Chapter Text
Penelope had thought the very worst when her mother and Cousin Jack had burst in upon her private conversation with Colin Bridgerton. Her mother was not known for her restraint; if there were any possible benefit to forcing social upheaval at finding them alone, completely unchaperoned, she would likely seize upon it. But then it seemed like Colin had saved them any personal scandal when he had stood as protector for the Featherington women and ordered Cousin Jack, cad that he was, to vacate the household with haste.
Strangely, it all went well – well enough that Colin was practically effervescent as they left the study. He took her hand and led her out onto the dancefloor, giving her no recourse to refuse.
“I will always look after you,” he told her as they danced and for once in her life, Penelope believed him. For a brief shining moment, she was certain everything would be alright.
And then the song slowed and the dance ended and there was her mother, standing on the side of the dance floor with her hands clasped together and a resolute look on her face. When she knew she had gotten their attention, she nodded back towards the corridor to the study and Penelope and Colin shared a look before heading her way.
“Don’t get too worried, Pen,” Colin whispered with feigned cheerfulness. “Probably just wants us to know she sent that scoundrel cousin of yours on his way.”
Once they followed her into the study, Portia turned her gaze to Penelope and Colin.
“The former Lord Featherington will be leaving shortly, on the first ship to the Americas that he can find,” she said, smiling as she clasped her hands in front of herself. “And now that the unpleasantness is out of the way, I suppose we should move on to the matter at hand.”
Penelope frowned. “Mama?” She asked, unsure of the meaning of her mother’s words even as she heard Colin swallow hard beside her.
“Lady Featherington…” he began, but had no chance to speak any further.
“I’m so pleased you have such great concern for mine and my daughters’ welfare, Mr. Bridgerton,” Portia announced airily. “It will serve my dear Penelope well to have a husband who cares for her so deeply.”
Penelope’s blue eyes went wide as saucers. “Mama!” she gasped. “You can’t possibly mean…!”
“Penelope Anne Featherington, I found you alone with a man who I can only assume will do the appropriate thing after having so compromised not only your reputation, but also that of our family which still suffers from the unfortunate incidents of last season!” Portia all but shouted, shrill voice carrying loudly across the room and, to Penelope’s mounting horror, out the door that she had carefully left open. Surely her words would have carried far enough for someone else to hear.
Penelope shook her head of auburn curls. “No, Mama, you can’t do this to Colin,” she said quickly, struggling to keep her voice low even as tears began streaming down her face. “He was only trying to help, you know that! He’d never have taken advantage of the situation, he is my friend!”
“Dear girl, no man can be the friend of a young lady,” Portia responded harshly, taking a step forward before turning her attention back to Colin. “Mr. Bridgerton, if you care for my daughter at all, then you must care for her reputation. No matter what you may claim this… this tryst was about, she has been compromised. The real question is what you plan to do about it.”
“Oh god,” Penelope said, tears flowing freely as she reached to cover her mouth with her hand. This was terrible. This was awful. It was as though someone had plucked her wildest fantasy from the depths of her mind and twisted it into something rotten and foul. This was a nightmare.
Her mother frowned at the epithet, but said nothing.
Penelope had loved Colin Bridgerton for more years than she cared to admit. That much was no secret to her own heart. Part of her had always hoped that one day he might look upon her as more than the awkward friend of his younger sister, and she daydreamed what it might be like to become a Bridgerton herself.
But not like this. Never like this.
Colin cleared his throat and stood up a little straighter, taking a step forward and, to Penelope’s surprise, linking his arm through hers. She glanced up at him in shock, and though pale-faced, he offered her a small smile.
“All will be well, Pen,” he whispered, before turning his attention to her mother. “Of course, Lady Featherington. By no means would I wish to bring any undue scrutiny upon you or your daughters, especially not one so lovely and dear to my heart as Miss Penelope.”
Penelope gasped; she knew this was a ruse, either to find a way to wriggle out of what her mother was demanding or simply to present a brave face, but to hear it spoken aloud still shook her to the core.
Portia raised one slender red eyebrow. “And so you agree, then? You and my daughter are to be married as soon as a license can be procured?”
“Of course,” Colin responded with a nod, patting his hand on Penelope’s arm in hopes to calm her.
Portia grinned. “Splendid!” She declared. “Come then, let us return to tonight’s festivities and announce the happy news!” She turned and all but marched out the door, and Colin stepped to follow, giving Penelope a soft tug on the arm so that she might walk with him.
“Colin, you don’t have to do this,” she said in a harsh whisper.
“Of course I do, Pen,” Colin told her, and the smile he gave her this time was much firmer than the last. “I won’t do anything to hurt you and… well, I suppose my family will be quite used to surprise engagements from me at this juncture, don’t you agree?”
In spite of herself, Penelope snorted a laugh, watching as Colin’s smile grew. They fell in step together, hurrying after Portia, ready to face the crowd.