Chapter Text
Happy Birthday. Penelope thinks to herself as she wakes up alone. 37 today.
She gets up and wanders down to the kitchen, not bothering to get out of her night dress and into a day dress first.
She silently makes herself breakfast and silently moves to the dining room to eat it.
The house is empty but for her and feels big. Too big. She often thinks of leaving but still hasn’t made the move. She is keeping it in the family until Philippa’s son is old enough to come asking for it.
This is her first birthday without her mother. Portia passed away 4 months earlier, leaving Penelope alone. Prudence had managed to find a husband shortly before the news broke that Penelope was Lady Whistledown and she and Philippa had kept their distance since, leaving Penelope – a bigger outcast than ever before – to tend to their mother alone.
Portia had nearly cast Penelope out on the street when she heard the news. “YOU’VE RUINED US!” she can still hear her mother screeching. Then Penelope revealed how much money she had made from the scandal sheets and Portia was much less upset.
So for years it had just been the two of them. No staff wanted to be associated with their name and Varley had retired, then passed, a couple of years prior to the unmasking.
There is a knock at the door. Penelope ignores it.
There is another knock. Then another.
Curiosity gets the better of her and she heads to the door, not caring that she is not at all presentable.
“Mr Bridgerton!” she says in surprise.
“Miss Featherington.” Benedict Bridgerton says, taking off his hat and dipping into a bow.
As he straightens up, she notices that his hair has started to grey but his eyes are as youthful as ever.
“I arrived back in town yesterday and I was sorry to hear about your mother, I wanted to share my condolences.” He explains.
“That’s very kind. Thank you.”
They lapse into silence.
“I’d invite you in, but I’m not really ready for visitors.” She apologises.
“Can I call back later today? It would be good to catch up.” He asks.
“Sure. Yes. Thank you. That would be nice.”
They make arrangements and she closes the door.
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Benedict doesn’t know it’s her birthday, but he does know she’s all alone in that house and having lived the life of a loner himself for several years now he wants to provide her with some company. He probably needs the company too, honestly.
After finding out that Anthony had paid his way into the Academy, Benedict dropped out and went on a years long bender, wandering around Europe drinking and whoring around, painting occasionally, throwing those paintings into rivers in a rage, etc. While the rest of his siblings returned to London and dutifully married and began families, Benedict was nowhere to be found. Even Colin’s wandering had ended after he married the Diamond of a season.
He had finally returned home yesterday and now he finds himself searching out the other lost soul of London.
__
He arrives promptly at 2pm, as agreed. He has a bouquet of flowers in one hand and some pastries in the other.
Penelope opens the door, now dressed in a dark blue dress but with her hair still loose. Benedict feels an unexpected pang as he takes her in. She looks sad, but still beautiful.
She shows him in. There is no worry about chaperones or scandals at this point. She is fully on the shelf, and no one pays her any mind these days. She could ride around town on the back of an elephant and no one would look her way.
“Oh, Mr Bridgerton, thank you so much, they’re beautiful.” Penelope sniffs the flowers and closes her eyes and Benedict feels that twinge again.
She leads him the drawing room, which he notices has a few layers of dust building up and shows him to a seat. “I’ll be back in a moment.” She says, taking the pastries from him.
She returns promptly with the pastries carefully arranged on a plate and sets it down between them.
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Benedict fills her in on his travels and his family. After Eloise married and moved north and Colin married someone else, someone younger, skinnier, and more beautiful than Penelope, she had retreated from her close relationship with the Bridgertons. After her unmasking she had withdrawn from society, widening the gap between her and her former friends.
Penelope has little to update in response. She doesn’t hear from her sisters, and she rarely speaks to anyone at all. But she loves hearing Benedict’s stories and watching how animated he becomes as he recreates his adventures. She notices that his eyes shine with excitement just like Colin’s used to and she quickly buries the thought. Colin Bridgerton is long behind her now.
She and Benedict are so lost in conversation that they don’t initially realise that the sun is setting, and the room is darkening.
“Oh my! I am supposed to be at Mother’s for supper!” Benedict says, jumping to his feet. Penelope feels her heart crash to the floor. She has so been enjoying his company and now she realises she’s headed for another night alone. She’d almost forgotten.
“You must join us!” He says.
“It’s a very kind invitation, Mr Bridgerton, but your mother is not expecting me, and I have not seen the Dowager Viscountess in some time, it would be very rude of me to arrive so unexpectedly.”
“Nonsense! You’re coming!” Benedict demands.
He waits while Penelope goes upstairs to better present herself for dinner. It’s been so long, too long.
She catches a glimpse of herself in a mirror as she goes to meet him in her foyer and thinks to herself Maybe this is a Happy Birthday after all.