Chapter Text
Daphne Basset, formerly Bridgerton, is not a fool. While her intellect may not lend itself to scholarly pursuits or the composition of new music as her sisters, Daphne’s skill has always been with people. Lying in their bed, her husband curled against her as she stares at the ceiling, her mind does what it does best. It is here, in the aftermath of their marital bliss, just few short months after welcoming a new sister to their family through a wonderful match, that a realization occurs.
“My love,” Simon hums, propping himself up on one arm from his favorite place curled against her chest, gently nudging her chin to have her look him in the eye. “I can almost hear the gears of your brilliant mind turning. What are you planning?”
“I fear I have to ask you a dreadful favor, darling.” She frowns, and he shakes his head.
“You could ask me anything and it would be done, love.”
“We will need to stay in London for the next season. I know you do not care to, and would much rather have a proxy sit in the house of lords, but…” A gentle kiss stops her, and she smiles as he presses another to the tip of her nose.
“Then in London, my love, we shall stay. Your sister Francesca is to debut, after all. She will likely appreciate our presence.”
“Indeed, she shall, but it is not for Franny’s sake that I ask we stay. She is quiet, but self assured.” He raises a brow at her, and she allows herself to admire the play of afternoon sunlight across her husband’s face. “It is for dearest Penny.” Slowly, he sits up, and she follows, letting her legs curl under herself as she thinks.
“Do you mean Miss Penelope, Eloise’s friend? She did spend some of the winter after we married at Aubrey hall with your family, I recall.” Daphne cannot help her rather unladylike snort.
“You are correct, dearest, in that I refer to Penelope, but she is far more than merely ‘Eloise’s friend’. We met her when she and her family, the Featherington’s, first moved to London, just across the square from Bridgerton House. We had been on a picnic in Hyde Park as a family, the boys riding and Eloise running wild, as is her way, when she and Collin came running back to our tent with a young girl in yellow. She and Eloise were perhaps eight years of age at the time, and have been nigh inseparable since. Penny, of course, charmed us all at once, and adapted most amiably to our familial chaos. By the end of the day, I do not think Mama and Papa wanted to give her back to the Baroness.” Small and sweet in her yellow frock and bonnet, Penelope had been bright and witty, charming them all, and young Gregory had been utterly fascinated by her fire-red curls. Something that has not changed. “Nowadays, I think that Mama would trade any of us for her in a heartbeat.”
“I do vaguely recall seeing her and Colin together at balls when we were courting. In fact, I recall that I did dance with her at one point. She was in a corner, and I was rather desperately attempting to dodge Lady Cowper. Her face was quite baffled, seeing me escort Miss Penelope to the floor for the quadrille.” Laughter bubbles from her.
“Oh, I can only imagine! Her daughter, Miss Cressida, is a sour young lady indeed. Cressida is of an age with me, and absolutely wicked to dear Penny. That would have been quite the snub to her!” Her face must have been the picture of confusion.
“She was certainly confused. Miss Featherington was a graceful dancer, even if she seemed stunned that I had asked her at all, and was quite witty as well. She made a remark on the décor that made me laugh almost impolitely.”
“Ah, you have experienced Penny’s signature wit! To hear her throw barbs within a ballroom is a rare pleasure, but the few I managed to share with her during my season were brilliant.”
“Indeed, Miss Penelope is most charming. I must wonder, dearest, why you worry for her sake? There was that mess with Lord Featherington, in the season Kate and Anthony met, but she is a fine young lady who has survived three seasons already.” A sigh pulls her to lean, resting herself against his side, his arm sliding around her shoulders.
“It is just that. Penelope has been on the market for three full seasons now, with not a match in sight. When I had Francesca for tea yesterday that she may have some quiet, she shared something that she heard at the modiste. Penelope is finally being allowed control of her wardrobe, and has placed orders for no less than seven new ball gowns and a dozen new day dresses. Not only that, after what Colin said of her at her Mama’s own ball two seasons past, the whole of the Ton must know that she will not endure his obliviousness.” Shuffling, she looks him in the eye. “Colin has not returned during the season since, busy on his grand tour, after alienating Penelope, and she is the last child living at home with her Mama.”
“And you fear that she will marry another?” Huffing, she snuggles closer.
“Colin is oblivious, but anyone with eyes can tell that he has been in love with her, and her with him, for over a decade now. But Penelope has tolerated scorn and disregard for too long. She is lovely, of course, and the Ton’s own superficiality has kept them from seeing it. Not merely in face and form, but in mind and soul. The moment that they see her, truly see her, she shall have a line of suitors around the square. She and Eloise have had some quarrel, so Penny can no longer go to her when Baroness Featherington becomes too much. Her only other option is marriage, a convent or work, and Penelope always adored children. She would not voice such things to El, but I could tell that Penny wanted marriage and children.”
“Would that not be good? If she is so dear to your family, then a good match should be the goal.” She shakes her head, leaning into his hand when he begins to pet through her hair, untangling any knots that their love had formed.
“Therein lies the problem. Penelope could be content in a marriage without love, for her family has never shown her such. Colin, however, would go utterly mad were she to marry another!” He has always been the most sensitive of her brothers. He fled to travel the continent when he was embarrassed by Lady Crane. Being rejected by Penelope may actually lead her brother to become a hermit! “Not only that, no husband would tolerate her spending such time with us. A Featherington though she may be, Penny has always been one of us.”
“I see the issue.” He presses a kiss to the top of her head. “We must protect your sister, ensure she is not married off by her rather eager Mama, and open Colin’s eyes.”
“By force, if we must.” Doubt as she does that it will be necessary, she will drag them both to Gretna Green herself.
“Very well, darling. You make the plan of attack as my brilliant general, and I shall be the loyal soldier, marching to fulfill your orders once again.”
“Mm, it shall not be just me planning. My Mama, Kate and Sophie shall be needed as well, and my siblings will inevitably involve themselves.”
“Ah,” He nods, seriously. “It shall be a Bridgerton gambit, then. A great game afoot!” He seems utterly delighted by this, and she feels a silly grin crawl onto her face.
“Quite.” A great game afoot, and Bridgertons never lose.
When she arrives for tea the next day, Simon and Anthony off at some meeting of Parliament and Auggie with his nanny, it is with a goal in mind. Humboldt greets her with a bow, and as she breezes into the green drawing room - Kate’s favorite, evidently - she is most pleased to find Benedict, Kate, Violet, Sophie and Francesca already present. El and the children are not, but that is perhaps for the best.
“Good afternoon, darling.” Violet is warm as ever.
“Good afternoon, family.” A quick squeeze to the shoulder for Fran, a smile to Benedict, and a warm nod to Kate, and Daphne beams as she perches on the edge of the settee. “It is benediction that we are all here. Frannie, would you be so kind as to tell the family what you heard at the modiste the other day regarding our dear sister?” Fran sets her cup in her saucer politely, and nods.
“Dearest Penny has finally been allowed permission to make her visits to the modiste herself, as her eldest sister Prudence was married this past off season to Mister Harry Dankworth. Evidently, Lady Featherington has rather given up on her, foolishly.” Benedict coughs and splutters.
“Shit.” He hisses, and Daphne nods as she accepts her cup from Violet.
“I would not be so vulgar, but I do agree.”
“Pardon, but I do fear that you have all lost me, family. Miss Featherington being allowed some choice over her wardrobe is lovely, is it not?” Kate seems almost aglow, and Daphne mentally decides she ought to begin the wager pool with Benedict today. She’ll find a time to discuss timelines later. It appears little Edmund will have a sibling soon. Her estimate is no more than two months before an announcement. “I mean no offense, but her current dresses…”
“Penelope’s current dresses, are, I say this as an artist and as I would if any of my sisters wore such clothes, entirely unflattering upon her figure.” Benedict sighs. “Damn it all. I need better drinks. Forgive us, mother.” Ducking to the hall, he flags a servant.
“Dear ones, I fear that in my old age, I have yet to catch the point.” Violet is as regal as ever, but Daphne can feel the radiating disapproval. Day drinking, foul language, discussion of a young lady's figure!
“Answer us this, Mama.” Daphne sets her tea aside. Indeed, they will need something stronger. “How do you think the notably shallow Ton will react upon realizing that our darling Penny is not only brilliant and witty, but also utterly lovely?” By the look on Sophie's face, she understands.
“They will appreciate her as they ought to have since her debut.” Violet declares, as if it is the most obvious answer in the world and has no deeper implications.
“And she shall have suitors lined out the door.” Benedict grumbles, settling back onto the sofa with one of Anthony’s nicer decanters of brandy.
“All in vain, of course. Truly, I do not see an issue.” Kate looks between them. “Yes, they will respect her more, and some men may turn eyes upon her, but she is not available for courtship. If anything, Colin will be in for a lovely surprise when he returns.”
“Kate, I fear to say I have no idea what you mean." Sophie is as polite as ever - still finding her footing among them. Benedict, of course, sends her a soft, mushy look.
"Agreed, but I have not had nearly enough brandy to be so confused.” Sadly, she does not allow her brother to pass her a glass, though Sophie does accept. The doctor has yet to confirm anything, but she has her suspicions.
“Are…Penelope and Colin are engaged, are they not?” Kate, despite her own confusion, slowly extends her cup towards Benedict as well, allowing him to add a splash to her tea. “Or are courting, at the least? I had merely assumed they had made the arrangement and were waiting for her to be a bit older, as she debuted at a rather young age.” Daphne grimaces at the reminder.
“If only it were that simple.” Fran sighs. “Colin is oblivious. I adore him a great deal, Mama, but even you must admit…” Violet hems and haws.
“He was engaged to her cousin.” Benedict grumbles. “Her cousin, mother.”
“The…debacle with Lady Crane-”
“She deceived him and intended to entrap him.” Fran’s voice is shockingly sharp. “I do not hate, Mama, but there is truly no care in my heart for Lady Crane.”
“Candidly, when Colin announced their engagement to her in front of Penelope, I restrained Hyacinth and Gregory from re-enacting the story of Cain and Abel with a pal mal mallet only by bribing them with chocolates.” Ben sighs. “I fear if he saw her out of his life entirely, no amount of Parisian sweets would stop him from going mad. He would either re-enact the fate of Ophelia, kidnap her to Gretna Green, or claim that she has ruined him.”
“You mean to say that - Colin and Miss Featherington are not engaged?” Kate sets her cup and saucer on the table, looking between each of them. “I - I am sorry but that feels impossible. He refers to her by a shortened version of her Christian name, they stand almost touching at all times, not to mention that he dances with her at every event - at the Featherington ball, I saw him lead her away by the wrist in front of her mother. Even Lady Danbury was certain that there was something!”
“Colin is far too used to having her around. Often, I have feared that he has forgotten that she is indeed a young lady of gentle breeding and virtue.” Violet admits.
“Then we need to remind him of that, while also supporting Penny and encouraging them.” Ben declares, and Fran hums in disagreement.
“No. Colin ought to have a chance to offer his suit, yes. That said, as much as we want to hold onto Penny, she has every right to pursue any suitor she chooses.”
“She has as much right to happiness as any of us.” Sophie's warm eyes are firm, and Benedict, nearly curled against his wife, nods. Reluctantly, Daphne does agree.
“While she has been in love with Colin for a very long time, the debacle with Lady Crane and his consistent travels cannot have further endeared her to him.”
“Not to mention what he said after her mother’s ball.” Fran sighs, and all heads slowly turn towards her. That reckless declaration, after being repeated in Whistledown, had been practically banned from conversation within their home. Even Eloise had yelled about it, despite her sudden refusal to even speak of Penny. Colin had been lucky, to leave when he did. Poor Penny had no such luck. Lady Featherington had removed herself and her daughter to relatives in the North just two days after the publishing of the article, and had refused to acknowledge them throughout last season, according to Violet's letters. Daphne had not been able to return to London, a fire having struck the village near Clyvedon. Between that and Auggie beginning to walk, they had been far too busy for her to even help Benedict search for his mysterious 'Lady in Silver'.
“Francesca, dearest...” Violet seems at a loss for words.
“Oh, please, it was in Whistledown not a day later! The entire Ton, nay, all of London, has heard of it by now. At this juncture, if she does anything less than slap him when she sees him next, I shall do so for her.” Francesca rarely raises her voice. Daphne, lips pursed, takes a sip of tea. It is entirely justified.
“That rumor-monger has been kind to us, yes, but her cruelty to Pen knows no bounds.” The wicked words had saved her from Berbrooke and smoothed over Kate and Anthony's scandal, along with confirming their ruse for Sophie's sake somehow, but if Daphne reads one more barb about Penelope, she may burn every print shop in London to ash herself.
“Publishing what Colin said of her was indeed too far.” Kate, in true Bridgerton fashion, has evidently decided to adore Penelope. Not shocking, in truth, anyone who met Pen would adore her.
“It’s a bigger problem than just that. ” Ben takes the bottle back. “Word has long since spread through the gentleman’s clubs of what Colin said, and such a thing would have ruined Penny, but it has been overridden all too readily. There’s been a new declaration in regards to the Featherington estate. I have discussed it with Anthony, but had no idea how to tell any of you." He takes a large swig. "The first male grandchild of the family shall inherit the estate and title.” The room goes entirely still.
“Surely not!” Violet’s voice shakes, her hand to her throat. “The elder two sisters are indeed wed, but Penelope… Oh, oh, good heavens.” Violet is pale, fanning herself gently as Francesca, confused and concerned, rubs her back. Daphne feels more nauseous than she ever was when pregnant with Auggie. It was thanks to Whistledown's favor and the protection of her family that Daphne escaped Lord Berbrooke. Penelope has neither of those things. Violet extends her cup to Benedict, who hesitates only a moment before adding a splash of brandy to her tea. Violet takes a bracing sip.
“Miss Penelope is the last remaining daughter, in a family with no male protector, who has just been forsworn by the man that several people thought she was engaged to, if not courting in secret. Her mother does not care for her well-being, her sisters are dismissive, she is entirely alone after her quarrel with Eloise, and there will be many men eyeing the title. Lady Featherington will not care a whit if her daughter is happy or safe, so long as her new husband is wealthy enough to balance the estate’s debts and there is an heir.” Kate’s jaw trembles.
“There are far too many unscrupulous men in this city who would not care what great harm they had to do to her in order to gain a title.” Fran blinks away tears as Benedict speaks, and Daphne briefly wonders if Simon may have a distant cousin or someone they could invite to London to introduce to Penelope. Even a hollow courtship leading nowhere would deter most, when backed by a ducal household; and a farce of a courtship had turned out quite well for them. This...whomever shared this information must have no care at all for Penelope, and it makes her almost dizzy with rage.
“Do you mean that?” A shaky voice comes from the doorway, and Daphne startles to see Eloise standing there. “Would - would these men hurt Pen just for a title? It would not even be theirs, it would belong to their son!”
“That will not matter to most of them. The power of it would be in their hands until their son came of age.” Benedict tries to be gentle with his tone, but it does no good, El recoiling as if struck.
“Pen has never cared about- about titles or marriage or such nonsense! We said that if she could not find a love match, she and I would be spinsters together. She would never marry such a man.” As she stands, Daphne cannot be sure whom El is trying to convince here.
“Eloise, you must know, there are…there are ways for men to ruin a young lady and force a marriage.” The very thing had almost happened to her at the hands of Berbrooke, after all. “She would have no say.”
“Pen would sooner die!” Her sister’s fire has always been bright, and never brighter than when protecting, but something in her is odd now, hurt and angry, searing herself. “She is clever and wicked when she must be, she would find an answer!”
“Such methods do not leave the lady a choice.” Setting a hand on El’s shoulder, Daphne tries her best to reassure. “But, if we stand with her, if we support her, we may be able to help her.”
“Help her?” Eloise snaps, jerking away. “Why should we- Her family can do so!”
“There is not a man in her family, dearest.” The truth is bitter, even from their mother. “They have no way to protect her, unless one of her new brothers is willing to do so, but we know not their character.”
“Then her sisters, surely!” The snort comes, shockingly, from Francesca.
“Eloise, we have seen her sisters. We have met them, you took tea with them a few times. Do you truly believe Prudence and Phillipa, both of whom have been married over a year now, would embroil themselves and their husbands in a scandal for Penelope’s sake?” For a long moment, Eloise stands there, fists balled in her skirts, shaking with anger.
“I argued with her. Terribly. On the night of her mother’s ball. We called each other awful, horrible things and said terrible things about one another. I regret only half of what I said, and I am sure she regrets absolutely nothing that she has said or done. But - but for a very long time, she was my friend. And even if that means nothing now, then she is another woman who does not deserve such a fate. I will not be her friend again. You cannot make me.” It is more than Daphne would have dared hope for. Perhaps her solitude has done El some good.
“We would not try.” Daphne reassures, though she doubts it means anything.
“I will not seek her out or hold her hand or listen to her woes, but if you ask for my assistance in this matter, I shall lend it.”
“That is all we could ask of you.” Daphne nods, leading El to the settee. “It will be a game of sorts. The Ton looks to us, and listens when the Bridgerton family speaks. Combining that with the power of the Duchess of Hastings, we will be able to protect her well. So long as we keep her close, no one will dare to harm her for fear of crossing us.”
“That can't be all we do.” El snaps, but even dressed as a young lady, she looks young and scared. “Surely we can do – do something!”
“We have no right.” Kate has set aside her tea, biting at her lip as she thinks. “Miss Penelope is not a Bridgerton.”
“Oh please,” Benedict, clearly on at least his second glass of brandy, snorts. “Mother would trade any of us for Penny in a heartbeat.”
“I would never-” Violet blusters, and El shakes her head, a bitter-sweet smile on her face.
“As children, in our little pranks, we would often have Pen distract you if we were at risk of being caught. You never suspected her, and forgave her more easily. For goodness sake, even her middle name fits!”
“Pardon?” Kate raises a brow. “Her name?” Daphne herself is lost as well.
“Her full legal name is Penelope Anne Iolanthe Featherington.” El snatches a biscuit, biting into it viciously. “She was fostered with relatives on the continent as a child, they gave her an extra middle name.”
“I was unaware she had spent any time outside of England.” Violet seems taken aback by this. “Iolanthe is such a lovely name, and it does sit precisely after Hyacinth's.”
“It means 'violet tinted dawn'.” She had spent ages researching names when she realized she was with child. Auggie's name, August, means 'great' or 'magnificent'. “It really is perfect. But, El, where on the continent do these relatives live?”
“Somewhere near Germany I believe. Pen is fluent. She did not speak of it much, I always thought it was unpleasant memories.” She shrugs, as if this could not truly change the entire strategy. “They were relatives on her Mama's side, so I cannot imagine they were pleasant people.” Kate clears her throat and rises, before looking around the room.
“I believe we should move to the billiards room or study. If we are to plan properly, then we will need more space. And perhaps more brandy.”
“An excellent idea.” Daphne brushes her skirts off as she stands. “We shall help Penny shine brighter than any jewel while still protecting her, and we shall keep Colin from going utterly mad upon realizing he is in love with her as well.” Eloise chokes on her biscuit.
“He is what?!”