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Just a few days left before the BER months kick in. Thankfully, I’m finally getting my writing groove back (ngl, winter really messes with my mood, and it’s been quite bothersome). Spring, you can’t come fast enough! I still have a few fics left to finish, so here’s hoping this streak continues.
Anyway, I’m glad this series has wrapped up. What started as a one-shot somehow grew into more—of course I had to explore what happens next. I truly had the time of my life writing it. Greece is definitely on my bucket list now!
Start off with PASSENGER PRINCESS then move on to HER MYKONOS RULE(S)... Warnings? Should I even alert you? The tags will speak for themselves. Expect chaos and un-hingeness, as always. ~emiko
Just a little chapter from my Bridgerton fic that I think you could enjoy as a stand-alone ^^ This is based on my thought that Edmund met Penelope before he died.
By eight years old Penelope Featherington had already snuck in through the servant’s entrance of the Bridgerton house at least once a week for two years. At first, Edmund Bridgerton or Violet Bridgerton would be expeditious in returning her to her house across the street but upon finding that Portia Featherington usually left Penelope to her own devices, with only the Featherington staff for company, the Bridgertons began allowing Penelope to linger. As long as she returned home safely, it didn’t really matter the time she came back.
Penelope was a sweet girl and a good influence on Eloise who was growing more chaotic with age. To be honest, Violet breathed a sigh of relief whenever Penelope visited, knowing that the girls would stick to reading in the drawing room and she wouldn’t have to follow her second daughter like a hawk for at least a few hours. With Penelope around, there was no fear that Eloise would burn Colin’s clothes because he spilled juice on her at breakfast or do something equally vengeful and dangerous.
Today when Penelope walks in, she smiles with all her cheeks, squishing her big eyes into little slits and Violet Bridgerton can not help the warm burst of affection that spreads through her limbs. She squeezes Edmund’s hand tightly because Penelope is not her daughter and as much as Violet wants to, it would be rather improper to squish the little girl into a tight hug. The girl is just simply the epitome of sunshine- all short, chubby limbs and bright yellow dresses and to put it simply, Violet loves her like she was her own. Edmund knows this of course, which is why he lets his wife squish his hand between her fingertips.
“Little Miss Featherington,” Edmund greets, tilting his head. Edmund quite likes Penelope too, Violet thinks, as he calls the Cowper’s daughter “Miss Cowper,” and never adds “Little,” to it like he does with Penelope.
“Hello Lord and Lady Bridgerton,” she says, and her cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink. She’s so cute Violet has to put a hand on her chest.
“Penelope dear, how are-” Violet begins, but like a tornado, Eloise practically spins in front of her friend and insists on all her attention.
“Come Pen! Papa bought us new books!” Eloise exclaims. While Violet is sure that her husband did intend for the books to be shared amongst the girls, her heart grows at the way Eloise automatically assumes, without being prompted, that whatever toys and entertainment belong to her also belong to her best friend Penelope.
“Did you, now, Edmund? Is this on top of the seven new books you bought them last week?” Violet says, smiling at her husband as he tucks his chin into his chest. She chuckles a little. “They are quite spoiled by you, you know.”
“I only wish for them to be on surer intellectual footing when it does come time for them to enter society. I will not allow them to throw themselves at the feet of the first fool who courts them.”
Violet thinks to remind Edmund that he actually has no power in Penelope’s entrance into society but, well, Violet is suddenly overwhelmed by the knowledge that she would just as quickly prevent Penelope from marrying a fool as she would prevent Eloise.
“Thankfully we have many long-” Violet pauses as Eloise nearly knocks over a vase trying to show Penelope some trick or another. Violet closes her eyes tightly. “Long, long, years before that comes to pass.”
“Then explain to me why Portia Featherington acts like she’s running out of time.” Edmund mumbles under his breath and Violet smacks his chest, hiding her giggle with her hand. Yes, in fact, Portia was already trying to set up matches between her daughters and the Bridgerton boys.
“Show empathy, dear. You know very well marriage is at the center of a woman’s worth in the eyes of society. It is the unfortunate reality of their lives. The Featherington girls cannot live with their father forever.”
“And hopefully they will not,” Edmund mumbles and Violet sobers a little, knowing only enough of Archibald’s personality as she could glean from the few unpleasant encounters she had with him when she had entered society.
“I am deeply grateful for the new books, Lord Bridgerton. Mama gave me some money for new books on my birthday but she hasn’t been able to bring me to the bookstore,” Penelope says, squeezing two of the fairytale books to her chest as if she could absorb them through her skin. Violet resists the urge to hold both of the girl’s chubby cheeks in her palms.
“Your birthday? Dearest, when did your birthday pass?” Violet asks. Penelope shuffles on her feet a little.
“Actually…well…it’s today,” Penelope mumbles and Eloise gasps, running up to Penelope and grabbing her hand tightly, practically bouncing on her feet.
“Today?!” Eloise asks, smiling with all her teeth.“Pen, why did you not tell me? I would have gotten you a gift.”
“Oh that’s-”Penelope starts, shaking her head.
“It is your birthday today?” Edmund asks, and Violet knows he’s feeling the same anger she feels bubbling in her stomach right now.
“Yes,” Penelope says, her smile dimming as she senses the anger in Edmund’s voice.
“Surely your mother is waiting for you at home?” Edmund asks and Violet has to put a hand over his.
“Edmund dear-” she mumbles in warning.
“Actually, Mama had to do something in town with Prudence and Phillipa,” Penelope says. Edmund’s hand balls into a fist beneath her hand.
“So you were home by yourself?” he asks. Penelope nods, then suddenly her face splits into a grin that cracks right through Violet’s heart.
“But now I get to spend time with all of you. It’s a wish come true!”
“Oh Penelope, we are so happy to spend your birthday with you. What an honor,” Violet says, her eyes stinging.
Penelope blushes and then is finally pulled away by an eager Eloise.
“That witch,” Edmund says under his breath when the girls are far enough away.
“Hush now dear, she will hear you. That little girl is much too perceptive,” Violet mumbles.
“I can’t believe she would leave her daughter-” Edmund stops as Penelope looks back at them.
“I know dear. I know. Let me call down to the cook, I’m sure we can whip together, at the very least, a cake for the girl-”
“And a hat!” Edmund interrupts.
“A birthday hat!”
“Yes!”
“A marvelous idea!”
“I’ll get the gems!”
“I’ll get the ribbons!”
“It will be the best birthday hat ever!”
“Yes! Yes! We will make it with the girls!”
“Girls, get Daphne upstairs, we are going to start a little project…” Edmund begins.
…………………………………
Hours later, much later than Edmund has ever allowed Penelope to stay, with so much cake and cream in their stomachs that they could burst, the three young girls and the viscount and viscountess, stand in front of Bridgerton house, not quite prepared to bring Penelope back home. Daphne, though not quite as close to Penelope as Eloise, is twirling one of Penelope’s red curls in her fingers. Edmund smiles, as Penelope protectively clutches her hat close to her head. It’s some of his finest work, the foam filled with as many doodles as he could fit. Edmund rubs up and down Violet’s arms as she shivers. It is a particularly windy day. The tails of his waist coat keep wrapping and unwrapping themselves from around his knees.
The sky is beautiful, as it had rained earlier. It was a bright pink and orange with streaks of purple in it. His wife is laughing at something the girls said but he has shut off his ears so that he can let this memory settle into his bones. Families could bring so much joy, it was something he couldn’t have even imagined when he was a child.
It is Colin Bridgerton, who first gallops through Edmund’s reverie, returning from the trip the three Bridgerton boys left for this morning into the next town over. Edmund is prepared to scold his third son for riding so far in front of his older brothers when he sees, by the look on Anthony’s face, that it would be redundant. Instead, Edmund settles on a displeased, fatherly look. That is, until he sees the yellow ribbon trailing off of Penelope’s birthday hat just above his head. Seems like she has lost her grip on the thing and it is now twirling, rather elegantly in the wind.
“My hat!” Penelope explains, and Edmund rushes forward to grab her shoulders so that she doesn’t run after the hat and into the path of the quickly galloping horse. He’s so busy trying to prevent the young girl from hurting herself that he isn’t quick enough to stop the hat from smacking Colin in the middle of his face. Time stops as Colin’s hands instinctively go up to remove the hat from his face but with no hand on the reins, he falls backward. Edmund hears Violet gasp. He exhales. Colin falls into the muddy ground beneath him.
There’s a pause before all of the Bridgertons rush forward.
“Colin! We told you not to race in front of us!” Anthony yells, half angry, half panicked. He jumps off of his horse, quickly looking at Edmund, surely to see if Edmund would be cross with him for allowing his younger brother to get hurt. However, Edmund has no time to reassure his eldest as he is looking over Colin for any wounds, cradling his third son’s head in his palms.
“Are you okay boy? Did you hurt yourself? Edmund asks frantically.
“Oh I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I just lost my grip and the wind-” Edmund distantly hears Penelope’s voice, finding himself once again, thanking the heavens for picking such a good partner as he hears Violet reassuring the young girl while he focuses his attention on his son. Edmund is running his hands down Colin’s arms, checking for broken limbs when, to his surprise. Colin starts laughing.
“Well, that wasn’t very well done of me, was it?” Colin asks, using a very gentle voice as he looks past Edmund at Penelope who is nearly in tears. The birthday girl sniffles, her eyes glossy.
“It was my fault. I’m so sorry-” Penelope says, and Edmund hates the way her voice trembles, as if they’d scold her for such a clear accident.
“It was no trouble! Really! I am fine,” Colin says, looking at the hat in his hands. “Say! This is a birthday hat!” Colin says, then looks at his father for confirmation. Edmund nods at him, with a small smile.
“Miss…”
“Featherington,” Penelope finishes, her voice, tremulous but significantly less scared.
“Miss Featherington! Why, you’re Eloise’s friend!” Colin exclaims, jumping to his feet as if he hadn’t just fallen off his horses. Edmund is amused by the way he brushes imaginary dirt off of Penelope’s hat even though he has held it dutifully in his hands for the entirety of his fall.
Penelope doesn’t say anything and Edmund watches as her big eyes bounce around Colin’s face, her cheeks immediately turning pink. She fiddles with her hair a little. Edmund looks at Violet, who is already looking at him, mirroring his amused look.
“Is it your birthday?” Colin asks. Penelope nods.
“Sorry for causing you such a fright,” Colin says, and hands Penelope her hat. Penelope takes a second too long to reach for the hat. “I know how I can make it up to you!”
Edmund looks at his boy, wondering what he’s up to. Colin pulls a small parcel from his pocket.
“I got this piece of fudge from town today,” Colin says, then quickly turns to his father to ask permission for what he’s about to do. Edmund’s heart explodes at the determined look in his boy’s eyes. He places a hand on Colin’s head, so filled with pride he almost feels his body ascend to the sky. Colin smiles brightly at him, returning his attention to Penelope. “You can have it. Everyone deserves a treat on their birthday!”
Violet looks at Edmund, tears in her eyes, surely a symptom of being so early into her pregnancy. Penelope hesitates, wedging her bottom lip between her teeth.
“Go on then Penelope,” Violet says, encouraging Penelope with a couple of pats between the little girl’s shoulder blades.
“Thank you,” Penelope says softly as she gently and cautiously takes the parcel from Colin’s hands, as if he’d snatch it away at any minute.
………………………………….
Edmund Bridgerton would hate her, Penelope thinks. If he were still alive, he would hate her. Or maybe he hates her now, if feelings like hatred were allowed beyond the gates of heaven, where she is sure the late viscount resides.
She twirls the birthday hat in her hand once, then twice, before putting it in the box she keeps Colin’s letters in and pushing it under her bed. She stores all the love she’s received in her life in here.
In an eleven inch by eleven inch box under her bed.
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