Chapter Text
Penelope Featherington has lived her entire life in Ireland. Or at least, it certainly feels like it.
When she was three, her parents and her two sisters died in a tragic house fire in their old home in Mayfair. Since she was the only living member, and not a son who could inherit the title, the damaged house was left vacant.
They had no living male relatives, but her Father did proclaim in his will that the first-born son of any of his daughters could inherit the title. And so, the house was repaired and boarded up in the meantime, and Penelope was sent to live with her Mama's Aunt in Ireland.
Aunt Philomena was a tall, rigid older woman that never much cared for children. Due to this, Penelope grew up largely alone and ignored, no matter how she sought warmth and tenderness from her.
For a while her Aunt kept up appearances in society. They would visit London and stay in the refurbished Featherington House with limited staff for a few weeks at a time each year before returning to Ireland. These visits stopped, however, after an incident that happened on Penelope's sixth birthday.
After that, Penelope's only reprieve from the isolated life she lived with her Aunt was lost, at least for a time, until years later when she had her debut into society.
After her sixteenth birthday, her Aunt conceded that they would return to London to attend only one single ball each year, and stay for only a week to promenade and socialise.
But this very brief foray into society taught Penelope so much, and it was how she came to write and publish her small and very sporadic column as Lady Whistledown in the Society Papers, thanks to the help of her Father's old solicitor who would sometimes come to visit. She mostly wrote of the latest fashions, but she sprinkled in tidbits of gossip and observations that she learned at the dances and while promenading now and then.
It was at her first ball when Penelope met the most beautiful man:
Anthony Bridgerton.
He swooped in to save her when one of the meaner debutantes she had come to know, Cressida Cowper, not-so-accidentally poured her red punch down Penelope's beloved pink dress. It was a simple style, as her Aunt wasn't one to lavish her with much of anything. Penelope had to save up her pin money for the majority of the cost, but it was flattering, and the nicest one she had to wear out. A fact that Miss Cowper liked to deride her for.
After that incident, Anthony rebuffed the Cowpers at every opportunity throughout the night, and he made sure to always dance with Penelope at least once at each ball he found her at from then on. Sometimes he even escorted Penelope out to her carriage.
His kindness reminded her of a boy Penelope met when she was six, during her last trip to Mayfair before her debut.
It was her birthday, and Penelope had lost her yellow bonnet to the wind. As she ran after it, she paled when it flew directly into the face of a young boy riding his horse across the street, causing him to unbalance and fall.
Penelope remembered how she could only watch in horror as the boy fell off his horse and into the mud, landing with a pained sound on the hard ground. Penelope was not too fussed that she would get in trouble, as she knew she would and deserved to, but she was absolutely terrified and beside herself that the boy might be seriously hurt. Her eyes quickly welled up with tears.
To her surprise however, the boy only laughed, standing and holding out Penelope's hat to her with the most charming smile she'd ever seen to date, and a small proper bow. Penelope's young heart thumped in her chest as she looked at him, feeling lost and swept away by the dark blue of his eyes. Was this love?
“Ouch. That wasn't very well done of me, now was it?” The handsome boy said with a grin.
Before Penelope could reply or take her hat back, her Aunt came and grabbed Penelope's arm roughly, pulling her away and chiding her harshly before Penelope could retrieve her hat or say a kind word to the nice boy. He watched her go with a quizzical look, and Penelope knew she would never forget him. Her first innocent love.
Yes, Anthony reminded her of him indeed.
The Viscount could cut an intimidating figure if you didn’t know him, but after three years and three balls in total, Penelope likes to believe that she has managed to see the kind and caring man that Anthony Bridgerton can be underneath all his heavy frowning.
It is why she believes wholeheartedly that she could grow to care for him if they were to ever properly court and marry. Even with his well-renowned rakish ways that she sometimes reports in Whistledown.
Penelope has never met any of his siblings or his mother due to ill-timing, since she only attends one ball a year she was bound to miss them more often than not, but Anthony always speaks with so much fondness and exasperation of his family that Penelope almost feels like she already knows them.
This year they were currently all staying at Clyvedon with their sister Daphne, as she is about to give birth to her first child.
Anthony has always made a point of saying how well he thinks Penelope would get on with his sisters if she met them, especially his sister Eloise who is her same age.
All her life Penelope yearned for a large family like his, or any family at all really. Aunt Philomena was more like a reluctant warden than a blood relation, and Anthony's family sound so loving - Penelope would give just about anything to have something like that.
Along the course of their congenial acquaintanceship, Penelope gets the notion into her head that Anthony might be intending to court her someday, and she gives this as the reason that her Aunt should leave her in Mayfair for the rest of the season, which is only a fortnight left.
Her Aunt agrees after a minute of thought, waving her hand at Penelope as though she were swatting away at a pesky fly.
She obviously didn't much believe in Penelope's chances of snagging a Bridgerton, but her Aunt has always been a social climber, collecting high status connections like trophies to wield in conversation, so Penelope knew she wouldn't turn this or any opportunity down - even if all it resulted in was a friendship.
Philomena decides to return to Ireland and leaves Penelope to stay at the vacant Featherington estate with two of her footmen, a cook, and her maid Rae for the remainder of the season.
In that small window of time, Penelope gathers enough information just promenading at the park and attending dances to fill an entire page, and Lady Whistledown soon takes full form after her next ball. From then on, each dance she attends is abuzz with gossip of who the mystery columnist might be, and how she knows so much.
Penelope listens in on this with amusement while completely escaping their notice. After all, she knows better than most how easy it is to ignore a fly on the wall, or in this case, a wallflower.
But truth is she doesn't care that they all ignore her. She has never been so happy. She's never felt so free and powerful. In fact, with her new influx of earnings, she is able to go to the local modiste and have a dress made; a cerulean blue that matches her eyes with sparkling gems sewn into the hems, paid for in full by her own hand.
She attends two more balls and dances with Anthony at each one, inquiring on when he thinks his family will return.
“Probably at the end of the season, once Daph is settled with the baby. Hopefully by then my brother Colin will have returned from his tour to spend Christmas with us. Though. he's been vague about when he'll come back as of yet.”
Penelope nods, lost in the idea of spending Christmas with the Bridgertons.
Colin, she thinks distractedly, what a nice name.
❆
Of course, no peace can last forever, and it all comes to a head after the Trowbridge ball.
Penelope left the dance a little early to get an issue written and ready for printing. Normally she would send Rae, who has been her only confidant with her enterprise to date. But Rae has been flustered, having to manage the household on her own with only a skeleton crew, and so Penelope decides to go herself.
She is just making her way out of the printers shop when she notices Anthony leaving the gentleman's club only a few buildings away across the street. Unfortunately, he spots Penelope almost immediately.
It is dark, and the road is busy with carriages going this way and that, but still she can see the surprise and fury on Anthony's face even from afar.
She's never had that expression directed at her before. It is intimidating.
He quickly begins to cross the street, his expression fuming as he glares at her. Penelope stands frozen in shock, tugging on the strings of her hood as she watches him storm towards her, getting ever closer.
Then everything seems to all happen at once.
One of the horses pulling a carriage along gets spooked by Anthony crossing the road so rapidly. The creature rears up on its bind legs and whinnies as it comes to a clumsy stop. But its hoof crashes against Anthony’s head hard, and in a matter od seconds he collapses to the ground.
Then, against the driver's control, both of his horses begin to gallop, and Penelope watches in horror as the carriage driver loses control completely and speeds around Anthony's still body, nearly crushing him under the wheels.
Penelope doesn't even realise she's running until she's there, crouched down beside Anthony's prone form.
His head is bleeding heavily at the temple, and his eyes are closed, his face gone completely slack where before it was alight with anger.
“No! Oh no, Lord Bridgerton—A-Anthony wake up, please!” she cries, aware of all the carriages still whirling by them. “Oh, please, please be alright! Wake up!”
Just as Penelope looks up, she sees a large carriage of four horses careening towards them. Penelope, desperate and unable to lift him, lays overtop Anthony completely, hugging his body as she rolls them quickly out of the way, moving blindly until they hit a patch of grass near the pathway.
Inanely, all she can think with his body pressed to hers is that he smells very good.
“Miss! Miss! My word, but you saved him, Miss!” Someone is shouting, an older gentleman. A group of onlookers have come to gather around, hailing Penelope as a hero. “That was very brave of you!”
Soon the Bridgerton carriage comes and stops near them, and two footmen and a servant come to lift Anthony up carefully.
“He's injured,” Penelope says, breathing heavily after the awful ordeal. “His head is bleeding. We need to get him to a doctor right away!”
She stays with Anthony in the carriage, kneeling on the floor between the seats beside his head. She wouldn't dare to leave him now, especially since he was hurt because of her. Because he caught her. This was all her fault.
Penelope takes off her hood and bundles it up as a pillow for his head, and brushes her fingers over his brow softly, while his manservant presses his vest to Anthony's head wound to stifle the bleeding.
Penelope pales with worry at the sight of it, for there is so, so much blood.
"Worry not, miss," the man says, "Faces tend to bleed more than anywhere. He should he fine."
Penelope nods and keeps her eyes on Anthony's face, wracked with guilt over what happened.
After a while, she forgets that someone else is in the carriage with them, as she pets Anthony's handsome face and begins to whisper.
“Oh Anthony, please, please be well…” she says, a tear falling down her cheek, thinking of all the fanciful dreams she had of their future together. It all seems so silly now. “We're supposed to be married one day...” She chuckles ruefully, shaking her head.
❆
“Where is he!? Where is my son?” Violet demands, her heart racing as she speeds up the stairs. The maid shows her through to Anthony's bedroom, and the Bridgerton matriarch arrives with Eloise and Benedict in tow just as the Doctor is exiting the room.
“Lady Bridgerton,” the doctor bows briefly in greeting.
Violet nearly grabs him. “Doctor Memrack, please. How is my son? Can I go in and see him?”
Daphne had just given birth when she got word of what happened, and Violet had nearly fainted from the news. Anthony was cut down by a horse and nearly trampled on the street, and he had yet to regain consciousness. It has been a day.
She and the children left immediately, with assurances from Simon that Daphne and the baby would be fine under his care.
“I do believe he is stable now,” the doctor says, speaking far too calmly for what has happened. “But he has yet to regain consciousness, so perhaps only a few visitors at a time would be best...” he eyes her children behind her.
Violet scoffs. This man is just lucky that Francesca is keeping Gregory and Hyacinth at bay downstairs and that Daphne is in Clyvedon, and Colin is away. Else he would have the full force of the Bridgerton clan breaking down that door.
“What happened to him?” asks Eloise, her voice trembling.
“From what I've gathered, a horse collided with him as he was crossing the street and he was nearly trampled. He was struck in the head and lost consciousness immediately. Now, his injury may be severe but he is young and I have every faith he will pull through,” the Doctor smiles. “Actually, a young lady, his fiancée in fact, was the one to save him, and she is already in there with him—”
“Fiancée!?” All of them exclaim.
❆
Penelope is just pressing a warm damp cloth to Anthony's forehead when the door bursts open and a group of people storm in.
“Oh!” She says in surprise, sitting back.
“Anthony!” A woman cries out at the sight of him, running to the bed and hugging him carefully as she weeps. “Oh, my poor boy… My son…”
“Is he going to be alright when he wakes?” A man who bares a striking resemblance to Anthony asks the Doctor, who has followed the group in.
“It is early days yet, but at least he is as safe and stable as he can be,” the Doctor replies.
The man, young and handsome, nods gravely at this. From description alone, Penelope believes he might be Anthony's brother Benedict.
“Who are you?” A pretty girl with chestnut hair tied in a bun asks Penelope. She folds her arms, narrowing her eyes at her suspiciously.
Penelope's eyes widen. She knows it's improper for an unmarried young lady such as herself to be in Anthony's room alone, but he was so unwell and Penelope feared so much for him, and she didn't want him to be alone. In her mind at least, they were friends. “Uh, well, my name is Penelope. Penelope Feather—”
“I've never heard of you,” the girl sniffs, brushing her off. She walks over to sit beside her Mother, who is staring at Penelope curiously.
“Is it true what Doctor Memrack said?” The woman asks, her voice soft as her eyes glisten with tears. “Are you truly Anthony's fiancée?”
Penelope can feel her heart plummet to her stomach, and her mouth falls open. “Wha–what?”
"Can't believe he got engaged without telling us," the girl mutters, staring at Anthony with hurt in her eyes. "What will Daphne say?"
“Oh, this is just awful…” their mother suddenly cries, drawing all the attention back to her. “How are we going to tell Daphne and Colin?”
“I will write to them as soon as we know what's really wrong,” The man says, looking pale as he stares down at his brother. If he truly is Benedict then that would make him the second son, and all the responsibility will fall on his shoulders while Anthony is indisposed. “I don't want to worry Daph too much so soon after having Auggie.”
Meanwhile, Penelope is still reeling in shock, sputtering wordlessly.
“Not only that,” their mother says, “But we must also tell them that your brother is engaged. Did Anthony tell any of you at all? Did you even know he was courting anyone?” She asks her children who shake their heads.
“If he was, it was kept well under wraps. There's not been a single mention of his escapades in that Whistledown column I've had him send me,” the girl with the bun says. "Except for the sordid ones..."
“Eloise, you know that column is only ever sparsely released,” their mother tisks and shakes her head.
“It's been a consistent part of the Society Papers this season, Mama! That is why I asked Anthony to send it to me while we were away. I haven't missed an issue, and there's been nary a word about him romancing anyone at any ball.” Eloise cut her eyes to Penelope and then to the window as she mutters, “There has been much news of him as a merry rake, however…”
“Did you really expect Anthony of all people to make a public show about that sort of thing?” Benedict asks. “It's a wonder he isn't already married. He never tells us anything.”
“Your brother has so much on his shoulders already,” their mother says, sniffling. “We mustn't fault him for neglecting to tell us of… what did you say your name was, dear?”
“Er, Penelope Featherington,” Penelope answers, standing quickly and trying to back out of the room. “Please, I think there's been—”
“Featherington?” The lady says, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief passed to her by her son. “I know that name…”
“Miss Featherington, perhaps you should go and rest a while,” the Doctor says, eyeing her with concern. “You look quite pale, and you were of course in such peril when you saved Lord Bridgerton's life.”
He keeps making a point of mentioning that.
“Oh yes, you saved his life,” their mother repeats, sounding awed. In a flash, she is standing up from her chair and rushing forward to envelop Penelope in a tight hug. It is tender and warming, and the first one that Penelope has ever experienced in her life.
“Thank you so much,” Lady Bridgerton says as she pulls back, cupping Penelope's face lovingly. Her eyes are so kind, and such a startling shade of deep blue. “I always hoped Anthony would find someone special someday. I am beyond grateful that he has found you.”
Lady Bridgerton began to cry in earnest and her daughter looked teary-eyed as well as she came to join in the embrace.
Oh no, Penelope thought with an awful feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach, what have I gotten myself into?