The Wrong Mr Bridgerton

Chapter 12

Dear Gentle Readers,

No one loves gossip more than I, as you all should know. So once I heard that there was a man whom's mouth was, indeed, larger than mine. I had a thought, which made me question. How is it okay for a man to sully a woman's reputation and not the other way around.

Well, Lord Fife, perhaps in future you should conjure some restraint, you should look around before making such harsh remarks at a ladies reputation. As you all well know. My eyes and ears are everywhere. Maybe you should look at yourself hard in the mirror before you can get back into the good graces of society.

Yours Truly

Lady Whistledown

LADY WHISTLEDOWN SOCIETY PAPERS 1814

At night Colin found himself thrusting his member to feel a release. Keeping his eyes tightly shut, seeing her face. It crossed his mind how much he ached to see her face as she gasped. Her eye's burning into him, as she had done to him. Insatiable lust.

It was an unusual feeling. He found ladies pretty before but Pen was the whole package. She was smart, with a great sense of humour, she seemed to understand him more than most, and her smile. Good god, her smile. She glowed. Had she fallen to earth merely to torment him. Give him such urges he couldn't control.

One thing was for certain, when she wasn't around, he felt lost.

Why did he have these feelings, he felt pathetic. Like a lost cause. Penelope was. Well she was wonderful. She was the most amazing Lady he had ever met, a goddess, a siren.

Her smile brought him joy. Her rosy lips made him warm. A feeling of completeness. How had he managed his whole life without these confusing thoughts to plague him. He had no idea. All he knew was he not only wanted her. But indeed, needed her. Needed her love. Her body in his arms. He could never let her go.

Miss Penelope Feathering has a difficult family though, he overheard some of the remarks from her own mother and sisters in public. He shook the upsetting thought he felt.

After all every family was different. They act as though she was different, not unloveable as such. More like she was a stranger. They gave the impression, that not only did they not know her, but sadly they didn't even attempt to get to know her. Colin stood leaning on his desk with just his thoughts to keep in company.

He needed a way to let know Pen know how much he cared for her. He was a gentleman, he should have known better than to kiss her. But now that he had, he wanted, corrected himself.. no, needed to kiss her, and more of her.

How was he to tell her that if he continued to kiss her, then he knew for certain he may never be able to stop. He was a fool. The biggest in fact. When it came down to it, nothing scared him more. Kissing Pen was pure bliss, her plump lips sweet, with a slight taste of honey from the pastry. She can never know the hunger he felt or maybe she would reciprocate his feeling. He hoped she would but perhaps to her the kiss was simply. A kiss. How to bring up such a conversation?

The Featherington ball. Penelope was allowed to choose a dress, Portia was so impressed that she seemed to have three suitors after her favour. Lady Portia never really saw Pen, who she was. Who she wanted to be. Pen always felt as though her mother didn't dislike her, but merely didn't understand her. In Pen's defence, her mother never tried. Pen sat reading a book, alone in the study. When an unexpected visitor arrived.

"Ah Colin!" Pen swung around surprised that he was walking towards her. Almost as if she knew he was on his way to her.

"Pen. The dress rather suits you"