Anthony should have known better than to venture into Lady Danbury’s garden alone on a night like tonight. But he was so blasted tired of being dogged by marriage-minded debutantes and their mamas that he had to escape.

He never believed that one of them would be laying in wait for him outside until it was too late and he was trapped.

“Hello, Lord Bridgerton,” Cressida Cowper greeted with a predatory look on her face.  “The gardens are lovely, are they not?”

Anthony cleared his throat and reflexively took a step back.  “Er, yes.  They are indeed.”

Cressida, of course, didn’t get the hint and stepped forward, erasing the distance he’d managed to create beteen them.

“Where is your chaperone?” Anthony asked (against his better judgment)

“Haven’t you heard, my lord? Spinsters do not need chaperones,” Cressida’s replied with a smirk that scared him

“You are not a spinster,” Anthony replied.  (Really, why was he continuing to engage her rather than running in the opposite direction?!)

“No.  I suppose not.  Thanks to you.”  Her smirk grew into  a sinister but satisfied smile as Anthony heard footsteps approaching.

This, apparently, was the impetus he needed to turn tail and run as far and as fast away from her as he could.

The last thing Viscount Anthony Bridgerton wanted or needed was to be trapped in a marriage with the likes of her.  If he had to marry, he wanted to at least like the woman he pledged his troth to.

Cressida, however, was surprisingly quick and strong for such a small woman and managed to catch him by the wrist before he could flee more than a few feet away.

“My father has threatened to marry me off to one of his aged friends if I don’t find a husband myself,” she explained, gripping his wrist in a vice-like manner.  “So, I had to take matters into my own hands.”

Anthony managed to extricate his wrist from her grip, but Cressida quickly sidestepped him and blocked his exit down the path away from her. “It is convenient that our goals align this season, is it not?”

Anthony, frustrated and torn between gentlemanly manners and self-preservation replied, “Our goals may be similar, Miss Cowper, but I assure you that they do not align.”  He stepped back from her again and attempted to turn around and leave through the path on the opposite side of alcove they’d unwittingly found themselves in when he was stopped in his tracks by the appearance of Penelope Featherington

The youngest Featherington wasn’t paying any attention to her surroundings as she hurried down the pathway toward them, as she appeared to be scribbling something on the dance card attached to her wrist.

It wasn’t until she was nearly upon them that she looked up.  When she did so, she gasped in surprise (and perhaps alarm?) and halted.  Penelope cleared her throat and greeted them.  “Lord Bridgerton.  Cressida. How lovely to see you both.”  Her voice was strained as she looked between them and added, “Together.  Here. Alone.”

Anthony groaned when he felt Cressida’s hand grasp the sleeve of his jacket from behind him.  Fuck. He had been so distracted by Penelope’s appearance that he forgot about Cressida the Viper.

“I’m afraid you’ve caught us, Penelope,” Cressida preened satisfactorily.  “So I suppose that means you get to be the first person to congratulate us on our engagement.”

Anthony jumped out of her grasp.  He had just shifted to half-face Cressida and give her a set-down for both her assumptions and her liberties when Penelope started to laugh.

It wasn’t a dainty, ladylike laugh, either, it was a full-bellied one that had tears leaking out of her eyes and her breath catching in her body.  Anthony was sure he heard a snort or two escape as Penelope tried and failed to regain control over her body.

“You’re not serious,” Penelope interjected between gasps for breath.  “There is no way he would marry you, not unless he had a death wish.”

Penelope straightened and composed herself.  “And I’m fairly certain that if he does have one, it’s not to die by your hand in matrimony.”

Cressida, affronted, growled low in her throat and stalked over to Eloise’s friend.  “ How dare you ,” she hissed menacingly.

“How dare I what?  Call you out as the liar we all know you are?”  Penelope looked from the blonde to him and back.  Then she straightened her spine and said, “He is a good man, Cressida.  He doesn’t deserve to be trapped with you for the rest of his life.”

Just then, Anthony heard the echos of Lady Cowper speaking to someone as she walked quickly toward their hiding spot.  “I cannot imagine you care this much about my flowers to require a tour in the dark,” Lady Danbury replied to whatever Lady Cowper said.

“Oh, but I do, Agatha.  Surely you know that,” the woman simpered placatingly as their footsteps drew closer.

In that moment, Anthony realized any dreams he had about his future were null and void.  His list of requirements for his future viscountess when feelings weren’t part of the equation no longer mattered.  The only thing that mattered was getting out of this alive.

Lady Cowper and Lady Danbury would not leave him exit this garden without a fiancé.  Thus, he had two choices:  Cressida Cowper or Penelope Featherington.

So, Anthony did the only thing he could under the circumstances and took advantage of the ladies’ distraction to slide by Miss Cowper and wrap a hand around Penelope’s waist.  She squeaked quietly in surprise but made no move to extricate herself from his grasp, which was a good thing in light of the fact that Lady Cowper, Lady Danbury, the both Misses Sharma, and his mother turned the corner at that very moment.

“Anthony?” his mother gasped upon seeing him in such close proximity to not one but two debutantes. “What is the meaning of this?”

Cressida stepped toward him and made to move in on his other side, but he pre-empted her by twisting away and wrapping his other arm around  the little redhead’s waist.

“You have perfect timing, Mother,” Anthony announced in as happy a voice as he could muster.  “Penelope has most graciously agreed to my proposal.  She will be the next Viscountess Bridgerton.”

Anthony played up his happiness by looking down adoringly at his new fiancé only to find that she was looking at him as anything but.

If looks could kill, he’d be dead.

Maybe he did have a death wish after all.  

~z~

Fortunately for him, the daggers Penelope was aiming in his direction shifted to Cressida when she stepped toward the group of women and said,  “He’s lying.”

Then she put a pout on her face worthy of Colin when all the sandwiches were gone and added, “Lord Bridgerton and I were alone for at least five minutes before she came along.  He just said that so he wouldn’t have to marry me.”  Cressida then looked back at him and Penelope scathingly.  “He is simply using her as a shield to get out of doing his duty.”

Anthony heard his mother’s sharp intake of breath and fought a groan when she asked, “Anthony, is this true?”

Lady Danbury thumped her cane and stepped toward them.  “Yes, boy.  Tell the truth.”  She pointed the cane in Cressida’s direction.  “If you have compromised Miss Cowper’s honor, you are duty-bound to make it right.”

Anthony reflexively pulled Penelope closer, clinging to the lifeline her presence provided, and swallowed.  What was he going to do now?  He didn’t want to marry Cressida but Lady Danbury’s stare was unnerving.  It was clear she believed her despite any sympathy she may have for his predicament.

Anthony’s mind was swirling as he desperately tried to come up with a response that would get him out of this.  He opened and closed his mouth, but no words escaped.  

“I agree with my daughter. He is clearly lying,” Lady Cowper stated. “Otherwise, why isn’t he vehemently denying it?”  She turned to his mother and declared, “He must marry her. “

Anthony dug his fingers into the fabric of Penelope’s yellow dress at her waist to get her attention.  When she looked up at him, he issued a silent plea for her help, conveying a desperate please with his eyes.

Penelope narrowed her eyes, studying him for a moment, before she sighed in a way that indicated she had just resolved herself to something.  Then she wrapped one arm around his back and lifted the other, placing it over his front arm where it rested at her waist.  She squeezed his forearm through his coat and nodded so slightly that he almost missed it. Then she turned to their audience.  “Anthony speaks the truth. We are to be married.”

Anthony had to bite his cheek to hold back a smile when his mother reeled back slightly at the redhead’s declaration and mouthed Anthony with wide eyes.  

“They are not,” Cressida fairly shrieked.  “They’re colluding to deny me what is rightfully owed.”

Lady Danbury leaned on her cane.  “Well, clearly this is a conundrum.”

“Two young ladies of impeccable breeding have been alone with a notorious Rake for an indeterminate amount of time, yet there is no evidence that anything happened.  When it boils down to one’s word against the other’s word , who do we believe?”

Lady Danbury eyed him shrewdly.  “It is clear that Lord Bridgerton and Miss Featherington share a level of familiarity based on their longstanding acquaintance, but that in and of itself should not begrudge Miss Cowper of her reparations to any damage her reputation may have suffered from this incident.”

Anthony smirked and silently blessed the old woman for providing him with the out he needed to ensure he would not have to share a future with the grasping debutante.  When words would not do, the only recourse was action.

Anthony smiled broadly at the group.  “I am most fortunate that Penelope’s constant presence in my home over the last few years has enabled us to build a familiarity that many couples would long to have upon their engagement.  Our proximity has definitely been convenient , has it not, darling?” he asked Penelope directly before leaning down to capture her lips in a kiss.

~z~

Anthony had intended for the kiss to be brief and chaste, but he quickly realized the road to hell is paved with good intention.  For, the moment his lips touched hers, Anthony found himself in a hell of his own making.  

Penelope gasped when their lips met and her body tensed up at his forwardness with her person.  However, it seemed that whatever reservations she had with regard to his familiarity vanished when she quite literally melted into his kiss.  The hand that had been resting on his forearm traveled up to his bicep and gripped for dear life as the other, resting at his back, tightened and pulled him closer.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Anthony recalled that they were performing for an audience, and so, before they got too carried away with themselves, he forced himself to pull back and end the kiss. It gave him no small amount of pleasure to notice her gaze was dazed and fuzzy when he looked into her eyes once again. She'd been as affected by their kiss as he.

Glancing at the gaggle of mamas and the viper Cressida, he saw disbelief on the faces of the former and glum resignation on that of the latter. HIs case had been made; he would be spared a lifetime with a grasping harpy. There was a twinge of guilt in the back of his mind that he had all but forced Penelope's hand, but what other choice did he have?

~z~

“Well, now that that’s settled, let us all return to the ball and share your happy news.”  Lady Danbury motioned for Anthony and Penelope to precede down the path that would lead the group back to the house.  

Anthony nodded in acquiescence and stepped forward, pulling a still dazed Penelope with him.  She fell into step beside him without a word and kept her eyes on the gravel below them, intently watching the toe of her yellow slippers peek out from below her hemline as she walked.

Anthony leaned his head toward her at the same time as he pulled her closer into his body.  “Thank you, Penelope,” he whispered.  “Truly.  You saved my life just now. I am in your debt.”

Penelope lifted her gaze from the ground to him.  She gave him a weak, glassy-eyed smile and said, “Then I suppose it’s a good thing you have forever to repay it.”

He smiled back at her warmly. "I suggest we start my reparations with a new wardrobe. Perhaps in Bridgerton Blue? Or are you partial to the yellow?" God forbid he be forced to look at that ghastly color for the rest of his life--but it was a small irritation in relation to the prospect of a lifetime with Cressida Cowper's ridiculous gowns and unfathomable hair styles.

“Honestly?” she asked.

“Always,” he answered.

Penelope leaned in, pressing the side of her breast against his sleeve, and whispered conspiratorially, “I hate yellow.”

When Penelope finished speaking and looked up at him with a sly smile and mischief in her eyes, Anthony chuckled.  “Good to know.”

~z~

“My Lord?” She asked.

“Yes?” He said looking down at her. 

She leaned him to him to whisper, “I want to apologize, in advance for my mother. I need you to know that I do not believe a damn thing she says.”  

He looked down at her and smirked, “Dearest, I assure you that her opinion is no use to me. I have made it a habit to not pay attention to her when she speaks.” His smirk deepened as she giggled and blushed on her cheeks and it went down her neck. He shameless followed the blush down her neck to the top of her breasts.  

“Good to know darling.  I will not have her live with us.” Penelope said. She was a bit out of breath from giggling.  Her chest was heaving slightly and Anthony was shamelessly looking at the top of her dress. 

 “My eyes are on my face, Milord. “ Penelope declared in an impeccable Irish accent. 

“Of course, My Lady, he said contritely, but with a smirk.  

They both laughed as they walked into the ball looking for Lady Featherington and it felt like the entire room turned and looked at them. One of Cowper’s friend, her name is irrelevant and he couldn’t remember it anyway, yelled out, “Cressida! You were to trap him!”

Anthony stopped and turned to Lady Danbury and his mother.  “See? She wanted to take me from my Penelope! I’m glad we were talking about our engagement.”  They both looked amused. 

“Indeed, Lord Bridgerton.” Lady Danbury said, then she turned to Lord Cowper. “My Lord, perhaps you take her in hand now before she truly disgraces your house.”  He grabbed his wife and daughter and left. 

They kept walking with Penelope looked up at him and leaning on his arm. Her breast was almost fully on his arm, beautiful and curvy. This won’t be so bad, he thought.  But then he realized she was wanting his attention.

“Your Penelope am I?” She said lowly. 

“Well you are about to be, so why not?”  Anthony gave her his best rakish smile. She giggled and lightly smacked his chest. 

“A capital-R Rake is what you are.” Then she looked around, then looked at me and stuck her tongue out at him.  Anthony couldn’t believe she did that and wanted to see how her kiss would taste again.  He was getting more on board with Penelope being his wife.  Maybe he should have a name he just calls her, Colin and Eloise call her Pen. Maybe she’d like something else.

“Penelope, could I call you Penny?  Maybe Nel?”  he asked her. 

She grimaced.  “Not Nel. Penny I like.  Nel is what Prudence calls me occasionally, I hate it.”

“Then Penny it is.  Oh look, here comes your Mama.”

“Damn and blast,” Penny whispered,  then she put on an overly happy smile, grabbed my arm tighter and then looked down.  That will not do. 

“Penny, look at me please. Whatever she says or plans or tries to do, you are getting out of her house. You are beautiful and once we get you that wardrobe THAT YOU PICK, you shine. Now, darling, smile and let’s go deal with her together.”, he encouraged, smiling down at her.

“Together, my Anthony,” she smirked. 

~z~

Penelope stayed in her room as long as she could the next morning, as she had no desire to see her mother after the spectacle she put on last night at the announcement of her engagement to Anthony.  

Penelope looked down at her left finger, ringless for now, and sighed.  She was getting married.  She still couldn’t believe it.  

Why had she gone alone with his mad plan?  She should have left him to Cressida.  If the viscount was careless enough of his surroundings to get cornered by her, then he should have had to reap the consequences.

But Penelope loved the Bridgerton family and she didn’t want them tainted by Cressida’s poisonous attitude for the rest of their lives.  It wasn’t a stretch to believe that she would dismantle them piece by piece until there was nothing left of the family she knew and loved despite their estrangement.

Penelope was just glad Anthony would have to take Eloise’s ire over their impending nuptials rather than her.  Maybe she would tell him about Whistledown so that Pen wouldn’t have to?

Then she could break their betrothal and finally use the money she’d saved up to buy a cottage in the country and live out her days as a spinster.

The smile that had formed on Penelope’s face at the prospect of Anthony Bridgerton handing her the key to her ruin on a silver platter fell when she heard a perfunctory knock on the door followed by Rae’s voice saying, “The viscount is here to see you, miss, and he has flowers.”

Damn and blast.

If she wanted to break their betrothal, she’d have to do it herself by confessing her biggest secret and hoping he’d be as angry as El was.

As Penelope dressed to see her caller, she tried to ignore the pang of regret she felt.  It was nice, last night, to have a partner, even if their partnership had been a reluctant and spontaneous one.  She would miss that.  

If I didn’t know any better, Penny, I’d think you were conspiring to get me alone,” Anthony said from across the rowboat.   

Pen smiled.  “That’s because I was, my lord.”  She had specifically requested a promenade so that she could hide in plain sight with him in this way.

Eloise’s brother chuckled at her honesty, which he probably wasn’t used to, but then grew serious.  “Anthony. Remember?  I have enough people in my life who call me by my title.  My wife shouldn’t be one of them.”

“We are not yet married.”

Anthony stopped rowing, tucked the oars away, and put his elbows on his knees.  He leaned toward her and said, “Semantics.”

Pen fought the blush that was inching to show itself at being the sole recipient of his attention and cleared her throat.  “Before we move forward with a wedding, there’s something I must tell you.”

Anthony suddenly straightened and reached for the oars.  “No there isn’t.”  He placed them back in the water and began rowing them back toward shore.

“But -,” Penelope sputtered.  “I must tell you - You must know -“

He stopped rowing just as suddenly as he started.  The boat drifted quite quickly through the water, bobbing them up and down and go and fro as he replied.  “If you don’t tell me, Penelope, then I don’t know,” Anthony stated seriously.  “So even if I know, I don’t really know.  You know?”

Penelope’s forehead scrunched in confusion.  “I am not following, my lord.”

“Penelope.  I am a peer of the realm.  A subject of Queen Charlotte.  I cannot know .  Because knowing and not doing anything about it puts my entire family at risk.  Do you understand what I am saying?”

Penelope gasped.  “You know.”

Anthony smirked and reached for the oars again.  “No.  I don’t.”

“But, if I ever had the opportunity to come face to face with Lady Whistledown, there are a few things I would like to say to her,” Anthony shared as he rowed them back to shore, much more sedately than earlier.

“And what might those things be?” Penelope asked warily.

Anthony paused rowing yet again.  “Honestly?”

Penelope nodded.  Knowing he knew and that he could be honest with her was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up.

“I think she is foolish and reckless,” he replied in the same voice he often scolds Eloise with.

“Foolish and reckless?”

“Yes.  For putting herself in danger to deliver her columns.”  

Penelope’s eyes narrowed as she fought the urge to wilt under his scolding stare.  “I am certain that she takes every precaution,” she defended.

Anthony gave up any pretense of rowing and leaned his elbows on his knees again.  “Do you know how many maids have been accosted and taken advantage of in that part of town?  Even if she sends *her maid*, she is foolish and reckless.”

“Should *I* ever have the opportunity to speak to Lady Whistledown, I will be sure to pass those concerns along, my lord.  Anything else?”

“You do that.  And, again I remind you that it’s Anthony, not my lord .”

“Noted,” she said with a reluctant half-smile.

“Good,” he replied with a broad one.  “And as for the other subject we are discusssing, I also think she is witty and clever. And even if her information isn’t always accurate, she has impeccable timing.”

Penelope’s chest puffed up at his compliments about her being witty and clever.  But she bristled at his criticism.  “Her information is *always* accurate and truthful.  Always.”

“I suppose we will have to agree to disagree on that for now,” Anthony replied with a wink.  “Truth, just like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder and is skewed by that person’s lived experience and access.”

“I disagree.”

“You may disagree all you like, but it is a futile effort.  I will sway you to my side soon enough.”

“I doubt that,” Pen stated confidently.

Anthony’s eyes roamed up and down her body in a way that made her shiver.  “I don’t.”

She was pondering what he meant by that when he switched subjects, “I will always be grateful to Lady Whistledown for saving my brother from an unwise marriage.  The timing of that column, arriving just as he was ready to abscond with your cousin to Gretna Green was, as I said, impeccable. It was quite a boon that she had access to such damning information on my brother’s intended at that precise moment, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” Penelope admitted rather reluctantly, realizing just how lucky she was that the viscount was the only one to figure out her identity from that column. “I cannot confess to know her mind, Anthony.  But, I feel confident in assuring you that Lady Whistledown has reasons  for doing whatever she does, even if they don’t seem to make sense to others at the time.”

He nodded once in understanding and then silently rowed them back to shore.  Although her mother would happily have left them out there alone all day, his was looking non too pleased about their extended excursion. 

~z~

Anthony had deduced that Penelope was Lady Whistledown ages ago, but the only confirmation he ever had of that fact was Eloise’s vehement one-eighty on all things Whistledown after the Featherington ball last season.  When she went from being joined at the hip to Penelope and obsessed with unmasking the writer to wanting nothing to do with either of them, he knew his instincts were correct.  But believing she is Whistledown and actually knowing it are two very different things, especially for a peer.

If he knew with one hundred percent certainty of Penelope’s alter ego, then he would be duty-bound to turn her in lest he risk his family’s place in Charlotte’s court.  But, if he maintained plausible deniability, then he could skirt the issue, at least for now.  

Once they were married, he and Penelope would have to have a lengthy discussion about Lady Whistledown’s future.  But, until then, he would allow Penelope to handle her own business - provided she stayed safe while doing it.

When they reached the dock, Anthony stowed the oars, stood, and disembarked.  He leaned down and held his hand out for Penelope to take and easily assisted her out of the boat.  He took a moment to marvel at the sight of her bare ankle as he did so, finding himself surprisingly eager to correct her misinformation when it came to Rakes.

Penelope had just found purchase on the dock when Anthony heard an unmistakeable and nightmarish bark coming toward them.  

It was a bark that could only mean two things: 

1. Kate was back in town, and, 
2. He needed to brace for impact.

In his effort to pull both himself and Penelope to safety from that menace of a pup, Anthony stepped backward - right off the side of the dock.

One second he was floating through the air with a warm body pressed against his and the next he was submerged under water with a woman whose dress was dead weight that was pulling them downward fast.

Fortunately, the lake wasn’t very deep near the shore and they hit the bottom relatively quickly.  Anthony let go of his fiancé so that he could find his feet and stand.  Once he was stable, he pulled a sputtering Penelope up from the water.  

Anthony patted her on the back as she coughed vehemently.  “Are you alright?” he asked worriedly.

Penelope was coughing, so she couldn’t talk.  She nodded and stuck an index finger up in a *wait a moment* motion.  

As soon as her coughing ceased, she wheezed out a “Yes” and smiled up at him.  

Heedless of the crowd that had formed around them - on the dock and the shore - Anthony ran his hands over he drenched hair and down her arms.  “Are you certain?”

In an uncharacteristic move, Penelope reached up and cupped his cheek.  “I am fine, Anthony.  Honestly.”

“Good,” he replied, relieved.  He pressed his check into her hand and smiled.  “Can’t have you dying before the wedding.”

Penelope slapped his cheek playfully and rolled her eyes.

She released him and reached down to grab her dress.  Once she lifted it above her knee (or at least he assumed it was above her knee because he couldn’t see under the water), she looked around  and  stepped away from him toward the shore.

Anthony watched her go and mentally slapped himself on the forehead for not thinking to do that last year when he fell in thanks to that infernal dog.

Anthony followed, wincing at the squishing sound his brand new, expensive, leather boots made as he did so.

But he thanked his lucky stars that he’d left his father’s timepiece at home.  After last seasons dunk where he narrowly missed having it ruined, he started carrying one he bought for everyday use.

He fished it out of his jacket pocket and found, sure enough, it was completely waterlogged.  At that moment Penelope happened to look back.  He managed to catch her eye and caught a concerned look as she glanced between him and the watch, so he shook his head.  In response, she blew out a breath and smiled, clearly relieved to know his heirloom was safe.

He was strangely comforted by that fact.

They reached the shore more quickly than Anthony anticipated.  He was more than happy to help her out of the water by tucking her close to his body.  Without a word spoken between them, Penelope wrapped a hand around his waist while she used the other one to keep her skirts up above the water line.  Each step was slow due to the mud, but they managed to make it out.  By the time Penelope stepped onto dry land, her gown was back down at her ankles but her feet were bare.  “Where are your shoes?” he asked.

Penelope stepped away from him and inclined her head toward the water.  “Somewhere at the bottom of the lake, I imagine.”

This revelation, as well as the state of Penelope’s dress, had her mother nearly in a state of apoplexy.  Anthony bit his cheek to hold back a smirk as Portia gave Kate the what-for when it came to Newton, suggested drowning him in said lake, and demanded reparations for the damage he caused.

Anthony was no fan of Newton, but he was of Kate, regardless of how things ended between them, so he declared that no harm was done and that he was replacing all of Penelope’s dresses anyway, so the damage didn’t matter. 

Then he picked up his fiancé in a bridal hold and carried her to his carriage.

Despite his desire to care for her, Anthony settled her inside it and ordered his driver to return her home quickly.  Then he hailed and hack and did the same.

~z~

Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers

April 25 1815

Dearest Gentle Reader, 

       Were you at Lady Danbury’s ball Thursday Last? If not, shame on you. You missed witnessing quite the most remarkable coup of the season. It was clear to all partygoers, and especially This Author, that Miss Penelope Featherington has captured the hand of the Viscount Bridgerton. After a mad dash back from the moon lit gardens chased by Lady Bridgerton, Lady Danbury and Lady Cowper. This Author has it on the best authority that the new couple was caught in a compromising position, and that Lady Cowper was a witness, but Lady C has been uncharacteristically close-lipped about the entire affair. Given that lady’s propensity for gossip, This Author can only assume that the Viscount (never known for lacking a spine) threatened bodily injury upon Lady C should she even breathe a syllable. 

       Though This Author was, sadly, unable to determine all the details, there was a considerable to-do yesterday near the Serpentine in Hyde Park involving Viscount Bridgerton, Penelope Featherington, both Misses Sharma, and an unnamed dog of indeterminate breed. This Author was not an eyewitness, but all accounts seem to indicate that the unnamed dog emerged the victor. 

       In quite a romantic turn, Viscount Bridgerton was seen sweeping his fiancé off her stocking clad feet, her unaccounted-for shoes presumably at the bottom of the Serpentine and whisking her to safety.  This Author likes nothing better than a dashing rescue. And if that makes her a romantic fool, so be it

Yours truly,

Lady Whistledown

The following day, as Anthony pursued the latest edition of Whistledown, he couldn't help but admire the writer’s way of twisting the narrative of his second betrothal into a threat, hopefully clearing up the last of the rumors of Cressida's entrapment.  

Then she went on to make him looks the hero and blaming the rest of an embarrassing situation on the dog. Some cheek she had. 

He tried but couldn't quite wipe the grin from his face for the rest of the morning. 

~z~

EPILOGUE 

Anthony had never been particularly enamored of gardens despite his Rakish proclivities.  He wasn’t a stranger to outdoor adventures by any means, but he was never one to follow the crowd when it came to amorous liaisons.  And, at balls, gardens were always the chosen location for misbehavior.  Easy access and shadowed pathways made them appealing even if the high traffic increased the risk of getting caught.  Anthony much preferred a good alcove, an empty room (with a door lock), or carriage whenever he planned to misbehave, for they all afforded privacy that gardens tended to lack.

However, since marrying Penelope, he had changed his stance.  Gardens, especially Lady Danbury’s, were excellent locations for clandestine trysts.  The possibility of getting caught added to the thrill rather than detracted from it now that he faced no dire consequences. Since the only ones he had to worry about by taking his wife in the garden were the natural kind, and those were moot at this point, Anthony figured *why not have some fun*?

He just wished his wife shared his opinion.

“Anthony.  We can’t,” she murmured. “Someone will see.”

Anthony didn’t even look up from her neck, which he was currently peppering with wet opened-mouth kisses.  “Yes, we can, baby,” he replied, pulling the bodice of her new green and black Parisian-style ball gown down her shoulder to expose more of her creamy skin.  

“We should stop,” she protested with her mouth as her hands came up to hold his head to her body in a vice-like grip.  Part of what he’d grown to love about her since their impromptu engagement was that she was a woman of contradictions.  Quiet but fierce. Powerful but restrained.  Demure but wanton. 

Penelope was trying to convince herself that fucking him in Lady Danbury’s garden was a bad idea, not him.  He knew it.  She knew it.  She just didn’t want to admit that she knew it.  

Anthony shifted his lips from her shoulder to the cleavage that was sticking out of Madame Delacroix’ latest custom creation, which was a masterpiece well worth the ridiculous sum he spent on it.  Since her breasts were gloriously full right now, it didn’t take much effort to have her moaning his name and begging him for more despite her reservations.

Anthony walked her backward, to the statue that sat at the edge of the alcove where they’d gotten engaged last year, and pressed her against it.  Pen gasped when her back hit the cold stone, but she immediately recovered and moved her hands from his biceps to his waist.  Anthony shivered when her soft fingers came in contact with his bare skin as she sought to open his trousers.  Desperate to feel more of her, Anthony reached down and inched up the delicate skirt she was wearing until he could coax her to wrap her leg around his hip.  Pen did so willingly and whimpered when his hand trailed up it to her center.  Of course, she was dripping for him already and her whimper turned into a moan when he sluiced a finger through her folds.

Penelope whispered his name and sped up her actions to open his pants as he coaxed her toward her first orgasm of the night.  She nearly had his trousers open when she suddenly went rigid in his arms.  Her abrupt change in demeanor concerned him, so Anthony lifted his head from her beast and looked over his shoulder to see they had a very shocked audience staring at them.

He nodded in acknowledgment of the presence, but quickly turned back to his wife to set her to rights by pulling his fingers out of her and releasing her leg, straightening her skirts, and lifting her bodice back into position with his dry digits.  Penelope easily buttoned his trousers back up despite her embarrassment at being caught. She was smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles on the lapels of his jacket when he purposely sucked his index and middle fingers into his mouth and licked them clean.  Anthony got a thrill when the action distracted Pen from the situation enough to make her pupils dilate and her throat bob.  When he winked at her, she slapped him on the chest and pushed him away.  

Then, like the regal, wonderful, amazing Viscountess she was, his wife faced their audience head-on without a single lick of shame at what they’d been caught doing.  “Cressida,” she said, “I’m afraid there are no unmarried gentlemen in this corner of the garden to fall prey to your schemes tonight.“

Anthony choked back a laugh as Miss Cowper’s face grew red as beet when Penelope purposely laid a hand on her distended abdomen and rubbed it in a not-so-subtle dig at how spectacularly the chit had failed to trap him into marriage last year before going on to say, “But I have it on good authority that men favor the alcove by the fountain for smoking and … other things.  So, perhaps you should try there.”

Cressida growled an angry, “*You little…*”and lunged at Penelope over the veiled insults, spurring him into action. Anthony effortlessly stepped in front of his wife and stopped the blonde in her tracks.  He issued a menacing, “Don’t even think about it,” that had Miss Cowper cowering in wide-eyed fear.

Anthony stepped forward, purposely invading the chit’s space and added, “If you ever lay a hand on my wife, you will rue the day you met me.  Do you understand?” in his Viscount voice.  

Her jaw and fists were clenched in barely-contained rage, but she nodded once in acquiescence and stepped backward.  Anthony relaxed his stance and features and said, “Excellent,” in his most pleasant and congenial voice.  “Now be a good girl and scamper, would you?”  

Cressida huffed, but did as he bade.  As soon as she was gone the two of them broke into laughter.  Anthony returned to Penelope and pulled her into his body, wrapping his hands around her waist the best he could.

He leaned down and kissed her chastely, proud of the woman she’d blossomed into over the past year.  “Want to get out of here?” he asked, looking down into her upturned, somewhat dazed face.

Penelope smiled and nodded.  She reached around her to remove one of his hands from behind her waist so that she could tuck herself into his side.  Instead of letting go of his hand, though, she brought his fingers - the same ones that had been inside her - to her lips and sucked them in, making him groan and his cock stand back up to half-mast instantaneously.  When Penelope released them, she entwined her fingers with his and kissed his knuckles.  “Lead the way, husband, so you can finish what you started.”

“As you wish, wife.”