No Words Needed

Let It Go

Following her "reconciliation" with the third and fifth Bridgerton siblings, Penelope made one startling revelation. That perhaps, Colin and Eloise were part of the reason she had no suitors. This season at least. It took several reminders for Eloise to realize that their original plan of becoming spinsters together may no longer be a reality. Even still, the feisty brunette was incredibly vocal about her distaste towards any man who even dared to look in Penelope's direction. Colin was no better, what with the withering stares he was currently sending Mister Dankworth from across the room.

"Pen, Dankworth is an absolute fatwit," Colin all but whined. "Even his name suggests as much! You can't possibly be considering dancing with him."

"Mister Dankworth has already signed my card, Colin," Penelope explained, holding up her wrist to show the proof, though both of her friends continued to ignore her.

Eloise slid in between them, staring very obviously at the man in question as she chimed in. "Well, if the man does indeed possess at least one brain cell, he'll feign an illness before the quadrille is to be begin."

"Eloise!" Penelope scolded, though it once again fell on deaf ears. It was as if she wasn't even there as the two siblings continued their conversation.

"I believe you're giving the man too much credit, sister. Just earlier at the refreshments table, I witnessed Dankworth choke on a mouthful of lemonade. He may have lost that last brain cell when his oxygen was cut off," Colin jested.

Eloise smirked. "If he can't even breathe and drink properly, how can he be expected to carry out a dance with our Penelope? Or a proper conversation," she said, her voice sounding more bitter than Penelope had ever heard it. She almost sounded like Cressida Cowper. Almost. No one was truly that horrible, not even Lady Whistledown. Penelope was glad she had given all that up, because she wanted no part of this judgment party.

"Would you two stop it!" Penelope finally yelled when she reached her boiling point. "I am beginning to understand why I have yet to receive one single suitor this year, despite Madame Delacroix's beautiful new gowns," she said, gesturing to the very pretty blue one she was wearing now. She thanked the Lord that her Mama finally let her choose her own wardrobe this year.

Colin looked immediately remorseful. "Pen, we weren't trying to---" He tried to say, but Penelope cut him off.

"I know, Colin," she said softly. "But it seems that neither of you understand what it is like to be in my shoes. Marriage, for me, is not an option. It is necessary. I know that nobody expects it will ever happen for me," Penelope said a little self pityingly while staring at the floor. "I didn't even expect it. I was certain that after Colin's comment last year, I would be officially on the shelf." Colin made a pained face at that and looked like he wanted to object, but she continued. "Finally, after three years in society, a decent man has shown a slight interest in me. Instead of supporting me, all you two can do is prattle on about how Mister Dankworth choked on his lemonade." At this point, she felt much like Lady Violet Bridgerton, scolding the two children on their manners. At least they had the sense to look ashamed. "Who among us has not made a fool of ourselves at least once? I of all people cannot cast judgement onto him. Frankly, I do not care about all of the superficiality anymore. I do not care that Mister Dankworth does not read poetry or understand art or history or politics. I do not care because I cannot. Women like me cannot afford to be picky."

"Women like you?" "What the devil is that supposed to mean?" Colin and Eloise asked at the same time in very similar tones of voice.

This time, it was Penelope who ignored them. "As of now, Mister Dankworth is my only means of escaping my current situation. He is kind, he respects me, and above all, he is here." She looked between the two of them and sighed. Of all the moments to choose from, her tears had picked the worst moment to show themselves. What ever happened to being strong? "Now if you'll excuse me, I need a bit of air before the quadrille," Penelope said, trying to keep her voice even.