Chapter Text
Dear Mr Bridgerton,
Dear Colin,
You wrote to me!
Colin Bridgerton wrote to me?
Colin Bridgerton wrote to Penelope Featherington.
What does one write to a gentleman? And not just any gentleman, but the most handsome, charming gentleman in the ton? My best friend’s brother. The one I have been in love with since I knew what love is.
I cannot do this.
I must do this. It would be ever so rude if I didn’t reply.
What do I say? I must be witty. I must be charming.
BUT I AM NOT WITTY OR CHARMING.
I cannot do this.
Penelope Featherington, are you Lady Whistledown or not?!? Writing is what you do. So proceed as you would if you were writing to an indifferent acquaintance and be done with it. It does not signify since he will never see you as anything other than Eloise’s best friend.
&
Dear Colin,
How kind of you to write and tell me of your travels. Your descriptions of sea bathing were so vivid and unexpected. Of course, a lady could never engage in such an excursion, but it is quite stimulating to imagine it. Your writing allowed me to picture myself there- surrounded by the bluest sea, looking up at the cliffs as I floated in the salty water. The only aspect that I couldn’t conjure was what one wears to sea bathe. Perhaps you could enlighten me? How transported you must have felt! It sounds like a world away from Mayfair and I am so glad that you experienced it.
As for how we fare in England, you have missed very little excitement indeed, aside from the usual house parties that occur in the summer. I have had the pleasure of being invited to Aubrey Hall by your dear sister and am enjoying Lady Bridgerton’s hospitality exceedingly. I acquitted myself fairly well at Pall Mall, although Eloise was little help. Despite being her dearest friend for years she refused to provide even the slightest hints regarding strategy. You will think it very wicked of me, but as revenge I made it a point to knock her ball into the lake at the next opportunity.
Perhaps you would be so kind as to enlighten me regarding a winning technique when we next meet? Or have you inherited the ruthless competitiveness that your siblings share? What a dark thought, indeed. If that is the case, I regret to inform you that I will not submit without a fight, so prepare yourself.
You are dearly missed by your family but I know how pleased they are that you are well and happy. I bid you safe travels.
Sincerely,
Penelope Featherington
&
Dear Pen,
The true kindness is your reply as it is always so good to hear from you. Thank you for your note of my inadequate description! I shall remedy it, post haste. It seems I have done a poor job of fully describing the experience, and do not wish to rob you of any details. You see, what one wears to sea bathe is akin to what one wears for any other form of bathing, at least, for me. What is it you would wear? Though it is not the same, perhaps picturing it would be best submerged more fully.
It does not surprise to hear that you excelled at Pall Mall. Wickedness is much the point, I delight to inform you, and I have secured my own string of victories through sabotage. I must admit, I had not thought you a very naughty girl, in the past. It seems my view of you is altering, though I am pleased at what I see.
Were we to meet on the battlefield, I am certain you would put in the utmost effort to best me, coming out on top. Be warned, as well, though you intend to put up such a struggle in the gleam of my competitive nature, I am not so easily swayed. I can be firm when need be, Miss Featherington, as you shall come to discover. In the nature of sportsmanship, how best should I prepare myself, then? Or, would you rather learn how you will come to submit?
It is good to know I am missed. Surely by more than my family?
As I travel and discover, perhaps so may you. There is a secret I keep within Aubrey Hall that I shall divulge to no other but you: the missing green ball, very akin to the shade of your dress worn during my farewell dinner, is hidden. Where, you ask? Beneath the answer to this riddle:
The more you take, the more you leave behind. What am I?
Happy Hunting,
Colin
&
Dear Taunting Sir,
How shall I respond to such clear provocation? I have no need to learn how to submit, for I certainly never shall. You have exposed your own weakness by admitting that you never expected my wickedness. How can you hope to best me when you severely underestimate how cunning I can be? I suppose I will keep my own counsel at present, for I am now determined to beat you when next we meet at Pall Mall. I give you leave to begin imagining how you will beg for my mercy– who knows? Perhaps I shall be charitable that day and grant it.
I appreciate your commitment to accuracy in your description of sea bathing, but I can see you possess an equal commitment to teasing me. Your family is most fortunate in that the grounds at Aubrey Hall include a magnificent lake. Were you aware that very few members of the household rise early, and even fewer venture into the gardens before breakfast? A determined houseguest may take advantage of the quiet to test for themselves the claims of others about appropriate bathing costumes. Refreshing indeed, and the experience could only be improved upon by the addition of a companion. A word of advice? You may wish to be more careful of what you say, for you never know when I may choose to interpret it as a challenge or issue one of my own.
Despite my need to scold you for your impertinent letter, I must thank you for your assistance in finding the missing green ball beneath the staircase. You would have treasured the affronted expression on Lord Bridgerton’s face when it made an appearance. All of your siblings rather thought I was a sorceress come to spoil their carefully laid strategies. It seems you are not the only member of your family to assume that a demure demeanor hides a mild disposition. The element of surprise worked entirely to my advantage.
I wish you pleasantly long days basking in the Greek sun and hope you are taking notes on your travels so you may share them with me upon your return. Meanwhile, I will bask in the ultimate satisfaction: that I am,
Your victorious Pall Mall champion,
Penelope A. Featherington
&
Dear Colin,
I plead with you to disregard my prior letter. I must have been knocked on the head by the Mallet of Death and was not in my right senses.
Of course I would never admit to stripping myself bare and bathing in your family’s lake! That would be absurd! Please forgive my foolish scribblings as the work of an addled mind.
Yours in regret deeper than the lake,
Penelope Featherington (although I am considering changing my name and moving to the Americas depending upon your response to my last)
&
Dear Co-Champion,
In reading your utter refusal of submission, I will delight in proving you wrong, for though I did not expect such wicked ways from you, I am now older and wiser and all the better for it. It seems I have uncovered your weakness as well, for you seem rather giddy at the idea of wishing me to beg. What you do not know of me, my dear, is that my appetite for mischief is never sated, and so, I will indulge you, for I do not think you know what you are truly asking of me.
One might beg the way one asks for forgiveness, as I imagine you will once I best you: on your knees. Or, rather, on mine, as this is your fantasy, after all. From this vantage point, you would finally be granted the delightful ability of looking down upon me. Is it a good view? What is it you’d wish for me to say? Perhaps: please, oh, please, Pen?
Having me in such a position, what would you ask for? Do not deny it, I am well aware that you are merciful at cost. It is something I rather enjoy about you. As you ponder, know that I will strike when you least expect it.
Another enjoyment: how you have risen to my bait, much as a fish upon a hook, and landed yourself in the hot water of the lake. Was it not fun? Rest assured, this is merely another thread that connects us. The waters there are long familiar with my form in similar outfits of bathing. It is a pleasing thought to realize this is yet another secret we two are to share, is it not: that the water there has touched us both? It is only a pity I was not there physically, and merely in your thoughts. Do not threaten me with a good time, for I do hope you take much of what I write as a challenge. Is there one you feel merciful enough to bestow upon me? (Please, oh please?)
In many ways, though you were quite clever in decoding the riddle, and even more clever to utilize your prize to best such an adversary, it is I who helped assure your victory. As I am rather gracious, we may be Co-Champions. What is that? Yes, I do hear your ‘thank you’s, even from here! Scolding? What is this scolding of which you speak? I, for one, delight in our correspondence, even if it is with a sorceress. As a token of my appreciation, enclosed in this letter is a pressed bellflower or campanula. I thought of you when I picked it, for I realized we had been mirrored in our positions within the lake. The myth goes that it is known as Venus’ looking glass, and that when looking upon it, one sees only beauty.
There is much luxuriating beneath the rays here, yes, but they are scorching, now, as I have recently taken to climbing the mountains! It is a ‘peak’ experience if there ever was one. Though, I do hope there is limited peeking, as the sun becomes so unbearable, one can no longer abide the propriety of a waistcoat, nor sleeves. Are there any forms of decorum you, too, disregard?
Getting my slopes up,
Colin
&
Dear Colin,
Are you…flirting with me?
It could not be. You do not see me in that manner. It is impossible.
And yet…you mention both of us in varying states of undress with alarming frequency.
I have never spoken to a gentleman on such topics, and I am unsure of how to proceed. Do you wish for me to engage in flirtation as well?
Kindly advise,
Penelope
&
Colin Bridgerton!
You are a rake! A cad!
(You are also incredibly handsome.)
How scandalous to write a lady regarding such matters. You practically encouraged me to imagine you unclothed!
(I have previously considered your form in such an improper state on many occasions, but that is besides the point.)
Do I dare write back to you freely?
It would be unbecoming. It would be unladylike. It would be–
most enjoyable.
&
My humble servant,
Let me set the scene, for I find it a delicious one indeed and I intend to savor it. You kneel before me, throwing yourself upon my tender mercies, and I stand surveying you sternly. I must not relieve your suspense too quickly you see, but draw it out and pull it taut until you fear it will snap at any moment.
I have spent most of the summer with your family and it has been highly educational. The most important lesson I have learned is that you Bridgerton men require a firm hand, else you become difficult to manage indeed. It pains me, but I must make you wait a moment more if I wish for you to remain penitent. When I feel you are properly meek, then I will allow you back into my good graces at the cost of three favors, to be revealed when I deem it beneficial to me. Upon vowing your agreement, you may rise, and even remain in my presence if you ask politely. I think a “please, oh please, Pen” would do very nicely if you wish to help your cause.
I admit I am not prone to mercy at the present time, as you have confessed to laying a trap for me. Fortunately for you, I find I enjoy my morning exercise exceedingly and I have no desire to stop until our return to London requires it. How bold of you to assume that I would allow you to join me if you were here.
I suppose we know now that I am susceptible to begging; it only remains to be seen if you are skilled at it. As you will be traveling for the foreseeable future and I shall remain here, I suppose we will never really know what could happen in the shared waters of the lake. Instead, I must imagine you away, atop a mountain, sweltering in the heat. Meanwhile I will be here, languishing in the cool waters of your ancestral home.
Oh, and as to your question of the forms of decorum I abandon when it suits my purpose? I am afraid that while the flower you sent is lovely and has been pressed into my favorite book, the price of such knowledge is much higher than that. You wished for a challenge, so consider this yours: if you can discover my greatest secret, you will know how very wicked I can be.
What was it you said in closing? Ah yes–
Happy hunting,
Pen
&
My Lady, Mistress Penelope,
Just as you find yourself submerged within the lapping water of the lake, I, too, find myself engrossed within the scene you paint. I see you have thought of it in earnest, and as I do, as well, I must amend several moments.
Firstly, you do not mention the pleading glance which I will give you from my spot before you, upon my knees as though praying. I am not a particularly religious man, though I implore your holy sacrament. Oh, please, bright, merciful, lovely Pen: have I not worked diligently to earn your leniency? I have been told I am most adept at innocent expressions. Was it not you who once glanced upon me when I asked for a biscuit from your plate and relented in but a moment? Has your heart hardened so swiftly? How you wound me!
I see my error now. I should never have admitted to such a trap. Yes, I see, I must repent for such a grievance. Perhaps you shall be swayed by praises? You are most clever, most right, most understanding, indeed. Surely, a woman so pragmatic and intelligent, so witty and with the keenest blue eyes spearing through me would be prone to clemency? No? Perhaps it is bribery, with which you seek, then.
I shall do anything, Pen. Tell me of your favors. I shall work rather tirelessly at them, you see, even upon my knees. Perhaps I shall perform them best so when I am kneeling before you, in fact. I will be most diligent to you and your needs: you will see, I have a festering belief that I’ve a talent at pleasing you. I can see you now, how you soften. I am not yet finished, though I can detect the pinch at the corners of your lips, indicating I am entertaining you so.
Oh, most stringent governess of mine, I grasp your hands, for perhaps touch may sway you. Though it is rather naughty, you must realize I have been rendered rather desperate in light of the gravity of you. Perhaps a kiss upon your knuckles, your palm, your wrist? I shall look up, blink so sweetly, smile tender and soft as I ask once more; Please?
You must understand, though you intended to be the victor, it is I who has won. Do you not see? This view is most lovely, in particular that I do not frequently find myself looking up at you nor are my eyes so perfectly at your. Furthermore, this new knowledge of you is intriguing and shining. You are the Pen I most enjoy speaking with, yet there is a hidden glint of you in each of your letters. It is thrilling.
Is this my being bold? Ah, forgive me, it seems I am getting ahead of myself. Water you doing in the lake? Merely luxuriating? If there is a more enjoyable activity to whet your appetite, I have it on good authority that I am most pleasant in company. At the very least, I shall go with your flow.
You are a woman of many secrets. Can I not tempt you for a hint? If one flower is not enough, perhaps a second, for but a simple glimpse into the depths of you? I am learning much of you and it has been an enlightening education. I believe it to be a subject I shall most excel at. Included is a crocus, the coloring of which reminded me most of you, from the pale, delicate petals, to the cheerful yellow insides, and, best of all, the fierce red surprise at the center.
Firm hand though you may have, I am but an innocent, and ask you treat me most gently.
For now.
In obedience,
Colin
&
Boldest jester,
While I should know better than to admit any weakness to you, knowing as I do that you will likely turn your knowledge to mischief, I am inclined to agree that you have a talent for pleasing me. You are entirely too audacious in your letters to do otherwise; for I dearly love to laugh and I find nothing more humorous than your unconvincing contrition. If Eloise heard you flirting so unrepentantly, she would have your head. It is fortunate for you that your shameless apology has earned my favor— I will keep your secret and you can keep your body and mind in one piece.
This brings to mind the first of the three favors I would ask of you. Were you aware that I dearly love a good secret? I wonder, would you tell me one of yours? I wish to know something of your travels that you have not shared with another soul, not even your elder brothers. I promise that my discretion is absolute. Just one window into the freedom that is yours would be enough to sustain me when I feel confined in this small world we call Mayfair.
As for my secret, you hold it within your hands if only you care to look closer. It is truly astonishing what is hiding in plain sight. I have learned that few can see beyond their own first impressions. I have a notion that you are different however. How many would look past the flower’s delicate petals to find what lies underneath? It is beautiful by the way, and I thank you for your thoughtfulness in sending it along for me to admire.
Many say that your brother Benedict is the artistic member of the family, and, while I would never minimize his talents, I believe you rival him in your eye for beauty and ability to paint with words. I dearly hope that you are memorializing your travels on the page, as I know many besides myself would benefit from reading your reflections. I am very fortunate indeed that you allow me these glimpses into the places that few are invited to tread.
I recall that you are planning to depart soon and so it may be some time before we write again. Please travel safely, and be assured that your secret keeper is awaiting your next letter eagerly.
Yours in places both hidden and known,
Pen
&
Mysterious Maven,
I shall take your opening line of being a your jester as a compliment. It’s a lucrative career, I am told. It is good to be assured that my talents are true. Next, you may simply say you are pleased with me, as I rather like pleasing you, I have found. Other things I have found are less so. For example, do tell me why my dearest younger sister is unaware of my correspondence with you? She sends missives outlining what you do as though I am unaware. Could it be that you are keeping the entirety of me as a secret, as well? Surely not.
You wish to know a secret of mine? I do not have many, but those I do have are rather near to me. However, you are the most captivating secret-keeper. I trust you. You were correct, I am no longer in Crete. The journey was difficult, as it was done predominantly alone. There was a rather perilous climb in which the donkey decided, rather firmly, it did not like me.
Once, you told me I could charm anything: it seems you were wrong. I believe I turned the trail more into a slide, and I regretfully inform you that I skid my way down the path more than walked it. Though I intended not to share this with anyone, I do trust that, for the reward of your laughter, you will keep your promise of discretion. Included is a patch of my shirt, for proof. I boarded the boat with but one sleeve, alas. It appears I was not well *armed* for the travel, after all.
You certainly are an intriguing woman, Penelope. I hold it within my hands? And must look closer? Are they the letters? Could it be that your secret is that you are, in fact, a stern governess in truth and not simply in jest? Or that you are a writer of some sort? You surely write often, for the nature of your letters are rather polished. Perhaps your secret is simply that there is much more of you that I have not discovered. I shall guess again, as we continue with our correspondence. Unless I am correct?
I am not so good an author to pen much of my travels. Though I do keep a journal, as most do, within it are merely facts and snippets. I am, however, pleased that you enjoy reading my accounts.
Jingling for Entertainment,
Colin
&
Most perceptive and infuriating man,
I did not expect you to guess so quickly! Or perhaps I knew you would, and I dreaded it and hoped for it in equal measure. If ever there were someone I could speak to about Lady Whistledown, it is you. I am sure of it. It is true that you can make me laugh like no one else, but when we speak seriously, no one listens to me more attentively.
I am mad even to consider it, however, What purpose would it serve, other than to create more risk of my identity’s exposure? Now I must simply consider how best to evade you, even though you are the one person I never truly wish to evade. My heart always wants to be found, no matter how foolish it may be.
Yours in utter foolishness and daydreams,
Penelope
&
Dear Pen,
Why is it that reading from you “yours, Pen” was so delightful? I fixated upon it longer than I believe would be proper. Though, not much of our correspondence is proper, in the first place, a fact I am certain we are both aware of.
Mine.
My Penelope.
Hidden and known. My Penelope is hidden and known. My hidden Penelope. My known Penelope.
It is too good. Did you know, Eloise’s letters are endless? They go on for ages, fitting all that has happened between the long yawns of time within them. She does not write often. Most do not.
You do.
My Penelope.
Yours,
Colin
&
Dearest Pen,
I apologize for sending a second letter before your response. It is simply that
I am here, alone, in Paros, and the darkness is unlike any other once the sun recedes. I wonder if you, too, are awake, and thinking of me as I am thinking of you. It has been good to have constant correspondence with you throughout my travels, and we have been writing to one another for some time, so forgive the familiarity, but it is in the darkness that I feel most animal, as though the nature of man strips aside with the day.
I wrote to you of a silly story in my last message, but you deserve more. You asked of me a secret? I enjoy so much laying in the dark this way, free of propriety and rules. I do not much enjoy following them. They stifle me, make me feel as though I am not my true self, and must instead masquerade a role that does not fit me. Do you ever feel the same?
I find myself pondering tossing settling upon my cot, thinking of you, even as I pen this letter. The candlelight flickers and reminds me of your hair- the looping licks of red, as though aflame. Do any such things bring to your mind an image of me, as well?
It is good, you see, for a thing to remind one of home. Else there is a weight upon the chest, and that is most unseemly a feeling in the dark when alone. As such, I will soon extinguish the candle and lay to rest, your presence lingering- though I feel it is a comforting weight, that, to feel in the night.
Sincerely,
Colin