Chapter Text
It was Monday, the day of the week Hyacinth always looked forward to, especially during the London season. It meant the arrival of the Featheringtons—specifically, Penelope and Felicity—at precisely three o’clock, a tradition that had held since she could remember. As the clock struck, she watched from her usual spot near the drawing-room window as the two sisters were ushered inside.
The drawing room was bathed in the golden glow of the afternoon sunlight, casting a warm light over the elegant furnishings. Despite the charm of the setting, an undeniable tension lingered, especially between Penelope and Eloise. Hyacinth noticed the way Penelope hesitated, her smile faltering as her eyes met Eloise’s cool, distant gaze.
At the end of last season, before they all left for the country, Eloise and Penelope had a disagreement so significant that during their stay at Aubrey Hall, just the mention of Penelope’s name made Eloise leave the room. No one knew what the fight was about or what could possibly have come between them. Hyacinth had written to Felicity, inquiring if Penelope had spoken about it, but apparently, Penelope had been as tight-lipped as Eloise.
Violet, ever the gracious hostess, welcomed the Featherington sisters with warmth, but Hyacinth could see the concern in her mother’s eyes. “Penelope, Felicity, my dears, how lovely to see you both,” she said, her tone kind but her eyes sharp as they darted between Penelope and Eloise.
“Thank you, Lady Bridgerton,” Penelope replied with a small curtsy, her voice steady despite the clear unease. Hyacinth could practically feel the tension in the air, and it made her fidget with impatience.
Eloise, for her part, remained seated, her fingers tapping restlessly on the arm of her chair. She hadn’t even acknowledged Penelope’s greeting, a fact that clearly stung her former friend. Hyacinth’s irritation with her sister grew. Could Eloise not see that Penelope was trying?
Sensing the thickening atmosphere, Hyacinth sprang to her feet, determined to inject some lightness into the room. “Felicity, come, Gregory is in desperate need of a partner for cat’s cradle,” she declared, dragging Felicity along before she could protest.
Gregory, who had been lounging in the corner, rolled his eyes dramatically. “Only because Hyacinth cheats,” he grumbled, though without real heat.
“If you lose fair and square, Gregory, that’s not cheating—it’s just skill,” Hyacinth quipped, giving him a teasing grin.
Felicity giggled as she joined them, while Gregory shot a disgruntled look their way. “You two are so vexing,” he muttered, clearly more interested in making a dramatic exit than in continuing the game. He stomped out of the room, leaving Hyacinth and Felicity to exchange a triumphant look.
But Gregory’s departure didn’t lift the tension completely. Hyacinth’s attention snapped back to Penelope, who was now trying to approach Eloise, her expression hesitant. “Eloise, if you would permit me a moment—”
“There’s no need, Penelope,” Eloise interrupted, her voice sharper than Hyacinth had ever heard it. The words hung in the air, and Hyacinth’s heart sank as she saw Penelope’s face pale. “I believe we’ve said all there is to say. And I would appreciate it if you didn’t come into my house to try to corner me into a conversation I do not wish to have.”
Violet intervened with the gentle authority only she could muster. “Eloise, that’s enough,” she said, her tone firm.
But Eloise was already standing, her expression hardening as she turned to leave. “I need some air,” she announced before sweeping out of the room.
Hyacinth watched as Penelope stood there, clearly trying to hold her composure. She felt a pang of sympathy and something more—an urge to fix this. Penelope didn’t deserve this treatment, especially after all she had done for Eloise and the hardships her family had faced the past couple of years.
Penelope’s voice was steady, though her face was flushed. “Perhaps I should take my leave as well, Lady Bridgerton. I do not wish to cause any discomfort.”
Her mother stepped forward, placing a comforting hand on Penelope’s arm. “You’re always welcome here, Penelope,” she said, her voice filled with reassurance.
Penelope managed a small smile, but Hyacinth could see the effort it took. “Thank you, Lady Bridgerton,” she murmured.
“Penelope, would you play something for us?” Francesca asked suddenly from her corner, breaking the silence that had fallen over the room. “It’s been too long since we’ve had the pleasure.”
Penelope looked startled by the request. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly…”
“Nonsense,” Francesca replied with quiet insistence. “It would be lovely to hear you play.”
Hyacinth saw Felicity’s eyes light up with encouragement. “Please, Penelope. I’ve missed it.”
“You’re the only one in this room apart from Francesca who can actually play,” Hyacinth couldn’t help but add, hoping she’d encourage Penelope.
Penelope hesitated, glancing around the room. When she finally nodded, it was with a resigned but grateful smile. “Very well,” she agreed, moving towards the pianoforte with a nervous energy that Hyacinth could feel even from across the room.
The first notes she played were soft, hesitant, but as the melody grew, so did Penelope’s confidence. The music filled the room, weaving a spell that seemed to soothe the earlier tension. The notes were tender, filled with an emotion that spoke of longing, perhaps even heartbreak. Hyacinth watched, her heart swelling with a mix of admiration and sadness.
As the final notes faded, the room was silent for a moment before Francesca began clapping softly, prompting the others to join in. The applause was gentle, appreciative, but Hyacinth noticed how Penelope seemed to shrink under the attention, her fingers trembling slightly as they rested on the keys.
“That was beautiful, Penelope,” Violet praised warmly. “You play with such emotion.”
Penelope blushed, looking both pleased and embarrassed by the attention. “Thank you,” she said softly.
Before she could rise from the bench, Colin entered the room, his presence immediately brightening the atmosphere in a way only her brother could. The air seemed to shift, lightening as if a cloud had passed, allowing the sun to shine through once more. Hyacinth’s eyes narrowed as she noticed the way Penelope’s cheeks flushed at the sight of him. Colin had always been attentive to Penelope, ever since they were children, and it seemed nothing had changed in that regard. Except maybe everything else about him had. Colin had returned from his travels with a newfound aloofness and seemingly emotional detachment that Hyacinth wasn’t sure she liked. But when he was around Penelope, he seemed to soften, becoming the sweet, caring brother she remembered.
“I knew it was you playing,” Colin said warmly, his voice carrying that familiar, easy charm that had always come so naturally to him. He moved closer, his attention fully on Penelope. His smile was genuine, and for a moment, it seemed as if the rest of the world had faded away, leaving just the two of them.
Penelope smiled politely, though Hyacinth could see the tension in her posture. “I was merely filling in until Francesca could take her rightful place.”
Colin chuckled softly, his expression genuine. “You sell yourself short, Pen. That was truly lovely.”
Hyacinth’s eyes darted between them, noticing how Penelope’s shoulders seemed to relax a fraction at his words. She was always so nervous around Colin these days, though it was obvious to Hyacinth that Penelope cared deeply for him. And Colin—Hyacinth had seen it time and again—seemed drawn to her in a way that was more than just friendship, even if he didn’t quite realise it.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Penelope replied, her voice softer now, almost shy.
Colin’s smile softened, and he took a step closer, lowering his voice just enough to make their conversation feel private, intimate. “Would you allow me to steal you away for a moment?”
Hyacinth’s eyes followed them closely as Penelope hesitated, her cheeks flushing slightly. Then, with a faint smile, she nodded. “Of course,” she said quietly.
As Colin led Penelope to a quieter corner of the room, Hyacinth nudged Felicity discreetly, her fingers tightening around the string for their cat’s cradle game. Together, they manoeuvred closer under the pretence of finding a better spot to play, though their true focus was fixed firmly on the unfolding conversation.
“How are you holding up?” Colin asked gently, his voice tinged with genuine concern.
Hyacinth noticed the way Penelope’s shoulders stiffened, and she drew a breath before replying, choosing her words with care. “I’m… managing,” she said, her tone a careful balance between honesty and restraint, as if trying not to reveal too much.
Colin nodded, his expression earnest, his brows furrowing slightly. “I’ve noticed,” he replied softly. “I know things with Eloise have been difficult, but you still have friends here—myself included.”
Penelope’s lips curved into a small smile, though the sadness in her eyes didn’t fade. “Thank you, Colin. That means more to me than you know. It’s just that… I miss her,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I understand,” Colin said, his tone gentle and reassuring. “Eloise can be… stubborn, but she cares for you. She just needs time.”
Hyacinth’s heart ached a little at Penelope’s brave nod, the gratitude mingling with a visible sadness that seemed to weigh down her usually bright spirit. “I hope you’re right,” Penelope murmured, her eyes downcast.
Colin, however, seemed determined to bring some lightness back into the conversation. “I know I am,” he said with a playful grin. “And in the meantime,” he continued, “you have me—though I’m afraid I’m not nearly as good at providing stimulating conversation as my sister.”
Penelope let out a soft laugh, and Hyacinth couldn’t help but smile at the way Colin always managed to draw her out, to find the joy even in moments of uncertainty. “You sell yourself short, Colin,” Penelope replied, her tone light but sincere. “Your conversation is always… entertaining, to say the least.”
“Ah, entertaining—a polite way of saying I talk too much,” Colin quipped, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
Penelope shook her head, the smile lingering on her lips. “Not at all. I’ve always found your company... pleasant.”
“Only pleasant?” Colin feigned offence, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. “I shall have to work harder to impress you, Miss Featherington.”
Hyacinth exchanged a quick glance with Felicity, who was equally absorbed in their exchange. It was so obvious—how could they not see it themselves? Colin’s gaze never wavered from Penelope, as if she were the only person in the room. And Penelope, despite the slight nervousness in her stance, seemed to glow under his attention, her cheeks blooming with a soft pink hue that spoke volumes more than her words.
“They act like nothing more than friends,” Hyacinth whispered, her voice edged with frustration, “when it’s so clear to everyone else that they’re in love.”
Felicity nodded, her expression exasperated but fond. “She’s loved him for so long… And he’s so blind to it.”
“Typical of my brothers,” Hyacinth muttered with a sigh. “Always the last to know their own hearts.”
But as she continued to watch Colin and Penelope, something clicked into place in Hyacinth’s mind, like the final piece of a puzzle she hadn’t even known she was assembling. They just needed a little push. A smile spread slowly across her face as she turned to Felicity, eyes gleaming with a familiar, mischievous light. “If they won’t take that step on their own, we’ll just have to give them a nudge.”
Felicity’s brow furrowed, but there was an intrigued spark in her eyes. “You mean… meddle?”
Hyacinth’s grin widened. “Exactly. With a bit of cleverness, we’ll have them declaring their undying love in no time.”
Felicity hesitated only for a moment before her face lit up with a shared sense of purpose. “I’m in.”
They turned back to observe Colin and Penelope, who were still lost in their conversation, their heads inclined toward one another as if in their own world. Hyacinth’s heart thrummed with excitement. This would be their most daring scheme yet—but if it worked, it could be their most rewarding. She felt a thrill of anticipation course through her veins. It was time to put her plan into motion.
The following morning, Hyacinth sat perched on the edge of her bed, her fingers drumming against her knee with barely contained excitement. The anticipation was nearly unbearable as she waited for the knock she knew was coming.
Finally, there it was—a light, quick rap. Hyacinth sprang up, flinging open the door to find Felicity standing there, slightly out of breath, her eyes bright with anticipation.
“Took you long enough!” Hyacinth exclaimed, seizing Felicity’s hand and tugging her towards the bed with a grin.
“I’m sorry!” Felicity replied, breathless and laughing. “My sisters and their husbands were visiting. I couldn’t just sneak away without anyone noticing.” She settled onto the bed, tucking her legs beneath her, still catching her breath.
Hyacinth rolled her eyes, though there was no real annoyance in her expression. “Fine, fine,” she said, waving it off with a flourish. “We’ve got important matters to discuss. Now, we have to be smart about this,” she said, her voice full of determination. “We can’t just throw them together and hope they fall in love. It needs to be subtle, something that makes them realise their feelings without them knowing we’re involved.”
Felicity nodded, thoughtfully twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “I really want to help them, but what can we do when the best opportunities for them to interact happen when we’re not there?”
“Ugh,” Hyacinth groaned in agreement. “I can’t wait to be out in society myself—pretty dresses, balls, all the sweets I can eat. But we’re never around when something exciting happens. I always have to hear about it secondhand, or sneak a peek at Lady Whistledown’s latest column after the maids have discarded it.”
They were silent for a moment, each lost in thought. Finally, Felicity spoke up, her voice tentative. “What about arranging for them to meet in a secluded part of Lady Bothe’s garden party this Saturday? Somewhere private where they can talk without interruptions?”
Hyacinth considered it, then shook her head. “It’s a good idea, but I think they need a bigger push. They talk all the time, and nothing ever comes of it. A pretty garden might not make a difference.”
“You’re right. And we can’t risk them being caught in a compromising situation, either. Mama would force them together, but that wouldn’t be romantic at all.”
Hyacinth grinned. “Exactly! They deserve something more—something special.”
The room fell silent again as they both pondered their next move. Suddenly, Hyacinth’s eyes lit up as she recalled a dinner conversation from a couple of days ago.
“We need to make Colin jealous!” she exclaimed, her voice brimming with excitement.
Felicity looked at her in surprise. “Jealous? How?”
“A couple of days ago at dinner, the conversation started with Lady Danbury’s Four Seasons ball. While it began as a comparison to Lady Somerset’s ball, it quickly turned into a discussion of the themes. Mama couldn’t resist talking about who she thought had best captured the essence of Lady Danbury’s theme, and Penelope came up. Mama said the emerald tones of Penelope’s gown complemented her complexion beautifully, much more than the usual bright colours your mama picks for you girls. And the cut of her new dresses really flattered her figure,” Hyacinth explained, excitement bubbling in her voice.
Felicity nodded, following along.
“Then Benedict added that Penelope’s change in style was attracting a lot more male attention this season, and I could see Colin’s face—he looked positively vexed!”
Felicity’s eyes widened. “Was he really?”
“Yes!” Hyacinth continued, her tone triumphant. “He tried to hide it, but I know my brother too well. I’m certain that comment bothered him,” Hyacinth finished, her eyes sparkling with the potential of this new idea.
“So, if we make Colin think someone else is interested in Penelope, it might make him realise his own feelings.”
Hyacinth nodded, a mischievous smile spreading across her face. “Exactly. We’ll write Penelope love letters from a secret admirer—someone too shy to approach her directly, but who expresses his feelings through words. We’ll make the letters sweet and sincere, full of compliments. Colin won’t be able to ignore it.”
Felicity gasped, her hand flying to her mouth in delight. “That’s brilliant! Penelope would be over the moon to have a secret admirer.”
Hyacinth was already thinking ahead. “You know her best, so you should write the letters. I’ll copy them down to ensure she doesn’t recognise the handwriting. And you’ll be in charge of delivering them—make sure no one else notices.”
Felicity’s face lit up with determination. “I’ll be as sneaky as a cat. No one will ever suspect a thing.”
Hyacinth grinned, already imagining the effect their plan would have. “We’ll start with one letter, something simple but heartfelt. If it goes well, we’ll send more. Penelope needs to believe in her admirer, but we also need to ensure Colin hears about it.”
Felicity eagerly walked over to Hyacinth’s desk, grabbing a sheet of paper and a quill. Dipping it into the ink, she began to write:
Dearest Penelope,
You do not know me, but I have long admired you from afar. Your kindness and wit are unmatched, and every time I see you, my heart swells with admiration. I have been too shy to approach you in person, but I can no longer keep my feelings to myself. You are a light in the darkness, and I can only hope that one day, I will gather the courage to speak to you face-to-face.
Yours, ever sincerely,
Your Secret Admirer
Felicity finished with a flourish, then handed the letter to Hyacinth. “What do you think?”
Hyacinth read it over, her excitement building. “It’s perfect! Penelope will be flattered, and Colin—let’s hope he realises what he could lose.”
Felicity beamed, then switched places with Hyacinth so she could copy it down in her penmanship.
“Now, we just need to make sure it reaches Penelope without anyone else noticing.”
Felicity carefully tucked the letter into her reticule, her eyes gleaming with resolve. “Leave it to me. I’ll find the perfect moment to slip it into her correspondence.”
“Let me know once Penelope has it, and I’ll work my magic with Colin,” Hyacinth said with a conspiratorial grin.
As Felicity prepared to leave, Hyacinth’s heart raced with anticipation. Their plan was bold, maybe even reckless, but if it worked, it could be the push that Colin and Penelope needed to finally acknowledge their feelings.
With a bit of luck—and a few more letters—Hyacinth and Felicity might just succeed in bringing them together in the most romantic way possible.
The next morning, Felicity awoke with excitement buzzing through her. She had hardly slept, too full of anticipation for the plan she and Hyacinth had devised. As she dressed, her mind raced, rehearsing what she needed to do.
Downstairs, she moved quickly toward the drawing room where the morning mail was being sorted by Grace, the housemaid. Felicity approached with a feigned air of innocence, even as her heart thudded in her chest.
“Oh, Grace!” she called out, keeping her tone light and casual. “Mama has been looking for that thimble she lost yesterday. Could you help me search for it? You know how cross she gets when things go missing.”
Grace hesitated but, seeing Felicity's earnest expression, nodded. “Of course, Miss Felicity. I’ll check near the sewing table.”
As Grace turned away, Felicity seized the opportunity. Quickly, she reached into her pocket and slipped the carefully folded letter from yesterday onto the pile of missives. Her fingers tingled with the thrill of it, and she let out a small, satisfied breath before stepping back.
“Found it!” Grace called, holding up a small silver thimble.
Felicity plastered on a bright smile. “Oh, thank you, Grace! Mama will be ever so pleased!”
With the first part of the plan complete, she hurried to the breakfast room, where her family was already gathering. The table was more generously laden than it had been in some time—freshly baked bread, butter, soft-boiled eggs, slices of ham, and even a dish of stewed apples. Felicity remembered all too well the months of boiled potatoes last season, a reminder of how precarious their financial situation could be.
Her older sisters, Prudence and Philippa, were seated with their husbands, Albion and Harry. Felicity took her place next to Penelope, her excitement barely contained. She adored her brothers-in-law—Albion was always so kind to her, treating her like she mattered, and Harry, though simple-minded, had a heart of gold and a knack for making everyone laugh.
“Good morning, Felicity!” Albion greeted warmly. “You seem very bright-eyed today.”
Felicity smiled back. “Good morning, Albion!” She liked how they both made her sisters so happy, and how attentive they were to her Penelope, and even their often difficult mother.
Portia sat at the head of the table, her sharp eyes scanning her family. “It is so lovely to have us all together,” she declared, though there was a certain tension in her gaze, particularly when it fell on Penelope. Felicity knew exactly what was behind that look—Portia was always thinking of the family’s future, especially the dire need for a male heir to secure the estate. With Prudence and Philippa both married off, Portia had been relentlessly pushing them to produce sons, but so far, there had been no grandchild. And now Penelope, too, was becoming a focus of her ambitions.
Albion, ever polite, nodded. “Indeed, there is nothing like a full table for good conversation.”
Harry grinned. “And good food! Pass the ham, will you?”
Philippa giggled. “Harry, honestly! You’ve hardly finished your eggs.”
As breakfast began, the conversation flowed with the usual lightness. Albion asked Penelope about her novel, and Penelope answered with a shy smile, her cheeks tinged pink at his genuine interest. Felicity took small bites of bread and butter, trying to seem as normal as possible, even though her mind was consumed with thoughts of the letter.
At last, Briarly, their butler appeared with the morning post. Felicity’s heart gave a little leap as he entered, carrying a silver tray filled with envelopes.
“Ah, the morning post,” Portia said, setting down her teacup. “Let us see if there is anything of importance.”
Felicity kept her eyes firmly on her plate as the butler began distributing the letters. She felt a surge of satisfaction when Penelope received a small bundle of mail, and she noticed the slight pause as Penelope’s fingers lingered over the unfamiliar envelope—the one Felicity had slipped in.
Penelope’s brow furrowed slightly, her expression shifting from curiosity to surprise as she opened the letter and began to read. Felicity’s excitement surged as she watched Penelope’s eyes widen. Penelope seemed to go very still, her cheeks faintly colouring.
Portia immediately noticed her daughter’s reaction. “Penelope, what is it?” she asked sharply. “Why do you look as if you’ve seen a ghost?”
Penelope shook her head quickly, trying to dismiss the letter. “Oh, it’s nothing, Mama. Just a…a bit of a surprise, that is all.”
But Portia was not to be deterred. “Let me see it,” she demanded, holding out her hand with an imperious gesture.
For a moment, Penelope hesitated, clearly reluctant to relinquish the letter. But under her mother’s keen gaze, she finally surrendered it. Felicity watched closely, trying to keep her face composed and unreadable, her heart racing in her chest.
Portia’s eyes moved rapidly over the page, her expression shifting from suspicion to surprise and then to something that looked like a mixture of delight and calculation. “A secret admirer?” she murmured, her voice carrying a note of surprise.
Penelope quickly spoke up, her voice a bit too high-pitched. “It is probably just a jest, Mama. Someone having a bit of fun.”
But Felicity, with her sharp eyes, could see the flicker of hope in Penelope’s expression—the hope that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t a joke at all. Portia, however, seemed to be scrutinising every word, her brows knitted together as if weighing the value of this unexpected development. “A jest?” she repeated with a hint of incredulity. “Or perhaps… a suitor?”
Her tone was carefully neutral, but Felicity detected the glint of ambition in her mother’s eyes—the calculation of what this could mean for the family’s future. If there was a chance, however slim, to marry off Penelope to a gentleman, Portia would certainly seize it. After all, another marriage could mean another opportunity for a grandson—a potential heir to secure their family’s precarious estate.
Prudence, sensing she was no longer the centre of attention, pouted and leaned back in her chair, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “Well, I think it’s ridiculous,” she muttered, her lips curving downward. “Why would anyone be interested in Penelope of all people? She’s not even trying.”
Portia shot Prudence a sharp look. “Prudence, do not be so unkind,” she chided, though her tone lacked real reprimand. “Even Penelope might have some qualities worth appreciating… to the right sort of gentleman.”
Penelope blinked, clearly taken aback by this rare, if faint, praise. “Mama, please,” she murmured, “I’m sure it is all just a misunderstanding. There’s no need to make a fuss over it.”
Philippa, ever curious, tilted her head to one side. “What’s happening, Mama?” she asked, her tone more gentle.
Portia’s smile widened, and this time there was a slyness to it. “It appears Penelope has a secret admirer… and perhaps, a suitor!”
Felicity quickly put on her most surprised face, her eyes widening with feigned delight. “Oh, how wonderful, Penelope!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “May we hear what it says? I’m sure it must be ever so romantic!”
Philippa’s curiosity was instantly piqued. “Yes, do read it, Penelope! What a charming thing, to have a secret admirer!”
Even Albion and Harry seemed to perk up. Albion leaned in with a teasing smile. “Come now, Penelope, don’t keep us in suspense.”
Felicity could hardly contain her delight. Penelope, caught off-guard and flustered, glanced around the table. Her face was tinged with a mix of embarrassment and a hint of pleasure. Penelope hesitated, glancing down at the letter in her hand. She could feel everyone's eyes on her—Portia's gaze practically boring into her, expectant and calculating, while Prudence's frown deepened with every passing second. Even Philippa, who was usually indifferent to such matters, seemed intrigued.
“Come on, Penelope!” Harry encouraged with a lopsided grin. “We all want to know what he wrote to make you so flustered.”
Penelope’s blush deepened, but she let out a soft sigh and unfolded the letter. Her hands trembled just slightly, but she began to read in a voice barely above a whisper. “Dearest Penelope…”
The room fell into complete silence as Penelope’s voice drifted across the table, carrying the words of the letter. Felicity could hardly contain her excitement; her heart raced as she watched her sister read each line. Penelope’s expression softened with each word, and there was a hint of a smile playing on her lips.
“You do not know me, but I have long admired you from afar,” Penelope read aloud, her voice wavering slightly. “Your kindness and wit are unmatched, and every time I see you, my heart swells with admiration.”
Portia's mouth twitched, and she gave a sharp nod. “Kindness and wit,” she repeated, as if trying out the words for the first time. “Perhaps your quietness has not gone unnoticed after all.”
Penelope continued, “I have been too shy to approach you in person, but I can no longer keep my feelings to myself. You are a light in the darkness, and I can only hope that one day, I will gather the courage to speak to you face-to-face.”
A soft murmur rippled through the room. Philippa clasped her hands to her chest, her face lit up with delight. “Oh, how romantic!” she exclaimed. “To think someone has been admiring you from a distance, Penelope!”
Felicity took a deep breath, pretending to be equally moved. “It is like something out of a novel!” she chimed in, her voice filled with youthful wonder.
Portia, however, seemed to be scrutinising every word. “And who might this mysterious admirer be?” she mused aloud, her fingers tapping thoughtfully on the table. “It could be anyone from the season… someone with enough sense to notice what a fine match Penelope would make.”
Penelope, looking surprised at their mother’s last comment, quickly folded the letter and set it down on the table. “I still think it’s most likely a jest,” she said, her cheeks still flushed. “Someone trying to be clever or…or make fun.”
Portia scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. “Nonsense! If a gentleman was willing to put such feelings into words, he must be sincere. And we must find out who he is—quickly.”
Albion leaned back in his chair, his brow furrowed in thought. “If he truly is a man of standing, he will reveal himself soon enough,” he remarked kindly. “But if this brings you any distress, Penelope, know that Harry and I are here to protect you from any untoward intentions.”
Harry nodded vehemently in agreement and Penelope’s expression softened, her gratitude evident. “Thank you, Albion. I am not distressed, truly. Just… surprised.”
Felicity watched her sister’s face carefully. She could see a small flicker of hope in Penelope’s eyes—a hope that perhaps this admirer was real, and not just a figment of someone's imagination.
Portia, meanwhile, was already plotting. “We should make discreet inquiries,” she announced, nodding to herself. “See if anyone has taken an interest in you recently, Penelope. This could be an opportunity… one we mustn’t let slip away.”
Prudence huffed, folding her arms. “Of course, Mama, you’d be interested in marrying Penelope off the moment someone breathes in her direction,” she muttered. “You’re just hoping for another chance at that elusive grandson!”
“Prudence!” Portia snapped, her cheeks reddening slightly. “Mind your tongue! A good match for Penelope benefits the entire family, as you well know.”
Penelope, looking mortified, quickly interjected. “Please, let’s not make too much of this. I’m sure it will all come to nothing.”
But Felicity noticed the way Penelope held onto the letter, her fingers gently brushing over the paper as if she couldn’t quite let it go. Felicity knew then that their little plan was working.
She leaned in closer to Penelope, her expression innocent. “Pen, if it truly is a secret admirer, don’t you think it would be exciting to find out who he is?”
Penelope hesitated, then nodded slightly, her cheeks still flushed. “I guess it would…”
As the discussion of who could it be continued, Philippa tapped her finger against her chin, her brow furrowed in concentration. She looked between Penelope and the letter with wide-eyed curiosity, clearly deep in thought.
Finally, she spoke up, her voice earnest. “Do you suppose it might be from Colin Bridgerton?” she wondered aloud, glancing around at her family. “I’ve noticed he’s always quite friendly with you, Penelope. Maybe he’s the one who admires you in secret?”
Penelope's face turned a deeper shade of crimson, and her mouth opened slightly in shock. For a moment, she seemed completely at a loss for words. Felicity had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from bursting into laughter. Leave it to Philippa to bring up the very person Penelope most wished not to discuss!
Portia’s eyes widened, and then she frowned, clearly considering the idea. “Colin Bridgerton?” she repeated, a note of surprise in her voice. “He is certainly eligible, and he does spend quite a bit of time around you…” Her voice trailed off, and Felicity could almost see the wheels turning in her mother’s mind.
Penelope quickly shook her head, her voice a little too high. “Oh, no! I’m sure it couldn’t be Colin. He… he would never do such a thing, not in secret.” Her hands were clenching the letter a little too tightly, and her smile looked painfully forced. “Besides, we are just friends. Everyone knows that.”
Philippa, undeterred by her sister’s protestations, continued on cheerfully. “But it could make sense, Penelope. He is always so nice to you, and Mama did say he was eligible.” She turned to Albion with a grin. “What do you think, Albion? Don’t you think it’s possible?”
Albion chuckled, giving a light-hearted shrug. “Well, I can’t say for sure, but it would be rather romantic, wouldn’t it? And Bridgertons are known for their love matches…” He cast a teasing glance at Penelope. “You’ve certainly captured his interest in the past.”
Penelope looked like she wanted to sink into the floor, and Felicity could barely contain her amusement. Philippa had managed to put a thought into everyone’s mind, one that was almost too absurd—but just plausible enough to make Penelope squirm.
Portia, now with a gleam in her eye, seemed to be warming up to the idea. “Perhaps we should invite the Bridgertons over soon,” she mused. “See if Mr. Bridgerton shows any…particular interest.”
Penelope groaned inwardly, trying to maintain her composure. “Mama, please, don’t be ridiculous,” she muttered, but Felicity could see the panic in her sister's eyes.
Philippa gave a little shrug. “Well, it was just a thought,” she said with a smile, but then added, “He is quite a handsome gentleman, though, and ever so charming. If he is your admirer, Penelope, you should count yourself lucky!”
Felicity couldn't resist adding her own playful touch. “Oh yes, Penelope, wouldn't that be something? Colin Bridgerton writing you love letters! I think it would be very exciting indeed,” she said, her voice light with feigned innocence.
Penelope gave her a stern look, clearly not appreciating her youngest sister’s teasing. “I’m sure it is all just a misunderstanding,” she insisted, her tone firmer this time. “It’s quite unlikely to be from Colin or any other gentleman of standing.”
Portia, however, wasn’t so easily dissuaded. “We shall see,” she declared, still smiling to herself. “We shall see indeed.”
Felicity hid a smile behind her teacup, her heart racing with glee. The letter had sparked quite the commotion, and she couldn’t wait to see how it would all play out. Philippa’s innocent suggestion had added an unexpected twist to their plan, and Felicity couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement.
For now, she’d just have to wait and see what would happen next—and hope that things continued to go exactly as she and Hyacinth had planned.
Felicity arrived at the Bridgerton house, a smile already fixed on her face. Hyacinth had been insistent in her invitation, promising a lively card game in the garden with her older brothers. Felicity had tried her best to convince Penelope to come along, but her sister had stubbornly refused. Penelope still felt unwelcome in the Bridgerton household after their last visit, when Eloise could barely look her in the eye, despite what Lady Bridgerton had said. It was frustrating, and Felicity’s attempts to uncover what had happened between her sister and Eloise had been fruitless.
As the butler led her to the drawing room, she found Hyacinth waiting with an eager grin. “Finally, you’re here!” Hyacinth exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Come on, I’ve been dying to hear how things went after the letter!”
Felicity chuckled as she leaned in closer, quickly filling her in on the developments. “Mama is over the moon,” she whispered conspiratorially. “She’s convinced this secret admirer is our salvation. Even Philippa, in her own way, has been a surprising help—she actually suggested that Colin might be the admirer!”
Hyacinth burst into laughter, her hand covering her mouth. “Philippa? Helping without even knowing? That’s brilliant!” She shot Felicity a wicked grin. “We must make use of this. Imagine Colin’s face when we tell him.”
Felicity giggled, already imagining the chaos. “Exactly what I was thinking,” she replied, the two of them sharing a conspiratorial glance. “So, how do we bring it up?”
Hyacinth tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Leave that to me,” she said with a wink. “Now, come on! The gentlemen are waiting.”
With that, Hyacinth led her out to the garden. It was a lovely day, the sun casting a warm glow over the manicured lawns. Beneath the shade of a large oak tree, Felicity saw Benedict, Colin, and Gregory seated around a small table laden with lemonade and sandwiches. The three men looked up as the girls approached, their faces breaking into smiles.
“Ah, Miss Featherington,” Benedict greeted with a playful bow. “The final player has arrived.”
“Felicity, how lovely to see you!” Colin chimed in, his tone warm.
“Finally!” Gregory said teasingly. “I was thinking you had chickened out and weren’t going to show.”
“Ah! As if!” Felicity said dismissively. “How could I resist a card game against you? It’s easy money.” she replied brightly.
She noticed Colin’s eyes flickering with interest as he glanced around. “Just you today?” he asked casually.
“I’m afraid Penelope couldn’t be convinced to join me,” she replied.
Gregory frowned, his brows knitting together. “Why not? Doesn’t she like us anymore?”
“Oh, it’s not that,” Felicity quickly reassured him. “She… well, she doesn’t feel quite comfortable returning until she and Eloise mend their friendship. Something has been off between them, and I cannot quite get her to tell me what happened.”
At this, Benedict’s expression grew slightly more serious. “I wasn’t aware there was an issue between them,” he said quietly, exchanging a quick glance with Colin. “No one knows what caused it?”
Felicity shook her head. “Not a clue. Penelope has been quite tight-lipped about the whole thing.”
“Well, I do hope they sort it out soon,” Benedict remarked, taking a sip of his lemonade. “Friendships like theirs shouldn’t be ruined over misunderstandings.”
Hyacinth, sensing it was time to begin her mischief, smiled brightly. “Now, enough about that—let’s play, shall we?” she declared, pulling up a chair beside Felicity. “Colin, you’ve always been dreadfully good at this game. I expect you’ll show us no mercy?”
Colin grinned. “I’ll try to be gentle,” he promised, though his eyes sparkled with competitive spirit.
The game began with easy laughter and friendly banter. Hyacinth and Colin proved to be particularly clever and sneaky, while Felicity found herself caught between amusement and determination to keep up with the Bridgertons’ wit.
About halfway through the game, Hyacinth made her move. “Oh, Felicity,” she said casually, as if it had just occurred to her, “has anything exciting happened at your house since we last saw each other? Things here have been dreadfully boring.”
Felicity feigned surprise at the question, catching the gleam in Hyacinth’s eyes. “Well… actually, something quite thrilling did happen!” she said, her tone perfectly pitched to capture everyone’s attention.
The men looked up, intrigued. “Do tell,” Benedict urged, leaning in with a grin.
Felicity smiled, pleased to have their rapt attention. “We’ve had news of a secret admirer!” she announced dramatically. “Penelope received the most romantic letter. My new brothers, on Mama’s orders, are even making inquiries at their clubs to see if they can uncover who this mystery gentleman might be.”
Colin’s hand paused over his lemonade, his expression suddenly sharp with interest. “A secret admirer?” he echoed. “For Penelope?”
Felicity nodded eagerly. “Yes! And you should have seen her face when she read it. At first, she tried to dismiss it, but I could tell she was excited at the prospect of a suitor. It’s about time, really,” she added with a meaningful glance at Colin. “She has so many wonderful qualities—kindness, wit, charm. I don’t know how she isn’t married yet.”
Hyacinth nodded fervently in agreement. “Indeed! Penelope is quite the catch,” she added with a sly look at her brother.
Benedict smiled warmly. “I quite agree,” he said. “She would make a wonderful wife for any gentleman lucky enough to win her favour.”
“I’d marry her myself if I were older!” Gregory declared morosely. “I’d ask her to wait for me but I’m certain someone will snatch her up before I’m eligible.”
Felicity and Hyacinth shared a knowing glance, both of them catching the way Colin’s jaw tightened ever so slightly, his gaze fixed on the cards in his hand. It was subtle, but the signs were there—Colin was bothered by the idea of another man being interested in Penelope.
Hyacinth, sensing the perfect moment, turned to Felicity with wide-eyed innocence. “Do you have any suspects, Felicity?” she asked, her voice light.
Felicity bit back a smile. “Oh, none so far,” she replied, then let out a laugh as if something amusing had just occurred to her.
“What’s so funny?” Gregory asked, ever curious.
Felicity grinned. “Well, you see, Philippa, of all people, suggested that it might be Colin who wrote the letter!”
For a moment, there was stunned silence around the table, and then Benedict burst out laughing, clapping Colin on the back. “Oh, that would be rich!” he exclaimed. “Our dear Col, secretly pining for Penelope as if he could keep a secret like that for long.”
Colin's face remained carefully neutral, though a faint flush crept up his neck. “Philippa is more imaginative than I gave her credit for,” he replied smoothly, his eyes focused on the cards. “But I assure you, I have no need for such subterfuge.”
Hyacinth leaned in closer, her grin wide. “But, Colin, wouldn’t it be just wonderful if you were the mysterious suitor? Think of the scandal!”
Colin shot her a half-amused look, his lips twitching. “Scandal is the last thing I need, thank you,” he replied. “Besides, if I wanted to court a lady, I’d do it directly, not through anonymous letters.”
“But you have to admit,” Felicity chimed in, watching him closely, “it would be quite the gesture. Very romantic, don’t you think?”
Colin’s smile turned enigmatic. “Romantic gestures are all well and good, but they’re only effective if they’re genuine. And if I were to write such a letter, I wouldn’t hide behind it.”
Hyacinth’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “You know, Colin, you haven’t denied it with much conviction,” she pressed, refusing to let him off the hook.
Colin chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I did not write that letter, Hyacinth. You’re just fishing for a drama where there is none.” But as he spoke, his gaze flickered over to Felicity, just for a moment, betraying a hint of unease beneath his playful tone.
Felicity decided to push just a little further. “Oh, come now, Colin,” she said, her voice lilting with amusement, “you’re being rather evasive. It’s almost as if you don’t want us to know what you truly think of Penelope.”
Colin's eyes sharpened slightly, but his smile remained. “I think very highly of her, of course,” he replied, his tone carefully light. “She’s a dear friend to this family, and anyone would be fortunate to win her favour.”
“But you wouldn’t be opposed to it being you, would you?” Benedict teased, clearly enjoying his brother’s discomfort.
Colin shrugged, leaning back in his chair with an air of nonchalance. “I’m not opposed to anything… in theory,” he said, the corners of his mouth lifting into a faint, mysterious smile. “But this isn’t about me, is it?”
Felicity felt a flicker of satisfaction. Colin might be slippery, but his reactions, however subtle, spoke volumes. The way he carefully danced around the topic only made his interest more apparent, even if he wasn’t ready to admit it—to them or himself.
Hyacinth could barely contain her excitement as she stepped into Lady Bothe’s garden party, her eyes immediately scanning the beautiful surroundings. The party was already buzzing with activity, but Hyacinth's mind was on a single mission: to observe every bit of interaction between her brother Colin and Penelope.
The day before had been quite eventful. After letting Colin know that Penelope had a potential suitor, the news spread quickly through the Bridgerton family, thanks mostly to Gregory’s inability to keep a secret. Somehow it even became the primary topic at dinner.
Hyacinth had kept a close eye on her mother, who had seemed supportive but… disappointed. Hyacinth knew why; Lady Bridgerton had always adored Penelope, treating her almost like another daughter. She had often hinted at how perfect Penelope would be as a Bridgerton wife, if only Colin would open his eyes.
The most fascinating reaction, though, had come from Eloise. Eloise, who had been resolutely pretending that Penelope no longer existed, had looked surprised, almost bitter, at the news. She had muttered something about how they were supposed to be spinsters together forever. Hyacinth had nearly rolled her eyes—she loved her sister dearly but only Eloise could begrudge Penelope a little happiness.
But the real chaos had started when Benedict, with a mischievous grin, decided to share Philippa’s suggestion that Colin was the mysterious admirer. Colin had immediately bristled, forced once again to defend himself from the teasing accusations that followed.
Eloise had set down her fork with a huff. “Colin, if you're even considering this, you really shouldn’t.”
Colin had turned to her, a calm yet pointed expression on his face. “Just because you and Penelope are no longer friends doesn't mean I have to distance myself from her,” he replied smoothly. “And if I ever did wish to court her—which, to be clear, I'm not saying I do—I certainly wouldn't let that stop me.”
Hyacinth had watched, utterly captivated by the back-and-forth. The entire dinner had been a whirlwind of amused glances and suppressed laughter, and Hyacinth had loved every moment of it.
But now, at the garden party, she was back on the job. The Bridgertons were among the first to arrive, and Hyacinth made it her business to stick close to Colin, her eyes flitting between him and the entrance. She was rewarded when the Featheringtons finally arrived. Penelope walked in wearing a stunning lavender dress that highlighted her creamy complexion and was cut in the latest Parisian style. Hyacinth noticed with satisfaction that Colin’s gaze locked onto Penelope immediately, his expression shifting to something softer, almost entranced.
Penelope, for her part, looked both radiant and hesitant, as if uncertain of her place among the crowd. But Felicity, ever the strategist, pulled her sister directly towards Hyacinth, a conspiratorial smile on her lips.
Hyacinth noted Colin’s pleased expression at this development, and even Penelope didn't look too bothered by it. Hyacinth greeted them with an enthusiastic wave, her heart racing with excitement at what might unfold. Colin stood beside her, clearly pleased with their arrival, though he tried to mask it with a more nonchalant demeanour.
“Penelope,” Colin greeted warmly, his smile now breaking free. “You look lovely today.”
Penelope smiled back, a touch of colour rising to her cheeks. “Thank you, Colin. You’re too kind.”
“I’m only being honest,” he replied smoothly, his eyes lingering on her just a bit longer than necessary.
Hyacinth could hardly contain herself. “I was just telling Colin how boring these garden parties can be without good company,” she interjected brightly. “But now that you’re here, Penelope, things are bound to get interesting.”
Penelope laughed softly. “I’m not sure I’m much of a party attraction, Hyacinth, but thank you.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised,” Colin murmured, his tone slightly teasing. “You certainly have a way of livening things up, Pen.”
Penelope smiled. “Is that so? I suppose I should feel flattered.”
Colin chuckled. “You should. And, if nothing else, you’ve given everyone something to talk about with that beautiful dress.”
Hyacinth saw her opening and jumped in. “Oh, yes! Speaking of talking, do you remember our conversation during the card game yesterday?”
Before Hyacinth could say more, Colin, catching on quickly, cleared his throat. “Hyacinth, why don’t you and Felicity get some refreshments for everyone?” he suggested, giving her a look that clearly told her to stop.
“But—” Hyacinth began to protest.
“Please,” Colin added with a slightly firmer tone, but his eyes twinkled with amusement.
Hyacinth huffed, not quite willing to back down so easily, but Felicity nudged her. “Come on, Hyacinth,” she whispered. “We’ll find something sweet.”
Hyacinth reluctantly agreed, turning away with a pout. Gregory, who had been lingering nearby with a mischievous glint in his eye, immediately fell into step behind them, practically bouncing with energy. “What are you doing, Gregory?” Hyacinth asked, already sounding exasperated.
“I’m coming with you. I’m thirsty too,” Gregory declared, his grin widening as he spoke.
“No, you’re not,” Hyacinth shot back. “And we’re not going to get refreshments.”
Gregory's smirk deepened, clearly enjoying himself. “Then where are you going?” he teased, leaning in as if he were onto some grand secret.
“Go away, this is ladies’ business,” Hyacinth huffed, trying to sound authoritative.
Gregory only laughed, crossing his arms with a mock-serious expression. “Oh, now you’ve really made me want to come along.”
Felicity sighed, her tone firm. “Gregory, stop being a pest. We don’t need you hovering over us.”
He grinned even wider. “Oh, but I like hovering. Especially when I know you're up to something interesting.”
Hyacinth groaned, sensing she wasn’t going to win this one. “Fine, suit yourself,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “But don’t get in the way, or I’ll make you regret it.”
Gregory just chuckled, clearly satisfied. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Hyacinth. Lead the way!”
She watched as Colin subtly guided Penelope towards a quieter part of the garden. It was a clever move, unchaperoned yet still visible enough to be proper. But Hyacinth was not so easily deterred.
She grabbed Felicity’s arm, whispering excitedly, “Come on, let’s follow them! We need to hear this!”
They hurried to a spot where they could still see and hear Colin and Penelope, hiding behind a cluster of tall rose bushes. Gregory, despite his protests, crouched down beside them, clearly intrigued. Peering through a cluster of rose bushes, Hyacinth could just make out Colin’s voice, soft but firm.
“So,” Colin began, trying to sound casual but clearly curious, “about this secret admirer of yours… What do you think of it?”
Penelope raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing at her lips. “I’m assuming it was Felicity who told you about the letter?” she asked.
Colin chuckled softly. “She might have mentioned it,” he admitted. “She seemed rather eager to share the news.”
Penelope sighed, though her smile remained. “That does sound like her,” she replied. “But I still think it might be some sort of jest,” she continued cautiously.
Colin’s expression turned serious. “No one would be that cruel, Penelope,” he assured her, his tone sincere. “You’re beautiful, intelligent, and kind. Anyone would be lucky to have your attention. I’m sure this is a genuine suitor.”
Hyacinth saw Penelope’s cheeks flush, though whether from pleasure or embarrassment, she couldn’t quite tell. “You think so?” Penelope asked, her voice almost a whisper.
Colin nodded, though Hyacinth could see a flicker of something darker in his eyes—jealousy, perhaps? “Absolutely,” he replied. “And if you’d like, I could make my own inquiries. Felicity mentioned your brothers-in-law are asking around at their club, but since our circles don’t exactly overlap, I’d be able to ask elsewhere.”
Penelope looked uncertain, biting her lip. “That’s very kind of you, Colin, but…” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “I don’t want to force him out of hiding. If he decided to approach me first by letter, there must be a reason for it. I’ve already gone through two seasons, and this third one has just begun. I can afford to be patient.”
Colin’s smile was faint but genuine. “I suppose that makes sense,” he agreed. “But in the meantime, don’t sell yourself short. You deserve to have suitors lining up. Don’t let this secret admirer stop you from being open to other possibilities.”
Penelope seemed to consider his words for a moment, then looked at him more intently. “And what about you, Colin?” she asked softly. “What do you think I should do?”
Colin hesitated, his gaze flickering to her lips for the briefest of moments before he looked back into her eyes. “I think,” he began slowly, “you should let him prove himself worthy of you. If he truly admires you, he’ll find a way to show it.”
Penelope’s lips curved into a faint smile. “And if he doesn’t?” she asked, her tone light, but there was a hint of vulnerability beneath it.
Colin’s smile widened, and there was a teasing glint in his eyes. “Then he’s an utter fool,” he replied. “And someone else will have the chance to realise what he’s missed.”
Hyacinth could barely contain her excitement. She sensed the tension between them, the unspoken words lingering in the air. It was clear to her, at least, that Colin was more invested than he was willing to admit.
Leaning in a bit closer to catch every word, she felt Felicity nudge her arm, grinning ear to ear. "This is getting interesting," Felicity whispered.
Hyacinth nodded eagerly. "Oh, it certainly is," she murmured back, her eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before them.
Penelope laughed softly, the sound warm and genuine. “Thank you, Colin,” she murmured. “You always know just what to say.”
Colin’s expression softened, his gaze lingering on her. “Of course. What are friends for?”
Penelope’s smile faltered slightly. “Yes… Friends.”
Hyacinth had to resist the urge to yell at her brother. Seriously, Colin? Friends?! Suddenly, Gregory shifted and made a noise, causing Colin and Penelope to glance over in their direction. Hyacinth quickly grabbed Gregory’s arm and whispered, “Stay still, you dolt!”
Colin frowned, though his smile didn’t disappear entirely. “And what do we have here?” he called out, clearly addressing the eavesdroppers.
Penelope turned, a small smile playing at her lips as she spotted Hyacinth, Felicity, and Gregory awkwardly trying to hide behind a rosebush.
Hyacinth stood up sheepishly, knowing they’d been caught. “We were just… admiring the roses!” she declared, attempting to sound innocent.
Colin laughed. “Of course you were,” he said, shaking his head in amusement. “Did you lose our refreshments on the way here?”
“Gregory distracted us on our way there and we completely forgot about the lemonade,” Felicity replied smoothly, earning a glare from Gregory for shifting the blame onto him but he stayed quiet.
Colin, still smiling, gave them a mock-stern look. “Well, then, off you go. I expect a proper glass of lemonade next time,” he teased, and with a wave of his hand, the trio finally turned to leave.
As they made their way back toward the heart of the party, Hyacinth could hear Lady Featherington’s voice drifting across the garden, louder and more animated than usual. “Oh, I’m certain of it!” she exclaimed, her face alight with excitement. “I’m going to have a third daughter married by the end of the season. Penelope has a secret admirer sending her the most romantic letters!” Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, but not low enough to avoid being overheard. “I’d wager he’s quite an eligible gentleman.”
Hyacinth raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to Felicity. “Only one letter, and she speaks as if it’s been a dozen!” she murmured.
Felicity grinned and gave a small nod. “She does have a talent for embellishment, doesn’t she?” she whispered back. Then, a spark of mischief lit up Felicity’s eyes. She glanced around to make sure no one was paying too much attention and then sidled up to her mother.
“Mama,” she began in a low voice, careful to sound as if she were merely making an offhand remark. “Perhaps Philippa's guess wasn't so very far off after all... Did you notice how quickly Mr. Colin Bridgerton approached Penelope upon our arrival? And how they’ve been conversing and laughing together?”
Lady Featherington’s eyes widened, and her expression brightened with barely-contained glee. She needed no further encouragement. “Colin Bridgerton?” she repeated, louder than necessary, her voice now brimming with a conspiratorial thrill. “Oh, of course! They have known each other since they were children, haven’t they? And just look at them now… walking together, so cosily,” she continued, fanning herself in delight as she eyed Colin and Penelope taking a turn about the garden.
It took only a moment for her words to spread among the nearby guests, who cast curious glances in Colin and Penelope’s direction. While some eyebrows rose at the suggestion—after all, Colin Bridgerton was considered one of the most eligible bachelors of the season, and Penelope, despite her recent improvements in attire and appearance, was still the quiet wallflower few took notice of—the whispers began to circulate rapidly.
“Colin Bridgerton and Miss Penelope Featherington?” a lady murmured to her companion, her tone sceptical.
“Surely not,” her friend replied, her fan fluttering in excitement. “But… they do appear rather engrossed in conversation.”
Across the garden, another lady leaned toward her husband. “Did you hear? Lady Featherington claims Mr. Bridgerton is courting her daughter!”
“Colin Bridgerton?” he replied, incredulous. “I thought he had his sights set elsewhere.”
“But it would explain why they’re so familiar,” another voice chimed in. “And he has always been fond of her, hasn't he?”
Hyacinth couldn’t help but smile at the growing buzz around them. Felicity's subtle comment had done exactly what she'd hoped—set the gossips of the ton on fire. Portia Featherington, seeing the reactions from her audience, decided to add more fuel to the flames.
“Oh, but think of it!” she said, her voice taking on a wistful quality. “A love story that began in childhood, blossoming now before our very eyes… How could it not be true?”
By the time the party was drawing to a close, the speculation had only grown, the whispers becoming the main topic of conversation. Hyacinth exchanged a triumphant glance with Felicity, who smiled back with a look of pure satisfaction.
“Colin’s not going to know what hit him,” Gregory murmured, still chuckling under his breath.
Hyacinth grinned. “Oh, he’ll know, alright. And Penelope, too. But I do wonder,” she added thoughtfully, “what he’ll do next.”
Dear Gentle Reader,
If there is one thing that can always be counted upon at a gathering of the ton, it is that Lady Featherington will find a way to make it all about her family. And so it was at Lady Bothe’s garden party, where the good Lady was overheard proclaiming with great enthusiasm that she shall have a third daughter married by the end of the season. The reason for such confidence? A “secret admirer” who has allegedly taken a keen interest in Miss Penelope Featherington, the oldest of the unwed sisters.
But the plot thickens, dear reader, for it seems that this secret admirer is none other than Mr. Colin Bridgerton—or so Lady Featherington would have us believe. According to her overheated imagination, the childhood friendship between Mr. Bridgerton and Miss Featherington has blossomed into something much more, and it was quite the topic of conversation as the two were seen enjoying a rather lengthy and animated discussion amidst the full blooms of the garden.
However, before we all begin to imagine ourselves at the wedding breakfast, This Author must caution against taking Lady Featherington’s tales at face value. We have not forgotten that just last season, Mr. Bridgerton himself declared, in no uncertain terms, that he had no intention of courting Miss Featherington—much to the lady’s disappointment, no doubt. And while Miss Penelope’s new wardrobe has certainly turned a few heads, it remains to be seen if it can turn the head of a certain Mr. Bridgerton.
It would also not be the first time that Lady Featherington has allowed her imagination to run away with her. After all, this is the same woman who once declared that a simple compliment on a bonnet was “an undeniable sign of courtship”. This Author would advise all sensible readers to reserve judgement on this latest supposed match. For while a childhood friendship may be charming, it does not always lead to a love match—especially when one party is one of the most eligible bachelors in London, and the other… well, is Miss Penelope Featherington.
But who knows, dear reader? Perhaps this time, Lady Featherington’s musings will prove true. Stranger things have happened. Until then, we wait, we watch, and we listen—ever so carefully.
LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 16 MAY 1815