Michael did not enjoy his time when he was in London. He much preferred the Scottish countryside where the rules were much less strict. In London he felt cornered and stifled as if he could not be his true self. He was regretting agreeing to attend Lady Cowper's ball in his cousin's stead. Michael knew that his reputation proceeded him. Although he was not a member or the peerage and did not hold a title, he was the closest relation to the Earl of Kilmartin and had a quite a substantial fortune himself. He had also been known since Eton as the merry rake and had probably bedded more women than Casanova himself but that did not stop the matchmaking mamas from throwing their daughters at him. Michael knew the opinion of the mamas of the ton; that reformed rakes made the best of husbands. But Michael was not a reformed rake, and he was not here for himself, he was to find a bride for his cousin.
As he entered into the ballroom, he was immediately accosted by his host Lord and Lady Cowper who quickly introduced him to their daughter Lady Cressida Cowper. Lady Cressida was indeed beautiful with her tall and slender figure and ice blonde hair. There was a certain hardness to her but perhaps that was do to her severe hairstyle that pulled at her features. Michael himself preferred when ladies kept their hair down. He knew that it was not fashionable but he rather liked it when he could run his hands through a woman's silky locks.
"It is a pleasure to meet you Miss Cowper," said Michael as he placed a kiss on her outstretched hand.
Cressida curtsied. "The pleasure is all mine Mr. Stirling," she purred seductively.
Michael cleared his throat. "I hope that you will save me a dance Miss Cowper, perhaps a waltz if you are allowed," asked Michael as he looked towards her mother for permission.
Lady Cowper nodded to her daughter while Cressida looked back towards him. "I would be delighted to accept sir." Michael nodded and signed her dance card before making his excuses and made his way across the ballroom. He did not think that Miss Cowper would be John's type, but he had only met the young lady minutes ago. The waltz allowed for some conversation and that way her would be able to get a better idea of the type of lady that she was. He quickly obtained a glass of champagne and found a darkened alcove where he watched the young ladies of the ton to see who a match for his dear cousin could be.
Most of the young ladies seemed the same to him. They flit around the ballroom in their pretty gowns listing off their accomplishments to prospective gentlemen who barely listened to them. He was becoming exceedingly bored when he noticed a pair of young ladies in front of him talking quietly. One was taller with chestnut brown hair and pretty face, and she was greeting what looked to be her friend, a shorter young lady that stood beside her. It was the shorter friend that intrigued him. She was petite with the most deliciously Rubenesque form he had ever seen. He could only see her profile but could tell that her face was equally as lovely, and her hair was the brightest red he had ever seen that fell like a flame down her back. The taller girl was taking the shorter girl by her hand and was bringing her over to greet her family. Michael stood and walked over to a nearby column where her could get better view of the woman.
Michael watched as the titian haired goddess greeted the family and quickly realized that this family was the Bridgerton's He had been to Eton with Anthony, the current viscount and his younger brother Benedict. He recalled the conversation that he had with Colin Bridgerton at Mondrich's and wondered if this young lady was who he had been talking about. She certainly fit the description of being petite and having red hair but had Colin not said that the girl was a wallflower? This young lady was beautiful. If the gentlemen in London thought that this woman was a wallflower than there was something clearly wrongly with them. It was then that dancing was announced by Lord Cowper and Michael watched as Benedict asked the young lady to dance. When the quadrille was over, she danced with Viscount Bridgerton followed by the Duke of Hastings. Michael, who was now back to sitting in the darkened alcove observed the duke depositing the red head on the edge of the ball room floor just in front of him. The duke then set out to find the lady a glass of lemonade. Michael was just about to stand to introduce himself when the young lady was joined by two of her friends. One was the young lady who she was with before and the other who he thought might be Viscount Bridgerton's fiancé. He was close enough that he could hear their conversation and could hear that the petite woman was somewhat nervous about the approaching Miss Cowper.
"Kate, Eloise," he heard Miss Cowper greet. 'Why had she not greeted the red head?' thought Michael as he leaned in closer.
"Penelope is here as well Cressida," he heard the taller girl say. 'So, this was the young lady Colin Bridgerton had been speaking about.' He had remembered that the lady Colin Bridgerton was moaning about was named Penelope.
Miss Cowper had a sneer of her face that Michael did not like. This woman seemed to have a mean streak. "Oh yes. Dear Penelope. I am surprised to you see you here."
"And why is that Cressida?" he heard the other girl ask.
"Well, just with everything that was printed in Lady Whistledown's column," said Miss Cowper. 'Who is Lady Whistledown," thought Michael. "I did not think you had the nerve to show your face. To think, someone that you were so close with said such unspeakable things. How embarrassing for you."
Michael felt the anger slowing building in his chest. What had Miss Featherington done to Miss Cowper for her to treat her in such a way. His cousin John, the Earl of Kilmartin had often been picked on during his youth for being quiet and scholarly and Michael had always been rising to his defense. He despised bullies. He decided then and there that Miss Cowper, despite her outwardly beauty would not make an appropriate wife for his cousin.
"Well clearly, as I am here Cressida, I do have the nerve," he heard Miss Featherington reply. He inwardly cheered for her as he continued to listen to the conversation.
Miss Cowper clearly did not like that her insults were not hitting their mark because it was then that she went for the kill. "I have to say that is a lovely dress Penelope," as her disdainful gaze raked over Miss Featherington's form. It does me good to see you looking so well. The adjustments that Madame Delacroix have made have done wonders for your figure."
The anger inside Michael was quickly reaching a boiling point. He heard the viscount's fiancé whose name he deduced to be Kate say, "Whatever are you implying Cressida?"
"Oh, well just that Madame Delacroix has managed to make our dear Penelope look less fat. I always worry for you. It is so unhealthy for young ladies of our age to weigh more than ten stone. Perhaps your new gowns will motivate you to lose the extra weight."
Michael could take no more. His ears were ringing, and his hands were clenched into fists. He came out from his hiding spot and approached the young women.
"Ladies," he said before bowing. He eyes locked with the young Miss Featherington, and she was even prettier than he thought. He heard Miss Cowper say his name and mention something about the dance that he had asked her for earlier in the evening.
"I am so sorry to interrupt your conversation but Miss," he said his eyes never leaving Miss Featherington's. "I have seen you dancing all night and I have been working up the courage to ask you to dance with me. Would you do me the honor?"
He watched as Penelope looked behind her as if she thought he was looking to dance with someone other than her.
"But you cannot dance with her," he heard Cressida say loudly. They were starting to attract stares from across the ballroom. "You have not been introduced. That would be incredibly ill bred."
Michael seethed at Miss Cowper's words. She had the audacity to accuse him of being ill bred after what she just said to Miss Featherington. He was grateful when one of the young women that flanked Miss Featherington's side offered to introduce them.
"Mr. Stirling," said the woman he did not know but apparently knew him. "Please allow me to introduce you to Miss Penelope Featherington. Penelope this is Mr. Michael Stirling, cousin to the Earl of Kilmartin."
Miss Featherington gave him a beautiful soft smile. "It is my pleasure to meet you Mr. Stirling and yes I would be delighted to dance with you," she replied as she took his hand.
"But Mr. Stirling, you promised this dance to me," Miss Cowper whined at him. He turned to her and gave her his most menacing stare. "I apologize Miss Cowper, but I would prefer to rescind my invitation as I would like to dance with Miss Featherington instead."
Miss Cowper's jaw dropped before she huffed away in anger. He turned towards Miss Featherington. "I do hate a bully," he said before escorting her to the floor.
Michael could see that Miss Featherington was still processing what happened a few moment's ago. "Penny for your thoughts Miss Featherington?"
"I was just thinking that no one has ever stood up for me like that before. I am assuming that you heard what she was saying about me," said Miss Featherington as they stood in position for the waltz.
"Yes, I did. And Miss Cowper's words could not have been further from the truth. I have been unable to keep my eyes off of you all night. I was truthful when I said that I was plucking up the courage to ask you for a dance," Michael said softly.
"Mr. Stirling," Miss Featherington gently admonished as a delicious blush spread from her neck towards her face. This Colin Bridgerton was a fool if he did not see the beautiful woman that was right under his nose. "I fear that we are attracting an audience with our dance."
Michael ripped his eyes from Penelope's adorable face and looked about the room. They were indeed attracting a great many stares. He looked over to the Bridgerton family. The ladies seemed delighted that Penelope was dancing with him, the gentlemen were not as pleased. Anthony, Benedict and the Duke of Hastings were looking at him with concern. They clearly knew of his reputation and did not like him dancing with Miss Featherington.
"Only because you are so beautiful Miss Featherington," replied Michael which earned a laugh from Penelope.
"Why are you laughing?" asked Michael.
"Just you saying that I am beautiful. I am not beautiful Mr. Stirling. You do not need to try to flatter me. I am grateful that you stood up for me and for the dance. I rarely get the chance to."
Michael was confused. "Did Miss Featherington really not think she was beautiful or that he as dancing with her out of pity?'
"Miss Featherington," said Michael as he twirled her around the ball room. "I would not have asked to dance if I did not want to. And you are beautiful, the most beautiful lady in this room I believe. Do not doubt yourself." It was then that the dance ended, and he escorted her off the floor.
"May I call on you tomorrow, Miss Featherington?" asked Michael quietly. Michael was not one to call on young ladies especially those who were gently bred but something about Miss Featherington intrigued him. He wanted to get to know her better.
"You truly wish to?" Miss Featherington replied disbelievingly.
"I do."
"If you truly wish to call on me, then yes I will be happy to see you."
"Oh, and please call me Michael Miss Featherington, everyone does."
Another delightful blush spread across her cheeks. "Michael then. And you must call me Penelope."
Michael smiled. He reached out to touch a curl that had fallen over shoulder and gently tugged on it. "Until tomorrow, Penelope," he replied before bowing and taking his leave.