+18 (sexual content, please do not read it if you are a minor)
summary:Lady [y/n] is promised to marry a French man, but she feels unprepared for her nuptial night.
notes:my first smut/sexual writing, so please be patient and leave a comment if you liked it! I’d really like to know!
words:+7.900
She shouldn’t be about to do what her heart desired — either way, there she was, grasping at her yellow and pink dress, stressing out her nerves with anxiety dripping from her face. Allowing one last glance around before coming into the Bridgerton mansion, [y/n] sighed, hoping one last deep breath would be enough to give her the right amount of courage she’d need.
The house was full, but not as full as it could be. In a corner next to the garden, sitting around a marble table filled with sweets and tea, Lady Bridgerton, Eloise, Anthony, Benedict, and Penelope could be found. That was more people than [y/n] meant to meet, but she supposed it could happen, being that the person she longed to talk to was a Bridgerton.
“Good afternoon, Lady Bridgerton, Lord Bridgerton,” [y/n] started to salute. “Benedict, Eloise and Penelope, pleased to see you all.”
They all smiled and replied, and Penelope dragged in closer against Eloise, offering the butler that accompanied [y/n] an empty space to place a chair. The visit couldn’t reckon whether she should be thankful for being placed closer to the person she wanted to talk to or not.
“What are you doing here today, dear?” asked Lady Bridgerton, with a motherly smile. Any other person in town asking that question would be considered rude, but since it was Violet, [y/n] had no thought of her being unmannered. “I thought you should be preparing for your wedding day.”
She should, by the way. Violet Bridgerton had a good point, but then what she was there to do could also be deemed as preparing for the ceremonial occasion.
“Or at least be preparing for tonight’s ball, huh?” added Penelope, noticing [y/n] had widened her eyes and seemed to be in a shocking state.
[y/n] smiled at the girl, what she supposed could be viewed as a “thank you”.
“I do have much preparing to do, for bothoccasions — that is correct.” She had no idea where she was going to end her sentence, “But I felt like stopping by to visit the family I love most in the world.”
Lady Bridgerton couldn’t help but tilt her head in a happy expression. She’d seen [y/n] grow up to be a beautiful lady, and in one day she’d be wed. Violet could only hope one day all of her children would’ve passed through the same process too.
“Lady [y/n] probably wants the girls’ opinions towards flowers and dresses,” suggested Benedict, speaking up. He couldn’t be farther from the truth, though. [y/n] wasn’t there for the girls, especially because Eloise was the only Bridgerton girl around, and she did not like wedding and party planning.
Lady [y/n] was there for Anthony Bridgerton.
For remarkably private and personal reasons.
“Oh, I suppose I could help as well,” said Lady Bridgeton, leaning in over the table. “I don’t suppose I’m overlyout of fashion.”
“Oh, Lady Bridgerton!” exclaimed both girls that were not Bridgerton. Eloise just looked bored.
The men looked rather lost in the conversation, and they seemed to be looking for an excuse to get out of there the moment the ladies started discussing garments for that evening’s ball. Unfortunately for the men, a servant appeared with a plate filled with cookies, and so they had to wait a little longer to get out.
“So, Lady [y/n],” started saying Eloise, but [y/n] interrupted her.
“Please, call me [y/n] only,” she said, “I suppose we are very much family by now.”
Eloise smiled and rephrased: “[y/n], will your husband-to-be make an appearance tonight at the ball?”
Penelope stared at [y/n], curious, too.
No, he wouldn’t be coming along, because he was going to be merely able to arrive in London onthe wedding day, more often than not just in time. None of the Bridgerton had met Lord Jean Blanc yet — and neither had Lady [y/n]. It was an arranged matrimony, a desire of a father that most longed for his only daughter not only to marry well but to marry a French gentleman, as it was his dying mother’s last wish. The old lady had a thing for the French, and she had planned her granddaughter’s whole life based on her own conception. Even though [y/n] had no recollection of the old woman whatsoever, her father did everything in his power for his mother’s wish to come true.
Lady [y/n] had never objected to espousing Lord Blanc, and she was very happy to accept a destiny chosen to her instead of one she’d have to make on her own. That was until last night, when her dear mother told her what to expect for the wedding night. Oh, [y/n] was not expecting that!
She knew a simple version of what her mother had told her — she would lay in bed with her lovely husband and, magically, she supposed, she would give birth to a baby nine months later. It was that, in a way, but, Lord, there was so much more!
And her mother, deciding upon doing differently from what was done to her very self, let [y/n] on everything. All the details and positions, and she even added the father’s own personal preferences, supposing it could be the same with Lord Blanc.
Needless to say, [y/n] did not sleep. She laid awake, turning around in bed, trying not to visualize the sexual positions, trying not to feel the pain beforehand. However, her eyes could not help but wonder how Lord Blanc would look like and if he would be hairless like her father (her mother’s words).
[y/n] was in despair. She couldn’t do those things with Jean, poor man. A maid added, before breakfast upon her questions, that the French were much more sexual beings than the British, and [y/n] could not allow herself embarrassment or pain. But how could she manage that? She was going to marry a sex machine, and she was a bloody virgin!
She knew, however, a man of gossip, and that the chitchat surrounding him suggested he was as sexual as a French man. [y/n] had only one choice: talk to Anthony Bridgerton.
They were friends. They were very, veryclose. Yes, when [y/n] got older, being a Lady didn’t allow her much fun as being a Lord allowed Anthony, but they still talked and confabbed together almost every ball. She could ask him those things, right?
I mean, it wasn’t very “ladylike” but [y/n] supposed the whole wedding night talk was not ladylike at all, but she had already heard it. She was already inthe conversation. The least she could do was ask lord Bridgerton a favour.
She tried to picture herself in front of a man she barely knew, naked with all her insecurities and stretch marks and having to do all the things her mother instructed her to do: open legs, spread arms and so on; but she just couldn’t. Saying it wasn’t the same as showing — but not in any universe would she ask her mother to show her how to… make babies.
So her only option was to find a man she trusted as deeply as herself, but much more experienced in lovemaking than herself.
“…had no idea what he could possibly be wanting of me…”
“Oh, Eloise, dear! He was courting you!”
“He was not!”
Eloise Bridgerton’s shout was the phrase capable of bringing Lady [y/n] back to reality. Her courage was totally fading as time passed. She looked around, noticing Anthony and Benedict were already up and about to be gone. [y/n] didn’t even notice when they excused themselves.
“Hm, I’m sorry, girls, Lady Bridgerton, but I do need to ask Lord Bridgerton something if you…”
Mama Bridgerton interrupted with a smile and a wave of a hand.
“No worries, go. I noticed you’re pensive,” she said. Lady [y/n] smiled, and with a bow, she walked away, jogging a little to catch up to Anthony.
The three left ladies exchanged glances, but Eloise was soon back talking about her last ball and the troublesome gentleman she had met. Pen and Violet kept a knowing look on their faces, as if they had tasted something in the air before anybody else.
“Benedict, huh, sorry, LordBenedict,” [y/n] said, rambling and gasping for air, “where can I find your older brother?”
Benedict grimaced but thought it was better to simply answer than to make conversation by correcting her and allowing her to call him just by his given name.
“He’s in his office, [y/n],” he said. “Want me to escort you?”
“No need,” she replied. “I am quite certain I know this house as well as my own.”
They both tilted their heads forward, a silent goodbye, and [y/n] kept walking towards Lord Bridgerton’s office. She knew he wasn’t living at that residence anymore, allowing his younger siblings and mom privacy — or better said, allowing himself some peace and quiet.
She knocked twice on the door, afraid her emotions were talking the best of her.
“Come on in,” said a deep voice from inside.
Lady [y/n] gasped for air, a deep breath and walked in.
“[y/n], hello,” said Anthony, looking up from his papers. “What can I help you with? Is my brother gone, and you require a chaperone to walk you back home?” he asked, getting up promptly.
They were friends, but as much as a female and a male could be friends in British society, therefore it was very rare when [y/n] needed to talk to Anthony in such private places and situations.
“Oh, no, milord, nothing of that source,” she replied, grasping her dress. “I simply, huh…”
Anthony waited as she tried finding the right words.
“I wanted to ask you for a favour.”
He only kept staring.
“Yes, a favour,” she repeated, mostly to herself, as if approving of the word. “I suppose by now you are the only one that can help me. My marriage is just around the corner.”
“Tomorrow, I know,” he said, because he did, indeed, know. It was marked on his notebook, it was all his mother could talk about. And even Colin, one of his younger brothers, had written about it in his last letter. Anthony had no idea why his family wanted so desperately to remind him that his best friend was getting married tomorrow — he had already bought two excellent presents in the name of the family.
“Do you need me for something concerning your matrimony?” he asked, noticing [y/n] had grown silent.
“Precisely,” she nodded.
“Is it borrowing a carriage? We do have fine ones,” he said. “Or do you need me to walk you down the aisle? Isn’t your father supposed to?” Anthony really didn’t want her to ask for him to walk her down the aisle. He wouldn’t be able to. He’d very much rather borrow the carriage.
It wasn’t like it would hurt him to do so if asked. He liked [y/n] extremely, which could be exactly the issue. They had grown up together, he thought that was the problem. He wouldn’t want his sisters to be married to someone he didn’t know, so why would he like it when it was happening to his very best friend?
Except when he thought about marrying his sisters, he wanted to vomit and die. Now, when he thought about marrying [y/n], his heart would hurt so badly as if it wanted to jump out of his chest and go right in her hand — because it was where it belonged.
But he always knew [y/n] wouldn’t marry him, so why, whydid it hurt?
“No, I don’t need you for any of those things, I’m afraid,” she said, bringing him back to the factual thing happening. She stared at his beautiful and oblivious eyes. She had to speak up. “Last night, my mama told me some things I should expect in my marriage…”
Anthony swallowed hard.
“… especially on my wedding night. I didn’t know — I don’t know — what to do about it, Anthony,” [y/n] stepped closer to him.
The viscount was finding it very difficult to breathe.
“I suppose a lady such as myself and a lord such as you should not be discussing what I’m about to say, but I… I have no one else, and I will not allow myself to walk in my nuptial night knowing nothing of what is about to happen.”
“Lady [y/n], are you… what are you asking of me?” Anthony managed to ask, gulping. He wasn’t always formal, and he didn’t call her lady when they were alone, but he just needed to put up some walls between them. Even if they were invisible because [y/n] just kept coming closer.
“I don’t want Lorde Jean Blanc to be the first man I lay in bed with. I want it to be you,” she said, all in one breath.
She grasped her dress again, and lowered her eyes to his hands, so she could not visualize what she predicted would be a disappointment on Anthony’s face. How could she? No lady would ask a gentleman to bed her. Oh, god, not ask. She had begged.
“I want it to be someone I know, and like, and trust. Because I can’t bear the idea of allowing my body for use of a French man I barely know and having to just sit still because I have no idea of what he is going to do!”
Anthony Bridgerton desperately wished he had been sitting before listening to Lady [y/n]’s declaration. Not of love. Of necessity. She needed him.
He supposed she didn’t understand what she was asking, but he did it for her. No lady walks in and promptly asks a man to bed her, not unless she sees it can be her last opportunity to do so. And even then, she must desperately desire the required man, otherwise, she wouldn’t do it.
Anthony knew quite a bit about women and their first times. He generally wasn’t up for it — the tenderness and the passion, the waiting — it all scared him very much, but there was nothing [y/n] could ask him with her hearty eyes that he wouldn’t say yes.
But how could he say yes now? How could he make love with the woman of his heart and then walk away to see her marrying someone else?
Anthony reached for her chin and leaned it up, so he could stare her dead in the eyes. She tried ducking once again, but he didn’t allow it.
“[y/n], have you ever even kissed a man before?”
She denied it with her head. “I haven’t met Lord Blanc in person yet, and I’ve always thought that being him the one I’m going to marry, it would be unfair to any other man.”
Anthony nodded.
He then held her chin tightly, firmly, and with his other hand, he grasped her waist, bringing her closer. It was simply natural to do what he did next.
His lips encountered hers, gently, almost like a singular touch of a gloved hand, just allowing Lady [y/n] the space she needed in case she wanted to press her hands to his chest and push him away. She ended up putting her hands there, but not to move him away — she just wanted to be firm, press herself against Anthony and notforce him away. He was much taller than she was, which gave her a certain instability in such feminine heels.
[y/n] never expected a first kiss to be so welcoming.
Anthony took advantage of the girl’s leaning towards him and took her by the neck, bringing her closer and closer and making her belong to him with a soft opening of his mouth and an exploration with his tongue. He entered her calmly, allowing her to savour the new sensation, and then he devoured her, tongue and lips, and tightened his grip on her arms, clutching her waist. He was marking her as his, for he knew, or at least assumed, that she would walk away altogether after that.
Neither of them had noticed time passing, minutes felt like seconds, and without [y/n] observation, she was leaned against the bookshelf Viscountess Bridgerton kept full of new books.
That was enough to light her up.
“Huh, Anthony…” she whispered, not noticing her voice would be different after minutes of kissing. “Should we be doing it here? In your mother’s home?”
Her words confused Anthony, and he was not up to letting go of kissing her neck. “Doing what?”
“Deflowering me,” she said, nonchalantly.
Anthony immediately stopped. His hands were still on her skirt, keeping one of her knees up and open for his touches, while his head, bent into the crook of her neck, found a way to face her. The word choice scared the hell out of him.
“I’m sorry, did I do something wrong? Should I not have asked?” she did not keep her questions to herself. “Were you in complete control while kissing me?”
He gulped.
“That was more than just kissing.” And he had, in fact, lost control back there, but he was not about to admit it.
“What would you have called it?”
“We canoodled with each other,” he said. “And I recall some social parcels of London calling it ‘make out’ but it seems unfit.”
“Why?” she asked, lowering her knee and adjusting her skirt.
“Because I didn’t makeyou. I destroyedyou.”
She was positive he was right. What she didn’t know was that she had destroyed him too.
He ran his fingers through his hair, waiting for her to disappear, regretful and resentful towards him, but she did none of the sorts.
“Do you have a mirror here?”
“What?”
“A mirror. A looking glass. Do you have it?”
Anthony held in the urge to smile. “No, I suppose not here.”
She pressed her lips together as if thinking what she could do. To save herself? Anthony thought, but did not ask. He so desperately wanted to ravish her right there and then. Maybe even deflowerher, as she put it, but then he would need a safer space than his office in his mother’s residence.
“Well, then you’ll have to be my looking glass. Step closer,” she demanded while combing her hair with her fingers, trying to pin the left out parts.
“How’s that going to work?”
“Tell me what’s wrong.”
Anthony gulped, getting suddenly nervous.
“With my appearance,” she added, noticing his jitteriness.
“You have, hm… you have something on the corner of your mouth,” he said, nervously.
“Where?” she tried to clean it, presuming it was her makeup blurred, but Anthony’s expression appeared to be that she wasn’t cleaning it at all.
He decided to clean it himself upon her request.
Terrible idea.
“Hm, [y/n],” he uttered.
“Yes, Anthony.”
“Why me? Why ask me to…?” he wasn’t able to say the words. “Are you sure of this?” he asked lastly, thinking that maybe he wouldn’t want to hear her saying she didn’t prefer him much more than he was her only option. Or it could’ve been Benedict, but Anthony was very glad she picked him.
She seemed to think before answering. “I picked you because it was only natural. And I am certain of this because I cannot face my husband unaware of what he’ll do to me.”
Anthony shook his head, still helping her adjust her visual aspect.
“Besides, I heard the French dislike oblivious and non-sexual girls.”
That was enough for Anthony.
“Then why, honestly, why are you marrying him?” Marry me! he wanted to add.
She shrugged. “Because he’s there. He wants me. Father sends him paintings of me all the time, and he still wants to marry me after seeing how I am. I know paintings are not the same, but well, people here in London are seeing me for who I am, and they are still not picking me.”
“Perhaps because they know you are engaged?” suggested Anthony, because that was his very reason.
“That’s not it. If they wanted to be with me, they would’ve come forward. An arranged betrothal with a French lord wouldn’t have stopped someone who truly desired me.”
“And would you have said yes?”
She did not answer that. She did not know.
If any other lord had come forward and asked her to be his wife, would she have gone against her father’s wishes and done it? Would she have done it if Colin for example asked for her hand in marriage?
No.
Regardless, if Anthony had proposed…
Anthony disliked the silence that echoed after his question, so he decided upon a lighter tone when he spoke again. “I will teach you if that’s what you truly desire. I’ll bed you, and I’ll be patient, and I’ll show you what a man like, but also teach you what you can like.”
She looked at his eyes, expectantly.
“But only if you ask me, only if you assure me that it is what you want,” he said. “Please only ask for it, however, if you truly want it and won’t regret it.”
“I won’t regret it.”
Anthony and [y/n] exchanged a look. They knew they were doomed, even though they didn’t want to admit it.
“Tonight then. When everyone’s at the ball, say you don’t wish to go because your wedding is coming, and you want to rest. I’ll send a carriage for you as soon as your mother and father have left your house.”
[y/n] gulped, suddenly anxious for more of those kisses, for more canoodling, as he had put it.
“I’ll be waiting,” she said. “Thank you, Anthony.”
He closed his eyes tightly, mashing them as if he wished he hadn’t heard her.
“Don’t thank me.”
Anthony Bridgerton was waiting for the most surprising guest of his life.
It wasn’t every day he would receive a lady friend in his small but only his house, but this one was a very special lady.
Actually, that night, she was no lady at all.
Lady [y/n] had picked the most sensual of her dresses, the one she only had worn once before. That was because when she did, Anthony almost passed out seeing her in a crowded ball and wearing that red tight thing that put all her natural beauties in place and upfront for any man to stare at. In fact, he had made sure she would only dance with him and her father that night because he decided no one else was allowed that privilege.
She decided it was only fit to wear it once again, for this time it was her ultimate goal to provoke Anthony.
Hah! She had always pondered over it, but never allowed herself to think too much because Anthony was not the man in her future. He still wasn’t, but it felt natural to close her eyes towards her future just for one night and enjoy having Anthony, being Anthony’s.
He was waiting for her in his empty house (he had dismissed the servants), holding a glass of wine in each hand. When she arrived, he offered her one, knowing it would help her nervousness. It was supposed to be helping him too, but as a man used to alcohol, he would need something much stronger.
“How are we going to do this?” she asked, feeling unquiet. The dress was affecting Anthony, she noticed it, but that simply wasn’t enough for her enquiring mind, who wanted to know every step of the way.
“Slowly,” he answered, drinking more wine. “Think of me as your husband after the wedding. How would you let the scene play?”
Oh, he liked to see her imagining him as her husband. After all, it was part of his little plan. He wanted to bed her, to love her for the whole night as long as she could, so she would be addicted and too scared to risk loving another man that can never be the same as Anthony.
“Well, not slowly,” she said. “I’m not a very patient girl.”
Anthony let his brows go up.
“So show me. I’m here to learn, too.”
Drinking in a quick sip of all the left wine in her glass, [y/n] got up and walked towards Anthony, only to sit down over his lap. That was the boost of courage Anthony needed, the confirmation that she was there as much as he was.
“Kiss me.”
And he obeyed.
They didn’t start out calmly, as the first kiss had been. [y/n] didn’t allow Anthony to be slow or tender. She didn’t want affection. She would soon be a wife, she hoped the affection would come with time, from her true husband. At that moment, she was a lover, a concubine, slipping away in the dead of night to find her great, seductive love.
And how big and seductive it was!
She could feel all his power through her dress and his clothing because the position made it all so easy. It was almost like the perfect fit. Anthony bit his lip, knowing he could very well hurt her if he did the wrong thing.
As they kissed, Anthony allowed her hands to explore him, get to know him, and she was grateful for the opportunity. He seized the instant and concentrated on undoing the beautiful hairstyle she wore, pulling out the bobby pins carefully so as not to hurt her and positioning them beside their abandoned wine glasses. Anthony enjoyed being able to see her hair completely down and was delighted to see that it was still the same beauty as when they were children.
Anthony wished he had the gift of painting that his brother Benedict had, so he could paint her in the dim candlelight of his living room, with her hair down and her dress falling apart on his lap. The skirt lifted, allowing for more friction, and her full breasts were desperate to pop out. God, he would burn that dress that night, for he would never consent her to wear it in the presence of the damn French lord.
Why didn’t she claim to be his, and they put an end to this farce? It was evident from the way she writhed in pleasure as he played with the skin of her leg that she was his. She was Anthony’s and would never be anyone else’s. Both came from good-class families, and Anthony was a viscount! A much better position than the Baron, and he was in London, where [y/n] would remain with her family. So why didn’t she confess everything?
He would make her concede.
Grabbing her hips, he rose with her clutched to his chest, and carried her upstairs to his room. He would need a bed to convince her.
He sprawled her out on his bed, happy with the image he saw. If he allowed himself to daydream, she could be there because she was his wife, ring and all.
“Anthony, tell me what to do.”
The words were intoxicating.
“Let your breasts come out. Let me see them. Play with them,” please, he wanted to add, but chose not to say. She was the one who should be begging tonight, not him.
She did as she was asked, carefully lowering the neckline of her dress and showing her breasts. Anthony let his head fall to the side in pleasure as a wave of heat washed over him. He well remembered the day he’d realized that Lady [y/n] had grown breasts. He was pretty sure the day got written down somewhere in his teenage writings. And now, seeing them in their full beauty, with no clothes to separate them, drove him insane.
Leaping over her on the bed, he lay his hand over hers on her right breast and stared at her left for just half a second before biting into her pert nipple.
She felt a surge of pleasure and squirmed, kicking off her shoes with only the rubbing of the edge of the wooden bed. Anthony was golden when he heard the clatter of shoes falling to the floor.
“Are you enjoying it?”
She didn’t answer, just squirmed once more.
“I need you to say it, love.”
“I am enjoying it,” she never admitted how much ‘love’ had affected her, even more than the tender touch of his on her breasts.
“Good, I’m enjoying it too,” he said, moving from one breast to the other. “I love how full they are.”
She moaned something he was unable to understand.
“Use your words, love.”
She bit her bottom lip, meeting his gaze. “I like that my bosoms please you.”
He smirked and pulled her by the arms so that she sat on the bed. She sat up, confused, and he got to his feet. “I want you not to be tense. I’m going to take my clothes off.”
“Want me to take mine off too?” she asked, tilting her head.
“No, I’ll do it,” he said, holding his pants by the waist belt. He hadn’t worn a suit since [y/n]’s arrival, but he still had his vest over his shirt. “I want you to watch me.”
And watched him, she did, completely fascinated by the view.
She was stunned to discover muscle under all the tailored clothing Anthony was always wearing, but that wasn’t all that left her with her mouth hanging open. When his underclothing fell to the floor, Anthony allowed her to see his long, hard cock. [y/n] looked down, imagining and remembering what she had under her skirt.
Her mother had informed her that his and hers would be different, but she never imagined that his would be so…big. That would never fit.
“What is it, love?” he asked, kneeling in front of her, positioning his chin in her lap. His eyes showed concern, and he was right to feel that way, thought [y/n], after all, he should have known he had an anomaly between his legs.
“It’s big,” she whispered.
He smiled with pleasure, holding back a laugh. “Yes, it is.”
“It’sverybig.”
He had to lower his face into her skirt, so she wouldn’t see him laughing. Of course, her reaction was to be expected, being a virgin, but, God, what wouldn’t he give her, so she could repeat that in front of his brothers. Or rather, all of London.
“You can take it,” he said when his laughter vanished. He rose again and asked for her hand. “Get up, let me undress you.”
She did as asked, and he went to see her buttons on the back, one by one. She felt his fingers play with her soft skin, and she felt exposed but in a good way. [y/n] had presumed she would feel ashamed, but she felt alive and hot.
“Are all men like that? Is Lord Blanc going to be as big as yours?”
Anthony snorted, and he stopped being careful and just tore the dress away.
“No, Blanc’s cock is not half as big as mine,” he supposed she couldn’t understand, not yet, how that was a bad thing for Lord Blanc.
Before she could comprehend, her dress was on the floor, all torn apart, thanks to the Viscount little jealous fit. Later she’d worry how could she leave the house with a rubbish gown, but at that very second, she only felt hot and alive and desirable. The dress had worked its magic on Anthony.
She was desperate to cover some part of her, knowing her two hands were not enough to cover it all. At least, the candlelight is not as bright as it could be, she thought, holding her belly.
Anthony noticed the sudden blush, and hurried to grasp her hands and let her body completely open to his view. “Don’t be ashamed,” he whispered, closer to her ear, “you are so very beautiful. The most gorgeous miss I have ever seen.”
[y/n] couldn’t help but blush again.
How long had she waited to hear a man, a proper man of London society, to say that to her? To compliment her naked body even though it was evident she was just another wallflower?
And to have Anthony to do so, oh my! The most handsome of the British men — she was more than sure now, that she could stare at him defenseless, with all his glory.
He held her left hand and squeezed it a little.
“Are you still sure of this?” he hated himself for asking, for if she answered no, he would die right there and then. His member was in so much bloody pain, throbbing non-stop with desire.
She nodded. “Yes, Anthony. I do, very much, want it.”
Now more than ever, she thought.
She could sense he was smiling in the dim light. “Come,” he whispered, taking her to bed once again, this time slowly, as if scared she could break when naked.
She laid, spread, and he, positioned on top, started kissing her, lips and neck, and his hands wandered all over her body. Her breast felt hurtful with his touch, but it was a different kind of pain because it emanated to the centre of her very core, and when Anthony fingers found her entrance, she let out a soft moan.
The Viscount couldn’t help but smirk, and while one hand stayed there, playing around her core, the other went to her face, as he played with her hair.
“Describe how you’re feeling,” he demanded.
“I can’t,” she said between groans, “I don’t know how.”
“Just tell me, love,” he kept demanding, “when I do this,” he said as he let his tip of the finger play with the mouth of her arousal, “what do you feel?”
She bit her lip. “Anticipation.”
“How so?”
“It feels good, but it also feels like there is more.”
Anthony smirk widened. “Do you want more?”
“Yes, milord,” she nodded, feeling a little pleasure when he started using two fingers to wander around. “Sorry, I meant Anthony.”
He stopped his fingers. “Keep the milord. I like it,” he said, coolly.
It was her chance to smile. She reached for his hand at her entrance and pulled it forward, with more of a firm grip.
“I like it when you call me love, as well,” she let out, feeling a sudden wave of blush.
With the help of her hand, Anthony allowed himself to get in more deeply, to really feel her, and when he played with her clit, he felt like he could die in peace.
“You are so wet for me, my love,” he whispered, desperately to taste her. He knew it could be weird for a first time, though, so he only kept playing with her clitoris, wondering about her taste as she moaned loudly.
Thank God they were alone.
“I feel… I feel like…”
“Like bursting?” Anthony suggested, looking forward to facing her as he knew she was about to come.
He teased and slither, and she just kept trembling and moaning, until a sudden wave of absolute pleasure took over her, and [y/n] like she was at Paradise, the rise of relaxation stronger than she ever felt.
“Anthony, that was…”
“I know,” he said, before pulling his fingers and finally allowing himself some taste of her, even though it was not how he planned. He wanted to really taste her, core and everything, but the wetness on his finger would have to be enough.
He let her breath hard for a whole minute, while he just kept teasing and kissing her belly, shoulders and sucking her finger — he found it a very nice thing to do.
“Is it now you are going to… penetrate me?”
My God, gasped Anthony Bridgerton, shocked Lady [y/n] had said those words. “I guess you did learn to use your words,” he whispered, playfully.
She blushed. “Well, the finger thing felt very, very good, but I’m quite sure it isn’t the thing that gets me pregnant.”
Anthony rose from her belly to kiss her lips. “You do know quite a lot, huh.”
“I did my reser…” but [y/n] never finished her sentence, for she remembered the consequences of making love. “Am I going to be pregnant with your baby?”
Oh, Anthony liked that idea. He kissed her again, again.
“Probably not,” he replied after a while.
“That is not very sure.”
“Nothing ever is,” he said, smirking.
She nudged his arm. “Anthony!”
“You came to me, love, what do you want me to do?”
“Not get me pregnant,” she replied.
“I can’t make promises,” he said, letting his smirk fade away, “but I’ll try my best.”
She breathed out, relieved.
“But, anyway, you are getting married tomorrow so… no one would figure it out,” he added, only to mess with her.
“I don’t know how Lord Blanc is. What if he’s your opposite? How am I expected to explain?”
“By marrying me,” he answered before he could hold his tongue. Lady [y/n] froze at his touch. “Don’t worry,” he quickly added, “you are not going to be pregnant on your first try.”
Noticing her brows were down again, Anthony took the opportunity to kiss her body once again, and she came alive at full speed. He touched her core.
“You are ready,” he said, and with the help of his elbows, he got a little up on her, only to adjust himself over her entrance.
She bit her lip, expecting, waiting. She needed that. Not only that, but she was desperate to know how it would feel to have all of him inside her. And he wasn’t strong enough to wait any longer.
Holding his tip with one hand and massaging her entrance with another, he said: “This might hurt a bit. But I’ll give you time to get used to it.”
Anthony allowed his member to slither in her core, and waited so she could feel more comfortable.
She held her breath when she felt the tip of him enter, but managed to settle down when she breathed again. Anthony let some more of him into her, and she sighed.
“Does it hurt?”
“I just need… I want a moment,” she said.
“Wait,” then he thrust deeper into her, startling her. She widened her eyes and grabbed him in his forearms, feeling a slight discomfort, like the pressure of something breaking. “You better get used to it now that I’m all inside you.”
And inside her, he was, because she could feel him through her pussy, something hard, nudging her. He held on tight, waiting for her to adjust. Meanwhile, Anthony avoided looking her in the eye, as it would be too much for him, and he imagined if he could get her pregnant.
He had never dreamed of having as many children as his parents had, but there, with his cock at the centre of her, he decided it wouldn’t be all bad to have eight children. Perhaps ten.
“Can you move?” she asked, in a whisper.
It caught Anthony by surprise. “I’m sorry?”
“Can you move… it? I feel like it would be better if you moved,” she said, blushing for having to explain her wishes.
“Of course I can move, love,” he smiled, and started the movement.
He delicately and caressing moved his member inside her, but she quickly grasped his back, bringing him closer and whispered “faster”. That was his favourite word in the whole world, for all he wanted to do was to thrust and throb with velocity as his member required.
Feasting, his hip movements allowed Lady [y/n] some absolute pleasure, way better than the fingers and the waiting. She moved with him, trying to bring him closer every time he pulled away.
[y/n] was euphoric and Anthony was flaming, both so caught up in the moment they didn’t even notice when they got very close to coming. He kept charging and she grasped him tighter.
“I’m feeling it again,” she whispered between a moan.
Taking advantage of her state, Anthony kept thrusting, but he added his finger at the tip of her clit, just to make things easier for her. “Then come, my love” he demanded, for he was not able to hold himself much longer.
“Oh, my…” she whispered before moaning, feeling the last string that fixed her on reality getting cut.
Anthony exploded not much after, remembering to pull out. He did not want to, he so very deeply wanted to plant his seed on her, to mark her as his by a definitive mean, but he couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her. If she wanted to be with him, she should do it because it’s her heart’s desire, not because of her uterus.
He laid right next to her, and she didn’t hesitate before coming closer and nestling on his bare chest. They were both out of breath and wet; Anthony could feel a drop of sweat running down his forehead, and [y/n] could feel the molasses on her legs and belly. But they weren’t disgusted — quite the opposite. Anthony felt that if he held her any longer, he would regain the energy to do it all over again soon.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, applying pressure to the lady’s forearm.
“Different,” she said, surprising him with her choice of word. “I think I must have even changed my appearance. How am I?” she asked, turning to face him.
“Beautiful,” he said. “Magnificent,” he continued. “You are marvelous.”
She felt herself blush and buried her face in the Viscount’s chest.
“You can’t tell me these things,” she sighed. “You’re going to spoil me.”
“So be it,” he replied, kissing her on the top of her head.
“Oh, Anthony,” she breathed, more regretfully this time, permitting herself to look at him. His eyes gleamed in the night, and she imagined hers did the same. “This was a mistake.”
Anthony froze beneath her. He was hearing the words he never wanted to hear, but she kept saying it, and he heard it all, for he wanted the explanation to be more than just denying his feelings.
“I believe… I don’t want to marry any French lord,” she proceeded. “I want… No, I can’t. But I don’t want Jean, that’s for sure, and now… I’m doomed. What a bad idea of mine to sleep with my best friend!”
Anthony felt the smile appearing on his face before he actually felt the pure happiness that came with her sentence. Did she realize she was making all his wishes come true?
“Then don’t marry him,” he whispered, kissing her cheek then her temple.
She stared at him, widening her eyes.
“Marry me, [y/n],” he whispered, closer to her ear. “Don’t leave me. Don’t leave this room.”
She couldn’t help the tears coming down.
“I love you, Anthony,” she whispered back. Those were his favourite words, he gasped, correcting his early thought. “But my father…”
“He can’t do anything if we get to marry before he finds out.”
“Anthony! You are a Viscount! You need to get married properly!”
Anthony sat on the bed, bringing her up with him, and squeezed her.
“[y/n], I love you with my very heart and soul. If you say you love me too and wish to have me forever, there is no one, God or mortal, that is going to stop me from making you mine,” he said, nonchalantly, so confident in himself. “I have always desired you, but never as strongly as now, and if you tell me it’s Jean Blanc you wish to marry, I’ll step away. You’ll never see me again.”
“I don’t…”
“But if you say it’s me you want,” he kept going, ignoring her attempt of interruption, “then I am yours, [y/n]. And you are mine, and I’ll make you a Bridgerton by law, as I’m pretty sure you already are one by heart.”
She smiled, genuinely smiled, feeling she was the most beautiful of the human beings and the most enviable, for sure.
“I want you, Anthony Bridgerton, and I want you to make me Mrs. Anthony Bridgerton, for I’m sure to be the happiest of the ladies next to you,” she said, making him kiss her desperately.
They laid in bed again, caught up in kisses and canoodles.
“Now, what do we do?”
“Leave that to me,” said Anthony, before kissing her again.
Anthony’s plan worked.
Well, of course, it did. He had an infallible tactic, and the whole of London was cheering for him and [y/n] to eventually get married.
The morning after they had sex for the very first time — and second and third, for Anthony Bridgerton was exquisite to know he was going to marry his best friend — he went straight to his mother’s house. He left [y/n] at his.
“Mother, I might have impregnated Lady [y/n] [y/l/n].”
That was a very powerful and enough sentence on its own. Lady Bridgerton almost fainted, but recomposed herself, sparkling with joy, for she had planned to see those two together their entire lives.
She excused herself and went to [y/n]’s family home. It was Violet who arranged everything, in a lighter tone than Anthony ever could, even though he was right next to her when she spoke. [y/n]’s mother started jumping and clapping around, filled with happiness. [y/n]’s father was not even a bit happy, but after a long conversation, he realized there was nothing he could do but to give Anthony’s [y/n]’s hand in marriage.
And so, the French lord got excused to go back to his country before he even arrived in London, and the party planned to happen in the afternoon went on. But this time, it was Anthony the man at the altar.
[y/n] was so happy she couldn’t believe it, and she liked to have seen Anthony taking charge of making them official. When it was announced they were husband and wife, [y/n] jumped over Anthony to kiss him as a lady should never in the presence of her family and in a church, but she did not care, for she had just married her best friend and the love of her life.
“I love you, Anthony.”
“I love you too,” he replied as they sat together at the wedding reception.
“What happens now?” she asked, curious and anxious as she has ever been.
“I shall take care of you, as I always have, but this time I can burn all of your dresses that I don’t approve of, and I shall buy you new ones that will cover you whole, for I’m the only one that can see your wonders now,” he said, making her laugh.
“And I shall keep all of those uneducated ladies away from my Lord, forever,” she said, and he kissed her cheek, unable to hold in his touches.
“You hold that in for very long, huh?”
“Very long indeed,” she said, smirking, for she was not thinking about herself but about him.
“Do you remember what you asked me yesterday afternoon?”
It sure felt like an eternity ago, but she remembered.
Colin having other men question whether he’s courting Penelope might be the first time anyone has brought that possibility to mind for him. Now that the idea of Penelope as a wife is in the back of his head, I want a scene in season 3 where Philipa has a newborn daughter & Colin sees Penelope holding the tiny redheaded baby and smiles at how happy & beautiful she looks with a baby in her arms. It could be the first time he truly considers Penelope as a woman ready to become a wife & mother.
Better yet let the scene mirror the scene from season 1 when Colin & Penelope saw Lady Trowbridge and her redheaded baby (who looked like her footman). Let’s see Colin & Penelope notice the baby crying and instinctively team up to soothe the child and it’s basically a glimpse of how they would be with a child of their own.
It would not surprise me at all if Nicola’s mirror comment wasn’t what we assume (a reference to Colin’s mirror comment in the book) at all, but rather that the storylines for Colin & Penelope from season 1 will be a mirror to their story in season 3.
Penelope wasn’t brave enough to just ask Colin about his feelings for her so as much as it hurt her to overhear, she finally knows from Colin himself that he’s never thought of her as a potential bride. And Penelope is smart, she knows that if she’s ever going to escape her mother and a future as a spinster, she needs to take the marriage mart seriously because this is her 3rd season with zero prospects. She spent her first season focusing on Whistledown, and getting between Colin & Marina, and her second worrying about Whistledown, Colin, and getting between Eloise & Theo.
If Penelope were thinking about marriage to someone she knew she didn’t love but with whom she could have a safe and content life, she would consider it because if she can’t ever be with the love of her life, the next best thing is to have the security and comfort of marriage to a decent person with a chance to have children if she wants.
But if Colin knew the man didn’t love Penelope, I could see him trying to warn Penelope only for her to brush his concerns off like he did when she warned him about Marina not loving him in season 1.
Penelope could explain to Colin in minimal detail that she fell in love a long time ago with someone who doesn’t want her so she’s choosing security because she cannot have love.
I think before Colin can have his love epiphany, he needs to realize how high his opinion of Penelope really is and just how much he relies on being able to confide in her. I’m not sure he has considered that if Penelope were married he could not take her hand and have private moments with her without looking improper.
I bet he even calls the man she loves a fool for not realizing how wonderful she is only for her to defend him just like she did season 1 by saying that the man she loves is no fool, he merely doesn’t see her the way she wishes he did.
I think Colin will be shocked to learn Penelope has secretly been in love and he’s probably very curious who the man is. I imagine that making him really consider what kind of man wouldn’t want to marry Penelope because she’s so warm, kind, clever & beautiful. That’ll be where he begins wanting her for himself. And if he mentioned any of this to his family, you know one of them is going to call him out & say he’s in love with Penelope the same way Marina called out Penelope and accused her of being in love with Colin.
Colin also loves a damsel in distress. He wants to be a hero in a love story. He’s a dreamer. If Penelope admitted that she is Whistledown and she’s giving up writing because it started out being fun but now it’s dangerous to people she cares about and she was sorry for the trouble she caused everyone, I think he would forgive her. We already know Colin doesn’t think like Eloise, he may prove very understanding and forgiving toward Penelope.
I even sorta wish he bulks up boxing with Will to better protect Penelope from anyone who might find out her secret and try to hurt her in revenge for something she’s written.
There’s so much potential for season 3 to mirror season 1.
For the record though, I want the book-mirror scenario too.
So far Mrs. Varley has done two forgeries for Portia Featherington that we’re aware of.
What if in season 3 she forges something and steals the money Portia stole from Lord Featherington?
It’s not as if Portia would be able to have her arrested without admitting that she kept the ton’s money and Lord Featherington was actually her scapegoat. Varley knows too much about Portia’s personal business and schemes, she could threaten to reveal that the document granting Portia’s first grandson the Featherington title, is forged.
If that happened and the Featherington’s were once again penniless, it would allow for Penelope to save her family with her Whistledown money (which she does in the books).
If Portia had to replace Mrs. Varley she would be determined to pick a trustworthy new housekeeper, so maybe that’s how the show plans to bring in Sophie’s character.
Can we all just take a moment to think about how fun it’s going to be seeing Anthony “Zero-Chill” Bridgerton find out that Penelope Featherington is Lady Whistledown?
I hope they give him a stunned book-Portia style reaction like, “Penelope? …Penelope?”
Then he’ll be psycho-crazed like, “HOW DID YOU NOT KNOW ELOISE?!?!?”
Then he finds out Colin compromised Penelope, they’re engaged, and he wants the family to support her if the secret gets out because of the obvious scandal & potential people will try to hurt her.
Kate’s gonna have to save the day by rubbing his temples while letting him hold her belly because it’s what calms his panic attacks.
I die a little inside every time Colin misses seeing Penelope looking gorgeous in a flattering pretty dress, but sees her in yet another horrendously bright yellow dress.
It’s a nails-on-a-chalkboard-cringing-agony & I need it to end!!!! And was it absolutely necessary to have like 8 different bows in her hair here?♀️
Please let her never ever wear yellow again after season 3.
Since we can’t know exactly how the show plans to have Polin’s story play out, I was thinking if they do intend to make Colin jealous, how fun would it would be to have, “Single Ladies, (Put A Ring On It)” playing at a ball while Penelope’s denying Colin a dance or ignoring him altogether.
I have a whole Polin inspired playlist I WISH I could share with whoever selects the music for the show… instead I’m sharing it here.
Phil Colin’s “Against All Odds (Take A Look At Me Now) is another great song for Polin while Colin feels disconnected from Penelope and is missing her. There’s a reason this song is a classic.
(This is what I dreamt up for Polin this morning. It’s how I’d like Season 3 to go. I love Polin. Enjoy! )
Portia forcing Jack to leave town basically ruins Prudence’s but Portia is determined to make use of the forged document that she has that says the first born son to one of her daughters will inherit the Featherington title so she sets her sights on marrying off Penelope for the first time.
We see Portia demanding Penelope not wear yellow because Whistledown wrote about how unflattering yellow dresses are and Portia is all about attracting suitors for Penelope now so she starts putting her in more flattering colors and insisting that Penelope starts wearing a corset every day so her figure is always most appealing.
But just like she did with Prudence in the first episode of season 1, Portia will make Penelope’s corset too tight and when Pen gets to the first ball of the season she looks absolutely stunning but is having difficulty breathing.
Penelope is trying to avoid Colin but he finds her and tries to apologize for what he said when he was drunk at her family’s ball but Penelope gets upset and with the corset restricting her breathing she legitimately swoons and he catches her. When Pen regains her composure, she thanks Colin for his help but makes it clear that she has to focus on marriage this season and can no longer allow her friendships to distract her since her first season her focus was on Marina and last season she was distracted with Eloise.
Colin will claim he understands but inwardly he’s disappointed that he doesn’t get to spend time with Penelope at balls anymore and she has stopped visiting Eloise and his family so he doesn’t even get to see her at tea the way he used to.
Portia is growing reckless pushing for Penelope to attract suitors and Colin doesn’t find the men who are being introduced to Penelope to be true gentlemen because he’s aware of their past indiscretions. When he tries to warn Penelope, she is dismissive and tells him he’s just being protective because he still feels bad about embarrassing her and laughing at the idea of courting her but she’s focusing on men who actually see her as a woman and don’t merely pity her. Colin knows his past behavior is why Penelope feels this way and he tells her he misses when they used to be able to talk without her thinking so little of him.
Violet noticed them speaking and later mentions to Colin that he seems lonely and perhaps he should consider marrying because he deserves companionship and love and he snaps at her because the last thing he wants is for her to start pushing eligible young ladies at him when he has no interest in courting anyone. And he didn’t tell a soul but he couldn’t imagine courting anyone when all he can do lately is think of Penelope and how she used to make even the most boring balls better with her clever humor. He recalls how she used to smile at him and the way her eyes used to sparkle when he made her laugh and he wished more than anything he was back at Anthony’s failed wedding with her just having cake and daydreaming about how they both longed for a sense of purpose. That was the day he realized that Marina was right when she said Penelope cared for him. Of course she did, they’d been in each other’s lives forever, she’d been closest with Eloise but Pen had proven to be a true friend to Colin and he thanked her by mocking the idea that she was desirable as a wife.
In truth, when Colin actually thought about Penelope being a wife and mother he imagined himself embracing her as she smiled looking up at him, holding their child lovingly in her arms and the thought made his eyes well with tears because she would never look at him that way again and it was all his fault. At the next ball they attend, Penelope is dressed in a stunning gown and Colin cannot seem to take his eyes off of her. He notices she looks pale and approaches to ask her to get some air with him. She’s grateful because she’s lightheaded and they go to the garden where Colin begins to try and make small talk because he finally has Penelope to himself but he doesn’t know what to say and she is not looking well.
Penelope tells Colin she is just a little woozy because her mama would not let her eat so she would look nice in her dress but the corset is so tight she can’t breathe and again Penelope started to faint & Colin panics, rips her bodice to loosen the corset and get her some air and Portia finds them. Penelope takes one look at Colin and her ripped bodice and knows her mother will force his hand but before she can explain or protest, Colin insists they will marry immediately to save Penelope’s reputation.
The next day Colin calls on Penelope and brings her flowers and gifts like a doting suitor but Penelope is visibly distraught and promises him she will never force his hand because she wants better for him. He insists that he’s pleased with the idea that he’s going to marry her because she’s his best friend and he’s missed her. Penelope can’t bear the idea of trapping Colin but he’s not listening to her and insists that they should marry.
In a gut wrenching moment of honesty Penelope admits everything to Colin. That she’s always loved him. That Marina knew it. That she was the reason Marina’s secret was revealed because she was Lady Whistedown. That she acted out of desperation when she revealed Marina was pregnant because she knew they were running off to Scotland because Marina seduced him to ensure he wouldn’t question why she wanted to wed quickly and that she was sick over nearly ruining Eloise but with Anthony’s canceled wedding and the Queen’s threats she was terrified of what would happen if Eloise lied about being Whistledown as she intended to. That she knows her actions were unforgivable and she deserved to be alone without friends or love. But she took comfort knowing that someday Colin would find someone worthy of him and it would only be possible because she wasn’t selfish and set him free.
Colin is speechless at Penelope’s revelation and turns to leave in stunned silence but at the last second he turns back to Penelope, admits that Marina never seduced him, they never even kissed. Then he plants a desperately sad kiss on her lips, says he has a lot to think about but he won’t be the reason for her ruin because he’s a gentleman, so they will still marry. He leaves.
Colin confides everything to Anthony, Kate, his mother and Eloise confirms that the Queen had threatened them all the day after Anthony & Edwina’s failed wedding. The family is shocked that Eloise might have acted to rashly because if she had lied to the Queen, the family might have been stripped of their lands and title and ruined if not worse. Despite the stresses Whistledown caused over the years, they cannot deny that if not for Penelope, Daphne would have been forced to wed Berbrooke, Colin would have eloped with Marina and Eloise might have caused the downfalls their entire family.
Meanwhile Penelope decides she will take her money and leave town, ending their engagement with a letter since Colin is not being reasonable by refusing to let her call things off. Colin tells Eloise that Penelope is going to run away & he asks his family members to stick to Penelope like glue because he knows she has plenty of money and is planning to leave town for good.
Eloise has felt Penelope’s absence from her life deeply. She admits it to Kate one afternoon and asks her new sister in law how she made things right with Edwina when there was so much hurt from the secrets and broken trust between them. Kate tells Eloise to be honest with Penelope but at the end of the day, Edwina is Kate’s sister so there is a difference.
Eloise approaches Penelope for the first time all season and they have a heart to heart, each taking credit for their part in their fight. Penelope tells Eloise how much she misses her because Eloise has been like the sister she always wished for in her heart since she isn’t close to her own sisters. Eloise agrees that they have been like sisters and she’s happy that soon they really will be sisters. Penelope doesn’t have the heart to tell Eloise she intends to call off her engagement to Colin but knows she shouldn’t keep more secrets from Eloise.
But first, Penelope asks Eloise for help getting audience with the Queen. Penelope confesses everything to the Queen who is equally shocked and impressed by what the ton’s wallflower was able to accomplish as such a young woman. She agrees to keep the secret and even offers Penelope protection if the secret gets out that she was Whistledown but Penelope has to give up the gossip column and provide her gossip exclusively to the Queen. Penelope is both shocked and grateful. The Queen then announces that the scheming Lord Featherington who stole from many members of the ton is to be stripped of his title so it could be bestowed to a man worthy of it.
Since Penelope advised the Queen that it was Colin Bridgerton who discovered the scammer and ran him out of town, the title of Baron Featherington would be granted to him upon his marriage to Penelope Featherington and they will carry on her family name with the honor it deserves.
After the announcement Penelope is looking for Colin to tell him she will speak with the Queen when there’s a commotion and all eyes turn to Colin who makes a spectacle of himself proclaiming he’d been a fool for not realizing sooner that his dearest friend Penelope had become the most clever, remarkable and beautiful woman of his acquaintance, but it would be unforgivably foolish of him if he allowed anyone to leave that evening without understanding the truth.
Penelope is frozen because she doesn’t know what Colin is about to say but it’s possible he’s about to out her as Whistledown.
Instead he speaks of how he has read of many great love stories but it was the real love he witnessed between his parents and his siblings with their spouses that made him long for his own true love. He mentioned how easily he was distracted from what was right in front of him, and how fortunate he was for Lady Whistledown’s interference. Because he cannot think of a fate worse than a future without hope of love.
Penelope’s heart sinks a little because she knows she can’t ever keep him from the future her deserves. But suddenly Colin is standing in front of Penelope with the entire ton watching and he’s telling her she is the best person he’s ever known and the only woman he has ever felt in his bones he could never live without and that he can’t wait to marry her.
Then he apologizes to everyone in attendance who is a fan of Lady Whistledown because he heard she said she’d never write again if a Featherington ever married a Bridgerton but nothing is ever coming between him and Penelope again. Then Colin kisses Penelope in front of the entire ton and jokingly says, “what’re the chances the Queen would put in a good word with the archbishop so we can get a special license? We have a family to start working on.”
Epilogue: Penelope buys a giant 3 way mirror for the dressing room in her and Colin’s new home and Colin becomes obsessed with trying for an heir in front of the mirror. Lady Whistledown stops writing for the public and serves as a private informer to the crown of all types of gossip she uncovers so the Queen knows all the ton’s secrets and on occasion the crown sends Colin & Penelope traveling to out of town events and parties to secure special tidbits of gossip and Colin begins journaling while Penelope starts writing a series of short romantic novels, each inspired by his siblings meeting their spouses and each with happy endings because Penelope says she wouldn’t know how to write anything else.
I don’t care what anyone says I fully believe that we will get to see Polin’s wedding.
I cannot imagine how the creators of a show where the purpose of each season is to tell the love story that leads up to the happy marriage of each of the 8 Bridgerton siblings could possibly justify 2 consecutive seasons where the lead couple’s wedding is not shown. Especially when that couple has been built up since the beginning.
We have to see Penelope & Colin’s wedding this season.
In my mind Penelope never wears yellow dresses again once she takes control of her life and her wardrobe. But because the color yellow always makes Colin think of her, he has a betrothal ring made for her with a citrine center stone.
“That you cared for me. That you would never forsake me. I’m beginning to believe that now.”
The next time Polin speak he’s visiting her house and when she walks him out he says they’re relationship has developed so naturally that it is easy to take it for granted. I don’t know if he realizes how true that statement really is yet because he’s still not quite ready to recognize exactly how deeply his feelings for Penelope run.
Colin’s never had to consider that Penelope is actually very important to him, she’s been constant in his life like part of his family for years. I really think it’s going to take a major reality check for him to understand that Penelope doesn’t owe him her presence in his life. I think Whistledown is going to write how Colin said he’d never court her and he’s going to feel terrible for the embarrassment it causes her and try to apologize.
It’s my hope that when he does, Penelope accepts the apology but insists for the first time ever that he observe proper etiquette with her going forward. He’ll need to stop referring to her by name & call her Miss Featherington, and refrain from taking her hand, touching her or pulling her into a room alone again since it would be improper and maybe she’ll even refuse to dance with him anymore to avoid giving anyone the wrong impression.
Basically I want Colin to be cut off from his friend Pen completely and feel the loss hard because she’ll be right there in front of him yet completely inaccessible & when he stops to think about how much he misses the closeness of what they had before, he’s going to be devastated.
I need Colin to fall so hard and fast for Penelope that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. I’m just gonna say it, I need Colin to cry and be visibly fearful that he’s ruined his chances with the one woman he knows he can’t live without.
I would like to see some lasting consequences for the hit piece Penelope wrote on Eloise. I know that sounds insane, especially since I like Eloise, but hear me out.
The gossip Penelope published on Eloise was presented as terrible. It made Eloise terrified and insecure, it caused Penelope to cry while she was writing it, it upset Violet and even Anthony, it ruined the entire Bridgerton name for a time. It was also the reason for Eloise finding out Penelope was LW and their terrible fight. If it all just blows over in a single social season, was it really that bad? Were all the dramatics justified? And why can’t Eloise just get over it, since the column didn’t actually hurt her and Penelope only did it to protect her?
I’d like to see Eloise’s reputation take a permanent hit in the London Ton. Eloise’s story involves her removing herself from society and living freely, so in the long term she would be fine and it wouldn’t ruin her life. But it would help to show the lasting ramifications of what LW can do to someone, and perhaps make Penelope question her power and if she’s using it responsibly.
Also, it would be quite unfair if Marina was the only person who had their reputation permanently soiled by LW. I would feel better if a couple more people took a hit as well, otherwise it would feel quite targeted against Marina. If multiple people were hurt and ruined by LW it would seem more like a senseless act of immaturity and ignorance rather than vindictive and calculated.
