather sweet seeing his headstrong sister so shaken by a simple dance.
Anthony gave Eloise a small reassuring squeeze and she looked up at him in a way she hadn't in years. As if she needed his protection.
Suddenly the idea that another one of his baby sisters was going to have suitors was terrifying. He almost ended the lessons there for everyone for the chance to have Eloise remain his extremely trying sister forever.
He couldn't continue, lest he risk getting overly emotional in front of everyone.
'Benedict why don't we switch partners. Eloise might feel more confident in the patient hands of her new instructor, rather than her serious older brother.'
It was a weak excuse but he would use anything in this moment to avoid the emotions threatening to over take him.
'I can dance with you Anthony!' Hyacinth offered.
'No!' The word slipped from his mouth much sharper than he intended. If the thought of Eloise leaving home to begin a new life with her husband was threatening to make him emotional before his family, he would never hold himself together imagining the day Hyacinth was dancing with suitors.
Hyacinth looked a bit hurt at his refusal, and Gregory was already moving towards Penelope.
'You and Gregory will do well to practice together since you are both still learning. I'll partner with Penelope. That way you can all see what a proper cotillion should look like,' he added with all of the viscount smugness he could muster in the moment.
Benedict and Eloise rolled their eyes at their eldest brother's haughtiness. Gregory glanced again towards Penelope and Anthony had to wonder whether the youngest Bridgerton found himself infatuated with their family friend.
Hyacinth, god bless her, was determined to learn this dance with everyone else and agreed quickly so they could commence with the lessons.
'Perhaps Francesca would like to practice as well? It is her first season and I'm sure her dance card will be full at the upcoming balls.'
Anthony couldn't help but tense at Penelope's suggestion. Before he could think about why he wanted to partner with Penelope so desperately he refuted her suggestion.
'No, Francesca is needed to play the music.'
'But we are practicing without music now aren't we,' Penelope countered.
Why didn't she want to dance with him?
'Yes but if we are to set an example for the young ones, the more experienced dancers should partner.' He persisted desperately.
Benedict simply raised an eyebrow at Anthony.
Eloise was too busy trying to recall the steps in her mind to notice the desperation in Anthony's voice.
Why was he so desperate to have her dance with him?
'I would hardly consider myself an experienced dancer,' Penelope chuckled. 'One would need a signed dance card to gain some experience first.' She giggled at the joke made at her own expense.
This had Anthony frowning, his brow impossibly furrowed.
What did she mean she needed a signed dance card? Hadn't he seen her on the dancefloor at numerous balls? He could remember his brother Colin at least joining her on the dancefloor. Surely he couldn't have been the only one.
'Well then it seems you could benefit from the practice as well.' And with that he held out his hand for her to take, putting an end to any further argument.
Benedict and Violet watched the exchange and gave each other a look regarding Anthony's odd behavior.
Quick to test a theory, Benedict chimed in.
'Why don't you show us how it's done then brother. Francesca, could you begin the music again?'
Anthony brought Penelope closer, feeling her tense. Maybe she really wasn't as experienced as he would have expected despite having debuted a season before Eloise.
He gave her a small reassuring squeeze. Just as he had for Eloise. Because Penelope was like one of his sisters. She needed a protector just as they did.
Penelope wasn't as fortunate as his sisters though, having no close male relative to look out for her. He could offer whatever protection he was able to. It was his duty to support a good family friend.
She looked up at him nervously and quickly looked away again. Anthony decided to hold her a little tighter, hoping to reassure her as the first small squeeze might have. It had nothing to do with how soft she felt in his arms.
Francesca began to play and Anthony began to move, leading Penelope through the steps.
For all she joked about her lack of experience, Penelope was an exceptionally graceful dancer. When she finally looked up and met his eyes, looking a bit more confident than when she first put her hand in his, he fought the urge to hold her even closer.
He couldn't forget his family was watching. Even with them present, ensuring they were well and thoroughly chaperoned, the way he was holding her was surely bordering on inappropriate.
If he wasn't so distracted by the blush that was appearing on her freckled cheeks, he might have noticed the exchanges between Benedict and Violet.
Eloise, so focused on learning the steps, didn't seem to notice the way her brother was mesmerized by her best friend.
Gregory seemed to be looking at Penelope with a new fondness as well. Hyacinth, always more in tune with everyone's feelings than anyone would have guessed, watched the two dance as if they were in one of the romances young girls liked to read about.
The music came to an end and Anthony seemed hesitant to let Penelope go, looking a bit startled when she stepped away.
'You aren't nearly as inexperienced as you implied Penelope. Thank you for helping me show Benedict's students how a cotillion should look,' he quickly tried to add some levity to the moment by bringing back some of that viscount smugness. Somehow he seemed a little less sure and a little more breathless than before they began their dance. But that was completely normal. He must have just been winded from dancing.
Penelope, with the softest blush on her cheeks seemed to be handling the moment with more grace.
'Thank you. If I have passed your assessment then perhaps we can partner with Gregory and Hyacinth. That way they have a more experienced partner to help them learn.' Penelope looked back at his youngest siblings, and Hyacinth looked grateful for the chance to dance with her eldest brother, while Gregory perked up at the chance to partner with Penelope.
Anthony couldn't refuse this time, and part of him was grateful to Penelope for bringing a smile to his youngest siblings' faces. Hyacinth was practically beaming. Gregory he may have to keep an eye on. It looked as if his youngest brother was well on his way towards his first heartbreak.
The thought left him when Hyacinth skipped to stand in front of him ready to dance, and Gregory, trying to emulate his older brothers' swagger, walked over to Penelope and held out his hand like the perfect little gentlemen.
Anthony was quite proud actually, until Penelope smiled at Gregory and commented to Benedict that he was right and Gregory was certainly going to be a natural when it came to charming debutantes.
Gregory blushed at the compliment.
How was it that Penelope knew exactly what to say to even his youngest, most beguiling siblings?
'What did I tell you, it's in the Bridgerton blood,' Benedict waggled his eyebrows at her to emphasize the point.
'Can we please get back to practicing before I forget everything I learned?' Eloise demanded.
With that the lessons recommenced, with Gregory and Hyacinth learning alongside Eloise. Benedict slowly picked up the speed with which he counted the steps, and soon Francesca was tasked with providing the music again.
Somehow the time passed rather quickly, as Anthony focused on practicing the dance with his youngest sister. Only occasionally sneaking a glance at Penelope, who had sparked a confidence in Gregory during their practice that he hadn't seen before.
Anthony began to wonder how the Bridgertons became so lucky as to have such a good family friend.
Chapter 5: Hyacinth
The visit to the gallery was finally here. Benedict did a super job organizing the outing, choosing a day and time where there was likely to be very little traffic at the art exhibition.
While not a private tour, the Bridgertons, joined by Penelope, had the gallery practically to themselves. Daphne was relieved to think that should Auggie get upset, there would be few visitors disturbed by the baby's crying. It also helped that Violet and Francesca were beside her, more than willing to lend a hand. Penelope had also offered to help, but Violet insisted she go and enjoy the gallery, reminding her how excited Benedict was to discuss the paintings with her.
Eloise, not wanting to risk another less than successful interaction with Auggie, quickly whisked her best friend away at her mother's suggestion.
Gregory and Hyacinth, excited for a family outing they could partake in, latched on to Anthony. They were both so full of energy and their conversation jumped and leapt from the artwork to any odd thought that happened to pop into their head and back to the artwork.
Anthony would have struggled to keep up but the two were just so happy to share all of their thoughts with him that he didn't really need to contribute much in response. Between the two there were few pauses for him to get a word in.
His smile dimmed when he realized there would be a day soon where he would truly miss an opportunity like this one. Gregory would be off to Eton and Hyacinth would likely be busy preparing for her debut. Given the chaos Hyacinth was capable of he could already imagine his mother would have her hands full.
His wistful train of thought was interrupted when he looked ahead and saw Eloise and Penelope, arm in arm, following Benedict through the gallery. He felt the urge to join them and found his footsteps moving forward faster than what would suggest at least a minimal perusal of the artwork in the gallery.
Luckily, Gregory and Hyacinth were bouncing towards the other group and it appeared that he was hurrying after his siblings to keep an eye on them. You would have to be a fool to underestimate the trouble those two could cause together.
If the two happened to close the distance between their two smaller groups, well then Anthony could keep an eye on all of his siblings together. It was a matter of effectiveness really. With so many matters to attend to, including more than a handful of siblings, you learned to truly value efficiency.
Yea that's what it was. Efficiency.
As he caught up to the others he noticed Penelope looking up to Benedict as if he was a master of his craft.
What could he possibly do to earn a look like that from someone like Penelope?
'Have any of the artworks thus far been cause for inspiration for your own artwork, Mr. Bridgerton?'
Anthony heard the question from Penelope and wondered if there was any subject she couldn't converse on. He knew Eloise and Penelope spent most of their time pouring over books, often hiding away in the library or borrowing copies from one another. This was the first time he was witnessing just how well read Penelope was.
Benedict was grinning from ear to ear, thoroughly enjoying the attention.
'While I do paint landscapes often enough, I'm more intrigued by capturing the human element in my artwork. Which is why I must once again beg. No, plead. No, implore you, Miss Featherington, to be my muse just once.'
'Benedict,' Anthony glared. They were in a public place.
'Why are you two being so formal? Mr. Bridgerton is far too serious to ever refer to Benedict. And this is Penelope. Why are you suddenly calling her Miss Featherington?' Hyacinth made a face as if the reminder that Penelope was, in fact, a Featherington left a terrible taste in her mouth.
Anthony thought he understood the feeling but hoped that it didn't show on his face quite as plainly as it did on Hyacinth's.
'Well, we are in a public space, so we must follow etiquette more strictly than we do at Bridgerton House. It would be inappropriate for me to refer to your brother by his Christian name.' Penelope explained.
'I don't think I could call Benedict Mr. Bridgerton. Not without feeling like I was telling a joke.' Leave it to Hyacinth to knock her brothers down a peg or two.
'Here here,' agreed Eloise.
Penelope giggled that light giggle that was like music at Hyacinth's remarks. 'Lucky for you, you can call your brother by his name and it would not be inappropriate.'
'Well that's silly. You're practically family. It shouldn't be inappropriate for you to call him Benedict either.' Hyacinth sounded as if she was arming herself for battle. Against who was unclear, as no one present was personally responsible for the rules placed upon them by society.
Penelope of course was not phased. She didn't even seem to be the slightest bit concerned at the potential storm brewing beneath the surface. When Hyacinth was unhappy about something she had no qualms about trying to change it. Polite society be damned.
'That is very sweet of you to say Hyacinth, and I am so lucky that your family has loved me as if I was a part of it. But unfortunately, I am not actually family by society's standards. So at least when we are in public we shall have to abide by certain rules.'
Hyacinth wasn't one to give up so easily and without hesitation asserted, 'We'll just have to formally make you a member of the family then. You could marry one of our brothers.'
Anthony should have seen this coming. Hyacinth was rather determined and too blunt for certain out of all of his siblings. And yet, he found himself frozen at Hyacinth's comment and terrified to know what Penelope would think.
'You're right Hyacinth. I'll marry you Miss Featherington.' This coming from Gregory.
At that Anthony had to pinch the bridge of his nose in an attempt to fend off the headache his siblings seemed to be hell bent on giving him.
'I'm afraid you're a bit too young for Penelope to marry Gregory. She'll need to be married before you finish at Eton and definitely before you finish university.' Thank god Benedict interjected. Anthony wasn't sure he could have explained to Gregory without shattering his heart. Benedict was much better at protecting feelings when delivering bad news.
'Why would she have to rush? Anthony is much older and he isn't married yet.' Anthony could feel his ears begin to burn. How did the conversation turn towards his delay in marrying? How was he going to explain to Gregory that he absolutely could not marry Penelope?
'Excellent point Gregory! This is one more way society has deemed to burden women. Providing us with much less time to find an acceptable spouse while men have the freedom to enjoy the bachelor life with no end in sight.'
Just what they needed. Another lecture on the injustices to women in our society from Eloise. In the middle of the gallery no less.
Anthony chanced a quick glance at Penelope and noted the blush across her cheeks. Clearly all the attention from his siblings was making her uncomfortable. He had to move them along. Anything to move them away from this conversation.
'Why don't we continue to explore the gallery? And maybe we can find some artwork with the human element you find to be more interesting Mr. Bridgerton.'
Once again, Penelope had the situation in hand, despite her obvious discomfort at Hyacinth's suggestion and Gregory's offer.
'Excellent idea Miss Featherington. Perhaps then I might even convince you to possibly pose for me, at least for a quick sketch.'
'Benedict,' this time Anthony practically growled at his brother.
Truly his siblings were a circus. One brother was begging her to be his muse. One sister was scheming to have her marry into the family. Another brother was already offering for her hand in marriage. And another sister was hell bent on dragging her along in a scheme to infiltrate Parliament in some absurd marriage minded coup d'etat.
Thank god Colin was traveling. He didn't think he could handle it if there was one more vessel for chaos in this gallery that he was personally responsible for.
'Why don't we save posing for sketches until tea this afternoon? Having more than one person pose would make for a more interesting scene wouldn't it? We could see how long we can play statues for, while your brother practices capturing the human element. What do you think, Hyacinth? The first to move loses.'
Penelope Featherington was simply marvelous.
There was no other way to describe the way she guided the subject away from marriage, found a way to entertain his idiot brother's request in a more appropriate manner, and distract his youngest siblings with the one thing they couldn't resist: competition.
Maybe Eloise was right. Women did belong in parliament. Penelope Featherington certainly did.
'Oh I'm certain I could stay still longer than any of you. Or we could skip these games and you could just marry Benedict. Then it wouldn't be inappropriate for him to sketch you!' Hyacinth truly could not be stopped.
He needed to make sure Penelope didn't marry Benedict. He needed to refute this idea before Hyacinth mentioned it in front of their mother.
'Pen cannot marry Benedict, Hyacinth. She needs to marry someone titled so that we can bring the men with power in parliament to our side.' As an after thought Eloise added, 'sorry brother,' to an amused Benedict.
'That's quite alright El. I shall be broken hearted but it is a small price to pay in the hopes of giving women a place in parliament.' He swung his arm around his younger brother and pulled him close. "At least I'll have Gregory. We can be broken-hearted together.' To emphasize the point, Benedict gave Penelope and Eloise big sad eyes. He might have even batted his lashes at them.
'She could marry Anthony then. He's a lord. And they looked so beautiful dancing together.'
Good god, he was going to commit fratricide today.
'Excellent idea Hyacinth. We would certainly be one step closer to letting women into parliament with Anthony on our side.'
He was going to commit fratricide against Benedict first, for certain.
'That doesn't make sense. Anthony is already on our side. I can influence him while we're at home as his sister. We need to find different lords. Ones who don't already have strong women to influence them.'
Anthony should have rolled his eyes at the influence Eloise thought she had over him but instead he was too terrified imagining what Penelope could be thinking right now.
He looked to his right to gauge how she was reacting.
The blush on her cheeks from before had spread down her neck to her collarbone. She was flushed all over. At least to the neckline of her gown. He wondered if her skin would be flushed even further.
He had to get a hold of himself. He was a gentleman. He had to focus on saving them from his siblings.
'I think you've all embarrassed Miss Featherington quite enough for one outing. I won't allow you to continue to make her uncomfortable in such a public space.' Anthony had stepped into his viscount role quite like stepping into a pair of well worn shoes.
'So we can continue this at home then?'
He hated to do it but he glared at Hyacinth for her cheek. He honestly should have put an end to their antics sooner but he found that he needed to know what Penelope would think about marrying into the family. Was there a brother she would prefer?
He would have guessed Colin if asked last season, but the way she and Benedict bonded over art, he might reconsider who she would choose.
'Fine. We will simply play at being statues for Benedict when we return home.' Hyacinth relented but he had a nagging feeling this was only the beginning of her pursuit.
He also had a feeling that if his marrying Penelope would make his family happy, it would take very little convincing for him to oblige.
Notes:
Send help! I'm supposed to be heading on vacation soon, but I couldn't sleep because I couldn't stop thinking about the next chapter. There's a good chance I won't be able to post again for a few days, but I'll probably keep chipping away at a draft so I can hopefully finish this fic soon. I'm so anxious for Anthony to finally make a move!
Chapter 6: Francesca
Anthony was never eager to attend these social events, but with two sisters on the marriage mart, and one in her very first season, it was his responsibility to escort them with his mother and scare away any unsuitable suitors.
He looked over to said sisters and realized they couldn't be any more different in nature. Eloise looked as if she was preparing to enter battle and Francesca looked as if she would fly to the carriage and head home at any moment. If it weren't for those strong Bridgerton genes that made clear he and all his siblings were related, he never would have guessed the two were raised in the same household.
Tonight's ball was just fine. It wasn't one of the most anticipated balls of the season such as Lady Danbury's ball which began the season or the Hastings ball which seemed to conclude it, but their hosts did a fine job. The décor was respectable, the refreshments looked delicious, and the quartet hired would provide sufficient entertainment for eager debutantes and their suitors to dance.
There was absolutely nothing to complain about regarding tonight's festivities. And yet Anthony felt unsettled.
The tension he felt as they left the gallery the week prior seemed to diminish but in its place a concern had lodged itself in the pit of his stomach and had been gnawing at him.
He hadn't seen Penelope since.
He hadn't so much as caught a glimpse of her fiery hair as she was entering Eloise's room or leaving Bridgerton House.
No one else seemed to notice and he couldn't very well ask where she was. He would find himself prey to his mother's matchmaking scheme before he could finish posing the question.
And what was infuriating was no one had even bothered to comment on it! Were they all oblivious? Eloise usually started squirming after just a few days without seeing Penelope. And at least once a week they would find themselves at the bookshop eager to spend their pin money. But as far as he knew, Eloise hadn't been to the Featherington household, or to the bookshop this week.
Evening after evening, Anthony waited for someone to comment on how long it had been since Penelope had joined them, so he could casually inquire that everything was all right. But every single one of his siblings had let him down.
Eloise didn't mention her supposed best friend. Benedict didn't mention the outing at the gallery, despite having orchestrated the whole affair. Not once. Francesca, though quieter than the rest of his siblings, would surely have inquired over their close family friend. But his sweet, thoughtful sister seemed to have missed Penelope's absence as well.
He was sure the youngest would not be so coy. Surely they would have mentioned the lack of attendance from Penelope at family tea. What with Gregory trying to marry her and Hyacinth willing to marry off whichever brother was readily available to her. But neither made a comment. They certainly weren't silent. They commented on every other topic possible, but somehow missed the glaring empty seat next to Eloise at tea each afternoon.
And his mother. His meddling, match making mother, seemed to have forgotten about her 'favorite' daughter all together.
It took every ounce of will power Anthony had not to ask them if they had all turned blind to their missing family member.
Penelope was an honorary Bridgerton after all.
It was a miracle he hadn't ripped his own hair out from the tension. He just needed to know that she was alright.
He was about to lose his sanity before all the guests in attendance this evening when they were joined by Daphne and Simon.
'What a pleasant surprise seeing you both here,' Benedict remarked. 'Didn't think anything could convince you to part with Auggie for an evening sister.'
'Simon insisted that I needed to try to take a break and make time for the things I enjoyed before Auggie.' Daphne explained.
'I tried assuring her that she is much more involved in caring for our son than most women in the peerage. Surely she deserves a bit of time for herself.' Simon looked sternly at his beloved wife, adding, 'but the guilt she feels being away from Auggie has quite the hold on her.'
'But you managed to convince her otherwise?' Benedict inquired.
'Of course not. I would never consider myself having the kind of influence over Daphne that I could ever potentially change her mind.' Any other man might have found this an aggravating dilemma, but Simon just grinned at his wife with fondness.
Anthony wanted to roll his eyes. 'And yet, here you are.'
'Well I was hoping to see Penelope in the dress.' Daphne explained.
Nothing could have wiped the scowl of Anthony's face faster. He always knew Daphne was his favorite sister.
He couldn't seem too interested though.
'What dress?' He inquired. If his voice seemed a bit shaken, well he just added a small cough. Hopefully they would all assume he just had something scratching his throat.
'Anthony,' Daphne sounded exasperated. 'The dress Eloise and I picked out for Penelope when you suggested it as a gift. Madame Delacroix mentioned it should be ready within the week and I received a note letting me know it had been delivered yesterday. I'm hoping she has a chance to wear it tonight, and I didn't want to miss seeing how it looks.'
Anthony hung on Daphne's every word. He still had no idea whether Penelope would be here tonight, or why she hadn't been to Bridgerton House in the past week, but god was he grateful for the morsel of information. Never had a dress mattered to him more.
'Ah, that dress.'
'Are you quite alright? Your voice sounds strained.' Now was not the time for Simon to take an interest in his friend's well being.
Anthony cleared his throat again. Perhaps a bit too roughly, but he needed to convince them he simply had something in his throat. 'I'm fine. Nothing to be concerned about.'
He cleared his throat a little more lightly to emphasize the point while he slowly scanned the ballroom.
'I don't believe the Featherington family has arrived yet Daph.'
He didn't believe it, because he knew they hadn't. He had been looking for Penelope since they arrived.
'Perhaps they aren't attending tonight's ball.'
'They should be. Pen mentioned she would see me here tonight.' El casually mentioned this as if it wasn't particularly significant.
'Well they certainly haven't been announced since we arrived.'
'Have you been paying attention to the announcement of guests, brother?' Benedict looked amused at his brother's behavior.
'Yes, well, it's important to know which members of parliament might be in attendance. So I can properly greet them.' Anthony explained, rather pleased with himself at having come up with it on the spot.
'Anthony, you hate greeting members of parliament. You avoid them at all costs. I'm certain you would avoid me as well if I wasn't your brother-in-law.' Simon was not helping tonight.
'I've decided to take a more active role in my responsibilities in parliament. It will be needed to assist in Eloise's plan.' He immediately winced as he realized the words that had left his mouth.
'Wonderful brother! I knew I could count on you,' El beamed at him and he did his best not to groan. Though the look Benedict gave him didn't help.
He was making a mess of this.
'What plan?' Simon asked.
'Don't get El started. Not now at least. I'm begging you.' Anthony couldn't remember the last time he had to plead with his friend like this but he prayed Simon would take pity on him.
Not a moment too soon, he heard the announcement marking the arrival of the Featherington family.
'Let's hope you get your wish Daph, and Penelope is wearing the dress you ordered this evening.' Benedict might have been speaking to Daphne, but his eyes were watching his brother.
It was worth it to catch Anthony so flustered. This was going to be quite the evening.
Anthony needed to make his way to the entrance. But his siblings would question his urgency, and Benedict was already looking at him with a quirked brow.
'Where's Francesca?' She couldn't have gone far but he could pretend he was looking for her and step away.
'She left ages ago with mother to take a turn about the room. Likely since you weren't helping the suitor situation,' remarked Benedict.
'What do you mean I wasn't helping? There hasn't been a single suitor to approach this evening thus far' Anthony was already agitated, and this baseless accusation may tip him into a rage.
'Exactly.' Benedict truly was testing the limits of his patience. 'Eloise is scanning the room as if she's looking for her prey. And you have had a scowl on your face, which, I have yet to determine the reason for, but to the many potential suitors, a scowl is a scowl. They're not likely to approach the viscount and his sister when he already looks to be in a sour mood, are they?'
He had a point.
'I'll go find Francesca and mother. Apologize for ruining her first season.' Ruining was a bit dramatic. They all knew it. But Anthony didn't look back as he escaped his siblings on whatever flimsy excuse he could come up with first.
He was no more than ten paces away when he heard El call out 'Pen!'
He immediately whipped around and couldn't believe his luck that Penelope had arrived just as he had left his siblings. He tried to catch a glimpse but found her mother and sister blocking his view. They were both quite a bit taller than Penelope and there was no way for him to see her unless they moved out of his line of sight. With his present luck, he knew that was a lost cause.
He went to turn back and continue searching for Francesca as he said he would, but not before catching the smirk Benedict was giving him.
Truly, his siblings would be the death of him.
It wasn't long before Anthony spotted Violet, speaking to Lady Danbury. His luck truly was against him tonight.
Anthony made his way over, making sure to greet Lady Danbury, before getting to Francesca's whereabouts. He was a gentleman after all.
'Good evening Lady Danbury. I hope you are enjoying the evening.'
'As much as I am likely to enjoy one of these society soirées. Although I'm surprised to see you willing to approach me. Perhaps it's too early to write off this evening just yet. Who knows what other surprises are in store.'
God this woman. Anthony was a grown man and yet he was fighting the rising color in his face at Lady Danbury's frank remarks.
'Please do not take my avoidance personally Lady Danbury. I tend to avoid these events as much as possible. I find my patience for socializing is rather weak in general. I will be sure to rectify the mistake going forward. I shall risk the perils of matchmaking mamas and their desperate debutantes in order to cross these ballrooms and make my way to you in the future. I wouldn't be able to bear it, should one more ball pass without my properly attending to you.'
Batting his lashes at Lady Danbury might have been overkill but he was determined to at least win over one woman tonight. Even if he was making a mess of it with all others.
Lady Danbury simply laughed. 'You cheeky flirt. And here I thought it was Benedict who was the shameless flirt, but it seems obvious now that it's his older brother he should have learned it all from. I pity the girl who catches your heart. She won't know what hit her.'
'I pray you are correct Lady Danbury. It would be wonderful to just be able to sweep her off her feet. If she was reluctant, well, I'm not sure what I would do to convince her.'
'And does this young lady have a name?' Of course Violet wouldn't miss an opportunity to inquire about Anthony's marriage prospects.
'That reminds me mother, where is Francesca? I thought she was with you.' While it wasn't graceful in the least, hopefully his mother would take the blatant hint and cooperate in the change in subject. Lady Danbury simply gave him a smirk that made him worry she could read his every thought.
'Oh she was, but she went over to the refreshments table a few moments ago.'
'Alone?! Without a chaperone?' Anthony sounded horrified and both women simply looked at him bewildered.
'Anthony dearest, we're in a ballroom. There are chaperones everywhere.' Violet tried to explain in the most light hearted tone, but there was a tinge of concern in her voice. What was wrong with him?
'Ah yes, of course. It's just her first season, and I worry about her.' Anthony quickly tried to explain away his reaction.
'Of course dear.' Violet knew the toll it took on Anthony to be responsible for their family, no easy task with seven younger siblings. She would never mock him for his concern. She turned to Lady Danbury instead, 'Anthony has always been the most attentive brother, but I'm afraid that with each sister's debut it's only become more and more difficult to watch the young ones venture into society. I can't imagine the state he'll be in when Hyacinth is to make her debut.'
The women chuckled at Anthony's future state while he visibly paled at the thought of Hyacinth's debut. He most certainly was not ready to let go of his baby.
'You may joke now mother, but I believe at this rate I simply won't allow Hyacinth to debut ever. She'll remain my chaotic little sister at home, forever.'
'Anthony!' His mother admonished, while Lady Danbury laughed.
'I'm off to find Francesca and make sure she's alright. Enjoy the rest of your evening ladies.'
And with that Anthony bowed and headed for the refreshments table. He may have been a bit distracted tonight, but his mother was right. It was harder and harder to watch his sister's debut.
El had been a bit easier as she was adamant she didn't want to marry. Anthony figured there was no risk of her leaving them anytime soon.
But Francesca didn't share Eloise's feelings on the matter. She never voiced it as Daphne had, the desire to marry and have children, but there was always a soft romantic look in her eyes whenever she seemed lost in her own world. He was dreading it, in the way brothers do, but he was certain Francesca would be married off and starting a family of her own in just a season or two.
At least this sister couldn't marry his best friend.
Anthony spotted Francesca by the refreshments. She seemed to be speaking to someone, but he couldn't make out who just yet, so he debated whether or not to leave her be. She looked more animated than she had all night and he didn't want to interrupt and take that away.
When a nearby group moved and cleared his line of sight his breath left him.
It was Penelope.
He could have recognized her by her glossy red hair, or even her tiny stature. She was shorter than most of his sisters.
But no. He recognized that hip. The same one that had rocked his little nephew into a soft slumber.
The same one that was usually hidden to the rest of the world.
That hip.
That hip that was currently being caressed by a lovely silk in a dreamy shade of blue.
Bridgerton blue.
Did he say Daphne was his favorite sister? He was misled. She would be the death of him just like his other siblings. Only, albeit, in a sly and significantly more torturous way.
Anthony had to brace himself. He hadn't even seen her face yet, simply her back, which he should not have recognized. He was a gentleman! At least he used to be.
He no longer had any qualms about interrupting. He needed to know she was alright and this was his chance.
He strode over to the refreshments table with the purpose befitting a viscount. Not at all like a lovesick idiot.
He arrived and moved to stand at Francesca's side, 'hello sister.'
As he turned to face Penelope, he found, despite all of his efforts, he wasn't the least bit prepared for the effect she would have on him.
Her blue eyes were so bright tonight they could have looked grey.
Her soft cheeks had a beautiful blush. The kind of blush that he wanted to be the reason for. The kind of blush he wanted to lead to deeper and deeper blushes all over her body.
Her hair cascading down her back in lush curls, crept over one shoulder, teasing her collarbone just enough to draw his eye with that one curl along her delicate neck. He considered brushing back the lone curled strand of hair for a chance to brush her skin.
He quickly looked up before his own fingers could betray him. Unfortunately, his eyes caught on her lips. He was always listening to her from afar, never venturing near her during their family tea. Always sensible as to what was appropriate, unlike Benedict.
But in that moment his eyes drank in her full lips. He imagined the lemonade would taste extra sweet on her lips.
'Brother?' Thank god Francesca broke him out of his spell.
'Uh sorry.' He quickly coughed to cover up his complete and utter lack of manners. 'Good evening Miss Featherington. I hope you are enjoying this evening.'
'Yes, my Lord. I find any chance to meet with such good friends rather enjoyable.' She reached over and gave Francesca's hand a small squeeze. Only the sweetest lips could speak such kind words. He caught the smile Penelope's comment brought to Francesca's face. A genuine smile, without a trace of her earlier unease.
'Indeed. We have certainly missed your presence at Bridgerton House this past week.'
He might not have realized he had said the words out loud if it weren't for Francesca turning to look at him with a look that was both questioning and knowing all at the same time.
He cleared his throat in an effort to move past his all too telling comment.
'Yes, Penelope. We really have missed you this past week. But I will have to leave you for now if I'm to implement our plan. Promise me you will join us tomorrow? We will have much to discuss, I'm afraid.' Francesca's words were cryptid in a way he didn't like.
'Plan? What plan?'
'Oh nothing. It isn't even much of a plan, just a little suggestion.' Penelope seemed to be hiding something now as well. Now he absolutely needed to know what was happening.
'Penelope is being far too modest. She's incredibly clever and knew just how to avoid you scaring away all the eligible suitors.' Finally some information, although Anthony couldn't say it painted him in a positive light. He looked to Penelope who seemed to blush even more at the compliment. Or perhaps she was embarrassed to fix a problem that was essentially, him.
'And pray tell, what is the solution to my scaring away all the suitors?' Her blush deepened and it was a power Anthony could very well go mad with now that he had had a taste.
'Simple! I take a turn about the room with Simon.' Francesca seemed more excited for a turn about the room with Simon than she ever had with any of her brothers.
'That's all?' Really, Anthony had expected something far more dastardly.
'Well, a turn about the room would provide all the eligible young men an opportunity to see Francesca. And it would be appropriate for Francesca to walk with her brother-in-law, without suggesting to any of the potential suitors that she is already being courted. His Grace's title would deter any unsuitable man simply with his presence and association. Only reputable men His Grace would approve of for his beloved sister-in-law would dare approach. And because Francesca is comfortable with His Grace, she would feel at ease when she is approached by any gentlemen. I'm sure His Grace would help with conversation as well. He has such an amiable nature.'
'If any suitors approach.' Francesca corrected.
'When.' Penelope insisted. 'You are far too lovely to retire to the refreshments table with the wallflowers just yet.'
Penelope's encouragement was just what Francesca needed. Once again, she seemed to know what his siblings needed better than he did.
'It is an incredibly subtle but marvelously effective plan Miss Featherington.' He was eager to compliment her, hoping to watch her blush once more at his words, but it truly was the perfect suggestion.
'And best of all, it will stop your scowl from scaring away any more eligible men!' Francesca added. If she was comfortable teasing her older brother, here amidst their peers, her time with Penelope truly had transformed her.
He simply smiled and shook his head at his sister's teasing.
'Penelope, maybe you can uncover what has Anthony so angry. He has been like this all week, and none of us can seem to figure it out. If anyone can understand the most difficult Bridgerton, I'm sure you can.' Penelope giggled at Francesca's teasing.
Anthony would give each and every one of his siblings a pass to tease him in Penelope's presence if it would mean he could hear her laugh over and over again.
Well, maybe not all of them.
'Please, please, please, come for tea tomorrow! And maybe we can discuss how you solved this puzzle too.' Francesca nodded towards her brother.
'I promise. I will come for tea after calling hours, so I can hear about the many suitors who decide to call on you tomorrow.'
At this, Francesca squealed and leaned down to give Penelope a quick hug before running off to find Simon, no doubt. Penelope must be some angel sent to look after his family. A godsend, truly.
They were finally alone, or as alone as they could be at the refreshments table, and Anthony didn't know what to say. One would think with his reputation as a rake, he wouldn't be cowed by the simple presence of a young lady, but he was utterly tongue tied.
'I must thank you, Miss Featherington.' It seemed pertinent to acknowledge how much her guidance meant to his sisters, and how much he in particular valued it.
She looked up at him in surprise. 'Whatever for, my Lord?'
'I don't believe I have seen Francesca happy to be at a ball this entire season. It means the world to me to see my siblings happy, and this is just one more instance in which I have you to thank for their joy.'
There was that blush again. He would read every poem Byron had ever penned to her if it meant he could see that blush across her apple cheeks.
'Oh! It really is no trouble, I'm just glad to be able to help. Francesca really is a lovely girl. And too pretty to spend her evening hiding with wallflowers like me at the refreshments table.' She giggled, again joking at her own expense.
'By that assessment, I can't help but wonder why someone as lovely as you Miss Featherington has decided to hide at the refreshments table with the wallflowers.'
Her mouth formed a little 'o' in shock at his statement. He would have reveled in the effect his compliment had on her, but he had the feeling that Penelope was not only surprised at the source of the compliment, but the compliment itself. Surely, she knew she was lovely. Didn't she?
He leaned in as close as was appropriate and in a low voice, so that no one else could hear, added, 'And so beautiful, might I add.'
At this he heard a small gasp. If her blush had enticed him, her gasp would thoroughly test his control.
Leaning away and resuming his normal volume, he thought he should give her a proper compliment.
'You look lovely tonight Miss Featherington.' He gave her his best, most rakish smile, hoping she might welcome his flirtations as she did Benedict's.
'You are too kind my Lord. But it would be difficult to look anything other than lovely in this dress. I am fortunate your sister, Her Grace, chose to give me this gift. It instantly became my favorite.'
She was being so polite, so cordial. Of course it was appropriate as they were at a ball and not in the privacy of Bridgerton House, but his heart longed to have the same ease of conversation with her as she did with his siblings.
He took a moment to take in the dress. Daphne choosing Bridgerton blue ensured anyone who saw Penelope understood that she was special to their family. She would have had no idea what this choice in color would do to him. He considered what he would need to do in order to fill her wardrobe with dresses in shades of blue.
The answer was obvious but he wasn't sure he was ready to face that choice just yet.
It wasn't just the color though, he realized. The shape of the dress was different. He never realized how delicious the curve from her waist to her hip was. And the fitting of the dress displayed the exact amount of décolletage that was just enough to tease a man while being entirely respectable.
Anthony was thoroughly teased.
'I beg to differ. It is the beautiful woman wearing the dress that allows one of Madame Delacroix's pieces to shine.' The words had left his lips before he could even consider what he had said.
He could see the compliment had affected her. She hesitated and seemed to be at a loss for words.
'If you do not believe me, perhaps we should take a turn about the room. Surely when others see and compliment you, you will believe I mean it in earnest. Allow me to coax you away from the wallflowers, as you did for Francesca.' He hoped so desperately that she would agree.
'That is an enticing offer my Lord, however, I am practically the queen of wallflowers and therefore cannot leave my post. Good heavens, could you imagine if another young lady ventures to the refreshment table, looking to hide. How will she find the courage to participate in the marriage mart without a spinster waiting here to warn her of the alternative.' She laughed, again at her own expense, but Anthony swore he heard a tinge of longing in that laugh.
'You are not a spinster.'
'With no suitors or prospects into my third season, I am clearly on my way to spinsterhood if not already there.'
Was this truly her third season? Now that he thought about it, she did not have her debut with Eloise, she was already out in society. But not one suitor in all that time? That couldn't be. The men of the ton must be blind.
'Well then perhaps you need to take the very advice you gave Francesca. Make yourself visible to the eligible young men.' Goodness, you would think he was asking her to come to his bed the way he was practically begging her for a turn about the ballroom. He had to stop that line of thought before it got too far. Before he lost all sense of his surroundings because he was too consumed imaging her in his bed.
'Unfortunately, that advice was specific to Francesca and will not help me. Men want what other men want, and they have already been persuaded against me.'
This time, he couldn't tell what that was in her voice. Anger? Frustration? Defeat? What could possibly have happened to dissuade all the men of the ton from pursuing Penelope? She was adamant she was a wallflower. Certainly there wasn't some scandal he had missed.
'Well then we shall convince them otherwise. Surely our stroll will spark some interest, will it not?' What was he doing? He didn't want to share her with anyone else. He already had seven siblings vying for her attention before him.
'I'm afraid not, my Lord. But I thank you for your offer.' Defeated. She sounded utterly defeated.
'I hate to sound so smug Miss Featherington, but the Bridgerton name, and opinion, do carry a significant weight in our society.'
'I am painstakingly aware.' She had whispered it under her breath but he was certain that's what she said.
'I'm sorry?' He didn't quite understand what her comment meant, but there seemed to be some resentment or hurt in her response. And he couldn't fathom what would make Penelope feel that way. She had never shown any resentment towards the Bridgerton family before, despite how different their family situations were.
'Forgive me, my Lord. I do not mean to be rude by declining, I simply do not want to be the subject of gossip. No one will believe that you are interested in me.'
'A dance then?' Her eyes grew wide at that. Anthony did not dance, and she knew it. Everyone did.
'My Lord, I am grateful that you want to help me, but I must decline. I would hate for your efforts to be unfruitful as they are likely to be. I have only ever had your brothers to thank for dances, and that at the insistence of Lady Bridgerton that one of them dance with me. It is well known that they do it out of kindness for a family friend. None of those dances have ever indicated that I was worthy of courtship, and I'm afraid a dance with the viscount himself would only garner a stronger dose of pity from anyone who sees. I implore you. I have suffered many unkind remarks, but I cannot bear to be the object of pity tonight.'
And with that, she gave him a quick curtsey and fled.
How had this gone so entirely wrong?
Chapter 7: Violet
Anthony spent the morning after the ball chaperoning with his mother during calling hours. Penelope's little plan seemed to have worked wonderfully.
After tossing and turning all night, replaying his conversation with Penelope over and over again, Anthony still couldn't seem to figure out where it had all gone wrong. What had deterred the men of the ton from pursuing her, and why was her opinion of herself so low? Once again, Anthony kicked himself for not having paid more attention to the goings on of the ton.
He couldn't very well ask the women of his family to help him understand. God, they'd be like a dog with a bone. They wouldn't let go until Anthony had thoroughly made a fool of himself.
He was so distraught, thinking in circles and trying to remember their exact words from the night before, that he forced himself to chaperone in the hopes of being distracted. His mother was the only one who seemed surprised. Francesca hopefully would find comfort in his presence, rather than think him a nuisance as he had been last night.
Alas, sitting and watching three different gentlemen call on Francesca, with mixed results, wasn't enough to distract Anthony from the surprisingly elusive red head.
Anthony found himself constantly wondering what Penelope would think about each of the suitors who had arrived. How would she judge each of the men? What advice would she give Francesca? What advice would she give Anthony, when he would inevitably put his foot in his mouth?
And most infuriating of all, he couldn't help but wonder which bouquet she would be most impressed by. It couldn't possibly be the roses. Expensive, sure, but that's all they were. Certainly, Penelope who was so much more than meets the eye would appreciate a more thoughtful bouquet. Something more unique. But what?
With each bouquet that arrived, Anthony found himself wondering what type of bouquet he would bring Penelope.
He was an idiot. She was clearly upset with him and far from considering being courted she couldn't even imagine dancing with him. When in the world would he ever have a chance to give her flowers?
Not that he was going to be courting Penelope Featherington. She was practically family. A sister to his sisters. And therefore a sister to him. An honorary Bridergerton. That didn't leave any appropriate opportunity to give her flowers. He was wasting his time.
And yet, the gentlemen had all left, calling hours were over, and Anthony was still here in the drawing room. His mother and Francesca spoke while they awaited the tea to arrive, and he barely heard a word they said.
He was doing everything he could not to watch the drawing room door, waiting for their favorite red head to walk in. She had promised Francesca she would come today and Penelope was not the type to break a promise. He just knew it.
There was no reason for him to stay any longer. He had estate matters to attend to, and none of what was being discussed was registering. But he couldn't help but hope that if he waited just one more moment, he would be here when she arrived. That he would be able to make sure she was alright.
He caught his mother's eye and could see the question on her lips when suddenly the door opened for Penelope to enter.
"Penelope!" Francesca's excitement snapped Anthony out of his daze, and he remembered he was here to make sure she was okay.
He didn't know what signs he was even looking for, or that he could have seen them while Francesca had Penelope wrapped in a hug. Francesca quickly grabbed her hand and moved to bring her to the sofa across from where Anthony sat.
For just a brief moment their eyes met before she looked away. He couldn't have told you anything other than her eyes were the brightest blue, but he willed her to look at him again. Just once.
"Penelope everything worked just as you said it would. We were half way around the ballroom when already two gentlemen had approached Simon to greet him and ask if they could be introduced. They both asked for permission to sign my dance card as well." Francesca seemed to come to life discussing her suitors with Penelope in a way she hadn't with her mother. Understandably so, but once again Anthony was mesmerized by the way Penelope ignited a spark in his otherwise reserved sister.
"And what did you think of them?" Penelope asked with enough excitement to encourage Francesca to go on.
"Well there was Mr. Hatfield who was very nice, and he signed my dance card for the quadrille, which thank goodness as I'm not sure what we would have spoken about. But it was a good and fun dance and he called on me this morning. There was Mr. Stewart, who did not sign my dance card but he mentioned that he is a terrible dancer and did not want to scare me away. He did call this morning and he seems to be a rather jolly fellow. And there was also Lord Rowley, who signed my dance card for the cotillion, which I think I did a rather fine job. What with you and Anthony as my inspiration." She smiled at Penelope and then her brother at this last statement.
Penelope's cheeks turned flush at the compliment and Anthony quickly tried to play off the compliment before thinking back to that wonderful afternoon, and how he would very much like to have Penelope in his arms again.
"I did tell you I would show you how it was done, Francesca." He tried to sound smug but he wasn't sure he really pulled it off. Not when he was secretly pleading with Penelope to look at him. To give him any indication that she also thought fondly of that afternoon in this very drawing room.
Francesca simply smiled at him and turned back to Penelope. "And they all called on me this morning, bringing flowers!"
There wasn't any trace of jealousy or despair as Penelope chatted with Francesca. Nothing to suggest she was thinking of her own lack of suitors in comparison to Francesca, who was only in her first season. No, she just continued to take a genuine interest in Francesca's excitement, asking her how it went, and what she thought of each of them.
"Well it was difficult to gather much information. With Mr. Hatfield, we weren't able to speak much during the quadrille so our conversation today was still very rudimentary. He did not share anything concerning, but I guess he would be careful not to, wouldn't he? Mr. Stewart was nice enough, although he seems to talk very much and sometimes very fast. And Lord Rowley was kind as well but he didn't ask very much about me so much as tell me about his family. He seemed to ramble, so I'm not sure if he was nervous or if he simply didn't consider asking me anything about myself. What do you think Penelope? Are you familiar with any of these gentlemen?"
"I think you should pursue Lord Rowley," Eloise chimed in. "That will make three lords in Parliament we can influence."
Anthony watched as Penelope and Francesca shared a look. He began to understand why Francesca was so keen on speaking to Penelope. Daphne was different in nature to Francesca, and might not understand what Francesca is comfortable with, especially when it's different from herself. And Eloise, well she had entirely different priorities and motivations for considering marriage, none of which mattered to Francesca.
But Penelope was perfect. She understood others, and could see them for who they were, not who they were expected to be. No wonder his siblings took such a shine to her. And Francesca, being so quiet, could easily have gotten lost in the mix with seven other siblings, but somehow Penelope still managed to know and understand Francesca for who she was, rather than another Bridgerton.
"Well," Penelope began, having no idea that Anthony was hanging on her every word. "I believe all the gentlemen come from good families. Although, I have heard that Mr. Hatfield is not always on speaking terms with his brother Lord Hatfield. I have no true understanding of who is the villain or what the circumstances are, but it seems the two are somewhat estranged from time to time. They certainly have not been very close since Lord Hatfield took a wife. I just imagine that you would not be comfortable in a family where there seems to be animosity between such close members."
She was correct that the brothers were estranged, and it had not been a pretty site when the tension began. The younger Hatfield may have been pleasant, but Anthony did not trust Lord Hatfield much. He seemed far more interested in touting his rank than actually attending his estate.
He had not denied the call from the younger Hatfield, not wanting to deprive Francesca of the experience, especially after he scared away so many suitors last night. And while the man seemed far more pleasant than his brother, it wasn't a family he would have chosen for his sister. He had no idea how he would deter Francesca from the match.
But Penelope had solved another of his problems, without ever being asked.
Francesca seemed to ponder her words. "You are correct, that does sound dreadful. He seemed nice enough, but I wasn't particularly attached to the idea to begin with.
"And was there someone you were attached to the idea of." Penelope asked so gently. Her soft smile encouraged Francesca to answer. If Francesca simply forgot that her mother, sister, and brother were in the room, Anthony could not blame her. He too seemed to forget anyone else was present other than Penelope.
"Well…" Francesca seemed to be toying with some thought. Violet was on the edge of her seat, and seemed terrified to move, lest her daughter change her mind about what she was going to share and with whom. Anthony was leaning forward with interest. Whether that interest was in his sister's suitors or Penelope's smile, who could possibly tell.
"Well there was one gentleman. He did not ask to sign my dance card, but I did not see him dance with anyone else, so perhaps he does not dance. He seemed very reserved. And…." she trailed off again.
"And?" Penelope asked, still incredibly gentle with his sister.
"And he had the kindest eyes Penelope. I know it seems silly but they were big and brown and warm and I felt like I could be safe there, with him. I didn't feel like I needed to hold on to Simon for protection. And he was perfectly appropriate the entire time. He also mentioned that he is not here in London for long but that he hopes next time he is, our paths cross again."
"Oh Francesca! That sounds so romantic!" Penelope looked so angelic. Anthony could hear her sigh at the thought of love at first sight.
"I had hoped that he would call on me this morning but I did not realize just how little time he had in London. And even while speaking with Mr. Hatfield or Mr. Stewart, or Lord Rowley, none of them made me feel safe the way he did. But who knows when he will be back and if our paths will even cross again." Francesca seemed to despair at this last thought.
"Who exactly is this knight in shining armor, may I ask?"
If Penelope hadn't asked, Violet might have burst into flames without the information.
"It was the Earl of Kilmartin." Francesca blushed when speaking his title.
"Scotland!" Violet sounded horrified.
The girls all jumped at the sudden burst of tension.
After a moment's shock, Violet added, "Francesca darling, I don't think I could bear it if you were to marry so far from home." Violet's horror at the thought had given way to quiet sadness. The kind of sadness only a doting mother could feel at the possibility that her daughter had found the love of her life, but only to be taken so far away.
"Oh mother, do not worry. It is unlikely he will be returning simply to court me. He did not seem particularly excited to be in London." Francesca might have been reassuring her mother, but it sounded quite like it was her own hopes she was trying to temper.
"But you haven't been particularly fond of London during the season either, Francesca. Maybe that's why you felt comfortable in his presence. With him, you know you can enjoy quiet family settings, rather than be paraded about various balls and society functions." Penelope finally looked to Anthony, and it seemed she wanted him to contribute.
Anthony cleared his throat, buying himself a moment. "I will say, the Earl of Kilmartin has always seemed like a decent fellow. He is rather quiet, not one to drink or gamble in excess ever, but also not one to look down on anyone who does partake. He's a good natured man and simply keeps his distance from anyone who would be considered riff raff." Anthony added whatever little information he knew about the Earl, and that seemed to be just the right thing. Francesca looked relieved to hear he was a good man, and not simply some figment of her imagination she made up in a bout of romantic fancy.
"That would explain why you don't know him well brother. He couldn't be caught speaking to riff raff now could he?" Eloise got a chuckle out of all the women with that.
It could have bothered Anthony, but Penelope's laugh was like music to his ears. Even when it was just a small laugh, one she was clearly trying to repress.
"Perhaps we could ask his Grace? If the two are acquainted, and you are interested in meeting him again, it would take very little effort and I'm certain your sister would arrange an opportunity." Penelope knew all of the siblings well, and if Violet could be a meddlesome, matchmaking mama, well then, Daphne was her daughter after all.
Francesca considered the option, chewing on her lip as she thought.
Violet moved to the sofa with Francesca and Penelope, and reached for Francesca's hand to give it a squeeze. "Francesca darling, I know I was distressed at the idea of you all the way in Scotland, but if this is someone you felt comfortable with, and could see yourself being happy with, then I would never want to stand in the way. And meeting with him again would not be a commitment to marry him. It would simply be a chance to understand what you feel. I want nothing more than love matches for all of my children, including you."
"Oh mother, I would miss you all too." Her internal conflict seemed to be coming to an end, "but I think I would like to meet the Earl again."
It was a sweet blush, but in it he could see all of the hopes his sister had for the kind of marriage she wanted. He would have to ask about the Earl of Kilmartin at the first opportunity. He might not have heard anything reproachable, but that doesn't mean there isn't anything there. He would be careful not to let his sister into a doomed marriage. He wanted Francesca to feel the hope that was in that blush for the rest of her life.
"I think this is splendid Frannie! You'll have secured one more mind in Parliament for us to influence. And mother needn't worry either. You won't be terribly alone. I'm sure either Pen or I will be near once one of us marries Lord Debling." Of all his siblings, Eloise could truly be single minded, but every head whipped to her at this last comment.
"What?" Anthony couldn't help but sound angry, but he looked to Penelope for some sign. She hadn't mentioned anything about this plan last evening.
Penelope looked at Eloise with just as much shock as everyone else.
"I'm sorry Eloise, but who is marrying Lord Debling?" Penelope sounded as if she didn't actually want to know, but whatever scheme Eloise had come up with now, it was best to know exactly what we would be up against.
"One of us should. I was hoping to speak to you about this today, so it's perfect that you've arrived. Now that Francesca has a plan, we should get back to our own prospects. Last night, I kept trying to think of at least one titled man who is unmarried and susceptible to our influence. But then I saw Lord Debling and I thought, 'this is perfect!'" Eloise looked at Penelope as if she was awaiting some praise for her grand discovery.
"And you think Lord Debling is perfect because?"
"Well he meets the initial requirements, but he also does not eat meat. Apparently he cares very deeply for animals. A man with that much compassion for our four legged friends must certainly have more compassion than most men for his female counterparts, don't you think?"
"Yes well," Penelope barely got the words in before Eloise continued.
"And he visits these far off countries for research, to study exotic animals. How many men in the ton have any real appreciation for academia or continuous study? Imagine having an intellectual for a partner! You could speak with him as we do with one another, discussing all manner of topics!"
"I suppose," Penelope had simply whispered the words, but Anthony's heart raced as if she had agreed to marry the man.
"And his lands seem to be far from London! So with him gone on some wild excursion to study some bird, you and I can simply sit pretty in his home and pretend we are spinsters together as we dreamed of! We'll read all the books in his library, and buy more to round out whatever bland collection he no doubt has." Eloise finished, clearly having saved the best for last.
"Eloise, I would love to visit you when you are married to Lord Debling. I don't believe I will be able to actually go with you once you are a married woman though. But as we have said before, it's a small price to pay for influence in Parliament." Anthony could feel himself breathe again. Of course, Penelope wouldn't marry Lord Debling for the sake of Eloise's ridiculous plan to overtake Parliament.
"You're right Pen, your mother wouldn't let you go for long while you are unwed. Which is why you should marry him! Honestly, it's for the best. This way, I can travel back and forth between my many nieces and nephews, including your future children of course, helping to mold their minds." Eloise seemed to have completely forgotten the very brief, but very memorable, moment that she held Auggie.
"I would love to know what Daphne thinks about that part of the plan." Penelope's wit was phenomenal, and her little giggle as she teased her best friend was infectious. They all joined in, except Anthony who felt furious at the thought of Penelope having children with Lord Debling.
Eloise was not to be deterred though. "Yes well, no one is born a perfect teacher. Obviously, I will improve with time."
"Eloise, why not pursue Lord Debling yourself. It sounds as if you would enjoy all the perks of being a married woman, with very little time required to attend to your husband. And you would also be able to more freely travel and visit said nieces and nephews when married." Anthony could not have been more relieved that Penelope seemed against this idea on her own. For a moment he was certain Eloise would have convinced her to marry Lord Debling. She was nothing if not persistent, but Penelope didn't seem easily led either.
What was he worrying about? Neither of them had spoken one word to Lord Debling, and no one in this room was even aware if he was interested in finding a wife this season.
"All good points Pen! However, I still believe you would make a wonderful wife for Lord Debling. I am an acquired taste after all, and I would hate to ruin both of our chances by attempting to woo Lord Debling."
"Eloise, you will not be attempting to woo anyone. It's not appropriate. If you want an introduction to Lord Debling we can arrange one, but please do not do anything rash." Violet begged her daughter, not sure Eloise quite agreed with her about what was or wasn't appropriate to begin with.
"Of course mother, I would never embarrass the family."
Eloise either missed or ignored the looks her present family exchanged at that declaration.
"Pen I still think you two would do wonderfully together."
"That's very sweet of you El, but even if Lord Debling is looking for a wife this season, he is unlikely to consider the wallflowers by the refreshment table. Goodness, and if he does notice me in whatever citrus creation mama insists I wear for the next ball, well then you'll definitely have a better chance at making a match with Lord Debling." She giggled that same light giggle but Anthony couldn't take it anymore. The way she disparaged herself rankled Anthony.
"Lord Debling would be a smart man if he noticed you Miss Featherington, and an idiot if he were deterred over something as silly as the color of your dress." Anthony spoke as if that were that, and there was to be no disagreement about his assessment.
Penelope's lips formed a small "o" in surprise, and she seemed stunned by his heated defense of her from herself.
The room was silent, and all eyes were on Anthony who seemed almost angry, but it was unclear towards who. He wasn't sure he could have explained it himself.
Luckily, Violet was able to break the tension.
"You know Penelope, while it might not seem often that wallflowers are chosen, I like to think it's rather that much more special when they are. I was a wallflower myself, and I'll forever cherish the way I felt seen by Edmund." She had that wistful dazed look in her eyes, the one that graced her countenance whenever she thought of her beloved late husband.
"Mother you couldn't possibly have been a wallflower. You're practically a social butterfly!" Francesca was stunned at this bit of information about her mother. When we are so wrapped in our mothers' doting and managing, we sometimes forget that once upon a time she was just a girl.
"Oh I was most certainly a wallflower. Anyone who cared to describe me would have said I was quiet, or shy, and I'm certain one or two ladies would have called me 'mousy.' But then one day, your father just seemed to see me in a way no one else had. It's as if he recognized all of the joy and warmth that was bubbling inside me, just looking for somewhere safe to pour all of that love. He was handsome of course but I was so overwhelmed when he approached me for a dance, I think I might have been too terrified to speak. But he just smiled, and we danced. And he was so patient. He offered to bring me refreshments after our dance, and it was only then when I had a lemonade in hand, did he ask me what my favorite dance was."
As much as it hurt to hear about his father, part of Anthony always found joy and pride in knowing his father was a good man, and a loving husband. So many men would spend their days at White's simply to avoid their own families. But Edmund Bridgerton would never have been one of those men. He spent every moment he could with his wife and children.
Anthony was determined to be the same kind of husband and father.
"And what did you say mother?" Francesca, clearly the romantic, asked.
"I told him it was the waltz. That I was not permitted to, but whenever I watched the couples dance the waltz I would find myself mesmerized. Then I felt silly for choosing a favorite dance that I could not even do. But your father was wonderful, even then. He told me that he hoped one day he could be my first and only waltz. Then he bid me a good evening and left before I could become any more overwhelmed." Violet laughed at the memory. "Although his parting comment certainly left me blushing so deeply, I all but ran back to my corner of the ballroom to hide."
"That sounds magical, Lady Bridgerton." There was a longing in Penelope's voice that had Anthony desperate to bring her whatever it was that she wished for.
"Yes, Penelope, it was. But I share this to say that it is not impossible for you to be noticed. In fact, it takes a very special kind of man to notice a wallflower, and my wish for you is that a very special man does take notice soon. I hope for love matches for all of my children. That includes the honorary ones, my dear girl."
Penelope's eyes shone bright with unshed tears.
"Thank you, Lady Bridgerton. Whether or not that special man arrives, I will always cherish all the love I found in your home, and I will think of Bridgerton House as the place where I could pour the love bubbling inside me." Penelope's words were so sincere, Anthony found himself overcome.
Violet was certainly touched. She rose from the sofa and gathered Penelope for a hug.
"Oh, my dear girl. This home wouldn't be the same without you."
Anthony slipped out of the drawing room beginning to feel like an intruder in the women's conversation.
His mother was right though. Bridgerton House wouldn't be the same without Penelope.
Chapter 8: Lady Danbury
It had been two days since that moment in the drawing room.
Anthony had been so mesmerized by all the ways Penelope meant so much to his family, and so nervous to know what she might think about becoming a part of it, that he had not realized until that moment just how much his family meant to her.
They were a loud, boisterous, and loving family. But they were born into this. There was no other option but to be a part of it.
Penelope, however, had chosen them. She chose to give her love, here, to the Bridgertons, to his mother and siblings.
He wondered whether that choice extended to include him.
He wasn't entirely selfish. For most of the past two days he had been haunted by the gratefulness in Penelope's voice when she claimed Bridgerton House was her safe place. He knew other families in the ton were not as close as the Bridgertons seemed to be, and he didn't particularly like the other Featherington women, but he had never considered that the fondness between Eloise and Penelope would have been non existent between Penelope and her true sisters.
He assumed her mother insisted on the terrible choice in dress for Penelope because she simply had poor taste in fashion. But for two days he had been wondering whether this was a matter of more than just poor taste.
Suddenly, Anthony could see the root of Penelope's disparaging comments about her own appearance, and her conviction that no man would ever be interested in her.
While his own siblings had been nurtured to grow into confident and secure individuals, Penelope seemed to have been equipped to think so lowly of herself. Who else could have put those voices into her head? How often had her needs and desires been overlooked? What would her prospects have been like if she had been allowed to wait another year for her debut as Eloise had been able to? How might she have blossomed if she simply had a friend by her side?
The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. He did not know if he was correct in his assessment, but he certainly felt compelled to have strong words with Lady Featherington when he next saw her.
"Oh dear, what could have possibly inspired that scowl?"
He had not realized when Lady Danbury had joined him. He must have been so lost in thought, he did not hear the stern clicking of her cane on the ballroom floor.
"Lady Danbury!" He turned to give her a small bow and his most charming smile. "I am sorry that you have found me before I could come to attend to you. Once again I have failed. Please forgive me." He placed his hand over his heart, as if he was the one wounded. Dramatic, but he knew this would all be less painful if he could keep her in a jovial mood.
"It is quite disappointing, but I may be able to forgive you." He didn't trust where this was going. "For a price."
"Lady Danbury," he rushed to whisper, suddenly concerned. "Is everything alright? Have you fallen on difficult times?"
"Of course not, you fool! I'm far too old and too wealthy to be influenced by something as simple as money."
Now he really didn't trust where this was going.
"Then what, may I ask, is this price?" Anthony felt trapped in a way he hadn't in quite some time. The old woman just might best him in a way he wasn't accustomed to.
"I would like a bit of information." Lady Danbury began, a slow smile on her face.
"Information? You would likely be better off looking to Lady Whistledown if it's information you are looking for Lady Danbury. I assure you I do not know much about the secret goings on of the ton."
"No, but you certainly can speak to the secret goings on of Viscount Bridgerton. I'm afraid the information I'm curious to know is a detail that Lady Whistledown has not confirmed, and unfortunately I have no way to ask her." Lady Danbury wanted to know something about him?
"Ah, well I'm sure I could provide you the answer you are looking for, though I can't imagine how valuable it could be."
"Very, to me at least. Tell me, Lord Bridgerton," she leaned in to whisper her question, "are you looking to take a wife this season?"
Anthony was shocked. His head snapped up and looked from side to side, desperate to confirm that no one had overheard or would overhear his answer.
"Lady Danbury," he began to plead. "What could make you think that a flirt like myself is ready to take a wife?" He chuckled, uncomfortably. He didn't often refer to himself as a flirt, and he certainly didn't want to acknowledge his rakish reputation in the presence of a lady. But what could possibly have brought this woman to ask him such a damning question, in the middle of a ballroom full of matchmaking mamas?
"Well for one thing, you don't actually flirt with any of the debutantes. You are not one to lead them on or give them any false hope. Don't look so shocked. I have noticed and I admire that about you. There are many young men in these ballrooms who find joy in the attention, and care not at all for the poor girl whose hopes rise and fall with his attention." Anthony was certainly surprised that she noticed, but he couldn't help but agree with her assessment about the many men of the ton who did not care for the poor debutantes they flirted with, without any intention of courting or an offer of marriage.
"But aside from your upstanding gentlemanly behavior, I have also noticed the way you seem to be looking for someone in these ballrooms recently." Again, Anthony was shocked at her observation. "Do not fret, I promise I won't share this information with your mother." She gave him a smirk that told him she knew exactly what the answer was and just how much he didn't want his mother to become involved.
Anthony gave a small, defeated sigh.
"Lady Danbury," he leaned in, and waited for her to join him, hoping for some illusion of privacy in this ballroom. "I find myself lately imagining what my life could look like if I had the right partner." He whispered the words, hoping only Lady Danbury would hear, but already he felt lighter, having given voice to the growing longing he had been feeling all season.
"But please," he added in a hurry. "I beg you not to say anything to my mother or anyone else. I would simply like to understand what it is that I need in a Viscountess before the vultures, I mean debutantes, descend."
She chuckled at his slip of an insult.
"And what have you ascertained so far, that you need in a Viscountess?"
He felt he had already paid the price to be forgiven, having answered her first question, but Lady Danbury was a shrewd woman, and she would not lie to him about her opinion of the various eligible women of the ton. This could be his one chance to get a woman's perspective, without actually inviting the meddling of his mother and sisters.
"Well," he began hesitantly, but Lady Danbury gave him a look that communicated he should spit it out. "She should be tolerable, I do not want to tie myself to a busybody or harpy. She should have a sense of duty, and be prepared to assist my mother with my sisters' debuts. And at least half a brain. I cannot bring myself to have a bumbling fool for a Viscountess. Not when she will be expected to host and entertain esteemed guests from time to time." Anthony chose not to add suitable enough hips for child bearing. It wouldn't do to refer to something so inappropriate in front of a lady.
"Hmmm." Lady Danbury seemed to study him. "It seems you have forgotten something rather important in your requirements for your Viscountess."
"Please do not tell me there should be love. I find love only leads to heartbreak. I would rather this be an efficient marriage. One in which my family's needs are met, she is secure in her future, and neither of us is utterly miserable." Anthony hadn't meant to share all of that with Lady Danbury, but by God, the woman's frankness seemed to be contagious.
Lady Danbury studied him further. She let out a sigh and looked over to where his mother stood with his sisters. "I am not your mother, to suggest such wistful ideas that love be a necessary requirement for a marriage. There are few who are as lucky as your parents, and I certainly was not one of them." Anthony had never seen Lady Danbury want for anything but in that moment she seemed to mourn some possibility.
"Having seen the love that has surrounded your mother all her life, through her youth, her marriage, and now motherhood, I can see why she would insist that her children all marry for love. But that is not what I was referring to."
"Then what have I forgotten, Lady Danbury?" He was genuinely curious. What could he possibly have overlooked. He didn't think he was asking for the moon and the stars, but already there seemed to be very few debutantes who met his requirements. He couldn't imagine how many options he might have were he to add one more.
"Kindness." Lady Danbury didn't seem inclined to elaborate, she simply looked at him as if he were a simpleton for forgetting and then began to scan the room.
Anthony looked at her as if she didn't make any sense.
"Well of course it would be nice if she were kind." He tried to agree, while suggesting this was implied and not something he had overlooked.
"No, no. It is necessary that she be kind. Women who are kind have an ability to care for those around them that those who are simply dutiful do not. You may choose your Viscountess, and she may understand duty and complete every task required of her sufficiently. But would she do it with care? Or would she begrudgingly support your mother and sisters as if this were some burden she must carry in order to secure her future?"
Anthony was shocked. He wanted efficiency, sure, but he had worked so hard not to let the weight of his responsibilities show to his mother and siblings. He would never allow someone to make them feel like a burden. His duty to his family may have been difficult to manage at times and he certainly would have lived his life differently if he were a second or third son, like Benedict or Colin. But he would never call his family a burden. They were far too loving to ever be considered anything as difficult as a burden.
Lady Danbury seemed to see the understanding form in his mind.
"And," she continued. "These esteemed guests she will need to host and entertain from time to time. Would you want them to leave your home feeling as if their attendance had been a nuisance, the invitation a formality? Or would you want them to leave with a feeling that they had been truly welcomed and attended to as guests?"
"Of course, I would want her to do her duty with care. As I have, and as I intend to continue to do." Anthony felt the need to explain to Lady Danbury that he was not some cold, uncaring Viscount. His family mattered to him. He hoped they would matter to his Viscountess as well.
"And that is why it is necessary that your Viscountess be kind." Lady Danbury finished the conversation with what seemed to be her closing and winning statement.
"And do you know any young ladies who you believe meet these requirements, Lady Danbury? Including kindness." He added to demonstrate his agreement with her.
"Hmmm. Well your options are certainly limited, but it is not impossible. What about Miss Featherington?"
"Miss - Miss Featherington?" Anthony stuttered.
"The youngest, of course. The others seem rather dimwitted, I can't say they meet the half a brain requirement. But the youngest is certainly smart. She is quiet, but on occasion I have noticed she is rather witty."
Anthony couldn't help but agree. Penelope had to be the smartest young lady in the ton. She was well read, and sharp as a whip. He wished he had something interesting to discuss with her, like Benedict with his art, but she couldn't be interested in estate matters and ledgers could she. He wasn't even interested in them, they were simply necessary to the managing of their home.
"And Lady Featherington certainly isn't what I would call kind. Though, life has not dealt Portia a winning hand and it has certainly hardened her to the realities of society."
Anthony was shocked Lady Danbury would even suggest it. "I would never-"
"I know," she interrupted him. "You would never consider pursuing the widow. Not when she is your mother's age. But I say this to point out that the youngest Miss Featherington, despite being very much dealt a difficult hand in life, and she certainly isn't ignorant to the situation in her home the way her sisters seem to be, has managed to remain kind. It's one of the things I rather like about her."
Anthony couldn't remember Lady Danbury ever admitting to liking anyone.
"Yes, Penel-, Miss Featherington, is incredibly kind. She has always been a wonderful friend to my sister."
Lady Danbury caught the familiarity with which he referred to Penelope. Anthony should have known it would not go unnoticed, but still he hoped.
"Yes, she is. And not just to the people she believes can help her, or give her something in return the way her mother is. No, Miss Featherington is kind to everyone, and especially those who most need a bit of kindness sent their way."
Anthony tilted his head in curiosity, hoping Lady Danbury would elaborate.
By some miracle, Lady Danbury not only was willing to admit that she liked Penelope, but seemed inclined to sing her praises tonight.
"Every year I attend the Smythe Smith musicale. I do not believe your family typically attends, it is an event most of the ton prefers to avoid." He knew the musicale was dreadful, but even before that knowledge, he avoided any social events he could. "The ones who attend tend to fall within two groups, the ones who are close friends of the family and feel obligated to attend, and the ones who know the performance will be an affront to music, but want to watch the spectacle, with a bit too much glee for my liking."
Anthony could imagine a few of the people she was referring to. The members of the ton who were gossips in the cruelest sense. The ones who reveled in someone else's mishaps.
"But then there is Miss Featherington. Every year she attends. And every year, I watch the shy wallflower, walk to the front of the room and claim a seat in the first row, in sight of all the young ladies who will be performing. And I watch her place a serene and encouraging smile on her face and listen to the most dreadful rendition of Beethoven."
Anthony smiled at that. Of course Penelope would want to support those young ladies. He had watched her nurture the confidence of Gregory and Francesca, and he was sure she had done the same for the others.
"The way she protects those young girls from any further ridicule during their performance. She does not make a show of it, but I have seen year after year, her quiet strength shelter young ladies who will never be able to return the favor."
Anthony thought for a moment of all the ways Penelope had understood what his family needed and worked her magic, without ever asking for any recognition in return. He imagined her at some musicale, doing the same for unknown young ladies, ones who notoriously did not have Francesca's skill it seemed, and he softened at the image. He thought Penelope an angel, come to watch over his family, but it seemed his angel did not reserve her magic for his family, but shared it wherever she could.
"It does seem that Miss Featherington meets my requirements for a Viscountess." Anthony would not pretend to Lady Danbury that he was not sure. She would know he was lying, and more importantly, he could never disparage Penelope in any sense. She was wonderful, and he still had not understood why others did not seem to see it.
"But what am I to do if she does not wish to be my Viscountess?" Anthony was in such a daze thinking of all the reasons why Penelope was perfect, he did not realize when the question on his mind had been spoken aloud until it was too late.
Lady Danbury's laugh is what alerted him to the fact that he had actually spoken that question aloud. Idiot.
"What woman doesn't want to marry a Bridgerton? Least of all the viscount himself?" Lady Danbury thought his predicament a joke.
"Well I don't believe my perfect Viscountess would be so easily impressed by rank and title. Now would she?" Anthony tried to shift the conversation away from Penelope, and back to some faceless, future Viscountess. Lady Danbury did not seem to have the same goal, given the look she was giving him.
Anthony sighed. He was already here. He might as well make the most of it.
"I am afraid that Miss Featherington finds it impossible that any attention from me would be sincere. It seems my mother's meddling in previous seasons has led her to believe that any attention from my brothers or myself is simply out of pity. Some forced duty from my mother to include the wallflower." Anthony explained, uncertain that he could ever convince Penelope that he truly did want to know her.
"Ah." That was all Lady Danbury seemed to say for a moment.
"You know, Lord Bridgerton, the ton has not been kind to Miss Featherington. Your family is quite the exception in that sense. But for a young lady to be overlooked at best, and mocked on a more frequent basis than most, it is rather difficult to see oneself in a clear manner. It is natural that her sense of worth would be blurred and misled by those frequent, and sometimes loud, voices that surround her."
Anthony could feel his anger rising at every member of the ton for whatever they could have said about Penelope that made her feel this way. His face formed a scowl that didn't seem likely to go away.
"I believe your family would be kind enough not to remind her of these slights and insults." Lady Danbury continued. "However, she may be in need of a more direct message. Perhaps the shock will clear her vision and allow her to see the possibility before her. But in order to do that, you must simply commit to your intentions. You certainly will not receive any sign from her. Not when she does not believe you could ever be interested in her."
Anthony thought of Lady Danbury's advice for a moment. He recalled how terribly his attempts at flirting had gone at the last ball. She was so certain that he could not want her. More than that. She was certain that no one would believe he wanted her.
"So, Viscount Bridgerton. Is this a prize you are willing to commit to? Or are you so fearful of rejection that you will never even ask?" Lady Danbury might not be closest to Anthony, among the Bridgerton children, but she was certain that the way the children refused to back down from a challenge was also a trait they would have learned from their eldest brother and guardian.
It was as if the growing torment that had plagued Anthony for weeks had suddenly vanished, and something else, a calm determination, had settled.
"Besides, her hips are more than suitable for child bearing. It would be such a waste for her to end up a spinster."
Anthony's jaw dropped. By God the woman was certainly too old and too wealthy to be held to propriety like the rest of society, and she was taking full advantage of it.
He quickly turned to bow to Lady Danbury. "It is always a pleasure to see you, Lady Danbury. I'm afraid I have some business I must attend to."
And with that he strode off, with all of the purpose in the world, to find Penelope. Leaving Lady Danbury to smile, a smug little smile, at his back.
He found Penelope just where he thought he might, hiding by the refreshments table.
She was wearing a pale yellow dress with a simple design. It seemed to be less offensive than some of the more garish citrus tones, and he hoped that this would work in his favor.
The less Penelope felt like an ugly duckling, the more likely she was to believe he wanted to know her. That this wasn't pity guiding his actions.
Anthony held his head high and approached Penelope as if on a mission. Quite literally, with his eye on the prize.
Typically keeping to the edges of the ballroom when at these events, tonight the Viscount was present and in full form prepared to command this entire room in order to get what he wanted.
"Good evening Miss Featherington." He gave a small bow and he could see Penelope was nervous. She must be thinking of the last time they spoke. His serious demeanor must not have helped. "You look lovely this evening."
Penelope quickly glanced around, before bowing in return, and thanking him.
There were few others present at the refreshment table and they did glance over with minimal interest. Of course they would assume he was just being polite. She had made it clear that the Bridgertons were viewed as the Penelope Pity Committee by the ton. But that would not be the case for long.
Anthony cleared his throat, wanting to ask her everything in this moment, but preparing himself to perform the appropriate song and dance in this ballroom.
His Viscountess deserved every gesture of respect, and he would set that precedent now.
"Are you enjoying the evening, Miss Featherington?"
Good God, he was fighting against himself in order to be respectful. What he wouldn't do to simply whisk her away to a quiet, secluded corner and talk with her freely. But he could not risk the ton's gossip. Penelope would be painted as ruined, and if her assessment of her own perception was to be believed, they would all be certain she had trapped him.
"Yes, my Lord. And are you enjoying this evening as well?" She asked so politely. Some of the nervousness from before seemed to seep out of her. Her body seemed to relax just a bit. Polite conversation in a ballroom was something she could handle.
Unfortunately, Anthony did not intend to simply speak with Penelope this evening.
"The evening is fine thus far, though it is still young and I believe it will be much better once I win what I am looking for." A few of the guests around them seemed to glance over again at Anthony's words. He had said them a bit louder and with a bit of haughtiness. Very much the Viscount, sharing his opinion and plans. But why would he be sharing them with the wallflower?
"Oh," Penelope seemed, not nervous, but slightly confused now. She had no idea what it could be he was referring to. "Well I wish you well in your endeavors, my Lord. Whatever it is you hope to win, I wish for luck to be on your side."
"I'm glad to hear that Miss Featherington, as you are the only person who can ensure I win what I am hoping for." He smiled down at her, and he could see the blush begin to color her cheeks.
The guests around them were certainly interested in this conversation now. What could Penelope Featherington possibly do to help the Viscount get what he wanted?
Penelope was just as confused as their growing audience.
"My Lord, I would be happy to help in any way that I can, but I'm afraid I do not understand what that could be."
Anthony ignored her question.
"May I see your dance card, Miss Featherington."
Penelope's jaw dropped. She certainly wasn't prepared for that sudden change in conversation. But she slowly lifted her wrist and presented her dance card to him.
Anthony quickly signed his name by a dance and gave her a big winning smile, before letting go. He may have even snuck in a wink. The rake within him was desperate to make his presence known but he had to do this properly.
The smile disappeared and he took a small step back before addressing Penelope again. "I look forward to our dance Miss Featherington."
Penelope looked down at her dance card as if she did not quite believe this was really happening. Once she noticed the dance he signed his name next to though, "My Lord, I'm afraid you've signed next to-"
"I do not make mistakes, Miss Featherington." He cut her off before she could imply that he wouldn't want to dance this dance with her. "I shall take a moment to attend to my family, but when I return I will claim that dance, and this time I will not allow you to deny me."
He gave her a small bow before turning to find his family. Penelope simply stood shocked, watching him leave.
As her whirling mind came back to the present, she noticed the whispers around her. They must all be wondering why in the world Penelope would ever deny the Viscount. And worse, wondering when else he had asked her to dance, that she had rejected him? Everyone knew the Viscount never danced. His other brothers may have taken pity on Penelope in the past but Anthony would not dance, ever.
Goodness, what would they say when they saw he wanted to waltz. The most intimate dance. With her.
Anthony and Penelope stood on opposite sides of the ballroom. Penelope quickly escaped the refreshments table shortly after their exchange, not wanting to stand there for the gossips to point and stare as they speculated what all that was about.
Anthony had joined his family and stood beside them as if he had not just taken a monumental step in securing his future wife.
"Benedict, warn me when it is time for the waltz." His nerves were starting to build. There would be no going back from this moment.
"The waltz? Are you planning on scaring away any suitor who wishes to dance with our sisters for that dance in particular, brother?" Benedict was as jovial as ever.
"No. I plan on dancing." Anthony gave his reply as if he danced often and this was simply a normal event that would occur at any ball. It was a ball for God's sake. It wasn't like he was some fool with two left feet.
"I wouldn't want the poor girl to feel forgotten simply because I did not realize the waltz was beginning." Anthony continued.
His family seemed stunned.
"It is the dance after the next, brother." Bless Francesca for helping her brother. The others seemed too stunned to answer his simple question.
"Anthony dear," Violet seemed to finally catch herself. "Who is this lucky girl you have chosen to waltz with? I did not realize you were courting anyone. Or even considering it."
"We are not courting. Yet. I plan to ask her soon." Anthony conveniently omitted the name of the young lady. He was not embarrassed by Penelope. He just desperately wanted to avoid his family's scheming for a moment longer if he could. Even if it was simply for the remainder of the current dance.
"You aren't courting but you are going to dance the waltz with her?" Benedict seemed to think he was insane.
"Yes, well it is a dance I rather enjoy. And I thought she might as well." Anthony suddenly felt defensive of his choice. He was a fool. He knew what it meant to dance a waltz with a young lady. It was an intimate dance and he was eager to hold Penelope close. But he needed to make a statement.
He was serious.
It was as he told Penelope earlier. He did not make mistakes. He was certain he found his Viscountess.
His family would understand soon enough. He needed to show the ton this was real. This was genuine. This wasn't some dance out of pity, that they could mock Penelope for.
And they would not mock her again.
The last song came to a close and Anthony stood at his full height, straightened his cravat, and began to move to the other side of the ballroom.
His movements were smooth and confident, and from a distance one might recognize the rakish swagger that made clear this was a predator. One the innocent debutantes should be weary of.
And if you knew, and Lady Danbury did, where this predator was headed, you would have seen the nervous little wallflower. The innocent prey caught in a ballroom full of witnesses.
Anthony strode to Penelope and before Lady Featherington could begin to speak Anthony bowed to Penelope and held out his hand, cutting her off.
"I am here to claim my dance, Miss Featherington. And I will not take no for an answer this time." He grinned at her, knowing she could not possibly say no. Not when he had signed her dance card. Not when he had asked her here in front of all the guests.
Not when he alluded to the chase. That this was not the first time he had pursued Penelope.
Lady Featherington and Prudence seemed to be in a state of shock. And their jaws seemed to drop as Penelope placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor.
While the ladies and gentlemen around the perimeter of the ballroom seemed surprised by this development, there were certainly some women who hid their jealousy better than others.
Anthony could not look to his family for their reaction, lest he respond to their looks with his own. But if he had, he would have seen the absolute glee on Violet and Benedict's face, the excitement on Francesca's, and the absolute horror on Eloise's.
Instead Anthony looked down at Penelope as he wrapped his arm around her and prepared to lead her through the waltz. He kept his hand low on her back. Not inappropriately so, but not so high that those watching could assume the Viscount felt cold and formal towards her.
No, he wanted them all to know just how dear she was to him. And to remember just how unlikely he was to tolerate any insult towards his future Viscountess.
She seemed nervous and so he gave her a smile, and a small squeeze, just as he had that afternoon in the drawing room, surrounded by his family.
Only this time was different. This time they were surrounded by society and quite frankly, the fog had cleared.
Anthony was no longer denying himself what he was so very drawn to. And he hoped tonight he could begin to lift the fog for Penelope as well. So that they may both see each other clearer.
As the music began, he forgot everyone around them and focused on the prize in his arms.
"I must apologize, Miss Featherington. I did not leave you much choice this evening, but to accept. However, it will come as no surprise to you that when we truly want something we Bridgertons are not above playing dirty." He gave her a smirk, hoping to ease her tension.
He caught the flicker of a smile. The reminder of their rambunctious Bridgerton behavior steering them towards the familiar, towards the memory of their safe place at Bridgerton House.
"I apologize, my Lord. I did not mean to insult you with my rejection, I just do not seem to understand what it is that you want." God he would destroy anyone even partially responsible for Penelope's view of herself.
"Why does a gentleman seek to dance with a young lady?"
He asked her the question as if it were obvious.
"I understand why a gentleman may seek a dance with a young lady. However, I do not understand why you would seek a dance with me, my Lord. I-"
"Anthony." He cut off her following comments. He didn't think he could hear one more disparaging word about her tonight.
"I beg your pardon?" She seemed stunned at his request.
"Penelope," he said gently, as if he was tasting her name on his tongue, here, in a ballroom, in the middle of a waltz, surrounded by society members who would no doubt be discussing this moment for the rest of the evening.
"I have noticed," he continued, "that while my family is all very comfortable calling you by your first name, myself and my wayward brothers included, you do not use our names when addressing us. You have never taken liberties to call me or Benedict by name. Perhaps you may with Colin as you have been much closer friends."
At this her cheeks flamed. But it didn't seem an innocent blush so much as, shame? But that couldn't be. She quickly schooled her features before he could think on it further.
"I would like to invite you to use my name."
"I, I," Penelope seemed at a loss for words. It was true. No matter how comfortable she felt in Bridgerton House she never crossed that line with Benedict or Anthony. She would never dream of calling the Viscount by name.
"Please, Penelope. I would invite you to be familiar with me." He looked into her eyes as he softly encouraged her. He was desperate to hear his name on her lips.
"Anthony, I." She was suddenly at a loss for words. It was for the best, as Anthony might not have heard anything she would have said following his name. It had never sounded so sweet.
"Yes, Penelope?" He smiled at her, seeming to somehow come back to the present before she did. Her mind still seemed to be racing. But he would keep their conversation in motion, if only for a chance to hear her say his name again.
Penelope seemed to be experimenting with this new feeling. As if the movement to say his name was so foreign, and yet oddly comfortable. It felt right.
"Anthony, I," she hesitated again. "I will have a storm of questions to answer to when I return to my mother. And need I remind you, so will you."
Ah, this was the Penelope he had come to know. One who took charge and managed a situation. She was about to manage him as well and he was nearly giddy with anticipation.
"Yes, I would like to think both of our families will find joy in seeing us dance together. Hyacinth certainly seemed to." Again he brought them back to that afternoon in the drawing room in Bridgerton House. The last time she had been in his arms.
"Anthony," she actually sounded a bit exasperated this time, and God did he want to discover all the different ways she could say his name. He decided he would answer her call no matter which feeling she paired it with.
"Yes, Penelope." He tried to sound as if he was taking her concern seriously, but he was just too happy to have her in his arms. The dance would be ending soon but he could not allow the evening to end here. He needed more of her.
"They will want to know what this means. I cannot let my mother's hopes rise needlessly. She will be beside herself at an opportunity to be connected to the Bridgerton family."
"She is already connected. You are already part of our family Penelope." Anthony insisted, although he really could do without the connection to Portia Featherington.
"A formal connection. She will wonder whether there is some possibility of marriage, and I would rather disappoint her now with the truth than allow her to dream and imagine and only be more disappointed in the future." Anthony wasn't sure if this conversation still pertained to Lady Featherington or the angel in his arms.
"And please explain to me what you believe the truth is here." Anthony asked the question but he underscored it with a look that suggested she really shouldn't claim to know what he wants.
"Well this is obviously your attempt to help me as I helped Francesca. But I am afraid it will be for nothing. The men of the ton will never believe this is anything more than pity. They would never believe a Bridgerton desired me."
"Penelope, one day soon I will understand why it is that the men of the ton are so blind to your worth, and you will explain to me why you believe that they would never consider pursuing you. However, right now, at this moment, it is pertinent that I make one thing very very clear." He could see that his tone had snapped her out of her rambling and the seriousness had her hanging on his every word.
"I do not want any other man to pursue you. I am not a man who goes looking for competition. I want you, and I would prefer it if the other gentlemen stayed out of our way."
The waltz came to an end and Anthony did not let go. As if to prove a point to Penelope, who was shocked at his words.
If his hold on her, appropriate during the waltz but increasingly inappropriate the longer he held her past the dance, also indicated to the attendees that she was his, well then he just so happened to be a very efficient man.
Penelope shook away her shock and stepped away. Anthony could tell she would run away as soon as was politely acceptable.
As she began to bow, Anthony cut her off before she could thank him for the dance.
"That ended far too soon for my liking. Perhaps I can convince you to dance with me again tonight, Miss Featherington. But not before some refreshments." He held out his arm.
Penelope may have given up trying to hide her surprise. She simply stared at him and slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. He smiled down at her and made to escort her to the refreshments.
"My Lord, you do know we cannot dance again tonight. Don't you?"
"I know that it may cause a buzz but I do not believe there is any true reason why we cannot." Anthony didn't want to make her uncomfortable, but he really did want to dance with her again. "Ah, here we are. Lemonade?"
"Yes, thank you." She eyed him suspiciously.
He handed her the glass and leaned in with his own, aiming to have this next bit stay between them. "Penelope please, I ask that you not be so suspicious. I am asking to dance with you again, because I enjoy dancing with you. Because it seems to be the only appropriate way for me to have you in my arms for the time being."
Penelope blushed, and then tried to hide it behind a sip of lemonade.
"Anthony," she paused, still surprised by the way she was suddenly able to say his name. "I do not understand, but please, people have been gossiping since you first approached me. I can feel their stares and I'm certain I know exactly what they are whispering. I do not believe I can withstand being the center of attention for much longer this evening. I am flattered that you wish to dance with me, but you can understand how this might all be a bit much all at once, don't you?"
He couldn't ignore her pleading, and he felt awful for having pushed her too far, but he took it as a good sign that she wasn't currently denying that he would truly want her.
He would step back and let her think about his actions, and everything he had said to her tonight.
"I understand, Penelope. I would never want to make you uncomfortable. But I do need you to understand that I am sincere. I will leave you be, and I will not press you for another dance, though you should know, there is nowhere else I would rather be this evening." He reassured her, and watched the tension leave her shoulders. "However, I will call on you in the morning. And I will formally ask your mother for permission to court you."
He finished his lemonade, and handed his glass to a passing servant.
He turned to her and held her hand in his. "I do hope that you will welcome my suit."
And with that, he bowed, and kissed the knuckles of her hand, and left.
Anthony was certain this was just the start their relationship needed.
Chapter 9: Anthony
Anthony awoke that morning with a sense of purpose he hadn't had in quite some time. Sure he felt his purpose was to provide for his family, to protect and care for them, and ensure they never went without.
But as Anthony had settled into his role with experience, the responsibility no longer weighed on him. He was well versed in estate matters. Far from the young nineteen year old who had taken the reins after his father's sudden death. He no longer needed to wake up with the same level of determination he once had to in order to honor those responsibilities.
In the waning of that need, he had found himself wanting to enjoy a bit of leisure. Leisure he didn't necessarily go without, as a young man, but had often denied himself, unlike his peers.
More than a bit of leisure, if he was being honest.
No, Anthony had thoroughly thrown himself into debauchery these last few years, if he was being honest. Frequent trips to White's, having a mistress or two, even dabbling in a few more silly competitions between men than he might have at his age, had he not gotten it out of his system at nineteen.
In the beginning it had all felt like a reward. A sense of control over his life that he had fully earned having put it aside somewhat during his younger years in order to attend to his family. He had proven himself to be more than capable in his role as a Viscount, and at such a young age, without significant guidance from his father, the way most of his peers would have when taking on their roles in society.
But that indulgence had lost its intrigue rather quickly.
He had had a reputation as a rake in his younger years, possibly because he didn't indulge in any other recreational activity notably enough to warrant attention. He wasn't an excessive gambler or drinker. When he took on a mistress, he wanted the utmost discretion in the matter, not wanting his rather large family to catch wind of anything. Lord knows if one found out, the rest would shortly after. There wasn't much in the way of secrets in this family.
Rather than lose his reputation as a rake over time, the gossip columns seemed to have held on to that small bit of his personality they had garnered with even tighter claws. Not wanting to feel they knew nothing about the rather private Viscount, he supposed.
What would Lady Whistledown say, if the picture of the "capital R" rake she had painted had confessed that he was feeling rather empty. The few mistresses he kept over the years had been special to him, certainly, and he had cared for them incredibly well. He liked to think other mistresses would have been jealous of the care his had received.
Did mistresses speak to one another about their arrangements? Was it a club similar to the way White's was?
It didn't really matter. Like the nights drinking at Whites, the evenings with his mistress always left him wanting something more. Or perhaps, something different.
He would enjoy the company of his friends over a drink or two, or the company of his mistress in the luxurious accommodations he arranged for her. And when he would leave, to return to his home or his bachelor lodgings, the empty feeling would rush back. The cheerfulness he was a part of, just moments before, would escape him quickly. Soon the cheer itself started to feel rather shallow.
And now, with the first of his siblings married and settled in her own home, two more on the marriage mart, and idiot brothers who would apparently propose at the drop of a hat, Anthony wondered how much time he had before his siblings ceased to need him all together.
What would be his purpose then?
He thought of his ancestral home at Aubrey Hall, where they would travel to rest at the end of the season, and wondered how many more years that would remain something to look forward to, before his siblings had their own lives and homes to return to instead.
He longed for something more meaningful.
Yes, his part in the Bridgerton legacy was important but he was just the current keeper in what would hopefully be a long line of Viscounts.
He wanted something that was his own.
It was only recently that he realized that could be his wife, and future children. His own small family amidst the chaos of his siblings and their children.
It was a rather sentimental thought, and not one Anthony was eager to share with Simon or Benedict, although the latter was such a romantic he would surely understand. But it was a new feeling for Anthony and one he wasn't quite ready to share with anyone.
Except maybe with the source of his new purpose in life.
Penelope.
He was certain she would understand what he was feeling.
They had so much in common, when he thought about it. He was sure Penelope would understand his feelings, and as she was so smart and observant, he had a suspicion she might even understand his feelings better than he did.
It was with this new sense of purpose on his mind that Anthony practically bounced out of bed.
There were many things he needed to do today, but there was no way he could sneak out of the house and get to the flower shop without answering what was surely an exam's worth of questions.
Besides, he was the man of this house. He would not cower in front of his family regarding his plans to court Penelope.
Even if he had cowered a bit last night and escaped home earlier in the evening than the rest.
But no more!
Anthony quickly took care of his morning needs, dressed, and made his way to the dining room for breakfast.
It seemed his whole family was there. Of course they would be eager to continue speculating about what they had seen last night. And god forbid any of them missed a chance to ask him this morning. Gregory and Hyacinth seemed up to their normal antics, and he was certain no one had clued them in yet. This certainly wasn't going to be enjoyable, but he stood up straight and made his way in.
He was half way to his seat when Violet practically jumped out of hers as she noticed his arrival.
"Oh! Anthony darling, good morning. How lovely to see you for breakfast." She was certainly trying to sound normal but trying was the key word.
Eloise had also perked up. "Yes brother, I'm so glad you're here. Now you can tell us what in God's name you're doing."
Eloise, always one for subtlety.
Violet sighed, Benedict looked amused at the coming entertainment, Francesca looked nervous, and even Gregory and Hyacinth stopped their bickering to see what was going on.
Anthony calmly fixed his coffee with a bit of cream and sugar, took a sip, and set his cup back down before looking up at his sister and deciding to answer her. She certainly was not owed an answer from her older brother, and it was his love for her that he would even offer it. But not without reminding everyone present that he was the Viscount, and as the head of this family he could not be spoken to in this manner.
"I see that your excitement has caused you to forget your manners, Eloise. I will not begrudge you this lapse in judgment this time, but please, do be more careful going forward."
Eloise's jaw dropped. She couldn't remember the last time Anthony had needed to scold her in any way. Violet sensing the tension and not trusting Eloise to take notice decided to cut in.
"Anthony dear, we are all simply, surprised, by this new development. We are all very, very excited as you can tell and so happy."
"I wouldn't say all." Eloise really could not hold her tongue.
"Gregory. Hyacinth. Please continue your games in the drawing room if you have finished your breakfast. I need to have a word with Eloise." Anthony meant business. He hoped it wouldn't come to this, but he knew there was a chance he would need to have this discussion with Eloise. Better to do it now than later when he would hopefully be celebrating.
"Oh but I want to know what's happening!" Hyacinth whined.
"Me too." Gregory chimed in, although Anthony could tell he was more torn between doing what his brother asked and his curiosity than Hyacinth was.
"You will both go to the drawing room now. I will speak to you both later. But first, I must speak with Eloise." Anthony was putting his foot down with everyone this morning it seemed.
The two youngest looked nervous about what was going on but did not want to risk being excluded or further treated as children if they did not obey. So they quickly stood and left for the drawing room. But not without a few glances at each of their family members at the table, searching for some hint or clue as to what was going on.
Once the two left, Anthony turned to Eloise, who had her arms crossed and was glaring at her plate as if it had been the one to offend her.
"Eloise, I am going to Featherington House this morning, and I am going to ask Penelope if I may court her. And I hope that with some time, she might agree to marry me." Anthony said it plainly, but there was a hint of hope in his voice that his sister would try to understand and not rage against him at the idea.
"Oh, that's wonderful Anthony!" Violet exclaimed as if her prayers had just been answered. She and Francesca turned to each other with absolute glee on their faces.
"Why Penelope? Why must you court my best friend?" Eloise was not backing down. They would need to have this conversation right now and put an end to this.
"Because she's a wonderful young lady. Smart, caring, kind, intelligent, pretty, sweet, beautiful, and perfect for this family." Anthony felt defensive. Why wouldn't he want to marry Penelope? Was his sister as blind as the rest of the ton?
Anthony's temper was rising, otherwise he would have noticed the way Benedict tilted his head at him and smirked at his list.
"Of course I know all of those things. But why Penelope? You could marry anyone with those characteristics. Why did you need to steal my best friend?" At this Eloise truly looked hurt. With eight siblings, it can be difficult to have something of your own, especially when you are in the middle the way Eloise was. At that moment Anthony realized just why this was so difficult for Eloise.
"El," his voice softened. "Penelope will always be your best friend. But now she will be your sister too. Doesn't that make you happy? To know that she'll be with us at every family gathering. That she will be with us at Aubrey Hall when the season ends. That she will officially be a member of this family." God the thought made Anthony happier than he imagined.
"Of course but," Eloise paused, clearly struggling to articulate her pain. "But we had plans. Penelope would marry Lord Debling, we would influence his vote in Parliament matters, and we would live happily on his estate pretending to be the spinsters we always wanted to be. Unbothered!" She added a little quieter, "I wasn't meant to have to share Penelope with her husband."
In a moment of what had to have been insanity, Anthony understood exactly how Eloise felt. He wasn't keen on sharing Penelope with his family either. In fact, he was already thinking of how in the world he would manage to steal his own wife away from his siblings. But Penelope was a person. Someone he wanted to build a life with. And in some ways that meant building it with his family too. They would have to find balance.
"Eloise, I know you had plans but Penelope cannot marry Lord Debling." He held up a hand to stop her interruption. "For one, I don't think this family could bear the idea of Penelope being so far away, and seeing so little of her. And on a more serious note, I don't believe you quite understand the obstacles Penelope has since the passing of her father. It is not something I wished to share with you, out of respect for Penelope and her family I would not wish to discuss such delicate matters with her best friend. Something she is certainly embarrassed by. But El, the previous Lord Featherington did not manage his finances well. And his sudden passing has not helped matters. Even the delay in her sister's marriage was primarily due to questions around the dowry. It may be very very difficult for Penelope to marry a Lord when many were aware of the Late Lord Featherington's increasing debts."
He heard the gasps from his mother and Francesca, as well as a small tsk from Benedict as he shook his head in disappointment.
He could see Eloise's eyes grow wide as he explained.
"Why wouldn't Penelope tell me?" Eloise looked hurt for a completely different reason now.
"El, I'm sure she would have wanted to. But she may not have fully understood the situation. I'm not sure how much Lady Featherington has shared with her daughters. Her sisters don't seem to have a care in the world. But you know Penelope is smart. She, more than any of the others, would recognize if they were in financial trouble. She just may not be aware of the extent of it." Anthony tried to explain to Eloise in a way that she would not only understand but recognize that this was not about her.
"Besides, imagine how embarrassed she must feel. Even if she does know, the shame at her father's mismanagement, coupled with the grief of his sudden passing. Perhaps she just isn't ready to discuss what she does know yet." Anthony continued to reassure Eloise, but he could see the genuine concern for her best friend on her face.
"El," he continued. "I am not saying this because I want to scare you, and I certainly hope you will not share this conversation with Penelope. Aside from what she may or may not be aware of, the reminder that others know would embarrass her."
"Of course. I.. I would never want to add to Penelope's hurt. I had no idea. I feel terrible that I was going on with some silly plan while she could be so terrified of, of their financial burdens." Eloise may be single minded, but she whole heartedly loved her friend.
"I know Eloise, but you didn't know. And I have a feeling your friendship means the world to Penelope too. But I'm also telling you this so that you understand, I could be the best option Penelope has. She is near and dear to this family. I care for her as do the rest of us. I would not have taken the step to court her lightly. I would never risk further hurting her. You've seen how attached she is to our family."
"She's already a part of our family!" Eloise insisted.
"I know that Eloise. You know that. This whole family knows and accepts that. But by society's standards, I do not have any right to protect Penelope. As my wife, she could be an official member of this family and that would mean that she has the same protection that you and Francesca do. That Daphne had when she had her debut. That Hyacinth will have when she debuts, god help us all." Anthony felt like he was pleading but she had to see reason.
"Do you love her?"
It was Anthony's turn to have his jaw drop.
He closed and opened his mouth but nothing came out.
"Anthony, do you love her?" Eloise persisted.
Anthony let out a sigh. "El, I will not lie to you and claim to love her at this moment. Maybe one day I will in a way that is suitable for Penelope and I. But will you truly take issue with this courtship over romantic love? Plenty of marriages have taken place for less. Would you truly deny your best friend protection in this harsh society, simply because I do not love her as you have read about in your novels?"
Eloise stared at him. He could see her mind thinking on his last words. He hoped she would understand the gravity of Penelope's situation, as well as trust that Anthony was not some scoundrel simply playing with her best friend's heart. He could never.
Eloise let out a sigh. Although it was more of a groan and he could tell his mother wanted to correct it for some more lady-like behavior, but now didn't seem like the time.
"Fine. You've made it clear you do not require my blessing, but I appreciate you telling me all this brother. Even if I'm not happy about it, I know you will protect Penelope. And if I know Penelope, she will be forever grateful for it." The whole room seemed to breathe again at these words.
Anthony must have visibly relaxed because his sister felt the need to add to his tension. "However, I do not intend to share Penelope with you. She was my best friend first. And should she decide to accept your suit she will be your wife, second. Therefore, I shall always have priority when dividing Penelope's time."
Benedict chuckled and Violet looked like she was bracing herself for the very uncomfortable discussion she would need to have with Eloise about boundaries, especially boundaries with newlyweds.
"Of course." Anthony's sarcasm had Eloise narrowing her eyes, but thankfully there was no further discussion.
"This is wonderful, brother! Gregory and Hyacinth will be so excited to hear the news." Francesca was a darling. Of course the whole family would be happy at the possibility, and she didn't want to keep the good news from the young ones much longer. Having just had her debut, Francesca remembered what it was like to be left out of certain family discussions.
At that, Anthony looked to Benedict. "Yes, I'm sure they will both be happy at the news."
Benedict caught his anxiety and nodded in understanding. Gregory might not take this as well as the rest of the family. Not as poorly as Eloise, but he had technically been the first Bridgerton to ask for Penelope's hand in marriage. He may not take losing to his eldest brother well.
"I'll go tell them now. I'm sure they are racing back to the drawing room now if there weren't listening at the door." Anthony stood to leave. "I'll be heading out shortly after to pick up some flowers before visiting Featherington House at calling hours."
His mother nodded in approval, and Francesca clasped her hands in front of her chest, practically squealing with delight.
Benedict stood and patted him on the shoulder. "Good luck brother. I can't think of a more noble suitor for our dear Penelope."
On his way to the door he put his hand on Eloise's shoulder. She slowly looked up at him as she came out of some deep thought.
"El, thank you for understanding. I promise I will never intentionally hurt her. You know that, don't you?"
She placed her hand on his and nodded. "Go tell the little monsters before they burst into flames at having to wait. And good luck with Gregory. I thought he would be the brother to try and steal my best friend. I'm not sure how he'll take it when he finds out his older brother has done it instead."
He could tell by the little smirk on her lips that she didn't pity Anthony that conversation.
Anthony made quick work of telling Gregory and Hyacinth his plan to court Penelope and possibly ask her to marry him if they got on. He decided to be straight forward. If he chose now to practice more Benedict-like speech he would certainly make a mess of things, and he simply did not have the time to fix those messes today. He had flowers to choose and a young lady to woo.
Hyacinth was beyond excited and jumped into his arms. Apparently a new sister had been what Hyacinth most wanted, although he had a feeling it wasn't just any sister she wanted, but Penelope who was special.
Anthony couldn't think on it too long as he was mostly watching Gregory.
The young man was quiet, but he walked over when Hyacinth finally released Anthony.
Anthony was suddenly so nervous he could feel his heart racing. This was Gregory. He couldn't bear to be the cause of his hurt, but whatever hurt this might cause, he would need him to get past it.
Gregory reached Anthony and held out his hand for Anthony to shake.
Anthony simply stared at it a moment before he reached out with his own hand.
"Congratulations brother. You are a lucky man. If only I had been older. But do not worry, I promise to think of Penelope only as a sister." His words had turned Anthony's heart from racing to big, booming thumps. He thought his heart might beat right out of his chest.
He pulled Gregory in for a hug.
"When did you become so wise? I certainly wasn't this mature at your age." Anthony pulled him in close and put a small kiss on the top of Gregory's head. He didn't quite understand how time had passed so quickly, but he was becoming desperate to make it stop, to keep everyone here in this moment, just as they are.
Gregory hugged back before stepping back. "Just promise me you'll take care of her."
Anthony gave Gregory's hair a little toss. "I promise."
It was a good thing Anthony was determined to protect Penelope with his life, because otherwise it seemed he had seven siblings, a mother, a brother-in-law, and at least one nephew for the time being, that he would have to answer to.
Anthony was just in time for calling hours. He walked up the steps to the Featherington House with a bouquet in hand.
It had taken him some time to decide exactly what he would bring. He remembered wondering that morning in the drawing room which flowers he would bring for Penelope, not quite deciding because it had seemed silly at the time when he would ever get the chance.
Now here he was, hoping with all his heart he had made the right choices. This would be the first of many bouquets she would receive from him if all went to plan. But he just needed this one to be perfect for the rest to work.
He looked down again at his creation.
He had asked for pink Provence roses. He had remembered his earlier thought, that she would not be so easily impressed by some simple roses, but these weren't just any roses. No, the lush petals of these roses looked like clouds, and they were the same soft pink as Penelope's blush. The one he wanted to encourage so terribly, and so often. And the sweet brier was a deeper, more vibrant pink. Anthony may not be a fan of more striking colors typically, but its petals were blooming at its peak, each of the large petals open wide as if ready to embrace the world. He had been inspired to imagine Penelope falling into his embrace when he asked to court her.
After his discussion with Eloise earlier, he fancied himself a knight in shining armor, and he felt only a little bit smug as he imagined Penelope falling in love with her savior, as he whisked her away from her family and their potential financial ruin.
He shook those thoughts away, needing to finish with the bouquet if he was ever going to make his way to Featherington House and actually ask to court her. God forbid his stupid daydreams kept him roaming about the flower shop and missing calling hours completely.
He had quickly asked for myrtle to be added to the bouquet, sprinkled throughout like little surprises, the way she had continued to surprise him.
He wanted the bouquet to look soft and angelic. Romantic even. The kind a hero would give to a heroine in one of those novels Anthony was certain Penelope had read. Between Eloise and Francesca, he was certain Penelope's feelings towards those novels would lean similar to Francesca's, and he did not want to disappoint her in that vein.
For all he made it sound as if he was her only hope to Eloise, Anthony knew that Penelope deserved to be truly courted. He wanted to give her that. He never wanted her to feel pity again. Not if they were to be equals. He wanted her to know she had a choice, and he wanted her more than anything to choose him.
He took one last deep breath and knocked on the door.
The doorman who answered seemed surprised, but hid it fairly well.
"I am here to call on Miss Penelope Featherington. Please inquire whether the family is willing to see Viscount Anthony Bridgerton this morning." Anthony wasn't sure how else to announce himself, but he sounded pompous even in his own ears. God he hoped Penelope said yes. He didn't think he could do this again, and he certainly couldn't imagine any woman he would be willing to do it for more than he would for Penelope.
The doorman quickly moved to notify the family. He returned shortly after and bid Anthony to follow him to the drawing room where the family was gathered.
He entered holding the bouquet in front of him and quickly scanned the room for Penelope, his eyes finding her and lighting up at the sight.
She was in a simple day dress, her hair pulled to one side in sweet curls.
He quickly gathered his thoughts.
"Good day Lady Featherington." He turned to her sister, "Miss Featherington," and finally he turned back to Penelope, "and Miss Featherington." He gave a small bow before turning back to Lady Featherington.
"I hope you don't mind but I wanted to call on Miss Penelope Featherington this morning. If I could have just a few moments."
Lady Featherington, despite having seen them dance last night, and having had the doorman announce Anthony's arrival moments before, looked as if she couldn't believe this was happening.
"Of, of course!" she stuttered in her response, finally finding her words.
"Penelope darling," she smiled the widest grin Anthony had seen in quite some time. And with Eloise and Francesca both out in society, he had been the recipient of many of those grins from matchmaking mamas this season, but they would all pale in comparison to this one. Lady Featherington was about to strike gold, and he would need to keep an eye on her, lest she ruin this for him and Penelope.
Penelope stepped forward and Anthony met her half way, giving her a small bow and holding out the bouquet. "For you."
He watched her with baited breath. She was looking down at the bouquet and Anthony prayed it was to her liking. When she finally looked up at him through her lashes, he saw that highly sought after blush, and a brightness in her eyes that made him believe she liked it.
"Thank you, my Lord." Her voice was so sweet, Anthony had a brief moment where he wanted to swallow every sound that left her mouth in the hopes of tasting her sweetness.
He simply beamed back at her, grinning like some idiot. She handed the bouquet to a maid who would likely put them in water, though Anthony almost wished he could watch her hold the bouquet and admire the sight for hours. Perhaps that would be the portrait Benedict paints. Penelope, holding a bouquet of flowers. A bouquet he brought her.
"Please, have a seat. The tea should be arriving shortly." She gestured to the chaise lounge in the center of the room.
"Of course." He stepped forward and she followed his lead. They sat down, an appropriate distance between them, and silence ensued. He had been so focused on the bouquet he hadn't thought much about what he would do next. How exactly did one begin the conversation to officially court a young lady?
"How has your day been, my Lord?" Penelope began the conversation, always saving him from his own fumbling.
"It has been rather uneventful so far. And unfortunately, I have only estate matters to attend to after this. This is rather the highlight of my entire day." He smiled at her, knowing that last compliment would elicit a blush.
"Oh how sweet of you to say Lord Bridgerton." Lady Featherington broke the small spell that was circling them, and with her interruption Anthony remembered they had an audience.
"Uh yes, well, Lady Featherington I hear you have an exceptional garden. The weather is rather nice today and I would love to see it, if you would allow Miss Featherington to give me a small tour of the gardens. Perhaps one of the maids could act as chaperone." Anthony quickly added the last suggestion, in the hopes that their audience wouldn't follow them to the gardens.
Overwhelmed by the compliments, Lady Featherington shook her head with enough energy to cause an injury and agreed.
Anthony quickly rose, before she could change her mind or anyone else could join, and held out a hand for Penelope. Sensing his plan, she quickly put her hand in his and rose from the chaise lounge.
"This way to the gardens, my Lord." Penelope led the way. The maid who had gone to put the flowers in a vase returned as they were leaving and Penelope asked her to follow them to the gardens as a chaperone.
Anthony thought himself rather clever for having thought of an appropriate way to escape their audience. Although, if he had to bet on it, he would wager that Lady Featherington would have no true qualms about any inappropriate behavior on Anthony's part. Not if it meant she could trap him into marrying her daughter.
Even if it would bring him to his goal, he did not want that. He wanted Penelope to know that he chose her, the way he wanted her to choose him. This would be something they chose together, as partners. As he hoped they would make all other choices in the future.
When they arrived in the garden, he was astonished to find that it was a rather lovely garden.
There were a variety of blooms, in different shapes and colors. It was a bit wild, and certainly vibrant, much like the Featherington's wardrobes. But there was something utterly cheerful about it. Something almost magical about all the beautiful flowers of the world being here in this little garden.
And Penelope in this garden was a vision. She led the way to a small bench where they could continue their conversation, but he was entranced. The sway of her hips, the effortless beauty in her features. She looked like some maiden goddess in a wild meadow surrounded by these flowers. God help him, but Anthony couldn't shake the thought of ravishing his maiden goddess in that meadow fast enough.
He quickly followed Penelope to the bench, when she peered over her shoulder at him.
The maid had kept quite a bit of distance, and Anthony thought to reward her for the discretion. He tried to make note of which maid this was in case he needed to discreetly meet Penelope again.
Of course he wouldn't do that. He was a gentleman. He needed to think and act like a gentleman.
But God was the rake in him ever present.
As they both sat down, they looked at each other, both looking at the other for some hint or sign. For once, Anthony was determined that he would gather his courage and save them from the discomfort before Penelope could. He owed her this much.
"How are you? After last night? I know you were worried about everything, but I hope it was manageable. I promise I didn't make any more references to your heartbreaking rejection of me the first time." He added that last bit in the hopes of making her laugh. Even placing his hand over his heart with a level of flair Benedict would have appreciated.
It worked. She shook her head at him but there was a small smile on her lips. "Everything was alright. My mother had started to understand that your family is fond of me when I received the dress from Daphne. So your attention last night seemed an extension of that. And luckily no one who overheard your exaggeration about my rejecting you mentioned anything that would alert her further." She gave him a pointed look at this last bit, and he should have been chastised, but he simply gave her his most charming smile.
"And this morning I simply stayed out of sight until just before calling hours, in the hopes of avoiding any further discussion about our dance or how my acquaintance with the Bridgertons could help Prudence and I in finding husbands." Penelope sighed, clearly fed up with her mother's scheming.
"And now I've arrived to call on you and this will certainly fuel more of those discussions." At this Anthony actually looked abashed. "If I could, I would save you from it. Although, as I am here to ask her for permission to court you, the conversations will be less about how our acquaintance can help you find a husband and more that you have found one."
"Anthony." She gave him another pointed look.
"Say it again. Please. I schemed to bring us out here for privacy just so I could hear you call me by my name." Anthony practically pleaded. "Well, not just for that, but I promise it was a largely motivating factor."
She giggled. "God it really is in your blood isn't it? How Bridgerton men are just so charming."
"Possibly, but I can't say I want us thinking about how charming my brothers are at this moment." When had he gotten so jealous?
"Oh? And what would you like us to think about at this moment, Anthony?" She paused before adding his name and he felt as if she had given him some special boon.
"I would like to think about our courtship, Penelope. I mean to leave here only after receiving permission from your mother to court you. However, I can see that you have been concerned for a number of reasons, some of which I can't say I fully understand. I want to know why you are so against this. I want to put your mind at ease before I speak to your mother. Please, Penelope. Help me understand."
She took a deep breath, and he watched her slowly exhale. She looked ready for battle. He couldn't understand, but he needed to. And she needed to give him the chance to understand.
He held his breath, waiting for her to begin. Praying that they could plant this first seed of trust between them, here in this garden.
"There are many things I am worried about, least of which is what members of the ton will think when they see us together. You are aware they have not been kind to me." She looked to him for confirmation.
"I am aware, although I can't say I understand where that all began. But I want to understand all of your worries Penelope. The largest and the smallest."
His sincerity must have been clear on his face because she took one more breath and began.
"First, you should know that I do not have a dowry. I am certain of it. Please do not say that it does not matter because it does. There are many accomplished young ladies in the ton, all who would make wonderful wives to very lucky men, but their dowries are often their limiting factor."
Anthony wanted to assure her, her lack of dowry would not be a problem for them. The Bridgerton estate was doing well. If anything her dowry would have remained with her in case anything were ever to happen to him. But he would simply adjust some of the funds and investments to ensure that those funds were set aside for Penelope regardless.
"My mother is not thinking of this now, but if we were to continue this courtship and were to marry, she would need to confess that I do not have a dowry. I worry to think what scheme she might attempt in order to avoid having to admit it. So, I would ask you to assure her at the time that you do not require any dowry. Then, I shall provide my dowry myself." She looked him in the eyes when she said this last part.
"Penelope, that is very admirable for you to offer and you are an angel to think so far in order to protect your mother from further embarrassment, but I assure you that I do not need or want a dowry from you. I would much rather you actually enjoy your pin money." He knew there couldn't have been much of it, given the increasing debts, but it was sweet of her to offer.
"Anthony," she was looking at him with a poise that made him pause. Whatever she was about to share with him was important.
She watched him as his eyes widened and he sat up a bit straighter. He had hoped to ease her worries, but this suddenly seemed more serious than he anticipated.
"Anthony," she started again. "I will provide my dowry. It may not be much, compared to what you can provide for your sisters, but it's a matter of pride, and I have already decided that I would do this. I only ask that you assure my mother a dowry is not needed. At the time of our marriage, I will provide ten thousand pounds within the week."
Anthony's jaw dropped. That wasn't pin money.
"Wha- How-" he couldn't seem to form the words. "Penelope, how in the world do you have ten thousand pounds. That is not an unsubstantial dowry. But more importantly, how is it that your mother is unaware of these funds?"
He was absolutely shocked. He simply couldn't comprehend how that was possible.
She looked away and took another one of those deep breaths. Again preparing for battle. God, he couldn't even imagine what was coming next.
"Anthony, the funds are my earnings." Penelope said softly.
Oh god. She had turned to prostitution. His poor Penelope. He never would have guessed things had become so dire. How had she managed to maintain such a cheerful demeanor in his home while having to turn to such methods in order to survive.
"I am Lady Whistledown." He almost didn't hear her over the spiraling thoughts in his head.
He whipped up to look at her. "I beg your pardon."
Her shoulders caved inward and she sunk back, looking nervous. But then she straightened her shoulders and carried forward. "I am Lady Whistledown."
He was relieved she had not turned to prostitution but he also wasn't quite sure what to do with this information.
After a pause she continued. "The money I will provide as my dowry, it is my earnings as Lady Whistledown. I have been saving it for years, and had originally hoped to earn enough to live comfortably as a spinster. But if you are certain that you wish to court me, and that we will likely marry, then I would rather use that money as a proper dowry. But if this changes everything and you no longer wish to court me, I only ask that you please keep this secret between us. I do not believe your family will take kindly to this news and I couldn't bear to lose them" She sounded so distraught at this last request, Anthony finally came back to his senses.
He quickly organized his thoughts, and then he laughed.
Penelope looked terrified, and Anthony laughed again.
"Penelope, oh my god Penelope! I should have known. How could I not have guessed it? You are so clever. And so witty. I've watched you manage all of my siblings and their chaos, of course you would have figured out all the subtle and secret dynamics within the ton. It must have been so easy for you to see through anyone's façade."
He was absolutely floored. He needed to know how she had done it but then realization dawned.
"Oh god. I told you the Bridgerton name, and opinion, carry a significant weight. I said that to the Lady Whistledown. No one's opinion is more sought after than yours." He laughed at the irony.
Suddenly his thoughts stopped in their tracks.
"Wait a moment. Why is Lady Whistledown so cruel to you then? This whole time, you could have changed the ton's opinion of you but you continued to side against yourself. Why?"
Penelope sighed, looking a bit relaxed now that it was clear his reaction wouldn't be one of anger. "I couldn't show favoritism to any one person too much, to avoid any suspicion or being found out. There have been times where I have had to comment on well known items in the ton. If the entire ton views Penelope Featherington a certain way, it would be suspicious for Lady Whistledown to have a completely different opinion. Similar to how I must comment on any public scandal. I can't seem to be out of touch with the rest of society."
She was brilliant. She wasn't simply reporting idle gossip. She had garnered significant influence in the ton, without even a title.
"You are incredible." Anthony was absolutely awestruck, and his praise brought back that beautiful blush. The one he would give his life for.
"Thank you. I needed you to know before we moved further. If you change your mind about this courtship I will understand, just please, I beg you not to tell your family."
"Penelope, I have not changed my mind. I am beyond impressed. You will have to tell me just how you managed all this one day. But first, your secret will remain between us. I would never put you in such danger. I don't believe any of my siblings could keep such a secret." He watched the tension leave her face. Well, at least that was one worry he had addressed. Two if you count the matter of the dowry.
But at the mention of his siblings he remembered something else.
"Penelope, when you wrote about your cousin, Miss Thompson, you risked your siblings' position in society for mine. You all could have been caught in the backlash with the young lady. And yet you published it." Her cheeks were now burning. This wasn't the rosy blush from before. "Why?"
"I couldn't let Colin be misled. I tried to tell him, and I begged Marina to be honest with Colin and tell him the truth. But she refused, and Colin… he wouldn't listen. He was so certain they were in love. And he may have been in love, but I knew Marina was lying to him. I couldn't let him be tricked." She looked down and he felt his gut wrenching. This was more than just protecting Colin from lies.
"Penelope, was it simply to protect Colin from being tricked?" He held his breath. He had his suspicions but he had put them aside, because Colin had proposed to Penelope's cousin. He assumed that there was nothing between them then. But he should have considered that there might be something for Penelope. Why did the thought of it make him want to scream?
"If you are asking whether I had feelings for your brother, the answer is yes." Anthony felt his heart crumble. "I am certain that it played no part in my decision, but I also understand how no one would truly believe that. All I can assure you is that whatever feelings I had for your brother were simply the infatuation of some young lady who was grateful for the attention, albeit however miniscule, from a young man. But I have learned my lesson, and those feelings are long gone."
Anthony should have been relieved that she did not have feelings for his brother, but something in her words was unsettling.
"Penelope, did," God did he even want to know. He was already in a panic at the thought. "Did something happen, with Colin? Did he do something to hurt you." He could already feel his anger rising.
Penelope would not meet his eyes but simply looked straight ahead, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. From her profile, he watched as a sob caught in her throat and she swallowed it.
It seemed he would begin with Colin on his rampage.
"You wanted to know how or why the men of the ton were so thoroughly persuaded against pursuing me. Well, it seems I was not the only one with some silly notion that the friendship between Colin and I could be more. Some of the young men asked Colin last season at Mama's ball if he was courting me. Colin asked them if they were mad. He told them he 'would never dream of courting Penelope Featherington.'"
Anthony saw red.
"It's as you said, the Bridgerton name, and opinion, carry a significant weight in our society. Colin could have said we were simply friends. He could have told them that I was like a sister to him, just like Eloise. He could have told them I was just a very good family friend. But instead, the man I fawned over, the man I thought of as a good friend, the man I accepted would never love me back the way I fancied I loved him, mocked me in my own home. He ridiculed me in front of his friend, all eligible men within the ton, and ensured that whatever chances I may have had at finding a husband were well and truly destroyed."
Anthony was going to travel to wherever Colin was to kill him. He wouldn't even wait until he was home.
"I learned in that moment that the Colin in my dreams I fancied I was in love with, was not the Colin I had befriended. And with the blindfold of whatever childish crush I harbored, lifted, I found that I no longer have any feelings for your brother."
Penelope looked at him then. There was a pain in her eyes, but there was also a determination to move beyond it. Anthony, however, would not be moving past it, and would absolutely be committing fratricide. He may even share this bit of information with Gregory and allow him to assist.
"Penelope, I cannot tell you how sorry I am that my idiot brother could be so careless with your reputation. I have been fuming at Benedict for weeks, and meanwhile Colin has done significant damage. How can I make amends for this?" Anthony was turning into a ball of nerves. He was here to ease her worries, but he hadn't anticipated any of this.
"Anthony, what's done is done. And it is not your actions that hurt me, therefore it isn't up to you to make amends. I shared all this not so that you would be tasked with cleaning Colin's mess. I shared this because I want you to believe that I am well and truly done with my infatuation with your brother. If we move forward with this courtship, you will be the only man I think of."
He could feel his heart starting to race again. He wanted so desperately to be the only man she thought of.
"And I hope," she suddenly looked shy, "that I will be the only woman you think of."
"How could I think of any other woman when I am mesmerized by this blush that appears on your lovely cheeks?" He was a bumbling idiot for admitting it, but when the blush on her cheeks deepened, he decided it was worth it.
"Penelope, I do not mind your dowry, I do not mind that you are Lady Whistledown, but please promise me you will tell me more soon, and I am relieved that you do not have feelings for any of my other brothers. Please, will you allow me to ask your mother for permission to court you." They would need to return soon. They had already spent an inappropriate amount of time here, and even with the maid as chaperone, Anthony knew they were pressing their luck.
"Oh Anthony, I would be honored to be courted by you." Of course Penelope wouldn't simply agree. She would accept in the most beautiful way possible, with the sweetest words. Words that could make a man stand tall and puff out his chest.
Anthony didn't do that at all. He simply had very, very good posture when he stood. He was a gentleman after all.
He held out a hand for her to take, and when she rose he placed her hand in the crook of his elbow.
"Let us return to the drawing room so that I may ask your mother for permission to officially court you." She smiled up at him and nodded, waiting for him to lead the way back. But he paused right where they were, in this beautiful garden, with his angel, trying to commit this moment to memory.
"You have made me incredibly happy today Penelope. I hope to make you just as happy soon."
She blushed at his words, and he led them back towards the house, musing about what kind of bouquet he would bring next
Part 2
Chapter 1: Penelope
Penelope had barely slept a wink the night before.
She tossed and she turned.
And tossed and turned.
And no matter how much she wanted to sleep, her mind simply could not give up trying to understand Anthony Bridgerton.
"I want you, and I would prefer it if the other gentlemen stayed out of our way."
That's what he had said.
And he had been serious.
As serious as dancing the waltz with her in that ballroom, in front of everyone.
If she hadn't spent so much time trying to fall asleep the night before, she would have been certain that it was all a dream. But it couldn't have been. Her mother hadn't stopped talking about how wonderful this would be for her and Prudence's prospects. Penelope was worried her mother wasn't quite breathing enough as Lady Featherington didn't seem to take any pause in her ongoing speech about the success in having Viscount Bridgerton dance with one of her daughters. Surely the lack of air would have fueled her mother's fanciful machinations after just one dance.
No, last night wasn't a dream. But trying to understand what had come over Anthony was about as fruitful as interpreting dreams.
Anthony.
"I would like to invite you to use my name."
Goodness. The request alone had felt so intimate. His words had sent goosebumps all over her skin and her heart racing.
She couldn't remember the last time she had been so nervous. But his name felt so wonderful on her lips.
What she wouldn't give to luxuriate in that feeling.
Best not to. Obviously, Anthony had gone mad, because he said he was going to court her.
Anthony Bridgerton.
Viscount Anthony Bridgerton.
The man could pursue any young lady in the ton and be assured she would accept. He could claim the diamond and most other sane gentlemen would likely give up their pursuits. Because truly, how could anyone compete with the Viscount?
Anyone, absolutely anyone, would accept his proposal. The most desirable young lady could be his with minimal effort. Why was he planning to court her? The frumpy wallflower.
If this had been any other gentlemen of the ton, Penelope could dismiss the words as some cruel joke. A mean attempt to raise her hopes and watch them come crashing down before the ton.
But Anthony was honorable. He would never ridicule a young lady so publicly.
Anthony wasn't Colin.
She quickly pushed that thought aside. She was determined not to think any further about the hurt Colin had caused her. He had shown his carelessness as a "friend," and the only thing to do now was keep a distance.
It certainly wasn't going to help her understand what had brought Anthony to this decision.
And when he arrived today, because he would, Anthony Bridgerton always had and always would stick to his word, she would have to manage her mother's excitement and hopes along with trying to determine what had come over him.
She sighed in resignation.
This was going to be no easy feat, but she had to brace herself.
She would wait until the moment before calling hours began to show herself. While she couldn't do much to avoid the coming fiasco, she could at least avoid her mother's over zealous ramblings and conserve her energy.
Penelope avoided her mother and sister at breakfast, asking Rey, her ladies maid, to bring her a small repast to break her fast. Then she prepared herself for calling hours.
She donned one of the less offensive dresses she owned. Her mother would surely admonish her for choosing something so lackluster in her opinion, but as Penelope planned to join her mother and sister shortly before calling hours she hoped that would limit the time available for Lady Featherington to complain.
Penelope checked the clock in the hallway and noted calling hours had just begun. She should already be in the drawing room, so she took one deep, fortifying breath and made her way in.
"Penelope, finally you have deemed to leave your room. What have you been doing all morning? And why are you wearing such a sad dress? We have never been more likely to receive callers and you are dressed in such a somber color." Portia Featherington always cut to the quick with her daughters.
It was not that she was not capable of being kinder or polite, she simply reserved such efforts for the members of the ton outside of her family it seemed. For her daughters, it was imperative that she not mince words or risk raising fools.
Penelope wasn't sure how well that had worked, considering both of her sisters seemed oblivious to the precarious state of their family's finances and reputation. But perhaps that was partly due to their nature, or simply they did not want to see how close they were to ruin.
"Hello mother. With all the excitement last evening, I decided to take time and properly calm myself. I wouldn't want to seem overly eager or desperate before any callers that may visit today." Penelope was certain this was a much more acceptable response compared to "I couldn't listen to another word of your scheming without losing my appetite completely."
It seemed to be the correct response and Portia nodded in agreement.
"Yes, well that is certainly a smart use of your morning. Although why you wore such a sad dress is beyond me. You must appear cheerful before the callers." Portia couldn't simply pay any sort of compliment without adding a critique.
Penelope knew making excuses or arguing with her mother would be futile. So she simply gave a small nod in agreement and headed for her usual seat by the window to resume reading her book. It would be a long and painful calling hour, what with her mother and sister both so sure that they would receive callers today. Penelope dreaded the way each passing moment would lead to greater and greater disappointment for them both.
She understood why they were hopeful, but as she had none herself she couldn't help but feel they were incredibly misguided. How could they not realize they were practically the laughing stock of the ton.
If it wasn't their loud fashion choices, it was their father's scandal and absolute disgrace having left his family with incredible debts. Even if a caller were to arrive today, what suitor would continue to pursue a woman who didn't have a dowry?
Certainly not any man with options.
Penelope wasn't able to dread the coming disappointment long before the footmen arrived to announce there was a visitor.
Penelope sat frozen, because she could not have heard him correctly.
There is no way that the very man she named a "capital R" rake as Lady Whistledown was here, at the start of calling hours.
She had known he would commit to calling on her, but somehow the reality was still shocking.
If it was not for her mother, jumping into action, Penelope would have simply stared at the footmen in disbelief.
Viscount Anthony Bridgerton was here. In the Featherington home. To call on her.
"Put down that book Penelope and smile. You look like you're going to catch flies with your jaw hanging like that." Portia hissed at her youngest. "And sit up straight."
How Portia went from hissing to smiling the brightest smile she reserved for members of the ton so quickly was a skill on its own.
And not a moment too soon, as the footmen arrived to announce the arrival of the Viscount before he entered.
Holding a bouquet.
This couldn't be real. Perhaps this was all a dream, and she had dreamt that she was tossing and turning and she dreamt all of this morning, because she had to have been dreaming at this moment.
Anthony Bridgerton had arrived at the Featherington home, with a bouquet.
The loveliest bouquet Penelope had ever seen.
It was not your typical bouquet of roses. While expensive, one could argue that a bouquet of roses was first and foremost a display of wealth. There was no need for Anthony Bridgerton to make a display of his wealth.
No, there was no question about how well situated the Bridgerton finances were. In fact, Anthony Bridgerton had never seemed the least bit stressed in his life, despite seven siblings to care for with his estate.
No, the Bridgerton wealth was more than solid, if there were such a thing. Meaning Anthony Bridgerton did not have to make such simple displays of wealth as bouquets of roses.
The bouquet he brought was a divine creation. Something one of a kind. Something no other young lady would receive.
It was the most romantic bouquet Penelope had ever seen.
The soft and vibrant pinks together were beautiful. The sweet briar communicating a soft and soothing affection.
Of course, Anthony cared for her. He may not have been overt in displays of affection in all the time she had been at Bridgerton House, but he cared diligently for his family, and she had been fortunate enough to be considered a part of that circle.
And the myrtle, so light and bright, sprinkled throughout the bouquet. She knew Anthony was not one to joke about serious matters, but seeing the symbol of love and marriage pop amidst all the pink in the bouquet sparked a hope in her heart. They may not have the kind of love she would dream of, but they would have a love in their marriage. And shouldn't she be so lucky that he was even considering marriage?
The Provence roses were stunning. She knew they did not have an all consuming love or romance between them. Perhaps he had picked them simply because they paired well with the other flowers.
Perhaps he had no idea what any of these flowers symbolized.
Perhaps this is simply what the florist created for the Viscount to take to some lucky young lady.
It may very well all be a happy coincidence. But in that moment that bouquet seemed to blow away all of Penelope's doubts and fears.
Anthony Bridgerton was a man of honor. He would never toy with her.
Whatever his reasons for deciding to court her, they would never be silly or misguided. The man had carefully avoided being attached to any woman or raising any poor matchmaking mamas hopes without reason.
Anthony Bridgerton was a secure and protective man. She believed in him. She just needed a chance to understand how he arrived here, having chosen her.
Their eyes met and she saw it there in the way that he brightened the room.
This would be alright.
They would be alright.
"Good day Lady Featherington." He turned to her sister, "Miss Featherington," and finally he turned back to Penelope, "and Miss Featherington." He gave a small bow before turning back to Lady Featherington.
"I hope you don't mind but I wanted to call on Miss Penelope Featherington this morning. If I could have just a few moments."
Portia, despite having seen them dance last night, and having had the footman announce Anthony's arrival moments before, looked as if she couldn't believe this was happening. Of course she didn't believe it.
For all that Portia had raved about the improvement in Penelope and Prudence's prospects, she had never dreamed that those prospects would actually include the Viscount himself.
"Of, of course!" she stuttered in her response, finally finding her words.
"Penelope darling," she smiled wide, recovering quickly, gesturing for Penelope to come forward.
Penelope stepped forward and Anthony met her half way, giving her a small bow and holding out the bouquet. "For you."
Penelope looked down at the bouquet, admiring its beauty with a closer look. When she finally looked up at him through her lashes, she couldn't help but blush. She hoped the smile on her face would communicate just how much she loved the bouquet, and for a moment she thought she saw relief on Anthony's face. Surely he wasn't waiting for her approval. He must have known this is an exquisite bouquet.
"Thank you, my Lord." The appreciation in her voice was sincere, and she wished she could say more to exclaim just how stunning the bouquet was. But for all her work writing, she was truly at a loss for words in this moment.
Anthony beamed back at her, so her response must have been sufficient.
Though she was reluctant to let go of the bouquet just yet, she handed it to a maid who would likely put them in water. Later she would ensure the bouquet was placed in her room, where she could gaze upon it to her heart's content.
"Please, have a seat. The tea should be arriving shortly." She gestured to the chaise lounge in the center of the room.
"Of course." He stepped forward and she followed his lead. They sat down, an appropriate distance between them, and silence ensued.
She had no idea how to speak to a man who wished to court her. She never even imagined herself in this position.
She realized she was being silly. This was Anthony Bridgerton. They had been to afternoon tea with his mother almost weekly. She could very well have a polite conversation with him.
"How has your day been, my Lord?" Penelope began the conversation. It was the polite thing to do, to ask any guest in their home. A safe choice to start a conversation with a man who just brought her the most romantic bouquet she had ever seen.
"It has been rather uneventful so far. And unfortunately, I have only estate matters to attend to after this. This is rather the highlight of my entire day." He said this with a smile. This was the highlight of his day? Her?
If he continued to make her blush so frequently, her face would certainly blend into her hair shortly.
"Oh how sweet of you to say Lord Bridgerton." Portia broke the small spell that was circling them, and with her interruption Penelope remembered they had an audience. Of course this couldn't be like the afternoon teas at Bridgerton house. They were in the drawing room at the Featherington residence.
Penelope's nerves raced.
"Uh yes, well, Lady Featherington I hear you have an exceptional garden. The weather is rather nice today and I would love to see it, if you would allow Miss Featherington to give me a small tour of the gardens. Perhaps one of the maids could act as chaperone."
Penelope didn't think Anthony actually had heard anything about her mother's garden previously. This had to have been some excuse in order to obtain some bit of privacy for them to speak. Luckily her mother's garden was actually quite lovely. Penelope rather enjoyed reading amongst all the beautiful blooms whenever the weather permitted, and she thanked god she wouldn't have to be embarrassed by some deficient garden after Anthony's gracious compliments.
Portia was clearly overwhelmed by just how gracious the viscount's compliment was, as she couldn't even form words. She simply shook her head with enough energy to cause an injury and agreed.
Anthony quickly rose, and Penelope jumped to follow. They would need to move quickly before her mother suggested she should join them for the tour of her garden.
Anthony held out his hand like a true gentleman and Penelope took it quickly. In all her anxiety of the previous night's events and today's visit, Penelope had forgotten how warm his hands were when they danced.
She knew he managed the state and spent his days looking at ledgers or matters of parliament. It was hardly physically intensive labor. But she could feel the strength in his hands. In them, her small hand felt safe.
"This way to the gardens, my Lord." Penelope led the way. Rey, who had gone to put the flowers in a vase, returned as they were leaving and Penelope asked her to follow them to the gardens as a chaperone.
Penelope was certain they could have "forgotten" to bring along a maid as a chaperone and her mother would have conveniently "forgotten" that oversight as well. At least until she could use it as an excuse for Anthony to marry Penelope. Penelope couldn't allow it.
She needed to speak with Anthony before he officially decided to court her. He needed to know everything before he could make a decision.
He had approached this decision with care. She was certain of it. She had to tell him everything, even if it might change his mind.
Especially because it might change his mind.
They entered the garden and she made her way over towards the bench where she would normally bring her book. It provided a lovely view of all the blooms and would offer a comfortable space for what would certainly be an uncomfortable conversation.
When she peered over her shoulder, she saw Anthony in something like a trance. Although he quickly dismissed whatever shock he must have felt at finding that the garden was, in fact, beautiful and hurried to reach her.
Rey, bless her, had kept quite a bit of distance. Penelope wished she could do more to reward her ladies maid. She truly was a godsend in this home, with not only preserving Penelope's sanity but ensuring her issues of Lady Whistledown were delivered to the printers.
If Anthony was serious, she may not need Rey to take that risk any longer.
What a relief that would be.
As they both sat down, they looked at each other, both looking at the other for some hint or sign.
She would wait for him to lead the conversation. She was completely out of her element here with a suitor.
"How are you? After last night? I know you were worried about everything, but I hope it was manageable. I promise I didn't make any more references to your heartbreaking rejection of me the first time." His voice was jovial, and he placed his hand over his heart with a level of flair Benedict would have appreciated. Well, this is who Benedict would have learned such flirtations from, isn't it?
Penelope felt her mind ease.
"Everything was alright. My mother had started to understand that your family is fond of me when I received the dress from Daphne. So your attention last night seemed an extension of that. And luckily no one who overheard your exaggeration about my rejecting you mentioned anything that would alert her further." She gave him a pointed look at this last bit, and he should have been chastised, but he simply gave her his most charming smile.
"And this morning I simply stayed out of sight until just before calling hours, in the hopes of avoiding any further discussion about our dance or how my acquaintance with the Bridgertons could help Prudence and I in finding husbands." Penelope sighed, clearly fed up with her mother's scheming.
"And now I've arrived to call on you and this will certainly fuel more of those discussions." At this Anthony actually looked abashed. "If I could, I would save you from it. Although, as I am here to ask her for permission to court you, the conversations will be less about how our acquaintance can help you find a husband, and more that you have found one."
"Anthony." She gave him another pointed look. How could he speak of being her husband so lightly.
"Say it again. Please." She felt her cheeks burning. "I schemed to bring us out here for privacy just so I could hear you call me by my name," he continued, oblivious to the heat rising in Penelope's countenance. "Well, not just for that, but I promise it was a largely motivating factor."
She giggled, she couldn't help it. "God it really is in your blood isn't it? How Bridgerton men are just so charming."
"Possibly, but I can't say I want us thinking about how charming my brothers are at this moment."
"Oh? And what would you like us to think about at this moment, Anthony?" She paused before adding his name, wanting to savor it on her lips again.
"I would like to think about our courtship, Penelope. I mean to leave here only after receiving permission from your mother to court you. However, I can see that you have been concerned for a number of reasons, some of which I can't say I fully understand. I want to know why you are so against this. I want to put your mind at ease before I speak to your mother. Please, Penelope. Help me understand."
He thought she was against this? How could he think that? She could only dream of becoming his wife, because she knew in no world would the Viscount possibly settle for the frumpy wallflower. Entertaining the possibility just felt like a cruel tragedy, waiting to happen. One she had to avoid. Her heart couldn't take the disappointment if she let herself imagine. She would never recover.
But he was looking to her for an answer. He wanted to understand. She took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. It would not be easy to explain. It would be mortifying to give words to just how undesirable the ton had assessed her. But she could not live with herself if he continued to believe that she was opposed to him, or thought him lacking in some way.
"There are many things I am worried about, least of which is what members of the ton will think when they see us together. You are aware they have not been kind to me." She looked to him for confirmation.
"I am aware, although I can't say I understand where that all began. But I want to understand all of your worries Penelope. The largest and the smallest."
He didn't understand why the ton thought her undesirable?
Despite all of her hardships in this life, Penelope would never forget how lucky she was to have found the Bridgertons. They had never viewed her as less than, and it seemed some of them could not even imagine why anyone would think so.
She tried not to be overwhelmed by the love she felt for them, and continued to explain to Anthony her concerns.
"First, you should know that I do not have a dowry. I am certain of it. Please do not say that it does not matter because it does. There are many accomplished young ladies in the ton, all who would make wonderful wives to very lucky men, but their dowries are often their limiting factor."
Of course, the lack of dowry might not be a concern for the Bridgerton family, but they were an exception. Lady Bridgerton hoped that all of her children married for love. It was incredibly romantic. But the ton might not understand those feelings. Even with the sizable Bridgerton estates, it was not likely that Anthony needed his wife's dowry to help the estate thrive. But most men would consider the size of a dowry when choosing who to marry. And with her father's sizable debts, most of the ton would figure she had a measly dowry. It would be one more reason why they did not understand what led Anthony to choose her.
"My mother is not thinking of this now, but if we were to continue this courtship and were to marry, she would need to confess that I do not have a dowry. I worry to think what scheme she might attempt in order to avoid having to admit it. So, I would ask you to assure her at the time that you do not require any dowry. Then, I shall provide my dowry myself." She looked him in the eyes when she said this last part.
"Penelope, that is very admirable for you to offer and you are an angel to think so far in order to protect your mother from further embarrassment, but I assure you that I do not need or want a dowry from you. I would much rather you actually enjoy your pin money."
Did he think she was offering him her pin money?
Did he think she received much pin money given the state of her father's debts?
She straightened. She needed him to understand that she was serious. And she needed to explain how it was that she would pay her own dowry.
And then she needed to watch him change his mind about courting her.
"Anthony," she paused to ensure she had his attention. He also straightened and his eyes grew wide as if he was anticipating something dreadful.
Well, I guess this was something dreadful.
"Anthony," she started again. "I will provide my dowry. It may not be much, compared to what you can provide for your sisters, but it's a matter of pride, and I have already decided that I would do this. I only ask that you assure my mother a dowry is not needed. At the time of our marriage, I will provide ten thousand pounds within the week."
Anthony's jaw dropped.
"Wha- How-" he couldn't seem to form the words. "Penelope, how in the world do you have ten thousand pounds. That is not an unsubstantial dowry. But more importantly, how is it that your mother is unaware of these funds?"
She could understand his shock. Women of her station did not have funds other than the pin money they received or their dowries, typically provided by their fathers.
She looked away and took another deep breath.
This was it.
This would change everything.
"Anthony, the funds are my earnings." Penelope said softly.
She paused before saying her next words. Certain they would unleash an anger she had never seen before from Anthony.
"I am Lady Whistledown."
She held her breath.
He whipped up to look at her. "I beg your pardon."
Her shoulders caved inward and she sunk back. Surely this small bit of distance between them would not protect her from his coming rage, but she could not help the movement.
But she had to tell him. This was how she had survived. This was how she had protected herself.
And quite frankly, this was her life's biggest accomplishment.
She straightened again in her seat and repeated her dearly held secret. "I am Lady Whistledown."
And then she held her breath. Waiting. He didn't seem to move so she thought to elaborate while she had the chance.
"The money I will provide as my dowry, it is my earnings as Lady Whistledown. I have been saving it for years, and had originally hoped to earn enough to live comfortably as a spinster. But if you are certain that you wish to court me, and that we will likely marry, then I would rather use that money as a proper dowry."
Surely he would understand that, while unconventional, she was in a precarious position, what with her father's management of the Featherington estate.
"But if this changes everything and you no longer wish to court me, I only ask that you please keep this secret between us. I do not believe your family will take kindly to this news and I couldn't bear to lose them"
This was what she feared most.
If Anthony changed his mind about courting her, it would be no great loss. She considered herself lucky he had even danced with her.
But if she were to lose her connection with the Bridgertons the one place she felt safe, and loved, and cherished, she could not bear it.
Anthony began to laugh.
Penelope was terrified. She had no idea what this meant, but she was certain the anger was coming.
But after a pause, Anthony laughed again.
"Penelope, oh my god Penelope! I should have known. How could I not have guessed it? You are so clever. And so witty. I've watched you manage all of my siblings and their chaos, of course you would have figured out all the subtle and secret dynamics within the ton. It must have been so easy for you to see through anyone's façade."
She must have looked like a strawberry, her face felt like flames.
She could not believe the compliments she was hearing, and her body, so tightly braced for the anger she was certain would come, did not know what to do with this response.
"Oh god. I told you the Bridgerton name, and opinion, carry a significant weight. I said that to the Lady Whistledown. No one's opinion is more sought after than yours." He laughed at the irony.
She knew her words had influence within the ton, but she had never imagined her words were somehow more influential that a Viscount's. She also didn't think a Viscount would care for most of the happenings she wrote about in Lady Whistledown.
"Wait a moment." His words made her heart race.
This was it.
He remembered all the things she had said about his family. The initial shock must have worn off and now he was remembering all the reasons he should hate her.
"Why is Lady Whistledown so cruel to you then? This whole time, you could have changed the ton's opinion of you but you continued to side against yourself. Why?"
For a moment she didn't know what to say to that. His next thought had been for her? Not for his siblings who had been mentioned in various issues, but her.
Penelope sighed, a bit relaxed now that it was clear his reaction wouldn't be one of anger.
"I couldn't show favoritism to any one person too much, to avoid any suspicion or being found out. There have been times where I have had to comment on well known items in the ton. If the entire ton views Penelope Featherington a certain way, it would be suspicious for Lady Whistledown to have a completely different opinion. Similar to how I must comment on any public scandal. I can't seem to be out of touch with the rest of society."
It was not an easy balance to strike. Sometimes she found herself writing on notable happenings or scandals simply because she could not let the ton think that she didn't know what was happening. At least with the lesser known scandals she could choose if, when, or how to mention them.
But more and more often, Penelope felt as if she was adding firewood to what was already a sweltering room, and watching the flames burn higher.
"You are incredible." She couldn't believe his praise. Honestly, she felt she hadn't stopped blushing in his presence.
"Thank you. I needed you to know before we moved further. If you change your mind about this courtship I will understand, just please, I beg you not to tell your family."
"Penelope, I have not changed my mind. I am beyond impressed. You will have to tell me just how you managed all this one day. But first, your secret will remain between us. I would never put you in such danger. I don't believe any of my siblings could keep such a secret."
She was relieved. She couldn't quite believe that he still wanted to court her, but that he would not share her secret felt as if a burden had been lifted.
"Penelope, when you wrote about your cousin, Miss Thompson, you risked your siblings' position in society for mine. You all could have been caught in the backlash with the young lady. And yet you published it. Why?"
It was one of the most difficult decisions she had made. Still she wished she did not have to choose.
Aside from Eloise, Marina had been someone she liked. Someone she thought she could be friends with.
But if she could share her identity as Lady Whistledown with Anthony, she could share this. He would understand. Or at least try to.
"I couldn't let Colin be misled. I tried to tell him, and I begged Marina to be honest with Colin and tell him the truth. But she refused, and Colin… he wouldn't listen. He was so certain they were in love. And he may have been in love, but I knew Marina was lying to him. I couldn't let him be tricked."
Her stomach twisted at the thought. She tried not to think of it often. Especially since Marina was all right. She married the brother of the man she loved. Someone who could give her and her children a home, and even love her children. They were his beloved's brother's children. Surely he would care for them as his brother would have wanted.
But she still hated her role in it all. She hated that there was ever a moment where Marina felt she had lost her only chance. All because of Penelope's words in Lady Whistledown.
Anthony's words brought her back to their conversation in the garden.
"Penelope, was it simply to protect Colin from being tricked?"
This she could certainly answer. She was no longer pining for Mr. Colin Bridgerton. And she never would again.
"If you are asking whether I had feelings for your brother, the answer is yes." Anthony's face fell, but she would be fully honest with him. She had so far, and he had accepted every one of her explanations. She would not underestimate his understanding now.
"I am certain that it played no part in my decision, but I also understand how no one would truly believe that. All I can assure you is that whatever feelings I had for your brother were simply the infatuation of some young lady who was grateful for the attention, albeit however miniscule, from a young man. But I have learned my lesson, and those feelings are long gone."
"Penelope, did," he paused, sounding unsure. "Did something happen, with Colin? Did he do something to hurt you?"
Penelope looked down, feeling the tears ready to spill over in her eyes. Despite how much she felt certain she was no longer in love with the idea of Colin Bridgerton, she still felt the pang of hurt from her utter humiliation last season. She felt a sob in her throat, and she swallowed it down.
For all that Anthony had been wonderful in listening to her, she did not want him to believe she was still affected by or attached to Colin.
No. That was her past, and she had no desire to return to it.
"You wanted to know how or why the men of the ton were so thoroughly persuaded against pursuing me. Well, it seems I was not the only one with some silly notion that the friendship between Colin and I could be more. Some of the young men asked Colin last season at Mama's ball if he was courting me. Colin asked them if they were mad. He told them he 'would never dream of courting Penelope Featherington.'"
She saw his face morph into a scowl.
"It's as you said, the Bridgerton name, and opinion, carry a significant weight in our society. Colin could have said we were simply friends. He could have told them that I was like a sister to him, just like Eloise. He could have told them I was just a very good family friend. But instead, the man I fawned over, the man I thought of as a good friend, the man I accepted would never love me back the way I fancied I loved him, mocked me in my own home. He ridiculed me in front of his friend, all eligible men within the ton, and ensured that whatever chances I may have had at finding a husband were well and truly destroyed."
If Colin had simply not returned her feelings she would have tolerated it. She would have continued to enjoy their moments of friendship and hold them dearly in her heart.
But Colin had insulted her in her own home. And he hadn't simply set fire to any hope she might have had. He destroyed all of her mother's efforts to find husbands for her daughters.
Portia might be desperate for her daughters to marry, but what mother does not want to see her daughters settled? And with her father's looming debts, the pressure to do so was greater than any of the other mamas could imagine.
But Colin had destroyed any chance of Portia Featherington seeing her daughters settled. He had done it in her home, at a ball she invited his family to.
Penelope could never tolerate the pain he inflicted on her family.
"I learned in that moment that the Colin in my dreams I fancied I was in love with, was not the Colin I had befriended. And with the blindfold of whatever childish crush I harbored, lifted, I found that I no longer have any feelings for your brother."
Penelope looked at Anthony, hoping he could see she was certain in this feeling.
Yes, she had been pained through this ordeal, but she would move beyond it.
"Penelope, I cannot tell you how sorry I am that my idiot brother could be so careless with your reputation. I have been fuming at Benedict for weeks, and meanwhile Colin has done significant damage. How can I make amends for this?"
Of course he would consider it his responsibility to fix.
"Anthony, what's done is done. And it is not your actions that hurt me, therefore it isn't up to you to make amends. I shared all this not so that you would be tasked with cleaning Colin's mess. I shared this because I want you to believe that I am well and truly done with my infatuation with your brother. If we move forward with this courtship, you will be the only man I think of."
She didn't expect him to be a faithful husband. Men of the ton rarely were. And they didn't need to be. But she would be a faithful wife. No matter who she married, she intended to put her husband first in her heart. There was no room for Colin Bridgerton there.
"And I hope," she suddenly looked shy, "that I will be the only woman you think of."
She didn't know what possessed her to say this. Really it was more than she could hope for. This all was beyond her dreams already.
But this was Anthony Bridgerton. He would never lie to her, and if he did seek a mistress she was certain he would be discrete, at the least.
"How could I think of any other woman when I am mesmerized by this blush that appears on your lovely cheeks?"
Again her cheeks were aflame. These Bridgerton men certainly knew how to flatter a woman, and she didn't think she would ever learn to accept with such lovely compliments.
"Penelope, I do not mind your dowry, I do not mind that you are Lady Whistledown, but please promise me you will tell me more soon, and I am relieved that you do not have feelings for any of my other brothers. Please, will you allow me to ask your mother for permission to court you."
They would need to return soon. They had already spent an inappropriate amount of time here, and even with the maid as chaperone, Penelope was amazed they hadn't been interrupted by her mother and sister already. They must be watching from one of the windows, if possible.
"Oh Anthony, I would be honored to be courted by you."
She couldn't believe he still wanted her. She was so sure he would change his mind once he knew. But he did not seem truly disheartened by any of her secrets.
Anthony stood, and once again held out his hand.
Penelope rose and placed her hand in his, and he took it and placed it gently in the crook of his elbow.
"Let us return to the drawing room so that I may ask your mother for permission to officially court you."
She smiled up at him and nodded. He began to lead them back, and then paused.
"You have made me incredibly happy today Penelope. I hope to make you just as happy soon."
She blushed at his words, and they resumed their walk back to their home.
With how often he seemed to cause her to blush, she would certainly have to take this into consideration in her future wardrobe choices.
When they entered the drawing room together, Penelope could see the curiosity on her mother's face. What could they possibly have been speaking of for so long?
"Lord Bridgerton, I hope the gardens were suitable." Someone else might think Portia was simply fishing for compliments, but Penelope knew the garden was one of the few joys in her mother's life. It was something she built herself. It was one of the few aspects of life where she could truly enjoy and take pride in the fruits of her labor.
"It is a lovely garden. It's been far too long since I've found myself in a garden with such a wonderful variety." Anthony could not know just how much his words would mean to her mother. She couldn't help but smile at the kindness he was showing her.
"Oh I'm so glad to hear. You are most welcome to come enjoy the gardens whenever you wish." Her mother was beginning to sound a bit too eager. Goodness what was she going to say when Anthony asked for permission to court her.
"Thank you Lady Featherington. I fully intend to make the most of the invitation. Especially since I hope to frequent your home in the coming weeks." Anthony had her mother on the edge of her seat.
"If you would allow me the honor of courting your daughter, Miss Penelope Featherington, I imagine we might spend some time together in the garden as we continue to get to know one another." Goodness could he have used a more charming smile to request her mother's permission?
Even if he were not a viscount, how could anyone ever say no to such a charming smile?
Portia, for all of her dreaming and scheming, could not have imagined this outcome.
"Of course! I am delighted to hear of your interest in courting Penelope." Portia may have been in shock but she wasn't going to let her shock allow the viscount to reconsider. "Your family has always been so kind to our dear Penelope, and it would bring me such joy to know she may find her future home with such a wonderful family."
Her mother seemed to be racing to marriage as if it were certain, and Penelope couldn't help but feel embarrassed that she might sound desperate.
What would even be the point of hiding? Anthony seemed aware of her family's situation.
"Of course, Lady Featherington. We have all felt fortunate to have Miss Featherington as a part of our family for so many years. And I am regretful that I did not think of it sooner. However, I think it could be worthwhile if we were to get to know one another in a new way. A relationship that may lead to a more formal tie between our families. I do not wish to force Miss Featherington to rush into any sort of decision simply because we have known each other for years. If you will allow it, I would like to properly court Miss Featherington, prior to any decision being made."
His words were just right to stop her mother from jumping to any conclusions. But he made it sound as if it were up to her to accept this marriage proposal. He had to know she would be a fool to say no. There was no need for him to win her over.
"Lord Bridgerton, that is so thoughtful of you, but I'm sure Penelope would be able to suit whatever it is you are looking for in a wife." Of course her mother would make her sound desperate. Could she not just leave the kindness shown by Anthony be?
"I have no doubt in my mind that Miss Featherington would be an incredible wife. However, a young lady has dreams, I'm sure. I am determined to court her properly before any decision is made, as a proper suitor should." Anthony turned a bit serious for a moment, "Besides, we would not want the ton to assume any future arrangement is simply because of a scandal of some sort."
He was warning her mother. She would think twice before planning any tricks that might trap Anthony into marrying Penelope.
Penelope could see the color slowly drain from her mother's face as Anthony's words registered.
"Of course, Lord Bridgerton. We would never want anyone to feel comfortable suggesting anything untoward has occurred. I simply meant to assure you that I'm certain Penelope will be a suitable wife." Her mother was doing her best to put Anthony at ease. "Of course you may take your time getting to know one another. Our home, and garden, are always open to you."
"Thank you Lady Featherington. In regards to our courtship, I would like to invite your family to join our family in the park tomorrow. We will arrange for a picnic for all, and like today, one of the maids can chaperone while Miss Featherington and I promenade."
Penelope looked up at Anthony again. He wanted to promenade with her?
Having him call on her here in her home was one thing. But in the park?
"This way members of the ton will be aware of our official courtship." Anthony continued to explain, and this time Penelope had to hide her shock.
Perhaps it was the lingering feeling from Colin's words. Perhaps it was because at times, even she disparaged her association with her family. But Anthony's desire to announce their courtship to all flooded her body with a warmth she had not felt in a long time.
"We would very much enjoy a picnic with you and your family, Lord Bridgerton. You honor us with your invitation." Portia, despite her increasing shock, had the decency to respond appropriately.
Penelope simply watched Anthony. She had always known Anthony Bridgerton was a good man, but for the first time in her life she found herself to be one of his priorities.
It was a heady feeling.
"Wonderful. I shall send word with further details relating to time. But for now, I must take my leave." Anthony smiled down at Penelope. "However begrudgingly."
Penelope blushed at his words. Goodness she would look like a tomato for the rest of her life if this continued.
Anthony turned back to her mother to say his farewells. "Good day Lady Featherington." He turned to Prudence, "Miss Featherington." Giving them each a small bow.
Lastly, he turned to Penelope. "I look forward to our promenade tomorrow, Miss Featherington.
And with that, he gave her a small bow, kissed her hand, and turned to exit the drawing room.
Penelope wondered if this wasn't the most delightful dream she had ever had.
The moment Anthony left the drawing room, Penelope imagined his footsteps along the corridor and down the steps to the foyer. She imagined the footman opening the door for Anthony to leave and bowing as was due. And then she imagined the door closing firmly behind Anthony.
Her mother must have done the same in order to ensure Anthony was completely out of earshot, because at the exact moment, her mother dropped onto the chaise lounge and brought her hands to her temples.
"I cannot believe it." Portia Featherington might also be considering if this was not her wildest dream.
Penelope stayed silent, though she and Prudence glanced at one another. Both waiting to see what their mother would do next.
Portia stared at the tea service on the table for a moment before she swung her arms out and let out a rather loud "Thank the heavens above!"
Portia turned to Penelope with a look Penelope wasn't quite sure was relieved or menacing. She hoped it was joy.
"My dear girl! Penelope you have saved us! I'm not sure how you did it, but all those visits to the Bridgerton household have brought us a gift I never could have dreamed of."
Penelope didn't like where this was going. She hadn't attended afternoon tea at Bridgerton house in the hopes of marrying one of the Bridgerton men. She had simply loved Eloise, her best friend. They had simply wanted to spend all of their time together.
Even when she was infatuated with Colin, she never went with the intention of something growing between them.
"Mother, we should not be so hasty. What if we do not suit?" She needed her mother to be reasonable.
"Nonsense." It was too late. Portia had certainly thrown caution to the wind. "Even if you do not suit and he does not propose, a courtship with the Viscount will do wonders for Prudence's prospects. And even if you do not suit one another, I'm sure the Viscount would never disparage you. You may not be suited to one another, but his interest alone could make other gentlemen consider you."
Of course. The idea that a Viscount would be interested in any of her daughters was already an accomplishment none of the other mamas of the ton would have anticipated for Portia Featherington. Even if Anthony did not marry Penelope, she could not wait to see their faces tomorrow when the Viscount decided to promenade with her daughter.
Penelope may have thought her mother unreasonable and scheming, but life had been difficult for Portia Featherington. Fate had sent her one mess after another to survive, and perhaps, for that reason, any small mercy felt a miracle.
She would savor this victory until the end of her days.
A viscount. Courting her daughter.
Penelope wasn't sure she could handle an evening listening to her mother discuss today's visit. She had to get away. And she had the perfect excuse.
"Mother, I must go to the modiste."
"Of course, Penelope. We will need to order a few more dresses, something striking, something to command the attention of the entire ballroom. Now that you will be courted by Viscount Bridgerton." Portia did love the modiste, and now that she could justify new dresses for one of her daughters, she would certainly indulge in the experience in a way she had not been able to since long before her husband's passing.
Penelope could not let it be. She finally had leverage to pick her own dresses, and she would use it. Even if it did disappoint her mother.
"No, mother. I'm afraid that won't do." Portia looked aghast that her daughter would contradict her, but Penelope had to carry through. She was going to be a Viscountess, after all.
"The new dresses will be similar to the style of the Bridgerton family. Dresses like the one her Grace has gifted me. Surely you understand that I must dress according to the Viscount's tastes. If I want him to continue to view me as the perfect wife for him, I must present myself in a style he finds pleasing." Her mother couldn't possibly argue with this logic.
"And it was the evening that I wore the dress gifted by her Grace that Lord Bridgerton first asked for a dance. Presenting myself in similar fashions will surely encourage his continued interest." She added this last bit as proof that she knew best, and her mother could not possibly fight her on this.
"I must admit, men are rather visual beings. And if he prefers such somber colors, then we shall be sure you wear only the colors he finds pleasing." Penelope was relieved that her mother relented so quickly. But she could see the concern etched across her features. She might agree with Penelope that she needed new dresses, but she had no idea how she would pay for them.
"I will speak to the modiste about the necessity for the new dresses, and arrange some form of payment before the end of the season. Surely Madame Delacroix will understand that the Viscount's future bride will need an exquisite wedding dress, one that would surely bring her many more customers." Penelope did not intend to use this reasoning, she would simply pay from her Lady Whistledown earnings. But she needed an explanation that would put her mother at ease, without speaking of the earnings she had saved.
Portia looked relieved. "Excellent thinking Penelope. Of course Madame Delacroix would benefit from creating the future Viscountess' wedding gown. She could certainly provide some leniency given all of the future business you will bring her."
Penelope tried not to show her relief, but she really could not allow her mother to make decisions for her wardrobe any longer. There would be plenty of gossip and speculation. God forbid the citrus creations in her current wardrobe further encouraged the disparaging comments from other mamas and debutantes.
Tomorrow would certainly cause a stir across the ton, and at the moment, new dresses seemed to be the only things Penelope could arm herself with.
Chapter 2: Genevieve
Penelope made her way to the modiste shortly after the end of calling hours.
She probably could have left immediately after Anthony's departure, but she was not dressed for an outing and the time Rey spent dressing her gave her time to consider everything that had happened that morning.
Anthony had been serious. A part of her had known that he would never joke, but he had truly considered everything before approaching her.
He didn't mind that she was Lady Whistledown.
She had let out such a deep exhale when she remembered his decision that Rey asked if she was alright. It was as if the heavy weight in the pit of her stomach, that had grown into a boulder over time, had finally cracked. A tightly wound tension released.
This time the day before, Penelope was resigned to living her life as a spinster and focused on saving as much of her Lady Whistledown earnings as possible.
Today she had an opportunity to find true security in her life. Security like she had not known since her days as a child. Before her debut. Before her father's debts grew to gossiping heights.
She couldn't lose this chance.
If she was determined to cross that finish line and marry Anthony Bridgerton, Penelope would have to focus on two things.
First, she needed to quiet or at least minimize any speculation from the ton. She had never strived to be seen as a diamond, but she had also allowed the less kind and even crueler comments made in her direction to flourish. While this may have worked to her advantage to deter anyone from connecting her to Lady Whistledown, these comments would not help the ton view her marriage to the Viscount as real.
Penelope was about to be thrust into the spotlight, and she needed to shatter whatever unfavorable opinions people may have of her. They needed to see the Penelope that the Bridgertons so clearly loved and adored.
To accomplish this, Penelope needed to keep in mind her second focus, keeping her mother from ruining everything.
Portia Featherington meant well, and she surely wanted her daughters to succeed in obtaining favorable marriages. But her intentions and her efforts did not necessarily lead to the results she wanted.
Penelope would have to put her foot down. And while she may hurt her mother's feelings on the way, Portia would come around. The end result would be all that truly mattered.
Nevertheless, telling one's mother, "no" for the first time is no easy feat.
With her mother in check, Penelope's next task was to make haste to the modiste and ensure that Penelope had suitable gowns and day dresses for the coming weeks as she would be the subject of much speculation. She needed to look like a future Viscountess.
She would use her Lady Whistledown savings for this, and she had already ensured some excuse for her mother to put off questioning the expense, and just as important, she had deterred her mother from joining her to the modiste.
Penelope would never tell her mother outright that she had put her at a disadvantage with such gaudy colors, but if Lady Whistledown's commentary could not convince Portia Featherington to reconsider her fashion choices, Penelope would never be able to.
She just had to use the excuse of The Viscount's personal preference and thank god it worked.
So deep in her thoughts, Penelope barely realized when Rey had finished dressing her and they were in the carriage on their way to Madame Delacroix.
She would need to speak with Eloise.
Oh God! What would Eloise think?
Those concerns would have to wait until after the modiste.
As the carriage came to a halt, Penelope braced herself for who she may run into.
She prayed there would be no Cressida Cowper to derail her visit.
As she stepped out of the carriage with help from the footman, she breathed a sigh of relief. The shops seemed fairly quiet as calling hours would have ended not long ago.
In what she hoped was a relaxed stride, she moved to the door and entered the shop.
The small bell over the door tinkled to notify the owner of a new customer. A delicate "I'll be right with you Madame," in a sophisticated French accent floated in from the backroom.
The door shut behind Rey, and Penelope began to look around the shop. She realized this may be the first time since before her debut that she could browse the fabrics in the shop and not leave longing for what her heart truly wanted. Her mother was not here to dictate what dresses would be made, and she would not have to argue with her mother when she did wear any of these new dresses. After all, they were to appeal to the Viscount.
Madame Delacroix entered the front of the shop on hurried footsteps to greet her early customer. "I am so sorry for keeping you waiting," she quickly looked up and registered who the customer was. "Ah! Miss Penelope! Please, follow me, I have been hoping you would visit soon. I am dying to know how you liked your gift."
She led Penelope into the back room where they would have some more privacy, while Rey waited in the front of the shop.
Once in the more private space, with the door shut behind them, Genevieve dropped the French accent, and both women lifted their masks.
"Genevieve, you know it was the most beautiful dress I've ever worn. Thank you so much. I'll never know how you created it to fit like a glove but I've never worn anything so flattering in my life."
"Well, I have always had your true measurements on hand. I cannot tell you how often I thought to make a 'mistake', and send one of your dresses with a more flattering figure. But I knew your mother would eat me alive. She would never stand for it. But it seems all of that hoping and wishing brought the sweetest opportunity to my doorstep. I could not resist when the Duchess was here to commission a dress for you. I assured her, I had the measurements I needed to create a more flattering silhouette."
Penelope reached forward to squeeze her hand. She had no idea what she would do without Genevieve.
Truly, if it weren't for her help, there were many Lady Whistledown editions that would not have been delivered. And while Genevieve could not continue to help, especially in times where interest in the identity of Lady Whistledown would reach its natural peak throughout each season, the two women remained friends.
There was a solidarity in finding another woman who was performing for society so that she may find security and independence in one of the few ways available to her. And the comfort Penelope found in having just one person she could truly share her business endeavors with through the last two seasons as Lady Whistledown grew to new heights was priceless.
"But tell me why you are here so soon." Genevieve pulled Penelope out of her fond reminiscing, back to the heart of the matter.
"It seems that I finally have a suitor. And with your dress very much to thank for it, I convinced Mama that I must commission more dresses and gowns in a similar style in order to maintain this suitors interest immediately." Penelope quickly explained.
Genevieve was practically bursting with excitement.
She grabbed Penelope's other hand and gave them both a squeeze and she squealed with glee.
"Oh Penelope, I cannot wait for the day Lady Featherington arrives with her remaining single daughter and I get to remind her it was MY creations that helped her youngest settle, and perhaps we should rely on my expertise." Genevieve looked so smug, Penelope couldn't help but giggle with her.
"But I will wait patiently for that day." She stepped away from Penelope, heading for some sample dresses, already stepping into action. "First, you must tell me who this suitor is. I must know the identity of the lucky man we are reeling in."
Penelope paused, nervous about how her friend would react.
"Viscount Anthony Bridgerton."
Genevieve froze, turned back to Penelope in surprise and stared at her for just a moment.
Penelope watched a sly grin spread across Genevieve's face. She looked downright gleeful.
"Finally! A gentleman in that family has recognized what has been right in front of him all these seasons!" Genevieve's glee was contagious and Penelope laughed. She was so glad she had come to see her confidant first.
"I must admit I thought it would be that younger Bridgerton, but I can't say I'm not incredibly happy with this outcome. The Viscount is rather serious, but he will always take care of you, and we both know you deserve to be taken care of." Genevieve continued, absolutely joyous for her friend and Penelope's heart swelled. If Genevieve could believe Penelope deserved wonderful things, and the Bridgertons believed Penelope deserved wonderful things, then certainly she could convince the ton not to question her marriage to the Viscount.
"I must admit, I thought it was simply pity when he asked me to dance, but he arrived this morning at the beginning of calling hours and he left after asking Mama for permission to court me." Penelope knew she could share her initial doubts with her friend. Genevieve would not tell her she was wrong for questioning her worth. She knew that the world could be a cruel and unfair place. She understood how quickly opinions could be ruined in society, over the most inconsequential things.
"Your mother must have fainted." Genevieve joked. This was exactly what Penelope needed. Someone to laugh at the absurdity with which the last twenty four hours of her life had changed.
"She hid her disbelief rather quickly, I must say. Although, I could tell she soon began thinking of ways to trap Lord Bridgerton before he changed his mind." Genevieve gave her a look, and Penelope wasn't quite sure if it was at her mother's less than kind attempts for the sake of her daughters' marriages, or that she didn't believe Anthony would change his mind. "Lord Bridgerton must have noticed as well. He made a very pointed comment that he doesn't want to risk anything that could ruin my reputation happening. He is very adamant that he properly courts me before proposing marriage."
Genevieve practically squealed. "Oh the look on those mamas' and debutantes' faces when they see you with him again and again! They will not know what to do with themselves. They'll be in a panic trying to remember any slight they ever aimed at the future Viscountess."
Penelope couldn't help but giggle. "There is something rather satisfying in thinking of how many of them will have to bite their tongues when they see me next. I imagine Cressida's shock will be even better than anything I could dream of."
The two women reveled in the change in Penelope's fortune. Although, it wasn't set in stone just yet.
"But Genevieve, you know how people are, and you know how they speak of me. They will whisper that they do not understand what the Viscount could possibly see in me. They'll suggest I must have trapped him or used some trick."
"Well then I believe it's time you let your peers see what you have for so long only allowed the Bridgertons to see. You are clever Penelope, I do not need to tell you this, and that you are here tells me you already have a plan in mind." Genevieve smirked, knowingly.
"Well, yes. I was able to convince Mama that I must have more dresses in the style which Her Grace gifted me. She could not argue that I should dress in line with the tastes of my suitor, if I am to keep him interested."
Genevieve seemed to look to the heavens in order to thank God for this opportunity. It would seem Portia Featherington's tastes had been a burden the modiste was suffocating under for multiple seasons now.
Penelope smiled at her dramatics and continued. "I know our account is still unpaid but I will use my Whistledown earnings in order to pay for these dresses. As far as my mother understands I am here to bargain a deal in which you provide the dresses and I provide payment once the marriage proposal is secured. This way she need not question how we are paying for these dresses and you will not need to reject any requests for new dresses for Prudence as well."
Genevieve nodded in agreement.
"I will have to find the least offensive dress in my wardrobe for our first promenade tomorrow, and pray it is suitable enough. But at least for any following balls or promenades I might have something more elegant." Penelope was already dreading the talk that would begin when she wore one of her Featherington style dresses tomorrow. But there was no way she could avoid it, no matter how much they would reinforce the very opinions she wanted to change.
"Oh that will not be a problem. You will look lovely during your first promenade." Genevieve reassured her.
"You are truly the kindest Genevieve, but we both know that the number of dresses I have that are flattering are few and far between. And my day dresses suitable for a promenade in the park certainly are not anything special." Penelope tried not to sound defeated, but she knew the state of her wardrobe, and she simply had to brace herself for what tomorrow would bring.
"Well, then it is a good thing I already have a dress for you to wear tomorrow." Genevieve's smile was bordering on smug.
"What?" Penelope could not have heard her correctly. Genevieve couldn't possibly make a dress for her overnight.
"I already have a dress for you. A few, actually. When Her Grace requested that I make you a dress as a gift from her, I hoped that your mother would finally see reason and add a few more to your wardrobe. So I prepared a few. I believe I have one or two day dresses, and I have begun working on a more formal gown, but if you have time we can try the day dresses today and I can make any needed adjustments quickly."
Genevieve could not finish her train of thought, as Penelope leapt to embrace the woman.
"I am lucky beyond belief to have found a friend in you Genevieve." Penelope's voice was shaky as she held back tears, but she could not bring herself to let go of Genevieve just yet.
"You are beautiful Penelope. No matter what you will wear tomorrow. These dresses are simply to help those who cannot see it themselves." Genevieve held on to Penelope as she reassured her.
"Now," Genevieve broke away from the hug, ready to bring the conversation back to more cheerful thoughts. "Let us try these day dresses quickly so I can begin any adjustments. They are simple, but the colors will better suit you and the silhouette will be much more flattering. And with that done, you can focus on how Lady Whistledown will guide the ton through this change in opinion of one Miss Penelope Featherington."
Penelope smiled up at her friend and nodded in agreement.
Penelope awoke the next day much more refreshed than she had prior to Anthony's visit.
With the new dress from Genevieve waiting for her in her wardrobe, Penelope could rest easier knowing she would not look like some citrus fruit today, when the entire ton became aware of Anthony courting her.
Her mother was skeptical when Penelope arrived with the new dress, knowing one couldn't possibly have been completed so quickly. But Penelope had assured her mother that the modiste had begun preparing it once she had completed the dress gifted by Daphne. She was certain that with how beautiful and flattering that dress would be, that the Featherington's would want more in a similar style.
Portia didn't look too pleased at Genevieve assuming, but in this moment she held her tongue, more likely than not relieved that Penelope had a dress in the style the Bridgertons preferred for her big moment in the park tomorrow. She seemed to let it go all together when Penelope pointed out that she was not charged more for a rushed delivery, given that Genevieve had already thought ahead.
"She must have gleaned something from the way Her Grace insisted that the dress she was gifting me be in Bridgerton blue." Penelope needed Portia to realize Genevieve was an ally in all of this. Portia could be a bothersome customer, even with the outstanding payments due to the modiste. Penelope would lay it on thick if she could save her friend from dealing with her mother any more than necessary.
With that explanation resolved, the new dress waiting for Penelope in her wardrobe, and news from the Bridgerton footman informing the Featheringtons when they should arrive at the park for the picnic, Penelope had nothing else to do to prepare the evening before.
Aside from worrying over how it would all go. Who would see them? What would they think? Would Anthony like her new dress? How would Portia and Prudence embarrass her?
The last was not a kind thought towards her mother and sister. They certainly wouldn't embarrass her knowingly. Although Prudence had been known to send a cruel barb her way often enough. Perhaps even more so since Phillipa wed Mr. Finch and moved to her new home. But she certainly wouldn't do so in front of the Bridgerton's.
No, for all that Penelope had been the butt of jokes among her sisters, they had never been cruel to her in the presence of others. They would not allow Penelope to be ridiculed by someone else.
Despite these racing thoughts, Penelope prepared to retire. She would read in order to distract herself from her worries, and with any luck, she would tire her mind to the point she would be able to fall asleep quickly.
Lord knew she would need to look and feel her best if she were to get through this picnic tomorrow. With both of their families present, and all of the ton watching, it wouldn't do to be tired and irritable.
She had just sat down in her room with a book when the door flew open, and Prudence entered.
"How did you do it?" Prudence demanded.
"Good evening Prudence. How did I do what?" Penelope wasn't sure where this was going but she had a feeling it wasn't anything that would lead to a good evening.
"How did you trap the Viscount? Did you corner him while you were at their home, seeing Eloise?" Prudence added this last part with incredible suspicion. As if Penelope had been lying this entire time about spending time with Eloise.
"I did not trap him, Prudence. I'm just as surprised by his attention as you and mother. It's all rather new. I haven't even spoken to Eloise since Lord Bridgerton has asked to court me. I have no idea whether she knows of her brother's intentions or if she will be angry with me for it." Penelope's uncertainty seemed to pour out of her. With all of the worries racing through her mind, she couldn't quite bring herself to consider a possible falling out with Eloise.
"What does it matter if Eloise is happy with her brother's intentions or not." Prudence dismissed the idea so quickly, she couldn't possibly understand the way it weighed on Penelope.
"It matters to me." Penelope was firm, in a way she had never been with Prudence, and it showed when Prudence's eyes widened at Penelope's tone. "Eloise is my best friend, and has been since I was a child. Her opinion matters to me greatly, and I never want to do anything that would upset her." Penelope's tone left no room for argument, and yet Prudence did not seem to notice.
Prudence scoffed at this. "You would be a fool to give this up simply because 'Eloise,'" her tone was mocking as if it hurt her to even say her name, "did not like it. And she would be a fool not to understand how important this is for her friend."
Penelope didn't appreciate her best friend being called a fool. "Eloise is not a fool. She simply doesn't believe that marriage should be the only option a woman has."
Prudence rolled her eyes at this and went to lounge on the chaise by the window in Penelope's room. "But it is the only option a woman has. Regardless, are you going to tell me how you trapped the Viscount, or not?"
At this Penelope glared. "For the last time, I did not trap the Viscount, and I would appreciate it if you did not continue to imply it. I told you, I am just as surprised by this courtship as you and mother. I do not see the Viscount often when I am spending time with Eloise. If anything, I see her younger siblings far more often in the home than Lord Bridgerton. He is a Lord, with business to attend to. He does not lounge about the home, having tea with his sisters and their friends."
Prudence seemed to consider this, and her suspicion from before seemed to diminish.
"Well then it must have been his mother. If she likes you so much, and his sisters like you so much that your constant presence in their home is not a nuisance, then they must have suggested he marry you. It would be convenient for them to have someone so docile join their family. You would never cause any trouble or make any demands."
At this Penelope felt furious. She wasn't sure what exactly caused her anger to flare, maybe the dismissiveness of Penelope possibly being a good wife, the insinuation that she was somehow weak and a pushover, or the fact that she was very much tired of being pushed around by her own family. But she just could not let this comment go unaddressed.
"Is it truly so difficult to believe that someone could want to marry me? Do you really look at your sister and think it so unbelievable that another family might actually welcome my presence? Have I been such a burden to this family that the thought of my being wanted is unfathomable?" Penelope's heart raced, and she knew she needed to take calming breaths before her hurt completely overwhelmed her.
Prudence, for her part, looked taken aback. Her eyes widened as Penelope asked question after question. It was as if she was seeing Penelope for the first time.
"Well if you are going to be so irritable during a simple discussion, I'll just leave you to your books." And with that, Prudence rose from the chaise lounge and walked to the door to exit. Without another look back at Penelope, she hurried from the room, closing the door behind her.
Once again, Penelope was left with her worrying thoughts. Only this time, she tried not to ponder how much of her anger and hurt was from the reminder that her own sisters simply did not know her. And they had never cared to.
With renewed motivation to distract her mind and read until she fell into a deep sleep, Penelope turned back to her book. She could not bring this hurt and anger with her tomorrow.
The following morning, Penelope woke up refreshed. She had read rather late into the night, but that was not out of the ordinary, and being utterly tired when she finally gave in to sleep helped her avoid a restless night of tossing and turning.
She remembered the conversation with Prudence the night before and quickly put the memory aside.
She could not arrive at the picnic looking morose.
Rey arrived to help Penelope ready for the day, bringing tea and a light repast so that Penelope could break her fast. She had already arranged for a bath to be set up for Penelope. While Penelope nibbled at the toast and sipped her tea, she and Rey discussed how best to adorn her hair for the promenade.
As another maid arrived to notify them that the bath was ready, Penelope and Rey had just decided that a simple style with small but elegant adornment would be best. Nothing so heavily styled as she would pick for a ball, but something to suggest that Penelope was a natural beauty. Soft wavy curls, slightly drawn back away from her face to minimize any fidgeting.
"I shall ensure the dress is free of any wrinkles as you enjoy your bath, my lady." Rey had understood just how nervous Penelope was about today's picnic. Even if Penelope had held those thoughts close to her heart, Rey had been with her long enough to understand how important this was, and just how many things could go wrong today.
"Thank you Rey." With that, Penelope headed to the bath awaiting her.
She bathed with such intent, hoping to keep her mind present rather than worrying about what was coming. She could not decide what was most concerning; her family's behavior, Eloise's reaction, or the ton's.
Following her bath, she allowed Rey to help her dress before sitting before her vanity for Rey to dress her hair.
She would certainly be bringing Rey with her if she were to become Lady Bridgerton. Rey had a way of taming Penelope's fiery locks into smooth, soft curls that hung down her back. With her hair done, Rey applied a light amount of rouge to her lips. Penelope looked poised, her lips a little more prominent than their natural color. Nothing to suggest she was overtly seducing a man, but just enough to show she had put thought into being presentable for her suitor.
When she entered the foyer and found her mother and sister waiting for her, she paused before them, waiting for their criticism.
Portia Featherington seemed a bit stunned. Her eyes swept down her daughter's image from head to toe. She was a bit too quiet given her normal speed at finding flaws.
Penelope lifted her own eyes to see if she could surmise what her mother was thinking. She was surprised that her gaze was glistening. Almost as if she were about to cry.
"Well, that certainly isn't a color for some fresh debutante. But," Portia paused, as if she was seeing Penelope for the first time, "a serious man, like Lord Bridgerton, will certainly appreciate that you are not some silly little girl, but a sensible woman."
Penelope's heart boomed. If she did not know better, she might even think her mother was proud of her.
"Thank you mother," Penelope smiled up at Portia.
"Well yes, let's not waste our time here in the foyer. We mustn't be late." The emotion in the moment being too much for a practical woman like Portia meant it was best to move away from it all with haste. "To the carriage. Quickly."
Penelope smiled to herself as she followed her mother and sister out of their home.
When their carriage arrived at the park, the footman assisted Portia out of the carriage first. Followed by Prudence, who looked as if she would rather be anywhere else, and lastly, Penelope.
It was a bright day, but thankfully not too warm. The last thing Penelope needed was to have the ton comment on her perfuse sweating while on a promenade with the first suitor she had ever had.
They spotted where the Bridgertons had set up their tent and picnic and began to make their way over. Before they could get too close, Eloise must have noticed their approach.
"PEN!" Eloise was already moving out of the tent and making her way to the Featherington women, at a speed not very lady-like. Lady Bridgerton could be seen shaking her head in hopelessness.
"A bit eager isn't she?" Scoffed Prudence.
"Mind your tongue, Prudence. This could be your sister's future family. An influential family. Do not do or say anything that could give Lord Bridgerton offense." Portia quietly scolded her eldest as they continued toward the tent, before Eloise could meet them on the path.
Penelope appreciated the small defense of her friend. Even if it was less to defend Eloise and more to defend Penelope's chance at becoming a Bridgerton.
When Eloise met them on the path, she greeted Lady Featherington and Prudence before turning and looping her arm with Penelope's and continuing forward towards the tent.
"Penelope, I cannot believe that we may become sisters, not only in heart, but in society soon. We will never have to part!"
"You are not upset? I thought you may be angry with me, for being courted by your brother." Penelope held her breath, waiting for Eloise's confirmation.
"Oh Pen, I could not be upset with you for this. You have never done anything to pursue or trap any of my brothers. And you have had ample opportunity, what with us constantly visiting one another. No, this is entirely as a result of Anthony realizing how wonderful my best friend is and how important you are to our family. And I cannot even argue with him, for he is right."
Penelope thought she may cry.
"Thank you, Eloise. You have always been the most wonderful friend. And I cannot wait for us to be sisters officially."
"Yes, well, I will still be arguing with Anthony that you were mine first. You know I don't like sharing with my siblings and having my brother choose my best friend as his wife does feel a bit as if war is looming over us."
Penelope giggled at Eloise's dramatics.
"Just promise me Pen that I'll always be your favorite." At this, Eloise seemed to have set aside her antics and asked in earnest. To be one of eight siblings, and in the middle of said siblings, meant it was rather difficult to have something wholly of your own. And here Eloise was, willing to share that one thing, the one person, she felt was hers before anyone else's, for the sake of her best friend's future.
They had reached the tent, and before Penelope could assure Eloise, another Bridgerton sibling had made their way over to welcome them.
"Now Eloise, you may have been the first Bridgerton to befriend Penelope, but I think we all know I am her favorite." Benedict gave Penelope his most charming smile, before turning to her mother and sister to include them in his teasing of Eloise. "Good day Lady Featherington, and Miss Featherington." He bowed to each in turn. "You'll have to forgive Eloise. She's desperate to win all manner of competitions. I'm afraid it's a bit of never ending sibling rivalry."
Eloise scowled at him.
Before she could speak a word to Benedict, Anthony had arrived at the edge of the tent with Violet to welcome their guests.
The look he sent both his siblings did not go unnoticed and Penelope had to bite her lip to keep from smiling.
"Lady Featherington, I thank you for accepting our invitation to picnic together." Despite his hesitation, Anthony would never be anything less than a gentleman to a lady, especially to one who was his guest.
"Of course, Lord Bridgerton. We are honored to be invited and to get to know your lovely family better." Portia turned to Violet next, "and it is so good to see you Lady Bridgerton. I'm afraid we really do not get much opportunity to speak, despite being in attendance at many of the same balls."
"Yes, well it is not easy being a mother with daughters out in society is it." The women shared a small laugh at that. "And please, call me Violet. This is a family picnic. I insist we not be so formal."
Penelope saw the tension disappear on her mother's face just slightly, and her smile widened just a sliver, as she nodded at Violet shyly. Her strong, solid mother had been nervous. It dawned on Penelope that it wasn't simply the possibility of Penelope losing this match that she had feared. With all of the gossip surrounding her father's debts and her family's precarious financial situation, many of the ton's mamas would have snubbed Portia.
But not Violet. To have the Lady of one of the most influential families in the ton extend a hand of friendship, was beyond simple relief for Portia, it was a kindness she had not even dreamed to hope for.
"Then I insist that you call me Portia." Her mother beamed.
Perhaps this picnic would be alright. Perhaps they had all worried for nothing.
"Are you going to keep them outside the tent all day, or can we actually start this picnic?" Hyacinth, never one to mince words, brought them all out their slightly awkward greeting.
"As you can imagine, my youngest siblings are eager to have you join us," Anthony smiled down at Penelope, and held out his arm to escort her into the tent, to where the picnic was set up.
She rested her hand on the crook of his elbow and followed him in. She could hear Benedict offering to escort their mothers behind them, and she thought she caught Eloise greet Prudence. Everyone seemed to be on their best behavior.
"Penelope, sit next to me! I do not want to be stuck next to Gregory like every other meal." Hyacinth skipped over to where Penelope and Anthony had made their way.
"Maybe I would like to sit next to Penel- I mean, Miss Featherington. It would be much better company than sitting with you. Again." Gregory turned to Penelope with the most hopeful eyes. "Hello Miss Featherington. I'm so glad you could join us today."
"Hello Mr. Bridgerton, I am so pleased to have received the invitation to join you today." Penelope knew Gregory would have the ability to break hearts like the rest of his brothers, but he was such a sweet boy. She hoped he held tight to that sweetness, rather than become an expert in rakish ways, like his elder brothers.
Hyacinth laughed. "Gregory? Mr. Bridgerton?" She continued to laugh even harder in her mocking of her brother.
Gregory scowled at her.
"That's enough, you two." Anthony cut in before a brawl began. "Miss Featherington is here to meet with our entire family. We are all here to get to know one another."
"Penelope already knows us." Hyacinth rolled her eyes as if this was the most ridiculous thing her brother could have said.
Portia and Prudence looked shocked at Hyacinth's dismissal of Anthony's words.
"No one will humble you quite like your siblings will they?" Violet amused, having noted the shocked looks on Portia and Prudence's faces.
"Good point Hyacinth. Since Miss Featherington already knows you both, we will use this time for her to get to know other members of the family better." Anthony smiled at his youngest siblings in triumph. The disappointment on Gregory's face broke his heart a little, but the pout on Hyacinth's rather sweetened his little victory.
Before he could steer Penelope to her seat beside him, Penelope placed her other hand on his arm, holding him in place.
"I promise, before today's picnic ends we will steal some moments away to have our own fun. I want to hear all about what you two have been up to." Penelope smiled at the youngest Bridgertons. It wasn't so much to impress anyone else around, so much so that she knew what it was to be left behind, and she didn't want them to ever feel they didn't matter.
She looked up at Anthony to signal she was ready to be seated, and found that he was looking down at her with a grin of his own. She couldn't help but blush.
As they made their way over to the table, Anthony and Benedict helped the Featherington women take their seats, while a nearby footman helped the Bridgerton ladies. Francesca, who had been rather quiet watching this all unfold, caught Penelope's eye and they exchanged smiles in quiet greeting.
Gregory and Hyacinth had run off to play, supervised by a governess. Although in the silence that followed everyone taking their seats, Penelope wasn't sure if the two would have helped to ease the tension, or potentially thrown their brother into a rage with their antics in front of their guests.
"This is a lovely picnic. Thank you so much for arranging all of this for us" Penelope was the first to break the silence.
"Oh, it was our pleasure," Violet assured her. "When Anthony suggested it, I almost scolded myself. We have been neighbors for so long, and really the invitation is long overdue."
"Oh there's no such thing. We all know how quickly time flies each season." Portia added to reassure their host. "With Philippa's recent marriage, I cannot say I even remember the last time I was properly able to host. But I do hope this is the beginning of many more picnics and teas in the years to come."
Penelope blushed at her mother's hope. It wasn't overly forward, but the hint at why they were all here was enough to make her heart race. She chanced a glance at Anthony and found him looking at her as well. He looked… pleased. And Penelope's heart raced faster.
The tea was served, and many tea sandwiches and snacks were placed before them on the table. Prudence, sat between Eloise and Benedict, found herself in a conversation that was polite and somehow still a surprise to her.
Penelope could hear Benedict ask her about her interests.
"Are you an avid reader, as our younger sisters seem to be?" Benedict suggested.
"Oh, no. I'm not much of a reader. I prefer to embroider." Prudence looked shy at having been asked.
"Prudence is truly the best amongst us when it comes to embroidery." Penelope added, thankful to Benedict for including her sister.
Prudence looked surprised at Penelope's compliment.
"I know it's usually women who care more for embroidery, but I'm sure you would appreciate Prudence's work as an artist Mr. Bridgerton. She creates these designs that are far more interesting than anything I could ever imagine." Penelope wasn't lying, Prudence really was masterful with her embroidery. She had never seen anything like it from anyone else in the ton.
"You honor me by referring to me as an artist, Miss Featherington." Benedict smiled at Penelope before turning to Prudence. "As a fellow artist, Miss Featherington, please tell me about your medium. I would love to know more about this delicate art women are far more inclined to than men."
For a moment, Prudence looked as if Benedict might be playing a joke, having a laugh at her expense. But she must have seen the sincerity in Benedict's eyes. So she blinked away the suspicion in her eyes, and began to explain. "Well, I simply thought to create a scene, similar to a painting one day, rather than the usual delicate borders and flower-like trims found on gowns. It is much like creating my own, small, tapestry."
Prudence looked down, shying away from any harsh judgment before glancing up and down the table.
"That sounds far more interesting a project than the flowers I've tried to embroider." Eloise did not allow Prudence's insecurity to linger long.
"I never thought of embroidery as a way of creating a miniature tapestry. What a novel idea! It must be quite the undertaking though, to create such a scene." Violet sounded enchanted by the idea. The Bridgerton women were doing their best to bring Prudence into their circle, and Penelope adored them for it.
"Oh it is, Prudence is much like Francesca when she is practicing her music." Penelope smiled at Francesca, not wanting her to be left behind either, knowing she was the quietest of the siblings.
"Well, if you are committed to your embroidery the way Francesca is to her music, I'm certain whatever you embroider will be a work of art." This from Anthony.
Even if she had known what to do with the attention from the table before, Prudence would have immediately blushed at the praise from the Viscount.
"You're all too kind. I have not completed a scene yet, but I will certainly share if it goes well." Prudence, overwhelmed by the kind attention, quickly shifted the table's conversation away from herself. "Are you quite accomplished on the piano, Miss Bridgerton? Have you thought to host a concert before, or have I missed my chance to hear you play?"
From then, there were no stilted moments or silent gaps within the conversation. The Bridgertons, capable of being a rambunctious family, brought the Featherington women into a warm and gentle embrace. Penelope watched with a small smile on her face.
"And what, may I ask Miss Featherington, is the cause of that lovely smile?" Anthony leaned over to whisper his question, so that only she could hear.
Without moving her eyes from the table before her, where their families were coming together before her eyes, Penelope leaned in a bit towards Anthony, so that only he could hear her response. "I am wondering how long before your family will no longer be able to hide their chaotic nature from my family. Inevitably scaring them away."
Anthony's following laugh, and Penelope's satisfied smile caused just the slightest hiccup in conversation. Had it lasted any longer, they might have noticed the reactions on their families faces.
Violet and Benedict, thankful for Anthony's joy, before turning to Portia and Prudence, respectively, to assure them that there was nothing to be concerned about. Violet conveying to Portia how happy she was at the prospect of Anthony and Penelope, and Benedict, continuing to speak with Prudence about art as if Anthony laughing isn't a monumental event.
Portia and Prudence, having never seen the Viscount act jovial in any way trying not to look terrified but dying to know what those two could possibly have been discussing.
Francesca did not want to intrude on the romance budding before her, but she could not help but glance back to her brother and future sister and bask in the happiness radiating from their end of the table.
And Eloise. Eloise may have turned back to listen to Prudence speak with Benedict, but there was certainly a soft smile, a feeling of content settled about her person. Her brother may not love her best friend, but perhaps he could. He could certainly ensure her best friend's happiness. And with the world they lived in, what more could Eloise ask for?
As the party was well fed and everyone seemed to be finished with all the delicious snacks, Anthony addressed Portia directly.
"Lady Featherington, if you would allow it, I would like the opportunity to promenade with your lovely daughter. Perhaps one of the maids can act as chaperone, while you all continue to enjoy each other's company?"
"Of course!" As if Portia would have responded any other way. "Rey can accompany you." She smiled at Anthony and gestured at Penelope's maid who had waited with the other staff.
Anthony nodded in agreement and rose from the table. He held out his hand for Penelope, and she took it gently, trying not to blush, knowing that their families were watching them intently.
When they were out of the tent and back on the pathway for their promenade, Rey lingered an acceptable distance behind them, ensuring a proper chaperone, but also as much privacy as she could provide.
Penelope took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, trying to release the tension from her body.
"Is everything alright? We do not have to do this if you have changed your mind." Anthony looked at her as if he was studying her for any sign that this was not what she wanted.
"No no! It is not that I do not want to be courted. I am simply," Penelope paused, looking for the right words. She sighed, giving up on finding a more delicate way to say this. "I am simply bracing myself for the ton's gossip. I know they will be dumbfounded to see us together for a promenade. They will not understand how you could possibly want to court me. And rather than try to explain it, they are likely to list all the reasons why my being the Viscount's choice is absurd." She paused, releasing another breath, this one a huff more than a controlled exhale. "Those reasons will not be kind."
"I can't say I understand why they would be confused. Not when you look so lovely." Anthony's gaze slid down her figure in such a slow, appreciative manner, Penelope was certain her cheeks matched her hair.
"You look stunning Penelope. Dreamlike even." Was it possible for her cheeks to grow warmer still? Anthony coughed to cover up his rakish compliment. "I mean, this color rather suits you."
If Penelope were not trying her hardest to hide her own blush, she may have noticed the small blush coloring Anthony's cheeks. Instead, she looked down at Genevieve's creation. The dress was a lovely green color. Not a sage, or mint, or pistachio type of green that many of the young ladies would be wearing in the park. This green was deeper, earthier, a moss color that, with Rey's styling, could paint Penelope as a fairy in the forest. Dreamlike, as Anthony had said.
"Thank you. I consider myself lucky any time I can avoid looking like a citrus fruit, however, the modiste truly created magic with this dress. I cannot remember a time I felt so confident. I hope it will be enough to convince the ton I could be worthy of you, but honestly, if it could convince my mother to stop buying such gaudy dresses, that may just have to be enough." Penelope mused at her general wardrobe, but there was certainly a touch of sincere hope in her words.
"Penelope, you are worthy of being a great man's wife, regardless of whether or not the ton approves of your dress. It is I that hopes to be worthy of you." Anthony reassured her again in his way. "And if having dresses of your choice brings you happiness, I'm certainly not above promising them if you will do me the honor of being my wife." He gave her a sly smile. As if he would ever need to win her over. She would happily marry him today, if it would not cause a scandal, new dresses or not.
Penelope couldn't help but fall a little bit in love with Anthony, given his insistence that she deserve to be properly courted. He must know she does not have many options. He must know that he could marry someone far more desirable and far more beneficial to the Bridgerton name.
And yet here he is, with her hand on the crook of his arm, promenading with her in the park for all of the ton to see.
"I know you do not enjoy the attention Penelope. And I understand that the ton has been unkind to you since your debut. I cannot change that, however, I will ensure that every member of the ton understands that I am choosing you. You are who I want as my Viscountess. Whether or not others can see why is not my concern." Anthony spoke with so much conviction, that even Penelope felt like scoffing at any debutante or society mama who looked her way.
"And, that is why we are here, on this promenade, alone." Anthony continued, before glancing back at Rey. "Well, as alone as is appropriate. I do not want there to be any mistake or confusion. If our families were to promenade together, they would simply assume you are a guest of my sister's. This way there will be no doubt about my intentions."
Penelope smiled at his words. "It seems like you have thought of everything."
"You'll find, Penelope, that I'm rather intelligent." He looked incredibly smug, and he raised his nose in the air to speak with a bit more hauteur, and Penelope could not help but giggle.
Her laughter subsided as they continued to walk. It was a pleasant silence between them, though Penelope worried they might look sad or miserable to any onlookers. Already she could see the others in the park pausing to look over. Some looked confused as to what they were seeing.
"I also thought, we might use this time to get to know one another." Penelope looked up at his words. "I know you have been a part of our family for years, however, I find I do not know much about my future wife."
Penelope couldn't help but blush at his referring to her as his future wife.
"That's a wonderful idea." She continued to smile up at him. "I'm afraid I know more about each of your siblings than I do about my future husband as well." Her heart raced and she quickly looked forward, both hoping to watch her step, but also wanting to avoid seeing the awkwardness on Anthony's face when he registered her words. What was she thinking, being so forward?
"Yes, and I'm afraid with the way my siblings fight for your attention, I'm rather concerned we may never get to know one another." He laughed at this, though they both knew there was a bit of truth in his words. Gregory and Hyacinth's antics before were only a glimpse of what was to come.
"I'm afraid though, for all of my capital R rakish ways, that I do not know the first thing about courting a young lady. I have no idea what it is that suitors speak to young ladies about. And given that young gentlemen wait until I am away," he gave Penelope a conspiratorial look at this, "to approach my sisters, I'm afraid I have not even watched other gentlemen attempt it."
Penelope blushed at her own words coming from Anthony's mouth. When she first wrote them, she never would have guessed that he would one day know they were her words. She was relieved to have him know she was Lady Whistledown, and to have him accept her so, but she was also mortified.
"Well I'm sure that a capital R rake like yourself will figure it out in no time." In for a penny in for a pound. "What would you want to know?"
"Well," Anthony lowered his voice, even though no one could hear them, "there is one item I am dying to ask you about, however, given the nature of this story, it would be best to wait until we were in a more private place to entertain that story."
She knew he was asking about Lady Whistledown.
"I promise I will tell you the entire story, soon I'm sure. But you would be right. How about I start, and ask you questions I would want to know about my future husband?"
He winced at the suggestion. "I can't say I like speaking about myself, but I trust you. Ask away!"
His trust in her sent her heart fluttering.
"Alright… What is your favorite color?" It was the silliest question she could have asked. Why would she ask him about colors?
"Blue, most likely." At least he did not laugh at her question.
"Ah, is it a family tradition then? Or a binding law?" Penelope attempted a bit of hauteur in her following words, attempting a joke of her own. "Every Bridgerton born must select Bridgerton Blue as their favorite color."
Anthony chuckled. "You know, I have no idea how that has come to be. Although, I would guess it was my mother's doing, having been responsible for all my sister's clothes. I prefer to dress in a more gentlemanly color. A navy or some such shade. If you ask me a question to clarify though, I'm afraid I will only embarrass myself. My knowledge of colors is limited, and I can already hear Benedict laughing at my words."
"I would never let him laugh at you." Penelope meant to comfort him, and she patted his arm lightly, but she didn't quite catch the glee on Anthony's face at her insistence that she would be the one to protect him.
"But I won't press you for your favorite artwork next, as I planned." She glanced over to see Anthony relieved. "What meal is your absolute favorite?"
"The cook at Aubrey Hall makes the most amazing stew. On the winter nights leading up to Christmas, I swear I could eat it every day. When we were younger, we would always have it after playing out in the snow. Even our father would join us on occasion." Those memories continued to hold a special place in Anthony's heart. It was clear from the fond look on his face as they continued to walk forward. "But if you instruct the cook to make it too often, there's a possibility you will also need to order a new wardrobe for me. Surely my waistcoats will no longer fit."
"Oh do not worry, I won't be requesting this special stew often." She looked up at him with a sparkle of mischief in her eyes. "This information is indispensable, for the moments your siblings inevitably try your patience. Or perhaps I will save these requests for when Hyacinth has tested your sanity beyond belief."
Anthony laughed, but he couldn't help the vision before him. His lovely wife, lifting his spirits in ways only she knew. He shook his head, before he began to imagine the more salacious ways his wife could lift his spirits.
They continued on in this manner until they found themselves returned to the tent where the rest of the party remained. So caught up in their conversation, they did not notice the way their peers turned their way to watch in disbelief. Some of them whispering behind their fans, while the less discreet practically pointing.
It would not be long before word spread that Lord Bridgerton was courting the youngest Miss Featherington. And with news this shocking, it would surely spread like fire.
Before they reached the tent, Penelope slowed and looked up at Anthony. "Thank you, for a lovely promenade, and for arranging this picnic for our families."
"It was my pleasure." And with that, they turned towards the tent and entered, joining their families.
"There you are!" Portia feigned surprise at seeing the young couple return. "I'm afraid we really should return home. This has been the most wonderful outing, but I'm afraid we really must be going. I did not even realize how quickly the time has passed."
"Yes, I'm afraid I have prolonged our promenade more than may be appropriate. But I could not help but indulge in Miss Featherington's company." Anthony placed his hand over hers on his arm and smiled down at her.
Similar to the beginning of their picnic, Portia and Prudence were downright shocked at Anthony's words. Benedict hid his smirk behind his hand and suppressed his chuckle as best he could. Truly, his brother was lost. Eloise looked disgusted at the idea of her brother being any bit charming, and Francesca watched her brother romance the young lady with glee.
Penelope blushed. "Mother, before we leave, could we stay a few moments? For Gregory and Hyacinth. I promised I would spend some time with them before the picnic ended. Just a little while, as the picnic is being packed away?"
"If you're certain we won't be in the way." Portia didn't sound excited to prolong this outing, but she couldn't exactly refuse Penelope in front of the Bridgertons.
Penelope looked up to Anthony as if his approval would be the final say. "I promise we won't be in the way."
Anthony beamed at her. How had it taken him so long to realize how wonderful life could be with Penelope by his side?
"I know they would both be absolutely cross with me if I let you leave before they could see you. And Hyacinth would certainly enact some horrible revenge because I kept you to myself the entire picnic." They both chuckled, knowing what Hyacinth could be capable of. "I would much appreciate it if you could stay just a bit longer. Thank you for thinking of them."
"Yes, we really do appreciate it. Otherwise I would hear of nothing else for the next three days, at least." Violet added her thanks.
As the staff began to pack up the picnic, Penelope made her way to Gregory and Hyacinth to listen to their stories, and Anthony joined their families to exchange pleasantries with Portia and Prudence before their departure.
Neither could help glancing at the other, time and time again. And had they not been trying so hard to focus on the conversation before them, they might have noticed the other doing the same. Their mothers and siblings certainly noticed.
"Well, that was quite the outing." Portia let out a breath of relief once they were settled in the carriage and on their way home. The Bridgertons had bid them farewell and seen them off as hosts, despite the outing being held in the park, before no doubt settling into their own carriages.
"They are a rather active bunch." Prudence looked exhausted. "Although with such a large family, I guess there is always someone with something to say."
"But everything went well." The Bridgertons could have forced Portia to play lawn games and still she would not complain. "And Penelope that was brilliant complimenting Prudence's embroidery! Do you believe the younger Bridgerton may take an interest? Oh this will bring so many opportunities for you Prudence."
Prudence looked as if she would prefer not to be part of such a large and boisterous family but wouldn't be so rude. Not when they truly had welcomed her so kindly.
"No, mama. I believe Mr. Bridgerton is not in the market for a wife. I believe the family is still in shock that Lord Bridgerton is interested in taking a wife. Lady Bridgerton will not press her luck and make any suggestions to her other children at this time. But, she is a kind woman and I truly believe that if she knows Prudence a bit better, she will certainly do her best to make an introduction that will lead to Prudence being happily married. Even if it is not with one of her sons." Penelope thought this deflection was a good way to steer her mother from throwing Prudence at Benedict.
"No man is ever interested in taking a wife until suddenly he is. Sometimes you have to show them it is time." Portia would not give up easily once an idea occurred to her.
"Let us wait a moment before seeming too eager, Mama. Lady Bridgerton is well connected, and if we give her just a bit of time, she may even find a match for Prudence that is better than a second son. But she will not attempt to if she believes Prudence is interested in Mr. Bridgerton." Penelope was hoping this line of reasoning would work.
"You are right. It would be convenient, but we should not settle so quickly." And with that Portia was dreaming big dreams for her eldest daughter.
Prudence remained quiet, but she looked at Penelope rather thoughtfully.
Finally, she spoke. "I am rather glad that you will be moving just across the street, Penelope. It will be nice to have you close, even after you are married. Perhaps we will still be able to meet for tea or attend the shops together."
Penelope was taken aback. Prudence had never shown any interest in spending more time than was necessary with her younger sister. She and Philippa had been almost inseparable, but Penelope had felt a bit like a nuisance at times.
There was a warmth spreading through Penelope's limbs at Prudence's words. But she knew she could not be overly emotional. Neither Prudence, nor Portia, would be comfortable with her tears.
"I'm very glad too, Prudence."
They rode home in silence after that, all three women thinking on the day they just had and looking forward to some rest.
And Portia? She looked between her daughters with pride. Whatever may come their way, the Featherington women would always have each other.
Notes:
I read a fic a while ago where Prudence was really into embroidery, and was also really good at it. It was such a little thing but I loved that it gave her something she was passionate about. I also just recently started learning how to embroider myself so tbh, I think I see a bit of me in Prudence now too, lol.
Chapter 4: Lady Whistledown
Summary:
It was necessary for Lady Whistledown to comment on the courtship between Lord Bridgerton and Miss Featherington, but will she give this pairing her stamp of approval? The ton is waiting to find out!
Notes:
I want to write more romance, but just as Anthony has to share Penelope with all of his siblings, so must the story line be shared with allll of the relations lol.
If you're thinking to yourself, just get to the scenes with Anthony already!! Know that I also feel that way, and in fact, I want to fast forward to when we "add a bit of spice."
But considering this feels like a slow romance, I'm afraid we still have some time before we even arrive at their first kiss. I can at least guarantee that this fic will remain Ramadan friendly the rest of this month.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
The next morning, Penelope woke up refreshed. She had sent the latest issue of Lady Whistledown to her printer the evening before, and now she simply had to wait for its arrival.
She knew she had commented on her courtship with Anthony as best she could. Not overly supportive, but certainly shocked, as the majority of the ton would be. And with as little suspicion as possible, so as not to fan the gossip among the ton too negatively.
No, this would be a turning point in Lady Whistledown's comments regarding Penelope. Too sharp a turn could raise suspicion. Too wide a turn could allow the ton to run wild with harsh comments. But Penelope had to believe that her years as Lady Whistledown had prepared her for this exact moment.
She took one more fortifying breath and rose from her bed, ready to attend to the day.
With the successful promenade the day before, the new issue set to arrive shortly, and new dresses ordered, Penelope did not have anything immediate to do in order to convince the ton that her courtship with Anthony was real.
She let her mind wander over what else she could do to shift the ton's opinion in her favor. By the time Rey arrived to help her dress, she had not decided on much else other than commentary in the following issues of Lady Whistledown.
And unless she was seen out in society, there would be very little to comment on. And if she were seen much without Anthony, Lady Whistledown would not have anything very kind to say.
She sighed as she headed down to the dining room to break her fast. She was not sure when she would see Anthony next. They had not spoken of any plans, and she did not want to push him towards giving her more time than he was willing.
No, she would have to wait for him to come to her. She could not direct him constantly for the sake of the ton's opinion. Anthony had been nothing but kind to her, but he was also a gentleman with very little patience for idle gossip.
For now, Penelope must simply carry on as usual.
Well, not usual.
Her wardrobe would be different, as would her demeanor at the next ball.
Whether Anthony was in attendance or not, she would need to carry herself as a future Viscountess. Not a simpering wallflower.
This would make gathering news for Lady Whistledown more difficult, but Lady Whistledown was no longer her future as she once imagined. Anthony could be her future.
The Bridgerton home and name could be her future.
"Good morning mother. Good morning Prudence." Penelope put her thoughts aside as she arrived at the breakfast table. No use in letting her mind wander in circles.
"Good morning Penelope." Portia was beaming at her youngest. "Do you believe Lord Bridgerton will call today?"
Penelope's heart clenched. She had not thought about her mother's growing excitement. She would have to let her down gently.
"I am not sure, mother. Lord Bridgerton has given us so much time yesterday, and the day before as well. I did not think to ask him if he would call today, as I did not want to seem greedy or desperate. He has business matters to attend to as well, so I did not want to seem careless of his time." Penelope responded, hoping her mother would take the hint.
"Ah, yes. He has a rather large estate to manage." Portia's glee could not be repressed. "And you were correct not to push. Men do not want demanding wives. We will simply be patient. I'm sure he will call again soon."
Penelope's shoulders almost sank with relief. Had she not convinced her mother to have some patience, surely she would be scheming for ways to force Penelope and Anthony together. Anything to speed along a possible engagement.
Instead, she nodded in agreement with her mother, before turning to Prudence, hoping to engage her sister in conversation.
The moments from the day before still warmed Penelope's heart and she did not want to push, but she also did not want to lose the chance to grow the sisterly love that had the potential to bloom between her and her oldest sister.
"Prudence, did you plan to embroider today? Perhaps we can take our work out to the garden and enjoy the weather?"
"Yes, I thought to. There doesn't seem to be much else to do today. There is a ball tomorrow but nothing urgent to prepare today." Prudence suddenly looked a bit shy. "And now that the Bridgertons know about my embroidery, I fear they will want to see it soon. So I will need to finish something worth sharing."
"Nonsense! Prudence you have lovely embroidery pieces you could show Lady Bridgerton." Portia must be thinking of ways to impress Lady Bridgerton into finding Prudence a match.
"I agree, mother. Prudence you have so many lovely pieces you could share. I would not worry much about the opinions of the Bridgerton family. They understood your idea would take more time than the usual embroidery designs." Penelope added to reassure her sister.
"That is true. And we have no idea when we will see them next, unless it is at a ball, so there certainly is no rush to create something for them." Prudence seemed to be coming out of her uncertainty. "Yes, let us sit for a bit in the garden. I will bring my embroidery. I am assuming you will bring a book?"
Before Penelope could respond, a footman entered the room with the latest issue of Lady Whistledown.
"Oh! Hurry! Give it here. We must know what Lady Whistledown has to say about your courtship. I'm sure she regrets all of her cruel words." Portia snatched the issue from the tray the footman held in triumph.
Penelope knew exactly what Lady Whistledown would say, word for word. Nevertheless, she forced herself to look nervous before her mother and sister.
"Dearest Gentle Reader, when I heard our favorite rake, Lord Bridgerton, was seen dancing with the youngest Miss Featherington, I simply did not deem it worth mentioning. We have seen the young Bridgerton men dance with Miss Featherington on any occasion in which they are in attendance. This has never signified a courtship, simply a kindness towards a family friend." Portia scoffed at Lady Whistledown's words, as if she also hadn't believed that those dances did not signify.
"When word reached me that Lord Bridgerton had graced the dancefloor, not a usual occurrence even when he is in attendance at a society function, with Miss Featherington, I assumed it was again a kindness towards a family friend. That it was the waltz I assumed was a mistake. There has been neither word nor whisper that the Viscount is in search of a wife."
"Honestly, from how ecstatic Lady Bridgerton seemed at your courtship, I'm not sure even she realized her son was in search of a wife," Prudence noted. Anthony certainly had been as discreet as possible of his intentions this season.
"It is with great humility that I report to you, dearest reader, that I, Lady Whistledown, was incorrect." Portia continued to read, without acknowledging Prudence's comment, but pausing to savor her victory before continuing. "Many members of the ton were shocked to see Lord Bridgerton promenade with the youngest Miss Featherington just yesterday afternoon. What seemed like a family picnic between two neighbors, not unlikely given the novel friendship between Miss Featherington and Miss Bridgerton, was much more than first meets the eye."
"Novel is certainly a kind way to refer to your friendship with Eloise." Prudence commented again in passing, although it did not hold any malice as it may have in the past, Penelope noted.
"It seems that Lord Bridgerton has in fact set his sights on Miss Featherington as the future Viscountess. While I fear we do not know much about Miss Featherington, aside from her vibrant wardrobe, I will certainly be paying more attention to our modest wallflower in future." Portia was practically racing to the end of the issue. "To be surprised by such an occurrence has led me to believe I may have lost my touch. But fear not, dear reader, I have not abandoned you just yet."
"Imagine, your courtship with Lord Bridgerton is what ends Lady Whistledown." Prudence laughed at that.
If only she knew how close she was to the truth. Penelope could not stop imagining the possibility that she would not have to rely on her Lady Whistledown earnings to survive.
"Well she hasn't given up yet. We can only hope that she comments kindly on our courtship going forward." Penelope had pretended to hear the words in a Lady Whistledown issue many times before, but this was the first in which she was the leading lady of the story. "Lord Bridgerton does not want any sort of gossip that this is due to scandal or that either party has been forced. Any negative comment may suggest to society that Lord Bridgerton simply had no choice."
"Yes, he was very adamant that he wanted this to be a proper courtship, without any cause for gossip." Portia looked on thoughtfully, but Penelope could see her mind contemplating ways to move this courtship along without a cause inciting gossip.
She scrambled to think of something.
"People have always gossiped, and if they desire to, they will gossip even where there is no scandal." Prudence had a point. All of society was rather interested in gossip, even those who pretended it was beneath them. The legitimacy of any rumor would not stop a woman from becoming ruined.
"Yes, but I am rather thankful Lord Bridgerton is so careful as to not allow it to the best of his ability. It will be best for both families. If I become Viscountess surrounded by scandal, it may negate any benefit my marriage could have for Prudence's prospects." Penelope was certain of this, not as a tactic to reign in her mother, but truly for the best outcome for her sister. "If the ton believes that I have somehow trapped the Viscount in some scandal, then the gentlemen of the ton will keep a distance from Prudence as well, so as not to risk being similarly trapped."
Penelope took a small sip of her tea to let the consequences sink in.
"No, if society believes that Lord Bridgerton truly desires to have me as his wife, then they will likely believe Prudence must also be desirable as a wife."
Portia nodded in agreement, though she did not seem too keen on being patient.
Penelope thought to end the conversation before her mother could think of any other plans.
"I believe I'm ready to head to the gardens, Prudence. I shall just grab a book and meet you there shortly?"
Penelope did not expect Anthony to call again, not when they had seen each other these past two days. Certainly a third would be asking for too much.
She was surprised when the footman entered to announce a caller.
Her mother looked as if all her prayers had been answered, while both Penelope and Prudence looked surprised.
It was only when the footman announced it was Miss Bridgerton that Prudence and Portia both lost interest, though Penelope was somehow even more excited.
Eloise entered quite like a storm, as she is known to do.
"Hello Lady Featherington!" She gave a quick bow before nodding with a smile at Prudence and moving towards Penelope. "Hello Prudence."
Eloise sat down, turned to Penelope and held out a small sealed letter. "I do not intend to become a messenger pigeon, but as your best friend, I believe I can make an exception just this once."
Penelope grabbed the letter as gently as she could, seeing her name written on the outside in a masculine script. Her mother and sister had also turned in attention.
She carefully opened the note, trying her best not to seem over eager in Eloise's presence.
"I only ask that if he has said anything even slightly romantic or charming you not share with us. I think I would be ill thinking of Anthony as anything other than a bossy grump." Eloise could be happy for her best friend, but she could not view any of her brothers as desirable husbands. Such is the bond between brothers and sisters.
Penelope looked down at her note.
"I am sorry that I cannot see you today, but I would like to call on you again tomorrow. Perhaps at your home, in the privacy of your mother's garden, we can get to know one another better."
Sincerely, he had signed it. It was a bit formal but she had not expected any note or communication from Anthony, why should she be disappointed at its directness. Did she think he would be rakish in his notes?
"Well?" Eloise practically leaned over to see.
Penelope quickly held the letter close. "Your brother simply wanted to inform me that he will call again tomorrow."
"Oh! We shall have to have cook prepare something special!" Portia turned to leave the drawing room before pausing and turning back. "How silly of me, I have not even called for tea for you Miss Bridgerton."
"Oh, please, call me Eloise." Eloise reassured Portia that there was no offense taken. "And you do not need to worry about me. In fact, I came to see whether Penelope and I might go for some shopping to the book store."
"I'm not sure, as it is still calling hours." Portia seemed hesitant.
"Yes, but mama, Lord Bridgerton has made it known that he will not call today. And I have not spent much time with Eloise in so long." Penelope practically pleaded.
"Far too long! And it seems I will only have to share your time more in the future," Eloise grumbled. "I thought to invite you for tea, but mother suggested that it may be better for me to visit you, now that the ton knows Anthony is courting you."
Portia nodded, though Prudence and Penelope seemed a bit confused.
"She said something about your visits could now make you look desperate. I say we shouldn't be so bothered by what society thinks, but mother was adamant that everyone see Anthony is pursuing you, and not the other way round." Eloise continued on, rather annoyed at the inconvenience to her personally with this development.
"Your mother is far too considerate, and you must tell her how much I appreciate her concern for my daughter's reputation." Portia sounded moved. "No, I will write to her to convey so myself. And I will arrange for that tea service." With that, Portia exited the room, on a mission to do her part to strengthen the bond between the two families.
The young ladies looked at each other, not knowing what to do now that Portia had left the room in a hurry. Prudence simply shook her head and turned back to her embroidery.
Penelope shrugged and she and Eloise smiled at the antics of mothers.
"So shall we venture to the book store?" Eloise asked.
"I'm not sure I'm ready to face the ton again. Not since Lady Whistledown's latest issue has confirmed your brother is courting me. The attention during our promenade was enough to give me my fill for a lifetime, I must say." Penelope confessed. An outing with Eloise was normally the bright spot of her week, however she knew with her latest issue in the hands of everyone in the ton, the outing would be very different from their usual hours in the bookstore.
"You mean you don't care to see the absolute fury in Cressida's eyes at your being courted by my brother?" Eloise didn't often wish anyone ill, but she had witnessed Cressida's unnecessary cruelty towards Penelope often enough. It seemed Penelope wouldn't be the only one who was satisfied at this victory over Cressida, and she couldn't help but giggle at her best friend's support.
"Oh, I am anticipating quite the nasty comments from Cressida when she sees me next. Not that her words will change anything. She will still be looking for a husband, while I am being courted by one of the most eligible bachelors in the ton." Penelope giggled again at the look on Eloise's face when she referred to Anthony as an eligible bachelor.
"Please, I beg you, do not refer to Anthony as eligible, or desirable, or anything of the sort. It removes all of the fun in this when I'm reminded we are speaking of my brother." Eloise looked absolutely disgusted at the thought.
Penelope couldn't help but laugh. The conversation quickly turned to other things. The tea service arrived soon after, and Eloise used the interruption to include Prudence in the conversation as well. Prudence was still hesitant to spend time with Penelope and Eloise, but she did not look as shocked as she had at the picnic. Penelope and Eloise for their part, allowed her to continue on with her embroidery nearby, asking her a question from time to time. Penelope could see the way her friendship with Eloise could become a small group, including Prudence and maybe even Philippa if they were able to see her more often.
Maybe Francesca and Prudence would be better suited as friends, as they both enjoy quietly practicing their crafts.
Penelope's heart was full, just here with her sister and her best friend. And it didn't hurt that the time passed quickly and she found she did not have a chance to fret about Anthony's visit tomorrow.
The next morning Penelope awoke nervous. She was not as nervous as she had been prior to the picnic, but she knew she would see Anthony today, and her heart raced at the thought.
They would have some time to get to know one another again, and with the added privacy of being in her home, she knew they would need to revisit her identity as Lady Whistledown.
Penelope sighed. She had nothing to fear. He already knew she was behind the gossip column, and he had even seemed to sincerely admire her achievement.
But what if that feeling changed. As she explained how this all came about, what if he decided he wasn't impressed but appalled. She prayed he would continue to understand.
Before she knew it, calling hours had begun, and she was sitting in the drawing room with her mother and sister.
It was not long before the footman entered to announce the arrival of Lord Bridgerton.
"Lord Bridgerton," her mother exclaimed as Anthony entered. "How wonderful to see you again. Please, make yourself comfortable, I will just call for some tea."
Penelope knew her mother had discussed the tea service with the cook for almost an hour the evening before, wanting to ensure a top notch spread for Anthony. She also knew her mother would do her best to pretend this was all being done on a moment's notice.
"Thank you Lady Featherington. A bit of tea would be much appreciated." Anthony turned to greet Prudence as well before turning to Penelope and giving her a smile, bouquet in hand.
While she knew he would call on her again today, for some reason she had not imagined another bouquet. She was so focused on the conversation they would surely have, that she didn't have a moment to think on how sincerely he was courting her.
Anyone passing by would have seen the Viscount arriving on their doorstep with the beautiful bouquet.
Today, they were a collection of large purple pansies, lavender primrose, and small blooms of sweet william, that were mostly white but with just touches of lilac around the edges of its petals.
Penelope couldn't help but smile at the bouquet.
"Thank you, my lord. These are lovely." Penelope held on to them as if they were the most precious thing she had ever received. "Please, have a seat," she pointed towards the chaise.
"I'm glad to hear they are to your liking. While I insisted on the promenade so that we may get to know one another, I failed in my suitor duties to inquire about your favorite flowers." Anthony looked genuinely ashamed. "So I'm afraid I have had to guess and hope for the best today. But I will not leave here today without knowing which flowers would make you happiest."
Penelope blushed. She was not used to someone doting on her, and knowing her mother and sister were nearby watching their interactions made her even more self conscious.
"I'm not certain I have a favorite. So many flowers are beautiful." Penelope figured this was a more graceful answer than admitting that she never had cause to choose a favorite, and she never expected to receive any.
"Surely you must have some preference. Or must I bring every variety before you choose?" Anthony joked, but she had a small feeling he would bring her every variety in London one by one so she could form an opinion.
"Oh, no no! I just have not given much thought to choosing a favorite." Penelope looked away a moment, hoping Anthony would not press her.
"Penelope," Anthony leaned in, having noticed she seemed to be hiding something. "You are far too observant and far too intelligent to have no opinion whatsoever on the matter. And your mother's garden is far too lovely for me to believe that you have never considered the blooms that surround you." He seemed to almost be accusing her.
And Penelope's blush deepened.
"If you have not thought to choose a favorite, what did you think of?" It was as if he had noticed exactly how she was avoiding the question.
Penelope sighed. They were getting to know one another, and he was asking her preferences. She was being difficult withholding something so small and silly. She just didn't want him to think of her as small and silly.
"More than anything, I've always wondered about the messages people send one another with flowers." He seemed confused so she began to elaborate. "Different blooms have different meanings, and can convey different messages or feelings. And I'm not quite sure who has created this secret language. In trying to learn it, I have on occasion found conflicting bits of information."
She glanced his way and saw that he wasn't looking at her as if she was silly, but as if he was truly interested in what she had to say. So she continued on.
"I would sometimes imagine what kind of flowers a hero in one of my novels would send his heroine. What sort of message would he silently say to confess his love?" Why had she said that? He would surely think she was silly now. Thank god her mother and sister had moved away after sending for tea.
"Well, I cannot say I know much about this secret language, as I've never had reason to pay so much attention to flowers before. But at least I have confirmed today that I am indeed courting a romantic." Anthony gave her a cheeky smile, almost as if he thought it was sweet that she was a romantic, rather than silly.
"Well it isn't just for romantics. I have on occasion imagined the most beautiful bouquet I could send Cressida in order to convey my fury when she's been more cruel than usual." She gave him a mischievous smile in return, hoping to steer the conversation away from her romantic notions.
Anthony laughed. "Romantic and fiery. I will certainly never be bored with you as my wife."
If the heroes in her books had a smile like Anthony's they would never need flowers. The heroine would simply swoon at his charm, much like Penelope was currently willing herself not to do.
"Although, now you have me worried. What if I have erred in my naivety, and sent you a horrible message?"
"Considering I am still looking forward to your visit, you can rest assured that you have not offended me." Penelope smiled, and paused before she continued. "Thank you, my lord, for your note. You can imagine the excitement since your first visit, and the picnic. You were not obliged to send word, but it certainly eased my nerves, and my families, to know that you still intended to pursue this courtship."
"Of course, Penelope." She could almost see what she thought might be affection in his eyes before he stood and held out his hand for her to take.
She took it slowly, not entirely sure what he intended, and rose from the chaise they had been sitting on.
"Lady Featherington, I hope you do not mind if Miss Featherington and I visit your garden again. With a chaperone of course. It seems I am severely lacking in knowledge of flowers, and I would like to rectify this shortcoming at once. I believe Miss Featherington could teach me quite a bit with the variety of blooms in your garden."
Portia looked confused, but she wouldn't deny Anthony anything. Even requests she didn't understand.
"Of course! Rey will accompany you."
"Thank you," and with that Anthony led Penelope towards the drawing room door, intending to take the same path to the garden they had taken a few days before.
Once they arrived in the garden, Anthony led her to the bench and gestured for her to sit first.
"I hope you weren't too eager to teach me more about this language of flowers. I had been failing to come up with a plan where we could come to the garden together and talk more privately. But once you mentioned this secret language I thought it might be my only opportunity." Anthony quickly explained, as if he owed her much. Penelope simply blushed at the thought that he wanted a private word with her. There was something so intimate about all of this.
Rey was in the garden as well, so nothing inappropriate could happen, but with her standing at a distance, practically out of sight by one of the hedges, it did feel as if they were practically alone.
"Have no fear, my lord." Penelope chuckled at his scheming. "In fact, I am rather relieved you didn't truly intend to learn more about flowers today. I'm not sure what I could have shared with you on a moment's notice."
"Make no mistake, I will be looking into bouquets with more scrutiny in the future. And I fully intend to decipher what I may have conveyed to you before, once I return home." Anthony looked determined. To see him speak this way about flowers was so absurd, Penelope couldn't help but laugh.
"That's really not necessary, my lord."
"Anthony," he corrected.
She blushed at the reminder. Suddenly, the intimacy of their meeting was pressing in on her. She could feel the weight of it and was certain the blush was all over her body.
Anthony for his part, didn't seem to notice her inner turmoil.
"Anthony," she repeated. "Tell me, was there something you wanted to speak about, as you schemed to orchestrate this more private moment?"
She was fairly certain she knew, and she had been bracing herself for this moment since Eloise delivered Anthony's note.
"Well, I do not want to sound too eager, but I was hoping to hear how it is that you became Lady Whistledown." He looked a bit shy at the request. "I did see the latest issue yesterday, and I could not help but wonder how many times I, or my mother, or one of my siblings, had read and discussed your words, without any idea that it was you."
"And what did you think? Of the latest issue that is."
"I thought it was brilliant. Having spoken briefly about why you have written unkindly about yourself in the past, I could see how you slightly shifted the way Lady Whistledown spoke of you." He paused as if considering what he had just said. "I guess you shifted the way you wrote about you. But to everyone else, it was Lady Whistledown. And there was still shock and surprise, but there was no malice or cruelty in the words."
Penelope had done that rather intentionally. Both for the sake of shifting the ton's opinion of her, and also to avoid Anthony's frustration. She had a feeling, now that he knew it was her, that he would be put out to hear her speak of herself in less than kind words.
"Yes, I was hoping to make note of the development without sharing any specific opinion on our pairing just yet. If Lady Whistledown intends to withhold judgment for the moment, I hope others will as well."
"Truly brilliant." He smiled down at her with what looked like admiration.
Penelope blushed again and looked away. She shouldn't believe his smiles were anything more than friendly. This was not a love marriage. Anthony needed a wife that would treat his family well, and she needed to marry.
This was practically a marriage of convenience.
"Will you tell me then, how it is that you became Lady Whistledown?"
"It isn't so exciting a story as you may be imagining. It's rather embarrassing." Penelope glanced over, but Anthony seemed steadfast in his interest.
"I do not believe you were present during my debut. Eloise debuted the following year. I was without a friend that first season, when I most needed one. For some reason, Cressida Cowper decided to point to all of my flaws within earshot of any potential suitor. Sometimes she pointed them out directly to them." Penelope could see the fury rising in Anthony's eyes.
She noted the way his fists clenched, and decided to continue quickly. The more she hesitated, the more he would think she was still hurt.
"She may have believed that by noting my flaws before these gentlemen, she somehow presented herself as far more desirable in comparison."
"Instead, she presented herself as a terrible gossip to all those gentlemen. I believe she is still unwed." Anthony noted.
"Yes, and Eloise and I both believe she will be the most disappointed to hear the news of our courtship." Penelope giggled at what could be her victory over Cressida, but mostly, she hoped it would break the tension rising from their conversation. Anthony looked as if he was ready to duel.
"Unfortunately, even if Cressida did prove herself to be unkind, she also managed to paint me as undesirable. I found myself fading into the shadows, or trying my hardest to blend into the curtains or wallpaper, despite my bright and gaudy dresses. Anything to avoid her barbs."
"I wish that your first season could have been more enjoyable." Anthony was sweet to comfort her.
"Luckily Eloise joined me the following year. Her company made a world of difference." Penelope couldn't help but smile while thinking of her friend.
"I'm sure Eloise instilled the fear of God into anyone who thought so much as a small unkind thought towards you." Anthony smiled back at Penelope, both of them thinking of Eloise's passion for justice.
"It certainly helped to have a Bridgerton on my side. Though Eloise could not change the reputation I had already gained, she at least kept the direct barbs at bay with her presence. And your brothers were always kind as well, offering to dance with me so that I had at least stepped on the dance floor once or twice." Penelope truly cherished the Bridgertons. Even Colin's harmful comments last season aside, they had always gone out of their way to be kind to her.
"I regret not having been present more often. I should have liked to dance with you as well. It's a shame that my younger brothers constantly play the hero in your life, while I have been utterly useless. Even Gregory attempted to offer you marriage before I could." Anthony shook his head and Penelope couldn't help but giggle.
"I'm afraid Gregory is the most heroic of all the Bridgerton men. It's a shame I am not younger, or that he is not older." Penelope sighed dramatically, and tried to look wistful, however she could not manage it for long. The scowl on Anthony's face was too serious and she began to laugh.
"Surely you know I am only teasing you." He only looked slightly placated at this comment.
"Well I will certainly outshine my brother's efforts soon enough, starting with the various romantic messages I will send you with bouquet after bouquet." There was that classic Bridgerton competitiveness.
Penelope giggled, but only to cover her nervousness. Her heart was racing at the thought that Anthony was about to become even more attentive in courting her. What had she done to deserve this?
"You still have not told me how it is that you became Lady Whistledown. And I am starting to fear that it is all far more nefarious than I could imagine. Pray, tell me you are not involved in any illegal activities."
"No, nothing of the sort. It really is quite boring. It was during my first season, with all the frustration at being outcast for no reason, or being looked down upon by the other debutantes, I began to write this gossip column. I had no intention of publishing it. I simply wrote it to vent my anger and have my own little revenge. I was a bit careless one day and left my pages at the writing desk in the drawing room as my father's solicitor was visiting for some work. He saw them and thought they were rather entertaining."
Anthony waited patiently for her to go on.
"He asked if I would consider publishing them, and offered to set up the first orders with the printer, and a bank account for the earnings."
"And obviously he would take some portion of these sales for his services." Anthony scowled. He clearly did not approve of this solicitor suggesting Penelope risk her reputation in such a manner.
"There were no funds in the beginning. He suggested I not charge anything for two weeks, allowing the ton to become hooked on the gossip column. That third week when the delivery boys began asking for payment, everyone seemed more than willing to pay. The column has been successful ever since." Penelope saw the skeptical look on Anthony's face.
"Yes, the solicitor did take a small fee for his assistance, and he did help to manage my account in the beginning. However, when I began arranging to deliver the issues myself, and when my father's debts grew, he refused to take any commission." Anthony's disapproval vanished, relieved to know Penelope hadn't been unnecessarily taken advantage of. "He passed away a few years past, but I shall always be thankful to him. He took a risk in conducting business for a young lady, but he provided the only means of security I had all these years."
Anthony nodded, completely letting go of any ill will he may have had towards the solicitor at this point.
"I told you it was not so exciting a tale. I feel rather as if I have let you down with such a dull story."
"It isn't dull, and I have a feeling there is much more excitement in the story behind how you collect this gossip, and certainly danger in how the column is delivered for printing." Anthony stopped her to send her a small glare. "However, I believe it is best for my sanity that I not be allowed to imagine you in that sort of danger."
Penelope smiled, but agreed she did not particularly want a scolding from Anthony regarding this either. "I promise I have been very, very careful."
He looked at her as if she were mocking him and shook his head.
"I do not intend to be the sort of husband who lords over his wife, Penelope." Penelope seemed to lose her breath at the reminder that he could be her husband soon. "I do not wish to tell you how to conduct your very successful business. But I beg you to allow me to help. It is my duty as a husband to protect my wife, and I will not stop you from your work, but I insist that I be allowed to shield you from the risks involved."
Penelope was flustered. She was touched that he referred to her work as successful, and she always knew Anthony was dutiful towards his family. How often had she wished for security and protection like her friend had? And here she was, about to be the recipient of it.
He was speaking of their future as husband and wife, and again she was reminded of the intimacy of their meeting. The air between them felt charged. Her heart, which had been fluttering with joy through their conversation, was now racing.
"That won't be necessary." He scowled at her response when she finally responded to his request. He opened his mouth to insist, but she held up her hand to cut him off.
"Allow me to explain. I do not mean to refuse your protection. I'm incredibly honored to have it. I simply mean that it will not be needed in this specific manner. I do not intend to be Lady Whistledown for much longer."
Anthony looked taken aback. "But you are so successful, and you enjoy this."
"I did enjoy this. In the beginning it was an incredible feeling to finally have a voice in a society that did not care to even know me, let alone heed my opinions. And I am proud of what I have created, I always will be."
She paused here, thinking of how to explain. Anthony reached over and held her hand. She looked down at their joined hands and she could feel her heart beginning to race again. Speaking with Anthony could feel so natural, as if she were talking to one of her dearest friends, but in the moments that she was reminded this was much more she would panic at the newness of it all.
She tried to ground herself in the comfort her conversations with Anthony gave her. She tried, with little success, not to focus on the warmth of his large hand resting on hers.
"Lady Whistledown has grown to acclaim in a way that I never could have dreamed of. I was certain that my earnings from the column were the only way I would be able to survive, what with my father's debts and a future of spinsterhood. I often convinced myself that this was necessary, and that I would not write this gossip column if there was another way. With each season, the barbs from the other debutantes were fewer and fewer. My frustration that was raging that first season has simmered and practically vanished." She reflected on how she had changed through the seasons.
"With so many scandals within my own home, the ton has many reasons to gossip about our family, and teasing me for my gowns or weight just wasn't as significant anymore. And I could not do anything because much of the gossip was true. My father did leave us in a precarious situation. I could neither address the gossip in my own column, or deny it."
"I could do nothing to change my family's image, and I continued ruining others. Each season there are new debutantes and I dread the way I will be expected to judge them as Lady Whistledown. All when they have never caused me any harm."
Anthony continued to hold her hand, and she took comfort in the way his strong fingers wrapped around her hand, gently squeezing her fingers, as if she could ignore the feeling of his skin touching hers. As if she needed a reminder that they were so incredibly close.
"I never set out to write a gossip column. I simply took the opportunity life presented me. And now, with the opportunity to become a wife, I do not have to worry about how I shall support myself as a spinster." Penelope looked off into the distance wistfully. She could put all of her worries for the future to rest as Anthony's wife.
"Penelope, I will always provide for you. You never need to do anything you do not want to again. I promise you." Anthony's jaw was set with determination. This was her champion. The hero in her story. Having considered for so long she would need to be her own hero, she was filled with relief.
"Thank you, Anthony." She smiled up at him, hoping he could see all of the admiration in her eyes. "The woman who has the honor of being your wife will be the luckiest young lady in the ton, and I am waiting for this dream to end, because that lucky young lady could not possibly be me."
Anthony's chest swelled at her compliment, and Penelope felt his other hand reach over as he pulled her hand closer. He held her hand in both of his, and her breathing truly did stop.
"Penelope, this is no dream, and you are the only woman I have any interest in marrying. For weeks, months even, I have thought of you as my family's angel. You have brought so much joy into our lives and I swear to you, I will spend the rest of mine attempting to give you even a portion of that joy in return."
Penelope's heart sank a little. He was so sincere. So dutiful to his family. He was marrying her out of some strange sense of repayment.
"Anthony, you do not owe me anything. Your family has always been so kind to me, and I adore them all. You do not need to marry me to clear some debt." Penelope tried to assure him, but her heart was breaking. He would not marry her now.
"Penelope, perhaps you did not hear clearly before. You are the only woman I have any interest in marrying." Anthony looked stern. "I thought I had made it clear that I am not here out of pity, and I am not courting you to help stir interest amongst the other gentlemen. I want to marry you, Penelope Featherington. And if I have not convinced you yet, I will certainly repeat the message with my next bouquet."
Penelope's jaw dropped. How could he be so angry and charming at the same time? She felt nervous but she also felt giddy. What on earth was he doing to her?
She had to get away. She had to put some distance between them. He was still holding her hand in both of his, as if he were pleading with her, and it was all too much.
She pulled her hand away and went to brush her dress, as if smoothing wrinkles that clearly were not there. "Perhaps you can ask Gregory for help. He does seem to be a bit of a romantic."
Anthony laughed whole heartedly, and just like that the tension between them was gone. Her heart was still fluttering, and she tried to breathe normally, but the seriousness had at least passed.
"It is a shame that Lady Whistledown will be retiring soon. Where else will the ton get to enjoy such wit?" Anthony smiled at her adoringly.
"Perhaps I will continue writing in a different manner. I have always dreamed I could write a novel. Maybe see my name among the books at the shop Eloise and I visit." She shook her head and waved off the thought as some silly dream.
"Penelope," Anthony reached for her hand again. "If you wish to write, I will support you. I imagine you would write an incredible novel. All these years of publishing as Lady Whistledown, and the success isn't solely because the ton loves to gossip. You are a clever writer. Your charm is why each issue is a success."
She blushed at his compliment.
"I am beyond relieved that you will not put yourself at risk as Lady Whistledown any further. But you have created this all on your own. Men like myself, we are handed everything. Even if I were to grow our estate or help all of my siblings settle, I will not have created anything myself. I have simply taken care of what was handed to me." She could see a bit of sadness in his eyes, mixed in with the awe. "But if I could help you as you create something new and wonderful, I would gladly oblige."
Penelope stared up at Anthony with wonder.
"Anthony Bridgerton, you are single handedly creating the most romantic courtship any young lady could dream of."
"Just wait until my next bouquet arrives." He waggled his eyebrows at her, and she couldn't help but laugh. How had everything changed so quickly?
