Intention

Chapter 2: A Full Moon

OKAY, a few points.

1. This will probably not be a Polin story, sorry and I might be critical of Colin as I write about him.

2. Please don't put be off with regards to what Robert thinks about Penelope.. I promise you there is a reason for that NOW at least.

3. In this story, Colin does NOT know that Pen knows he said he would never court her, I intend to save that confrontation for later!

4. If you are not familiar with my stories, allow me to please inform you that my characters, while based on CANON characters aren't really exactly like the ones in Bridgerton so if you find Penelope to act not 'like she usually is', in the books or in the show it is because of that.

5. I am taking historical and creative liberties, I have made Robert a Lord (I believe he is in the show anyway but not sure) so please excuse that and please mind be mindful that I am not British myself so excuse the 'word flow'.

6. Some elements are CANON in this story, like for instance Anthony/Kate marriage, others are not. I am just gonna roll with it.

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Robert Fife was someone who was used to getting his way Obstacles didn't mean much to him, no these were to be bought away or otherwise eliminated and there was always a way to achieve this .

They were privileges that came with his status as Lord and he made eager use of them. There was not a day that went by when he was not happy with his origins and did not consider himself lucky that the Fife's were rich because imagine being born a poor pauper! He saw the men and he did not envy them, their exhausted long faces due to the long days they worked in his father's textile factory, which he supposedly had to keep an eye on, whether things were working properly there.

His father had entrusted him with that task, though it was more to shift the responsibility onto him upon which Robert shifted the responsibility back onto his manager. He did go by though, once a month or so, to look around briefly, barely 10 minutes before quickly making his way back to the exit, back to his undisturbed life of drinking and setting his sights on a new conquest, read a new lady he could beckon to his bed.

However, he had been feeling uninspired of late. The ladies, married or not, fell too easily into his lap and there was no challenge into getting them in said lap. He hated to admit but he Robert Sinclair Fife was no longer enamoured with the ladies he found himself with in his company, though that was not entirely fair perhaps. He did enjoy seducing them of course but afterwards there was always an emptiness, the search for something, after pleasure had departed his body. Then Robert didn't know how quickly he could get away because as soon as their mouths opened something or other silly or totally inconsequential would come out and he would have to listen to how badly the husbands were treating them or they were talking about Lady Whistledown, or the latest dresses from Paris.

He didn't give a damn about any of it, least of all the infamous writer Lady Whistledown. Everyone was talking about her publication, Robert had not read it once...Yet somewhere he was grateful, somehow he had escaped Lady Whistledown's thorn, until now but he was also discreet and so were the ladies in question.

Besides, he was no Bridgerton and somehow Lady Whistledown often mentioned them in her tabloid, several times so far. Apparently the writer found this family intriguing and Robert was happy about that even if he didn't understand the fascination much.

The female Bridgertons were all lovely and turned heads wherever they went but he did not find the male ones AS captivating. Benedict Bridgerton was a nice fellow he supposed , he had no grievances with them. The contact between them was superficial yet friendly, a brief conversation during yet another ball. Anthony Bridgerton he had always found to be a pompous arse but being married had perhaps removed some of the stick in his arse, he suspected as he seemed to behave a bit more friendly than usual instead of the insufferable man he used to be. And then there was Colin.