Chapter Text
Colin:
“…May the best one win…“ read Kate, finishing with a loud sigh.
Just a moment ago everything had been fine. Everyone was gathered outside, intending to play what probably would be the last game of pall mall, before the sun disappeared entirely, making way for clutters of leaves and downfalls of rain.
It was then, that their mother appeared, Francesca and Hyacinth in her tow. As they got closer, Colin spotted a piece of paper in mothers right hand, as did everyone else, and they knew. Kate immediately started to tense up. All of them had been waiting anxiously for the next letter, thinking Anthony and Kate would be the center of Lady Whistledowns foul gossip. Now, Colin was not so sure.
In fact, he was convinced this edition wouldn’t be about anyone in this family, but none of them knew that. Therefore, he wasn’t the least bit surprised, when without a word, Anthony just walked to where their mother stood and held his hand out.
Kate right by his side had barely given his brother a chance to read its content, before she practically ripped it away from him and began to read instead. With each word, tension seemed to leave her body, heading straight towards Colin. When she was done, it was like a wire was tightly wrapped around him. He wanted to snap.
“What the hell is she thinking..?“ Eloise whispered softly.
Swiftly at her side, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder, Kate tried to soothe his sister.
“No one knows…but don’t fret. As soon as the next letter comes out, everything will be forgotten and your friend will be fine again I’m sure.“
Colin was not.
The dinner had been less than two days ago. What should have taken weeks for Lady Whistledown to compose this letter, instead came fast and in full force right after the shameful behavior of that evening, his included. Both towards Cressida and Penelope. He did not regret any of his actions towards Cressida. Actually, he wished he would have told her off, left sooner. Said more. That night, Colin was everything he tried to never be. A bad friend. A bad brother. A disappointment. No matter what that letter, or any other letter in the future, said, no one had brought more shame to their name during this dinner than Colin, on that he was certain. It was the only thing he thought about every minute ever since him and Eloise had stepped out of their carriage.
He faintly heard his mother fussing around, trying to wring some information out of Benedict. She should know better.
“I am telling you, I don’t know what you are talking about mother!“ He shrieked, mother pinching his arms mercilessly.
“How could you not know, you were there that night. Or did you leave as well…I swear to god, Benedict…“
“A-ah…mother…ouch…will you please stop!“ Benedict rubbed his arms up and down, clearly trying to lessen the stinging.
“There is no need to look at me like that, or to use bodily harm for that matter. I was there, probably longer than anybody else. The Cowpers have a rather fine selection of paintings and sculptures. I was merely admiring the art.“
That was not what their mother wanted to hear.
“Art?“ She blurts.
And so it began.
Colin was not up to listen as his mother berated Benedict, before she undoubtedly would turn her focus on him and Eloise, trying to do the same. Neither did he want to go back to the game. The desire to play was affectively squashed. Instead, he made his way inside, looking for Eloise, who at some point had vanished from the field. He found her in the kitchen, a book in one hand and a jar of biscuits in the other.
“Who are these for?“ Colin asked.
“Me.“
“All of them? You could feed an entire army brigade with that.“
That was no exaggeration. The jar was that big, but his sister lifted her chin and crinkled her nose in a defiant way entirely unique to her.
“I guess it is good then that I rather see myself as a one woman army.“
Trying to walk past him, Colin quickly moved to cut her off at the entrance. Exasperated, she rolled her eyes and tapped her leg.
“Is there anything you want, brother?“
“Do you want to visit the Featherington’s with me?“
The tapping stopped.
“Huh?“
Colin eyed his sister curiously. Something was up with her.
“The Featherington’s. Penelope to be specific. I think it is a good time to see her, don’t you?“
He was wrong, if he went by the shaking of his sisters head.
“So, you don’t want to go? Not even after this monstrosity of a letter? Do you not want to console your friend?“
He had no clue as to the why, but he certainly knew that was another wrong thing to say, as he saw her make a face he had never seen her make before. Something that looked like anger and sadness all at once, before shutting it off. Ignoring his question completely, she advanced.
“If you excuse me, I will be reading in my room. In solitude.“
Eloise strutted past Colin, effectively dissmissing him. Something happened between his sister and his friend, and whatever it was, it had turned the two most tight knitted people he knew into a loose knot. He did not like that, but it was also not his upmost priority. He first had to take care of his friendship with Penelope, before he intended to meddle in someone else’s business, and he would do so.
He would do so today.
______________________
Penelope:
Ever since breakfast, all Penelope had done was switch between two states of mind: delight and anxiety. Cheery, as everything went according to plan. After the rest of the family read the letter, mama suddenly had decided Penelope would not be thrown at the very first opportunity to an outing.
Instead, they would decide together, approaching her public appearance in a strategic way to better her image. Mama had also announced, that new dresses for her and her only, were in order. More than once Prudence tried to convince everyone she should get an entirely new wardrobe as well, which her mother had quickly shut down. It wasn’t Prudence that could not pull off their family’s usual clothing, but Penelope.
She could not lie to herself, it stung how very fickle her mother proved to be when it concerned her. Instead of consolation, the first response had been to follow up on Lady Whistledowns remarks, as best as they could. But she wasn’t too upset, either. Mamas response would have been the same for any of her children. Not to mention this was part of her plan. So Penelope was not surprised, when less than an hour after breakfast, the both of them promptly made their way to The Modiste.
After a lengthy conversation between mama and the Madame, her mother entrusted the entirety of the order: colors, cuts, designs and accessories, to The Modiste, as she did not know how else to dress Penelope than the way she had done her entire life.
Again, it was exhilarating how smoothly things went.
It was frightening. Like her wishes were finally coming true, but she could not keep up. This is why, instead of being on her way home after having spend all midday with Delacroix, she roamed around outside in the green dress already available to her. Sneaking out in it had been tricky, but worth it. She wanted to get a feeling for herself. Would she walk, talk, act differently?
She already felt different. Lighter.
Comfortable. Penelope tried, but could not remember a time where clothes gave her comfort outside of home. Such a small change. Such impact. So there she was, enjoying the last of the sun before it set.
It was this small, inconsequential moment, that would make it all worth it.
Colin:
“I am sorry Mr. Bridgerton, Miss Penelope is not home at the moment.“
While Colin made his way to the Featherington’s residency, he had pondered all kinds of things. What he could say or couldn’t. What he wanted to say and how to best say it. He had even thought about writing a letter. Unfortunately, he was so very indecisive that nothing came to paper. It was also somewhat cowardly, to not face his friend and apologize in person. The more discouraging it was, when he had finally arrived, only to be informed by their housekeeper, that Penelope was not present.
“Do you perhaps know where she is?“
“No.“
“Do you know when she might return?“
“No.“
Not an enlightening conversation by any standard. Where could she be? And did the housekeeper really not know, or was she just not telling him? Colin’s head started pounding again.
“Do you want to come inside and wait?“ The elderly woman asked, half inside the estate, half outside the door.
“Oh no, thank you very much. I will come by another time.“
Her offer sounded tempting for a moment, but as much as he enjoyed Penelope’s company, he did not exactly seek out the rest of her family. He did not believe sitting with them would be the same.
Also, he had no idea what Penelope told anyone.
He would not be surprised if she voiced complains about him or Eloise. It was her every right, especially after she left that party alone. That little reminder was what convinced Colin to not go back home.
Rather, he instructed the coachman to take their carriage and leave without him. He would wait for Penelope, so that they could resolve everything today.
Walking away from the building, he sat down on the grass, facing the entrance.
He wouldn’t miss her.
-
-
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Maybe he had missed her.
What other explanation was there? It was almost time for the sun to set and he had been waiting for at least two hours, growing irritated with each passing minute. It was not because he had to wait for her, but because it was late. No one knew where she was. Did this happen often?
He couldn’t imagine. No lady should be out and alone for this long, particularly during the upcoming hours.
Maybe he could approach this subject once everything else was settled. In the meantime, he continued playing with the grass under his palms, waiting.
Losing himself within the task of trying to keep busy, it took him an embarrassingly long moment, before whatever it was that caught his attention made him look up.
He sat about twenty-ish yards away from the entrance, so he could not see her fully for a second, but when he did, it all stopped. His hands in the grass.
His racing mind. His breath. Maybe it was the way those last sun-rays fell upon her. How her copper-colored hair glowed like the red evening sky. Her dress, making her one with everything green and blooming.
She walked on the ground the same way a leaf might breeze trough the wind and in this moment, Colin wondered how he had never seen it before.
Had never appreciated her warmth, the amenity surrounding her, her colorfulness. Had never realized that Penelope Featherington, was like autumn.
And Colin loved autumn.
It was his most favorite season.