Linger in love

(4) Goodbye

Grosvenor's Square 1813

The day my world ended.

I had packed in excitement to head to Gretna Green, to the woman I would marry. I believed myself a man in love.

On my way to leave home and claim a wife. My mother had stopped me with grave news indeed. Miss Marina Thompson was with child.

My bag slammed to the foyer floor with a bang. As I read the words from Lady Whistledown, I could feel my heart breaking.

How could she do this to me.

She said she loved me.

God, what a fool. One that my eldest brother Anthony will surely give the 'I told you so' speech to. Fool indeed. I could see the disappointment in my mother's eyes. Unsure if it was directed at me or the situation, but I found I could not keep her gaze any longer.

I decided for the time being to push my sorrows and my pain down, as far as it would go. After all that was written, I was concerned for that lier. Worried for her ruin.

This is not my fault, in the least, yet I feel somehow that it could have been remedied if I had learned her trickery sooner. Perhaps, I could still save her. From the remarks of the ton and the scowl of the other debutantes.

I needed to see her. Daphne, who even though younger, I found to be more responsible and respectful orchestrated a meeting with Marina.

My heart yearned for her and I hated myself for it. I would have been married to the destroyer of hearts in a matter of days. The world is cruel, is it not.

We met at a neutral location. Daphne's home. She made no attempt of apology, just made me feel worse that she merely used me for my wealth for her unborn child. I would have still made her happy if she just spoke the truth.

The only blessing in all this disaster is Miss Penelope Featherington. I do not know why she had such faith in me, I wish she would lend it to me to borrow because I feel like I am useless. A pathetic excuse for a gentleman.

All her reminders of my enjoyment of travel was the push I needed to plan a new adventure in hope that when I return, I will feel much improved.

The season was to end with the last ball of the season. My sister Daphne, the Duchess and her husband, the Duke of Hastings. Simon. I would attend mostly to say my farewell to Penelope before I leave. She is after all my one true friend and I know she tried her damned hardest to sway me away from Marina. I was just too engrossed in her to see it.

I searched for yellow the moment I descended the staircase with Benedict. I was annoyed that she was not dancing. I only hope someone thought to ask her. I don't understand how others don't notice her. She is always in the brightest colour in the room, for gods sake.

Our last conversation was a thing of beauty. Pen isn't just my friend. It was in that moment seeing her at the edge of the dance floor in a bright yellow gown that called to me. That was the moment that I realised that she was my best friend. Possibly my only one.

I let her know about travelling around the Mediterranean, making sure not to leave out, that she inspired me to do so. I thought she would appreciate that.

Something was amiss though that night. She said "Good Luck on your tour" but her expression was sour, sad even. I should have chased her to see if she was well. Thinking back, I do not know why I did not.

With one last look toward the Featherington Home. I left.

A the Featherington home, Pen looked out her bedroom window. Wishing Colin wasn't leaving. That night she wanted to finally admit that her heart had been beating for him for all these years. That it is him, and him alone she wanted to call hers.

How could that ever be. He could never care for her the way she cares about him. From the moment they met, it was like a rush of emotion. Her heartbeat was deafening and it made all other sounds non existent. His smile, his laugh.

He was a Greek god.

Penelope's father was dead and what she wanted more than anything, was for Colin to embrace her. Touch her face. Tell her everything would be alright. Even if he did not believe it himself. False hope is better than no hope.

How empty her home had felt without her papa's presence. Even on the sofa reading the news paper and smoking that dreadfully smelly pipe. He may not have been the best of fathers, but he was hers.

A home with no male presence was strange. I never looked up to papa. To be honest, with myself, I never truly knew him. He wasn't one that enjoyed the company of his family. Not that I can fault him for that. I do not care for it either. Now he has left me to face our family alone. Defend myself.

Eloise may be kind with her comfort but she had a family around her when she lost her father. I have no one but myself for comfort and it was not fair. But Eloise had offered her door for whenever I needed it. Never there was a truer friend than her, to be sure.

The Bridgertons ask of me when I visit and if there is anything they can do to help, which is more affection than my own family show me this past year. Sometimes the silence is kinder than the harsh words. For at least silence doesn't leave a bitter taste in my mouth and a mind full of despair. I instead enjoy just sitting with the Bridgerton hoard. Even where conversation lacks with some of the siblings. Silence in the presence of a caring family is a beautiful thing, indeed.

I love Lady Violet Bridgerton. She has a warmth and kindness behind her eyes. Always making me feel welcome into her family even though I am not hers.

"Penelope, assist me here. Eloise can find someone else can she not?" Violet pleaded.

"She can, and not Lady Whistledown. Someone more like.. Colin" she gasped as his presence was suddenly in the room with them. His eyes were upon her and his smile, joyous.

"My brother!" Eloise showed disgust before she had realised her brothers return.

Once the family greeted each other. Colin's eyes few to mine.

I couldn't help but smile. His eyes traced my face like it was the first time he had seen it.

Was this it.

Was this a moment.

Suddenly Hyacinth and Gregory ran to him.

I took a small breath. Moment over.

They had not had a proper embrace since his return. For some reason this day, when he had been back a few days was the time. They could reacquaint themselves with him and his travels.

His mind was so focused on Pen since his return he hadn't even acknowledged that he hadn't properly showed his family that he missed them also.

Her eyes sparkled like the stars. She was wearing yellow and pink, her curls were long down her back. I had to stop myself from visibly undressing her right there in the family drawing room.

I promised myself not to think of her in such a way and to push the unclear feeling down. But when you push down on a Jack in a box, does it not come to the surface with a fierce reckoning.