Dear Reader—
It is with great pleasure that This Author announces love is truly in the air, and in no insignificant concentration. Akin to the nitrogen in our atmosphere, the pheromones secreted from the eligible misters and misses are in great abundance and seem to be smothering even those who resist the outdated proclivity of marriage. 
We first bore witness to the love of Simon and Daphne Basset, which had a rather deceitful start, much to the amusement of This Author, but culminated in what can now be considered a truly proper match. A mere two years later we became privy to the rather maddening passion between Anthony and Kate Bridgerton, who caused quite the stir with their cutthroat athleticism and contemptuous mockery.
  Be advised, gentle reader, that although it is not mandated, watching these four love birds tweet about is recommended before continuing on with the newest love match, and the limelight of this column, Colin Bridgerton and Penelope Featherington. This story is for the wallflowers of society, those who desperately wish to experience new adventures but settle for reading them in books and watching others do what they cannot, for all the lovely spinsters who believe that they will never love or be loved and for those who find their courage behind pen and paper — or some other technological gizmo that This Author is not cognizant of — rather than using their God-given voice. If you have been described as such, as This Author suspects you have,  continue reading. If not, continue reading nevertheless; one would benefit from learning a point of view that contrasts one’s own.
Penelope Featherington is madly enamored with her best friend’s older brother. She is not alone in this infatuation, but rather a bystander of Colin Bridgerton’s inescapable charm. Blessed with the familial good looks and a smile that blings under the right lighting, it is difficult to not swoon over him — This Author excluded — even when the sentiment is not returned. For over a decade, Colin Bridgerton did not think of Penelope as anything more than a friend. He rarely thought about her at all it seemed, because regardless of his redeeming qualities, he was still a blind-headed buffoon — but that is just one author’s opinion. 
 Choosing favorites is a fool’s endeavor, yet This Author must admit a certain predilection for this particular couple. Perhaps it was the character development they both underwent in order to fall in love — the voice regained and the purpose found that made a certain someone tear up while reading — that made this plain-spoken review column transform into a sterling recommendation. Even so, This Author is but a humble writer that possesses no extraordinary omniscient abilities. There is no telling how the screen adaptation will capture the exquisite romance and chemistry between Colin and Penelope — or Polin, as the enthusiasts have labeled them — but come December this question shall be answered. Until then, in the words of my muse, Lady Whistledown, from whom I’ve drawn my name, “I bid you au revoir, London! It has been a pleasure to serve you.”
 

Lady Warblenether’s Bridgerton Papers,

4 July 2023