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Gentle Readers,

While many of you have declared in the past that I am the most cunning and perceptive woman of the Ton, it has been stiff competition for quite some time to determine who amongst us might be the most ignorant and naïve. A wide array of tittering debutants and meddlesome mamas have made a case for themselves over the seasons – not to mention the noble Lords who throw their money away on get rich quick schemes. The transparent antics and bumbled theatrics have provided us all with plenty of entertainment over the years.

Tissue stuffed bodices revealed during compromising closet rendezvouses; priceless jewelry left carelessly in gardens whilst in the midst of a moonlit tryst; runaway brides realizing their betrothed’s heart belonged to another all along; transparent schemes to entrap well-titled, unwitting men into loveless marriages. Truly, too many instances of ignorance to count, all culminating in the gravest exemplification of naiveté one could commit. Believing one’s secrets can be concealed from me.

It is safe to say, however, after the events of this week that a victor has emerged from the shadows to claim her title. 

Let it be known that one Mrs. Penelope Bridgerton née Featherington is the most ignorant and naïve woman in all of London. And perhaps also the luckiest.

Lady Whistledown
April 8, 1816.

Penelope Featherington prided herself on knowing everything that went on in the Ton. Over the last three seasons, she had finely honed her talent for observation and harnessed it to capture the hearts and minds of the Ton. Not that it did her prospects any good on the marriage mart. Lady Whistledown might be loved by all, however entering her fourth season Penelope Featherington had yet to attract the interest of a single suitor. Or so she believed. Before the end of the season she would be forced to reevaluate just how observant she truly was.

One morning at the beginning of her fourth season on the marriage market, Penelope was ecstatic to be greeted by one Mr. Colin Bridgerton in the drawing room of her family’s home. Wearing a sheepish smile and a lilac cravat, the third Bridgerton brother charmed her at a glance as he was always wont to do. Penelope tried to stifle the giddy rush that coursed through her veins but couldn’t hold back a grin at being reunited with her dear friend. She longed for his company when he was abroad and his affection when he was near. Though she had come to terms with the fact that her love would never be reciprocated, she had determined that friendship with Colin was well worth enduring the longing that her traitorous heart refused to abandon.

“Pen!” he greeted her fondly, beaming at her in his unique way that charmed everyone he encountered at a glance.

“Colin!” she replied with equal enthusiasm, clasping her hands together so as not to overstep the bounds of propriety and give in to the yearning to wrap her arms around him. Not that she would be able to do so without crushing the three bouquets he had cradled in his arms.

“Lady Featherington,” he nodded to her mother, “Miss Featherington,” he repeated the motion to her sister Prudence.

“We’re so pleased to see that you are back, Mister Bridgerton.” Penelope’s shoulders tensed as she recognized the note of deception her mother’s voice held whenever Portia Featherington was scheming. Penelope braced herself for the embarrassment that would inevitably befall her if her mother saw fit to try and convince Colin to wed Prudence. Surely she couldn’t think he would fall for such a manipulation after her mother’s role in his failed engagement to Lady Crane. “I trust your travels went well?”

“Indeed Lady Featherington,” Colin’s face lit up as it always did when someone showed interest in his travels. “Though I must say, I am quite relieved to have returned home after such a long time away from my loved ones. I’ve only just arrived this morning.”

“Well, now,” her mother held her head high, a glimmer of conceit in her eyes. “We are honoured that you found the time to visit us so soon upon your return.”

“Marauding minotaurs could not have kept me away,” Colin joked. “Penelope has done her best to keep me up to date with the goings on, however I must admit, having promised to protect you fine ladies, I do worry when I am abroad that some rogue like Lord Featherington will take advantage of you again without me here to defend you.”

“And we are always so appreciative of your consideration for us Mr. Bridgerton,” her mother exclaimed. “You have no idea how it eases my nerves knowing a fine gentleman like you is looking out for us. Thankfully there has been no cause for concern in your absence.”

“Is that right, Pen?” Colin eyed Penelope carefully as though trying to discern whether her mother’s words were to be believed.

“Yes,” her smile in reply was small and shy but genuine. “All was well in your absence – if a little monotonous.”

“Well, I suppose it’s good that I’m here to liven things up,” Colin grinned, “Starting with a bouquet for each of you.”

“So kind of you, Mr. Bridgerton,” her mother applauded, accepting the colourful bouquet he handed to her.

He held out a bouquet for Prudence next. Penelope’s sister practically melted at the gesture. While it had always been presumed that Penelope would not be receiving suitors let alone ones bearing gifts of bouquets, no one liked to admit that Prudence rarely received such attentions either. While Colin certainly had no intentions towards either one of them, his thoughtfulness in bringing flowers for not just Penelope but also her mother and sister only strengthened the feelings she hid from him.

Prudence leaned in while accepting the flowers and whispered something conspiratorially that Penelope couldn’t quite catch. If Colin’s reaction of a nervous chuckle and his ears decidedly reddening was any indication, perhaps it was for the best that Penelope didn’t hear.

“I appreciate that, Miss Featherington,” he said with another nervous chuckle. “And shall consider that as a last resort should all else fail.” 

Seemingly content with his reply, a smirk lingered on Prudence’s face as she stepped back to flaunt her bouquet to her mother. Colin turned his attention to Penelope with a dazzling smile.

“Last but certainly not least,” he chuckled, handing her the largest bouquet.

“Yellow tulips,” Penelope forced a smile and tried to remind herself that she should be happy to be getting any flowers from Colin at all even if they did symbolize unrequited love. Sure, it felt like pouring salt in the open wound that was her broken heart, but she was certain Colin hadn’t intended to be cruel.

“They weren’t my first choice.” Colin, hands now free of their burdens, rubbed the back of his neck. “By the time I got off of the ship and freshened up, the florist’s shop had been rather picked over. But the yellow did remind me of you.”

“Thank you,” Penelope lowered her face to the bouquet, smelling it and trying her best to compose herself. “They're lovely.”

She glanced over at her sister who had her own face buried in her bouquet of scarlet geraniums – blissfully unaware of their symbolic ties to stupidity and foolishness in a way that was rather fitting. Catching Penelope’s knowing gaze, Colin shot her a cheeky wink and a teasing smirk. If there had been any doubt lingering in Penelope’s mind that Colin may not realize the meaning behind the flowers he had delivered, it vanished in an instant.

Her own bouquet of pink and yellow cinquefoils – maternal affection – still in hand, Portia urged Prudence to help her go find some suitable vases for the bouquets. Prudence followed, but not without grumbling complaints that Varley should be the one tasked to do so. Left in only each other’s company, as they so often found themselves, Colin and Penelope smiled shyly at one another.

“I missed you,” Colin remarked, rocking back onto his heels.

“And I you,” Penelope replied, eyes dropping to her feet as she felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She had missed him more than she cared to admit to anyone, including herself. 

She supposed she had no one but herself to blame for her most recent months spent missing Colin. After all, she had convinced him to pursue the opportunity to travel once more. Penelope had suggested after his failed engagement with the late Lady Crane that he take his time before marriage. To take his time courting. To make sure he made the most of his life as a bachelor before tying himself down including travelling to all the places he wished to see. Perhaps it had been a little self-serving, but she did love to read his renditions of his adventures and as long as he was abroad, he was far less likely to settle down and find a wife. Even if he did find a woman abroad to court at least Penelope wouldn’t have to watch it unfold before her eyes.

“I am excited to hear about all of your travels though. Your letters were engrossing – why I practically felt like I was walking by your side the way you described Parisian fashion and architecture so vividly – that being said, your words spurred more questions than I could properly convey in my replies.”

“I’m excited to share all of  my new stories with my most attentive audience,” Colin grinned.

“Then let us not waste time,” Penelope smiled and made to lead Colin towards the main seating area, eager to get a chance to listen to him before her mother and sister returned and began interrupting his stories. Colin, it seemed, foresaw a similar future for he intercepted Penelope, offering his arm and leading her to her favourite settee by the window where they were less likely to be imposed upon by her family. He sat close beside her, close enough that their knees and shoulders brushed – not that Penelope would ever complain about the proximity. She feared for a moment Colin could not say the same as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His face took on a look of momentary confusion, before he grinned at her and plucked different novels from between the cushions of the settee.

“Have you been concealing prohibited reading material, Miss Featherington?” he raised a brow but couldn’t conceal his clear amusement at having found her hoard.

“You’ve caught me,” Penelope giggled, snatching the books from his hands. “I do hope this won’t taint your good opinion of me.”

“Little chance of that,” Colin assured her. “But just what is the nature of this forbidden material, Pen? I must know. Is it radically progressive in nature, likely a loan from my sister? Or perhaps romances your mother deemed too risqué?”

“Nothing of the sort,” Penelope shrugged even as her cheeks pinked. “Unfortunately, reading material of any kind is largely prohibited in the Featherington abode.”

Colin scowled. “Whatever for?”

“Why, don’t you know it confuses a young lady’s thoughts, Mr. Bridgerton,” Penelope said, putting on her best impression of her mother, but his scowl only deepened.

“That notion confuses my thoughts,” he shook his head as if to vanish the statement. “When I – if I had it my way, you would have a well stocked library of books at your disposal to read openly and discuss freely to your heart’s content.”

“That’s a lovely notion, Colin,” Penelope sighed. “It’s a shame my mother doesn’t share your sentiments.”

“Not the first thing your mother and I disagree on,” Colin mumbled.

“And unlikely to be the last either,” Penelope smirked.

“Well, unlike your mother, I’d quite like to hear all about the books you’re reading,” Colin said as he plucked a book off of the pile in Penelope’s lap.

Penelope’s eyes lit at the opportunity. They discussed each book at length, Penelope recounting the contents she had read so far to Colin and him interjecting on occasion to offer his own remarks and insights. Penelope was overjoyed at how natural and delightful it was to speak with Colin again. He had a unique way of making her feel heard like no one else did. While she loved discussing books with Eloise, the conversations often turned into lectures where Eloise treated Penelope as a captive audience. Colin on the other hand was equal parts invested in what she had to say and eager to contribute to the conversation.  He was full of lively, insightful takes, and she found herself laughing more than she could remember doing since he had departed from Britain.

Penelope’s mother and sister never returned to the drawing room – their guest seemingly having slipped their minds Penelope presumed. However, an absurdly large tray heaped with food and accompanying tea was soon delivered to the delight of Colin.

The pair took a break from their discussion on the talents of one Miss Jane Austen to collect their fill of sandwiches, biscuits, and tea before returning to their secluded settee by the window with their feast.

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen so much food at tea time in our home,” Penelope laughed. “Chef must have made a mistake. I’d best have my fill before mother returns to chide me for eating too much.”

“Let us both hope that does not come to pass,” Colin said, eyes taking on a dark look Penelope couldn’t recall seeing from him in all their years as friends.

“You let me get carried away with discussion of my books,” Penelope apologized. “We’ve hardly even touched on the tales from your travels.”

Colin shrugged, “That’s alright. I was quite enjoying discussing your foray into forbidden fiction. I will tell you plenty about my travels in the future. If the past is any indication, I will tell them so frequently they will bore you to death.”

Penelope’s smile fell, “Whatever do you mean? I never tire of your tales.”

Colin’s lips drew into a tight line that conveyed his insecurity. “Everyone else seems to.”

“Well, not me,” Penelope insisted. “I always find your stories riveting, Colin. I’ve been eagerly awaiting your tales since the moment you left. Please tell me of your tour. Was it as amazing as I’ve been imagining it to be?”

“I admit, I didn’t enjoy this tour nearly as much as the previous ones,” Colin told her with a sheepish – almost shy – smile that was so oddly out of character for him that Penelope couldn’t help but stare. He continued, “As I wrote to you, I fear I was much more interested in returning home than running away. I missed it dearly.”

“One can hardly blame you,” Penelope reassured him sympathetically. After all it was a momentous time in the Bridgerton family. Daphne had given birth to her third daughter, Caroline, not long after Colin left, followed not a month later by the birth of Benedict’s first child, Charles. “And as I wrote to you on more than one occasion, you were greatly missed by all here in London – much as your loved ones tease and hide their affections when you are home, do not doubt that your absence is greatly felt and lamented over when you are away.”

“That’s not to say that I didn’t appreciate your advice, Pen,” Colin rushed to say. “You were right to encourage me to travel again. I learned much on my travels – about myself as much as the destinations I visited. And I’ve come away from it with a certainty in myself and my future. I cannot tell you how great a relief it is.”

“That is wonderful, Colin,” Penelope smiled up at him. “I knew you would succeed in finding your purpose someday.”

“Yes,” Colin replied, “This trip was just the thing I needed to affirm to myself that my purpose is here in London. As much as I have enjoyed my travels, that portion of my life has passed.”

“Truly?” Penelope asked hopefully. Light danced in Penelope’s eyes at the declaration that he would be staying in London for the foreseeable future. While she had pushed for him to travel both times – somewhat selfishly, the first time to discourage his pursuit of Marina and most recently to distract him from any inclinations to begin courting other women – Penelope always missed him terribly when he was away. No amount of letters could compare to the comfort his presence brought her.

“Yes,” Colin mused thoughtfully, “This trip has assuaged me of any doubts. I think the time has come when I am ready to settle down.” He smiled softly. Penelope felt a pain strike through her entire body so great she might have been struck by a carriage. She had always known this day would come – had been trying to prepare herself emotionally for years – but no amount of preparation could have readied her for this declaration. It took all of her strength not to burst into tears. Not to beg him to reconsider. She knew he would never return her feelings but she had grown content with the friendship they had fostered over the years. And to know her manipulations in encouraging him to travel had brought about his conviction only made it all the more painful. She supposed in some ways she deserved this karmic justice for interfering with Colin’s life, but it did not make her feel the least bit better as Colin continued, “It is well past time I should be married.”

Unable to meet his gaze, Penelope stared down at the book in her hands, opening it and gently flipping through the pages.

“My Mama tells me much the same thing at every opportunity,” Penelope tried to quip but it fell flat. She felt Colin’s gaze grow serious and moments later he reached out and gently stole one of her hands from the book.

“Not everyone understands that these things take time,” Colin said gently. “I hope you know how grateful I have been over the years for your assurances that one should take their time with such things. It was just the advice I needed after my disastrous first attempt at finding a wife.”

Penelope grimaced at the reminder of her late cousin’s courtship with the man.

“I know how that affected you, Colin, and I know how persistent your mother and Anthony have been pressuring you to secure a wife since then. They just want you to be happy, but these things shouldn’t be rushed. Hearts don’t heal on a schedule. You will know when you are ready.”

“I am ready,” Colin declared, though his throat tightened and the hand holding Penelope’s grew sweaty. “Though I must admit I am a little nervous.”

“Colin,” Penelope barely managed to stop herself from rolling her eyes. It was sweet, truly, how Colin Bridgerton of all people was nervous about courting the women of the Ton, but Penelope couldn’t help the resentment that lingered in the back of her mind. Even with no title, Colin was one of the most desirable bachelors in the Ton. While Penelope always wanted to be a good friend, it was hard to comfort his insecurities when she was the one rapidly approaching spinsterhood never being shown the slightest hint of interest from any suitors. “I can assure you that you have nothing to worry about.”

“Right – of course,” he muttered, tugging at his hair with his free hand.

A silence fell between them. Distracted by the battle raging within her between the responsibility she felt to comfort Colin as his friend and the part of her that grew flushed and slightly queasy at the mere thought of him courting other women, Penelope, with her eyes fixed once again on the pages of the book in her lap, overlooked the deep breath Colin pulled in as he steeled himself to break the silence.

“Pen – do you – that is – would you like to marry me?”

“Of course, Colin,” Penelope kept her eyes steadfastly on the book in front of her so the longing of her heart wouldn’t show in her eyes. She knew he didn’t mean to be cruel, but the hypothetical of a life as Mrs. Colin Bridgerton had lived in her fantasies for as long as she had known him. Speaking of it so casually and knowing in her heart that it would never be a reality was heartbreaking. But, if Colin was feeling so lost that he needed her reassurances, she would grin and bear it as she told him what he needed to hear. “Any woman would be lucky to have you as a husband.”

He had expected a bit more enthusiasm from her, but didn’t let that damper his spirits in the slightest. The only reassurance he required was the gentle squeeze of her hand paired with the flush of her cheeks. Penelope had always kept her feelings so guarded, he couldn’t hold it against her for withdrawing into herself at such a consequential moment.

“And you will make a better wife than any man deserves, Penelope,” Colin reassured her, squeezing her hand gently in return.

“I do not believe I deserve such praise,” Penelope murmured, slipping her hand out of his and back to the book. She hung her head demurely, modest as ever, making Colin want to sing her praises and dissuade her of such inane beliefs that she was anything but perfect.

“Why is that?” he remarked sternly.

Penelope finally looked up, glancing up at him as she began to speak before her eyes flitted away again, “Colin, I–”

“And do not say because you are Lady Whistledown,” Colin interrupted. “If anything your success reinforces my point.”

Penelope’s eyes flew back to him, jaw hanging slack in surprise.

“You know!” she exclaimed.

“Of course,” Colin smiled sheepishly, shaking his head lightly at her surprise.

“Wha–whe–how did you figure it out?”

Colin laughed, “I know you, Penelope. Once I let myself consider the idea, it was the only thing that made sense.”

“Am I truly that obvious?” Penelope wondered aloud.

Colin shrugged, “Perhaps only to me. Unless you’re frequently gossiping with and writing letters to other gentlemen.”

“Well, I suppose I’ll have to stop that now if that is what has given me away,” Penelope teased. “All my dashing suitors will be so disappointed.”

Colin laughed and any lingering despair about his search for a wife was pushed to the back of Penelope’s mind. It was hard to remain sad around Colin for long.

“It was your voice, Pen,” Colin explained. “It comes through in your writings as Whistledown. Perhaps others overlook it because you are so quiet and unassuming, but I’ve listened to your barbs and corresponded with you enough to decipher your voice in your writings.”

“When did you come to this conclusion?”

“I’ve known for ages.”

“Since when?”

Colin shrugged, “About a year and a half, I suppose. I started piecing it together after I returned from my first tour. I reckon I had figured it out by the time Anthony became engaged to Kate.” 

Penelope swatted his leg gently with her book. “And you didn’t say anything!”

“And risk being blackmailed by the notorious Lady Whistledown!” Colin scoffed, hand flying up to cover his heart. “I think not.”

Penelope laughed.

“You didn’t say anything either,” he accused.

Penelope raised her chin, “It wouldn’t be much of a secret if I went around telling everyone.”

“We’re not talking about everyone,” Colin’s eyes narrowed but his voice stayed playful as ever. “We’re talking about me, Penelope.”

“Well isn’t someone feeling high-and-mighty,” Penelope scoffed and grinned as she got to her feet. “Apologies for not treating you with the proper respect,” she said, curtsying dramatically low.

Colin laughed and snatched her wrist, tugging her back down onto the settee next to him.

“That’s not what I mean and you know it,” he replied. “It’s just – I know you are intelligent and capable and independent, but I always hated to think of you going through this alone with no one to confide in.”

Penelope blushed at his praise. “That’s very sweet, Colin. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Do not think that it was not because I didn’t trust you. The only person I have ever told was Eloise – and that was only because the Queen threatened her. Keeping her from accidentally spilling my secret has been quite the endeavor so I couldn’t fathom letting another person in on it.”

“I understand,” Colin assured her, “But trust that your secret is safe with me, Penelope.”

Penelope nodded, weighing his words for a moment. She trusted him. Of course she trusted him.

“Do you have any questions about it?” Penelope asked quietly, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

“Oh– yes!” Colin leaned in eagerly, turning to her with a teasing boyish grin and accusatory eyes. “Why do you insist on only ever calling me charming?”

Penelope turned bright red and willed herself to fall into the center of the Earth.

“I–that’s what you want to know!” she exclaimed.

Colin nodded, chuckling.

“Why?”

“Because it hurts my feelings.”

“Calling you charming hurts your feelings?” she asked.

He nodded.

“A little fragile of you, no?”

“If I was fragile that comment wouldn’t have helped,” he pouted.

“You do know the definition of the word ‘charming’, do you not? You understand that it is a compliment? Do we need to procure a dictionary for you?”

“Only if it has an accompanying thesaurus for you,” he teased.

Penelope’s jaw dropped, indignant laughter bubbling up in her at the slight to her writing. Colin’s green eyes beamed with mischief.

“You’re incorrigible,” she giggled, shaking her head.

“So you do have other words to describe me!” he smirked.

She swatted at his leg again with the book and the pair were overcome with laughter.

When they had recovered, Penelope straightened, adjusting her skirts and addressed him. “Does it truly bother you that I call you charming in my columns?”

Colin’s ears burned red and he rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s silly, I know,” he admitted, “But it does bother me.”

Spurred by his admittance and vulnerability, Penelope instinctively reached for his hand. It was a bold move, one forbidden by the restrictions of propriety. While Colin had committed the same infraction on a number of occasions, including earlier in that very visit, Penelope had never thought she would reciprocate the gesture. But, he just looked so embarrassed and dejected and her writing was to blame. He seemed to brighten at her touch, green eyes catching on their hands before meeting hers.

“I know you meant no harm – that if anything you were trying to protect me by portraying me as the Ton’s most charming and universally loved gentleman–”

“You are charming and universally loved by the Ton! Everyone adores you! You know that, Colin!”

Colin huffed and squeezed her hand gently, “I know, Pen. Would you let me finish, please?”

Pressing her lips into a firm line, Penelope nodded her assent for him to carry on.

“I know you were being kind – trying to be complimentary – but, with all the years we’ve known each other and how close we’ve grown, all you have to say about me is that I’m charming,” he met Penelope’s gaze and for a moment Penelope feared that Lady Whistledown might not be the only secret of hers he could see through. “You know me more deeply than anyone in the world and yet you are able to sum me up in one word and portray me as though I am flirting with every woman in the Ton.”

“You said as much yourself,” Penelope replied defensively.

“Three years ago,” Colin admitted. “But you know I haven’t acted as such in the last two years. At least I hope you know that. I would hate to think that anyone, least of all you, believes I would act to flippantly without regard for–” 

“Colin,” not wanting to hear of how Colin wanted to be taken seriously by the women he was about to court and not thought of as an insincere flirt by his prospective wife, Penelope cut him off. She thought of all the drafts that she had set ablaze over the years after getting carried away waxing poetic about Colin Bridgerton. “You know I hold you in the highest esteem. You have plenty of other notable qualities.”

“Such as?” Colin prompted with a self-indulgent smile.

Penelope heaved a sigh. “Well, I suppose I can’t deny that you are perceptive given that you discovered my secret.”

“Mmhmm,” Colin hummed, lips twitching into a smirk. “And?”

“And you have always been incredibly kind and compassionate – at least in my experience. Though from what I’ve heard, you may abandon those qualities on the pall mall course.”

He rested his chin on his hand, enjoying her praise a little too much. “Go on…”

Penelope smiled coyly and twirling a dangling curl between her fingers, “And well…you may be one of the most arrogant gentlemen I have ever had the luxury of meeting.”

Humbled in an instant, Colin’s lips quickly fell, his brows drawing together in consternation. Penelope couldn’t help but laugh as he pouted at the turn the conversation had taken.

“I most certainly am not,” Colin retorted petulantly.

“Are you quite certain?” Penelope mused playfully. “Who else has complained to me of being lauded as the most charming gentleman in the Ton?”

“Anthony is more arrogant than me,” Colin grumbled. “And certainly Fife.”

Penelope laughed once more.

“One of the top three most arrogant arrogant gentlemen in the Ton then?”

“See if I was the most arrogant, I would insist on being number one,” Colin replied cheekily, his grin reappearing to Penelope’s delight.

“I suppose.” Penelope smiled.

“Careful, Pen,” Colin smirked. “Ladies in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.”

Penelope gawked at him. “Are you suggesting I am arrogant?” she exclaimed.

Colin's eyes glimmered deviously, delighted to have levelled the playing field.

“Without a doubt.”

“In what world–”

“In the world we currently reside in where you are the Ton’s most notorious gossip, casting judgement on others in your scribblings and boldly venturing the streets of Bloomsbury in the dead of night – which by the way, you have no idea how long I’ve been meaning to admonish you about, as that particular brand of arrogance could result in you getting hurt and I don’t know if I could t–”

“How do you know that?” Penelope exclaimed.

Colin’s ears reddened, embarrassed to answer but unwilling to back down in his position.

“I may have followed you on a few occasions – just to assure your safety!” he tried to reassure her as she blushed a deep shade of red.

“My safety from strange, overly assertive men who may follow me or find out my secret,” Penelope shot him a pointed look.

“You may call me a hypocrite all you want. As much confidence as I have in you, I couldn’t sleep many nights for fear of what might happen to you if something were to go awry. Even staying up late to follow you, I slept better knowing you had made it to and from St. Bride’s safely.”

“St. Bride’s–” Penelope repeated, astonished at the confirmation that he truly had been following her.

“It seemed quite appropriate, actually,” he smirked, relaxing back into the cushions and slinging an arm over the back of the settee. “Don’t you think?”

Penelope hummed noncommittally and shook her head, kicking herself for never having spotted Colin. She hadn’t thought there was a world where Colin Bridgerton could be in the same vicinity as her and her eyes not be immediately drawn to him.

“Do you know the story of St. Bride’s?” Colin grinned. His eyes lit with excitement, always eager to share his knowledge and stories. Penelope shook her head once again. “It’s one of Wren’s churches – the ones he built after the Great Fire. They’re all over the city, but I’ve decided I’m rather partial to St. Bride’s. Rather consider it my church now. Such a beautiful steeple. Don’t you think it looks like a wedding cake?”

“I suppose,” Penelope agreed. “I didn’t think you were a particularly religious person,” she remarked.

“I’m not,” he replied with an easy shrug. “But, aside from the obvious, I rather enjoyed learning that it was a church for writers. Given our shared love of writing I’m sure you understand the appeal.”

Penelope nodded.

“So if I had to pick a church,” he mused. “I rather like St. Bride’s.”

“As do I,” Penelope replied.

“I’m glad we agree.” Penelope melted a little at the magnetic smile that accompanied his statement.

“Although,” she reasoned, “I suppose I will need to find a new place to hand off my writings now that my location has been discovered.”

She sighed and watched on in amusement as Colin’s expression grew stern.

“Perhaps a location more out of the way. It must be somewhere with few witnesses and certainly no one from the Ton. Ideally on a dark street so my identity remains concealed in the shadows. Or near a pub where anyone who might see me would be too intoxicated to remember in the morning.”

“Absolutely not,” Colin all but growled.

Penelope raised her brows in faux surprise and met his gaze.

“I’ve been doing this by myself for years Colin not to mention these past months you’ve been away and I’ve never had any trouble in your absence,” she rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t asking for permission.”

“Well then maybe I am.”

“What?” Penelope baulked, caught entirely off guard.

“Asking for permission. To help you by accompanying you on your deliveries.”

“You really needn’t–”

“I would offer to take them myself but I can’t fathom that you would agree to let them out of your sight before you reach your drop location.”

“Of course–”

“So could we compromise by allowing me to accompany you?”

Penelope narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you just going to follow me again if I say no?”

Colin shrugged, a wicked smirk gracing his face. “Who can say? There’s really no way of knowing.”

“I figured you would be able to say given it is your actions I am inquiring about.”

“Listen Pen,” Colin replied. “I cannot predict what I might do when I’m tossing and turning at night, concerned about your whereabouts and well-being.”

Penelope sighed.

“What if someone spots us together?”

Colin shrugged nonchalantly once more.

“Perhaps it would present a scandalous enough story to obscure them from suspecting the true purpose of the escapade.”

“And you’re alright with that?” Penelope inquired with no small amount of surprise.

Colin just shrugged again.

“Fine,” Penelope replied hesitantly.

“Do you have a delivery to make tonight?”

Penelope shook her head.

“No,” she replied. “Not for the next few days.”

“Truly?”

“Yes truly,” she said indignantly. “I would not lie to you.”

Colin raised an eyebrow.

“Anymore,” she clarified with a teasing smile.

“If you say so,” Colin smirked.

“I do,” Penelope insisted.

“Very well,” he replied. Pulling out his pocket watch, Colin sighed. “As much as I’m enjoying your company, Pen, I should be going. Would you walk me out?”

Penelope nodded and rose to her feet, straightening her skirt before taking Colin’s outstretched arm.

“I understand,” Penelope conceded as they crossed the room. “I’m grateful you took the time to visit me so soon after disembarking. I’m sure your family must be desperate to spend time with you.”

“I suppose so,” Colin nodded, “My mother wants to throw a celebratory dinner tonight. Will you be able to attend?”

Penelope frowned up at him. As infatuated as she was with him, she didn’t want to impose on his welcome home party when he should be spending time with his family after months away.

“I’ve already taken so much of your time today,” Penelope replied hesitantly as they descended the staircase. “Don’t you want to celebrate with just your family? You must have hardly had a moment to speak to them since returning.”

“Come on, Pen. There would be no cause for celebration if not for you.” Penelope blushed, hoping he would not reiterate such sentiments to his family. While she stood by her decision to convince Colin to travel once more, she suspected Violet Bridgerton would not in fact celebrate Penelope’s efforts to convince her son to leave London and his family for such an extended period of time.

“Mr. Bridgerton!” Her own mother’s shrill voice took the pair by surprise as Portia Featherington cornered them before Colin could depart. “I take it your visit was satisfactory?” Her mother arched an eyebrow. Colin returned it politely with a sheepish smile.

“Quite, Lady Featherington. I would blush to admit how much I have missed Miss Penelope’s company on my travels. I am quite pleased that needn’t be the case any longer.”

“Mama, Lady Bridgerton has invited me for dinner this evening at Number Five.”

“And we would love to extend the invitation to you and Miss Featherington as well, if you happen to be free this evening. The formal invitation should arrive within the hour,” Colin added, rocking back on his heels. Penelope gaped up at Colin. Penelope had of course dined with the Bridgertons on numerous occasions but she couldn’t remember the last time her family had been extended a formal invitation by Lady Bridgerton. Perhaps not since Colin’s disastrous engagement to the late Lady Crane.

“We look forward to it,” Portia nodded. “We have always eagerly anticipated any opportunity to engage with your family.”

Colin’s eyes twinkled, “Indeed. Given my engaging visit with Penelope this afternoon, my family is eager to welcome you all with open arms.”

Looking rather pleased with himself, Colin looked down to Penelope for her approval. She smiled back at him, giddy at the prospect of dining with his family that evening. Although perhaps less so now that her own family would be in attendance, as her mother quickly reminded her the potential for embarrassment the evening might present by shrieking with excitement and clutching Penelope before he was even fully out the door. Over the commotion, Penelope could just make out his lighthearted chuckle before the door swung shut behind him.

Penelope arrived on the front steps of Number 5 with her mother in tow fussing over her dress incessantly and her sister who seemed to be in a particularly foul mood that evening.

“I don’t know why you’re bothering to fuss so much over Penelope’s dress mother,” Prudence grumbled. “It’s not as though it will make a difference.”

Penelope’s cheeks flushed with anger, but she held her temper and schooled her features as the doors to the entrance hall were opened to admit the Featherington women. If she were concerned about being caught bickering childishly with her sister, she need not have worried because Number 5 was alive with the buzz of familial squabbling. She rather thought her and Prudence’s snipes would fit right into the chorus of protests, teasing, and occasional shrieks that were echoing through the hall.

“Pen!” Colin’s voice cut through the noise as he pulled away from the exasperated looking Viscount. His mother and the Viscountess followed a step behind Colin as he eagerly rushed across the hall to greet her family.

“Good evening,” Penelope replied with a shy smile.

“Lady Featherington,” Violet greeted her mother warmly. “I apologize for the rather informal commotion you have caught us in. I’m certain you understand the excitement we are all experiencing today.”

Penelope wasn’t surprised in the least that Colin’s family was so excited for his return home. Though his siblings denied missing him to his face, she had often heard them complain of his absence when she took tea at Number 5. Not to mention the poor Dowager Viscountess, who confided in Penelope nearly every time she saw her about how dearly she missed her third son. It had become such a frequent occurrence that Penelope had begun to fear Violet Bridgerton recognized Penelope’s feelings for Colin.

“Of course Lady Bridgerton, we certainly share your family’s excitement and could not be more grateful that you saw fit to include us in your numbers for this evening.”

Penelope found herself suddenly swarmed by the Bridgerton siblings.

“My, with such an enthusiastic greeting one might think I was the one returning from the continent,” Penelope remarked as she extracted herself from the stranglehold of a hug Hyacinth had engulfed her in. Penelope’s cheeks turned rosy with all the unexpected attention she was getting from the family. Afterall, she had seen a number of them mere days ago when she took tea with Eloise at Number Five.

“It’s no secret which of us they favour more, Pen,” Colin mused.

“Can you blame us?” Gregory teased as he took his turn greeting Penelope.

“Not at all,” Colin conceded. Then with a sheepish smile he extracted Penelope from Daphne’s clutches and placed her arm on his own. “But given the reason for tonight’s festivities, I rather think I am entitled to the lion’s share of Penelope’s attention.”

“Enjoy it while you can,” Benedict smirked, patting Colin’s free arm. “I doubt you’ll retain it once Eloise sees fit to make her entrance.”

Colin shook his head ruefully, all too aware of the truth of the statement.

“Where is Eloise?” Penelope inquired.

“Is she still sulking in her room?” Colin rolled his eyes until he caught Penelope’s frown and schooled his features under her scolding look.

“I thought you said you talked it over with her,” Benedict interjected.

“I did,” Colin replied. “She conceded, but said she would need some time and space to adjust.”

“I shall run upstairs and hasten her along,” Benedict offered.

“No Ben – wait. I’ll do it,” Colin protested.

“She likes me much better than you, Colin,” Benedict smirked.

“Did she say that?” Colin pouted.

“Everyone says that,” Benedict teased. Penelope giggled until Colin turned on her with a mock wounded expression. She smothered her laughter behind a gloved hand and offered an apologetic smile that sparked a twinkle in his eye.

Daphne stepped between her brothers towards the stairs with a positively gleeful look on her face.

“I’ve been wanting to return this favour for years,” the Duchess muttered. “El–OW!”

She yelped in pain, and Penelope watched Colin slyly retract his foot from where it had been planted atop his sister’s slipper.

“Just because you outrank everyone here,” Colin hissed at a volume Penelope only picked up thanks to her years of practice eavesdropping in noisy ballrooms as Lady Whistledown and her proximity to the man in question. “Does not give you leave to act like a fool in front of–”

“Penelope, dear,” Violet interrupted with a kind smile, “Would you mind fetching Eloise from her room? I’m sure she’d love to speak with you and she’ll be much more amenable to being hastened by you than any of her siblings.”

The Dowager Viscountess gave a pointed look to each of the bickering Bridgertons.

Penelope nodded, slipping her hand out from Colin’s arm and trekking the familiar path up the stairs towards Eloise’s bedroom.

“Eloise!” she called gently as she rapped on the door. “Eloise! You must come down to dinner. Our families are waiting.”

No answer came. Not so much as the rustling of skirts.

Afraid her friend had fallen asleep, Penelope sighed and slowly creaked the door open, letting a thin shaft of light illuminate the bed before her. It was empty and still pristinely made up. Lighting the candle that sat atop the dresser beside the door, Penelope slipped into the room. It was tidier than she had ever seen it. As though Eloise had tidied up all the stray possessions that normally littered the room no matter how often the maids tidied up. No waylaid books. No garments strewn across the floor. No Lady Whistledown pamphlets scattered across her desk. In fact there was only a single crisp piece of parchment on the desk. As though Eloise wanted to make sure it was found and read.

Penelope must have read the letter a hundred times trying to make sense of it before she was interrupted.

The light rap at the door nearly gave Penelope a heart attack. Her heart only further raced when Colin’s voice called out from the other side.

“El? Pen?” he called.

Penelope rose from her seat on the bed and opened the door to face him.

“Colin–”

“Sorry. You were taking so long, I got restless.”

“Eloise isn’t–”

“I know you two have lots to talk about, but the rest of our family is waiting.”

“They sent you to fetch us?”

“Well, strictly speaking, no.”

“Then why are you–”

Colin’s stomach grumbled loudly in answer to Penelope’s unfinished question and he smirked sheepishly. If she weren’t so worried she would have laughed. As it was, a small smile still managed to slip through before she schooled her features.

“She’s not here.”

“What?” he frowned.

“Eloise is not here,” Penelope reiterated.

Taking his arm, Penelope pulled Colin into the dimly lit room and closed the door behind him.

“Penelope,” Colin smirked, raising an eyebrow, “It could be thought quite scandalous the two of us–”

“She says she’s fine. Not to worry. That she’ll contact us in a month.” Penelope blurted out. Colin’s smile disappeared, replaced by a look of confusion. “Eloise–your sister–I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, Colin, but well, she left a letter. I believe she has run away.”

“What?” Colin’s brow furrowed, struggling to comprehend the news. “What are you saying?”

She turned back to the room and plucked the letter off of the bed, handing it to Colin. “I’m saying, if I’m reading this right, then this letter–”

They both startled as the door was flung open, Kate and Anthony marching into the room purposefully.

“Colin…Miss Featherington,” Anthony greeted them with an accusatory stare that had Penelope blushing momentarily at the Viscount’s misunderstanding before remembering the justification for the breach of propriety.

“What is the meaning of this?” the Viscountess gasped, unable to keep an amused smirk from her face.

Penelope straightened, snatching the letter back from Colin.

“I’ve been trying to work out the meaning myself,” Penelope waved the letter as she addressed the couple. “I fear if I am reading this correctly. Eloise has run away.”

The group returned to the entry hall where the rest of their families were waiting eagerly for their return.

“She still refuses to emerge?” Violet Bridgerton’s eyes widened at the perceived impertinence of her daughter. The dowager clutched at her skirts and apologized to Penelope’s mother, stepping towards the staircase with intent to fetch her daughter, but Colin stopped her in her tracks and took her gently by the arm as his brother cleared his throat to address the room.

To say the news came as a shock to all was an understatement. Violet Bridgerton swooned, saved from falling to the ground only by her third son’s foresight and steady arms. Her other children and their spouses crowded her immediately, each looking to comfort the matriarch  until the Viscount ordered them to give her space and suggested they all retire to the drawing room where they could discuss the matter further.

Sweeping his mother into his arms, Colin led the way back up the staircase. The Featherington women found themselves swept up in the chaos, being shuffled along with the Bridgertons. Penelope had to wind her way between Kate and Sophie to reach her mother’s side.

“Mama,” Penelope tugged on Portia’s arm. “Perhaps we should–”

“Honestly, on tonight of all nights,” her mother sighed heavily.

“Perhaps we might give the Bridgertons some space and return home for the evening?” Penelope suggested.

Her mother just continued hissing under her breath, “Absolutely ruined–”

Instead another soft but firm hand fell on Penelope’s arm. “I appreciate your concern for privacy, Penelope, but it is no imposition,” Kate insisted. “I am certain my husband would like to have a word in private with Lady Featherington once we start to develop a plan.”

Penelope nodded her assent although she couldn’t imagine how speaking to her mother would help this situation.

“And as for yourself, I believe your presence is more appreciated than ever,” Kate squeezed her arm fondly. “No one knows Eloise better than you and perhaps you can shed some light on what in the world she is thinking.”

“I’m afraid I haven’t–”

“She may not have confided her plans to you, but perhaps you have or can find other clues that may help us. But more than that, I believe your presence would be a comfort to all of us at this time, Penelope.”

“Yes,” Penelope murmured. “Of course. If there’s any way I can be of help.”

When the room had calmed and the matter had been discussed at length, nearly all the Bridgertons and Penelope doing their best to speculate on any slight hints that Eloise might have alluded to that could help shed some light on the situation, the Viscount requested his brothers prepare leave at a moment’s notice and interrogate the staff about anything they might have seen. Colin hesitated as he left the room. He looked to Penelope and she offered him what she hoped to be a reassuring smile. 

“Do you think he’s handsome?”

Penelope flinched and turned a violent shade of red at Prudence’s whispered ask. She counted her blessings that this one time her sister had seen fit to use a hushed tone. While she was still entirely mortified, at least her sister hadn’t drawn the attention of any of the Bridgertons.

“Who?” Penelope feigned ignorance.

Prudence narrowed her eyes.

“The man she ran away with,” she elaborated.

Penelope shook her head, her curls bouncing as she did. “How do you know she ran away with a man?”

“What other reason could one possibly have for running away?” Prudence scoffed.

“There are plenty of other reasons that one might run away,” Penelope chided with a roll of her eyes.

“Name one,” Prudence challenged.

Penelope’s brain faltered.

“Espionage!” Hyacinth chirped, startling the sisters from where she stood behind the chesterfield.

Before more could be said, the Viscount requested a word in private with Lady Featherington and the room fell quiet.

“I assure you Lord Bridgerton, you will have the utmost discretion from me and my family on this matter,” Penelope heard her mother assure the Viscount as the pair walked away. “Given my daughter’s association with your family I understand it is key to everyone involved that not a soul find out about this.”

Penelope’s nerves were on edge the whole time her mother was gone. She sat anxiously next to Prudence on a sofa, trying her best to disappear and leave the Bridgertons to comfort each other even as she desperately wanted to cross the room and hug the Dowager Viscountess. Instead she sat deep in thought, mind spiralling trying to figure out what in the world Eloise was thinking. 

How could she have not known this was coming?

She was Lady Whistledown. She was supposed to know everything that was happening in the Ton. Yet, she had been blind to such a momentous scandal that must have been developing right before her eyes.

Eloise was her best friend. Yet, she had missed this. She thought back to all the times she had been frustrated that Eloise had overlooked Penelope. All the time her friend had spent looking for Lady Whistledown while the obvious answer had been right in front of her if she had bothered to listen. Had Penelope been just as neglectful as of late?

Eloise had improved, becoming a more attentive friend once Penelope had told her the truth when Eloise found herself under threat from the Queen. She made a point of listening to Penelope and their time spent together had begun to feel like actual conversations and not just lectures Penelope was in attendance for. In fact sometimes Penelope feared her friend had become too attentive. While she had disclosed the secret of Lady Whistledown, Penelope had started to wonder if Eloise was on to the secret Penelope held even closer to her heart as she increasingly brought up Colin in conversation in spite of him being abroad.

With Eloise’s disappearance, Penelope had to wonder if she had grown complacent in her friendship with Eloise. Had she missed glaring hints and clues that Eloise was planning to run away? Or had her friend been especially careful to conceal her plans, knowing how perceptive Penelope could be? Penelope couldn’t even hazard a guess at where Eloise might run to.

“Penelope,” Violet Bridgerton called to her when the perceptive matriarch’s gaze landed on her, pulling Penelope from her thoughts. Penelope teared up as her eyes met their mirror in the mother of the Bridgertons. In them she saw a shared brew of uncertainty, fear, concern, and guilt.

“Oh, dear. Come here,” Violet beckoned with open arms as the tears began to stream down Penelope’s face.

Penelope stumbled across the room falling into the seat beside Violet and instantly finding herself embraced in the woman’s warm, comforting arms.

“I didn’t know,” Penelope blubbered. “I didn’t see this coming.”

“I know dear,” Violet reassured her. “It’s alright.”

“I always know,” Penelope shook her head. “How did I miss something this important?”

Violet pulled back so she could meet Penelope’s watery gaze. “You mustn’t be too hard on yourself darling. Even Lady Whistledown could not have seen this coming.”

Penelope sniffled and wiped at her tears.

“Here,” Violet offered Penelope a handkerchief. “I’m blessed to have so many caring sons and son-in-laws, but five is too many handkerchiefs even for an occasion such as this.”

Penelope offered a watery laugh, accepting the offer and drying her eyes before running her fingers over the embroidered initials in the corner. CB. She smiled fondly.

“Thank you,” Penelope replied.

Violet nodded sympathetically. “I know this wasn’t what you were expecting when you accepted Colin’s offer, Penelope, but I can’t express how glad I am that you are here with us for this.”

“Of course,” Penelope murmured, taking the matriarch’s hand. It wasn’t the celebratory dinner she had expected when Colin extended the invitation, but even at a time such as this, there was nowhere in the world she would rather be than the Bridgerton drawing room. “If there is any way I can help…”

“I know, dear,” Violet nodded, patting Penelope’s hand as her voice trailed off.

When the Viscount and her mother returned, Penelope expected they would be bidding their farewell to the Bridgertons. The thought of leaving the family in this state and trying to sleep with no answer of where Eloise had gone or the nature of her departure left a pit in Penelope’s stomach. So when the Dowager Viscountess suggested perhaps Penelope could stay and search Eloise’s room in hopes of finding some clues as to what had occurred, Penelope leapt at the opportunity. In a thinly veiled scheme to stay up past her bedtime and not miss any of the drama, Hyacinth volunteered to help Penelope.

“I do love a good mystery,” the teenager remarked as the two ventured upstairs to play detective. “I hope Eloise hasn’t made it too easy for us.” 

After having thoroughly ransacked Eloise’s room and returning it to its natural cluttered state with the help of Hyacinth, Penelope was able to procure a stack of letters that were hidden away in a false drawer in her friend’s desk. Hyacinth had been the one to uncover it. The young girl took a great deal of pleasure inspecting every facet of the furnishing of the room and uncovered a small knob at the back of Eloise’s writing desk that revealed a hidden panel.

“It’s so like Eloise to waste a perfectly good hiding place on a bunch of letters,” Hyacinth sighed, pulling a stack of letters from the compartment. “God forbid she hide priceless jewels or something of worth for me to find.”

Penelope gasped when she read the first of the many letters.

“Sir Phillip Crane?” Hyacinth read over her shoulder.

“Oh goodness,” Penelope covered her mouth.

“Should I recognize that name?” Hyacinth inquired, but Penelope was already on her way out the door, letters clutched tightly in hand.

“ Crane, Crane…Crane? ” Penelope muttered to herself trying to comprehend how Eloise could have possibly found herself in such a predicament. “Really?”

She raced through the halls in search of the Viscount, and took a corner so tightly she crashed straight into Colin.

The stack of letters flew from her hands as she collided face first into his sturdy chest. The papers flew to her feet, a handful of them flitting between the bannisters and spiralling to the tile of the entrance hall below.

Before Colin had the chance to steady her, she dropped to her knees, scrambling to gather all the letters which were still within reach.

“Fancy running into you here,” Colin remarked good naturedly.

Penelope emitted an unamused groan in response. When she didn’t so much as look at him, Colin dropped to his knees beside her.

“Pen?” he prodded as she continued to compile the letters, not sparing him so much as a glance. “Pen?” he repeated, covering her hand with his own and stilling her instantaneously. The feeling of his hand on her own – not separated even by fabric as they were both ungloved – startled her, stealing her attention from the letters. She looked up at him with wide eyes as he inquired sincerely, “Pen, forgive me. I didn’t mean to be so cavalier. Are you alright?”

Penelope nodded, still a little stunned and shaken by the way his touch made her blush from head to toe. “I’m fine, Colin. But the letters –”

She forced herself to pull her hand from his grasp and return to the task at hand.

“Right” Colin replied, only then taking in the strewn letters. He helped gather a few, handing them to Penelope to add to the stack.

Just when Penelope thought they had all of the ones that had not fallen over the balcony, Colin leaned towards her, his arm outstretched. Penelope froze at the sudden proximity as his fingers brushed the hem of her skirt. They grazed the skin of her leg as he plucked a letter from where it was pinned beneath her shin.

She held her breath as his eyes drifted from the letter to meet her gaze, holding it for three heartbeats before she came to her senses and bolted to her feet.

Colin cleared his throat and followed her lead, rising and handing her the letter to add to the stack in her hand. Once his hand was freed of the burden, it scrambled to his hair as though he didn’t know what to do with it.

“Are these El’s?” He inquired.

“Yes, we found them in her room,” Penelope replied. A hint of wariness encroached into her tone as she anticipated his next question.

“Do we know who she was writing to?”

Penelope hesitated. She observed Colin as his shoulders tensed, bracing for her answer.

“Sir Phillip Crane…” Penelope disclosed.

“Crane?” Colin repeated, unable to mask his shock. “As in…”

“Lady Crane’s husband,” Penelope confirmed. “I’m sorry, Colin. I have no idea what business she has writing to the widower of your former fiancée.”

“Are the letters romantic in nature?” Colin asked with no small hint of confusion.

“I only skimmed a few, but it appears so.” Penelope handed him the one on top and watched on as he gave it a cursory read.

“I suppose you weren’t the only one penning letters to a gentleman over the last few months,” Colin prompted when he had finished..

“It appears so.” Penelope agreed, her words coming out in a nervous staccato. “Though I admit I am a little put out that she never shared this with me.”

“Did you share our letters with her?”

Penelope shook her head, “Well, no. But one can hardly compare the two.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Colin smirked. “These letters are nowhere near as well written as ours.”

Penelope stifled her laughter. “The point is Eloise must have run away to Sir Phillip’s estate.”

“Yes,” Colin concurred. “She must have fled to Romney Hall. I knew you would figure it out,” Colin lauded, his grin growing brighter. “Imagine trying to keep a secret, knowing your best friend is Lady Whistledown.” He shook his head. “You’re so smart, Pen. Nothing gets by you.”

“Shhh,” Penelope scolded with a finger to her lips. “While I appreciate the sentiment, Colin, I must insist you keep such thoughts to yourself. This whole house is full at the moment and anyone could overhear.”

“Overhear what?” Hyacinth peeped as she rounded the corner, having finally caught up to Penelope. 

Penelope shot Colin a pointed look.

Colin sighed and rounded on his sister. “None of your business. It is between Penelope and I.”

“Perhaps…” Hyacinth paced conspiratorally with her hands behind her back. “But now I am also between you and Penelope.”

She squirmed her way between the pair and wrapped an arm each of them.

Grinning at Penelope with a shit eating smirk so similar to the one which often graced Colin’s face, Hyacinth drawled, “Of course…” She turned the grin to her brother. “I could make myself scarce for a price.”

Colin mirrored her smirk.

Hyacinth continued her negotiation, “A small fee…” She turned back to Penelope. “Or a secret. I can be reasoned with.”

Colin scoffed and shook himself free of Hyacinth, taking a step back from the women.

“I think not.”

Hyacinth’s lips curled into a pout. “Please.”

“No.” Colin said firmly. “In fact, I think it’s time that you went to bed.”

“I can’t very well do that and leave you and Penelope alone.”

“Penelope will escort you to bed.”

“But the letters–” Penelope protested.

“I will take the letters to Anthony,” Colin declared, stepping forward and plucking them from her hands.

Penelope nodded quietly as Hyacinth protested with every breath she could muster.

“It’s not fair. We found them. Trust it to a man to take credit for the wit of women. Eloise would be livid if she were here.”

“If Eloise were here we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Colin reminded her. “I assure you both that you will be properly credited for your discovery. Now off to bed with you.”

Hyacinth followed his direction and turned on her heel in a huff, though she did not go quietly by any means. Penelope hesitated just long enough to watch Colin mouth a silent apology before Hyacinth slammed a nearby door, causing Penelope to jump and take off down the hallway after the teenager.

Penelope listened on as Hyacinth ranted and tried to bargain with her the entire walk to her chambers. As she left Hyacinth in the capable hands of her maids to ready her for bed, the youngest Bridgerton’s voice echoed down the halls, following Penelope as she retraced her steps to the entrance hall.

She hesitated in the vacant hall, trying to determine if it was time to vacate the halls and journey back across the street as her mother and sister had hours before. It felt wrong to leave knowing that Eloise was still absent from the premises.

The siren call of Colin’s voice made Penelope’s decision for her as it filtered into the entrance hall from an open door.

“Is it truly necessary for me to go?” Penelope heard Colin whine as she neared the Viscount’s study. “I haven’t even had the luxury of sleeping in my own bed since returning home and I only just–”

“You’re coming,” the Viscount replied adamantly.

“Can I come too?” fifteen-year-old Gregory requested.

“No,” his eldest brother replied just as firmly.

“Greg can take my place,” Colin offered.

“Yes!” the teen exclaimed. “Colin has taught me to box and I’m getting quite good. I’ll teach this man a lesson.”

“No,” the two eldest brothers replied in unison.

“Oh! I don’t think you’ll have much trouble with Sir Phillip,” Colin brushed off. “He seemed a rather amiable bloke when I met him.”

“A rather amiable bloke who is holding our sister hostage?” Benedict sneered. He was taking the news of Eloise’s disappearance rather hard.                                                   

“I think we both know that’s unlikely to be what is happening,” Colin rolled his eyes. “As though anyone could make Eloise do something against her own will. Let alone Sir Phillip Crane of all people.”

“This is precisely why you must come, Colin,” Anthony insisted. “You’re the only one of us who has been there before. We need your knowledge of the layout to best storm the manor and negotiate with this rake.”

Colin snorted.

Benedict growled, “Would you stop taking this so lightly?”

“I’m sorry,” Colin raised his hands. “I understand the severity of this scandal, but if you had met Sir Phillip, you too would scoff at anyone calling the man a rake.”

“A scoundrel then,” Benedict corrected.

“A deviant,” Anthony added.

“A villain,” Gregory piped in.

Colin just shook his head.

“You’ll do just fine without me,” he insisted. “Besides I couldn’t possibly leave P–”

“You’re not going?” Penelope interrupted, alerting the brothers to her presence.

“Pen!” Colin exclaimed, rising from his seat with a sheepish grin.

“You’re not going?” Penelope repeated, a pout forming on her lips.

“No,” Colin replied with a hint of hesitancy that the answer had not held when he spoke to his brothers. “I only just returned home and from what I know of Sir Phillip, I’m sure this is a misunderstanding, and someone should stay with mother and what with–”

“You’re not going to rescue Eloise?” Penelope approached him, a judgmental look in her eyes. A growing sense of frustration heated her insides.

“Pen,” he protested weakly.

“She’s my best friend,” she bit out, hands fisting on her hips. “Your sister. I would go myself if I could.”

“Pen, I–” Colin spared a moment to glare at his smirking older brothers.

“But I can’t go because I am not a man. Instead I am forced to sit at home with the knowledge that these two hot heads,” she waved a hand in Benedict and Anthony’s general direction. “Are the ones being sent to reason with Eloise. Eloise, Colin! You know as well as I do that she won’t take well to being told what to do. I had hoped at least you might be there to listen to and reason with her in a more fitting manner.”

Colin gulped.

“You speak as if we are going off to war,” Gregory interjected, subtly trying to insert himself back into the rescue of their sister.

“Perhaps you are! Who is to say what might happen!”

“Penelope,” Colin sighed. “You’ve met, Sir Phillip? Have you not?”

“For a few moments,” Penelope conceded, the passion of her argument only continuing to grow. “But anyone can seem cordial for a few moments! Just because you had dinner with the man one evening does not qualify you to be an accurate judge of his character!”

“Pen–”

“Not to mention your brothers are right. You have met Sir Phillip before. You already have some rapport with him. Surely you are the best suited to make this journey.”

“You’re right.”

“And furthermore–” Penelope began before she processed his words. “I’m sorry, what?”

“You’re right. I will go. I will stand in as your willing soldier on the front lines of this crusade to rescue my sister.”

“Oh…excellent.”

“Happy?” he asked, looking between her and his smug older brothers.

“Very,” Benedict agreed.

Colin frowned.

“But if I have to go, Greg must as well.”

A victorious smile broke across the youngest brother’s face.

“No,” Anthony objected.

“Then I’m not going,” Colin said stubbornly.

Anthony groaned.

“Colin–” Penelope began to protest but he cut her off.

“If you want me, Greg comes too. He’s old enough to come. Those are my terms.” He crossed his arms.

“Very well,” Anthony conceded. “But if anything happens to him it’s on you.”

Colin and Gregory both rolled their eyes.

“Go pack your bags,” Anthony commanded.

“Done,” Colin smirked. “I never unpacked.”