It Is Me

Chapter 1: I, Penelope

It came as no surprise that Penelope had resigned herself to clinging to the wall at the ball that night. She wrung her gloved hands and fiddled with her fingers as her eyes roamed over the men and women spinning and twirling gracefully, the smooth hum of a string quartet resounding throughout the room. The music mingled with the chatter to create a pleasant ambience.

She glanced over at Eloise from across the room. The second eldest Bridgerton daughter was stood beside Anthony, her arms folded and her nose scrunched. It appeared as though she had been thrust into a conversation with a Lord whose name Penelope could not recall at that moment. Penelope would not have approached Eloise regardless of if she were already engaged in conversation; she could not remember the last time she had approached her former-best friend, or vice versa.

She took a couple of inconspicuous steps closer to a pair of gentlemen (whose conversation she had only caught in bits and pieces) in order to better hear what they were saying, as they had lowered their volume as their discussion had progressed. This did little to eradicate Penelope's intrigue, only increasing the appetite of her insatiable curiosity. After all, most of the stories that the ton would be eager to hear were often first told in hushed voices. As the story began to piece itself together, Penelope had to bite her lip to stifle a smile and a giggle.

She was so enraptured by the tale that she had failed to pick up on the approaching footsteps of Colin Bridgerton.

"Good evening, Pen." Colin greeted brightly.

She flinched and turned to face him, plastering a courteous smile on her face.

"Hello, Colin." she replied. "I trust that you have had an entertaining evening?"

"Your trust is misplaced. I must confess that this is a rather dull affair," Colin returned, a smirk playing on his lips as he glanced around the room. "Which is why I decided to seek your company. I was hoping you would be able to offer me some stimulating conversation, and perhaps even a dance?"

Penelope's cheeks began to burn and ache. She could not allow herself to expose her pain in front of Colin, as satisfying as it would be to weaponize her hurt feelings to wound the very man who had done this to her.

She had to refrain from clenching her fists and questioning if he was going to belittle her behind her back in front of all those men (or why he would want to dance with her in the first place when the idea of courting her was preposterous, if not extremely humorous).

And, yet, she had no choice but to be pleasant to him. It was not as though she had friends, or even simply allies, in abundance.

She inhaled and exhaled deeply.

"I am afraid I cannot offer you either." she answered, trying and failing to prevent her voice from trembling. Keeping that smile on her face hurt almost as much as Colin's words, but she continued her facade nonetheless. "I am feeling rather faint all of a sudden. I had better get some air."

With that, Penelope attempted to make her escape, walking a few steps past him in the direction of the door.

Colin's face fell to form an expression of concern. He caught up with her within a few strides and grabbed her wrist in as gentle a manner as possible, yet she still froze and tensed at his touch.

"I shall escort you outside, then." Colin insisted.

She turned to face him, her eyes darting frantically between his hand wrapped around her wrist to his softened face.

"It may seem improper if you are to escort me unchaperoned to a place so remote." Penelope replied, her smile weakening. She tugged her wrist from his grasp. She could not help but remark, "And, I dare say you would not appreciate people thinking such things of you and I."

The comment came out far more biting than intended, but perhaps the venom with which she spoke fit well with her true feelings.

She internally winced when his brows furrowed. Colin examined her face, taking note of the usual pink hue of her cheeks.

"You look rather well, Pen. I believe something else is the matter." Colin speculated. He paused before hesitantly adding, "Perhaps me."

She shook her head, her eyes landing on the ground.

"No." Penelope asserted. "It is me."

She swallowed her saliva and cleared her throat. She finally gathered enough courage to briefly meet Colin's gaze for a final time, her face flickering unnervingly between the facade and the pain it concealed.

"I really am feeling rather unwell, Colin. You must excuse me."