Chapter Text
Dear Colin,
I write this letter under the flickering light of the fire beside me. Colin, I wish I could tell you how often thoughts of you are flooding my senses, I wish I could tell you how I fall asleep most only to thoughts of you. But that is not my lot, my lot is to observe you from a distance, and so I shall accept that. I write this letter so that no matter what happens, whoever I marry, I will remember my first love.
Most Sincerely,
Stranger
Penelope set her quill down on her desk and stared at the letter. She’d thought long and hard about how to phrase it even though she really had no intentions on sending it. She took special measures to make sure that the handwriting didn’t match her own incase Eloise were to ever find it. Though since she’d have found it in Penelope’s room, she didn’t know how much good that would actually do. Still it was a weight off Pen's shoulders to finally put down on paper this overwhelming feeling that she’d been carrying alone for 7 years now. She slipped the paper into her pocket and sighed, now she had business to attend to. Afterall, Lady Whistledown wasn’t going to run herself!
Pen continued her usual routine of dawning servant's garb and sneaking down the back stairs, desperately hoping that she could avoid alerting her mother. That normally was the easy part, after all Portia wasn’t well known for being attentive to her third daughter. As she slipped out of Featherinton House and onto the pavement she glanced around nervously several times, and even if you didn’t know Penelope, if you looked closely enough she didn’t exactly look innocent. But no one ever seemed to look at Penelope closely enough, so just as it had for many months, this part of the journey went off without a hitch. As they passed Bridgerton house, Penelope glanced wistfully at the closed front door. She knew she was welcome, Anytime, for any reason, the new Viscountess Bridgerton had told her on multiple occasions, but now that Eloise and Colin were gone from inside she visited less and less. The memories of days running around with Eloise and watching from the sidelines as Colin sang with his brothers always haunted her at the sight of the place.
She was so lost in her reminiscing, she almost didn’t notice that Colin was stepping out of the doors. Keyword there being almost, because the day Penelope’s eyes were able to keep themselves from registering Colin’s presence would surely be the end of the word. So as any proper and sensible young lady would do, she ducked. It was in no way graceful, and Penelope was almost sure that she’d felt the carriage shake at the sheer force of it, but she could take the odd looks people may be giving the carriage just as long as Colin did not see her. When she finally got the courage to sit up normally they were well and truly out of Mayfair and were most likely mere minutes from the city.
She breathed a heavy sigh as the cart bumped along the road which was gradually getting less and less paved and she found herself carefully gripping the door of the carriage. Even though she made this journey quite a few more times than was proper for any young gentlelady (Truthfully even once was probably too many times), a very privileged part of her never truly got used to the way her body was nearly thrown from its seat over and over. She clutched her other hand to her dress, feeling around to ensure that everything was where it was meant to be; The Whistledown Article was tucked near the top of the dress and the completely irrelevant other letter was tucked into her cloak. Good, she thought to herself, everything is perfectly fine. Her breathing sped up as they approached the printers. Ever since The Queen had nearly caught her, this was her least favorite part of the whole ordeal. She rather despised being outsmarted and she knew she wouldn’t let it happen again even if it meant traveling a bit further into town to find a loyal printer with good keepers of secrets.
Penelope stepped out of the carriage holding the hood on her cloak as her feet clicked down the pavement. She stepped into a small print shop and everyone seemed to stand up a little straighter, they knew what her presence meant. The owner shooed away his lesser employers and stood leaning harshly against the counter nearest to him.
“Got another issue ‘der?” The man asked roughly. Pen knew what her best friend’s older brothers would do if they heard this man talking to her like that, in a way she liked that. She liked the knowledge that they would defend her, and the way she felt free and powerful because she knew they wouldn't have to.
“My mistress expects the usual deal.” Penelope responded with grit that could’ve rivalved the grown man in front of her.
“Nothing more, nothing less.” The man nodded, opting to move from his leaning to instead cross his arms. He reached under the counter and placed a small bag of money on the counter as Penelope slid the Whistledown issue his way.
“Say, where d’ya find your delivery boys?” Penelope wasn’t sure why she asked at first, what business would she have talking to those, well frankly, those children.
“Looking to poach em’!” The man’s expression turned rather dark for a moment, and Penelope felt a chill of fear creeping up her neck.
“Just one, Mistress’ personal business.” Penelope hid her nerves with well practiced coolness.
“Alright, down the alley right to the right of the building, don’t take any of da tall ones, we got lotsa deliveries today.” Penelope nodded, the tone in his voice was commanding, and yet she very nearly laughed as she could sense a bit of comradery between the harshness.
She didn’t wish to prolong her time spent in the shop to minimize the chances that anyone she knew would see her. Truthfully the chances of that were already so close to nil that thirty extra seconds would hardly have done anything, but she still had one more thing to do before returning home and even if her mother didn’t notice her absence. Eloise would surely come to call upon her, or send a note, and then the whole of both families would be looking for her. Walking down the dirty streets, people gave her some sideways glances, a much more perceptive bunch than the Ton to be sure. They seemed to be acutely aware that she should not be here, they just didn’t know the reason, nor did they actually care. Penelope trodded on while she continued to hang on tightly to her hood. The driver of the hack she hired gave her an annoyed glance so she reached into her cloak and waved the bag of money in his face, this quickly shut him up.
Penelope saw a group of young boys that all looked quite skinny, too skinny, it pained her inside, knowing that they would never be privy to even a sliver of the childhood she’d had. If she’d had the riches, she would throw it at them frivolously and buy them bread by the stone, but for now all she could do was offer them her business. She approached a group of boys who had tried desperately not to acknowledge her, most likely thinking they were in some kind of trouble.
“Which one of you lads will be in Mayfair delivering tomorrow?” Pen asked, and the boys seemed to soften as they turned to actually look at her.
“All of us ma’am.” An older one, still only maybe fifteen, pointed around the small group of boys.
“Perfect. You.” She pointed to a smaller boy that was holding what looked to be an infant in his arms, “Deliver this to Number 5 Bruton Street.” Before she could even really process what she had just asked the boy to do, she had pulled the small slip of paper with Colin’s name printed across it out of her cloak and handed it to the boy.
“But Ma’am I’ve gotta buy stuff for my brother while I’m there, and I’ve got other deliveries to do-” Penelope cut the boy off with a curt wave of her hand.
“You’ll receive plenty of money for the job, and it will become a regular occurence. What could your brother use more? Those few deliveries, or my steady payment for your services?” Penelope looked at the boy smugly. She knew the look of someone who’d do anything for their family, it was a lot of why she had begun to fancy Colin in the first place, and she knew this kid had it. Plus she was almost positive that Violet Bridgerton would insist on at least giving the kid a meal.
“Do you mind if my brother is with me? My mother has fallen ill and I am-” Again Penelope silenced the boy. The boy’s friends looked between him and Penelope waiting for what Penelope would say next, hoping that it would be another opportunity for some money.
“Bring him, that has nothing to do with me, as long as you get the job done. Come with me for a moment.” She motioned to the boy and he followed her just slightly out of the alleyway. “This is your payment, I expect to find you here every other day. If you don’t see me by half twelve then I’m not coming and you shouldn't worry, if anyone asks who sent you, just tell them it was a Lady who refused to give you her name. Finally, keep that money and don’t share it with your friends, this is for you and him.” She smiled sweetly down at the small human squirming in his brother’s arms.
“Thank you, Ma’am.” The boy smiled in the way all boys that age should, carelessly and sloppily.
“It’s the least I could do for you. Be well, you are very integral to me now.” Penelope patted the young boy on the shoulder one more time before turning away. She walked back to the hack with a weird sense of dread and accomplishment. She’d just done a good thing. Right?