Broken Trust: Part 6-The Return

Part 1: The Catalyst

Part 2: The Aftermath

Part 3: Meetings and Partings

Part 4: The Country

Part 5: London

The journey back to English shores took nearly a month.

To fill in the time, and to avoid dwelling on his assortment of potential anxieties, Colin reviewed his journals

When he visited Romney Hall the previous season, Sir Phillip Crane had been delighted to listen to the stories of his travels. In a seemingly off-hand remark, he mentioned the difference between Colin’s tour and that of most of Sir Phillip’s university friends, who had largely spent their time in hotels and bars, rather than enjoying the history and geography they were privileged to visit.

Anthony had no Grand Tour, their father having died months before he was due to depart, and Colin’s eldest brother had been forced to take the reins. Perhaps that was why Anthony had suggested an extended wedding tour to Kate, an opportunity for them to travel as they would rarely have the opportunity to do. Benedict had toured Florence and Venice and Rome, places where the great artists of the Renaissance had flourished.

Perhaps there was some merit in his writing, to allow those who could not travel a glimpse outside their own corners of the world. Penelope had thought so, last year when she was actually talking and writing to him, and Sir Phillip had agreed. He would need to edit out some of the more personal bits in his journals before setting them to print, of course. There were laws on what could be printed for public consumption, after all.

When Colin finally returned to Bridgerton House, in order to plan his journey to Aubrey Hall, he found it occupied. Mama had brought the family - minus the honeymooning couple of Kate and Anthony, Francesca who had decamped to Bath again, and Daphne who was too close to bearing her second child to travel - to London to witness the funeral of Princess Charlotte, and a storm had damaged the roads, delaying their return to Aubrey Hall.

Eloise was in a far better mood, though still more subdued than usual. Perhaps she and Penelope had made up? Hyacinth was in the garden with another young girl, giggling in a way that made Colin immediately concerned for Gregory and possibly the world. “Oh, Colin, this is Felicity Remington, Penelope introduced us.”

Hyacinth had adored Penelope for years, in a kind of youngest sibling solidarity. Colin had not been aware of Penelope having friends other than himself and Eloise, but perhaps that was a recent acquisition. “Oh, Penelope is talking to Bridgertons again? How wonderful! I have missed her, and wanted to apologise.”

Both girls fixed him with an extremely judgemental stare, which Colin could admit he probably deserved. “She will be coming for tea later today. You will be nice to her, or we will make you regret it.”

Such a threat should have been laughable, coming from two girls not yet out of the schoolroom, but Hyacinth had been spreading terror since the moment of her birth, and anyone she befriended was likely to be formidable at the least. “I promise to behave.”

There was the sound of a carriage pulling up, and young Miss Remington bounced to her feet. “Oh, that must be them now!”

Penelope was beautiful, in a gown the colour of bluebells and her hair done in a style reminiscent of a grecian statue. She was also walking beside a gentleman in a bath chair, who Colin had seen but never spoken to. Penelope’s eyes widened at seeing him. Colin rushed to apologise before she had the chance to run away.

He might have preferred no audience, but Penelope’s friendship was more important than his pride. “Penelope… Miss Featherington, I wish to formally apologise for my appalling words at your family’s ball last season. While I intended no malice, I spoke carelessly and without consideration for you, and I heartily regret it. You were and are my dear friend, and even if you do not forgive me, you deserve my apologies.”

Penelope blinked, clearly stunned, but quickly gathered her wits. “Thank you for your apology, Mr Bridgerton. If you promise to be less careless in the future, I believe we may put the past behind us.”

The gentleman beside her cleared his throat, and Penelope blushed. “Oh, yes! Lady Bridgerton, Mr Benedict, Mr Colin, and Miss Eloise Bridgerton, this is Viscount Remington. My Lord, may I present the Bridgerton family, who have been close friends for some years?”

Penelope waved her hand to encompass the room, and something sparkled as it caught the light, but was gone before Colin could fix upon it. The Viscount smiled rather too readily, but perhaps Colin was merely used to his older brother’s frowns. “We wanted to deliver the invitations personally.”

As the person closest to them in distance, even if Eloise and Hyacinth would both fight him over the claim to be emotionally closest, Colin accepted the lace-trimmed card. ‘You are invited to witness the union of Lord Thomas Remington and Miss Penelope Featherington…’

Colin… wasn’t sure what to think.

He’d assumed that Penelope shared Eloise’s outlook on Matrimony… though with the Featherington’s diminished fortunes, perhaps Penelope viewed marriage as a necessity, whether or not she desired it. Colin doubted that anyone would actually wish to spend a lifetime cooped up with Lady Featherington. Regardless, the idea of Penelope marrying had never crossed his mind.

Perhaps that explained Eloise’s subdued state. She had certainly planned for Penelope to be her fellow Spinster, if not a Boston Marriage. The discovery that Penelope required only a few months outside of Eloise’s constant presence to become engaged would have hit hard.

But Penelope was his friend, and he should be happy for her. He didn’t know much about Lord Remington, but Penelope seemed delighted with the match, and she wasn’t so good a liar that he couldn’t tell when she was only feigning happiness.

Her smile now was genuine, so Colin attempted to match it. “Congratulations to you both. I regret, Lord Remington, that I have not such a friendship with you as I do with Penelope, but perhaps that will change.”

He offered his hand, and the young Lord accepted with only a moment of hesitation. “One can never have too many friends, after all.”

Penelope, meanwhile, had crossed to where Eloise sat. “I hoped that you would stand up with me on my wedding day. You have been more my sister than Phillipa or Prudence over the years, but I will understand if you do not wish to.”

Eloise stared in shock for a moment, then flung her arms around Penelope, burying her face in her friends’s shoulder. Pulling away again, she wiped her eyes, “If you want me to, of course I will."

Eloise had written to Lady Crane some weeks ago, seeking advice on making amends for impulsive actions with lasting consequence. Just as she was beginning to wonder if she would received any reply at all, a letter came for her.

“Dear Miss Bridgerton,

While you wrote to my wife, Marina Crane, I hope you will forgive me for returning this letter in her stead. Lady Crane was stricken by a fever when your letter arrived, and succumbed to it only last week.

If you will pardon the impudence of my offering advice where she cannot, I have found that the best path forward is to acknowledge the harm that was done, and endeavour not to repeat it. Asking forgiveness is much easier when one can honestly say that they thought through the available options and their consequences before choosing a course of action.

Lady Crane did not have the influence to bring my brother George home, but she was known to our family, and could have written to us of her condition, instead of attempting to entrap your brother. Likewise, while George had enlisted before he inherited, and could not refuse a summons to war, exceptions have been made for those who suddenly inherit, and he should not have left before doing the honourable thing and offering marriage. I sought to amend my brother’s error, but while Lady Crane may have had the security she craved, I do not delude myself that she was happy in her marriage.

I apologise for unburdening myself to you, and you are under no obligation to reply,

Regardless, I remain yours

Sir Phillip Crane”

There was an asphodel, dried and pressed, that had fallen out as she unfolded the letter.

Originating in Greek Mythology, as the flower Persephone had plucked that summoned Hades from the Underworld, asphodel was favoured in funeral bouquets, meaning “my regrets follow you to the grave”. Or perhaps Sir Phillip was blaming himself.

Thinking of another plant linked to the rulers of the underworld, Eloise went looking for a sprig of dried mint. Mama liked to keep a stockpile to keep the house smelling fresh in the winter months…

Coincidentally, it also symbolised Virtue. If Sir Phillip recognised that… well, Eloise could use a conversation with someone who had working thoughts in their head, even if it was in secret and at a distance.

Read Part 7 here