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Assistant: Title: Heartbreaks in the Dark
        Author: LillyMouse LillyMouse 
        Chapter: 14/23 
        Summary: Bridgerton Modern AU: Dive into the chaos where Anthony Bridgerton falls hopelessly in love with Penelope Featherington, who's just starting to get over Colin—the king of obliviousness. Meanwhile, Anthony morphs into a possessive, lovesick fool.So in short:Anthony witnesses Penelope's "warrior goddess" moment and it's all downhill from there.Penelope, freshly un-pined from Colin, now has Anthony pining after her. It's a whole mess.Eloise might be developing a bit of a drinking problem (just because I find drunk Eloise so funny).Colin remains blissfully unaware of everything, as usual.Anthony's possessiveness turns him into, well, a bit of a nightmare.Guaranteed HEA because I can't handle anything else. This will end well for Pen and Ant, at least. 
  Warnings:
 PSA: This is a Penthony fic. If that’s not your jam, just scroll on by!
        Contents: Chapter 14
    

    

        
          
          
            
 Hyacinth and Gregory are merciless with their teasing (maybe they just need some sleep, something abut noises coming through the walls? )
 Eloise is enthusiastically captaining the Penelope-and-Anthony ship. 
 Penelope is seriously considering a move to New Zealand to become a sheep farmer
 Colin—shockingly—is being mature for once! 

          
        

      
        
          Thanks to Cis4brookefor giving title to this chapterAnd thank you everyone for your lovely support
            
            (See the end of the chapter for  more notes.)
            
      
  

  
  
    
    
  
  May 2024
  Bridgerton Mortification

  Anthony

  Anthony’s gaze flicks to the door every time it opens, his stomach twisting with each passing minute. She should be here by now. Sitting beside him, maybe offering a small smile, grounding him in the midst of the usual family chaos. But every time the door swings open, it’s someone else—and then Eloise walks in. Alone.

  A knot tightens in his chest. Penelope isn’t coming.

  He shifts in his chair, a frown tugging at his lips. The disappointment gnaws at him, irritation building beneath the surface. They had left things fine last night, hadn’t they? They’d laughed, kissed, and lingered in bed until Eloise came crashing in. Nothing had felt awkward then (not counting Eloise). Everything had seemed... right. He’d convinced himself she felt the same. So why isn’t she here?

  Eloise drops into her seat, grinning like the hungover mess she is. “Morning, all!” she says, grabbing a roll as if she hadn’t just left Anthony to be slowly devoured by his own family.

  He tries to keep his expression neutral, but the tension in his jaw is hard to ignore. His siblings, of course, notice immediately. They always do.

  Benedict, of all people, leans forward, smirking. “You look tense, brother. Not enough sleep? Or…” he trails off, raising an eyebrow at Hyacinth, “is it because someone’s missing from the table?”

  Anthony stabs at his food, refusing to engage. Not here. Not now. But before he can shut it down, Hyacinth jumps in, practically buzzing with mischief.

  “Penelope’s always here, isn’t she? You think she’s avoiding us... or maybe someone in particular?”

  His grip tightens on his fork. He expects the teasing—he did grow up in this family—but the way they’re dancing around it makes his skin crawl.

  Then Gregory chimes in, far too pleased with himself. “If I were in her place, after hearing all those noises through the wall last night, I’d probably skip lunch with family too.”

  The fork clatters onto the plate as Anthony’s head snaps toward Gregory. “What?”

  Gregory, grinning like he’s won a twisted game, glances at Hyacinth for confirmation. “Oh, didn’t you know? Our room was right next to Pen and El’s last night. Heard everything—including Eloise offering up her soul to the toilet.”

  Hyacinth sighs dramatically. “Some things a sister should never have to hear. Never. And I'm not talking about Eloise's puking.”

  Anthony’s face burns, not just from embarrassment but from the sudden, all-consuming urge to defend what happened last night. The casual way they’re discussing it ignites something in him.

  Then Colin, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet, finally speaks. His tone is sharp, cutting through the noise, and when Anthony meets his gaze, it’s like a punch to the gut. Hurt. And worse, betrayal.

  “Really, Anthony? With Hyacinth and Greg as your audience?”

  Colin’s words twist something deep inside him. His stare isn’t just brotherly concern—it’s a warning.

  Before Anthony can respond, Benedict—ever the peacemaker with terrible timing—leans in, half-grinning. “Oh, come on, Colin. Don’t get all dramatic on us now. Anthony’s a grown man. He can—”

  “Sh@g my best friend?” Colin snaps, eyes never leaving Anthony’s.

“You mean my best friend?” Eloise chimes in casually, blatantly boycotting Colin’s claim and giving Anthony an exaggerated wink that no one at the table could miss. “I have no complaints. She seemed reasonably satisfied this morning.”


  Benedict, for once, blinks, surprised by Colin’s intensity. “Well, when you put it that way…”

  Anthony’s mind races. He wants to defend himself, but there’s nothing he can say to make Colin back down. Penelope isn’t a fling—not to him. But he doesn’t owe anyone an explanation, least of all in front of the entire family.

  Before he can find the words, Eloise steps in, far too amused. “Penelope didn’t come because she’s mortified at the idea of sitting through this.” She waves a hand at the chaos. “She begged me to make an excuse for her. Said she couldn’t deal with the teasing and nosiness.”

  Anthony’s heart sinks. She’s embarrassed? That’s not how it’s supposed to go. Last night felt... right. But hearing that Penelope begged Eloise to cover for her makes him question everything.

  Hyacinth, of course, can’t resist. “Well, can you blame her? If I’d been the one getting banged against the wall loud enough for the whole family to hear, I’d skip out on lunch too. Honestly, Anthony, subtlety really isn’t your thing.”

  Anthony’s jaw clenches. This isn’t how he imagined any of this going.

  Gregory, first to recover, leans in, grinning. “We’re just lucky Eloise stumbled in when she did. Probably saved us from round three. You know, with all that moaning and grunting.”

  Hyacinth cackles, slapping the table. “God, could you imagine? No one would’ve slept.”

  Anthony grits his teeth, his patience fraying, but before he can say anything, Gregory adds with a wicked grin, “Credit where it’s due—sounds like you gave her quite the workout. But next time, maybe keep it down. Some of us value our beauty sleep.”

  The jokes bounce off him, but the anger—at himself, at the situation—simmers. He hates this. Hates that Penelope isn’t here. Hates that his family has turned something private into a spectacle. But most of all, he hates the thought that Penelope might feel ashamed. That she might regret.

  Then Colin, still glaring, leans closer, voice low and dangerous. “You’d better not hurt her, Anthony. I mean it.”

  Anthony meets his gaze, his stomach twisting further. He’s not going to hurt her. He wouldn’t. But Colin’s look says he isn’t convinced.

  “I have no intention of hurting her.” Anthony says, his voice tight.

  Benedict claps him on the shoulder, like that will somehow fix things. “See, Colin? Anthony’s finally growing up. You should be happy for him.”

  Colin doesn’t look convinced, but Hyacinth throws in another jab. “Too bad he didn’t grow up before traumatising half the family.”

  Anthony groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. Penelope was very, very smart to skip this lunch. She must’ve known exactly what kind of hell she was dodging—unlike him.

  “Smart move.” he mutters under his breath, wishing he could disappear too.

  Gregory’s still not done. “Speaking of growing up, I think we need a new family rule. No more loud s@x in rooms next to mine.”

  Hyacinth nods, all mock-seriousness. “Agreed. I’ll draft the proposal for Mum.”

  “Did I hear someone mention a proposal?” Violet asked as she stepped into the dining room. Her gaze shifted to Anthony with a warm smile. “Ah, Anthony, how wonderful to see you. It was a wonderful evening last night was it not? Penelope could not make it today?”

  Anthony buries his face in his hands, wishing more than anything that he were somewhere—anywhere—else.
 
  Penelope

  Penelope’s eyes dart between the clock on the wall and the phone in her hand, her heart racing as if she’s being chased. By what? She doesn’t know. Shame? Anxiety? The memory of last night’s events? All of it, really. Her stomach twists as she paces the length of the living room, her thoughts spiralling wildly.

  This is a disaster. An absolute disaster.

  She’s only just gotten over Colin, and now she’s gone and slept with his brother. Anthony, of all people. The eldest, her boss, the one who’s supposed to be serious and responsible, who’s never shown a hint of interest in her before—and now she’s ruined everything. Their friendship, her relationship with the Bridgertons, her own sanity.

  Her phone vibrates in her hand. She glances at it, heart leaping to her throat. It’s just a notification about a sale at Harrods. She tosses the phone onto the couch like it’s scalded her.

  “What am I going to do?” she whispers to the empty room, her voice strained. “What am I going to 
  
    say
  
  ?”

  She runs a hand through her hair, already a mess from the constant tugging and scraping of her fingers. She can’t sit down, she can’t think straight, she can barely breathe. Her thoughts whirl from one terrible possibility to another, each worse than the last.

  What if he’s annoyed with her? What if he’s regretting everything because of all the sibling teasing? She knows they probably crucified him at lunch, and she’d only made it worse by not showing up. What if he thinks she’s a coward?

  Her stomach churns with dread. Worse, what if they all think she’s... loose? She can already imagine the whispers? That she’d pined after Colin for years and now, barely a few months later, she’s in bed with Anthony. She can almost see their faces, the judgmental looks, the raised eyebrows.

  “I should just quit.” she mutters, her pacing increasing in speed. “Yes, that’s it. I’ll quit and move to New Zealand. I’ve always wanted to visit New Zealand. If it was good enough for Lord of the Rings it's good enough for Penelope Featherington!”

  She imagines it for a moment. A small, quaint house in the middle of nowhere. Sheep, maybe. Definitely no Bridgertons. No reminders of her spectacular idiocy. It sounds peaceful, idyllic, but then the image of Anthony pops into her head, and her face burns with a mix of shame and something much more dangerous.

  Penelope squeezes her eyes shut, trying to push the thought away. It was just a fling. Why is she obsessing over it so much? She had flings before. Not really. But he did. She doesn’t want to be a fling. She wants more, wants the way he looked at her last night, the way he touched her like she was the most precious thing in the world. She wants that all the time. But she can’t say that, can she? She can’t demand anything. Not when she’s the one who jumped into his bed like some over-eager groupie.

  She groans, pressing her palms to her eyes. “I’m an idiot. An absolute, bl@@dy idiot.”

  A sudden, horrifying thought strikes her. What if he thinks she’s only with him because she’s got a thing for Bridgerton brothers? Her stomach drops. Oh God, what if he thinks she’s trying to seduce her way through the entire family? First Colin, now Anthony—who’s next? Benedict?

  She nearly laughs at the absurdity of it. Almost. But it’s not funny. It’s awful.

  She paces faster, her feet nearly tripping over each other. What she needs to do is talk to him, clear the air. Yes, she’ll talk to him. Apologise. Yes, apologise for... for what? For having s@x with him? For wanting more? For not wanting more? For not knowing what the hell she wants?

  But no. No, she can’t talk to him. She’s too embarrassed. How could she look him in the eye and explain all this nonsense swirling around in her head?

  “I’m going mad.” she says to the empty room, her voice edging on hysteria. “I’m losing my bl@@dy mind.”

  Her eyes fly to the kitchen. Maybe she should make tea. Yes, tea. Tea fixes everything, right? This is Britain! Tea is a universal answer to everything. She heads for the kitchen, but then another thought hits her like a punch to the gut.

  What if he’s angry with her? What if he regrets it all and he’s going to come over here and tell her it was a mistake? Her heart plummets at the idea, and suddenly she’s not just pacing—she’s practically running laps around the apartment.

  She needs to talk to him. No, she doesn’t. Yes, she does. She needs to assure him that she understands it’s just a fling. That she’s not expecting anything. But then she imagines him saying, “Yes, it was just a fling” and her heart shatters into a million pieces. Maybe she should just text him. A quick, casual text, something like, “Hey, had fun last night, no pressure, see you at work!” But the thought of him reading that makes her want to die.

  Her eyes land on the kitchen counter, and her heart skips a beat. What if he came over and they talked, really talked, and then... and then he pushed her up against that counter and—

  “No, no, no!” she exclaims, slapping a hand to her forehead. “Stop thinking like that!”

  But the image is there now, vivid and insistent. His hands on her hips, his breath hot against her ear, the weight of him pressing her down until all she can do is gasp his name—

  The sound of the door unlocking snaps her out of the fantasy. She freezes, heart in her throat, as the door swings open and Eloise stumbles in, still looking thoroughly hungover.

  “Pen, what are you doing?” Eloise asks, blinking at her. “Why are you running around the livingroom like a madwoman?”

  Penelope gapes at her, words failing her completely. What is she doing? Why is she like this? She opens her mouth to answer, but all that comes out is a strangled, “I—”

  “Is this about last night?” Eloise’s eyes narrow, and then she groans, dropping her bag onto the floor. “Oh no, you’re not going to be all weird about it, are you?”

  Penelope glares at her, crossing her arms. “Weird? 
  
    Weird?
  
   I’m not being weird. I’m being... reasonable.”

  Eloise snorts. “Right. Reasonable. That’s why you look like you’re about to either cry or have an aneurysm.”

  Penelope’s shoulders slump. “I don’t know what to do, El. I feel like I’ve ruined everything.”

  Eloise rolls her eyes, kicking off her shoes and collapsing onto the couch. “You haven’t ruined anything. Anthony’s a big boy, he can handle this.”

  “But what if he regrets it?” Penelope’s voice is small, her eyes wide and full of panic. “What if he thinks I’m—”

  “A complete idiot?” Eloise interrupts, raising an eyebrow. “Because that’s what you’re acting like.”

  Penelope groans, flopping down next to her. “I don’t know what to say to him. I want to apologise, but then I think I should just ignore it, and then I think I should move to New Zealand and become a sheep farmer.”

  Eloise laughs, the sound bright and full of genuine amusement. “Sheep farmer, huh? That’s your big plan?”

  Penelope nods miserably. “It’s either that or face him and tell him I understand it was just a fling, but then I think about that and I want to die.”

  “Pen” Eloise says gently, placing a hand on her arm. “Just talk to him. You like him, right?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Then talk to him. He’s not going to think you’re a... whatever it is you’re worried about.”

  Penelope takes a deep breath, her heart still pounding. “I don’t know if I can.”

  “Of course, you can. You’re Penelope Featherington. You can do anything” Eloise says, her voice firm and reassuring.

  Penelope nods slowly, trying to muster the courage. “Maybe you’re right.”

  Eloise grins. “Of course, I’m right. Now, do you want some tea?”

  Penelope laughs, the sound shaky but genuine. “Tea sounds good.”



  Anthony

  He wants to call her. To hear her voice. To see her face. To hold her close. To kiss her again. The uncertainty is suffocating, like a mountain pressing down on his chest. He needs to escape his siblings, if only for a moment. Their teasing is relentless, but there’s something else beneath it—a genuine sense of approval, even happiness. Because this isn’t just idle gossip for them. It’s Penelope, someone they all care for deeply. They want to see him happy, to see her happy—everyone except Colin.

  Colin’s silence at lunch is the most unsettling thing. His stare is a simmering cauldron of unspoken words, his eyes filled with hurt and accusation. Anthony barely manages to keep his composure under that gaze.

  Now, in the quiet of his office, Anthony’s thumb hovers over the screen of his phone, Penelope’s contact ready to be dialled. He frowns, the gentleman in him insisting that he should be the one to reach out, to assure her that everything is fine, that he isn’t upset. That he wants to see her again, to talk, to—

  A knock on the door interrupts his thoughts. Before he can answer, Colin steps inside, his face set in a grim expression that does nothing to calm Anthony’s already frayed nerves.

  “Colin” Anthony greets, his voice steady despite the turmoil churning inside him. “What brings you here?”

  Colin doesn’t answer right away. He closes the door behind him with deliberate slowness, as if buying time. Finally, he sits down opposite Anthony, folding his hands in his lap, his eyes dark and stormy.

  “Can you lose something you never had, brother?” Colin’s voice is low, almost a whisper, but the pain in it is sharp enough to cut through the tension in the room.

  Anthony swallows, his throat suddenly dry. “Oh yes.” he replies, meeting Colin’s gaze head-on. “Yes you can.”

  There’s a long pause, the silence between them heavy and charged. Anthony can see the struggle in Colin’s eyes, the way his jaw clenches as he wrestles with the words.

  “I am a fool” Colin finally says, his voice strained. “And a coward. I’ve spent years—years—pretending that what I felt for her was nothing more than friendship. I was so d@mn scared of even asking myself if I could love her in more than a friendly way because I knew… I knew something would change. I was terrified, so I dragged it out, buried my head in the sand, slept around like some kind of fool, and held onto her friendship like it was the only thing that mattered.”

  Anthony’s chest tightens. He’s known Colin all his life, seen him at his best and worst, but this is different. This is raw, unfiltered truth, the kind that can only come from real pain.

  “You were hurting her, Colin.” Anthony says softly, his voice filled with an unexpected gentleness. “She was there, right in front of you, and you were hurting her. All those times you paraded around with your flavour-of-the-month girlfriends, the way you’d just disappear for weeks, never respecting any boundaries she tried to set. It was cruel.”

  Colin flinches, his eyes squeezing shut as if the words are a physical blow. “I know.” he mutters, his voice thick. “I know I hurt her. But I was too afraid to stop, too afraid that if I did, I’d lose her completely. And now…” He looks up, his gaze locking onto Anthony’s. “And now you’ve taken her from me.”

  Anthony’s stomach twists. He wants to say something, to deny it, but he can’t. Because the truth is, he has taken her. He’s seen Penelope in a way that Colin never allowed himself to, and he’s not sorry for it. Not one bit.

  “Barely anything has happened between us.” Anthony says, his voice low but firm. “But I intend for it to. I’ve seen her, Colin. Really seen her. And I want her. I’ve wanted her for a while now.”

  Colin’s jaw clenches, his hands gripping the arms of the chair so tightly his knuckles turn white. For a moment, Anthony thinks he’s going to stand up, maybe even take a swing at him. But then the tension drains out of him, leaving only a bone-deep weariness in its place.

  “She’s too good for us.” Colin says quietly, almost to himself. “Too good for either one  of us. But if you’re going to be with her, Anthony, you can’t hurt her.“You can’t treat her like some kind of... distraction, or project, or whatever it was you used those other women for before.”

  Anthony leans forward, his eyes blazing. “This isn’t a game, Colin. I’m not doing this on a whim. I care about her.”

  Colin holds his gaze for a long moment, searching for something, and Anthony lets him. He lets Colin see the truth, lets him see that whatever else might be true, this isn’t a fling for him. It’s not something he’s going to walk away from when it gets difficult.

  Finally, Colin nods, a small, almost imperceptible movement. “Alright then.” he says softly. “But  Anthony, you’re holding her heart in your hands. Don’t break it.”

  Anthony’s throat tightens, and for a moment he can’t speak. He nods, his voice thick with emotion. “I won’t.”

“And don’t be... I guess, don’t be like me.”Anthony nods again, his throat still constricted, words failing him.
  Colin stands up, his shoulders slumping as if a weight has been lifted off them and replaced by another, heavier one. “I’m trusting you, Anthony” he says quietly, before turning and walking out of the office, leaving Anthony alone with his thoughts and the crushing responsibility that now rests on his shoulders.

  Anthony takes a deep breath, staring at the empty doorway. Then, with a steadying hand, he reaches for his phone. He’s still nervous, still uncertain, but one thing is clear: he has to talk to Penelope. 

  
  

    
      
        
        
          Now I’m feeling a bit sorry for poor Colin. Maybe I’ll write a Polin story too, but he’s not getting this one!'
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