The Blossoming of Penelope Featherington | A BRIDGERTON Fanfic

Chapter 12

"...And just as I have written to you all earlier this week, dear readers, the Bridgerton clan could not be more happy to welcome Mr. Colin Bridgerton back, resulting in a reunion of the family. But upon hearing from my sources, one particular Bridgerton was not present. The newest addition to the family, Mr. Benedict's wife Sophie Bridgerton, was said to be unable to join due to a malady of a female sort. But worry not, people of the ton, for I could bet all my fortunes that it is not one that would likely take anything from the loving couple and their family.

And speaking of loving couples, I'm afraid this news is not much about one if one were to believe the whispers of the ton. It is such a truly unfortunate thing for a gentleman's pride to be in a situation where a once-upon love story has become a subject of scandalous gossip. We can only hope for a favorable outcome for Lord Turner's Viscounty (and marriage)."

-Lady Whistledown's Society Papers, 11 March 1818

It was just a little bit after dinner and Penelope was sitting on the corner of the family's drawing room. She was by the writing table savoring her time of being left alone with the peace of an empty house. Her mother and youngest sister were away to visit Philippa in their Berbrooke home in the country, and was told that they would very likely be arriving late into the night or by next morning. Portia implored her to come with but later gave in and let her off since she did, just recently, had tea with both her elder sisters a week prior.

She was about to write her closing remarks and sign her name on the letter when she heard a loud sound along the hallway outside. Penelope stood up and warily walked towards the door to get a clearer understanding of the commotion. A concerned Briarly could be heard arguing with a kind of familiar voice forming a very incoherent babble.

"Sir, I would like to ask you to come again another time," the butler was saying, "when you're more er...clear-headed."

"Wher...p...lo-pi!" the other man said. Penelope's brows raised at that the moment the realization kicked in of the visitor's identity.

"What in the name of..." Penelope whispered, flabbergasted. She walked towards the entrance of the house and tried to get Briarly's attention. "Wait, Br-"

"P'nel'pe! Would ju tell him I'm jist vist'n." Colin grabbed at Briarly's shoulder, who carefully pushed it away. Upon closer inspection, he didn't look all too unusual except for a crooked cravat and slightly dishevelled hair- At least nothing seemed to have happened to him... Penelope thought. The scent of liquor, though, was incredibly strong that even Briarly could not keep a straight face with the air that was wafting his way.

She was so filled with concern and confusion that she forgot to tell Briarly what she was going to. She shook her head and looked away from Colin and said, "Is Mr. Bridgerton's coach still outside?" She was worried if anyone were to see Colin drunkenly coming into their home, it would affect both her and Colin's reputation.

Before the butler could answer, Colin butted in. "I di'n't bring one."

"What?"

"Paid a hack." Colin waved his hand as if it was no big deal for an aristocrat to travel drunkenly through London with a hackney carriage.

"Goodness," Penelope sighed. "Briarly, please do bring him to the drawing room before anyone sees him." She ushered them to move through the hallway. "And afterwards, please bring a basin of cold water and a towel."

"Will do," he replied while struggling to support an unstable Colin. It was a good thing that the household staff were finishing their nightly chores farther into the house. Penelope trusted them, but it was still better to keep quiet in such events.

When they were left alone in the drawing room, Penelope crossed her arms and looked at Colin sternly. "What in the world were you thinking, Colin? Coming in here, drunk and through a hack no less!"

Her anger must have surprised him because he started to look at her with regretful eyes. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "Penelope, I'm sorry. Are you angry?" She bit her lip at his display of vulnerability. His green eyes took a warmer hue upon the reflection of the lamp lights, and grew bigger with his begging of forgiveness. It felt like she was being pulled in the pools of blooming yellow dahlias.

She sighed and put her attention on the pitcher of water on the table. "First of all, are you alright?" she asked as she handed him a glass of water.

Colin stared at her for a moment and then at the glass of water in his hands, probably trying to decipher her question and assess himself at the same time. "Uhm...well, I am a bit hungry, I think."

"When are you not?" She shook her head at him. "What happened that made you drown yourself in whiskey, Colin?"

He was looking intently at her at that point. Penelope liked to think that he was trying to sober up because what other reason did he have to do so. "I didn't intend to- ugh!" He held his head, pained. "My head- it hurts..."

"Oh, Colin..." She didn't know what to do to alleviate his pain. She wanted to go to him and caress his head, but knew that won't help him at all. "Drink your water, Colin. I'll just go and get Briarly and some more help." She hurriedly walked towards the door.

Colin wanted to stop Penelope from leaving for a reason unknown to him.

He just wanted her to stay.

He got up to call out to her but another headache came rushing in and caused him to stumble. He tried to stop his fall with the nearby table but, instead, caused it to topple down with him. A bunch of parchment fell along with a pen and ink bottle that, thankfully, was closed and simply thudded on the carpeted floor.

"Ugh...bloody fuckin' hell." Colin tried to get up again, gathering the papers. Not only was his head hurting as if an anvil had landed square on top of it, but he felt like he scratched his palm on the same carpet that saved the ink bottle. He stopped moving for a while and stared at the pages to keep the room from spinning and his temples throbbing.

He doesn't always drink himself to oblivion, especially when he's not in the company of people he truly trusted. But while his three former schoolmates rambled on like complete asses. He was already ready to curse their bloodlines when they were talking bout Eloise like a commodity, but when they started to insult Penelope in the most degrading manner, he wanted to land fists and bullets and burning arrows on the only parts of theirs that categorizes them as biologically male.

He closed his eyes tightly. The anger surging back with the memory of the past conversation he was forced to listen to wasn't helping his headache. When his sight finally cleared, the words written on the papers did as well. He didn't mean to read them.He knew he wasn't supposed to find out. At least, not like that.

There was a squeak from the door that pulled his attention from the revelation he was holding. He looked up and saw her standing there, frightened and unmoving.

Lady Whistledown. 

A/N: it's really short but I thought it best to cut it here. See you in the weekend~