No Words Needed

Love Like That (Words From Him)

Precisely two days after the Featherington Ball, Eloise stormed into the Bridgerton dining room whilst the rest of the clan was peacefully attending breakfast.

"You have some nerve!" Eloise thundered, towering over Colin, swatting him in the arm with a surprising amount of strength. "You. Selfish. Arrogant. Bloody. Coward!" She growled, landing a blow with each punctuated word.

"Eloise!" Violet and Anthony scolded in unison, rising from their seats.

"Ah!" Colin hissed, trying his best to defend himself without using force. Everyone else seemed just as shocked as he did as he searched the room for answers. "What did I do?!"

"Oh, do not play stupid! You know exactly what you did!" Eloise tried to hit him again, but Benedict was faster and held her back.

Colin breathed a sigh of relief and turned to whispered to Benedict over Eloise's head. "Is she mad?"

Benedict shrugged, tightening his grip as Eloise continued to squirm and kick with all her might. "Appears so. You must have done something, brother."

"I haven't the slightest idea. Perhaps we shall call Penelope over. She usually handles El best when she gets like this."

Eloise broke free of Benedict's grasp and lunged at Colin again. "Never speak her name again, you bastard!"

"Eloise!" Her mother yelled, trying to cover Hyacinth and Gregory's ears. "Where on earth did you learn such vulgar language?"

"Why would Pen---ow!" Colin exclaimed as Eloise snuck in another punch to his shoulder. "Bloody hell, Eloise would you stop that? What does this have to do with Pen?"

Anthony hummed in agreement. "Yes, Eloise, please enlighten us as to why you are so righteously angry with our dear brother."

Just then, a staff member entered the dining area carrying several sheets of paper on a silver tray. "The lastest Whistledown," they announced.

"See for yourselves," Eloise huffed as Benedict managed to push her into a seat opposite of him.

For several moments, no one said another word, their eyes scanning the words of the pamphlet. They passed the papers between each other in shock, waiting until either Anthony of Violet said something first.

"What is it? Give it to me," Colin said impatiently. One by one, everyone finished and set down the scandal sheets, turning to look him. Colin read those fateful words ten times over, each time worse than the last. They left a bitter taste of bile on his tongue and a stabbing pain in his chest. With everyone staring at him, he felt like he couldn't breathe. He needed to get out of there. He needed to be anywhere else.

Finally, the Dowager Viscountess turned to her third son and gave him...the look. It was the kind of look that made a child want to crawl into a cupboard and hide for the rest of their days. The kind of look that said, 'I'm not mad, just disappointed.' It made Colin feel so, so much worse. "Tell me it's not true, dear. Tell me you didn't say those things about Miss Featherington."

Colin rushed to defend himself. He couldn't lie, but surely this was all blown out of proportion. "Of course not. I mean, not the way it sounds. I didn't mean it like...I didn't..." He couldn't even find the words. How can you excuse such a thing? How can one treat their dearest friend that way? And sweet, lovely Penelope of all people? He was all of those things Eloise called him. Selfish. Arrogant. A coward. A bloody bastard.

"Poor Penelope," Francesca mumbled into her toast.

"I always liked her," Hyacinth mused sadly. "And I liked you until I read that. Just cruel, brother," she said crossing her arms over her chest and scowling at him.