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Chapter Text

"What the bloody hell, Fife?" Colin shouted as he approached Robert outside. It was a hot evening in May, and they were at his brother's ball, or no the ball of his brother and sister-in-law Kate. The annual event was held on Bruton street and was grand in several facets. Only the best appetisers were served, the best orchestra was hired, and the ball had a fitting theme of Spring and all that went with it.

Consequently, the house was lavishly decorated with branches, flowers, plants and had been turned into a small but impressive oasis of nature. It had been a fun evening so far, he had danced with Penelope among others but also with another lady called Melinda, a pretty brunette with twinkling, mischievous eyes who had been keen on him. As far as he knew, she and her family were new in town and had been invited by Kate to welcome them to society, since they had been old acquaintances, well their families had been according to Anthony. Kate did not know  the Carlyle family very well but that had not stopped her from inviting them.

The male guests were taken back by Melinda, who wore a dark blue dress that only accentuated her pale skin, her shapely curves, especially in the upper regions, her blue eyes, and the fact that she was well-mannered, friendly and intelligent. Many a man wanted to dance with her, and all women seemed to be jealous of her, given the avid users of fans and the gossip expressed behind said fans.

Yes, Melinda Carlyle would ruffle some feathers in London, Colin suspected.. Colin was also not untouched by her presence either so and he had danced very pleasantly with her, not noticing here the disappointed eyes of a girl standing in the corner, who was wearing a bright yellow dress, which, while fitting the theme, as she looked like a bee, still somehow stuck out like a sore thumb in comparison to the lush, pastel-like garments of her fellow guests.

After his dance with her, Colin felt a bit thirsty, literally, and figuratively, my God what a woman so he rushed to the table with refreshments. The music started again, another waltz, he heard. He stood with his back to the dance floor and feasted on several snacks before slowly turning around, taking in the dance hall. His eyes unintentionally searched for Penelope, his good friend, he wasn't really sure why either, perhaps because he knew she hated going to these functions but was pressured to go and perhaps by giving a sneaky wink or nod he could convey that it was 'all right' and that the evening was about to end. Colin could not find her at first glance. He supposed she had gone to the ladies' room, which was also possible of course. His eye then fell on Portia Featherington, who seemed to be pleased and was busily discussing with Lady Cowper. They both seemed fixated on the dance floor, apparently something had caught their attention there.

Curious to see what this might be Colin turned to the dancing crowd to look there and....

Penelope... was dancing with Fife and a shock went through him. He had always had a love-hate relationship with Fife if you could put it that way. The man was a scoundrel, a real womaniser and it was rumoured that he had fathered a few non-legitimate children here and there, however, those were rumours. The fact that he was now dancing with Penelope did not at all displease Colin, it brought out something in him that he did not like. He waited patiently until the dance was over and they both bowed politely to each other, Penelope with a somewhat uncertain, "what just happened now?" expression on her face. Fife had a smirk on his and Colin did not like this either.

The crowd dispersed and with it Penelope and the rest of the Featheringtons. Fife walked out, no doubt to light a cigar in the garden, and Colin followed him out.

Fife only heard him approaching at the last moment and thus also turned around rather late. He was a bit suprised by how rude and forward Colin had been , and also slightly irritated but the Bridgertons were an influentual lot, especially the Viscount so in order to keep things civil he pretended he hadn't heard what Colin just had stated.

"Ah Colin! Welcome... Would you like one too?" asked and having said that, he reached for his pocket, but Colin shook no.

"No thank you but I do need to ask you a question Fife,."

"Proceed" said Fife, putting the cigar back in his pocket for a moment.

"What the bloody hell?" cried Colin. Fife looked at him in surprise and tssked afterwards, shaking his head.

"Language, Colin. There are ladies near" he admonished.

"What were you doing with Penelope?" asked Colin accusingly.

"What did I do with Penelope? I was just dancing with her" Fife replied nonchalantly.

"Exactly. You danced with her, but you only do that with ladies you are interested in... and I know you don't have any in Penelope so... stop it yes. She's a sweet girl, not what you're normally accustomed to ".

"That it is quite hurtful Colin. I find that quite insulting to me and the ladies in question I keep in company. I would like, for the sake of our friendship, for you to apologise," Fife stated dryly.

"Fine. I apologise but you know what I mean" added Colin.

Colin frowned for a moment and looked not a little surprised at the young man facing him. Another handsome Bridgerton he thought, why were they all so so goodlooking? It was annoying moreover because they were so popular too and to top that off, they were more wealthy than his family.

Robert didn't really like them, the male offspring at least. The girls were exquisite especially Daphne and Francesca, but Eloise was also okay. However,... there was something about Penelope that intrigued him, she often stood there in the corner and everyone ignored her but she herself.... She seemed to be watching everyone. He had seen her smile briefly several times, he wasn't really sure why, but it seemed like she was taking in information, summarising and archiving it.... for later.

It didn't make sense, but he got that feeling and he couldn't think it away. He found himself getting increasingly involved with Penelope at balls. Robert, as he was called but everyone he called by his surname rather than his first name wanted to know more about her and tonight, to her shock and an even greater surprise of her mother, he had asked her to dance.

Robert had briefly asked her some questions which she had answered politely and before he knew it, the dance was over. It had not been enough. Robert had hoped that dancing with her would cause interest to wane, instead he became even more interested in knowing more about her. He knew after today. He had to have her... placing his hand on her back had sparked something in him he hadn't seen coming.

Robert once again wanted to feel her curves against him, while counting her steps he suspected she had miscalculated causing her to fall full into his arms. With a red head, she had owed herself several times, but Robert hadn't mind at all.

It had been nice having her against him, experiencing her reddish hair that smelled of lilacs, having her shapely breasts pressed against him.

He wanted nothing more than to take her 'innocence' from her and have Penelope in his bed, repeatedly, throwing himself full into her, kissing her breasts, licking and sucking and not to stop thrusting into her until he had had his fill.

Tonight, had been step one of his plan. The next would be visiting the Featheringtons one of these days but there was a roadblock he hadn't counted on in the form of Colin Bridgerton.

"What exactly do you want from me, Colin?" he asked, therefore, irritated.

"That you leave Penelope alone," Colin stated firmly.

"And why should I?" asked Fife with raised eyebrows.

Colin sighed deeply and shook his head.

"You're not really interested in her, Fife. I know it".

"Do you now? "Fife asked in turn.

"How do you know who I'm interested in or not?", he followed up with me.

Colin's mouth fell open in surprise.... He wasn't actually thinking of pursuing Penelope but it most certainly seemed like it.

"So... you are really interested in her?", he asked with suprise in his voice.

"And if so? What is it to you if I am?", Robert said irritated.

"Weren't you the one who said, 'Not in your wildest dreams, Fife'. That you would never court Miss Featherington?"

"Yes... I said that but... I.... meant .. I uhm..-'

"Your words were very clear to everyone standing with you at the time, Colin so I find it strange that you're suddenly getting so involved... And let me make myself clear" Robert said as he took a few steps towards Colin.

"I might pursue Miss Featherington and if I do there is nothing... absolutely nothing you will do or can do about it. Is that clear?", Fife asked sweetly.

Colin wasn't quite sure what to say. This was a surreal situation. Fife? Interested in Penelope. It was strange well that was a mean thought, of course it could happen that a man would show interest in Penelope only he honestly did not expect it. Penelope was not exactly popular, and it had been a while since she had debuted. But then again... she could of course marry whoever she wanted; she obviously had every right to do so but then why did the idea feel so... 'wrong' to him?

Colin, however, knew nothing more to say.

"Well I believe we are done here. If you'll excuse me... I'd like to light my cigar" and with that he walked away, leaving a shocked Colin behind.

Chapter Text

Robert Fife was someone who was used to getting his way Obstacles didn't mean much to him, no these were to be bought away or otherwise eliminated and there was always a way to achieve this .

They were privileges that came with his status as Lord and he made eager use of them. There was not a day that went by when he was not happy with his origins and did not consider himself lucky that the Fife's were rich because imagine being born a poor pauper! He saw the men and he did not envy them, their exhausted long faces due to the long days they worked in his father's textile factory, which he supposedly had to keep an eye on, whether things were working properly there.

His father had entrusted him with that task, though it was more to shift the responsibility onto him upon which Robert shifted the responsibility back onto his manager. He did go by though, once a month or so, to look around briefly, barely 10 minutes before quickly making his way back to the exit, back to his undisturbed life of drinking and setting his sights on a new conquest, read a new lady he could beckon to his bed.

However, he had been feeling uninspired of late. The ladies, married or not, fell too easily into his lap and there was no challenge into getting them in said lap. He hated to admit but he Robert Sinclair Fife was no longer enamoured with the ladies he found himself with in his company, though that was not entirely fair perhaps. He did enjoy seducing them of course but afterwards there was always an emptiness, the search for something, after pleasure had departed his body. Then Robert didn't know how quickly he could get away because as soon as their mouths opened something or other silly or totally inconsequential would come out and he would have to listen to how badly the husbands were treating them or they were talking about Lady Whistledown, or the latest dresses from Paris.

He didn't give a damn about any of it, least of all the infamous writer Lady Whistledown. Everyone was talking about her publication, Robert had not read it once...Yet somewhere he was grateful, somehow he had escaped Lady Whistledown's thorn, until now but he was also discreet and so were the ladies in question.

Besides, he was no Bridgerton and somehow Lady Whistledown often mentioned them in her tabloid, several times so far. Apparently the writer found this family intriguing and Robert was happy about that even if he didn't understand the fascination much.

The female Bridgertons were all lovely and turned heads wherever they went but he did not find the male ones AS captivating. Benedict Bridgerton was a nice fellow he supposed , he had no grievances with them. The contact between them was superficial yet friendly, a brief conversation during yet another ball. Anthony Bridgerton he had always found to be a pompous arse but being married had perhaps removed some of the stick in his arse, he suspected as he seemed to behave a bit more friendly than usual instead of the insufferable man he used to be. And then there was Colin.

He was no friends with Colin but no enemies either well maybe until recently at this brother’s ball

Who did Colin think he was? Robert was five years older than him and did not have to answer to a brat just out of diapers, secondly, Colin had loudly proclaimed that he would never court Penelope

So, what was it? Was it genuine concern for Penelope or was there more behind it? He had to admit that Colin might have had legitimate concerns. His intentions (writers note : hehe semi title check) with Penelope Featherington were not exactly pure, he had to admit. Robert did not want to marry Penelope. No... there were other candidates who were more suitable, who were getting richer and had a better family name, Lord Featherington had died suspiciously a few years back. There were murmurs that Lord Featherington owed money to sinister people, which could have caused his death, but no one had ever been caught for it, nor was there any evidence. Surely he would have to face it in some time, marry, as the sole descendant of the Fife family he was keen to carry on his name and ensure posterity.

Did he want to take away her innocence and have his wicked way with her? Oh, absolutely he didn't deny that. There was something about her though that was not so innocent about her at all, and he couldn't wait to find out what exactly that was.

His plan of action had to be adjusted, after all, there was a block in the road in the form of Colin Bridgerton but it was only a minor setback. After all, if there was one thing Robert was very good at, it was in removing obstacles, no matter what it may cost.

Penelope could not forget about the ball to her chagrin, well she wanted to but Portia wouldn't let her forget....

"And then Mrs. Varley. to everyone's surprise and mine most of all", Penelope rolled her eyes at this part of her mother's sentence, "Lord Fife wanted to dance with Penelope.... Never in a million years", Penelope rolled her eyes again but again pretended to read " did I expect him to want to dance with her".

"It meant nothing, no doubt he just wanted to be nice, mother", Penelope said exasperated because that's what it was. Lord Fife had only wanted to dance with her out of pity she suspected, for she was the only girl who had not yet danced, even Prudence (with that vile Lord Berbrooke) and Philippa (with Mr Finch). Colin, who usually did ask, like the other men seemed to be very intrigued by newcomer Melinda Carlyle.

Great, Penelope thought. as if there weren't already enough other women she stood pale by in comparison and then also one she suspected Colin would want to pursue.

"Hush, you. I know that too" Portia reprimanded with a sharp tone.

"That does not alter the fact that... he could not ask her to dance again.... Anything is possible, however small the chance and who knows. Perhaps he might develop a liking for Penelope in the future ", said Portia to which Phillipa and Prudence had burst into laughter.

"Penelope? With a Lord and then Lord Fife too?" asked Philippa with a mean smile.

"Really mama, what were you thinking?" said Prudence with a shake of her head.

"I have had enough of this" said Penelope to herself mostly at which she stood up and started walking away.

"Where are you going Penelope?" asked Portia sternly.

Penelope turned around with a jerk and looked at her mother sternly.

"Where else, mother? To my room if you don't mind" and even before Portia could answer, she had already fled the room and went straight to hers. Unfortunately, she could not go to Eloise's, she knew she was visiting her sister Daphne so going there was not an option. Besides, she didn't necessarily want to run into Colin right now either. A part of her obviously wanted to, she wanted nothing more than to be near him but in turn it hurt.

"Never in your wildest dreams, Fife" he had said, with so much certainty that her heart shattered on the spot. The words had wreaked havoc and she had tried her best to banish both him and what he said from her mind, but she had failed.

Penelope was a fool. A fool in love with someone who considered her not a woman but a 'friend'. A fool who kept waiting for Colin She had never confronted Colin on what he said because that was too painful, so she pretended like nothing was wrong.

As if the evening wasn't miserable enough already and she was forced to watch Colin dance with Melinda it only got weirder after that. Her mind going a mile a minute and was oblivious to the figure walking in her direction . Well she had seen him walking of course, she was not blind after all but she never expected him to come to a halt in front of her.

"Miss Featherington. I believe you have not yet danced tonight. It would be my honour. Would you do me the honour of a dance?" she had heard him say.

She had been too stunned to respond, all she could do was stare at him with her mouth open, she later heard from Eloise that she was not the only one as Portia and her sisters had had the same expression. Even Cressida Cowper, Eloise had informed her, was too stunned to speak which is no small feat for that wench.

"Ehm. I... I..." she could only stammer until Portia almost fell over in enthusiasm and stated that her "daughter would be delighted".

"That's kind of yours Mrs Featherington but I'd rather hear your daughter's answer" he had stated a little sternly, yet somewhere friendly again.

"Oh.. That.. would.. be... I" she started stammering again until her mother gave a not too friendly shove to make her respond properly.

"Thank you my Lord. I would love to " she had murmured politely, not quite composed yet.

She was not a bad dancer at all, her mother and governesses had prepared her excellently, she had to admit, from quadrille to waltz, it had been taught to her. However, she suddenly felt so nervous that she swore all her training had flown right out the window and suddenly couldn't remember anything.

Penelope had to make do though, the next dance was about to start so she had to think of something very quickly. The orchestra tuned the instruments briefly, an indication that they would start playing so she moved with difficulty towards the dance floor where he met her halfway.

"Miss Featherington..." he greeted politely and bowed briefly to her.

"Lord Fife" she had said and performed the same gesture. To her it was a manoeuvre that didn't feel entirely natural and had undoubtedly looked a bit wooden. Then she had waited for him to make the first move and he did. He carefully, very cautiously placed a hand on her upper back, the gesture had made her shiver for a moment, even if it was contrary to his gentleness. It just felt so strange, the only man she had danced with was Colin and this was... not Colin.

She on her end hesitantly put her hand on his shoulder, it was more his upper arm, since he was considerably that taller than her, she quickly gathered.

And then... music and the start of one of Penelope's most awkward moments in her life. The first steps still went but she didn't know where to look, at least not at him, though she had wanted to it was again not entirely easy due to a considerable height difference, it was fortunate that he towered over her.

"Are you enjoying yourself tonight Miss Featherington?" he had asked her suddenly and she had looked up where her blue eyes met another set of blue eyes. It had caught her off guard for a moment and she was momentarily lost in his gaze and had held it a little too long. She finally looked away embarrassed and nodded as an initial response before saying very softly "Yes my Lord".

"That's good" he said kindly and to Penelope's relief no other sentence or question came out of his mouth or so she thought.

"Aren't you going to ask me if I am having a nice time as well?", he stated with a curious intonation, confusing Penelope at first but then she realised that it might have been inconsiderate not to ask him the same question.

"My apologies. Are you having a pleasant time, my Lord?" she asked while profusely blinking with her eyes in an unconscious attempt to calm her nerves perhaps. The next thing she had never thought to hear, not in a million years but... he had uttered it. Robert had leaned towards her for a moment and whispered the following.

"I am now..."

It had upset her to such an extent that she had suddenly forgotten to count the steps, which is what she was doing so far, and she had miscalculated, resulting in her colliding fully with him. He had in an instant gone a second arm around her to bring her to a halt, she suspected but nonetheless she was now in the arms of Lord Fife... effectively speaking.

She pulled herself up with a jolt and started to profusely say sorry, but he had to chuckle a little, much to her annoyance, and said she didn't need to apologise

How she got through the next few minutes she didn't exactly know either but eventually her ordeal was over.

"Thank you miss Featherington. I enjoyed dancing with you" he had stated with a smile She had only nodded briefly and politely before going back to her mother and sisters, who still seemed as surprised as before and she couldn't blame them.

The next day her mother wouldn't shut up about it and she had as little reprieve as before. She was in her room now trying to organise her thoughts, but it didn't help. What did he mean by "I am now?". It was not an appropriate comment and it felt like he was just messing with her head. On the other hand, he had not seemed insincere when he said it and it made her confused.

Especially since Lord Fife did not have a reputation for being sincere. She had, at a Hawkins' ball, heard someone say that he, in lieu of managing his father factory spent his days in bed, making no distinction between married or unmarried ladies. Penelope had heard this as she stood in the corner and pretended she was watching the arriving guests with fascination; this was also somewhere her intention as her eyes had wanted to see Colin's arrival and Eloise's.

He was acting however discreetly she suspected because no one ever openly accused him of anything. She could appreciate this about him, she herself knew what it was like to walk around with secrets and how best to guard them.

A rough knock on her door and its opening brought her back to earth.

"Penelope. Get dressed”, Portia ordered.

“Whatever for, mama? Can’t we have one evening to ourselves? Can’t I stay home please? I don’t want to go.” Penelope complained.

“Nonsense, we have been invited to Clara Hennessy’s soirée and we are going… So get up and get dressed. NOW”, Portia ordered.

In addition to her family Mr. Finch was an invitee whom Penelope liked but totally clueless, the Cowper’s, whom Penelope did not like at all and she had already had three snide remarks from Cressida about her dress. To be fair she could not blame Cressida, the garment had the most hideous shade of yellow and did not look like her at all, and Mr. Nigel Berbrooke, or in other words the most boring person on earth.

"Hennessy... Would you mind passing me the sauce please... this lamb needs a dash more".

"Of course," Paul had said before turning his full attention back to his wife.

The door swung open and everyone expected it to be one of the servants but it was none other than....

"My apologies" said Robert "I was held up in a… meeting" and then walked over to the hosts who had stood up and greeted them.

"Congratulations, you two" he said in a friendly tone.

"Thank you Robert. Good of you to come, please ... take a seat" and the petite blonde Claudia pointed to the seat that was free next to Mr Berbrooke.

"Good evening all" Robert said before taking a seat, his eyes wandering around the room.

"Mrs Featherington, Miss Philippa, Miss Prudence. Miss Penelope, Lady Cowper and Miss Cowper, Mr Finch, and Mr Berbrooke, I hope you are well".

"Thank you Lord Fife. And how are you?", Portia asked.

"Splendid" he grinned, "it is good to be . among friends. Speaking of friends... " he said as he raised his glass.

"To the newlyweds, may you forever be happy together", he wished wholeheartedly, and the rest of the guests followed suit.

The evening got a lot better after Robert's his arrival as he quickly became the light of the party. He had a dry sense of humour and managed to tell one funny anecdote after another with no trouble at all.

It was apparently so amusing that her mother just wouldn't leave, even when the Cowper’s and Mr Finch had left. Mr Berbrooke was talking to Paul and her mother was talking to Claudia Hennessy about her wedding dress and its cost. Lord Fife had briefly excused himself a while back.

God... It was so hot, and mama had insisted on making her wear a dress with a dense fabric in the sweltering heat. She felt stuffy and asked if she could go to the garden for a moment to get a breath of fresh air, Portia for some reason was so interested in what Claudia was saying, she absentmindedly agreed. Philippa and Prudence were both nearly sleeping in their seats.

With relief, Penelope got up and walked quickly downstairs to the back garden of the small yet impressive estate. There she took a few deep breaths, stretched her neck and moved her head from side to side, before turning to the sky, where she saw some stars and a bright moon.

"Beautiful evening isn't it?" she heard suddenly, and it made her pivot back. There was Robert with his hands folded behind him staring at her. When Penelope said nothing he took a few steps towards her and all she could do was gaze at him.

"I didn't know you were invited" he said "but it was a pleasant surprise. Where do you know the Hennessy's from?" he wanted to know.

Penelope summoned herself to talk instead of gawking at him.

"Paul's mother was an old friend of my mother's" she stated, thinking afterwards about how stupid the sentence sounded.

"Ah. That explains it.... Claudia is my old neighbour girl, we often used to play together and were very close, she's like a sister to me. The day of their wedding I had a horrible cold and unfortunately couldn't attend".

"I'm sorry," Penelope also said not really knowing why she said that at all.

"I survived as you can see," she said. However, I don't know if I can survive Mr Berbrooke's company for long. I think Nigel is a nice man but my God, how boring he is. I couldn't leave fast enough"

Penelope couldn't help but laugh, it was not very lady like no doubt but it happened before she knew what she was doing.

"I see I'm not the only one thinking the same thing" he grinned.

Penelope shook her head, with a twinge of regret.

"Mr Berbrooke is kind. It was wrong of me to laugh at him" and she genuinely did feel a touch bad if she was honest.

"Why? It was the truth wasn't it? Don't back down now or I will feel guilty for making you laugh!", Robert replied with that same mischievous expression.

The two locked eyes for a moment afterwards and both could not look away, it was like at the ball, they were lost for a moment.

"I have to go back".

"Fine, I'll walk back with you" Robert suggested.

"No!" had Penelope said startled.

"My apologies don't take it the wrong way please but we can be seen".

"I hardly think an innocent stroll back to the house together will cause a scandal", he stated matter-of-factly.

"No but people can draw the wrong conclusions... no matter how unrealistic they may be". Penelope had witnessed first-hand what a clandestine meeting in the garden could have led to, the Viscount Bridgerton and his now wife had been caught and forced into marriage by none other than her own mother.

He took a step forward and now dropped his arms beside him, his demeanour loosening a lot but at the same time looking at her inquisitively.

"I suspect you are talking about people would suspect we have something together.... I understand your concerns but my question is then... is that line of reasoning, that thought so... unbelievable then? So unattainable?" he asked, and Penelope's heart just started beating harder. She had to swallow a few times and willed herself to compose.

"I really have to go now" she stated; not answering his question

"Of course. Don't let me keep you" he replied evenly, happily ignoring the fact that she had thus not answered his question.

Penelope nodded in farewell and then walked past him.

"Goodnight Miss Featherington" he called after her and then something that almost brought Penelope to a halt.

"Till we meet again".

When she was back, Portia finally had the wise idea to go to her house. She thankfully did not see him back in the dining room and suspected he was still in the garden.

Once she got home, she quickly walked towards her safe haven, her room, undressed and changed and got into bed. It took many hours before she finally fell asleep.

It was not the same for Robert, who slept pretty soon after resting his head on the pillow. His last thought for that night was the memory of his encounter with Penelope in the garden, and without realising it, he had unconsciously gotten a big smile on his face.

Chapter Text

He didn't know why he was going to the ball as he could spend his time better than at yet another boring ball but Lord Cavendish, a friend of his father had personally invited him, and it would be rude not to go and he had to, since his father Reginald was in Scotland.

His father himself was not present and opted to spend his summers there, as he did every year, but Robert didn't mind at all. It saved him a sermon on how surely he really needed to get married and how Robert needed to ensure offspring so that the family name would live on which was ironic and quite hypocritical, coming from his father.

Robert knew there were already plenty of offspring running around, but they just weren't legitimate children. In the middle of winter last year, Robert discovered his father's dirty secret. Robert did not know how they had found out the address, but one day she was at his front door. Or, better said, she was already in his house. Mr. Chambers, the butler, was just escorting her out again when Robert ran down the stairs, alarmed by the ruckus he had heard.

There was a woman in the corridor currently screaming her lungs out, and Robert had to do something, though the motive behind it was not so noble; it was more about protecting his ears from the noise.

"Chambers, what is the meaning of this?" he had asked sternly. The butler's face turned pale before turning red.

"Nothing, my Lord... This lady has lost her way. I will deal with her shortly" Chambers mumbled. Robert looked at the woman; she was of small stature, her clothes were frayed, her hair was greasy, and she did not look too clean herself.

"That is not true! Please sir. Please hear me out! I have no money. My child and I are hungry. "Please," the woman exclaimed with tears permeating her voice.

Robert raised his eyebrows in annoyance. a beggar woman. He would have none of her audacity in allowing herself access to his home.

"You can turn to the poorhouses of London, ma'am, if you are hungry. I'm not sure what possessed you to come here, but we don't run a charity here. Will you escort her out, Chambers?" Fife asked.

Chambers, still feeling ashamed for his failure to respond adequately, resolutely grabbed the young woman's arm and pulled her along with him and Fife, not particularly wanting to see that the rest had already turned around again.

"Wait. Please listen. Your father! My son is his!" she had exclaimed, and this had caused Robert to turn around too abruptly.

A few minutes later, the woman was sitting in his study, hands clasped together in her lap, staring at the floor. Chambers came in, and Robert could see her carrying a tray with tea and scones. He served Robert first before reluctantly pouring the woman her tea and a scone.

The woman consumed the scone rather quickly, so she did not lie about being hungry before accepting with trembling hands.

"Thank you," she said in a murky voice, looking briefly at Robert. Robert nodded at her and then took her in attentively. This woman looked familiar to him, but she didn't know from where until the penny dropped, and he remembered very well where he remembered her from." Apparently he was more perceptive than he gave himself credit for.

"You worked in our factory, didn't you?", he concluded.

She looked up at him for a moment, startled, before returning to her eyes.

"What's your name?" He wanted to know.

"Eliza Brooks, sir," she replied, her voice trembling.

Robert sighed. Up close, she looked more like a girl than a woman; she looked young. young and frightened.

"How did you find out where I lived?" was his second question.

"I followed you once. I had to. Your father bars me from the factory when he is there which is almost never nowadays. I am sorry for going about things this way, but I needed to speak to you".

"Yes, you mentioned something earlier about your son and.. that he is my father's."

She swallowed a few times to hold back her tears. Something inside him said she was telling the truth, and he believed her, but he was deeply disappointed in his father. He was a scoundrel, especially when it came to women, but did he behave in this manner towards his staff too? Reginald Fife should have known better; this was a case of abuse of power and pure opportunism. It made his blood boil.

"I'm going to ask you a. question that may not be very appropriate, but I'd like to ask it anyway if you don't mind", Robert paused for a moment before continuing "but did he force you?".

Eliza shook her head, indicating that he did not, and a sense of relief swept over Robert.

"Tell me everything" Robert requested.

Reginald Fife had made sweet promises to entrap his young, naive employee and lured her into bed under the guise of their promise of marriage, which she had first grudged because of the age difference, and a promise that he was 'going to take care of her and her family'. 'We are getting married anyway' he had told her. The very next day Eliza was summoned to the office, where she met not Reginald Fife, but Mr Branbury, who gave her an envelope containing quite a bit of money, hush money she later realised, and further stated that she had been fired. When she asked about the reason, he indicated that she had been late several times which was a gross lie. What followed were months of misery, which first started with a realisation that she was pregnant, when she heavily vomited one day and remembered that her mother had done the same when she was pregnant with her little brother.

She had no option but to come clean with her parents, who were shocked but once then formulated the plan to pretend the baby was theirs. It was horrible, Eliza had to hide her pregnancy and her mother had to pretend she was pregnant, which was not easy for either woman. Eliza had tried a few more times to go back to the factory but she was always, harshly refused, until at one point she just gave up. The little boy was now 1 year old and was looked after by Maria Brooks, who had to stop working, which was not convenient because William Brooks, Eliza's father, could not earn an income as he had become disabled after an accident in construction. Eliza now worked as a kitchen maid in one of the elite houses, but it was not enough. Reginald's money had long since run out and the family was forced to borrow from loan sharks.

Robert was silent for a long time after hearing Eliza's story; her words had made a big impression on him. He had to do the right thing he realised, do what his father had failed to do, so he stood up, walked to the downstairs desk, took out a paper and a fountain pen and handed them to her.

"I want you to write down your address - including that of the company you are borrowing from now. I will pay off your loan and I will make sure you get a monthly allowance that will be sufficient but I need to make some arrangements first."

Eliza looked at him in disbelief and at the same time somewhat sceptical.

"I am a man of my word but should I fail to honour this one... you know where I live now..." he stated pragmatically.

"I really have to go now but I will instruct Chambers to take you home".

Eliza still said nothing but nodded meekly.

" You did right by coming here... I will do my best to help you. I will be in touch for now, goodbye" he stated. Then he turned and walked away but there was one question that stopped Robert from finally walking out of the room.

"What is his name? Your little son, what's his name?" he wanted to know.

"Christopher" replied Eliza. She watched him stand still for another moment, taking this answer in before leaving permanently.

Robert had his coachman to drive as quickly as possible to Surrey, where the textile mill was located. Arriving there, he walked in with a firm step and barged into Mr Branbury's office without budging, startling him from inspecting a statement of expenses more closely. Branbury then immediately stood up, adjusted his suit, put his glasses back and, probably out of nervousness, went through his already immaculate-looking hair to rearrange it.

"Your Grace. I wasn't expecting you until Thursday. What a pleasant surprise," Branbury mumbled quickly.

"Sorry to drop in so unexpectedly and without notice. I should know better; the same thing happened to me today," Robert sternly stated.

"Oh, well that's unfortunate I suppose but I don't really understand what you are trying to say, Your Grace.".

"Eliza. Eliza Brooks. You know her I believe". On hearing this statement, Branbury's eyes grew Large, and he became flustered instantly.

"Yes, I do I know her... she used to work here but I-".

"How many more?" Robert interrupted, doing so for the second time.

"How many what?" Branbury asked but he barely faced Robert while speaking, clearly wishing to avoid the issue.

"How many more former employees did my father lie to, deceive and got pregnant? I advise you, Mr. Branbury not to pretend to be unaware, because I know that you are aware".

Branbury let out an anxious breath and tried to calm himself down, somewhere Robert did feel sorry for him, he had only been carrying out orders, but they had been disgusting orders.

"You are placing me in an incredibly difficult position," Branbury began.

"I don't want to lose my job... my wife is expecting our second child... so please, don't force me to-".

"You are going to lose your job completely if you don't tell the truth now. I asked you something. How. Many. More?", Robert demanded to know.

"T.. There was a lady called Anna a few months back."

"That's it? Only one? Why don't I believe you? "asked Robert to which Branbury started shaking his head.

"I am telling the truth. Eliza and Anna, those are the employees of whom I am aware. What happened before I took over as manager here I couldn't possibly know about".

Branbury pointed out something he would rather not think about that his father had been playing this dirty game for much longer than he had expected and suddenly he was overwhelmed by the idea that there could a string of illegitimate children running around London.

"And how many children has Anna?", Robert inquired.

"I believe Anna has a daughter."

"I need you to listen carefully. You are going to find Theresa; you have her records somewhere anyway. I want you to give her an allowance a month from the company's profits, you will hear the final amount from me. Your boss, my father is not going to inform you about this, if there is anything you report to me and me alone. Is that clear"?

"Yes Sir."

"Perfect... Then I'll see you next week to discuss the rest of the details" and before Branbury knew it, Robert had walked out of the office.

He supposed, as he was on his way to go to the Cavendish's ball a year later after he had found out of his father's wrongdoings, that he was no better than Reginald. Had he not had fantasies of ruining Penelope Featherington? To get her into his bed? It was a thought that made him ashamed for a moment because he was equally hypocritical, equally calculating.

Robert stepped and walked towards the ballroom where he was greeted by the only Bridgerton he liked.

"Robert, fashionably late as always. Good to see you," this Bridgerton said extending him a hand.

"Likewise, Benedict", Robert said as he shook Benedict's hand, they exchanged some 'how do you do?' before continuing speaking to each other.

"Another evening.. another ball," Benedict expressed with a slight sense of fatigue in his voice.

"I know, luckily the season is coming to an end." Robert mused.

"Thank God, maybe now my mother will stop pestering me to marry."

"'Oh, so you feel the pressure so to speak?", Robert asked to which Benedict sighed.

"Ever since Anthony got married and in particular seems to be happily bereaved she will not get give me any rest", Benedict complained.

Ah, Robert thought. You don't know how fortunate you are. He would spend a small fortune to hear his mother's whining, yet again since he had lost her at an early age, when he was sixteen.

"I have no doubt she means well," Robert mused.

"I know she does, I do but.. I doubt her trying to push me in the direction of the umpteenth girl she deems fit for me will be efficient. I am looking for someone special and I don't know if I can't find her.. here.. around the ton. Does that make sense, or do I come across as an arrogant prick now?", Benedict wanted to know.

"No, Benedict, I get what you are saying, the part about looking for someone special, that is".

At that very moment, when he had barely finished the sentence, his eye fell on Penelope Featherington.

**********

It was shaping up to be another lousy evening. Her mother had put her in godawful dress again, which was the colour of sunflowers to be understood, which clashed with her skin tone, and she looked like she was barely fifteen. No matter how many times she protested and wished to be dressed in a different colour, her mother wouldn't hear of it. Only to complain, after the umpteenth failure of a ball where her daughters could not secure a match, that they would all become old spinsters.

She had already heard Cressida chuckling as she entered and she was sure, that wrench would no doubt serve her two more thinly veiled insults tonight, under the guise of a compliment like "Penelope. Nice dress, your red hair is less noticeable now". or something along those lines.

Saving graces of the evening were the presence of the Bridgerton's, and Colin in particular. He had asked her to dance, much to her delight, and the following moments, dancing with him were the best of the evening and at the same time the most awful.

"Not in your wildest dreams, Fife" he had said, so casually, as if she were nobody. Before that, he had said she was "not a woman but his friend", another remark that had struck at the very core of her. However, her pride was a hindrance in confronting him, so she pretended like nothing was wrong.

"Penelope... what is going on? Why are you acting so aloof?" he had just asked her and for a moment her mask of friendly nonchalance fell off.

"What do you mean?" and she regretted it immediately after uttering the sentence because the last thing she wanted to do was go into this conversation.

"You've been acting cooly towards me lately; I couldn't help but take note.... Did I maybe do something that caused you any grievance?", he asked concerned.

"Of course not. It's just that.. I am getting a bit weary of going to these balls every week. That's all".

Colin raised his eyebrows in disbelief and she could tell he didn't believe her, to be fair the excuse was rather insufficient but it was all she could come up with.

"Are you certain?," Colin pressed on.

"Yes."

"You would tell me if something was the matter, wouldn't you?", he followed up with.

"Naturally. We're friends after all aren't we?".

A few seconds before, the music had stopped which left them with no need to still stand together on the floor. They bowed politely to each other after which Penelope walked back to her family, at least that was the intention because she was accosted by a second Bridgerton, who pulled her hand towards her and whispered in her ears.

"Pen, I need your help! Mother wants to force me to dance because I have already refused two requests so far. Hide me please. I spotted a greenhouse, not far from here when we entered. Meet me there in five minutes. Mother is in conversation to Lady Danbury but she's been watching me all evening so we can't leave together. You go first but walk away casually please," Eloise Bridgerton said hurriedly.

Penelope looked around. She saw that Portia was busy talking to Lady Cowper, joined by Phillipa and her sister Prudence seemed to be staring cluelessly ahead, at something in the room. She could use a break herself, after that conversation with Colin and nodded affirmatively. She walked carefully away, past the people and then merged into the crowd and hit the exit of the hall. With a firm stride, she walked out and saw the green house, which was not far, as Eloise had said. She opened the door, stepped inside and just waited Eloise did not come. Penelope began to worry them a little. She was not sure what to do, she had promised to wait for her friend but she herself could not stay away forever she knew. She decided to wait just a few more minutes, inspecting some plants but when those minutes were up Penelope had her back turned to the door when she finally heard it open.

"Eloise, where have you been? I've been waiting for ages " but the one in front of her was not Eloise.

"Lord Fife".

"If you are referring to Eloise Bridgerton, she has left. There was a bit of a scene just now where she reprimanded her dance partner, apparently he said something she didn't quite like," Robert said evenly.

"Oh... Oh" she could only state, so that was why Eloise hadn't showed up.

"I could not trace you inside and suspected you were here. Well, it was a lucky guess rather, but I was proven to be right" he stated in a now more friendly tone.

"Miss Featherington, are you hearing what I am saying?" he asked after she still hadn't said anything

"Yes.. yes. Thank you for notifying me Lord Fife."

"It was my pleasure," he said while he was taken her in. Her dress was ugly yet on the other hand, the cut this one seemed to accentuate her curves a bit more and he couldn't help but notice that.

"I should return before they come searching for me" Penelope reasoned.

"Yes, you probably should because what if they find us, here, together" he replied with something of a smarmy expression on his face, referring to the other time they had met in the garden.

"I don't need to remind you of the possible ramifications, as I presented them to you last time".

"You did but just like last time I want to question these ramifications of yours", Robert argued.

"I am not certain what your reasons are for wanting to do so "she asked genuinely intrigued even though ever part of her questioned why she was still there and hadn't left yet.

"There are several reasons but the main one is that I've always found it more interesting to debate with someone than to agree with them but maybe that is a bad habit though. What do you think?."

"I think my opinion is irrelevant in this matter", Penelope countered.

"I disagree. See, I can't help myself", he smiled, and the smile was endearing but somewhere inside Penelope alarm bells went off, he couldn't possibly be sincere?

Not he who, if he only had to snap his fingers, had opinion woman at his feet, at least so she had heard, engaging in this kind of... behaviour with her. Something was not right and she suddenly felt herself getting angry, as if she was being played for a fool and she decided to confront him, whether it was rude or not.

"May I ask you a question, Lord Fife?" she began sternly, as she was the one stepping closer to him now, to his surprise.

"Certainly", Robert replied, slightly hesitant as he was unsure and yet curious at the same time.

"Why do you seek me out?", she asked.

"I don't", he lied.

"You do and I don't understand why," she exclaimed while facing him directly.

He could read uncertainty in her eyes, openness, timidity and vulnerability and he could not look away, no did not want to look away. There they stood, looking at each other, gazes locked in several moments until she looked away, realised how close she was to him and retreated quickly.

"Never mind", he heard her say, "never mind" she repeated, walking away, at least until he called after her, the words making her turn back.

"Miss Featherington.. I believe your card is not full yet, is it?" he had asked in an innocent manner.

"That.. is correct."

"Splendid, then I'll see you shortly," he said with determination.

"Who is to say that I will dance with you?,"

He grinned widely and when she saw his entire face lit up like that she felt a jolt of something she couldn't quite suppress go through her, unnerving her to her core, as she sensed herself getting warm all the sudden

Robert shook his head before replying with a slight smile, "Oh you will".

He turned out to be correct. Portia had practically pushed her into his arms when he asked and so she had little to take.

And so, a few minutes later, Lord Fife and Penelope were waltzing.

Murmurs could be heard from the people standing around them and he sensed it unnerved her, as she took deep breaths a few times.

"Don't mind them. Just, follow my lead." he suggested and as he said that he gripped her a bit firmer.

This was interesting, thought Portia. Quite interesting. Lord Fife wanted to dance with Penelope twice now. She supposed that it had an innocent reason, that he felt sorry for her... however, when she saw him watching her walk with a certain look as he sipped his whiskey, she resolutely did away with this idea.

Portia Featherington had the misfortune of growing up in a man's world and being of the 'wrong' sex. She was smarter than many a man, certainly smarter than her husband but had to spend years watching him squander the family fortune and make one stupid decision after another. When her husband died it was obviously sad for everyone involved, but it finally gave her the chance to lead her family the way she wanted. It was certainly difficult, on her own but she wasn't one to be underestimated as she could read people's intentions well.

And so she knew... that the look Lord Fife had just given her daughter had nothing to do with pity but with something entirely different.

Chapter Text

One week later

He felt restless, which was not something new to him nevertheless, at the most unexpected moments, he was beset by a slumbering sense of discontent. A feeling of emptiness, or gloominess that took hold of his mind and emotions. He tried to find correlations, to look for something that could explain the feeling, but he couldn't find anything.

And it drove him mad because on the face of it he had everything his heart could want. He didn't have to worry about money if he already had a comfortable sized inheritance waiting for him, sure he had wished to be richer, who wouldn't but it was still better than many a poor sod he met at balls, desperate to marry rich, in search of a nice dowry.

So, what was it that bothered him so much? If Robert had to think about it, it was a feeling of emptiness, something was missing but he wasn't quite sure what.... He just got up because his plan to fall asleep again had failed miserably. What day was it again, ah yes.... Saturday.

He had to go to a garden party he remembered with displeasure. As if the numerous balls were not already up his nose, a new "trend" of garden parties had emerged, which basically amounted to the same thing however the guests stayed the night instead of going her house.

To be honest he was again surprised to be invited, he really didn't get along well with Anthony Bridgerton, but he suspected the invitation was based more on the fact that it was an 'obligation' than that his presence was really appreciated. And perhaps it was a sign of rubbing it in that the Viscount could afford to hold no less than two major events this summer.

He summoned his butler and ordered a bath to be prepared and his clothes laid out. After this he indulged in a short but hearty breakfast before boarding the carriage ... to Hertfordshire aka Aubrey Hall.

When he arrived in Hertfordshire an hour and a half later, his mood was already not in the best shape, and he cursed himself for not indicating he would not attend. Robert hated long carriage rides, even if they did not even last two hours because they reminded him of the long, awkward carriage rides he had taken with his father.... Long hours in which he was expected to tolerate Reginald Fife's underhanded sneers, to tolerate the comparisons with his classmates, how they outperformed him academically.

The coachman turned the corner and there he could see Aubrey Hall in the distance.... Robert was already actually impressed by how impressive it was, with its stately columns and timeless design, the building seemed to feel at once classical yet contemporary. He felt a stab of jealousy go through him, whatever the Fife's owned in real estate, this in no way compared to it, they did not have such a building of grandeur.

Once he finally arrived he was given a slightly distant and yet friendly welcome by the Viscount and Viscountess. Well, she was friendly, and Anthony was distant, though he seemed to hide that with his fake smile.

"Welcome Robert," Anthony said as he extended a hand to him.

"Hello, Anthony.. It is good to see you. Thank you for the invitation." said Robert before bowing his head briefly to Kate.

"Thank you for coming" said Kate Bridgerton kindly and at that moment he couldn't help but think that she had an aura of regality about her a degree of confidence in herself that fascinated him immediately. In addition, he could not help but notice that she was rather beautiful. Her glowing skin accommodated her turquoise dress well, her black hair was up but locks framed her delicate face. Her expressive eyes were most alluring, he realized, and Robert wondered what he had been doing last season not to notice her.

Oh yes, spending his time with married women and drinking a stupor, he remembered now.

"It's my pleasure. It is quite nice to be here, I have heard stories of Aubrey Hall and I must admit that there is truth to the rumours.”

Robert looked around, taking the estate in from beginning till end.

“I must say that is a magnificent structure" Robert said sincerely.

"I am not sure if it qualifies as magnificent however, I must say I do agree to a large extent. Yet that is not why I enjoy it here so much. We used to spend our summers here growing up and that is why Aubrey Hall is very dear and to my family" Anthony said as he put his arm around his wife with a smile.

"Well, you must be weary after your trip. The butler will take your bags and escort you to your room where you can get some rest, I will also ask him to serve you lunch in the room. The garden party will begin in a few hours..."

Robert nodded politely in thanks and bid him both goodbye as one of the servants was already walking toward him. Robert followed him through Aubrey Hall and took a good look around. The interior was lavish yet tastefully decorated, it wasn't gaudy and flaunting ones wealth, but he knew there must be a fortune in paintings and other valuables in Aubrey Hall, that was obvious.

Robert was assigned a midsized room, also called the blue room, the name deriving from the blue wallpaper and pastel blue interior. The room was not the largest, but it was comfortable and overlooked the yard and the driveway. He realized he could see everyone coming ... and a second later he wondered if she was in attendance. She had surprised him he had to say. Robert had not expected her to ask him a question so openly and directly, but it pleased him on the other hand.

Apparently she felt so comfortable with him those conventions and decorum had receded into the background, at least until now and that pleased him. HE didn't know why but it did.

Anyway, still tired from the journey he wished to have a whiskey and preferably a cigar too, and even more preferably while reading the paper so he inquired with the butler where the study was and headed towards it.

*******

Penelope had been glad to see Aubrey Hall for several reasons. First, she would be relieved of sitting in the carriage, which really had been too small for the journey anyway. She sat knee to knee with Prudence and had had to enduring all the way through the journey the bony limbs of her sister who were in turn pressing themselves into her limbs. Second, she was going to see Eloise again, her best friend and that was a fine prospect...and last, and not third.... Colin.

Secretly, she knew she was most looking forward to seeing him. Her stupid heart didn't want to forget him, even after hearing his hurtful words.... Is this what people meant by being a "fool in love"? Because she was one; who could possibly love someone who indicated they would never court her? Her pride laughed at her and shook its head, but her heart indicated it still loved him, that no matter how much she wanted to, she could not simply turn off nor erase her feelings.

She had reacted coolly to him though, distant and it had confused him, but Penelope would not let anything show now, not inform him of that she knew what he had said, in opposition to so many others. Someday she might dare confront him but not now, the wound lay open, and the time had not yet come.

"At long last..” Prudence sighed upon seeing Aubrey Hall in the distance.

"I can't wait until I get out of here. It is a severe discomfort to be in a carriage with Penelope, since she is larger than all of us," sneered Prudence.

"I'd rather be larger set than have nothing or substance in my head," and she beckoned to Prudence's forehead.

Prudence's face soured and she was just about to make a caustic remark until Portia intervened.

"Now girls ... I'm telling you now, for the first and last time .... Behave yourselves or else" Portia warned Featherington.

"I don't want any bickering between you...not now that half of London is present here. You will behave like excellently mannered ladies, is that understood? You too Philippa..."

"What have I done?" asked the other Featherington indignantly.

"Nothing, my dear but it applies to all three of you" concluded Portia before sighing.

"It has been another unsuccessful season so far and this is our last opportunity to make an impression.. I for one hope Mr. Finch will be present..." said Portia as she gazed at her eldest daughter.

Philippa giggled shyly upon hearing this name to which Portia rolled her eyes.

“I swear to God.. If that boy waits any longer with courting you then you really should set your sights on someone else" said Portia matter-of-factly.

"But mother, I don't want anyone else!" was her daughters reply to which Portia sighed again and

"Fine ... then I hope that he takes something along the lines of an action toward you after our stay here", Portia concluded.

They were finally here. Aubrey Hall.

A nervous knot suddenly formed in Penelope's stomach though she had been glad to finally arrive. It was usually at events she knew Colin would also attend...a feeling came over her then, a mixture of hope and anticipation but at the end of the evening disappointment and jealousy took its place. Oh, he kept dancing solemnly with her and it was always a moment when her heart leapt when he came to ask her, the minutes that followed were also heavenly until the moment when he politely withdrew and then she had to watch him dance with Melinda Carlyle, twice now she had noticed.

Oh no ... now she was thinking about him again when she had resolved not to. To take her mind off it, she began to wonder who the other guests would be, she suspected she would see some familiar faces, though Eloise had assured her it would be in a more intimate atmosphere setting.

She wondered if Lord Fife would also be in attendance, as he was normally a welcome guest at these sorts of parties, but she suspected that Lord Fife and the Bridgerton’s didn't get along too well, well apart from Benedict perhaps.

Lord Fife himself was something of an enigma to her. He had deliberately sought her out and several times over and she didn't really understand why. She had wanted answers in a moment of stupidity and lack of decorum, in retrospect she was very ashamed of that, but she had gotten none. Worst of all, they both just stood there at one point, just looking at each other.

It seemed as if neither dared to glance away until Penelope came to her senses, that is.

Should she see him today and be able to speak to him alone for a moment she would apologize for her behaviour, it had been rude. Yes his behaviour on the other hand was also not according to protocol but she had practically ambushed him....

The Featherington’s were greeted warmly by Anthony and Kate. Eloise and her mother and the rest of the numerous Bridgerton’s would follow later, she had been told.

Philippa and Prudence did not want to rest and stay in their room and left, heading out presumably but Penelope chose to stay alone for a while, to gather her thoughts, as she sometimes felt the need to. That was why writing was so dear to her, it was the only time when she didn't have to think about others and could do her thing undisturbed.

Unfortunately, she didn't get the chance to spend some time in solitude because right after her intention, her mother breezed in. Penelope looked up and then lowered herself with a sigh.

Her mother walked over to her sofa, on which she was currently reclining, and she had a semi-serious look on her face. Penelope sat up straight and looked at Portia in anticipation, but she said nothing, not is what was normal for Portia, and it was a little strange".

"Yes mama?" asked Penelope.

Portia cleared her throat and took a breath before she spoke.

"I understand Lord Fide is also present" she began. Penelope blinked, not understanding however, hearing the name had a jolt of something she couldn't describe, or would admit, either of them.

"Oh... that is nice," she said.

"Indeed," stated Portia.

"I understand there will be something of a mini ball in the evening...after dinner that is.... There's a chance he might ask you to dance again".

"Perhaps. I doubt it but perhaps.”

"Why?"

"Why what, mama?" asked Penelope frowning.

"Why do you doubt he'll ask you?", Portia pressed on.

"Maybe he wouldn't want to waltz with me this time, since I am so bad at it I wouldn't blame him."

Portia frowned upon hearing this sentence and looked at Penelope intently and she did not quite gather why, nor where this conversation disguised as interrogation was going.

"If why did he ask you to do it last time?".

"How should I know?.. I don’t understand, mama as to what are you getting at? I-..."

"He might be interested in you," Portia interrupted to which Penelope's mouth fell open.

"Please forgive me for what I am going to say but are you feeling quite well, mother?".

"I am perfectly fine, I assure you and watch the sarcasm, young lady. Listen... no one was more perplexed than me when he sought you out", oh that is lovely mother, lovely to hear, Penelope thought.

"I gathered he might feel pity for you", she stated, and Penelope rolled her eyes at that notion, even though she too had suspected there might be some truth to that "but he has danced with you twice now".

"So? He has done the same with most of the female population attending these balls. It doesn't mean anything ... just like when Colin dances with me ... it is just ... out of friendship".

"Colin doesn't count," Portia said.

"He does to me!" stated Penelope and the words had come out a bit more angrily and determined than she had hoped and for a second Penelope feared that her mother would mother something. However, Portia stared at her daughter for a long time but refrained from commenting.

"In any case. Lord Fife is a fine match..." Portia saw that Penelope wanted to say something but was ahead of her.

"Do not think of interrupting me again” Portia said sternly.

“All I am saying is... that if he wishes to seek your company tonight as well, do not deny him".

"I haven’t till now have I. And I cannot believe I am having this conversation with you right now. Enough please.. Lord Fife is just being kind, you should try it sometime", Penelope said before getting up and barging out of the room, leaving her speechless mother behind.

She didn't really know where she was going as long as she was away. Her mother had gone mad. Crazy. Lord Fife being interested in her and all that nonsense ... it was ridiculous and yet there was a small voice inside her that thought... what if her mother....

Oh great, now she was starting too. Had she not concluded earlier that he was just being friendly towards her. That was it, nothing more, nothing less. Hadn't Eloise arrived by now? It would be by now... if she rushed to the entrance perhaps she could perhaps witness her arrival. She stepped eagerly and hurriedly through, god it seemed to take ages but when she got there she was told by the servants that Eloise and co, were not there yet.

She suspected there had been a delay on the way, they really should have been there by now.

Penelope therefore walked back, aimless, and decided that there was nothing to do but wait since she didn't want to go to see her two sisters. Wait, she thought to herself. Wasn't the study nearby? The one at the end of the building where she had sat with Eloise earlier, wanting to avoid both their families.

Oh yes, she remembered it well now. She could hide there temporarily and perhaps then gather her senses there. Penelope looked back to see if the coast was clear and hurried to the study.

Without looking closely, she opened the door and rushed in but... soon stilled in her movements. For sitting in the fauteuil by the window was none other than Lord Fife himself.

"Oh." Why could she only say 'oh' in the proximity of this man?

"Miss Featherington, hello. What a pleasant surprise? How are you?", he asked kindly while slowly rising.

"I am well thank you. I'm sorry.... I didn't know anyone would be here and I just dropped in. I want to leave you to it, then," she murmured, turning a quarter turn to continue her way back.

"I didn't mind... at all. Like I said, it was a pleasant surprise, but may I ask you a question?", to which she nodded a tad nervously, intrigued by what he was going to ask.

"What caused you to seek refuge, here, I presume? "he said as his eyes made a round through the room.

Well, it had to do with you she wanted to say but she just held back.

"Are you alright as you seemed distressed as you entered and are even now".

"No... I mean yes, everything is fine", she nodded.

"Are you certain?", he pressed.

" I am, thank you Lord Fife for inquiring".

"Alright then...", he said but somewhere he didn't seem to quite believe it.

She nodded for a moment and wanted to turn her back on him again until she realised she had yet to apologise.

"I'm sorry..."

He looked at her confused - she had just said sorry, hadn't she?

"For when I saw you last, in the green house. I shouldn't have... questioned you like that" she stated as she bit her lip nervously.

Robert took a few steps towards her and when he was right in front of her, he looked down for a moment and then at her.

"Miss Featherington... Can we agree one thing? That you stop apologising to me. It is unnecessary and besides, I believe I am the one who should apologise here and not you. However, I must confess to you that I am not sorry.... After all, I don't think I did anything wrong..."

At this statement she couldn’t help but look up directly at him, which was a mistake but no regrets? What did he mean by that?

"I think it would be wise for you to leave now" he said matter-of-factly.

"I gathered from a reliable source that the Viscount was found alone with miss Sheffield last year upon which they were forced to marry. We wouldn't want to see a repeat... or would we?" he said with a smirk.

And there it was again, that teasing... that... something that took her back into confusion but just as well his phrases urged her to quickly make her exit.

She gave him a short nod in farewell and then walked to the door. She opened it carefully and looked both ways intently before seeing that the coast was done and left.

"Pen!" exclaimed Eloise when she saw her best friend before giving her an embrace.

"The wheel of our carriage suddenly snapped off... Luckily we weren't going too fast. Anyway, it's good to see you".

"Likewise.. How unfortunate about the delay.. Did um all of you manage to make it today?.”

"Yes, everyone is here.. by enforcement. Anthony said we had to come or else. I am not sure what his deal is, he never seemed to care much for these types of things, but I assume it is different now he is married " Eloise pondered.

"That's good to hear, that you are all here.. Sorry about the threat though,” Penelope smiled.

"Seriously. Even Daphne is there... with Auggie and Simon and there were meant to be on a trip she told me. Anyway, I'm going to freshen up, it’s quite necessary. We had to wait outside, and I truly believe that I have never sweated so much in my life; I am certain I smell like a farm animal or worse than.."

"Eloise Bridgerton! A lady doesn't say such a thing," reprimanded Violet who walked in.

Eloise flashed Pen a sneaky smile but then her face shifted back into innocence.

"Will I see you later?", Eloise asked.

Penelope smiled as confirmation and a few seconds later Eloise left. She decided to go back to her room and get ready as well.

The garden party was a success.

The guests spent their time playing games, sitting in the sun, enjoying refreshments. The Bridgerton’s along with Kate and her sister Edwina were enjoying themselves in what was called Pall Mall, Penelope knew, and she knew better than to play along since things could get heated between them as none of them liked to lose. Penelope watched them, standing by the table where she had fetched some lemonade.

It was Colin's turn now and she watched as he graciously hit a ball away, unfortunately it didn't get far to the delight of Anthony who, though she couldn't hear, provided him with a snide comment.

"I have been informed that they are playing something like croquet" she heard someone say and she hastily looked up at the person standing next to her.

"But they've come up with their own rules apparently...this doesn't really look like the croquet I'm used to. Do you play as well?" he asked, staring directly at her, his gaze fixed.

"I do not, no."

"That is a good thing I suppose. It looks like it is going to get gnarly over there " and Lord Fife was referring to the fact that Anthony looked like he was going to use his mallet to deliver a smack to a grinning Benedict at any moment.

He gave her a polite nod and a semi smile, then shifted. She glanced quickly around her to see if anyone had seen them and her eyes fell on Portia who was watching Penelope, with something of a look that seemed to proclaim "what did I tell you. Penelope shook her head and then just walked toward Eloise who was in a verbal altercation with Anthony and walked toward their side.

"You cheated. You always do!" she exclaimed tersely.

"Nonsense" remarked Anthony though Penelope saw a small twinkle in his eyes as soon as he had spoken.

"I won fair and square. You just need to prepare yourselves better next time" he gloated.

"My dear, you forget that it is more important to with your family than it is to win" Kate said with a disapproving tone.

"Oh really, weren't you the one who bragged about how often you used to beat Edwina with playing cards?" Anthony remarked making Kate proceeding to glare at him.

"She used to cheat too " stated Edwina matter-of-factly.

"I did no such thing!.”

"Oh, you so did," smiled Edwina.

The party arrived with the other guests and there Anthony made a little announcement, that one had time until dinner to engage in activities of one's own if one wished. For example, he recommended a walk to the nearest brook or a visit to downtown and let them know they would provide transportation if they so desired.

The Featherington's went back to their rooms, Penelope was allowed by her mother, to her surprise to stay with Eloise but was expected to return in time to prepare for dinner.

Once that was done Penelope had to wear a bright orange dress, at her mother's insistence and she did not gather why her mother persisted that it looked nice in combination with her hair colour because that was far from the truth. Oh well, she was used to walking around in less than flattering dresses and tonight certainly wasn’t different.

Dinner was enjoyable and Penelope was enjoying herself, apart from the comment Cressida had made at the sight of her, "oh Penelope matches perfectly with your hair," and she had said these words with difficulty, as if she might burst into laughter at any moment. Penelope had only said thank you politely and ignored her for the rest.

Dinner was flavourful and the company, apart from Cressida then, was pleasant and Penelope was enjoying herself, but the evening was not yet over. They were asked to come to the ballroom where soon the orchestra began to play. Penelope watched how Anthony and Kate were dancing and how lovingly Anthony seemed to be looking at his wife. Then she saw Edwina dancing with Lord Lumley, a guest that no one really knew, and that people were surprised at, but not Penelope. It was clear that Lord Lumley had a crush on Edwina and therefore Kate or Anthony had invited him for a reason. It seemed that Edwina was reciprocating the feeling now. She expected to hear shortly that Lord Lumley and Edwina were engaged.

Penelope glanced around the room looking for Colin to. to see him dancing with Melinda Carlyle. It didn't matter that he came up to her afterwards to dance with her, explaining that Melinda had never been to Aubrey Hall before and he felt it was his duty, or something or other, to dance with her first.

"Of course. how thoughtful of you" she had said but she had seen something, something in her gaze that suggested he liked her for he had smiled at the mention of her name When the dance was over she walked back with lead in her shoes and was on the verge of tears but held back just barely.

"Miss Featherington," she heard someone call after her, a familiar voice by now and that was a strange thought, yet somewhere comforting. She slowly turned to face her him and waited.

"May I have the pleasure of a dance with you?" asked Lord Fife.

"Certainly" she replied politely with a nod, reluctantly for she wanted to disappear into a corner rather than dance, but she walked toward him. There was something ... gentle in his gaze, she noted but she quickly reminded herself of her previous determinate thought that he was only being nice to her.

They assumed the beginner's position but when he rested his palm on her upper back, more emphatically than before she let out a small gasp, one that she hoped he hadn't noticed. The music started and they moved slowly, taking the first few steps carefully, at least he did that on purpose she suspected because she felt nervous again and she contributed that back to him as she did prior.

Eventually though she let herself be led along, trusting his assuring grip and their movements quickened, in coordination, with the music and by the end of this dance Penelope felt a lot better somehow. They bid each other a polite farewell and Penelope re-joined her family, jealously pursued by Cressida but she did not notice this.

"Lord Fife seems to enjoy dancing with Penelope" remarked Violet with a subtle, knowing glance at Portia, while sipping her drink.

"Seems like it... indeed" replied Portia, giving her frenemy an equally subtle but knowing look.

Robert felt hot, uneasily hot. The way she had felt in his arms, when he had pressed his palm on her back, the little gasp she had emitted in her startled state, inadvertently pushing herself closer to him, briefly bumping into him when she did so... it had felt good.

Quite good and it made him want more. Much. Much. MORE. Good God, he didn't mean to fall for the girl,

Robert rushed outside which made no sense because it was still hot outside, he truly detested summer, he noted, autumn and winters were much more to his liking. Robert was just about to turn back inside but no such luck.

"Fife!.”

Oh God ... not now. Not now, he had no desire to do this, but he nevertheless turned around with a sigh.

"Colin, hello" he greeted reluctantly but the latter did not greet back, instead he appeared rather unfriendly as he marched over to Robert.

"No greeting back, that seems like a violation of basic decorum to me" he said sarcastically but Colin didn’t respond.

"Why are you dancing with Penelope again?", he asked standing a few steps away from Robert.

"Why do you?" Robert countered.

"I dance with her because she is a family friend of ours, that is why,” Colin answered snippily.

"Oh...sorry I didn't know you lot had sole rights to her" drawled Robert.

"Should I ask your permission from now on?" he continued, his irritation only growing.

Honestly, the nerve ... How dare Colin, Robert was many years older than him, even than Anthony, the disrespect of asking him for justification.

"No, I'd rather you not dance with her at all," Colin said angrily.

"And why is that?"

"We both know why,” Colin stated with determination.

“I don’t, do care to explain to me.

“Fine. It is because of your reputation. I told you before, Penelope is a sweet girl and you-".

"Hold up" Robert said, while making a stop sign with his right palm and at the same time taking a few steps into Colin’s direction.

"What do you mean with my 'reputation'?".

“Do I really have to spell things out for you,” Colin said.

“I am asking you to do so, aren’t I!” Robert exclaimed.

"Fine then. Let us talk about reputation of having bastard kids throughout all of London shall we?.”

It took a few seconds for Robert to compose himself as if he had to process what Colin had just stated but when he did he felt like punching Colin, over and over.

He refrained from doing so but barely and instead he put a couple of fingers on his chest and pushed him backwards.

"Don't you dare speak of things you know nothing about," Robert stated, enunciating every word.

"Don’t. You. Dare.," he repeated while pushing Colin back for the second time.

Colin was just about retaliate, Robert was sure of it and in his mind he was already bracing for the attack and his counterattack, but it did not come to that.

"What's going on here?" the host of the event wanted to know. Colin and Robert continued to grimly stare at each other.

"I believe I asked a question" Anthony remarked. Colin broke eye contact and turned to his brother.

"Nothing, brother" and then he turned to Robert to continue with:

"We had a little misunderstanding, but it has already been cleared up. Right Robert?"

Anthony looked at Robert Fife and he couldn't remember seeing him so angry before but soon Robert seemed to fall back into his usual nonchalance.

"Your brother is right, Viscount. All water under the bridge now" and he gave a faux smile to make his point extra clear.

"Good,” Anthony replied “although he didn’t believe a word of what they had claimed “then I would advise you to go back inside. Both of you".

Colin nodded at this suggestion and left but not before staring at Robert with the same distaste as earlier. The Viscount followed not long after, thankfully not pressing the matter further, to Robert’s relief.

The rest of the evening went by rather uneventful and at some point the guests retreated to their chambers, as did Robert but just like other nights, he felt too restless to sleep as he pondered about what had happened a few hours ago. It was clear to him that Colin was jealous but on the other hand he gathered nothing because... if indeed he was so jealous why hadn't he decided to court Penelope himself? It did not make sense and the only conclusion he could draw was that Colin did not know what he wanted and acted like a petulant boy whose toy had been taken away...

The whole encounter had left a foul taste in his mouth, and he was bent on revenge. He now knew very well the best way to accomplish that.

************

Tuesday the 26th of May, Featherington house, London

A knock on the door.

"Come in" said Portia as she was busy correcting Philippa’s embroidery, my God, she knew her daughter had good qualities and talents, but embroidery was not one of them.

Their butler Morrison walked in with a serious expression on his face.

"Yes, Morrison?" asked Portia.

"There is a suitor downstairs, my Lady."

The words had an instant effect on Portia, who practically threw the embroidery away (to her daughters chagrin) and even Prudence stood up and waited, in anticipation. Penelope didn't however, yes she was surprised but she assumed that Mr. Finch had finally gathered the courage to court her sister.

"Mommy! I told you! It is Mr. Finch! I am so happy," Philippa stated in elation.

"Actually," Morrison said awkwardly.

"It is Lord Fife, and he is here to see Miss Penelope".

Penelope stood up slowly and the only sound to be heard was the thud of the book she was holding which slipped from her hands and fell to the floor.

Chapter Text

She was practically dragged along and there was little she could do to resist. Who knew that Portia Featherington, her mother possessed such upper arm strength, nothing in her daily routine could have indicated this. A few moments later Penelope was hurried into her mother’s bedroom and taken to the place where the vanity was located.

The vanity was situated next to her mother's bed, close to the window and from the position Penelope was standing in, she could easily look out from the large window at the people walking across the street. She did not go into her mother's room very often, so she had not noticed it before. She wondered idly if her mother ever looked outside or was too busy getting herself dolled up to do so.

"Sit," Portia demanded and Penelope meekly sat down. Of rest, however, there was no question of it as Portia not too gently rubbed make up and other embellishments on her youngest daughter's face, causing Penelope to cough as power dispersed everywhere.

"What are you doing?!" Penelope shrieked.

"What does it look like I am doing? I'm trying to make you presentable for your suitor!" Portia responded.

“He is not my suitor!”, Penelope argued.

“Then why is he here and asking to see you! Why are you acting so dense?.. Now shut up and hold still. I am going to need to put some blush on your face”, Portia said.

  When Portia finished performing her torture, she wanted Penelope to get up to inspect her dress, whether it was adequate but there was no time to change anyway.

"The colour doesn't suit you " concluded Portia with a slanted look. Penelope had put on a pastel blue garment today whose she had been allowed to have made herself for her birthday, after much pleading, more whining to her mother who had only relented at one point, in hopes of shutting Penelope up.

"Yellow looks much better on you" continued Portia and wasn't that ironic? From Portia, she had to wear the most striking colours of dresses that clashed with her hair and skin but pastel blue somehow... was not appropriate. It almost made her laugh, almost but she didn't because she was too nervous to.

"Now listen to me carefully. When you enter the room you shall greet you politely and you shall do the same. He will then proceed what the reasons is for his visit, most likely followed by wishing to give the bouquet he had carefully arranged for you”. 

"You don't know if he even brought fl.. -", Penelope started but Portia gave her such a glare that she didn't finish the rest of her sentence.

"Afterwards I presume he’ll suggest to take a walk and insist there will be a chaperone, of course as is the proper thing to do in these kinds of situations." Portia continued rambling on, but Penelope was already no longer listening.

This was absurd. Absurd. This wasn't happening. This was supposed to be an ordinary day like any other. Reading some books... trying to ignore her family as much as possible. A walk perhaps, together with her best friend Eloise. Then lunch followed by more reading until dinner... and lastly in the comfort of her own room, writing the latest edition of Lady Whistledown as she had picked up on some salacious information at Aubrey Hall and she was eager to convey the information, but it apparently wasn’t in the cards.

She knew something very certain, no matter how this day ended, nothing would come of writing today. She absolutely could not. She couldn't even think normally with her mother's incessant chatter and the beating, nay racing of her heart. And she didn't really know what the latter meant. Not at all.

Robert began to question them if he had not made a mistake and reached his hand to his fob, to read the small clock there. Half an hour or close to that. He had been in it for almost half an hour, and she had not yet appeared.

Was this his punishment for his impertinence, his desire to get back at Colin Bridgerton for the words he had uttered? Instantly, he felt annoyed again at the recollection. It was an embarrassment to be called to account by a brat in his twenties. No, Robert would get his sweet revenge. Because this was all it was... revenge. Sure. in a perhaps even to him incomprehensible way, he felt drawn to Penelope. Sure, he had fantasised about kissing her... slowly. He wondered how she would taste, how her skin would feel against his... her chest pressed against his... and he had wondered if she would watch as he took her nipples into his mouth 1 by 1 or avert her eyes in shyness.

He had thought about what it would be like if their bodies made contact as he entered her slowly, all the while looking at her heavily kissed lips, extending himself to kiss her again as they were too tempting. And he might have thought about how it would feel to feel Penelope writhing under him Robert would go his sweet way with her and to bury himself inside of hers, thrusting like a mad man, relishing in the pleasure he would feel until he could no longer contain himself and....

He was digressing and quite a lot as well. Eyes on the goal, Robert, he reminded himself. Eyes on the goal. Teach Colin Bridgerton a lesson.

The door flung open and there they were in the occupants of the house in all their glory.

"Lord Fife, welcome. What an unexpected pleasure" Portia greeted sweetly.

"Thank you Mrs. Featherington. I hope I'm not disturbing you" he replied.

“Not at all Lord Fife. We’re happy to have you.”

"Misses Featherington", he acknowledged as he brought his attention to the three ladies standing before him.

Prudence and Phillipa responded and greeted him awkwardly yet politely, but Penelope remained silent. She just stood there and stared until she received a not too gentle poke, nay elbow of her mother in her side, admonishing her to speak.

"Lord Fife, welcome. It is good to see you,” Penelope croaked.

"Thank you," Robert smiled and he couldn't help but find her endearing at that moment. She had an almost comically large amount of blush on her face, and it was not exactly flattering. It was clear that someone, her mother he suspected, had gone overboard.

Her dress however... he noticed right away how it’s cool tone accentuated her skin but also her, the latter falling freely along her neck. Her do was r 'do was less formal than he was and more casual, he suspected they hadn't had time to pay attention to Penelope's locks too, but he didn't mind at all.... In fact, he rather liked what he saw.

"I didn't really know what to bring but it seems to me that flowers are always a good choice."

Robert turned backwards and walked over to the small coffee table and then handed out a bouquet one by one to all the Featherington. a trick he had picked up from Anthony Bridgeton, who in turn had copied the move it from his brother-in-law, Simon, he had heard. He thought the idea was quite clever because one obviously had to try to influence the other members of the family as best one could when courting a potential candidate. He wasn't in that aspect, courting her but ... he figured it would make a good impression.

Philippa, Prudence, and Portia graciously accepted and thanked him.

He purposefully stayed a little longer in front of Penelope and handed her the most beautiful set, 1 he had personally chosen, a mix of tulips and roses in all sorts of colours.

"For you, miss Penelope," he said. Not Featherington but Penelope, he had stated, and he had purposely lingered a second too late, making sure he would look into her eyes.

He saw her gulp for a moment before politely accepting the arrangement. Their fingers brushed each other as they handed it over and this time it was his hands that lingered for a moment before hers withdrew, nervously, 

Robert walked back, not far away but he remained close, and he addressed the company.

"The weather is lovely today. I was wondering if I may take miss Penelope on a walk, of course with a chaperone that you can provide, perhaps one of you would like to come along, should she not have objections of course."

"I", Penelope said, but her mother was ahead of her.

"She would be delighted to" she replied with a big smile, making Robert pause.

"Thank you but I would like to inquire what your daughter’s answer, Mrs Featherington, if you don’t mind of course.”

Portia frowned for a moment but then pretended nothing was wrong but her tense look towards Penelope suggested otherwise.

"I would like to go for a walk, my Lord " she squeaked; it was squeaking unfortunately because she could barely speak, or so it felt like it.

"Well, that's that settled... Unfortunately, though, we can't chaperone you.  Just before you came, in fact, we invited the Cowpers for.. tea" lied Portia.

"Our housekeeper, Mrs. Varley can chaperone if you like".

"That is odd. I wasn't aware of a visit from the Cowpers" Prudence stated clearly puzzled by this sudden change of 'plans'.

Portia smiled sweetly and then, without even glancing around scathingly before speaking with gritted teeth.

"The invitation has just been extended, my dear. I send someone to alert the Cowpers before Lord Fife arrived".

Prudence glanced at Philippa, who stared at her with penetrating expression and eyes wide open and whose had long since gathered what her mother's plan was, until Prudence finally caught on.

"OH, right mama. Silly, silly me I completely forgot. How lovely that the Cowpers are gracing us with their company. Dear, dear friends of... ours," Prudence stammered hoping that Robert would believe her little act.

"I completely understand. After all I am the one that arrived unannounced. I should have taken your possible plans into account. Please have Mrs Varley accompany us", Robert stated dutifully.

He didn't know what Portia was up to and if there was one thing he detested it was plays and what he had just been a spectator seemed to be a rather bad one.

"Certainly, she and Penelope will meet you downstairs" replied Portia with a rather pleased expression on her face.

"Perfect. I'll have my carriage driven to the front" he replied and with a few polite nods and a glance at a pensive, strike that, rather anxious-looking Penelope, he exited the room and walked downstairs.

"Mrs. Varley!!!" screamed Portia when Robert was out of sight, and she had sent Penelope to her room to apply more blush herself.

The poor woman was besides herself when she walked into the room.

"What is wrong, Ma’am? Please don't tell me there is another death in the family or another heir to reckon with?".

"Far from it.. NO mishaps or a bothersome relative this time.. In fact, might I say it seems like our luck is about to finally change," Portia said cheerfully.

"However, I do need your assistance in something" Portia stated earnestly..

“I am counting on you to help us Mrs. Varley”.

The ride was the most awkward one Penelope had experienced in her entire life. Lord Fife, had gallantly helped her into the carriage, reaching for her gloved hand as he stood at the side of the vehicle. That brief touch was enough to make her even more flustered than she already was, there was a barrier of a glove, but the heat of his fingers seemed to penetrate it with ease.

She sat at the edge of the carriage with next to her Mrs Varley, who was appearing just as awkward as Penelope, and across from her was Lord Fife in all his distinguishedness. She didn't look at him but kept looking out of the window, searching for something, a familiar face perhaps. All to distract herself from the nervous feelings that were coursing through her.

The carriage finally arrived at its destination, Hyde Park. Lord Fife got out first and helped Mrs Varley to exit and then did the same to Penelope, once again reaching for her hand.

And there they were outside, Mrs. Varley dutifully took her position taking a few steps behind the couple.

"Shall we? " she heard him say and when she stared at the direction the question came from she saw Lord Fife extending an arm to her. She swallowed away the lump in her throat and interlocked her arm with his...

She quivered while doing so but gladly he didn't appear to notice or pretend not to. They slowly begun walking. He was right, Penelope had to admit, it was indeed a beautiful day as they began strolling through Hyde Park, at a slow stride.

"Beautiful day it is today, wouldn't you agree" he said, after they walked a short distance in complete silence. Startled from her ponderings she turned towards him and for a moment he was mesmerised by her blue eyes and that 'something' was there again. He didn't know what it was... but it couldn't be ignored.

She averted her eyes first as she did the other times prior and looked ahead.

"Yes, my Lord. Indeed, it is.", she said, the sentence followed by a letting out what he presumed was a held breath.

“I am perplexed about something, and I hope you will be so kind to clear things up for me.” he asked her, interrupting her internal ponderings once more.

Her brows rose in confusion, and she awaited his question.

"There is no visit planned from the Cowpers, is there?" he asked with an amused smile.

This put Penelope in a tricky situation. She did not want to lie to him, nor did she want to put her family in an awkward position, by revealing Portia's lie.

"The Cowpers are indeed good friends of ours "(not hers, she hated Cressida and vice versa) "but I was not aware of a visit" she replied leaving the truth in the middle. Or well concealing the truth then. He said nothing, looked in front of him for a moment before, abruptly leaning towards her, towards her ear and whispering, in a sultry way:

"I don't believe any of it but it's sweet that you’re trying to protect your mother".

 Her heart began to beat like crazy, because of the sudden proximity of him close to her or the way he had spoken, she wasn't sure, but it influenced her.

Penelope didn't have much time to recuperate because a few seconds later her attention was caught by something completely different.

"My Lord, Miss Penelope" she heard Mrs Varley say and as if by now they were so used to each other, they both turned at the same time to see a stricken Mrs Varley.

"I am very sorry, but do you mind if I sit down somewhere. It is so hot, and it is starting to affect me" said Mrs Varley and she emphasised her disposition by flicking a fan over her face.

"Of course not. We could sit over there if you’d like" and he pointed to a white bench in the distance.

"Oh no, no! I'd hate to be culprit as to why you can’t go on. I will be fine in a few moments. You must feel free to go on without me.” 

"But that would mean we would no longer have a chaperone. That.. is not appropriate," Penelope remarked with panic in her voice.

Ah, and there we have it - he understood it now. Well played, Mrs Featherington. Well played, fine he thought, I'll play along but I don't know if you're going to get what you want.

"I am aware, but I can’t walk further now unfortunately,” Mrs. Varley said with a pitiful intonation.

"Miss Featherington is right, Mrs Varley. It wouldn't be appropriate" and he could imagine that something of relief came over Penelope's face.

"That's why I suggest we just walk through and then return. What do you think, miss Penelope?" and he again broke the rule of addressing her directly with her name.

 "Whatever you wish my Lord" she replied with doubt in her voice as she glanced at their housekeeper.

"Good, I am glad we have that sorted out. Now Mrs. Varley, let us accompany you to the bench-"

"Oh. No need, thank you, I'll walk there myself,” she said and before either Robert or Penelope knew what was happening, she had already walked away, clearly not in any way affected by the 'heat'.

Robert had to do his best not to burst into laughter and barely held back.

He then addressed Penelope and asked if it were okay for them to continue, she nodded briefly, internally panicking about the fact that they were now alone, and everyone could see them.

Fortunately, the park was not very crowded today to Penelope's relief.

"I hope you weren’t taken back by my dropping by and asking to see you, today. " Robert said.

"No, I just was a bit surprised" she lied. She was very, very so and highly astonished if she were honest.

"And why is that?" asked Robert her seriously, gazing at her earnestly in an expectant position.

"I don’t get many visits and especially not from not from gentlemen." she replied absentmindedly, figuring out her error much later, now wishing the grounds would open and swallow up whole.

"Then they are fools" he said to which she looked at him with curiosity.

"My contemporaries, the male population of the ton, they are fools, and I unfortunately cannot maintain that I was one of them.

Upon hearing this she halted suddenly causing him to do as well and she proceeded to face him with an inquiring expression on her faces.

"But I am no longer a fool, trust me" he proclaimed as he stared deeply at her.

BRIDGERTON HOUSE, SAME DAY, TWENTY MINUTES PRIOR

If it was one thing Colin loved besides travelling it was food. Travelling and food went well together anyway, and he loved feasting on local cuisine wherever he went including during his trip to Greece.

He was devouring his third... well not third biscuit when he noticed both his brothers staring at him.

"What?" he asked with his mouth full.

"Do you ever stop eating?" asked Anthony with a faux concerned look.

"Seriously Colin, that's already your fourth biscuit I reckon" Benedict gathered.

"It's not. It's my second biscuit and stop checking will you? Bunch of killjoys. Allow me to indulge in the little pleasures I have. I rather not become like you lot. Benedict, for reasons beyond my comprehension or knowledge have been sulky for what the last two years (writers note: shameless plug to my story Balance) “and you," Colin pointed at Anthony" are sulky because you miss Kate".

"That's not true at all" protested Anthony who did not like being spoken to about the truth, yes it was true, he missed Kate. She had been invited, along with Edwina, Daphne and her children, and his mother by Lady Danbury to stay for a week at her estate in Cornwall and he now regretted that he had said she could go, since a note had arrived saying they would stay a few days longer.

"It is, there is no use in lying" Colin grinned.

Anthony was just about to give Colin a smack across the head when Eloise came in who didn't seem quite herself.

"What's the matter Eloise? Something bad happen?" asked Anthony worriedly.

"Nothing bad I suppose”, Eloise stated her face expressing nothing but confusion.

"Doesn't look like it," argued Benedict.

"No, it’s good news I presume, I am just taken back a bit. I went to see Penelope to see if we could do something together, but she was not there which I found strange as she had not told me she had plans-".

"You can't expect her to be at your beck and call, Eloise nor that she should inform you about her leisure time" chided Anthony. Colin was not really paying attention, more preoccupied with continuing to eat.

"No of course I don't expect her to, she is my best friend and allowed to do what she wants. By the way, I hate it when you interrupt me. I was just going to explain” Eloise reprimanded.

"My apologies, dear, dearest sister. Do continue please.", Anthony stated sarcastically.

Eloise scoffed and rolled her eyes before she spoke once more.

"As I was saying. Pen wasn’t home. Prudence said Lord Fife has dropped by with flowers and all and that they are now on a walk together in Hyde Park-"

"I am sorry, what?" Colin asked as he stood up.

"Lord Fife actually presented himself as suitor for Penelope today".

"Oh."

"It’s a bit odd no? I am happy for her but to be honest, a bit surprised, in a pleasant way. I’ll have to go back to the Featherington’s in the evening. I am dying to know what happened" said Eloise before she left the drawing room, leaving the three brothers behind.

"If this meeting is what I suspect it is I suppose Portia Featherington will be overjoyed to have one of her daughters wed soon" noted Benedict.

"Do you really think that there will be a wedding?,” asked Colin. Benedict saw Colin's depressed face and realised something which Colin may not have realised himself yet.

"No, it was just a thought in passing,” Benedict answered with a brief smile, but the answer didn’t seem to convince Colin.

"I... I just remembered that I have an appointment. I must go" and a moment later he too, had exited the room.

Anthony and Benedict glanced at each other briefly.

"Do you think he still has a chance?" asked Benedict and Anthony knew very well what Benedict meant.

" I do not know Robert well but there is one thing of which I am certain. He often gets what or who he wants..”.

*******

"What do you mean by that?" she asked him, it was maybe too forward of her, but she had to know.

"I mean by that I see you when others don't. You can be in the farthest corners of the room, but I always spot you, Penelope, and notice. I notice how remarkable you are.".

They were interlocked in staring once more, overcome by the sentiment that overtook them earlier.

“Others may be blind. I am not." he whispered as his eyes went to her inviting lips, fuelling an urge in him to lean forward, to have his lips meet with hers but they were in a public place and not alone.

There was an earnestness in the way he had uttered the last, something he could not possibly have faked which was the reason for her heart abruptly swelling. That completely overwhelmed her and made it impossible for her to move even an inch.

Robert remained fixated on her mouth, and he had just decided to kiss her, public be damned until he heard an annoying noise, namely someone interrupting them.

"Lord Fife. Pen!".

Robert glanced around and saw and out-of-breath Colin Bridgerton standing there.

"How nice to run into you here".

Robert said nothing but just stared angrily at the intruder.

"Are you alone? Sans chaperone aren't you?" asked Colin as he glanced around faux worriedly.

"We are not alone, Colin. Mrs Varley is close by," Robert spoke with gritted teeth.

" I see, well I don’t see her. Where is she at present?" Colin inquired with a smile.

"We left her at the benches s walk over to her then since you are so worried about her," Robert suggested, still highly, supremely annoyed.

Pen could do nothing but meekly walk along, now feeling completely baffled by the day's events. First Lord Fife came along and now, Colin of all people just popped up.

"What are you actually doing here?" asked Robert.

"I was in the neighbourhood. I had an appointment nearby and lucky me, I ran into you" replied Colin cheerfully.

"And with whom did you have the appointment then if I may ask?.”

"With a friend,” Colin replied.

"Which friend?" Robert pressed.

"Why are you eager to ascertain that information? " Colin countered sharply.

"Just asking. You said you had an appointment with a friend, maybe we have someone in common".

"You don't know him; I can assure you".

"Try me" Robert stated sweetly but Colin did not want to go any further into it.

"Mrs. Varley, there you are “Colin exclaimed.

"Mr. Bridgerton, hello,” a flustered Mrs. Varley greeted.

"I gather you are accompanying Robert and Pen today" Colin stated.

"Yes, yes I am. I was a bit taken back by the heat just now and had to.. sit down for a bit but I am feeling fine.”

"That's good to hear although I do not think it is wise to remain outside for much longer if it makes you unwell. I suggest I take you and Pen home. My carriage is just around the corner -"

"Absolutely. I'll take both ladies home. It would be unsuitable if you were to do so as I was the one that brought them here.”

"I'm only thinking practically, Robert. I must go home and Pen lives close by. It will be no problem for me to drop her off. Won’t it Pen?" asked Colin her.

"I guess not." Penelope weakly agreed.

"Perfect. Then that is settled, now if you want to come with me..." said Colin with a smile, in an expectant position, not liking that Pen and Robert were viewing each other very intently again.

"Thank you, Lord Fife for an enjoyable afternoon."

"It was my pleasure miss Penelope" and on hearing these words Colin seemed quite annoyed, but he recovered quickly.

"Have a nice day, Robert" was the last thing he said before moving and taking a few steps away from Robert. Penelope and Mrs Varley followed him meekly. He felt defeated, outsmarted by a boy, which added insult to injury.

But then she glanced around at him, just for a moment, in the same way as before, and he knew he hadn't lost at all.

In fact, the race had only just begun.

Chapter Text

Mrs. Martin, or Bernadette, was snoring in his bed which he found amusing, at the same time he was jealous of her that she could sleep, and he could not.

She had arrived at his Manor last night, right after her husband had shifted to a "business trip" to Birmingham. In reality, Fife knew that Mr. Martin, aka Henry had hefty gambling debts and this "business trip" had more to do with selling property there, an estate he had learned, which had been in Martin's family for hundreds of years. Robert was not aware that apparently Henry's debt was so high that no other option was possible, but he suspected that the man had gotten involved with unsavoury types who might be done with his excuses and displeasure of refusing to pay.

Robert knew exactly which people were involved, they had approached him too, but he had rebuffed them with a swift, condescending reply and asked how they dared even approach him.

It wasn't that he didn't enjoy a game or two in the clubs, but it was nothing to him on betting on horses or boxing matches for example. There were rumours that something had happened to Featherington and that his death was not an "accident" but really hard evidence no one had and for the rest there was no real talk about it. Inappropriate conversation, of course, while enjoying a cognac or a whiskey of course, also Featherington had not been among them for 1.5 years.

If there is one universal truth was on this earth it was that life went on no matter how cliche it sounded. Featherington had long been forgotten about.

Henry had been foolish but most of all gullible and yet somewhere he had a sliver of pity for the man, no doubt it was not easy to have to part with his possessions. He suspected his wife knew nothing about it and Robert was not the person to tell her.

Said wife suddenly turned around which startled Robert and caused him to turn back but then went back to sleep.

He watched her as she slept, her blond curls a mess, due to him he supposed, the recollection of it making him grin. He inspected her face further and concluded that she was not particularly pretty, rather plain looking really, but what she had in her upper regions more than made up for it.

Robert enjoyed going to bed with her and lavish on her copious breasts but otherwise had no feelings for her at all as she simply did not interest him. Bernadette was one of many disgruntled wives who fell easily into his arms. He suspected that Bernadette was all the more disgruntled since she had confided in him that he did not sleep with her. She had told him that he spent many nights away from home and when he returned he "smelled" differently, reeked of cologne, not eau de parfum but cologne.

Bernadette had seemingly not yet made the link, but Robert had. But then again it wasn't up to Robert to tell her. They had met at yet another insipid ball a year ago. Their eyes met and when he saw her smile shyly at him, the smile half hidden behind her fan, he knew he had found his new target and she had easily fallen for his charms.

It had been almost too easy in that regard. However, he couldn't wait to get rid of her tomorrow morning, discreetly of course. He knew she had made up an excuse to go her sister for an overnight stay, so she wasn't going to be around for long anyway.

Robert pulled the blankets a little closer to him; et was a lot colder now, he realized. The blistering heat had given way to a beginning of rainy days, the omen of autumn. He stared up at the ceiling, just for a moment before sighing and closing his eyes, hoping to regain some sleep.

When he awoke he was pleased to see Bernadette to be gone already. One glance at the clock told him it was already ten o'clock; it was but well that he had no appointments today. He had been at the factory yesterday and after a brief conversation with the manager he saw his presence was not long needed.

He called his butler and ordered him to get the bath ready and also order the cook to provide a late breakfast. Sipping his coffee, he flickered through the pages and read the financial section, among others, and about developments in mechanization and realized that on the manufacturing front things were changing rapidly.

He then read Lady Whistledown's leaflet, purely for fun. She was back apparently from an absence of what seemed to be six weeks or perhaps more. There were those who had hoped the writer had finally quit but nothing could be further from the truth.

"Dearest gentle reader.

Did you miss me?

I have missed you; I'll admit.

I hope you can forgive my absence, but I needed some rest, especially after covering such an eventful season. But not to worry, I am back to cover the new craze that is sweeping through the wonderful city of ours..

You see, it's not enough that the people of the ton don't already engage in frivolous balls enough in the summer," Robert had to chuckle, he and Lady Whistledown shared the same sentiments when it came to these events, "it's now also nouvelle mode to organize balls with an autumn theme and I assume winter as well in a few months.

Regardless of my objections to these superfluous gatherings, I can and will assure you one thing. I will be there to report on them all.

Till then, I bid you adieu.

Yours sincerely,

Lady Whistledown".

After a few knocks, the butler entered, and Robert was given permission to enter. "I have mail for you, my lord," Evans said, walking towards him with a silver tray, with an envelope on it, placed on a lace cloth. "Thank you Evans," Robert said as the envelope was accepted. "Is there anything else you wish, my lord?" asked Evans solemnly.

"Yes, have everything cleared up. I will drink the rest of my coffee in my study like this".

"Certainly, sir" Evans said and soon shifted.

Robert looked at the envelope and saw "Carlyle" written on the back, which did ring a bell somewhere but then again did not. He opened the envelope and took out a card.

"You are hereby invited to the Autumn ball of the Carlyle family on the seventh of October."

The seventh of October would be this Saturday.

Well, he realised, you could say a lot about Lady Whistledown but not that she was not current. Robert recalled that he had spoken briefly to WIliam Carlyle a while back and had given him some advice on where best to locate his newly opened textile factory and he supposed that had garnished the invitation. That and the way William had introduced his daughter Melinda to him.

She was much sought after among the finer gentleman of London, but it was rumoured that she had not yet met anyone that had sparked a curiosity within her, at least so far.

Robert had danced with her once but had not otherwise gotten around to courting her, he told himself. The actual truth was that while Melinda Carlyle was a beauty to behold and 'checked all the boxes' for him, and also the boxes of what could be an opportune marriage, Mr Carlyle was rich, extremely rich, he was not particularly interested in her either.

He didn't really know why actually maybe she was just one of the dozens, well mannered, fluent in French (he had heard), wonderful piano forte player (or so he had heard) engaging in conversation, etc but perhaps he was searching g for something else... something more unconventional.

Unintentionally his thoughts ventured to Penelope Featherington. Would she be there? Would she be in London at all he wondered? He hadn't seen her since they had been so rudely interrupted by that wanker of a Bridgerton and had gathered that they had left shortly afterwards. Something to do with an aunt dying he had gathered through word of mouth.

He hoped she had been returned as Robert still had a bone to pick with Colin Bridgerton in particular.

It was Robert's move now and he looked forward to continuing the game.

********

A few days later

Penelope was overjoyed to be back in London. She had found that country life had its charms, but she missed the hustle and bustle of living in a big city. That and she had been bored, vehemently bored.

Right after bizarrely ended afternoon with Lord Fife her mother had received a letter notifying her that her great-aunt, Petunia, was dying. Portia had remembered little about her, apart from the two times she had met her as a child. Somehow, the caretakers for her aunt had found her to be the only remaining family.

Even though Portia did not know Petunia well, she had remembered one thing after her visits to her great aunt. Petunia was rich, quite rich, and so she summoned her servants to pack up their clothing and everything else they might need. Arriving in the countryside, they all met great-aunt Petunia who was bedridden and often struggled to speak. Everyone, including the servants, did not expect Petunia to last long, but she did the days turned into weeks and at one point the Featherington were still there after six weeks.

"Mama. I want to go home" Philippa had whined.

"Me too, mama" continued Prudence to which Portia heaved a deep sigh.

"Listen I'm aware it's not the ideal situation but please girls. It's important that we stay because who knows she might put us in her will, and we will inherit something more. Just a little longer," she pleaded.

And 'luckily' Portia was right because two more days later Petunia died, peacefully in her bed. The girls were distraught, even though they did not know their aunt very well, they had grown fond of her in recent weeks.

A day or two after the funeral, Portia was asked to come to the notary to discuss things. It was not quite right that Portia was the only remaining family, Petunia had another son with whom she was estranged, so most of the inheritance, including the estate would go to him, much to Portia's dismay.

Still, Petunia had thought of her.

"Lady Featherington. The late Petunia Clarkson left you a sum of ..."

Portia heard the amount and almost fainted.

"This sum will be divided and paid to you annually for the next five years. Do you agree to this?".

Portia wasn't sure what to say.

"Lady Featherington, do you hear me?", asked the notary, called Mr Brunson.

"Yes. yes.... of course. I fully agree to the terms," she mumbled quickly.

"Will you sign here then?" asked Brunson and with a quick manoeuvre of her right hand, Portia had signed.

Rich. Portia Featherington was rich. No more money worries for the rest of her life, if of course she had managed her finances though and she intended to, she knew how to manage money better than any man.

They returned triumphantly to London and Penelope knew it would not be long before the news would be known, partly because of her mother, of course. She was therefore not surprised to receive an invitation from the Carlyle's, although she did not want to go. She suspected that the Bridgerton's had also received an invitation and Penelope had no desire to see Colin fawning over Melinda.

She was confused about Colin, it was obvious, at least it seemed that way, that he did not happen to be in the park that day. The way he had been behaving even more puzzled her, she picked up an anomaly against Lord Fife that she had not picked up before.

He had written to her while she was away, but it had been a concise note saying that he hoped her aunt would get well soon but other than that... nothing.

Maybe he didn't think it was appropriate to write more, she did receive letters from Eloise, however. They would see each other again today for the first time after all those weeks apart and looked forward to it.

There was someone else there... who she wondered if he would be present... she hadn't seen him after the debacle either, Lord Fife. That one freaked her out even more, his intentions at least, she couldn't place it very well, half the times she thought about it Penelope concluded that he didn't mean it seriously, was 'courting' this perhaps mocking her and playing games with her but there was a small voice somewhere inside her that said that a connection had been established that day. And that when they locked eyes something had happened that perhaps neither of them could quite place.

She put the ludicrous idea out of her mind. Lord Fife was not serious about her, it was obvious it was a joke to him, perhaps he had been urged by the rest of the 'gentlemen' to pull this cruel prank on her. She didn't have more time to ponder it because the next moment she heard:

"Penelope Featherington, quit your daydreaming and come downstairs now," she heard her mother call out. She took another look in the mirror and saw that the dark green silk dress, embellished with gold wire decorations accentuated her complexion and hair well and the green chamois in her earrings were a good match with her garment. Somehow, her mother had turned around and given her more 'freedom' in choosing her attire and Penelope had immediately banished the sunshine yellow dresses to the attic.

Portia looked at her ensemble and her face shifted into that one of slight disapproval hours but said nothing when she came downstairs. When she arrived after a twenty-minute trip, Penelope feasted her eyes.

The Carlyle residence was imposing, almost as imposing as Aubrey Hall and had an almost equally long driveway lit with torches on both sides. The building in the distance was the closer they got, the more beautiful, built of white marble, with wide columns at the front, an ode to Roman architecture. It did not seem to fit in London this structure but on the other hand it did, it was majestic and magical to behold, Penelope felt like she had entered a fairy tale.

They were kindly greeted by the hosts before walking through to a ballroom that was fit for a king. With paintings and intricate sculptures adorning it, the room reminded her of a museum, not that Penelope had ever been to one, but she suspected one to look like this.

"Portia!" let out Lady Cowper, running to her friends to give them two faux kisses on either side of her cheeks.

"It is lovely to see you, I can tell" and Lady Cowper let her eyes pass over Portia's body and dress "that the countryside has done you good".

It was a sneer, Penelope knew, her mother had gained some weight but not that much either.

"Thank you" Portia replied with gritted teeth.

" I must say I didn't expect to see you Didn't your aunt die only recently?", Sarah asked.

"Great aunt and she died three weeks ago, we stayed longer to help the staff get different positions elsewhere and took care of Petunia's affairs ", Portia lied.

"We have already gone through the obligatory mourning period of 21 days and my poor girls," Portia glanced back "needed some distraction. They've been so sad lately".

"Ah, I see. Then I hope you will enjoy yourselves then" said Sarah with the fakest smile Penelope had ever seen, which her mother replicated.

It was only when they were out of ear sight Portia angrily expressed that "That dreadful woman should mind her own business!".

The majority of the guests finally arrived and Mr Carlyle, declared the ball open but the Bridgerton's had not yet arrived, however. Penelope looked worriedly at the entrance to the ballroom but after a few minutes her worries seemed to be for naught as she saw Eloise, with a scowl on her face that would scare many a suitor away immediately. The expression changed as soon as she saw Penelope.

"Pen" she called out and then hugged her best friend.

"Let's catch up right away", Eloise suggested. "I have so much to tell you".

"Eloise, no" reprimanded Violet Bridgerton.

"I would love it if you at least tried to dance with someone today", Violet continued.

"I would reckon those odds are rather slim" replied Eloise.

"Eloise.." sighed Violet.

"Fine, I will try but I haven't seen Penelope for ages, can I have a conversation with her first?" she exclaimed with displeasure.

Violet glanced at Penelope and conceded.

"Welcome back Penelope, it is good to see again".

"Thank you Mrs. Bridgerton and likewise." she replied with a smile.

"My condolences regarding the loss in your family" Violet continued to which Penelope nodded and smiled briefly as acknowledgement.

"Where are your brothers, they were right behind us. Oh, there they are. And there is Lady Carlyle, come along Eloise, we haven't greeted her yet, it would be rude not to say hello. You can chitchat with Penelope after" said Violet and before Eloise knew it she was dragged away and moving to the other side of the ballroom.

Benedict and Colin walked into the room, sans Anthony and his wife Kate, she suspected that their absence could be explained by the fact that Kate was with child.

A feeling of nervousness instantly overwhelmed Penelope as Colin and Benedict Bridgerton came closer. Both greeted her politely and offered their condolences and then Benedict walked away as he spotted a friend he hadn't seen in a while.

"Pen" greeted Colin.

"Hello Colin."

"It is good to see you.. We missed you.... I mean Eloise missed you," he corrected himself.

"I missed you too, I mean I missed Eloise too", she corrected herself, awkwardly and then quickly changed the subject.

"The.. Carlyle estate is so beautiful, wouldn't you agree? "..

" Absolutely. This is one of the most beautiful buildings I've seen... but"

"Aubrey Hall is better" finished Pen for him.

"You read my mind" replied Colin smiling.

"Listen Pen, would you like to have a dance la-..."

"Bridgerton, hello" he abruptly heard him say and turned to the person who greeted him.

"Fife," Colin exclaimed in surprise.

Robert walked up to him and shook his hand roughly.

"How have you been?" asked Robert 'kindly'.

"Great, erm and how are you? " stammered Colin.

"Splendid but I am a bit worried at the moment for your sake. I noticed you standing here with miss Featherington" and with those part of his sentence he stared at her with those piecing blue eyes, the sudden movement taken her a bit back.

"I thought you would like to know that people are looking into your direction and whispering which I suspect is never a good thing".

He was right, Pen could tell, people had been looking in their direction and talking about them, a quick glance around the crowd was proof enough. She mumbled a brief goodbye and then made to leave, walking as fast as she could to her sisters.

"Right, thank you... er Fife".

"You're most welcome, my boy " Fife said and tapped Colin's shoulder as she left, a little too hard probably than he should have.

It was nice to catch up with Eloise, but Pen's head was not quite there she had to confess. Colin didn't ask her to dance even though he had alluded to wanting to. She supposed the incident just now was the prelude to that, that he was still embarrassed and was now deliberately avoiding her, which was understandable.

However, when she saw him heading towards Melinda Carlyle, her confidence sank even more. She watched as he effortlessly guided her through the dance, smiling at her and there was something in that expression that told her that Colin was smitten with her. However, she could not fathom that the feelings however were not mutual, that to Melinda Colin Bridgerton was one of many other suitors with whom she lacked a 'spark'. Nice, certainly. Charming, certainly. Attraction? No.

It was too much for Penelope too handle and with an excuse that she had to go to the toilet, she excused herself.

Only she had no idea that where the ladies' room could be located and, lost in one of the many, many corridors or the estate, got slightly panicked. What she did not know was that she was in the left wing instead of the right; she had in fact 'walked around' the building and ended up in a different place than she should have.

She opened a door and entered the room quickly only to realise quickly that she had walked the wrong way once more. Instead of a corridor leading to the ballroom she had ended up in a library. up in a library.

"Is it me or do you have a tendency of wondering off too much and getting lost in the process?.... " someone asked. She turned around slowly as she recognised the voice.

"Lord Fife."

"Miss Featherington" he greeted, taking her in.

"Well?" he asked to which Penelope blinked in confusion.

"I don't understand, my Lord".

"Am I right? Do you get lost easily?" he asked with a slightly amused undertone.

"I suppose so" admitted Penelope awkwardly..

"I would be more than happy to escort you back if you wish", Robert suggested.

"That will be not necessary".

"Why because I am not Colin Bridgerton?" he countered and without Robert knowing there was a hint of annoyance in the question.

For the second time tonight, her cheeks felt warm with embarrassment.

"Colin is a friend", she replied weakly.

"And I am not I suppose?" he asked. Was she going crazy, or could she detect hurt in his eyes?

"I didn't say that".

There was a brief silence between them following that statement, as if both needed time to analyse said statement.

"May I ask what you are doing here? Shouldn't you be inside as well?".

"I will answer your question. Same as always, wanted to escape the insipid crowd for bit and did some wondering off myself." he smiled.

"Although I suspect your reason might differ to mine ", Robert reasoned.

"What do you mean by that?", Penelope wanted to know.

"Miss Carlyle dancing with the aforementioned Mr Bridgerton, I presume".

"That has nothing to do with it, Penelope argued weakly "and I don't see how it is any of your business, my Lord."

"You're right but maybe.. just maybe you deserve better than someone that doesn't see what is in front of him."

Penelope took a deep breath to garner some courage as the following words she was going to say might be considered impolite.

"It is a good thing that we ran into each other, I have thought about.. whatever is going on with you and I and I have concluded that whatever your intention is, it will likely not benefit me but rather you."

"Do you really think so?."

"I don't think you are being genuine," she followed up with, with hesitation in her voice. He pondered about her statement for a while before he answered.

"I would tell you the truth, but the question is. Do you want to know the truth?" he asked, warning her.

He was daring her, she realised, and she was wrong to entertain the notion, to entertain him this way but she nodded decidedly. Robert stepped closer and saw that she wanted to retreat.

"Don't move" he demanded, and it was enough to make her stand still at the spot. When he reached her she didn't move either. She shivered at their proximity but somehow, Penelope didn't feel scared, apprehensive perhaps, frightened no.

He was really standing right in front of her now. She didn't look at him but was breathing rapidly and it caused her chest to rise and fall, he noticed as he bent closer to her, to even more close their distance.

"Here's the truth" he whispered in her ear or close to it, their height difference proven to be difficult.

Her breath hitched in anticipation.

"I find you fascinating. There is something mysterious about you, as if you're not quite who you seem to be. I've watched you many times. You may stand in the corner but you're observant, as if you're always listening in. You are intelligent, perhaps highly so but people don't notice that. You see, Colin might not have noticed. Your family might not have noticed, none of the ton might have but I... ", he slowly reached for her chin so she would face him" I do. I notice you, Penelope even if everyone else doesn't ", Robert whispered.

His finger was still rested on her chin, and he looked at her, intently, once more.

They were nearing an edge they couldn't come back from and the sentiment currently experienced by both of them was pushing them closer and towards the precipice.

This time, there was something inescapable between them... they had shared long gazes before but each time there was a barrier but not now. The attraction between them was undeniable So when he got the feeling again that he wanted, no needed to kiss her, he slowly bent forward but didn't kiss her yet. He stopped last second, wanting to make sure he wasn't forcing her into doing something she didn't want to.

However, the way she stared at him at the moment, it were not looks of dread but anticipation and curiosity. It prompted him to continue as he couldn't hold back any longer.

When he bent forward and established contact with her lips it was a lovely, lovely sensation. Her lips were plump and tasted sweet, enticing him to taste more, revel in the way her mouth was pressed onto his. It felt right this, he felt. It felt right like this was exactly how things should be.

She didn't kiss him back initially but when she shyly did it was the most wonderful experience.

He was closing to losing control as he wanted increasingly more but just when he was about to take more he heard:

"What the hell is going on here?".

Both heavily startled and spooked they retreated to see standing there right in front of them none other than Anthony Bridgerton.  

Chapter Text

None other than Anthony Bridgerton and he did not look entirely happy to put it mildly. What Penelope could not have known was that the Bridgerton's did intend to attend the ball, but they were only slightly late. In fact, there was joyous news, Lord Lumley had come to ask for Edwina's hand in marriage and that occasion had to be celebrated.

"Anthony, I mean Viscount..," Penelope croaked, still in shock.

"Penelope" replied Anthony measuredly before he continued, "I think it would be wise for you to leave as soon as possible. Your mother could not find you and I offered to look for you. I had figured you might have gotten lost, but this is.. certainly not what I was expecting."

Penelope was going to faint from embarrassment, right there on the spot if she continued to stay here any longer.

"Should you get lost... take the left corridor and follow the music back to the ballroom Anthony continued.

Without saying a word and not even daring to look up at either gentleman, Penelope ran away, leaving the aforementioned gentlemen alone.

Robert prepared for what he assumed would be a spirited conversation.

"What are you doing, Robert?", Anthony asked with gritted teeth.

Robert stared at him in confusion although he very well gathered what Anthony was referring to.

"I am not following," he lied.

Anthony took a few steps forward to Robert.

"Oh, I am certain that you do follow. Penelope Featherington? She isn't akin to of your usual conquests.."

"What is wrong with Penelope Featherington?", Fife asked defensively.

"Nothing, absolutely nothing but she is not the same as one of the... ladies you choose to affiliate yourself with".

He knew very well what Anthony meant by the emphasis on 'ladies', inwardly he began to be moderately annoyed by the arrogance of the man in front of him.

" Are you pretending, Viscount, that you were known for your affiliations? I seem to recall you having an affinity for going to the opera, or not?," Robert reminded.

And now it was Anthony's turn to get angry as the Bridgerton's shifted in annoyance and his mouth settled into a thin line.

"Those.. affiliations belong to my past and I don't appreciate you calling me on it, Fife," he said.

"Well, I don't appreciate you pretending to be holier than me because, quite frankly you are not ".

Anthony was going to make a scathing remark in return but decided that this would only make things worse so instead he took a deep breath and decided to change tactics.

"Penelope is a girl who has been raised in a sheltered fashion, she has no father to stand up for or intercede for her so therefore she is vulnerable to.. men's intentions. The girl is innocent to a fault, Robert."

He begged to differ, there was something about Penelope Featherington that was not innocent at all. He supposed that to an outsider she did come across as doe eyed and precious, but he could see through that. In part she was certainly good-hearted, but people didn't give her enough credit, reckoned that the wallflower was simply that, a wallflower who didn't stand out, but Robert knew better.

"So, what exactly are you trying to say here, Anthony," Fife asked with a bored intonation.

"I am saying that I don't like it when you take advantage of her virtue", Anthony explained angrily.

"Virtue? I only kiss-".

"And with that kiss you broke an important rule of engagement, I shouldn't be having to tell you that surely," Anthony interrupted before Robert could make an addition.

"The hypocrisy, once more I must note, is staggering, Anthony. Weren't you the one that got caught in the gardens of Aubrey Hall, practically suckling on Miss Kate Sharma's, now Mrs. Bridgerton's, breasts last year? Do you honestly expect me to believe the nonsense that there was a ' sudden swift engagement' between the two of you?."

Robert knew he had hit a sore spot by the look of Anthony's expression, as he seemed visibly upset.

"I thought she was going to.., she was bitten by a.. You wouldn't understand," Anthony stated shakenly. Robert thought he seemed out of it, and this was the first time he had seen the Viscount losing his composure. However, it was not long before Anthony again assumed his haughty posture as he now faced Robert sternly.

"I have no time to explain but I will say this. I did what I had to do, I did the right thing and married Kate. I am fortunate that I did marry her as I feel contentment in my marriage, but I would have done the same with any other lady I was found to be in a compromising situation with".

A moment of tension hung in the air as the two men locked eyes. They both held their gaze, refusing to break the silent challenge until Robert did.

"If you were expecting me to marry miss Featherington, why did you make her leave?", Robert wanted to know because if Anthony was so keen on codes of conduct then he should have urged him to marry him.

"That would have been the right thing to do, yes but in this case I feel somehow that it is not", Anthony replied.

Robert blinked in confusion, genuinely surprised by the statement.

"Why not if I may ask?", Robert inquired. He knew damn well it probably had to do with his current reputation in London of having illegitimate children, but the truth was, not one of them were his. Still, he wanted to see if Anthony had the balls to address him on this so hence the direct demand for an explanation.

Anthony didn't reply instantly but rather before he did.

"Because I feel there are others that might be more suited to marry her", Anthony stated evenly.

"Like whom? Colin? When he finally decides to get his head out of his-".

"You shut your l mouth about my brother!", Anthony warned as he pointed a finger at Robert.

"Our fathers may have been good friends, but I assure you I would have no qualms of knocking your teeth out at present", he continued menacingly.

"And as for Penelope, for future reference, you shall not seek her out. You will leave her alone. If I catch you behaving inappropriately next time, I will not be this lenient. I will call you out on your honour, in front of everyone."

Robert remained silent but stared sternly at the man in front of him.

"Is that clear?" asked Anthony. Robert wanted to say that Anthony could bugger off to off and that he wasn't a man that allowed others to determine what he should do.

However, he did realise he was in a precarious situation. If he denied Anthony's wishes, it would not be long before Anthony would undoubtedly inform his father and the last thing Robert wanted at the moment was interference from Fife Senior.

"Yes," he replied, with venom coursing through his voice.

"Perfect. Then I'll see you back in the ballroom or perhaps you might it suitable to make an early departure," Anthony suggested before turning and walking away, leaving Robert alone.

That damned Bridgerton. He once more was reminded that out of the three male offspring in that family, he only liked Benedict.

How dare Anthony interrupt him? Just when he had barely taken a taste of her sweet and lips. He ran his fingers over his, looking for something he couldn't describe, perhaps an impression of her on his lips but obviously couldn't find anything and until this irritated him.

He had kissed her and enjoyed it, which on the one hand he had expected but not the extent of Robert could not remember, in all his 33 years that he had enjoyed kissing someone so much, which was a sobering thought. On the other hand, he was more the 'let's skip the unnecessary and move on to what mattered' type of man, intercourse that is, and had had a lot to do with the notion up to now anyway but this had been completely different.

And it made him want more. You see, Anthony could tell he needed to leave Penelope alone. It was perhaps the noble thing to do but damn it, he didn't want to and if she were as affected as he was now... well then the Viscount could forget it. Because, if he knew one thing for sure was that Robert, wanted more, much more.

"You silly child!" reprimanded Portia. "We were so worried. Thankfully, the Viscount offered to look for you. Where have you been?".

"I am so sorry mother. On my way back from the ladies room, I saw that the door to the library was open and got distracted", Penelope fibbed.

In actuality the ladies room wasn't near the library at all.

"Typical, Penelope! Typical, I ought to remove every book from your room because it is quite clear that has become some sort of horrible... habit to you, all you do is bury your head in books", Portia complained.

"Mama, no! Please, I shall be more careful from now on and not wonder off. Please forgive me", Penelope pleaded.

"Pardon me for interjecting but it seems to me that no harm or foul was done here, Portia", Penelope heard, and she looked up to see Violet Bridgerton joining them.

" I believe it would a cruel punishment to take away Penelope's books, especially since she seemed to enjoy reading" Violet suggested. Good old Violet Bridgerton, Penelope thought

"Thank you, I will keep that in mind" Portia replied to a tad too briskly for Penelope's liking.

" Now" and Portia turned to her daughters "let's go home. Everyone has talked enough about us I would reckon" and Penelope could tell her mother was quite peeved that they had been the centre of (negative) attention.

Penelope and her mother and sisters started walking towards the door of the ballroom, as inconspicuously as possible. Thankfully, the orchestra had begun playing again once more and the exit was therefore a bit easier than she had expected but then, just as she was nearing the door, she saw him standing... in one of the corners of her ballroom, staring at her in a way she couldn't quite decipher. She avoided his gaze shortly after, but it felt like his eyes were following her throughout.

When they finally made it home and Penelope was in the circumference of her safe heaven, her bedroom she tried her best to sleep but could not, and in all honesty who could blame her. She had just had her first kiss and al she could do was replay the moment in her mind, when they both couldn't look away but this time there had been something inescapable and then he had bent over and kissed her.. Never in a million years had she expected to be kissed by Lord Fife.

There was always the hope that someone else would do this, someone, in the form of Colin Bridgerton but still it had not been him. Hope was different from reality however and the one who had first touched her lips was someone the opposite of Colin in that many things.

She was confused, still so confused. Why had he kissed her in the first place?

His lips had been soft, and he had been gentle as if he did not want to scare her, as if he wanted to put her at ease. He had not been coercive in any way but when he leaned in closer, she couldn't escape him, and it was at that moment she kissed him back.

And it had been a sweet moment. nothing wrong or inappropriate about it. Penelope realised one thing, that not the question had to be, why had he kissed her but more... why had she enjoyed it?

This confused her because wasn't she still in love with Colin? Right?

She closed her eyes stiffly in an attempt to sleep but all she thought about was tonight's kiss, replaying it over and over in her head and with each replay she found herself getting more flustered at the memory.

It took quite a while before Penelope finally fell asleep.

He had not expected his father's visit, so he was unpleasantly surprised when Fife Senior visited him a few days later after the ball.. Still, he did his best to seem enthusiastic.

"Father, what a fine surprise" lied Robert as he stood up.

"Sit down, please and join me" Robert stated with great difficulty, he had no desire for this meeting, and he was having such a nice breakfast before. It was not long before his father too enjoyed the exquisite poached eggs.

"Your cook is very talented, I might have to steal him from you," William Fife said with a sly smile.

"You must be mad if you think I'd allow that to happen. Not a chance old man" Robert said with a smile.

"We'll see..." William said and then made haste to consume the rest of his breakfast. When they got to the coffee afterwards, Robert decided not to bother.

"May I ask what the reason is for this spontaneous visit, Father? "Robert asked him innocently.

William blinked in faux confusion.

"Do I have to have a reason to visit my son?" he replied innocently.

"Of course not but it is peculiar considering our previous rapport of what.. two monthly? appointments. We saw each other just two weeks back so you must have a special reason, I presume." stated Robert evenly.

Something of hesitation and uncertainty flashed in Reginald eyes and that gave Robert the incentive to continue.

"Let me guess, Anthony Bridgerton has sent you a letter," Robert stated as he stared sternly at his father.

William said nothing but his face spoke volumes.

"That pompous idiot," Robert said, shaking his head.

"He did inform me of your questionable encounter with miss Featherington, if that is what you are referring to".

"There was nothing questionable about my encounter" bit Robert snapped, himself a little surprised at the intensity with which he had uttered the words.

"No need to get angry, Anthony no doubt meant well at informing me."

"No, he did not, he just wanted to tell on me like a petulant little boy" to which William sighed.

"Listen, I had more in common with Bridgerton senior. I find Anthony far too haughty, and I am not really a fan of him either, but I do think he has a point, Robert", William stated and then paused for a moment.

"However, the scandal would be great if people found out you comprised the Featherington girl, especially since we already don't have a best reputation", William continued.

I wonder who is responsible for said reputation Robert wanted to say but he bit his tongue last second.

"I did not compromise her, Father, I-".

"You did, Rober and you were lucky that Anthony saved your hide and didn't INSIST you marry her.".

" Anthony didn't save shite, father! There was nothing to save in the first place ", Robert countered feeling his irritation getting the best of him.

Fife senior sighed and shook his head.

"Look son, I get it, I do. The married women you usually engage with must bore you after a while but there are plenty of young girls to be found if you look hard.. enough," William said with a smirk.

Robert felt himself getting queasy after seeing his father's face, that opportunistic smile, that calculating demeanour. He recognised it in himself too, but it was the first time a sense of disgust was associated with it.

His father was referring to the barely 16-year-old girls, some just under sixteen in the brothels of London, selling themselves to make ends meet, to feed their families. The thought of a man in his sixties sleeping with them, it was disgusting.

Penelope was indeed still young too and there was a 10-year age difference between them, Penelope 18, and Robert 28 but it was different from what his father did.

At least to Robert it was.

"What are your intentions with miss Featherington?" suddenly William asked him directly.

His intentions? Well, if it was up to him a lot of driving himself inside her, over and over again, just until he was sated and she too, oops, apparently he was not so quite different from his father, he realised.

And yet... it didn't feel the same. Yes, he also had opportunistic motives but were they malicious ones? He couldn't say for sure now.

"Since you did not answer I assume she doesn't mean much to you, other than perhaps an enjoyable fling so to speak."

"Just be careful. We cannot afford a commotion and besides, that Portia Featherington wife is absolutely horrible. Imagine being acquainted to her for the rest of your life," William stressed sternly.

"Thank you Father for your concern. I will heed your words," lied Robert who had enough of William's presence.

William stared at him inquiringly, clearly doubting that statement, but refrained from proving Robert wrong.

"Very well, now if you will excuse me, I have an appointment with Lord Branley. He wants to work together and look at expansion. Would you care to join me?" asked William, with a twinge of hope spilling through in his voice.

"Unfortunately, no, I have to address other engagements today". It was once more a lie, perhaps one for good measure.

William seemed disappointed but he quickly steeled his face and pretended nothing was wrong.

"Then I still see you next time", William smiled. HE stood up and extended a hand to Robert, which he shook and then left, leaving Robert to ponder alone.

And he did so for an hour or two until someone knocked on the door.

"Come in" shouted Fife. It was his butler bringing him the latest edition of Lady Whistledown's, something he secretly looked forward to every time.

He supposed that he enjoyed Lady Whistledown ragging into his contemporaries, seeing her making fun of the 'ton', even though he was also among those she mocked.

He had been mentioned a couple of times too, but he could not deny that what she had written about him was not true.

Robert had now been an enthusiastic in his endeavours, rake and he could not help smiling when she ranted about him. For the last few editions, however, she had stopped talking about him to his disappointment. There was a paragraph dedicated to the Carlyle ball though:

"Alas, Miss Carlyle did not find her match at her own ball either. I cannot decide if I find Miss Carlyle to be sensible or perhaps rather too fussy in her endeavours, at this point.

The event was lovely, I am told, apart from the fact that the youngest Miss Featherington, was absent for some time and could not be found. In case you were expecting a scandal dearest Reader, I must disappoint you. Rumour has it that Miss Featherington had lost track of time in a library. Could she be any more boring, I wonder? Her only redeeming feature is that she sans the ugly yellow dresses looks slightly better than usual with the emphasis on 'slightly'."

Robert frowned on reading these words. It was not the first time Lady Whistledown had targeted Penelope and he did not understand why.

This time, the little gossip sheet had a less fine impression on him, in fact it caused him to get into a foul mood. In the process, he also remembered Anthony's actions and that only made things worse.

It was fairly early to drink but he felt like it. Yet he didn't want to do that at home, something told him to go outside, even though it looked pretty cold today, from the look of his window.

Robert had heard that a new gentleman's club had been opened by Will Mondrich, a friend or the Duke of Hastings, aka Simon Basset. Fife did not know Simon well, but the latter had always been cordial whenever they had encountered each other.

Robert decided to give it a go and soon he was on his way to Mondrich's gentlemen's club. It took him a while to get there, the club was, to his surprise, located in one of the industrial hubs of the city, in this region, he knew, there were many newspaper and book publishers in addition to factories.

Arriving at the club, he was kindly welcomed by Mondrich and his wife. Not long after, he saw Sir Cransworth and Sir Blake, not exactly his friends but not enemies either and they had invited him to join them.

Miraculously Robert enjoyed the evening and his foul mood disappeared. It was getting late though, past midnight and he still had quite a way to travel back.

He parted with Sir Cransworth and Blake and went outside, there he cursed himself for not asking his coachman to wait for him, for where was he to find a carriage now, in this part of town?

"Are you in need of a ride home, Lord Fife?" Mondrich asked and Robert turned to face him.

"Um yes, I am actually. So foolish of me, I forgot to ask my coachman to wait".

"No problem, Lord Fife. I will send for a friend of mine, and he will take you to your house, if you have a moment's patience" said Will.

"I am sorry to trouble you Mr Mondrich, but I would be very grateful if you would".

Will smiled and nodded. A few minutes later, a carriage stopped in front of Mondrich's club door.

"Thank you very much. I'll be sure to tell my friends about the excellent hospitality I received at your establishment, and I shall urge them to visit. ".

"I would appreciate that Lord Fife" said Will kindly and then said hello to Robert as the latter got into the carriage.

The journey back was without issues, Robert had had a little too much to drink, he realised, and the precursors of a massive hangover were already slowly beginning to form. He rested his head against the side and closed his eyes for a moment.

When he opened them he saw... another carriage pass them and in that split second he saw something he probably shouldn't have seen. Oh, it was probably meant to be hidden under the hood of the cloak, but it was unmistakenly there, a red lock of hair, which he recognised because there was only one person around him who had that kind of hair colour. He looked again but the person, of small stature he saw, sitting in the carriage pulled her cloak slightly more towards her so that a second, more inquisitive look was denied and before he knew it she had disappeared from his field of vision.

Was that... no it couldn't be. Penelope? The alcohol had to be playing tricks on him for what would it be doing here at this hour? And in this part of London, where the factories and the ... publishing houses were.

The realisation struck him like thunder suddenly and overwhelmed him. He had always suspected that there was more to the demure wallflower that although at first she seemed to indeed be a wallflower, he would see her peer around in an observant manner. Taking things in. He had caught her doing so on several occasions, as if she were listening, and sometimes he would see her develop a slightly sinister but knowing smile, only to quickly camouflage it again with her usual nonchalant behaviour.

But how? How did she arrange to hand in her stories twice a week, under the watchful eye of Portia? How did she manage to sneak out of the building? She had to have an accomplice in the form of a butler or servant.

Even then, the risk was high. Doubt began to strike him as he understood how realistic the chances were that Penelope could be Lady Whistledown. Theoretically, of course, she could be, and the notion was actually brilliant because no one of the 'ton' would ever suspect her.

However, there was a difference between theory and practice and that made him doubt it. Anyway... he would do his best to find out the truth, Robert was nothing but tenacious after all.

At the publishing house, Penelope stepped out in a hurry, quickly handed in her copy to address Matthews, her servant, on her return.

"Matthews... this is the second time you have been late," Penelope said in a hurried manner.

" I am sorry miss Penelope; I was delayed at the house; your sister requested more wood for the fireplace ".

"It's alright Matthews but please be earlier next time. We were already far too late tonight. You know how important it is that no one knows who I am. I got a bad feeling just now. Someone in the carriages passing us seemed to be watching me".

"Chances are slim that anyone will recognise you, miss Penelope but let them leave and go to us quickly".

Penelope nodded and entered the carriage. Perhaps Matthews had a point, the chances that she had been recognised were close to nil because what would the members of the 'ton' be doing in this part of town, at this hour, far from the usual clubs, theatres, museums they frequented... but then why didn't she feel reassured.

A few weeks later

"Dearest gentle reader.

I never thought I would write about him again but here I am, to my shock. This author was certain she would never hear about the person in question, especially since they have been absent for quite some time now and London is a marvellous city but not a forgiving one.

But let me no longer keep you in suspense, out with it, I say.

Lord Berbrooke is organising a Christmas ball. Yes, dearest reader yes that Lord Berbrooke you know, the one who left town a year or two ago with all haste, tail between his legs. Now it so happens that his uncle Earl Berbrooke died recently. Since the Earl had no descendants you can already guess who will bear the new, noble title. Loose tongues will say that he has not earned this title, I will not comment on that. But I can say that with this ball, the new Earl Berbrooke wants to make a triumphant return to grand society. We shall see if he will succeed, I have my grave doubts, but we will see.".

Robert did not want to go. He had had his fill of insipid balls but, on the other hand, he felt like he couldn't refuse the invitation either. Especially since the slimy git was now elevated to Count and that could only be beneficial, even for a possible partnership but he inwardly detested the man. There had always been something slimy about the man, a ready case of an overgrown Napoleon complex, Robert imagined that it would only be worse now but... he had heard some rumours that Nigel was eager to invest among his former acquaintances, to get back into their good graces after all.

So, he trotted meekly to the new mansion, the money squandering had begun early Robert concluded, from Nigel with a chagrined look, though he seemed to be doing his best to hide that.

In the hall, Nigel and his wife were waiting for guests.

"Fife! So good of you to come" Nigel said with an arrogant, condescending smile and Robert suddenly felt much like punching said smile away.

"Good to see you too, Nigel. My congratulations on both the wedding as becoming the new Earl of Westbrook".

"Thank you" Nigel replied complacently.

"May I introduce you to my dearest wife Ethel?" and Nigel turned to face his spouse.

Ethel Berbrooke was small in stature and had mahogany brown, curly hair that framed her face. He could see that an attempt had been made to tame the thick hair, but the result was messy, the curls not carefully groomed to perfection. On sight, Ethel looked many years older than Nigel, which was later contradicted when Robert picked up in the murmur that there was only two years difference between the two. She also had a drab-looking complexion and beady eyes, otherwise he could not describe. Ethel had a dark blue, almost black-looking frumpy dress that did her look no favours and only exacerbated the chagrin expression on her face.

"It is lovely to make your acquaintance" lied Robert as he bent down to kiss Ethel's hand that had taken him from head to toe just before.

"Likewise, Lord...?

"Fife, dearest. Robert is an old friend of mine," Nigel complemented.

Not really, Fife thought but it was probably rude to object.

"Well, do go in and enjoy yourself, Robert. If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask. I brought some grade A quality cigars from my uncle's residence in Kent, do let me know when you're keen on enjoying one together later this evening", Nigel suggested.

"That sounds enticing, Nigel. I might take you on that offer", Robert replied with a fake smile.

He probably wouldn't as he didn't want to suck up to Nigel anyway, he had just decided, business opportunity be damned. The last few minutes in his company had already been enough torment.

Robert entered the ballroom and was immediately approached by a servant with a glass of champagne. Hhm, service was at least on point. He looked around the room and saw that the Christmas motto had been implemented everywhere. Red, green, and gold ribbons and bows adorned the room and in the centre of the hall was a rather large Christmas tree, also tastefully decorated Robert had to admit, under the tree there were numerous presents/ party favours.

It was clear that Nigel wanted to make a good impression tonight.

The usual suspects of the ton were present, the Cowper's, the Carlyle's, the Millers and to his great surprise... the Bridgerton's, although Anthony did not seem at all happy to be here.

"I can't believe you talked us into coming, Mother," Anthony seethed.

"We were given an invitation dear, and so were you", Violet countered calmly.

"I know but we could have refused. I have no interest in spending an evening with that pompous blob".

"I understand Anthony but the whole of London is here tonight. Might I remind you that there will be few more balls this winter and that events like this are the best opportunity to find a suitor. Don't forget that you have two sisters of marriageable age," Violet argued.

"Well, I do not see Eloise getting married anytime soon, mother." Anthony stated.

"I know but what about Francesca, who has debuted this season?" Violet asked.

Robert did not catch the rest of the conversation between mother and son as he had been standing by the table of refreshments for too long as it was and retreated. Anthony's eye caught Robert by chance and he stared at him warily, but Robert didn't care at all. Instead, he warmly greeted Violet from a distance, not paying Anthony any mind and walked away.

Robert said hello to some friends and to the Cowper's, the latter a little more casually, Miss Cowper in particular always had a habit of getting a little too close to him, which he did not appreciate. There was something about her that displeased him, she was a beautiful woman on the outside, but he suspected she was not so beautiful on the inside. There was something snide about her, Robert had caught her several times making fun of the clothes of ladies less well-endowed than herself. He did not like it, so this time he made a quick exit, avoiding Lady Cowper's disappointed gaze..

He took a seat in the corner near some acquaintances and sipped his champagne. Bored, he was already bored. Robert didn't really understand why he felt the need to attend these balls every time, he hoped this would be the last one for a while. There were better ways to spend his time than with people who could only talk about the same things, their wealth, or the latest debutante. He sighed and just as he was preparing to leave with an excuse, he saw her enter.

Most of the guests had already arrived, so Robert had not expected her, but there she was, as always, along with her sisters and mother. She was wearing a light green dress with gold threaded elements, and one side she wore a golden coloured hairpiece, clip which had the shape of a sun.

The colour of her dress accentuated her porcelain skin, and whether he liked it or not, his eyes were drawn to her cleavage, to the prominent breasts that stood out in the foreground.

She was beautiful, he could conclude nothing else. It was obvious that he was not the only one who had noticed the change, for many a man now looked at Penelope, he saw to the dismay of the female company. He saw Miss Cowper's sour face and almost laughed.

The Featherington's quickly mingled with the audience, and he soon saw Penelope disappear from his view. He had expected the orchestra to resume playing, but instead he saw Nigel standing with them, obviously about to say something.

"Dear guests, welcome again this evening. It is good to see you all again. I hope you enjoy yourselves. If you have looked, you will find some presents under the Christmas tree, I have taken the liberty of making sure there is a present for everyone. So, before you leave tonight, please check the tree. Please join me now raising your glass in a toast' Nigel said and the crowd followed suit.

"To the renewal of our friendship," Nigel stated.

After that little interruption, the ball was in full swing. Robert knew it was the unwritten rule that he would dance, and he saw many a girl, including her mother, looking at him somewhat pleadingly, but he did not feel like dancing, at least not with them.

"Not enjoying yourself, Robert?" and he instinctively recognised Nigel's slimy voice and turned to him.

"On the contrary, Nigel. I'm having the time of my life," but at that moment his eyes fell on Sir Cransworth, who was standing next to Penelope, no doubt to ask her to dance. Robert didn't know why, but it irritated him considerably, partly because he knew that these gentlemen had never REALLY noticed Penelope before, but Robert had. He had noticed her before.

He could tell that she didn't really honour the request, but she said politely that she would.

"Your champagne is excellent Nigel," Robert said as he sipped and drained the last of it.

"Thank you."

"I think I shall get a refill," Robert said, using that as an excuse to leave.

His boredom did not improve as the evening wore on. He saw Penelope dancing with Sir Cransworth and him continuously staring at her breasts which annoyed him. He did it in a subtle way, but it was visible to Robert. HE could see that it also annoyed Colin Bridgerton, who had no right to speak at all he thought because he saw the dunce talking genially to Sir Carlyle and his daughter.

Penelope walked back to her sisters and mother. Her sisters had another equally displeased look on their faces that they found difficult to hide, which was amusing.

"Lord Fife" he heard someone say and his someone was drawn to Lady Cowper

"I see you have not danced to date, should you be interested, my daughter is still available."

Robert blinked a few times before he got the message.

"Certainly, miss Cowper. Would you do me the honour?" he said kindly. Miss Cowper smiled sufficiently and then held out her hand to him.

As they danced, he felt eyes burning on him. A stare. It took a while before he could identify who the stare came from until he saw Penelope looking at him in the crowd. She averted her eyes, but he could see that she looked hurt, well it looked like... jealousy.

He saw her walk away shortly afterwards, easily avoiding her mother and sisters as she did. Something told him to go after her.

The moment the dance ended he hurriedly said goodbye and walked away in the same direction. Not that he was afraid of the twat, but he glanced around to see where Anthony Bridgerton was. The latter was too busy whispering sweet words in his wife's ear, which made her blush. Anthony didn't notice him leaving.

He walked down two corridors, somehow relying on his feelings, and then took a sharp turn to the right. He saw one of the doors close and Robert knew she must be in there.

As he opened the door he saw two things, that the room was a library and her standing in the distance with her hands at her sides and her head downwards.

Damn, thought Penelope, if it hadn't been bad enough to see Colin doing love eyes with Melinda again now Lord Fife Cressida too?

Somehow now though she found the latter much worse than the first.

The door opened and closed, and Penelope turned with a jerk and saw him standing there, speak of the devil.

She was unable to speak for a long moment and stared at him with shock.

"You shouldn't be here, If, if we.. we get caught again it will be over for us.".

"We won't" said Robert and he turned to lock the door and then back to her. The door was locked, oh God the door was locked, and she was now actively alone with him without anyone being able to come in. There was a silence between him as if both were unsure what to say. There was tension in the air, and it seemed to be increasing by the second.

" I don't like Cressida", he finally said, in an almost whispering manner. There was something smooth and silky about the way he had spoken the words that she found hard to ignore.

"I don't care if you or do not" lied Penelope.

Robert smiled in a knowing way.

"Oh, you do, I am sure you do. Anyway... we meet again. How have you been since... last time" and it was the way he had pronounced 'last time' that made it clear to her which memory he was referring to, but she said nothing about it.

"Well, thank you" she replied briefly without asking him how he was doing.

"I noticed" he said as he narrowed the distance between her and me and walked a few steps forward "that we don't actually know each other that well".

That was a statement that surprised her a little.

"Excuse me?

"We have had conversations, but I don't know what your hobbies are, for instance."

"Why do you want to know? "asked Penelope. "I can guarantee that what I do in my spare time is not very exciting.

"Do enlighten me," smiled Robert.

Apparently he was insistent. Penelope swallowed a few times to compose her nerves.

"I like spending time with my family", (blatant lie) "and reading", she replied.

"Oh, I see, do you have preferences for a genre?".

"Not particularly... no but again why do you want to-"

"And writing? Do you write yourself too? "Robert interrupted her.

"I do not write" she said but the sweat was breaking out on her, and she felt them even more flustered by the fact that he had moved even closer and was now standing in front of her.

"Pity, somehow thinking you would make a good writer. ", he stated earnestly, examining her once more.

"And perhaps one who could keep minds busy, one whose publications are awaited with trepidation every week."

"I have no idea what you mean."

"Once again I feel you do but it's alright. You can lie to me if you want".

She didn't know when he had come so close, but he was. Close. Too close.

"However," he said softly and again with that intonation, silk and smooth once more "if you tell me your secrets, I'll tell you mine, Penelope".

She didn't reply. A feeling of recognition returned within them as they stood the way the way before and again something seemed like it would crack or bend.

"Let me take the lead and tell you more ...", he spoke slowly enunciating the words slowly.

" You might think I am horrible for what I am about to confess. You asked about my intentions in our earlier conversations, and I will be honest they were not honourable. Not at all, in fact, all I wanted to do is take you to my bed and ruin you, because you seemed so innocent, so pristine and I thought it would be a lovely challenge. ".

She was planning to move backwards, clearly shocked at his words but he stopped her by putting his arm on her lower back and giving her a push, which meant that she nearly was positioned in his arms, staring at his chest rather than at him.

"I am not finished. I soon realised though that I was fooling myself into thinking my earlier intent was still valid as I felt myself more drawn to you every time. I tried to ignore the feeling, but I couldn't and then I kissed you and it all made sense, all made sense to me. "

And since I am confessing", he took a deep breath "I must say that you look absolutely gorgeous tonight and also... that I am dying to kiss you".

She kept on at this and... there was a mutual unspoken understanding, a permission of some sort, a joint decision and his lips descended to hers.

And there it was. A culmination of everything and anything, of weeks and months of unspoken feelings and desire had led again to this moment. He kissed her slowly but deeply, with little intervals, it was kiss, remove lips and then kiss again, he felt like he needed to 'go slow' as to not scare her.

Despite good intentions he lost his control after the third kiss and it was then that he pushed her closer to him, against his chest and started to ravish her. It was maddening, it was as if he could not get enough of her sweet lips, he kept on kissing her and she kissed him back, just like last time a little unsure but evidently.

Kissing wasn't enough for him enough, he needed to feel her. His arms who were resting on her lower back started to climb upwards and she shivered as his touch become more adamant. Just as his hands were at his sides below her chest and wishing to upwards they heard a deafening scream.

"PENELOPE FEATHERINGTON!"

They both retreated at the same time and saw standing there before them Portia, Prudence, Phillippa, Lady Bridgerton and the Viscount & Viscountess, and the evening's host, Nigel Berbrooke.

******

The rest of the evening was a blur. Unknown to them, the library apparently also had another entrance. Unknown to them, they had not heard that there had been attempts to open the door.

Unknown to them was that Penelope's absence had again been noticed and with Anthony, also Robert's and they went looking for them.

Portia was besides herself and demanded marriage.

"What?" was all Robert could say.

"You have disgraced her. A marriage must take place and swiftly too," she said firmly.

Marriage? They couldn't be serious right, if he had to marry everyone he kissed he would have been married thirty times already.

"You have no other choice, Lord Fife. If I were I would quickly apply for a marriage licence," Anthony said.

And Robert could only stare at the Viscount.

****

Penelope still felt completely lost for a few days and it would only get worse, this feeling of not knowing at all what was going on because a second later Colin stormed in.

She was alone as her mother was off to the Bridgerton's to discuss the nuptials as she wanted to know what kind of fabric was used for Daphne's wedding dress. Portia was so overjoyed with the prospect of a marriage happening soon, she didn't even ask the bride to be to come with.

AS for Philippa and Prudence, they had fled the strange atmosphere in the house and gone to Marina, their cousin in Kent.

And there suddenly stood Colin Bridgerton in front of her, out of breath, as if he had been running....

"Colin. " she said as she stood up. He walked on in her direction.

"Penelope... forgive me for barging in like this but it... just hit me."

She looked at him, not understanding..

"I realised. I realised something just now, when I saw her mother discussing your wedding with my mother is that I didn't like the conversation and first I didn't understand why I didn't but then I did. And the reason is Penelope, is not that I to hear about your wedding but it is because your wedding that you are going to partake in is... contains a groom... that... that is not me."

Her heart could stop beating at any moment.

"I realised just now " he said, still breathing heavily "that I was so foolish and blind, Penelope because... it is you that I want, Not Melinda or anyone else. You have been there for me all these years and I; I am so sorry that I didn't see it before."

"What are you trying to say, Colin?" she asked as her voice trembled.

Colin took a deep breath and smiled and then shook his head. Colin then proceeded to walk over her and put her hand in his.

"I am saying that I finally realised that I love you and I want you to marry me not him. He played games with you I am sure, to manipulate you and that's the only reason you were found with him. Don't marry him just because you have to.... I know I made mistakes, but I will make up for it if you let me. I, I said horrible things to you that you are a friend, but you do Penelope. I understand now that you do. So please think about it, just consider alright. Please".

She did not know why she had done it, but she had nodded as a response.

Not long after, Colin left but she did not have much time to recover because in the room stood her fiancé, Lord Fife, my god it was bizarre to have him call him her fiancé even though they had not yet made an official announcement towards the 'ton' instead of letting the bomb burst.

It had seemed better to Robert nom at the next event, unfortunately another ball, to start announcing things. For him, that felt better because he had some time to put his 'affairs' in good order, both business and private AND inform his father the news but for Penelope, it felt like he didn't want to share the news and he was embarrassed for her.

"Did I see Colin Bridgerton leave just now?" he asked, his expression not amused at all.

"Yes... yes he was here", Penelope admitted.

"I assume he was here to see you" to which Penlope nodded.

"And what did he want pray tell?."

How could she explain it to him? How?

"Let me guess, since you are silent and refuse to answer, he has some sort of epiphany and realises he loves you, am I right?"

Her face spoke volumes.

"And let me guess, he told you to marry him not me? To reconsider".

She nodded as she stared her to feet.

"What was your answer to this preposition?".

Silence.

"Allow me to ask again. What. DID. YOU. SAY, Penelope?" he asked slightly more insistently now.

His face was full of disbelief.

"You are considering his offer... aren't you? Will you... will you look at me, Penelope? Have the decency to look at me "and she did but barely.

"Just tell me the truth".

She felt horrible, just very confused because this wedding it wasn't supposed to be with Robert, it was supposed to be with Colin but now everything seemed a mess. Her heart told her one thing and then another, her mind had already given up.

"It is just that I feel confused. Things happened so quickly, all of the sudden and I need time to think".

"Do you know?" he asked sarcastically.

"Yes, I do," she replied annoyed.

" Well that is just brilliant, truly because I don't understand. We kissed. Twice and the last time, we got caught and-"

"Yes, that is exactly why this wedding is taking place isn't it? You don't need to remind me because if we hadn't got caught you wouldn't even THINK about the possibility. Didn't you admit to saying you only wanted to ruin you and that was all?"

"That was in the beginning, I told you that things changed and I just... I_"

" Just stop. I don't believe you at all. You are lying to yourself or to me, I don't know which is worse".

"Do not make the assumption that you know I feel", he stated grimly.

"I will because it seems you're ashamed of having to marry me, wanting to postpone the announcement".

"That has nothing to do with anything, I asked you for time to get my affairs in order and-"

"Affairs. What a fitting word. All of London knows of your affairs, of your unwanted children".

She could tell they were going too far by the way he looked at her.

An awkward silence filled the room.

"You know what... Let me make it easy, take away your confusion.... Just accept Colin's offer... I am sure he will make you happy. I'm sorry if I came between you but looking at it this way, it seems to have worked out for the best because you finally have what you want. I wish you lots of happiness together ".

He paused for a moment before continuing.

"Goodbye."

HE looked at her once more and then pivoted to walk away. Arriving at the door, he suddenly stopped and turned to face her for a moment.

"And oh, I would appreciate it if you don't write about me anymore, Lady Whistledown".

A second later, it seemed, he had left, and Penelope was alone again, except for the chaos around her that kept her company.  

Chapter Text

A FEW WEEKS LATER

It was not his habit to sulk and yet he did it and he hated himself for it. Normally, he would have long since scraped himself back together, dismissed the issue and got on with living his life again. But something prevented him from going on this time. He heaved a sigh and took just another sip of his whiskey.

His new butler Matthews came in, the old one having retired, and he eyed the content of the bottle of whiskey with concern but then tried to act nonchalant.

"Lunch will be ready soon, Sir".

"Thank you Matthews but I'm not hungry" Robert said, and it was also true, he had lost his appetite, at least for today.

"Sir" Matthews began cautiously, " if I may be so bold, that doesn't seem wise considering you have been consuming alcohol on an almost empty stomach for some time. I would advise you to eat something".

Robert felt annoyed at the butler's forwardness and intended to put him in his place but saw genuine concern in Matthews and he decided, for now, not to say anything about it.

"Fine, Matthews. Just send two sandwiches, which would be sufficient for now", Robert relented.

Matthews looked relieved and not much later he brought in the sandwiches and set them on the coffee table. Robert thanked him and then painstakingly took a few bites, which he should not have done. His stomach protested violently, and it wasn't long before he was retching and feeling absolutely terrible.

He then decided to take a walk and hoped the chilly air would make him feel better.

*****

It was fine. Everything was fine. Her mother was overjoyed and the same seemed to be true of Eloise who happily declared to her that "Penelope had always belonged to the family but it "was now official".

In turn, Penelope had hugged her and said she "would love nothing more".

And that was true, somewhere... somewhere Penelope wanted nothing more than to belong to the Bridgerton’s, to be Colin's wife because that was her dream right? To marry Colin and now it was coming true. Five years ago, the moved next door to the Bridgerton’s. They had moved to a better neighbourhood in London, her mother pleased that they could now socialise with a "higher-end group of people". What exactly her mother meant by this, Penelope did not know once but Portia was delighted to receive an invitation from Lady Bridgerton, her neighbour.

She had to smile at the memory of that day, how Portia had seen to it that everyone looked their best, much to her father's dismay.

"They are just people, just like us," her father had sighed after yet another rebuke to comb his hair a little better anyway.

"Just people,” Portia had scoffed. "Do you even know who Lady Bridgerton is?".

According to Portia the Bridgerton’s were a distinguished and beloved family in London and a welcome guest at balls. There were eight siblings, four daughters and four sons, and their names were in alphabetical order, she had heard. The eldest son, Anthony, after the premature death of their father, was now head of the household and he had thus inherited the title of Viscount at the age of eighteen.

"Viscount. Do you hear me? Listen, if we attempt this the right way, Archibald... who knows, Prudence... could be the future Viscountess!" exclaimed Portia excitedly.

Penelope really, really didn't think that would happen, at any rate and had to do her best not to burst out laughing.

"So, you better all be on your best behaviour... or else", she threatened.

Somewhat nervously the Featherington’s trotted to their neighbours house, carrying the most beautiful bouquet of flowers Penelope had ever seen but soon found that the nerves were for naught. Lady Bridgerton, or Violet, was very friendly and pleasant to talk to.

The youngest children Hyacinth and Gregory weren’t around to introduce themselves. The oldest Bridgerton Anthony greeted them politely but a tad aloof. Daphne was warm and kind towards them and she seemed to actually want to get to know them. As for Benedict, he was cordial and polite, asked a few questions and made small talk with their father.

And then there was a girl with brown hair and blue eyes, who looked at Penelope curiously and then walked towards her.

"Hi" the girl said with a smile. "I'm Eloise, what's your name?".

"Penelope" she replied.

"Nice to meet you, Penelope,” Eloise smiled.

"Likewise,.”

"Would you like to see my room?" asked Eloise next, casually.

"Sure, do you mean now?", Penelope wondered.

" Yes, come on", Eloise said and nodded her head towards the direction of the exit. They both wanted to get up but were interrupted.

"Oh, and this is my son Colin", she heard Violet say.

"Colin, these are our new neighbours, the Featherington’s. Lord Featherington, Portia, Prudence, Phillippa and ..Penelope" said Violet, glad that she had remembered the name of the youngest member last second.

"Pleased to meet you. How do you do?", she heard Colin say as he looked at all of them kindly.

Sincerely friendly, she thought. He was rather tall and looked like his brothers and, on the other hand, he did not. All three of them had brown hair that was casually coiffed and yet every sprite of hair seemed to belong exactly where they should. She could see the similarities, but Colin had dark blue eyes and a boyish charm to him, also a certain naughtiness it seemed, she could tell when he smiled, and he had done so twice anyway. She had been mesmerised both times.

"I look forward to getting to know you better," Colin earnestly stated. His gaze then fell on his brothers.

"I hate to depart and leave our guests, but didn’t we agree to do visit Simon today?,” Colin asked.

"Did we? I can’t reme... " began Benedict but he was interrupted.

The soft kick to Benedict shins, Anthony being the aggressor, was so quick that it went almost unnoticed, but Penelope had as she had a way of observing things that others did not see.

She also saw that Benedict was trying his best to suppress the twinge of pain he felt and was struggling to do so.

"Oh yes, correct. Simon, uhm. Silly of me to forget. Let's go" Benedict suggested with a grimace.

"I think it's time for us to take our leave as well" Archibald suggested suddenly, deliberately ignoring Portia's furious look. He then stood up and turned to Violet.

"Good to have met your acquaintance, Lady Bridgerton. Thank you for inviting us today," Archibald drawled.

"It was my pleasure", Violet replied as she rose from her, pastel coloured expensive looking, at least Penelope thought so, sofa.

"We would we delighted to have you visit us, Lady Bridgerton. It would be our honour. How about next Sunday, for brunch?" suggested Portia.

"Oh, that would be lovely, thank you" said Violet but something about her face told Penelope that she would rather be less inclined to visit them.

Eloise was not happy about the departure of her new friend to be, but Portia assured her that they would see each other again soon and she was right.

It was not long before Penelope was a frequent guest at the Bridgerton’s' house as soon she and Eloise were inseparable. One day, Penelope had gone to see her favourite people in the street again but had completely forgotten that the female delegation of the family had gone to the modiste. She was about to return home until she heard a voice and that voice... was from the very person she wanted to avoid for reasons she did not want to admit to herself.

"Pen?.”

She turned and saw him standing there at the top of the stairs. Colin, with short hair and a clean-shaven face. He was wearing a black coat, a white shirt with a high collar under his also white waistcoat and a silver tie that completed the look.

He looked dashingly handsome; she couldn’t help but conclude otherwise.

"Oh sorry. I hope you don't mind if I call you Pen. I hear Eloise say it so much," he smiled as he ventured downstairs.

"Oh ehm," Penelope said shyly, "you can call me Pen, it wouldn’t be.. an issue".

She suddenly felt warm and as if her face were turning as red as a tomato. She hoped he didn't notice but even if he did, he didn't show anything.

"Eloise is off to the modiste, reluctantly, I might add" he said with a smile as he stood in front of her.

"Yes, she mentioned it last week, but I forgot.. I- I was just about to go home," Penelope explained.

"You don't have to. If you want, you can wait in the drawing room, I suspect they'll be back soon", Colin suggested.

He could probably read her hesitation from her face and the following was no doubt meant as encouragement, but it did not feel that way.

"Pen, you are practically part of the furniture in this house since you are here so much. No one would have any issues with you waiting here".

Pen looked a little hurt at this, apparently she was coming over too much and it had been noticed.

"I don't mind, Pen. I like it when you come over" he had suddenly said to this to her surprise.

Penelope's eyes grew large on hearing this statement and her mouth fell open slightly.

"For one thing, we all have to spend less time with Eloise because of you", he continued quickly. It was meant as a joke, as a way of making light of the situation, trying to negate what he just said. Penelope completely understood the message.

"Come, let's go, I am starving and last I checked the butler had prepared my favourite sandwiches".

Penelope stared at him hesitantly but then went along anyway. In the drawing room, Colin feasted on several sandwiches and mini pastries. He wasn't kidding when he said he was hungry.

The butler poured them some tea and Penelope drank it with small sips because suddenly she felt that her throat felt very tight. They were alone now and regardless of the fact that Colin did not care about decorum, Penelope wondered what Violet would think.

Fortunately, not long after this thought, Hyacinth and Gregory stormed in, arguing.

"Gregory, stop annoying me or I'll smack you like I did the other day and you cried for 10 minutes," Hyacinth warned.

"Oh, please do and I'll tell mama everything", Gregory threatened.

"Guys" sighed Colin.

"Brother NO, I didn’t do anything. He's been bothering me all day, he can't stand me being taller than him," Hyacinth said.

Penelope had to do her best not to burst out laughing and from reading Colin's his face, he seemed to find it amusing too.

"That's not true at all!", Gregory cried out.

"It is, just look Colin!" and Hyacinth stood demonstratively next to her little brother. She was indeed a head taller than her older brother.

"Hyacinth, please you don't have to rub it in and Gregory, I hate to say it, but Hyacinth is indeed a bit taller than you are now."

Gregory looked quite miffed at this conclusion and Hyacinth had a smug look on her face.

"Now, stop arguing and instead grab some sandwiches and eat," Colin suggested.

The two conceded and grabbed some sandwiches from the tray before they sat but in passing Gregory, Colin whispered something in his ears that sounded like "boys have a growth spurt later than girls, you'll catch up with her" to which Gregory showed a relieved smile.

Granted, it was not quite diplomatic what Colin had done but he had settled the argument and Penelope was impressed and somehow, she felt a bit more at ease now. She even dared to take a bite of the delectable-looking pastry, which was a small cake with lemon meringue, it was absolutely delicious. She wished their cook could cook as well as the Bridgerton’s', usually their pastries didn't taste like anything at all, this might also have to do with the fact that in the Featherington home, they often skimped on everything and yes, that included sugar.

About five minutes later, Violet, Daphne, Francesca, and Eloise Bridgerton walked in. Penelope could see that Violet, despite knowing that Penelope often stopped by, was somewhat surprised to see her with Colin until she saw her two youngest offspring in the distance of the room.

"Penelope, welcome" greeted Violet warmly.

"I do hope we haven’t kept you waiting much".

"No, Lady Bridgerton, I have only just got here,” Penelope replied which was not quite true.

"Colin was kind enough to suggest that I would remain in the drawing room till you came back", she continued.

"I see" said Violet as she ran her eyes somewhat inquiringly towards her son, "that was a… good suggestion on his part.”

It was not long after this before Eloise rushed over to her Penelope and launched into a rant of how much she minded going to the modiste and pretending frilly dresses interested her.

In hindsight, Penelope reasoned, that day was the turning point for her. She had known since meeting him that she liked him, but 'liking' became something else entirely after that.

Penelope had struggled with her feelings for a long time, it was wrong, falling for your best friend's older brother but still she could no longer suppress it after that day. Yet nothing would change, as she was certain he just saw her just as a friend, which they were.

She and Colin had also developed a lovely friendship over the years and at balls he always seemed to seek her out. When he travelled, he would write her letters and then tell her about his adventures, the PG version of course. Penelope was not so innocent that she did not know that he had, part from enjoying beautiful ‘unspoilt nature’ also had sought out the company of beautiful women.

But like she said, they were friends and nothing more and she had no right to be bothered about him seeking the company of others.

She had a right now as his fiancé. Gosh, that sounded strange in her head, that word in correlation to Colin. It shouldn’t be because the Penelope of years ago would be ecstatic but current Penelope did not and she didn’t understand or didn’t want to admit why.

She should be happy that as soon as the engagement between her and Lord Fife was broken off, Colin had proposed but matter how many times she reasoned with herself that this was everything she wanted all those years, something inside of her told her that it wasn’t, not anymore and those thoughts weren’t easy to supress, not even by doing what she loved.

She had just failed the third attempt to read her book. She decided she needed to leave, to be alone, to clear her head. She grabbed her coat and was just about to go outside but she was caught at the last minute by her mother.

"And where are you going, unchaperoned, as well?" she heard her mother say behind her.

Penelope turned around with a sigh.

"Out, mama. I need fresh air", she declared.

"In this cold weather, do you wish to get ill or something?" to which Penelope sighed once more.

“I can assure you this coat and scarf are thick enough to uphold the iciness of outside” and she wasn’t lying, she had taken her precautions and wore several layers.

That comment placated Portia somewhat, but she was not convinced and there seemed to be something of concern experienced in her eyes now.

"Penelope, what's the matter? The last few days, you haven’t been much like yourself. Aren't you happy with how things turned out?", Portia asked with concern and at the same time, somewhat suspiciously.

"Of course I am, mother. I am elated but.. it’s just that everything happened so suddenly, and I have to get used to the new status quo, that's all. It will be fine, I assure but as the last few days have been busy with preparations, I find myself to be desperate for some solace, alone," she reasoned.

Portia seemed to process what her daughter had just confided, and it seemed she wanted to ask a question but refrained from doing so last second.

"You can't go out alone," Portia reprimanded.

"Why not? I am betrothed after all, am I not?" Penelope asked in annoyance.

"Yes but your fiancé isn't in the country at present and therefore it would be bad form if you would venture out alone. Rae shall accompany you".

"Mother, please, I don’t want-"

"Rae!", Portia called and not much later the maid, who always somehow looked a little anxious, came running towards the hall.

"Accompany Miss Penelope outside" and then Portia turned to Penelope, "you come back soon, you hear? Mr. Finch is coming to ask your sister for her hand this afternoon and I want you to be present".

She was in a foul mood as she entered the carriage with Rae but soon figured that it was not the maid's fault that she was not alone now. Rae was always kind to her and worked hard and Penelope didn't want to make her feel bad, so Penelope started a conversation with her. She genuinely liked Rae and it was nice to talk to her.

Arriving at Hyde Park, she saw that it was virtually deserted, which was excellent because the last thing she wanted was to run into people congratulating her. Cressida Cowper’s felicitation last week in the park had been extremely fake and vicious and she seemed to suggest that Colin wanted to marry her only out of pity to save her from scandal.

She walked on with Rae for a while but still requested her to stay behind after they passed a small bench and to take a seat there.

"Please Rae, do me a favour. I'll be back soon, I just need a few minutes to myself," she pleaded.

Rae hesitantly agreed and stayed behind, Penelope felt her eyes burning on her, but she didn't mind and stepped through. She now arrived at a spot dear to her, where few people came as it was further away where the ton usually tend to linger. For her it was a lovely place to sneak off to when her family wasn’t paying attention on the days Eloise wasn’t there to accompany her.

She arrived at the spot and just stood there, staring ahead at The Serpentine, as is she was in search of something she didn’t know, in total oblivion and unaware of the steps that approached her.

"I hoped to no longer run into you anymore but our paths cross again apparently.”

That voice. She knew whose it was but still it was hard to carry herself sideways to the one.

She finally did so but with great difficulty and bated breath.

"Hello Miss Featherington" he greeted, measuredly, as if saying the words one by one deliberately but at the same time.

"L.. Lord Fife, hello,” was all she could muster before forcing herself to converse the next moment.

"How are you, my Lord?", she then quickly added so as not to be rude.

"I am well thank you," he replied, once more somewhat aloof. They then said nothing for a moment and stood there in silence as if they were not so sure how to proceed next.

"I ehm believe congratulations are in order. You are to wed Mr Bridgerton, I am told".

She hadn't expected the words to have an effect on her. After all, he was only stating the truth but suddenly she felt so awful, as if her spirits were sinking to the bottom of The Serpentine.

"Yes, I am to be wed soon," she only confirmed.

"My congratulations, Miss Featherington. ", he stated earnestly, and it was that earnestness of his that triggered something in her, which hurt her, and she didn't understand why.

"Where is your betrothed now if I may ask? Why is he not accompanying you?" Robert then wanted to know, his eyebrows frowning slightly as he asked the question.

"One of his good friends abroad had an accident. He received word last week and decided to travel towards him and help in any way he can," Penelope explained.

"I see. How noble of him,” Robert declared, and Penelope detected some sarcastic element to the declaration but didn’t question it further.

"The wedding is postponed till he gets back," Penelope explained, for some inexplicable reason because she shouldn't bother him with such details, it was inappropriate, but he had asked about it right? Why Colin wasn't there.

Robert only nodded and then looked down briefly and then back at Penelope.

"Well, allow me to wish you much happiness together in advance. I hope your matrimony will be a joyous one. Good day, Miss Featherington" he said and with a pat to his head and a nod of his head he said goodbye to her and turned to walk away. However, he did not get far.

"I am deeply sorry.”

He turned to her and eyed her curiously.

"For what?", Robert asked, and he failed to remain unbothered this time as he had slightly raised his voice.

"I am deeply and truly sorry, for what I said that day, I never should have-" and she unintentionally began to shake her head as she failed to utter the last bit of her sentence.

"It's in the past, Miss Featherington. Don't worry about it" he stated after a few moments' pause.

"But I do worry about it, you see, I behaved so badly towards you".

Why did her voice begin to break, and her eyes fill with tears? What was the matter, she had to stay calm and not become a blubbering mess. Robert stared at the girl with compassion, no, no, he could not show weakness or feelings. All he wanted to do was to press the girl against him in a deep embrace, comfort her but he couldn't. He couldn't even though he realised now that he had actually missed her, these past few weeks, and that the broken engagement bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

"It's alright, Penelope. I forgive you" was all he could say, with soft intonation so she knew she meant it.

She nodded as she rubbed the tears away down her cheeks. When she calmed down a bit, he could see that she wanted to ask him a question but restrained herself.

"Is there something you want to ask me?" Robert asked to meet her halfway.

"How did you know that I was, that I am..."

"Lady Whistledown? I saw you a few weeks back on my way to the publishing house, it was a glimpse of you, I must admit but it was unmistakably you. Those... red locks, I would recognise them everywhere," he then continued, only to wish he hadn't said it.

Because the way she looked at him now... wondering, compassionately, sweetly, it did something to him and he just didn't want it to do anything.

"Also, I've seen several times how you stood in the corner of the ballroom, taking in the gossip. I always said that... there was more to you that others didn't see, didn't notice".

'But I did' he wanted to add but didn't.

"Yet the biggest, decisive clue that gave you away were your hands" Robert argued.

"My hands? " she asked in surprise.

He did not know what possessed him the next moment, but he had taken some steps towards her and grabbed both her hands. HIj then gently turned her right hand and unintentionally his fingers stroked her palm.

" It is the ink stains” and then he paused his comment.

“You try to wash them away, but you don't succeed, they remain".

He made the mistake of looking at her as he pronounced the last two words and soon she gazed back up at him.

And there was that damned feeling again, that attraction that was inescapable, the urge to her, the attraction or chemistry, whatever you want to call it. It forced them to stand still as they both seemed unable to catch their breath, waiting for the tipping point, which seemed to announce itself with steady strides.

"Penelope, I-", Robert began but then realised now the impropriety of the situation and forced himself to retreat, much to the disappointment of both of them.

"I will keep your secret; you don't have to fear me telling anyone. It is not my place to tell, and I wouldn’t want any harm to come to you. I do hope you take precautions so others might not come to the same conclusion as I did".

"I.. I appreciate that and I will.. take better precautions" she merely replied.

“Good. Well, we shouldn’t stay and linger together for much longer. We have been caught once before and that had profound consequences. We wouldn't that to happen again, wouldn't we?" Robert stated with a smile that seemed sad.

"I sincerely wish you all the best. As much as I dislike him, I know Colin is a decent guy and I am certain he will make you happy".

Penelope was not sure what to reply to this even though it would have been polite to thank him. Yet no words came up and a moment later, all she could do was watch him walk away. 

Chapter Text

It was not his intention to read the newspaper carefully. He was not really paying attention, but rather aimlessly leafing through it out of boredom. It was an unusually warm day in May, and it made him feel sluggish, bored, and uninspired to do anything. Robert had picked up the newspaper, forgetting that he had deliberately not opened it for the last few days so as not to come across what he thought he would see. It was a foolish move because a wave of irritation immediately washed over him when he read...

WEDDING ANNOUNCEMENT

‘Penelope Featherington and Colin Bridgerton will be married this Sunday, the 25th of May, at St. James’ Church. The joyous couple..."

He did not read any further.

When he regained the ability to think again, Robert concluded that he should be happy for her. It was clear that she had had feelings for him for several years, even though that idiot had not noticed. Robert could not understand how the man could have been so oblivious, and somehow that made his dislike for Colin even greater. He had already felt that way when, a summer or two ago, he had asked out of curiosity what exactly was going on between Colin and Penelope, and the former had replied, ‘I would never, ever court Penelope Featherington.’

He had never spoken to Penelope at the time, but somehow the answer had irritated him, and he didn't like that he had made that comment about the girl who stood miserably in a corner of the room at every ball, waiting for him to make a move, waiting for him while he danced with one attractive debutante after another.

Robert supposed that was when his resentment towards Colin had begun. Nevertheless, he could not help but admit that it was a good match. The Bridgerton’s were a nice, upstanding family. He was sure Penelope would be thrilled to be a part of said family. For her, it was a win-win situation; her honour was ‘saved,’ although there was not anything to save. He had already planned to do the honourable thing and marry her. But now Colin could play the knight in shining armour, and he hated that.

Robert threw the newspaper into a corner and stood up. Suddenly, the room felt even more stifling, and he had to leave. He stood up and stormed out of the room, racing past his confused butler.

‘Going out, Sir?’ Robert heard, but a few seconds later he was already out the door. He walked into Hyde Park but had completely forgotten that today was Sunday, also known as “Promenade Day,” as he mockingly called it. He thoroughly disliked this day because, despite his reputation, there was always a desperate mother with her young, impressionable daughter who would approach him and invite him to some insufferable soirée he had no interest in attending. He turned around to leave quickly, but unfortunately, he had already been spotted.

‘Fife! ‘He heard, and he turned back automatically.

‘It's been a while”’ said the man who came towards him.

Not long enough, thought Fife, because he had seen the man recently as he had encountered him in a gentleman’s club Robert rarely went to. Nigel being there was enough reason to never visit that establishment again.

‘Berbrooke, good to see you,’ Robert lied.

Rumour had it that Daphne Hastings, then Bridgerton had knocked out Nigel a few years ago when he got touchy-feely with her, which she did not appreciate. Nigel had walked around with a glorious black eye for weeks afterwards. Robert suspected that, given Nigel's despicable character, the incident had taken place and his respect for Daphne had grown, because this man was indeed extremely punchable.

‘Mrs. Berbrooke, how do you do?’ Robert asked politely to the sourpuss of a woman accompanying Nigel who looked at him half disapprovingly, half condescendingly, for whatever reason. Good Lord, these two people were a match made in heaven, Robert thought, both highly unpleasant people.

‘Thank you, I am well, and how are you, Sir Fife?’

‘I am well, thank you, ‘Robert replied, semi-politely.

‘Adelaide, dearest,’ Nigel began. He asked her to join Mrs. Bainbridge, her good ‘friend,’ who was sitting close them, and he pointed to that direction. Mrs. Berbrooke did not like that idea at all and looked suspiciously at her husband, but she did not oblige either. Nigel smiled after her, but when he turned back to Robert, the smile had disappeared and an insecure, anxious expression had surfaced on Nigel’s face.

“Um, Robert. I was wondering if you would be free to drop by for a visit this week. I have this twenty-year-old whiskey I am dying to open.”

The invitation upset Robert because he knew the invitation was certainly not made from kindness. There were rumours about Nigel again, this time that he did not have money, that the lavish parties he threw to restore his shaky reputation had had a negative effect on his finances and that he was squandering his father's inheritance. Robert was 100% sure that Nigel was going to ask him for a loan, would call upon his generosity and would ask to “help him out “as “that is what our kind (aka the nobility) do”.

The last thing he wanted was a meeting with this absolute annoyance for a human being. Robert had to think fast, luckily that was something at which he was good.

‘I'd love to, but I'm leaving for Somerset on Friday.,” Robert lied.

There were elements of truth and a falsehood in this statement. Robert had an old friend living in Somerset named Paul, whom he knew from Eton. It had been a while since they had seen each other, so perhaps it was a particularly clever idea to visit Paul again at short notice.

‘Oh, I didn't know you had family there,” Nigel asked, surprised.

‘I do not, but a good friend of mine lives there, ‘Robert replied with a brief smile.

‘I see. Will you be away for long?’ Nigel continued.

If I must avoid you, then yes, Robert thought.

‘That remains to be seen, but I suppose a few weeks at least.’

Nigel's face dropped and it was riddled with disappointment.

‘Of course. Well, I wish you a pleasant stay in Somerset in advance. It was nice to see you again. You have been absent at the balls, although I can quite understand why because...’

At that moment, Nigel's attention was caught by something in the distance, and he had stopped in the middle of his sentence. Intrigued, Robert turned around to see what had now caught Nigel's attention.

It was a colourful ensemble, and everyone was dressed to the nines, looking their Sunday best. First, he saw Anthony Bridgerton and his wife Kate. Anthony stiffened at the sight of Fife, even more than usual which seemed impossible as the man already was permanently walking around with a stick up his...

Anthony did address him but gruffly in passing, mentioning only his surname in the process. Nigel, he had completely ignored to the apparent dismay of Nigel. His wife Kate Bridgerton, elegantly dressed and charming as ever, nodded to him politely and smiled briefly at him. After Anthony, the matriarch of the family walked by who politely but uncomfortably addressed him. Her daughter Eloise did not seem to notice him; her look was one of dismay anyway and he suspected she had come reluctantly.

Finally, he saw her. She was wearing an elegant pastel blue dress of thin cotton, with a high waistline under her bust that gracefully emphasised her silhouette. The short cap sleeves and subtle, rounded neckline were decorated with delicate embroidery. The loose-fitting skirt had ruffles, and it made for a wavy movement when she walked. Her hair was put up tightly, neat, and not as he preferred to see her-wild and casual. Although the dress looked beautiful on her, she did not seem entirely comfortable with her tight hairstyle and more adult attire.

She stilled completely at the sight of him, and he could see that the shock took her breath away for a moment. She gasped, softly but he had heard her. And then they all just looked at each other for a moment, a second or two perhaps but long enough, until Colin urged her to walk on. He could tell that Colin was annoyed by the unnecessary delay in ending this awkward situation they were all in but tried not appearing so.

‘Fife’ said Colin, with exasperation in his voice.

‘Bridgerton,’ Robert replied, matching his energy. Penelope did not look at him now, flustered, and uncomfortable as she seemed, she only nodded in acknowledgement and walked off arm in arm with him. After that encounter Robert's mood was shot to hell and he could not have foreseen that he could now feel even more irritated. He decided there was one but thing that could take his mind off things and that was drinking and lots of drinking. There was only one gentleman's club that was already open at this time of the day and soon Robert sped off in a carriage, on route to that destination.

****

A couple of hours later, Robert was quite intoxicated but unfortunately not enough. The Fife's, unfortunately for him, had an innate talent for being extremely resistant to drink. Not conducive in Robert's case. It was a lot busier now than in the afternoon when he arrived and the establishment buzzed with clinking glasses, laughter and engaged conversation. In addition, a few gentlemen were playing cards, encouraged by pretty, loosely dressed ladies by their side.

Today, none of the could charm him and Robert tried his best to ignore the merry cheer, but he could not manage it. He decided then that he would have just one more drink and then go home.

‘Simon! How did you get in unnoticed? I should ban you from this club for that black eye you gave me!’ he heard someone exclaim. When he looked up, the Duke of Hastings and Will were locked in an embrace and then parted shortly after but were still standing in close distance.

‘Are you still mad that I beat you at boxing last time?’ the duke asked mockingly with a smile.

Will grinned., ‘You? Beating me? Never. You only took advantage of the fact that I was feeling unwell that day and that gave you the advantage to strike.’

Simon shook his head and pointed at Will.

‘You, my friend are a very, very sore loser’ to which Will laughed. The two exchanged a few more pleasantries before Simon sat down and ordered a brandy and Robert went back to ignoring them. Or so he thought.

‘Robert!’ He looked up and saw Simon staring at him.

‘Hastings.’

Robert had forgotten that Simon hated his father's name horribly and tried to correct himself.

‘I mean, your Grace. Good to see you.’

He stood up to begrudgingly shake Simon's hand. Begrudgingly because while Simon was a good fellow but had no interest in social niceties at this time.

‘Do you mind if I join you?’ Simon inquired.

Well, yes, I do mind, Robert thought but the man was a Duke, and it would be rude to ignore him. They sat back down, and the polite, social niceties took off. Fife asked about how Lady Danbury, Simon's aunt was and how the Duchess and the children were doing. Simon asked how his father was doing. Robert then made the clumsy mistake of asking (he was not as clear minded as he thought after all) what Simon was doing in London when he already knew the answer. It was an inconvenient question because his drinking buddy for the night, did not immediately respond.

‘Sorry, how could I forget. Colin's wedding,' Robert stated, feeling slightly embarrassed.

‘Correct... yes’ Simon replied, nodding, a little uncomfortably. The conversation seemed to go nowhere after that and both men seemed only wise to just take the drink on the table, but the atmosphere was becoming unbearable, and it seemed best for Robert to address the elephant in the room.

‘I suspect you know about...’

Simon nodded before Robert could even finish the sentence.

“Unfortunately, news travels far. I was under the impression you were going to marry miss Featherington?”

“I was but we parted ways.”

“That is a shame,” Simon noted, as he looked at Robert inquiringly and then a long silence occurred between them, prompting Robert to take his leave.

“It was nice to run into you. Please give my congratulations to the happy couple.” The last part of that sentence was uttered through gritted teeth.

‘” Is that a genuine congratulations you want to relay??’ Simon expressed in a disbelieving tone.

‘What does that supposed to mean?’ Robert wanted to know.

‘I only asked. Never mind” and Simond made a waving gesture that it was inconsequential. It irritated Robert, “have a good night, Fife.”

Oh no this wouldn’t do. Robert would not stand for this.

“Out with it. What do you want to say?”

Simon raised his hand in protest.

“I am just expressing that I don’t think your well wishes are genuine. That is because you might still have feelings for the girl.”

What the hell? This day could not get worse.

‘Listen here, Hastings,” Robert aggravatedly stated “. I do not know what you are getting at but let me put your mind to rest. My liaison with miss Featherington is in the past. Although I cannot say that I am fond of Colin, I am certain that he will be a good husband will be for Penelope. I mean miss Featherington. I hope they will be incredibly happy together and I mean that.”  

Hearing the slip of the tongue, Simon smiled subtly but soon let nothing show. He then paused for a brief period before speaking again.

“I, unlike you am fond of Colin. Quite fond to be exact. He and my wife Daphne are close. He is a fine, lovely, young man. That being said,’ I am honestly a bit worried about this upcoming commitment. It is all happening quickly. I think they may be making a mistake if I am honest. I am a bit uncertain that he is in love with her and confuses friendship with love. Still views her as a friend and in a misguided sense of saviourism, thinks he is doing what she should be doing. I do not know if it is though and I feel like I am not the only one. There is a strange sensation in the house and everyone feels it, it is not as joyous. For one, Miss Featherington does not look at all like a blushing bride to be but very much absorbed in her thoughts.’

Robert had to let these last words sink in.

‘I am sorry to hear that, but it is none of my business, Simon. I am not sure what you thought I would do with this information. I suspect you have my best interest at heart but to be honest, I am not sure why.”

Simon paused for a while before resuming to speak.

“I think you have forgotten something I haven’t. I... I still remember the kindness you showed me. When we were both at Eton and my father died, you were one of the first to reach out to me, even came to the funeral. We were not close like you astutely pointed but you listened to my rambling at school. I was broken. Confused. I hated the man’s guts. I told that to his face that I would not continue his precious bloodline and yet I was still sad, grieving something I never had. I rambled on and on and you talked. I find out we had a lot in common. Both had emotionally cold fathers we never were good enough for.”

“It is more than a decade late but nonetheless, thank you Robert,” Simon said as he raised his glass. Robert reached for his and emulated the gesture, answering sincerely that Simon was most welcome. After that, the two talked about their memories of Eton and the mood was so much lighter. They laughed as they recalled teachers and the mischievous things they had done as pupils and at the end of the night, somehow Robert felt a little better.

***********

It was fine. Everything was fine. Everything was going to be fine. This is what she always wanted right? She wanted this for years. Right? TOCH?

Then why was it barely possible for her to breathe. Then why couldn't she sleep at night?

‘Penelope!’ echoed through the house.

She ignored the call for her presence.

‘PENELOPE! You will be wife in 4 days, and you are still hiding like an insolent child’.

‘I CAN NOT BELIEVE she is getting married, and I am not. I am older than her!’ she heard Prudence complain.

‘I have no time for your whining, Prudence. You should have secured a suitor then. Ugh. Your sister needs to put on her wedding dress for the final fitting, and I cannot find her, but when I do, she will rue it,” Portia exclaimed.

She did not hear the threat because she was gone. Out through the back door. She had instructed her butler to say that she had gone to see Eloise, which was a lie, but her mother would buy it, for now. Later she would say that because of all the ‘excitement’ she had forgotten about the appointment.

And away she went, by herself because somewhere in this city that she loved so much but was now weighing her down, surely, she should be able to find a place to think quietly.

At least she hoped so.

Chapter Text

She must have been staring aimlessly at her plate of food. Her mistake, she should have been more thoughtful. Not let anything show. Something she was good at, hiding herself. Not standing out. It had been her greatest strength for years; a striking personality would not have given her the leeway to become Lady Whistledown.

She had experienced this anonymity as a warm blanket. No one looked at her. It was a distinct opportunity to prick up her ears and hear what she needed to fill her gossip sheet. Her writing had started out of a combination of restlessness, boredom, and an urgency to write something.

But she did not know exactly what that was until one day, at yet another ball where the Featherington daughters had failed to attract suitors, she heard Lady Canterbury gossiping about her, her mother, and her sisters.

‘They do look dreadful, the Featheringtons in their ball gowns. All from the last two seasons. Ghastly... Penelope in that hideous yellow citrus dress, for example. You can see that Mama Featherington is desperate to find her daughters suitors, but the girls are all so... awkward. Apart from Mr. Finch but he is as outer worldly as Philippa, no one will show any interest in them. It is incredibly sad.’

Penelope should not have heard that. No doubt, but she did. Although part of her could not deny that they were a sad bunch together, that did not give the haughty Lady Canterbury the right to speak about her and her family like that. She was keen on revenge, no matter what. The opportunity did not present itself right away and took some time to present itself.

A few weeks later, Penelope was at another dull ball and had to watch Cressida try to get Colin to dance with her, which luckily, he was not interested in. A smile crossed her lips when she heard Colin make an excuse to get away from her. However, Penelope was not granted a moment’s respite, because not much later she saw Colin dancing with a debutante she had never seen before. ‘New Money,’ she suspected, at least that was the condescending name given to new arrivals.

Fortunately, she was not too deep in thought. The mention of the name Lady Canterbury had caught her attention. The buzz was almost imperceptible, but she clearly picked it up. A deal gone wrong. Scammed. They kept up appearances, but they had had to sell a couple of possessions and even jewellery. Penelope had already noticed that the always, so adorned Lady Canterbury had bare neck at recent events, but this was the reason.

And the reason fuelled her inspiration. An idea. What if she gave outsiders a glimpse into the world of the ton? Exposing them for what they truly were, that their inner ugliness, arrogance, and condescension were beautifully hidden behind a veneer. Because only she, Penelope, saw the cracks showing through the surface, behind the genuine-looking smiles, jealousy and distrust reigned. The resentment of not allowing someone else to have what they wanted for themselves.

One day, when her mother and sisters went to congratulate some bride or other and Portia had to watch someone else marry her daughter, Penelope used a headache as an excuse to stay at home. She had acted well because Portia had somehow found her credible. She slipped the butler a note and bought his discretion, and away she went. Penelope had pretended to be a maid and told the printer, an influential and affluent personality in the world of the upper class, that she had a profitable idea that would benefit them both. Although the printer was enthusiastic, he needed persuasion, much to Penelope’s disappointment.

‘We will try one edition. If it is a success, I will go into business with you, madam...’

‘My mistress wishes to remain anonymous,’ Penelope replied quickly.

‘Works for me, but if I lose out, I need to be able to recoup the costs that I made,’ the printer Mr. Carter replied slyly.

‘You will not have to. I.. I mean, my mistress is convinced that her idea will be fruitful.’

‘We’ll see about that,’ Mr. Carter said.

London was an enormous success. People from all social classes loved it, and so the whole of London read the following headline, after a brief introduction of who Lady Whistledown was:

‘Have the Canterburys fallen from financial grace?’

It took six months before the Canterbury’s, including their daughter, reappeared in society. Penelope felt remorse initially, but all that went out the window when she saw both ladies turn up their noses at her mother. Portia knew what it was like to experience financial setbacks so therefore wanted to offer a warm welcome back but the Canterbury’s dismissed her warm greeting as an unwanted moment of contact and made it clear that, as a member of the Featherington’s, she was still inferior.

Meanwhile, Lady Whistledown had become a weekly phenomenon that everyone looked forward to, well, everyone except the ton. They were terrified that the gossip sheet would unravel a deeply held secret and expose the skeletons in their closets.

No matter how powerful her alter ego had become and how she enjoyed her work, there were moments when she too was afraid of being exposed. Her system of transferring copies to the printer had worked so far, yet it was not easy to hide her writing activities. It was a good thing that her mother always announced her arrival loudly, by yelling her name, which gave Penelope time to hide her documents in a place where no one would look, under a loose floorboard. And even though her sisters were at times cruel towards her, fortunately they never had the urge to search through her belongings or had a valid reason to be in her room.

Months had passed, and that brings us, dearest reader, to the present moment.

‘PENELOPE!’

She nearly jumped out of her seat. In her absent-mindedness, she had not been aware that she been flattening her peas for ten minutes.

‘I think your poor peas have suffered enough,’ Portia remarked.

‘Yes, mother,’ Penelope replied meekly, and Penelope put her fork down beside her.

They were alone, Phillippa and Prudence were in their rooms, having concluded that their dresses for the wedding were a little tight and that they should therefore skip a meal or two. To Philippa's initial displeasure, it must be said, but Prudence was as uncompromising to her as she was to herself.

Portia let them be but had told her daughters that they had been indulging far too much in the new baker, Mrs. Crocombe's cakes lately, (writer's note: hehehehe, English Heritage on YouTube channel inside joke).

‘What's the matter with you, Penelope?’ asked Portia.

Her mother was many things, but subtle was not one of them, nor would she ever be.

‘What do you mean?’ Penelope asked, knowing full well what Portia meant.

‘I mean that you do not look like a blushing bride-to-be at all. Far from it, in fact. Is everything all right between you and Colin?’ Portia asked.

‘It is fine, we... we are doing well. Very much excited for the big day,’ she mumbled in reply.

A moment of silence. Hopefully enough for the lie to sink in.

‘Why don't I believe you?’ she heard Portia say.

Or not enough.

"I don't know what you want me to say, mother.

I can only tell you what I know, ‘but it did not sound convincing.

Portia paused for a moment before speaking.

’Is this about Lord Fife? ‘Portia asked, and it seemed as if she had struck Penelope right in the heart, as a sharp pain shot through her body, but she had to lie.

’No."

Portia shook her head and then brought her fingers to her temple, seeming to massage away a sudden headache. Because it was not convincing and her mother’s suspicion was right.

Things were not well at all. The other day when Portia and Mrs. Bridgerton were going over the details for the wedding, Colin and Penelope were standing in the hallway.

The two mothers had finally dismissed them and were deep in conversation. Noticing the situation, Colin suddenly grinned at her and reached for her arm. The next thing Penelope knew, she was running through the Bridgerton house, led by Colin.

‘Colin! They will notice we are gone!’

‘No, they won't, they're too busy discussing which linen to use for the reception,’ Colin quipped.

The tour of the house continued, but eventually he led her to the garden, to the barn and then around the corner of said barn, out of sight of everyone.

He pushed Penelope lightly against the wall, looked down at her with a warm smile and stated with a contented sigh:

‘Finally, we are alone.’

A second later he had pressed his lips against hers.

It was a sweet kiss. She knew it would be somehow, after all these years imagining his lips on hers. All those nights wanting to be kissed by Coin and now it had happened and yet a realisation struck her like lightning.

She had always thought she would have been affected, to be thrilled by this gentle moment but somehow, she was not.

It was not immediate, but he eventually sensed that as she did not seem to engage in kissing him back. He withdrew and her heart broke when she saw how disappointed he was. She didn't want to hurt him, it was the last thing she wanted to do, and yet she had done so.

‘I am sorry, I took you by surprise. I should have asked.’

‘No,’ Penelope spoke uncertainly, ‘it's alright, Colin,’ she assured him, but he didn't seem assured even though he smiled briefly at her.

‘Let's just go back,’ he murmured, and neither he nor Penelope spoke a word on the way back to the drawing room.

Portia was still massaging her head when she paused and stared straight at her daughter.

‘I have watched you gawk over that boy for more years than I can count.’

Penelope looked at Portia in disbelief after hearing this sentence.

‘Oh, do not look at me like that. A mother knows these things. But now, now that you finally have the chance to marry him, you do not want to?’ Portia asked incredulously.

"No... I mean, I. I am simply confused, ‘Penelope said with a trembling voice, confessing her doubts.

“Confused? Well, allow me to undo the confusion, Portia began in a sharp tone, ’we cannot afford another scandal, you do realise that?"

‘Of course I do! I am fully aware of the implications of-.’

‘I don’t think you are!’ Portia interrupted.

‘Penelope, if this wedding does not happen, we can never show our faces in social circles again. The chances of your sisters marrying will be nothing. It is one thing to survive one scandal, but two... it will be unheard of. It will be catastrophic.’

She could not say anything in reply because it was the truth. It would be the nail in the coffin.

‘What if I...’ But she could not finish the sentence because the truth.

‘What if you do not love him. Is that it? Heavens be, Penelope! Do you want to ruin us?’ Portia exclaimed incredulously.

‘I do love him, but I am just sure if I love him in the way I should,’ Penelope confessed tearfully.

Portia let herself fall into her chair and closed her eyes to recoup herself. When she did, she spoke clearly and matter-of-factly.

‘I suggest you try to regain a sense of affection towards him, my dear daughter. I really hope you do. Lord Fife has walked away from you, and as it stands Colin is your only option.’

An uneasy silence was endured for a couple of minutes but eventually Portia stood up, walked towards the door but before she reached for the handle, she turned once more to address her daughter, with a kindness in her voice that Penelope was not used to.

‘Colin is a good man. He loves you. I can tell he does, so just ‘and Portia sighed, ‘give him a chance, will you? Give him a chance to make you happy. Please.’

And with that last request uttered, Portia exited the door and left Penelope alone with her doubts.

******

Mrs Bentley talked a lot, entirely too much, and it irritated him, although he did not let it show. She was excellent in the sack, so he decided that the benefits outweighed the disadvantages in that regard, and he had to do something to get through the next few days.

The plan to visit his friend had been cancelled because said friend had informed him that a family member had fallen ill, a beloved aunt, so Robert's visit was suddenly no longer possible. The trip had been postponed until September.

Robert naturally respected his friend’s wishes, but a few days away from London had done him good and therefore he was disappointed.

Now that his plans had fallen through, Robert had to find entertainment elsewhere on this Saturday evening, in the arms of Mrs. Bentley, who kept talking about her husband who paid little attention to her. Robert knew the reason for this, that Mr. Bentley had married her only for her connections and wealth and that his heart belonged to another, but it was not his place to reveal the betrayal of one spouse to another.

He tentatively decided that he could become a kind of male version of Lady Whistledown; he knew a lot and heard a lot. He knew who was cheating on whom, who had a secret love child here and there, who was in financial trouble...

They say that women gossip, but men were just as bad, if not worse. It was something he was guilty of himself, this hypocrisy. This false friendliness and the constant urge to wait for someone to slip up, only to take that knowledge and store it and share it later.

In that sense, he and Lady Whistledown were similar. Oh, hell. He had managed not to think about a certain redhead with an alter ego for the past few hours, and now he was back to square one.

He knocked back another glass of whisky, to the slight disapproval of his butler.

‘Sir, if I may be so bold- “the man in front of him began to speak, but Robert interrupted him before he could continue.

‘Ah, ah, aaah, Jeffries. I know what you are going to say. You are going to say that I have possibly consumed too much alcohol already and if I do not stop soon, I will have to resort to vomiting in the waste basket, which the maids will have to clean in the morning and they will rightly complain about cleaning that to you,’ Robert said, slurring his words, barely able to form a coherent sentence, but he had done so nonetheless.

‘I appreciate the concern but as you can see, well I am doing, (so much for being coherent), no I meant to say, I am doing well. In fact, I am feeling jolly...,’ *Robert burped*, 'jolly good now. Go to bed, Jeffries. It is getting quite late; I do not want to keep you much longer".

The butler did not seem entirely willing to leave and looked at Robert suspiciously but took his leave. When he was alone, it seemed a better notion to just grab the bottle and take a decent swig. And another. And another until the bottle was empty. He staggered to the liquor cabinet, but a sudden nausea made him stagger. Robert still had some sense left and rushed towards the wastebasket, where he vomited the entire contents of the bottle he had just consumed. When he came to, which took ages, he wanted to clean himself up and remembered that there was a box of tissues in his desk drawer.

Robert stumbled again, this time to his desk, and opened the drawer.

He found the handkerchiefs, quickly soaked them with water, and cleaned his lips. When he had freshened up a bit, his gaze fell on the drawer that was still open. His hands reached for the set of papers, and he read the first sentence. Involuntarily, he walked to the sofa and began to read, every paragraph, piece by piece, each copy of the paper.

She really was a talented writer. Her commentary was astute, witty, and although her pen strokes could be venomous at times, the sarcasm was sometimes too prevalent, she did not seem to lie, not even about herself.

Penelope poked fun at herself on several occasions, in her alter ego guise, mocking the hideous dresses she wore to balls.

Sincerity disguised in insincerity, truth shining through the façade.

And he saw through it too. He saw who she really was and who she could be, how people underestimated her and how she had been clever enough to turn this into strength, to start something truly original. Holding up a mirror to the world and saying, look, you are not genuine either. You are hiding something too.

Her column was truly brilliant. SHE was truly brilliant.

When he had read the last copy of the gossip sheet, he leaned back, but this was not entirely comfortable. Instead, he grabbed a frilly cushion that he normally hated, placed it accordingly and lay down on it.

When he wanted to open his eyes, he quickly closed them again. Jabs of pain went through his head, and it was barely bearable for several minutes, but when his blue eyes regained vision, two maids looked at him disapprovingly.

‘Sorry. Sorry. I will pay you extra this week.’

Jeffries brought him a concoction that was horrible to drink. The concoction was called Jeeves' Bracer, and contained Worcestershire sauce, raw egg, and pepper. Robert couldn't understand how consuming a raw egg could possibly improve a hangover, given that he had quite literally expelled the contents of his stomach, but disgusting as it was, it did help, and after a few hours and a well-drawn bath, Robert was his old self again.

He glanced at the clock as he got dressed. It was half past ten. Sunday. Her wedding day. Good. Robert was happy for her. He truly was, as he had concluded before, this was what she wanted and as much as he hated the twat, he could not lie and say that Colin wasn't suitable for her. He was a sensible, honourable man, Colin would be kind to Penelope.

Yes, Colin would be a suitable twat, no, husband.

As for Robert, he would manage and continue the way he did for a couple of years and eventually marry someone, or not. Probably not, she would have to be really special for him to even want to get married.

Robert ordered a light breakfast as he was still feeling a bit queasy and as ate, he glanced unwillingly at the clock once more.

One hour left to the ceremony, well at least it would be over soon. At least he could put things behind him soon. Sure, it would be awkward to encounter the happy people at the next ball, but he would be gracious and publicly congratulate and wish them well, to show there is no resentment or ill will from his side.

He couldn't stop looking at the clock. It was as if the ticking was ten times louder than normal, warning him with urgency.

Half an hour left.

Robert ignored the sounds and decided to read a book, which would distract him... but he kept rereading the same page several times and did not take in the content; in fact, he had always found Voltaire pretentious. Exasperated, he threw the book away.

Outside, he realised. He had to get outside. A good walk would do him good. He grabbed his jacket, left the house, and began to walk, aimlessly, or was he?

An acquaintance greeted him, but he paid no heed. It was as if he was transfixed and at the same time, totally lost in his thoughts. He sped up, unexpectedly and without knowing what he was doing, he started running. Running through busy streets with men, women and children going about their day, carriages, barriers he came across, but he crossed them all.

He paused, out of breath when he eventually got to where his feet had driven him to go. As he regained composure he walked towards the building. There was no one outside, all barriers were gone. As he pushed the heavy, brown oak door open, it gave way with a scratching sound, derived from rusty elements.

It was a LOUD entrance, people looked back to see who had entered.

And then, out of sheer urgency, Robert loudly exclaimed two words. Two simple words, but they thundered through the chapel.

‘I OBJECT.’

‘On what grounds??,’ the priest asked.

‘What?’ Robert asked as he suddenly became astutely aware that over one hundred wedding guests were staring at him in bewilderment and the bride and groom seemed even more bewildered.

‘On what grounds do you object to this union?’ the priest asked in agitation.

Robert took a deep breath and then in all earnestness and with all the conviction he simply stated, ‘because the bride should be marrying ME instead’.