Francesca and Lord Kilmartin are having their wedding in the drawing room of Bridgerton house. I smile as Fran and Lord Kilmartin recite their vows.
"I take thee to be my lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do us part," Lord Kilmartin states.
"I take thee to be my lawful husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, till death do us part," Fran repeats.
"May you now live together in holy matrimony until your dying breath. Amen."
I clap as Fran and Lord Kilmartin kiss.
I stand with Benedict and his siblings after the ceremony.
"Have I been overly influenced by the minister's treacle speech, or does Lord Anderson seem rather taken by Mother?" El remarks.
"She looks happy. If that is the case, who are we to judge?" Benedict offers.
"He looks like a fine fellow who is very lucky that Anthony has already left town," Colin remarks.
"You should be grateful to Lord Anderson," Fran tells El. "Now that I am wed, Mother's attention may turn to you again unless she is distracted."
Lord Kilmartin clinks a spoon on a glass. "A toast, if I may. To my beautiful wife, I have not the words to express my adoration. A fact for which I am sure you must be grateful, as I know you are loath to be made the center of attention for too long. So, instead, I shall offer a few humble words to your family. Especially your mother. Lady Bridgerton, I see your openness reflected in Benedict, your charm in Colin, your wisdom in Eloise, and a brightness you have instilled in both Gregory and Hyacinth. In this moment when I feel so much gratitude for my new wife, I feel it in equal measure for the remarkable woman who raised her. I thank you, all of you, from the bottom of my heart."
I smile as Violet wipes tears from the corners of her eyes.
"Ah, forgive me. Tears were the last thing I meant to evoke," Lord Kilmartin states.
Everyone laughs.
"Hyacinth's been crying this entire time," Gregory states.
"One day, you too will have a heart," Hyacinth remarks.
"Mama, will you play a duet with me?" Fran questions.
"Have a duet. Now? I... Well, I am dreadfully out of practice," Violet insists.
"I believe the last time I nearly moved you to tears was when I first started playing," Fran reasons.
"She's not the only one. I wept in my room from the hideous chord combinations," El remarks.
"Ha ha. Thankfully, Mama did not abandon me. And I shall not abandon you now," Fran states.
"Is that a threat?" Violet remarks.
Fran leads Violet to the pianoforte. They both sit on the stoll and start to play a tune. Neither is playing the same as the other.
"Bravo!" Lord Kilmartin states.
My cousins' ball is this evening. Benedict and I have arrived early to support them. Everything is beautiful. The conservatory is perfect. My cousins are running around looking at everything.
"Philippa, you caterwaul like a child receiving their first bite of cake," Aunt Featherington remarks.
"Mama... thank you!" Philippa shouts as she hugs her.
"What is the meaning of this?" Aunt Featherington questions.
"Well, it must've been you who paid for all of this," Philippa states.
"Mama told me she wished for you to have the greatest ball Mayfair has ever seen," Pen states.
Aunt Featherington smiles. "Hmm. You are welcome."
"Thank you," Prudence says before hugging Aunt Featherington.
"It is beautiful," Aunt Featherington admits. "I am proud of you."
"It is actually rather nice," Benedict confesses.
"I was rather nervous for the bug part," I confess.
"Your Majesty!" Prudence shouts as the Queen arrives. "Forgive us, Your Majesty. We do not have a perch for you because we did not think you would accept our invitation."
"It is not your invitation that brings me here," Her Majesty states. "Cease playing. As a result of my tireless search placing her in an impossible situation, I received a letter... earlier this week from Lady Whistledown." Everyone gasps in shock. "She calls upon my mercy, asking to address you all herself. To plead her case publicly before I pass my judgment. So I turn the floor over now... to the scribe herself." Mr Finch sneezes rather loudly. "Not him." Her Majesty points to Penelope. "Her."
I know this is not how Pen desired to come clean. But it would seem she no longer has a choice.
Penelope steps into the middle of the dancefloor. "Hello, all. Or should I say, "Dearest Gentle Readers"? I know it is no laughing matter what I have done. In the beginning, I never thought anyone would take my writing seriously. Why should they? No one has ever taken any part of me seriously. I only realize now how common that feeling must be. To be a young lady to whom no one listens. I wrote about all of you because I was captivated by you, living your lives so out in the open. And in writing about all of you, I suddenly felt as if I had a life. I had power. And for anyone in this room who has ever had a taste of that, they should know it can be intoxicating. But I was careless with that power. It was easy to cast aspersions from the shadows where I could not be found. But I see now how much courage it takes to live a life out in the open. To honor one's weaknesses publicly for all to see. And to know, regardless of the outcome... one always has worth. All of us talk. We gossip. Gossip is information. It forges bonds. Especially for those of us who are told so little. But I can no longer conceal the biggest piece of information I have. My identity." Pen turns towards Her Majesty. "That is why I am so very grateful to our queen for forcing me out of the shadows with her most cunning scheme. If she affords me the chance to continue, I mean to aim my quill more responsibly. That is my repentance and my plea."
"She seems humbled," Her Majesty states. "But we will be watching that she remains so. What is life without a little gossip?"
Her Majesty leaves. Everyone starts to whisper among themselves.
"Now, Varley! The bugs!" Philippa shouts.
Suddenly a hundred butterflies fill the room. I laugh as they fly overhead. The band starts to play again.
Benedict holds his hand out to me. "Dance with me, my love?
I smile as I place my hand in his. "Of course, dearest."
Benedict and I laugh as we dance. I spot his Mama over my shoulder.
"Your mama is dancing," I state. "With Lord Anderson."
Benedict laughs. "She is happy."
"She deserves it," I state.
"And Fran is happy with Lord Kilmartin," Benedict states.
I smile as the two dance. I think it may be the only time I have seen them do such. Lord Kilmartin is quiet the wallflower.
"Now we must simply find someone for Eloise," I remark.
Benedict laughs. "You can try, love, but I do not think that will be so easy."
"I like a challenge," I assure him. "Like every Bridgerton does."
Benedict and I are laying in bed. Fran and El are leaving for Scotland with Lord Kilmartin this morning. We are supposed to see them off.
"We cannot lay about all day," I state.
Benedict laughs. "Nonsense. The season is over. We can do whatever we like."
"Whatever we like?" I question.
"Anything," Benedict tells me as he kisses me.
"Could we travel?" I question.
"If you desire," Benedict tells me.
"Stay in London?" I question.
"If you prefer," Benedict states.
"Never leave this bed?" I question.
Benedict laughs. "That is what I prefer."
Benedict kisses me. "The choice is yours." He rests his forehead on mine. "Though I would not mind some alone time with you."
"I should like to spend some time in London," I tell him. "Then we shall visit your family at Aubrey hall."
"A wonderful idea," Benedict tells me.
I smile as I kiss him. "It is settled then. But really we must get ready for the day."
Benedict groans as he rests his head on my shoulder. "Five more minutes."
I laugh. "Five more minutes."
Dearest Gentle Reader, I find myself suddenly at a loss for words. My reticence is not due to a desire to protect any risqué couplings. Though I have heard whispers of a few. My restraint comes from a place of joy. To all those who feel they have been wronged by this humble writer, my sincere apologies. I wish you only the best. It is time now to look toward the future, whatever it may bring. This author knows better than to make any predictions about what the future may hold. But with every closing chapter, the story is sure to grow richer and deeper. It has been quite a journey we have taken together. And so it is with the heaviest heart that I write this final, unbelievably short sentence as Lady Whistledown. Goodbye.
And with the retirement of my literary persona, I should like to formally introduce myself. Previous wallflower, current columnist, observer, wielder of a quill. Nobody unique, and yet, I have my moments. Penelope: And hopefully, dear reader, you will stay on to enjoy them with me as we begin this next part of our journey. Yours Truly, Penelope Bridgerton.
Benedict and I are in the Featherington drawing room. Our family, both Featherington and Bridgerton are here. Prudence, Philippa, and Pen each hold their babies. Though Prudence and Philippa are rather jealous that Pen was the one to have a boy. William and John are excited to meet their new cousins.
Benedict wraps his arms around me. "I cannot wait to have a daughter of our own."
"You do realise that if I were to get pregnant again it may not be a boy," I state.
Benedict laughs. "I know but I would spoil our daughter."
"And I know it is no hardship for you to keep trying," I remark.
"Nor is it one for you, my love," Benedict states. "I make sure of that."
I laugh as I kiss Benedict. "I love you."
"I love you too," Benedict tells me.