Remembrance

And They Meet Again

The journey to Doncaster had been a tense, somber affair for the Viscount Anthony Bridgerton and his younger sister Eloise. Each mile that slipped by only amplified Eloise's fears over her dear friend's condition. When at last they arrived, she could scarcely contain her urgency.

Anthony's footman, who had been discreetly keeping watch over the situation on the Featheringtons, greeted them grimly. He then led the pair of Bridgertons to the remote physician's estate where the Featherington ladies had been encamped the past few days, stubbornly hoping for Penelope's recovery.

The dowager Baroness Lady Portia Featherington was startled when they were announced, rising shakily from her chair. The poor mother looked utterly drained, etched with worry and sleepless nights. Her eldest daughter Prudence, was no better.

Anthony politely bows as he removes his top hat and holds it to his chest. "Lady Featherington, you have my sincerest apologies for this unannounced intrusion. I, together with my sister Eloise, had come to visit Miss Penelope."

Eloise could wait no longer to finish all the pleasantries and polite greetings they must conduct as nobles, her hands wringing anxiously as she asks for her dear friend. "Lady Featherington.. Penelope, where is she? I must see her."

Portia Featherington's already wan face seemed to pale further at the request. She shook her head, almost imperceptibly.

"Miss Bridgerton, I.. I fear my daughter is in no state for visitors at present. Her condition remains most grave." She says softly, opposite to how she had always been under the young brunette's impression.

With Portia's refusal, Eloise felt her heart plummet, panic gripping her. She was almost ready to turn the room upside down, just to make her way past the Baroness. Just for her to see her dearest friend. She had waited several days, which she felt were a thousand years just to finally see her favorite redhead. Eloise will take nothing to stop her from meeting Penelope today.

Anthony, feeling her emotions and the inexplicable actions his sister might do at this moment, stepped forward. He spoke and begged Portia for her understanding, his voice level but insistent. He does not want to exert his authority as a Viscount over the redhead mama, but if it needs be, just to make his sister calm and stable, Anthony would be willing to do so.

"We have been kept informed of the severity of Miss Featherington's injuries, my lady. However, I must implore you - allow us to just lay eyes upon Miss Penelope. It would greatly soothe my sister's lingering fears.. As well as our dear mother's."

Portia hesitated. She knew how close Penelope is with the Bridgertons. How come she's not? The young Featherington had been spending most of her afternoon days at the home across their street for tea. Penelope had been a permanent fixture at the Bridgerton House as Eloise's playmate and closest friend. Portia knew that Violet had been extremely accommodating and close with her daughter as well.

And so despite her uncertainty, she conceded to the Viscount's request with a weary nod. She led them down a dimly lit corridor to a small sickroom chamber.

The sight that met Eloise and Anthony was a brutal one for their hearts. Penelope Featherington lay frighteningly still and pale against the pillows, her vibrant crimson hair dulled to a sickly shade. Violent bruises mottled her arms and her head swathed in stark white bandages.

Eloise Bridgerton's breath hitched, tears instantly springing to her eyes as she rushed to Penelope's bedside. She grasped her friend's limp, cold hand between her own trembling ones.

"P-Penelope? Oh, Pen... I am so dreadfully sorry..." Eloise chokes her voice in between sobs as she finally sees her friend.

"Penelope..." She whispered. "Oh, Penelope, please wake up." Her words were a desperate plea, a fervent prayer for her friend to return to consciousness.