Chapter Text
Penelope Featherington had a secret. Truth be known she had many secrets, but this one was one that no one suspected. She was in love with Eloise’s oldest brother Anthony. Penelope knew that everyone thought she had a tendre for Colin, but those feelings had faded as she had gotten older and had passed more seasons in the Ton as a wallflower. Indeed, her feelings for Colin were warm, brotherly but for the most part she didn’t really want to be around him for Colin had changed over these past years, and he had become a man that she didn’t really want to talk to or associate with.
Anthony, on the other hand, was a Man. Unlike Colin he had faced his demons and emerged victorious. The Viscount of the Bridgerton family took no guff from anyone; his decisions were his own and usually final. He was the head of a household, a landowner and member of Parliament – and a capital R rake. It was a blend of personalities that was very appealing to Penelope who was sick of faint-hearted, inconsistent man-children.
Anthony had never really looked at Penelope in any way that wasn’t Eloise’s wallflower best friend, and it hurt Penelope to no end. She was trying to stand out to him more, to show him that she was no longer a girl on leading strings but a marriageable woman out in society. Penelope knew how much Anthony hated the simpering debutantes, the overbearing pushiness they directed towards him under the guise of modesty and shyness and was trying to set herself apart. Truthfully, she couldn’t act like that if she tried. She valued her own dignity too much to simper for any man.
Penelope was trying to think of a way to free herself from Portia Featherington’s cloying, smothering, domineering mothering so that she could live her own life, and perhaps not be mocked for her interests. Not be derided for her taste in clothing. Not be starved so that she could achieve some semblance of what her mother decreed was beauty.
Penelope had to get out. She felt like she was dying every time she had to return to Featherington house, and now with the heir race well underway with her sisters, she knew she had to get out.
Penelope was no fool, she knew living with one of her sisters as the new Lady Featherington would be interminable and she’d likely be kicked out and sent to the country – or worse, Ireland in exile. However, Penelope had been planting seeds and she had two plans – hopefully one of them would work.
The first one involved Lady Danbury and a desperate plea for asylum – before she wound up in one.
The second one involved telling Anthony Bridgerton she was in love with him and wanted to be his wife. Given that he was still living down the mess with the Sharma sisters even a year later and had been unable to catch the eye of any save Cressida Cowper, Penelope thought she might have a chance. She would do what she never thought she could – she would talk herself up in his eyes.
How to put these plans into action though? That was where she got stumped every time. After Cressida came forward with her ridiculous claims to be Lady Whistledown, Penelope had had no choice but to silence her voice and her paper. The Ton was lost without Lady Whistledown, but Penelope was deep into self-preservation mode. The Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers were now going to be published rarely, and carefully.
At every ball, Portia insisted on clinging to Penelope’s side and shoving her at various septuagenarians, convinced Penelope would do no better for a husband. Penelope wanted to tell her mother that perhaps SHE would be a more amenable bride, and she would be able to get rid of the crippling debt that the Featheringtons had to live with due to her father’s gambling habit. With no son to inherit, the cursed Featherington lands could go to some other poor sod.
But Portia was proud in her widowhood and would never consider marrying, not when she could instead wield ultimate power and humiliate her youngest daughter.
Eloise still wasn’t speaking to Penelope as a result of the Lady Whistledown revelation, and other than when she had conveniently turned to Penelope for help, had gone back to being angry and ignoring the wallflower. Penelope didn’t care at this point; she had already come to terms with her and Eloise’s friendship being over. It didn’t matter. She could try to make new friends, but it was so tedious that Penelope was happier on her own terms. It just meant that she had no way to escape her overbearing mother. Or her vapid, poisonous sisters.
Plans. Penelope needed to make plans. Plans were her strong suit.
Tonight was the first ball of the Season at Lady Danbury’s – plan number one would be put into place.
After that…Penelope needed to be brave and talk to Anthony Bridgerton.
Tonight.
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Anthony Bridgerton had a secret. He was a man so of course he had secrets, but this one? This one he kept buried deep inside where it would never see the light of day. After all, he was a man grown with a conscience and no desire to be accused of cradle-robbing or of stealing a best friend. Anthony had been forged in a crucible not of his own making and stood feeling far older than his years. He had fought his secret. Denied it to his last breath. Desperate to rid himself of thoughts and dreams of her. His red-headed, secret obsession.
Anthony Bridgerton was in love with Penelope Featherington.
It had happened so gradually that he hadn’t noticed it at first, starting to notice her in ways that he hadn’t before, listening to what she was saying and how she was saying it, realizing that she was very different from her ostentatious and flamboyant family. She was not a social climber, grasping at the crumbs of the higher peerage like her mother and oldest sister. She was not a vapid lady of the Ton, parroting only the latest in fashion, gossip and whatever she had been fed by her mother. She was, tragically limited in her wardrobe however after listening to several conversations not just between Eloise and Penelope, but his mother, Daphne and Eloise he knew it was not her preference, and she had no say in her own home on how to present herself. Anthony was certain that if Penelope was allowed to present herself the way she wanted to, she would have been snapped up in her first season.
He was a lucky bastard that he hadn’t lost her yet. The men of the Ton were truly blind to not see the treasure that lingered against the walls every ball and wrote the very gossip that they were so addicted to. If Anthony could figure out a way to secure Penelope for himself, he would let her know very gently that he was aware she was Lady Whistledown and offer to be her Lord Whistledown and assist her in her enterprise should she so wish it. He could bring her gossip from Mondrich’s and White’s, gossip no gentle-born lady would ever know or hear and it would keep the Ton on their toes and looking for even more red herrings trying to figure out who the gossipmonger truly was.
Anthony had not been surprised to find out about her alter ego; he had been proud of her. It had given him a reason to start watching her more closely which led to him learning more about her and his interest in her grew into love. He wanted Penelope, but he knew if he were to express interest in her in any way, her mother would interfere horribly.
Portia Featherington was a nuisance he would not wish upon his worst enemies…well maybe Fife because he was a prat.
Anthony needed to formulate a plan to tell Penelope how he felt before his mother pushed yet another ‘eligible young lady’ in his path, trying to foist yet another vapid debutante upon her son. He appreciated her efforts, but Anthony’s interest was directed in one way and one way only, and his sights were focused on the youngest Featherington.
He knew that most of the young ladies were still wary of him after the Sharma debacle, him ready to propose to Edwina, falling for Kate only to realize that they were the worst sort of match up and their relationship would always be arguing and one-upmanship. Anthony had a feeling that even making love with Kate would be some kind of argument that wouldn’t end during intercourse. He could see her fighting over who would, quite literally be on top during that most pleasurable of acts. It was not the sort of marriage he wanted. He wanted a marriage where conversation flowed easily. Where there was laughter and warmth, respect and love.
Kate would never be able to soften herself enough to give him any of that. She regarded it as demeaning to back down and come to common ground. The only way for Kate was a victor – someone to come out on top. She refused anything that was traditionally female, like Eloise feeling that she would lose herself in a husband. She would not be who she was if she ceded in arguments. She would not be herself if she didn’t fight back. He was not sad when the Sharma’s headed to Prussia on the Queen’s recommendation to meet her nephew Friedrich.
Cut and dried, Anthony wanted Penelope. Oh Eloise would pitch a fit and try to insert herself into their relationship. Colin…all things Colin. He had no idea how his idiot brother would react if he were to court Penelope. He had no idea if Penelope would even consider his suit – she was desperately, madly in love with Colin and it was the fact that Anthony was convinced that Colin had feelings for Penelope that kept him standing to the side and not making a move.
Unless things changed, Anthony would have to live with his unrequited feelings.
Perhaps he could ask Penelope what she felt for Colin in the aftermath of him laughing at her before the Ton. It was inappropriate of course but Anthony needed to know to move on with his life. Now to formulate a plan to be able to talk to her for more than two minutes without interruption.
Perhaps the game had changed and he hadn’t noticed.
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“What would the opening of the Season be if not for the traditional ball at Lady Danbury’s?” Benedict asked Anthony cheerfully as they escorted their family into the ballroom.
“Calm and less stressful where we didn’t feel like stags being hunted?” Anthony replied as they joined the receiving line.
“Oh ye of little faith.” Benedict smirked. “They’d hunt us like stags at any ball and you know it. Is this going to be the year you take a wife? Has anyone sparked your interest?”
Anthony wanted to tell Benedict, he usually told him most things, however his growing feelings for Penelope were something that Anthony was keeping under lock and key. “We’ll have to see.” Anthony muttered. “There might be a lady who I am intrigued by.”
Benedict arched an eyebrow and closed his mouth as their mother came over to join them in the lineup. Benedict knew very well that if Violet got wind that there was a woman who Anthony was interested in, she would put the finest of military generals to shame in her determination to make the match happen. Benedict was trying to spare his brother that as he knew his conflict when it came to matters of the heart. “Isn’t this lovely? We’ll have to let Lady Danbury know how much we appreciate her efforts.” Violet smiled benignly.
“Indeed.” Anthony nodded, keeping his Viscount face on.
The listened to the Herald announce another family as the line moved forward. “Lady Danbury, what a pleasant theme you have chosen for this evening.” Anthony said to Lady Danbury as they moved in front of her. “I look forward to a fine evening of dancing and conversation.”
“Are you actually going to take to the floor this evening?” Lady Danbury arched an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen you dance at a ball since the Sharmas were here. Prior to that I’m not sure I ever saw you on the floor.”
Anthony shrugged. “We’ll see if there is anyone worth dancing with.” He replied cryptically.
“There are many worth dancing with.” Violet interjected. “And possibly your future Viscountess is going to be here as well.”
Anthony fought the urge to roll his eyes and sigh at his mother’s obvious meddling. “Mother, I have told you that if I find a wife, it will be on my terms. Not yours. Stop pushing.”
“I’m just saying Anthony…”
“Violet, why don’t you stand on the receiving line with me? It’ll go much quicker and then we can fortify ourselves with a glass of ratafia?” Lady Danbury cut in.
Violet knew when she was being sidelined and knew better than to try and correct her friend and argue with her son at the same time. Sighing, she agreed to stay with Lady Danbury and quickly lost sight of most of her children.
Anthony moved with purpose. Tonight was going to be different. Tonight he had a plan. Tonight he would wait for Penelope to show up and ask her to dance. Ask to court her.
Perhaps find out that his feelings are not unrequited although he knew that was a reach. She was desperately in love with Colin, however Colin was too blind and too stubborn to see what was right in front of him for the taking. Knowing the words that Colin had spoken to ruin Penelope’s reputation, knowing the Ton was judging her and knowing that he had stood aside for years for Colin to have Penelope…the game had now changed, he was going to be the one changing it.
He just wasn’t going to tell Colin about it.
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Penelope stood behind the rest of her family, her cloak covering her new dress that she hadn’t shown to her Mama, knowing she would be berated for not wearing ‘happy colours,’ whatever they were. How could a colour be happy? Penelope still didn’t have an answer for that one. She figured it was a saying Portia heard somewhere and like many things, stole it for her own use.
After being announced one of the Heralds noticed that Penelope still had her cloak and it hadn’t been checked. They came to take it and Penelope stood, resplendent for the first time in a gown of deep emerald green. She felt confident. Beautiful.
Like a woman who was going to take control of her destiny tonight.
Noticing her mother had once again ignored the social graces to get in the receiving line and was already gossiping with other Mamas, Penelope got in the line to pay her respects for her family and ask Lady Danbury to make her a ward if she was willing.
“Miss Featherington!” Lady Danbury smiled as she approached her. “You look positively radiant! That colour suits you so well!”
“Lady Danbury. Lady Bridgerton.” Penelope curtsied. “I was hoping to have a word with you later if possible, Lady Danbury.”
Lady Danbury arched an eyebrow. “You have intrigued me child. Come, let us walk and you can speak with me now.”
Penelope looped her arm with Lady Danbury’s and they began to take a turn about the room, Lady Danbury waving off the remaining stragglers in the receiving line. "Yes, yes I see you all! Thank you for coming!" she called to those left in line. She turned her face to Penelope. “What can I do for you Miss Featherington?”
Penelope took a deep breath. It was now or never. “Would you make me your ward and grant me asylum?”