Chapter Text
Sunlight poured through the tall windows of the study, catching upon motes of dust that danced like golden threads in the still air. The warmth of the late afternoon settled over the spines of well-loved books lining the shelves, casting the room in a quiet sort of reverence. For once, the Bridgerton household was silent - emptied by errands, calls, and the rare blessing of an afternoon alone.
Penelope gasped softly as her back met the edge of Anthony’s desk, her gloved hand reaching behind her for balance. The wood was warm beneath her palm. Anthony stood before her, close - deliberately so - his arms braced on either side of her, trapping her in with nothing but breath and heat and a hunger that had simmered for days.
His nose traced a line up the column of her throat, stopping just beneath her ear. His lips brushed the delicate skin there, and she shivered as he drew the lobe between his teeth.
“They are gone,” he murmured, voice thick with promise. “At long last.”
Her fingers fumbled with the buttons of his waistcoat, her pulse racing beneath her stays. “Is there something you wished to do while we are so - conveniently alone?”
He drew back slightly, just enough to look at her, his mouth hovering above hers.
“There is nothing I wish to do,” he said, voice low and rich, “so much as taste you.”
A quiet whimper escaped her lips. “Anthony…”
He grinned - wolfish and unbearably confident - before he caught her mouth with his.
The kiss was anything but decorous. Their lips clashed, open and eager, the days of restraint unraveling with a single breath. Her hands slid up into his hair, pulling him closer, and he groaned against her, one hand already seeking the hem of her skirts.
“I shall feast upon you,” he murmured against her mouth, “slowly… until you forget every name but mine.”
Heat bloomed low in her belly. Her breath came quick and shallow.
“Oh God,” she moaned.
“No,” he whispered, laughing softly, wickedly. “Only me.”
His fingers had just brushed against the heat between her thighs when the door flew open with a bang.
“Anthony! Humboldt said everyone else was out, but you - ”
Colin stopped mid-step.
Penelope froze. Anthony turned sharply, positioning himself between her and the door in one practiced motion, shielding her from view.
Colin stared, blinking as though the scene before him might rearrange itself into something innocent. It did not. Penelope’s skirts were rumpled, her face flushed, her lips kiss-swollen, and the red imprint of Anthony’s mouth marked her throat like a brand.
“What… What in God’s name - ?”
Colin stared at them - at Anthony standing between Penelope and the door, at her disheveled appearance, the telltale signs of intimacy writ plainly across her skin.
“What in God’s name is the meaning of this?” he demanded, his voice rising. “Have you lost your senses?”
Anthony’s expression remained carefully composed, though his body was taut with irritation. “You would do well to knock, Colin.”
“You would do well not to debase her,” Colin snapped, striding further into the study. “Is this how you conduct yourself now? Luring her into empty rooms like some common scoundrel?”
Penelope stirred behind Anthony, her cheeks still flushed, but she stepped forward just enough to speak.
“No one lured me,” she said quietly.
Colin advanced a step, fury rising. “You’ve compromised her! In your study? In the middle of the day?”
“She is not compromised,” Anthony said, his voice like steel. “Nor is this your concern.”
Colin ignored him. His eyes fixed on Penelope. “Pen, I beg you - come away from him.”
“She is not leaving with you,” Anthony said, stepping closer. “And you are not to speak to her as though she’s been preyed upon. She is not a child.”
“You arrogant, reckless bastard,” Colin hissed. “You’ve seduced her - when you have no intention of offering for her, I suppose? You’ll ruin her - destroy her reputation - and for what? An afternoon’s indulgence?”
Anthony’s expression darkened. “Mind your words.”
Colin’s gaze flashed to Penelope again, and the disbelief gave way to something harder. “Do you think this will remain a secret? That the servants haven’t already guessed? She will be shamed, and you - you - will walk away untouched.”
“Enough,” Anthony snapped. “You speak as if she were incapable of consent. As if she were not - ”
Penelope placed a hand on Anthony’s arm, trying to calm him.
But Colin had reached his limit.
“I will not allow you to ruin her.”
He stepped forward and reached for her hand.
Anthony struck his arm away. “Do. Not. Touch. Her.”
Colin’s face twisted. “Then I will remove you by force.”
Anthony moved to intercept him, putting his body fully between Penelope and his brother.
“I have warned you.”
Colin surged forward with a snarl, his fist swinging upward.
Anthony shifted to block it - but too late to see Penelope stepping forward.
Colin’s fist struck her squarely across the cheek.
She gave a strangled cry - more shock than pain - as her head snapped to the side. She reeled backward, one foot tangling in the hem of her skirts, and fell.
The side of her head hit the edge of the marble mantel with a dull, terrible crack.
Then she crumpled to the floor.
For a heartbeat, no one moved.
Then Anthony was on his knees beside her, catching her before her head struck the floor again. Blood was already seeping into her hair, staining the fine wool of his sleeve.
“Penelope,” he breathed, voice ragged. “No, no - my darling - please - ”
She was limp in his arms. Unconscious.
He pressed trembling fingers to her throat. There - a fluttering pulse.
“Stay with me,” he whispered. “You must stay with me.”
Behind him, Colin stood frozen, the blood drained from his face.
“I - I didn’t mean - ” His voice cracked. “I didn’t see her - I didn’t know - ”
Anthony didn’t look at him. “Go.”
“I’ll fetch the doctor,” Colin whispered hoarsely, already turning to flee.
The door slammed behind him.
Anthony gathered Penelope against his chest, rocking slightly. Her blood was warm against his hand.
“I have you,” he murmured, over and over. “I have you. Just hold on.”
The door burst open moments later.
“Anthony?” Violet’s voice rang with confusion and alarm. “What on earth -”
She stopped, gasped, and her gloved hand flew to her mouth.
Eloise and Hyacinth crowded in behind her. Eloise stumbled backward at the sight; Hyacinth gave a strangled cry.
Benedict pushed through them all and froze at the sight: Anthony on the floor, Penelope in his arms, blood staining the rug.
“What happened?” Violet demanded, her voice breaking.
“Colin,” Anthony said without looking up. “He tried to strike me. Penelope moved between us.”
“She is bleeding - ” Eloise choked.
“Colin has gone for the physician,” Benedict said quickly. “I saw him running as though the devil himself were after him.”
Violet crossed the room, her gloved hand hovering near Penelope’s brow. “Anthony…”
“She hasn’t woken,” he said hollowly. “She hasn’t made a sound.”
Violet turned. “Eloise, tell the staff to prepare a room for her - linens, hot water, bandages. Now.”
Eloise nodded and fled.
Hyacinth stood frozen in the doorway, eyes wide with horror.
Anthony lowered his forehead to Penelope’s.
“You cannot leave me,” he whispered. “Not like this. Not now.”
Her body was limp in his arms, but he would not let go.
Not yet.
Not when there was still the faintest beat beneath his fingers - and a lifetime’s worth of love he hadn’t yet spoken aloud.