Testing Audio -DK Principessa

by kibass91

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37. His Muse

His Muse

Guineapig_Generation

Summary:

Colin and Eloise's comments at the Featherington Ball push Penelope a little too far. She sheds her meek debutant skin with a little help from wine and a lot of help from Benedict.

Penelope grabs her future with both hands and is unafraid of doing what is necessary to get what she wants.

Chapter 1: A Change

Chapter Text

"I would never dream of courting Penelope featherington"

Penelope was stunned, her heart pounding, she clutched at her chest desperately trying to stop the frantic thundering, the blood rushing in her ears was like a monsoon, she could feel her cheeks burning and tears welling in her eyes. The shame and misery and complete heartbreak ruined her, she wished the ground would swallow her or better yet she wishes she had allowed her mama to marry her of to a old rich man, she could have been a fantastically rich widow, the next Lady Danbury, right now instead of a young unmarried girl feeling more alone than she had ever felt in all of her years. Was she really so repulsive, so unsuitable? If only she had never met him. Gods, he had just declared her undesirable to half of the Tons' available bachelor's, she would never secure an advantageous match now. Would she get a match at all or had Colin singlehandedly reduced her options to 1? Independence was all she had left now, loneliness was all she had left now.

She pressed her palms into her cheeks hoping to press the redness back into her face and began to feel the trickles of tears leaking down her face and soak into her palms. She turned her back and leaned her head against the tree that she had been hiding behind. She scanned her surroundings to make sure that none of those men had noticed her eavesdropping and suddenly became aware of all the people in the garden, the eyes that might see her, that might mock her or worse, report back to her mother and sisters. What was she even doing here, in this garden, persuing a man that would rather court Cressida Cowper than her?

Penelope launched herself through the house. Using all of her skills as a wallflower to traverse the house unnoticed, ducking her head and hiding through shadows before lunging into a room that seemed far away enough that no scandalous couples or party haters would happen upon it. She shut the door gently hoping to disguise her presence and pressed her hands into her mouth, biting down on the fleshy palm of her hand. Soft screams filled with agony and rage escaped from the corner of her mouth as she stumbled across the room tumbling on to the couch in the centre of the room. She buried her head into one of the decorative cushions to muffle her loud, heaving sobs. She felt her chest heave and stutter and her over-tight corset cut into her under bust but she couldn't bring herself to care. The numbness that had started in her head when she had run from the garden had spread through her entire body and to her toes. She felt weak, not just physically but emotionally. How could she be so stupid? Her and Colin Bridgerton? She should have known that he of all people was out of her league. She was just so angry. So frustrated. So ... Pathetic. Gods she was wasn't she, just pathetic. She chased after him, stuttering, chattering, irritating.

She heaved herself to a sitting position and tilted her head back. Her eyes drifted closed giving her bloodshot eyes and swollen eyelids a little relief. Suddenly she was filled with rage. Who was he to tell her what she was worth? She was lady Whistledown! It was she who held the Ton in the palm of her hand! It was she to had earned enough money to escape a woman's fate! The Queen was obsessed with her. Not Eloise, not Colin, her.

"Exactly!" Penelope exclaimed quietly to the empty room as she burst into as quick back and forth pace. She thought about her circumstance, her past and future. What was there for her here? Family? Friends? Not a single one listened to her, truly listened and cared about her. She was exhausted of this life. Of trying so hard and getting so little in return.

"Hmm.." Penelope clutched the windowsill and leaned her body weight into her palms, the cool glass pressed against her forehead soothed the fire inside her. She overlooked the garden and the party and resolved herself. She would no longer belittle herself for anyone, not the mama's, not the public and for once in her life she felt the slightest bit optimistic about her future.

Penelope took a handkerchief from a drawer and delicately dipped it in a jug of cool water, gently she cleaned up her face in her reflection in the window. Ready to face the party again, Penelope turned determinately towards the door, not expecting to see a tall lean figure leaning against the door frame. He lifted his whiskey glass to his lips and drained the glass tossing it to the side where it landed heavily on a cushioned chair. As he swallowed she could see his throat move and the gesture froze her in her place. Part of her thought it was fear but the feeling in her gut told her otherwise.

"Penelope" The shadowed figure pushed himself upright and ducked slightly as he stepped into the room. She inhaled sharply as the window behind her illuminated the face of Benedict staring down at her with smoldering dark eyes filled with intent.

Chapter 2: Wine and Sex, A Winning Combination

Summary:

Penelope gets eaten out like she deserves

Notes:

Explicit scenes are new for me so be gentle folks.

Chapter Text

"Benedict?"

"Penelope."

"How- how long have you been there Ben?" Benedict let out a mocking sort of hum before stalking forward. Penelope stumbled back still dizzy from emotion.

"Oof" The wooden frame of the lounge sofa made a sore crack against her hip. She looked to either side searching for an escape but before she could find one Benedict's hot breath fanned across her face.

"Benedict, this is improper. We should, no, we must return to the party." Penelope couldn't bring herself to look up at him, frozen in place as Benedict's hands glided up and down her arms, fiddling with the hem of her sleeves before settling on her shoulders to rub little circles on her collarbones with his thumbs. Her arms no longer felt like her own and every brush of his thumb sent arousal pulsing through her body.

"But what's wrong Pen? You were crying, I- Colin couldn't bare you being this upset, none of us Bridgertons could. You've got us all a bit wrapped around your finger haven't you beautiful?" As Benedict rambled on Penelope finally looked up at his face, leaning back to get a proper look. The tinge of alcohol on his breath matched the slight flush of his face.

"If you don't feel like telling Colin or Eloise what's wrong, you can tell me Penelope. I won't tell them, or I will if that what you would prefer."

"No! No..." Penelope let out a deep sigh, "it's stupid, I'm stupid." She lowered her head and stared at Benedict's surprisingly muscular chest for a moment, pushing his hands away and ducking under them before slumping into the lounge. She fidgeted with her hair hoping it would disguise the slight tremor in her hands.

"Don't be sad." Ben cheered waving an unopened bottle of sweet wine in front of her face, he must have taken it from the drinks table much earlier and hid it in his vest for whatever reason. She arched to look at him as he leaned over the back of the couch and shot him a winning smile before snatching the wine, making quick work of the cork and downing about half of it. Ben took a seat next to her and nudged at her shoulder, she offered him the wine and watched him as he took a few gulps himself. They sat in an awkward silence sharing sips of wine and leaning against each other.

Maybe it was the wine or his comforting presence, ok it was definitely the wine, but she started talking and suddenly she couldn't stop and he made no move to stop her either. She ranted about Colin's cruel words, recounted her conversation with Eloise and confided in him about Lady Whistledown and he just watched her with those warm brown eyes the whole time. With no judgement to silence her opinions or opinions to interrupt her own she kept on pouring her heart out. How every word her mama said to her felt like a dagger in her heart and her sisters mocking churned her gut, how sometimes it felt like her father was the only family member who had ever loved and it broke her heart that it seemed like no one mourned him.

"I plan to leave, soon." Penelope finished, her mind already far away, "I have the money I've earned from the paper, Rose, my maid, has agreed to accompany me wherever I may go. I want to live Benny, to travel and explore. To have a chance to be myself, just for a moment." She had planned the life she could lead, the person she could be, if she was just given the chance but was interrupted by a strangled noise coming from Benedict.

"Leave? You can't- you shouldn't- I- just, do whatever makes you happy. I support you Pen. I guess if you're leaving soon I'll do what ever I can to help you."

"Should I Ben?" She turned to him with a teasing smirk, "you'll really do whatever it takes to make me happy?"

"Anything." Pen grabbed Benedicts expensive silk cravat and pulled his mouth onto hers. Their mouths met wetly, licking desperately at each other, saliva mixing together. Pen pulled back. What had she done? He didn't want her, she would never be able to face another Bridgerton again. A string of saliva still connected their mouths, she peered up at Benedict through her eyelashes looking for any kind of reaction, waiting for disgust. She wouldn't be able to bare it if Benedict hated her as well. She lifted her hand to wipe away the mess around her mouth but before she could he lunged at her.

"Gods Pen, the things you do to me." They met in a frenzy of passion, teeth clashing and moans only muffled by each other's mouths. She buried her hands in his soft curly hair and tugged, and the way Ben moaned and shifted against her made her grip harder and pull sharply. She watched him throw his head back and contort his face into a sinful display of arousal at the pain.

"You minx." He growled at her, the depth in his voice made her moist and yearning. She wanted to know what other names she could convince him to call her in that tone.

"Only," she moaned breathlessly, "only for you Ben." She pulled him closer as he mouthed at her jaw, nipped his way down her neck and sunk his teeth into her shoulder. He pushed himself to kneeling so he was straddling her hips and ran his arms up and down her torso, he looked overcome as he palmed and kneaded at her breasts rubbing those wicked little circles around her nipples. She thought for a second he would rip her dress off of her but all of a sudden she couldn't feel him at all. She was terrified he had left, that this had been a prank or maybe a trick. Just as the feeling of shame began to overwhelm her it was interrupted by hands strongly clasping her hip. She bent to see what Ben was doing and was swiftly knocked back when he easily lifted her lower half to rest her hips on the arm rest of the lounge sofa. He stood between her legs, looking down on her eagerly, like a dog with a bone, brown eyes black with promise. She heard the thud of his knees hitting the ground and the rustling of her dress but the sudden breeze around her upper thighs made her gasp. His pulled her drawers down to her ankles leaving burning trails in his wake. He braced himself on her bare thighs, giving the inside of her knee a hot, wet lick, she balled her dress skirt in her fists in anticipation. A sharp nip on the inside of her thigh revealed that Benedict was so much closer to her core than she had thought.

"Where are you, lovely? You should only be thinking of me." She heard him take a deep inhale as the tip of his nose rubbed up and down the crease of her thigh gliding gently to her hole. His nose brushed against her clit and the sensation was so intense she couldn't help but arch her back bumping her head against the other arm rest.

"Won't you scream for me sweetheart, I want to hear you." Pen couldn't choke back her shout as she felt his stiff tongue spear into her hole. His tongue flattened and licked her walls. She had never felt anything like this, she had heard, while pretending to be her own maid, about all the things a man could do to a woman and all the things a woman could do in return, she had even known, theoretically, how babies were made but no gossiping debutante or informative washer woman had said it would feel so good, so consuming, that she would want so much more.

His face was flush with her crotch and his tongue darted in and out of her hole in the same way a cock would, in the way she hoped his cock would. He slurped her wetness as it leaked out of her, it would have been a valiant attempt at cleaning her up if it didn't make her juices flood out of her. She could feel him pull away and was tempted to buck into him but he dove back in focusing on her pulsing clit. She felt him lick and suck and nip at her making her arch her back to the point of pain and thrust her hips desperately into his face. She was overwhelmed, overcome and so so hot before electricity pulsed from her core to the tips of her fingers and toes. They were illuminated by the colourful fireworks casting sharp shadows into the room. Each explosion punctuated her moans and disguised her scream. The soft sizzling noise that followed sank into her skin made her writhe. Her mind was blank and she was boneless and weak, relaxing her body and sinking into the lounge as she felt him give her kitten licks until she could properly breath again.

She hoisted herself back into a sitting position and looked at Benedict where he was still kneeling at the side of the lounge, his face soaked in her arousal. Silently offered him her handkerchief, he moved to stand in front of her, he toom the handkerchief from her gently and wiped his face clean but instead of offering to clean and return it he silently tucked it into the breast pocket of his vest.

"Well, little Pen, was it everything you wanted?"

"What happened to sweetheart?" She retorted, she had been going for sassy but failed to disguise the vulnerability in her voice. He took one of her hands in his and for a second she thought that this whole thing would end with an unfeeling kiss to the back of her hand, like they had just danced but he brought the inside of her wrist to his lips and just pressed it against them softly, intimately.

"Alright sweetheart. I'll be back tomorrow." But before Penelope could protest he had walked back into the hall with a jaunty little wave. Benedict had treated her like no one had before and had he just said he would court her? She was confused but she didn't have time to be confused. She straightened out her dress as best she could, repinned her hair and hoped she didn't smell too strongly of slick and sweat. Taking a deep breath leaning against the wall, she turned the door handle and stepped out the dark room and into the light.

Chapter 3: Benedict's Inspiration

Summary:

Ben's pov

Chapter Text

Benedict stood tucked into a corner with a finger of whiskey, his third of the night, giving him a pleasant buzz. He watched as Antony danced incredibly intimately with a miss Kate Sharma, his mother gave him a loaded look so he scooped up an unopened bottle of wine he had stashed away earlier. No matter what his mother said he was not joining the marriage mart next year. It was ironic however, that the least romantic of his siblings had fallen in love so completely. At least Eloise believed in the idea of true love. Where was Eloise anyway?

He scanned the room for Penelope as he had found himself doing increasingly often this season, she was looking rather fetching in another yellow dress but she had looked better in pink, he was itching to change her wardrobe. The entire family was just waiting for Colin to make a move, their mother had already planned the engagement and wedding.

Benedict was tired of this party and moved around the room hoping to track down Eloise who seemed mysteriously absent, getting her drunk would be much more interesting and maybe that would soothe the hurt of finding out Antony has bought his place at the academy. He stopped short of his mission to watch gobsmacked as Colin danced with Cressida Cowper, he did not want to know how Penelope was reacting to this, or his mother. Penelope had clearly had enough considering Colin danced his next set with her and they seemed to be having quite the discussion. Several people, including him, watched with some bewilderment as Colin led Penelope into an empty room and was promptly followed by Lord and Lady Featherington and oddly enough, Cressida Cowper. As they emerged Benedict pushed himself off the wall and followed Penelope and Colin out into the garden.

Suddenly, Penelope ran by, red faced and sobbing. He locked eyes with Antony and gestured for him to stay, pursuing Penelope himself. He followed her as she weaved through hallways and stopped just short of following her into the room.

She was enchanting. The moonlight turned her hair into a mane of fire and her skin glitter like diamonds. The silver glow pouring in from the window made her yellow dress shine, glowing blue, Bridgerton blue. She had just inspired him, she was a vision and he felt drawn to her, this version of her. He wished he had is paints, maybe he didn't need to drop out of art school after all, with her in front of him he was sure he could master any medium just trying to do her justice.

He watched her face cycle through emotions and smiled to himself, Penelope had always been so wonderfully expressive and the pacing and muttering was adorable if not concerning. He leaned his shoulder against the doorway and took a sip of his whiskey waiting for Penelope to finish.

"Penelope"

"Benedict?" He drained his glass and threw it aside so that both his hands were free to cage her to the back of the lounge behind her. He ran his hands up and down her arms feeling her luxurious soft skin. He wanted to run his fingers through her hair, cup her flushed face, but he restrained himself. Grasping her shoulders he gently grazed her collarbones with his thumbs before she retracted herself from his grasp. He briefly thought about pulling her back into his arms but didn't want to make her uncomfortable.

He pulled out his pilfered bottle wine and earned a beauteous smile. They sat side by side, leaning against each other, sipping wine as she poured her heart out to him.

"I plan to leave, soon." His stomach dropped. He was panicking, she couldn't leave, he thought he might fall apart if she did.

"You can't - you shouldn't," he couldn't stop her. She was Colin's wasn't she, he would never be allowed to have her, "just, do whatever makes you happy. I support you Pen. I guess if you're leaving soon I'll do what ever I can to help you."

She answered with a breathtaking cheeky smirk.

"Anything." He vowed. She crashed her face into his and his mind blanked. He felt a profound sense of loss when she retreated and raked her body hungrily.

"Gods Pen, the things you do to me." He pinned her to the lounge on her back and pressed his entire body against hers, groaning at the feeling of her hot skin and voluptuous curves. He couldn't get enough of her, he needed more and he would take as much as she would give him. Her hands gripped his hair and pulled sharply, electricity sparking down his spine and making him harder than he thought possible. He growled at her, watching as her eyes fluttered shut and her mouth open to let out an erotic moan.

He moved down her body and knelt in between her legs, gripping her hips hard enough to bruise. He pawed at her skirts, pushing them aside as quickly as he could, squeezing and licking her legs. He worshiped her thighs and hoped that she would let him spend the rest of her life between her legs. He wanted to consume her, thrusting his tongue into her as deeply as possible, moaning at the sweetness of her taste and softness of her pussy walls. He pushed her to orgasm just as fireworks lit up the room. The light of the fireworks cast colourful shadows across her provocative body, the arch of her back, the tension in her face, he could have climaxed from the image alone. He cleaned her up, holding her until she was more present.

"Well, little Pen, was it everything you wanted?" He felt unbelievably smug that he had made her so disheveled.

"What happened to sweetheart?" She might as well have asked him for more and he definitely wouldn't be turning her away. He cleaned himself up using her handkerchief and tucked it into his waistcoat, a momento of a good time, deciding to leave before his family started a search party for him.

"Alright sweetheart. I'll be back tomorrow." He practically bounced out of the room. He couldn't wait.

Chapter 4: First Dates

Summary:

The beginning of a most anticipated courting.

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Benedict woke up at dawn and rushed to the attic still dressed in his night clothes, no doubt scandalising several servants in the process. He threw open the curtains and prepped a canvas, a small one so he could finish it quickly. He sat on a stool with his eyes closed, trying to remember pass the alcoholic haze, the exact colours that Penelope bathed in the night before. He moved on instinct, brushing the flow of her skirt and the swirl of her hair. Painted layer and layer of colour to properly reflect the deep shadows of the room and the glow of her skin. He held the drying painting to the light of the rising sun and sighed, he would see her again today, memorise a million other details and try again.

...

Penelope woke up with the sun streaming across her face, she tossed and turned, a silk pillow clutched to her chest, little giggles escaping her tightly pressed lips. She was careful not to let much noise escape lest she wake anyone else in the house. Rose quietly entered her room with a breakfast tray and Penelope sat up to delicately take the cup of tea. She placed the tray at her bedside and perched on the foot of her bed, raising an eye questioningly as Penelope smiled uncontrollably widely into her teacup. They shared a conspiring smile and Rose gave an eager nod. The preparations were complete and today everything would change.

...

He returned to his bedroom, hands speckled with paint and called in the maids to draw a hot bath. He couldn't afford to be less than perfect for his courtship with Penelope this morning. He would be careful to scrub away every flake of paint and wash off the smell of turpentine, he couldn't afford to smell unpleasant if he wanted to get that close to Penelope again. As the maids brought in the tub and boiled the water Benedict rummaged through his wardrobe tossing aside anything he considered substandard, he could only wear his finest pieces. He pulled out several waistcoats in different shades of red, laying each side by side on his bed, turning back to his wardrobe to do the same thing again to his shirts. As he moved to sort through his collection of cravats he heard a loud sigh behind him. Benedict whipped around to see the maids collecting his discarded clothing, he carted his hands through his hair and smiled sheepishly at them.

...

Penelope knelt on the ground as she carefully lifted the loose floor boards where she hid her most precious items, she glanced back at Rose who was guarding the door. Pulling out a sizable chest, she quickly replaced the panels, smoothing the floor to hide any indication of their removal. Together they lifted the chest onto the bed and opened it. The contents practically glowed. They laid out the dress and jewelry set, the only items that Penelope had ever purchased for herself. The dress was silk, yellow, so that it wouldn't look out of place in her wardrobe, but for her Madam Delacroix had fashioned it out of dark gold fabric that glittered when it caught the light. The dress was plain but looked just as luxurious as it felt, accompanied by a string of pearls and matching earrings, Penelope's breath caught slightly at the thought of wearing this outfit. This outfit was never supposed to be worn. She had originally commissioned this ridiculously expensive outfit as a way move her funds more inconspicuously, so she wouldn't be holding so much coin. Shaking, she held it up against herself in front of the mirror, today marks a change in her future, in her life.

...

Maybe he would stop by a flower shop, no, a jewelers. What did one get the perfect woman? Perhaps he would have a tiara made for her, so he could paint her in it but that seemed a little excessive for the start of a courting, not taking to account the amount of time it would take to have it made. Maybe he would propose with one. He had to refrain from pulling out his sketch book and designing one for her now, he dreamed of adorning her in as much gold as he could afford. Snapping himself out of fantasies of her peach skin complimented by the soft yellow metal, he had to be realistic. For today he would fetch flowers and have tea with her, if he were lucky she would agree to promenade later.

...

Rose just finished gathering all of the bottles and jars for her bath, lavender, just as Penelope had asked of her. Lavender was Benedict's favourite, she remembered, it was one of the few scents that overpowered the scent of oil paint. Penelope slowly lowered herself into the steaming bath, luxuriating in the rich scents of soap and powder. Her eyes drooped closed and her head fell back as Rose oiled and lathered her hair. She scrubbed herself clean as her curls were carefully separated and brushed. Stepping out of the bath once the water had cooled, Penelope prepared for the next few hours of getting ready.

...

He lay in the hot bath soaking in the warm bath and palmed his groin as he planned all of the filthy things he could whisper in her ear as they promenaded together. How he could place his hand low on her hip and tuck his head under her ear and ask her to describe exactly what she wanted him to do to her. He would guide her through the whole of Hyde Park arm in arm, making sure she knew how proud he was to have her by his side. Of course she would have to hold him back from fighting the idiotic boys that Colin had been speaking with but it was no matter, he would fight for her honor without regret.

...

Penelope blew out hard as her corset was tightened as far as she could take it. She straightened and grimaced as the whalebone dug into her hips and the underside of her breasts but the slimmer figure it gave her soothed her insecurities just slightly. Slipping into her golden dress she ran her hands along the white ribbon that highlighted her waist, no more than an inch further down that what was appropriate but the difference it made to her look was staggering. Her hair was half pulled back half down in a gentle cascade of curls, several ringlets framed her face softening her features. A small pearl pin was placed in her hair as her face was adorned with a light blush and rosy lip colour. She was ready.

...

His face was freshly shaved, and his hair was properly styled and brushed back in a way he knew highlighted he sharp jaw. The white silk shirt, red waistcoat and black linen trousers were cleaned and pressed for him and he donned them gently so not to wrinkle them. Slipping on his freshly shined shoes, he examined himself in the mirror. He wished Daphne still lived here so he could consult her, none of his other sisters would advise him without mocking him before and after and that's if he trusted any of their opinions on the topic. Perhaps he would ask Antony, no, he should leave for the flower shop early to collect Lilies, they were Pen's favourite and he would not stand for the shop to have run out before his arrival.

...

Penelope was ready, she floated through the hallways and into the sitting room where her mother and sisters were already prepared for courting visits. Her mother scolded her for being late but Penelope could not bring herself to care for the criticism, this would be her day and nobody could ruin it for her. Her sisters eyed her outfit with clear jealousy but did not want to bring attention to Penelope's clearly newer and more expensive dress, not when suitors might be by. She scanned the room and chose an armchair in the corner that had a clear view of the hallway through the door, she opened a book like she usually did and hid her smile behind it. When Benedict walked through those doors she would prove her mother and sisters wrong. She would be waiting.

...

He strode down the stairs calling the Coachman and pulling on his coat. Impatiently checking his watch, Benedict considered going to the Featherington house without the flowers, it was already passed ten o'clock, he was already late.

"Ben!" Antony called from his study, ushering Benedict in. The door shut behind them.

...

Phillipa had left in a state, her suitor had came, broken up with her and gone, citing the scandal and debt as being too much for him to handle. Penelope sat in place until dinner, feigning a fixation on her book to skip lunch. In reality it was the mortification churning in her gut that made her turn away from the meal. It wasn't until Rose, who had been tasked with keeping watch, informed her that the lights in Bridgerton house had gone out that she shifted from her place and retreated to her bedroom. She was numb.

.

.

.

.

.

He hadn't come.

Notes:

Lmao sike!

Chapter 5: Stages Of Anger

Summary:

Penelope has been betrayed and she won't stand for it.

Chapter Text

Benedict appeared the next day but Penelope had the maids turn him away at the door before her mother saw him. Her mother would never turn Ben away, if anything she could expect to be dragged out of bed to entertain a Bridgerton, she thought ruefully. She hid under the sheets, muffling another harsh sob, the thought of seeing him made her sick to her stomach. Penelope hadn't even bothered getting out of bed. She had sobbed all through the night, not getting a wink of sleep. Her face was puffy and her voice hoarse, she hasn't even needed to feign being ill for her mother to relegate her to seclusion in bed. Rose had spend a good deal of the evening and all morning holding her hand at her bedside and attempting to coax her into eating. She felt wretched, sore, sick, boneless, exhausted and more.

"Why?" Penelope croaked. Her eyes stared blankly into the ceiling, as if the answers would be written in the stars.

"Miss!" Rose hand froze from stroking her hair. A hand lifted the back of her head as a cool glass of water was brought to her mouth. Penelope took little sips.

"Why did I trust him? I should have known better!"

"You couldn't have known miss! Mr Bridgerton has never been anything but sincere."

"Leave me be, Rose."

"But miss."

"Please." She wanted to be alone for her tragedy, to wallow in solitude.

Benedict returned again the next day and once again the maids sent him away. It seemed to her that half the house had been rallied to her protection, that they had unionized under the idea of keeping Benedict from approaching her. The care of the people who had raised her warmed her heart but it didn't make her feel any better. Why had Benedict promised to visit her if he hadn't intended to come? Even if he didn't want to court he could have at least appeared, sent a footman or even a letter in his stead. Or he could have, like a respectable gentleman, not gotten her hopes up in such a manner. Was this revenge for what she had written about Eloise? She had known that Eloise would be unable to understand her choices but she thought Benedict would see the wisdom in her decision. Perhaps this was some contrived plot concocted by Benedict and Colin to humiliate her. No matter what reasoning Benedict had, it seemed that this had been a cruel prank. Oh, she would never be able to leave the house, not any more, she was sure that their escapade was being told around all of the popular bars and clubs in town. She was ruined. He had surely succeeded in his plan to disgrace her and had likely done so with haste when he had heard of her plan to leave soon.

"Ugh." Penelope groaned, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes hard enough to see lights, "Why me?" She cried crumbing to the ground once again.

The day after, Rose handed Penelope a letter. She knew who it was from and the knowledge haunted her from the dresser table but she wasn't upset or depressed anymore, she was furious. She did not deserve this, this prank. No! She would ruin him, in her paper, in public, she would burn the Bridgerton name into the ground! But she couldn't do that. Not to Hyacinth and Gregory, who had had no part in these brutal games, and certainly not to Antony, who had always treated her as a younger sister, protecting her and defending her. Her pillows hit the far wall with an irritatingly soft flop. Penelope was still angry but she stopped just short of punching the wall and shattering glassware. She would not let them do this to her! She would go out with her head held high, unaffected, she would be the pinnacle of grace and elegance. She would seduce Benedict with her charm before leaving, never to be seen again and breaking his heart like he had broke hers. No! She would give him the cold shoulder! God, she didn't know what to do, only that it should break Benedict Bridgerton.

She was gifted a few days of peace until a tapping woke her from a light and anxious sleep. She rose to a dazed state and threw open the window, ceasing the tapping. At the foot of her bedroom window stood Benedict with a stupidly pleased grin on his face and puddle of small stones at his feet.

"What. Are. You. Doing?"

"Getting your attention"

"Well stop it." Penelope hissed. She glared down at Benedict and his make shift slingshot.

"But-"

"And why are you filthy?"

"I- well-"

"Actually, I don't care. Leave."

"But Penelope, princess - "

"LEAVE!" Penelope screeched. She jumped back, surprised at the volume and terrified of the disturbance she might have created on such a silent night. Penelope was just about to apologize when a kitchen maid chased Benedict off the Featherington property with a tea towel. It temporarily balmed Penelope's vengeful soul to watch Benedict Bridgerton, terrified, being whipped with a cloth by a maid. She, with much more care, re-latched the window and fell backwards onto her bed. She let out a loud groan. Just looking at his face made her crumble, no, she must remain strong. He had betrayed her. He was cruel, unfeeling and had taken advantage of her heightened emotional state and he would do so again without remorse. Rose, in her nightgown and mussed up hair, threw herself at Penelope and squeezed her tight.

"Oh miss, are you alright?"

"I'm fine. Oh, who am I kidding, I'm not. I feel wretched."

"Why don't you talk to him?"

"Talk to him!"

"Just hear him out, if anything he'll leave you alone afterwards." Her maid's maturity was so frustrating sometimes.

"I can't promise I won't hit him." Penelope mumbled wetly.

"And I would never ask you to." They tearfully separated and Rose quickly rushed back to her bedroom. Penelope suddenly felt so lonely. The emptiness of her arms made her feel so cold and all of the anger and frustration and betrayal drained out of her, she fell into a fitful sleep. Her restlessness lasted till morning.

It was another two days later that she heard suspicious noises coming from beneath her window. With a cautious step, she opened her window and peered into the night.

"Benedict?" Penelope called out quietly and sure enough, there he was. He was half way up the side of the house, scaling the ivy, his eyes widened when he saw her and he reached up to her. The ivy snapped and he fell to the ground, hard. Good Gods, the moron must have broken something. She threw on a robe and rushed down the stairs to help him.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" As she approached the backyard through the kitchen entrance she could hear him swear furiously, by the time she had reached him he had already pulled himself to his feet and brushed the grass off his backside.

"Penelope, my love."

"Are you alright?"

"Pen-"

"Are. You. Ok?"

"Yes, Pen but -"

"If you do not require a doctor then you may go."

"Penelope you must understand." Benedict was pleading, his big blue eyes watered just looking at her.

"Oh, I must, must I?" Penelope's fury was reignited. How dare he? How Dare He! How dare he, humiliate her, harass her and now he demanded things of her! He had no right, no right at all!

"You," Penelope spit out at him, "Benedict Bridgerton, will leave my garden, leave my house and most importantly, leave me alone." She marched up to him, incandescent with rage and poked him hard in his chest with her finger.

"You're so pretty when you're angry." He whispered sweetly, like they were lovers meeting secretly in the night. Penelope responded with a scream of frustration.

"Penelope," Benedict began again, this time falling to his knees and cupping her face with both hands, "let me explain and if you never want to see me again you won't." She almost melted into his arms, it was all she wanted, he looked more than willing to just hold her and chase away all of the anger she had pent up within her but she stopped. She stepped back, crossing her arms and looked at him.

"Go on then." She eyed him with distain but he made no move to rise from kneeling in front of her.

"It's Eloise," Benedict said gravely, "she's missing."

Chapter 6: The Search

Summary:

Where is Eloise?

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"Ben!" Antony called from his study, ushering Benedict in. The door shut behind them. Benedict stepped into Anthony's study and took the seat opposite him.

"How was Pen, She seemed so distraught?"

"I spoke to her, there seems to have been some conflict with Eloise and Colin and she might distance herself from us for a while."

"How distressing. Penelope is like family, like a younger sister, do you think me talking to her would help?"

"Well, actually..."

"Is there something else the matter, Ben?"

" I don't consider Pen a younger sister at all Antony"

" How could you not? We grew up together, she's practically Eloise's twin!"

"I, well Antony- I want to court her." "Who?" "Penelope." Benedict looked down at Anthony's desk, fidgeting with the clutter on it. " I think I love her."

"But she's been in love with Colin for years, they're practically slated for each other."

"Not anymore! I promise I would never do anything to hurt Colin-" Benedict rushed out.

"I know Benedict, calm yourself, I'm just warning you that there's no point in pursuing a woman who is in love with someone else." Antony barked out a laugh, "I would know."

"Penelope is leaving. She said after all of this season's drama, she cannot stand it here and I don't know what Colin said but she is no longer in love with him. Please Antony allow me this one thing. If I can not convince her she will leave London and I will never see her again, we will never see her again."

"Benedict, please. There is no need to beg, if you love her and she returns your favor then there is only one issue that must be addressed-" A scream pierced the still morning air.

"Sir!" A maid slammed the door open.

"What!" Antony jumped in surprise and confusion, he stood ready to scold the girl.

"It's Eloise, sir!" The maid was on the edge of sobbing and out of the corner of his eye Benedict watched Antony freeze. All the blood drained from Anthony's face and his hands trembled. Benedict quicky lowered him back down into his desk chair.

"Tell me everything!" Benedict commanded.

"Eloise, sir, no one has seen her since last evening. We thought that she might have stayed at the Featheringtons with Miss Penelope as she is ought to do, we expected her to climb into her window as she normally does.

" Excuse me?" Thundered Antony, " why did I not -"

"Continue." Interrupted Benedict.

"But when I went to wake her this morning she wasn't there. I called on a Featherington maid who informed me that Eloise had not spent the night there either. I informed the head maid who told the butler who went to Lady Bridgerton for instruction and i am here to take your orders, sir." Antony and Benedict locked eyes, conveying a mutual sense of panic.

"Go to the Danbury household," said Benedict, "summon Kate Sharma."

"Don't." Protested Antony, Benedict put one of his hands over Anthony's trembling one.

"You cannot function like this, Antony, let alone command a search party. You need her." Antony nodded to the maid and she rushed off. Benedict tore through the house reaching the dining room just in time to catch his mother before she fell to her knees.

"Mother? Mother please!" He shook her and she fell limp in his arms. Just as she had been in the months following their father's death. He put an arm under her knees and carried her, gently laying her on a lounge in the sitting room.

"Watch her." He snapped at a maid, carefully placing a blanket over his mother. He stormed out of the room almost barreling over a very confused Kate.

"What is all of the commotion about?"

"Go to Anthony's study and keep him from being stupid."

"Benedict, what is going on?"

"Just do it, please." Benedict sighed, rubbing his temples "I'll explain later." Kate gave a stiff nod, and placed a warm hand on his shoulder.

" Is there anything else you need?"

"No, just- take care of him." Benedict turned to the servants in the hall, everyone, maids, kitchen hands and even the coachmen had gathered to find Eloise. He took a deep, calming breath before calling out his orders.

" Lord Bridgerton is currently indisposed and so I will be in charge of the search, nobody other than those loyal to us is to know that Eloise is unprotected." He watched all of them nod in understanding. "Send a footman to visit the printers boy, they may have run away together. Send a maid to Daphne and instruct her to send a maid to Clyvedon Castle, she may have fled there and in that vein, send someone to Aubrey Hall. I want people discretely visiting all of Eloise's favourite shops and café's, troll bookstores and print shops. Put out feelers to maids in other residences, I want to know if there were any young men who might have been acting out of sorts yesterday that haven't returned today, I will not allow my sister to be compromised and forced into marriage. Well? Go! Get on with it!" He watched the people disperse and went weak. He slowly slid down the wall, his fall broken by the butler catching him by the elbow. The pounding in his head intensified.

Benedict pushed himself up and made his way back to Anthony's office, commandeering the space. He gave a gracious nod to Kate as she half carried half dragged Antony to his bedroom to recover. Benedict started writing letters, to all of his friends, people who he and Antony had met in Eton and Oxford, people who lived in the city and had known Eloise since she was a baby, they would help him find her. They had to. He penned a dozen letters as maids and footmen came in and out of the office, returning with no news or any leads as to her whereabouts. He threw down his pen in frustration and massaged his temples.

"How are you doing?" Kate knocked on the door with a dinner tray in hand.

"How do you think?" Benedict snarled at her. Kate let out a heavy sign, setting the tray down in front of him. She quickly straightened up the desk, picking up papers that had been haphazardly disregarded and documents that he had swept onto the floor in an earlier fit of rage.

"I-" Benedict cleared his throat "I need a moment to myself." He stumbled out from behind the desk, nearly tripping as he passed her. He ran. Sprinting though the uncleaned hallways of Bridgerton house, practically knocking over several servants. He fell to his hands and knees in the back garden, vomiting into the grass. He steadied himself on the swing that he and Eloise used to have their late night conversations on. He nearly vomited again. Suddenly, he remembered a snuff box that Eloise used to keep partially buried by the base of the tree. He pawed at the dirt and pulled open the lid, bending down to take a line of tobacco. He was on his knees and elbows in the dirt, hands shaking, trying to steady himself enough to make another line. Then he spotted it. A glimpse of hair under the bushes. Brown hair. The shine of blue reflecting off the leaves.

Eloise.

Benedict yelled wordlessly at the top of his lungs and dove into the undergrowth. He took no notice of the back door slamming open hard enough to rattle the frame as he hooked his arms under Eloise's and pulled. One of the footmen wrapped his arms around Benedicts waist and pulled with him. Once half of Eloise had emerged, maids grabbed her body and, much more gently, tugged Eloise out from under the bush. They stood around Eloise's prone body. She was unconscious and had her arms wrapped around a bottle of scotch, her face was puffy as if she had cried seeming otherwise untouched but her arms and legs were covered is scratches and bruises. He kneeled beside her, wiggling the bottle out of her arms and lightly brushed the hair off her face. He heard Antony before he saw him. Benedict was frozen to his spot as Antony cradled Eloise's body to his chest, sobbing into her hair with Kate's hands kneading Anthony's shoulders.

Colin, who he had sent out earlier to make appearances on their behalf, cleared the area. He sent maids to prepare a bath and fresh clothes for them all, coachmen to fetch a doctor and sent the kitchen staff back to the kitchen to prepare dinner. Colin then guided him to the sitting room where he lay limply on the couch, eyeing his mother's catatonic figure. Benedict gingerly stood and shook his mother awake.

"We've found her, mother. She's in her room now. Go see her." He watched as his mother was led up the stairs, hand in hand with maid, likely planning to sleep by Eloise's side. His head fell back against the armchair and he just stared blankly again and ceiling. He seemed to drift in and out of consciousness until Colin brought him back.

"The doctors been by. The alcohol wasn't tampered with, there are no drugs in her system and she's not been assaulted in any way. She's fine Benedict. Completely fine. Would you like dinner or shall I take you to bed?"

"Dinner?" Benedict questioned, bewildered.

"Dinner."

"What time is it?"

"It's just passed 11 at night Benedict, you should go to sleep."

"11?" Benedict yelped, jumping up to examine the grandfather clock on the far side of the room.

"Fuck." Benedict groaned sliding onto the floor. Pen was going to kill him.

...

Penelope threw her arms around Benedict in a tight hug.

"Oh, Ben." She sighed pulling him closer, the emotions of the previous week having weakened her. It was in that moment that Benedict wrapped his arms around her, fisting the back of her nightdress, trembling slightly. She felt his face press deeply into her shoulder before he let out a full body tremor, and another, and another and soon he was noiselessly sobbing in her arms.

"I was so scared, Pen."

"I know." " What if we hadn't found her? It would be my fault, that I didn't do enough, that I wasn't capable enough."

"Stop that Ben, you found her, not Antony, not Colin, you." She had never felt so heartless, scorning him when he was in so much pain. "I have nightmares, Penelope, of all the things that might have happened to her. Out there at night, she had no one to protect her, no one-"

"But she is safe, Benedict." She looked sincerely into his eyes, trying to convey a more soulful sense of comfort.

"May I court you tomorrow, Penelope?" She hesitated. While she had heard his explanation and she believed him, the feeling of betrayal had not been so easily cleansed. She looked into his deep, sorrowful eyes and felt him hold his breath.

"No."

"Of course, Penelope. I suppose this will be our last meeting." He rushed out, standing and pulling her to standing as well. He bent to collect his jacket when she caught his arm.

"Wait, Ben, come by next week instead. I would like that- I mean- it would be my pleasure- please court me. I would really really like that." Even the brisk night air couldn't chill the hot blush that rose to her cheeks. "It's just, I want to look good, my best really." Her stumbling was so embarrassing, she couldn't be more mortified. "And I will look my best on Monday, of next week, so come next week, ok?" Her eyes flickered up to his face and she softened and the open look of fondness. He took both of her hands in his.

"Monday, then, my love." And just like their first night he pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of her wrist and disappeared into the night. She snuck the abandoned jacket back up to her bedroom and crawled back under the bed covers, exhausted from the emotional toil and shivering from the cold breeze outside. Under the blankets she buried her face in Benedict's jacket and the faint scent of him that lingered lulled her into a sleep more peaceful than she had had in a long time.

Notes:

This could have been cute Sherlock and Watson style thing but no, it's just Eloise being a little stupid. Also Buckingham Palace is right in the middle of Mayfair, I feel like it would be so difficult to go missing in that area. Imagine 100 queens guard in a single area of London playing hide and seek with an 18 year old girl.

Chapter 7: Try, Try Again

Notes:

Sorry for the long wait, I do all my writing at the gym and Ramadan has me fucked up.

Chapter Text

Penelopes light footed dance down the stairs was uncharacteristic of her especially on a day like today. A weekday morning was generally set aside for visits and Penelope, who had never had a visitor normally dreaded such mornings. She supposed a part of her was subdued, after all, she had been just as excited last time and she'd had nothing but disappointment but Benedict had seemed so earnest and she couldn't bare to doubt him at all.

She hopped off the last step and brushed off the scolding from her mother for the childish behavior as well as the scowl at the old dress, if mama were able to buy new dresses she would have but until then they were resigned to hoping no suitor would recognize the dresses that were several years old now. It didn't bother Penelope at all, she had never had the luxury to care for the fashion trends, after all with her size she knew people would look at her the same regardless. Penelope was thinking along this line as she entered the drawing room.

" Ow!" Penelope exclaimed as her nose hit Prudence's shoulder with some force. "What are you doing?" She hissed

"There's flowers."

"What?" Exclaimed her mama, as she turned warmly to Phillipa, Phillipa looked so excited.

"Mama! He's returned! I knew his parents would understand that we are a true love match!"

"Phillipa." Penelope said beseechingly, she so hoped they were from Albion, she would never want to cause such strife in her favourite sister.

Her mother shushed her and quickly arranged the room so that Phillipa would have the best light. Penelope watched Prudence scan the note in the large bouquet of red roses and frown before tucking the paper back into the flowers so they were hidden. She now desperately wanted to know what Benedict had written that could cause such a reaction, it certainly wasn't either of their names or there would have been a sharp look in her direction. She was just about to start her investigation when there was a rapping at the door. As every head turned towards the direction of the front door in anticipation Rose gave her a sharp nod from just behind the door frame. Penelope straightened her back and dusted her dress, steeling herself for the inevitable. When she looked up, there he was, tall Benedict Bridgerton taking up all of the space in the door frame, dark eyes focused on only her and a familiar singe dark red rose in his hand.

"Mr Bridgerton!" Exclaimed her mother, failing to sound unflustered. "I'm afraid we're rather busy this morning and your sister will just have to wait until after morning greeting today."

"Then it's a good thing I'm not here for that then isn't it?" Benedict responded sharply to everyone's shock, even Penelope's, he was notorious for his lightheartedness and she doubted he had ever been so assertive in public before. She looked away from where his eyes were boring into hers with a light blush. No one had so blatantly defended her before, ever.

"I - well-" she had never seen her mama stutter to much either, if Benedict hadn't been a Bridgerton he would be getting such an earful.

"Mr Bridgerton, have you been properly introduced to my eldest Prudence?" Penelopes head whipped around to look incredulously at her mother, she glanced at Prudence whose scrunched look of confusion quicky morphed into smug superiority.

Mr Bridgerton." Prudence greeted with a deep curtsy that Penelope knew she had practiced to be just so so that a gentleman would get a good eyeful of her cleavage. Penelope didn't know whether to laugh, cry or scream. Clutching her hands together in her lap, she looked studiously at the carpet muddling through the tempestuous emotions, not wanting Benedict to see her in such a state after all the hardship she had put him through last week.The silence was palpable as Benedict failed to even acknowledge Prudence's greeting, a soft finger tilted her chin up as she lifted her gaze to search Benedict's face for any regret but only found fury etched into the lines around his eyes. His other hand clutched a rose so tightly the stem had snapped in half.

"Oh, it seems that I've broken your rose." Benedict said, his voice as tight as his face. He took a deep breath relaxing his entire body,

"No matter." In one swift movement he moved her hair aside and touched the rose behind her ear, "Perfect" He declared as if nothing has been wrong in the first place. She put her hand over his and leaned her cheek into his palm, looking into his eyes, silently giving him permission to leave, to give up this already tumultuous relationship for something easier, better. Instead he reached out his other hand, taking her free one and dusted a long delicate kiss on the crest of her knuckles.

A sharp cough broke them out of their revere and Benedict slowly backed into the chair opposite her couch, his eyes never straying from her at any point.

"So mister Bridgerton, what is it you're doing here?" All of them collectively looked at her mother incredulously this time. Had their display not been enough, she had been sure that their mother was going to scold her on their impropriety, their intemecy had been far beyond appropriate and even that hadn't convinced her mother that she was desirable. Did she think that Penelope was aspiring to be Benedict's mistress?

"I'm here to court Penelope, Lady Featherington." Benedict said, full of challenge. He almost looked ready to duel for her honour Penelope thought in amusement.

"Benedict." Penelope pleaded softly giving him a gentle shake of her head. Ignoring the slight gasps from her sisters she gently stroked the soft petals of the rose at her ears and watched him physically give in to her pleas. She squared her shoulders and gave Benedict a cheeky smile

"So what can I do for you today Mr Bridgerton?"

"Now Pen, don't make me take you home right here right now." His bright smile made his face look charmingly young but the darkness in his voice spoke of true intent. She fanned her face with her hand.

"Oh Mr Bridgerton, how inappropriate." She shot right back mockingly. Even with Colin she had never dared to be so brazen. They were leaning towards each other as if even the short distance between them was too far.

"Me, Penelope?" he returned, just as mocking, he moved and quicker than anyone could stop him he sat next to her, so close their thighs were pressed together,

"I would never be anything but the perfect gentleman." She could feel his breath fan against her face with word and she went slack jawed at his sheer boldness. Her silence was all he needed to know he had won.

"I'll see you soon little love." Benedict said, leaning in so close she was sure he was going to kiss her right there and then but instead he showed himself out, only stopping at the front door to give a jaunty little bow to the rest of her family before leaving just as suddenly as he came. As Penelopes heart calmed to a functional rate, she became aware of the wide eyed states of her family

"So... Mama..."

Chapter 8: Decisions, Decisions...

Summary:

After an explosive first date Penelope and Benedict meet again a the park and find hiding their passion for each other much more difficult than anticipated (not that they try very hard). Penelope solidifies her plans and Benedict interferes just how fate intended.

Notes:

I thought I would publish the last 5 chapters all at once but completely failed to write them all so please accept this mediocre chapter and my apologies for my neglect.

Chapter Text

The next time Penelope saw Benedict they were at Hyde Park.

The Bridgertons, as usual, were a commanding presence, perhaps it was the sheer number of them or maybe it was their radiant perfection but Penelope could tell otherwise. She'd spent so much time with them she could see the fissures of individual emotions. Benedict glee upon seeing her was clear as day on his face, Kate's polite amusement wasn't much hidden either as she walked arm in arm with Antony radiating brotherly mocking. Penelope couldn't deny that her face may have been mirroring Benedict's just slightly, she wouldn't deny that seeing him didn't refresh and sooth her, like a cool lemonade in the summer sun. The growing sunny atmosphere was cracked twofold by the emergence of Eloise from their midst and then by the sharp elbow she got from her mother. Mama whispered something in her ear but all she could hear was white noise as Eloise interacted sluggishly with her brothers, leaning heavily on Colin. While Benedict knew her secret she hadn't considered that Eloise or even Benedict might tell their family and that their family might tell her family before she had her chance to get away.

"Penelope!" Prudence whispered harshly in her ear as her mother's attempts to gain her attention repeatedly failed.

"What?" Penelope responded in kind as prudence blatantly pointed at Benedict before mama had the chance to stop her. Their eyes met for a moment as Penelope burst into a fierce blush. She whipped her head to the ground trying desperately to massage the ruddiness out of her cheeks, realising both families has come to a dead stop in the middle of the path and we're now in an awkward impass, Penelope was forced to steal herself, meet Benedict's eyes and give a small but decisive nod.

The squirming in her gut was horribly familiar and yet ceaselessly warm at the same time as Benedict broke into an unabashed grin and bounded over to her leading his family in uncharacteristic fashion and while Violet Bridgerton was clearly confused she would never let such an emotion effect her manners as she elegantly greeted them all, cleanly sidestepping both of her sisters failed engagements. As such, Penelope could help but delight slightly in the bewilderment on Violet Bridgerton's face as the pairing she was so gently influencing failed thoroughly to bare fruit.

A fortnight ago Penelope would have celebrated as Violet pushed Penelope and Colin together, sticking Eloise with Benedict, Francesca with Prudence and Phillipa with the children as she accompanied mama but Penelope had no such desire. Promptly grasping onto Benedict proffered arm with both arms securely tucking herself into Benedict's side, her cheek pressed almost indecently into his chest. Taking a dose of comfort from Benedict's warm presence she tuned out the commotion around her, Eloise's irritated noises as she was sandwiched between Phillipa's flirting and Colin's oblivious recounting of his tour, Antony's gentle ribbing of Benedict's unrestrained emotions and Kate's not so gentle teasing of Antony's repressed behavior.

"How are you, little love." Benedict whispered gently above her, and Penelope just pushed her face further into Benedict's chest and hummed.

"Everything's perfect." Penelope whispered back, their leisurely pace had them falling further and further behind the group, she let out a contented sigh at the perfect privacy of their moment.

"Stop it!" Kate scolded Antony behind them, having slapped Anthony upside the head for whatever he had been doing behind Benedict's back. Their self appointed chaperones seemed to be more involved with each other than anything else.

Penelope extracted herself from Benedict's gentle embrace to walk hand in elbow as was proper, tilting her head back to look up at Benedict's face studying the sharp freshly shaven jaw and thin lips, he looked so aristocratic. She imagined that he would make a better model than artist, although his disposition did suit the chaotic artist archetype.

"Are you done staring Pen?" Benedict prompted, breaking Penelope out of her reverie.

"Nope." Penelope japed, reaching out with one hand to grab his chin only to snatch it back when a cough sounded behind them.

The whole party stopped at a large blanket in a clearing. The whole of the ton seemed to be here to picnic, cloths laid out of the lush grass and servants setting up afternoon tea on small tables in the centre of each one. Benedict, Penelope, Kate and Antony crowded around one of the blankets claiming it for themselves, Benedict pointedly not looking at Colin or Eloise as Penelope sat by him instead of them.

"Phillipa!" Called a voice from the distance just as they had settled into place, immediately followed by the quickly approaching figure of Mr Finch. "Phillipa!"

"Penelope!"

"Mr Finch." Penelope replied with a note of amusement as Finch slowly turned a mottled red when he noticed the numerous eyes that had been drawn by his loud calls.

"Albion," They heard from the distance, "calm yourself." From the distance, at a much more reasonable pace, approached the Lord and Lady Finch. He rocked on his heals at the edge of their picnic blanket as he waited for his parents to approach.

"Bye Penelope!" Albion waved as he jogged to where his parents and her mother were conversing only to throw himself at Phillipa, holding her tight. Everyone watching on politely applauded, there had been no hiding the unwillingness of Phillipa and Albion's break up and love matches may not be common but they were celebrated; especially when they were so well matched.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Anthony said softly.

"Who are you and what have you done with my older brother?" Benedict retorted, causing Kate to throw her head back in a laugh.

As the sun began to set, the picnics were packed and they all regrouped to return to the carriages. Penelope slipped her arm back into Benedict's, watching from far behind as Phillipa practically skipped arm in arm with Albion and Kate leaned heavily into Anthony's side. She concentrated her gaze forward, trying to distract herself from the burning feeling of Benedict's eyes on the top of her head.

"I've contacted a real estate agent through my father's old lawyer. Would you review the properties before I purchase one?" She asked resolutely refusing to look at him.

"You are asking this of me? Truly?"

"Can I not?"

"You are asking me to aid you in the very decision I protest the most."

"But you will help me won't you?"

" Of course I will Petal, but only in exchange of a favour. You'll do me a favour, won't you Petal?" Benedict delighted in the delicate blush that rose to her face matching the colour her hair turned as the sunset behind her shone through it.

"Don't call me that when you're asking for a something Ben." Penelope demanded huffily turning away from him but simultaneously tucking herself further into his side.

"Let me paint you Pen."

"Paint ... me?"

"Yes." Benedict said, stopping suddenly. Penelope turned to face him only to have both his hands cup her face.

"Benedict Bridgerton!" She hissed.

"Penelope, I love you. Your warmth, your kindness, your determination, your rage. Your taste." Benedict added the last bit as he inhaled causing Penelope to slap his chest with the back of her hand. He grabbed her wrist and leaned his head into her palm.

"If I have to spend another day without you it would be a day to many, if I could only see one colour for the rest of my life it would be your eyes, if you cut open my veins I would bleed the colour of your hair. Penelope. If you leave without me, cut off my hands and gouge out my eyes before you go for art will mean nothing to me without you." Penelope felt routed to her spot as her body went cold.

"Benedict-" Penelope started to say but she didn't know what to say at all. How could she explain that her love for Benedict just wasn't enough, that she didn't know if it would ever be enough. That everyday she stayed here she risked being found out or worse, her mother finding her money.

"You don't need to say anything Penelope. Just agree."

"I do."

Chapter 9: The Beginning of the End

Summary:

Oof, hate putting Penelope through shit.

Chapter Text

The season may have been over but that didn't mean matches weren't still being organized. Their mama had organized for Phillipa to be in Mr Finch's presence as often as possible lest he lose interest in her, she had gone so far as to reduce Phillipa's food in the hopes of creating a supernatural silhouette. Penelope was sure that if her mama wasn't convinced Benedict was playing a prank on them all with his courting, she would be subject to this treatment as well.

A knock interrupted their lunch: a Bridgerton footman with a letter. She stood to interrupt the maid and take the letter but her mama caught the letter before she or Rose could and read the letter herself with increasing credulity.

"It seems that you have somehow enchanted Benedict Bridgerton for he would like to spend tomorrow with you."

"Oh mama, where will we be going?" Prudence asked eagerly, no doubt anticipating the sort of society parties they would now have access to being attached to a Bridgerton. Her mother turned to her with a sneer.

"Not us Featheringtons, dearest, just Penelope. Alone." Penelope reddened. Her mother handed her the letter asking Penelope alone to spend time with him, the letter was mysterious but not so vague that her mother could claim they had been taken advantage of and force a marriage. Of course Penelope knew that he was arranging for a portrait sitting but she would never reveal anything so intimate to her family.

The next morning Penelope was readied by Rose, she pulled out a pink dress that she hoped would compliment her, if this was the outfit that would memorialize her she would like to at least look good in it. Her hair was curled and pinned back making her look rather formal for early morning but she expected Benedict to have arranged for some privacy so she wasn't too fussed about it. She tiptoed down the stairs, hoping desperately that she wouldn't alert her mother to her movement, she didn't feel like answering any questions right now.

As she celebrated her success quietly, making her way to the footman holding the door open, a claw clutched her forearm pulling her violently into the sitting room. She was roughly turned to face her mother who was now holding her shoulders with a strength only her daughters knew she possessed. The fierce expression on her mothers face and the sharp nails pressing into her back silenced any protestations Penelope might have voiced instantly.

"Mama?"

"Penelope, have you spoken to the footman?"

"No Mama, are you alright?"

"Don't be stupid Penelope. The Bridgerton footman will apparently be taking you to Mr Bridgerton's personal residence."

"Mother-"

"Take this," her mother said frantically tucking a small bottle into Penelope's bosom, "I'm not sure what it is that Benedict Bridgerton sees in you," her mother looked her up and down with barely concealed disdain, "but men only want one thing and you will give it to him."

"Mother!" Penelope pulled herself away scandalized, fishing out the potion. Her mother grabbed her wrist before she could toss the bottle away.

"No Penelope! Must I spell everything out too you? You'd think you could have figured it out with all those books you read. This is the only chance you have ever had and may be the only chance you will ever get. You will sleep with Benedict Bridgerton. You will get pregnant. And you will marry him. I do not care if you have to strip naked in front of him but be useful for once in your life."

"Mother! I- what- ugh." Penelope stuttered and stumbled about before bracing herself against the doorframe, casting one last incredulous look at her mother and rushed away. It wasn't until she was in the carriage that she realized she was still holding on to the potion.

Chapter 10: The Portrait of Penelope Featherington

Summary:

Had some fun this chapter and so did they

Chapter Text

Penelope stepped out of the carriage in front of the apartment Benedict shared with Colin, a much appreciated slice of privacy assuming Colin was elsewhere for the moment. She began making her way to the door when she became aware of the vial still clutched in her fist, she made the movements to double back to the carriage only to watch it disappear back down the road. With no other options she tucked the thing back into her bosom discretely and wiped her clammy hands nervously on her skirts. Before she could knock, the door swung open in front of her and she was yanked into the building, Benedict catching her by the waist and she stumbled over the entryway.

"Hello there." Benedict grinned at her widely, his eyes crinkling at the edges. She could feel his chest rumble from where hers was pressed to his. She was mesmerized by the mischievous sparkle in his eyes. Penelope felt their knees knock together and pushed herself way, watching in concern as Benedict rose from his crouched position, she pressed a hand to her stomach and clenched, failing to feel any better.

In her examination of him she grew hot, all over, as she realized he was wearing, what was clearly a painting apron, with no shirt under. There was just so much for her to see, the tufts of curly chest hair that were visible from around the apron, the way the front panel seemed to only just hide his nipples leaving so much muscular chest for her examine, to explore. As her gaze slid perilously downwards, there was no way to miss the slight bump below the hip that was barely concealed by flush fabric.

She was interrupted from her careful study by an amused cough.

"Are you ready to get started, Petal?"

"Yes." Penelope stuttered thinking about how her bulges and rolls would be immortalized in acrylic, that she might have to disappear just to avoid ever seeing the painting.

Benedict led her to his bedroom, unaware of her tumultuous thoughts, ushering her in. Sat at the end of the bed was a bundle of white fabric and glimpses of gold. She whipped around to, she didn't know what, only to be greeted by a closed door and no Benedict. She sighed in what she hoped was his direction and turned back to deciphering this items she had been given.

Separating out the items she was quick to reveal a wreath of golden leaves and golden earrings dangling suns that seemed to twist in the sunlight. She hastened to remove her shoes and accessories and shed her dress, laying them out gently so that they would not wrinkle, stepping into the mass of white fabric before her. Its was scandalous. There was only one wide, translucent strap holding the dress up on one shoulder, fiddling with the strap she hoped to hide the nail marks and ruddy skin that were still imprinted there. The gauzy fabric cupped her breasts, moulding to their shape. It wrapped tightly around her natural waist, golden thread highlighting her figure in a very literal way. From her waist the dress hung loosely, curving delicately around her ample hips, revealing a long slit from hem to hip on one side as she stepped towards the full length mirror in the room.

As she twisted and turned before her reflection a maid entered the room with a tray of makeup. Penelope was shown to the desk chair as the excited young maid applied makeup and redid her hair. Her reflection was hidden from her even as she was put in complicated ballet shoes and pushed towards the attic room. She emerged into a room filled with light and half finished canvases strewn about the space. There was a sharp smell of acetone and lavender that had her wrinkling her nose. The warm wooden accents of the room reflecting colour and shadow.

Benedict was half hidden behind a huge canvas, the tips of his hair shining auburn in the morning sun.

"Just there, Pen." He said lightly, gesturing with a paintbrush to the window seat in the centre of the opposite wall. With no direction from Benedict, Penelope made herself comfortable, sitting side on to Benedict, her back leaning against the wall and gazing vacantly into the distance. She could feel the way she glittered but every time she turned to see Benedict he hummed in disapproval and she turned away.

Benedict had wasted no time in getting to work, the room quickly filled with the sounds of clicking and clacking. The gentle drag of the horsehair brush against the rough canvas reminded her of the wind blowing through summer grass. Benedict would occasionally hum and haw at his canvas, taking steps forward and back in a painters ballet, his keen eyes spending long moments studying her still form in a way she thought should have made her uncomfortable.

Penelope watched passively as the sun slowly set, staining the room in rich purples and warm oranges, leaking darkness in to the edges of her vision. Before the room could be plunged into darkness a maid came a lit a wealth of candles in every corner of the room. The amber cast of the room was distinctly different from the shadow of the sunset, as she watched the door closed the room filled with heady mist. Penelope's breast swelled with a deep breath. She could almost taste the paraffin in the air.

Her gaze refocused on the furrowed brow of Benedict, the lowest part of him she could see besides the glimpses of his feet when he stepped around the canvas. She memorized, with lidded eyes, the creases of his forehead and between his brows, the tiny drops of sweat that fell down his temples, the way his damp hair lay matted on his head, but all she could hear from him where gentle even breaths, almost as if he were asleep. She shifted in place and let out a deep yawn.

"We're done." Announced Benedict with a clack of his paintbrush.

"Really? Can I see?" Penelope finally sat upright, feeling her bones creak and groan. Wriggling her fingers and toes and relaxing her facial muscles with a contented sigh.

"Not until the final touches are done, but you don't need to be here for that." Benedict's smile was small but his eyes were proud, glinting in the light like whiskey. He turned the easel towards the corner, further away from her view as she eyed the distance between it and herself. Penelope's eyes were full of mischief and her muscles poised like a cat ready to pounce. With a delighted giggle she launched herself off the window seat in Benedict's direction.

In the same way her momentum threw her forward she could feel the muscles in her legs drive her down. She could barely feel her feet to stop her or her shoulders to break her fall. She closed her eyes to Benedict's face contorting in alarm as she attempted to brace herself in any way she could. But her head never hit the ground.

She slowly pushed herself upright with her arms and even more slowly opened her eyes.

Benedicts face greeted her first, cheeky lines etched into his expression. That is when Penelope realized that she had, at some point, pulled his apron off exposing his bare torso to her, on which her hands were firmly planted, pebbled nubs under her soft palms, coarse hair between her fingers. She moved her hands quickly trying to remove herself from the indecent position, straddling his thighs, but as she went to swing her leg over Benedict's he shifted his hips up, blocking her movement and causing her to tumble back down.

Her dress had moved away from her legs, not that it covered much to begin with, and she slid down his legs until her barely covered clit collided with his bulge.

"Ah!" Penelope threw her head back in an involuntary moan, her hands clutching at the apron bunched around his hips. Benedicts hands started tracing unrecognisable patterns starting at her bare knees and working upwards, revealing more and more skin to the air as he went, for Penelope every touch felt like burning, a lit match consuming her from the inside.

Penelope bit her lips trying to contain her moans, there were workers milling about the place and she refused to be caught in a compromising position but Benedict afforded her no reprise, shamelessly bunching the skirt of her dress around her waist and groping her thighs with soft little moans of his own.

"Please Ben, it's too much!" Penelope cried, once again pushing up from her position, only for Benedict to grab her with strength she didn't know he had and crush their crotches together again. She couldn't have stopped the shout if she tried and all her feelings blended into a mush of arousal. Benedict thrust up into her and she imagined that she could feel his length deep within her.

"Fuck!" His growl was deep and she moaned at the vibrations she could feel from him but the look in his eyes was dark, frenzied and animalistic as he dragged her pussy, only covered by soaked underwear, over the entire length of his bulge, clearly visible through tight trousers, his apron discarded. The sensation was overwhelming, she felt every nerve ending in her body had relocated to that sensitive part of her to feel this, so that that feeling could shoot up her spine and rearrange her brain. The look on Benedict's face was smug and promising and it lit a fire inside Penelope. She met his look head on and allowed herself to fall, she landed heavily on his crotch shifting and squeezing with abandon and tipped forward so that her her fingers could flick his nipples as they slid down to land on either side of his face.

Her look of innocence was betrayed by her grin as Benedict hissed and threw his head back so it thudded heavily against the wooden floor, his back aching ever so slightly up to her. As Benedict's hips started thrusting up with a more regular rhythm his hands, which encircled her waist, began guiding her to match. It didn't take long until Penelope had picked up the rhythm and started moving on her own, sitting up and wrapping her hands around Benedict's wrists for control. She grinded down, desperate for more friction and saw sparks as her wet clit caught itself against Benedicts trouser button. Their movements became sloppy and uncoordinated as Benedict's thrusts became rougher, like his clothed penis was trying to bully its way into her tight hole.

Penelope felt a wave rush through her and out of her, soaking Benedict's trousers and reddened all over as Benedict gave one last thrust and collapsed heavily into the floor.

She couldn't meet his eyes as filled as she was with embarrassment. Long fingers grabbed her chin and pointed her face at his, her eyes watered slightly as Benedict looked at her with an unreadable expression. She gasped as she felt fingers poking around her underwear and slipping into them. Benedict swiped his hand through the wetness there and looked deeply into her eyes as he licked her cum off his fingers, pushing his middle three fingers deep into his mouth and swirling his tongue around them. Penelope was bewitched as Benedict reached for her panties again, this time pressing his thumb down on her clit as well. The pit of Penelope stomach burned searingly and she grabbed his forearm and thrust her hot, bare pussy into his paint covered hands, his long, thick, wet fingers just so close to her untouched hole. Penelope closed her eyes and tried to muster up the courage to do it, not know if this would be her last chance to have him inside her.

Someone knocked at the door.

"The carriage has arrived to take Miss Penelope home." A maid announced behind the door.

"We'll be out in a minute!" Penelope replied panicked, scrambling up, and uselessly rearranging her hair and dress, her stomach and pussy clenching, her whole body dripping with sweat.

Penelope rushed back to Benedict's bedroom and began hurriedly getting redressed with the aid of the unperturbed maid. She panicked, there was no way to hide the disarray of her hair or the full body flush she was sporting. She would just have to sneak in through the servants entrance and hope her mother wouldn't notice.

Benedict watched from the landing as Penelope called a final goodbye out behind her before running out the door. Benedict strolled back into his art studio and gazed longingly at the space they'd occupied just moments earlier, the wood still wet and warm, spotting a scrap of cloth on the floor. He crouched and examined it in one hand before pressing Penelope's soaked panties into his nose imagining her reaction when she realized she lost them, or even better, when he could show her he had them.

Chapter 11: A Waiting Game

Summary:

Benedict and Penelope's story build to the climax but are they building in the same direction?

Notes:

Sorry these final chapters were so late even after I promised. I was possessed by the spirit of horror and have been writing some rather intense Harry Potter fanfiction.

Chapter Text

Benedict stormed into Anthony's study and slammed a stack of papers onto the desk in front of him, slumping into the chair as the papers scattered everywhere.

"Good evening Benedict, how are you this evening? I'm great, thank you. Oh, you need to talk to me? Oh no please come in, I can always make time for family, please sit." Anthony monologued pleasantly with the driest look possible in Benedicts direction. Benedict only let out an exaggerated sigh and slumped further into his chair, not even caring that he was wrinkling a fairly expensive suit.

"Nothing works, nothing is going to work, it's a nightmare." Benedict slumped out of the chair and slid onto the floor, lying splayed out like a star fish on the wood floor of Anthony's study.

"I hate everything and everyone." Benedict flip flopped face first into the ground.

Anthony collected and riffled through the papers that Benedict had brought with him. The thick artists pages each had watercolors of rings, down to the construction specifications.

"Are these engagement rings, Benny?" Anthony said teasingly with a large smile. "This is amazing, when are you going to ask? No, let's call the fitter here, we'll have something made immediately. Have you talked to mother yet?" Anthony, in proper Anthony fashion, started compiling a list of tasks in order of urgency as Benedict picked himself up off the floor.

"Don't, Anthony." Benedict started in a depressed tone. "I can't even design a good ring how can I convince her to say yes." Benedict's head fell to his knees as he groaned.

Anthony fixed Benedict with an unimpressed glare growing quite tired of the dramatics. Benedict had designed close to a dozen rings with no similarities and he was right, not a single one of them reminded Anthony of Penelope. Each more extravagant that the last, they seemed to come out of a text book without any of Benedict's unique creative flare.

Benedict propped his head on a hand and watched Anthony study his drawings with a growing frown.

"They're horrible aren't they?"

"I mean..." Anthony cringed

"Anthony!" Benedict exclaimed, offended and surprised.

"Benedict!" Anthony replied in the same tone. "If you wanted comfort you should have gone to mother. Did you think of Penelope's tastes at all when you made these?"

"You're supposed to be nice to me." Benedict whined pathetically.

"Kate!" Anthony called as Benedict groaned again. "Please summon my wife to the study." Anthony asked the maid that came when he shouted. "Ben, don't be so dramatic, Penelope will say yes regardless of what ring you propose with."

"Easy for you to say, you made a perfect proposal to your perfect wife with the perfect family ring that was given to our perfect mother from our perfect father at their-"

"It's lovely to hear that you think I'm perfect." Kate interrupted sunnily as she entered the study. "Now, what could possibly require my attention with such urgency?" She asked as she started ruffling through the papers Anthony handed her. "Oh how sweet, you're making Penelope a custom ring."

"It's not sweet it's a catastrophe." Benedict groaned, only refraining from going starfish again to preserve his decorum in front of his sister in law.

"This band with these stones in this setting." Kate stated, placing the sheets in front of him. Benedict glanced at Kate's directions before shooting up to his feet. He grabbed the designs from the table and flicked through the pages with increasing fervour and widening eyes. He snatched a plain piece of paper from Anthony's desk and sketched out the new design. Holding it up to the light a new dawn eclipsed Benedict's artistic spirit. Turning to Kate with renewed determination he pressed a big kiss to Kate's forehead and darted out the door.

"I love you more than Anthony!" Benedict called back through the hallway to the bemusement of the staff and he returned to his room to finalize the design.

"Hey!" And Kate's laughed echoed behind him.

Penelope was laid out on the floor of her bedroom, the secret panel of her floor in her hands, her suitcase tossed open and the contents of her wardrobe strewn about the place. The nothingness of the ceiling held more draw to her at the moment, or more so the image of Benedict's face that appeared when she stared at any blank surface long enough. She turned onto her side, clutching the floor panel to her chest. Her dress rode up and cold air brushed her legs causing a full body shudder to run through her. The last time she felt a breeze like that she had been on top of Benedict, the things she had felt, the things she had returned without. She stopped her train of thought there.

"Miss!"

"Rose?" Penelope answered with a deep groan. "How do you know when you're making a massive mistake?"

"What do you mean, miss?" Rose asked softly, sitting next to her and laying a gentle hand on the crown of her hair.

"What if I'm giving up on my only family too quickly? Is this my only chance to leave? Will I spend the rest of my life wondering if I could make this thing with Benedict work? Is it worth wondering about? What if I don't want to live with this constant 'what if?' ?" Penelope buried her face in Rose's lap with a pathetic sob.

"Oh Miss. I don't know what to say other than that I will be with you whatever you chose. If you stay or go I will be by your side." Rose consoled, combing her fingers through Penelope's hair.

"And if-" Penelope hiccupped, "if I want to stay with Benedict, even if he won't have me? Even if this is another Colin? Promising something he was never ready to give."

"Even then."

"I love him." Penelope whispered, her heart aching and thundering in equal measure.

"I know." Rose sighed, " and I'm inclined to say he loves you as well." Penelope lifted herself to her knees and buried her face into Rose's shoulder.

"Shall we pack your case up then Miss Penelope." Rose announced with hands on Penelope's shoulder. She wiped away her tears and stood with hands on her hips.

"Yes!" Penelope grabbed Rose's outstretched hands and pulled her self up with a giggle.

The morning air was still as the midnight sun, light pierced the cloudy sky like a kaleidoscope of renewal. A halo illuminated the art studio in Benedict and Colin's apartments.

Benedict was painting by the guiding light of dawn, shirtless and fanatic. Paint coated his arms to the elbows and matted his chest hair as he knelt before his alter. A tiny paintbrush in hand, the perfect ring on a separate table some distance away so it remained untouched other than the burning touch of God. He was adding just the finishing touches to the texture of Penelope's hair, the rosy blush on her skin, the beguiling look in her eyes but most importantly, the ring on her finger. He wiped sweat from his brow with his arm, careful to not get paint in his eyes. He didn't want to blind himself before he got to see Penelope again, in real life at least.

He had left crafting the perfect invitational letter to Anthony, unable to keep his true intentions from the pen, incapable of writing anything appropriate for public viewing. His only point of input had been a date and time, a weeks time. He had a week to perfect his alter, to dry and glaze it. Before it he could only pray Penelope would stay here to see it.

Penelope hands glided over the edges and seams of her packed and sealed trunk. The arrangements had been made, nearly finalized. The carriage, the route, the destination and most importantly the time, but she wasn't sure if she was ready yet. Would she be capable of leaving her entire life behind, leaving Benedict behind? She wouldn't be leaving everything behind would she, Lady Whistledown would live on, would continue with her network of maids and footmen feeding her information but did she want to?

She had been spending more and more time in her room lost in thought, going so far as to miss whole meals, pleasing her mother to no end probably assuming Penelope was in the grips of some sort of morning sickness or weight loss trend. Penelope's listlessness knew no end, it felt like life was controlling her despite the fact that, for the first time in her life, every decision made was exclusively her own to make. Her thoughts drifted to Benedict again, his unbounded excitement, is unfettered affection, his cheeky smiles, his coarse curly chest hair that trailed into that hot hard bulge. Penelope's core clenched and thighs trembled, hands drifted downwards before forming fists. She restrained herself. Every thought of Benedict lead to a complete loss of control and she couldn't convince herself to dislike it at all. If anything it only made her more passionate, to crave him more. She felt like Aphrodite, chasing lust with abandon, filled with an all consuming soul crushing love, incapable of thinking of anything but him. Is this what she wanted for the rest of her life, to be ravaged in every meaning of the word?

Chapter 12: The Proposal

Summary:

The chapter we've all been waiting for

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Penelope had come down for a meal, a rare occurrence in the past week. Her mother silently placed an open letter on her empty plate.

"It seems something is afoot." Her mother said with an indescribable tone.

"Maybe Lord Bridgerton is demanding compensation for Penelope torturing them with her presence." Prudence laughed cruelly but Penelope couldn't bring herself to care.

Opening the letter with little fanfare she scanned through the rather dry contents.

"Benedict wants me to visit him again next week." She announced the room without inflection to her voice, propping up her head in the palm of her hand.

"Good," her mother said, "maybe with your recent weight loss you can rekindle whatever has fallen apart between you two."

"Nothing bad has happened between us mother, it's quite to the contrary in fact."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Portia asked with a raised eyebrow. Penelope's hand fell out beneath her and her face faded into a deep red while Phillipa wiggled her eyebrows and giggled.

"I'll... I'll just get going." Penelope rushed out of the room.

"Good!" Her mother called behind her, "you've got some weight to lose yet!"

Penelope and Rose stood outside Benedict's house hand in hand, they both knew that the outcome of this event would determine their futures.

Benedict opened the door in more formal wear than Penelope had ever seen him in. His normally bouncy curls were slicked back and his dark eyes piercing. His navy tailcoat complimented his ivory shirt and matched his cravat. Tailored trousers made him look taller than ever and it made Penelope grateful that she had decided to wear her final secret gown to what might be her final meeting with Benedict. She complemented him quite nicely in a gold gown with delicate forest green embroidery and long sleeves, it made her imagine the sight they would make in matching Bridgerton blue.

Benedict grabbed her hand and guided her in, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm as Rose was lead away by the butler. She had no time to think as she was led to the attic where she had sat for her painting and made such precious memories.

Benedict entered before her, turning her back to the room and covering her eyes with his arm.

"Don't peek." His breath ghosted the shell of her air.

"I promise." She returned breathless and unsteady as he guided her blindly through the room backwards.

"Keep your eyes closed, ok." Benedict removed his arm and she felt his absence from her vicinity.

"Benedict!" She called out alarmed with her hands outstretched, reaching for him.

"Just a moment, Pen. Everything has to be perfect." He threw in her direction as the rustling continued. "Ok, Petal, open."

Penelope blinked the spots out of her vision, taking in the soft afternoon light that highlighted the specs of dust in the air. The wooden walls of the room cast a warm glow into the space but the clear centre peace was right in front of her.

Directly opposite the window, in direct sunlight was a huge portrait of her. Sat on a stone bench in a beautiful garden she glowed like an angel.

"You can touch it." Benedict offered behind her.

Penelope grazed the surface with the tips of her fingers, her hair glittered in the sun, threads of gold fading in and out of waves of orange. Her skin was a warm peach, freckles dappling her skin like sun dipped kisses. Her hand traced the curve of her waist, adorned by pleats and gold and Benedict's love. Even her shoes had been painted with such detail, such care, every brushstroke seemed so deliberate and controlled. Tracing her eyes over the whole portrait a singular detail caught her eye. She had thought back to that day over and over again, the outfit, the room, the events that happened in that outfit in that room and she had been sure that she had not worn a ring.

She took a step closer until she was nose to canvas to the painting. She studied the jewelry, trying to recall if she had seen the ring before anywhere. She didn't think she owned any emeralds, she could see the individual tiny diamonds clustered around the square emerald and even the peeks of gold through the gaps in the stones from the band. She counted the fingers on the hand, amazed he had bothered to paint even the gradient under her fingernails. She counted the fingers again.

"Benedict, this ring-" she stopped stock still. He was on one knee.

"Penelope-" Benedict looked earnestly into her eyes, an open ring box in his hand.

"Benedict!" Penelope's hand flew to her mouth, "wait-"

"No Penelope," Benedict interrupted, "I have to say this now, before I lose my nerve. I love you, I love you, I love you. I'll say it a million times everyday until you believe me. There is nothing I desire more in the world than go stand as your man by your side for the rest of your life, or mine, whichever ends first. I- I- don't know what more I can say. I crave you like Hephaestus needed Aphrodite, like Hades needed Persephone and I'm willing to do whatever necessary to have you. I cannot live a life without you. Take me with you wherever you might go or take my life, you are my only reason for living. I am nothing without you, you are everything. Be my everything."

"Are you done?" Penelope asked breathlessly.

"Yea, yes, I am."

Penelope threw herself at Benedict, on one knee he was close to her height and Penelope was glad for the opportunity to grab him by the lapel to draw him into a filthy kiss. She thrust her tongue into his mouth with a moan and pressed herself closer to him, as close as she could without more indecency. His arms wrapped around her and the corner of the box poked the small of her back reminding her to pull away.

"Is that a yes then?" Benedict asked, cheeks red, eyes catching hers like a cat tracking a mouse. Penelope wet her lips and let out several heaving breaths. She had been so sure, she had been anything but sure, but now, now she was definite.

"Yes." She released from her soul. "Yes. Yes. Yes!" She cried, lifting her left hand to him, great heaving sobs wracking her body as he pressed the perfect ring onto her trembling hand.

Rose burst through the door, frazzled, followed closely behind by the butler who had clearly been charged with distracting her while Benedict got through his speech. Penelope turned to Rose silently and thrust her bedazzled hand out at her. Rose grabbed her hand, examining it and looking between them. After a moment of silence Rose let out an ear piercing squeal pulling Penelope into a tight hug.

Penelope took a deep breath and stepped back into Benedict's embrace.

"Rose," Penelope calmed herself, "I want you to be the first to know, as my closest family. We are engaged." The ear spitting grin she was sporting was met in turn.

"And let me be the first to congratulate you my Lady." Rose's bright grin graduated into a full laugh.

"Rose?"

"Imagine miss," Rose doubled over, "imagine your mother's face when you come home with an engagement ring worth more than the entire Featherington fortune." She finished breathlessly. Penelope was slack jawed for a moment before she grabbed Rose's hand and ran out the room.

"We don't have to imagine Rose! Let's go!" Penelope laughed in return. Benedict looked at his butler bemused as the ladies left the room. Penelope rushed back in to plant a final kiss on Benedict's mouth.

"I love you." She whispered into his mouth, flying out of the room like a golden fairy.

"Bye!" Both ladies called as they ran out the door.

Notes:

I'm sorry if this is rather lackluster. I've really struggled getting this right and I don't feel great about it but putting something off never helped anybody.

Chapter 13: The End

Summary:

Telling your family your engaged really is a mixed bag of cats.

Notes:

Finally validating that gaslighting tag that's been hovering over this thing ominously.

Chapter Text

Penelope and Rose rushed into the Featherington house not even an hour after they had left with great commotion, wild hair and eyes bright and cheeks red from laughter, concocting scenarios the whole carriage ride home.

"What is this noise about." Demanded Lady Featherington, scanning the two girls, hand in hand, with clear disapproval and it was because they were hand in hand that the huge green ring caught her mother's attention. Her mother grabbed her hand and brought the ring to her eye level.

She poked and prodded at the gemstones, eyes filling with disbelief inch by inch as each stone proved to be real. Suddenly Penelope was being physically dragged into the sitting room hand first. Prudence and Phillipa both rose to meet the commotion and had wildly different reactions. Phillipa's squeals of excitement were not to be mistaken for Prudence's squawks of outrage. As her mother released her Prudence snatched the ring from her finger.

"This is not happening, it's just not possible." Prudence muttered holding the ring up the the sunlight and trying to pry the stones from the setting. Phillipa took the opportunity to filch the ring from Prudence and clean it up with the sleeve of her dress.

"It's quite stunning, isn't it Varley?"

"It's quite astonishing." Varley announced looking between her and her mother. "Where on earth did you get it?"

"Well," A smile danced on Penelope's face, "Benedict proposed!" Penelope immediately found herself with her arms full of Phillipa.

"I knew it! I knew it since the park! The Filchs told me." Phillipa announced smugly.

"And are you... You know-"

"Mother! I am not pregnant!"

"It's just a question," her mother stated blandly, "why else would he-"

"Do you really think someone would only propose to me out of consequence?" Penelope asked, turning to face her mother fully, eyes nearly spilling over with tears but before she could get her answer a footman announced the arrival of a letter that was handed directly to Penelope. Furiously opening the letter she read out loud:

"My lovely Penelope,

I'm sorry to write without formality but I do not believe such etiquette is necessary for my future wife. As you ran out of my house to share our news rather unceremoniously I did not have the opportunity to inform you that I had originally planned to take you in a carriage directly to the Bridgerton house to tell my family since only Anthony and Kate are aware of my plans.

Please make haste to Bridgerton house, every moment we spend apart is a moment too long for me. I think of you with every breath, with every tick of the clock, with every stroke-"

Penelope stopped with a squeak as the letter quickly devolved into filth, quickly folding the letter back up, stuffing it in the envelope and tucking the whole thing into her bosom. She made eye contact at Rose through the door and turned back to Phillipa. Phillipa gave her a knowing look and slid her ring back onto her finger and gave her a little push back out the door.

She ran outside to find the carriage waiting. Penelope rushed over to the Bridgerton house, rereading the note she received from Benedict growing warmer and intermittently releasing deranged sounding giggles as she imagined him writing it.

When she arrived at the house she was directly welcomed by Benedict who took her left hand to kiss the ring on her finger. He led her to the sitting room where every Bridgerton was sat in various states of confusion and Antony and Kate in clear amusement. He led her to the center of the room, hand still clutching hers, his eyes scanned each member before he leaned back in a relaxed manner.

"Penelope and I are engaged. We will now be taking questions." Penelope was overrun by Bridgertons rushing towards them with congratulations and questions and more questions. Just as she was beginning to feel overwhelmed she felt Benedict wrap an arm around her waist and pull her back, Kate wrapped her in a warm hug and congratulated her with mischief in her eyes. The warmth of the atmosphere was frozen by Eloise's interruption.

"You absolutely cannot marry Penelope, I will not be associated with Lady Whistledown!" She rushed out all in one breath. The entire room turned to Eloise in collective confusion, Penelope stilled in surprise that Eloise would say her secret with such little compassion. Amongst the chorus of confused exclamations, Eloise and Penelope locked eyes.

"I found out at the Featherington Ball. That's why I disappeared." Eloise announced, her voice gaining confidence and volume with every word. As they looked at each other, their eyes grew in intensity and fury, a reprisal of the argument they had had at the ball.

"You didn't mention any of this to the doctor." Violet interrupted their silent conversation with concern at the pale white face and splotchy red cheeks of her daughter. Eloise visibly flinched and turned to her mother, her mouth opening and closing without any words. Penelope took this opportunity to clasp one of Eloise's hands in both her hers.

"Oh Eloise, I know that I have been reticent of your search for Lady Whistledown but how could I possibly be someone like that? You know as well as anyone that I spend every ball in the corner avoiding Cressida Cowper, that the people of the ton largely don't know my name and I don't even have any other friends. How on earth could I be Lady Whistledown? How could I know even know a fraction of the information she does?" Penelope said in her sincerest tone, her cute figure and soft reputation lending to her act despite the sharp eyes she was directing at Eloise only.

"I'm hurt that you would say such a thing simply because I refused to help you. You were just going too far, Eloise, I love you too much to let you put yourself in danger." She stepped back into Benedict's embrace elbowing him in the side to break his nearly audible sniggering. Benedict removed the hand covering his wide smile, schooling his impression and putting his hand on Eloise's shoulder reaching over Penelope.

"Eloise, you couldn't have had any conversation with Penelope that night, I spent practically the whole evening with Penelope and she spent the rest of the evening with Colin." Colin nodded in agreement to the statement before his eyes lit up and a toothy grin tilted the edges of his lips.

"When you said you spent the evening with Penelope did you mean-"

"Colin Bridgerton!" Violet exclaimed, scandalized.

"But-" Eloise tried to interject weakly as Violet pushed Colin towards Eloise and he placed a hand on each of her shoulders.

"Take a nap sweetheart, you must still be ill, and Colin do not return until you are ready to be appropriate." Violet called out as Eloise was led upstairs, getting a boyish grin from Colin despite Eloise physically fighting him the whole way.

"Now dearest," Violet started cheerier, turning on her heel, "you must tell me everything!" She led Penelope to sit beside her on the lounge, all the women gathering around her to examine the engagement ring with great interest.

As the evening wound down, they were interrupted by a knocking at the door. A footman was let into the sitting room.

"Lady Featherington has asked for her daughter to return home." Penelope rose to return but before she could leave, in the hall, she was stopped by Anthony.

"Penelope, there's something I need to discuss with you in private before you leave." Penelope nodded to the footman who left to wait with the carriage.

"Of course Lord Bridgerton." He ushered her into his office and pulled out a chair for her.

"That won't be necessary." She said, remaining standing. He looked at her, eyebrow raised, as he took his seat on the other side of the desk.

"Well Penelope, as you know with me and the Finch's marrying into your family, whomever produces an heir will be inheriting your family and everything it entails. I know that as the third daughter you may not be particularly informed about your family's situation-" He looked at papers on his desk, avoiding even looking in her direction. As Anthony danced around the family debt with increasing awkwardness and decreasing eye contact, Penelope reached under her dress and pulled out a large, heavy pouch that she had hidden in case her and Benedict had gone all wrong and she decided to run there and then. She interrupted his spiel by slamming the pouch on the desk in front of him. The distinct rattling of coins filled the room as the bag settled on the desk.

"Penelope?" Anthony questioned, finally looking at her as he reached for the pouch strings to confirm his suspicions.

"The money in this pouch is the total sum of the debt my family owes to the best of my knowledge. You may have it if you ask no following questions." Penelope announced, pulling the pouch strings open to reveal the mass of gold inside. Abruptly, Anthony stood, his chair scraping against the floor, hand extended.

"It was a pleasure to do business with you Miss Penelope. Congratulations on your engagement, I give you my blessings and best wishes." He said with equal amounts joy and relief in his tone and Penelope shook his hand.

"I'll see you later big brother." Penelope teased as she left the office, closing the door to the sound of Anthony's laughter. As she left the Bridgerton house, she said a personal goodbye to Benedict on the front step, knowing that there would be very few intimate moments between now and their wedding.

"Thank you Benedict. I know you didn't have to-" she was interrupted when his plush lips pressed against hers. His mouth enveloped hers and his tongue pushed into her mouth in a filthy kiss that was, frankly, incredibly inappropriate for such a public setting. She's sure they scandalized several people as they walked by but she wouldn't have it any