Empty Dance Cards

[lennie2]

Hands folded together neatly in front of her, dance card dangling from her wrist penelope stood half concealed by the side of a marble pillar in the grand ballroom. She liked lady danbury, more than she liked most members of the ton, the genuine honesty was refreshing, Lady Danbury told people to their face what she thought, while most others whispered behind her back. So, regardless of the discomfort Penelope felt standing in the ballroom there was no illness she would've faked to get out of the event when it was the aforementioned Lady hosting it. There were plenty of times when she would lie to her mother and feign a headache or cough to get out of it but not in this case.

It didn't ease the ache as she watched people interacting with such ease - debutantes with chaperones nearby with demure smiles and soft spoken words offering up dance cards. Her own dance card hung untouched around her wrist, feeling like a burning beacon as she swiftly moved her hand to her side. But clearly it had been a beacon because out of nowhere there she stood surrounded by friends, tall and beautiful with her blonde hair and blue eyes. Cressida Cowper's beauty was dulled by the cruelty in her gaze that looked upon Penelope, her smile feeling more like a taunt than the polite curve of ones lips a lady of the ton learned to perfect.

"Cressida, I hope you're well," Penelope said softly, her voice quiet as she spoke. Now happy she had shifted her hands into a more discreet place, making the dance card less obvious, even if she told herself it was fine it remained empty she didn't want Cressida to know that.

Penelope assumed no one was fooled by the way Cressida smiled, the ton might've been oblivious to any other side of Penelope Featherington than the demure wallflower easily ignored, but no one could miss who Cressida Cowper really was. No one cared who Cressida Cowper really was, she was beautiful, it was all she needed to be. "I was just coming over to check on you, Penelope," the blonde sounded concerned, and Penelope steeled herself, back straightening, fingers curling lightly into the terrible yellow dress her mother forced her to wear, "I haven't seen you on the dance floor this evening, and with so many wonderful gentlemen of the ton in attendance," she hooked her arm with Penelope's in a seemingly friendly manner, "now I'm sure we can find a suitor for you as well, dear Penelope. Nigel Berbrooke perhaps? Now that darling Daphne is no longer available to him surely he is looking for another fine woman to court."

Of course Penelope wanted to dance. Of course she wished that someone would notice her. The more Cressida spoke the more Penelope felt herself tense up, the confidence she had gathered draining from her and she trembled lightly, voice failing her as she tried to respond to her words.

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[Anthony Bridgerton]

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ALWAYS PROTECT YOU

Anthony had parted ways with members of his family in attendance of this event. He attended because he had a role to fulfill. Not because he sough to join others on the dance floor, or mingle amongst the crowds. He often came with purpose, evident to those who knew him well as his eyes scanned the crowd around him. Politely conversing with those who approached and of course offering greetings to those who were familiar.

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It was in fact what he had been doing when his eyes causally surveyed the room, only to land on Penelope Featherington. She was of course a dear friend of Eloise and from the interactions that he'd had with her, a very pleasant young woman. But it was not her presence that alerted him for she was to be expected at this event. No. It was the woman who stood with her that caused him concern. Because, he knew all too well about Cressida Cowper and the demeaning remarks that she could be making at Penelope's expense.

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Had Eloise been present, she would have found a way to deter the woman. But as she was not, Anthony suddenly felt this responsibility to intervene. Growing up and even raising four sisters certainly did that to him; created a protective nature that would aim to keep those he cared about from harm. Whether its harm of words or harm of actions. Among women, it was most often the former.

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So excusing himself from the current conversation, he made his way over to Penelope and Cressida, concealing any expression of concern and merely replacing it with the stoic, composed demeanor that he so often carried. "Good evening," he greeted. "I do hope there is room on your dance card for my name, should you so desire to save one for me." Purposely, avoiding saying exactly who he was referring to. If Cressida sought to embarrass Penelope, well then Anthony could surely return the favor.

[lennie2]

There were times like these when Penelope wished her mama had allowed her to wait another year, to let her debute the following year along with Eloise. It wasn't as if she believed there would've been any gentlemen suddenly noticing her if she had waited, but at the very least she would've had Eloise by her side. It would've made the rejections easier.

The reaction from both women was instant. Cressida withdrew her arm from Penelope, stepping forward with her lips curled into a sweet smiles, eyelashes fluttering as her gaze morphed from taunting to sweet. Stepping in front of the redhead Cressida averted her attentions from the girl to the Viscount.

Penelope smiled softly from behind her at her best friend's brother, "Good evening, Lord Bridgerton."

"Lord Bridgerton, it is as if you read my mind," Cressida mused, Penelope inhaled sharply, resisting the urge to roll her eyes, "there is always a place on my dance card saved for you," this time Penelope could not resist rolling her eyes, immediately looking around the room, finding her mama off to the side and Penelope exhaled in relief noting how Portia Featherington hadn't taken notice to the situation.

She was ready to slip away, to not be so obviously left standing as Anthony Bridgerton escorted Cressida Cowper onto the dance floor and left Penelope standing on the sidelines of the hall. Penelope could already see the attention of other attendees on them and the last thing she needed was further humiliation.

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While Cressida's reaction should come as no surprise, and was indeed expected . . . it was still disappointing. For her to make such a grand assumption about who he was referring to. There was absolutely nothing wrong with Penelope and for one to not even consider the possibility that he may be talking to her . . . well, Anthony knew it was why he did not specify to begin with. A lesson for the Lady Cowper.

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He smiled and nodded at both women upon their return of greeting but spoke after Cressida told him of space on her dance card for him. He looked between both women for a moment before voicing his thoughts. "Forgive me Lady Cowper," he began, giving her a moment to question what he was apologizing for before making it known. "But I was speaking to Lady Featherington," he clarified, looking past Cressida as she had stepped forward to seemingly block Penelope. So he took a step to the side and held out his arm to her.

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"If she would so do me the honor," he added on, of course wanting to leave her with choice. He had to fight the urge to look at Cressida as he was mainly focused on Penelope. He had not failed to recognize her expression when approaching . . . nor the eye roll that he had to fight back a smile of amusement upon seeing. No. Penelope did not deserve this kind of treatment from Cressida or anyone else, and Anthony wished to make clear point of that.

[lennie2]

Penelope frowned, a similar look of surprise flashing through her own and Cressida's eyes, though the emotion which followed was definitely not the same. A dark look of rage in Cressida's eyes as Penelope's lit up with a small smile across her lips. Cressida had already been on her way to raise her dainty wrist, to hold up her dance card and Penelope watched as her wrist promptly snapped down to her side. The blonde turned her head towards the redhead, offering a poisonous glare before she managed to compose herself, and Penelope had a feeling Cressida Cowper was imagining doing far more than glaring at her, then the mask was back, perfectly polite smile as she faced Anthony, "Always such a gentleman, Lord Bridgerton. It's truly wonderful to see such an example of kindness towards a dear friend."

Penelope arched a brow, they were hardly friends, and there was nothing dear about it.

When she really thought about it it wasn't really a surprise, there hadn't been a ball she had been to where Anthony or one of his brothers had not asked her to dance. Of course Penelope had a strong feeling Violet Bridgerton had more to do with it than either of Eloise's brothers actually wanting to dance with her. Though tonight she couldn't remember Lady Bridgerton pushing her son in her direction, and the smile on Penelope's lips grew slightly wider.

"I would be delighted, Lord Bridgerton," she declared, her voice stronger now, not quite confident, but gone was the trembles that Cressida had put there, that her cruelty had imbued in her. Taking his offered arm she let him lead her onto the dance floor. "I don't believe Miss Cowper is very pleased with you right now, my Lord," Penelope said softly, her voice lowered into a whisper.

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No matter how guarded and how trained one was to conceal their emotion to avoid a look of anger . . . seeing that flicker of it, and perhaps embarrassed, flash over Cressida's otherwise perfectly poised features, was forcing Anthony to bite back a smirk of satisfaction. If there was a strong quality of Anthony Bridgerton that one would know, it was his fierce loyalty to his family, and those he cared for. A strong protective urge that would prompt him to do anything to protect them. Physically and emotionally. Cressida compromised that with her unkindness and taunting towards Penelope. And in this moment, she knew better than to express her . . . displeasure perhaps, over the embarrassment of her own actions. Born of a narrow minded individual who did not even consider the possibility that a man would ever ask for Penelope's hand.

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So has hidden as her true emotions were, Anthony returned the concealment when she spoke of Penelope as a dear friend. All three in this group knew that was untrue, yet none would voice it. Still. The underlying mutual understanding was there. "Enjoy your evening," he told her politely. A way of indicating that he had no intention of approaching her, nor asking her to dance. Instead, he focused his attentions back on Penelope, where they initially lay as the young Featherington accepted his offer both verbally and by taking his arm. As they made their way toward the dance floor, Penelope quietly spoke of how she believed Cressida was displeased with him.

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"Really?" He asked with feigned innocence and surprise, though not overly exaggerated. "I can't imagine the reason why," he added on almost playfully. They both knew the reason, but Anthony just did not care for Cressida's good graces. "Is it truly the fault of mine, that she misunderstood to whom I was speaking to?" Another play at innocence absolving himself of any blame, for Anthony knew full well that it had been part of the intention for her to misunderstand. Besides, he wished for this to be about Penelope, not Cressida and her cruelty towards the kind woman.

[lennie2]

His dismissal of Cressida was so simple, polite and effective and Penelope could not help but be jealous of it. It was silly of course, to be jealous someone could so easily dismiss another, silly and perhaps even rude. The idea of openly humiliating Cressida Cowper, not writing a snarky remark about what had just happened in her next Lady Whistledown column, but actually saying something as Penelope Featherington caused a heated blush to rise in her cheeks. All three of them knew that there was nothing Cressida could have done except step aside, except smile and gracefully float through the ballroom to fetch herself a glass of lemonade, dress swishing past several eligible gentleman in a clear attempt to be noticed. But all the while Cressida was on the prowl Penelope found herself on the dance floor.

She felt the tension leave her as Cressida did, no longer feeling tongue tied in the company of someone who came closer to being a friend than the blonde debutante ever would. "I believe she may have had the idea you were asking her to dance, my Lord," Penelope informed him boldly, brow arched as she met his gaze and Penelope studied him. It was subtle, almost too subtle to note, the satisfaction in Anthony's gaze and Penelope gasped, her eyes growing wide and mouth falling open, "that was on purpose, oh that is wicked," Penelope shook her head, laughing as he led her in the dance, "and yes, my Lord, I do believe an argument could be made for it being your fault. However," she paused, "of course an argument could also be made for how impolite jumping to conclusions can be, a healthy lesson to learn to avoid any futur embarrassments, you may have done Miss Cowper a favour."

Her laughter died down, and Penelope allowed a smile to take its place on her lips, "Thank you," she hummed, voice softening as she spoke. While Penelope knew she would have her chance for revenge, would be able to put a scathing comment about the cruel blonde in writing this was different. This rescue was the support from a friendly face she needed to pick herself up after the harsh words, after Cressida attempted to crush the little confidence inside her.

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[Anthony Bridgerton]

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Anthony couldn't help the expression that could perhaps be described as somewhat smug on his face. One that not everyone would even be able to recognize. But Penelope, upon offering clarification for the meaning of her words . . . was able to indeed recognize it. She was after all, no fool. Far from it. His lips curved upwards into a smile as she laughed, glad for the melodic sound that replaced the uncomfortable silence that Cressida's words or sometimes mere presence due to her gazes, often inspired.

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He continued to smile as she provided further justification, calling his plan wicked -- which indeed it was yet Anthony held no regrets for it. And then even offering the counter of it, saying that he may have taught her a life long lesson from it. "Perhaps one day, she will thank me for it," he said jokingly, knowing that may not reflect that deeply into herself. The vain seldom did. "Though it is not simply about her not jumping to conclusions," Anthony continued. "But rather, her not making assumptions about you." It was specific to Penelope.

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While Anthony obviously didn't enjoy any woman being demeaned or ridiculed, he did not intervene on everyone's behalf. He knew better than to over involve himself in the gossips and chatter of women. But Penelope, was of course the exception. There were indeed few, and she was among them. "You are undeserving of her taunts and gazes." Both things Anthony did not fail to notice.

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"So yes. Perhaps she will indeed think twice, before making assumption that any gentleman would not ask for your hand to dance." He gave a small nod when she thanked him, "There is no need for gratitude. It is always a pleasure to be in your company." Whether it was because of Eloise's close friendship, or even his brother's rapport with her . . . however Anthony knew Penelope, he meant his words.

[lennie2]

It wasn't that Penelope needed saving, not from Cressida Cowper, but it didn't make it any less nice to be saved. She knew what she would do once she was home, how she would write about the evening and Cressida's embarrassment would be Whistledown's word in the next column published. What she wrote as Lady Whistledown, while it gave her the private satisfaction of knowing she had a way to get under the skin of the ton, it wasn't public. This was public, this was what Penelope couldn't bring herself to do. She didn't understand it, she spoke eloquently and with a sharp wit whenever she was around friends, but something about anyone else made her shrink back inside herself.

Penelope snorted. "I doubt that," she muttered, her gaze travelling across the room to find Cressida Cowper looking very determined in her attempts to not look at the dance floor. Penelope wished she could see her face when she read the next Whistledown column, it wasn't taking credit for it, but oh how she at the very least wanted to see Cressida's face.

Her attention snapped back to Anthony and Penelope offered him a small smile, "it doesn't matter," she insisted, shaking her head softly, "if I took offense to everything said by Miss Cowper I would spend the rest of my days being offended." Internally Penelope exhaled in relief, how she actually sounded like she believed her own words. Because of course they were a lie, she would spend the rest of the evening contemplating what Cressida had told her, questioning whether or not she was really right. It was the truth Penelope didn't want to face, no one showed any interest in courting her, marrying her, and while Penelope might insist she was happy the way things were it didn't change how she wanted more.

"I believe she is more worried about Lady Whistledown than anything else now thanks to you," Penelope mused, "not that it isn't just as bad for her that everyone here might've seen but, if Whistledown writes about it it'll be in writing and to Cressida it'll be much worse to have everyone read about it rather than just hear about it," this time Penelope couldn't help the small smile that formed, more smug than was appropriate for a young woman, "talk can be dismissed as hearsay and yet Whistledown's word is treated like gospel by these people, she won't be able to deny that as easily and things like that matter to people like Miss Cowper."

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ALWAYS PROTECT YOU

Lady Whistledown. Everyone was so taken by her column. Even the Queen herself. It fueled the city's gossip and exposed what was presumed to be truths. "My actions were not done with the intention that it would be printed in Lady Whistledown's next column," he said honestly.

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"Though I suppose it is always a risk, considering the secrecy of her identity." She could be here, she might not be. Anthony was not consumed with her discovery. Eloise was far more interested in Lady Whistledown out of all the Bridgerton siblings. "And should her identity be revealed, it would seem she has a great deal to answer to . . . and several displeased ladies," Anthony said with a smile. He was not one for such gossips, but it was indeed interesting that Whistledown had gotten away with so much lately. That she had not yet been exposed. But surely, it would not last too long.

[lennie2]

Penelope nodded, she hadn't expected it of him if she was honest. Perhaps Anthony Bridgerton was the last person she would ever expect to do something for the purpose of appearing like the good guy in a gossip column. "Of course you didn't," she agreed, offering a small smile, "women think differently than men do on these things I would think, so I'm sure Miss Cowper is hoping someone will cause a bigger scandal before the next Whistledown edition comes out," Penelope couldn't help but think Cressida deserved what she'd write, it wouldn't make the blonde less cruel, but maybe it would knock her down a peg or two at least for a while.

"Do you think the Queen will be very cross once her identity is discovered?" Penelope asked, not even she imagined she would be able to keep her secret forever, and it was never her intention to insult the Queen, she simply wanted to show the ton how ridiculous they were. It wasn't the Queen that worried her most of course, though maybe it should've considered the power the regent held. But Penelope worried more about her friends, about Eloise and the rest of the Bridgerton family, of her own family. Feeling discomfort crawling down her spine Penelope cleared her throat, "I hope whoever they are they get to come forward on their own terms," she finally settled on, hoping it came off as concern for whoever Whistledown may have been rather than fear.

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The thought of someone causing a bigger scandal to be known to Lady Whistledown was . . . not an unlikely circumstance. The woman seemed to know everyone's business and had no qualms with exposing it. "Which, does not sound unreasonable considering all that occurs in the ton." Scandal after scandal. The only difference this season was that someone was actually documenting it in each article that came out . . . as oppose to it just being word of mouth and spread through rumors of the ton's lips. Upon her next question . . . Anthony gave a bit of a smile and slight shake of his head. "It is difficult to say," he answered honestly.

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"Though it would appear that the queen is displeased with some of her, reports." Whether it be fact, rumor or opinion. The thought of Lady Whistledown revealing herself without another exposing her was an interesting one. "Lady Whistledown seems emboldened due to the anonymity she possess. It grants her further power and permission to say as she pleases. It is interesting to consider her desire to reveal herself under her own terms, knowing all she has to answer to from many displeased families . . . including the queen herself." Truth was, it did not matter to Anthony so long as his family was left out of it.

[lennie2]

Penelope nodded, ensuring she kept her smile from growing smug as he agreed with her, they both knew the circles they ran in and scandal seemed to tempt their peers every other Wednesday. She tried to be fair when she wrote about things that happened, it was never her intention to ruin anyone of her peers. Maybe she did not mince her words quite as much when it came to Cressida and her followers, maybe her own feelings for Cressida poisoned her words ever so slightly. But when it came to people who were kind it was never Penelope's intention to harm or hurt them in any way.

His words about the Queen caused her blood to run a little colder; Penelope had not counted on making an indirect enemy of the Queen. She had never thought the columns she wrote simply to blow off steam would ever grow so popular or ever catch the attention of the Queen. But they had, and somewhere along the lines of her writing the Queen had grown less favourable towards what she chose to put in writing. "Perhaps that is why they would like to do so on their own terms?" Penelope countered, "if Whistledown would need to answer to the ton and the Queen it would seem reasonable they wish to do so on their own terms and when they wish to do so, considering it does bring with the Queen being rather displeased."

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The very idea of Whistledown exposing herself was . . . interesting. Revealing her identity of her own terms to, perhaps have some control over the situation. And hope, that her revealing herself would help ease the repercussions of her columns. "Then she should do it sooner rather than later," Anthony stated. "For the longer she runs this column, the more people grow both curious and displeased." Some of them anyway. The ones that she targeted in her gossip. Surely, someone would wish to find out who Whistledown was and set their efforts to reveal her. He paused for a moment.

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"That is, suggesting she would even consider exposing herself at this point. I suppose it remains to be seen." The dance was starting to come to an end, and Anthony had just realized the extent to which they had been talking about Whistledown. "Of all the women I thought to be speaking to you about, Whistledown was not one of them," he said jokingly, though clearly, was not against any conversation with her. Her ties to members of his family made her company most welcome.

[lennie2]

If anyone knew how and when, or even if, Lady Whistledown would ever want to reveal her identity it would be Penelope, for reasons which were obvious to no one except herself. On certain days she considered whether or not she would like the credit for her accomplishments. Because even though some members of the ton may resent her for what she was writing, there was a part of Penelope who would want people to know it was her. If her mother knew then maybe she'd be forced to acknowledge Penelope was successful in something in her life.

"Did you assume you would be speaking to me about any women?" Penelope questioned in surprise, she offered him a slight smile, a hint of mischievous intent in her eyes. While she had not expected their conversation at all the least expected topic felt like it'd be women. Perhaps even weirder since the woman they were discussing was her, even though Anthony didn't know that... if he did the conversation they were having would have been so much more difficult.

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