About Time

Recovery

As Penelope healed from her injury, she and Benedict became intimately close in an entirely different way than they had in the garden. Benedict had never felt this close with any woman that wasn't in his family. He and Penelope were friends. More so, Benedict knew he would do anything to protect her, even if that meant from his brother. So over the next two weeks, as Penelope healed from her concussion, Benedict brought her favorite flowers and snacks and read her favorite poems to her. He watched as she slept, soothing her whenever she had a nightmare, which was frequent after what Colin did to her. Benedict stayed by Penelope's side for her complete recovery, only leaving to bathe and eat when he had to. If it weren't considered inappropriate by society's standards, he would say they were already courting. Even Eloise approved of the pairing, which was the highest achievement if there was one.

Colin desperately wished he could be in Benedict's place, but he kept his distance out of fear he would hurt her again. Watching Penelope fall, he pictured her cries from the night in the garden. He imagined the look of hurt in her eyes at the Featherington ball. He imagined the betrayal she must have felt. The loss of trust in the man she once called friend. Colin wasn't sure he even trusted himself anymore. He loved Penelope with every fiber of his being, which is why it hurt so much more to admit that all he could do for her at the time was step aside.

Penelope was soon off of bed rest and allowed to finish her recovery at home, not that anyone was eager for her to leave, especially Penelope herself. For once, she was thankful at her mother's assumption of her being clumsy as it meant no further prodding of questions. Portia was, in fact, giddy that Benedict came to call upon her after the first day she arrived back. After she assumed he came to call upon Prudence, of course. Penelope rushed to the top of the stairs in time to hear Benedict painstakingly explaining his intentions to her mother.

"Mrs. Featherington, why on earth would I be here to call upon Prudence? I am here for Penelope. I wish to court her."

"Penelope?"

"Yes, Penelope. Your daughter."

"Oh, yes, of course. Penelope. That is joyous news." Penelope wished she could say she hurt by her mother's tone, or even surprised by it, but she wasn't.

"I was hoping we might promenade this morning. It is a lovely day for a walk, is it not?"

"Indeed. I'm sure she will be right down. Penelope! PENELOPE!"

"I am here, mother." Penelope hurried down the rest of the stairs, careful not to trip and worsen her injury.

"I have brought yourself and your daughters flowers for the occasion, Mrs. Featherington."

"They are quite beautiful. I believe you may be the first to bring Penelope flowers." Prudence snidely laughed with her mother. "Well, do not keep the man waiting, Penelope. Invite him in."

"Mr. Bridgerton, it is a pleasure to see you again. As it was, I did see you only hours ago." She smiled brightly, earning a warm smile from Benedict in return.

"I hardly think such formalities are needed between us, Pen."

"Nonsense! She will use your family name until I say otherwise!" Portia scoffed.

"Very well. It could be quite fun. We could pretend to be strangers." Benedict extended his arm. "Shall we promenade then, Miss Featherington?"

"Why yes, sir, whom I have never met before. I would love to." Penelope giggled to herself and took his arm as Prudence and Portia followed.

The sun was beating down harder than Penelope had thought, and shady areas were becoming less frequent the farther they walked. If it weren't for Benedict's engaging conversation, she would have thought they had been walking for hours. Just before they reached the Bridgerton's tent, Penelope noticed her mother had stopped to talk to another mother of the Ton. She was primping and pruning her daughter, Prudence, as if she were a prize pony.

Mrs. Featherington was so busy trying to sell off her pony that she didn't even notice when Penelope fainted in Benedict's arms. The entire Bridgerton clan, including Colin, rushed to her side.

"Penelope! Penelope, stay with me!" Benedict shouted as Eloise tried her best to fan her. Penelope's last image before her eyes gave way to the darkness was Benedict and Colin standing over her. They both look worried, for sure. But there was a desperation in Colin's eyes that stuck with her.

Colin could admit that he was not a frequent churchgoer and often questioned his faith. But the sight of Penelope, frail and fragile in his brother's arms, replayed in his mind every second until he knew she was safe, so he prayed for nothing but that.

When Penelope awoke a day later, she was again in the Bridgerton guest bedroom. The blue paper walls she stared at for weeks during her recovery gave her a sense of calm again.

"Pen, you're awake!"

"Colin?" She studied his face as her eyes adjusted to the light. His eyes were sunken and grey, his hair disheveled. His skin was paler than when she last saw him. When was the last time he ate something?

"I'll go get Benedict. I'm sure you'd much rather be with him." Colin turned away disappointedly.

"No, wait." Penelope strained. "Colin, are you alright?"

"That is so very you, Pen. Worrying about my wellbeing when just a day ago you fainted under the sun." He smiled half-heartedly.

"You know what I mean, Colin. I hope you haven't been worrying too much."

"Never." He gave her an empty laugh.

"Colin, this is not your fault. Don't blame yourself for any of what's happened." Before he could object, she continued. "I want to put the past behind us and be friends again. Please." She grabbed his hand and squeezed it comfortingly.

"Of course, Pen. I want nothing but that. I am just glad to see you are okay." Colin's shoulders fell with a sense of ease as they stared into each other's eyes and stayed holding hands. It felt like his world was coming back together, and Penelope realized she might have felt the same. A moment later, Benedict returned holding a book of poetry and dropped it upon seeing that Penelope was finally awake.

"Penelope! I'm so glad you are alright. I was so worried." Colin slowly stepped out of the room but stayed by the door. Penelope looked at him regretfully for a moment before looking back at Benedict.

"Benedict, I cannot thank you enough for being there to catch me when I fell."

"If only I were there to catch you the first time." He glared at his brother across the room.

"That's enough, Benedict. I forgave Colin and asked if we could be friends again. You are brothers, so I suggest you do the same. If only for my sake. I can't bear to see you two fighting anymore."

"Very well. If Penelope forgives you, so do I."

"Thank you, Benedict." The brothers embraced for a moment before resuming their attention on Penelope.

"I am glad we are finally on good terms again, brother, because I would not be able to ask Penelope this if not for your friendship with her."

"Ask me what?" She asked innocently.

"Penelope Featherington, death has taken too close a call on you, and I do not wish to waste another moment of this life not being by your side. Will you marry me?"

"Benedict, I-" She searched Colin's eyes for an answer and found nothing. "Yes, I will marry you, Benedict!"