Chapter Text
“Pen!” Eloise's scream is most unladylike.
Penelope steps down from the creaky carriage, waving excitedly up at her friend. Eloise is the one person in this world who seems to be always truly glad to see her. Her friendship is something she truly treasures.
Eloise bounds down the steps of Clyvedon, her pretty scent wafting around her. Something spicy, warm and completely her, which Penelope's been in love with from the she presented.
All the Bridgerton women are Omegas, which make them that more desirable. All the Bridgerton men are Alpha’s, which make them that more impressive. Gregory and Hyacinth are of course still too young to have presented, but there is no doubt what they will be.
Their designations make them the cream of the crop of London society. Attractive, lovely, desirable, and proven they are more than able of siring generations of pups.
The Featherington's meanwhile barely pass the bar. There hasn't been an Alpha or Omega born in their line for generations. Let's just say, they're not seen as attractive, lovely or desirable. And that was when they even had money.
There is no doubt in Penelope's mind that she will be a Beta. All her family, even Marina was one. Penelope is pleasantly resigned to the fact.
Beta’s have none of the power and confidence of Alpha’s; Penelope has neither and doesn't expect to gain them anytime soon. Omega’s, with their tantalizing desirability, as well as heats which increase their fertility ten-fold, makes them targets for all the lords and Alpha’s in England. The last thing Penelope would call herself is desirable- and London society has made it quite clear she's never going to find out about her ability to breed.
To keep up her ruse of Lady Whistledown Penelope is happy to be herself. A ordinary Beta, nothing fancy. She's shy and plain and out of the spotlight.
Not that she’s presented yet. It’s not official. But everyone knows.
It’s why her mother agreed to let her stay with the Bridgertons while they visit the Duke and Duchess of Hastings for a fortnight this summer. Beta’s have hardly any chance of being ruined by any single Alphas visiting the country home. Penelope is not an appealing catch in the slightest.
But as Eloise swings her delicate arms around her, Penelope can’t help but feel a sting of jealousy. Her closest friend, despite her best attempts, has an air around her; something that draws you in. Omega’s are the darlings of society and every Alpha’s dream of a wife.
Penelope knows her forthcoming status as Beta will mean she has no chance of being swept of her feet by an Alpha. Even if an one of them, for instance, Colin Bridgerton grew to care for her more than a sister, she will never equate to an Omega’s loveliness. Penelope will never have their ability to capture a room.
Or the temptation which is their scent.
“I was afraid your Mama would never let you come,” Eloise links her arm in hers, and practically pulls her up the castles stones steps, “It’s been truly awful without you,”
“You jest,” Penelope shakes her head, turning round to make sure her meagre luggage is being taken up by the servants. She’s managed to bring her least yellow dresses for the occasion.
“I’m serious!” Eloise cries, ever the dramatic, “Mother has invited over at least two eligible bachelors every night in the hope one of them will ‘catch my eye’,” She makes a face which tells her just what she thinks of that. Penelope laughs, shaking her head, her long curls tickling her neck.
“Well I’m glad I can be of service,” Penelope beams. It’s the first time in years she’s been out of her mama’s grasp, and already it feels as though a ten-tonne weight has lifted from her shoulders. Every single one of the Bridgertons treat her as part of the family, not as a burden and she’s been counting down the days for this visit for weeks.
“You are, most definitely,” Eloise’s eyes sparkle, and her friends tireless energy seems to melt into Penelope’s bones, as it always does, “You’re here now, and Colin got back this morning, so finally Mother, Anthony and Daphne are going to be outnumbered on the daily argument of me getting married,”
Penelope’s heart stutters in her chest, and she almost trips on the top step. It’s been three years since she rejected him for a dance at the Hasting’s ball, and she hasn’t seen him since. From the letters he’s sent to Benedict- and stolen by Eloise- Penelope knows Colin has been off adventuring, and most definitely raking, around the continent.
She’s done her best to forget about him. Penelope thought she had succeeded at batting her silly, immature crush away. But as she scans the thousands of windows for a peek of his face, Penelope realises that she has certainly not succeeded.
Eloise continues to prattle away, ignorant of the downpour of feelings chewing up Penelope’s stomach.
They don’t see him. Not when the housekeeper gives them a tour, or when Penelope gets shown to her room.
It’s far, far away from the bachelors corridor, but she can still smell him. Colin’s scent, like freshly baked bread, straight out of the oven. It makes her heart skip a beat, and her cheeks flush. Like no doubt it’s made plenty of the young ladies he’s met do the same. And more.
Penelope flops down on her head, and presses her head into her hands. What was going to be a relaxing holiday, is quickly turning into a test of her will.
But she refuses to fall in love with Colin Bridgerton again.
Penelope Featherington will not.
It sounds weak, even to her own ears.