Chapter Text
As she saw Colin for the first time in several months, returning home from his travels, Penelope’s heart began to race. She was angry at herself for reacting this way, as though he had not spoken those cruel words aloud for the entire ton to hear.
She knew well enough what people thought of her. She had long been a laughingstock, and no one had ever seriously considered courting her. If they had, surely someone would have acted upon it by now. But knowing this did little to soften the blow of hearing it spoken outright, especially from Colin.
"I would never court Penelope Featherington."
No matter how much she tried to convince herself that she was simply angry at him for mocking her so publicly, she knew that was not the true source of her pain. It hurt because, despite everything, she had let herself believe again that he might feel something for her.
She had no right to expect his affections, yet she resented him all the same. He had always sought her out, always told her she was special, yet he still could not see her as a woman? What was so wrong with her that, despite knowing her worth, Colin found the very idea of courting her so impossible to entertain?
And yet, a part of her was relieved. At least now she knew —knew with certainty that Colin Bridgerton would never love her. At least now, she could finally move on. And with Eloise gone as well, she had truly nothing left to lose.
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Penelope started by firmly saying no to her mother when she wanted to order yellow fabrics at the modiste again. Her mother seemed to sense something was amiss, but with Prudence’s wedding on her mind, she did not inquire further.
And then, as they were promenading, Lady Featherington wanted Prudence to show off her new husband so that any gossip about Lord Featherington’s departure and Prudence’s reputation would be silenced. She asked Penelope to smile many times, but Penelope wasn’t in the mood to smile.
So she didn’t.
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Colin enjoyed coming home, being surrounded by his family. Yet, he couldn’t shake the feeling that none of them seemed particularly eager to see him. They loved him, of course—he knew that—but it was as if they didn’t truly enjoy his company. It felt as though they hadn’t missed him at all. He had so many fascinating tales from his travels, but he was certain his family would find them dull.
The only person who ever seemed to take a genuine interest in his travels was Penelope, though for some reason, she had not replied to his letters while he was away. Perhaps there had been a mix-up in the post, or maybe she had been staying somewhere else, and the letters never reached her. Colin was determined to clear up the misunderstanding; he certainly wouldn’t want her to think he had forgotten to write.
That’s why, as he walked with his family, he kept a watchful eye for Penelope. When he finally spotted her, he was surprised by how different she seemed. Her dress wasn’t the usual yellow, but there was more to it than that. She seemed taller, somehow more confident, and her expression was not the usual Penelope with a shy smile. If anything, her smile was intimidating.
Intimidating?
Seeing her like that was the final straw. Everything felt different. It bothered him that life continued without pause, as if his absence meant nothing.
Still, it was good to see her again.
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“Pen, it’s good to see you,” Colin said, his voice warm but tentative.
Penelope laughed mockingly. “Is it?”
“Truly, it feels as though I’ve been absent for years instead of months. I’ve missed you.”
Penelope could scarcely believe this man. He would mock her openly and then say such words, as if it were all some jest. Her heart started racing, betraying her again, yet she was determined not to let him see how much his words affected her. She took a deep breath and said,
“Well, sometimes time moves rather quickly,” before turning on her heel, ready to walk away.
Colin was stunned for a moment, taken aback by the reaction he had not anticipated. But he quickly gathered himself and rushed after her, his long strides closing the distance. He reached out and gently took her hand to stop her.
“Penelope,” he said, his voice filled with urgency.
Penelope was furious. She jerked her hand away sharply, her gaze cold.
“Mr. Bridgerton, it is highly improper to hold a lady’s bare hand, but yet again, maybe you do not see me as a lady who deserves respect”.
Colin was more bewildered than ever. His mouth opened in surprise. “Mr. Bridgerton?” he echoed, as if he did not know his own last name. “Pen, is something wrong between us? If you’re angry because I didn’t write to you this summer, I did. There must have been a mix-up in the post. I truly value our friendship.”
Penelope scoffed and laughed, but it was a cold sound, devoid of warmth.
“You think I am angry because I didn’t receive your letters? As a matter of fact, I did.”
Colin’s confusion deepened. “Then why didn’t you respond?”
Penelope met his eyes boldly, and there was no trace of the shy girl he once knew remaining in her expression.
“Well, I just didn’t want to,” she replied, and her words were final. Without another glance at him, she turned away once more, leaving Colin standing there, utterly stunned by her cold dismissal.
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For the first time in her life, Penelope was looking forward to a ball. She had commissioned the loveliest emerald-green gown from the modiste and styled her hair in a fashion quite unlike her usual. A hint of color now adorned her lips and cheeks. Yet, as she regarded her reflection, doubt gnawed at her resolve.
She looked like a clown.
What if she were a clown? Did it matter? She liked how she looked, and for once, that was enough. She would not concern herself with the fickle judgment of the ton. Just this once, she would do this for herself.
As she stepped into the ballroom, a hush seemed to follow her, eyes turning in her direction. All of her instincts urged her to retreat, to seek refuge in some quiet corner, but she resisted. Instead, she met their gazes boldly, unwaveringly. Let them stare. If they had something to say, let them say it. With each astonished glance she encountered, her confidence grew. Her stride became more assured, her posture more regal, her stare almost defiant.
And then she thought of Colin.
Was he here? Had he seen her? She longed for him to witness her transformation, to see her as she was now. But she would not go searching for him as she always had. No, not tonight.
Fortunately, there were many distractions.
Turning slightly, her eyes met those of Lord Fife. He approached with deliberate purpose, his expression unreadable.
“Miss Featherington,” he said smoothly, his gaze sweeping over her, “what a striking gown you have on.”
She had not forgotten that Lord Fife was one of the very men who had laughed at her alongside Colin. And yet, she found she was not angry. Perhaps to be truly angry, one had to care.
She offered him a cool but impeccably polite smile. “Thank you, my lord.”
“May I have the next dance?”
Penelope hesitated. She had believed the gown flattering, but she had not expected its effect to be quite so immediate, least of all on Lord Fife.
She did not much care for him, not least because of the scandals whispered in drawing rooms, many of which she herself chronicled in Whistledown. He was not known for treating ladies with respect; indeed, he had once spent twenty minutes in a closet with Miss Goring. Penelope was not certain what precisely that entailed, but she knew enough to recognize it as highly improper.
Still, she was bored, and she wanted to dance. And as no other offers had yet presented themselves, she inclined her head with an air of indifference.
“Very well, my lord.”
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Colin felt as if the world had turned upside down.
So, Penelope received his letters, but chose not to respond?
He did not believe this to be a possibility. Their friendship was one constant in his life that he could count on. And it seemed like it was in grave danger, if not completely gone.
He did not know what caused this, and he decided to talk to Penelope again as soon as he had the chance. She would probably attend the ball that night. There, he would have the opportunity.
Yet as he entered the ballroom, she was nowhere to be found. He scanned the walls and the quiet corners, the places where she usually stands and observes the crowd, but he could not see her.
He realized that Eloise was not searching for her, as she normally does. Maybe she knew something about this sudden change in Penelope’s behavior. “Sister, have you seen Penelope? Why aren’t you complaining to her about the marriage mart as you usually do?”
A dark shadow passed Eloise’s face. “We are not... “ She swallowed. “We simply… grew apart”.
So maybe that was the reason for Penelope’s behavior. They had a falling out with Eloise.
“What happened?”
Eloise had a blank expression on her face for a while, then she was suddenly surprised by something she saw in the crowd. Colin followed the direction of her gaze, and that was when he finally saw her.
Penelope was in a very unusual dress for her, looking even more confident than he saw her during their promenade. Everyone around her was staring at her, and she was walking among them as if she were the queen herself. The dress suited her well, yet Colin did not think that was the reason for the attention - there was something so commanding in her attitude, everyone around her seemed fascinated.
Then he saw Fife approach her. He clearly was not up to something good. As they started dancing, Colin could not help telling Eloise, “Fife is not a gentleman. You should tell Penelope to be careful. I read in Whistledown that he had spent many minutes in a closet with Miss Goring.”
Eloise had a dark smile again. “Do not worry about Penelope, she can protect herself a lot better than you can imagine. “
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Colin had been trying to approach Penelope all night, but she was never alone. Each time he caught sight of her, she was on the dance floor, her gown swirling as she moved from one dancing partner to the next. It felt like an eternity before she finally stepped away, looking flushed but radiant, making her way toward the lemonade table.
This was his chance.
He strode toward her with purpose, his heart beating faster than he would have liked. As he reached her side, he spoke, keeping his voice as steady as he could.
“May I have the next dance, Miss Featherington?”
Penelope stilled. His voice sent a thrill through her—damn him—but anger quickly followed. How effortlessly he still affected her. How unfair it was. She turned to him with a practiced, detached smile.
“I’m afraid my dance card is full,” she replied coolly.
A dance card? He had danced with her countless times before, never once needing to claim a spot. Instinctively, his gaze flicked downward, trying to make out the names.
There were empty spaces. Several of them.
He found her eyes. She knew that he saw those empty spaces, but instead of being embarrassed at being caught lying, she looked back at him, bold, unshrinking. Her eyes pierced him, and he was stunned by the hostility he found there. He could not bear seeing such hostility in her eyes, not from her, not directed at him.
It broke his heart.
Penelope saw the change in Colin’s expression, and the sadness in his eyes suddenly became too much for her. She felt the urge to take it all back, walk to him, hug him tight. And to console him, to tell him everything is going to be alright.
But she didn’t.
All Colin could manage was a quiet “Excuse me” before he turned and walked away.