Chapter Text
'Cause you got her on your arm and me in the wings
I'll get your longing glances, but she'll get your ring
And you will say you had the best of intentions
And maybe I will finally learn my lesson
💛💙
"May I have everyone’s attention? I would like to make an announcement!” Colin announced from the centre of the garden party. Marina stood stoically, beside him.
Penelope watched from the outskirts, blending in perfectly with the pristine hedges as she normally did at social gatherings. She would usually be trying to garner every morsel of gossip she could so she would have some sort of column to publish under Lady Whistledown. Still, today was different, today Colin seemed different and it piqued her curiosity.
Especially since Marina was standing right beside him. Her dainty hands perched in the crook of his arm. She was smiling up at him as if he were her dutiful knight in shining armour, but Penelope could see that her smile did not reach her eyes even from a distance.
“I have happy news to impart.” Colin continued, while Penelope’s eyes flickered between the two.
No.
No this could not be.
“I have asked Miss. Marina Thompson to be my wife and she has accepted.” He reported, his back straightening, and his lips turning into a proud smile.
But for Penelope, her entire world was crumbling. Her heart smashed into a thousand tiny pieces, littered all over the floor.
Marina had bested her. She had won Colin in an ugly game orchestrated by her own Mama.
While her world was falling apart she thought she heard Lord Bridgerton hiss to his own Mama if she knew of any of this. However, she did not hear Lady Bridgerton’s reply because the ringing in her ears had increased. Her breathing had accelerated to uneven levels. Her chest heaved up and down as she stumbled back and tried to grasp any normalcy around her.
She could not be there.
She needed to leave.
She could not watch the man that she had loved so dearly marry someone who was using him for his name, for protection from her own ruinous doings.
Marina was using him and he was none the wiser. It killed her but she could not watch it unfold before her eyes.
A hasty decision was made in her spiralling demise.
She ran from the garden party without a backwards glance.
The tears that she had expected to fall rolled hot and angry down her cheeks, anger simmering for her own family for making Colin look like a fool.
Colin, the man that held her heart since the first day they met.
💛💙
She found the Featherington’s awaiting carriage and climbed into it, not before ordering the footman in control of the reigns to make haste.
He had looked astounded at her command, but he soon registered her appearance, her red-rimmed eyes and blotchy face and nodded curtly. Penelope had always been kind to their employees so it was a relief when they offered her the same in return.
When they arrived at the Featherington estate she dashed up the steps into the foyer. She frantically searched the area for any sign of Varley but found it empty. It seemed luck was on her side.
“Ms Featherington, are you alright?” One of the footmen called after her, concerned for her well-being. She paused, turning to him so she could direct him back to the garden party so her Mama, Marina and her sisters would not be left to the gallows, and she would be rid of his pitiful look gazing back at her.
“I will be quite alright, Alfred.” She lied, her tone was clipped and even, her eyes fighting off his unwavering gaze.
She then nodded curtly again, and hurried up the steps. Taking two at a time, bunching her skirts in an unladylike fashion so she did not lose her footing.
She reached her bedchamber, slamming the door behind her, her breathing shaky.
Her eyes landed on the floorboards beside her bed.
She scurried forward, sliding onto her knees, ripping the wood away. She stared blankly at the previously published Lady Whistledown papers stacked neatly to one side of the small hiding place.
Her eyes skimmed past them and landed on the small fortune she had accumulated from publishing the ton’s gossip.
She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath.
She could not watch Colin be deceived by her family. She would never forgive herself.
Before her mind could catch up with her and impact her to make the right decision by confronting Colin first and letting him know about Marina’s condition, about how her heart lies with another, she grabbed the Whistledown stack, snatched the blank parchment and unused quills and ink pots and held them tight to her chest as she got up from her crouched position.
Tears were still spilling down her face as she threw the objects onto the bed so she could rummage in her dresser for a reticule of some kind.
She managed to find a large enough reticule to stuff her belongings into.
She sobbed loudly as she packed her only accomplishment in life away into a tiny bag. The one thing she was proud of. The one thing she could claim as hers and hers alone. She would never have Colin, no matter how much she dreamed and how hard she wished, he would never be hers.
Marina would have his last name but at least Penelope would still have Lady Whistledown.
She grabbed her blue cloak, and wrapped it around her body, concealing herself since it was still daylight. She would sneak out of the back garden, walk a few miles down the street and find a hack to hire. No one noticed her, she would be fine.
That hack would take her as far away from this rancid place as far as she could afford and she would start a new life, perhaps somewhere in the country.
Her family would not even notice her absence. The way they faired when she was in their presence was enough to establish that truth.
Her Mama would only have to worry about marrying off two daughters.
Moreover, her Papa would only have to worry about two dowries.
She was doing this for everyone really. Everyone would be better off.
Everything would be fine.
A sob rattled her chest as she covered her auburn curls with the hood of the cloak.
Everything would be perfectly splendid.
💛💙
“It was a most remarkable announcement, so brazenly public. He cannot turn back now.” Portia praised Marina as they returned from the garden party.
“We shall have a celebratory dinner in your honour for your efforts at securing Colin Bridgerton as a husband!” Portia added, delight punctuated in every word.
“Wherever did Penelope go?” Marina questioned, glancing up the steps leading towards their bed-chambers, slightly concerned for her cousin considering she had figured out that Penelope was in love with the man whom Marina had managed to scheme into marriage, only to shatter Penelope's affections with words that could not be taken back.
Marina had been desperate. She was unmarried and pregnant. Colin had shown keen interest in her and since he was nice enough and decent to look at she had to make him the only option.
Sinking her claws in so deep, Penelope had nary a chance to snatch him away.
Marina needed to do it, to secure her future, to secure her unborn child’s future.
Had she felt remorseful for her actions? Not in the slightest, but now, that Penelope was no place to be seen did she feel something akin to guilt.
“She is probably sulking in her bedchamber.” Prudence snickered beside Phillipa, causing Marina to sigh.
“Penelope’s always held Colin Bridgerton in the highest regard, perhaps even harbouring a little crush for him but that is all it would have ever been a silly childhood crush. If he wanted to marry her he would have done so long ago.” Portia pointed out flippantly. Her words caused Marina to wince slightly.
For even Penelope’s Mama knew of her feelings towards the third-born Bridgerton but saw it highly unlikely the two would have ever matched in any way, let alone a love match.
“Come now girls, let’s go get ready for our wonderful dinner.”
💛💙
Varley knocked on Penelope’s door an hour before the family would convene for dinner in the dining room.
She knocked once, twice, thrice.
Only to have Portia slither by and shake her head in Varley’s direction.
“If Penelope wants to have a tantrum over a boy who would never look at her twice, she can stay in there for all I care. She will only bring doom and gloom to the celebration anyway.”
Varley watched as Portia vanished and knocked one more time for good measure.
“I will have a tray sent up for you in a while, Miss Penelope,” Varley advised through the door, unsure if her words reached its intended’s ears.
💛💙
The next morning Varley passed by Penelope’s bedchamber. Her door was still closed, and the tray she’d sent up the previous evening remained untouched.
Varley eyed the tray out suspiciously, whilst she leaned forward to knock on the door.
“Miss, Penelope, are you awake?” She called out, her voice loud enough to travel through the wood.
When there was no reply, Varley peered down the corridor, then up, hesitated momentarily with her hand hovering over the doorknob before she grasped it and opened the door.
“Miss. Penelope?” Varley asked loudly, peering into the room. She looked around, noticing the loose floorboards thrown about haphazardly. Varley took a step further into the room and noticed Penelope’s dresser was wide open, contents thrown about as if she had been searching for something in a hurry.
Varley clocked onto the bed that was still made, the white sheets tucked in securely around the mattress.
Penelope had not been there the entire evening.
Where in the world was she?
Varley took her leave and hurried down the stairs, the dinner tray clutched in her grip. She found Lady Featherington in the drawing room, pouring herself a cup of tea.
“Ma’am, we seem to have a problem,” Varley told her, hurrying the words out as if she was about to lose steam.
Portia breathed out an annoyed sigh.
“I have not even had a drop of tea yet, Varley. What is it?" She queried, although it was a brilliant act for she did not seem concerned in the slightest.
Varley held up the dinner tray, shaking it suggestively as if that held all the answers.
"That is a dinner tray, Varley, what problems could that cause me?"
"This is Miss. Penelope's untouched dinner tray from last night, Ma'am." Varley responded cautiously.
"So, Penelope missed one meal, it would do her some good to lose a few pounds, don't you agree?"
Portia had returned to pouring her tea but paused when Varley did not respond to her statement immediately.
"Do you agree, Varley?" Portia challenged her.
Varley had pursed her lips together tightly because no she did not agree but she could not counteract Lady Featherington's harsh treatment of her daughter, because she was Lady Featherington, the lady of the house, and Varley was only her employee.
Varley decided to avoid the question altogether, continuing with the other matter that seemed more pressing than Penelope losing a few pounds.
Her whereabouts.
"It seems that Miss. Penelope did not sleep on the premises last night. her bed remains intact although there were a few peculiar things amiss, including loose floorboards."
The sound of porcelain tinkling against each other rang through the room as Portia placed her tea cup down in its saucer with force.
"She is not in her bedchamber?"
"No Ma'am."
Portia rose to her feet and made to exit the drawing room, Varley pursuing behind, still clutching the dinner tray.
Portia stormed up the flight of stairs to the landing where Penelope's bedchamber resided. She marched towards the now open door, swung it open further and entered the room.
Her eyes flickered over the upturned floorboards, trailed over the bed and then darted towards the open dresser.
"Hmm." Portia hummed in contemplation, exiting the room and making her way back down the stairs towards the front door.
"I will bring the drama queen back whether she likes it or not," Portia muttered more to herself than to Varley but Varley leaned in closer.
"Where do you suppose she is Ma'am?"
"Bridgerton House."