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The revelation of Lady Whistledown’s identity brings Anthony little interest.
This indifference is unusual, he knows; a change in perspective brought on by his marriage. Since Kate, many matters which once held great importance have been rendered frivolous in his mind. The threat of Whistledown is among them.
When Cressida Cowper declares herself, Anthony knows that she is lying, but he doesn’t care enough to pay her any attention. He is mostly vexed that she interrupted the announcement that Kate is expecting. Then, he is distracted by Miss Featherington collapsing, concerned for his brother’s bride.
He is very pleased about Colin’s choice in wife. While Anthony does not know Penelope well, he has always thought highly of her. He has pitied her, a sensible girl trapped within a ridiculous family. He has appreciated her ability to occupy meddlesome Eloise. He understands that his mother adores her. He recognises that Colin is in love.
Anthony feels very fortunate to be acquiring a new sister in Penelope; a rare reasonable aunt for his child. Strangely, he finds that this sentiment is not diminished in the slightest by the letter he receives from her, two weeks after her wedding.
He reads the letter in its entirety three times before her confession settles in.
Then, he laughs.
“Kate!” Anthony calls, rising from his chair. “Kate, you must read this… I have received the most astounding letter…”
A letter to which he is having an odd reaction, he realises. He can imagine the flailing indignation that might have consumed him upon learning this news at a different point in his life. The vision makes him want to laugh again. If he were a more introspective man, he might think to thank his wife for her calming influence.
Had Anthony discovered Whistledown’s identity before he was married, he suspects he would have resented the sense of pride he feels. Of all the people to defy the ton so cleverly, for it to be the mistreated, underestimated Penelope Featherington… he knows Kate will be very amused. He is eager to tell her.
Indeed, Kate provides an entertaining reaction. She gasps as she reads the letter, her elegant fingers flying to her mouth. She gazes at Anthony, wide-eyed.
“Well!” she exclaims. “I suppose we now know what troubled Colin on the evening before his wedding.”
“I’m impressed he held his silence with us,” Anthony says, joining her on the settee. “Irksome as it was at the time, it signifies his devotion. He will be a good husband.”
“Indeed he will be. Very loyal.”
“He has always been the loyal sort. Everybody in the family is.”
“How fortunate, for Penelope’s sake,” Kate says, smiling. “I must say, I’m very impressed with her.”
Anthony grins. “I knew you would be. That is why I rushed to tell you.”
“I know what it is like to be an unseen wallflower. It makes sense she could get away with such an endeavour. But for her to pursue something so bold, despite her disempowered situation, and to execute it with such cleverness, such finesse…” Kate trails off, shaking her head thoughtfully. “Our new sister is quite extraordinary.”
It has become unusual to see Kate looking wistful, amidst their happy days together. Anthony is quiet in his consideration of her, as he recalls her brusque attitude about her life prospects, the previous year. In the ballrooms, she was steadfast on the sidelines. He believed it was out of dedication to finding a husband for her sister, but he now realises there were other reasons for her reticence. As fierce as she is, it is difficult to fathom.
Then again, Kate was already a grown woman by the time Anthony met her, established in herself. He has little trouble conjuring an image of a teenage Kate at a dance, lanky, nervous, unaware of her beauty, sticking to walls to avoid gentlemen.
Anthony swallows. He knows that he cannot relate; he has never thought twice about taking up space, about making his opinion known. Certainly, he has had moments of wishing he could disappear and abandon his responsibilities, but he understands that there is a significant difference between his fits of self-pity and the plight of a woman deemed a spinster.
“Yes. Well, I am relieved Colin noticed as much. Even if it took him far longer than it should have.”
Several days later, the family gathers at Bridgerton House for tea. Upon her arrival, Penelope releases Colin’s arm and rushes to greet Kate and Anthony. Her face is warm with gratitude and empathy as she clasps Kate’s hands. Kate is beaming before Penelope can speak, pulling her in for a tight embrace.
“I take it Kate’s letter was superior to mine, then,” Anthony says. “I’d be offended if my competition weren’t so extreme.”
Penelope smiles at him from behind Kate’s shoulder. “Not at all, Lord Bridgerton. I was very touched by your response. Thank you for your understanding.”
“Anthony, if you please. We are family now. There is no need for formality.”
“You’ll soon discover there is little formality within our family,” Kate adds, squeezing her arm around Penelope. “I’m certain you’ll feel completely at home in no time at all.”
Morning tea is a pleasant, bustling affair. With so many family members present, it is a rowdy group. Anthony imagines that is why his mother insisted on them taking their tea in the garden, in the hopes that the wide open space might muffle their volume. There is no chance of that, when voices are raised to address specific siblings across the long table, when there is laughter on every side.
Kate and Penelope sit together, chatting with happy animation. Anthony means to eavesdrop on them, but he keeps getting swept up in arguing with Eloise about the rules of a card game that has become Gregory and Hyacinth’s latest obsession. As to why he cares so much, he can never understand in hindsight. His grip on sensibility is slack, when it comes to squabbling with his siblings.
It isn’t until Lady Whistledown is mentioned that Kate and Penelope are drawn into the wider conversation.
“Might I ask you something about Lady Whistledown, Penelope?” Hyacinth blurts.
A charged pause overcomes the table. Colin bristles, but Penelope shakes her head, offering her youngest sister-in-law an encouraging smile.
“Of course not. Ask away, Hyacinth.”
Hyacinth stares, her eyes twinkling with disbelief. Anthony can understand. It is difficult enough to accept that the formidable Whistledown has been unmasked, let alone that she is Penelope Bridgerton, sitting primly at this very table, the picture of affability and innocence. There are daisies embroidered on her dress, for heaven’s sake.
“Now that everybody knows…” Hyacinth says, slowly. “Are you going to sign off with your true name, or continue using the Whistledown alias?”
“I haven’t considered that,” Penelope admits, looking thoughtful. “In truth, I haven’t considered the future of my column very much at all.”
“But you will continue it, won’t you?” Hyacinth asks. “It would be such a shame for it to end before I’m even allowed to start reading it!”
Violet flushes. “It was nothing against your writing, Penelope, dear – ”
“I understand,” Penelope assures Violet, smiling graciously. “Hyacinth is quite young to be exposed to the torrid details of London society.”
“Oh, I am sure that Hyacinth is perfectly aware,” Violet says, wryly. “She is an avid fan of Whistledown.”
Penelope whirls on Hyacinth, her face glowing. “Is that so?”
“Everybody in the ton is, whether they want to admit it or not,” Colin says, his smile wide. “You should not be so surprised by admiration.”
“Really, you must continue it!” Hyacinth insists.
The blush on Penelope’s face is unmistakable. “Thank you, Hyacinth, Colin. I do intend to continue writing Whistledown. Of course, it will require significant revisions, both in content and tone. I do not wish to write so frankly, particularly without a pseudonym.”
“That is very reasonable, Penelope,” Anthony remarks. He is impressed by her dignity in the face of her mistakes; he knows how difficult it is to manage one’s flaws with grace.
Violet nods in agreement. “I am very excited to read your new work. I can only imagine how wonderful it will be, now that you can be your true self.”
“I, for one, hope you don’t soften your approach entirely,” Kate says. “I found Whistledown very helpful last season, when I was choosing eligible suitors for Edwina. How else could I have known to avoid Anthony?”
There is an eruption of laughter down the table. Anthony frowns, uncertain what Kate is referring to. He looks between the faces of his family members, seeking an explanation, but none come. His mother looks bemused. Penelope is blushing again. Kate is smirking. Francesca’s mouth is ajar. His remaining siblings cannot seem to stop laughing; Benedict is wiping his eyes.
“Now, Kate, I sincerely doubt it would have taken long for you to ascertain my brother’s character,” Eloise pipes up.
“That is true!” Kate acknowledges. “But a less discerning young woman could certainly have made use of Whistledown’s insights.”
“What is the meaning of this?” Anthony demands, looking between Kate and Penelope. His wife is unbothered by his brash tone, beaming at him in amusement, but Penelope won’t look at him. Her head is bowed, and she is clinging to Colin’s hand, holding it against her very red cheek.
“Do you not recall Whistledown’s various proclamations about you, brother?” Benedict asks. “The ones made prior to your marriage. They were quite… What was the word that Penelope used earlier? Frank.”
Penelope straightens in her chair and forces herself to look Anthony in the eye. She looks very sheepish, but there’s a glimmer of mirth in her smile.
The memory returns to him, a beat before Colin sing-songs, “A capital R Rake!”
Everybody is laughing again, including Penelope. Not even his mother can resist a smile. Colin seems delirious with pride, leaning down to kiss the top of his wife’s head. Anthony feels somewhat dazed, looking at Penelope, knowing that she authored such brazen words.
That particular column had neither scandalised nor concerned Anthony. He knew that having a reputation as a rogue would not deter any young lady from marrying him. He had felt only the vaguest sense of humiliation, when he imagined his mother and sisters reading it.
Now, over a year later, his mother and most of his sisters – and his wife, and his brothers – are surrounding him and laughing at his expense. The embarrassment has certainly caught up with him. It swells especially in the company of the author. Anthony gapes at Penelope. He doesn’t quite know how to accept the fact that the sweetest girl of his acquaintance called him a rake for years on end.
“I’m sorry, Anthony,” Penelope manages, her voice steady.
“It wasn’t a damning comment, brother,” Eloise points out. “Gentlemen are permitted dalliances without risking ruin. There is no need to be angry.”
“Excuse me?” Anthony says, incredulous. “There is no need to be angry?”
“Are you suggesting that her assessment was inaccurate?” Kate asks, smiling at him.
“Or that the subject raised in those papers didn’t prompt some… helpful reflection?” Violet asks.
Anthony realises that his mother is right. The sheet declaring him an upper-case-R Rake came at his breaking point, at the time in his life where he simply could not continue on as he had been. It still makes him shudder, to remember the joyless cycle of performing daytime duties and numbing himself with nighttime debauchery.
He does not believe that Penelope’s writing about him in that paper had any influence on his actions – but certainly, they reflected his mindset. The deepest and most desperate of his concerns. The anxiety he could not bring himself to address, that he informed nobody about. Somehow, Penelope knew.
He turns to her, amazed.
“I also wrote that I was of the firm opinion that your union with Kate was a love match,” Penelope says. “Since then, I’ve had little to report. If I were to write about you again, I might harken to the cliche that reformed rakes make the best husbands.”
Anthony could not repress his smile, even if he wanted to.
“What of that other cliche, about the quiet ones?” he asks, reaching for his teacup, raising it to her. “I’ll have to watch out for you, sister.”