A/N: This is my first Bridgerton fanfic so please enjoy. I tried to add a bit from the shows and the books, so it's a mix between the booth
April 1809
Miss Penelope Featherington, a timid girl at the immature age of fourteen, sat at the northeast window of the drawing room, admiring the house across the square with its lovely purple flowers adorning the entrance like a rich tapestry woven from her dreams. She had only been residing in Grosvenor Square for four days, but she already knew that the house belonged to the Bridgertons, the most esteemed family in Mayfair. Lady Bridgerton had somehow managed to produce eight children, all as handsome and beautiful as the next.
Now letting her gaze rest upon the two eldest, Penelope felt this to be the truest statement ever known to man. She could already tell her mother would be trying to set them up with her elder sisters.Now letting her gaze rest upon the two eldest, Penelope felt this to be the truest statement ever known to man. She could already tell her mother would be trying to set them up with her elder sisters.
She watched as the third brother emerged from the house; they mounted their horses and galloped off down the square. Her neck strained to catch a glimpse of the third brother but was rudely interrupted by her mother.
"Penelope, stop pressing your face against the window; it is improper. Someone might see you."
Penelope stood up. "I am sorry, I was just... admiring the square."
"No time for that; we are off to promenade in the park. Do try to make a good impression on the ton."
Her sisters, aged eighteen and sixteen, scurried into the room, tying on their bonnets.
"Do you think we shall see the Bridgerton girls, Mother?" Prudence cried, reaching down the sofa in search of her fan.
"If we are quick," her mother replied, turning to Penelope. "Stop dawdling and find your bonnet, the lovely yellow one."
Penelope rolled her eyes. She despised the color yellow. It was not the hue itself that irked her, but rather that her mother insisted she wear it constantly; it made her stand out like a sunflower in a field of roses, and the last thing she wished for was to attract more attention to herself.
----------Time skip
Penelope walked through a kingdom of willows brushing over her head. She had often walked through the park, but no amount of trees she had seen in her lifetime could ever diminish their beauty.
Her mother was back at the edge of the lake, conversing with none other than Lady Bridgerton and her eldest daughter. Pen had managed to escape the bore of a discussion about flower arrangements.
Suddenly, the thunder of hooves came thundering towards her. She managed to get out of the way, but the sudden gust of wind blew her bonnet off. Now she understood what her mother had meant about not tying it too loosely. The bonnet flew gracefully onto young Master Colin Bridgerton's face. The poor boy had absolutely no chance of seeing through the yellow fabric. He cried out, swinging his head to try and remove the hat. The horse sensed Colin's fear, and in a moment of panic, reared, throwing him down into the mud.
Penelope gasped and ran over to him. Colin stood up, attempting to brush off as much mud as he could. Looking him up and down, Penelope quickly realized he was the most handsome boy she had ever seen. His eyes sparkled like sapphires glinting under the sun, holding the depths of a clear summer sky. Pen could barely utter a word.
Colin made eye contact with her and opened his mouth to say something. Pen was sure it would be a cruel remark or a scolding. Instead, he laughed. "I really messed that up, didn't I?" he chuckled, brushing a speck of dirt from his nose. No harsh words, no spiteful glares—he was laughing, but not at her. He picked up her hat and handed it to her.
"Forgive me for squashing it, but it made my landing a bit softer," he said with a sweet smile.
Penelope laughed. "I suppose it would, considering how large it is."
"Penelope, isn't it? I'm Colin Bridgerton; I live across the square from you."
"Yes, I know," Pen replied, not daring to meet his gaze again for fear of becoming lost in those eyes.
Colin began to hop back onto his horse. "Well, it is a pleasure meeting you, Miss Featherington. I do hope to see you again," he said, tipping his head politely. With that, he galloped off to catch up with his brothers.
April 6th, 1809, two days before her birthday, would be the day Penelope fell in love—a hard, sad, lonely, unrequited love.
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