Chapter Text
April 1, 1814.
Colin paced impatiently behind his gathered family members, all waiting outside his sister’s door. His attention was on the door next to Eloise's, however, ear attentive to any sound emanating from the redhead's room. It is not as though he held no concern over his sister, he was equally anxious for her presentation and forthcoming debut. I was just that, with every pair of eyes focused on the brunette’s door, who was going to spare a glance for the redhead’s, if not him?
“Is this the plan?” He heard a familiar voice say. He looked up to see the duch*ess of Hastings approaching them. He smiled at her with fondness and went to hug her. He has missed her so.
“Daphne, thank goodness you’re here,” their mothers said as they separated.
“She requested time,” Benedict answered Daphne's question.
“We do not have time. Stand back,” the elder his sister reached for the handle.
“No offence, sister, but you are the last person she’d wish to see,” Benedict replied.
All of them began speaking at the same time, their voices blending into background noise as his ear catched the handle next door being turned. Three Bridgerton maids and Rae exited the bedchamber, all with pleased smiles on their faces. His heart warmed at their expressions, unsurprisingly the petite guest had charmed the staff with little difficulty on the five days she’d been living with them, she had surely made their help that morning an easy feat. The contrast was laughable as Eloise’s own door opened and the maids exited with a grimace and hurried steps.
Both girls came out almost at the same time. He forced himself to look at his sister first.
“If any of you utters a single word,” Eloise threatened. Her sour tone left no doubt as to why her maids made their escape.
“I think you look lovely, Miss Eloise.” Penelope’s sweet came from the other side of the small crowd. He could not see her behind Anthony and his mother, so he paid attention instead to Eloise’s reaction, ready to scold her if she misspoke to their guest.
His sister's eyes, however, softened slightly. She approached the redhead and entwined their arms, a gesture she had swiftly grown accustomed to in the past days, leading the other girl forward.
“Thank you. You look quite incomparabl-y,” she complimented in turn, rudely pulling Pen away from them, marching past him. “And I told you, you can drop the ‘miss’, just Eloise is fine by me.”
“Eloise,” he found another reason to nag her. “I don’t believe you’ve given Miss Featherington the chance to greet our sister.” He gestured to Daphne, still standing next to him.
“Miss Featherington, Daphne, Daphne, Miss Featherington. There we go, you met. Now, let’s get this over with.” She hurried her steps.
“But I–” He threw his arms in the air. She did not even graced them with a turn of her head, or a stop on her steps, she rounded the corner before he could properly scold her or even fully appreciate Pen’s form. He only had time to appreciate her back and the side of her face as she tried to look back.
“We should hurry along,” his mother said.
Daphne touched his arm and she passed by him.
“We shall be introduced properly on the carriage, do not fret.”
But he had desired to be the one to make the introduction. Not only because he longed for his dear sister to meet his most cherished friend and witness their interaction, hoping she would embrace her as warmly as the rest of his family had. It was also because it would have provided a pretext to stand near Penelope and revel in her presence a few moments longer than he was, now, permitted. Over the past five days, he had scarcely glimpsed her, as Eloise monopolised her time. And when his territorial sister finally released her from her grasp, Hyacinth claimed her attention, or she was back at her bedchamber, resting. Their encounters were fleeting, always across the room, either in the company of her sisters or his mother, never alone. Thus, their exchanges were limited to formal greetings and brief conversations at the dining table during meals. Even then, their discussions were shared with the entire family, each member seemingly intent on diverting her focus away from him.
He sighed as followed his family outside to the awaiting carriages, cursing himself for faltering and missing the chance to at least help Pen into the ladies’ carriage –Gregory beat him to it– and joined his brothers inside their own.
Eloise looked as anxious as she felt, sweating and wildly winding her face with the fan she snatched from her sister’s hand. It reminded her of Felicity, and her heart ached at the memory, the time she couldn’t find Mrs. Varley’s baby chicken. She had panicked and cried, she had to console her until Prudence –begrudgingly, that is– admitted where Philipa had hidden it. All four of them were scolded and grounded that evening, despite the prank being only her older sister’s doing.
Eloise’s sisters seemed to be trying to comfort her as well, but to no avail. The duch*ess’ advice, at the very least, sounded useful.
“I am quite nervous myself,” she whispered to the brunette beside her. Eloise had taken the seat by the window, so Penelope sat between her and Lady Bridgerton. Her Grace, Hyacinth and their sister Francesca took the seats in front of them. “I fear, were I not in the middle seat, I might’ve flown through the window already.” Eloise let out a small laugh between her deep breaths.
“Oh, Miss Featherington, please do not give her any ideas,” Lady Bridgerton said, only half joking.
“Is it alright if I take your hand?” Penelope asked, holding it out for the second Bridgerton daughter to take. “It would bring me great comfort.”
“Of course,” Eloise answered, placing her sweaty hand into her smaller one. “You will be fine,” she reassured the redhead. “It is just a short walk, really, and I will be beside you–” she looked at her mother panicked. “We shall enter together, correct?” Her mother nodded and Eloise relaxed slightly. “It will be a short walk and then we’ll be out.”
“That is good to hear,” Penelope said, placing her other hand over their joined hands. Eloise’s breaths slowed down as she kept looking at the window.
For all her loud rejection and wearines over physical contact, it took Penelope just two days to notice how starved for contact the taller girl was. Wherever they were together she would almost always find a moment to touch Penelope, be it by linking her arms to lead her anywhere, sitting too close when they read together or claiming her as her partner for dancing lessons. Penelope felt oddly like a brand new toy at first, as though Eloise was saying ‘I touched it so is mine’, but when Hyacinth made a comment about Eloise’s loneliness and lack of friends, the redhead could only sympathise. Has she not latched to Colin when they became closer? Besides, she was her brother’s sister.
Being with Colin made her accustomed to being touched, by someone whose company she enjoyed, that’s it. And she greatly enjoyed Eloise. Their little discussions in the library or out in the garden, when they could be side by side without exchanging a word became precious to her, filling a hole she did not think needed to be filled until it was: friendship. It was different than with Colin, Hyacinth, Rae or even Felicity. Eloise was a girl and she was her age, their thoughts and interests aligned better in some ways, they worked together well and she dearly hoped if one day Colin decided –by some unfortunate turn– to end things, her friendship with Eloise would endure.
She could feel Lady Bridgerton’s smile in her direction.
“Forgive me, Miss Featherington, but I neglected to greet you earlier,” the duch*ess said, bringing her attention towards her.
Daphne Basset, like her siblings, possessed the gifts of grace and beauty, along with a regal air that echoed the very essence of a princess from Penelope's cherished tales. It was truly not hard to see how she had been the incomparable of her season. And why Eloise might feel under so much pressure.
“That is alright, it slipped my mind,” the smaller girl said. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Grace. I have heard many good things about you.”
“And I you,” said the duch*ess. She gestured to Hyacinth. “This one here sent me a lengthy letter the day you arrived, claiming I simply must hurry my pace and meet you.”
“Miss Hyacinth is very kind to me, I am sure she showered me with praise, I can only hope I might measure to.”
“I had not exaggerated a single word,” the youngest Bridgerton declared. “I say, you’ll certainly surpass them.”
Penelope blushed. It seemed to her that Colin’s eagerness to touch her went to Eloise whilst his need to praise her went to Hyacinth.
“I ought to agree with Hyacinth, you are much more beautiful than her letter described, and quite charming, indeed. I can see why our brother is so taken with her.” She said the last amusedly to Hyacinth.
“Y-your brother?” Penelope blushed further, wishing to snatch the fan from Eloise’s hand.
“Gregory,” Hyacinth answered with a roll of her eyes. “He has gotten it into his head that he stands a chance with you.”
Eloise snorts.
“Has anyone informed him you’re here for the season? If your mama was desperate enough to send you to us, I highly doubt she’d be eager to wait for your husband-to-be to learn his sums.”
“Eloise!” Her older sister and mother exclaimed at the same time.
Used by now to Eloise’s loose tongue, Penelope thought even if her family situation was true, she would not take offence on her friend for pointing it out.
“Though I am flattered, Miss Eloise is quite right. I must look for a match amongst those who are eligible.”
“And preferably not a prepubertal gremlin,” Eloise muttered lowly.
“And what would you be lookin in a match?” Lady Bridgerton asked with interest. The duch*ess leaned forward, interested as well in the topic.
She did not have to think longer, she needed only to close her eyes and her dream match’s face would appear in mind. But she could hardly say ‘your son’. That would be scandalous, she was sure.
“Good Lord, mother. Can’t you at least wait until we’re officially out?” Eloise protested.
“I believe I was asking Miss Featherington, not you,” her mother scolded. “But you do not have to answer now if you do not want to, dear,” she told Penelope.
“It is alright,” she said. She thought her answer, thinking perhaps if Lady Bridgerton knew her attachment to her son was genuine, she might approve of them in the future. “I want… I suppose, someone kind, and polite. A gentleman.” She thought about the things she so loved about Colin. “A good man, honourable and compassionate. Sensitive. Someone who would cherish and love me. Charming! Someone who makes me laugh and would enjoy the books I recommend. And recommend books to me!” She thought back to their last rendezvous at the library, her heart melted and a dreamy smile appeared on her face. “Someone who would spend the evening reading next to me, we wouldn’t even need to talk, just keep each other’s company.” She sighed, missing those little moments they used to have. It had yet to be a full week and it was already torture.
“So, a friend,” Eloise pointed out. “Why would you look for a man when we both already do that.”
Penelope giggled.
“That’s precisely what I want,” the plump girl said. “I wish to marry a man I can call my friend.”
“I always tell my children that friendship is the best fundamention for a marriage,” Lady Bridgerton said, voice laced with approval.
“I can attest to that,” Daphne said, smiling softly. “My husband and I fell into friendship before we fell in love. I truly wish you can find it this season.”
“I hope so too,” Penelope blushed.
“Trust that I shall help you find it, dear,” Lady Bridgerton said, eyes sparking. She exchanged a smile with her older daughter.
“Thank you,” Penelope said, face not quite losing the blush. “But if that is too much to ask, I suppose a large library shall suffice,” she joked, trying to light the mood.
Hearing his brother enumerate the qualities he sought in a bride served as a reminder of why Eloise being such a gatekeeper when it came to Penelope's time was not entirely unwelcome. Anthony had not spent enough time in Penelope's company to subject her to one of his meticulous 'interviews'. His fairy deserved more than to be scrutinised and assessed as if she were naught but a mere commodity.
If Penelope were to ever marry, her husband should not wonder what she had to offer, instead he should wonder what he had to offer her, wonder how he could ever measure up to the role. Honestly, he pitied the hypothetical bastard. To spend a lifetime with a woman you could never truly merit must surely be a unique form of torment for any man with a conscience.
Anthony was a great brother, a good man and a spectacular Viscount. But he was not the man for Penelope. Not him, not Benedict, definitely not Gregory. He needn’t think longer to deduce there was not a worthy gentleman amid the Ton, not a man willing to spend the rest of his days on his knees for the little goddess.
It relieved greatly to remember Penelope’s words. She had no interest in entertaining suitors, and he believed her. However, it would do no harm to personally ensure no interest was ever roused in her little heart. The dreadful thought of it being broken by some cad pained him deeply.
“Do you think The Queen shall choose Miss Featherington as the incomparable?” Gregory asked, to the amusem*nt of the two eldest brothers.
“Have some faith in our sister, mayhaps?” Benedict chuckled.
“She looked lovely,” Gregory shrugged, giving them a cheeky smile. ““I dare say she’d be glad if the queen ignored her in favour of Miss Featherington.” he added. “Eloise did called her incomparable, herself,”
“I cannot say,” Colin replied. “Eloise whisked her away so swiftly that I only glimpsed a flash of red.” He endeavoured to conceal any hint of bitterness about it in his tone as he spoke. “But, I am confident that our sister and Miss Featherington shall undoubtedly make a favourable impression in the presence of Her Majesty, regardless.”
He hoped the Queen would choose another lady as her incomparable this season. Not because he did not wish well on the girls. Simply because he knew his sister would be infinitely happier that way, and he did not need Penelope catching the attention of every eligible gentleman in the Ton with the queen’s favour.
Finally, they reached Her Majesty's Palace. Sadly, the three and a half Bridgerton men arrived before the ladies and Pen, and were rapidly escorted to the courtroom. So the honour of helping the red head out of her carriage would go then to a footman.
His eyes would have to appreciate her sight at the same time as everyone else, it seemed.
Eloise rambled about the book she was currently reading, blissfully ignoring the shortening line of ladies and their mothers, each pair taking their turn and entering the big room with hopeful eyes. Penelope heard her with rapid attention, and offered commentary when her friend seemed lost at what to say next. She needed the distraction as much as the tall girl did.
Lady Bridgerton, meanwhile, carefully arranged the girls' feathers and gowns. Her hands moved delicately, and she remained quiet, not wanting to interrupt their discussion, perhaps fearsome that whatever word she pronounced would send her daughter back into trepidation.
Too soon, the line was down to two mamas and their daughters, shortly it’d be their turn.
“Eloise,” Penelope said softly, for once forgetting the property she was taught. “I brought us something. It is silly, but it might help.” She discreetly reached into the hem of her decollete, retrieving a pair of four leaf clovers. When she looked up Eloise was red faced, looking wide eyed to the side. She waved one of the clovers in front of her face to catch her attention again.
“Oh,” Eloise said when she gazed at the little weed. “Lucky us,” she laughed. “You must’ve spent a lot of time looking for them, I never caught one.”
Penelope nodded, despite it being untrue. She did not really have to look for them longer, she simply made each clover grow an additional leaf. While it could be said that they were fake, their luckness was real, for they had a bit of her magic within.
Though Lady Bridgerton was still circling them and making sure they were impeccable, Penelope could tell she was paying attention to their conversation, by the fond smile on her face.
“It is not silly,” Eloise said, taking the offered charm. “Thank you.”
“It is nothing.”
“No, I mean,” the brunette took a deep breath. She looked at her mother, and this one took the hint, taking some steps away, to chatter with another mama nearby. “I know what you’ve been doing, soothing my nerves, and I am truly grateful for your efforts. I find solace in the knowledge that I need not face this ordeal in solitude.” She smiled at the other girl
“I feel the same,” Penelope said, smiling back at her.
Both girls stood side by side, fixing their clovers discreetly between their feathers, as they waited for their turn to be presented. While the room was abuzz with the excited chatter of young debutantes behind them and their doting mothers, the two friends remained focused on their breathing, drawing strength from each other.
A loud male voice from inside the room brought them back to reality:
“Miss Penelope Featherington and Miss Eloise Bridgerton. Presented by the Right Honourable, the Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton!”
“It is us, girls,” Lady Bridgerton whispered gently, guiding them forward with a hand on each of their backs. “No matter what happens, I do believe you two are incomparable,” she said as the doors opened.
Penelope's heart skipped a beat as she walked into the grand ballroom, her gaze darting around the opulent room. Chandeliers that sparkled like the stars above hung from the ceiling, reflecting the light that seeped through the tall windows. The walls were adorned with paintings and mirrors that seemed to stretch on for eternity, while the floors were intricately tiled, each pattern a work of art.
She was startled when a hand reached her own tentatively. Eloise was a step behind, unable to take the next, panicking again. She took her hand, giving an encouraging smile, despite feeling quite uncertain herself. Her companion clasped her hand, the warmth of the touch serving to soothe Penelope's fluttering nerves. Hand in hand, the two young ladies proceeded towards the dais where the Queen awaited.
The queen's beauty and extravagance stunned Penelope nearly as much as the white and gold room had. A tall woman with dark skin and white intricate hairstyle –a wig, she remembered Colin mentioning once–, a dress completely different from the rest of the ladies she’ve seen before, a hard and flattening bodice that did not stop beneath her chest and a skirt so wide it occupied most of the furniture, spilling gracefully to the floor. Her posture was bored, lounging on her elegant chair in the way Hyacinth had forbidden her, though she supposed, a queen was allowed to sh*t however she pleased, and her expression mildly interested, though she raised her eyebrows at the pair's hands. Around her, ladies with similar gowns and wigs as her held fluffy beings, some had pelts white as her wig and a few light brown, as the toast Colin used to serve her for breakfast each morning, their little back eyes and snouts the only visible thing in the bundles of hair. She wished she could pet them, they reminded her of Felicity's bunnies.
Her heart tugged at the thought of her sister. She would’ve loved to be here, and meet those creatures.
Unable to retain eye contact with the monarch, she looks to the crowd as she passes by and she catched the one pair of dark blue eyes she wouldn’t mind looking at for the rest of her life.
Colin subtly nodded at her, his handsome face barely containing a smile. Her heart fluttered again, but this time with delight at the pride and tenderness his eyes radiated. It could very well be directed at his sister, but she felt singled out by him, she felt in her heart that such a look was for her and her alone. She returned his smile, delivering it to the whole family as well. Hyacinth waved excitedly, Gregory shyly, Francesca, Benedict and Anthony nodded their heads with a polite smile and Daphne was too busy telling Eloise to smile and to look forward.
Both girls followed the duch*ess' instruction, smiling at the Queen, perhaps a tad awkwardly. But it could not be said they did not try.
As they approached, a momentary hesitation caused their steps to falter slightly, yet they swiftly composed themselves just in time for the graceful curtsey. The soft rustle of their gowns filled the grand chamber as they elegantly lowered themselves, their heads coming as near the polished floor as they could. She saw the Queen’s feet move under her skirt, lazily as if she had not yet decided if she would get up. Penelope hoped she wouldn’t.
A loud bark, followed by two more, startled the room. Both girls looked up, surprised.
A butterfly fluttered past them, somehow infiltrating itself in the room, capturing the attention of the Queen's fluffy companions, who bounded off the ladies’ arms eagerly, barking fervently in pursuit of the elusive insect. Startled by the sudden commotion, Her Majesty rose from her seat to summon her wayward pets back. Her ladies nervously tried to reach for the leashes, but the furry balls ran faster, it was up to the footmen to catch them.
The disruption seemed to sour the Queen's mood, as she settled back into her throne and, with a dismissive wave of her hand, signalled for the young ladies to depart. She looked most embarrassed than angry, Penelope noted.
Lady Bridgerton hurried them forward, the three of them quickly to the exit behind the throne.
“I do not know what happened, those dogs are usually so well behaved,” Lady Bridgerton commented once they were inside the new room. She sounded afflicted as she scratched her head.
“Perhaps they woke up fuzzy today,” Penelope offered, feeling the urge to comfort the older woman.
“It is over, is it no?” Eloise asked, not yet relaxing. “Can we go home now?”
“We might have to linger a little bit, but yes, I do believe we’re done here.” She placed her hand on each of the girls’ cheeks warmly. “It was unfortunate, but you two are not at fault for it, you both did well.”
Eloise chuckled, a relieved smile on her face.
“Unfortunate?” she asked, taking her feathers off her head, retrieving the clover. “I’d say this was most fortunate.” She waved the little leaves victoriously. “I am never taking this off, I admit I did not believe they worked at first but, what are the odds!” She took one of the pins from her hair to attach the green weed into her gown, right above her heart.
Penelope giggled and Violet smiled despite herself, amusem*nt and fondness for her daughter making her eyes shine beautifully.
The motherly woman turned to the red head, eyes searching her face.
“What about you, dear? I never did ask if you held any aspiration to the Queen’s favour.” She sounded remorseful, so Pen was quick to assure her.
“I held none. In fact, I have to say I share Miss Eloise’s contentment. I did not wish for the pressure such a compliment would bring.” She thought for a second before adding. “I do hope she selects a lady who wishes for it and can bear it gracefully.”
Violet’s warm smile was one Penelope would never tire of receiving, they felt healing, somehow, as if it had the power to mend the empty spaces within her heart and bring a sense of momentary completeness. Colin inherited her smile.
The ride home was oddly peaceful. Most likely because Colin was ignoring Anthony’s anxious rant about the rebellious puppies. He simply looked out the window, reminiscing Penelope’s entrance, his brain already conjuring sentences to write down in his journal when he reached the privacy of his room.
The corner of his mouth tugged up, remembering her curious cerulean eyes taking in the room, absorbing every detail in wonder. She was a vision in her gown, the lightest yellow, to his surprise, near white with golden patterns, complimenting her skin charmingly, bringing out the rosy of her round cheeks and the vibrant colour of her hair. Though he greatly adored seeing it down, her up hairstyle had its merits, exposing her lovely neck and the necklace –his necklace– she wore. Like her usual dresses, this one provided a generous yet tastefully modest view of her décolletage. The cut, however, stopped beneath the bust, only lightly snugged at the waist and flowed down her hips, its roundness teasing the viewer when she walked and hiding whenever she stood still.
Though it was a relief Her Majesty ultimately decided to not place the favour on her, Colin secretly judged her sight in the freedom of his mind. Were he the one to decide, Penelope would’ve been revered as the matchless, divine creature she was. He would decreet her so perfect, she ought to remain untouched, not gentlemen around worth breathing the same air as her.
This time it was the ladies who arrived first, when Colin and his brothers entered the house, Pen and Eloise were already upstairs, being changed into their day gowns by their maids.
His brothers stepped into the study, but he did not join them, instead he walked to the drawing room, where his mother and sisters sat on the round table, chattering as they drank their tea. Save for Fancesca, who was already on the piano, her talented fingers moved over the keys, inducing a relaxing melody in the background.
“May I join in?” He asked as he approached them.
“Of course, dear,” his mother said, gesturing for the empty chair Fran left between Daphne and Hyacinth.
“How long will you stay?” he asked the duch*ess as he sat down.
“Sadly, I should be parting after breakfast tomorrow, Simon and Auggie are waiting back home and I cannot say which would grow more restless the longer I am away,” she chuckled as she rubbed her belly, which was starting to show up. He gazed warmly at it, though it saddened him to hear she would not stay long, he was happy for his little sister and her growing family.
He reached for her hand.
“I had missed you,” he said in honesty.
“And I you, brother.” She turned to her sisters and mother. “All of you, really. I cannot wait to dine with you all once again. I even missed Hy and Greg’s little fights.”
“That he starts!” Hyacinth added quickly. Then she did the thing that made him want to have her around most of the time, she brought up his fairy unprompted: “And you shall have the opportunity to become better acquainted with Pen.”
“You should have to seat her away from Eloise for that,” Fran commented from her spot as she arranged a new sheet and began playing another tune.
Violet laughed.
“Yes, she is quite taken with Miss Featherington.”
“She seems like a sweet girl,” the duch*ess commented, smiling. She is the sweetest! He wanted to add, but had to bite his tongue, not wanting to give away how eager he was about this topic. “It is nice to see El getting along with a lady of her same age. I might not have spent much time with them, but their bond seemed genuine.”
“They had been inseparable ever since she arrived,” Colin commented, serving himself a cup of tea.
“Indeed, they spend most of their free time either in the library or out in the garden.” Violet sipped her own cup.
“The closeness between them is quite evident; I have not witnessed Eloise being comforted so readily before. We were indeed fortunate to have Miss Featherington in our company.” His heart warmed at his sister’s comment.
“Pen plays with me as well!” Hyacinth added, not wanting her own friendship with the little red head to be omitted. “Eloise doesn’t like playing princess with my dolls so rarely joins us, but Pen always does. She likes to regale us with the most amusing stories too, she never fails to entertain.”
Penelope had mentioned she enjoyed writing for her sister, but she had yet to share one of her stories with her. A small part of him was hurt that she felt comfortable sharing it with his little sisters, if he was being honest. Hurt and perhaps a tad envious.
“That is good to know. I do hope this friendship continues and blooms beautifully. Let us hope that Penelope will still grace us with her presence even after she finds her match.” His sister’s words halt the lovely conversation they were having. Though he could tell aside from him, only Hyacinth felt the same way.
“If she does,” Anthony’s voice interrupted the conversation as he entered the room, Gregory in tail. He supposed Benedict went back to his studio, he had mentioned a gift for their returned sister.
“Why do you mean?” Violet asked, put off by her son’s negativism.
“After the dismissive way Her Majesty gave them leave, I dare say finding a husband should require more effort than most ladies this season.”
Good, let us hope that is the case, Colin thought.
“You exaggerate!” Daphne protested. “It was not their fault, those puppies were the ones who angered the Queen. El and Miss Featherington did their best, they were quite charming, in fact. Any gentlemen present would agree.”
“But not most gentlemen were part of the eligible ones, and in the end it does not matter what happened, all that shall matter is what it is said afterwards, and not very kind comment has reached my ears since.” He huffed, standing near the table, posture stiff.
“Perhaps it’s for the best,” Hyacinth said. All eyes turned to her. “Eloise does not wish to marry, not yet at least.”
“Well I have no doubt Eloise is pleased with the outcome, but what about Miss Featherington?” Violet asked. “She came here precisely to be wed. I do not think she would see that way”
Hyacinth shrugged.
“She does not seem too aggravated.”
“Perhaps she does not understand the implications–” His mother turned to his older brother, irritation clear in her eyes.
“You speak as though it is impossible. The Queen did not show favour to any of the ladies, in case you hadn’t noticed.” She passed him a macaroon and pointed to the settee on the other side of the room. “Perhaps you could allow us to continue with our conversation while you ponder on what’s truly bothering you.”
The siblings had to contain their chuckles as they watched the Dowager Viscountess scold their older brother as if he was still a little boy. Anthony accepted the pastry and walked the settee, proceeding to angrily read the newspaper on the table beside it.
“I agree with you, mother,” Daphne said. “It is not entirely hopeless, especially knowing the kind of men Miss Featherington is looking for.”
“What men?” Colin asked before he could stop himself.
“I asked her earlier what she was looking for and I was delighted to hear she wishes for a love match.” His mother smiled brightly at him. “I will start a list of her own.”
“Are you?” he tried to sound mildly interested, but inside he was seething. Why was she feeding his mother’s romantic idealizations? The viscountess would get the wrong idea and start pushing men in her direction. Has he not been clear enough in the importance of not participating in marriage discussions?
“Yes, I do have some names in mind.” Frustratingly, she paused to sip her tea. “She wants a kind, charming gentleman.”Violet mused, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “I can think of a few who might fit that description. Lord Cho? He appears quite amicable.”
“Or mayhaps Mr. Rokesby, the middle one,” Daphne offered, referring to one of their distant cousins.
“Oh!” Hyacinth exclaimed. “I would love to have Pen married into the family. She would fit nicely with us. Don’t you think so, Colin?”
Colin felt his stomach twist into knots as his mother and sisters began discussing potential suitors for Penelope. He knew it was inevitable, given her recent debut into society, but he had hoped they would not latch on to the subject with so much enthusiasm.
“I believe our dear cousin would not be coming to London this season either.” And he was glad for it.
“Ah,” his mother said, setting her cup down. “It is a shame Lord Debling does not partake in the social seasons either. He would’ve been a handsome match.”
Colin clenched his jaw, trying to keep his expression neutral. The thought of that strange man sniffing around Penelope made him want to punch something. Or someone. Why would his mother even consider him? What ever did he have in common with the darling fairy? Plants? Birds? A marriage could not be based on such frivolous things.
“He’s dull,” he disapproved, words once more escaping his mouth before he could stop them.
“He is not, he’s quite charming,” his mother, for whatever reason, defended the bloke.
“Not to mention he is quite handsome and always so polite,” Daphne added. “I do believe Penelope would surely swoon if he meets him.”
“Mayhap we could extend an invitation to him for a ball or similar gathering, thus providing them with the opportunity to make each other's acquaintance.” Et tu, Francesca?
He had shared just one conversation with the gentleman. He thought nothing of it then, but looking back now, he found him utterly dull and insipid. He would bore Penelope to death! Everyone knew he liked his studies more than he liked people, Penelope did not deserve such a husband that would no doubt neglect her in favour of whatever animal he obsessed over. She deserved a husband that would make it his life mission to keep her entertained and laughing.
At least Hyacinth agreed with him, given by the disapproving scrunch of her nose. He observed Gregory's slight pout, attributing it more to his juvenile infatuation than any genuine objection to the potential match. He had taken a seat next to Fran on the piano, boredly looking over her sheets.
“Now, now, let's not get ahead of ourselves,” Violet chided gently, though she looked just as eager as her eldest daughter. “We'll need to consider and introduce Penelope to a variety of gentlemen before we start making any matches.”
Colin suppressed a groan. This was going to be a long, torturous season if his mother had her way.
Dining with the Bridgertons had quickly become one of her favourite moments of the day. No matter what topic they were discussing, everyone was included, they always kept the conversations appropriate so the youngest might join if they please. The aura of the room was amicable and warm, the food delicious and fulfilling. It seemed like even the staff made everything with love.
It was such a stark contrast to the usual meals at her home.
At the moment, the topic of conversation were the upcoming balls and events the season had to offer. Much to her relief, matchmaking plans were not mentioned. She didn’t want to give Colin the idea that she was seriously considering any gentleman Lady Bridgerton could offer, but she also did not want to sound too elusive if it was brought up.
“You will love Lady Danbury’s balls, Miss Featherington,” Lady Bridgerton assured as she cut into her meat. “They are simply stunning, she overdoes herself.” She pauses to eat. “Oh, and we should set an appointment with the modiste, as soon as we get the themes of the balls.”
She was seated at the side of the Viscountess, who occupied the head of the table. Francesca was seated beside the redhead, one of the departures from their usual arrangement. Typically, Penelope sat next to Eloise in the middle of the table, with Hyacinth on her other side. However, on this particular evening, Eloise had been relocated to the opposite end of the table, beside the Viscount and Gregory on her other side. Across from Penelope sat the duch*ess, with Colin positioned at her side— a position he seldom occupied, being closer to his brothers in usual circ*mstances. Hyacinth was seated next to Colin, while Benedict found himself at the other side of the Viscount.
"I have brought a few gowns," Penelope murmured shyly, though she was well aware that, no matter their beauty, they were not intended for a ball. Colin had been adamant that they reserve the dresses meant for such grand occasions until after her formal introduction. Madame Delacroix had already consulted with her on the designs and had nearly completed the sketches. Despite all these preparations, Penelope couldn't shake off the feeling of unease upon accepting Lady Bridgerton's generous offer. It felt different than receiving such gifts from Colin, with whom she shared a longer and more intimate acquaintance.
“Yes, I am sure, but I’ve been informed they’re evening gowns. We shall need special ones for the balls, like I said, they must follow the themes.”
Lady Bridgerton continued to discuss what she should be expecting from those gatherings, and she should probably pay attention, but she found it hard to listen to anything at all as her eyes caught Colin’s. Her cheeks felt warmer as he offered her a small smile, averting his eyes quickly and going back to his food. She did the same, hoping no one had caught their slip.
Her heart halted as the duch*ess looked between her and her brother, eyes sparkling with interest. Thankfully she decided to make no mention of it.
“Though regretfully I shall be unable to attend this season, I am sure Madame Delacroix will create the loveliest dresses for you. She possesses a truly enchanting touch when it comes to her designs.”
“She does,” Penelope replied without thinking, her mind remembering all the beautiful drawings the modiste saves in her journal. She is quick to recover. “I mean, that’s what I gather from the lovely gowns Lady Bridgerton and her daughters wear. Eloise’s gown for the Queen was marvellous.”
“Yours was marvellous as well, dear” Lady Featherington said. “I am sure the Queen was impressed, despite… well,” she gestured with her hand, referring to the fluffy interruption.
“Those puppies sure have a peculiar timing,” Daphne said lightly, sipping from her cup.
“Perfect timing, I would say,” added Eloise, raising her voice from the other end of the table. The brunette sent an annoyed look at her sister, Francesca, no doubt still resentful to the quiet girl for refusing her petition to switch seats.
“Well, speaking of timing,” the duch*ess remarked, placing her utensils with care upon the table. “I think it is high time for me to retire. This little one, though more manageable than Auggie, still manages to leave me quite fatigued by day's end.” With a tender gesture, she rose from her seat, cradling her belly affectionately.
Penelope looked at the gesture longingly. Once again the image of a chestnut-haired babe appeared in her mind. A part of her knew that it was too soon to be having those thoughts and she was far too young, but her lovesick brain had her nearly cooing at the idea. Colin would be a perfect father and companion, she dared say he was meant for it, and a possessive part of her longed to claim him for herself before another woman came to the same conclusion.
His mother was critical even of babies, and the Bridgertons produced cute one, she knew because she had seen the babies portraits from most of the siblings –even Colin’s, the cutests in her eyes– and she had seen Benedict’s gift to Daphne earlier: a small portrait of her baby, Auggie. She had no doubt Colin’s offspring would be the most adorable bunch of sweetlings that would meet Portia’s standards.
Having him so close after barely seeing him all day, it was inevitable for her eyes to size him up. He, too, had finished his dinner and was wiping the corner of his mouth with his napkin. Oddly enough, that made her want to whimper. He was handsomely dressed, as most nights, the white shirt under the dark jacket contrasting beautifully against his tanned skin. The fairy couldn't help but ponder whether her mother might overlook her age upon beholding what a fine catch he truly was.
Though she directed her gaze back to her unfinished meal, she still felt that funny feeling below her stomach, one she was growing accustomed to. It wasn’t quite the same as the butterflies in her belly, and she wasn’t entirely sure what it meant, but it only happened when Colin was near, so she assumed it ought to signify love.
“Colin, would you show me where I’ll be staying?” She heard Daphne ask.
“Of course,” he said, standing up and offering his sister his arm.
“Oh,” Penelope said, remembering who’s chambers she'd been occupying. “I would not mind taking a guest’s chamber if that’d make you most comfortable, Your Grace,” she offered.
“Oh, no need, I shall be staying just for the night. And either way, they’re my chambers no longer,” she waved her concern with a hand gesture and a warm smile. The Viscountess smiled with melancholy at that. “Besides, I fear the emotions would get to me in this state if I spent the night there.”
“It is a lovely room, I shall leave it just as I found it,” Penelope assured.
“Please, do not trouble yourself, Miss Featherington. I am glad they found a new occupant instead of remaining empty and abandoned. I trust you shall take good care of them for me.” She held Colin’s arm. “Goodnight, I shall anticipate our meeting at the breakfast table on the morrow.”
“I as well, goodnight, Your Grace.”
After bidding her mother goodnight, the duch*ess departed along with her brother, up the stairs to the guest wing.
Eloise was quick to race and claim the seat Daphne left behind, her own plate in hand and a piece of bread secured by her teeth. Despite her mother’s scolding, the brunette proceeded to reclaim the redhead’s attention, resuming their latest discussion about the Dashwood sisters.
“She is quite the delight, is she not?” Daphne asked as they walked arm in arm through the halls.
“Indeed,” Colin agreed, glad once again to be spared from being the one that had to bring Pen up. “What did you think of her?” He inquired, eager to hear the duch*ess opinion on his little lady.
“Utterly charming, if not a little shy. But, if she is able to keep up with Eloise, she must possess quite the wit.”
“Yes, she is remarkably quick-witted. I am certain that once she warms up to you, you shall witness it firsthand.”
“Oh?” Daphne asked, a teasing glint in her eyes. “Has she warmed up to you?”
Colin chuckled softly, his face feeling warmer.
“Slowly but surely, as she had done with most of the family.” He cleared his throat. “Though my knowledge of her sharp wit comes from observing her discussions with our dear sister. They share a fondness for books and do love to discuss them at all times of the day.”
“And are you fond of observing her, brother?” she inquired with a raised eyebrow.
“Excuse me?” He nearly stumbled on his steps. “Not you too, sister. I have enough with Anthony’s accusations.”
“I am not accusing you of anything,” she shrugged. “All I say is, she is eye-catching, there’s nothing wrong with admiring a lady’s beauty–”
“She is indeed quite beautiful.” Breathtakingly beautiful. “I have eyes after all, but I assure you, I have no intentions besides friendliness towards her.”
“Very well, I shall not press the issue further.” They arrived at her door. She turned around before she stepped in. “I do agree with Hy’s early statement.” She said.
“Which one.”
“It would be lovely to have Miss Penelope married into the family.”
