Chapter Text

Wager

5th June 1813

Colin's ears were ringing. His head was swimming. A thousand thoughts swirling around in great waves while his mind tried desperately to find something solid to grasp onto.

"What did you say?" he asked, breathless.

"You heard correctly. Lord Thompson is a sodomite."

There it was. Benedict confirmed his revelation—a revelation that could cause one of the biggest scandals Mayfair had seen in years. Feeling suddenly dizzy, Colin collapsed onto the end of his bed, his head falling forward into his hands. He needed to think; to find purchase within the roiling swell of thoughts in his mind. Benedict came over to join him, but said nothing as Colin tried to make sense of this new information.

What did this mean? If Lord Thompson was a molly, why would he be marrying Penelope? It was true that that kind of man was barred from the pleasures other men enjoyed—sex, marriage, love. It was illegal for two men to be together in that way. If they were discovered, they could be executed. It had happened before and could easily happen again.

Colin had no particular ill will toward mollies in general. On the whole he didn't see the harm in two men who loved each other seeking a marriage. A hopeless romantic himself, he was a great supporter of all manner of love in its various forms. Two men (or two women, for that matter) sharing a love between themselves didn't bother him. Why should it when it in no way affected his own romantic pursuits? At least it hadn't—until now.

He couldn't make sense of it. How did Penelope fit into all this? Why would Lord Thompson seek to wed a woman if his affections lay elsewhere? Oh. It was obvious, wasn't it? Certainly, as the son of an earl he'd be expected to marry a woman and fill her with his seed in order to produce an heir to carry on the title.

Lord Thompson was as much a slave to society's expectations as every debutante who was presented before the queen. All of them were expected to find a proper match, and the type of match Lord Thompson desired was forbidden. The nobility of England could no more understand a man like him, who sought only to love the person of his choosing, than they could understand someone like Eloise. Someone who wished for neither husband nor children, and sought only her own independence. Hell, before King George had married his beloved wife, they couldn't even understand a couple that didn't share a race.

It appeared that Lord Thompson was just another victim in a society that still had a very long way to go to reach true equality. But what was the man's play here? Why involve Penelope and drag her down with him? Perhaps he intended to marry to appease the ton, but pursue his true pleasures in the shadows, unbeknownst to his wife.

But why Penelope? Surely he could have married a fortune hunter or a desperate spinster instead—someone who would happily marry a future earl regardless of his predilections. But Penelope? The youngest debutante of the season? There was no sense to be found in his choice. By all accounts, Lord Thompson was a man of high moral character, so why would he knowingly rob Penelope of her future happiness?

Colin gasped as his mind finally caught hold of a piece of information. A piece of information that subsequently had all the other pieces falling into place. "Lord Featherington," he whispered.

"What about Lord Featherington?" Benedict asked beside him.

Colin startled. He'd quite forgotten Benedict was still in the room with him while his mind was churning so chaotically.

"Everything is just beginning to make a lot more sense…" Colin said, trailing off.

"And here I thought everything had gotten rather confusing with this news."

Colin stood and began to pace the room. "No…No! It all makes sense now! Ben, when I went to the club with Anthony the other night, I overheard Lord Featherington and the Earl of Clifton having an argument."

"An argument? What about?"

"Apparently, Lord Featherington owes the earl a significant sum of money and the two of them had made an arrangement to settle the debt. Don't you see? Penelope and Lord Thompson's nuptials are the arrangement! Lord Featherington had mentioned knowing a secret which could only be this. He said the earl should be grateful he had the means to solve his problem. With three daughters, it was only too easy to promise one of them away in exchange for clearing his charges."

"But why Penelope? Why not Prudence or Philippa instead? They are older."

Colin's brow furrowed in confusion. "I do not know. Though if Lord Thompson got to choose between the three of them, it is no wonder he chose Penelope. She is the sweetest, cleverest, and most beautiful of all the Featheringtons."

"You'll hear no arguments from me," said Benedict, "Prudence or Philippa would be a much more…challenging wife to deal with, I imagine."

"The Earl of Clifton obviously knows about his son which is why he made the deal with Lord Featherington in the first place. He must be desperate to get his son married and producing heirs."

"But why would Lord Thompson go along with it?"

"What other choice does he have?"

Both of them sat with that in contemplation for a time before Colin broke the silence. "Ben, do you think you could reach out to Lord Thompson and arrange for him to take a private meeting with me?"

Benedict raised his eyebrows suspiciously. "Colin, you promised."

"And I meant it, I swear. I do not wish to harm him, only to understand. I have questions. He has answers. Hopefully, with more information and someone on his side, we can come up with a plan to end this false engagement without total ruin on any of the parties involved."

"I can try, though the Earl of Clifton is a rather boorish man who is not to be crossed. Don't be surprised if Lord Thompson does not wish to bear the wrath of his father."

"I have to try, Ben. Surely you can understand that I must try. For Penelope. For myself. For our future."

"I understand. And I'll do my best to help you. I know it will be difficult for you, but be patient. I'll keep you informed of my progress."

"Thank you, Benedict."

His brother stood from the bed and embraced Colin roughly before exiting his bedchamber.

For the first time in weeks, Colin felt an emotion that he'd been certain was forever lost to him. But as he crawled into bed he felt the barest glimmer of it flicker back to life within his chest.

Hope.

9th June 1813

Dearest gentle reader,

Following the events of the Ingénue Ball, it appears as though the season's diamond is well on her way to becoming a crown jewel. Miss Bridgerton has spent the last several days in the company of His Highness, Prince Friedrich, even receiving a personal invitation to St. James's Palace. During her visit Miss Bridgerton was, according to my sources, gifted a large and impressive diamond necklace. The gift makes plain the prince's intentions and surely a proposal is just around the corner.

I know what you are wondering, dear reader, for I am wondering the same. What of the Duke of Hastings? As of the printing of this column, he still resides in London, though for how much longer, only he knows for certain. I expect he shall remain at least through the upcoming boxing exhibition on Friday. It is well-known that the duke is friendly with the Mondrich underdog, who is slated to fight the prince's man, Gillespie.

Perhaps the boxing exhibition will be a mirror, foretelling which of these men's benefactors will be victorious in winning Miss Bridgerton's hand. This author maintains what she has written throughout the course of this season—that the Duke of Hastings and Miss Bridgerton are a love match. Why they both seem determined to deny this, not only to the ton, but also to themselves, I cannot say.

What I can say is whether she becomes a duchess or a princess, Miss Bridgerton has certainly done well for herself this season. And as for us? I suppose you and I shall just have to sit back and watch the events unfold. Regardless of who succeeds in getting Miss Bridgerton to the altar, it should be quite the spectacle. And I, your ever-devoted author, shall be here to report on all of it.

Yours truly,
Lady Whistledown

11th June 1813

The exhibition hall was noisy and smelled strongly of sweat as Colin walked into the boxing tournament with his elder brothers and (much to his surprise) Daphne. Anthony and Daphne walked ahead, deep in the middle of a discussion, while he and Benedict lagged behind so their own conversation wouldn't be overheard.

"What is your plan, Ben?"

"After the match, I'll meet up with my contact and see if he can get me in touch with Lord Thompson. Since I stumbled upon him the other night, he hasn't made any public appearances. I think he's frightened I will tell what I know. So far, I have been unsuccessful in setting up a meeting between the two of you."

"Do you think your contact will be able to help?" Colin asked.

"I hope so."

"Benedict, it is crucial that I meet with him. Do you understand?"

"I understand, and I am doing everything in my power to arrange this meeting for you, but you need to understand that it might actually be beyond my power."

"Right. No, I apologize. I didn't mean to be so…imperious, I just desperately need to speak with him, which will be difficult to do if he never leaves his house again."

"I shall do my very best."

"Thank you, Benedict…for everything. You are a good brother."

Benedict gave Colin his most mischievous smirk. "And that is something I shall remind you of the next time you have a quarrel with me."

Colin laughed and playfully elbowed his brother in the ribs before they joined the others loitering around Mr. Mondrich and the Duke of Hastings. The two were working hard to sell Mondrich as the underdog who could beat the prince's man. Lord Featherington, who was listening to the pitch, remained unmoved.

"I, for one, have forty shillings on Mr. Gillespie. He is, after all, the prince's man."

Colin wasn't a violent man by nature, but he was so infuriated with Lord Featherington and the way he'd used Penelope as a bartering chip to settle his own debts that Colin found himself wishing that it was he and the baron in the ring rather than Mondrich and Gillespie. After everything Colin had overheard and surmised from the new information about Lord Thompson, Lord Featherington was in no position to be gambling here today. How deep was the hole he'd already dug for himself and his family? And how much deeper would the hole become before the Featheringtons found themselves bankrupt?

The Bridgertons made their way to their seats to watch the match, and Colin couldn't help but notice that many of those in attendance were distracted. His brothers' attention remained firmly on the fight that was unfolding, but his sister's attention went back and forth between the duke and the prince. Meanwhile the two men in question couldn't seem to focus on the match and their respective fighters because they were both entranced by Daphne.

He himself couldn't focus on the brutal display before him because he was staring at Lord Featherington and watching his every move. The man was red in the face as he screamed for Gillespie's victory. When Mondrich triumphed in the end, Lord Featherington looked more battered and bruised than the beaten Gillespie as he walked away in shame and defeat, ripping up his betting slip as he made his way out the door.

After the match, the three brothers found themselves at White's, each man with his own agenda. Anthony to meet with the duke, Benedict to meet with his contact, and Colin to continue his observations of Lord Featherington.

If Colin had thought that Penelope's father's debts to the Earl of Clifton were an isolated incident, he would have been quickly disavowed of that notion while at White's. A dozen gentlemen surrounded Lord Featherington, all demanding payment for the money he owed them. The baron managed to calm the mob with a promise of payment in two days’ time, and the men dispersed to find their comforts elsewhere—in liquor and women.

This was worse than Colin could have possibly imagined. While he hadn't laid eyes on the Featherington books, he wasn't sure he needed to. It was clear that the man had a severe gambling problem and had put his family in a position it would be nigh impossible to get out of. Was there anything to be done? Not to help the baron, of course, but his daughters and his wife? Did they even know of their patriarch's treachery?

If there was a way for Colin to help, he didn't see it, at least not yet. His priority was Penelope. First he'd find a way to free her from this forced engagement, and then he'd worry about her family's coffers.

Colin felt a certain attachment to his younger brother Gregory, mostly because Gregory was now in the position that Colin had held for so many years. The youngest son looking up to his elder brothers—wanting so desperately to be part of their club, but always too young to truly join in. Colin had felt that way growing up with Anthony and Benedict, and he knew Gregory felt the same way now, which was why Colin often went out of his way to include the youngest Bridgerton son whenever possible.

Gregory was still too young to attend boxing matches, but Colin gave him the full account of everything that had transpired at the match between Mondrich and Gillespie. When he'd finished his story, Gregory begged him to show him some boxing moves. Having done a bit of boxing in his time, Colin obliged. The two of them hopped up from the settee and Colin started walking Gregory through some of the basics he knew.

Meanwhile, Daphne sat playing at the pianoforte, Eloise sat scribbling in a notebook, and Hyacinth was making her way around the drawing room pestering everyone inside it. All activities came to a halt, however, when Anthony walked into the room. Violet instantly admonished Anthony for allowing Daphne to accompany them to the match, but he interrupted their mother with the news that Prince Friedrich had asked for permission to propose. The room was stunned silent for several moments until their mother spoke again.

"What did you tell him?"

"That I know better than to answer for my sister."

Colin couldn't help it. He scoffed, and, unfortunately, it was loud enough that the small crowd gathered around the pianoforte heard him.

Anthony glared at him. "Do you have something you wish to say, Colin?"

"I do not believe so," Colin replied.

Anthony advanced toward Colin with menacing steps while Violet tried to avoid a quarrel by reigning in her eldest son. "Anthony, stop."

When Anthony arrived in front of Colin, he felt a bit smug at being taller than the man currently trying to intimidate him.

"Do share what's on your mind, Colin."

"It is only that if you would have had the same response for Nigel Berbrooke, our family, and Daphne in particular, would have been a lot better off," Colin said with a shrug of his shoulders. "At least you learned from your mistake."

Anthony took a swipe at him but Colin had been expecting it and dodged. Violet shouted in her most commanding tone, "Anthony! Stop at once!" Despite the fury that was still clearly burning inside him, even Anthony was powerless to disobey Violet's command. His nostrils flared and the vein in his forehead swelled, but he stepped away from Colin and stormed out of the room in a towering rage.

With Anthony and his temper gone, his mother turned to him. "Colin, why must you goad him like that?"

Colin rolled his eyes. "It was not my intention to goad him, Mother. It merely slipped out."

"Well, in future, do try to restrain yourself. Anthony is wound so tightly, I worry for those who meet with his ire."

"So we are the ones to be punished for his hot head, then?" Colin asked, annoyed.

"Colin..."

He held up his hands in surrender then turned his attention to Daphne. "I'm sorry, Daph, I didn't mean to interrupt our brother's important news.”

"That is all right. I am grateful that you would defend me. And I think I may need some time to decide upon an answer at any rate."

Violet jumped in at Daphne's response. "I think that is wise, my dear. You certainly have not known him long. Take as much time as you need to come to a decision, and when you have, Anthony can convey your answer to the prince."

"Yes, Mama."

14th June 1813

Dearest gentle reader,

While every ball and social gathering of the season has the potential for scandal, I'd wager there is none with more potential than that of the Trowbridge Ball. Recently-widowed Lady Trowbridge is well-known for her provocative fêtes as well as her estate's close proximity to the infamous Dark Walk. Many a young lady has left a Trowbridge soirée either in ruin or intended.

I am certain that much like her previous gatherings, tomorrow's festivities shall be extravagant and sensual in nature. This author would advise the debutantes who will be in attendance to stay on their guard, for rakes are often disguised as gentlemen. Do not be led astray by a charming smile or a handsome face, for these things do not guarantee a man's honor.

Regardless of its outcomes, the Trowbridge Ball is sure to be a night to remember, and this author shall be in attendance to chronicle every lustful gaze, wayward touch, and forbidden kiss that transpires.

Yours truly,
Lady Whistledown

15th June 1813

Lady Whistledown had certainly gotten her facts correct about the provocative nature of the Trowbridge Ball, for even before entering Trowbridge House they were greeted outside by numerous circus performers, including a pair of acrobats whose clothing was more than a little revealing. When the Bridgertons did finally make their way into the ballroom, they were greeted with more of society's lower class citizens all performing for their entertainment.

Upon entering the ball the Bridgertons all went their separate ways; Daphne to her prince, Anthony to watch the entertainers, Violet to the refreshments, and Colin to Penelope.

"Our host looks a bit fussy," Colin said as he approached Penelope from behind. "Do you think we will be asked to leave if he abandons the party to be put to bed?"

Penelope chuckled. "I do not know, but Lady Trowbridge is frightfully lucky to have produced an heir before the old earl's passing, do you not agree?"

"Most certainly." Colin leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "Though do you not think that his lordship bears a striking resemblance to Lady Trowbridge's footman?"

Penelope gasped and covered her mouth with a giggle before smiling up at Colin with a glint in her eye. "Colin! What a barb!" He gave her a lopsided grin. "You ought to be careful, Colin. Lady Whistledown might be listening."

Colin glanced around the crowded ballroom as though searching for the lady in question. "You're right, Penelope. I shall keep any further scandalous remarks to myself then. Mustn't let the old girl catch me speaking ill of others or it will be my name appearing in her column next."

"And what makes you think she is old?” Penelope asked, seemingly offended. “Personally I find her writing to be quite youthful. She is very quick-witted, do you not agree?"

"Oh, yes. Frightfully clever," Colin said, his gaze boring into hers.

Penelope blushed before responding, "You know, Eloise has made it her mission to discover Whistledown's identity."

Colin was genuinely surprised by this information, "Is that so? Does she have any theories?"

"Many, I expect, though she hasn't shared any with me just yet."

"Well if she does uncover the truth, be sure to let me know. I'd like to meet this woman. Having London's most well-renowned gossip columnist as an ally seems a winning idea."

Penelope let out another giggle, and Colin's heart melted at the sound. "Yes, quite," she agreed.

A brief silence hung between them before Colin broke it.

"But where is your fiancé this evening, Penelope? I have not seen him since arriving."

"I am unsure. I was told he would be in attendance tonight, but I have not seen him either. I hope he is well. Truth be told, I'm worried about him."

"Worried? Surely not making an appearance at one ball isn't cause for alarm."

"No, it's just…" she trailed off.

"What is it?"

Penelope lowered her voice to a whisper. "It's just that the other day when he came to call he seemed rather upset. I did my utmost to encourage him to tell me what was troubling him, but he refused. I haven't seen him since. I worry that I've made things worse and now he wants nothing to do with me." She lowered her eyes to the floor looking downcast after her admission.

"Whatever his reason for not attending, I'm certain you are blameless, Pen, for who could ever remain cross with you? You are far too kind and compassionate to have garnered ill will from anyone."

"You'd be surprised," she muttered beneath her breath.

"Am I interrupting?" a deep voice behind them asked.

They turned around and Penelope exclaimed, "Martin! You are here! I thought perhaps you had decided not to attend."

"And miss the opportunity to dance with my betrothed? Perish the thought."

"I am glad my assumptions proved to be false," she said with a grin. "Did you wish to join the others in the dance, then?"

"Absolutely." Lord Thompson turned to face Colin while simultaneously grasping Penelope's gloved hand. "Thank you for distracting my fiancée from my late arrival. I am certain her ire with me is lessened thanks to your company."

"It was my pleasure," Colin said truthfully with a nod of his head. He watched as Lord Thompson led Penelope to the dance floor for a quadrille and immediately sought out Benedict, who he found in the corner of the room chatting with one of the performers.

"Ben! Benedict!"

"If you'll excuse me," he said to the young lady with a bow before approaching Colin looking thoroughly annoyed. "What is it? I was in the middle of something if you hadn't noticed."

"He's here, Ben. This could be our chance."

"Lord Thompson?"

"Yes! He's just led Penelope to the dance floor. How can we get him alone so that I may speak with him?"

Benedict looked thoughtful, his mind whirring through possibilities before finally settling on one. "Leave that to me. Go through that door there and down the corridor. The third door on your left is the library. Wait there and I'll get Lord Thompson to you as soon as I can."

Colin promptly followed his brother's instructions. It wasn't until he was standing in the dimly lit library that he wondered how Benedict had known his way around Trowbridge House well enough to direct him to this room.

Perhaps Lord Thompson wasn't the only man he knew who was adept at keeping secrets.

Colin was far too tense to sit, so instead he paced back and forth across the grand library while he waited for Lord Thompson's arrival. After nearly a quarter of an hour the door opened to deposit Lord Thompson inside, then quickly shut behind him. The man seemed quite flummoxed as though he was expecting his companion (presumably Benedict) to follow him inside. When he saw Colin, understanding and acceptance flashed across his face.

"So, it's you then?"

Confused, Colin asked, "Whatever do you mean?"

"I was certain that your brother would be the one to expose my secret after discovering me in a compromising position last week, but of course it will be you instead. I should have guessed as much. I know that you are in love with Penelope."

Colin was shocked. If it was so blatantly obvious to everyone else how he felt about Penelope, why could she not see it herself? It was maddening. But that was not the point of this meeting. He was here for answers.

"I do not wish to expose your secret. I wish for you to confirm my suspicions and answer my questions so I have a better understanding of your situation. My goal is not to harm you; my goal is to save Penelope."

"And how do you expect to do that without harming me?" Lord Thompson pleaded.

"I do not yet know. But I have questions for you before we can even begin to consider a solution. So, your arrangement with Penelope was orchestrated by your fathers, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Lord Featherington owes your father a great sum of money and promised Penelope to you in order to keep your secret hidden and pay off his debt."

"Correct."

"Do you have any idea what the debt is worth? I'm trying to gain an understanding of exactly how red Lord Featherington's books have become."

"I do not know the precise amount, but I believe it to be near £10,000."

Colin staggered at the sum, his hand flying to his heart.

"Good Lord! No wonder your father felt the debt was not fulfilled even with the engagement. But why Penelope? Why not Prudence or Philippa who could have just as easily satisfied the arrangement."

Lord Thompson looked utterly revolted when he answered. "That was my father's idea. He said she had the best countenance for childbearing."

Colin's hands clenched into fists, a fury the likes of which he'd never known before rose up inside him. It took an enormous effort to restrain himself from striking Lord Thompson for his words. Reminding himself that the man before him was not the man who said this, he took several deep breaths to calm himself before he could continue.

Lord Thompson was looking at him with fear in his eyes. His rage had apparently not gone unnoticed.

“I’m sor—” Lord Thompson began to apologize, but Colin held up a hand to silence him. He needed to move past this comment before he did something he would truly regret.

"It appears to me that this arrangement is not something you would wish for yourself, so why did you agree to go along with it?" Colin inquired.

"I saw no other option. My father is…not a kind man. When he learned of my secret a few years ago he…well let's just say I have done my best not to upset him again."

Colin winced. He could only imagine the abuse the earl must have inflicted upon his son.

"I know what is expected of me, Mr. Bridgerton. Despite loving someone else, I must marry a woman. Since I must marry a woman, I figured Penelope was a better option than I could ever hope for and the choice pleased my father. Penelope is kind, compassionate, and sympathetic. I had planned to tell her my truth in time. I figured we could come to some kind of understanding between us."

"What kind of understanding?" Colin asked through gritted teeth.

Lord Thompson cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I had hoped she would agree to having a child with me in order to produce an heir, but that once we had a son, she would be free to lie with whatever man she wished and I would not stand in her way. I too would be free to be with whomever I pleased."

With no thought behind his actions, Colin reached out and grabbed the man by the collar. "You wanted to resign her to life as an adulteress? If she were discovered, she would be quite as ostracized as you!" Colin shouted in his face.

Lord Thompson held his hands up in surrender. "I admit it wasn't an ideal solution, but I couldn't think of any other options!"

Colin released him and walked away before he lost his senses and harmed the man he’d vowed not to harm.

"I refuse to accept this," Colin said gruffly.

"If you have a better plan, I beg of you to tell me."

"Let me think."

Lord Thompson took a seat upon one of the settees while Colin began his pacing anew. There had to be a solution here that he could not yet see. They needed a scandal that would be enough to break off the engagement, but still concealed Lord Thompson's secret. During his roving about the room, Colin thought he heard a noise outside the library door. He made his way over and listened intently to ensure they were still alone. Hearing nothing outside he decided he had imagined the sound, so he quietly resumed his pacing until an idea struck him.

"I have an idea."

Lord Thompson leaned forward eagerly in his seat. "What is it?"

"We tell a half truth. We get the word out about Lord Featherington's debt and the arrangement he made with your father in order to satisfy that debt. The shame and the scandal should be enough to end the engagement without your secret ever being discovered."

"Won't people wonder why my father agreed to such an arrangement in the first place?"

"Certainly. There will be rumors and theories abounding, and some of them might even guess correctly, but no one will know the truth."

"Do you not think Lord Featherington will spill my secret in revenge?"

"I think Lord Featherington will be far too busy with his own problems to concern himself with yours."

"It's risky."

"Of course it's risky! But Penelope deserves a future where she has a choice and I intend that she should have one!" Colin shouted, losing his patience.

Lord Thompson sighed heavily, the weight of the world seemingly upon his shoulders. "You are right, of course. Penelope is a kind and lovely woman and she deserves a happy future with someone who loves her. She is quite lucky to have you as a friend, Mr. Bridgerton."

Colin nodded in acknowledgement of the compliment.

"Your plan is sound and hopefully things will play out in the way we expect, but how do you intend to get the rumor started?"

"Leave that to me. I shall speak with a few members of our staff who are trustworthy and will help get the word spreading. The news should reach Lady Whistledown's ears in no time. Why, I'd expect we see something in her column by next week with how quickly scandal travels in the ton. What will you do when the news breaks?"

"I shall return to Clifton. I'm sure my father will follow closely behind me to escape the gossip." He hesitated before speaking again. "I want to thank you, Mr. Bridgerton. You have every reason to want to see me punished, yet you have done everything within your power to spare me."

"I didn't do it for you."

"I know you didn't, but I am still grateful, and I'm sure if Penelope knew what you have done for her she'd be grateful too. I am certain that my way of life probably disgusts you—"

"It does not," Colin interrupted. "I do not care who you love, Lord Thompson; I only care that Penelope not be caught in the middle of it."

"You are far more understanding than I ever could have hoped or imagined. I am sorry for any pain or trouble I have caused you."

"It is not I who deserves your apology."

Lord Thompson nodded. "I know, and I will do my best to explain and apologize to Penelope before I take my leave, but I pray that if I am unable that you will be able to make her understand in my stead."

"I shall do my best."

"Thank you."

Colin nodded and shook Lord Thompson's outstretched hand. When they exited the library, Colin caught sight of a yellow dress and a familiar set of red curls whipping around the corner out of sight.

"Shit!"

Leaving Lord Thompson behind, Colin ran to the end of the corridor trying to catch up with Penelope, but she'd already made her way back into the ballroom. He couldn't run to find her without turning heads and causing suspicion, so he walked slowly through the crowd searching for her. Eventually he spotted her speaking with her mother who waved her hand dismissively. It appeared as though Penelope was leaving the ball early. If he moved quickly enough he might be able to catch her and find out what she'd overheard. Because surely she'd heard his conversation with Lord Thompson. That was the noise he'd heard outside the door. He needed to explain.

Before he got the chance to follow, however, Anthony had pulled him aside and informed Colin that he was taking Daphne home early and that Colin should see to their mother. Glancing across the room he saw why Anthony had requested this. Their mother was further in her cups than usual and someone had to make sure she made it home safely. Frustrated at not being able to immediately follow after Penelope, he nodded toward his elder brother before crossing the room to his mother's side.

Colin did his best to slow down his mother's imbibing by switching her glass to lemonade instead of wine; even so it took nearly an hour before she was ready to depart the ball. Despite the worries on his mind, Colin still rather enjoyed the carriage ride home with his drunken mother. Violet rarely overindulged, but when she did, it was always a lark and the two of them were laughing stupidly over nothing when they finally arrived back at Bridgerton House.

Colin insisted on escorting his mother up the stairs and to her bedchamber as she was rather unsteady on her feet, but Violet Bridgerton was a stubborn woman. She was adamant that she was sober and did not need his assistance. Although they both knew she was lying through her teeth, they parted ways at the foot of the stairs. He watched his mother ascend the staircase to ensure her safety, and when she was out of sight, Colin turned to find the surprising sight of his two elder brothers with somber expressions, beckoning him to join them in the study.

Well, this couldn't be good, and in truth he was in no mood for more trouble.

"Good God, did someone die?"

16th June 1813

Fortunately no one had died. Unfortunately, someone was about to.

Either the Duke of Hastings whom his sister was in love with, or his brother and the head of the Bridgerton family. How the devil had it come to this? Colin was incapable of being as angry as Anthony, simply because that was all Anthony seemingly knew how to be, but even he was rather upset by the situation. Hastings had taken advantage of Daphne and then refused to marry her. It was infuriating. And poor Daphne. He couldn't imagine how she was feeling about the whole situation.

In addition to feeling frustrated and exhausted by the late hour, Colin was also harboring a fair amount of guilt. Only a few days ago, he'd gotten into a mindless quarrel with Anthony, and now there was a very real chance his brother could die. He and Anthony were so different that it was unsurprising the two of them were often at odds, but that didn't mean that Colin wished him harm. On the contrary, Colin wished his over-worked and chronically irate brother could find some peace and contentment in his life. That is if he survived the morning.

Colin could see no logical reason why the duke would refuse to marry Daphne and instead resign her to ruin, possibly even at the expense of his own life. There was no sense in it. The entire business was utterly maddening. His brothers had already left for Putney Heath, and he was to remain behind to keep an eye on the rest of the family (particularly Daphne) in their absence.

It had been impossible to sleep, so instead Colin stayed in Anthony's study waiting for one or both of his brothers to return home with news. He understood why Anthony had called for the duel, but he hoped that the two men, who were old friends and men of honor, would do the intelligent thing and fire their pistols wide to avoid any real damage.

Colin took another sip of the brandy that was helping steady his nerves when the door burst open and Daphne came storming in demanding answers.

"Where have they gone?"

"Daph…"

"Tell me where this duel is to take place."

"I will not."

"Colin, I must prevent this duel from happening," Daphne pleaded.

"After what Hastings has done to you, I should think you'd wish to see him pay."

"We were both equally at fault for what happened in that garden. I was just as eager a participant."

Colin shook his head. "It does not matter. Hastings should have controlled himself, especially if he had no intention of marrying you."

"I love him, Colin. Please tell me where they've gone. I cannot allow this duel to happen. I refuse to lose my brother or the man that I love."

"Daphne, this is an affair of honor. If the duke refuses to marry you, then the duel must take place, but I do not think you should worry yourself. When the duke finds himself staring down the barrel of a pistol, he will remember his honor and agree to wed."

"You cannot guarantee that."

"No, I cannot. But our brother and the duke are both gentlemen of principles and I am certain they will fire their pistols wide."

Daphne was becoming more and more aggravated the longer the conversation continued. Colin knew that if she continued to badger him for the location he would eventually yield. Daphne was his favorite sibling after all, and seeing her in distress was nigh unbearable.

"Colin, you did not see them in that garden. Anthony is too livid to fire wide and Simon is too stubborn to concede."

"You are right. I did not see them in the garden. And thank God no one else saw you either. They will conclude this ugly business, hopefully with no harm to either of them, and your reputation intact."

Daphne went quiet, and then suddenly paled. "Colin…"

"What is it? Are you alright?" He reached out to grab her to ascertain her well-being but she shook him off.

"Someone did see me in that garden. Cressida Cowper."

"Shit," Colin blurted.

"After stealing the prince right out from under her nose there is no one with more motive to spread word of my soiled reputation." She turned toward her brother, and Colin saw a fierce determination behind her blue eyes that he knew he would be powerless against.

"I must speak to them. Colin, tell me where they've gone at once!"

Dawn was beginning to break on the horizon as Colin and Daphne rushed toward Putney Heath as fast as their horses could carry them. They were cutting it fine, and Colin did not know whether or not they would arrive in time to halt the proceedings. But Daphne was leagues ahead of him, pushing her mount to its limits as she raced forward to save a life. Whose life she would spare if they made it in time, neither of them knew.

Colin could see the field ahead of them, though they were still too far away for their presence to be known. When they were a bit closer he could see that the two men had already begun their ten paces. He tried calling ahead to Daphne to stop before she found herself in the middle of the gunfire, but she was too far ahead to hear him.

The men turned around, Anthony with his pistol pointing forward and Simon with his pointed toward the sky. Daphne's mount arrived just as a gun discharged and she was thrown from her horse.

"Daphne!" Colin screamed, his heart dropping into his stomach. No! She had to be alright! If Daphne was dead it was all his fault because he had caved to her demands and told her the location. Colin would never forgive himself.

"Daphne!" he cried out again when his own steed finally arrived and he dismounted. Both Anthony and Simon were kneeling beside Daphne's form on the ground and Colin was just about to join them when Daphne stood up, looking irate, but no worse for wear.

Thank fucking Christ.

Colin breathed again for the first time since he'd heard the pistol fire. Daphne pulled the duke aside to speak with him much to Anthony's chagrin. While his sister's attention was diverted elsewhere Anthony turned to Colin.

"What the hell were you thinking, bringing her out here!? Are you mad?" Anthony shouted at him.

"Anthony, Cressida Cowper knows. Daphne must convince the duke or she will surely be ruined. She had to try."

"Fuck," Anthony swore, running a hand through his hair. "The situation is worse than I thought. Cressida will surely talk."

"Well, hopefully Daphne can persuade the duke. He is her only hope now."

As though waiting for Colin to lead her in, Daphne called out with an announcement to the small gathering of men.

"There will be no need to resume. The duke and I are to be married."

After returning home from the events that took place at Putney Heath, Colin went straight to his desk and penned a letter to Penelope. When the footman he'd rung for appeared, he instructed the man to take the letter and the money Colin provided him over to Featherington House. The money was a bribe for her lady's maid and he impressed upon the man that this was a matter of some urgency. It was of the utmost importance that Penelope received that letter as soon as possible. When the footman departed with his assurances, Colin finally crawled into bed after what had been a very, very long night.

And he was in for another one tonight, but for now, he must rest.

16th June 1813

Dearest gentle reader,

Much like the consequences of a forbidden tryst in the Dark Walk, I believe the aftermath of the events that took place at the Trowbridge Ball last night will still be unfolding days, weeks, perhaps even nine months from now. While a handful of scandals from the festivities have reached this author's ear, I expect that even more shall come to light in the near future. But as I try to print only the truth in my column, we shall both have to wait until mere speculation becomes absolute fact.

In the meantime, there is still much to report, and let us begin with the Featheringtons. Mr. Albion Finch and Miss Philippa Featherington have been seen dancing together at numerous events these past weeks. However, last night, a word between the baron and Mr. Finch caused the young man to depart and sent young Philippa weeping into her mother's arms. What could the baron have said to separate such a happy pair? More importantly, why would he wish to?

As for the youngest Featherington, she was seen in the company of Mr. Colin Bridgerton for a good portion of the evening, that is until her betrothed appeared by her side and whisked her off to the dance floor. They remained there for two dances before Lord Thompson disappeared again for the remainder of the evening. The young man in question has made rather few public appearances of late, and this author wonders why.

And what of our diamond? Miss Bridgerton was seen speaking with Miss Cowper prior to finding her prince. One can only guess what their topic of conversation may have been, but I would wager a guess that Prince Friedrich was at the center of it, especially considering the disappointed look upon Miss Cowper's face. Losing such a match would certainly be just cause for her disenchantment.

Surprisingly, Miss Bridgerton spent very little time with His Highness before taking her leave of the party entirely. Perhaps the young lady had grown ill, which would certainly explain why Viscount Bridgerton escorted her home when the ball had scarcely begun.

As I said, I remain convinced that even more happenings beyond the scope of my vision took place last night. But rest assured, dear reader, with each new revelation I shall be here to report it, regardless of when the scandal comes to light.

Yours truly,
Lady Whistledown