Remembrance

Moving On

As the final notes of the opera faded and the heavy velvet curtain descended, a ripple of applause cascaded through the Opera Hall. Penelope, her heart light with the evening's revelations, found herself reluctantly extricating herself from Queen Charlotte's company.

"Your Majesty." Penelope curtsied gracefully, her sapphire gown shimmering in the candlelight. "I fear I must take my leave now. My family will be waiting."

Queen Charlotte's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Of course, my dear. We mustn't keep the Viscount waiting, now should we?"

Lord Fletcher, ever the attentive courtier, bowed deeply. "It has been an absolute pleasure, Lady Bridgerton. Your wit and charm have made this evening truly memorable."

Penelope offered a polite smile, her mind already on finding Anthony. It was only when Lady Danbury approached, her cane tapping a staccato rhythm on the polished floor, that Penelope found her opportunity to slip away.

As she hurried through the emptying corridors, her slippered feet barely making a sound on the plush carpets, Penelope's thoughts were filled with Anthony. She rounded a corner, intent on reaching the grand staircase, when familiar voices brought her up short.

"Anthony, please.." Came a sultry, pleading tone that Penelope instantly recognized as Siena Rosso's. "Surely you haven't forgotten the passion we shared?"

Penelope froze, her heart hammering in her chest. She pressed herself against a nearby pillar, its cool marble a stark contrast to her flushed skin.

Anthony's voice, when it came, was firm and unyielding. "Miss Rosso, I must insist you desist this unseemly behavior at once. I am a married man, and whatever dalliance we may have shared in the past is precisely that – the past."

"But Anthony.." Siena purred, her voice dripping with honeyed venom. "Can that plump little wife of yours truly satisfy you as I once did? Does she ignite your blood, make you burn with desire? Surely, your taste in women did not go that sour?"

Penelope's breath caught in her throat, a mixture of hurt and indignation flooding her veins. But before she could step out and confront them, Anthony's voice rang out, filled with a fury she had never before heard.

"You will not speak of my wife in such a manner." He growled, each word precise and cutting. "Penelope is everything I could have ever dreamed of and more. Her grace, her intelligence, her beauty – they are unmatched in all of London, nay, in all of England."

Penelope's heart soared, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

Anthony continued, his voice softening with obvious affection. "And her figure, which you so crudely disparage, is perfection itself. It is the body of a woman made to bear my children, to be the mother of the next generation of Bridgertons. I love every inch of her, from the curve of her cheek to the softness of her skin. Nothing – and no one could ever compare to her."

There was a moment of stunned silence before Anthony spoke again, his tone now cold and threatening. "Let me be perfectly clear, Miss Rosso. Should you ever again seek me out or dare to insult my wife, I will not hesitate to use every means at my disposal to ensure you never set foot on a London stage again. Do I make myself understood?"

Penelope heard a choked sob and the sound of retreating footsteps. Her heart was pounding, not with fear or insecurity now, but with an overwhelming love for her husband. Every doubt, every niggling worry about Anthony's past with Siena had vanished like morning mist in the sun.

The corridor of the Opera House fell silent as Penelope emerged from her hiding place, her sapphire gown rustling softly against the polished marble floor. The air seemed to crackle with tension as she approached Anthony and Siena, her chin held high and her eyes blazing with newfound confidence.

"Anthony, dearest." Penelope called out, her voice steady and warm.

Anthony's head snapped towards her, his expression transforming from surprise to unbridled joy. "Penelope." He breathed, immediately moving to her side and placing a possessive hand at her waist. The gesture was not lost on Siena, whose eyes widened in shock at this public display of affection.

Penelope's gaze fell upon the opera singer, her lips curving into a polite yet unmistakably sardonic smile. "Miss Rosso, is it not?" She inquired, her tone dripping with honeyed venom. "Allow me to properly introduce myself. I am Viscountess Bridgerton, the Queen's favored emerald of the season, and more importantly, Anthony's wife."

Siena remained frozen, her mouth agape as Penelope continued, her voice taking on an edge of steel beneath its velvet exterior.

"I feel it necessary to remind you, Miss Rosso, that before I became the Viscountess, I was a daughter of a baron. As such, I expect to be addressed with the respect befitting my station. Something you seem to have forgotten in your... misguided attempts to rekindle a long-extinguished flame."

Anthony's arm tightened around Penelope's waist, a mix of pride and amazement evident in his features as he watched his wife assert herself.

Penelope's gaze softened as she turned to Anthony, though her words were still directed at Siena. "I believe it's time you awaken from this futile dream, Miss Rosso. My husband has made his feelings quite clear. And this 'plump body' of mine that you so crudely insulted?" A triumphant smile graced her lips. "It now carries the most precious proof of Anthony's devotion and love."

Anthony's sharp intake of breath was audible in the stunned silence that followed. His eyes, wide with wonder and joy, searched Penelope's face. "My love.." He whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Do you mean to say.. Are we truly to become parents?"

Penelope's hand came up to caress Anthony's cheek, her eyes shining with unshed tears of happiness. "Yes, my darling." She confirmed softly. "I discovered it during my visit to mama's estate. The family physician confirmed it – we are to have a child."

Anthony let out a laugh of pure elation, sweeping Penelope into his arms and spinning her around, heedless of their audience. When he set her down, he cradled her face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears that had spilled onto her cheeks.

"Oh, my love.." He murmured, his voice trembling with emotion. "You have made me the happiest man in all of England. Nay, in all the world!"

Siena, who had been watching this exchange with a mixture of shock and growing comprehension, finally found her voice. "I.. I see I have gravely misunderstood the situation." She stammered, her earlier bravado completely dissipated. "Please accept my sincerest apologies, Lady Bridgerton. I shall take my leave and trouble you no further."

As Siena hurried away, her footsteps echoing in the now-empty corridor, Anthony turned back to Penelope, his eyes alight with love and wonder.

"My dearest, most beloved wife." He said, his voice low and intense. "You never cease to amaze me. Your strength, your grace under pressure – you are truly remarkable."

Penelope smiled up at him, her earlier bravado softening into tender affection. "It is your love that gives me strength, Anthony. And now, with our child growing within me, I feel as though I could conquer the world."

Anthony placed a gentle hand on Penelope's still-flat stomach, a look of awe crossing his features. "Our child.." He whispered reverently. "I swear to you both, I will spend everyday of my life ensuring your happiness and safety."

As they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, the world beyond ceased to exist. The opera, the ton, even Queen Charlotte herself – all faded into insignificance. For in that moment, there was only Anthony and Penelope, and the precious new life they had created together – a testament to their enduring love and the bright future that lay ahead for the Bridgerton family.