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Chapter Text

Penelope had prepared for this moment as much as she could manage. She had complained of a stomachache and taken breakfast in her room, to avoid hearing or seeing her cousin. Marina’s very presence an anathema in recent days. To “settle her stomach” she elected for a long walk before she was to take tea with the Bridgertons, as had become tradition. Conveniently placing her out of the house when Colin arrived to escort Marina to Bridgerton House.

You love Colin Bridgerton.

In the end, Penelope estimated that her defenses would hold. Carefully NOT thinking about Colin these past hours and not having to see him in person, created a sort of blank space in her mind. Absent of anything associated with Colin, absent of any memories that could hurt her or tear her heart further asunder. A meditative peace to allow her to arrive to tea as emotionally un-weary as possible. With any luck, she believed she could hold up a happy guise through tea then adjourn to her own room at home, and cry in her solitude, if need be. Truthfully, she would settle for getting through this tea while maintaining a pleasant countenance, if not necessarily her usual level of sunny demeanor.

She need not have worried about stumbling though, for the decisive hit rang first and true and shattered her, like so many pieces of glass.

Your love is an unrequited fantasy.

There was a happy moment, just as the Bridgerton’s butler, Wickham, closed the doors behind her, where she could hear Francesca playing the pianoforte accompanied by Colin singing, to Hyacinth’s and Gregory’s delighted giggles. The warm harmony that always resonated wherever the Bridgertons gathered comforted her. Loving, warm, devoted, pure sunshine. Moments like these spawned many of her fantasies about being Mrs. Colin Bridgerton. Fantasies about being surrounded by a family that valued and supported her, a family with whom she belonged. And then she registered Marina’s laugh amidst the laughs of the younger Bridgertons, and her heart broke a new.

Colin sees you as you are and regards you no differently than Eloise, or even little Hyacinth.

She thought she did well not to crumple to the floor on the spot, but her devastation must have shown on her face as Wickham, the ever knowing and most preceptive butler in existence (in the country to be sure), paused in waving her in. Both of them just out of sight of the family room doorway. She could feel herself shaking, trying to physically hold herself together in the Bridgerton’s foyer and not let loose any of the heartrending sobs she could feel building up in her throat. Without a word, Whickham redirected her to Anthony’s study. She made it through the door to the center of the room and could do not but nod and stand there, back to the door, as Wickham promised to return with his lordship.

He sees me as a wife, a woman.

It was an eternity later that a solemn faced Anthony turned her to him, took one look at the tears silently running down her face, and pulled her into his arms. Only with her face buried in his shirt and chest did she finally let loose her despair.

Anthony knew what his brother’s decision meant for her, as did Benedict, as did his mama. And though he loved his brother unconditionally, Anthony was struggling to welcome Colin’s fiancée. Colin spoke of a connection with Ms. Thompson, an understanding of spirit, but Anthony could not help but be leery. Although Ms. Thompson was plain in her affection for his brother, there was a distance in her eyes when the conversation turned away from her, when Colin’s eyes were not on her. When she thought no one was watching, Anthony was watching. Whatever her intentions, they did not inspire warmth or a smile from her in those moments. He had taken up with Siena for long enough to know a performance when he saw one. Made even more obvious by the fact that the show only went on when Colin was watching and ended the second he wasn’t. But how to explain that to his brother who would only reply that Anthony just “didn’t understand” their love for each other. How to explain that she, although always polite when addressed, did not ever seem to be at ease with their family, only relaxing in her distance on the fringes of any of their conversations. Granted the lot of them at one time could overwhelm the best person in the world, his own mother could attest to that, but this was a woman who wanted to be a part of the family, and the warmth she was faking was transparent and awkward at best. The general Bridgerton brand amiability could not complete this bridge on its own.  Maybe it really was something you learned. This relishing in the camaraderie and love and warmth of their family bond that he always treasured, that Colin always treasured, that Penelope always treasured.

It was a mere month into Penelope’s friendship with Eloise that she managed to endear herself to every one of them, becoming one of them. A Penelope shaped void in their family until she arrived for tea every week. A Bridgerton in heart if not in truth or law, so quickly, so naturally.

Although he and Benedict had entertained a bet once or twice on how long it would take Colin to realize Penelope held special feelings toward him, there was never any resolution. Maybe it was because she was so shy in public or conversing with strangers that no one outside of his family, and certainly none of the Featheringtons, seemed to notice how witty and perfectly lovely she was. And as the days turned to weeks and then months, and she made her debut into Society, Colin never seemed to acknowledge or notice the sparkle in her eye when they conversed nor the special smile she had only for him.

Anthony was confident she knew his brother better than anyone else in their family did. He never knew what they spoke of when in conference only with each other, but the softened bashful look Colin’s face would occasionally don right before she made him laugh heartily, spoke volumes. He’d watch Colin’s spine and shoulders straighten, as if suddenly unburdened, as a result. She knew pieces of him that he didn’t let just ANYONE see, and it meant something that he let her. But even on the occasions he or Benedict would mention her in discussing their sisters’ romantic prospects, hoping to hear some change in Colin’s regard for her, defensiveness or possessiveness maybe? Colin would only ever show a brotherly posture when saying, “Pen deserves the best, she knows not to settle for anything less than a love match, none of our sisters would.” One shared look with Benedict always spoke their shared opinion on the matter. Their poor poor sister.

Now engaged to Ms. Thompson, any hope they held of Colin marrying Penelope and making her officially their sister diminished. A slow and painful yawning death. Anthony could only hold her harder to him as she cried.

That was how Benedict and their mama found them, on their way back to the family room from fetching more drawing charcoal and embroidery thread each. Glimpsing them through the jarred door, as Anthony held a shaking Penelope to his chest, shifting from one foot to the other in a rocking motion. Penelope’s sobs only became audible once they crossed the door’s threshold, as did Anthony’s soft repeated murmuring, “I’m so sorry, sister. I’m so so sorry.”

Benedict quietly shut the door as their mother crossed to sit on the settee, drawing Penelope to her side as the girl tried to steady her hiccupping breathing. Taking a seat on the low table opposite them, Benedict took and held her hand, stroking it with as much empathy and comfort as he could communicate in the action. Anthony sat next to him on the table, having closed his jacket over the wet patch on his shirt when Penelope’s back had been turned.

After a few minutes in silence, Violet stroking her hair, Penelope’s tears subsided, and her breathing calmed. Gentle and tender, Violet murmured, “Dearest, she means to stay for dinner, do you feel up to it?” Penelope shook her head after thinking on it a moment. Colin didn’t believe her when she told him about George Crane, she was unsure which of her loyalties would win out if presented with the opportunity of outing Marina’s pregnancy. Loyalty to the Bridgertons or her own family, her choice was clear and it made her uneasy.

With a soft smile, Benedict offered to see her home, a tired nod was the best she could muster. As they all stood, Anthony gave her one last hug and a kiss to her forehead. Violet cradled her cheeks, looking into her eyes with open affection. With a hug and a kiss to her temple, Violet let her pass to Benedict. Approaching the door, Benedict slung an arm around her shoulders and jerked her to his side, depositing several playful kisses to her crown, surprising a laugh out of her. She hip bumped him away before taking his arm as they re-entered the foyer. Allowing her to exit before him, Benedict turned to share a sad look with Anthony and his mother, before exiting himself. There was a brief pause as Wickham shut the front door, a shared moment of grieving silence before Wickham returned to his duties, Anthony went to change his shirt, and Violet went to rejoin the rest of the family.

As a woman, I must make these difficult choices for myself…

Penelope dropped off her articles to that week’s printer, spine ramrod in resolution. Accepting a pittance of a buying price in exchange for a quicker turn around. She needed this edition out before Colin or Marina could make their escape.

She could admit that she wanted Colin for herself, wanted him to love her back. But even if he never returned her affections, she would not allow Marina to entrap him, even knowing he would be the best of fathers to George Crane’s poor child. It would have been different if Colin knew the child was not of his blood and married Marina anyway, but Marina made it clear she did not trust Colin to still choose her, good and kind though he was, and thus would not tell him until after they were married. It had shocked and frustrated her to hear the clear dismissal in his voice and see the patronizing look on his face when she told him about George. She wasn’t a doe eyed child for God’s sake!

…or even little Hyacinth

If he wouldn’t listen to her about George, she doubted he’d believe her about Marina being with child. Her cousin had spent the day in the sunshine and harmony of the Bridgerton Family Room, with the tinkle of Francesca on the pianoforte and the warm timbre of Colin's voice and the laughter from the youngest Bridgertons. She still decided to not tell Colin she was pregnant and still decided to elope. Penelope could only hope he’d listen to Lady Whistledown.

Regardless, Penelope was well versed in the limits to parental affection, as was Marina. Even with the heart of a Bridgerton, could Colin love the child and NEVER allow them to learn of the betrayal, how much it had hurt him (whenever he found out), if he and Marina successfully eloped? Could he never let even a single shred of negative emotion loose upon Marina, once he knew? Penelope was certain she knew Colin and his nature, better than his fiancée at least, no matter what Marina thought. The Bridgertons were fiercely loyal, loved fiercely, felt fiercely. This deception would break his heart and he would never trust Marina ever again. This would break his family’s heart. Even if the rest of the ton never found out, his family would know, whatever happiness they may find in the future would be tainted by their heartbreak for Colin or the loss of him, if they were obliged to turn him out to preserve the rest of the family's honor. This is what she could do, this is what she would do, to protect him. She chose to ruin Marina, Marina's child, and possibly her whole family. For the love she felt for Colin and his.

Penelope stepped back into her hired hack and returned home, ignoring the flicker of candlelight from under her cousin’s door.

Chapter Text

“Allow me a day. I shall arrange everything.”

Penelope was both glad and kicking herself that she was standing against the secondary door to the parlor. It was supporting her stunned form quite well, yet allowed her to hear Marina convincing Colin to elope with her, which made her want to bang her head against the doorframe.

She could feel her heart beating in her temples, she was running out of time. Taking a deep breath and collecting herself, Penelope decided to try to sway Colin one last time. His patronizing face flashed bright in her mind then. She had to try one more time, there would be no other chances. Prudence was wrapping up her song. The Bridgertons would leave soon after.

The second Marina crossed through the open door’s threshold, headed to her seat, Penelope pressed back into her door, opened it behind her and slipped out, closing it again. Colin hadn’t yet reached the open doorway. “Colin!” she said, loud enough to reach him down the silence of the hallway but not loud enough to be heard over Prudence’s performance. He turned, clearly surprised to see her there again. He seemed about to wave her off and return to the parlor but catching the look on her face and how she gestured, in a “Come here this instant” fashion, he suddenly felt like he’d been caught misbehaving by his mother and obliged to present for punishment. Pacing back the way he came, he was confused by the livid expression on his friend’s face.

Even as she stood there wringing her hands, she almost looked tempted to slap him across the face, so he didn’t step too close. I cannot believe he’s making me do this, Penelope opined to herself.

When he reached her, he just quirked his eyebrow and smiled in curiosity, “Pen?”

She took a deep breath and seemed to steel herself to say her piece. He was, as of yet, inexperienced with this incensed version of Penelope, so was quite blindsided by the force with which she said, “Colin, you CANNOT do this.” She didn’t let him ask what she meant by that.

“You CANNOT abandon your family to elope with Marina.”

Colin heaved a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, “Oh Pen, not you too.” She only raised a sardonic eyebrow, putting her hands on her hips. God she was adorable, just on the precipice of eviscerating him with her little kitten claws, he was sure. He had to smile at the thought.

Before he could think how to placate her, she started in, “I suppose I should be grateful you granted me this audience? Seeing as how, apparently, everyone you loved and cared about before, now mean nothing to you, now that you have Marina.” …Lion claws' more like.

“Pen!” he tried to admonish her but she just continued over him.

“Why aren’t our words and concerns enough to give you pause, Colin? Your family has loved and supported you your ENTIRE life, and you them, yet in the span of a two minute conversation they are now unworthy of being able to attend your wedding? Never mind your allegedly ‘dear’ friend.” Why had she said that? Just the thought of there being a wedding where he was the groom but she wasn't the bride, made her feel sick.

That pulled him up short.

“Anthony is a Rake with a capital ‘R.’ Your mother has been Viscountess for decades, protected all of your social lives since you were born. Both are well experienced in telling when someone is just trying to get close to them to use them or to gain an advantage. Of all people, how can you doubt their counsel?”

“They just don’t know Marina like I do,” Colin countered. YOU don't know her like I do.

“So she’s good enough for you to marry her, but not good enough to have your family know her before you shackle them to her? My, Colin, what an absolutely glowing recommendation for the future Mrs. Colin Bridgerton.”

Ow, steady on, that hurt, “Penelope!”

“Don’t you ‘Penelope’ me, Colin Bridgerton! I’m the one standing here trying to stop you from showing your family just how little you care about them. How easily they are disposed of in the grand scheme of your life.” She then patted him on the chest in a disturbingly fake friendly manner, and said, “I know! Maybe you should wait until you all quit Bridgerton House so you can backhand them across the metaphorical face as a set, at Aubrey Hall, your ancestral home, in front of your father’s grave.”

Colin gasped as if she had actually struck him. He had never seen her like this, he was fairly sure she had said more words to him in the past minute than she had in the entirety of their association prior to it.

Penelope could tell she was getting more petty and more venomous but he clearly hadn’t thought of these things. She had to follow this path, she supposed she went with this approach rather than the more personal one because it was less likely to lead to her own mortification and embarrassment, and his pity. This was likely the end of their friendship, but if it prevented him from making this mistake, she wasn’t going to hold back.

She didn’t hold back, and she didn’t stop, “Oh, of course, I forgot, you're on a schedule, silly me. Maybe you should just do it now, you really only need to tell Anthony and your mother, they can communicate your break with the family to the rest of your siblings efficiently enough, I’m sure. Wait here, I’ll go get them!” Her face alight with false cheer, she made to step past him, presumably heading to the parlor. In a flash, he had her above both her elbows, hauling her back in front of him and onto one of the nearby steps, so they were now eye to eye.

Even with rage splashed over his face, she had never found him more attractive. I suppose this is better than having no effect on him at all. His grip wasn’t painful but she, for sure, was not going anywhere.

She knew she was playing with fire now, she didn’t think he would hurt her, but it didn’t feel like their friendship would survive this. She had never been a competitive person, certainly not to the levels of the Bridgerton siblings amidst a game of Pall Mall, but she had to win now, she had to save him.

“What? Nothing to say, Col? Can’t even defend your relationship and your planned actions from lil’ ol’ Penelope Featherington, even a little bit?”

He seemed to realize his menacing posture in that moment because in the next he seemed to deflate, hands resting on her arms instead of gripping.

“I love her, Pen. I only want to be with her. I want to marry her.”

Sighing, she finally softened, reading the abashed look in his eyes far too easily for the objective position she was trying to take, “We both know you’d castrate yourself before intentionally hurting your family, Colin,” she had to laugh when he winced. “Marina is my friend too, I think she’s lovely. But the speed of your courtship is all but shoving her down your family’s throat. How can they learn to like her, let alone love her, like that? Anthony and your mother may come to love her and welcome her into the family but not when all they keep seeing of her are warning signs of a trap with your name on it.”

He glanced away then, conflicted. Feeling bold with their proximity, Penelope brought her hand up and caressed his cheek affectionately, bringing his gaze back to meet hers. Oh, how she loved him. Why can't you love me back. “You’re special to me, Colin. I don’t want to see you hurt or trapped in a marriage, when you deserve your love match. I don’t profess to know the pull or ache you feel for Marina but I’d hope her love is worth the patience it seems it’ll take to add it to your family’s.” That was curious, what did she feel for...mystery man. Colin filed that away for another time.

His brow furrowed slightly, “She doesn’t want to wait, and neither do I. She deserves a family that will embrace and accept her, even if that family is only me.” And her first love’s child, Penelope thought snidley and a little unkindly.

Sighing again, her eyes drifted away in thought, she didn’t even notice when her other hand joined the first in caressing his face. For his part, Colin didn’t even think to stop it, watching her think, letting her soothing touch ease some of his anxiety, the feel of her arms in his hands centering him. He didn’t think of his family as overly tactile, but he’d always taken great comfort in their touch, his mother was a prime example of this soothing ability, and now it seemed it extended to Penelope. When had little Pen become such a comfort to him, they had never touched so familiarly like this before.

After a moment she said, “She doesn't know your family, Colin. She hasn’t had the chance to experience the warmth, love, and support you all bask in and exude. That I’ve always treasured since I first became a friend of your family. Not from her family, perhaps not from anyone.” The selfish part of Penelope wanted it to stay that way, to be the only non-family recipient of their love.

She hesitated to say what she wanted to say next, she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to follow through, but as she gazed into his beloved eyes she knew she’d have to find the strength somewhere. “Give me a day, bring her to tea tomorrow. Give her a taste of what life being loved by you Bridgertons can be like. See if that doesn’t change her mind about eloping.” Or telling you about her pregnancy.

She watched him as he thought over her proposal. He hadn’t removed his hands from her arms, so she saw no need to remove hers from his face. She smiled softly at him, as his eyes darted over her face as he thought, not urging but waiting, like she always has for him. Taking a deep breath he moved his hands to press hers more firmly to his face, before meeting her gaze and uttering, “Alright.” Her smile grew to its normal “for Colin” size. Using her hands on his cheeks to pull him closer, she pecked him on the cheek. When it landed uncomfortably close to the corner of his mouth, she just pushed forward and hugged him, whispering, “I’ll do my best. I promise,” as his arms returned her embrace. You are a fool, Penelope Featherington.

Pulling away he pressed a firm kiss to her cheek then the palm of one of her hands. “Thank you, Pen,” the sincerity plain in his eyes. She only smiled and nodded. She hated herself already, she hated him for making her do this.

He kept hold of her hand as she descended the steps he had hauled her onto. She paused once off the stairs, listening intently, making him pause to do the same. “Lord, what idiot requested an encore?” Wincing, she answered, “Probably my father, he and my mother are in a snit.” Chuckling at her barb, he nudged her with his elbow as he began to pull her by hand back to the parlor door, “We should get back in there then, show Marina some of that sisterly moral support you’ve learned from my family.” She feigned a frown as she snipped, “You’re a horrid horrid person, Colin Bridgerton.” He had to smother his laugh with his free hand, making her break her miffed facade with another “for Colin” smile.

Dropping her hand as they approached the door, a particularly questionably-keyed note distracted him from noticing how chilled his hands and cheeks felt.

Chapter Text

Did he compromise you?

No. But I suppose it looked that way.

Did mama send you there?

Oh, what a scandal. Do you think Whistledown will write about it? Of course she will. How could she not?

If she does–Prudence, if Whistledown writes the full story, it’s not some insult about our citrus dresses. It could ruin our family. It could ruin you. It could ruin Mama. We could be run out of town.

Oh my. You truly are jealous. If this was Mama’s doing there is no way Whistledown could know. Now my name will appear in Whistledown, and you…You will be just as you are now.

Prudence–

Ah-ah. I believe it is “Lady Featherington” now, to you.

Penelope could feel the blood pounding in her head, the aggravation and indignation threatening to explode out her mouth. She had to get out, at least to where no one could witness her vitriolic rage. Making a concerted effort to not stomp her feet as she paced down one of the hallways off the entrance hall. By the time the cool night air filled her lungs she hadn’t expended nearly enough of her ire so she began to walk.

Without conscious thought she found herself at the late viscount's effigy. Coming to stand before it properly, the cooling of her fury was almost a tangible sensation across Penelope's skin.

Penelope tried not to visit the site too often when she was visiting, not wanting to trespass on the Bridgertons' bereavement, and only when she was in particular need of centering or peaceful meditation. Not wanting to dirty her dress, Penelope elected to stand with her head bent, instead of kneeling like she would normally.

She didn’t get to sort much of her thoughts before the sound of someone entering the clearing broke her from her trance. “Miss Featherington?” Anthony’s quizzical call reached her before the viscount himself emerged from the tree line.

Embarrassed, having been caught here, Penelope didn’t know how to react at first, defaulting to curtseying. When she was upright again their eyes met for a moment before the bubble of formality broke and they both chuckled, postures relaxing.

Approaching her, Anthony questioned, “What are you doing here, Penelope? It’s practically dark out already.”

Blush returning, Penelope stammered, “O-oh, I’m sorry Anthony, I didn’t mean to impose. I'll let you in peace with your fathe–”

Hands raised placatingly, Anthony interrupted her departure, “No-no, Penelope. I don’t mean to oust you, I was just curious.”

“Oh…well…” glad to know Anthony wasn’t sending her away, Penelope was still at a loss as to explain her presence at the gravesite of someone who wasn’t her family member.

Smiling at her inner struggle, Anthony just walked over to stand next to her, facing his father’s grave. Bumping her arm with his elbow, he asked gently, “Do you come here often?”

Her anxiety soothed by his demeanor, Penelope admitted, “Not often but sometimes. When I need to think or calm down, as it were.”

At his raised eyebrow, Penelope elaborated, “My sister was caught alone with our cousin in the orange grove. They are now engaged.”

At his baffled expression, Penelope clarified, “My mother’s doing, I’m sure you could guess.” Anthony just nodded in understanding, “I see this does not sit well with you, does it?”

Huffing a frustrated sigh, Penelope said, “Not at all. I know it’s a good thing that Prudence should finally be engaged but it baffles me why it must come by such scandalously precarious means. Has my mother learned nothing from her dealings with Marina and Colin? Has she so little honor that she would meddle so? In the family home of her last intended victim no less? She’s puffed Prudence up so much, Prudence just told me I should be calling her ‘Lady Featherington’ from now on.”

“She’s not walked down the aisle yet,” Anthony pointed out.

“She doesn’t seem to be cognizant of that! Or if she is, she’s undeterred from taking her victory lap, no matter how premature it is. I hate this, Anthony! Why must everyone in my family play with such risky means that could ruin us all? Haven’t we lost enough? Hasn’t our reputation sunk far enough by now, it’d be better to go about these things honestly?” Penelope’s agitated hand waving grew so violent Anthony caught one of her hands and drew her to sit on one of the nearby benches. Leaning her head back against the bench’s wrought iron back, Penelope stared unseeingly into the night sky, not letting her frustrated tears escape. “I feel my chances of having a marriage based on honesty, respect, and love, slipping away with each passing day, and there’s nothing I can do about it.” Penelope’s voice dropped to a whisper then, “Even if Colin did come to return my affections, how could I, in good conscience, bring him into such a family?”

Turning her head to look at Anthony, Penelope lamented, “Surely I can’t actually be the most intelligent person in my family.”

“Sorry to say, sister mine, but Whistledown is probably right in that instance,” Anthony answered with regret.

Penelope groaned, “How am I to carry the weight of such responsibility?” Returning her gaze to the skies.

Sighing derisively, Anthony slumped to mimic her attitude, also gazing upwards, “Try hefting the same for 5 additional siblings.”

Penelope’s hand connected with his arm first before finding his, grasping it and laying them both on the bench between them, “I’m sorry. I know the burden you carry, the worries you harbor where no one can see.”

Tightening his hold on her hand, “Being a Bridgerton, I know how unnatural it seems for me to wish to forgo love in my marriage but–”

Penelope interrupted him, “You do not need to explain, Anthony, not to me. I understand your fears, I’ve seen the hollow look your mother sometimes has when she thinks no one is looking. You’ve done so well to support your family all these years, I can imagine the cost you’ve paid in doing so. I can certainly imagine the toll you envision would be visited upon your family, should you suffer a rended love match like your parents did…I am the last person who would begrudge you for avoiding such a gamble as love is want to be.”

Grateful for not having to defend his decisions, Anthony brought their joined hands to his chest, allowing them both to rest in the balm of their understanding.

Feeling her eyes on him, Anthony turned his head, his gaze meeting her studying one. Penelope gave him a small sad smile then said, “Miss Sharma the elder is quite lovely. She reminds me of you. Her inner fire. Her drive to prop up her family at the expense to herself.” Squeezing his hand in hers again, Penelope mumbled, “As much as I hate my mother’s shady machinations, I think I hate the loss you will be shackling yourself with more. I understand the decision before you, and I just wish, so desperately, that you could have love and your family’s security at the same time.”

Anthony stood abruptly, distancing himself from her so that she would not see the grieving tears he wiped away, even though she could well infer it by his arm’s motion. His eyes were dry but reddened when he turned back to her. Penelope stood then, her own eyes misting in her own sadness.

“We’re quite the pair. Both wanting love but both prevented from it. Me with no one to accept mine, and you with your chains of duty keeping you from yours.” Grimacing at the pain her words had blooming in his chest, Anthony just held his arm up and out for her to stand at his side.

Arm around her shoulders they both looked upon his father’s monument, “I’m so sorry, sister. For you and for me.” The pall of their shared grief seemed just as oppressive as when they were stood in his study in Bridgerton House. Doubly so for the fact that they were both resigning themselves to their fates, instead of just one of them. They stood in silence willing their tears to dry for awhile.

“I don’t suppose you’d agree to marry me?”

Penelope couldn’t suppress the burst of surprised laughter at his words, especially when she leaned slightly away from him to take in his affectionate jesting smile. Returning to her place under his arm, she answered, “Sorry, brother, but it would be an excruciating torture to actually be the sister of my love, whom only views me as such already, no matter how my heart calls out to him. It’s a pain I could not endure, even for you.”

Anthony only shrugged, “That’s fair.” The silence returned but lighter than before. 

“Brother?” He hummed in acknowledgement but physically turned to her when she didn’t continue right away.

Holding his gaze, Penelope asked, “Should I ever be made to marry…can I ask…will you be there? For me?” Anthony tilted his head in askance. “I need to have at least one person there that will actually understand what I would be losing. One person to which that would matter.”

Sadness and resignation played across his face before he pulled her into a commiserating hug, “If you will be there for me.” With her nod they lapsed into silence again.

---------

Violet Bridgerton was curled up in bed, head on her husband’s pillow, reading from his favorite book when she heard a knock at her door. Donning her house coat again, she opened the door, eyebrows shooting up in her surprise at finding her eldest standing there. The lone candlestick he held, illuminating his weary face in the dark of the hallway. “Anthony? Dearest, what is it?”

Meeting his mother’s curious eyes, Anthony said, “Mother, I need your help with something. Can you accompany me to the carriage house? Right now?”

Brow furrowing, Violet only nodded, before going to fetch some outdoor slippers from her wardrobe. As she sat to put them on, Anthony forestalled any questions, “It will be quick. It’s for Penelope.” This only spawned more questions, for Violet knew of only one thing in the carriage house that could be for Penelope but Anthony did not elaborate further.

She was made more confused when Anthony led her to the guest wing instead of one of the exits. She almost protested when Anthony motioned for her to be silent and stand at one of the hallway junctions, but his pleading expression had her acquiescing. Having left his candlestick on one of the side boards he’d pass when they returned, he made his way in the dark towards the door she knew led to Penelope’s room. It was fortuitous they had decided against having the two Featherington sisters share a room this visit, allowing the Sharma sisters to take the double bedded suite instead, for only Penelope was awoken when Anthony knocked. When the young lady opened the door she was still rubbing sleep from her eyes, Violet was almost surprised by the silent exchange that followed her son’s silencing gesture, unaware that the two were close enough to be able to communicate so, before remembering that afternoon in the study at their town house.

Anthony pointed to his booted feet. Put on outdoor shoes.

Then a tilted nod. And come with me.

Penelope only smiled curiously, nodded, then went to get her outdoor slippers.

A minute later she was closing her door silently and Anthony was leading her to where Violet stood waiting, candle light just out of view of the other doors nearby. Wanting to be scandalized by the implied trust she was seeing on display in the dead of night, Violet still couldn’t help but smile at the shy one the daughter of her heart bestowed on her. They both turned questioning eyes to Anthony, who only smiled softly and moved to lead them back down the hallway and towards the exit closest to the carriage house. Gesturing to her to leave her candlestick with his on the staircase side board, Violet did so then entwined Penelope’s arm with hers. Despite the mysteriousness of their journey, the trio were content in their silence and each other's company, way lit by the bright summer moon.

Once ensconced in the carriage house, Anthony lit one of the carriage lanterns and brought it to shine on the interior of the carriage Violet usually used. Motioning her to step closer, Penelope trustingly did so and took his arm, waiting for him to explain.

Speaking lowly, almost loath to break the atmosphere with his voice, Anthony said, “I want you to have something, sister. So you will always remember where you belong.” Handing his mother the lantern, Anthony removed the bench cover, while Violet wrapped her arm around Penelope’s shoulder, now understanding why they were here.

Penelope glanced to Violet before looking to see what was in the storage compartment. She was baffled at the sight of a stack of dresses, what she assumed were undergarments, gloves, and stockings, dresses in Bridgerton blue, the rest embroidered with the family crest. At her expression Violet stepped in to explain, “Do you remember the Tuxford Ball last season, Penelope? Miss Cowper seemed exceptionally incapable with her beverage glasses?”

Penelope grimaced, Cressida had “accidentally” spilled her drink on Penelope’s dress three times, the last two timed carefully to occur right when she had just started to dry off, to the snickering delight of Cressida’s followers. She had asked her mother to borrow the carriage to go home, but her mother refused, saying she would dry off eventually and she should take the opportunity to drum up more sympathy from the eligible men present, make the most of her clumsiness. Not Cressida’s clumsiness, her, Penelope’s. Colin did ask her to dance a few minutes later, when she re-entered the ballroom, having excused herself to dab as much of the excess fluid as she could with the napkins in one of the comfort rooms. As usual, he was the only one. Instead of rehashing one of the most humiliating nights of her life, Penelope just nodded, she did remember.

Violet continued, “I overheard what your mother said…and I must say, I did not like a word of it. I knew then, like I know now, I am not your mother,” Penelope took her hand at this, giving it an affectionate squeeze. They all knew Violet was more a mother to her than Portia could honorably claim, save for actually having birthed her. Violet squeezed her hand in return before going on, “but I’m just as enraged by the memory as I was when it happened. I know that dress was one of the few you actually liked to wear, that you felt pretty in, and it was ruined. My anger stayed with me through the night and even into my errands the next day. When I passed Madame Delacoix’s I decided to be prepared to step in for you should it happen again. I commissioned a skeleton wardrobe for you and have kept it in the carriage, just in case.” This shocked Penelope, eyes going to said wardrobe, then Anthony’s gentle expression, then back to meeting Violet’s gaze, “I’m happy you’ve never had to use it.” Penelope only nodded.

Taking her other hand, Anthony met her gaze, “I think maybe you should take this with you. Alot will be changing with your sister’s engagement and I know you don’t get along. I want you to have something of us in those moments when you need support the most but, in all honesty, I know your blood relations will not see fit to give.”

Looking at the garments longingly, knowing Violet knew well how to make her feel beautiful, Penelope still hesitated, “I shan’t think my mother would let me wear any of it.”

Running her fingers over Penelope’s loose curls comfortingly, Violet stated, “I will tell your mother it is the family’s birthday present to you that we keep forgetting to give you.” Placated by Violet’s words and Anthony’s determined expression, Penelope nodded her acceptance.

Embracing Violet, Penelope mumbled through her bubbling emotions, “Thank you.”

Anthony’s smile widened as she turned to hug him too. They stayed that way for a moment, her head against his chest, his cheek resting on her crown. Running his hands over her upper arms Anthony pulled away saying, “Come, let’s get these back to your room before someone finds us and I’ll be obliged to say I caught you and Mother setting up to prank Colin.” Violet scoffed and Penelope chuckled at this.

Between the three of them it was nothing to transport the clothing, Violet even helping pack them away in Penelope’s trunk in such a way as to still allow room for the things Penelope had arrived with. One last silent hug good night from each of them, Violet and Anthony left Penelope to her slumber, retrieving their candlesticks on their way back to the family wing.

Violet caressed her son’s cheek as he simply said, “Thank you mother.” Not dallying after escorting her back to her room.

Before closing the door, Anthony met his mother's sad gaze, "Don't worry mother, I know what I must do." His expression looked serene but more brittle the longer she looked at him. With a nod, Anthony closed the door.

Chapter Text

Penelope was amidst a polite conversation with Cousin Jack when a great splash pulled everyone's attention to the lake. Seeing Anthony pop up from the water's surface Penelope made her way with Colin and Benedict to help him onto the dock and check that he was alright.

Seeing him rather waterlogged and put out, Penelope had to bite her tongue to withhold her laughter. Especially when she heard Miss Edwina ask, teasing lilting her tone, "Oh my! Are you hurt?"

His expression turned irate when Benedict cheekily said, "Brother, I didn’t know you had a hankering to go swimming." Colin copied his bent posture to take their sodden brother’s hands, as he added, “Yeah, we could have gone home to get our swimming costumes.”

Anthony’s peeved gaze locked with Penelope’s sympathetic one, before a wicked idea occurred to her. Turning to see where their mothers were, Penelope took a furtive step closer to the brothers, ostensibly to smile apologetically at the Sharma sisters. When Miss Edwina turned to look questioningly at her sister when Miss Sharma said, “Come now, it’s not polite to stare,” Penelope struck.

Simultaneously kicking at Colin’s heel and poking Benedict in his weight bearing calf with her parasol, she tried not to laugh too soon, hearing both brothers’ cries of outrage as they tumbled into the lake themselves. Affecting a surprised expression, Penelope definitely did not sweep her skirts ostentatiously as she turned around to see Colin and Benedict popping up from under the water’s surface. Penelope’s conspiratorial smirk met Anthony’s proud grin quickly before they both turned their attention to the newly refreshed pair.

Pushing his wet fringe from his forehead, Benedict cried, “Penelope Featherington, did you just push me into a lake?!?!”

Brow furrowing in feigned confusion, Penelope replied, “Why would I ever do such a thing, Mr. Bridgerton?” Anthony glanced away to hide his grin.

Colin and Benedict shared an outraged glance before, in a flash, Benedict lunged at Anthony pushing him under, while Colin lunged for the dock, snagging Penelope’s skirts and, with a most undignified screech, she joined them in the water.

Pushing Benedict away Anthony emerged, a huge grin and uproarious laughter replacing his peeved countenance from before, at the state of himself and his siblings, his brother quick to join him. Anthony nodded jovially at Dorset as the latter made his way to the shoreline, which Thomas bemusedly returned. He was unsure he had ever seen the Viscount laugh at himself or be this joyous in the entire time he had known Anthony.

When Penelope emerged, she yelled, amidst her own laughter, “Colin Bridgerton, did you just pull me into a lake?!?!”

All cheeky grin, Colin quipped, “Eye for an eye, Penelope Featherington.” To which she huffed an exaggerated ‘oof,’ before she splashed him in the face. At his sputtering, she broke into laughter of her own, though her triumph was dampened as she caught a splash of her own when she turned towards Anthony and Benedict. In a split second they were all laughing, and yelling, and splashing at each other.

An authoritative exclaimed, “Children!,” had them all snapping to attention and facing an irate Lady Violet Bridgerton, hands on her hips, standing over them on the dock. To which the brothers bowed and Penelope curtseyed in contrition, calling in unison, “Sorry mama!” Penelope realized what she said a moment after, as all Bridgertons turned bemused smiles at her. Stunned with her embarrassment, she only relaxed when she saw Lady Bridgerton’s expression turn soft and affectionate. Noticing both the Miss Sharmas still standing on the dock, Lady Bridgerton was quick to turn to them and tell them, “I must apologize, Miss Sharma and Miss Edwina, for the misconduct of my children, they can be quite raucous when left to their own devices.”

Sharing an offended glance the quartet were quick to snatch Violet by her skirts and pull her into the lake too. When the Viscountess emerged from the water’s depths she said nothing as she began to splash at her children, and thus the water fight began anew. They were already calming and laughing tiredly, run out of steam, when Lady Featherington finally ran onto the dock and squawked, “Penelope Anne Featherington, what on Earth do you think you’re doing?!”

Penelope paled at the sight of her mother but Violet quickly wrapped her arm around her shoulder and said, “My apologies, Portia, the boys got a little out of hand and Penelope was caught in the crossfire.” Noticing Penelope’s wilting expression, the brothers were quick to bow at Lady Featherington and say, “We’re very sorry, Lady Featherington.” Portia seemed very pleased at having the Bridgerton contingent demuring to her so she replied, “Yes…well…apology accepted, do be careful with our dear Penelope in the future.” The brothers, as well as their mother, fought not to roll their eyes at her feigned concern for her youngest. Before Portia could say anything, Violet spoke again, “Come you rascals, we best make for home and a nice change of clothes. I’ll convey you home in our carriage, Penelope.”

Deeming her motherly duties discharged, Lady Featherington returned to Prudence’s side, not even checking if Penelope was alright, to the Bridgerton’s irked displeasure. Once they were all on dry land again, they all took one look at each other’s sodden appearance and broke out into poorly concealed snickers. Sunny mood restored their mama took Penelope’s arm with hers and began the trek back to the carriages, Colin falling into step with Penelope.

Anthony blushed in embarrassment as Miss Edwina met him at the water's edge. He caught Miss Sharma biting away her grin but his fiancée was beaming at him and it made him inexplicably bashful, so he apologized immediately, “I beg your pardon, Miss Edwina, my family and I aren’t often so indecorous.”

Waving away his apology, Edwina just smiled warmly, “No apologies necessary, my lord. Truly, it was lovely to see you interacting with your family in such a way. It only makes me think better of you. Come, I will accompany you, perhaps the sun is strong enough to dry you some what for the carriage ride.” When he offered his arm and she took it before realizing he was still quite sopping, they shared a chuckle as he stepped away from her again.

Glaring at Benedict’s cheeky grin they both pulled off their jackets to wring as much water from them as possible. Not bothering to try to wrestle the jacket back on, Anthony just draped it over his forearm before turning back to Edwina. He tried not to noticeably preen when he saw both Edwina’s and Kate’s gazes locked on his torso through his currently translucent shirt. Smiling politely, Anthony cleared his throat, and both their gazes snapped up to his face. He couldn’t help but smirk as they both averted their gazes at having been caught.

Anthony kept his gaze on Edwina’s bashful smile, even as he tried not to notice Thomas Dorset step up to Kate’s side. Group assembled they began their trek back to the carriages, all ignoring the curious or heated stares from various parties along the way.

Taking stock of his family, Anthony glanced ahead to see Penelope ambling with his mother and Colin. Kate caught the affectionate expression on his face and followed the path of his gaze, remembering the young woman’s mother posturing vainly on the dock, she commented, “I was unaware you had another sister, Lord Bridgerton.”

Anthony’s gaze snapped to hers. Seeing Dorset and Edwina caught the expression still on his face, Anthony opted for honesty. “No, indeed. The younger Miss Featherington is our sister Eloise’s long time best friend. In the course of their association she has become endeared to our whole family, we adore her very much.”

Sharing a gentle smile with his older brother, Benedict added, “In all honesty, she really is like our fifth sister. With our sister Francesca in Scotland for her schooling with our aunt, I would guesstimate they spend about the same amount of time in our home.”

Dorset chimed in laughingly, “She’s certainly picked up the Bridgerton penchant for cheeky pranks.”

Anthony couldn’t help chuckling himself but only nodded.

Looking towards the young woman in question, Edwina said, “She spoke to me briefly at Lady Danbury’s Social Evening that one night, she seemed very nice but very shy. She took me for jesting when I complimented her gown.”

Both Bridgerton brothers frowned at this, Anthony’s gaze dropped to the ground as he explained, “I am unsurprised. As you probably observed by her conduct on the dock, Lady Featherington is not the most…‘doting’ of mothers to Penelope. I believe she is quite used to being looked down on.”

Benedict shook his head in disapproval, while he picked up after his brother, “She is often made to wear the most heinous gowns in the most glaring colors. They never flatter her, neither in cut nor color, and what’s worse is she knows it.”

Nodding in agreement, Anthony said, “She is lovely in every way. I just wish she could have one ball where she can wear what she wants and feel she looks beautiful. She has no one of her blood that sees any value in her, and it’s a damn shame.” Anthony had to pause to collect himself and quell his anger, so Benedict patted his brother’s shoulder before finishing for him, “We try to love and support her, build her up, while she’s with us, but we know it all comes crashing down the second she steps into Featherington House.”

At their silence, Kate ventured to tease, “You speak so lovingly of her, I’m surprised one of you hasn’t married her.” Both brothers gave a synchronized pained chuckle.

Anthony turned his gaze to the green ahead, the cloud of his anger cut through by Kate’s words. His expression turned affectionate again, as he watched Penelope laughing with Colin, “Our sister’s heart is well settled already, though the gentleman remains ignorant of the voracity or enduring nature of her affections. We still hope he may come to see what lays right in front of him. She knows we all hope with her.”

A touch to his forearm prompted him to meet Edwina’s kind gaze, “I should like to meet her properly if the opportunity arises.”

Anthony nodded, as he smiled and said, “I’m sure she’d like that.” Out of the corner of his eye he registered Miss Sharma’s soft expression but forced away the warmth it made him feel.

Forcing his posture to remain loose, Anthony continued, “In fact, we expect her for tea tomorrow, I’m sure my mother would gladly have you and Miss Sharma for a visit, and your mother as well, if she be available. For that matter, you ought to visit too, Dorset. Colin is just returned from his tour, I’m sure he’d like to commiserate, and the youngers would gladly listen to you tell tales of your travels.”

Smiling amiably, Dorset answered, “I’d be delighted to attend, it’s been quite some time since I saw your family last. I’m tempted to say your baby brother was just out of leading strings.”

Anthony nodded in agreement, “That sounds right. I should warn you, our baby sister is quite a charmer, best have your wits about you. She wrangled two prized ponies out of my brother in law in the space of an hour.”

Chuckling, Dorset nodded and replied, “Noted. I will see you all tomorrow then.”

Bowing and curtseying around, they bid him goodbye. Crossing the last few yards to his family’s carriage, Anthony didn’t allow himself to meet Miss Sharma’s gaze when he felt it on him. Taking Edwina’s hand he pressed a kiss to it and bid her farewell, only allowing himself a glance at Miss Sharma as he nodded to her and turned to the carriage.

Feeling her stare like a tangible touch, Anthony’s gaze dropped to the ground in indecision, settling for a small glimpse at her from the corner of his eye. Her expression was assessing but not judgmental, decidedly softer than he had ever seen it.

Kate knew he was looking back at her, though the majority of his gaze was trained on the ground. She knew now she had been wrong about him, he believed in love, true and honest love. He knew it and was capable of it. Before she could do anything…not that there was anything for her to do or should do, she watched as Miss Featherington caught his hand without looking. Even in profile she could easily read their sad-concerned expressions for each other when their eyes met, though their expressions morphed into small understanding-affectionate smiles a second later. She only turned away once the Viscount handed Miss Featherington into the carriage, entered himself, and closed the door behind him. She pretended the warmth in her heart was from her sister’s bright joyful smile and not the memory of the viscount playing with his siblings, so light and carefree.

---------

Colin and Benedict had taken the seats beside Penelope in the carriage, essentially sandwiching her between them in retaliation for tipping them into the lake. Anthony smiled sympathetically at her every so often, as she struggled not to lean too much into Colin’s warm side pressed against her.

When the carriage finally rolled to a stop in front of Featherington House, Anthony hopped out first to be the one to see her to her front door.

Neither spoke, not feeling the need to fill the companionable silence. When they reached her door, they regarded each other for a moment, then Penelope said, “I hope you have more days like today in your future, brother.” Scanning the view from her front door and seeing no people to catch them and call scandal, Anthony embraced Penelope and dropped a kiss to her forehead. They shared a warm smile as Anthony replied, “I hope the same for you, sister dear.”