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Chapter Text

Penelope Featherington could not recall ever feeling quite so hopeful about returning to London as the carriage rumbled along the cobbled streets of Mayfair. Indeed, normally she dreaded leaving the family’s country estate to waste away months of her life with the rest of the ton, hovering awkwardly in the corners of grand ballrooms, always completely unnoticed.

But not anymore.

Penelope exhaled deeply as she leaned her head out of the open carriage window and smiled. It was a gloriously sunny day, which she took to be a good sign for this year’s upcoming social season.

This year had to be it. This was her year. Of that, she was absolutely determined.

The heart of London’s most prestigious district was already thrumming with life as the most esteemed members of the ton returned to the city, whereby row upon row of stately townhouses stood proudly and bustled with activity as servants prepared for the imminent flood of social engagements. Grand carriages began to arrive in a stately procession, heralding the return of high society to the capital for another glittering season.

It was a relief when Penelope and her mother finally reached their house in the centre of Grosvenor Square, perhaps the most respected neighbourhood amidst the urban sprawl. Penelope stepped down from the carriage, dressed in a bright green, frilly gown embellished with floral broaches.

Mrs. Varley, their trusted housekeeper who had been awaiting their arrival with the rest of the household staff on the entrance steps, smiled at her warmly in greeting. Penelope smiled back as her mother followed her out of the carriage and onto the pavement, and then glanced around.

The square was alive with nobles strolling along, dressed in their finest and deep in excited conversation about the latest on-dit that would define this season’s intrigues, while a familiar delivery boy darted through the street, distributing a certain pamphlet containing the latest news and gossip. Penelope’s lips curved upward in satisfaction.

Her mother, Portia, smiled at Mrs. Varley and held her arms out enthusiastically. ‘It’s good to be home,’ she said in a bracing, almost triumphant tone of voice.

Distracted, Penelope watched as members of the ton walked past them along the square, utterly engrossed in the latest issue of Lady Whistledown, which she had taken pains to ensure would be released this very morning. Everyone looked delighted by the content of today’s edition.

Penelope couldn’t help a small, rather proud beam falling on her face as she admired her handiwork. ‘It certainly is,’ she said.

Penelope was a young lady of petite stature and soft curves, with a figure fuller and more rounded compared to the willowy silhouettes favoured by society. She had a cascade of fiery red curly hair, styled in intricate ringlets and adorned with vibrant ribbons and elaborate accessories. She was almost twenty years of age, and yet looked younger due to the glowing, clear complexion of her porcelain skin and soft roundness of her rosy cheeks. She had large, expressive blue eye that sparkled with curiosity, warmth and intelligence, and lips a soft shade of pink that were often curved in a shy but genuine smile. Her wardrobe, meticulously chosen by her overbearing mother renowned for her quite atrocious taste in fashion, consisted entirely of bright, bold colours – mainly yellow, unfortunately – and extravagant patterns. Despite the garish ensembles, it was common knowledge that Penelope Featherington was one of the least flamboyant or attention-hungry members of the ton.

Portia looked around at her youngest daughter, a perplexed frown on her face. ‘What are you looking so pleased about?’ she asked, as their footmen, in their green-liveried splendour, stepped forward to unload their trunks and cases from the carriage.

‘N-nothing,’ Penelope said at once, swallowing. ‘I just…it is good to be back, that is all.’

Portia raised her heavily pencilled eyebrows. ‘I must say, I am surprised you agree. It’s not like you have any reason to call at Bridgerton House anymore.’

Penelope’s smile instantly slid from her face as Portia turned away. The fact that the breakdown of her and Eloise’s friendship had not escaped her neglectful mother’s notice somehow made the pain of it even worse.

‘Yes,’ Penelope said in a rather cold, detached voice as she followed her mother towards the steps of the house. ‘Thank you, Mama.’

At this, Portia spun back around to face her, looking alarmed. ‘What did you just say?’ she snapped.

‘Nothing,’ Penelope replied hastily, resorting to her high-pitched, innocent voice as she glanced at her mother. ‘Nothing at all.’

Portia was right, of course. Spending her time in the house across the square had often been the only element of the social season that Penelope enjoyed, but she had no reason to pay a visit to Bridgerton House again.

There was no one there for her now. No one.

The rest of the day was spent settling back into their London abode and preparing, both mentally and practically, for the many grand events coming up. The next few months would consist of a tightly choreographed series of events including opulent balls, lavish dinner parties, elegant soirées, opera performances, art exhibitions, theatre productions, music concerts, boxing matches, card games, and horse races. It was a time for frivolity and extravagance, where fortunes, allegiances and reputations could be sealed or shattered by a single gesture, dance or whisper, and all members of the ton were filled with giddy anticipation for it.

The next day, Portia was keen for the Featherington family to be seen out in public, for the start of this season marked their triumphant return to good society. Their family’s fortunes had, remarkably, taken a somewhat upward turn since their swindling cousin Jack had absconded and their Aunt Petunia had died; according to Portia, they had inherited enough money to start anew, after the financial troubles they had experienced all courtesy of Penelope’s late father. So, Portia was quick to show off that they now once again had the money to afford certain luxuries, by securing more staff, shopping at the markets for new furnishings for the house, and paying a visit to the Modiste to purchase new gowns for the season.

Not that she was much fussed about acquiring new attire for Penelope now; this was Penelope’s third season out, after all, and everyone in the ton knew that young ladies who were still unmarried by their third season were practically already on the shelf.

Nevertheless, Penelope tried not to be too disheartened by this unfortunate attitude. She was not yet an old maid, she was a woman of reasonable intellect and humour, and not all hope was yet lost. Previously, she had been quite comfortable staying on the sidelines avoiding all the gentlemen with Eloise, as it was all she had ever known, but now that she had no friend to keep her company on those sidelines, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be there anymore. Instead, the romantic in her wanted to take to the floor and perhaps give herself an actual chance at finding a suitor. She wasn’t sure how on earth she was going to actually achieve that, particularly with her awkward demeanour and when dressed in such hideous, garish gowns, but more impossible things had happened, surely?

Besides, even if she did feel somewhat wary about her difficult – and quite frankly terrifying – goal for this season, there was at least one element of her life that she did have control of and could ensure was a success. Business with Lady Whistledown was booming, and this time, Penelope was determined to do things differently. Less ruining lives and relationships with scandal, more highlighting people’s accomplishments and encouraging those new debutantes who needed it to shine their light this season. More positivity. That was what everyone needed in life after all, wasn’t it? And Penelope wanted nothing more than to put right all the wrongs she had caused in her previous issues from the past two years.

Not even Lady Whistledown, however, could distract Penelope enough from her rather dismal state of affairs when it came to the limited company she was currently keeping. Now that they were all back in London, the whole family were back together, and it was, in all honesty, extremely taxing. Her sisters, now both married, were being more tedious than ever, her mother just as irritating. At least they left her alone a lot more, given they had other more important matters to deal with now they had husbands, but her family’s presence was somehow more vexing than ever, particularly with two harmless but annoying brothers-in-law added to the fray.

She had a new maid, Rae, who Penelope liked very much, but it was rather sad that, after the events of the ball they had hosted last season, it was only Rae and Madame Delacroix, the owner of the Modiste and Penelope’s secret business partner, who could now be considered Penelope’s only friends. Colin was away on yet more travels abroad – which Penelope knew deep down was for the best – and Eloise had made it clear in their last interaction that she never wanted to see or speak to Penelope ever again.

Then again… perhaps the break between seasons had allowed things to cool down. Penelope had spent many months dwelling over what she – or rather, Lady Whistledown – had done to Eloise and how she could make amends; perhaps Eloise had spent that time thinking it over as well, and come to realise that Penelope had been acting with her best interests at heart, even if the way she had gone about it had been somewhat…misguided. Perhaps there was a chance that all could be forgiven and they could resume their friendship. Penelope had missed Eloise terribly this summer, after all.

Eloise wasn’t the only Bridgerton she had missed, but Penelope did not want to dwell on that as well. What would be the point?

On the day of the debutantes’ presentation to the Queen at court, Penelope found herself sat in the drawing room gazing out longingly across the square at Bridgerton House, as she so often did. She hadn’t seen the Bridgertons arrive back in London, but, then again, she had mostly been avoiding looking their way since she and her mother had returned. She knew they would be in residence by now anyway, for it was Francesca’s debut today.

Curiosity, and perhaps a little glimmer of hope and desperation, got the better of Penelope in the end, for she soon found herself making an excuse to her mother to venture out into Grosvenor Square for ‘some fresh air’ before this afternoon’s garden soirée at the Livingston Estate. Rae, her maid, accompanied her outside as a chaperone, though remained far behind as Penelope tentatively began a slow walk across the square in the direction of Bridgerton House; she seemed to know that Penelope needed to be alone in this moment.

The square was buzzling with activity as members of the ton resumed their metropolitan lives and prepared for today’s important occasion at court. Horses and carriages clattered by, esteemed gentlemen and ladies mingled and promenaded, and bees flitted lazily between the flowerbeds and lavender bushes that bordered the centre of the square.

Just ahead stood the majestic Bridgerton House, a beautiful mansion exuding a stately grandeur that commanded the admiration of all who passed by – though perhaps that was simply because everyone knew whose family it belonged to. The house had a smart pillared entrance and elegant wrought-iron gates that opened upon a meticulously kept gravel drive, but it was most notable for its curtain of luscious ivy and purple wisteria that tumbled gracefully over its red-bricked façade.

Penelope felt an ache within the depths of her soul as she gazed across; she loved that house. It had been her second home for so many years. In fact, she had felt more comfortable calling Bridgerton House home than her own family residence. She had learnt that home wasn’t a place, after all, it was a feeling.

Feeling a little awkward, she lingered outside, waiting for the inevitable moment when the Bridgertons would emerge. She cautiously wandered behind some tall trees and bushes in the centre of the square, trying to keep out of sight – not that she had to put much effort into that. Even with such glaringly bright dresses and hair, Penelope always seemed to merge into the background.

She had noticed that, a few houses down, a group of giggling ladies was crowding around a tall man with a long dark coat, clearly besotted. Penelope couldn’t see his face, nor did she care to discover who this new handsome bachelor arrived just in time to woo the ladies of the ton could be; she was too focussed on trying to catch a glimpse of Eloise.

And then, just like that, the front door to Bridgerton House opened, and out they came.

Penelope’s heart skipped a beat. They all looked so perfect and joyous as always. The Duchess of Hastings, Daphne, did not appear to be there with them on this occasion, but Viscount Anthony Bridgerton’s wife, Kate, the new Viscountess, was, and she looked like she had always been meant to be among such a wonderful family as she walked alongside her attentive husband, their hands clutched tightly together.

Penelope watched with parted lips and sad eyes as Eloise headed down the steps while bantering with an animated Benedict. So many times before, Eloise and Penelope had waved cheerfully to one another from outside their houses, but today Eloise did not even look up. Penelope could not blame her. She was surprised, if not a little confused, to see that Eloise looked quite different, as she was dressed in more frills and ribbons than usual. She had never known Eloise to be one to be influenced by the latest fashionable trends.

Feeling suddenly rather wary, Penelope took a step to her right in the hope that the leaves from the bush would obscure her more. She wasn’t sure if she was quite ready to see Eloise’s expression turn from happy to absolutely murderous at the mere sight of her former friend watching them from across the square.

Finding it too crushing to keep her eyes on Eloise too long, Penelope then turned her attention to the remaining members of the family. Lady Violet Bridgerton, the Dowager, looked both stressed and elegant, as she often did whenever she was about to present one of her daughters to the Queen. Francesca looked radiant in her debutantes’ gown and feather, albeit slightly nervous. Hyacinth and Gregory had both grown considerably, and were squinting their eyes in the direction of the crowd of giggling young ladies further down the road, clearly curious to know who this new mysterious gentleman was that everyone was fussing about.

Penelope frowned, confused, as she watched all the Bridgertons then gawk and exclaim in surprise as the gentleman in question began to approach them. She followed their bemused gazes and her mouth fell open.

The handsome, charming stranger who those ladies who had been fawning all over – it was Colin.

It felt like she had taken a knife to the chest.

‘Are you mad? I would never dream of courting Penelope Featherington. Not in your wildest fantasies, Fife.’

Penelope knew those words would forever be imprinted on the splintered remains of her heart as vividly as the day they had been spoken, no matter how hard she tried to forget them.

Right now, though, she was too stunned by Colin’s new appearance to focus too much on his cruel comments from the Featherington Ball at the end of last season. He was almost completely unrecognisable, from his clothes to the very way in which he held himself.

Colin wore a long, weathered brown trench coat, dusty and worn from his travels, over a dark navy-blue chambray shirt unbuttoned to his collarbone – hardly fitting for good society – with dark denim pantaloons, a belt, and knee-high riding boots. His dark brown hair was also styled differently; it was kissed by the sun and tousled in thick, luscious waves. He had always looked so prim and proper before, with his baby blue waistcoats, ruffled cravats and tight neckties, but now he had shed his sweet, boyish look in favour of a more rugged, modern transformation. It was rather alarming, to see how much a new look could change a person.

Penelope watched, feeling both perplexed and devastated in equal measure, as Colin swaggered over to his family. He had a huge grin on his face, clearly pleased that his flirtatious display with the group of ladies nearby had been witnessed by his nearest and dearest. Penelope was transfixed, but not in a good way; the sight of that smug expression, not to mention the different way in which he walked, with such confidence and aplomb, made her feel almost nauseous.

That’s not Colin, she thought.

He had now stopped by his family to greet them on the driveway outside their house, and though she could not hear him or see him up close, even from this distance Penelope could tell that he seemed so…different. So suave and confident – quite possibly even arrogant. Where was the sweet boy she knew?

Colin was now holding out his arms for a hug; Hyacinth rushed forward to embrace him at once.

Her heart racing, Penelope emerged from behind the bush and took a step forward instinctively as she witnessed the touching reunion. They were all laughing and hugging. They all looked so wonderfully close. It was no wonder they were considered the happiest family in the entire ton. Penelope wondered if any of them knew how truly lucky they were, to have siblings and a mother like the ones they had.

She began to blink rapidly and felt her heart sink as Eloise and Colin then wrapped their arms around one another in a warm hug. There they were, the two most important people in her life, embracing…two people whom she had never felt more far distant from.

To Penelope’s alarm, Colin then turned around in her direction to glance across the street. She wondered for one mad second if he was turning to her family’s house in the hope of catching sight of her. She thought that he briefly locked eyes with her, but whether he did properly see her against the glare of the sun or not, it clearly didn’t matter to him, for he soon turned quickly away again to focus on more important things.

Penelope dropped her gaze at once, feeling a little shaken. She had been forced to come to terms with the fact that Colin mustn’t think highly of her, but to ignore her like that? What had she done to deserve such treatment?

On the other hand, what had he done to deserve a single place in her mind and heart? Her thoughts were wasted on that man now.

She looked down, exasperated with herself, and a hint of a bitter smile appeared briefly on her lips. She was so stupid and childish for hoping that things would have turned out any differently. What had she been expecting? That both Colin and Eloise would come running over to her declaring their overwhelming love and need for her company? No, of course not. She held not a single place in either of their thoughts.

Devastated, Penelope slowly began to back away. She had known that this day would come and that it would be painful, but she hadn’t realised just how painful – and she had certainly not been prepared to see Colin home so soon. She had assumed that he would be away travelling for a great many months still, in the hope that that would allow more time for her heart to repair itself. How wrong she had been.

She raised her eyes upwards and exhaled shakily. Obviously, Colin had not been thinking about Penelope while he had been away on his travels, or looking forward to seeing her on his return. Any why would he? What sort of mad, pathetic fool was she to even hope for such a thing? She knew now the truth of Colin’s regard towards her. He saw her as nothing but a joke with whom he had formed a friendship out of mere pity because he was kind and felt sorry for her, and there was nothing more to it than that.

For years, she had gone about life pretending that whenever she lost her way, she knew that she could open her eyes and rely on Colin being right there beside her, that there was still hope for the two of them to be everything she had always dreamed of since childhood.

But she was wrong, and this summer she had been forced to finally wake up to reality.

‘Miss? Are you well?’

Penelope jumped and turned around; she had quite forgotten that Rae had been out here as well, accompanying her. Rae was eyeing her with a sympathetic look on her face. Although Rae was still relatively new to the Featherington household, she had picked up on enough already to know a little of what Penelope was currently feeling.

Penelope forced a polite smile. ‘I am fine. Thank you, Rae, I just…I was not expecting him to be back. Colin. Mr. Bridgerton, that is,’ she corrected herself, her voice wavering.

It was rather shattering, to have one’s hopeful optimism for the season diminished in an instant. While out in the country, Penelope had been able to try to forget what had happened here in Mayfair on that awful night at the ball. She had been able to pretend it was all just a bad dream. But now they were back, and she was forced to confront the reality that she was all on her own. Eloise despised her for her unforgiveable actions, and there was nothing more to be said on the matter. Colin’s world would keep on turning perfectly, whether Penelope was in it or not, with a life filled with happiness and love and warmth unlike anything she had ever known.

He was never going to return her feelings. She had to accept that. What made it easier to accept such a tragic blow was that his words from last season’s ball had cut her deeper than a knife. She could never forget it. She didn’t think she could ever forgive it either.

Swallowing, Penelope then turned her back firmly on Colin. ‘Come,’ she said to Rae, ‘let us return to the house.’

Penelope then decisively led the way back to Featherington House, away from the Bridgertons; Rae followed with a concerned frown on her kind face.

***

Across the street, Colin Bridgerton was feeling quite elated by the genuine joy his family seemed to be feeling upon his surprise arrival.

A man of two-and-twenty, Colin was a remarkably tall man, with an athletic yet lean build. He had sun-kissed skin of a tawny beige and dark brown hair that was tousled in a carefree yet stylish manner, only further enhancing his handsome appearance. His warm eyes were a striking dark shade of blue, framed by a set of strong, dark eyebrows, and he had a boyishly charming smile that lit up his entire face. His attire was impeccably tailored and reflected his family’s high standing, the bolder colours and more modern cuts of his new clothes evident that he truly was much matured and a gentleman on the brink of full adulthood – he sincerely hoped his family would see it that way, anyway.

His mother and siblings hadn’t been expecting him to return to England for some days yet, but Colin had been determined to make it in time for Francesca’s presentation to the Queen.

Francesca was not the only one who he had been so eager to see today, though.

Colin turned back around to face the centre of the square, where he had seen Penelope stood moments before, but to his disappointment he saw that she had disappeared. His smile fell slightly. She must have returned to her house.

He had noticed her stood watching them while hiding slightly behind a bush when he had been in the middle of greeting his family. He hadn’t really known how to react when he had seen her, as his siblings had been taking up so much of his attention. The fact that Penelope had been trying to hide from view had been a little odd as well, and he had wanted to save her the embarrassment of acknowledging her watching them in front of his entire family. But now he suddenly wished he had said something and called her over to join them. He wanted very much to speak to his old friend, and had spent these past few days on the ship looking forward, somewhat apprehensively, to their reunion.

‘Brother? Is everything all right?’ Gregory asked, approaching from behind.

‘Yes, I just wanted to say hello to…’ But Colin trailed off as he gazed across the square at the closed door of Featherington House, a crease appearing between his dark brows. ‘Never mind.’

He was a little confused; thinking back, Penelope had had quite a strange expression on her face when he had briefly met her gaze across the square a few moments ago. She had looked confused, even upset.

But that wasn’t what troubled him the most.

Penelope hadn’t acknowledged or responded to a single one of his letters while he had been abroad over the summer, which was most unlike her. Colin just couldn’t fathom it. When he had been away previously, Penelope had always written the most vivid and thoughtful replies without fail, sounding more interested in his tales than anyone else. She was the one person he had been able to count on for a response, whenever he had travelled. Alas, his many letters to her had gone unanswered this year. He was used to his siblings not replying, but not Penelope. It had made him feel quite lonely. What could be her reasoning? What could have changed?

His mother’s voice then grew louder amongst the excited babble of their large family, breaking Colin’s reverie. ‘We must make haste, or we shall be late. Come, now!’ Violet said, as the footmen brought the carriages around. ‘All of you!’

‘But I need to change-’ Colin began, but Violet interrupted him.

‘There is no time for that, you shall need to change in your carriage. Make haste!’

Colin sighed deeply as he turned once more to Featherington House, his new confident persona momentarily on pause as he frowned, deep in thought. He wasn’t sure what was going on with Penelope – in truth, it was something he had been worrying about for the past couple of months – but now was not the right time to try and approach it. They needed a conversation, ideally in private so that he could try to ascertain if there was a problem, and he was certainly not going to get any privacy now on a day like today with all his family surrounding him.

‘Colin!’

‘Coming, Mother, I am coming,’ Colin said exasperatedly, chuckling.

He turned away from Featherington House and followed his brothers towards their carriage. As they went, he paused and noticed that the delightful young ladies he had encountered earlier were still lingering on the pavement; the moment he looked over, they all giggled and began waving their fans dramatically.

Benedict had a huge, amused grin on his face. ‘I take it you enjoyed your time away, then?’ he said, clapping his brother on the shoulder.

Colin felt his cheeks begin to redden. ‘I did,’ he said, rather pleased with himself. ‘It was most…enlightening.’

Anthony raised his eyebrows as he eyed Colin’s admirers in surprise. ‘Clearly.’

It was true; Colin had had quite the education during his travels over these past few months. After he had returned from his tour of Greece last year, he had been dismayed to realise that he had still not quite been able to let go of what had happened the previous season with his former fiancé, Marina Thompson - or rather, Lady Crane. He had been searching for his purpose at the time, and thought she had been the answer. It no longer brought him to pain to realise how wrong he had been, which he found most reassuring. Despite coming to accept this, Colin had still felt rather discontented in himself and his place in the world; it did not help that he had been comparing himself against his older brothers, a Viscount and a talented artist, both of whom were very handsome and very experienced with the ladies. They were exceptionally interesting and charming, of which he was neither. He did not stand out; the ton only knew him for his weak, soft-hearted nature. So, he had run away to the continent in the hopes of discovering himself and to enter a world where he was not the third, dull son of the esteemed Bridgerton family.

At first, he had felt rather lonely on his excursions around Europe, and the excitement of travel had waned; his closest friend not caring enough to respond to his many letters had not helped with matters there. He had always been insecure, and he knew he had always rambled on and bored his family with details of his trips – his siblings had frequently mocked him for it, after all, even treating him like a child at times – but to think that he was now even boring Penelope with his correspondence had been a rough awakening. Unlike everyone else, she had always cared about his stories, taken him seriously, genuinely listened, given him an outlet for his true self to shine, and kept him grounded…but this time he had been met with nothing but silence from her, and it had unmoored him. So, to mask the hurt, he had decided to try something new.

And that was where he had met the Contessa, an older Italian woman who had taken him under her wing and taught him everything he needed to know on how to pleasure and satisfy a woman. He had never experienced sexual relations before, and after meeting the Contessa, suddenly Colin had understood just why his brothers and friends had been relentlessly encouraging him to sow his wild oats for the past few years. By the time Colin had journeyed onwards to France, the last stop on his trip, he was thoroughly practiced in his newly-discovered ‘activities’, and enthusiastic to charm the masses and show off his new talents. The new Colin had arrived at last, for which he was immensely grateful – he had been getting rather fed up of the sweet, boring boy he used to be. Now, at least, he could finally call himself a man.

It was daunting to return to his home and loved ones as this new person, but Colin felt all the better for it. He had his armour on now. He had adopted a new way of life, and a new way of thinking. He was now thoroughly learned in the art of flirtation, drinking and debauchery, and as such would fit in with the other men of the ton, which was all he had really wanted.

The fact that Anthony asked, ‘Who are you and what have you done with our brother?’ as they journeyed on to court for Francesca’s presentation made Colin feel rather smug; he was clearly doing a better job at this than he’d thought he would. 

And yet the fact that Penelope had walked away from them in the square earlier was still eating at him. Something was not quite right. He wasn’t sure what, but he was confident he would be able to get to the bottom of it as soon as he spoke with her, and all would be well and back to normal soon enough.

It was Penelope, after all. In what world would she ever not want to see him?

Chapter Text

It was later in the afternoon, and the Bridgertons had finally returned from the palace after Francesca’s presentation to the Queen. It had been a rather long, tedious ceremony, not made any better by the Queen’s obvious boredom at the festivities. Colin was quite sad that Daphne had not been able to attend this year – she and her husband, Simon, were too occupied with business and parenting at their estate, Clyvedon – as he had always felt closest to Daphne out of all his siblings. Although, in some ways, he was quite glad that she was not here to witness this different version of himself that he was presenting to the world; Daphne would not have remotely bought it.

Colin was still exhausted from his journey along the heavy seas back from France, and quite drained from the show he had been putting on since the moment he had arrived back in Mayfair this morning; deep down, there was nothing he wanted more than to relax in his study or bedchamber back at the house. Nevertheless, he knew he must continue with his efforts – today, the first proper day of the social season, was crucial in setting everyone a new impression of the much-improved Colin Bridgerton.

The Livingston family were hosting a garden soirée at their estate to celebrate the new debutantes, and Violet was eager to ensure that everyone in their family attended. Anthony had an overflowing pile of paperwork from the estate to attend to, but promised to join them later; in his temporary absence, Colin eagerly took the lead as he, his mother and siblings ventured out towards the highly anticipated gathering.

In front of the Livingston’s grand brick house lay the manicured lawns and vibrant flowerbeds of their enchanting garden, bathed in the warm, golden light of the afternoon sun. Colin came to a halt by the front gates as he surveyed the scene before them, his hands fidgeting agitatedly.

A string quartet was playing gently in the corner, adding an air of refined elegance to the occasion, while guests played lawn games and enjoyed refreshments by tables adorned with porcelain tea sets, crystal glasses of chilled lemonade, and towering displays of pastries, fruits, sandwiches and tarts. The grand marquee where Queen Charlotte was meant to be present was noticeably vacant, which did not exactly bode well for the eager, calculating mamas desperate to acquire the royal favour of the Queen for their daughters. Gentlemen in their finest tailcoats and cravats were engaged in animated discussions about the upcoming social calendar and the latest political developments from Parliament, while excitable young ladies in their stunning gowns gathered in the hope of catching the eye of a respectable, dashing suitor.

This, Colin decided, was where he would start.

He held his head up high and braced himself, as if preparing to go on stage, and then strode into the garden along with the rest of his family.

And then the performance began.

Within minutes, Colin found himself surrounded by young ladies…all of whom were rather direct in their newfound fascination with the third Bridgeton son.

‘Do you find yourself back in town for any particular reason? In search of something? Or…someone?’ Miss Goring asked, tilting her head suggestively at him.

‘If you are asking if I came back to take a wife this season, I’m afraid the answer may disappoint,’ Colin replied, wiping Miss Goring’s smile instantly from her face. ‘Although…if there is one thing I learned on my travels, it is forever to expect the unexpected.’

The ladies all laughed rather breathlessly at once and began fluttering their fans, as if overcome. Colin smiled, pleased that this was going rather well.

It wasn’t really him, he knew that. But it was what a man was supposed to be.

He glanced over their shoulders while his admirers exchanged giddy smiles; he’d been keeping an eye out for a hint of yellow or red hair since the moment he had entered the Livingston garden, and yet there was still no sign of the Featherington family anywhere – or so he thought.

The moment his head was turned by another suggestive question from one of the simpering ladies circled around him, the Featheringtons made their presence known with their outlandish, vibrant outfits as they strolled boldly into the garden. Portia led the way as always, followed by Philippa and Prudence, each on their husband’s arms. Penelope, dressed in a lemon-yellow cap-sleeved gown with a pink floral overlay, felt like a moody, petulant teenager as she trailed after them all. She really did not want to be here. She would be so much more content sat by her window reading a good book.

Her feet then ground to a halt as she caught sight of Colin stood in the distance, surrounded by a collection of young, pretty debutantes – she couldn’t count how many. They were all laughing at something amusing he had said. It seemed that, from the moment Colin had stepped foot on English shores, all the young ladies of high society had been flocking to him like birds, desperate just to be near to him. Penelope couldn’t blame them; she had felt just the same way for years. A part of her still did, despite everything. But it was strange to see him be swarmed by so many eager, smitten ladies, when he had never really attracted much of that sort of notice before. Yes, he was a Bridgerton, a name that carried a great deal of weight – and wealth – so he had always been seen as a catch, but as the untitled third son, mamas hadn’t pushed their daughters on him as much, and as someone known for his sweet nature and gentle disposition, people just hadn’t found him that interesting. 

But now he seemed to be playful and oh-so-charming, with a new dashing look; what more could the young ladies of the ton want?

Penelope could feel a hint of a smile threatening to play at the edge of her lips as she watched Colin converse with them all; he looked so handsome. It was about time the rest of the world saw it. But then her smile disappeared as quickly as it had come, and she felt her open mouth begin to wobble, as if she were fighting back tears. How infuriating it was, that he had the power to have such an effect on her emotions, even after all this time she’d had to try to recover from her heartbreak.

Trying to control her expression, Penelope blinked rapidly, tightened her lips, and forced herself to turn away from him.

And then she came face to face with Eloise.

A flicker of hope crossed Penelope’s face. She had hidden away from the Bridgertons and the rest of society while in the country over the summer, knowing that Eloise had not wished to see her. But now that they were both in London once again, she wanted nothing more than to apologise and implore Eloise to try and understand that she had done what she had done in a misjudged attempt to protect her.

She should have known better.

If Penelope had felt miserable before setting off for this garden soirée, it was nothing compared to how she felt when she then discovered Eloise’s new friend. Watching Eloise ignore her only to then stroll off arm-in-arm with Penelope’s bully, Cressida Cowper, was like being trampled on by a herd of angry elephants. Had time spent in the countryside really changed Eloise so much that she would forgo all her principles and morals? Of all the people she could have chosen to befriend after Penelope’s betrayal, was Cressida really the best choice?

Penelope couldn’t understand it. She felt overcome by an urge to laugh and cry at the same time.

Can this day get any worse?

It was not long afterwards when she found herself hovering near a group of smiling young women, who were laughing rather excessively at some remarks a flirtatious gentleman was making.

‘My travels? I cannot begin to share my travel adventures with you. If I did, you would swoon,’ the man was saying, to much giggling. ‘And we cannot have that.’

It took a while for Penelope to recognise the voice of the man speaking, though it was certainly not his natural one. When she turned to see that it was Colin, she almost stumbled backwards in shock. Since when did Colin flirt like that? It was so…unnatural. Uncomfortable, even.

Shaking her head in despair, Penelope trudged away, but couldn’t help glancing back in fascination; Colin was already moving on to the next group of eager young admirers vying for his attention. Clearly, he was making the rounds.

Penelope raised her eyebrows, utterly perplexed. Well, Colin certainly seemed to have been busy while he had been away. He had disappeared for merely a few months and come back a completely different person. He looked smug and confident, with his chest puffed out, and a charming smile and a playful gleam in his eyes. He had clearly been working on himself, believed himself to be a better man now, and looked all the happier for it.

Good for him, Penelope thought bitterly.

He was getting everything all noble men in the ton wanted – attention, popularity and a reputation for talent with the ladies – and as such he no longer needed friends like Penelope; he wouldn’t care to, anyway. He had probably never cared for her friendship in the first place, he had just gone along with it.

Meanwhile, Penelope had done nothing all over summer other than lose her mind and spend endless nights crying over losing the love of her life and her best friend all in one go.

She was not particularly fond of this new side of Colin. She had never known of its existence; perhaps it had always been there, hiding away and just waiting for the right moment to make itself known, or perhaps he had only just discovered it – or, what she thought most likely, forced it upon himself. And yet, even still, Penelope could not help herself looking for him in the crowd, hoping he might notice her, wishing deep down that he would seek her out as he always used to. Her heart had fallen far too deep for her to ever stop those thoughts, even when she was so convinced that everything he had ever said to her throughout their friendship had been a lie – well, everything apart from his comment to Lord Fife about her at the end of last season’s ball. That was the one true thing he had said about what he really thought of her. 

While Penelope hovered awkwardly in the corner of the garden, alone and despondent, Colin continued with his procession amongst the ton’s finest beauties of the season.

‘How is it possible your dance cards for the season are not yet full of suitors?’ he said, to much appreciative giggling, as he eyed each lady in turn. ‘You are flowers in bloom. Each one of you.’

He was putting on a show, but what a show it was – and each act grew more fun as he continued to mingle.

‘My stories from abroad are not suitable for such tender young ladies. Were I to tell you even the tiniest adventure, well…I would be forced to marry you,’ Colin said, with a sly grin, and he was satisfied to see that one lady was so scandalised that she had to cover her laughter with her hand.

It was refreshing, and did much to his self-esteem, to see so many ladies immediately stop their conversations and turn their full attention to him whenever he sauntered in their direction.

‘Such an array of beautiful ladies,’ he greeted them smoothly. ‘Men will be fighting over you. I cannot compete.’

All it took was a rakish grin and a few flirtatious wiles and lines he had picked up from his travels, and they were simpering and swooning as if they had never experienced a compliment from a gentleman before. It was astounding, really, just how easy it was.

Colin knew that if he were to step outside his own body, stopped and truly listened to what he was saying or watched how he was acting, he would flinch and shake his shoulders roughly, screaming at himself to stop this madness. But he couldn’t stop it, not now. He was enjoying all this new attention too much.

He understood that it was mainly his Bridgerton name that drew the ladies to him – he was no fool, after all – but he also knew that his new clothes, hair, charisma and flirtatious charm went a long way in helping him as well. Everything he had been determined to do and everything he had planned on how to be on his return…it was all working. As he had told his brothers earlier, his time away travelling over the summer had been exactly what he had needed. He was a changed man now. A new man. And everyone seemed to think better of him for it. That had to be worth a little unease and discomfort, did it not?

Colin was about to direct his attention towards yet another group of debutantes who were eyeing him playfully, when he then caught a glimpse of red hair in his peripheral vision. He turned at once and felt a surge of warmth spread through him at the sight of his closest friend stood by some topiaries not too far away. Her hair was still a remarkable confection of curls and ringlets, her dress just as blindingly colourful and extravagant; it was comforting to see such a familiar sight, to know that not everything in his life had changed.

He immediately began to walk towards her, glad that he had finally found her amongst all the guests here today. He was eager to speak with her, and yet also somewhat nervous after not hearing from her all summer, and kept running a hand through his hair subconsciously as he approached.

Penelope was not aware of her incoming visitor; she was preoccupied watching her family and brothers-in-law huddled together as they tried to evade interrogations from the Cowpers. It looked like her mother was already eager to leave. She couldn’t really blame her; it was a dull affair, and Penelope was probably having the worst time out of everyone. Not one person had approached her to speak with her, and of course, why would they? Without Eloise or Colin at her side, everyone here saw her for who she was: a lonely spinster with nothing to contribute to the ton.

Well, nothing aside from Lady Whistledown, of course. If only they knew.

Colin drew near to her, though she did notice, for she seemed far away in her own world. He knew how much her mother frequently chastised her for daydreaming, but Colin had always liked that about Penelope; he found it endearing.

‘Pen!’ Colin said brightly, as he arrived before her, and he nodded politely. ‘It is good to see you.’

Alarmed by his sudden arrival, Penelope’s face fell, her eyebrows scrunching up in a frown as she avoided his kind gaze. ‘Is it?’ she said sceptically, looking down at the ground.

How could it be good to see her, when he laughed at the preposterous idea of courting her? She did not wish to bring up his comments and throw them in his face, but it was hard to resist the urge. His words that night had made her question every little moment, every minuscule exchange between them. Had their friendship all been in her imagination? Or worse – had it been out of pity, as she had been fearing these past few months?

Colin seemed utterly oblivious to her discomfort. ‘Truly. It has felt like I have been absent years instead of months,’ he said, smiling that charming smile as he stood with a confident stance before her.

‘Much has certainly changed in that time,’ Penelope said in a low, detached voice.

She still couldn’t meet his eyes.

Colin could not see – or, rather, did not want to see – what was so obvious before him, just from her body language. ‘A good deal, I know,’ he said smugly, and he fidgeted with his fancy new coat, as if fishing for a compliment, ‘but it was all the rage in Paris.’

He looked so pleased with himself. It was unbearable.

Penelope forced a small, false smile on her face as she took in his new attire, as he so clearly wanted her to do. He wore a dark coat over an embroidered waistcoat; it was a very dashing ensemble, but it was not his clothes that stood out as much to Penelope. He seemed to have matured in his body and face; his body was leaner, his face less round and more angular, and he had more mature, subtle sideburns that accentuated his cheekbones and square jawline. He looked like a man now, not a boy. She suddenly felt rather envious; she had no doubt that she would forever be stuck looking like a little girl.

‘You look distinguished,’ she said, without any feeling, ‘but, then again, you always have.’

She meant it; he had always been enough. This new look of his was doing nothing but concealing the real him.

Colin smiled, though it didn’t quite meet his eyes; it was only just registering with him that Penelope didn’t seem herself. There was no warm, expressive gaze or bubbly joy from her at their reunion, no eagerness for him to elaborate on his experience in Paris. There was nothing.

But Colin did not want to pay heed to that now. He was probably just paranoid and over-thinking. Everything was surely fine between them. How could it not be? They were Colin and Pen.

‘Well, when all is said and done, it is merely clothing,’ Colin said, a slightly flirtatious tone to his voice as he tilted his head at Penelope. ‘Whereas elsewhere…things seem to have fundamentally changed. Am I mistaken, or was Eloise walking arm-in-arm with Cressida Cowper?’

It felt like a relief to lift the mask, if only for a few moments; he had missed gossiping in a corner with his best friend.

A sad smile appeared on Penelope’s face. It was taking her every effort to stop her eyes from welling up.

‘As you said, sometimes time moves rather quickly,’ she said, with a brief nod and glance in his direction.

She then turned and walked away, without so much as a smile or even a goodbye.

Colin frowned as he watched her go, confused. Not just confused – upset.

He had been hoping for a somewhat warmer reception from her than that, after they had been parted for so many months. Penelope was always happy to see and speak to him, it had been that way ever since childhood. Compared to the reception he had received from all the other ladies present today, Penelope had been extremely frosty indeed.

Something terrible must have happened. There was no other explanation for why she would act so distantly towards him. Had she even properly looked at him? Or cracked one of her adorable smiles when he spoke to her? Now that he thought about it, she had looked thoroughly miserable, even grumpy, for the whole duration of their all-too-brief conversation.

He wanted to reassure himself that he was simply being paranoid, but it wasn’t just today – all those unanswered letters from his travels still haunted his thoughts.

Penelope’s silence had left Colin feeling rather lost over the summer. He hadn’t realised until then just how much he had depended on hearing from someone so familiar and so close to him while he was away, even if it might be seen as a little peculiar, perhaps even inappropriate, to anyone outside their families. So, he had been forced to find other ways to quell his homesickness and longing for communication.

Yes, he had discovered women and the joy of intimate relations on his travels, there was certainly no denying that. But he had also discovered his need for regular correspondence with his beloved friend, and so, in the absence of Penelope’s usual replies, he had turned to writing a journal, detailing his adventures, every city, every romantic encounter, every new experience. And it had been joyous. Truly, his newfound passion for writing had been the main gift to come out of his time away this summer – but, of course, he could never admit that, not to anyone.

Instead, he had to embellish the truth and talk only of his meaningless sexual exploits, for in the eyes of most bachelors in the ton, nothing else mattered, and Colin was sick and tired of not being included amongst that group of men. He had always been overlooked and ignored, the dull, too-sweet, too-innocent third brother without a purpose or any charisma or confidence or anything of remote interest about him. So here he was, playing the part he had to play, to be the man he wanted to be seen as.

It was hard to keep up the charming act now though, when Penelope had been so blatantly dismissive towards him.

‘Brother,’ came a voice from nearby, and Colin, blinking rapidly, turned to see Anthony striding over to him. ‘Are you all right?’

Colin ignored the question. ‘You are here earlier than I expected,’ he noted.

‘Benedict did a splendid job of taking care of my affairs, I must say,’ Anthony said, smiling, and Colin nodded as he averted his gaze, trying not to feel a twinge of envy at his brothers for having such purpose. ‘There was surprisingly only a small amount to catch up on. Now, why the long face? Have the pack of wolves finally tired you out yet?’

Colin frowned at him, confused. ‘Wolves?’

Anthony raised his eyebrows. ‘Your new admirers,’ he said approvingly, as he gestured a group of ladies merely a few metres away, all twinkling their eyes in Colin’s direction. 

‘Oh,’ Colin said, forcing a chuckle as he bowed his head, embarrassed. ‘I… no.’

‘Then what is the matter?’ Anthony asked, his grin replaced by a look of concern.

‘Nothing, I…’ Colin said, almost irritably, but then he paused and realised that it was no use – he had to say what was on his mind. ‘Do you know if some trouble has befallen the Featherington family?’

‘Not that I am aware of,’ Anthony said, looking a little confused. ‘In fact, I am sure our mother mentioned they had inherited some money from a deceased relative, so they are in a much better situation than last season. Why do you ask?’

‘It is nothing, it’s just…Penelope seemed a little out of sorts when I spoke with her just now,’ Colin said, trying to appear nonchalant.

‘Ah. She and Eloise had a falling out, apparently,’ Anthony said, ‘Eloise still will not tell me why-’

‘B-but…even if that is the case, that is Eloise, not me,’ Colin said, almost indignant, and Anthony eyed him rather warily, surprised by the change in Colin’s tone of voice. ‘She was…rather cold with me, that is all. It’s very unlike her.’

His gaze drifted off. He hated this feeling of uncertainty. Was it all in his head? Or was he right, and was Penelope completely indifferent to him now? And if so, why?

Anthony sighed sympathetically and tilted his head at him; Colin had always been the most sensitive of all his siblings. ‘I would not concern yourself, Colin, I am sure it is nothing. Perhaps she’s just having a bad day. Now, go and enjoy yourself!’ he said, clapping him on the back with enthusiasm. ‘You’re the catch of the season! And I must return to my wife, I have been away from her for far too long.’

Colin frowned bemusedly as his brother began to walk away. ‘It has barely been an hour,’ he called after him.

Anthony simply grinned. ‘Precisely,’ he called back.

Colin smiled and shook his head exasperatedly as he watched Anthony hurry off to locate Kate. The wondrous change that had come over him since Kate had walked into his life was quite astronomical, it had to be said. Colin had never thought it possible for one person to make another so deliriously happy. He could only hope that he would be able to find even just half of what they had, someday.

***

On the outskirts of the Livingston estate, things only seemed to grow from bad to worse for Penelope as she left the garden soirée with her family moments after her rather stilted encounter with Colin.

It seemed that, before he had left back for the Americas, Cousin Jack had decreed that their family estate in Mayfair would belong to one of the Featherington daughters as soon as one of them produced an heir. As such, Prudence and Philippa were now squabbling over what each of them would do with the house once they were in charge – a prospect so horrendous, it made Penelope almost want to scream.

And then came the final blow from Portia, once Penelope’s two sisters had scuttled off to get to business with their endearing but rather clueless husbands.

‘I take comfort in knowing that you will always be here to take care of me,’ she said to Penelope, with what was clearly intended to be a warm, reassuring smile.

At this, Penelope shut her eyes as she felt her whole body deflate, and exhaled deeply. She truly could not imagine anything worse than such a fate.

Penelope could not sleep that night. She simply lay in bed deep in thought, tapping her mouth, tossing and turning, and unable to find any kind of solace to calm her racing mind. Her positive attitude that she been desperately clinging to when she had first arrived back in Mayfair had rapidly dissipated, it was safe to say.

Her dearest friend had cut her out of her life and found companionship with Penelope’s bully. The man she loved had broken her heart by laughing about her in front of countless others and then changed into a fundamentally different, much less likeable person. Her sisters were more unbearable than ever. Her mother was thoroughly convinced – and understandably so – that Penelope would remain stuck in Featherington House with her for the rest of her life. And her prospects had never looked more hopeless.

But what could she do about it?

Penelope just wasn’t suited for life in the ton at all; she simply wasn’t built that way, both in appearance and personality. She wasn’t prim enough, or proper enough, or even thin enough. She wasn’t conventionally beautiful or dazzlingly charming and charismatic. She was shy and awkward, never knowing what to say or do. No one ever saw behind the elaborate, bright yellow frocks that swamped her – Colin, least of all. The only dances she had ever had were with Colin, and those had only been because he had pitied her, and probably because she had been a last choice. She was nothing but an afterthought for everyone, and sometimes not even that.

She was invisible and unheard, and that was all she would ever be, so she needed to give up on her dreams of fairytales and romance and a better, happier future.

She needed to. But she did not want to.

‘I take comfort in knowing that you will always be here to take care of me.’

That had been the final straw for Penelope.

Before, she had been resolved to try and find a match for herself this season. But now? Now, she had never felt more committed to anything in her entire life.

Penelope then heaved herself out of bed and moved to her wardrobe. She flung the doors open and stared furiously at its contents. Piles of large gowns lay folded inside in various unflattering shades of yellow, orange and green. Though the dresses were intricate and well-designed – she could not fault Madame Delacroix on their quality, after all – their intense colours and garish embellishments made her stick out like a sore thumb in a haphazard splash of clashing colours and fancy florals. Why her mother thought they were in any way appealing or flattering, Penelope would never know or understand. But that didn’t matter anymore, because things were about to change.

She had lost the man she loved and her dearest friend, and not one single member of her family cared about her – except perhaps Albion, Philippa’s husband. And she had had enough. It was time she carved her own path. And for a new path, she needed a new…well, everything. A new attitude, a new outlook on life, perhaps even a new personality, and – most importantly – a new appearance. It seemed to be working well for Colin, given the reception he had been receiving from the ton since his return to London. Why couldn’t it work for her?

Penelope had never felt more fiercely determined. She was going to take charge of her own look for once.

No, that wasn’t enough.

She was going to take charge of her own life.

Chapter Text

The next day found Penelope stood before a long mirror in the back dressing room of the Modiste. Madame Delacroix was taking out some new fabrics to try, while Rae was minding her own business reading the latest Lady Whistledown pamphlet in the corner of the room.

Penelope felt exasperated. She did not recognise the girl staring back at her in the mirror, even though it was the only reflection she had ever known for years. The unflattering gowns with their blinding colours, the childish curls, the frilly ribbons and flowers and elaborate butterfly garments…they were simply not her at all, and they never had been. And she would never have a chance at being a bride if she continued to appear such a way.

She needed to find a way of showing who she truly was inside, without being attached to the Featherington name. She needed to be her own person for once, as terrifying at that prospect was for her, to a mark a new stage in her life – hopefully, one in which she might have a better chance of finding a husband. Or rather, an escape.

‘I do not wish to see a citrus colour ever again,’ Penelope said firmly, as she stared at the bright floral monstrosity currently swamping her figure.

‘Sour colours, indeed,’ Madame Delacroix said in her fake French accent, as she draped some pale lilac fabrics over Penelope’s shoulder. ‘But what has brought about this sudden desire for change?’

Penelope shook her head wearily. ‘I cannot live at home any longer. It’s been hard enough living under my mother’s rules, but…my sisters,’ she said, and she closed her eyes in despair. ‘To live at the whim of either the most cruel or the most simple person I know…’

She shook her head again, as if trying to shake the unbearable thought away. It was just too much. She couldn’t even fathom the horror of it.

‘I must take a husband before that happens. It is time,’ she said, trying to hide her nerves as she met Madame Delacroix’s understanding gaze in the reflection of the mirror.

Madame Delacroix smiled. ‘I see,’ she said, turning away to try a light green fabric against Penelope’s complexion. ‘And does my lady have a certain suitor in mind?’

A pause fell as Penelope lowered her gaze.

Yes, she did. She had always had a certain suitor in mind. But that was never going to be.

Not only was Colin not an option as a suitor, but his comments from the ball last season had probably ruined any other decent options for her as well. It was common knowledge that all Bridgertons were high on the social ladder, and their words had merit and power; by laughing at the idea of courting her, Colin may have unwittingly eliminated any potential prospects in the marriage mart for Penelope – not that she would have had many to begin with. Considering he had professed that Penelope was special to him that very same night, it was rather gut-wrenching to realise just what an impact his words to Lord Fife and his friends had had, not just on her heart, but potentially on her whole future as well.

But there was still a chance that some kind soul out there might consider her as worthy of marrying. There had to be.

‘I should like to be sensible,’ Penelope eventually said, though the words made her sad. ‘Someone kind, who allows me my privacy, for obvious…reasons.’

She could not have a man bossing her about and not allowing her any time to continue with her passion. Lady Whistledown was all she had left.

Madame Delacroix was looking at Penelope with a proud expression. ‘Then a new look is just the thing,’ she said encouragingly.

Penelope gave a nervous smile, appreciative that she had at least one person in her corner. ‘Perhaps…’ she said rather tentatively, ‘something like what they are wearing in Paris?’

She hadn’t been influenced by Colin, not at all. She just wanted to be fashionable.

Or that was what Penelope was telling herself, anyway.

Madame Delacroix raised her head in understanding and nodded, a warm smile on her face. She seemed to approve – not only that, she seemed excited.

For such a drastic change in her attire, Penelope thought she would have to spend all day at the Modiste getting measured and fitted, but surprisingly it was not as long or taxing a task as she had feared. Madame Delacroix was an expert in her field, truly, and was quick at work with the many new gowns, determined to help free Penelope from her family’s grip with something more…desirable. She deviated from Penelope’s usual bright, yellow colour palette and rather unflattering waistline, and instead chose more modern designs that offered sophisticated silhouettes, embellishments and colour combinations, much to Penelope’s joy.

She was extremely glad that she had sought out the help of Madame Delacroix and Rae in her new endeavour; they both seemed very enthusiastic about Penelope’s plan, and more than keen to rise to the challenge of giving her wardrobe and styling a bit of an upgrade.

A mere few hours later, Madame Delacroix had put together a collection of many dresses, garments and accessories for Penelope, all completely new, all completely terrifying. Penelope was stunned that she had truly done this, and spent a fair bit of her Lady Whistledown earnings on something so drastic.

What on earth would her mother say?

What would the ton think? Or would they even notice?

‘You must wear them proudly, Miss Penelope,’ Madame Delacroix said as Rae helped her fasten up the packages with ribbons. ‘Let yourself shine. And then that special someone will come your way, I am certain.’

Penelope doubted it, but she appreciated the sentiment all the same. ‘Thank you, Madame Delacroix,’ she said, touched. ‘For all your help. It is very much appreciated.’

‘Genevieve, please. And you are most welcome,’ Genevieve said warmly. ‘In truth, I have never been more excited for a customer of mine to show the ton one of my gowns. They will not be ready for you.’

Penelope chuckled, feeling rather bashful. She knew that Genevieve was only trying to be kind, but really, Penelope had never heard anything more ridiculous. Still, she was grateful to have such a supportive friend.

She only wished that Eloise could be here to provide some encouragement for Penelope’s daring new look as well.

No sooner had that thought crossed her mind than none other than Eloise herself arrived at the Modiste, here for a new fitting with Francesca. Unlike at the Livingston’s garden soirée, Eloise could not simply act as if she had not seen her former friend. So, the two of them were forced to talk, finally. And it could not have gone any worse.

Penelope tried to apologise and explain her actions with last season’s Lady Whistledown paper, but her words fell on deaf ears.

‘No, I do not need your explanations,’ Eloise cut over her coldly. ‘I have kept your secret exactly because I do not wish to keep revisiting the past. Now you have your life, and I have mine.’

Penelope would have believed her calm, unbothered act, if it had not been for the waver in Eloise’s voice.

‘With Cressida?’ Penelope said sceptically, unashamed to show her devastated feelings on the matter, and Eloise scoffed. ‘Are you really friends with her?’

She just couldn’t understand it. How could Eloise possibly have formed a friendship with the girl who had bullied Penelope so relentlessly over the years? That was what upset her most of all.

If Eloise felt at all guilty or remorseful, she did not show it. ‘I wish you very well, Penelope,’ she said, though her tone was insincere, and with that she turned away and withdrew into the dressing room.

Penelope was in despair when she and Rae made the journey home, the carriage filled with piles of boxes and packages containing all her new purchased goods, and she did not even bother trying to hide her tears from Rae. She had hoped so dearly over the past few months that time would heal the wound she had caused, and that she and Eloise would somehow be able to find a way to patch things up. She had even prayed for it on the odd occasion. But seeing Eloise today had made her realise that their friendship truly was over. All that remained between them now was bitter resentment, betrayal and pain. And that was all it would ever be from now on.

She had been so upset by their encounter at the Modiste that Penelope quickly grew uncertain about whether she would even bother attending tonight’s ball at Danbury House. She was in too much of a wretched mood to deal with the stress of facing any kind of major social event.

But, by the time Rae entered Penelope’s bedchamber that evening, she was pleased to see Penelope sat at her vanity table, dressed in her yellow silk dressing gown, one of Genevieve’s new dresses and jewellery laid out on the bed, a pair of silver glittering court shoes propped by the table, and her messy hair all ready and waiting to be styled for tonight’s highly-anticipated event.

Rae approached and was just about to raise the hairbrush to Penelope’s head when Penelope found the courage to speak.

‘I should like to try something a little different tonight,’ she said, her tone fearful and yet also firm.

Rae paused, intrigued, as Penelope then opened a pamphlet from her table that Genevieve had lent her, and held it up for Rae to see. On the page were detailed illustrations of the most recent hairstyles and makeup trends in Paris. Rae studied the page, and a small smile appeared on her face.

‘I think this one will suit you perfectly,’ Rae said, pointing at one of the illustrations.

Penelope smiled back at her and exhaled shakily. ‘I would very much like that.’

And so, Rae set to work.

As Rae did her magic and painted Penelope’s face and styled her hair, Penelope simply stared at her reflection in the mirror and took deep breaths, in and out, as she tried to build herself up for the ball. She had had enough of just letting life pass her by, and she had a goal now to drive her forward. She needed to do this. She wanted to do this. And she was ready to move out in front.

Penelope had never been the type of girl to get attention or take the spotlight. For other young ladies, such a thing seemed to come so naturally to them, whereas Penelope’s talent lay more in the realm of hiding at the back of things.

But maybe tonight would be different.

Maybe her frightened feet would take that necessary step forward, and she would step out of the shadows and into the light. Maybe it was finally her turn now for a chance at success and happiness.

She had to believe that – she had to, or she would never have the courage to step through those doors into that ballroom tonight.

***

As was tradition, the first ball since the ton’s return to London was being hosted by Lady Danbury, the formidable lioness of a dowager who was almost as influential and powerful as the Queen herself, to mark the commencement of the social season. The dancing was already well underway by the time the Bridgertons’ carriages drew up outside Danbury House, and Colin smiled eagerly as he stepped out onto the gravel driveway and took in the sight of Lady Danbury’s magnificent home. 

The imposing mansion stood resplendent against the twilight sky, its majestic façade framed by huge sprays of colourful flowers spilling from large stone planters. A steady stream of horses and ornate carriages kept appearing to deliver the crème de la crème of society to the grand event, dressed in their finest glittering attire and buzzing with enthusiasm for the first proper social engagement of the season.

The Viscount and his new Viscountess led the way through the entrance hall, looking perfectly stunning as always, and they were all greeted by a riot of vibrant petals and blooms in every hue. They received a dance card upon entry, the elegant script proclaiming: ‘Lady Danbury presents The Four Seasons Ball’, and the sound of calming music being played by a string quartet reached their ears as the butler ushered them towards the ballroom.

As the Bridgertons emerged on the wide stairway at the top end of the ballroom, their senses were dazzled by the spectacle. Lady Danbury – or rather, her diligent staff – had clearly gone to great lengths to dress up her manor beautifully for the momentous occasion. The hall had been transformed into a garden of earthly delights and was filled with lavish, opulent arrangements of flowers hanging along the walls and columns, each representing a different season. Spring’s pastel blooms intertwined with summer’s vibrant roses, while autumn’s rich chrysanthemums created a beautiful tapestry alongside winter’s pristine white lilies. Massive chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, their crystal prisms casting a glittering light across the polished marble floor, and the string quartet were now playing a lively waltz, their melodies filling the air with an irresistible call to dance. To the left of the grand stairs, seated in a place of honour, was Queen Charlotte; her regal presence lent an air of gravitas to the proceedings, and her approval – or lack thereof – was a silent, potent force in the room.

Lady Danbury immediately approached the Bridgertons at the top of the stairs once she saw that they had arrived. The orchestrator of this magnificent affair and a vision of regal elegance in a gown of white, she greeted each of them with a knowing smile, her sharp wit and keen observations leaving no doubt as to who reigned supreme this evening.

Colin and Benedict both offered to escort Lady Danbury down the stairs, which she accepted with gusto.

‘Now, Mr. Bridgerton, I hear you are the man of the hour!’ she said to Colin, eyeing him as they slowly made their way down the steps, and Benedict chuckled loudly. ‘You seem much changed since your excursions around Europe.’

Colin chuckled smugly. ‘Well, change is often a good thing, is it not, Lady Danbury?’ he said, putting on his charming voice.

Lady Danbury raised her eyebrows at him as they came to a halt by the dance floor. ‘Well, that may be a matter of debate,’ she said thoughtfully, each word spoken slowly, carefully and – as always – sharply. ‘It often depends on the nature of the change. And the person. And whether or not said change is genuine, of course.’

Colin’s grin began to falter. ‘Yes, of course.’

Lady Danbury smiled, looking rather satisfied with herself. ‘Enjoy your evening, gentlemen,’ she said, and with that she strode off, taking her trusty cane with her.

Colin glanced briefly at Benedict. He wiggled his eyebrows playfully at him, a knowing grin on his face.

Swallowing uncomfortably, Colin averted his gaze and looked around the ballroom, taking in the delightful scene before them. Multiple pairs of dancers filled the hall, moving gracefully in time to the string quartet’s exquisite music. There was an overwhelming amount of beautiful, young ladies dressed in lavishly-trimmed, elaborate, colourful frocks, all keeping an eager eye out for any handsome or wealthy suitors, their dancing cards hanging tantalisingly from their wrists as they smiled away and batted their eyelashes. They were surrounded by their bloodthirsty mamas and business-minded fathers, all of whom were also on the hunt, but only for the most advantageous of matches for their daughters.

The moment Colin stepped into view, many of the debutantes’ expressions perked up and they eyed him eagerly, waiting for him to approach. Colin did not feel much like flirting tonight, though.

Anthony had invited him to join him and Benedict for drinks at Will Mondrich’s club earlier during the day to congratulate him on his many new admirers. Colin knew that he ought to be cheered by this, but for some reason he wasn’t; yes, his plan was going well and working very successfully, but was his newfound talent with women really the only thing that could gain his brothers’ respect? Nevertheless, although it irked him, Colin did recognise that perhaps this was a way to garner the favour of his male peers outside his family as well. So, after bantering for a bit with his siblings, Colin then left to join the fray of eligible lords and bachelors.

Within minutes, he felt like he had acquired more friends from the gentlemen of the ton than he had over the past two years combined. He had only been at the ball for a short while, but Colin was thoroughly enjoying playing up to the attentions of his fellow bachelors, who seemed much more interested in what he had to say compared to previously. When he had returned from his tour of Greece last season, he had been teased relentlessly for his new look – if one could consider his stubble a new look – and considered dreadfully boring for his stories of all the places he had seen on his travels. And now he knew why: he’d had no conquests to talk of. If he had known that all it would take for him to be considered a worthy conversationalist was for him to have been to a few brothels, he would have started this new part of his life much earlier. It felt good to be admired by his peers for once.

Colin was mid-flow telling Lord Houghton and Lord Stanton about his rather exhilarating encounters with his older female ‘friend’ in Italy when he vaguely became aware that most of the guests in attendance had turned to gaze in shock towards the grand staircase of Lady Danbury’s ballroom.

Curiosity got the better of him when the new arrival appeared in his peripheral vision as he carried on talking, and he glanced to the side. He did not recognise the young lady at first; she was short and rather voluptuous, with red hair and a striking emerald green dress.

‘I told the Contessa that, in my homeland, we do not-’

But then Colin opened his eyes properly.

And he saw.

He broke off mid-sentence, any coherent thought and word having disappeared in that instant, and his lips parted in surprise as Penelope Featherington came closer. Taken aback, he watched her slowly walk past with an astonished expression frozen on his face. He knew he should not stare, but he couldn’t help it. He was captivated.

Penelope’s tight, frizzy ringlets were gone, and instead her hair cascaded over one shoulder in long, luscious waves, held in place with a headpiece adorned with shining green jewels. She wore a shimmering gown of deep emerald green, quite unlike anything Colin – or anyone, for that matter – had ever seen her in before, with intricate beaded embroidery and feathery accents made of black decorated tulle on the bodice. On her hands were sheer, sparkling black opera gloves, the colour of which was a notable contrast to the pastel shades worn by the other young ladies. Her face had been painted to perfection to highlight her cheekbones, lips and mesmerising blue eyes, and she wore a simple jewelled necklace, along with drop earrings of clear, shimmering stones.

Colin thought that Penelope looked ever so slightly nervous, but that did not matter, for she carried off the whole look remarkably well. Those were colours and styles that her mother would never have allowed before. It was unusual, it was elegant, it was striking, it was…it was new. All of it, the whole vision, was so brand new.

Penelope was terrified as she carried on walking slowly across the ballroom, trying to keep her head held high and her eyes determinedly away from Colin, who she could feel watching her as she passed. She knew she had to pretend to be sure of herself if this were not to end up a disaster.

It was rather alarming, to feel so many pairs of stunned eyes on her, after all this time of being ignored. Being invisible was all she had ever known; she wasn’t sure if she liked being noticed this time around. It was in some ways thrilling, but it also made her even more apprehensive about the challenges that lay ahead.

She glanced briefly at Colin from the corner of her eye, but did not pause to speak or even acknowledge him, for in that moment, as she felt everyone’s awed gazes on her, she was unstoppable. She suddenly felt quite over Colin now and no longer craved his attention; he was small-minded, callous and had lost control of who he really was, deep down in his soul, and nothing could be more distasteful to Penelope than that. She did not need him anymore, she was stunned to realise, and that gave her a buzz almost as great as the one generated by the appraising looks and smiles she was currently being given by the entire ton.

Smiling and lifting her chin up, she then reached the other end of the ballroom and went over to fetch herself a glass of lemonade, unaware that Colin was still staring after her, utterly dumbfounded.

His heart was beating remarkably fast, bizarrely, and it felt like his brain had stopped working. Colin had always thought that Penelope looked lovely at social occasions, but tonight she had changed dramatically, and it was as if she was no longer one of the Featheringtons, or even just the best friend of his younger sister; she was her own person – no, woman – now.

‘Well, well, will wonders never cease?’

‘Who would have thought it?’

Colin barely heard Lord Houghton’s and Lord Stanton’s mumbled, derogatory comments; he was barely aware of anything at all. His eyes still on Penelope’s retreated back, Colin then took an unsteady gulp of his drink and turned back to his new friends, only to realise that he had completely forgotten what he had been speaking to them about. Penelope’s arrival had driven everything else from his mind, it seemed.

He knew he had to act as if he was not bothered or had not even noticed her, though. He couldn’t show that he had been driven to distraction and lost all train of thought. He was a changed man, after all. A new Colin. A better Colin.

‘Are you quite well, Bridgerton?’

Colin blinked rapidly; Lord Haughton was addressing him. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘Are you…ill or something?’ Haughton asked, raising an eyebrow at him. ‘You look a little…bothered.’

‘N-no. Not at all,’ Colin said, clearing his throat, and he went to take another gulp of lemonade, only to realise that he had already finished it. ‘I am most well. I have never been healthier, in fact.’

Lord Haughton and Lord Stanton exchanged a bemused look.

‘Now, what were you saying about this Contessa?’ Haughton asked, grinning.

Colin opened his mouth but then swallowed. ‘I…I forget,’ he said, forcing a smile. ‘Wh-what about you, Stanton, you mentioned you met someone last month? Tell us of your adventures with this young miss.’

If either of them was confused by Colin’s sudden change in attitude, they did not show it, for Lord Stanton was quick and eager to launch into his tale of his most recent sexual exploits. Colin tried to listen, but not a word of what Stanton was saying went through his ear; he was too busy focussing on trying not to glance over Stanton’s shoulder to see where Penelope had got to.

He had never seen her hair in such a way, or her dressed in anything that wasn’t a citrus colour, with a waistline that flattered her figure, or her makeup emphasising every feature of her face. He was in awe, and he doubted he was the only one. She looked so different. She looked stunning.

Colin wanted nothing more than to go up to Penelope and compliment her on her changed look, but something held him back…perhaps the knowledge, growing sadly more and more certain in his heart, that she was purposefully avoiding him. She had seen him there stood near the dance floor, and yet walked right past. She did not seem to have any intention in approaching or speaking to him tonight. It had been a punch to the gut, to watch her drift away from him like that on the dance floor, no longer needing or wanting his company.

It was undeniable now that she was cross with him for some reason, or perhaps just simply bored by him.

Whatever it was, Colin just wished he knew what he had done to deserve it.

Chapter Text

Lady Danbury’s lavishly-decorated ballroom had become a kaleidoscope of swirling silks and satins as couples took to the dance floor for another waltz and the musicians struck up a sweet melody. Penelope watched from the periphery of the hall as the ladies twirled gracefully, then glanced around to assess the company surrounding her; clusters of strategizing mamas, snobbish gentlemen discussing politics and women, and young debutantes stood in giggling groups, their cheeks flushed with excitement as they glanced shyly – if not a little desperately – at eligible bachelors.

Penelope did not belong with any of those groups, it was safe to say.

She walked over to take her solitary place at the side of the dance floor by a refreshments table, her hands trembling nervously. She was trying to look as if she was simply watching the dancers, but in reality, she was just hoping, praying, that her money and efforts had not gone to waste, and that someone would be interested enough by her new look to perhaps engage her in conversation.

Lo and behold, within seconds, no less than three gentleman had approached her. Penelope could scarcely believe it.

‘Miss Featherington,’ Lord Leiber greeted, his tone that of pleasant surprise. ‘A pleasure to see you.’

Penelope looked up in shock. Beside him stood Lord Garret, a tall, black gentleman with a neat beard and dark waistcoat. On his other side was Lord Barnell, yet another handsome gentleman. They were all eyeing her appraisingly.

‘What a striking gown you have on,’ Lord Garret said to her quite brazenly, a drink in his hand.

Penelope looked at the three of them in giddy disbelief, her brain unable to catch up with what was happening. ‘Y-you as well, my lord,’ she replied; Lord Garret frowned at her, and she laughed awkwardly. ‘Uh…n-not the gown part, obviously. The first part.’

She began to grimace; Lord Leiber’s face was already starting to fall as he watched her struggle.

‘It is a-a pleasure to see you all in your…proper evening dress, which is not at all…gown-like,’ Penelope said, trying to recover herself as she smiled at the three of them.

Unfortunately, Lord Garret’s attention had already been diverted by the decorations on the ceiling, and both Lord Barnell and Lord Leiber were giving her strained, polite smiles of pity that Penelope had been on the receiving end of many times before.

‘Are you looking forward to this season, Miss Featherington?’ Lord Barnell asked, simply to fill the awkward pause.

‘Y-yes, very much so. It will be such fun,’ she said, and she forced a chuckle to try to disguise the fact that her words had accidentally sounded sarcastic.

Lord Leiber grimaced, but seemed willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. ‘So, err…Miss Featherington, tell us…what is it you do to occupy your time when you are not otherwise engaged at such events as these?’

‘Err…well…I-I like to read…very much. Perhaps too much,’ Penelope said, chuckling nervously as she raised her eyes to the ceiling, wishing she could just disappear; this was going disastrously. ‘My mama is always telling me, “Put my books down!”. Not that there is anything wrong with reading, of course. I am not quite sure of her reasoning. Err, do you all like to read?’

She realised then that she hadn’t taken a moment to stop for breath; she did so now as she looked warily up at the three lords. They were staring back at her rather blankly.

It was rather disheartening, to say the least. Penelope had been counting on her new dress and hair to do all the work for her. She had never actually thought to prepare for the part where she would be required to make conversation with these men.

Lord Garrett was eyeing her strangely. ‘We, err, do not have time for books, Miss Featherington.’

‘Oh, of course,’ Penelope said in a shaky voice as she nodded rapidly at him. ‘You are…busy gentlemen, indeed. Lords, even. Yes.’

A rather pregnant pause fell among their little group. Penelope was trying so hard to think of something else to ask them all, or something to comment on about this splendid ball, or just anything really, but unfortunately her brain seemed to have lost the capability to make her mouth produce words in this very awkward moment. So, she simply resigned to an excessive amount of fidgeting, a lot of glancing around the ballroom, and awkwardly smiling at the lords stood before her. The three gentlemen looked to be finding this whole encounter almost as painful as she was.

Eventually, Lord Barnell opened his mouth to speak. ‘Perhaps we-’

‘I-’ Penelope began at the same time, but she cut herself off at once, and laughed nervously. ‘Oh…Uh, forgive me. Uh…Please. You were saying, Lord Barnell?’

‘I was going to say, perhaps we should take our leave,’ he said pointedly, exchanging a knowing glance with Lord Leiber, ‘lest we remain too long and give Lady Whistledown something to write about.’

He looked quite terrified by the prospect.

Clearly, nothing worse could be said of any man, if he were to be seen loitering in a ballroom with Penelope Featherington. Penelope could hardly blame them for thinking such a way after her rather dismal display of character.

Her false smile frozen on her face, Penelope watched as the three men bowed their heads politely at her. She bowed back hastily, unable to think of anything to say in response, and kept her head there sunk towards the floor as the three lords stepped away from her.

The moment they had disappeared from view, she slowly straightened up and closed her eyes, her breathing rather heavy. She then raised her eyes to the ceiling in dismay and heaved a deep breath.

That was appalling.

Sighing, Penelope then walked agitatedly over to a different part of the ballroom, hoping a change of scenery might improve things. She was careful to avoid Colin as she hurried past, who appeared to be in conversation with his brother Benedict by the display of summery florals.

Colin had been scanning the room for Penelope ever since her grand entrance into the ballroom, but had kept getting distracted by his friends and siblings, so he hadn’t been able to see where she had got to. Until now, that was.

His lips parted in awe again as he watched her standing in the corner admiring Lady Danbury’s decorations. That dress and hair really were quite something.

‘She looks rather different, do you not think?’ Colin said absent-mindedly.

Benedict frowned, confused by the sudden change in subject. ‘Who are you referring to?’

‘Penelope, of course,’ Colin said, as if it were obvious.

Benedict followed his gaze and tilted his head approvingly. ‘Hmm, she looks very nice, indeed. No wonder her mother looks so sour, her own daughter’s shown us all just how appalling her tastes always were,’ he said, taking a swig of his drink.

‘I wonder what brought it about,’ Colin said, ‘this…change.’

‘You’re one to talk!’ Benedict said, amused. ‘You do realise all those ladies over in that corner are eyeing you for a dance.’

Colin forced a smile as he glanced over at the ladies Benedict was indicating. ‘I do not much feel like taking to the floor tonight,’ he said quietly.

‘That’s unlike you. Not even with Penelope?’

‘Wh-why do you say that?’ Colin asked, frowning.

Benedict raised an eyebrow at him, confused by his rather odd tone of voice. ‘Well, only because you two nearly always dance at these balls,’ he said, shrugging. ‘She is your friend, is she not?’

‘Yes, she is. But…’ Colin trailed off for a moment as he gazed back over at Penelope, whose back was firmly to him as she made her way around the side of the dance floor; he swallowed uncomfortably. ‘Well…she seems to be seeking other company besides mine tonight.’

Benedict’s eyebrows show right up his forehead. ‘Well, that is simply no good, we must report her to the authorities at once,’ he said in mock horror.

Colin merely rolled his eyes, trying not to register the feel of his cheeks reddening.

‘Oh! Your new chums are summoning your presence, Brother,’ Benedict said, a teasing grin on his face.

Colin glanced around warily; Lord Haunton and Lord Stanton were stood by the stairs, beckoning him over. He forced a smile at his brother, exhaled deeply, and walked over to join them, taking care to stand tall and smile proudly as he approached.

***

Penelope was, once again, stood alone by a refreshments table as she watched the ball continue to unfold before her eyes.

So much for trying to change, she thought to herself grumpily.

Colin’s eldest brother, Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, had just taken his breathtakingly beautiful wife to the floor for a dance. Penelope watched with envy as they moved in a circle and waltzed together, looking the very picture of perfection. The newlyweds couldn’t keep their eyes off one another, nor could they keep the enamoured smiles from their faces. They were so blissfully in love and happy – a joy Penelope doubted she would ever know, given how terribly things were going.

She smoothed down her dress somewhat bitterly and raised her eyes to the ceiling as she fidgeted with her arms. She already wanted tonight to be over, and it had barely even begun.

‘Penelope.’

Penelope turned around in pleasant surprise; Francesca Bridgerton had approached her at the side of the ballroom, clutching a drink and looking quite relieved to see a friendly face.

Penelope smiled warmly at her, pleased to have a friend to talk to for once. It was nice to know that she had not lost everyone in the Bridgerton family.

This night was Francesca’s first ever ball, and she looked quite stunning, with her elegant light blue gown and her luscious brown hair pinned up. Her face stood out easily as the most beautiful amongst the sea of ladies in attendance; Penelope would not be at all surprised if the Queen named her this season’s Diamond, but, then again, the Queen liked to be unpredictable.

The two stood in silence for a moment as they watched the dancers moving gracefully across the floor. The selfish part of Penelope wanted to hold her tongue, for it was nice to have company here on the sidelines, but she knew she could not stay silent.

‘You really ought to take to the floor again,’ she said.

Francesca raised her eyebrows sceptically. ‘Ought I?’

‘Once one finds oneself on the wall, it is difficult to come off it. No matter what one does,’ she said, looking down glumly at the floor.

‘At least the wall is not asking what makes me tick,’ Francesca pointed out.

Penelope grinned; she had noticed Francesca being cornered by a few lords earlier. ‘Did you not enjoy conversing with those gentlemen?’

‘I expected conversation. I did not expect to be inspected as if I were some…rare insect writhing under a microscope,’ Francesca said, looking quite traumatised.

Penelope had only experienced the merest hint of that earlier, and she had to agree with Francesca; it was not a pleasant feeling. ‘You do not much like attracting notice, do you?’ she asked, watching her thoughtfully.

‘Not really,’ Francesca replied. ‘No.’

‘Perhaps that does make you rare,’ Penelope said, as she gazed longingly at the Viscount and Viscountess twirling in each other’s arms. ‘It seems as though every Bridgerton was born to attract notice…in one way or another.’

As they danced, far too close to one another than was proper was such a formal occasion, Penelope noticed that Viscount Bridgerton was gazing at his wife, Kate, as if he were in awe, as if he couldn’t quite believe that she was real, or even that she was his. Penelope would give anything to be looked at in such a way.

She looked down and swallowed. ‘I am…different from my siblings as well,’ she said quietly, and Francesca turned to meet her sympathetic gaze. ‘It can be difficult, can it not?’

Francesca tilted her head and returned Penelope’s sad smile. A small silence fell between them as they turned their attention back to the dancing, both their eyes glistening slightly.

Francesca inhaled sharply. ‘But they are wonderful,’ she said, a fond tone to her voice. ‘Each of them.’

Penelope nodded. ‘I know. You are lucky for that,’ she said, and she leaned towards her. ‘And you are lucky to have so much notice. Even if it is trying. For some of us…notice is very slight.’

She tried not to sound bitter as she said the words, though she was not sure if she got away with it.

Right on cue, a gentleman then approached the table, his eyes on no one but Francesca.

‘Miss Francesca. A dance?’ Lord Cho asked as he bowed towards her.

Francesca glanced back at Penelope, who gave her an encouraging smile. Reluctantly, she turned back to Lord Cho and gave a polite curtsy and smile.

‘Of course, my lord,’ Francesca said graciously, putting down her drink and taking his hand, but before she let him lead her away, she paused and turned back to Penelope. ‘You really ought to take to the floor again. It is difficult to come off the wall once you are on it.’

Penelope smiled back at her, grateful for her kindness, and chuckled softly as Francesca then glided away to begin the next waltz with Lord Cho.

She looked down, her heart beating rapidly as she tried to take in her own advice that she had given Francesca, and gave a tight nod. Francesca was right. Why give up so soon? The night was still young; Penelope may have ruined things with her first attempt at conversing with gentlemen, but that did not necessarily mean that the rest of tonight would go as badly.

Penelope began to move along the periphery of the dance floor and smiled as she watched Lord Cho and an anxious-looking Francesca perform a slow stately dance along with all the other pairs. Continuing her way along the side of the ballroom, Penelope then caught sight of a pair of young ladies who were fixing her with scornful looks. Clara Livingston, in particular, was eyeing her as if she was the most pathetic-looking creature she had ever seen.

Barely refraining from rolling her eyes, Penelope hastened away towards a dessert table, feeling rather bitter and dejected. She had hoped that changing herself with her new clothes and forcing herself to appear confident would stop the bullying and the sneers. She had even thought that she had looked rather nice tonight, but clearly it must have all been in her imagination.

Simply because she could think of nothing better to do, Penelope then grabbed the nearest bowl of ice cream she could find from the dessert table and shoved a large spoonful in her mouth. She regretted this action at once as an intense pain immediately hit the front part of her head, and she groaned loudly as she clutched a hand to it, wincing.

‘Are you well, Miss Featherington?’

Penelope looked up, alarmed; a gentleman had approached her with a look of concern on his kind face. He was perhaps ten years or so older than her, had blond thinning hair, a smart beard, and wore a maroon tailcoat.

‘Oh. Yes. Forgive me,’ she said, embarrassed, as she put the ice cream back down on the dessert table. ‘Cold headache.’

‘From the ice cream or from the very congenial-looking miss with the sneer?’ he asked in his warm, deep voice.

He glanced pointedly over at Miss Livingston; she obviously overheard him, for she quickly moved away from them both.

Penelope chuckled softly. ‘Do not worry. I have been the recipient of an untold number of withering looks. Hers was mediocre at best,’ she said, without thinking.

Strangely, the gentleman did not seem put off by her remark. On the contrary, he looked rather intrigued. Penelope glanced up at him tentatively; he had a warm smile on his face, and it was making her rather nervous.

‘Um, Lord Debling, is it not?’ Penelope said, her voice somewhat unsteady.

The gentleman nodded, still smiling. ‘And why do I have the feeling that you, in turn, know how to make one wither, if you so choose?’ he asked, in an approving sort of tone.

Penelope stared at him blankly. She wasn’t sure if she had heard him correctly.

‘Me?’ she said softly.

Lord Debling gave a faint nod, his smile still warm and charming as he gazed at her.

He was rather pleasant to the eye, Penelope thought. Far too pleasant-looking to warrant him spending time talking to her, out of all the ladies here. She simply could not fathom the fact that someone like him could see her in such a way.

‘Well, I…I suppose…I do not,’ Penelope said shakily, not knowing what she could possibly say.

Her voice gave out as the nerves got the better of her, and she chuckled. Within seconds, her laughter had turned into a flustered cough.

‘Uh…excuse me, I-’ Penelope trailed off, at a complete loss with what to do, and she began to turn away in utter mortification.

And then she felt a sharp heel of someone’s shoe treading directly on the skirt of her dress.

She heard the fabric tear loudly just before stumbling and nearly falling flat on her face. Luckily, she managed to steady herself before that happened, but the damage had already been done; her dress had been torn, and from the loud over-dramatic gasp of horror beside her, Penelope knew just who the culprit was without even having to look.

‘Ooh! How mortifying!’ Cressida Cowper exclaimed gleefully as she watched Penelope slowly straighten up. ‘I am so clumsy. My deepest apologies.’

Penelope had gathered some of the torn skirt of her dress up in her hands, but did not even bother to meet Cressida’s gaze, for she knew her anger would overcome her if she did.

‘Heavens. Well, accidents will happen,’ Lord Debling said calmly. ‘Miss Featherington, I shall find a maid to help you.’

Penelope was too busy trying to keep her breathing under control, so Cressida jumped in to thank the kind lord on her behalf.

‘It would be most appreciated,’ she said in that charming, sultry voice of hers.

Lord Debling nodded. ‘Miss Cowper,’ he said, before stepping away to find someone to help Penelope.

Penelope kept her eyes fixed on the floor as she breathed deeply, wishing nothing more than for Cressida to just walk away and enjoy her moment. But, of course, Cressida was not one to waste an opportunity to gloat.

‘It is a pity you did not choose something sturdier. Perhaps if you had not bought such cheap fabric, it would not have ripped,’ Cressida said smugly, and at this Penelope looked up to glare at her.

Cressida laughed, and then, with a cruel grin, sauntered away, leaving only Eloise, who had been stood directly behind her. Of course – Penelope should have known that Eloise would be there, right at Cressida’s side.

The two former friends locked eyes. Penelope’s chest was heaving as she scowled over at Eloise; she was furious, and not even Eloise’s guilt-stricken look of horror was enough of a consolation. She had figured that Eloise would want someone to take over her old role of being her closest friend…but to pick the vilest person in the ton? Penelope could not fathom it.

It seemed, from Eloise’s expression, that neither could she in that moment.

Penelope began to shake her head at her disgust, and then, feeling the tears building within her, she began to hurry away.

‘Pen, I am…I am so sorry-’

But Penelope barely heard Eloise’s choked-up words as she fled. She knew she ought to have waited for Lord Debling to return, when he had been doing her a kindness in fetching a maid for her, but Penelope could not bear to be in this ballroom one second longer. She had to get out. She had to leave this very moment.

She hurried up the grand stairs, lifting up the skirt of her dress so that she would not trip up over the torn fabric. She did not even notice Colin stood at the top of the stairs talking with some other gentlemen until she heard his smug voice as she brushed past.

‘There were perhaps some late nights-’

 Raising her eyes to the ceiling in despair, Penelope quickened her pace and rushed out of the ballroom, too distressed to hear Colin call after her.

‘Pen?’

Colin stared after Penelope’s retreating figure, open-mouthed, as she disappeared around the corner. He frowned; she had looked rather upset, and the skirt of her dress looked as if it had been torn at the bottom.

‘She did not look well, did she?’ Colin said to his new friends, concerned, as he stared at the open doorway.

‘The Featherington girl?’ Lord Stanton said bemusedly, and he raised his eyebrows. ‘Why concern yourself with her? I want to know what happened on these late nights.’

Colin tried to smile but could not manage it. He was too worried about Penelope. What could have happened to make her flee from the ball so early?

‘Whatever happened to you, I must say, Bridgerton, you are much more fun this season,’ Lord Houghton said, raising his glass towards him.

But Colin couldn’t concentrate on what they were saying. He couldn’t even take his eyes off the spot where Penelope had disappeared.

‘Do excuse me, just a moment,’ he said, stepping away from them both, and he passed his glass to one of the footmen by the door as he left to follow Penelope outside.

He didn’t care if Houghton and Stanton objected or thought him an idiot for caring; his friend was clearly upset and hurting, and her needs came above all else. He had not approached her all evening thus far, but he was too attuned to her emotions to ignore this, and he had always been the one to look out for her. That was a comfortable dynamic for them to return to, even in Penelope’s mind, surely? Besides, he needed to fix whatever it was that was broken between them.

Outside, Penelope was pacing in the arched walkway in the entrance to Danbury House as she waited for a carriage to be brought around for her. The sky was pitch black, and yet the ball could continue for many hours, perhaps even until sunrise. Penelope could not put herself through that.

She clutched a hand to her forehead, breathing heavily as she tried so desperately not to let the tears fall, and angrily tugged at the beautiful green clip fixed to her hair. She hurled it down to the ground bitterly, and rested an arm against one of the brick columns as she tried to control her breathing.

What a fool she had been, for thinking that changing her appearance would have made the remotest difference to her luck out here among the horror that was the ton.

She did not even hear Colin emerge behind her, she was so upset.

‘Pen,’ he said, trying to sound surprised, as if he had not known she would be out here.

Penelope spun around. ‘Colin,’ she muttered, turning away as she wiped her face.

He was very much the last person she wanted to speak to right now. She was already feeling humiliated and pathetic enough. Would he not just take the hint and leave her alone?

‘What are you doing out here?’ she asked, without looking at him.

‘I am just... getting some fresh air,’ Colin said, hoping that would sound convincing enough.

He eyed for a moment as she stood there, her hands clamped together, her face turned firmly away from him as she waited for her carriage. Why would she not even look at him? What had happened?

 ‘Why are you leaving so soon? Especially in such a…charming dress,’ Colin said, taking in her emerald green gown appreciatively.

But Penelope closed her eyes and shook her head; she could not bear his false charms or derision, not tonight. ‘Do not mock me, please,’ she said quietly, in a strained voice that sounded as if she had been crying.

Colin frowned. He was always baffled when she refused to see herself in high regard…and it was almost insulting that she would think he would ever mock her for anything.

‘Mock you?’ he said, confused. ‘I assure you, I am quite serious. The colour rather suits you.’

That was rather understating things; she looked genuinely stunning.

Penelope stared heavily ahead of her, exasperated. Stop it. Please, just stop it, she wanted to scream at him.

Instead, she turned to finally meet his gaze, and simply said, ‘Goodnight, Mr. Bridgerton.’

She turned to move away towards her carriage, which the footmen had now brought around, but she should have known that Colin would not let her leave that easily.

‘Do you not need a chaperone?’ he asked, concerned.

He felt rather shaken; she had never called him ‘Mr. Bridgerton’ before. Not once.

Penelope turned back to him with a bitter smile. ‘Spinsters do not need chaperones.’

Colin chuckled. ‘You are not a spinster,’ he said, almost amused by such an absurd concept, as he looked her up and down.

But Penelope could keep in her temper no longer. ‘I am in my third year on the marriage mart, with no prospects to show for it,’ she said sharply, ‘what would you call that?’

Colin’s smile instantly disappeared.

Her tone of voice had changed; it was no longer high-pitched, nervous or innocent. It was mature, and cross, and her demeanour was far more confident. Not only that, she was also glaring up at him with cold, angry eyes.

Colin felt rather taken aback. He had never seen her look at him that way before. He had not known she was even capable of such a look.

It was no use. He had to address the elephant in the room.

‘Is something wrong, Pen?’ he asked quietly, taking a step towards her. ‘Between us, I mean.’

Penelope could feel her heart thudding furiously as she cast her eyes over his face and dashing clothing. The sight of him used to make her so happy and giddy, whereas now…it only brought her pain.

‘I wrote to you this summer, as I always do, and…well, you did not respond,’ Colin said, trying not to show just how saddened he was by that fact. ‘Admittedly, very few did, but…’

She was still just staring up at him, her expression numb of all emotion other than the frostiness in her eyes. It was rather unsettling.

‘If you are going to make me say it out loud,’ Colin said in an almost tantalising voice, and he paused for a half-second, hoping the charming wiles he had picked up abroad would help him here, ‘I miss you.’

Penelope gazed at him in disbelief. She was met with a bizarre urge to slap him around the face. Instead, she could only give him a mirthless grin.

‘You miss me?’ she said, her eyebrows raised sceptically.

Colin nodded and smiled, almost smugly. He was smirking at her as if he thought that would be all she would need to hear for any issues to just melt away, that he could just so easily charm his way out of it, and treat her just like those silly gaggles of ladies from the garden soirée.

Penelope couldn’t take it anymore. Enough was enough.

‘You miss me, but you would never court me, is that correct?’ she demanded, as she took a step towards him.

Her voice trembled, but was firm. Fierce, even.

Colin frowned, befuddled, and he took a hesitant step back from her. He had certainly not been expecting that. Courting? The two of them? Since when had that idea ever been broached? They were childhood friends, were they not?

He closed his eyes and began to shake his head, confused. ‘Pen, I...-’

But whatever excuse he was going to come up with, Penelope did not care to hear it.

‘I overheard you,’ Penelope said, ‘at my mama’s ball last season.’

Colin began to blink rather rapidly. His heart was hammering wildly against his chest. His mind was whirling.

 ‘Telling everyone how you would never ever court Penelope Featherington,’ Penelope went on, almost aggressively, a false smile on her face as she nodded at him.

It felt good to let it all out, to see his guilty face fall with understanding and horror.

Colin’s heart sank. No. No, no, please no.

At least it all made sense now. She had been treating him like a stranger ever since he had returned to London – well, ever since he had departed for Europe, really – and now he knew why. He almost wished he could go back to when he didn’t know the reason; anything to avoid this awful feeling in his chest. He had never felt more ashamed.

Colin tilted his head at her softly, wishing there was anything he could say to remedy this.

But there was nothing.

A pair of young noble gentlemen then walked past them under the archway to head into Danbury House; Colin smiled and nodded at them in acknowledgement, while inwardly wishing there were no prying eyes to witness this.

Penelope kept her eyes fixed firmly on him as he glanced around awkwardly, clearly feeling at a loss with what to do. He was floundering, and clearly could not comprehend the severity of what those words from the last ball had truly done to her. It had been her worst nightmare come to life – the person she loved and trusted most in the world, who had merely moments before proclaimed how special she was to him, taking all of her insecurities, fears and everything she thought worst of herself to mock and laugh behind her back just like everyone else.

Colin leaned closer towards her and lowered his voice. ‘Perhaps we should talk about this somewhere more private?’ he suggested.

‘Because I embarrass you?’ Penelope said with a nod, her eyes shining with tears as she smiled up at him, almost as if she could sympathise with his predicament.

Colin’s lips parted. How could she think such a thing? She was always the bright spot at these silly events with the ton. Always.

He could not bear this. He tried to come up with something to say, but he was utterly lost for words.

‘Of course you would never court me,’ Penelope said, sounding almost tearful. ‘I am the laughingstock of the ton, even when I change my entire wardrobe.’

Colin tilted his head at her again, full of pity. Whatever must have happened in that ballroom tonight, he wanted to tell her that she could never have been more wrong, but he didn’t seem able to speak. He looked down, his fingers fidgeting nervously.

And then Penelope said the words that he knew would haunt him for the remainder of his days.

‘It just never occurred to me that you, of all people, could be so cruel.’

Without a backward glance, she then marched away to her waiting carriage. His jaw tightening, Colin turned desperately after her, wanting nothing more than to call after her or follow, but something kept him rooted to the spot, frozen and speechless.

Penelope felt strangely satisfied as she strode away from him, leaving him stood there dumbfounded under the arch. She had been wanting to confront him about that night for months, but never thought she would ever have the nerve to do so. As devastating as the whole matter was, at least she could be proud of herself for plucking up the courage to speak to him honestly for once.

Their friendship could not continue, Penelope was certain of that. He had upset her too deeply. Yes, he had made her feel like nobody else had, in the best possible way, through his kindness towards her over the past few years…but he did not love her, or even remotely regard her as someone who could be loved in such a way. And no matter how much Penelope would prefer to simply pretend everything was all right and wait patiently for his heart to fall for hers, she knew that such a thing was impossible. It was time to finally take him off that pedestal that she had kept him on for so many years.

Besides, even if her fond memories of their friendship might redeem him in the future, he had still forfeited any rights he had to her heart by saying such cruel things about her last season. The wound was too deep, and nothing he could say or do would ever make her forgive him for it. Nothing.

Chapter Text

Colin swallowed uncomfortably as he watched Penelope climb into her carriage and set off back for her house, his gaze forlorn.

He was half-tempted to run after the carriage, but he knew that was not an option; only a madman would do that. Besides, he could find no words to justify what he had done or make excuses, or even come up with some semblance of a decent apology. He was utterly useless in this moment. So, instead, he simply stood there, stunned and utterly bereft, as he watched her leave, the one friend he had always been able to count on – the friend he had betrayed.

Something glistening on the ground then caught his eye. Curious, Colin bent down to pick it up; he recognised it at once as the green jewelled comb that had been fixed in Penelope’s hair. It must have fallen out, or perhaps she had thrown it to the ground in her agitation. He twirled it in his fingers for a moment, feeling incredibly lost. It crushed him to realise that his dearest friend – or so he had thought – could act as if their friendship could be so easily broken, as if they had been nothing to one another. She had acted as if she did not know him anymore, or that she simply wanted to cut him out of her life completely.

Surely one terrible mistake on his part could not lead to such a tragic end of what had been the most wholesome, fulfilling, warm relationship he had ever known?

But then again, perhaps he deserved it. What he had said that night at last season’s ball had been unforgiveable; it had no doubt crushed her, and perhaps even influenced those gentlemen he had been with at the time regarding their thoughts towards Penelope.

Colin groaned loudly and clasped his hands to his face; the fact that Penelope had heard his awful comment kept hitting him like a ton of bricks.

Clearing his throat, he then smoothed down his waistcoat, took a deep breath, and headed slowly back into the ballroom. He felt in a bit of a daze as he made his way back down the stairs, barely even registering Lords Stanton and Haughton trying to get his attention. He had been feeling so smug and confident earlier, and yet right now he had never felt smaller.

Colin had always let his guard down in front of Penelope, and knew he could always rely on her as the one person who knew him truly and supported him in everything. He had been so used to being someone that she cared for, someone he could be entirely himself around, but now she had pulled the rug out from under him, quite rightly so, and he did not know what to do with himself.

How could he have been so careless? So cruel? So stupid? He despised himself for it.

As he wandered around aimlessly, he then noticed that Eloise was pacing in a corner of the ballroom, looking rather distressed. Frowning, Colin approached her.

‘Eloise,’ he said, concerned. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Yes,’ Eloise snapped, and she sighed heavily as she turned to grab a glass of lemonade from the refreshments table.

Colin raised his eyebrows but said nothing more on the matter; she clearly was not going to discuss whatever was bothering her.

Eloise then faltered. ‘Wh-what’s that?’

Colin followed her gaze and saw that he was still holding Penelope’s green headpiece in his hand. He had been clutching onto it so desperately that his hand had grown almost numb and forgotten it was still there.

‘This? Oh, it is nothing,’ Colin said airily, and he tucked the green clip away into his waistcoat pocket.

But he could tell from Eloise’s expression that she recognised it at once. ‘Did you see Penelope?’ she said quietly.

Colin hesitated. ‘I-I did,’ he said eventually, and his voice broke. ‘Do you know what happened to make her leave so early? She was most upset.’ 

‘Uh…Cressida…tore her dress by accident,’ Eloise replied, avoiding his eye contact.

‘Oh, by accident?’ Colin said sceptically, his tone of voice a little sharp, his brow furrowed. ‘Is that why you look so ashamed right now?

Eloise said nothing in response; she merely closed her eyes and looked in the other direction.

Colin was utterly perplexed. When he had asked Eloise earlier today in the house about why Cressida, rather than Penelope, appeared to be her chosen companion now, she had simply replied that she and Penelope had ‘grown apart’. He had wanted to question her more on what exactly had occurred between the two of them, but Eloise had then begun her snide comments on whether this front he was putting on was truly the new him, so Colin had thought better of it.

He could not stay silent on the matter now, though. He could understand why Penelope did not wish to converse with him, but Eloise? What could Eloise possibly have done? The two of them had been inseparable since childhood.

‘What happened between the two of you?’ he asked, frowning.

Eloise looked at him and tilted her head. ‘I could ask you the same question,’ she said, looking both irritated and fascinated as she raised her eyebrows at him. ‘Why was she avoiding you tonight? And at the Livingston’s soirée the other day?’

Colin swallowed. He could not answer that. He was too guilt-ridden enough as it was without admitting to his shameful behaviour from last season.

‘Pardon me, El, I…Lord Stanton is summoning me…uh, yes, I’ll just…’ He trailed off, muttering incoherently, and walked away from her, not really knowing which direction to go in.

‘Good evening, Mr. Bridgerton,’ Miss Livingston said with a playful smile as he trudged past the dance floor.

Colin nodded and smiled but kept on walking, much to the disappointment of Miss Livingston and her eager friends.

He found a tall column, decorated in an exuberant amount of flowers, to hide behind; he stopped beside it and sighed deeply as he turned back and looked over at Eloise, who was looking thoroughly downcast.

It made sense now, why Colin was not the only one who had adopted a new personality and attitude for this season. Eloise wasn’t quite as set on erasing her past self as Colin was, but a bizarre change had definitely come over her, such as her frilly new dresses to match the style of the season, not to mention associating with the likes of Cressida Cowper and other marriage-fixated young ladies. Why had he and his sister succumbed to such pressures of society, when it was not in their character?

The answer, of course, was that they had both lost Penelope.

It was all so blindingly obvious now that he had taken a second to stop and think about it. Penelope had always been so loyal and supportive to them both, and they had taken her for granted. And now, without their dearest friend, he and Eloise had no anchor and were both lost to themselves.

The ball went on until the early hours of the morning, so it was a great relief for the Bridgertons to finally return home and get some much-needed sleep. Unfortunately, sleep did not come for Colin that night. He spent hours tossing and turning in his bed; Penelope’s scathing words and cold, tear-filled glare would not stop haunting him. She had never been like that with him – nor, probably, anyone. But he of course had deserved every bit of it, and more.

He had never felt so terrible in his life. He kept wracking his brains, trying to remember that exact moment from the Featherington Ball last season. He had been on such a high from saving Penelope and her family from that treacherous swindling cousin of theirs, Jack. And he had been so happy after dancing with Penelope to celebrate.

But then Lord Fife had started teasing him about the cosy way in which they had been dancing, and the other gentlemen had laughed as well… and Colin had seen no choice but to shut them down before any unwanted rumours started.

In truth, Colin would have reacted in the same way had Fife said the name of any other lady that night. He had not been thinking of Penelope’s reputation, and he had certainly not been wanting to make fun of her; he had simply wanted to make it clear to all the gentlemen within earshot that the notion of him courting anyone at all was ridiculous, simply to save himself from yet more teasing. He had still not quite recovered from the embarrassment of his failed engagement with Marina Thompson the previous year, after all, and it was the first time he had been put on the spot about that side of his life since that disaster had happened. He had been so unwise and naïve for jumping into such a fast courtship with her, and he had been played the fool, hence why he had vowed to swear off women.

Fife enquiring about the nature of his and Penelope’s relationship at that ball had thrown another spanner in the works. It was the first time that anyone had called Colin out on pushing the boundaries of propriety with Penelope, and he had never considered before how their unusual closeness might look to the ton. Their friendship had always existed in its own little undefined bubble, harmless and sweet and innocent. It had never crossed his mind that anyone could consider the two of them as anything but friends, but that night Fife broke that spell, and Colin had instantly panicked. If gossip were to spread that he might be courting Penelope, then that would have meant he and Penelope could not have continued to be so open about their friendship without the risk of scandal. He’d had to make it seem a highly improbable, even ridiculous notion that there was nothing more between them. Anything to keep up his friendship with Penelope. She was like family to him, after all.

But why had he been so ghastly about it in his response to Fife’s question? Just to be ‘one of the crowd’? He should have risen to Penelope’s defence and reprimanded them all for laughing at her. Instead, he had laughed right along with them. What sort of man was he, to do such a thing?

He might very well have lost the best friend he had ever had because of his need to simply ‘fit in’ with those other men. And he would never be able to forgive himself for that.

***

Colin emerged from his bedchamber late that morning, feeling exhausted and like he had lost his balance. He made his way to the family drawing room to find it empty apart from Kate, who was preparing a pot of tea for herself in the corner.

‘Ah, good morning, Kate,’ Colin greeted with a smile. ‘Are you well?’

Kate smiled back at him. ‘I am very well, thank you, Colin. I have much paperwork to attend to, so I am just making myself some chai before I return to my study.’

‘Of course. Has Anthony already left?’

‘Yes, he had some early meetings at Parliament, I am afraid.’

Colin stifled a yawn. ‘God, he must be tired.’

‘Quite. He did not get much sleep last night,’ Kate said with a twitch of her lips as she busied herself with her cup of tea, and then she blushed and added hastily, ‘B-because of the ball, of course.’

‘Of course,’ Colin said, trying not to smirk. ‘How did you enjoy your first ball as Viscountess?’

‘It was most enjoyable, thank you,’ Kate said warmly, but then she frowned. ‘What about you? You seemed a little troubled last night.’

‘Did I?’ Colin said in an airy, high-pitched voice; he’d very much hoped that his wretched state of mind towards the end of the ball had gone unnoticed.

Kate put down her teacup and simply looked at him.

Colin chuckled softly to himself, exasperated. She hadn’t even been married to his brother for a year, and yet already it was as if Kate had been part of the family since the very beginning; she could read every single one of them like an open book.

Sighing, he nodded at her. ‘I have…upset Penelope Featherington,’ he said heavily. ‘I made an…unforgivable comment about her last season, which it transpires she overheard.’

‘Ah, I see,’ Kate said, her brow furrowed in understanding. ‘The two of you have been friends for quite some time, have you not?’

‘Since childhood, yes,’ Colin said, with a brief smile. ‘Well, adolescence, I suppose.’

‘Well then, I am certain she will forgive you. Such bonds like that are hard to break forever,’ Kate said, a wistful look on her face; Colin knew that she was thinking of her younger sister Edwina in that moment.

‘I certainly hope you are right,’ Colin said, though his voice sounded doubtful, and he exhaled deeply. ‘I just…I wish I knew what I could do to make amends. I do not want to lose her friendship.’

Kate smiled at him sympathetically. ‘She means a great deal to you,’ she said gently.

‘Yes, she does,’ Colin murmured, his gaze turning softer as the truth of his words resonated with him. ‘A very great deal.’

‘Then I suggest telling her that yourself,’ Kate said decisively, walking over to him. ‘Go to her. This very day, in fact. I have learnt myself how it does no good to keep one’s feelings bottled up for too long. Seek her out and be honest with her.’

Colin eyed his sister-in-law warily. It would not be right for him to call at Featherington House on his own, particularly when Penelope had made it very clear that she did not wish for his company.

But he had no choice. He had to fight for her. For their friendship. Nothing had ever been more important.

Colin smiled and nodded firmly at Kate. ‘You are right. I must go to her at once,’ he said, and he turned to hurry out of the drawing room to change into some better clothes, but then paused and turned back to her. ‘Thank you, Kate. I do hope my brother knows how lucky he is to have you.’

Kate smiled back at him. ‘I am quite certain he does,’ she said fondly.

Grinning back at her, Colin then dashed away, a flicker of hope rising within him. He would be able to set things right. He had to. There was no other option he could foresee. If he did not, and he had lost Penelope’s good favour forever, then trying to tackle the rest of this season would be utterly pointless, for what possible enjoyment could Colin get out of a social season without his loyal, beloved friend right by his side?

***

The large garden at the back of Featherington House was an idyllic retreat from the bustling streets of Mayfair. Neatly trimmed hedges and large, vibrant flowerbeds framed the space, and the air was filled with the sweet fragrance of blooming roses, honeysuckle and lavender. Butterflies and birds flitted around, while a gentle breeze rustled the leaves and set the flowers swaying.

Penelope was sat amongst this haven of tranquillity on a cushioned, wrought-iron bench. Her mind, usually so occupied with the intrigues and dramas of London society, found a rare sense of peace and contentment here that was hard to find in the glittering ballrooms and drawing rooms of the ton. The garden was her refuge; here, when alone and surrounded by nature, she could simply be herself, free from the expectations, judgements and pressures that so often weighed upon her.

Unfortunately, even the peace and quiet of this beautiful garden could not free her from her crippling self-doubt.

She was fanning herself somewhat frantically as she gazed over at the flowers; even though it was not a particularly warm day, she felt rather hot and bothered after last night. Her hopeful attempt at taking the ton by storm with her new look at the ball had not gone as planned; instead, she had embarrassed herself in front of quite a few gentlemen who would no doubt spread tale of her disappointing ways, been publicly humiliated by Cressida , and also lost her temper and given Colin a peace of her mind. She could not find it in herself to regret that last part, though she knew good manners dictated that she ought to.

Penelope had hoped that, upon waking this morning, she would feel determined to learn from her mistakes and be ready to seize the next opportunity with confidence. Alas, instead she felt incredibly uneasy about the rest of the social season’s events. Indeed, she already felt suffocated by the prospect of the endless parade of balls and parties, stifling etiquette, tiresome conversations, and unsettling gentlemen. It was all just so intimidating.

‘You have a visitor, miss,’ then came a soft voice, interrupting her reverie.

Penelope looked up to see Rae stood there near the tree. Her hand holding the fan faltered as she saw a tall man in a long, brown coat step out from behind Rae.

Her heart both sank and began to thud rapidly. What on earth was he doing here?

Colin swallowed as he stepped forward. He had never felt anxious about going to see Penelope before – indeed, Penelope was the one person who had always made him feel perfectly at ease, perhaps even more so than his own family – but his hands and shoulders had been tense and twitchy ever since entering the Featherington grounds into the garden: the scene of the crime itself. 

Penelope was sat on a bench by herself, and she looked most enchanting – clearly, her gown and styling last night had not been a one-time occasion, for today she was continuing with her new look, this time wearing a light sage green dress, with her hair pinned and styled elegantly. But her expression was not one of warmth or joy when she clapped eyes on him approaching; he hadn’t expected it to be, but it was still a punch to the gut to see his closest friend look at him in such a way.

Rae stepped to the side and glanced up at Colin anxiously as he came to a stop before Penelope.

‘I am sorry for intruding,’ he said.

Penelope gazed over at him. She wasn’t sure what he could possibly have to say to make any of this better. But…he had come to speak with her. It was only right that she give him that chance, now that her temper had calmed down after the unfortunate event with Cressida at the ball last night.

She swallowed and nodded rather nervously at Rae. ‘It’s all right,’ she said to her.

Colin turned rather pointedly towards Rae; he wanted to be alone with Penelope, without the judgement of her maid, who, from the way she was dubiously regarding him, clearly seemed to know of his dreadful behaviour at last season’s ball.

He nodded at her, and Rae withdrew, casting a somewhat suspicious glance over at the pair of them as she left them to it.

Colin turned back to face Penelope; she had a stony expression on her face once more, her gaze fixed ahead of her.

‘And I am very sorry for my callous comment here last year,’ he said sincerely, taking a few steps towards her as a wry smile crossed Penelope’s face. ‘It pains me to see you upset.’

‘Then perhaps you should not have come,’ Penelope said quietly, glancing up at him and then almost just as quickly avoiding his gaze.

It was hard to concentrate on staying furious with him when he was looking so particularly handsome. Every new outfit she had seen him in since the start of the season was so manly and modern in comparison to what he had worn before – the colours were darker, the fits were tighter, there were less ruffles and frills, and the collars were rather open-necked so that his chiselled jawline was on full display.

She couldn’t stand him. How dare he look so good?

Colin swallowed as he watched her look down and nervously fidget with her fan. He could not bear this. He hadn’t slept a wink all through the night, for his mind hadn’t stopped dwelling on those words Penelope had spoken to him outside Danbury House. Even though he had come here with a plan, he still found himself at a loss with what he could possibly say about his actions at last season’s ball.

There was no point in trying to make up an excuse that he had been drunk or put on the spot. He needed to take responsibility for what he had done, or she would never be able to trust him again. She was not his little friend anymore; Colin could see that now. She had grown up, just like he had, and needed to be treated as such. Not only that, but she was also his safe space, his family. She felt like home. And he had to show her that.

Colin took another step towards her. ‘I am not the man I was last season. And I am most certainly not ashamed of you, Pen,’ he said earnestly, his voice breaking slightly and his gaze imploring as he tried to get her to listen and look him in the eye. ‘The-the opposite is true, in fact. I seek you out at every social assembly because I know you will lift my spirits and make me see the world in ways I could not have imagined.’

Penelope’s bottom lip twitched with emotion as he spoke, and she slowly looked up to meet his gaze, though she had been determined to avoid his eye contact. She had never seen him look more sincere, or more desperate.

Colin felt almost desperate as they locked eyes. He adored her. He simply adored her, and he wished he could make her see just how much. She had been on his mind so often while he had been away on his travels. He would walk through fire for her if that was what it took to win back her friendship. Penelope had been his constant touchstone, ever since late childhood, and he couldn’t lose her, he just couldn’t.

‘You are clever…and warm and...’ He trailed off; he had wanted to say ‘beautiful’ as well, but then realised just in time that friends did not say such things to one another.

He shook his head, as if overwhelmed. There were too many words, and not enough hours in the day, to proclaim all the wonderful things Penelope was.

So, he simply finished with: ‘I am proud to call you my very good friend.’

Penelope heard the words, and she wanted so desperately to believe them, for to hear the man she had loved for so long say such wonderful things about her was like a dream come true. But it did not erase what he had said in this very garden last season. Nothing could erase that. And yet…his words were not empty, she could see that. He was a kind person, taking accountability, and trying to be a better friend. Or was that just her being weak, for seeing all the good in him still? She couldn’t be sure.

A part of her wanted him to grovel more, perhaps to even beg. She needed proof that her friendship was as important to him as he claimed it was. But Penelope was too tired for all of that. It was too much of an effort, trying to ignore and avoid him and pretend she did not care. Because she did care, even still. No matter how hard she tried, she could never hate Colin. He would always mean the world to her, and his name would always be engraved on her heart. That was simply a way of the world for Penelope Featherington, and there was no point in her trying to deny it any longer.

Her eyes glistened and her lips trembled as she continued to gaze up at him. ‘It has been vexing…watching you walk back into society with such ease,’ she said in a small, strained voice.

Colin frowned and averted his gaze uncomfortably; if only she knew just how much that were not the case. Clearly, he must have been putting on such a good act that even Penelope believed it.

‘When every year, I pray I might finally feel that way amidst the marriage mart, and that comfort never materialises,’ she went on, shaking her head and looking down at her lap.

Colin’s frown grew more prominent as his eyes darted back and forth. It had never crossed his mind before that Penelope would want to get married, which of course had been rather stupid of him. Why wouldn’t she?

At that moment, it felt as if something had clicked in his brain, and an idea struck. An impulsive and reckless one, yes, but an idea nonetheless. Perhaps even a chance for redemption.

‘Well…if a husband is what you seek,’ Colin said, sitting down beside her on the bench, ‘then…let me help you.’

Penelope frowned at him incredulously. ‘Help me how?’ she asked, running her eyes up and down his handsome face.

Her voice was more mature somehow, perhaps slightly deeper – less like a young nervous girl, more like a woman. It was her true voice, Colin realised.

‘I was in seventeen cities this summer, and what I have learned…is that charm can be taught,’ he said with a playful flicker of eyebrows, his voice brimming with confidence.

Penelope felt somewhat exasperated. It was so very hard to concentrate on what he was saying when his knee was brushed against her dress like that – did he really have no concept of personal space?! – and when he was smiling at her with that crooked grin and cheeky glint in his eyes.

‘Colin, I cannot have you with me, whispering into my ear in every ballroom,’ she said.

The moment she said the words, she began imagining such a scenario in spite of herself, and she blinked rather rapidly. She could picture it so vividly, Colin stood far too close beside her in a darkened corner of a candlelit ballroom, his mouth close to her ear as he whispered advice on how to seduce and charm. It was a very tempting vision, she could not lie.

‘You will not need that,’ Colin said, and Penelope tried to break free of her daydream as she met his gaze, blushing slightly. ‘We will have lessons. And you will quickly master them, I am certain.’

Her sky-blue eyes searched his face in somewhat of a daze. He looked positively alight at this bizarre idea that he had concocted on the spot. It was quite mad, and most improper, and yet he did not seem to be thinking about any of that. His smile and eyes were so hopeful as he gazed at Penelope that it was hard for her to resist his ridiculous plan, even though she knew that such ‘lessons’ would mean being too close to Colin again…that, no matter what limits she would set, it would still be dangerous for her heart.

Colin leaned slightly closer towards her. ‘There is nothing more I want than to earn back the favour of the one person who has always, truly made me feel…appreciated,’ he said, his tone earnest.

Colin meant every word and more. She inspired him. She encouraged him. She would never forsake him. Hopefully she still even cared for him, despite his vile behaviour from last season.

Penelope’s heart was racing at a speed she could not even comprehend as she gazed back into his bewitching eyes.

Well, what could she possibly say to all that? How could she still resent him? How could she not fold, when he knew precisely the right things to say and do to win her back?

Colin gazed at her for perhaps a moment longer than he ought to have done, but he could not help it; her enchanting eyes, her pink lips, her rosy cheeks, her clear skin that looked like melted butter…she was stunning. How had he, or anyone else for that matter, never seen it before?

Suddenly realising just how close he was to her on the bench, Colin rose to his feet, and then extended his hand towards her.

‘What do you say?’ he said.

Penelope eyed his outstretched hand in bemusement. ‘You want me to shake your hand?’ she asked, raising her eyebrows.

‘Well, it is perhaps…unusual, but…are we not friends?’

His tone had been playful until those last four words, at which point he turned hopeful, perhaps even fearful. He was so desperate for her to say yes.

Colin knew that not all was forgiven and forgotten, and it would take a great deal from him to win back her trust and affection, but he was willing to do whatever it would take. Anything to have his friend back.

Penelope gazed up at him for a moment, then glanced down at her lap. She wished that she was stronger, that she was able to resist.

But damn it, his words and his gaze were too powerful.

It was hopeless. This man had stepped up as the protector of her family when her father had died, he protected her from the bullies, he listened to her more than anyone else, he was desperate to still be in her life, and he seemed to truly care. And Penelope knew that she simply had no choice but to take him back. In truth, she had known deep down that she would take him back from the moment she had seen him appear in the garden.

Penelope stood and held out her small, ungloved hand. She tentatively placed it in his to shake; Colin took it, unfolding her hand in his.

A spark shot through her the moment his skin touched hers; neither of them were wearing gloves. Penelope and Colin stared at their intertwined hands for a moment, and then looked up. Their eyes met, and butterflies instantly formed in Penelope’s stomach. It was quite scandalous, really, to hold hands in such a way, but Colin seemed to neither notice nor care; his gaze was too intently fixed upon hers, waiting hopefully for a reply.

Penelope managed a small, nervous nod. ‘Friends,’ she said softly, unable to tear her gaze from his, and she gulped.

Colin knew, the moment she spoke that splendid word, that the most important thing for him this season was to stick to his word and prioritise his friendship with Penelope above all else. He would never let her down again. He would help her, and ensure that she smiled and shined and achieved her heart’s desire this season. He would be by her side, and she would always be able to count on him, of that he was absolutely determined.

What were friends for, after all?

A warm, happy smile crossed Colin’s face as he gazed back at her. He felt almost tempted to kiss the top of her hand, as he was so giddy by the fact that she was now looking at him with fondness again, rather than distaste. He thought better of it, though, and simply placed his other hand around hers.

He leaned even closer towards her, barely giving Penelope a chance to breathe. ‘I shall see you soon,’ he said in a low, warm voice.

Giving her hand a squeeze, he then let go and leaned away; Penelope inhaled giddily as he then strode off with a smile, his long brown coat sweeping out behind him.

Penelope took a few steps after him by instinct, suddenly realising that she did not wish for him to leave so soon now that he was back in her good graces, but Rae was already showing him towards the back gate so that he could leave the grounds. Penelope watched them go, blinking rapidly, as the sun slowly began to peep out from behind the clouds.

A little dazed by the conversation that had just occurred, Penelope slowly turned around, a small sigh of contentment escaping her mouth. She took a deep breath and tilted her head back, closing her eyes as she let the warm glow of the sun wash over her alabaster skin.

She had been feeling so lonely up until now, and it was such a relief – a feeling of euphoria, even – to have one of her friends back in her life. She had missed Colin so terribly, and had thought when she had first seen him at the beginning of this season that he had been forever changed. It was good to know that she was wrong, that the sweet and earnest Colin she knew was still intact, and that – even though she had sworn to herself she could never reconcile with him after last season’s ball – their friendship could resume as if nothing had changed.

Penelope opened her eyes again, and a giddy smile spread on her pink lips. She exhaled shakily, as if overwhelmed, then chuckled softly to herself in disbelief as she thought back over all Colin had said just now…the way she meant enough for him to come and make amends, the sincerity with which he had pleaded for things to return to the way they had once been between them, the way he had leaned close to her, the way his knee had brushed hers, the charming smile on his face as he had looked at her, the way his bare hands had clasped hers…

No, stop it. Be realistic.

She couldn’t let herself be caught up in any platonic moments of affection between them. Deep inside, she would always still be waiting and hoping that love might start to grow in his heart for her, even though nothing of the sort would ever happen. He would never see her that way, and that was fine. Penelope was used to it. Her childish, unrequited fantasy of Colin was a lost cause, and she had finally managed to accept that now. But they were friends again and she had a glimpse of hope for a happy ending if he were to successfully help her find a match this season. She had to take solace in that.

Perhaps this new phase of their friendship marked a different chapter. One in which Colin could help her move on and find someone else, someone who would actually return her affections. It was improbable, yes – but not impossible.

‘Is that Whistledown?’

Penelope’s face instantly fell as she overheard some of the servants excitedly gossiping near the garden.

Lady Whistledown? Not now, surely? What had last night’s article even been about? She had been in such an angry state when she had written it and delivered it to Genevieve to be sent on to the printers’…

And then she remembered. How she had returned home from the ball in a fit of rage. How she had furiously scribbled away, snapping quills and blotching ink all over the parchment in her desperation to pour out her anger the best way she knew how.

Oh, God.

Exhaling shakily, Penelope ran into the house as fast as she could.

‘No, no, no, no, no,’ she whispered to herself anxiously as she climbed the stairs, even though she knew deep down that there was no point in stressing about it now – the damage had already been done.

She hastened to the family drawing room where, as she feared, she found her sisters perusing the latest Lady Whistledown paper.

‘Whistledown has come early,’ Penelope said breathlessly, reaching to snatch the pamphlet, but Prudence grabbed it back.

‘I am reading it, are you mad?’ Prudence said sourly, turning her attention back to the paper.

Philippa, who was resting her arms on the settee behind her sister, eyed Penelope. ‘You of all people would be quite interested in today’s issue, Penelope,’ she said, and Penelope tilted her head at her sharply, her hand clutching her stomach as she tried to remain calm. ‘Lady Whistledown has a good deal to say about your precious Bridgertons. Colin, in fact.’

Penelope did not like the smug smirk on Philippa’s face. She and Prudence had always suspected that Penelope held a torch for Colin, and they had always thought her a fool for it.

Penelope looked at them both, unimpressed. ‘Whatever she has said about him, she is wrong,’ she said firmly.

She then turned and walked away from them, leaving them to squabble and giggle as they always did. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists as she marched agitatedly along the corridor, trying to keep her breathing under control in front of the footmen standing at attention.

By the time she reached her bedchamber, she could barely control herself anymore. She reached for a pillow on her bed, buried her face into it and screamed in frustration. She then marched over to her writing desk and kicked the chair aggressively.

‘Damn it!’ she yelled, clutching her ankle.

The door then swung open, and Portia came marching in, looking alarmed.

‘What is this?’ Portia demanded in horror. ‘Penelope, what has come over you?’

Penelope staggered away from the desk, flustered. ‘N-nothing, I just…’ she said breathlessly, clutching a hand to her pounding head. ‘I-I am not myself, my courses have come, that is all. My apologies, Mama.’

Portia looked at her incredulously. ‘You must control your emotions, Penelope,’ she said. ‘It is undignified to express yourself in such a way. I thought you wanted to be seen as a lady this season.’

Shaking her head at her daughter exasperatedly, Portia then swept from the room.

Penelope stared after her for a moment, seething, then sank heavily onto her chair, cursing herself and her quill for ruining things yet again.

***

Colin strode across the square from Featherington House back to his family home with an extra bounce in his step. He felt elated and overcome with relief.

What did it matter that he hadn’t fully thought through the risky implications of his and Penelope’s new arrangement? He had his friend back in his life. That was all that mattered right now.

Colin entered the Bridgerton House foyer, feeling rather pleased with himself, when he noticed Eloise stood with her back to him, her eyes glued to a paper in her hands.

‘Good afternoon, Sister,’ he greeted.

The moment she heard his voice, Eloise put down the paper and spun around to face him, looking as if she had been caught out.

‘Brother!’ she said breezily, and she forced an uncomfortable smile. ‘’Afternoon. Where were you?’

‘Nowhere,’ Colin replied – he did not want to make matters worse with Eloise and Penelope, whatever the issues were between them – and he frowned at her curiously. ‘What are you reading?’

‘Nothing,’ Eloise said quickly, grimacing.

Colin frowned and tilted his head at her. She truly was the worst liar he had ever come across.

A guilty expression crossed her face at once, and Colin held out his hand.

Eloise reluctantly held out the paper. ‘Whistledown,’ she said. ‘You are…mentioned.’

Colin felt his stomach do an uncomfortable flip. He slowly took the paper from her and began to read.

Dearest Gentle Reader,

When the tide of change turns, it can be sudden, fierce, and deadly. Especially for the unprepared. It seems to this author that our bon ton is moving with the changing tide, to be sure, while others cling firmly to that which they already know; none more so than our Queen, who has still yet to choose a Diamond.

This author wonders if her hesitancy is a symptom of fortitude or fear. If it is the latter, pride in past achievements will not benefit her, as our debutantes are ready to play this season. Your serve, Your Majesty. Dare I say, this author is ready to play as well. I do not fear change. I embrace it.

And then there are some who take the embrace of change a step too far, as with Mr. Colin Bridgerton, who seems to have embraced a new personality entirely. But one must wonder, is this new character the real him, or simply a ploy for attention? And does Mr. Bridgerton even know?

Trying to maintain a neutral expression, Colin looked away from the paper, and Eloise cleared her throat uncomfortably as he set it down on the table.

‘How are you?’ she asked.

Colin tuned to her, somewhat touched by her concern. ‘I do not care what Lady Whistledown writes about me,’ he replied, though he wasn’t sure if he believed his words. ‘But ruining Miss Thompson – I mean, Lady Crane – and then nearly ruining you last season...’

Eloise looked down, as if trying to brush it off as nothing. But it was not nothing. Colin hadn’t fully contemplated it until this very moment, but it was terrible what Eloise had been put through. And all courtesy of this nasty gossip-writer.

‘I will never forgive her,’ he said firmly.

He began to walk away, but Eloise called after him and he stopped and turned back to face her.

‘Do you...have any idea who she might be?’ she asked, looking deeply troubled for some reason.

A steely expression fell on Colin’s face. ‘I do not. But trust me, if I ever find out, I will make sure it is her life that is ruined,’ he said determinedly, and with that he marched away, leaving Eloise alone and frightened in the foyer.

Colin swore under his breath as he reached his bedchamber and removed his long brown coat. He had truly never felt more rattled.

This Lady Whistledown, whoever the blasted woman was, saw right through him. She knew it was all false, all just an act. And it was that, as much as all her sins from her previous scandal sheets, that enraged him so much. He had managed to fool what seemed to be all the ton, but not her.

Who could she possibly be to know him so well?

Time would only tell, but Colin was certain that the malicious writer would be caught eventually, and her identify unveiled to the ton. And he knew that he, for one, could not wait to see the tragic fall of the almighty Lady Whistledown.

Chapter Text

A hesitant smile was forming on Penelope’s face as she gazed at her reflection in the long mirror before her. She was starting to experience a feeling not that familiar to her – was it hope? Happiness? Pride? Maybe even…confidence?

Quite a few days had passed since the latest unfortunate issue of Lady Whistledown had been published, and luckily any talk of what she had written about Colin had since died down; the good thing about the social season was that there were plenty more new and interesting titbits to discuss every single day. So, Penelope’s guilt had somewhat subsided, and she had refocussed her attentions on adjusting to the new contents of her wardrobe in preparation for her upcoming ‘lessons’ to secure a suitor.

She felt that her gown and gloves that she had worn at the Four Seasons Ball had not been quite right – the colours had been too dark, the style too daring, the overall look just not quite her and a little too far from her comfort zone. But now, she knew exactly what she wanted. And she was looking directly at it in the mirror.

Genevieve had provided her with a better-fitting, two-piece corset to give Penelope an hourglass shape, which had completely changed her posture, and the waistline of her dresses had been dropped a few inches into a more contoured silhouette. Penelope couldn’t believe what the world of a difference this made; it accentuated her womanly figure, a figure she hadn’t even known she possessed. She made a mental note to thank Genevieve later.

Rae was currently helping with the finishing touches to Penelope’s pale green frock; she smiled warmly at Penelope as she tidied up her sleeves and hair, and Penelope beamed back.

Mrs. Varley then entered Penelope’s bedchamber and eyed her appraisingly as Penelope smoothed down her gown and stared wide-eyed at her reflection in the mirror.

‘I am glad your mama let you keep your dresses,’ Mrs. Varley said approvingly, and she gazed into the mirror in awe. ‘A looking glass does not lie.’

Her smile grew, and Penelope smiled back at her; it was rare for Mrs. Varley to take her side over her mother’s, and it was nice to have not just support, but genuine admiration, from the household staff regarding her new efforts in her appearance.

Mrs. Varley then left the room and Penelope couldn’t help beaming, even giggling, at the sight of herself in the mirror. It was quite possibly the first time she had taken in her reflection without wincing. There was not a single shade of yellow nor garish broach or embellishment to be found.

For the first time in her life, she looked lovely – perhaps, even…dare she say it…pretty. At least, she sincerely hoped she did.

Penelope had never much liked her body or her face before – particularly when surrounded by tall, glamorous, stick-figured beauties draped in elegant, pastel-coloured silks and satins at every single social event – but now she could see that it had been her mother’s tastes that had been inflicted upon her that been the problem, not her actual self.

Who was that girl in front of her? With that dress, that hair, and that smile? She could hardly believe it was real, but, like Mrs. Varley had said, the mirror did not lie.

She was finally dressing like herself. Not the person her mother wanted her to be. Herself. And she had never felt more comfortable or more empowered.

Patting her hair self-consciously, Penelope then moved to open the drawer of her writing desk and check the note the footman had delivered to her yesterday morning, even though she had read it countless times since and now practically knew it off by heart:

Dear Pen,

Would you care to join me at Rotten Row tomorrow afternoon? It is the perfect locale for a promenade, and for suitors, of course. Consider it our first ‘lesson’ of sorts, like we discussed the other day.

Do come with an open heart, for I am certain that, with a little guidance and a touch of confidence, you shall soon have the most eligible gentlemen of the ton vying for your hand.

If you are otherwise unoccupied, might I suggest we meet at the southern entrance at two o’clock?

Let me know your answer when you can. I very much look forward to next seeing you.

Yours ever,

Colin

Penelope smiled down at Colin’s note, her heart racing. It took her a few moments to realise that Rae was watching her, a knowing glint in her eyes.

Penelope blinked rather rapidly and stuffed the note away. ‘I-I was just checking I had the correct time for today,’ she said.

‘Yes, miss,’ Rae said, nodding and trying not to smile.

Penelope felt rather nervous about informing her mother of her outing to Rotten Row to ‘get a little fresh air’, but luckily Portia was too preoccupied stressing over her other two daughters, who were engaged in a game of throwing grapes for their husbands to catch in their mouths, to care or even register what Penelope was saying. So, Penelope and Rae were able to quietly retreat from the house to meet Colin in the park as arranged without much notice.

Rotten Row, the famed thoroughfare of Hyde Park and a favourite promenade for the ton, was a wide, tree-lined avenue, bustling with the season’s fashionable elite. Noble men and women went along the path, either strolling leisurely or trotting along on their horses, mingling and gossiping as always. The air was filled with the soft murmur of genteel conversation, punctuated by the occasional laughter and the rhythmic clopping of hooves on the well-trodden path. The morning had started off rather grey and cloudy, but the clouds seemed to part the moment Penelope and Rae arrived in the park, and the sun was now shining down on them.

As Penelope walked along the path to find Colin at their agreed meeting place, Rae following close behind her, she noticed that a few people were glancing her way. They were clearly confused by ‘that Featherington girl’, practically unrecognisable without her usual display of a bulky, bright yellow gown, excessive floral and butterfly ornaments and jewellery, and piled-up ringlets of frizzy hair.

Penelope couldn’t help grinning as she continued walking. It was quite fun, she realised, to enjoy being a woman who looked nice for a change. Indeed, she felt proud of her curvy silhouette, of the way her new corset changed the way her hips moved, her more feminine gait, her new elegant hairstyle, her curled eyelashes and rosy cheeks, and her beautiful dress. She felt like she was floating on air.

And it was not just her new look that made her feel so uncharacteristically happy. She was excited to see Colin, begrudgingly forgiven for his sin from last season’s ball of course, and begin their first ‘lesson’, as he put it, that would hopefully lead her to a much better life.

She did not have any friends to go out and socialise with now that she had lost Eloise, and she could not very well take up all Genevieve’s time at the Modiste when she had a very busy business to run, so Colin was really all she had in terms of people to see during the day. Most people did not care to understand and know her, and believed her to be an impossible case amongst the ton. But not Colin. He knew her, and wanted to spend his free time helping her, and she knew – particularly after his rather scandalous escapades abroad, from the sound of things – that he would have a lot of new worldly experience and knowledge to pass onto her when it came to matters of courtship and suitors.

No wonder she was getting so excited just to simply talk to him – and also, if she was being completely honest with herself, to show off this particularly fetching dress of hers.

The clouds completely dispersed just as Colin himself emerged on the path and strode towards her with a happy expression on his face, as if he was seeing today’s outing as something he was very much looking forward to rather than a chore or a favour for a friend. He looked so majestic and handsome, with his long brown coat, his well-tailored fancy new clothes, and his hair…Penelope could simply not get over his hair. How curly and luscious it was. It was mesmerising.

‘Good morning, Pen,’ Colin said brightly, and Penelope smiled warmly back at him as she joined him on the path, ‘another nice dress, I see.’

He was still not used to her new attire; indeed, he had to tear his gaze away, lest Penelope or anyone in the vicinity thought he was staring inappropriately. She wore a flashing pale green dress, complete with a delicate fan and reticule, with her hair neatly curled and styled to the side. The gown that she was wearing today was much simpler compared to her previous outfits, and shaped in a way that showed off her natural curves. Indeed, it seemed her entire silhouette had changed to enhance her body and waist.

She was certainly no longer a girl. She was a woman – a woman in want of a husband, and a woman who clearly meant business.

Penelope smiled, pleased by his compliment. ‘Oh…err, thank you. Madame Delacroix has been very kind since I returned to London,’ she said, feeling her cheeks redden slightly as they began to stroll side by side along the path by the water.

‘Mmm. I must say, I am surprised your mother was willing to purchase gowns of such different colours and styles for you,’ Colin said.

‘I purchased them with my own pin money,’ Penelope admitted, and Colin raised his eyebrows at her in admiration. ‘I was getting rather tired of my mama’s…tastes.’

Colin had an awed smile on his face. ‘Penelope Featherington, a rebel. Impressive,’ he said, and Penelope pressed her lips together as she tried not to grin. ‘For what it’s worth, I always quite liked the yellow.’

‘Oh, Colin, stop,’ Penelope said with a roll of her eyes, feeling almost like hitting him with her fan.

‘I am serious,’ Colin said, chuckling at her reaction, ‘it is a very warm colour that I always associate with you whenever I see it, ever since we first met.’

Penelope frowned as they kept on walking, her lips twitching. ‘I am not sure whether to be horrified by that or flattered.’

‘Why, the latter, of course,’ Colin said, and as they both turned to one another he smiled – perhaps too much of a flirtatious smile, for he then swallowed and asked: ‘Do you not have your maid with you?’

‘Rae is just behind,’ Penelope said, and Colin looked over his shoulder to see Penelope’s maid traipsing along the path, around ten or so paces behind them. ‘I told her it would not be necessary for her to stay quite so close.’

Colin nodded approvingly. ‘Quite right. It is only us, after all.’

Penelope’s smile faltered. ‘Yes. Quite,’ she said shortly.

A small silence fell as they continued to stroll along the path, taking in the pleasant sunny weather and calming breeze. It really was a beautiful day for a promenade.

‘So…how do we begin?’ Penelope asked, glancing at him softly as they walked, and then her eyes lit up hopefully. ‘Oh, perhaps there is a book I might read on charm?’

Colin smiled as he looked over at the lake; trust Penelope to always rely on a book. ‘Are you certain you want my help after what Lady Whistledown wrote?’ he asked, his face falling as he stared down glumly at the ground.

Penelope felt her heart skip a beat in horror; she had hoped that Colin would not have cared at all about that idiotic paper she’d had published the other day, that he would have risen above it and thought it nothing but silly nonsense. To know that it had in fact bothered him, or at least resonated with him enough to lower his confidence somewhat, made Penelope feel guiltier than ever.

‘She has never been more wrong about anyone,’ she said, her voice firm. ‘Let us pay her no heed.’

‘Indeed. Sooner or later, she will be caught, and we shall dance on the day of her demise,’ Colin said, leaning towards her with a brief grin.

Penelope met his gleeful gaze and forced a smile, though her discomfort was as plain as the nose on her face. To hear Colin speak of her alter-ego in such a manner was painful, but she knew deep down that she deserved it after what she had written of him and Eloise.

At least she did not have to be fearful of his words coming true; she would never be caught. Never.

‘Now, no more talk of books,’ Colin said decisively as they walked along. ‘If you are to secure a match, you must engage in real life. I should like to see your skills as they are first.’

Penelope was silent for a moment as she tried to take in what she was saying, then she glanced up at him anxiously. ‘But I have none.’

Colin turned to look at her, his eyes surreptitiously glancing her up and down. How could she possibly venture outside looking as lovely as that, in such a flattering gown and with such alluring hair, and not think she had any skills? It was disheartening for him to realise just how low her self-esteem was, even with her new look, and he could safely assume her mother and sisters were to blame for that.

‘You know how to wave your fan. Flutter your lashes,’ Colin said encouragingly; he had seen evidence of this in her garden just the other day. ‘Often, that is all it takes. Men are…quite simple beings.’

Penelope may not be able to see it yet, but Colin knew it was all very simple, really. He had proudly learnt some new tricks while abroad, and he was more than happy to pass them on to his beloved friend. All one needed to do was create a new persona to get the outcome one desired. It had worked for him, after all.

They slowly came to a halt as Penelope turned towards him. ‘Well, I just s-suppose I can show you, I...’ she said, uncomfortable at the mere prospect, as she glanced back and forth between the fan in her hand and Colin.

‘Not me,’ Colin said, and he leaned closely towards her as he indicated three noblemen conversing on the grass nearby. ‘Them.’

Without saying another word, Colin then began to amble over towards the small group of gentlemen. Panicked, Penelope followed, her short legs struggling to keep up with his long strides, and she opened her fan.

‘Gentlemen,’ Colin greeted them loudly, and he came to a stop before them all, with Penelope beaming rather inanely at his side as she held up her fan. ‘I believe you know Miss Featherington.’

The three men turned expectantly to Penelope.

Penelope instantly felt nauseous and chuckled softly. ‘How delightful to see you all,’ she said, swaying where she stood as she leaned towards Colin, an unnaturally wide smile plastered on her face as she batted her eyelashes and waved her fan. ‘Such-such splendid weather we are having!’

Colin’s smile faltered as he watched her fanning herself frantically before them, a frozen smile on her face. He had never seen anyone look more uncomfortable or out of their depth; indeed, she was so breathless and anxious that she looked as if she might faint from nerves. But even then, despite all that…he could not help feeling both charmed and endeared by her.

Lord Wilding frowned at Penelope in concern, clearly somewhat disturbed by her erratic conduct. ‘Miss Featherington,’ he said, ‘you seem…discomposed.’

‘No!’ Penelope said at once, her beam faltering, and Colin watched her, trying not to wince, as she stammered away. ‘And, if you forgive me, I am quite well, my lord.’

A rather startling laugh then escaped her mouth. Colin noticed Lord Wilding exchange a look with one of his friends; they clearly thought she was a little strange or hysterical.

Penelope groaned, wanting nothing more than to disappear through the ground at this exact moment. It was bad enough making a fool of herself in front of yet another group of lords, but to do so in front of Colin, of all people, was something else entirely. Could the humiliation get any worse?

Colin glanced at her and tried to give her a reassuring smile, though she could tell from the strained look in his eyes that it was not genuine. He was just as baffled by her odd behaviour as she was. It was as if the true Penelope had disappeared the moment they had stepped off the path to greet these gentlemen, and a new person had taken her place – a person very much unequipped to deal with social interactions.

Colin did not know what to do or think. He knew Penelope was unpractised in the art of wooing, as she had never really tried to converse with gentlemen much before, but he hadn’t expected that she would be this awkward and…well, bemusing. She was trying to be someone she was not, which was something Colin had instinctively thought would help her as it had helped him, but now he could see that such a tactic was far from helpful – on the contrary, it was the main problem.

Colin tried to be encouraging when the men made their excuses to leave and walked hastily away, but Penelope was absolutely mortified.

‘That was an utter disaster,’ Penelope said, resting against the ancient oak tree nearby and raising her eyes to the heavens in dismay.

‘It was not that bad, truly,’ Colin said, in a slightly higher voice than normal.

‘Not that bad?!’ Penelope said incredulously, and she scowled at him. ‘Colin, if you will not be truthful with me then what is the point in this arrangement?’

Colin frowned. ‘‘Arrangement’?’ he said, as if offended by the word, and he smiled as he rested his arm against the tree trunk beside her. ‘Do you not mean ‘friendship’?

An awkward pause fell between them.

Colin nodded slowly in understanding, and his arm dropped from the tree. ‘Ah, you are still angry with me,’ he said, backing away. ‘For my comment last season. Forgive me, I-I thought we were putting that behind us-’

‘I am sorry, but wouldn’t you find it hard to let go of?’ Penelope said, straightening up from the tree trunk. ‘If I had been laughing about you to my friends about what a ridiculous notion it would be to court the likes of you-?’

‘Those men are not my friends, I was merely…’ Colin trailed off and sighed heavily, shaking his head. ‘In truth, I do not even know why I said what I did. They had been so relentless at ridiculing me over the whole debacle with Marina – Lady Crane – and how rushed and idiotic that was, and…well, I think perhaps I was also trying to stop any unwanted rumours they might spread about us, and I just went about it in a very careless way. There is no justification for what I did, it was inexcusable. They were joking with me and, I am ashamed to say, I must have wanted to…join in and…fit the mould.’

‘Hm,’ Penelope said, folding her arms. ‘Now more so than ever, it seems.’

Colin tilted his head at her, looking insulted. ‘So you do agree with what Lady Whistledown has written of me?’ he demanded, hurt.

Penelope grimaced. ‘I…no, that is not…I just do not know if you are being the real you when you converse with these people, Colin. You just said so yourself, you do not consider them your friends. And is it worth it?’ she asked. ‘Pretending to be someone you are not just so you fit in better with the rakes of the ton?’

Colin raised his eyebrows. ‘Oh, you think I am a rake now?’

‘I have heard enough whispers since your return to know that is certainly the impression you are giving, yes,’ Penelope said, a little sharply.

‘Well, I am not,’ Colin muttered.

He looked down as he said the words, as if ashamed to admit it. Ever since his ship had landed back in England, he had been set on ensuring everyone knew him by his new reputation – with the ladies, especially. But with Penelope, it was different somehow. He did not want her to see him as someone completely new. A little improved, perhaps, but not a different person. He was still her Colin, deep inside.

‘I see,’ Penelope said, looking surprised, and she frowned at him, confused. ‘So, you have not…?’ But then she trailed off, her eyes widening as she stared down at the grass, mortified.

Colin stared at her, amused, and a slow, wide grin began to spread on his face. He was quite astounded. He’d forgotten just how much he enjoyed Penelope’s company; she had moments of wonderful unpredictability like this.

He then walked back over to the tree trunk so that he was closer to her and lowered his voice, careful to not be overheard. ‘Penelope…are you asking me of my relations with women?’ he asked, as if scandalised, and he chuckled.

‘No! Of course not!’ Penelope said at once in horror, a small laugh escaping her mouth despite herself.

She nudged his arm roughly with her reticule; she hated it when he made her blush in public. That only made Colin laugh more.

‘Only…’ she then began, sounding a little nervous.

Colin stopped laughing as he took in her serious, thoughtful expression. He tilted his head at her, wordlessly telling her that it was all right for her to continue.

Penelope raised her eyebrows tentatively at him. ‘I merely seek reassurance that my…tutor in these lessons to attract suitors has some…experience in that field,’ she said slowly.

‘Experience?’

‘Colin,’ Penelope said warningly, interrupting him before he could make a suggestive comment as he clearly so longed to do.

Colin pressed his smiling lips together in amusement. ‘Well, that is reasonable enough, I suppose. Yes…I do have some…experience in that field,’ he said, and Penelope’s heart skipped a beat as she gazed up at his face. ‘Not that I should speak to a lady of such things-’

‘Well, I am not a lady to you, am I?’ Penelope said, remembering all too well his words from Lady Danbury’s little soirée hosted in honour of Edwina Sharma last season. ‘I do not count, I am a friend.’

Colin frowned; what an oddly specific thing to say. ‘If you say so,’ he said, confused.

‘Actually, it is you that has said so,’ Penelope said coolly.

‘When did I say that?’ Colin asked.

At this, Penelope groaned loudly; she adored him, but he really could be so infuriating sometimes. ‘Oh! It does not matter,’ she said, shaking her head and seeking out where Rae had got to. ‘I should be going, we have been out together far longer than is proper-’

Colin was baffled; when had he ever said she did not count as a lady? And since when had Penelope ever been concerned with the two of them being ‘proper’? They had been out together in public numerous times, and no one had ever batted an eye.

‘No, wait, Pen, when did I say-?’ he began, following her away from the tree.

‘Colin, please, just leave it!’ Penelope said firmly, sounding a little irritated, as they re-joined the central path.

Colin sighed, and they both came to a halt. ‘Very well. But you must know…I sincerely regret my words last season, and I am so very sorry, not just that you heard them, but that I even said them in the first place,’ he said softly, his gaze not once leaving hers. ‘You deserve better, and I will forever be making amends for that. Because you are my dearest friend, Pen.’

Penelope’s lips parted as she gazed up at him, suddenly forgetting all about the many people in the park surrounding them. ‘Your dearest friend?’ she said quietly.

Colin smiled. ‘Yes. Of course,’ he replied, as if it were obvious. ‘Do you think you will be able to find it in yourself to forgive me?’

A short silence fell between them. Penelope smiled and began to shake her head exasperatedly at him.

She sighed. ‘How can I not, when you say things like that?’ she said, and he smiled warmly back at her. ‘You make it impossible for people to dislike you, Colin. It is one of your many gifts, I suppose.’

Colin swallowed, rather pleased; he always loved any kind of praise, but to receive it from Penelope felt sweeter somehow.

‘Anyway, I-I must be going,’ Penelope said, suddenly feeling rather flustered for being so open towards him like that.

Colin nodded. ‘Allow me to walk you back to the house.’

‘It is fine, I have my maid with me,’ Penelope said, gesturing Rae, who was standing quite some distance away peering over at them curiously. ‘But thank you. And…I am sorry for my…performance today.’

Colin grinned. ‘It is…a work in progress. We shall resume our lessons tomorrow, though, if that would suit?’ he said.

Penelope smiled; he seemed quite eager. ‘It would.’

‘Let us meet at the market…err, shall we say, midday?’ he suggested.

‘Very well,’ Penelope said, bowing her head. ‘Good day, Colin.’

‘Good day, Pen.’

Penelope spent the entire walk back to the house blushing and thinking over every horrendous mistake she had made, in her conversations with both the three lords, and with Colin. It was a relief to eventually reach the safety of her bedchamber, where she could dwell over her embarrassing attempts at flirtation today in solitude. She threw her fan and reticule to the side, clapped her hands over her eyes, and flopped face-down onto the bed.

When Rae knocked and entered a few minutes later, she found Penelope lying on her back, her face screwed up in dismay as she groaned and laughed simultaneously.

Rae tilted her head sympathetically. ‘Was it truly that awful with those gentlemen, miss?’

‘Worse, Rae,’ Penelope moaned. ‘Much worse.’

‘At least Mr. Bridgerton did not seem deterred,’ Rae said, tidying up Penelope’s belongings around the vanity table.

‘No, his pity for me only increased,’ Penelope muttered.

Rae gave her a disapproving look. ‘You must not be so hard on yourself, miss.’

‘Hmm.’

It was difficult not to be hard on herself when she was so utterly hopeless at this whole charade.

‘Miss…if I may speak freely…do you still think it is a good idea?’ Rae asked cautiously, as she straightened up. ‘For your meetings with Mr. Bridgerton to continue?’

Penelope slowly sat up in her bed, deep in thought. Had Colin actually taught her anything valuable today? Or had she simply just been enjoying his company far more than she ought to have done?

‘Y-yes, I do,’ Penelope replied, avoiding Rae’s gaze. ‘He gave useful advice. It will just take a little time, that is all.’

Rae nodded, her silence louder than words.

Penelope’s smile faltered as she turned away. It may not be wise, what she was doing, but how could she resist? Despite making a fool of herself like that and being a floundering mess in front of those lords, she had also had rather a good time in the park today. She had felt alive again, laughing and bantering with Colin. He had made her feel happy.

And Penelope knew that no harm at all could ever come from spending more time with Colin Bridgerton.

Chapter Text

Tucked away in a discreet corner of Mayfair lay a certain clandestine establishment, frequented by the elite of the aristocracy. The main salon was filled with plush mahogany carpets, gilded mirrors, velvet settees, and heavy drapes to ensure the activities within remained hidden from prying eyes. The air was thick with pipe smoke and the scent of exotic perfumes as noblemen sought refuge from the rigid constraints of their public lives. Private chambers offered more intimate escapes, decorated luxuriously with canopied beds draped in the finest linens, warm chandeliers casting a soft glow, and plush chaise longues that invited prolonged relaxation.

It was here where the boundaries of class and propriety blurred.

And it was here where Colin Bridgerton found himself the next morning.

The morning light shone through the curtains onto the pink bed dressings while Colin lay, naked, in a large bed between two young courtesans – a place many gentlemen of the ton would prefer to be above all else. Rather out of breath from their morning activities, he kissed one of the ladies and gripped her bare thigh before turning to the other; she caught his lips between her teeth seductively as they both stroked his chest.

He wondered if it was greedy to enjoy the company of two women at this establishment. Perhaps it was, but he much preferred it to just one. With two women, there was much less attention on him, and it was less personal, less…intimate. It made it easier, somehow.

Colin grinned as he rested his head against the pillow, panting.

This is good, he told himself firmly.

He was proving Lady Whistledown and her edition about him wrong, that was for sure. His ‘new personality’ was not a ploy for attention at all; he was simply being like all the other men his age. It was the norm. It was expected. It was what he wanted – well, what he should want, anyway.

Colin then lifted his head to check the clock on a nearby table. It was a quarter past eleven.

He sighed deeply and flopped his head back onto the pillow. ‘I am decidedly late,’ he murmured, a soft smile on his face as he deeply kissed one courtesan, and then the other. ‘It has been wonderful, ladies.’

That was rather stretching the truth. Deep down, he had conflicting feelings towards such activities at brothels, despite now making himself become an active participant since his return to London. It was physically very satisfying, of course, but it was utterly meaningless. And Colin had never much cared for anything that lacked meaning.

Colin sat up and got out of the bed; the two courtesans leaned up to watch him, enamoured smiles on both their faces.

‘Same time tomorrow?’ one of the courtesans asked, an almost hopeful tone to her voice.

Tomorrow? Really?

Colin had bragged to his brothers and friends about his regular visits to the brothel, but in truth what he preferred to spend most of his free time doing was updating his journal. He had to keep up the pretence, though, and visit this establishment very occasionally, just to go through the motions in case anyone grew suspicious that Lady Whistledown was right and it was all just talk. But Colin didn’t mind this; it was a necessary step in maintaining his new, glowing image.

He peered back through the drapes at the two courtesans. ‘Perhaps,’ he said thoughtfully, giving them both a flirtatious smile, and they grinned back at him.

He could not deny that it was a boost to his ego, to know that they both enjoyed him as a customer. Clearly, he must be doing something right.

Colin dashed off as quickly as he could without appearing rude. He was not actually late at all; in fact, he would no doubt be far too early to the market for his meeting with Penelope, but he did not mind, he wanted to get going. He enjoyed sexual relations and playing his new role very much, but visiting the brothel in some ways was simply an item to tick off his checklist – not exactly a chore, but close enough. Whereas, spending time with one’s nearest and dearest was far more important, and he greatly enjoyed spending time with Penelope; it was the only time nowadays where he could take a break from his little act, and he could simply be himself with his old friend.

The thriving outdoor marketplace was a mere twenty-minute walk away, stretching along a cobblestone street, flanked by elegant townhouses and large chestnut trees. Stalls adorned with awnings showcased a dazzling array of goods, such as fresh produce from the countryside, carts laden with exotic spices and wares, and displays of small furniture items, and the air buzzed with the lively chatter of vendors and promenading shoppers. Ladies meandered about, examining fine lace and silk ribbons as they exchanged pleasantries with friends, while gentlemen inspected pocket watches and leather-bound volumes.

Colin stood by one of the stalls near the entrance to the market, lingering as he waited for Penelope to arrive. He noticed a young lady passing by who blushed the moment she caught sight of him; he nodded and smiled impishly at her in acknowledgement.

Penelope approached just in time to notice this exchange. She smiled, partly amused, yet also partly sad. This devil-may-care, flirtatious, charming act Colin kept putting on for others was not who he really was; they both knew that. But she had to accept it was who he was trying to be this season. And even when he was trying to be this other person, he was still willing to risk being seen out in public with her, simply to help her find a husband. A husband who was not him, yes, but still.

The day was rather downcast, and yet merely seeing Colin was enough to lighten Penelope’s spirits. He looked somewhat more formal, perhaps because his hair was slicked back today, and as dashing as ever.

Colin turned and noticed Penelope; they both smiled and nodded at one another as she joined him quietly at the stall. Rae, who had accompanied her, remained at a distance, with her lips tightly pursed as she kept a close watch on them.

Penelope did not bother with formal greetings or pleasantries; instead, she got straight to what had been playing on her mind all yesterday.

‘Are you quite sure you wish to resume my lessons?’ she said, keeping her eyes fixed on the candelabra stood on the vendor’s table before them, and Colin turned to tilt his head at her. ‘I would not be angry if you found me to be a lost cause.’

Colin took a step toward her, a fond smile on his face. Her cheeks were looking particularly rosy today, he noticed.

‘The truth is, you do not need a lesson,’ he said in a deep, almost flirtatious voice, and he leant down slightly so that he was closer to her eye level.

But Penelope did not meet his gaze, nor did she correctly interpret his words. ‘You agree, I am unteachable,’ she said, weary and a little irate.

Feeling rather deflated, Penelope then turned on her heel and crossed over to another vendor’s table to examine a knickknack.

‘You are very teachable,’ Colin said, following her. ‘You simply do not need to be taught. You already know how to do this.’

Penelope scoffed, her eyes widening sceptically. ‘I assure you, I do not,’ she said, putting the knickknack down.

Colin chuckled as they both looked away from one another briefly.

She truly did not believe she was any good, he could see that from her expression. Perhaps that was his fault; yesterday at the park, he had told her to forget about books and leave her favourite topics behind in favour of just smiling and fluttering her lashes at the men. But he had been so very wrong. She was most comfortable and charming when she was truly being just…herself. It didn’t seem right that he was one of the very few people who got to see that side of her.

As Penelope began to slowly pass a display of chandeliers, Colin walked around to the other side of the table, suddenly inspired on how he could boost her confidence.

‘Do you remember when we first met?’ he asked.

Penelope gazed up at him across the table, stunned, and slowly began to smile. What a silly question. He really had no idea, did he?

‘I was riding my horse, minding my own business, when I was assaulted,’ Colin said, giving her a playful look, and Penelope chuckled, ‘by a devilishly yellow head covering.’

Penelope’s face lit up, the butterflies in her stomach doing a giddy dance. ‘It was not my fault, the wind blew it clean off my head,’ she said indignantly, grinning back at him.

‘Well, wind or not, you certainly seemed pleased when I landed in the mud,’ Colin said, amused.

Penelope laughed; it was an adorable sound. ‘I apologised,’ she reminded him, as they slowly walked along either side of the display.

It was so easy to banter with Colin. She wished it could be this easy with other people, but it just wasn’t. Why was that?

‘Yes. And you were so very charming about it,’ Colin said, somewhat flirtatiously, and he leaned towards her across the table, his hand gripping onto one of the display columns. ‘Teasing me. Mercilessly, in fact.’

He meant it as well; she had been so playful and captivating.

Penelope was dazed that he could remember their first meeting as vividly as she did. As young as they had been, that had been the very moment she had fallen hopelessly in love with him. She had always assumed that he had never given it a moment’s thought in the years that had followed; it was nice to know that she had been wrong.

‘And I think I know why,’ Colin went on, considering her carefully.

Penelope, who had been smiling and enjoying their repartee immensely, suddenly felt her heart skip a beat and her smile fade. Was he about to reveal that he had known about her infatuation towards him since the very first day they had met?

She moved away nervously, too embarrassed to meet his playful gaze anymore. Colin, still smiling, moved around a hanging rug that separated them and slipped in front of her, blocking her way.

‘Because we were children,’ Colin said, to Penelope’s relief, and the two began walking along side by side to explore the other stalls. ‘Before the self-consciousness of adulthood set in. Before we started caring what others think.’

Penelope’s brow furrowed sceptically. What was he saying? That all she had to do was act as carefree as she had been as a child, and everything would simply fall into place? That she was without fault just by being herself? She very much doubted it.

‘Colin, it is impossible to be in society and not care what others think,’ Penelope said, exasperated, while Rae continued to watch them from a nearby stall. ‘Society is entirely composed of the judgement of others.’

Colin paused for a moment; he could not argue with her there. ‘Do you know what I discovered when I was abroad?’ he asked.

Penelope looked at him, not sure she wanted to hear the details. He had discovered a great deal, from what she had gathered.

‘No one knew me. No one knew who I was supposed to be. I was entirely freed of being the Colin Bridgerton the ton knows me to be,’ Colin said, his face lighting up. ‘Which is how I became myself.’

Penelope turned fully to look at him. She was trying to cling onto what he was saying and find some hope for herself in his words, but something about what he was saying made her sad. Hadn’t he always been himself before his travels? Was this new confident, charming Colin truly the real him? She did not think so. She wondered if even he did, deep down.

‘Pen, living for the estimation of others is a trap,’ Colin went on, lowering his voice as he leaned closer towards her. ‘Once you break free, the world…opens up.’

It was a wonderful prospect, to be sure. Perhaps it was easier for a man. But Penelope just could not foresee living in such a way. Yes, she could be herself around Colin – and, formally, Eloise – without worrying about his judgements because she had known him for years. But everyone else? That was just impossible.

She leaned towards him, almost a little too close than was proper. ‘You make it sound so easy,’ she said, casting him a playful look, and Colin grinned at her.

She then moved away from him to turn her attention to another stall, feeling a little flustered. Colin was the only one who understood who she truly was as a person, the only one who understood her fears and insecurities, the only one who believed in what she could be capable of if only she opened herself up to the world. Why did he have to make it so hard for her to move on when he knew her in such a way? When he smiled at her like that? When his voice grew deep and playful when he spoke to her? When he gazed so fondly into her eyes?

Colin couldn’t stop smiling as he gazed after Penelope. It took him a moment to realise that a pair of young noble women were approaching, looking rather giddy.

‘Good day,’ one of them said to him, smiling coyly, as they walked past.

Colin nodded and paused to admire them for a brief moment, but then realised that his conversation with Penelope was much more interesting.

He approached her tentatively from behind as she studied a display of quills, wanting to ask her the question that he hadn’t been able to shake from his mind since the day they had met in her family garden.

‘Why is it you want a husband?’ he asked, interested.

Penelope hesitated, deep in thought. ‘So that I may have my freedom,’ she said wistfully, putting down one of the quills. ‘So that I may feel comfortable in the world.’

‘I see,’ Colin said, nodding in understanding, and they both resumed walking along the stalls. ‘And it will be finding that comfort in yourself that will get you there.’

Colin really hoped that Penelope would believe him and take his words seriously. He had never wanted to change who she was during these lessons; the Penelope he had always known was more than enough. She was smart, charming, kind and funny…she just needed to be brave enough to show the world who she really was, and then Colin would have no doubt that men would fall for her.

‘What is the one thing in the world that makes you feel most comfortable now? Most at ease?’ Colin asked her.

Penelope smiled sadly as she stopped by a vendor selling bouquets of flowers, their bright, blooming petals fresh from the morning dew.

‘It used to be Sunday teas at Bridgerton House. It was one of the few places I could go unchaperoned and truly be myself,’ she said, looking up at Colin. ‘But…that is no longer a possibility.’

Colin had a slight smile on his face as he gazed down at her, touched and rather saddened by her words. ‘I am sorry about whatever might be coming between you and Eloise. What exactly happened?’ he asked.

Deep down – and though he felt awful for even thinking it – Colin was secretly quite grateful that Penelope and Eloise had ‘drifted apart’, as Eloise had put it. At least for now, anyway. For years, Eloise had been there at almost every occasion, always interrupting him and Penelope, wherever they were. Those two girls had been joined at the hip from the very beginning. Although it was sad to see that their friendship had fractured somewhat, it did make Colin glad that it provided him with an opportunity to spend time with just Penelope, without his sister always being present. It made their connection feel closer, somehow, more special.

Penelope lowered her gaze. What could she possibly say in response to his question? She did not wish to lie, but to tell him the truth would be to reveal her secret. And she could not do that. Colin could never know. He would despise her if he knew she was Lady Whistledown, she was sure of it.

Penelope then glanced over his shoulder and noticed Rae, stood a mere few metres away, with a sour expression on her face. She raised her eyebrows rather pointedly at her.

She knew that Rae could tell how much it was costing Penelope to pretend to be content with just being Colin’s friend, and she knew this was dangerous territory for her to be treading. Not only that, she looked rather concerned, and Penelope could not blame Rae for giving her such a disapproving look; Colin’s concept of personal space and propriety seemed to have gone out of the window on today’s little outing, and if anyone noticed people might start to talk.

Luckily, Colin had more or less always acted this way around Penelope, and no one ever gave the two of them a second glance when they were seen out in public together, simply because everyone was used to it. They had the strangest relationship, really.  They had always called one another by their first names, written correspondence to one another, given each other compliments, touched hands, and talked alone at social assemblies, despite not being engaged, or even courting. A rarity amongst the ton, indeed. Yes, they were technically breaking many rules of society etiquette, but people did not pay it any heed, for they were platonic, childhood friends who had grown up together. It also helped that Penelope had always been a wallflower who simply faded into the background for most people.

But they had to be careful now that this ‘new’ Colin was here. Penelope was worried that the charming, flirtatious façade that Colin had been so proudly displaying since the start of the season seemed to be seeping through, even when speaking to only her. The way he gazed at her with those glowing eyes and dashing smile, the way he laughed or grinned at her witty comments, the way he kept leaning closely towards her…if he kept such behaviour up, people might start suspecting something between the two of them, particularly if they could see just how much Penelope was enjoying his attentions.

‘I should get back,’ she said to Colin, her gaze somewhat nervous as she smiled up at him.

Colin frowned slightly, wondering why she had to leave so soon, and turned around to see her maid, Rae, who wore an expression resembling that of a strict governess reprimanding her pupil for straying too far from the conventions of good society.

Penelope then leaned in towards Colin. ‘Before we are noticed,’ she added, almost suggestively, and she gave him a cheeky smile, before turning away.

She hadn’t meant to say it, but the words had just left her mouth naturally without her really thinking why they were necessary. But the truth was, perhaps Colin did need reminding of their…situation. He had chosen a new persona to embrace the ton with, and lingering around too long with the pitiful Penelope Featherington in public would not do him in any favours in that regard.

It was highly unlikely that anyone would see the two of them together and assume they were courting, not when they had been getting away with such behaviour since late childhood, but still, it could embarrass him, and it could even hurt her chances on the marriage mart if people thought that Colin, the finest catch of the season, did not want to pursue more with her. It would be easier for him, and for her, if she remained as out of sight of possible and not stand in his way of being this new charmer he believed he needed to be.

Colin’s smile faded slightly as he registered what Penelope had just said, and his eyes began to dart around as she strolled away from him. He was rather disconcerted; her words had stirred something in him that he hadn’t quite expected.

Had Penelope just…flirted with him? Perhaps she had not intended to, but her smile had been rather playful, the way she had leaned in had been daringly familiar, and her words had been mildly suggestive. It left him a bit caught off guard. He had even forgotten what he had just asked her.

And then the words Penelope had spoken truly resonated with him.

He didn’t like that she had cut their meeting short. It confused him; why would she try to avoid being seen with him? They were out in broad daylight, accompanied by a maid, with nothing untoward about their interactions. Not really, anyway.

For years, they had gone about their friendship without caring about breaking propriety, not even acknowledging that they ought to have adjusted from childhood freedoms to keeping appropriate boundaries between an adult lady and gentleman. And yet now…something had changed, enough for Penelope to worry that crossing those lines could actually be improper now. Society rules were so very tiresome in that way; they dictated every action and every thought, and drove the young people of the ton mad with fear of putting one toe out of line. It was therefore disappointing, but also understandable, that Penelope felt a need to create a distance between the two of them now.

Or was her wariness for another reason entirely? Perhaps she wasn’t afraid of what the ton would think at all, but rather she still hadn’t quite recovered from his comment she had overheard last season, and still believed that she embarrassed him. Yes, he had apologised, but perhaps that hadn’t been enough to get through to her. Perhaps the wound had not healed and merely turned into a permanent scar.

No. No. It cannot be that. It would dismay him if that were the reason.

Still rather unsettled, Colin then noticed Rae the maid following Penelope, though she made sure to cast a sharp, knowing look at him, her lips twitching, as she walked directly past. Colin couldn’t help feeling rather amused by her expression; it was as if she were chastising him for being inappropriate with Penelope, yet also enjoying it immensely.

Lips parted, Colin then gazed after Penelope, and a small smirk appeared on his face. He liked that she had felt comfortable enough to flirt with him. And he strangely liked the fact that, for the first time ever, it had crossed her mind that they could have been noticed enough to be suspected of courting. Perhaps it meant her confidence in herself was already slowly starting to grow.

He wished she hadn’t had to go so soon, as he had been rather enjoying himself – not that they had really achieved much from today’s ‘lesson’. But they had laughed and bonded, and it had been nice to reminisce over their very first meeting. And their conversation had struck him with a good idea for when they would next meet.

A fond smile brightened his boyish features as he watched Penelope walk away, and then, chuckling softly to himself, he turned and strode off in the opposite direction to leave the market.

When Colin returned to Bridgerton House later, he was greeted by the sound of a tuneful melody being played on the pianoforte upstairs, and the excitable yapping of a dog. Grinning, Colin climbed the stairs to join everyone in the drawing room.

As he suspected, Hyacinth and Gregory were playing with Newton, Kate and Anthony’s adorable corgi, whom they had left in the trusted care of the younger Bridgerton siblings; the newlyweds had departed a few days ago on a spontaneous extended honeymoon. No one in their family could say that they did not deserve it, after such a fraught journey for the two of them last season to get to this point.

Also in the drawing room were Benedict and Eloise, who were both reading, and Francesca, playing her music contently in the background.

‘Good day, family,’ Colin greeted, removing his coat, and Hyacinth flashed a warm smile over at him as she continued playing the new sheet music he had gifted her on the pianoforte.

‘Ah, Brother. What have you been up to today?’ Benedict asked, putting down his paper.

‘Nothing much,’ Colin said airily, grabbing some biscuits that had been left over from calling hour. ‘I went for a stroll at the market.’

‘Is that all?’ Benedict said, eyeing him bemusedly. ‘Only you appear far too happy to have simply just paid a visit to some stalls.’

Colin raised his eyebrows. ‘I am always happy,’ he said, feeling slightly anxious; he didn’t like how Eloise was throwing him a suspicious glance over the top of her book as she read in the corner.

‘No, Benedict is right,’ Gregory said, getting up from the floor as he frowned curiously at his brother. ‘You do seem particularly happy.’

‘Yes, I agree,’ Hyacinth interjected, picking up Newton and dashing over excitedly. ‘Oh, my gosh, have you met someone, Brother?!’

Colin rolled his eyes exasperatedly. ‘No, I have not, and I shall thank you all to keep your nose out of my business,’ he said in a playful tone of voice as he ruffled Hyacinth’s and Gregory’s hair. ‘I have had a pleasant day and I am simply…perfectly content. There is nothing wrong with that, is there?’

‘Nothing at all, Brother,’ Francesca called over from the pianoforte. ‘Ignore their teasing.’

Colin smiled, though his smile faded rather quickly when he realised that his cheeks had gone red. Why was he blushing?

He had not lied to his siblings, not really. He did feel perfectly content. It felt as if his life was finally falling into place. His family seemed delighted that he was back at home, his brothers respected him, the lords of the ton were now eager for his company to hear his thrilling tales from abroad, he had every eligible debutante swooning over him, and he had mended his friendship with Penelope and was on his way to proving his worth by helping her find a husband. Things really could not get much better than this.

Grabbing another biscuit, Colin then flopped onto the settee and looked around the drawing room, struck with inspiration.

‘It used to be Sunday teas at Bridgerton House.’

He was feeling remarkably invested in his and Penelope’s plan now, and was already eager to arrange their next meeting. And this was the answer. What better way to help Penelope than in the very place she felt safe and comfortable? All he needed to do now was figure out how to get rid of his family, and her maid Rae, for a short time.

He just wanted – or rather, needed – to find way to get Penelope alone. When it was just the two of them, Penelope opened up. She was her wonderful, unashamed self. And only then could the real work begin.

Chapter Text

Bridgerton House felt strangely quiet nowadays.

The family definitely missed Daphne’s presence; she was hardly ever in London due to being fully occupied at Clyvedon. She and Simon preferred their country estate over the buzz of the city during the social season, anyway, and at least Daphne still wrote them all letters once a week. The house was also very much feeling the recent absence of the Viscount and the Viscountess. Anthony and Kate were such vibrant, happy figures in their lives; the perfect role models for what they could all aspire to be, really. It was strange without them here all the time now that they had left for their extended honeymoon in Devon. Nevertheless, Hyacinth and Gregory – and Newton the dog, of course – could always be relied upon to keep their family home buzzing with a lively atmosphere.

One morning found Colin enjoying a game of cards at a table outside in their garden with Benedict, Gregory and Hyacinth, when one of the family footmen then emerged and stood some distance away, giving Colin a pointed look. Colin’s heart leapt excitedly.

It is time.

Making an excuse to leave the game early, Colin headed back into the house, feeling incredibly optimistic. He had prepared everything in advance, manipulated everyone’s movements and whereabouts accordingly, and asked the most trusted servants to set up the drawing room exactly as he’d envisioned. What could possibly go wrong?

He found Penelope waiting for him in the foyer by the main entrance, in another lovely pale green gown, complete with a shawl and a tiny pink sheer scarf tied around her neck. She looked extremely ill at ease, which made him sad; Penelope had always used to come to Bridgerton House whenever she pleased, without even needing a calling card or introduction from a footman. But now everything was much more formal, and she clearly saw herself as nothing but a mere guest here now, rather than a family friend.

Colin was determined to fix that today.

‘No, thank you, I am happy to wait here,’ she was saying to the footman by the front door, looking most anxious.

‘Penelope,’ Colin greeted brightly, crossing the foyer over to her. ‘I have been eagerly awaiting your visit.’

Penelope glanced at him; he wore a dark blue floral waistcoat that fit his lean form snugly, and had a warm smile on his face – it hardly did anything to lessen her nerves.

‘As have I, but perhaps it would be better for me to meet you at the market instead of coming here first,’ Penelope said, indicating the door and already inching backwards, as if eager to escape.

‘We are not going to the market this time. We are going to the Bridgerton drawing room,’ Colin said in a satisfied sort of voice, and he turned to lead the way.

Penelope frowned, perplexed. ‘Uh, but why?’ she said, following him.

Colin paused as he looked at her in bemusement – what was so hard to understand? ‘For your next lesson, of course,’ he said, taking another few steps forward, but Penelope stopped him again to protest.

‘Uh-uh, but Colin, my maid is outside, and Eloise-’

‘Is out for the afternoon at the Modiste with Francesca and our mother,’ he reassured her.

Penelope’s eyes were getting wider and wider. ‘And the rest of your family?’ she asked, rather panicked.

She didn’t understand his laid-back attitude; why was he not thinking any of the implications through thoroughly? What if they were discovered together in the house?

Colin stepped towards her, looking both impatient and understanding. ‘They are playing cards in the garden,’ he said gently, and he placed a hand on the small of her back to guide her towards the stairs.

Penelope’s heart leapt the moment she felt his hand on her back, and against her better judgement she found her feet following his direction of their own accord.

Colin removed his hand from her back as the two of them headed towards the staircase. ‘You have seen my family play pall-mall, you know how competitive we are,’ he said as they climbed the stairs. ‘Hyacinth loves to win, Gregory hates to lose to her, while Benedict will refuse to miss the spectacle. Trust me, not one of them will be leaving that table in the immediate future.’

‘And what of your servants? At least two of them know I am here,’ Penelope pointed out.

‘They are discreet. And…I may have bribed them,’ Colin admitted, pulling a face as they reached the corridor.

‘Colin!’ Penelope chastised, looking horrified. ‘You should not go to such trouble for me, it is not worth the risk-’

‘Of course it is, it’s you!’ Colin said, smiling fondly at her as he led the way. ‘And it is no risk at all, do not concern yourself. Now, come on.’

Penelope faltered slightly. She wished he wouldn’t be like this, throwing constant reminders of how he did not return her feelings or even think of her in such a category. Spending time with her could never be interpreted as a ‘risk’ in his eyes. Marina had been right; he saw her as no differently than Eloise or Hyacinth.

Heaving out a heavy sigh, Penelope shook her head and forced her feet to continue as Colin opened the door, and she followed him into the vacant drawing room.

Decked out in its classic palette of pale cream, pastel blue, and soft champagne shades, the drawing room was the central gathering place for the Bridgertons. Penelope had been in this opulent room countless times for years, seated amongst everyone as if she were an honorary member of the family, but it had been quite some time since she had set foot in here. It made her feel an ache in her chest as she glanced around. An elaborate crystal chandelier hung like a luminous centrepiece, while arched windows framed by sumptuous blue velvet drapes allowed sunlight to pour in, casting a natural warmth over the polished parquet floor. By the windows stood a magnificent 18th-century pianoforte, its polished wood gleaming softly in the light, and in the two opposite ends of the room stood an inviting collection of elegant, striped settees and armchairs, upholstered in rich blue brocade.

It was a space to unwind from the day’s activities, where the worries of the outside world seemed to fade away – and yet, somehow, Penelope could not find herself relaxing despite being in it. Indeed, her breathing was rather frantic as she looked around. This was not what she had had in mind for today. It would be a huge risk if the two of them were to be found here. Scandalous, even.

Colin shut the door firmly behind them. ‘You mentioned you were comfortable at Bridgerton House,’ he said, moving into the centre of the room, ‘so we are going to practice here.’

Penelope was in disbelief. Was he really proposing they spend time in his family drawing room unchaperoned? But of course, he wouldn’t have even thought of it like that. The idea of needing a chaperone wouldn’t have crossed his mind because, to him, she was just ‘Pen’. Never a lady.

‘Uh, I was comfortable at Bridgerton House. Previously,’ Penelope said, rather agitatedly. 

Colin looked somewhat exasperated. ‘We needed a place to be alone,’ he said, and Penelope fidgeted nervously with her shawl and gloves as she stared at him, trying not to feel too giddy by his words. ‘Here, your maid can wait outside, and we can pretend we are at a ball.’

He looked so suave and confident, as if it was the best idea he had ever had. Penelope tilted her head at him, mesmerised.

‘Have you gone mad?’ she asked.

Colin chucked. ‘Imagine it with me, Pen,’ he said, and he began gesturing around the different parts of the room. ‘The quartet is by the pianoforte, preparing for the Parisian quadrille. Here, on the sofa, some mamas are debating the merits of the decoration.’

Penelope couldn’t help but smile as she watched him, her hands on her hips. She felt rather touched as she watched him demonstrate; he had taken some time and thought to plan this, that alone was clear, and all because he had wanted to provide a place for her where she felt comfortable. It was adorable. How could she possibly ever have a hope of moving on when he did things like this?

‘Across the room, gentlemen are asking young ladies to dance,’ Colin went on, striding over to the other end of the drawing room.

Penelope was trying so very hard not to grin. He was so endearing. So charming. And his hair looked particularly good today. Penelope wondered what it would feel like to run her hands through those luscious curls.

No, stop it!

There was no point in thinking such impossible things. When would she learn?

‘And here, we have the lemonade table,’ Colin said, walking over to the nearby table with a smile on his face, ‘which is where we shall begin.’

He stood by the table, which he had already asked a servant to prepare with lemonade, and looked at Penelope. Anyone else would have made fun of his silly little game of make-believe, he knew that. They would have told him to grow up, as they always did, and teased him for his enjoyment of the fanciful. But he knew that he could trust Penelope to indulge him here. This was them at their best, after all.

Penelope was watching him in both awe and bemusement, her hands still on her hips. She clearly still thought he was mad. But he could see the smile playing at the edges of her lips as well, as if she could not resist his elaborate plan.

Colin tilted his head at her, as if daring her to walk away.

It was that look that made any remaining protests or inhibitions Penelope had crumble.

His plan was quite insane, but she did want his help. She wanted to get better at talking to gentlemen, she wanted someone to court her, she wanted to find a husband. But she was also terrified by it, for one could never be too careful when it came to choosing the person to spend the rest of one’s life with.

She wasn’t sure what it was that frightened her the most. That suitors would be disappointed by her? That her husband would see her truly for how she was and did not like who that person was? That she would end up a miserable wife? There was nothing Penelope feared more than the idea that she might come out of hiding and give herself away to someone, only to have the door closed in her face. She just could not bear the thought of that.

On the other hand, if she were to truly make an effort and do this, she might find someone nice, someone who could make her laugh, someone with kind-hearted eyes, someone who might like her exactly as she was and truly want to be with her, someone who might even set her heart in motion. Penelope couldn’t imagine such a person, for she had only ever envisioned Colin in that role, but it could be possible. He could be out there, undiscovered, waiting for her.

All she needed to do was pluck up some courage and do what needed to be done to find him.

Rolling her eyes, Penelope then removed her sheer pale blue shawl and draped it over one of the armchairs nearby.

‘Very well,’ she said, a slightly suggestive tone to her voice, and she walked over to Colin and picked up a glass of lemonade from the table. ‘Shall I pretend to flirt with the imaginary cellist?’

She chuckled softly.

Colin rested his hands behind his back as he met her amused gaze. ‘No. With the dashing suitor you just met by the refreshments,’ he said in a charming voice, taking another glass of lemonade, and Penelope’s smile froze as she realised what he meant. ‘Me.’

Penelope looked dismayed. ‘You?’ she said, her smile instantly disappearing.

Colin’s face fell; he felt almost offended by her response. ‘I’m the perfect person to practice on,’ he said indignantly. ‘You do not have to be embarrassed, you know me!’

‘That is exactly why I will feel even more embarrassed, because I know you,’ Penelope said, frustrated; she truly could not imagine anything worse than directing her awkward, foolish attempts at flirting towards the man she had loved for so many years.

Colin looked away for a moment and sighed deeply as he put his glass of lemonade down. He seemed exasperated; Penelope wouldn’t be surprised if he was wondering why on earth he had even bothered going to all this effort.

She lowered her gaze. ‘Forgive me. It is only…’ She trailed off and sighed heavily.

But Colin looked up at her then and regarded her evenly, quietly encouraging her to continue. And so Penelope let her thoughts flow out.

‘Deep inside…I know I can be…clever and amusing, but…somehow, my character gets lost between my heart and my mouth, and I find myself saying the wrong thing or, more likely, nothing at all,’ Penelope explained, looking rather disheartened.

Colin frowned sympathetically as he watched her speak, grateful that she felt able to open up to him about this. He felt for her deeply. He knew himself what it was like to not be able to present who one really was to the world.

‘Forget what is wrong or right,’ he said gently. ‘Imagine what you would want to say to me, if I were a suitor, without concerning yourself with how I might receive it.’

Penelope inhaled deeply as she gazed up into his dark ocean-blue eyes.

Very well, then. If that’s what he wants.

Colin gazed back into her eyes, and swallowed somewhat nervously as he braced himself. She really was quite mesmerising to look at.

The silence was palpable as they both waited for her to say something – anything.

Penelope’s lips had begun to part as she continued to stare up at him, as if hypnotised. ‘Your eyes…are the most remarkable shade of blue,’ she said softly. ‘Yet somehow they shine even brighter when you are kind.’

Colin stared at her, stunned, his mouth parting. He had no idea what to say or even think in response to that. He could even feel his armour beginning to slip. What did she mean? That his kindness made him better? Or was she just saying the first thing that had come to her mind without really meaning it? He was rather disturbed; he had not expected to have any kind of reaction to whatever Penelope had planned to say, he had merely been trying to instil confidence in her, but right now there were unmistakeable butterflies forming in his stomach. It was very peculiar, to say the least.

Penelope felt rather dazed, even alarmed, by his taken-aback expression. Her heart had been an open book for so long; Penelope had always thought that if Colin had just looked at her for more than a few seconds – truly looked at her – then he would have seen all the things she wished she could convey to him in a single glance.

Well, he was looking now.

And suddenly Penelope had never felt more exposed or vulnerable because, for the first time, she was worried that Colin might finally be starting to put two and two together.

Flustered, Penelope tore her gaze away from his. ‘I-I might say something like that if you were a-a suitor,’ she said, putting down her glass and fiddling with it on the refreshments table while Colin quaffed his lemonade.

‘Mm,’ Colin said, still not really knowing what to say, as he put his empty glass down and Penelope gazed at the other end of the room, looking quite horrified. ‘Well, that was, uh…rather direct.’

Intense was perhaps the more appropriate word, Colin thought. There had been a spark of something there, he was sure of it. But he didn’t understand it, not at all.

Penelope made an indiscernible noise and cleared her throat awkwardly, still unable to look him in the eye. She could feel her cheeks reddening as she panicked inwardly.

What was the matter with her?

She wished her heart would stop racing so fast. She did not like being so dangerously close to such a pointless hope; she had to keep reminding herself that her love for Colin had to be pushed to the side and forgotten. After all, it was nothing but an unrequited fantasy, as Marina had so bluntly put it two years ago. He was merely helping her try to find another man, and there was nothing more to this bizarre little arrangement they had struck up.

‘Um...’ Colin was trying to think of how to move forward when he then heard voices approaching from outside, and both their heads snapped up and turned towards the door in alarm.

‘I believe I did them a great service,’ Eloise’s voice was saying.

‘Hush!’ came Francesca’s voice. ‘Unless you care to tell Mama about your “great service.”’

Colin moved to the door, frowning. He had been so preoccupied with trying to keep Eloise from finding out about Penelope’s visit to the house today that he had scarcely given any thought to the prospect of Eloise returning home early, or of literally anyone in his family coming across the two of them shut alone in a room, unchaperoned, while they practised the art of flirting.

Penelope’s eyes had widened in horror as the voices moved closer. ‘Eloise is here,’ she said, her voice quiet but fearful.

‘You can hide in the study,’ Colin said, registering her panic, and he hurriedly showed her towards the door at the other end of the drawing room.

He opened it for her; she ducked under his arm and rushed out into the corridor.

Penelope felt rather angry with herself as she hurried along towards the study. She should have known that this would not be a good idea. She should have listened to her instincts when she had first found out that Colin intended for them to remain here at the house. Now, she felt like a dirty, scandalous secret he had to hide away.

Breathing shakily, Penelope shoved open the study door and shut it firmly behind her, exhaling in deep relief that she hadn’t been sighted. She was out of the woods – for now, at least.

Curious, she then opened her eyes and looked around. She had known for years that the Bridgerton brothers had used this room for games, studying,  correspondence, and matters of business, and that it had more recently become Colin’s own private study, but she had never before entered it. She felt like she was entering a private domain, a little insight into Colin’s personal bubble. It felt wrong, somehow, but also exciting.

At the centre of the room stood a finely crafted card table, surrounded by intricately carved wooden chairs. Her breathing finally calming down, Penelope slowly moved towards it and rested her gloved hand on the back of one of the chairs. She then looked up at the stately writing desk at the far end of the room, situated by a large window. Intrigued, Penelope walked over to it. The desk, made of dark mahogany, was an organised chaos of maps, journals, and correspondence. The broad expanse of the desk’s surface was scattered with quills, inkpots, and sealing wax, ready for the latest inspiration or urgent missive.

Penelope’s eyes fell instantly on Colin’s dashing worn brown coat, slung over the back of his desk chair. She ran her hands slowly over the coat, her heart beating very fast as she tried to resist the urge to lift the sleeve and see if she could smell Colin’s cologne.

Releasing her hold of it, Penelope turned to move away, but then stopped as something caught her eye on the desk: a leather-bound journal. It was open, with two pages in full view, inscribed with what Penelope instantly recognised as Colin’s handwriting.

Without thinking, Penelope leaned forward and began to read the first passage aloud:

‘“I can now declare with great certainty that Paris has some of the most beautiful women in the world,”’ Penelope murmured softly, and she swallowed as she felt her cheeks begin to colour. ‘“How lucky I am to be surrounded by them, on the tree-lined streets of Le Marais, in the charming cafés along the Seine at times when the city is still, alone at night.”’

Her eyes then skipped ahead to a few paragraphs further down, and she inhaled sharply and backed away at once, her heart hammering fast against her chest.

This was wrong. This was private. Colin would not want it seen by anyone.

She moved away and turned her back on the journal as she tried to fix her gaze on the window instead. She pressed a hand to her middle, her breathing suddenly rather heavy again. A strange tingling sensation had filled her whole body; she couldn’t understand it.

Against her better judgement, Penelope then looked back over her shoulder. It was as if his journal was calling to her.

No. Do not do it.

But Penelope could not resist. It was right there, begging to be read, and she was too intrigued; she simply had to find out more.

So, she moved back over to the desk and picked up the journal rather breathlessly as she continued to read, her lips parting wider and wider, her heartrate increasing rapidly as she took in Colin’s words:

In those moments alone, as my fingers trace freckles from cheek to collarbone, or as I watch the way starlight dances across skin, I marvel at how one can feel such intimacy, but also such great distance.

Penelope still did not quite understand the full nature of the ‘marital act’, and nor should she as an unmarried lady. However, since both her sisters had married and through overhearing their bemusing conversations about sexual congress with their mother on the matter – not to mention being an expert eavesdropper while conducting business as Lady Whistledown – Penelope had picked up on a little on what was supposed to occur between a man and a woman in the bedchamber. This, however, written so beautifully in Colin’s journal, was something different entirely…something so much more to what she had expected…something that sounded so beautiful, so irresistible, yet also so lonely and –

And then the door swung open.

Penelope glimpsed up in shock; Colin had entered the study, and was carrying her shawl that she had so foolishly left behind in the drawing room.

Penelope shuddered, though she was not sure if it was from Colin’s sudden appearance or the nature of the content she had just read. She hastily put the journal back down on the desk, but she knew it was already too late.

‘Pen,’ Colin said, frowning at her.

Penelope gasped and staggered away from the desk in alarm.

Colin closed the study door and glared at her, a panicked gleam in his eyes. ‘Were you reading that?’ he asked, rather sharply.

‘No,’ Penelope replied at once, but then realised there was no point in lying; he had seen her holding the journal right up to her eyes, practically glued to it. ‘I-I did not mean to.’

Colin looked most unimpressed as he strode over to her. ‘You did not mean to pick up my journal and read it?’ he said accusingly. 

‘No. I-I did, but I should not have,’ Penelope said nervously, her voice tremoring slightly; she was still feeling rather overcome from what she had just read.

‘Well, no, you should not!’ Colin said, his voice and expression indignant as he frowned at her.

Colin felt a little embarrassed – he had never intended for anyone to read his private writings, after all, as they were not particularly good – but more than that he felt cross. He thought he could have trusted Penelope to understand the basic concept of boundaries and the invasion of privacy.

‘Whatever you read was not meant for another’s eye!’ Colin said angrily, his voice raised.

He reached for the journal to close it and lock it away in one of his drawers, but in doing so he accidentally knocked the lantern on his desk aside. It landed with a loud smash as the glass shattered across the wooden floor.

Penelope gasped loudly and backed away, unnerved. She felt quite dizzy; the journal had left her all of a flutter, and then to be on the receiving end of Colin’s anger for the very first time was a whole new, terrifying experience altogether.

Colin scowled, furious with both himself and with Penelope. Repressing the urge to swear, he bent down grumpily to collect the shattered glass from the floor.

He began picking up the shards, but was still so ruffled by the fact that Penelope had read some of his journal that he wasn’t concentrating on what he was doing; within seconds, one of the sharp edges of the glass came into contact with his palm.

‘Damn!’ Colin yelled, flinching and yanking his hand back.

Penelope’s eyes widened in fear; the gash on his palm was quite prominent, with a small pool of blood already forming at an alarming speed. 

‘Colin, your hand!’ Penelope said, her voice laced with fear.

‘It is nothing!’ Colin said irritably, not wanting to even look at her right now.

‘It is not nothing, stay there,’ Penelope said, trying not to sound frustrated with him.

She hastily removed her gloves and glanced around the desk in desperation. She found a loose handkerchief by his quill; she grabbed it and knelt on the floor before him to help.

Colin made a petulant little grunt and pulled back as soon as he realised what she was trying to do. He felt so embarrassed and stupid, firstly for knocking over his lantern in his anger, and secondly for being silly enough to cut himself so spectacularly within seconds.

Of course, Penelope thought irritably, he’s trying to be a brave man about this. Stupid fool.

Breathing deeply, Penelope fixed him with a firm gaze. ‘Please,’ she said softly. ‘Let me.’

Colin worked his jaw as he looked back at her hesitantly. He was still so angry with her, and he did not wish to be mollycoddled. On the other hand, his hand was in a great deal of pain, this blood wasn’t going to stop anytime soon, and it could be at risk of getting infected if it was not tended to promptly. It did not help that her little ‘please’ was hard to reject as well.

So, reluctantly, Colin held out his hand to her; he merely meant to extend it at first, but instead ended up placing it directly in hers, and suddenly any anger and embarrassment he had felt on discovering Penelope reading his journal seemed to disappear the moment she gently took his hand in her own and cradled it, skin to skin.

She gently began to wrap the handkerchief over the gash in his palm, all too aware of the heated silence between them and her heart racing at an alarming pace.

Colin studied her focussed expression as she secured the handkerchief around his palm, his irritation completely subsided now. He then glanced back at their hands. She was being so very gentle. He barely even registered the pain of his wound now.

Once the handkerchief was securely in place, Penelope allowed her bare hand to linger on his. She knew she ought to let go of his hand now, but something kept her frozen. Her eyes flickered as she wondered whether she dare meet his gaze.

Colin glanced up to Penelope’s face, which looked nervous and rather breathless, then back to their hands, still touching even though there was no reason to anymore. Without even really thinking about it, he curled his fingers inward, softly enfolding hers.

Penelope slowly met his gaze. Her eyes were so incredibly blue. Her pupils were so large.

His other hand instinctively then reached for her too, but ended up just nervously playing with the fabric of the handkerchief. He was not quite ready to let go just yet.

He frowned slightly; what was this? This strange friction in the air between them? This intimacy? Why were their fingers lingering on each other’s? He didn’t understand.

‘Your writing,’ Penelope then murmured, her voice soft and tentative, and Colin’s eyes locked with hers again, ‘it is very good.’

Colin’s expression softened, and he looked down. He didn’t really know how to respond, for he hadn’t realised until this very moment just how much he had wanted to hear those words. He had always hoped that his writing was of decent quality, and it meant a great deal to hear that it was…even if the circumstances were not ideal. But still, what he had written in his journal was his private truth that he had been trying so hard to hide from the world; it revealed that the new him was simply a façade. And Penelope had stripped his armour away by reading it. She was drawing him back towards his old self, and that frightened him.

If only Penelope knew that the whole reason he had started this journal in the first place had been because she hadn’t responded to any of his letters while he had been in Europe – though he now appreciated that her silence had been for a perfectly good reason. She had inspired him, in a way.

He then realised that his hand was still in hers. He swallowed; he was beginning to feel rather warm all of a sudden.

‘Perhaps we should pause for the day,’ Colin said, averting his eyes as they let go, and Penelope snatched her hand away from his at once.

They both abruptly got to their feet and backed away from one another. It was hard to ascertain which one of them was more flustered.

Colin glanced at Penelope; she was clutching her middle and avoiding looking anywhere near him. She looked almost as nettled and embarrassed as he felt.

He flexed his hand as he eyed her. ‘Will I see you tonight?’ he asked; he wanted to reassure her that he had not fallen out with her, that he still did wish to see her.

‘Uh...indeed,’ Penelope replied, feeling rather dizzy as she grabbed her gloves from his desk, still struggling to meet his eyes. ‘Thank you for the, um...lesson.’

She was in a daze. Reality had set back in, but it didn’t erase the ache in Penelope’s rapidly-beating heart.

She walked away from him, retrieved her shawl from the card table, and hurried to the door; Colin watched her go. He was too perplexed by what had just happened to think of anything to say as she left. He could still hear her breaths, coming out almost like small gasps, as she escaped into the corridor, without even pausing to see if the coast was clear; she was clearly desperate to leave.

Penelope shut the door to the study firmly behind her, breathing heavily, her heart racing, and rushed along the corridor towards the stairs. She had never been more mortified or shaken in her life.

What just happened in there?

She felt like such a fool. No matter what she did, she could not hide from it or from him. It was simply impossible to get over him; the more time they spent together, the harder it got for her to push those feelings down. Her unrequited love for Colin had driven her quite mad over the years, Penelope was certain, and now that he was trying to help her find a husband it had made the state of her mind much more…complicated.

Did he truly not feel it as well? Did he really not see that she had loved him from the very start?

Either he was completely blind, very stupid, in denial, or pretending not to know to save Penelope any embarrassment.

For so long, she had spent her nights lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling and wishing that he would wake up one day and realise that his heart belonged to her. Those nights had ceased altogether now, for she knew that such a thing would never be a possibility. But that did not mean that there wasn’t still a little glimmer of hope…and still a lot of hurt.

Nevertheless, Penelope did not want to sit around and wait for Colin forever. She refused to do that. This was meant to be the start of a new chapter, she was meant to be moving on. So, that was exactly what she was going to do at tonight’s ball. She would simply put what had just happened in Colin’s study to the back of her mind, try to forget the titillating contents of Colin’s intriguing journal, and turn her attention away from Colin towards other men tonight.

How hard could that be, after all?

Chapter Text

Colin was still frowning at the closed study door from which Penelope had just dashed out of.

What was that?

Keeping his wounded hand loosely closed, he moved around to the writing desk. Curious, he peered at the open page of his journal that she had been reading. It was a relief to know that the passage she had read hadn’t been one of his more later ones where he had written of missing her and her letters…but what she had read, if anything, made him feel even more nervous. He blushed ever so slightly; the pages that she had left open were a detailed entry of one of his nights of meaningless passion in Paris.

His brow tightened as he lifted his gaze to the door.

It was rather baffling that Penelope had complimented his writing of such material. Any other unmarried lady with no experience or knowledge of such things would surely have been scandalised, perhaps even horrified, to read such content. But not Penelope. She had looked embarrassed, certainly, but more so about being caught than what she had been reading. Had she been…interested in what he had written? The thought rather intrigued him.

He was suddenly starting to feel rather hot and bothered, knowing that his friend had read of his sexual experiences. It was as if some unknown boundary had been crossed, for her to know of that side of him, from which there was no point of return. It felt strangely intimate.

Colin frowned to himself, feeling somewhat unnerved as he thought back to what had just happened with Penelope. That had certainly been…new. Different. And rather alarming. When their hands had touched, Penelope hadn’t shuddered away. Instead, she had relaxed into her hold of him, and looked deeply into his eyes.

She had never looked at him that way before.

No, it cannot be.

Colin shook his head and chuckled, exasperated with himself. He must be mistaken. Penelope was his dearest, oldest friend, nothing more. They had just become caught up in the strange moment, and how could they not be, when the touch of bare skin between friends was so few and far between in this society they lived in? It surely should not signify. Nothing had changed between them, nothing at all. Everything was fine, and they would resume their lessons at tonight’s ball like everything was perfectly normal – because it was.

Colin remained in his study for the rest of the day, pouring over the pages of his journal curiously, wondering if what Penelope had said had been genuine, before proceeding to write his weekly letter to Daphne. By the time he had finished his letter – Daphne was a rarity amongst the Bridgerton siblings in that she did not mind his correspondence being multiple pages long – the sun was already beginning to set; it would be time for him to get ready soon.

Before he knew it, he found himself seated in one of the Bridgerton carriages along with Eloise, as they made their way through the dark fog to tonight’s ball. She had been rather stiff with him earlier, and was staring pointedly out of the window in silence.

As they rambled along the road, Colin looked down at his bandaged right hand, as he had done so many times today. He thought of Penelope’s gentle, lingering fingers holding his own as she had tenderly wrapped the handkerchief around his palm. He thought of her nervous gaze. It had been quite a strange moment between them. Perhaps ‘strange’ wasn’t quite the right word. ‘Different’ might be more appropriate. But a nice different.

Swallowing, Colin moved his hand to hide it from Eloise’s view under his right knee, and he glanced hesitantly at his sister, concerned. She normally never stopped talking.

‘Is something troubling you?’ he asked.

Eloise looked down. ‘Penelope was at our house today,’ she said heavily.

Colin turned away, his heart sinking. He had hoped that he and Penelope had managed to get away with today without being seen. Alas, now their secret was out.

‘I am sorry for that,’ he said. ‘But it is…difficult to know how to act when, still, I do not know what happened between the two of you.’

Eloise inhaled and turned back to the window, determinedly not looking at him. ‘We simply grew apart.’

Colin scoffed softly; what sort of an answer was that? ‘Yes, you have said that. Do you wish for me to cast her out?’

‘No. I do not wish for her to be friendless, and you might be all she has now,’ Eloise said, and Colin frowned to himself as he realised that Eloise may be right – there may be no one else in Penelope’s corner. ‘Perhaps just not at the house?’

Colin nodded; that was reasonable enough. ‘Of course.’

Eloise heaved a deep breath, with her eyes still fixed out of the window. ‘How is she?’ she asked after a few moments, her voice uncharacteristically uncertain.

A small hint of a smile crossed Colin’s face; could there be hope for the two friends after all? ‘Penelope?’

‘I mean…I do not need to know details,’ Eloise said. ‘But I only want to make sure she is not suffering or…despondent.’

‘She is neither suffering nor despondent. In fact, she seeks to take a husband this season,’ Colin said brightly, flickering his eyebrows as he watched Eloise carefully for her reaction.

Eloise scoffed in disbelief. ‘A husband? Penelope?’ she said sceptically, amused.

Colin nodded, a smug smile on his face. ‘Mm-hmm.’

Eloise’s expression faltered. ‘That is…s-so unlike her,’ she murmured.

‘Perhaps she has changed,’ Colin said softly.

He looked ahead while he said this, as if slightly dazed. He was beginning to see now that something really had changed in Penelope. She had showed him other sides of herself that she hadn’t shown him before, like how she could become angry and sarcastic, and not let him get away with things so easily. Or perhaps she hadn’t changed at all, and he simply hadn’t seen the real Penelope until now.

‘She is not seeking a husband in you, I hope?’ Eloise asked sharply, rounding on him.

‘No,’ Colin said at once. ‘I am only…helping her find one.’

A strange look flickered on his face as he looked ahead again. For some reason, the idea of finding Penelope a husband didn’t seem half as appealing as it had done this morning.

Eloise frowned to herself, still trying to contemplate what Colin was saying. ‘Is that wise? What if anyone were to find out about your helping her?’

‘Well…who should help her? She does not have any male relatives,’ Colin pointed out.

‘Yes, but you are an eligible suitor. Perhaps the most eligible right now, strangely,’ Eloise said, and Colin turned away with a roll of his eyes. ‘It would not look right.’

‘No, it would not,’ Colin agreed with a raise of his eyebrows, and he turned to face her. ‘And that is why we are not telling anyone.’

Eloise sat back against the seat and shook her head, still evidently disapproving. ‘It is still a risk. Are you sure she is worth it?’

‘Yes. She is,’ Colin said firmly, and he fixed his sister with a look that told her there was nothing more to be said on the subject.

By the time they reached Osterley House for the ball, a stunning full moon was hanging high in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the magnificent estate. The guests arrived in a procession of glittering carriages, their anticipation palpable as they ascended the stone steps leading to the grand entrance. The Bridgertons approached the entrance together and were mightily impressed as they took in the scene before them.  

The space had been transformed into an ethereal dreamscape, the theme of tonight’s event having clearly been inspired by the celestial beauty of the full moon. The exterior walls of the building were draped in delicate silvery grey fabrics, and purple and silver ribbons were strung between the windows, all fluttering gently in the evening breeze. There were countless exquisite displays of floral arrangements in shades of white and silver, each rose, lily and peony artfully crafted into the shapes of crescent moons and stars. Ladies in shimmering gowns of silk and satin, their hair adorned with jewelled pins and delicate flowers, floated gracefully alongside gentlemen in finely tailored evening coats and breeches as everyone greeted one another and made their way indoors.

Colin was left to himself rather early on at the ball; Eloise, bizarrely, decided to take a turn about the room with some debutantes, while Benedict had been hounded by some ladies and was now on the dance floor with an eager Miss Stowell, and Violet was on the hunt with Francesca for a musically-inclined suitor.

Colin was not allowed to be left on his own for long, though, for soon he found himself being hounded by Miss Goring and a number of other young ladies, all fawning over Colin’s injured hand.

‘Oh, it is nothing. Truly,’ Colin said with a laugh, trying to brush it off.

He pulled his jacket sleeve over the bandage as far as it would go; he did not want any of these ladies touching his hand.

Keen to avoid yet more excitable women vying for his attention, Colin moved further into the house, a magnificent building with its endless rooms, stately columns and sweeping staircases. In the dimly lit ballroom, couples were dancing exuberantly. The Queen sat on a carved chair at the far end of the room, with young debutantes approaching in pairs to greet her and curtsy, each movement a carefully choreographed display of societal perfection. It seemed evident from the buoyant energy in the halls tonight that everyone would be dancing until the break of dawn.

‘She is not seeking a husband in you, I hope?’

Colin blinked rather rapidly as Eloise’s words from earlier ran through his mind yet again. It was funny how that thought had never even crossed Colin’s mind until his sister had broached the idea. The notion was ridiculous, of course; he and Penelope had been friends since childhood. The fact that Eloise had even suggested such a thing as a real possibility was laughable.

His fingers subconsciously began to stroke the handkerchief on his hand from where he had cut it earlier today, and he moved on from the ballroom into another room, scanning the periphery for a sign of his friend. He looked towards the walls by instinct, for that was where Penelope could normally be found, and he grew slowly more anxious as he realised that she wasn’t there.

But then he saw her.

Colin stopped as he watched her chuckling lightly not too far away with her brothers-in-law. He had been looking out for her since the moment he and his family had arrived at the ball, and he felt his shoulders immediately relax at the sight of her.

Penelope was dressed in a sparkling pale blue gown, with delicate embroidery and sequins shaped in celestial patterns to match the theme of tonight’s event. Once again, the embellishments were subtle and there were no bows, feathers or bright colours. It was simply her true personality shining through.

She looked beautiful. There was no other word for it. She really did look beautiful.

Penelope’s laughter faded the moment she caught sight of Colin watching her, and her heart leapt uncomfortably. Would he still want to speak with her, despite what had happened earlier today?

But then Colin smiled at her, a genuine, precious smile that gave her the courage to slowly approach him.

Penelope gave him a tentative smile as she stood before him. ‘Good evening,’ she said.

Colin dipped his chin and smiled rather bashfully. He was feeling rather shy all of a sudden, even nervous. He wanted so very much to be reassured that all was still well between them after their time together today.

He was not the only one who felt a little self-conscious and embarrassed. That moment as she had tended to his hand had felt a little charged, and they both knew she had read of his intimate experiences, something no friend or lady should have done. Penelope wasn’t sure if she was over-thinking and imagining things, or if there truly was a strange atmosphere between them, but something was different tonight, of that there could be no doubt.

Colin glanced back up at Penelope, wearing a soft expression. Her hair was pinned up, with soft curls at the front hanging down to frame her face. It looked so lovely.

‘How is your hand?’ Penelope asked.

Colin held up his bandaged hand, stroking the handkerchief. ‘Much better,’ he said gently, and he gave her a warm smile, ‘thanks to you.’

‘I am sorry again for reading your writing,’ Penelope said; she felt they couldn’t just ignore the issue, when it was clearly playing on both their minds. ‘But you truly write so well. You make it seem effortless, which is so difficult to do.’

In truth, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. The words he had written in that journal had certainly not been the words of a heartless rake, as he had been pretending to be. His words had been true and sensitive. His words had been poetic and had feeling. And his words had had Penelope lost in a daydream all afternoon, her mind filled with such forbidden fantasies that it made her almost blush just to recall them.

Colin didn’t really know what to say. He smiled and dipped his chin again, embarrassed but also rather happy. He had been receiving so many flattering compliments these past few weeks, and yet it was Penelope’s affirmation of his writing that made him feel most pleased. It also made him rather amused; did she know that Colin now knew which entry it was she had read? Did she even care?

‘I would very much like to read more one day,’ Penelope went on, and Colin met her gaze thoughtfully, ‘if you would let me.’

Colin felt rather touched. Only Penelope ever truly saw him and all he hoped to be – the man who dearly wished to be a successful writer, not the man desperately pretending to be one of the popular men amongst the ton. For some reason, he didn’t mind anymore that she could see through his façade. Yes, it made him feel more vulnerable around her, but that wasn’t particularly a bad thing. It also made him feel closer to her as well. She truly was a most beloved friend to him. He wished he hadn’t taken her for granted so much previously; this past week spending more frequent time with her had been thoroughly enjoyable, he had to admit.

He gazed at her for a moment as he considered her request, an intrigued smile on his face. She seemed remarkably unabashed, considering she had essentially just asked if she could read more of his intimate thoughts on his sexual exploits. He wondered if it was the content of that particular passage that she had been so engrossed in that she wanted to read more of, or if she would be happy with merely anything. He could never be sure with Penelope; she was quiet and shy on the outside, but deep inside she was full of surprises, as he had learnt over the past couple of years.

‘Should we make an agreement?’ he said, tilting his head at her. ‘I will consider it if you speak to at least one lord tonight.’

Penelope nodded; that was fair enough. ‘Very well,’ she said.

Colin looked at her in surprise. He had assumed, or perhaps even hoped, that Penelope would say no. A little part of him felt slightly disappointed that she was keen to rise to the challenge; he had been looking forward to spending this evening bantering with her by the wall, as they nearly always did.

‘Whom do you suggest?’ Penelope asked.

Colin looked around thoughtfully, a playful smile on his face; Penelope’s eyes ran up and down his lean figure and smart clothes appreciatively as he searched the room for her. ‘Mm,’ he said, and then he noticed a slight, dark-haired lord appearing nearby to survey the food on the refreshments table. ‘Him. Lord Basilio.’

Penelope glanced at Lord Basilio, then back at Colin with an exasperated look on her face. ‘Lord Basilio is a viscount,’ she protested.

‘And you are Penelope Featherington, do not forget that,’ Colin said encouragingly. 

Penelope’s heart skipped a beat as she took in his kind words and warm smile, and she smiled at him, rather touched. He may not reciprocate her feelings, but he did seem to genuinely regard her highly. He saw her as enough to get any man she could want just by being herself. It meant the world, to have him raise her confidence and give her the courage she so badly needed.

Colin tilted his head in Lord Basilio’s direction. ‘He’s all yours,’ he said.

Penelope gave him such a heart-warming gaze and smile in that moment that Colin could feel his cheeks beginning to colour somewhat.

As she slowly moved away towards her target, Colin smiled fondly and raised his eyes to the ceiling in endearment. There had been a strange shift in their dynamic, he could not deny it, even though he could not quite place his finger on what form that shift had taken. He quite liked it, though, whatever it was.

He turned to watch as Penelope sidled up to Lord Basilio, a clean-cut young man of South East Asian heritage.

‘Good evening, Miss Featherington,’ Lord Basilio greeted politely.

Penelope turned to him in mock surprise. ‘Oh! Lord Basilio, I did not see you there,’ she said, in her most feminine voice.

‘No matter. I cultivate reserve these days anyway,’ Lord Basilio said with a smile.

‘Life is too short for that, is it not?’ Penelope said, gazing off dramatically.

Colin bit back a smile. He felt amused, and rather proud, as he watched her tilt her head to the side and flick her hair back slightly while she conversed with the gentleman. She was gaining confidence; that was very good to see.

Penelope’s heart was skipping giddily; this was going rather well so far.

No sooner had that thought crossed her mind than Lord Basilio then quivered and began to breathe shakily. He looked rather upset.

‘Lord Basilio, are you quite well?’ she asked, reaching out instinctively to touch his arm.

Colin’s smiled disappeared at once, and his jaw clenched as he watched them with sharp eyes. What was she doing touching Lord Basilio? That wasn’t appropriate at all, surely she knew that? But then he noticed Lord Basilio’s expression as they continued to talk; he looked rather distressed.

‘He went quite quickly,’ Lord Basilio was saying, taking out a handkerchief. ‘Sorry. Excuse me.’

Lord Basilio then hurried away, blowing his nose. Flabbergasted, Colin strode over to Penelope, who appeared frozen by the refreshments table. 

‘Pen,’ he said, joining her, ‘what happened?’

Penelope looked mortified, yet also like she was trying extremely hard not to laugh. ‘His horse recently died,’ she replied in a strained voice.

Colin gaped at her; what were the chances? ‘You are joking,’ he said, unable to keep the amused smile from his face.

‘I am not,’ Penelope said, smiling as well, and Colin chuckled. ‘Colin!’

Colin tried to maintain a straight face. ‘Forgive me. Um, I did not know,’ he said, and he sighed as he looked around for other prospective suitors. ‘Surely someone here is not in mourning. We shall gallop along.’

Penelope burst out laughing. ‘Colin!’ she chastised, covering her mouth with her hand, and Colin laughed as well.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed so much. Then again, the only times he had ever properly laughed at balls had been with Penelope, the two of them gossiping and giggling away together in the corner. It was how it had always been, really.

Once their laughter had died down, Colin then began to look around the room. ‘Hmm…I cannot really see anyone else here worthy of your time,’ he said, and Penelope frowned; she could see plenty of eligible male suitors lingering about nearby. ‘Perhaps we could move along to a different room and see who we find.’

‘Before we do, may I ask you something?’ Penelope said tentatively.

Colin smiled. ‘Of course.’

‘What was…the rest of today’s lesson going to cover, at your house?’ she asked, intrigued. ‘Only…I got the impression you had got more planned, if Eloise had not returned early.’

Colin chuckled. ‘You are right. My agenda was simple: to practice the art of flirtation and exchanging pleasantries with a suitor-’

‘Which I failed at-’

‘Which…you made a bold start at,’ Colin said, and they both laughed, their cheeks reddening slightly as they remembered her comment about his eyes. ‘And then how to respond when a gentleman asks you for a dance. And then we were going to practice dancing and what one should discuss during the dance. That was…what I had in mind, anyway.’

He looked down then, somewhat embarrassed; he hadn’t meant for her to know just how much thought and planning had gone into today.

Penelope tilted her head at him. ‘Colin, I know how to dance, I have been doing so for years.’

‘Yes, but have you ever danced with a gentleman you would like to court you?’ Colin pointed out, raising his eyebrows.

Penelope’s lips parted as she looked at him, and a silence fell for a moment. She quickly averted her gaze when she saw his expression falter slightly.

Colin swallowed. ‘Perhaps we could try resuming our lessons now?’ he suggested.

‘What, here?’ Penelope said exasperatedly. ‘Colin, we are at a ball, we cannot be seen with one another for too long.’

‘Why not?’ Colin said with a shrug. ‘Everyone here knows us, they shall think nothing of it, they know we are friends.’

‘Yes, but we are not children anymore. You are now the catch of the season, and I no longer look like a citrus fruit,’ Penelope said, and Colin threw back his head and laughed. ‘I am serious, they may see things differently now.’

‘It shall be fine,’ Colin insisted. ‘Do you trust me?’

Penelope considered him for a moment. ‘Yes,’ she said begrudgingly.

‘Very well. So, this time, let us…try things the other way around,’ Colin said in an encouraging tone of voice.

‘Wh-what do you mean?’ Penelope said, feeling rather daunted.

‘Instead of you speaking to me as if I were a suitor, I shall speak to you as if I am a gentleman who is interested in you,’ Colin said. ‘And then you can practice how to respond.’

Penelope stared at him in horror. ‘I…I do not think this is a good idea.’

‘Humour me,’ Colin said, in a deep, irresistible voice, and his lips twitched. ‘Just try it, please?’

She exhaled heavily. ‘You are wearisome, you know.’

He grinned. ‘It is a gift of mine, to be sure. Now, I am going to turn my back, and when I turn around, I will be a wealthy, handsome lord wanting to get to know the stunning young lady with the red hair I have just spotted by the refreshments table,’ he said, making Penelope’s heart skip a beat. ‘And you will need to react accordingly. Yes?’

Penelope wanted very much to swear, but instead she simply smirked at him with pursed lips. ‘This is not going to go well, I am warning you now.’

Colin smiled. ‘Nonsense,’ he said, before turning his back, clearing his throat, and then turning back around to her with a swish of his jacket and his head held aloft. ‘Excuse me…it is Miss Featherington, is it not?’

Penelope’s bottom lip was already trembling from the effort of trying not to laugh. ‘It is, my lord.’

‘A pleasure to make your acquaintance,’ Colin said, bowing his head.

‘And yours,’ Penelope said, giving a little curtsy.

‘May I say what lovely…’

But then Colin trailed off, his mouth hanging open hopelessly as he looked at her. He had been about to turn to one of his go-to flirtatious remarks that he saved for charming the ladies of the ton, but in that moment he realised he couldn’t do that, not to his Pen. He couldn’t put on the act for her.

Penelope’s amused grin faded slightly as she watched him falter.

Colin looked down for a brief moment, then looked back at her, the confident mask of the wealthy, handsome lord he had been playing no longer on his face. ‘You look very enchanting tonight, Miss Featherington,’ he said, and he cleared his throat. ‘Your gown is…most beautiful. The colour compliments you very well. It brings out your eyes. And your hair…is utterly divine. I would very much like to request a spot on your dancing card, if it is not already full.’

Penelope gazed at him, stunned, for a moment, then remembered herself and what they were meant to be doing.

‘Wh-why, thank you, my lord,’ she said, her voice rather shaky and unsure, ‘you are most flattering to say so, and I would be honoured to accept…-’

But then she couldn’t help it; she burst into a fit of giggles.

Colin opened his mouth, aghast. ‘Pen, do not laugh!’ he chastised, bemused.

‘I am sorry, I just cannot take this seriously,’ Penelope said, still laughing, as she pressed a hand to her stomach in an effort to try and control herself.

Colin began laughing as well. ‘Is it really so preposterous that I would pay you a complement?’ he said indignantly. ‘I must be a terrible friend if so.’

‘It is not that, it is just…a different type of complement, that is all,’ Penelope said, still amused. ‘From a friend, that is. A friend pretending to flirt.’

Colin frowned slightly. Had he been pretending? He wasn’t sure, come to think of it.

‘Well, regardless of who is paying you the complement, you should take it graciously – and believe it, as well,’ Colin said, and he tilted his head at her, a soft expression on his face. ‘You should have more faith in yourself, Pen.’

Penelope smiled weakly. That was easier said than done.

Colin seemed to be able to read her mind. ‘I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,’ he said gently.

Penelope’s smile faded as her heart began to race. Why did he keep having to say and do things that made it so much harder for her to push aside what her heart longed for?

‘Well, I think you are the only one who thinks well of me at present. Even my own family, they…’ Penelope’s voice wavered unevenly, but then she shook her head and inhaled sharply. ‘Well, it does not matter – or it will not for much longer, anyway, because I shall soon be out of that house if we continue with our endeavours.’

Colin forced a smile as he nodded at her, trying to conceal his concerned frown. ‘Precisely the right sort of attitude to get us through the rest of this ball,’ he said determinedly. ‘Now, let us find the next suitor to target.’

He had begun to lead the way towards the next room, but Penelope hung back with a grimace.

‘Oh, may we not take a respite first before I try again?’ she said.

Colin turned back to her with an exasperated smile. ‘Pen!’ he said, amused. ‘You have spoken to one gentleman so far at this ball.’

‘I have spoken to you as well, have I not?’ Penelope pointed out.

Colin frowned. ‘Well, yes, but you are not counting me, are you?’

‘I…no,’ Penelope said, after a slight hesitation, and she exhaled and looked down. ‘No, of course not. But…surely you have better things to do and better people to socialise with, you do not wish to be lumbered with me for hours on end. You have many admirers waiting for you to take to the dance floor.’

‘Well, they will be disappointed, for my mission tonight is clear – to help secure you a suitor to call on you this week,’ Colin said, smirking as he leaned towards her.

‘Call on me? This week?’ Penelope said incredulously. ‘You cannot be serious.’

‘I am very serious, and such an event is very probable too, look at you,’ he said, his eyes running over her dress and hair again without even realising, and Penelope felt herself blush. ‘You just need to stop hiding yourself away.’

‘But…’

‘But what?’

Penelope sighed. ‘We have spent all this time focussing on me and my wishes for a husband, and we have barely had time to…discuss other matters.’

‘What other matters?’ Colin said, confused.

Penelope shook her head at him with a weary smile. ‘You, Colin. I have not even asked you about your time away in Europe.’

Colin cocked an eyebrow at her. ‘Well, you read about some of it, if you recall,’ he said, his lips twitching playfully.

Penelope closed her eyes, mortified. ‘Are you trying to embarrass me?’

‘You were the one who brought it up!’

‘I meant…other aspects of your trip,’ Penelope said, her cheeks still rather red. ‘Seventeen cities, you said? It must have been so fascinating.’

Colin looked down, as if embarrassed. ‘Oh, well, I…’

He trailed off uncertainly. He had got used to responding to such questions by either brushing it off, or providing cheeky, flirtatious remarks about how the tales of his travels were far too scandalous to share. But then he realised that Penelope was not one of his simpering admirers, nor a judgemental man who found such discussions terribly dull. This time, he was speaking to someone who actually cared about the more important parts of his adventures abroad.

He swallowed as he looked back up at her. ‘You truly wish to know?’ he asked, his voice rather small, as if he were a young boy again, hesitant and hopeful.

Penelope smiled warmly. ‘Of course.’

‘I do not wish to bore you.’

Penelope’s smile only grew. ‘You could never bore me, Colin,’ she said, her gaze heart-warming and encouraging.

And so he told her. He told her all the things he had been bursting to tell everyone about since he had returned, yet had refrained from doing so.

He talked about Geneva, with its serene sparkling lake and majestic mountains. He gushed about Vienna, and the opera he attended there. And then there was Prague, with its fairytale bridge, castle and cathedral. In Italy, he had visited the Tuscan countryside and its gorgeous vineyards, explored the gardens and architecture of Florence, visited the breathtaking Colosseum and Vatican in Rome, and wandered the labyrinthine streets, bridges and canals of Venice, even attending a grand masquerade ball there during one particularly spectacular evening. He also spoke of the festivals he enjoyed in Munich, the arts exhibitions he had attended in Berlin, and the intricate canals and vibrant tulip markets he had been to in Amsterdam. And then of course there was Paris, where he had strolled along the Seine, visited the Notre-Dame Cathedral, spent evenings at lavish salons – though he was too embarrassed to go into finer details about those evenings, for he knew Penelope was all too aware of his nightly activities while in Paris – and attended opulent balls at the Palace of Versailles.

Penelope was in awe as Colin spoke so animatedly about his trips. He seemed to have immersed himself so deeply in each of the cultures, and had taken away so much from his experiences in each city. In that moment, the old Colin seemed to have returned.

‘It sounds absolutely wonderful, Colin,’ Penelope said, beaming. ‘I hope you wrote this all down in great detail in your journal.’

‘I…I did, as a matter of fact,’ Colin said, feeling so very happy now that he’d finally let himself gush about his exciting travels.

‘People would find it so fascinating.’

Colin frowned doubtfully. ‘Do you really think so?’

‘Truly,’ Penelope said, her voice earnest as she gazed up at him.

Colin gazed back at her for a moment, and smiled. She really was such a very good friend.

‘I should add…that even when I was seeing all those remarkable places and experiencing wonders I never thought possible…there was still a large part of me that longed very much for home. The familiar faces, the comfort of London, and…well, my close friends,’ Colin said, looking at her warmly.

Penelope’s lips parted into a smile. She tried to think of something to say, but she was rather stumped. It was only then, in the silence that had fallen between them, that Penelope glanced to the side and noticed that a few people were peering curiously over at them.

Penelope swallowed. ‘Perhaps we should…move elsewhere,’ she suggested, averting her gazed and shuffling awkwardly.

Colin frowned and looked around. He wasn’t aware of how long he and Penelope had been stood talking by this refreshments table, but obviously it was too long to be considered proper, for a few people were starting to eye them.

He nodded at once. ‘Of course.’

‘Or I can…go somewhere else-’

‘Nonsense,’ Colin said before she could finish. ‘Come on.’

He led the way into the next hall, and then through into the main ballroom, where couples were dancing energetically. The ballroom was incredibly hot and everyone’s foreheads were glistening with sweat. As Colin and Penelope walked alongside the periphery, Penelope locked eyes with Lady Danbury, who was striding across the room. She gave her an approving nod and a smile as she neared to them.

‘You are looking superb, Miss Featherington,’ Lady Danbury said with relish, stopping Penelope and Colin in their tracks.

‘Wh-why, thank you, Lady Danbury,’ Penelope said, astonished.

‘Mm,’ Lady Danbury said with a chuckle, and she then looked up at Colin, stood beside Penelope.

Colin smiled back at her, but then felt his expression falter; he felt like Lady Danbury was staring into his very soul. She glanced back at Penelope, then raised her eyebrows knowingly at Colin.

‘Enjoy your evening, both of you,’ she said, her eyebrows halfway up her forehead as she fixed Colin with a sharp look and a twitch of her lips before turning to mingle with the other guests.

Colin stared after her as she went, bewildered. ‘Lady Danbury has always been rather…intimidating, do you not think?’

‘I think she is wonderful,’ Penelope said fondly, a huge smile on her face as she watched Lady Danbury’s retreating figure.

‘Well, yes, that as well. She is my mother’s dearest friend,’ Colin said, as they both looked around the stuffy ballroom.

‘Shall we go outside for some fresh air?’ Penelope suggested. ‘It is rather warm in here.’

‘Yes, a good idea. Unless you would like to…?’

Colin let the words hang there for a moment, suddenly unsure. He wanted to ask her to dance. Not because it would leave the gentlemen here intrigued and perhaps wanting to get in line to dance with Penelope, but because he truly wanted to.

But then he saw Penelope’s confused, questioning gaze, and he shook his head.

‘No, yes, let us go outside,’ he said decisively.

He gestured with his arm towards the doors, and together, the two of them walked out into the moonlight, exchanging a somewhat nervous smile as they went.

Chapter Text

Colin and Penelope emerged onto a stunning courtyard open to the night sky, where the full moon’s light cast intricate shadows on the stone floor. Many guests in resplendent attire had settled in this enchanting space, taking a break from the dancing indoors to mingle.

Penelope was in awe of the architecture and decorations. The intricate mouldings and geometric flooring echoed the splendour of ancient Greece and Rome, while arched niches held statues of mythical figures, each one bathed in the ambient glow of strategically placed candles. Luscious white floral arrangements adorned every surface, and tables were laden with delicacies shaped like stars and moons, each morsel a tiny work of art.

They had only been out here for a few minutes when Colin was pulled away from Penelope to talk with some gentlemen. Penelope did not mind, for she was in remarkably high spirits; she was quite certain that this was the most enjoyable ball she had ever been to, ever since she had made her debut. Although, she was quite aware that the reason for that was most likely because Colin had been glued to her side speaking and laughing with her for most of the evening so far.

Penelope looked around, wondering if she could find anyone who looked remotely amiable or pleasing – she should be able to select a man to talk to without Colin’s guidance, after all – when she caught sight of Prudence and Philippa, both sneaking off with Albion and Finch while casting shifty glances towards the crowd of guests. Penelope pressed her lips together in a smirk as she watched them hurry away to find their carriages.

Her eyes then fell on Lord Remington, a young lord using a leather-cushioned three-wheeled chair, seated by the refreshments table. Beside the table stood a magnificent flower arrangement shaped like a full moon, accompanied by sixteen smaller floral displays representing the different phases of the moon; it was extraordinary. Penelope slowly meandered over towards Lord Remington and helped herself to a glass of lemonade from the table.

‘Good evening, Lord Remington,’ she said, surprised to find that her voice did not sound remotely nervous.

‘Miss Featherington,’ Lord Remington greeted, seeming genuinely pleased to see her. ‘It is a fine evening, is it not?’

‘I suppose so,’ Penelope said demurely, after taking a sip of her lemonade.

A few metres away, Colin was in the midst of an amusing conversation with a couple of distinguished older gentlemen who had beckoned him over, when he then noticed that Penelope had drifted away from him. His wide smile faltered at once as he looked over to see that she was by the refreshments table and seemed to have engaged Lord Remington in conversation. He frowned slightly; he didn’t remember suggesting Lord Remington as an option.

At the refreshments table, Lord Remington seemed keen to strike up a conversation. ‘I heard Her Majesty has yet to choose a Diamond, and it has caused some…consternation with your fellow young ladies,’ he said, sounding rather fascinated.

‘I do not much care for idle gossip,’ Penelope said, unaware of Colin’s eyes fixed on her from not too far away.

‘Truly, you are a more resolute person than I,’ Lord Remington said, grinning. ‘I love a bit of gossip. Perhaps I should not be so eager, but on days Whistledown is delivered, I sit by the door and read it as soon as it arrives.’

Penelope’s eyes lit up excitedly, his words immediately making her spirit soar. ‘Do you?’ she said keenly, taking a step closer to him. ‘I-I must admit, I do quite enjoy Whistledown.’

Colin was barely aware of what the gentlemen around him were talking about anymore; he couldn’t stop watching Penelope and her new admirer, a curious gaze on his face. Lord Remington was grinning up at Penelope in a way he wasn’t particularly keen on. Irritatingly, Penelope did not seem to mind the gentleman’s attentions; on the contrary, she seemed thoroughly engaged, even enthralled, with their conversation.

It was heartwarming to see Penelope beaming so genuinely, truly. She could make the whole world shine with that smile of hers. It was only a little odd that she was smiling so animatedly around someone that was not…well, either him or Eloise.

‘Did you read the passage about Lady Carter’s housekeeper? That Lady Houghton stole her, and that is why Lady Carter fell off tonight’s guest list?’ Lord Remington said eagerly.

Penelope chuckled softly. ‘Yes, I did read that. Lady Houghton will not be pleased the matter is now general knowledge, I am sure.’

‘Well, I would argue she deserves it – Lady Whistledown only reprimands those who are guilty, after all,’ Lord Remington said, as Penelope’s beam widened. ‘She is most ingenious, I think, whoever she is.’

‘I-I quite agree,’ Penelope said, feeling quite delighted.

Colin frowned slightly as he continued to watch them both from afar, a little perturbed, and he tilted his head. This was new. Penelope wasn’t holding herself differently or speaking with words that were not her own; in fact, she didn’t appear to be putting on an act at all. Indeed, she looked just as she would if she had been having a conversation with Colin himself. For some reason, that made Colin feel rather put out.

He wasn’t jealous, of course he wasn’t, that was not what this was. He was simply watching over his friend, and unsure as to whether this suitor was worthy of her time. He did not wish for her end up hurt, misled, or end up with the wrong type of man, after all.

Colin then saw that Penelope had turned and noticed him watching. She had a giddy smile on her face, and was clearly expecting him to be cheering her on. Forcing a smile, Colin raised his glass in her direction.

The moment she turned back to Lord Remington, Colin gulped down his drink rather aggressively. It was clear to anyone who may be watching that Lord Remington liked her. And why would he not? She was being herself around him, warm and funny and lovely, and she looked absolutely radiant. Perhaps she liked him back. Perhaps she wanted Lord Remington to court her.

Colin turned away briefly and scowled, annoyed with himself; he knew that there was a fine line between being protective and being possessive, but in this moment he was struggling to determine which one he had fallen prey to. He was just a little taken aback to see Penelope behaving like this around another gentleman, that was all. He had thought she only saved her true self for her closest friends, but she had clearly taken his advice from the market the other day, and it was working a charm.

He noticed then that a manservant was ushering Lord Remington away, and he and Penelope were bidding one another farewell.

Colin turned to his companions at once. ‘Gentlemen, if you will excuse me,’ he said, and, without waiting for an answer, he turned and began walking towards Penelope.

He forced a stiff nod and smile at Lord Remington as he was wheeled past him on his chair, and looked up as he approached the refreshments table; Penelope looked quite breathless, her face flushed with giddy disbelief.

‘Colin – Lord Remington has asked to call on me tomorrow,’ she said the moment he reached her, thrilled.

‘Well, that is excellent,’ Colin said, trying to ignore the strange ache in his chest as he watched her carefully; she looked most enamoured. ‘Do you…like him?’

Penelope pressed her smiling lips together as she gazed up at him, repressing the urge to giggle. ‘I did enjoy myself,’ she admitted, blushing. ‘Very much.’

She meant it; it was the first time she had spoken to a gentleman she had never known before without really needing to think about what to say. There had been a genuine connection there, she was sure of it. And Lord Remington seemed to have delighted in her company.

Colin could not even force a smile as he took in her giddy expression. ‘I am certain he did as well,’ he said, looking down.

He felt rather odd. The whole purpose of their lessons had been for him to guide her in the right way to attract a suitor; he had done so, and she now had a gentleman all set to call on her. Their time spent together had been valuable indeed.

But Colin hadn’t been expecting their efforts to work so soon. He’d been assuming that they would have more time together, having fun at the markets and the park, and sharing laughter at a whole variety of social assemblies. How long would that be able to continue though, if Penelope already had a caller lined up? What if she really did find a husband this season? What would that mean for their friendship?

His heart was already sinking, but it sank to much lower depths when he then heard the rather carrying, sneering whisper of Clara Livingston’s voice as she lingered nearby.

‘It is rather unseemly that Miss Featherington took his help. Pitiable, I think.’

Penelope jerked her head around, her smile slowly fading.

‘It is kind of him, but, uh…perhaps overly so,’ Lady Cowper was saying to the other mamas, her lips twitching.

Colin frowned as he looked up at them all, groups of them staring and whispering.

No, no, no. Please, no.

‘Wouldn’t you believe…?’

‘She’s done for.’

The whispers continued, echoing around what felt like the entire courtyard, and Penelope was almost numb as she watched it all unfold before her. This couldn’t be happening, surely? Not when things had finally started to go well for her?

Colin stepped forward, having had enough. ‘Pardon me, what are you whispering about?’ he asked Miss Livingston.

Lady Livingston answered on behalf of her daughter. ‘Mr. Bridgerton, we were wondering why an eligible gentleman such as yourself would help a spinster find a husband,’ she said, a rather amused look on her face as she raised her eyebrows at him.

Penelope couldn’t believe it. She felt like she had been floating on air merely seconds ago. Now, she felt like she was falling.

‘Especially someone who is so beyond hope of success,’ Lady Hanbury added, eyeing Colin with intrigue, and she and the other mamas began to chuckle.

Colin was horrified. How could they have known? How could anyone have found out? And how could they be so cruel about it?

‘Mmm…it’s actually all rather sad,’ Lady Livingston went on, as Penelope’s eyes darted frantically, taking in all the pairs of eyes staring at her.

Penelope felt like she wanted to throw up, or sink through the floor, or possibly both. Their sneering faces and veiled mockery and taunts were all a blur to her now; the whole room was spinning, and their whispers and giggling were like a buzzing in her ears. She had changed her wardrobe, she had tried to be braver, she had tried to be more confident and step out of the shadows, and yet no matter what she did she was still the outcast, always overlooked, always bullied, always the joke of the entire ton. And now all of her new hopes had been shattered, and she could not bear it.

Trying to remain calm, Penelope quickly turned to set down her drink on the refreshments table, and then hastened away. She could not give the entire ton the satisfaction of knowing how distressed she was.

Colin had just been about to reprimand the mamas for their derogatory words when he heard Penelope’s heels as she absconded; he whipped around quickly to see her go, and followed her.

‘Pen – wait!’ he said, hurrying after her.

But Penelope ignored him and marched on through the crowd of staring, pitying guests, her breaths coming out in unsteady gasps as she fought back tears.

‘I cannot wait to know what Lady Whistledown will write about this!’ Miss Barragan was saying excitedly as Penelope paused by the steps.

‘It will surely be the main interest of her next edition,’ Miss Goring said, laughing gleefully with her friend.

Penelope took off down the steps, her face scrunched up in anguish.

Colin ran after her, his heart pounding.

It’s all my fault, it’s all my fault, he kept thinking.

Why had he thought it would be a good idea to interfere with Penelope’s efforts on the marriage mart? He had been so desperate to win back her friendship that he hadn’t really stopped to truly think of the consequences of their little arrangement.

Colin knew he’d catch up with Penelope easily, but paused when he noticed that Eloise had emerged and was hurrying down the steps after Penelope as well. His mouth opened angrily. He knew that there was only one reason why Eloise would be following Penelope after being so determined not to be anywhere near her: because she felt bad.

‘Eloise!’ Colin called after her, and Eloise halted in her tracks as he reached her. ‘Did you tell anyone of my helping Penelope?’

It was as he had suspected; Eloise looked guilt-ridden. ‘N-no. I did…I did not mean to-’

‘Which means you did!’ Colin said sharply, furious.

Eloise looked anguished as she struggled on. ‘I-I confided in…Cressida-’

‘Because you thought you could trust her?’ Colin snapped incredulously, his voice loud and angry. ‘Why you are friends with Cressida in place of Penelope, I will never understand. What could Penelope possibly have done to warrant such maltreatment?’

Scowling at her, he then turned and stormed off hurriedly down the steps; he knew there might still be a chance he could reach Penelope before she found a carriage to depart in.

He caught sight of her dress, the sequins twinkling in the moonlight, not far down the road; she was rushing towards the Featherington’s family carriage lined up alongside other carriages and hackney coaches.

‘Pen, wait!’ Colin called after her desperately, and he quickened his pace as he ran over to her. ‘Do not go!’

Penelope faltered and turned around, her face streaked with tears. ‘What?’ she said, her voice an incredulous whimper.

Colin reached her, panting heavily. ‘Do not give them the satisfaction of getting to you!’ he said. ‘Do not show those wretched people you care what they think-’

‘But I do care!’ Penelope interrupted, her eyes glistening, her expression heartbreaking. ‘And they are right! Everything they are saying about me in there! This whole scheme was a ridiculous idea in the first place-’

But Colin was shaking his head earnestly. ‘It was no scheme, there is nothing wrong with what we have been doing, it is a friend merely helping another friend. I am sorry that it somehow has got out but-’

‘I am not blaming you!’ Penelope said, her voice loud and shaky. ‘I was foolish enough to agree to it, just because it was you-’

‘Wh-what do you mean?’ Colin said, confused.

Penelope did not answer. ‘Colin, what are you doing?’ she said, stepping away from him and shaking her head. ‘People were watching, they will have seen you come after me. You know what Whistledown will write of this, you need to go back in, your reputation will be in tatters if you continue to associate with me-’

‘No,’ Colin cut over her, shaking his head fiercely.

Right now, his new reputation that he had so carefully built since returning to London meant nought to him. The only thing he cared about was his tearful, humiliated friend gazing at him in dismay.

‘You know I speak the truth!’

She was already turning away; Colin dived forward and grabbed her by the wrist, stopping her.

‘Pen, I am not leaving you!’ he said loudly, his breathing heavy.

Penelope stared at him in shock, and then glanced down. Colin followed her gaze and was surprised to see that his fingers were no longer gripped around her wrist; they had trailed down and were now holding onto her hand desperately. It was only due to the darkness of the night sky, the distance from the main house, and the emptiness of this road that they were able to elude repercussions for such a thing.

He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. ‘At least let someone accompany you back home,’ he said, almost pleadingly. ‘Your family, a maid, me, anyone!’

But a sad, bitter smile formed on Penelope’s lips as she shook her head at him. ‘I am going to be on my own for the rest of my life, Colin. I might as well get used to it,’ she said, her voice trembling as another tear trickled down her cheek. ‘Now please, let go of me.’

Her voice was firm, but Colin did not move. How could he let her go when she was like this, in such despair?

A few moments passed as the two of them gazed fiercely at each other, both of them breathing heavily.

‘Colin!’

Penelope almost shouted the word, and it shocked him enough to relinquish his hold of her hand. Penelope snatched her hand back at once and gazed at him, her chin quivering, for a brief moment before doing the only thing she could think of: she turned and ran.

Colin watched her hopelessly as she scrambled up into her carriage and drove off into the night. The moment her carriage had disappeared from view into the dark mist, he swore loudly and kicked the gravel in anger, his hands gripping his hair.

What a mess he had caused.

Scowling, Colin then hurried back towards the ball. When he reached the grand courtyard, he marched right up to the group where the gossiping had started; Lady Cowper, Lady Hanbury, and Lady Livingston and her daughter,.

‘I hope you are all proud of yourselves,’ he snapped, without hesitation.

Lady Livingston looked rather alarmed, and she smiled nervously at him. ‘Mr. Bridgerton, we were merely-’

‘You were merely wanting to belittle and humiliate a kind young lady who has never committed a single sin against any of you,’ Colin said sharply, fixing all of them with a stony glare. ‘What exemplary women of society you all are.’

Shaking his head in disgust at them, he then stalked away, fuming.

He had only made it a few steps when he felt his mother’s arm reaching out for him.

‘Err, Colin, dearest?’ Violet said, rather tentatively. ‘I have just heard-’

‘I was merely trying to help a friend!’ Colin cut over her, indignant. ‘Why should she be scolded for that? Why are all these people here so bloody cruel?’

He was incensed. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so angry or upset. His foolish arrangement with Penelope might very well have cost him his friendship with her, and any time he could spend in her company – not to mention her future hopes of obtaining suitors, which had been the whole point of this endeavour. He had ruined everything.

Violet’s eyes widened in horror. ‘Please calm yourself, my dear,’ she said, lowering her voice as she stroked his arm and tried to block him from view of the crowd, ‘people are watching.’

Colin exhaled shakily. ‘I will be calm when the ton finally treats Penelope with the respect and kindness she deserves. I am leaving,’ he said sharply. ‘Goodnight, Mother.’

And with that, he stormed off into the night.

Chapter Text

By the light of the moon, it is easy for one to mistake the night as a place of safety. Which is why, perhaps, both Featherington sisters snuck away early last night with their husbands. But one must never forget that, despite the cover of night, there are still eyes upon us all at all times.

We know there is one young lady who most certainly wishes her plans had remained in the dark. Penelope Featherington, who was so certain that she would not find a husband on her own, that she had to enlist the help of Mr. Colin Bridgerton. And while we knew Miss Featherington’s marital prospects were slim at best, this recent scandal will certainly make any further hopes disappear.

This author would not be surprised if Miss Featherington should wish to return to her familiar shadows once and for all. Perhaps a return to the shadows is for the best. After all, a small taste of the light can lead to that most dangerous of emotions: hope. And once hope is lost, a lady may become reckless.

It was the third time in her life that Penelope had sent off a new Lady Whistledown manuscript to be printed while already filled with utter regret and nausea. She did not want it published, not one bit. But her humiliation had been too public to ignore, this was the path she had chosen, and she had to play by her own rules…even if it meant shaming herself in a manner that was almost entirely unsalvageable.

Penelope barely slept a wink that night, and by late the next morning, as she watched the delivery boys running about the streets across Grosvenor Square to deliver her latest edition, she was absolutely furious. Numb and devastated, to be sure, but furious as well.

Why was it that with every year that passed, she grew more stupid? She should have become wiser with age, but it seemed she never learnt from her mistakes. She should have given up Lady Whistledown once and for all after she had almost ruined Eloise last season, just as she had intended. But no, her ego, her addiction and her desire for control over one element of her life had taken over all logic and reason, and now she was paying the price for it, adding her own name to her list of bullies.

What a fool she had been, to land herself in this mess.

Calling hour came and went, and Lord Remington made no appearance. She could not blame him.

For most of the day, Penelope remained in the window seat of her bedchamber as she gazed out sadly across the square at Bridgerton House. She found herself wondering what Colin was thinking right now, as her humiliation was circulated amongst the ton. No doubt he regretted ever offering to help her. He would be teased relentlessly by all the gentlemen in the ton, as his new unfeeling persona had somewhat been tarnished now by his act of pity towards her.

When Portia strode into her bedchamber later that day, clutching the Whistledown paper, Penelope turned to face her with a heavy heart. She was surprised it had taken her mother this long to confront her, in all honesty.

‘Have you seen this?’ Portia asked, and when Penelope did not answer, she stepped towards her. ‘Tell me it is not true.’

‘I cannot,’ Penelope murmured, unable to meet her mother’s scrutinising glare.

Portia looked up exasperatedly as her arms flopped down to her sides. ‘Oh, Penelope,’ she said in a weary tone of voice, clutching a hand to her forehead, and she turned accusingly to her. ‘How could you be so reckless? This family has already endured so much public scrutiny, and…now this?’

She slammed the paper down on Penelope’s writing desk and began to pace, her hands on her hips. She sighed in despair and closed her eyes.

Penelope didn’t normally feel bad for her mother, but on this occasion she did; she deserved an apology for her behaviour. ‘It was foolish to ask a suitor-’

But Portia cut over her. ‘No, what is foolish is being unreasonable about what you can achieve,’ she said sternly, harsh and honest as always. ‘I had thought that when you bought those dresses, it was only for your amusement, not that you earnestly believed you might find a husband in your third year out!’

The words rang loudly in Penelope’s ears, and she gave a stoic, resigning nod. Her mother had never been one for sugar-coating the truth, at least she could say that. But did she really have to be so very brutal? Penelope didn’t need sinking any lower or reminding of how undesirable she was. She knew it already.

In the silence that followed, Portia’s expression slowly softened, and she gazed down at her downcast daughter with a sigh. ‘A life unmarried is not all bad,’ she said in an uncharacteristically quieter, gentler voice, and Penelope turned to look up at her with teary eyes. ‘Trust me, men can often cause much more trouble than they are worth.’

Penelope looked away, grim-faced. If that was her mother’s idea of being reassuring, then she would rather face her shouting instead.

Portia moved to put a hand on Penelope’s shoulder, as if in some odd attempt to comfort her, but thought better of it at the last minute and absently bit her thumbnail instead. Casting a somewhat stony look at Penelope, Portia then left the room, closing the door behind her.

Penelope closed her eyes and breathed deeply, resting her arm against her face as she continued to lean against the window.

No more crying, she told herself firmly.

But it was difficult, when the heartlessness and cruel but true words of her belittling mother had only further added to Penelope’s misery. She had done nothing all day other than sit alone in this room for hours and hours on end, gazing out of the window with tear-stained eyes at Bridgerton House, dragged down by the knowledge that she only had herself to blame for her situation. She was very familiar with this feeling of solitude and devastation – too familiar, really.

She was also very familiar with this particular window seat and view. For so many years she had sat in this exact spot, a lost, lonely girl with a desperate heart, having faith in the stories she had read of true love and praying for her own story one day. Even though it was blatantly clear now that such a dream would never come to pass, Penelope knew that there was still no escaping that girl she had always been. She could not wish away her hopes to find love, no matter how hard she tried…not even now she had ruined herself for good with her Lady Whistledown issue.

But her mother was right. It was hopeless, now more so than ever, and Penelope was well and truly defeated. She would never be able to attract a suitor. She would never escape her family’s clutches or be able to leave this gaudy house, and she had been foolish to have ever hoped otherwise. She was simply doomed to be forever alone, as some people were. After all, as she had been told previously…being an insipid wallflower was all she was good for.

***

Colin’s arm rested against the long window of the Bridgerton drawing room as he gazed out across the square towards Featherington House, his brow furrowed, today’s Lady Whistledown paper clutched tightly in his other hand. He wasn’t sure whether he felt more angry or dismayed by today’s edition. His dislike for the notorious gossip-writer had grown stronger and stronger over the past two years, but right now he had never loathed her more.

Poor Penelope. It just wasn’t fair. She had been trying so hard. She had even been having a good time at last night’s ball, until the whispers had started. She had looked so happy and beautiful, and so very hopeful for her and Colin’s plan to succeed. He felt terrible – not just for telling Eloise, which had led to their secret getting out, but for being the one to offer Penelope help in the first place. Everyone in the ton no doubt blamed her for something Colin himself had instigated, and he had always known deep down how it would have looked, how damaging it would have been for her, were they to be discovered. He was entirely to blame.

He wished he could do something, anything, to make this all go away, to help her feel better – for no doubt she must be feeling absolutely wretched about what that nasty, odious woman had written of her.

He was distracted from his reverie as Newton then came bounding in, searching the room desperately; it was clear the sweet dog was missing his parents. Hyacinth and Gregory had been having a wonderful time looking after him in Kate’s absence, but still, Newton was his mother’s boy at heart.

Colin bent down to ruffle his fur, a brief smile forming on his face.

‘Ah, he has decided to target you now, has he?’

Colin looked up; Francesca had entered the drawing room, followed closely by Benedict. Colin straightened back to his feet as Newton trotted over to Benedict, his tail wagging madly.

Francesca regarded Colin with a soft expression on her face as she came to stand with him by the window. ‘How are you?’ she asked gently.

‘I am fine,’ Colin said at once, his voice quiet but firm.

He turned his back on the window and Featherington House, and walked away into the centre of the room. He could feel his knuckles grinding as he clutched onto the Lady Whistledown paper.

‘No, I am not,’ he said suddenly, spinning back around to face Francesca and Benedict. ‘Penelope has been utterly ridiculed, and for what? This woman, whoever the blasted writer is, seems set on ruining whoever she can, even when they are the most innocent and caring of people!’

A stunned pause followed. Newton yapped at Benedict, demanding more attention, but Benedict had now stood and was glancing in bewilderment at Francesca, clearly at a loss. Colin never lost his temper. Never.

‘This is all my fault,’ Colin said wearily, closing his eyes as he scrunched up the Whistledown paper and threw it bitterly to the floor. ‘I was the one who suggested our…arrangement, for me to help her. Penelope would never have ended up in Whistledown if it were not for me.’

‘Everyone in the ton ends up in Whistledown at some point, Brother,’ Benedict said. ‘This story is not too bad. It will die down, our family will not suffer because of it.’

Colin shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his mouth. Did Benedict not see? It was not Colin’s or their family’s suffering he was most concerned about. As was always the case with the ton, it was women who were harmed more by any gossip – Colin would come out of this as a kind and self-sacrificing person who had merely taken pity on a friend, whereas Penelope would now be seen as pathetic, desperate, and in no way desirable for any suitors. Whistledown was trying to convince the world that Penelope belonged to the shadows, and nothing could be further than the truth. It was infuriating. It was shameful.

‘But what of Penelope, what of her suffering?’ Colin asked sharply, his forehead creased in concern.

‘A suitor who is worthy of her will not be deterred by one small column from a gossip writer,’ Francesca said reassuringly. ‘Any gentleman put off by such gossip would not be worth entertaining as an option anyway.’

Benedict turned to her, impressed. ‘Such words of wisdom, Sister.’

Francesca smiled meekly. ‘The season is proving to be an education.’

They both turned back to Colin; he had moved once again over to the drawing room window, and had drawn the drapes back to stare at Featherington House.

‘Would you like to join us for some games, Colin?’ Francesca asked. ‘Hyacinth and Gregory are keen to play with their new set of cards.’

Colin hesitated, then looked back at her apologetically. ‘Forgive me, I am not quite in the mood for that today, I may need to…get out of the house, stretch my legs. Please do go on without me though.’

Francesca nodded, a look of understanding on her face.

Benedict smiled as he put his arm around her. ‘Come, Sister. I am sure Colin will find other entertainment elsewhere,’ he said, casting Colin a suggestive smirk before leading their sister out of the drawing room, Newton galloping along excitedly beside them.

Colin turned immediately back to the window. He had been keeping an eye on Featherington House throughout the day ever since Lady Whistledown had been delivered, but he hadn’t once seen Penelope leave. And no wonder.

He knew what he wanted to do, even though he shouldn’t. He couldn’t. Not when all eyes were on the two of them and their reputations were hanging by such a precarious thread.

But it was no use.

He had to go and see her.

***

Night had fallen, the square outside had become deadly quiet, and still Penelope had not moved one inch from her spot by the window, her red-ringed eyes fixed on Bridgerton House while her hand rested lightly on her lips. She truly was at her lowest point. She couldn’t see a way back from this. All that lay beyond this terrible day was an endless black tunnel.

With a gentle knock, Rae then entered Penelope’s darkened bedchamber, a strange look on her face. ‘Miss,’ she said softly. ‘You have a visitor.’

Penelope lowered her hand and stared at her. Surely she must be mistaken.

‘Who?’ she asked, frowning.

At this, Rae simply tilted her head, a hint of a smile appearing on her lips. Penelope knew that look. Rae only wore that look when they were discussing one particular individual.

Penelope’s lips parted. ‘D-do you mean it?’ she asked, bewildered. ‘At this hour?’

‘I can ask him to leave if you would-’

‘No,’ Penelope interrupted at once, getting up to her feet. ‘N-no. I shall see him. No one can know he is here, it would not be proper.’

‘Do not worry,’ Rae said reassuringly, ‘I have asked him to wait in the garden, no one shall see.’

Penelope exhaled deeply and smoothed down her dress before reaching out to touch her loyal maid’s arm. ‘Thank you, Rae,’ she said.

Her heart was racing. A lady receiving a clandestine visit from a gentleman at night was most unseemly. But then again, she and Colin should not have much to worry about; the two of them together did not fit those typical moulds of society. At least, they hadn’t…until last night.

Checking that the coast was clear, Rae led Penelope downstairs, through the servants’ quarters and out of a side door into the dark garden.

When they reached the archway outside, Penelope came to an unsteady halt, her hand reaching out to the brick wall to keep her balance as her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Colin stood before her. She had not actually believed that Rae was correct. But there he was.

She had thought, given the contents of today’s Whistledown issue, that Colin would not want to be seen anywhere near her house for the rest of the season, or that he would be feeling too humiliated to see or speak to her at all. The last thing she had expected would be for him to visit her, alone and at night.

‘What are you doing here?’ she asked him in a slightly nervous voice.

Colin was rather taken aback; despite her despondent expression, she looked ethereal in the shine of the moonlight, with her shimmering pale green dress and her hair loose and flowing down in gentle curls. He had never seen her hair down like that before. He supposed he wasn’t really meant to, given the late hour; it was custom that only family members could see ladies with their hair down. But he and Penelope were almost like family in some ways. Surely it did not matter that much?

Colin looked at Rae and then lowered his eyes. He knew that they should be chaperoned really – not that he would ever have considered such a thing was necessary with Penelope before, but for some reason things seemed different now – but he didn’t want a maid hovering awkwardly to the side, watching them. He wanted the two of them to be able to speak freely to one another, after what had happened.

Penelope glanced at Rae; she nodded and withdrew, leaving the two of them outside. Penelope stayed on the garden step, wanting to remain at Colin’s eye level for once, and she gazed questioningly at Colin.

‘I bribed her to give us a moment alone,’ he said softly, and a hint of a small smile briefly appeared on Penelope’s lips. ‘I had to see how you were.’

Penelope nodded in understanding. ‘You read Whistledown.’

It was sad that Colin was the only person in her life who truly seemed to care about how she was in the immediate aftermath of all this. Sad, but also touching.

‘She is beastly to write such things about you,’ Colin said.

‘It is her job to report what everyone is talking about,’ she said, sounding somewhat strained. ‘It would have been suspicious if she had not.’

Colin frowned, a little confused; that had been a rather strange thing to say. Before he could question what she meant, however, Penelope carried on speaking.

‘In truth, I have brought this on myself,’ she said, sounding utterly despondent. ‘A sad, stupid girl who believed she might possibly have a chance of love.’

‘You must not say such things,’ Colin said imploringly; he could not bear it for her to think so badly of herself.

Penelope then met his earnest gaze. How could she not think such things? She had been made to feel like she was worthless all her life, and today she had finally realised that it was true, no matter what Colin said; he did not mean it, after all, he was only being kind because he was her friend.

Her breathing turned heavy as she continued to stare into his eyes, feeling rather desperate. She could see her future laid out so vividly before her, a lonely spinster doomed to return to the shadows and live out the rest of her life in misery under the thumb of her tormenting mothers and sisters. She had lost her chance. She had no hope left.

And, at this point, she had nothing left to lose.

Colin’s brow furrowed; Penelope was gazing at him in a way she never had before. He wasn’t sure that they had ever gone this long, simply looking into one another’s eyes, without breaking the silence. She looked both terrified and as if she were preparing herself for something.

Penelope’s hand then dropped from the wall of the archway and she looked down, nervous. She had taken the silent route all her life, swallowing her truth, quietly watching the world pass her by while she’d secretly pined after Colin without ever finding her voice, without ever going after what she wanted.

She did not want to be silent any longer.

‘Colin,’ she began tentatively, ‘…could I ask you something?’

‘Of course,’ Colin said gently.

He would do anything he could, anything she wanted, if it would help her through this. Anything.

Penelope hesitated; she had never thrown caution to the wind like this before. But her reputation and her chances were already ruined. She might as well risk it all now.

‘Would...?’ But then her voice seemed unable to continue, for she knew it was the most terrifying question she would ever ask.

She closed her eyes and took a few shaky breaths before trying again, bare-faced and with nothing to protect her heart. She had no idea that the words she would speak next would change the trajectory of both their lives forever.

‘Would you kiss me?’

Penelope forced herself to meet his gaze.

Colin stared at her with an open mouth, startled. He was quite sure he had misheard her – he must have done. But then he looked into her eyes, and realised she was quite serious. His heart lurched unsteadily, and his eyes began to dart back and forth as he tried to think of how to respond. He was utterly dumbstruck.

‘Penelope-’ he began, his eyes fixed on the ground, but his faint protest faltered immediately, for his throat had begun to close up; he was stunned beyond belief.

‘It-it would not have to mean anything,’ Penelope interrupted him, almost desperately; she had expected him to say no as soon as the reckless words had left her mouth, and now she had no choice but to explain.

Colin looked back up at her, still blindsided; how could it not mean anything?

But Penelope pressed on before he could say anything further, as if in a rush to let everything out that had been playing on her mind ever since she had written today’s edition of Lady Whistledown. ‘And I would never expect anything from you because of it, but I am nearly on the shelf, and I have never been kissed, and I am not certain I ever will be.’

She had never wanted anything or asked anything of him before. But her heart had been aching today with such ferocity, for the thought of never experiencing one modicum of a romantic experience was far too difficult to bear. It absolutely crushed her.

Colin continued to gaze at her, overwhelmed as he tried to take in what she was saying. He knew he could trust Penelope’s insistence that it would not change their friendship and that he would not be taking any liberties. And he knew, with absolute certainty, that Penelope would never use this as some kind of trap to marry him – which, given his history, was important.

But that was not the issue here.

‘I could die tomorrow,’ Penelope went on, sounding close to tears.

Colin closed his eyes, feeling almost exasperated; was now really the time to be so melodramatic? ‘You are not going to die tomorrow,’ he said, finally finding his voice again.

‘But I could, and it would kill me-’

‘But you would already be dead,’ Colin said, bemused and still a little lost by the direction this conversation had taken.

‘I do not wish to die without ever having been kissed,’ Penelope said, loudly and firmly, and she fixed him with that earth-shattering gaze of hers, a gaze that made Colin’s heart almost stop beating.

Penelope exhaled unevenly. There was no turning back from this now. The words had poured out from her, and now all she could do was wait for Colin to respond. She could not tell what on earth he was thinking. He was simply regarding her with pity, clearly speechless and wracking his brains on how to salvage this rather tricky situation she had put them in by merely mentioning the idea of a kiss.

It was a great testament to just how much Penelope trusted Colin that she had been able to even dare ask such of a thing of him. She knew that she was safe with him, she knew he would not judge her or look down on her, she knew he would never tell anyone. She knew that she could take a leap of faith with this man, because he was her friend, and if she could not feel comfortable enough to open her heart, speak her truth and show such vulnerability before her dearest friend, then what was the point? She was tired of keeping so much to her chest, always melding into the shadows, putting on a front, never confiding in anyone. She was tired of hiding who she was and what she wanted.

She only wished to know how it felt, just once. She had read more than enough books and heard plenty of talk about married life to crave that touch, that affection, that intimacy. But now that she had ruined her life, this was her only chance to experience it – even if it were false. It would not bother Colin much, surely – after all, she knew from his journal that he’d had romantic experiences with other women, so what was one more kiss to him? And then, after this final act, she could quietly wave goodbye to her dreams of ever getting married and having a happy future away from her mother’s house. It wasn’t too much to ask, was it?

Colin tilted his head at Penelope with a frown as he watched her gazing at him pleadingly. How could he not be tempted to oblige her request, when she was stood before him in that stunning dress, with her hair beautiful and flowing, her face ethereal, her gaze filled with yearning?

He had to say or do something now, before the moment passed. But he still didn’t know how to respond. Obviously, he needed to say no, as her friend and as a gentleman. There should be no debate on the matter, really. She was his oldest, closest friend. She was innocent and unmarried. If anyone were to know of them even having this conversation, let alone acting upon it, it would embroil both of them in scandal and ruin her life and dash any future hopes she had of securing a match. Besides, he did not want to take advantage of her when she was in such a delicate place. It would not be proper. It would not be honourable.

He couldn’t say yes to her, he couldn’t even entertain such an idea. Couldn’t he?

‘Please,’ Penelope then said, her voice coming out in barely more than a whisper.

She wanted him to kiss her on this very night, beneath the shining moon, surrounded by the beautiful flowers of this garden. She wanted it more than anything, for what else did she have left to want and hope for? This was all she had now. This moment, this man, this longing, this rare surge of courage, right here. 

Nevertheless, Penelope couldn’t help wondering if this was the lowest moment of her life, practically begging a man – a man who she knew absolutely did not reciprocate her affections – for one little kiss, and in doing so risking their friendship forever.

Colin did not see it as begging, though. He saw it as brave. Penelope had never been so vulnerable in front of someone before, and he knew in his heart that he was the only person she could be this way with. Those words could never be unspoken, and by merely suggesting such a thing she had changed the very nature of their friendship forever. And yet still she had risked it. It was remarkable, really.

‘Colin,’ Penelope whispered.

That was all it took. Just one word, his name, in her voice…and he was utterly lost.

Colin’s gaze grew solemn as he looked down slightly, thinking hard. He then looked back up, his eyes locking with hers, her shaky breaths the only sound that filled the air between them as her bottom lip began to tremble.

He remembered when Marina Thompson had cornered him in a room and practically puckered her lips merely inches from his when he had then abruptly backed away, despite how much he had wanted to feel her embrace, for he was a gentleman and could never compromise a young lady. He knew he ought to choose the same course of action now.

He ought to.

But he did not want to.

It would not be proper, but Penelope was hurt, and he needed to alleviate that pain. He always helped his friends, after all. He always prioritised making his loved ones feel better. And Penelope needed this, consequences be damned.

Colin couldn’t take his eyes off her as his mind whirled. Her chin was quivering, her bosom swelling with every breath as she continued to gaze at him, waiting earnestly for his response. She looked breathtaking.

It was night. No one was about. The gardens were enchanting. The moon was bathing Penelope in a stunning glow. The setting was perfect, and it was just the two of them.

This is a bad idea.

But it was no use thinking that now. The look in her eyes and the way she had spoken his name had already made his mind up for him.

It was just a kiss. Despite all the rules he had been raised to follow, it was not such a big deal really, not after all he had now experienced. It was just a favour for a friend who was sad and needed some comfort. There was nothing more to it than that.

Colin inclined his head slightly and his lips parted, as if he intended to say something to Penelope, but he found there were no words for this moment. So, he simply began to walk towards her, very slowly, his eyes gazing deeply into hers as he closed the distance between them.

Penelope’s eyes widened slightly in shock and her loud breathing began to quicken; she hadn’t actually been expecting that he would oblige her request, but from the way Colin was approaching and the tender look in his eyes, it certainly seemed as if he was. She took a slight step back, as if afraid of getting what she wanted, of making her wish come true. Her chest swelled as he got closer and closer, the man her heart had always longed for…her loyal, kind safety net as she stepped into the unknown.

It was only when he had come to a halt right before Penelope and his eyes fell to her lips that Colin realised a terrifying truth: he wanted this. This was no favour or act of pity. He wanted to kiss her.

But he had no time to be alarmed or stop to consider what that might mean, for Penelope was practically breathless with anticipation, and his hand had already tenderly reached up to cup her face.

His fingers slowly brushed past the smooth, rounded sweep of her cheek to the curve of her neck; the moment his hand made contact with her skin, Penelope closed her eyes and shivered slightly, dazed. Her nervous, shallow breathing began to slow down, as if her whole world had calmed at his touch. She had never been touched like this by a man – and, she suspected, she never would again after tonight. She had to savour this moment, and imprint it in her mind forever to return to when her days were dark and lonely. His fingers curled under her chin with such precious, tender vulnerability that Penelope’s heart almost stopped.

Colin felt like he could hear and feel her pounding heartbeat as she stood there, perfectly still. He then slowly began to tilt her face up towards his by her chin. Penelope’s gasps for breath faded away as his face neared hers, and she closed her eyes.

Their lips met.

It was a light, chaste kiss, lasting a mere moment. And yet somehow it was perfect. Utterly perfect.

They both pulled away ever so slightly and their eyes met, an intake of breath slowly escaping Colin’s mouth as he gazed at Penelope in awe.

That was it, Colin told himself. That was all it needed to be. One kiss. Done.

He had done what she had asked, and he could tell that Penelope expected him to leave it there, that she was already grateful for that one simple peck. But nothing about it had been simple. On the contrary, it had felt like, in that moment when their lips had touched, everything had finally clicked into place for him.

He did not want that to be it. He wanted more. And he suspected, from the look in Penelope’s eyes, that she wanted more too. They were both hovering, almost hopefully, waiting to see what either of them were willing to do next.

So, Colin tilted her chin up once again and guided her lips back to his.

This time, Penelope was less tentative; she relaxed and kissed him back tenderly as they let go and sank into the moment, liking how it felt. They kissed again, and again, their mouths opening softly to each other as Colin gently tugged her in closer. It was sweet and passionate at the same time…and also entirely unnecessary.

Her lips moved against his slowly, filled with longing, as Penelope deepened the kiss; it was her first and last kiss, after all – she had to make the most of it. In response, Colin curled his fingers around to cradle her cheek, giving up any control he’d thought he’d had when he had initially leant in towards her as they melted into one.

Colin’s lower lip quivered as he kissed her back earnestly, his breathing growing more intense, and he exhaled sharply as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He didn’t understand what was happening. He was losing himself in the feel of Penelope’s lips on his, and it was too intense, too overwhelming.

Why did he like this so much? Why did it feel this way? Why did he want to keep kissing his best friend and never stop?

It was the most wonderful, meaningful kiss he had ever had. And Colin knew, as his thumb caressed her cheek and guided her mouth up towards his so their kiss could continue, that he would never be the same again.

All too soon, Penelope then pulled away, and though their lips reluctantly separated, they kept their faces close and their eyes half-lidded, lingering in the embrace, savouring every last second; neither one of them wanted to end the moment just yet. Their noses brushed against one another’s and Colin bowed his head, his forehead resting on hers while his hand remained on her cheek. Penelope’s skin tingled at his touch; she had never had anyone treat her with such gentle affection in her entire life.

Was she dreaming? Penelope wasn’t sure, but if she was, she wished she could make it last forever. She could barely comprehend just how tender and magical that had been. She couldn’t believe that it had just happened to her, that one precious kiss that so many people could wait a lifetime searching for and yet still not get to experience something so earth-shatteringly beautiful. She had been dreaming of this moment for years, and it had been so much more than she ever could have hoped for. It felt like they had been coming home to each other. And she knew that she would have that memory to sustain her forever.

Colin slowly opened his eyes and gazed down at Penelope in complete awe. He had never kissed someone he cared about before, someone whose reaction mattered so greatly to him. He had never kissed someone who had made him feel a moment of true connection, something that he had been yearning for this whole time. He hadn’t expected that, of all people, it would be his most beloved friend from childhood to make him feel such a way. It was utterly confounding.

That had been more than just him doing Penelope a favour. So much more.

It had meant something.

He kept his eyes on Penelope’s as he waited for her to look up and meet his gaze, silently asking her if she was all right, if all was well, if she had felt what he did. He so desperately wanted her to look back at him, for his world had been entirely upended.

But Penelope could not meet his eyes.

Her eyelashes fluttered against her cheek as she somehow managed to resist the tender yet smouldering intensity of his penetrating gaze. The haze of desire that had washed over her seemed to have lifted, and she just could not bring herself to look back at him, for she was afraid of what she might see – regret, possibly, or embarrassment. Yes, Colin had kissed her with intensity and feeling, but the passion she had felt in his response was just an illusion. It was not real for him, he had only done it because she had asked him to. There was nothing more to it than that.

A tear stain glistened on Penelope’s face as she tried to think of what to do or say while they continued to stand there in stunned silence, inches from one another, Colin’s hand still cupping her cheek. She wasn’t sure whether to feel more embarrassed or exhilarated. The young, giddy, besotted girl inside her felt like dancing and singing, but the humiliated spinster felt nothing but despair. Yes, she had kissed the man she had always loved, something she had never thought would actually happen. But in doing so she had forever tainted their friendship, and given herself a taste of something she would never know again.

Colin felt his eyes begin to close again as he ever so slowly began to hover closer towards her, for he wanted nothing more than to kiss her for a third time. But then he could feel Penelope begin to pull away, moving her face from his hand, her eyes still refusing to lift to meet his.

She pressed her lips together and her chin wobbled as she tried not to cry. ‘Thank you,’ she said softly, sounding rather tearful.

Dazed, upset, and mortified all at the same time, Penelope then turned and darted away back into the house without another word.

Colin gazed after her with parted lips and solemn eyes, his hand still held aloft where her cheek had been moments before. His brain, which seemed to have lost all ability to function in the past minute, suddenly reawakened.

He felt like he had been struck by lightening. What had just happened? Why had they both gone back in for a second, deeper kiss? Why was his heart thudding and jumping up and down in a way he had never known before? Why was his body tingling all over? And why was he desperately fighting the urge to run after Penelope into the house to kiss her again?

He did not understand. He could not make sense of anything racing through his mind, and he could barely move because of it; he simply stayed stood there in the garden, his hand hanging limply down as he stared, bewildered, at the spot where Penelope had disappeared.

It was as if he had run headlong into a brick wall.

Oh. So that’s what it is supposed to feel like.

Colin could see now that had been living in a blur these past few years. He had never known, he had never seen…until now. It felt as if a fog had suddenly been lifted before his eyes, and he was left blinking rapidly in the moonlight, dazed by how immediately different and clear the world was to him now.

That kiss had been everything he had ever wanted, all he had been searching for this entire time without even realising. It had been the most real thing he had felt in all his life. Nothing and no-one from his time abroad could compare to it. How could he have never seen her coming, his own best friend?

He gulped slightly. It was strange to realise in that moment that he would never see himself, nor Penelope, in the same way ever again after this.

Colin wasn’t sure how long he remained stood there. It could have been five minutes, it could have been thirty. But, eventually, he found the ability to turn and walk away, and he left the Featherington’s garden in somewhat of a daze.

What just happened? He kept asking himself the same question, over and over. He still couldn’t quite fathom it.

He was barely aware of walking home. He wasn’t sure if Grosvenor Square was completely empty or crowded with carriages returning from tonight’s soiree. He wasn’t sure if he was seen by anyone leaving Featherington House in a blind sort of daze, nor did he care. He couldn’t really spare a thought for anything other than what had just occurred.

Had there been something there between them this whole time, and he had just been too blind to see it? When had this all started? How could this be?

‘Brother! Where have you been?’

Colin jumped and blinked rapidly. He had somehow already entered the foyer back at Bridgerton House without even realising, and Benedict was bounding over to him, but he didn’t really feel in the mood for conversation. He had been shaken to his core.

‘Mondrich’s,’ Colin said, removing his coat and averting Benedict’s playful gaze.

‘Is that all, or did you pay a visit to your new familiar haunt?’ Benedict said teasingly, and Colin knew at once he was referring to the brothel; Colin rolled his eyes, suddenly feeling nauseous at the mere thought of a brothel. ‘You have a look on your face only a lady could put there. You’re not in love, are you?’

At this, Colin instantly began to splutter. ‘N-no, of course not,’ he said at once, his voice defensive, his cheeks reddening, ‘why would you think that, who would I even…?’

Benedict’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. ‘Never mind, my mistake,’ he said, holding his hands up. ‘Are you…quite well, Brother?’

‘I am…merely tired,’ Colin replied, and he sighed heavily. ‘Too much whiskey, obviously.’

‘Obviously.’

His heart was still pounding heavily against his chest; it had been ever since Penelope had spoken those fateful words in the garden. He wondered if it would ever stop.

Colin swallowed loudly and pressed a hand on Benedict’s shoulder. ‘Goodnight, Benedict,’ he said, and with that he turned and headed up the grand staircase.

He ran a hand agitatedly through his hair as he strode along the hallway, his breathing coming out heavier with every step he took. It was a relief to finally shut himself away in his bedchamber.

Gulping, Colin then glanced in the direction of Featherington House through his window. He wondered what Penelope was doing now, what she was thinking. Was she too in a state of utter shock and giddiness? Was she confused? Or was he all alone in this?

He still couldn’t comprehend it. Everything he thought he had known was wrong. Every small moment that had ever passed between him and Penelope had been tucked away all this time, only for it all now to come rushing to the surface. He had been searching the world all over for something, and now it turned out that the thing he had looking for had been merely across the square this whole time.

It felt as if tonight had been the start of something wonderful and new, something monumental, a new phase of his life in which the rest of the world went away and the only thing he would see from now on was Penelope Featherington.

Colin collapsed onto his bed, spread-eagled, and clasped his hands to his face, his thumb brushing his lips that Penelope had so tenderly caressed with her own, as he stared up at the ceiling.

‘Oh, my god,’ he whispered, and, in spite of himself, a tiny hint of a bewildered smile appeared on his lips.

Chapter Text

It was night. The Featherington’s garden was silent and peaceful, with no sound other than the thudding of Colin’s heart as he emerged from the misty darkness and walked across the beautiful, flourishing lawn with purpose. Flames burned in braziers across the stone wall that lined the garden, casting a warm glow on the flowering vines framing the arched doorway in the wall. Situated in the centre of the archway was Penelope, stood wearing a pale, elaborate nightgown that fluttered in the breeze, her hair cascading down in gentle curls, as she gazed at his approaching figure.

Penelope exhaled in relief. ‘Colin,’ she said.

‘Thank you for meeting me,’ Colin said, reaching her by the step of the archway, and he glanced behind her to make sure the two of them were alone. ‘I apologise for the late hour, but I had to see you, immediately.’

Penelope frowned in concern, clearly thinking that something must be wrong. ‘What is it?’ she asked, taking a step towards him.

They were merely inches apart now.

Colin hesitated for a moment as he gazed, open-mouthed at her. ‘Pen, I, uh...I have not been able to sleep, not been able to...eat. I...I can...I can barely speak these days. My entire thoughts consumed by...’

He trailed off, in a daze, as his eyes fell to her lips, pink and plump and so very beautiful as the firelight from the braziers flickered nearby.

‘By what?’ Penelope prompted, as if afraid to hear the answer.

And then Colin met her gaze again. ‘By our kiss,’ he replied, and Penelope exhaled in shock, her eyes widening. ‘By you.’

He shook his head helplessly at her. It was a feeling beyond his control now, a feeling he could no longer keep quiet.

And then came the words he had been so desperate to hear, for days now:

‘I…I feel the same,’ Penelope said in quiet disbelief as she gazed at him in wonder, and he took a step closer to her. ‘You occupy my every thought.’

His lips parted, Colin closed the distance between them at once, his eyes searching every inch of her face.

Neither of them was sure who made the first move; before they knew it, they were sharing a fiery kiss, Colin’s hands wrapped tightly around her waist, Penelope’s arms gripping his shoulder passionately as she pulled him closer to her.

She moaned against his lips as Colin pushed her back against the doorway, holding on so as not to lose his balance and taking care to place his hand behind her head so that he would not hurt her. He enfolded her tightly in his arms, determined to never let go.

Penelope kissed him back passionately, and then he bent down, bringing his lips to her neck. Her mouth dropped open and she exhaled as he kissed her jawline and neck.

‘Colin,’ she whispered, panting as Colin’s lips moved fervently against her skin. ‘Colin…-’

His eyes flashing open in shock, Colin then sat bolt upright, panting and gasping for breath.

He looked around, startled and glistening with sweat; he was in bed, and bright morning light was streaming into his bedchamber through the sheer drapes. Breathing heavily, Colin instinctively turned towards the window in the direction of Featherington House, as if trying to seek comfort from his friend across the square.

He turned away after a few moments, dazed, and waited agitatedly for his heartrate to return to normal.

That was not the first night Colin had dreamed of Penelope Featherington. Indeed, it had not been the second or the third. In truth, he had lost count of how many dreams he’d had about the two of them over the past few nights. Only a week had passed since that night in Penelope’s garden under the light of the moon, and yet somehow it felt so much longer. It felt like his whole world had spun off its axis. He felt like a changed man – in reality, this time, not the ‘changed man’ he had pretended to be upon first returning to Mayfair after his travels.

That kiss had fundamentally changed him. He kept dreaming of Penelope the whole night through and every morning he kept waking up from such bizarre, scandalous fantasies only to be hit by the realisation, over and over again, that what he had been looking for had always been right there in front of him.

In truth, his dreams did not even stop there. Merely a few nights ago, he had gone back to Featherington House, without having a single thought in his befuddled brain. He had even gone as far as picking up pebbles to throw up at Penelope’s window, in the hope of enticing her down to the garden so that they could have a chance at repeating what had happened that night. But then his courage – or madness, he wasn’t quite sure which – had left him, and he’d quickly hurried back through the garden gate before any of the servants noticed he had arrived.

Colin was not much better during the light of day; he was barely present, his mind far too preoccupied to pay any attention to social assemblies and promenades and family meals. He just couldn’t get Penelope out of his head, not for one single moment. A part of him wished he could be set free from this overwhelming torment, and yet another yearned for it to consume him even more, for he craved nothing more than to be in her arms – a feeling that confused him to the point of madness, for it had come so completely out of nowhere.

Or had it?

Had he actually been feeling this way towards Penelope for quite some time, without it properly registering with him, and it had taken just one kiss to make him realise it?

Well, there was no point in debating the matter now. The flame had been lit, and Colin could not seem to find a way to put it out. He was not sure he even wanted to.

It was a significant while later when Colin forced himself to emerge from the solace of his bedchamber, and he strode into the drawing room, where his family were breaking their fast.

‘’Morning, family,’ Colin said, walking over to join Benedict and Gregory by the table of food – not that he had much appetite.

‘You slept late,’ Benedict noted, without looking up from the paper he was reading.

Colin faltered as he glanced around, feeling immensely awkward. ‘Did I?’ he said airily.

‘Hmm. Something keep you up?’ Benedict asked.

Colin’s heart skipped a beat. ‘Not at all. I slept peacefully,’ he said, as he poured himself some tea from the pot. ‘No sooner did my head touch the pillow that I was met with complete and immediate darkness. Not even a dream.’

Benedict lowered his paper and exchanged a bewildered glance with Gregory.

He frowned up at Colin, who was nervously sipping his tea. ‘Con…gratulations?’ he said, bemused.

Colin nodded, realising too late that perhaps what he had said might have come across as a little…odd. ‘Hmm.’

‘Brother, I know we are not supposed to mention it,’ Hyacinth said from the settees at the other side of the room, ‘but I thought it was quite a kindness that you did for Penelope the other week.’

Colin’s eyes widened in panic. How could Hyacinth possibly know about the kiss? Had a servant witnessed their clandestine moment, and Hyacinth overheard them talking?

‘She waits for the maids to throw out last week’s copy of Whistledown,’ Benedict said, and Hyacinth rushed over to shut him up, ‘as she knows she is not allowed to read it.’

Colin felt the relief flood through him. Of course, Hyacinth was merely referring to what she had read in Lady Whistledown, and believed his and Penelope’s actions to have been nice rather than something to be ashamed of. She really was very sweet.

‘It was unfortunate Whistledown wrote what she did,’ Colin said, avoiding everyone’s eye contact as he put down his teacup, ‘or that she…found out about it in the first place.’

Eloise, who had been seated beside Francesca and their mother on an armchair, then slammed her book shut. ‘Uh, excuse me,’ she said, and she took her leave.

Colin opened his mouth to say something as she went past – they hadn’t yet managed to talk things out and clear the air between them after he had shouted at her towards the end of last week’s ball – but she had already walked out of the room.

‘Well, I think Penelope is quite fortunate to have you as a friend,’ Hyacinth said, smiling, and Benedict looked up at her, an endearing expression on his face.

Colin twitched slightly where he stood. ‘Yes. She is, um...’

He trailed off uncomfortably. He had been so proud to call Penelope his friend again a few weeks ago, and yet now the mere thought of the word made his skin crawl. He could not describe Penelope as a ‘friend’, not after that kiss, not after all those dreams. What he felt for her was far more than just friendship, he could finally see that now.

‘Well, a very…good…acquaintance of...the family’s, of course,’ Colin went on, his hand gesturing oddly and a strange smile forming on his face as he looked away, feeling rather flustered.

Benedict and Hyacinth were staring at him, perplexed. They had never seen their brother act in such a bizarre way.

‘Are you all right?’ Benedict asked, and Hyacinth giggled.

Colin nodded, wishing he could just sink through the floor.  ‘Never better,’ he said, before grabbing his teacup and forcing an odd little smile.

He wasn’t sure if he had successfully convinced them all into believing he was all right; they were looking at him as if he had been struck down by some strange ailment of the mind. Nevertheless, he had to try and act as if everything were completely normal, that he was absolutely fine. After all, if he kept pretending all was well, then maybe it would come true.

It was not long after when Daphne and Simon then entered the drawing room, wearing their travelling cloaks; they had travelled from their estate in Clyvedon at the beginning of the week to visit the family for a few days. Daphne had claimed that it had been just a casual visit, but Colin knew she was concerned that her brother’s name had been mentioned in the latest few Whistledown editions, and wanted to offer her support; she always did.

‘Our carriage is ready,’ Daphne said, a sad smile on her face. ‘I must leave you all, I am afraid.’

Colin reached out to hug her. ‘Thank you for coming to check on me. Again,’ he said, giving her a warm smile as they broke apart. ‘Let us hope Whistledown refrains from mentioning my name again in her future editions, or you will be suffering from a great many carriage rides.’

‘Well, not anytime soon, I should hope,’ Daphne said with raised eyebrows, as Simon wrapped his arm around her waist and belly. ‘This shall have to be my last long journey before my confinement begins.’

Colin’s smile grew as he looked down at her swelling stomach. ‘Ah, of course,’ he said. ‘I look forward to visiting you all when the baby arrives.’

‘As do I,’ Daphne said, and she gazed adoringly at her siblings gathered around her. ‘Gosh, I do miss you all terribly, you know.’

‘She really does,’ Simon interjected, smiling at his wife. ‘You must come to Clyvedon as soon as the season is over.’

‘Of course,’ Benedict said, clapping Simon on the shoulder. ‘Where is Augie?’

‘With the nanny just outside – Mama, I believe you wanted one last cuddle with him before we depart?’ Daphne said, smiling, and Violet rushed over with a giddy smile on her face.

They were soon all gathered out in the gravel driveway at the front of the house, each of them cooing over Augie, who was now walking and babbling away, before Simon picked him up and carried him into the carriage. Daphne cupped Colin’s cheek briefly and gave him a reassuring smile before following her husband and baby inside.

The Bridgertons stood there in a line to wave at the Bassets’ carriage as they departed. Colin stroked his mother’s arm; she always found these moments rather emotional, watching her children ride off to their other lives.

Once their carriage had disappeared from view, everyone turned to head back into the house. Colin hung back, though, and found himself gazing longingly at the house opposite. What would happen if he strode up to the Featherington’s door right now, and asked to call on Penelope? What would Penelope say? What would he say?

‘Colin?’

Colin blinked and turned around; Francesca had lingered outside as well, and was tilting her head at him with concern.

‘Are you all right?’ she asked. ‘Truly?’

Colin hesitated for a moment, then smiled. ‘I am fine. I am not the one now under the Queen’s watchful gaze,’ he said, and he briefly grasped Francesca’s hand to give it a comforting squeeze. ‘How are you fairing?’

Francesca’s face had faltered slightly. ‘Oh…well, you know,’ she said, forcing a smile and an awkward nod.

Colin sighed in understanding. ‘The scrutiny of the ton is not particularly welcoming for people like us, is it?’

He and Francesca had always been alike in that way; both introverts at heart – or, at least, certainly not ‘one of the crowd’ – though Colin has been trying so very hard to appear the opposite this season.

‘It certainly is not,’ Francesca said, and they smiled at each other.

‘I may…take a walk in the park, you know,’ Colin said, glancing around the square. ‘I could do with some fresh air. Would you care to join me?’

Francesca grimaced. ‘I would, but I am afraid I have been neglecting the pianoforte.’

‘Do not told me you have not played it for a whole two hours?!’ Colin said in mock horror.

‘I’m afraid so,’ Francesca said, and they both laughed. ‘Have a pleasant time on your walk.’

‘Thank you. I shall see you later.’

Colin was grateful to get out on his own just for a bit, as he had been trying to do every day recently – another brisk walk would do him some good. He hoped that a walk would also help take his mind off things; alas, there was nothing on this earth that could distract him from the thoughts that had been plaguing him for the past week.

The whole situation was utterly bizarre, and he could make neither heard nor tail of the rapid movements of his mind. It felt as if he were lost in a storm out at sea, with each wave that crashed down overwhelming him with some new, strange feeling. One kiss with his childhood best friend was all it had taken to turn his word upside down. He now felt consumed with obsession, longing and confusion, and all he could do was replay that kiss repeatedly in his mind, remembering the softness and taste of her lips on his…

Control yourself.

This was getting ridiculous. He needed to maintain a steady composure, and keep his thoughts orderly – and, most crucially, away from Penelope Featherington.

At least he could hope that a leisurely stroll through the park would help with that.

***

Penelope had decided, much to everyone’s surprise in the Featherington household, to brave Hyde Park today. Seeing Eloise this morning had given her the strength she had needed to force herself out of the house for the first time since the Lady Whistledown issue about her had been published. It had not been a long or particularly warm encounter with her former friend, but it had been a tentative step in the right direction. It had given Penelope hope, which she’d thought she had lost altogether. And that was enough for her.

The park was pleasant but quite busy today, with many nobles, adorned in their finest fashions and carrying parasols, strolling along Rotten Row, promenading by the water and lounging among the lush greenery.

Penelope walked through the park meadow alone, with Rae a few steps behind casting sour looks at all the gossiping women who kept blatantly staring and sneering at Penelope as she passed. A part of her wished that she hadn’t been left to deal alone with the scandal; it would have been nice, although extremely unusual, if her mother or siblings had offered to accompany her and face the ton’s scrutiny together. But that was fanciful thinking. Their family would never become one united front like that. It just wasn’t their way.

Penelope could feel her steps growing slower and more timid as she tried to ignore everyone’s scornful looks and whispers, but she kept her head held as high as possible. All she needed to do was keep moving one foot in front of the other. That was all she had to accomplish today.

Of course, she hadn’t expected to run into Colin more or less five minutes after setting foot into the park’s grounds. If she had known that, perhaps she would have remained sequestered in her bedchamber for another few weeks.

He was strolling along the park by himself, merely a few metres away from her and Rae, looking quite at peace although rather strained…and then, from a distance, the two of them locked eyes.

Colin saw her, and his heart stopped. It quite literally stopped – only for the merest fraction of a second, but even so.

He had been out promenading a few times now over the past few days, in the hopes of running into Penelope, and getting more desperate and hopeless each time she hadn’t appeared. He hadn’t wanted to call on her at the house, partly because he had needed a little time to process everything, but also because they might have ended up being chaperoned by her family, which was the last thing either of them would have wanted. He supposed he could have set up another arrangement with Rae to meet Penelope in private – after all, he was always more comfortable talking to her in secluded places – but even that thought had scared him, for the last time that had happened, Penelope had quite literally run away from him. He did not want that to happen again.

Penelope immediately came to a halt as she spotted Colin, her face falling.

What do we do now?

Colin seemed just as rattled. Nervous, even. His eyes were darting about and his mouth had fallen open. He hadn’t realised until this very moment just how much that kiss had truly shaken him to his very core.

Penelope then turned and immediately headed towards the hanging branches of a majestic weeping willow tree that stood nearby, its verdant branches cascading like a silken curtain down to the shimmering water’s edge. She knew he would follow her, just as she knew that they could not avoid each other now that they had clapped eyes on one another; if they were going to address the elephant in the room, they might as well get it over with.

Pressing his lips together agitatedly, Colin followed, his jaw jutting out; it was the first time they had seen one another since the kiss, and he was, quite frankly, terrified.

The willow tree provided a natural canopy that swayed gently in the light breeze; Colin found Penelope stood shaded beneath it, her back turned to him, while sunlight filtered through the delicate foliage.

Penelope turned around as he walked up to her, her hand on her stomach, and a little sigh escaped her mouth as she looked at him. He was wearing smart clothes of a dark blue today, rather than the new brown look everyone had become accustomed to. She wondered if it was a sign of the real Colin trying to peek through. She was somewhat disappointed to see that he had slicked his hair back today; she much preferred it when his unruly curls were scruffy and loose. Not that it should matter to her, or be any of her business, what he decided to do with his hair, of course.

Penelope had never felt more embarrassed as they met each other’s nervous gaze. Even after a whole week of coming to terms with what had happened, she still couldn’t believe she had asked what she had of him. What must he think of her? At least she had now experienced a kiss from a man for whom she had harboured such deep romantic feelings for so long…but at what cost? He hadn’t asked for it, he hadn’t wanted it. As if she hadn’t done enough to humiliate herself.

‘Good day,’ Colin said tentatively.

He felt wary, but a part of him buried deep down was also slightly excited. Could he be right to hope that Penelope would act and speak the way she had done in his dreams?

‘Good day,’ Penelope replied in a quiet voice, feeling rather nauseous as she tried to think of what to possibly say. ‘It is good to see you.’

Colin felt rather guilty by her comment. Did she think that he had been purposefully avoiding her all this time out of embarrassment? Nothing could be further from the truth, but he did not know how to explain his mindset from this past week to her. He did not even dare.

‘Yes, it is...it is good to see you as well,’ Colin said, gesturing towards her with his hand.

They looked at each other for a moment, their eyes wide with confusion and terror. Penelope had always had a slight air of nervousness around Colin, that was simply the way things had always been between them, but to see him lose his charming act and become flustered around her was the most bizarre thing she had ever experienced.

‘And I apologise for not…coming to see you...earlier,’ Colin went on awkwardly, and Penelope flinched and closed her eyes at once, mortified.

‘Oh,’ she said, shaking her head quickly. ‘It is for the better that you did not.’

Colin tilted his head at her. ‘Is it?’ he asked.

He was confused; what did she mean by that? He would much rather she have said, ‘I wish you had.’

‘Isn’t it?’ Penelope said, chuckling nervously as she looked at him.

She was rather bemused by his response. After what had happened between them, surely he knew that the only course of action was to avoid one another?

Colin pulled a strange face as he hesitated, trying to act nonchalant. ‘It is,’ he said, smiling.

Penelope chuckled again, nodding, although her expression quickly turned into a grimace as she averted her gaze. She had never felt so awkward in her entire life, and she couldn’t remember the last time she had seen Colin look so young and boyish as he tried to search for his words. She had known that the time would come when she and Colin would be forced to see and speak to one another after she had asked him to kiss her, and she had had plenty of time to prepare what she would say in this eventuality, but now that the moment had arrived, she felt struck dumb – and, it appeared, so was he. Neither of them knew how to act at all. They had turned into a fumbling mess.

Colin’s fingers began to twitch agitatedly as he looked at Penelope, at a complete loss. The fact that the veneer he had so meticulously built up around himself had been hacked away by one kiss was rather humbling, it had to be said. He had been reduced to nothing but a bumbling, bashful schoolboy. He wished he could read Penelope’s expression. It felt like they had been playing a meaningless game with each other these past few weeks, only now it had come to mean absolutely everything, and Colin wanted – no, needed – answers.

He had to know everything. Did she feel the same things he did? Had that kiss enlightened something in her as well? Or would she laugh at him if he were to even bring it up?

They cared for one another, that was no secret between them. But everything had shifted, and she was now making him truly feel in a way he hadn’t before. Colin did not wish to conceal it any longer; these past few days of doing so, hiding from himself and from the world as he tried to make sense of his tangled web of thoughts, had been painful and tedious, and he was ready now to address it with her.

Or, at least, he thought he was.

He opened his mouth, wanting desperately to say something – what exactly, he could not say – but then Penelope inhaled and began to speak.

‘Uh...we cannot continue our lessons,’ she said, an awkward smile on her face.

Penelope knew it went without saying, particularly after that night in the garden, but thought it best to still make it clear so that there was no misunderstanding between them. They needed to put this embarrassing ‘lessons in charm and courtship’ business behind them once and for all, and try to forget it. She was done with making a fool of herself. It was time to let go and move on.

Colin’s face faltered. ‘Oh,’ he said, surprised, and then he began to smile in understanding. ‘Uh, I agree. Yes.’

He felt hesitantly hopeful. Perhaps she felt that the lessons were not necessary anymore and she was no longer interested in finding a husband, after their kiss. Perhaps that moment had been the catalyst for her, just as it had been for him, and made her realise that he was the one she wanted to court instead.

Penelope nodded, relieved they were on the same page. ‘Good,’ she said, her cheeks aching from the amount of false smiling she was forcing herself to do.

‘Hm,’ Colin said, trying to chuckle back as he watched her fiddle nervously with her hands and shawl.

A pause fell between them as the cogs whirred in Colin’s mind, and a slight frown appeared on his face. Obviously, it would make no sense at all for the two of them to continue with their lessons in courtship if they had both realised their feelings for one another…but something about her response was beginning to make him doubt. Why had she said ‘good’ like that?

It was no use. He had to pry.

‘Uh, just so I am clear, what is your reasoning, exactly?’ he asked. ‘Is it because of…what happened between us?’

Penelope felt her stomach lurch. She couldn’t believe he had actually brought it up. She had assumed that the two of them would never speak of The Incident and act as if it had never happened.

‘No!’ she said at once, mortified, and she clasped a hand to her chest. ‘N-...no, um...But I assure you, nothing of the kind will ever happen again.’

She was so embarrassed. She would just prefer not to think about it at all; as lovely and as magical as that kiss had been, it had also been rather pathetic of her, and was now the reason for this painful tension and discomfort between them. Their friendship would never be the same again because of it, and she only had herself to blame.

Colin’s head lifted up, a hint of an amused smile playing briefly on his face, even though he could feel his heart sinking at her words. It felt as if he had been brutally rejected. What did she mean, nothing of the kind would ever happen again? Surely that couldn’t be it? It felt like a physical blow to realise that he would never feel or taste her soft, tender lips again.

‘Of course,’ he said, feeling a little bewildered. ‘And I apologise for the-’

But Penelope cut over him before he could finish, her eyes closing again, as if too mortified to remain fully present in the conversation. ‘No! I apologise for asking.’

‘Please do not apologise,’ Colin said reassuringly, smiling, while his heart lurched unsteadily; did her words mean that she regretted it?

‘Uh, you apologised,’ Penelope pointed out.

‘Yes, but I...’

Colin trailed off, not knowing what to say. ‘Yes, but I enjoyed it’? ‘Yes, but I wanted more’? He could not think of a single response that Penelope would react well to; her attitude regarding this topic of discussion was not what he had been expecting or hoping for. It was utterly hopeless, and certainly a far cry from the way he had been dreaming of this reunion going.

‘Yes,’ he finished, his smile fading and his eyes darting about as he tried to comprehend the inner workings of both their minds.

Another silence fell between them. Penelope kept her head bent down, her hands still fiddling with her shawl.

This was terrible. Neither of them had ever felt or acted so awkward around one another before. They had never been utterly lost for words. And these shared grimaces and stilted pauses were truly painful.

Colin swayed on his feet before blurting out, ‘The lessons. You…said they cannot continue,’ he prompted, still feeling rather confused.

He didn’t understand. Why on earth would Penelope want them to stop? Those lessons were their way of being able to see one another on a regular basis. They had been enjoying their time together immensely. Or had that all just been him?

Penelope nodded rapidly. ‘They cannot,’ she said, forcing a soft chuckle; she wasn’t sure why he was having such a problem with grasping the reality of their situation now. ‘Whistledown has written about us. I have…embarrassed myself and my family, and if we were to continue, I would embarrass yours as well.’

Colin nodded, though he wasn’t sure he had fully heard her. ‘Yes. That is very... sensible,’ he said, simply because he could not think of how else to respond.

‘Sensible’ was not a word either of them liked to hear. The two of them had never been sensible with one another throughout the entire course of their relationship.

‘In fact, it may be best if we keep our distance for now,’ Penelope suggested, gesturing between them with her hands as she took the tiniest of steps back.

Colin’s smile disappeared and he stared at her, frozen. He was taken aback; this was the very opposite of what he wanted. Keep their distance? How? Why? And why didn’t Penelope seem so utterly devastated by such an idea?

Eventually, he found it in him to speak. ‘Oh, of... of course,’ he said, looking down at the ground.

He did understand, he supposed. But that didn’t stop it being a dagger to his heart.

Penelope felt almost touched by the strained expression on his face; the fact that he did not seem to wish to keep his distance from her, even after she had put him in an impossible situation and forced him to kiss her, was heartwarming indeed. But this was the only way. Her reputation was damaged, possibly beyond repair, and the only way she could have a chance at salvaging it was if she stayed away from him, partly to stop the gossip, and also to prevent herself from falling back into that deceptive hope for something more. Only then would she be able to build a life of her own.

‘I must become serious about my prospects,’ Penelope said, trying to act light-hearted. 

Prospects I’m not a part of, Colin realised.

He forced a smile. ‘Prospects are important.’

He was still rather befuddled by the direction this conversation had taken, when they had always seen so eye-to-eye before, but he was trying his best to act polite. He couldn’t let her see that he was crushed by each new sentence that came out of her mouth.

‘Prospects which have gone from very little to even less, but…I must do my best,’ Penelope went on bracingly.

‘Yes, you must…do,’ Colin said, his smile having never been more false as he raised his eyes briefly to the heavens.

He didn’t know what to do with his hands, or his face, or his entire body. He barely even knew what words were coming out of his mouth; he just found himself agreeing with whatever she was saying. He was so unsure and confused.

They gazed at each other with strained expressions, both of them at a loss, both their hearts jittery. Suddenly they found themselves yearning for nothing more than to return to the reliable foundation of their platonic friendship, what seemed like years ago now, when they could talk and laugh with such joy and ease. Now, there was only a sense of embarrassment and self-consciousness that lingered painfully between them.

Realising there was no salvaging this situation, Colin decided to put an end to his misery.

‘Well...’ he began, his voice most unlike his own, and he forced another smile at her. ‘Um...I will go and leave you to it.’

But Penelope was shaking her head, as if horrified by the mere suggestion. ‘Oh,’ she protested, holding her hand out at once. ‘I will go.’

She had already turned to leave, chuckling awkwardly, but Colin couldn’t let that be it.

‘Uh, Penelope. I...’ he said, as Penelope turned back to him, looking rather wary.

Colin hesitated. He did not want to let her walk away. But how could he not? He wanted her to be happy, and maintaining their distance was undeniably the best thing for her. Besides, everything was fine really. They were just two good friends who happened to have kissed passionately in secret under the moonlight, and now they could both move on with their lives, just like Penelope wanted.

‘I hope y...Well, I...I wish very much for your happiness,’ Colin said, his voice deep and gentle as he gazed down at her.

It wasn’t what he had wanted to say. He meant it, of course, but there was so much more that he had been wanting to say to her for days. Nevertheless, he could see now that Penelope had not been affected as he had by that night in the garden. She simply wanted to avoid him and try again for a suitor. What was the point in him saying anything else that would cause any complexities or tarnish their friendship?

Penelope blinked with shining eyes as she gazed up at him; his sincerity moved her deeply. ‘Thank you,’ she said softly. ‘F-for all your kindness.’

Colin’s expression softened as he gazed back at her. He was devastated; did she really only see their lessons and their kiss as a mere kindness? A favour? Did she not see that they had meant so much more to him than that?

Penelope smiled sadly. She had been trying so hard not to let the pain consume her since the moment they had met under this tree, but it was difficult. He clearly still pitied her, and the strength it was taking to force herself to let go of her first love, after experiencing what it was like to kiss him, was truly heartbreaking. But she had to move on. She had to.

‘If I secure a proposal, it will be because of you,’ Penelope went on, smiling up at him.

Colin’s mouth opened, but she did not give him time to respond, for she couldn’t bear this any longer; with a little awkward nod, she tore her gaze from his and stepped out from the willow tree’s protective screen to re-join Rae, who had been standing guard and waiting for her.

Colin remained stood under the willow tree, alone and stunned, as he gazed after her, her words echoing painfully in his ears.

‘If I secure a proposal, it will be because of you.’

He exhaled softly, his eyes still on the spot where Penelope had left the willow tree. He felt himself slowly begin to deflate.

What have I done?

Colin continued to stand there in stunned silence under the shelter of the weeping willow – for how long, he could not say. He kept replaying the conversation they had just had over and over in his head, trying to work out where precisely he had gone wrong; it hadn’t exactly gone quite as he had hoped.

‘It would not have to mean anything’, Penelope had said last week, on that memorable night.

Oh, how wrong she had been.

He was incredibly frustrated with himself. Why had he only just seen her, truly seen her, now? For years he had been lucky enough to know her, to be her friend, so how was it that he had been so blind? So stupid? She had been right in front of him, always loyal, always caring, always funny, for as long as he could remember. She had been such a constant in his life that he had never even thought twice about it, until that kiss had smacked him over the head.

But at least he could see it now.

He was no longer the one teaching her in matters of the heart; Penelope was the one who had taught him that he was a young, naïve fool with still a great deal to learn. But he was a fast learner, and she had revived something in him, a rhythm that had brought him back to life, to his true self.

Colin couldn’t explain how or when or why it had happened; all he knew was that he was falling for her, to the point of him hearing wedding bells ringing in his ears. And, for now, that knowledge enough was all that mattered to him.

Chapter Text

Penelope walked alongside Rae as they headed back to Featherington House from the park, needing some comfort from a friend. That conversation with Colin under the weeping willow had been far more painful than she had anticipated it would be. It had been her putting a reluctant end to what had been, up until last week, the most enjoyable time she had ever experienced during a social season.

‘Are you all right, miss?’ Rae asked softly. ‘Only, you seem a little…downcast.’

‘Am I not always?’ Penelope said, raising her eyebrows, and she let out a rather sombre chuckle. ‘You cannot deny that this week, I have been particularly…well, I can only apologise if I have dragged your mood down as well.’

But Rae was shaking her head reassuringly. ‘You do not need to apologise, miss. Whatever happened-’

‘Nothing happened. Truly,’ Penelope said at once, forcing a smile and a brisk nod. ‘I am fine. Mr. Bridgerton and I are well. We are very well. We are just going to keep our distance for now, to hopefully stop the…gossip.’

‘Of course. How was he?’ Rae asked tentatively. ‘Just now?’

‘He was…he was…not quite himself, actually,’ Penelope said, frowning as she thought back to Colin’s bizarre, flustered behaviour. ‘But I suppose he would be a little odd after…never mind. Thank you, Rae. For…watching out for us.’

Rae smiled back at her. ‘Of course, miss.’

Penelope was certain that Rae did not know the full extent of what had happened in that garden the night Colin had come to visit, but she also knew that Rae was no fool. She had seen the way Penelope had rushed back up to her bedchamber in tears, hyperventilating. She had witnessed her dazed behaviour thereafter, and her dreamy stares towards Bridgerton House through the window…not to mention the way her fingers occasionally brushed against her own lips, simply just to try and relive the moment that had simultaneously been the best and most humiliating moment of her life thus far.

Penelope had spent this past week shut away in her bedchamber consumed by a strange whirlwind of emotions. She had known that the harsh gossip she herself had had printed about her in Lady Whistledown would take a while to die down, so while she had hidden away and dwelled on her ruined future, she had also spent her days in isolation replaying that kiss repeatedly in her mind. The memory of it brought her both a giddy thrill and utter despair.

She had always hoped that if she were ever to be kissed in her life, it would be at the man’s instigation, because he wanted to. But the reality was that she had had no choice but to plead for it, simply because she’d known that if she had not then she would never have had a chance of experiencing the one thing she had longed for since the very first romantic novel she had read as a young adolescent. It was rather pathetic, really, that it had come to that, and that her friend had obliged clearly only because he had felt desperately sorry for her in that moment and had not wanted to cause her any more pain by rejecting her.

And yet…

She had only been expecting a peck – just a brief touch of the lips from Colin, and then for him to back away in embarrassment and flee. But he had not backed away. Instead, he had kissed her again. A real, true kiss. One that had made her melt into the feel of him. One that still had her weak in the knees. It had been everything she had ever dreamed of and yet also so much more than she could have imagined. The novels of love she had read did not do such a thing justice. It had been so gloriously romantic.

But there was no point thinking over those beautiful details, no point at all. Colin had been doing her a kind favour, that was all. She had gone over it, again and again in her head, and told herself that she could not allow herself to think that maybe, just maybe, he might have felt something in return, for she had been burned by him in that way before at the end of last season, and she did not want to let herself by devastated by Colin Bridgerton ever again.

The romance of that kiss had been in her head entirely, for the whole event had been contrived. It had been false, an illusion, a mere favour, and one that would never be repeated; the fact that he hadn’t come to see her in the week that had passed – not to mention the awkward, flustered expression that had seemed permanently set on Colin’s face when they had met under the willow tree earlier – was definite proof of that.

She did not resent him for that, though. Indeed, she was grateful that he had granted her that wonderful experience, and that he did not seem to want to end their friendship or think any less of her because of it. He had kissed her lips, and in doing so he had saved her.

It was no wonder, really, that Colin had been taking up all her mind every second of every day, and most probably always would. She had tried to stop and move on so many times before, but now that kiss had really secured him a permanent space in her head and heart. How foolish she had been, to put herself in that position and let him break her heart again when he hadn’t even done anything wrong.

One day, sometime in the near future hopefully, she might stop falling in love with Colin. Perhaps she might even meet someone who would like her in the way Colin never would. But until then, she would have the memory of that kiss to hold onto, and she could pretend in her dizziest daydreams that they were so much more than friends, that that kiss had been as real for him as it had been for her.

She would never have imagined that there would ever be a first kiss with Colin Bridgerton to look back on, and treasure in her memory forever. She had just never thought it would happen for her, and she knew this strange afterglow as a result of it would never disappear from her, not in a million years, even if she now felt finally ready to move on. That kiss had been the last goodbye act she had needed from him, a farewell to all her fantasies and hopes. And now, she could finally let go of Colin Bridgerton for good.

Penelope knew that there was no point in continuing to hide away in shame and isolation for the rest of the season. People would talk about her and sneer at her, no matter what, they always would. As an outcast, she always got rebuffed anyway, but she would simply just have to ignore them and shake off their nastiness.

She wanted to resume living a life. She wanted to try tackling society events again. And, now that she had had a taste of what romance could be like, she didn’t want to give up her hope for that completely, not just yet. There may still be someone out there for her, someone who would not be deterred by her own writings in Lady Whistledown. He would not be able to kiss her the way Colin had, but he may come close, whoever he was. Things still may be all right for her, if she tried.

So, it was with trepidation that Penelope accompanied her mother to the soirée at Stowell House the next evening. It was a nice respite from the endless balls, to have a more intimate gathering with no dancing or frivolity required, and it would be a nice stepping stone to ease Penelope back into society. Well, she very much hoped so, anyway.

The stately halls of Stowell House were softly illuminated by the gentle glow of candlelight, casting a warm and inviting ambiance for the evening’s affair as Penelope and Portia entered. The rooms were decorated with mahogany furniture, and the yellow walls were lined with stuffed heads of animals, proudly on display from the family’s hunting trips, and gilded frames of portraits. The unpleasant view of the hunting trophies hovering above them all only heightened Penelope’s anxiety. What would people do when she walked into the room? What would people say?

It seemed Portia’s mind was on very much the same thing.

‘It is a pity your sisters are otherwise occupied,’ Portia said as she led the way into the main drawing room, Penelope trailing along behind her. ‘If they were here, you would have more people to hide behind.’

‘I cannot stay in my room forever, Mama,’ Penelope said in an uncharacteristically bitter, deep voice. ‘Some new scandal will distract them soon enough.’

‘Very well. Just…keep a low profile,’ Portia said, fixing Penelope with a stern look.

Penelope almost wished she hadn’t bothered to show up. If her own mother was going to act embarrassed to be seen with her, then what hope did she have of having any decent social interaction or positive takeaway from this evening? Nevertheless, she knew she must stay strong and face the music. It was the only way, and she was not ready to resign herself to a life sentence of lonely misery just yet.

Penelope looked around the room, wondering if she could seek any relief or solace away from her mother. The guests, dressed in their most refined evening attire, were gathered in small, conversational clusters throughout the drawing room. Crystal glasses filled with the finest wines and lemonade were waiting on refreshments tables, their trays also bearing an array of delicate hors d’oeuvres. If she had to pick between the two, Penelope knew deep down it was the latter she would always prefer; reliable refreshments over socialising with the snobs of the ton was always so much easier.

She then peered to the side just as none other than Colin entered the room.

Their eyes met.

Flustered, Penelope quickly turned away.  She wondered what she was to him now, after what had transpired. Did she still fall under the ‘friend’ territory? Or was she something else in his mind? Some strange, unknown category of ‘an old friend who has now made things unbelievably awkward and difficult by enforcing a kiss’?

Whatever he thought of her, there was no point dwelling on it. Penelope had meant what she had said under that willow tree – they needed to stay away from one another after what had happened. It made her miserable to avoid the only person who made her smile, but it was the only way. She did not want any more reminders of that kiss, not if she were to truly move on.

‘I think I see a corner in which to hide myself,’ Penelope said to her mother; Portia nodded absent-mindedly and Penelope walked away, determined to put as much distance between herself and Colin as was reasonably possible.

Colin felt rather jittery as he, Eloise and Benedict walked further into the Stowell’s drawing room. He wished that Penelope hadn’t darted away like that as soon as she had seen him. It was not like them at all. But then again, what was normal for the two of them anymore? Everything had changed for them the moment Penelope had asked him to kiss her last week. Yet still, it saddened him deeply to realise that this was the first social assembly since Penelope had made her debut three years ago in which neither of them was able to approach one another.

Benedict soon made his excuses to hurry away to another part of the room in his eagerness to hide from the attentions of Miss Stowell. Eloise chuckled away, but Colin barely registered either of them; he was too busy gazing over at Penelope, who had found a place to stand by the wall.

She was looking even more enchanting than usual, dressed in a beautiful cornflower blue gown, with a smattering of dainty, sparkling floral clips and bows woven through the waves of her hair, which had been elegantly pinned into a bun at the nape of her neck. She was stunning, and he did not see how no one else in this room could see it, how she was not being crowded with besotted suitors.

Eloise watched him as he stared over at Penelope, and cleared her throat awkwardly. ‘You should know,’ she said, ‘I spoke to Penelope.’

Colin’s neck snapped towards her, his jaw softening at once as he gave Eloise his full, undivided attention for the first time in days. ‘Did you?’ he said in a higher, almost vulnerable voice quite unlike the one he often liked to adopt at such social occasions. ‘What did...what did she say?’

Colin’s heart was racing. He was desperate for any morsel of information she had. Were Penelope and Eloise now on speaking terms again and he had somehow missed it? And if so…had Penelope told Eloise what had happened between the two of them? Could Penelope also barely function? Could she not stop thinking about it either?

Eloise looked confused. ‘Well, I apologised for revealing the story about you two, I…’

‘Oh, I see,’ Colin said, feeling both relieved and disappointed, and he nodded at her. ‘Um...thank you for that. Excuse me.’

He had already stepped away before Eloise had a chance to finish what she had next been going to say, and left her staring after him looking utterly perplexed.

Colin had no idea where he was going, he simply wanted to sulk alone. Was he truly the only one whose mind was consumed with that kiss? Had Penelope really not been affected by it at all? He just couldn’t understand it. He glanced back over at Penelope in the corner; he took a step forward but then backed away at once. She had made it clear that she wanted them to keep their distance. He had to respect her boundaries, after all, or what sort of a gentleman was he?

Penelope was utterly oblivious to Colin watching her as she hovered awkwardly in the corner. Only a few minutes had gone by, and yet she was already fed up with simply standing by the wall in solitude – which was strange, as such a thing used to be her favourite pastime at these social gatherings.

She then caught sight of Lords Stanton and Wilding stood talking close by; swallowing, Penelope cautiously began to move towards them. After all, if she was serious about trying to get back onto the marriage mart, what was the point in waiting? If one fell off a horse, the first thing one should do was get right back on the saddle. And these two gentlemen were Colin’s new friends; surely, they must be amiable enough.

To her relief, Lord Stanton noticed and addressed her.

‘Miss Featherington,’ he greeted politely, though there was something rather false about his smile as he nodded at her.

‘My lords,’ Penelope said, smiling up at them both as they stood there with their drinks and looked at her appraisingly. ‘Are you enjoying your evening?’

‘Are you in search of a new prospect to help you find a husband?’ Lord Wilding retorted, exchanging a knowing glance with his friend as he raised his glass to his lips.

Penelope’s smile disappeared at once and her stomach dropped. She could already feel herself beginning to retreat further inwards. Perhaps her mother was right; perhaps she should have stayed hidden in her bedchamber.

‘Good luck,’ Lord Stanton said, ‘in both endeavours.’

The two smirking men then walked away, making no effort to hide their laughter as they went.

Penelope blinked rapidly as they left her, and she sighed. She couldn’t believe it. She was no idiot; she knew that it wouldn’t have been easy trying to move past last week’s edition of Lady Whistledown. But she had hoped there would be some decency left amongst the ton, a chance to allow her a fresh start without judgement. How naïve she was to think that anyone would want to have anything to do with her.

Colin’s eyes sharpened as he watched Lords Stanton and Wilding walk away from Penelope; he had not heard the words exchanged, but he had not needed to, for he saw the looks on their faces, and he saw the way Penelope’s shoulders sank in defeat as they left her.

He was debating whether the best course of action was to march up to the two lords and reprimand them for their behaviour, or to simply go straight to Penelope and comfort her instead, when a cheerful voice broke his reverie.

‘Bridgerton!’

Colin tore his gaze away from Penelope and looked up; Will and Alice Mondrich were strolling up to him, both of them looking quite spectacular in their new clothes. Their rise to join the ranks of nobility since their son had recently inherited the Kent Estate seemed to be suiting them rather well; Will looked dashing in his resplendent tails, and Mrs. Mondrich incredibly stylish in a frock of red and gold, with sheer puff sleeves.

‘Mr. and Mrs. Mondrich,’ Colin said in pleasant surprise, smiling as he admired their attire. ‘What a strikingly noble figure the two of you both cut.’

‘Don’t we?’ Will said with a flicker of his eyebrows at Mrs. Mondrich, and the married pair smiled proudly at one another.

Colin tried to keep his attention on them, but even good manners were not enough to keep his gaze from diverting once again towards Penelope. She was hovering by the window in the corner now, her back to everyone. She looked most forlorn. He wanted nothing more than to go up to her, but he had to remind himself that she had said they must keep apart from one another. All he could do was watch her from afar, and it felt so unnatural to him. It felt so wrong.

‘Are you assessing your pupil?’ Mrs. Mondrich asked, watching Colin with a smile.

Flustered to have been caught, Colin turned back to them and forced a smile. ‘Ah...I see that, with good fortune and good taste, gossip has made its way into your home as well,’ he said.

He was half-joking, but he was also rather resentful. He had really hoped that new members to the ton would not be so easily influenced by the hateful gossip-writer. Was there really no one left in Mayfair that did not judge or pity Penelope for simply accepting help from a friend?

‘You cannot blame me, for Whistledown proves to be quite an education,’ Mrs. Mondrich said, directing her fan towards Colin.

‘Mm...’ Colin said, smiling as he looked down; he supposed he could not argue with that.

‘But, unlike the rest of the ton, I do not find what you did shocking, but…rather considerate,’ Mrs. Mondrich said warmly, and Colin regarded her in pleasant surprise. ‘Gallant, even.’

‘It is the mark of a good man to help a friend in need,’ Will said.

‘And I am sure because of your kind-heartedness, she will find herself a husband in no time,’ Mrs. Mondrich went on.

She was trying to be reassuring, Colin knew that, and he was grateful to them both for being so kind and understanding. But Mrs. Mondrich’s words had made Colin’s heart plummet to the very bottom of his stomach.

Colin glimpsed back towards Penelope.

‘She will find herself a husband in no time.’

It was strange, how merely a few weeks ago that goal had been at the forefront of Colin’s mind. And yet now it was his worst nightmare.

He turned back to the Mondrich’s. ‘Yes,’ he said, rather unsteadily, as he forced a nod. ‘That is…of course, the hope.’

He offered them a faint, brittle smile, before turning back to face Penelope. His face fell sadly.

‘You should go and speak to her if it is concerning you so much,’ Will suggested.

‘Ah, I…I cannot do that,’ Colin said, turning back to them. ‘We have agreed to keep our distance for now, it-it would not look right to be seen together.’

‘Oh, these rules,’ Mrs. Mondrich said wearily, and she rolled her eyes. ‘I shall never get used to them. It seems harsh that two friends should be forced to stay apart from one another for such a trivial reason.’

Colin cleared his throat uncomfortably. There it was again, that word. Friends.

Will tilted his head at him, a frown on his face. ‘You do not seem yourself, Bridgerton, is everything well?’ he asked.

Colin swallowed as he forced himself to meet their gaze. ‘Everything is…as it should be,’ he said, nodding. ‘Yes. I am…yes.’

If Will and his wife were unconvinced by his answer, they did not show it and proceeded to talk about their latest excursions out into society as they adjusted to life running the Kent Estate.

Colin tried to pay attention to them – they were lovely company, after all, and he had become very good friends with Will – but it was hard. He just couldn’t take his eyes off Penelope. His mind had not been able to stop racing with thoughts of her all through today in anticipation of potentially seeing her at tonight’s soirée, and she was truly glowing. The sight of her stood there with her elegant hair and stunning blue gown left him weak.

He was met with yet another urge to cross the room to her to talk, but talking would not be enough. He needed to hold her, to feel her lips on his again.

Could there be a chance that she might feel as he did?

Colin’s face fell then; no, Penelope had made it clear underneath the weeping willow that she did not feel the same. She wanted to act as if their kiss had never happened, and for them to avoid one another. She couldn’t have made it plainer than that in terms of where they stood, and it was time Colin accepted it. No matter how much he did not want to.

***

Over in her trusty, lonely corner of the Stowell’s drawing room, Penelope reached for a glass from the refreshments table and lifted the drink to her lips, barely aware of the gentleman slowly approaching her. She had given up for the night, she had decided. Lord Stanton and Lord Wilding had knocked her down even further, not one single person in this room had come anywhere near her, as if she were some infectious disease, and it was just not worth the effort anymore. She could see that now, and she was resigned to her fate.

‘Good evening, Miss Featherington.’

Penelope looked up in surprise. It was Lord Debling, the kind gentleman she had briefly met during Lady Danbury’s ball a few weeks ago. He must have come over to find a drink – why else would he venture over to her solitary spot?

Penelope could not even be bothered to put on a smile or her usual girly, slightly higher-pitched voice. ‘Good evening,’ she murmured, her eyes fixed ahead.

Lord Debling regarded her. ‘Are you enjoying the party?’ he asked.

‘Immensely,’ Penelope said, still not looking at him and not even bothering to hide the despondence or sarcasm from her voice. ‘And yourself?’

‘Rather,’ Lord Debling replied with a nod. ‘Besides the fact that I am feeling a little like...well, prey.’

‘So you have come to my hiding place. Welcome,’ Penelope said, flashing him a glance and a brief smile. ‘Although, typically, only abject failures and social outcasts are allowed.’

‘You will not take pity on a hunted man?’

‘Hmm, unfortunately, I require all pity for myself. But I can offer you social contagion in exchange,’ Penelope said, gesturing the empty space around them.

Lord Debling raised his eyebrows at her. ‘You must have done something truly heinous. I have foregone eating the flesh of dead animals, and they barely tolerate me for that great sin.’

Penelope blinked rather rapidly as she looked up at him, curious. Was it just her being mad, or did Lord Debling seem to actually want to talk to her? And was he truly ignorant of the gossip surrounding her?

‘You do not read Lady Whistledown?’ she asked.

In truth, she did not know whether to feel relieved or offended by the idea. Surely everyone in the ton read her paper? The endless stacks of money tucked underneath the floorboards in her bedchamber certainly suggested so.

‘I do not,’ Lord Debling said. ‘Has she written about you?’

‘She has.’

‘And of what did she write?’ Lord Debling asked, sounding interested.

Penelope hesitated; there was no point lying, he would find out soon enough anyway. ‘That I enlisted an eligible male friend to help me find a husband,’ she said, glancing briefly at him then averting her gaze in embarrassment. 

Lord Debling smiled, as if impressed. ‘I say. Well done.’

‘For being a fool?’ Penelope said, still keeping her eyes on the floor.

‘For stepping away from the herd,’ Lord Debling said, and at his words Penelope looked up to meet his eyes, ‘even though you risked becoming a target. Just like him.’

He pointed towards one of the deer heads mounted high up on the wall. Penelope followed his gaze then turned back to him, a little stunned by this unexpected conversation.

‘He is dead,’ she pointed out.

‘True,’ Lord Deling said thoughtfully. ‘But at least he got to come to the party.’

Penelope couldn’t help chucking, and Lord Debling smiled at her. ‘A rather dull one, if I am honest,’ she said, without thinking.

She regretted the words the moment they had spilled from her mouth, and her face fell.

Lord Debling tilted his head at her, amused.

She pulled a face. ‘Forgive me, I should not have said that,’ she said, mortified.

‘Do not apologise,’ Lord Debling said, the corner of his eyes and lips crinkling into a warm smile. ‘In fact, I find your frankness immensely refreshing.’

Penelope gazed up at him, feeling suddenly much lighter than the downcast person she had been merely two minutes ago. His expression and words were so sincere. He wasn’t pitying or judging her, unlike everyone else assembled here tonight; he seemed to be truly enjoying her company. That was something Penelope would have considered a miracle not so long ago.

She smiled at him, grateful, and chuckled softly. It felt good, to receive some positive attention from a suitor for once, and a very nice one at that. It felt more than good, in fact.

Across the room, Colin was trying to listen to what Will and Mrs. Mondrich were saying, but it was very hard when over their shoulder he could see Penelope now engaged in conversation with Lord Debling. She was smiling quite genuinely at him and gazing up at him with those stunning blue eyes of hers, her pale face radiant in the soft candlelight. She looked utterly enraptured by the fancy lord. And it was eating Colin up inside just to see it.

‘Is everything all right, Mr. Bridgerton?’ Mrs. Mondrich asked.

But Colin barely heard her; he had noticed that Penelope had just taken a step closer to Lord Debling as they continued to speak. She then laughed at something he said. Her smile was so beautiful when she laughed. Colin tightened his lips and swallowed uncomfortably.

‘Ah. Success,’ Mrs. Mondrich said in pleasant surprise, following Colin’s gaze to spot Penelope and Lord Debling, and she turned back to him with an encouraging smile. ‘See. Didn’t I tell you?’

‘Isn’t he the one meant to be the most eligible lord of this season, as well?’ Will said, making Colin’s fists clench.

Mrs. Mondrich raised her eyebrows at her husband, impressed. ‘My love, you have done your research.’

‘Or I merely overheard the mothers over there,’ Will said, and they both chuckled.

‘He seems quite taken with her,’ Mrs. Mondrich noted, a soft expression on her face.

‘They do not even know one another.’

The words came out of Colin in a much sharper voice than he had intended, and a stunned pause fell between the three of them. Colin closed his eyes in regret at once and cleared his throat, averting his gaze awkwardly.

Will inhaled bracingly. ‘Well, they are certainly getting to know one another,’ he said, trying to diffuse the tension. ‘Which is good.’

Colin forced himself to look up at them and smiled. ‘Y-yes, indeed,’ he said, nodding, and he shifted his position slightly so that he was not directly facing Penelope and Lord Debling.

He then noticed that Mrs. Mondrich was still watching him. She wore a soft, knowing gaze and had a hint of a smile on her lips. Colin swallowed uncomfortably and looked down, his cheeks reddening.

He needed to keep a better control of himself. If he kept things up at this rate, then the whole ton would soon work out his feelings, which was a lot to contend with when he couldn’t even fully work them out himself. And Penelope would not like it, not one bit. After all, it had never been clearer that Colin was utterly alone in his affections.

***

The soirée was slowly coming to an end as guests started to depart. Penelope was in a bit of a daze; she had spent the last part of the evening conversing entirely with Lord Debling. She had felt the tension in her body melt away as they had continued speaking, mainly out of relief that, at last, someone in the ton did not wish to walk away from her after merely a few moments of speaking to her.

Lord Debling was attentive, and interested in knowing more about her. He had a very warm, kind, open presence about him. He had informed her that he had another wildlife excursion planned for the near future, a voyage to the North that would take him far away from society life with multiple years away. Penelope was rather disheartened to learn this at first, until she remembered that whomever he was to take as his wife would then be afforded a private, comfortable, independent lifestyle few women in the ton had the luxury of. In fact, Lord Debling was the ideal man who fit the criteria she had listed to Genevieve at the beginning of the season.

There were no butterflies, of course not, but he was very nice. Very, very nice, in fact.

‘I hope very much to see more of you soon, Miss Featherington,’ Lord Debling said, as he collected his coat and top hat to leave.

Penelope smiled rather giddily. ‘Oh…w-well I shall be at the hot air balloon launch event in a few days’ time.’

‘Excellent,’ Lord Debling said, smiling back. ‘Then I shall certainly endeavour to attend. Good evening, Miss Featherington.’

‘Good evening, my lord,’ Penelope said, unable to hide her good mood.

With a smile and a bow of his head, Lord Debling then took his leave.

Penelope watched him go with parted lips and wide eyes; she was so dazed that it took her a few moments to realise that Lady Danbury was approaching her.

‘Well, well, well,’ Lady Danbury said loudly, making Penelope jump, and she raised her eyebrows at her. ‘I must say, I am impressed, Miss Featherington.’

‘L-Lady Danbury,’ Penelope said, flustered, and she curtsied. ‘Forgive me, I am not quite sure what…you are impressed?’

‘Mm-hm. You have risen above the ton’s gossip and shown your face. Straight into the fire. I like it,’ Lady Danbury said, smiling. ‘And it seems to have worked out rather well for you, unless I am mistaken? Lord Deling seemed very taken with you this evening.’

Penelope immediately began to blush. ‘O-oh, well I…I do not know about that…’

‘Miss Featherington. A word of advice?’ Lady Danbury said, taking a step closer to her. ‘Take the compliment. And take pride in your triumphs. Always.’

A grateful smile bloomed on Penelope’s face. ‘Yes, Lady Danbury. Thank you.’

‘And with that, I shall bid you goodnight. I was ready for my bed long ago,’ Lady Danbury said, making Penelope chuckle, and with that she strode away, her cane tapping loudly against the polished wooden floor as she went.

Penelope’s pleased smile faltered the moment she caught sight of her mother, beckoning her towards the entrance while she fetched their wraps and reticules; clearly, she was impatient for them to head back home as well.

Sighing, Penelope began to walk out of the drawing room towards her, when suddenly Colin darted out in front of her.

‘Pen,’ Colin said, acting surprised, as if he had not clapped eyes on her one single time these past few hours.

‘Colin,’ Penelope said, alarmed. ‘Uh, my mother and I were just leaving.’

‘Y-yes, of course,’ Colin said, his voice rather uneven, and he tilted his head at her. ‘Have you…had a nice time this evening?’

He wasn’t sure what he wanted her to say. That she’d had a terrible time, that Lord Debling had bored her to death and that she had spent the whole evening wishing she had been speaking to him instead?

Penelope’s face began to brighten. ‘I have, actually, I…’

But then she trailed off, her smile fading. She had noticed Lords Stanton and Wilding stood nearby, and they were casting Colin a derisive glance, clearly wondering why he was talking to her. She sighed.

‘We should still, err, keep our distance,’ Penelope said awkwardly, looking back at Colin. ‘I do not want people to think worse of you.’

Colin frowned and shook his head. ‘They would not, and I…I do not care what they think,’ he said firmly, his words sincere. ‘I do not wish to avoid you because of some stupid gossip sheet.’

Penelope’s face fell. She knew he meant well, and she knew she ought to be touched by his words. But the words ‘stupid gossip sheet’ cut her deeply; it was never pleasant to hear someone insult one’s life’s work.

‘Well, that is very kind of you, Colin, but still…I…’

She glanced around uneasily, and Colin followed her gaze to see that a few people were watching them suspiciously with sceptical, amused expressions. His heart sank; would they ever be able to go back to how things were, and simply be two people gossiping and giggling in the corner? Or had that Lady Whistledown issue ruined everything for them for good?

He then noticed that Lady Featherington was over by the door gesturing to her daughter impatiently.

Colin swallowed and took a step back. ‘No, of course, I understand. Forgive me,’ he said, his eyes fixed on the floor. ‘I shall bid you goodnight.’

Penelope gave him a small, rather sad smile. ‘Goodnight, Colin.’

She had only made it a few steps when Colin called after her.

‘Penelope, I…I just wanted to say…’ He hesitated when she looked back at him, an inquisitive look on her stunning face. ‘You look very lovely this evening.’

Penelope’s mouth opened in surprise. She hadn’t expected that.

‘Thank you,’ she said softly, her heart skipping. ‘A-as do you.’

He smiled, but she had already turned and dashed away in embarrassment before he could say anything in response.

When the Bridgertons returned home that night, Colin headed straight to his study, rather than his bedchamber, and sat down at his writing desk at once, opening a new page of his journal. He had an intense urge to let out his thoughts, for what else could he do with the storm of emotions raging through his mind?

So he wrote, and he wrote. And he wrote some more. Page after page. Hour after hour.

It was only when the candle had burnt out and the whole of London was eerily quiet that Colin decided that perhaps it was time to put his quill down for now and attempt to get some sleep.

Sleep would finally bring him some peace, after all – for at least in his dreams, he knew he could be assured that Penelope would always be there.

Chapter Text

The day of the much-anticipated hot air balloon event had arrived at last. Lord Hawkins, an eccentric inventor known for his daring pursuits, was set to launch his magnificent hot air balloon, a marvel of engineering and a testament to the spirit of innovation sweeping throughout London. The launch was taking place by the serene lake in Hyde Park, and the enormous blue-and-yellow striped balloon truly was a sight to behold. Its colourful envelope towered above the crowd as it sat tethered to a blue crescent-shaped gondola on a wooden platform, its vibrant colours striking against the overcast sky.

Penelope was feeling unusually bright and cheery as she followed her family towards the entryway to the Hawkins Balloon Launch Event. She had been feeling so stressed, forlorn and under pressure for so long, but the minute she had decided to let that go the other night around Lord Debling, things had taken an upward turn. She was no longer the timid, awkward girl she had been before, and it was about time; she was being truly herself, and as such she felt strangely confident, even at ease. Her Lady Whistledown edition had not ruined her for good after all, and there was still a chance of her achieving her goals for the season.

Everything is going to be all right, she told herself with a smile.

An announcer was calling out dramatically through a megaphone to the crowd as everyone began to arrive: ‘Come one, come all! Watch man attempt to take flight, soaring to heights never before seen!’

Penelope looked around, fascinated. A semi-circle of marquees, tents and vendor stalls surrounded the balloon platform, their canvases flapping noisily in the wind, their tables laden with confections, trinkets, and pamphlets extolling the wonders of balloon flight. Children ran joyously around a brightly decorated maypole with brightly coloured ribbons streaming from it, their laughter ringing out above the hubbub. It was certainly going to be a fun day.

Penelope continued to walk after her family, who were all admiring the hot air balloon as its tall form swayed gently in the blustery breeze.

But Penelope could not care less about balloons.

She was tapping her stomach anxiously as she looked around, keeping her eyes peeled. Lord Debling had said he would be here at the event today, but where was he?

‘I want to be a balloonist one day,’ came a familiar voice.

Penelope turned around; Gregory and Hyacinth Bridgerton were walking just behind her, followed by the rest of their family.

‘I believe it is called an aeronaut,’ Hyacinth retorted as the two of them walked eagerly on.

Penelope’s eyes fell automatically on Colin, who was striding just behind his two younger siblings with Benedict. He had gone back to wearing his long brown coat, and underneath was a brown shirt with navy blue stripes. He looked as dashing as ever.

No. Focus. Lord Debling.

Penelope then turned and walked away, her feet taking her in the direction of the ‘sweet treats’ tent nearby selling a whole array of cakes and desserts.

She hadn’t made it that far when she felt herself slowly come to a halt.

It was no use. She knew that she ought to keep her distance from Colin; they had both agreed as such. But she did not want to, especially not when she was in such uncommonly high spirits.

Penelope then glanced back at Colin. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw that his eyes were already fixed on her. She inclined her head pointedly.

Benedict was in the middle of saying something, but Colin immediately forgot what, for a mere tilt of Penelope’s head had sent him spiralling.

‘Excuse me,’ Colin said, cutting over his brother and tapping him on the arm as he began to walk off after Penelope.

‘Right,’ Benedict said, trying not to be too offended by the interruption.

Colin went over without a moment’s thought, curiosity and hope building within him as he joined Penelope by the entrance to the sweets’ tent.

Penelope turned her head back to him slightly as she led the way into the tent. ‘Pretend to be loitering for sweets, so no one suspects we are speaking together,’ she said softly.

Colin looked rather confused, even taken aback, for a moment. He and Penelope had always spoken with one another, quite openly, at a whole variety of social gatherings these past few seasons, without them ever needing to hide it. Their casual intimacy had never been a problem before.

But then he remembered their situation, and his expression softened.

‘Of course,’ he said in understanding, his hand twitching slightly with nerves.

He followed her to a stall stocked with cakes and sweets, and eyed her keenly. Today, Penelope was wearing an embroidered light teal floral dress that was cinched in at the waist even more than usual, and her hair was done up exquisitely, with little matching circular-shaped pins placed in her curly updo. She really was coming into her own with her attire this season.

She remained turned away from him as she browsed, and Colin wondered whether she was waiting for him to break the silence. Why had she beckoned him over here? Had something changed? Did she want to resume their courtship lessons after all? Or perhaps speak about…other matters?

‘How are you?’ he asked, hovering behind her, his tone of voice eager yet concerned.

Penelope smiled, somewhat smugly. ‘I am well,’ she said, and she meant it. ‘Surprisingly well.’

Colin tilted his head, a soft smile forming on his face. After all that had happened with that awful Lady Whistledown paper, and how hopeless and despondent she had been in the immediate aftermath, it was so nice to see her this way.

Penelope inclined her head slightly towards him. ‘Colin, Lord Debling has shown an interest in me,’ she said, beaming as she turned her attention to some of the other cake displays.

Colin forced a smile, his eyebrows flickering. He had not enjoyed seeing Penelope in the company of Lord Debling the other night, but it was somehow even worse to simply hear her talk about him with a smile from ear to ear.

‘Hmm. It looked that way at Stowell House,’ he said, joining her by the other display.

Penelope was beyond pleased. Now she could talk to Colin normally, as if their lessons had never come to an unfortunate end and their clandestine kiss had never taken place; for now, she at last had a suitor – a real, genuine, interested suitor – to distract from all that awkwardness and prove that she did indeed have something to offer, even if most of the lords and the ton did not see it. It was a relief to know that she and Colin could now celebrate the success of Colin’s tutelage together, for this was what it had all been for, after all.

‘Your lessons worked,’ Penelope said, and Colin looked at her, curious. ‘I was feeling low. In fact, it somehow allowed me to stop…caring so much about how I am perceived, and...I was simply myself.’

She met his eyes and gave him a bright smile. A smile that took his breath away.

Colin’s lips parted as he tried to think of what to say. He knew he should be delighted that his valuable advice had worked. He had to at least try and act it, but it was very difficult.

Penelope noticed that Colin seemed a little stilted, which was disappointing; she had been hoping that he would be a bit more delighted for her, particularly after the debacle of her Lady Whistledown issue having nearly blown her chances entirely. He was smiling, yes, and seemed pleased, but there was a strange air about him today.

Colin frowned slightly as he followed her closely towards yet another display of cakes. He knew he should be ‘loitering for sweets’ instead of standing so close to her, but he couldn’t help invading her personal space; it was like she was drawing him in.

‘Do you feel some attachment to him?’ he asked as he leaned towards her, almost afraid to hear the answer.

His hands were twitching again. He wished he had a glass of lemonade or a cup of tea to occupy them with. It was embarrassing.

Penelope hesitated. ‘It is early,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘But he does seem to have a strength of character. He is not unpleasant to gaze upon,’ she added with a somewhat cheeky smile.

‘Hmm,’ Colin said, chuckling slightly.

He barely registered the way his knuckles clenched as he turned away; he was trying too hard not to voice his displeasure at hearing her say such a thing. He looked up at the tent’s pink canopy as the strained smile froze uncomfortably on his face. He supposed he ought to find comfort in the fact that Penelope had not declared her undying love or affection for Lord Debling, but if anything that made him only feel more agitated; she shouldn’t settle for less than that, as love and affection was what she wanted. Colin hadn’t realised before, when they had initially started their ‘courtship lessons’, that Penelope had even wanted a love match, but after her words to him that night in the garden about thinking herself a stupid girl for thinking she would have a chance at love, it had hit him then that, even if she did not think it likely or possible, love was very much something she wanted. And why shouldn’t she? It was the least she deserved.

Penelope, utterly oblivious to his torment, bought a cake from the vendor while Colin clenched his jaw and fidgeted with his fingers. He began tapping the table nearby, his face twitching, his teeth grinding.

‘Thank you,’ Penelope said to vendor, handing over some coins from her reticule.

She selected a small, iced bun from the display and dipped her finger into the icing without thinking.

Colin almost did a double-take as he watched her dip her icing-flecked finger into her mouth. She slowly licked her plump, pink lips, and Colin’s mouth hung open in awe as he watched her, his heart pounding.

He had been quite tempted by the cakes and sweets laid about the tent himself, but suddenly he found himself realising it wasn’t the cakes that he was hungry for at this very moment. Time seemed to stand still as he watched Penelope and remembered the feel of her lips on his, their taste, how soft they had been, how warm and comforting they had felt, how much he craved to feel their touch again.

Penelope then slowly looked up, only just noticing the stunned, open-mouthed expression on his face. ‘Do I have sugar on my face?’ she asked.

Colin, trying so desperately to control himself, licked his lips and glanced briefly away. ‘No. Um...you removed it,’ he said, forcing a smile and closing his eyes; he knew that if he kept them open, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from staring at her mouth.

Something must be wrong with him, surely. All she was doing was eating a cake…and licking the icing off her fingers and lips. Nothing that warranted rattling someone into a state of shock and lust.

Penelope beamed at him as she clasped her reticule shut. ‘Wish me luck,’ she said.

Looking rather proud of herself, she then turned and began to depart the tent.

Colin smiled, bemused. She seemed so independent and mature now. It made him proud to witness it, yet there was something also rather bittersweet about seeing her going off without needing him anymore. He had always had her undivided attention, and now she was looking elsewhere.

He gazed after her. ‘Good luck,’ he murmured softly; it was painful to say the words, but he did mean them – he genuinely wanted her to be happy.

Penelope had already left the tent in her eagerness to find Lord Debling, so she did not hear Colin. She felt content, even excited, as she walked along towards the balloon platform and other marquees. Things were finally looking up for her. Her hopes of securing a match seemed possible at last!

She walked on past the main platform, admiring the hot air balloon as she went; it looked quiet spectacular indeed. It was turning into quite a blustery day, and the workmen were fully occupied securing the sturdy ropes that held the balloon in place and driving stakes deep into the grass, tying knots with skilled hands to ensure that the balloon would remain grounded until the moment of ascent.

Penelope looked around some more and then a small smile appeared on her face as she caught sight of Lord Debling, standing some distance away behind a pair of ladies. He wore a smart grey coat and top hat, and appeared to be in conversation with someone.

Smiling excitedly to herself, Penelope began making her way towards him…only for the ladies in front to move, revealing Eloise and Cressida, who were already talking to him. Penelope came to a halt at once. She could not imagine anything worse than trying to engage Lord Debling’s interest in front of those two. Scowling, she turned away, fiddling with her earring as she began to walk in the opposite direction.

But then she heard Lord Debling call out.

‘Miss Featherington!’

Penelope stopped again, wincing, and forced herself to turn back around to face him.

‘Over here,’ Lord Debling said, beckoning her over with a smile.

Penelope plastered on an awkward smile and walked over to join the three of them. She noticed Eloise and Cressida exchange a weary look, which did not make her feel any better.

Penelope cleared her throat as she approached. ‘My lord,’ she greeted, curtsying. ‘I do not wish to intrude.’

‘Nonsense. I am about to embark on another trip with no one but my crew,’ Lord Debling said, fixing her with a warm gaze. ‘Surely you will not deny me the company while I have the pleasure of it.’

Penelope smiled, delighted. His words made her feel lighter than air. They were completely unnecessary, and yet they also did not seem false. He truly did wish to be in her company. There were very few people in the ton who she could say that about.

‘Of course not,’ she said, beaming up at him.

‘Eloise?’ Cressida then said loudly, after a moments’ silence between the group.

‘Mm-hm,’ Eloise said, turning to face her with a pained grimace.

‘What is the name of that bird I was telling you I adore?’ she asked.

Eloise hesitated, then cleared her throat awkwardly. ‘The great auk,’ she replied, clearly uncomfortable, as Cressida flashed Lord Debling a hopeful smile.

Penelope frowned at Eloise, perplexed; Eloise gave her a rueful look in response, as if wordlessly trying to say sorry.

Lord Debling was regarding Cressida in pleasant surprise. ‘I am making every effort to prevent the great auk from being eradicated. It is in danger,’ he said.

Penelope opened her mouth in sympathy to say something, but Cressida got in there before she could think of anything.

‘I know. It is so dreadful. Did you know they mate for life?’ Cressida said, laughing softly. ‘I find that so...touching.’

‘Touching,’ Lord Debling finished for her at the same time.

They both began to chuckle, their eyes lighting up.

Well, isn’t this just perfect? Penelope thought bitterly.

Before she knew what she was doing, Penelope then spoke up. ‘I love birds. As well,’ she blurted out, and both Eloise and Cressida turned to look at her in bewilderment. ‘But do you not think the most beautiful birds are sometimes the most common?’

She glanced at the three of them; they were all staring with rather blank expressions. Even Lord Debling looked rather confused.

‘One should not overlook the sparrow,’ Penelope said keenly, gazing up at Lord Debling.

The absurdity of her chosen words hung in the air between them, and she inwardly cursed her awkwardness.

Lord Debling gave a light chuckle, clearly trying to be polite. ‘I suppose one should not,’ he said, though it was evident from his expression that he was clearly searching for something more engaging to grasp onto.

Penelope chuckled; Cressida did the same, only a little snidely. Eloise, meanwhile, simply looked like she wished she had never been born in this moment.

The wind continued to strengthen and whip through the trees, causing the leaves to rustle and the branches to sway. Despite the blustery conditions, the crowd’s enthusiasm remained undiminished. Well, apart from perhaps Colin.

In an attempt to distract himself from his anguished thoughts, Colin had bought the same iced bun that Penelope had purchased from the sweets’ tent, and was relieved to realise that his appetite finally seemed to have come back. He had been struggling to eat for days, but now there was nothing he wanted more than to enjoy the same cake Penelope had.

What was this madness that had come over him? How long would it take to cure him of this torment? Would he ever be able to stop thinking about it – about Penelope, about that kiss, about how much he longed for her? Or should he just surrender to the feeling now, and accept that there was no escaping what his heart craved? He couldn’t ignore it, after all. He had tried that, multiple times, and failed.

He simply didn’t understand this new effect Penelope had over him, and the sheer power of it – how she now had the ability to make his heart skip a beat and leave him utterly dumbstruck and speechless. How could someone who had been one’s dearest friend for so many years suddenly be able to do that? It was terrifying. But it was also exhilarating.

Colin found himself thinking back to his ill-fated courtship with Marina Thompson two years ago. He had thought at the time that he had been in love with her, but what was happening to him right now was so much stronger, so much more agonising. He hadn’t found it torture to be away from Marina. He hadn’t been consumed by dreams of her. He hadn’t been utterly broken-hearted when he had realised they would never have a future together.

Penelope, on the other hand? He was completely lost in her. It was the most frightening, confounding, bewildering, fantastical thing he had ever experienced.

The announcer was still striding about the meadow, calling out through his megaphone: ‘Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it is here! The Hawkins Balloon!’

Colin had entirely forgotten about the hot air balloon though, despite having heard Gregory gush excitedly about nothing else for the past week; he was too busy preoccupied with what was occurring on the other side of the balloon’s platform. With his coat now slung over his arm and the sleeves of his dark shirt rolled up to his elbows, Colin watched from a distance, with a solemn expression on his face, as Penelope continued to engage in conversation with Lord Debling, Eloise and Cressida.

Despite the other two ladies being there, Penelope’s attention was clearly very much focussed on Lord Debling and him only. It was confusing, even unsettling, to witness; Penelope had always sought out Colin’s company at social events, never that of any other gentleman. He’d taken her company and attention for granted far too much. It was a strange, quiet type of agony to come to terms with the fact that she had won his heart, and yet he was losing her to someone else. The one thing he now wanted, the only one he ever needed, was now out of reach, when for so long she had always been right at his side.

Trying not to feel too miserable, Colin popped the last bite of the iced bun he had purchased into his mouth, taking care to lick the icing from his fingers, just as Penelope had done.

‘Bridgerton,’ came a voice, and Colin spun around; Lords Wilding and Stanton were approaching him. ‘I should have known we would find you here today, marvelling at man’s ingenuity.’

‘You do love the fanciful,’ Lord Stanton said, as the two men looked up admiringly at the hot air balloon, and Colin eyed him questioningly, his new persona that still lingered on the surface resenting such a comment. ‘Is that what inspired you to take up the occupation of marriage whisperer?’

The two men exchanged a glance and began chuckling, but Colin cut over them before they could carry on with their mockery. He could not stand to be laughed at. He’d had enough of being teased and looked down upon by the men of the ton, and had sworn before returning to London this season that he would put an end to it.

‘I am done with all that,’ he said firmly, and he flickered his eyebrows at them, placing the mask of the charming, arrogant rogue back on. ‘It is good to be back.’

He smiled confidently at them before turning back to the balloon platform. Two workmen were climbing onto the gondola and checking the guide ropes, presumably to ensure that the balloon was secure and to steady it as much as they could. The balloon was not half as interesting as what was going on across the other side of the platform, however, and so, unable to help it, Colin’s eyes drifted once more over to Penelope, still stood with Lord Debling.

The wind had begun to pick up even more. The event banner was flapping in the breeze, and the tree branches were swaying rather dramatically. Penelope was not taking much notice of the weather, though; her attention was fully on Lord Debling, and her attempts to salvage this rather awkward group conversation with Cressida and Eloise were becoming more and more desperate as time went on.

‘I spend all the time I possibly can outdoors,’ Cressida was saying to Lord Debling, while Eloise fanned herself wearing a glazed expression. ‘In fact, I find myself quite adaptable to the natural world in all of its splendour.’

‘Do you, Miss Cowper?’ Lord Debling said, sounding interested.

Penelope could feel herself panicking. This was not what she’d had in mind for today. She had been so certain that winning Lord Debling’s affections would be easy, after the way he had behaved towards her at the Stowell’s soiree. She had certainly not been prepared to have to deal with a rival in the form of Cressida Cowper.

‘I do. As well,’ Penelope interjected, forcing a smile on her face as she looked hopefully up at Lord Debling. ‘I much prefer the natural world to the...unnatural one. There is nothing I love more than...grass.’

She felt herself deflate as she said the word, but it was too late to take it back. It had been the best thing she had been able to come up with on the spot in that moment – which, considering she was the most successful writer in London, was rather dismaying, to say the least.

Lord Debling raised his eyes upwards as he nodded. ‘What about grass do you so love, Miss Featherington?’ he asked, though his heart was clearly not in the question.

‘Uh...’ Penelope said uneasily, wishing she could restart this day from the beginning so that she would never have to endure this very moment. ‘How it is so...green.’

He voice wobbled on the last word, and she could practically feel Eloise’s wince and see Cressida’s amused smirk without having to even look at them.

‘It is…quite green,’ Lord Debling said in polite agreement.

He offered her a small smile, but it did little to ease the growing knot of dread in her stomach. Penelope could sense the disconnect, the chasm her awkwardness and disingenuous behaviour had carved between them.

She flashed him an awkward smile in return. She had to give it to him; he was certainly very polite and amiable to continue making the effort with this conversation. Most men would have walked away long before now.

Penelope then lowered her eyes, unable to meet Lord Debling’s gaze any longer, the weight of her inadequacy pressing down on her like a suffocating cloak, sharp and unforgiving. She had rehearsed clever remarks and coquettish glances for hours in preparation for seeing Lord Debling today, but now, in his presence, her tongue felt leaden.

Despite the flutter of hope she had felt when Lord Debling had shown interest in her at the Stowell’s soirée, it now seemed remarkably idiotic. She had been so delighted when she’d thought she had finally caught the eye of someone who saw her worth. But now, as she struggled to maintain this charade and the silence between them stretched on, Penelope’s optimism from earlier today quickly faded.

Here she was, fumbling through a conversation with someone who was the ultimate embodiment of her best chance at future happiness. She had thought that she could mould herself into someone Lord Debling would find intriguing, but the façade was cracking under the strain. Her awkwardness was glaringly apparent, and her attempts to mirror his interests felt hollow and false, a flimsy disguise that only highlighted her inadequacies. She was trying to be someone she was not, and it was painfully obvious to everyone in the vicinity that she was failing abysmally.

Her heart sank. It had been laughable of her to believe that she, Penelope Featherington, could successfully navigate the treacherous waters of courtship. For in this moment, Penelope felt utterly and irrevocably lost. And, with a heavy heart, she resigned herself to the sad but undeniable truth that she had been a fool to ever hope that she would succeed.

Chapter Text

Colin continued to watch Penelope across the other side of the hot air balloon platform as the fierce breeze ruffled his hair. He couldn’t tell if her conversation with Lord Debling was going well or not. Obviously, it was not ideal for Penelope that two other ladies were present when she was trying to attract Lord Debling – but Colin couldn’t pretend he was not grateful for them being there. The question was, what did Lord Debling make of it all? And what was it the ladies all saw in him, anyway? What made him so special?

Frowning and working his jaw, Colin turned back to Lords Stanton and Wilding, who were chatting beside him.

‘That Debling fellow,’ Colin said, interrupting them and looking back over at Penelope and Lord Debling. ‘He is a little…odd, is he not?’

The two men followed his gaze thoughtfully.

‘He has singular passions, to be sure,’ Lord Wilding said. ‘But I do not believe there to be anything untoward about him.’

‘Besides his untoward love for vegetables,’ Lord Stanton said, and they both chuckled; Colin forced a smile in response.

‘True. But with the kind of fortune he possesses, he can afford to be as singular as he wants,’ Lord Wilding said.

Colin considered Wilding for a moment, his heart thudding unevenly, and forced a fleeting smile at him.

So, the man Penelope was interested in was titled, kind and ridiculously wealthy. How reassuring.

The main issue was that Lord Debling, as amiable and wealthy as he was, simply did not know Penelope. He did not understand the struggles Penelope had with her family, he did not know how to comfort her when she needed cheering up, he did not know how to make her laugh, he did not share her love of gossip, he did not understand her dreams or her love of books, and he had not been there since childhood and watched her grow into the splendid woman she was today.

How could he possibly be good enough for her? How could anyone?

‘He reminds me of horticulturalists I met in France,’ Lord Wilding went on, though Colin switched off from whatever else he had to say; he didn’t want to hear it.

The gusting wind had become rather distracting now; it was howling loudly and had become rather intense. Indeed, the hot air balloon was rippling and twisting rather violently in the wind as it stood on its platform. The workmen leapt from the rocking gondola as the balloon billowed and strained against its tethers, eager to take flight.

Colin’s mouth opened as he watched, and he frowned in concern. ‘Do you think that is normal?’ he asked the two men beside him.

Stanton and Wilding turned to glance indifferently at the balloon. They did not seem concerned, but even over the sounds of the oncoming gale, Colin could hear the workers urging each other to grab hold of the guide ropes, and a crease appeared between his brows as he watched the balloon sway precariously.

A stack of leaflets then began to scatter and wind chimes started clinking loudly as another huge gust of wind blew through the park. The workmen climbed back on and scrambled within the rocking gondola, their shouts barely audible over the howling wind as they desperately tried to steady the ropes.

‘It’s kicking up a bit, isn’t it?’ someone passing by said.

That’s putting it lightly, Colin thought.

And then, suddenly, chaos erupted.

 One of the tether ropes snapped loose with a sharp crack, slithering ominously through the grass.

‘Whoa! Steady!’ one of the workmen shouted in alarm, but it was too late; the gondola bucked and lurched, causing the other stakes to pull free.

‘Hold!’

‘I can’t! It won’t stop!’

Colin frowned over at the workmen, struggling to steady the balloon. His expression darkened with concern as his eyes then fell on Penelope stood over on the other side of the platform with her back turned, utterly oblivious to what was happening behind her.

‘Jump out!’ one of the panicked workmen yelled, and the two of them leapt free from the unstable gondola.

Colin could see what was going to happen before it did, as if he’d had a premonition. His eyes fell yet again on Penelope over in the distance; they had lost complete control of that hot air balloon, and it was going to hurtle straight towards her.

He knew at once what must be done.

Colin swiftly handed his coat to Lord Stanton and then sprinted towards the hot air balloon without a single thought, his heart racing with adrenaline-fuelled urgency.

Panting, he ran up onto the platform and, with determined resolve, grabbed hold of one of the ropes.

Colin turned back to his friends. ‘Help me! Now!’ he yelled, his voice cutting through the wind and chaos.

Stanton and Wilding ran at once to his aid, with Will Mondrich and Benedict close behind them.

‘Give us a hand!’

‘It’s blowing over!’

‘All men on deck! Come on! Come on!’

 The workmen were shouting frantically as everyone joined together to try and secure the loose ropes. Colin grunted heavily as he tried desperately to pull the balloon back; it was already moving away in the direction of the river – in the direction of Penelope.

Across the platform, Penelope frowned in confusion as she watched Eloise and Cressida glance over her shoulder, gape in disbelief, and then flee. Lord Debling soon followed them.

Confused, Penelope turned around and her lips parted in shock as she took in the scene before her; the hot air balloon had come loose from its ropes, and the workmen were clearly struggling to prevent it from hurtling over in her direction.

But that wasn’t what had Penelope so fixated.

Colin was assisting the workmen – along with a few others, though Penelope barely noticed them – and was pulling mightily on one of the ropes, the sleeves of his shirt rolled back, the wind blowing through his unruly locks.

Penelope knew that all she had to do was run a few steps to the side to get out of the way, but the titillating sight of Colin tugging at that rope kept her rooted to the spot. He looked so rugged and worldly. His arms looked so strong. Her eyes were practically glued to his windswept hair and muscular arms –

‘Heave!’ Colin shouted to all the men, looking both panicked and angry – he had been relieved to see Eloise run to safety, but why on earth had Penelope not moved out of the way?! ‘Heave!’

Colin was pulling desperately, his hands yanking again and again on the rope, the palms of his hands in agony, and yet it was no good – the gondola had already fallen to the edge of the platform and was now gliding towards Penelope.

It was at that point that Penelope’s brain seemed to catch up with what was happening around her, and she blinked rapidly, tearing her gaze away from Colin. In her hypnotised state while she had been admiring the view of her handsome friend, she had failed to notice that the gondola of the hot air balloon was now lurching dangerously close to her.

Oh.

Her face falling in horror, Penelope backed away, numb with shock, and turned to run in the other direction. In her panicked attempt to flee, she stumbled over a nearby picnic blanket and fell to the ground.

‘Pen!’ Colin whispered as he watched, and his eyes widened in horror.

His feet were sliding against the platform as the balloon dragged him and his friends along; they weren’t strong enough. They couldn’t stop it.

‘Miss Featherington!’

But Penelope barely heard Lord Debling as he hurried back over towards her; she scrambled back fearfully along the grass as the gondola rushed towards her. It was coming too fast, and she was too slow and too clumsy – there was no time for her to get out of harm’s way.

On the platform, Colin tried to keep his feet firm on the ground, and he took a deep breath. ‘One, two, three! Heave!’ he shouted with all his might, and they all pulled together, his muscles straining against the weight of the balloon.

Penelope whimpered loudly, petrified, as the gondola swung perilously close to her, and then, out of nowhere, Lord Debling dived to the ground and slid onto the picnic blanket, wrapping an arm protectively around her.

Penelope scrunched up her eyes and turned away from the impending danger, comforted by the knowledge that, if this was it, at least she would feel the comfort of a man’s arms around her – even if they were not Colin’s.

And then the gondola was brought to a stop.

Stunned, Penelope slowly lifted her head, panting; the gondola was dangling just a couple of feet away from her and Lord Debling…and then it began to swing back in the other direction. She watched in a daze as the workmen rushed to sort it and bring the balloon back towards the platform.

She noticed that Colin was still on the platform, his face torn in a grimace with the effort it was taking to hold the rope steady. His trousers and shirt fit him extremely snugly.

No. Focus.

‘Miss Featherington…here, let me help you.’

Penelope blinked rapidly; she had only just remembered that Lord Debling’s arms had been secured around her waist.

Colin had noticed as well; even though he knew that he should be concentrating on keeping a tight hold of the rope, his nostrils flared as he stared at Lord Debling’s hand on Penelope’s waist. He had no right to touch her in such a way; they were not courting, and even if they had been it was most undignified. She was a respectable, unmarried young lady, after all.

‘Hold it steady!’ Lord Hawkins commanded, his voice echoing above the commotion as he approached the scene. ‘Lash it down.’

Colin, his friends and the workmen finally managed to steady the balloon, their urgent shouts drowned out by the relieved sighs of the crowd. With practised precision, the workmen secured the gondola, ensuring it would not sway again.

Hawkins then climbed aboard, issuing a final directive: ‘Let it go!’

Sighing collectively, Colin and the others dropped the ropes and the gondola, with Lord Hawkins standing proudly within, began to lift off the platform.

Lord Debling helped Penelope up to her feet just as the hot air balloon began to rise once more, this time ascending slowly into the sky as if to proclaim victory over the tumultuous events below.

‘And Hawkins is off to the skies!’ the announcer called out enthusiastically through his megaphone.

Gasps of awe and applause erupted from the spectators as the balloon rose higher and Lord Hawkins waved to the cheering crowd below, his voice carried away by the wind but his exhilaration evident.

‘Well done, Bridgerton,’ Will said, patting Colin’s chest.

Colin nodded with a smile, appreciative for his friends’ help, but then was overwhelmed as a mob of young ladies rushed over, looking most enamoured, as if they were not even aware of the spectacle of the striped balloon climbing higher over them.

‘You are a hero!’

‘It was everyone, honestly,’ Colin said, trying to brush it off with an awkward chuckle.

‘You were so strong,’ one of the ladies said, giggling delightedly.

‘Very impressive, Mr. Bridgerton.’

‘That was incredible!’

Colin had always enjoyed receiving praise – and, more recently, attention – but right now he could not care less about the crowds flocking around him; it was only Penelope’s safety, and her thoughts, that mattered to him. He turned to the other side of the platform and immediately locked eyes with Penelope, who was still stood with Lord Debling but barely seemed aware of his presence; she was gazing back at Colin breathlessly.

A flicker of pain crossed Colin’s face as he watched her. He was so confused. He was overcome with relief that Penelope was unharmed, but he was also consumed by a jealousy unlike anything he had ever experienced. He knew he shouldn’t be – attracting a suitor was what Penelope had been aiming for this whole time, after all, and things were evidently going well for her – but Lord Debling had had his hands around her when that gondola had approached.

That should have been me, Colin couldn’t help thinking.

It wasn’t fair. That man was far superior to him in every possible way, so there was no chance of it being an easy playing field…not that such a competition was even on the cards, but still. Colin wanted to wish the two of them the best, he really did, despite the painful ache in his chest. But all he could do instead was swear under his breath about Lord Debling and fantasise about punching him right in the nose for placing his arms around Penelope’s waist.

Across the platform, Penelope’s chest was heaving dramatically as she took in the sight of Colin, the hero of the hour, looking majestic and wonderful…and with his intense gaze on no one but her.

‘Miss Featherington, are you all right?’

Penelope blinked rapidly then turned to Lord Debling, who looked concerned for her, but also slightly embarrassed. She wasn’t surprised; the fact that he had wrapped his arms around her like that in front of the entire ton could have been enough to force the two of them to marry. And yet no one seemed to care. Perhaps everyone had been so distracted and focussed on the men stopping the balloon. Or perhaps anyone who had witnessed that brief moment had found Lord Debling’s actions to ensure Penelope was not crushed as gallant and chivalrous, rather than scandalous. It was strange; Penelope had never been held like that by a man before, and yet she’d barely given it a second thought after the gondola had been brought to a stop.

‘Y-yes, I am well,’ Penelope replied, somewhat flustered. ‘Thank you, my lord. For…for-’

She trailed off uneasily; Colin was still staring at her from a distance, even with all those ladies still trying to grab his attention. It took her breath away.

‘Oh! Ow!’ Cressida then yelled out from nearby, groaning as she clutched at her ankle.

‘What happened?’ Lord Debling asked, rushing towards her in concern.

‘My ankle,’ Cressida said, sounding anguished. ‘I think it was hit by one of the ropes.’

Penelope watched her, half-amused, half-infuriated, as Lord Debling put his arm around her and helped straighten her up. What a gullible, kind soul he was.

‘Here. Let us find you a seat,’ he offered, guiding Cressida along, his hand in hers.

Cressida pretended to wince as they walked along, though she took care to give Penelope a smug smirk when they went past her.

Penelope felt almost like laughing as she turned away, still rather breathless from what had just occurred. A scowl then appeared on her face, and she turned back to Eloise, who looked incredibly embarrassed.

‘A rope hit her ankle? Really?’ Penelope said sceptically.

Eloise closed her eyes and gave a sarcastic nod, grimacing.

A stilted silence followed, and an awkward look passed between the two of them. This would have been the perfect opportunity for them to bond over their dislike of Cressida and how silly and ridiculous they found her. Alas, they could not talk like that with each other anymore.

Penelope swallowed sadly, and turned away. It was too painful to linger here with Eloise when they were not on speaking terms.

She began to walk back towards the tents and marquees, her eyes drifting up vaguely; the impressive hot air balloon was still soaring higher and higher, buffeted by the strong winds, yet maintaining its majestic ascent. Penelope then looked back down – she had to keep an eye on where she was going, after all – when she noticed that Colin was walking right towards her. How he had managed to escape the clutches of all those excitable ladies on the platform was anyone’s guess. Penelope felt rather breathless as she watched him stride over to her with purpose, his locks flowing with the wind dramatically.

‘Pen,’ Colin said when he reached her near one of the tent entrances. ‘Are you well?’

He wondered if Penelope had even cottoned on to just how hopelessly lost he had become, following her around and seeking her out constantly like a desperate little puppy. Probably not.

Penelope’s lips parted as she gazed up at him. His breath was still coming out in gasps, his face flushed with the effort of his recent exertion. The wind had made his hair curlier than ever, and he even had an adorable loose strand dangling on his forehead; Penelope was almost hypnotised by it.

‘I-I am well, thank you,’ Penelope said, her hand reaching up anxiously to check that her hair was still in place. ‘What about you?’

Colin tilted his head at her and cocked an eyebrow. ‘I am not the one that was nearly crushed.’

Penelope opened her mouth indignantly. ‘That is…that is not fair, I was…I was never in any real danger.’

Colin chuckled. ‘Well, you were certainly taking your time getting out of harm’s way,’ he said, almost sternly.

‘I was…distracted,’ Penelope said.

She felt herself blush as her eyes turned to his arms, bare and toned and right there before her. She wondered if he had forgotten to roll his sleeves back up or if he had left them like that on purpose. With Colin nowadays, she could never tell.

She cleared her throat and averted her gaze, rather flustered. ‘That was… very brave of you, what you did. You saved the day,’ she said.

Colin shook his head, though her words filled him with a warm glow. ‘Nonsense, anyone would have done the same,’ he said humbly, and then he frowned at her in concern. ‘A-are you hurt? From when you fell?’

‘I was just being clumsy, I am fine,’ Penelope said, grimacing in embarrassment. ‘Lord Debling helped me.’

Colin nodded, swallowing. ‘Yes, I-I saw. He is…still interested, I take it? Not that he…wouldn’t be, of course,’ he added hastily.

But Penelope looked doubtful. ‘I am not so sure. Cressida Cowper has set her cap at him, and she seems much more versed in his interests than myself.’

‘Miss Cowper?’ Colin said sceptically, raising his eyebrows. ‘Interested in nature and animals? Has the grass turned purple as well?’

Penelope giggled. ‘Colin!’ she said reproachfully, covering her mouth with her hand. ‘You must not say such things!’

Her laughter was infectious, and the way it lit up her face made Colin even more entranced by her.

Penelope’s beam slowly faded when she noticed the way he was watching her, and she looked down, looking confused. Nervous, even.

Colin gulped and reached a hand up to run through his hair agitatedly; Penelope watched, and her eyes widened in horror as she took in the sight of his hand, and then the other one. The palms were red and raw, angry burn marks crisscrossing the skin where he had gripped the ropes so fiercely to stop the balloon gondola from crushing her. Beneath the burn marks, she could just make out the faint scar from where he had accidentally cut himself that day in his study.

‘Oh, Colin,’ she murmured in dismay. ‘Your hands…’

Colin shook his head dismissively at once. ‘It is nothing, they will recover.’

But Penelope ignored him; without thinking, she reached out, her soft hands cradling his wounded ones. Colin winced slightly but did not pull away – her grip was surprisingly strong. Her fingers trembled slightly as they brushed against the tender, blistered skin. In that moment, her touch was the balm he hadn’t known he needed.

Penelope’s heart ached at the sight of the burn marks. ‘You shouldn’t have,’ she murmured, her voice breaking, ‘you could have been seriously hurt.’

Her thumbs were gently caressing his palms as if her touch alone could heal the burns. Colin was mesmerised by the sight. He just wanted to keep holding her hands forever. He could not even hide how happy it made him just to feel her gentle touch, and he did not want to. He wished their fingers could stay intertwined, and that nothing would ever make them let go.

‘So could you, if I hadn’t,’ he said softly, his voice cracking slightly.

Penelope frowned as she looked up at him, curious. What did he mean? Had he run to the balloon’s aid…for her? As she met his gaze, she then realised that this time they were not alone, just the two of them in his study, shielded from the scrutiny of the world. They were very much in public this time, surrounded by the ton, who were now noticing them after last week’s Lady Whistledown paper. So why was it that she had let a mad foolishness consume her into holding Colin’s bare hands in the light of day?

She snatched her hands away abruptly, as if scolded. ‘Forgive me, I…’

‘It’s quite all right,’ Colin said reassuringly, his voice gentle, his hands tingling from where she had touched them.

He swallowed and opened his mouth to say something else when a familiar voice then cut through the air, sharp and unexpected.

‘Colin. I believe Benedict is in need of some rescuing.’

Colin and Penelope jumped and turned in alarm, the moment shattered; Eloise’s sudden presence was like a sudden chill in the warm afternoon.

Colin frowned at his sister, confused. ‘Rescuing?’

Eloise gestured towards the hot air balloon platform; having given up on Colin when he had marched determinedly away from them to speak with Penelope, it seemed that the swarm of ladies had all turned their attentions entirely to Benedict instead. He was completely surrounded.

‘Ah,’ Colin said, sighing.

Penelope glanced between Colin and Eloise, her eyes betraying a flicker of distress. ‘I should go,’ she said quickly, her voice strained. ‘I did not realise the time, my family will be waiting for me by the carriage. Excuse me.’

Before Colin could respond, Penelope had turned and hurried away, her skirts swishing around her ankles. He watched her retreating figure, a hollow ache settling in his chest.

Eloise walked closer towards him, her demeanour cool. ‘I did not mean to chase her off,’ she said, sounding a little disgruntled.

Colin barely heard her. His mind was reeling with a sudden, stark realisation.

Eloise’s arrival had been like a splash of cold water, reminding him of the boundaries he had always observed without even knowing. As long as Eloise had been around, Colin had always unconsciously seen Penelope as an extension of his little sister, someone to protect and care for, but never to desire. It was now glaringly clear that Eloise had always unknowingly been the barrier between him and Penelope. It was why the idea of exploring something more between them had never even occurred to him, and it had taken her and Eloise falling out to make him see Penelope differently. How could he have allowed such a stupid obstacle to interfere in such a way? How many years had he been blinded because of this? How many days, weeks, months had he wasted, only for him to realise just now when time was running out?

Penelope’s mind was in an equal state of turmoil as she walked away from the marquees in search for her mother and sisters.

Despite their rather disastrous conversation earlier before the balloon mishap, she was still set on her intentions to court Lord Debling. He was the only man who had ever shown her genuine interest, after all – although, after the fool she had made of herself today talking about sparrows and grass, she knew her work would be cut out for her in trying to make him see that she was still worth the effort. And yet, no matter how determined she was about Lord Debling, her feelings for Colin still refused to fade. They lurked in the corners of her mind, persistent and unbidden, complicating her every thought.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She needed to focus her mind and remind herself of what was important. Lord Debling was a kind man, attentive and charming. Despite her feelings for Colin, she knew she must pursue a match that promised stability and affection, if not the passion she secretly craved. It was the sensible choice. The safe choice.

Penelope had a strange, and terrifying, feeling that this chapter of her life was on the cusp of a significant change. And yet her heart continued to wage a silent war, the memory of Colin’s touch and his kiss and the intensity in his eyes haunting her, with only one thought lingering in her mind as she walked away from the park: could she ever truly move on from Colin Bridgerton, or was her heart irrevocably his?

Chapter Text

Under the canopy of a star-strewn sky, a crescent moon hung in the dark, casting a silvery glow over the sprawling landscape of Lord Hawkins’ ancestral manor. Tonight’s Innovations Ball was the talk of London, and as carriages proceeded along the winding drive, the manor house itself seemed to glow from within.

The old citadel, its ancient stone walls steeped in history dating back to the 13th century, stood proudly, its towers and battlements outlined against the night sky. Soft light poured from the tall windows, illuminating the lush gardens. In the expansive courtyard, entranced guests were gathering to admire Lord Hawkins’ ingenious contraptions, from an intricate orrery fashioned from wrought metal to elaborate clockwork mechanisms, all of which gleamed under the soft glow of lanterns that hung from branches.

The Bridgertons did not take long to join the rest of the party; their carriage came to a halt before the grand entrance of the Hawkins’ manor, and Benedict and Francesca soon left the carriage, followed by Colin and Eloise.

Colin’s heart was thudding an ominous drumbeat as he straightened his dark tailcoat and stepped out onto the gravel. He felt rather strange and nauseous, as if he were preparing to enter the battlefield. He paused and exhaled deeply, gazing up at the spectacularly-lit building with a brooding expression and a sinking feeling of dread. On the way here, his siblings had been teasing him relentlessly about the onslaught of debutantes he would be met with at tonight’s ball after his heroic actions earlier today, but it wasn’t that that made him apprehensive; it was the thought of seeing Penelope. Penelope…and that blasted Lord Debling.

Eloise placed a gentle hand on his shoulder as she came to stand beside him. ‘Are you still upset with me?’ she asked.

Colin frowned, confused, then realised what she was referring to. So much had happened since the night she had revealed his and Penelope’s secret to Cressida, it felt almost a lifetime ago.

‘No, Eloise. We are well,’ he reassured her. ‘I am simply in my own thoughts. A man can be pensive, can he not?’

He attempted a smile and offered her his arm; she smiled and took it.

They all headed inside, mentally preparing themselves for yet another night of socialising and frivolity. The grand edifice bore a striking resemblance to a French chateau, its intricate stonework impressive to the eye. Upon entering, they were greeted by a series of double-level archways, each exquisitely adorned with gilded embellishments that shimmered in the candlelight.

Musicians were playing loudly as Colin and Eloise followed Benedict and Francesca onto a walkway overlooking the grand ballroom, the crowning jewel of Lord Hawkins’ stately manor and the heart of this evening’s festivities. It really was a magnificent space; the majestic ballroom stretched wide and vast, a cavernous space designed to dazzle and delight, surrounded by soaring archways. Giltwood chandeliers hung from the high, vaulted ceiling, casting a warm, golden light over the stone floor. Marble busts of Roman emperors and ancient gods lined the walls, alongside sculptures and brass globes of various sizes prominently displayed throughout the edges of the ballroom. Tall windows draped with rich sheer curtains, billowing gently with the evening breeze, softened the grandiose architecture and offered glimpses of the starlit night outside. Candelabras, perched on indigo stone pedestals, cast a warm, flickering glow along the room's perimeter, the soft light dancing off the rich navy-and-gold drapery. The air was alive with excitement as elegantly-dressed guests mingled and marvelled at the wonders on display.

The Bridgertons siblings descended a set of stairs leading to the main level. Several young ladies soon appeared on the steps to approach the famous heroes of the balloon launch event today; Benedict quickly ducked and hurried Francesca along to avoid them, but Colin was less lucky. An amused Eloise left him as soon as the ladies accosted him.

‘Mr. Bridgerton,’ one of the ladies greeted, and Colin forced a smile as they gazed adoringly up at him. ‘I am in awe of your heroism.’

‘Are you just as heroic on the dance floor?’ Miss Hartigan asked flirtatiously.

The three ladies exchanged a glance and erupted into giggles.

Colin smiled back at them, though it strained his face to do so, and turned to look out over the crowd, searching desperately for a sign of a certain redhead. It was rather strange; over the past few social seasons, Colin could almost always be guaranteed to be seen dancing with some young lady at every ball…and yet this season he hadn’t taken to the floor, not once. Even now, when he was being followed around by a herd of pretty, eligible debutantes itching to be on the dance floor, he did not wish to. He had eyes for nothing and no one but –

Penelope.

There she was. Colin’s lips parted in awe as he watched her follow her mother, sisters and brothers-in-law into the ballroom down below. She was wearing a pale embroidered gown, the colour somewhere between a pale blue and silver, with delicately puffed sleeves, and her auburn waves were pinned up. She looked breathtaking.

‘Mr. Bridgerton?’

Colin blinked and turned around; the three debutantes were looking at him expectantly, clearly waiting for a response. ‘I-I am sorry, what did you say?’ he asked, clearing his throat.

‘We were saying how splendid the music is tonight,’ Miss Kenworthy said.

‘Ah, yes,’ Colin said, glancing back to Penelope distractedly. ‘Very splendid indeed.’

‘Very good music to dance to, in fact,’ Miss Kenworthy went on, rather pointedly.

‘Quite,’ Colin agreed.

The ladies giggled excessively again, but their faces fell when they realised that Colin was still refusing to take the bait. Colin nodded awkwardly at them and forced a smile, inwardly cursing himself and this ball. This was going to be a very painful evening to get through.

On the lower level, the Featheringtons moved through the bustling ballroom, Penelope walking with Portia behind her elder sisters and their husbands.

‘Thankfully, everyone will now be talking about Mr. Bridgerton and the balloon, and not Mr. Bridgerton and you,’ Portia was saying, clearly very satisfied by this turn of events.

Penelope kept her gaze fixed ahead as they walked on. ‘Yes, Mama,’ she said, unsmiling.

Their host, Lord Hawkins, resplendent in a richly embroidered tailcoat and cravat, was moving among his guests with the animated energy of a man wholly in his element. His eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he explained the workings of the marvels on display. He even approached the Featheringtons and tried to present Portia with a demonstration of lamp – his attempt was not successful.  Portia and Penelope then parted ways, finding other areas of the ballroom to find entertainment away from one another.

Penelope had only made it a few feet away when she caught sight of Colin descending the steps into the ballroom, being followed by a gaggle of hopeful young ladies, and let out an inaudible gasp at the sight of him. Colin stood out from all the other gentlemen in attendance tonight; he was dressed in very dark clothes – even his cravat was a dark navy, almost black – and his collar wasn’t buttoned up tightly, so his neck was slightly exposed. His attire was not as rigid or formal as it ought to be for a noble gentleman of the ton attending a ball. She wondered if he had chosen such a dark, brooding, risky look specifically to rebel against the status quo, or perhaps to attract more women; if he had, then it was certainly working, for Penelope was not the only one who could not keep her eyes off him.

She swallowed nervously as she turned around, trying to refocus.

Forget about Colin. Lord Debling. Lord Debling.

Penelope kept repeating his name in her head, trying to drill it into her, as if that would help her push all thoughts of Colin completely from her mind. She began a solitary walk around the periphery of the ballroom, taking in the sights. An array of innovative devices was arranged on pedestals and tables. One corner featured a collection of intricate automata, their delicate movements fascinating onlookers. Another display contained an array of optical devices such as telescopes and magnifying devices, inviting guests to peer into the mysteries of the night sky and the natural world.

Penelope knew that she would no doubt have been interested in Lord Hawkins’ fascinating contraptions if it were any other night, but for some reason right now she could not find the energy to examine everything on display, and so she simply found herself stood alone toying with the empty dance card tied around her wrist. She dropped her arms rather bitterly as she surveyed the crowd. She kept thinking to herself that one of these days surely someone – someone who was not an old childhood friend taking pity on her – would ask her to dance. Unfortunately, it seemed that was not to be the case, no matter how nice she looked or how hard she tried to do better. Even without her self-deprecating Lady Whistledown issue or embarrassing hot air balloon mishaps, Penelope would always be the sad little wallflower in everyone’s eyes.

Well, perhaps not everyone.

Penelope had just spotted Lord Debling stood by one of the refreshments tables, his back to her. Squaring her shoulders, Penelope took a deep breath and started to move towards him.

It was only then when she glanced to her right and saw Cressida stood on the other side of the dance floor with her odious mother, both of them also eyeing Lord Debling beadily. Cressida had become infamous for her outlandishly ridiculous outfits, particularly this latest season, but tonight’s ensemble was something else entirely, with her laughably huge sleeves and bizarre hairstyle. It was as if she was using her dress and hair as armour – though whether it was battle armour or protective armour, Penelope could not decide.

Penelope and Cressida locked eyes, then looked back at Lord Debling.

Oh, no you don’t.

Cressida immediately began to stride towards Lord Debling; scowling irritably, Penelope followed suit, marching with determination in parallel to her, their eyes darting about anxiously as they got closer and closer –

And then Lord Debling turned in Cressida’s direction.

Penelope ground to a halt and slowly pivoted away as Cressida flashed Lord Debling a dazzling smile.

‘Lord Debling,’ Cressida said brightly, while Penelope glared over at her, ‘I must thank you again for saving me in my time of need.’

‘You are most welcome, Miss Cowper,’ Lord Debling said, bowing his head politely at her. ‘Are you well now?’

‘My ankle hurts a great deal,’ Cressida said, and she threw a smug grin over in Penelope’s direction before adding, ‘But I can certainly still dance on it.’

Penelope raised her eyes to the ceiling and exhaled deeply. She was trying not to be consumed by bitterness, but she was finding it increasingly difficult as this day went on. She had woken up this morning so very hopeful and excited. It was typical that it was Cressida Cowper, of all people, who would steal away her one chance at – well, if not a life of happiness, at least a life of contentment and security.

It seemed that tonight she would have to go back to being the wallflower, hovering awkwardly in the corner waiting for an invitation to dance that would never come. A sorry state of affairs, indeed.

***

Colin wasn’t sure how much time had passed since first arriving at the ball. In some ways it felt like hours, and yet he knew deep down it couldn’t have been that long at all. Why was it dragging so painfully slowly? Why was he having the most miserable time out of everyone in this extraordinary building?

He remained on the sidelines – as much as he was able to, given that he kept being accosted by ladies every five minutes who couldn’t seem to take the hint that he wanted to be left alone – and felt his face fall sadly as he watched people take to the dance floor. Most of the debutantes looked more desperate than hopeful as they hung on the arm of their prospective suitors. It was all so superficial, Colin realised. The young ladies would no doubt rush into agreeing to marry any wealthy and titled gentleman here tonight who showed a bit of interest, regardless of their personal compatibility or affection, because that was simply what was expected of them, and they did not want to become destitute, a disappointment to their families, or, in their eyes, the worst fate of all: a spinster. It really was a dismal world they lived in. No wonder the Mondriches were so baffled by the rules of good society; there was hardly anything remotely good about it at all.

Before Colin knew it, he was soon being swarmed yet again by half a dozen young, pretty ladies, fluttering their lashes, beaming away and excitedly gushing about his brave actions at the balloon event today. He wished they would go away. No doubt a month ago he would have enjoyed all the flattery and attention, but right now Colin couldn’t care less, and there was only one lady in this world whose attention and company he craved. 

Not too far away, Penelope found herself stood awkwardly in the middle of the ballroom. To her right, Colin was entertaining a group of enthralled young ladies, much to her resentment. To her left, Cressida was still somehow engaged in a conversation with Lord Debling and offering him a simpering smile.

Penelope’s mood had never been sourer as she tore her eyes away from Lord Debling and Cressida, and she exhaled sharply. It seemed that her brief hopes of striking up a courtship with Lord Debling were well and truly at an end.

She turned instinctively in Colin’s direction, curious to hear what he and the debutantes were discussing – surely they could not still be on about that stupid balloon?

‘Indeed, Mr. Bridgerton, wherever did you find such courage?’ Miss Kenworthy was saying, waving her fan.

Colin tilted his head humbly. ‘Well, I believe that...’

But he faltered as he locked eyes with Penelope across the ballroom, and his lips parted. She was stood there alone gazing at him, her hair in its curly updo, her dress a sparkling masterpiece, her face serene. He had never appreciated, or perhaps even realised, just how stunningly beautiful she was. He had also never been more aware of his heartbeat than in this very moment.

Penelope gazed back at Colin, stunned; there were several eager ladies circling him waiting for him to continue speaking, and yet his eyes were only on her.

What is happening?

Her heart began to thud loudly as they continued to gaze at each other across the dance floor.

Colin recovered himself after a moment. ‘Um...courage is within us all,’ he went on, looking back at his admirers. ‘As long as we are honest with ourselves and about our feelings…it is possible to do anything.’

He spoke those last six words with his eyes fixed directly at Penelope. He knew she could hear him. And he knew that she could no doubt see the intense yearning in his eyes as he gazed across at her. He wondered if she realised that the reason he had been able to have such so-called courage to stop that hot air balloon today was simply because Penelope had been in harm’s way, and he would do anything for her. He suspected not.

Penelope lowered her eyes as she let Colin’s words resonate with her.

He was right; she needed to be honest with herself. She had been dreaming about Colin and stuck on that page of her story for so long…but Colin would never see her as more than a friend, so it was time to end that now and face reality. She needed to be practical, and she needed to stop putting on an act.

With a smallest hint of a nod, Penelope then slowly turned away in Lord Debling’s direction.

Courage is within us all. As long as we are honest with ourselves.

She was almost certain that she had lost Lord Debling to Cressida Cowper now. But what was the point in accepting defeat if she didn’t even try to make him see that she was worth giving another chance?

So, Penelope began to slowly move towards Lord Debling.

Colin watched, rather shaken, as she walked away from him, and his brow furrowed. Penelope always turned towards him, not away from him.

He opened his mouth cluelessly for a moment, having completely lost track of what he had been saying to the debutantes surrounding him. ‘Um...pardon me, ladies,’ he said, rather unsteadily, and he moved away from them with a somewhat stony expression.

It could not be denied that he’d had a few brief romantic – or rather, sexual – entanglements with a few women since he had left Mayfair for his travels at the end of last season. Those encounters had been fun, to be sure, but a diversion, an escape, a desperate attempt to be someone else. And now he did not wish to speak, let alone flirt, with these ladies desperate for his attention now, for his defences had been utterly broken. He did not even know where he was or who he was talking to, for he was so besotted and distracted…all because of Penelope. But now he was having to watch her turn her back on him and walk in the direction of another man. What if she never looked or turned back to him again?

At the other end of the ballroom, Lord Debling had at last stepped away from Cressida and was moving towards the drinks table; Penelope followed him, nervous but determined.

‘Lord Debling,’ she greeted, and she gave a curtsy.

Lord Debling turned to her in surprise as he picked up two glasses of lemonade. ‘Miss Featherington,’ he said, nodding politely. ‘Any more encounters with wayward balloons?’

Penelope chuckled softly. ‘Not at present.’

He smiled and then gestured back towards Cressida, waiting for him on the other side of the ballroom. ‘If you will excuse me, I am fetching Miss Cowper a lemonade.’

He had begun to move off, but Penelope inhaled sharply and stopped him.

‘Lord Debling,’ she said, a hint of urgency to her voice, and Lord Debling turned back to her, intrigued. ‘I am afraid I have not been honest with you.’

‘Pardon me?’

‘About... grass. I do not love it,’ Penelope admitted, a slight grimace on her face. ‘I-I do not hate it, but I much prefer being indoors.’

‘I see,’ Lord Debling said, raising his eyebrows.

Penelope regarded him hopefully.

‘Pen, living for the estimation of others is a trap. Once you break free, the world…opens up.’

It was time to be herself, to be honest. What did she have to lose?

‘The person I was earlier today...I was pretending to be someone I am not. And I do not wish to do that anymore,’ Penelope said, while Lord Debling listened attentively. ‘The person that I am, I am…someone who enjoys society and gossip, even if I do occasionally hide at a soirée. I am someone who enjoys a good book more than exploring the natural world, someone...who does enjoy watching birds, but specifically from the windowsill, I am...someone who is over-explaining themselves at the moment.’

She winced and looked down. She had taken it too far. She had let the words pour out from her without really thinking.

After a slight pause, Lord Debling then spoke. ‘How many yous are there, exactly?’ he asked, a kind smile on his face. ‘And where do you hide them all?’

Penelope smiled at him, relieved by his reaction. ‘It does not…bother you that I…do not wish to spend my time exploring the wilds of nature?’

‘Heavens, no,’ Lord Debling said warmly. ‘If I only ever talked about nature, my dinner party invitations would cease altogether.’

Penelope chuckled. He really was such a very nice man.

‘I do not wish to court someone exactly like myself. I want to be with someone who knows who they are and embraces their own…peculiarity, as I do,’ Lord Debling said, his expression tender. ‘As I believe you do as well.’

Penelope smiled up at him, deeply touched, and a little amazed. Colin had been right; all she’d had to do was be honest.

Lord Debling then offered her one of the glasses of lemonade in his hand. Penelope knew that a part of her ought to feel guilty – this glass had originally been intended for Cressida, after all – but she could not bring herself to. It had been a trying day, and finally she had made some progress. A step in the right direction towards a brighter future. She could not deny herself celebrating that.

So, Penelope accepted the glass of lemonade from him, and the two of them kept their eyes on one another as they drank.

When she lowered her lips, a sweet smile spread on her lips and she chuckled softly, relieved and a little giddy.

Lord Debling gave her a rather endearing smile. ‘You seem like…a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, Miss Featherington,’ he said softly.

‘In truth, it feels that way,’ Penelope admitted, and she exhaled. ‘For so long I thought I had to act a certain way to ever be taken seriously as a…’ She trailed off, not quite knowing how to finish the sentence.

‘As a marital prospect?’ Lord Debling finished gently for her.

Penelope’s eyes widened; she hadn’t expected him to use those words. ‘I-I…well, yes, I suppose,’ she said, blushing. ‘Yes.’

‘Well,’ Lord Debling said, tipping his glass in her direction, ‘I am glad that you now know that is not the case.’

Penelope gazed at him open-mouthed for a moment, then found herself giggling. What a pleasantly bizarre turn of events this night was turning out to be.

Lord Debling smiled fondly at her. ‘Miss Featherington, now we are being more open towards one another…I was wondering if you would do me the honour of a dance this evening?’ he asked.

Penelope swallowed and she raised her eyebrows at him, bewildered. ‘A-a dance? You would like to dance with me?’

‘Is that so hard to believe?’ Lord Debling said, amused.

‘W-well yes, I…I have never…’ Penelope said, flustered, and she closed her eyes and forced a nod, quickly pulling herself together. ‘Yes, I would very much like to dance with you, my lord.’

Lord Debling smiled. ‘May I?’ he said.

It took Penelope a moment to realise that he was indicating the dance card fixed to her wrist. ‘O-oh, of course,’ she said, and she held it out to him, feeling a little dazed.

She had never had someone sign her dance card before – the only man she had ever danced with at balls had been Colin and he had never bothered with the dance card; he had always just assumed, quite rightly, that she would say yes. In fact, she could not recall if he had ever even asked her before – he had always simply taken her hands and led her right onto the dance floor. But this…having a gentleman sign his name on one’s dance card, explicitly expressing his interest…it really was the most thrilling feeling. And in that moment Penelope realised that she never wanted this feeling, or indeed this night, to ever end.

***

Across the other side of the ballroom, Colin stood on his own, his gaze fixed on Penelope and Lord Debling as they conversed. His heart sank; he had thought that Lord Debling had turned his attentions towards Cressida Cowper, but Penelope seemed to have re-engaged him entirely. Colin knew he only had himself to blame for that. If he had not been so encouraging and helped her gain her self-confidence…but no, he couldn’t regret that or be so selfish to even think it. He wanted Penelope to be happy, he truly did. And he was glad to see her no longer hiding her true, wonderful self from the word. She had stepped out of the shadows and was shining brighter than ever before, and he couldn’t be prouder. But he also couldn’t be sadder.

‘Colin,’ then came a voice, and he turned to see his mother approaching him. ‘Have you seen Francesca?’

‘I have not,’ Colin replied heavily, scowling as he watched Penelope and Lord Debling.

He then paused and turned to face Violet beside him, surveying the ballroom. He did not wish to unburden himself or make her think him rather pathetic by speaking of his torment. But, when it came to matters of the heart, his beloved mother was the only one he really felt comfortable talking to.

‘May I ask you a question, Mother?’ he said.

Violet smiled at him. ‘Anything, dearest.’

‘As you…consider suitable matches for Francesca, what do you hope she finds?’ he asked.

Violet looked rather surprised; she obviously hadn’t been expecting him to ask anything like that. ‘I...wish for Francesca the same thing I wanted for myself,’ she said with a smile. ‘For Anthony, for Daphne. Passion…excitement…a love that is thrilling.’

Colin considered her words for a moment; her words rang true for what he was now feeling for Penelope, but it didn’t make sense, for they did not align with what he knew of what it meant to be friends as well. None of it made any sense.

‘But I thought you believed the best foundation for great love was friendship,’ he said, confused.

‘Indeed, I do. It is how your father and I began,’ Violet said, nodding. ‘But it is…rare to begin as friends and for both parties to then feel more.’

Colin nodded thoughtfully. He could certainly imagine it being a rare thing, indeed. Rare, and terrifying. But also rather wonderful.

‘Mm. And how did you and Father know it was reciprocated?’ he asked.

It was something he had always been curious about, and something he now wished to know more than anything. How could he tell if this was not a temporary situation like with Marina, if this was what it truly was to feel more for someone? How could he tell if Penelope reciprocated his feelings, so that he did not embarrass himself?

Violet hesitated for a moment, clearly lost in memories. ‘Because he gathered the courage to ask,’ she said, a tender expression falling on her face.

Colin gave a thoughtful nod. How he wished he could speak to his father about how he had managed to pluck up that courage. There was no prospect more terrifying to Colin than doing that.

His gaze then drifted back toward Penelope, wearing a radiant smile as Lord Debling chatted with her. He should be happy for her. They looked so good together, and she looked so at ease and content. This was all she had wanted, all they been working for since the beginning of this season.

Colin then looked down, blissfully unaware that Violet had followed his gaze. ‘Uh...well...’ he said, forcing a smile at his mother. ‘I hope if Francesca finds it, she is brave enough to ask the question.’

Violet nodded slowly and gave him a small, knowing smile. ‘I hope she is as well,’ she said softly.

She placed her hand on Colin’s arm before drifting away, her eyes falling on Penelope as she went.

Colin worked his jaw as he turned back to face Penelope, unable to help himself.

‘He had the courage to ask.’

Colin had always thought that, to be a Bridgerton man, he had to be like his older brothers, charming everyone and raking around town. But the truth was, all he really needed to live up to the family name was to be like his father, who had worn his heart on his sleeve and gathered the courage to tell his best friend that he had fallen in love with her. Colin wanted to be like his father, more than anything. But he wasn’t as brave as he had been. Or was he?

There was only one way to find out.

Lord Debling had just moved away; now was his chance. Colin began to walk across the ballroom towards Penelope with purpose, his eyes fixed on no one but her as she stepped away from the refreshments table.

He did not know when or how he had come to fall for Penelope, but he couldn’t ignore it or keep silent, not anymore. She might not feel the same way, Colin knew that, but this was simply what he had to do. It was time to know whether there was a chance for this, or if he should let her go.

Penelope looked up at him with pleasant surprise when he reached her. ‘Colin,’ she greeted, smiling.

Her heart lifted at the sight of him; she couldn’t wait to tell him that Lord Debling had asked her for a dance.

Colin tried to smile back at her, but he found he could not. He was filled with a yearning unlike anything he had ever known, or even thought possible.

‘Finally free from your admirers, I-’

But Penelope broke off, stunned by the expression on his face. He was not saying anything. He was merely fixing her with a piercing stare as he took a step forward, as if building himself up to say something.

Colin’s words got stuck in his throat as he gazed down into her stunning blue eyes. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t think. He could only feel.

Penelope’s smile faded as she tried to take in his expression and understand the strange aura emanating from him. ‘Are you well?’ she asked, an almost fearful tone to her voice.

Colin then took another step forward, and was relieved to hear himself finally speak. ‘There is a question…I have been…needing to ask you,’ he said.

He was towering over her, leaning slightly forwards, his mouth open. He wanted to tell her that he had blind before, that everything had changed, that everything wrong with the world now seemed right, because all this time he had been waiting for her without even knowing it. He wanted to ask if she could feel it too, if she could sense more between them, if she would be willing to give them a chance.

But he could not.

He was utterly tongue-tied, just from the sight of her gazing up at him. If he spoke aloud how he really felt, then there was no turning back, no undoing any damage he could cause to their friendship. What if she did not feel the same way? If she didn’t, then he might lose her friendship, and that was all he had now. Was the risk worth it?

Colin’s gaze then drifted to her lips, so full and moist. He was met with a primitive urge to take her in his arms there and then and kiss her. He did not care that they were in the middle of a ballroom, with dozens of people surrounding them. 

Penelope’s bottom lip trembled at the sight of his intense expression. The way he was looking at her was positively alarming. He looked almost…hungry. Animalistic, even. She couldn’t make sense of the way he was behaving, or the strong tension that filled the air between them, but she did know that if anyone in this ballroom were to notice it, then the gossipmongers of the ton would do their worst.

‘Colin,’ Penelope murmured anxiously.

She was beginning to panic; he was stood far too close, and he seemed to have forgotten they were in public. It would not look right to anyone watching, and yet he did not seem to care. Clearly, whatever he needed to ask her was important, but what could it be? Or was she imagining things?

She so dearly wished that he wouldn’t look at her like that. It made the line she had drawn between them in her mind very blurred, and it was difficult enough forcing her brain to accept that they were just friends and nothing more. It was so very confusing. Penelope did not wish to regret trying to move on and finding a suitor, but if he kept staring at her eyes and lips so intensely like that, then she feared she might, for she would always be weak for Colin’s gaze, smouldering or otherwise.

Why was he making this hard for her? What was he doing?

Colin opened his mouth wider, as if to say something, his gaze still darting between her eyes and lips, his face ever so slightly leaning further down. ‘I…’ he began.

The way she had spoken his name just now had reminded him of the Penelope from his dreams, murmuring his name softly in his ear. But he did not want the Penelope from his dreams. He wanted the real Penelope, stood here right before him, waiting desperately for him to say something…and yet he still could not form words, for he could barely breathe. She was stealing all his air, she was making his head spin, she was consuming every inch of him, and he had lost all control. 

But then his brain caught up with what she had said when he had first approached her.

‘Finally free from your admirers.’

Colin could feel his newly-gained courage begin to deflate, only to be instantly replaced by crippling self-doubt. Did her words mean that Penelope did not count herself among his admirers? Did she not see him the way the other ladies saw him? Did she only consider him in a platonic sense? But then surely, if that were the case, she would not have asked him to kiss her that night? Or what if that kiss truly had meant nothing to her and she had not given it a single thought ever since it had happened? What if she -?

‘Miss Featherington.’

Penelope jumped and Colin flinched simultaneously as she turned quickly around; Lord Debling had approached, without either of them noticing.

They both looked at him in shock, their hearts pounding, their expressions almost vacant.

Lord Debling smiled warmly at Penelope. ‘I believe it is time for our dance,’ he said.

Colin felt something inside him splinter at the words. Their dance? Surely not? Penelope only ever danced with him. If Penelope were to dance with another man – and an eligible lord at that – then people would notice, and people would assume they were courting. Did she truly want that?

Lord Debling’s smile was fixed on his face as his eyes flicked toward Colin, briefly appraising him, but he looked unconcerned.

Colin turned back to Penelope, in despair. What could he possibly say or do now? He had lost his courage for just a second too long, and now it was too late.

Penelope knew that she ought to respond to Lord Debling straight away – he was waiting patiently, after all, and his hand was already outstretched – but she couldn’t just ignore that bizarre moment that had just passed between her and Colin. She turned back to him and cast a searching look over Colin’s serious face, her eyes wide as they darted back and forth, trying desperately to read whatever was going on in that mysterious mind of his.

For one mad moment before Lord Debling had arrived, she had thought that Colin had been thinking about kissing her. She knew now that such an idea was ridiculous, but she still couldn’t help a part of her wishing, hoping, praying that he would say what she had wanted to hear for so long, that he would say something to stop her from dancing with Lord Debling, that he would say…well, anything. But he seemed to have frozen.

Colin looked almost pained as he shuffled on his feet, his mouth opening and closing as his mind worked furiously to find some way to rescue this. But he couldn’t. He simply stood there, looking at her. She looked visibly shaken, and even perhaps a little infuriated. He couldn’t blame her.

A small frown appeared on Penelope’s face as she continued to gaze up at him. What had she been thinking? She had been burned like this before; at the end of last season’s ball at her house, she had thought that Colin had been about to initiate something more between them when he had taken her hand in the middle of the ballroom and led her alone to a private room, but then that had turned out to be nothing and he had later trampled all over that with his derogatory comments to Lord Fife. Colin had misled her more than once, and her blindness when it came to him led to poor judgement.

Well, she could not allow that anymore.

Penelope gave a minuscule shake of her head. She hated herself for still having a slither of hope for the two of them. She must have been imagining it, whatever that look in Colin’s eyes had been. She needed to accept that it was in her head, that that kiss had been a one-time thing, that he would never reciprocate her feelings. She was done dreaming of a future with Colin, and she was done waiting for him. She needed to let go and move on – she would be happier that way, surely – and Lord Debling was giving her that chance, right now.

Penelope dropped her gaze, a look of resignation falling on her face, and then turned back to Lord Debling.

‘Of course, my lord,’ Penelope said to him, trying to keep her voice steady.

In what felt like the most pivotal decision of her life thus far, Penelope then rested her dainty, gloved hand in Lord Debling’s.

Colin watched.

And he felt his heart break in two.

Chapter Text

Colin was in a daze. He felt as if his soul had left his body and he was watching everything unfold from above. He didn’t want to believe what was happening.

‘Mr. Bridgerton,’ Lord Debling said in acknowledgement, but Colin barely heard him; his eyes were fixed on Penelope’s hand placed in Lord Debling’s.

It was her first ever dance of this season…and she had taken Debling’s hand. Not Colin’s. He doubted she would ever dance with him again now…and that realisation felt like his chest was suddenly being attacked by scorching hot knives. He was losing her – and he was also losing himself in the process.

Colin then looked up and forced a nod, his jaw clenching, as Lord Debling escorted Penelope away.

Penelope felt rather stunned as she and Lord Debling walked onto the dance floor – partly by the fact that she was about to dance with one of the most eligible lords of this season in front of the entire ton, and partly by that confounding moment with Colin.

Stop it. Focus.

She inhaled sharply; she would not let Colin’s bizarre behaviour interfere with things, and she was proud of herself for having had the strength to walk away from him like that with Lord Debling, finally certain about what she wanted for her future. Perhaps the way Colin had broken her heart with his comments at the end of last season’s ball had changed her somehow and stiffened her resolve. Yes, it had taken her some time, but look at where she was now – finally moving on, more sure of herself than ever before, with another gentleman leading her out on to the dance floor. She was different to the girl Colin had left crying over him for nights on end, and if Colin did not want to see or accept her dancing with Lord Debling, for whatever reason, then he was more than welcome to simply turn and walk away.

Penelope could feel the shocked, scrutinising gazes of the mamas and debutantes of the ton watching her from the periphery of the ballroom as she stood before Lord Debling, but she was determined to not let them ruin this moment for her. All she had to do was focus on Lord Debling and the dance steps, and she would be fine. Absolutely fine.

The music started, and Penelope and Lord Debling’s dance began with graceful synchronisation as they moved in and out, toward and away from one another, like a delicate ballet, their eyes fixed only on each other.

Across the room, Colin hovered to the side, completely alone, not knowing what on earth to do with himself. He could barely register anything, not even his mother eyeing him sympathetically from nearby. His gaze was locked entirely on the dancing pair, and his heart clenched with a longing he couldn’t suppress as he watched Penelope glide effortlessly around Lord Debling.

This was the very first time Penelope had danced with someone other than him, and the sight was unbearable. Colin had always been her dance partner, always the one who twirled her around these gilded halls. Seeing her now, so effortlessly content in the arms of another, filled him with a devastation he could scarcely fathom.

Hadn’t Marina said it all along?

‘If you simply opened your eyes to what is in front of you, then you might see there are those in your life you already make happy. You have…Penelope.’

Yes, he’d had Penelope. But now he was not so sure – and he was the one to blame for letting her drift away.

He watched as she twirled away from Lord Debling, her gown flowing out like a silvery cloud, only to return to his embrace with a smile that lit up her entire face.

She moved gracefully, as if she had been dancing with gentlemen left, right and centre all season, and she looked exquisite – the most exquisite of all the ladies on the dance floor, in fact. And, perhaps most painfully of all, she looked happy. She was smiling in Lord Debling’s arms. Colin could only just about tolerate seeing her dance with someone else, but to see her beaming up at Lord Debling, with a smile that Colin had once thought she never bestowed upon anyone else? It was torture.

Colin had never been more envious of any other man. He clenched his fists, wanting desperately to march across the ballroom, to pull her away and proclaim to everyone that Penelope Featherington belonged to him. But he remained rooted to the spot, paralysed by the cowardice that had plagued him for weeks.

The sight of Lord Debling’s hand resting lightly on Penelope’s waist as they danced made Colin’s jaw tighten involuntarily. Unable to bear the sight, he looked away, the pain in his chest a dull ache. He had let fear keep him silent, too afraid to ask if she felt the same, too timid to fight for her, too hesitant to lay his feelings bare. And now, it seemed, Penelope had found someone who made her happy, someone who could offer her everything she deserved and wanted. He had missed his chance, he was losing her to a man who might soon become her husband…and it was entirely his own fault.

The music swelled, and Penelope and Lord Debling continued to twirl together in each other’s arms in perfect harmony. Penelope’s every movement was a vision of grace, her gown sweeping around her as she spun. She tried to concentrate on the steps of the dance, for she could feel everyone watching her – the sad, desperate, unlucky spinster who was never asked to dance. She also tried to keep a smile on her face for Lord Debling’s sake, though it was hard when she could feel Colin’s eyes on them from the side of the ballroom. She was overwhelmed; this was everything she had been wanting for such a long time. It was a magical moment, really. And yet something was still not quite right. She could feel it.

Colin’s chest tightened as he continued to watch them, enraptured yet helpless, and tried desperately to maintain his mask of composure. He wasn’t altogether surprised when he then felt tears building in his eyes, but the all-consuming jealousy that gnawed at him prevented him from tearing his gaze away.

He was so crushed, so hopeless, so scared, that it felt as though he might collapse under the weight of his own despair. He felt like he had never known anything at all, about life or about himself, until now. He had been such a fool for taking Penelope for granted all this time. How much time had he wasted? How many weeks, months, years, had gone by where he had not realised or shown how much he cared for her?

Colin was in hell, a silent witness to his own heartbreak, as Penelope slipped further away with every step she took in another man’s arms. She had always been right there in front of him, the answer to everything he had been looking for.

And now it was too late for him to do anything about it.

***

When the dance ended, Penelope felt as if she were in someone else’s body, living someone else’s life, for surely this could not be happening to her in reality, after so many disastrous attempts at striving for a successful encounter, perhaps even courtship, with a decent gentleman?

Her cheeks burned as she stepped away from Lord Debling, her heart still fluttering from the dance. She felt overwhelmed, a giddy smile tugging at her lips, her senses alive from the music and the gentle but firm pressure of Lord Debling’s hands as he had guided her through the steps.

Lord Debling smiled warmly at her as they moved away from the dance floor along with the others. ‘Thank you very much for the dance, Miss Featherington. Perhaps I should fetch us some refreshments?’ he offered.

‘Th-that would be most agreeable, my lord, thank you,’ Penelope said, feeling rather breathless, and she beamed up at him.

She watched him walk away towards the refreshments table at the other end of the ballroom, and swallowed.

The grand chandelier above the ballroom sparkled brilliantly, casting a myriad of lights that seemed to dance along with Penelope’s still-spinning thoughts. Lord Debling, with his easy smile and courteous manner, had been the perfect partner. Yet, as the final notes of the waltz had faded into the chatter of the crowd, Penelope had felt a rush of emotions she could scarcely comprehend. Something still did not feel right.

As she tried to steady her breath, Penelope’s eyes wandered across the room, searching for a familiar face in the sea of attendees. 

Her gaze landed on Colin, still stood alone under one of the arches where she had left him before the dance.

Colin’s eyes were fixed on her, glistening with an emotion she couldn’t quite place. His usually bright demeanour was clouded with something that made her heart give an uneasy jolt. His lips were pressed into a thin line, and as their eyes met, he quickly looked away, his expression devastated.

A pang of confusion struck her. What could possibly have caused such a look from Colin?

Before she could make sense of it, or muster the courage to approach him, an interruption arrived in the form of Lady Danbury.

‘Miss Featherington,’ she said, her authoritative voice rich with approval. ‘I must say, what a splendid sight to see you on the dance floor, and with such a distinguished gentleman as Lord Debling, no less! Quite the eligible match, wouldn’t you agree?’

Penelope blushed, and she found herself at a loss for words. ‘I – th-thank you, Lady Danbury,’ she stammered, curtsying slightly. ‘Lord Debling is very kind.’

The elder lady’s eyes twinkled with genuine delight. ‘Kind, and even more taken with you, if my eyes do not deceive me,’ Lady Danbury said, her lips twitching playfully. ‘It does my heart good to see you on the dance floor. You were just marvellous.’

Penelope chuckled softly but couldn’t help glancing once more toward Colin. He had now turned away, his expression unreadable.

She forced a smile back at Lady Danbury. ‘You are too kind, Lady Danbury,’ she said. ‘It is... all quite overwhelming, I have to admit.’

‘Nonsense, my dear,’ Lady Danbury replied, giving her cane a sharp tap. ‘It is exactly as it should be. And look – they shall all be taking you seriously now. And about time, too.’

She was indicating the people lining the ballroom around them; Penelope looked as well, and saw to her surprise that the debutantes and mamas were no longer eyeing her with scornful sneers. Instead, they were looking at her with something that almost looked like respect.

A small, nervous smile formed on Penelope’s lips. This night was only getting better and better; she should be feeling on top of the world right now. So why wasn’t she?

As if in answer, her eyes fell instinctively back in the direction of Colin. Lady Danbury’s gaze sharpened, following Penelope’s line of sight. She observed Colin for a moment, her expression thoughtful.

‘Ah. Your Mr. Bridgerton appears to be quite the hero tonight, after today’s excitement at the balloon event,’ she said, eyeing Penelope closely.

Penelope’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of pink, and she turned hastily away from Colin. ‘H-he is not my Mr. Bridgerton.’

Lady Danbury arched those splendid eyebrows of hers. ‘I see.’

A pause fell between them. Penelope swallowed hard as Lady Danbury watched her carefully, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

‘Now, I must go, Lady Bridgerton looks in need of some company,’ Lady Danbury said, lifting her chin as she surveyed the ballroom. ‘Enjoy the rest of your evening, Miss Featherington. And enjoy the attention. You deserve it.’

Penelope managed another smile. With a final nod, Lady Danbury swept away, leaving Penelope standing alone amidst the revelry.

She couldn’t help but cast another glance towards Colin, only to see that he was gone, vanished into the throng of guests, leaving her with a dozen unanswered questions and a heart that now felt heavier than before.

Penelope barely had time to sigh before Portia, Prudence and Harry then hurriedly approached her, all wearing incredulous expressions on their faces. Of course – she had almost forgotten that they had been present at tonight’s ball as well, and would have seen her up on the dance floor with Lord Debling. Portia’s eyes gleamed with a mixture of delight and confusion, while Prudence wore a perpetual scowl, and Harry beamed with his usual affable charm.

‘I must say, you were jolly good on that dance floor, Penelope!’ Harry said, rather endearingly.

Prudence, irritated by his enthusiasm, slapped him lightly on the arm.

Portia, ever the opportunist, ignored her elder daughter’s attitude. ‘Mr. Dankworth speaks the truth,’ she chimed in, her eyes sparkling with a rare flicker of pride.

Penelope, still feeing rather overcome from her waltz with Lord Debling, looked at her mother with wide eyes. ‘Truly, Mama?’ she said, blinking.

‘Why, of course,’ Portia replied, her tone almost incredulous. ‘I could scarcely believe that what I was seeing was in fact real.’

Prudence nodded with raised eyebrows.

It was rather amusing; the Featherington family seemed, for a rare moment, united in their shared astonishment at Penelope’s unexpected turn of fortune.

‘Also, Philippa is rather ill,’ Portia added, sounding almost giddy with relief and enthusiasm.

Penelope frowned, puzzled by her mother’s seemingly pleased announcement. ‘You seem…quite happy about that.’

‘We think she may be with child,’ Prudence interjected, sounding rather bitter.

‘Oh. I see,’ Penelope replied, her voice tinged with confusion, and her gaze drifted momentarily, searching the crowd for Colin.

Portia clapped her hands together, drawing Penelope’s attention back.  ‘Yes. Isn’t it wonderful?’ she went on eagerly. ‘And now you, dancing with Lord Debling?! The powers that be must finally be realising that our family deserves a little good fortune for once, after the strains of the past few years.’

Penelope forced a smile, trying to mask her inner turmoil. ‘Indeed, Mama,’ she said, her thoughts swirling.

Portia leaned in with a smile, her curiosity piqued.  ‘Now, tell me, Penelope, how did this courtship with Lord Debling come about? He is quite the catch, and it is just so…unexpected! Was it with Mr. Bridgerton’s assistance?’

Penelope opened her mouth to respond, but her eyes kept darting over Portia’s shoulder, scanning the room for Colin.

‘Penelope, are you listening?’ Portia said sharply.

‘Yes, Mama,’ Penelope said, blinking, and she exhaled as she tried to gather her thoughts. ‘Lord Debling...well, we have spoken a few times…at Lady Danbury’s ball, the Stowell’s soirée, the balloon event today…and, well…we have got to know one another a little better and he…he asked me to dance.’

Prudence crossed her arms, her expression sceptical. ‘Just like that? After getting to know you?’

Harry interjected again, his tone light-hearted. ‘And why not? He is a fine chap, Penelope is a fine young lady,’ he said, and he beamed at Penelope, ‘and you deserve a bit of fun.’

‘Thank you, Harry,’ Penelope said softly, appreciating his support, while Prudence glowered at her husband.

Portia waved a hand dismissively. ‘Fun is all well and good, but there are more important matters at hand. This could be the start of something significant for our family, Penelope,’ she said, eyeing her daughter beadily. ‘You must seize this opportunity.’

Penelope nodded, though her thoughts were elsewhere. ‘Yes, Mama.’

As the conversation continued, Penelope’s attention waned and she began to drift away from her family to stand by herself. She took a steadying breath as the evening’s festivities swirled around her, a dizzying mix of mingling, laughter and music. She couldn’t shake the image of Colin’s troubled face from her mind.

‘Miss Featherington,’ came a familiar voice, rich and warm, as Lord Debling then approached her with two glasses in his hands. ‘Apologies that took me so long, some gentlemen came to speak to me, and I could not get away.’

‘Do not worry at all. Thank you, my lord,’ Penelope said, accepting the lemonade with a grateful smile. ‘I must admit, our dance left me quite parched.’

‘It was a splendid dance,’ Lord Debling said, a warm expression on his face. ‘And what a lovely evening this is.’

‘Indeed, it is,’ Penelope agreed. ‘And Lord Hawkins’ contraptions here are so fascinating. Have you had a chance to see his latest inventions?’

Lord Debling chuckled softly. ‘I have, but I am afraid I must confess that, while Lord Hawkins’ pursuits are certainly impressive, my heart still lies entirely with the wonders of nature and its creatures.’

Penelope smiled. ‘Of course,’ she said, only just noticing Portia lingering nearby and eyeing her sharply; Penelope cleared her throat. ‘Please, do tell me more about your latest expedition, my lord. Your studies seem most intriguing.’

Lord Debling chuckled. ‘Or rather boring, to most people.’

‘You should not say such a thing,’ Penelope chastised. ‘I am interested, as would be many people, truly.’

Lord Debling smiled, looking rather touched. ‘Well, I…I spent this past summer in North Yorkshire, observing the nesting patterns of various birds and the behaviours of foxes in the early dawn. I kept a record of their patterns and so on…it is crucial to observe their habits and understand their ways of life to ensure their preservation.’

Penelope listened, her lemonade momentarily forgotten. ‘It sounds fascinating. And very tranquil.’

‘Indeed, it was. And what about you?’ Lord Debling asked. ‘How did you spend your time in the off-season?’

‘I…mostly stayed at home at our house in the country and…simply contented myself with the world within the pages of books,’ Penelope said, giving him a strained smile. ‘Not terribly exciting, I am afraid.’

‘On the contrary, books can be very exciting. If it is the right book. And the right person to appreciate it,’ Lord Debling said, and the two of them looked at each other warmly. ‘Miss Featherington, I wondered if I would be able to call on you tomorrow morning?’

Penelope’s mouth fell open – she hadn’t been expecting that at all – but before she could respond, Portia magically materialised by her side, looking absolutely delighted. Clearly, she must have been eavesdropping.

‘Lord Debling, what a splendid idea!’ Portia said enthusiastically, pressing a firm hand on Penelope’s shoulder as she beamed at him. ‘We would be most delighted to receive you tomorrow. Wouldn’t we, Penelope?’

She was evidently very taken aback that someone like him would be interested in Penelope, but luckily Lord Debling did not seem too perturbed by Portia’s interference; on the contrary, he was eyeing Penelope with amusement.

‘Yes, of course,’ Penelope said, her voice steady despite the fluttering in her chest. ‘I should like that very much, Lord Debling. Thank you.’

As Lord Debling beamed, Penelope’s gaze was caught by a figure in the distance. Colin was stood near a grand marble pillar in the corner of the ballroom, his eyes scanning the room but his mind clearly elsewhere. Her heart skipped a beat.

‘Do excuse me, just for a moment,’ Penelope said quietly.

With a nod from Lord Debling and a perplexed glance from her mother, Penelope slipped away, crossed the bustling dance floor, drew a deep breath, and stepped towards Colin, smoothing her gown with trembling hands as she went.

She glanced around to ensure that no one was watching before gently touching his arm. Colin’s gaze snapped to hers at her sudden appearance and touch. He looked surprised, curious, and something else she couldn’t quite decipher.

‘Colin, may I have a word?’ she asked softly, her voice barely rising above the hum of the surrounding conversations.

‘Pen,’ Colin said, his voice breaking slightly, and he cleared his throat. ‘Yes, of course.’

They moved to a secluded corner of the ballroom, their departure unnoticed amidst the swirling crowd and lively music, and found a space shielded from prying eyes by a large column and grand potted plant, the murmur of the party fading into the background.

Colin broke the silence first, his voice strained. ‘You looked like you were having a…a pleasant time on the dance floor with Lord Debling,’ he began, trying to sound casual.

‘Yes. Very pleasant,’ Penelope replied with a forced smile. ‘I think it is the first time I have danced with a gentleman who is not you!’

She let out a soft laugh that rang hollow even to her own ears.

Colin chuckled, though his eyes did not share the mirth. ‘Well, quite right. It was about time you found yourself a new dance partner. You do not want yourself lumbered with me all the time.’

‘Oh, I do not know, many ladies would beg to differ on that score,’ Penelope said, trying to keep her tone light.

Colin raised his eyebrows at her, a flicker of a smile forming on his lips as he wondered hopefully whether she had intended to flirt with him. Penelope felt her cheeks redden at his gaze.

She took a deep breath before continuing. ‘Lord Debling has asked to call on me tomorrow,’ she said, rather breathlessly.

Colin felt his heart plummet to the bottom of his stomach. ‘That…that is wonderful news!’ he said, for what else could he say at this point?

‘Is it?’ Penelope asked, searching his face for any sign of genuine happiness.

‘Isn’t it?’ he countered, a bit too quickly.

‘No, it is, I just… yes, it is,’ she said, rather flustered. ‘I only wondered-’

‘Yes?’ Colin prompted, leaning closer.

‘W-well, is everything all right? With us, I mean?’ she asked, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for his response.

Colin swallowed. ‘Wh-whatever do you mean? Of course it is, always, always,’ he stammered, a flicker of unease crossing his face.

‘It’s just you were acting a little…oddly…before my dance with Lord Debling,’ she said, somewhat awkwardly.

Colin frowned and tilted his head at her, as if he had no idea what she was talking about. ‘Oddly?’

‘Yes,’ Penelope said, her brow furrowed. ‘You said you had a question you wanted to ask me, but then you…’

Penelope trailed off as she recalled how he had looked at her with such intensity that it had nearly taken her breath away. He had looked as if he had been about to pounce on her in front of the entire ton. It had been rather disconcerting, to say the least.

Colin’s eyes darted away for a moment before he met her gaze again. ‘Oh, I…I cannot remember, I…I…’

He felt rather embarrassed; looking back, he hadn’t known at all what he had been intending to ask her in that moment. He’d had a million thoughts running through his head and known more or less what he wanted to say to her, but had been hit with the realisation the moment those words had left his mouth that he couldn’t very well declare his feelings for her right there in the middle of the ballroom. He had been stupid in not giving himself his usual time to rehearse what to say; instead, he had moved too quickly from his conversation with his mother to confronting Penelope with no plan or specific question formulated in mind, so he had frozen. He couldn’t help wondering how much that moment of doubting and freezing had cost him – it might have very well altered the entire course of his future.

‘I…suppose I wanted to ask…well, if you were happy,’ Colin continued, gulping. ‘About…the way things are leading with…Lord Debling.’

Penelope’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘Oh. Well, we have only had one dance, nothing is quite that serious yet,’ she said, deep in thought. ‘But…I said at the beginning of the season that I wanted to find a husband, and…Lord Debling seems like he could be a possibility in that regard, and he is a good man so…I am content, yes.’

Colin regarded her for a moment. There was not one hint of a smile anywhere on her face as she had spoken.

‘Content is not the same as happy,’ he said quietly.

Penelope exhaled deeply. ‘What do you want me to say, Colin?’ she said, slightly sharply. 

‘I…’ He floundered; he hadn’t been expecting such an abrupt change in her tone of voice.

‘This is what you wanted to help me with at the start of the season, and it’s worked,’ she said, sounding rather agitated. ‘I thought you would be happy for me.’

‘I am!’ Colin said, but he sighed when he realised how insincere the words had sounded; he closed his eyes and tried again. ‘I am. If it is what you want.’

‘It is what I want,’ Penelope said, though as she said the words she realised she wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince more, Colin or herself.

‘Well, then,’ Colin said, giving a nonchalant shrug. ‘I couldn’t be happier.’

‘Good.’

‘Yes. Quite.’

A tense silence fell between them.

Colin looked down, at a loss with what to do. ‘Well. I…I shall take my leave,’ he said, making a move to step away.

‘You do not have to,’ Penelope blurted out, her eyes locking onto his.

They looked at each other, the moment stretching into eternity. She just wanted to stay like this for a short while, just the two of them in the corner of a ballroom like old times.

‘Colin,’ she said, her voice suddenly rather small and nervous. ‘I…you said at Lady Danbury’s ball last month that you had missed me, when you were away travelling. Well, I missed you too.’

Colin inhaled sharply as he took in her words, hope rising within him. ‘You did? Even though you were vexed with me?’ he said, his lips twitching. ‘Quite rightly so, I might add.’

Penelope’s trembling lips smiled. ‘Even then. I always…’ She hesitated, feeling the weight of her next words. ‘I do not want things to change, if I actually were to…get married. My family do not care about me, I have very few friends, I have already lost Eloise…I cannot lose you too.’

‘You will not,’ Colin said earnestly, and he gripped her hand without thinking. ‘You could never lose me. Never.’

Penelope nodded as she raised her eyebrows at him. ‘Truly?’ she whispered.

Colin smiled and squeezed her hand. ‘I swear it.’

Penelope smiled, relief washing over her, and she squeezed his hand back. She glanced down at their intertwined hands for a moment, her lips parting, and then looked up to meet his gaze. His eyes looked rather watery all of a sudden.

Flustered, Penelope then withdrew her hand from his. Both their cheeks were flushed as they took a step back from one another, realising only now that it was a good job they had been concealed from view of everyone else behind the column and potted plant.

‘Uh…have you been introduced to Lord Debling?’ Penelope said then, only to break the silence. ‘He is still here, I would very much like you to meet him.’

Colin’s face fell. ‘Oh, I err…’ He didn’t know what excuse he could come up, but he had to think of something fast; he couldn’t imagine anything worse than speaking to Lord Debling.

‘Please, Colin,’ Penelope said, and Colin’s heart sank – how could he possibly refuse her when she had said ‘please’? ‘If things were to become serious between Lord Debling and I, then I would very much like the two of you to be friends as well. I could not bear it otherwise.’

Colin paused, studying her face before finally nodding. ‘Well…if it means that much to you,’ he said, looking down briefly before forcing himself to smile at her. ‘Of course.’

Penelope’s heart lifted at his response. ‘Thank you,’ she said softly. ‘Come, he’s over this way.’

She led a visibly uneasy Colin back to the centre of the ballroom and towards the refreshments table where Lord Debling stood, a charming smile gracing his features. She could feel the tension radiating off Colin, though she couldn’t ascertain why. What was his problem?

‘Lord Debling,’ Penelope said when they reached him, a hopeful smile on her face. ‘I do not believe you have yet formally met Colin Bridgerton? He is my, uh…’ – she froze for a moment as she caught Colin’s eye; how could she possibly describe to Lord Debling what Colin was to her? – ‘m-my old friend, we have known one another since we were children.’

Lord Debling, ever the gentleman, extended his hand to Colin with a gracious smile. ‘Mr. Bridgerton, it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. Miss Featherington spoke highly of you the other evening at Stowell House,’ he said, ‘and any friend of Miss Featherington’s is a friend of mine.’

Colin forced a smile, his jaw tightening imperceptibly, and returned the handshake with forced cordiality. ‘The pleasure is mine, Lord Debling,’ he said, trying to keep his voice steady. ‘Penelope – I-I mean, Miss Featherington – speaks fondly of many, but I must say, it is rare to meet someone who has captured her interest so profoundly.’

Penelope blushed slightly, looking between the two men, and forced out a chuckle. An awkward pause then settled between the three of them, none of them knowing what to say to fill the silence. Penelope took a loud sip of her lemonade, but still, neither gentleman said anything.

She cleared her throat, trying to alleviate the tension. ‘Uh, Colin…Lord Debling was telling me about his latest expedition to the countryside to study the preservation of local wildlife,’ she said, eyeing Colin hopefully.

Colin nodded, trying to appear politely interested. ‘That sounds quite remarkable,’ he said, turning to Lord Debling with a nod. ‘Wildlife preservation is certainly a noble pursuit.’

Lord Debling laughed modestly. ‘You are too kind, Mr. Bridgerton. I am afraid many find my passions rather dull.’

‘Dull? Hardly,’ Colin said, forcing a light chuckle. ‘Anyone who can capture Penelope’s attention so completely must be quite engaging.’

Penelope beamed at the exchange. ‘You see, my lord? Colin understands.’

Colin’s heart sank further as he observed the genuine affection in Penelope’s eyes when she looked up at Lord Debling.

It felt like he had been let out of a cage he hadn’t even realised he had been imprisoned in. It was killing him just to see them stood together, and Colin didn’t understand how such a silly, simple thing, something far beyond mere jealousy, could control him so intensely.

It all came back to that kiss. That was how all this had started, despite the fact that it should have only been a favour, that it shouldn’t have meant anything. But it had changed Colin’s entire world…and, instead of doing anything about it, he now he had to watch Penelope be happy with someone else. He supposed that was just the price he had to pay for being such a blind, oblivious, careless fool in not seeing her sooner.

He could not stand another moment of this. A dark cloud was descending on him, and he had never felt more hopeless or more inadequate in comparison to someone else. Lord Debling was just too perfect. He was titled, rich, kind, handsome – the very epitome of a dashing gentleman. Penelope herself had told Colin she liked his character and his looks. She enjoyed his company, and he was all she had been hoping for.

Lord Debling was going to become Penelope’s husband; Colin could already see it happening. And, in doing so, he was going to destroy Colin’s life.

He cleared his throat. ‘Uh, forgive me, but I am afraid I must take my leave,’ he said, rather unsteadily. ‘My family…my sister Francesca is having a rather difficult time navigating her first season, I must see that she is all right.’

Penelope’s face fell, a flicker of disappointment crossing her eyes. Why was he leaving so soon?

Lord Debling nodded in understanding. ‘How very attentive of you. It was a pleasure to properly meet you, Mr. Bridgerton,’ he said sincerely.

‘And you, Lord Debling. Good evening,’ Colin said, bowing his head, and he turned to Penelope, his face faltering. ‘Pen- Miss Featherington.’

Penelope’s voice was soft and tinged with a hint of sadness when she spoke. ‘Mr. Bridgerton.’

Without another word, Colin then darted away.

He needed to escape, to breathe, to think – anything but remain in the presence of Lord Debling. The realisation of Penelope and Debling’s new courtship had come crashing down upon him with an intensity that left him breathless, and seeing Penelope with him was more than he could bear.

‘Colin!’ Violet then called over, and Colin froze as he saw his mother and siblings gathered under one of the arches nearby. ‘Colin, we were thinking of departing soon if you would like to join us, or we can ask the carriage to return-’

‘Oh, thank God,’ Colin said, relieved, his chest feeling more and more constricted with each second. ‘Let us go.’

Colin’s heart pounded in his chest as he led the way briskly through the crowded ballroom towards the entrance, the opulent surroundings blurring around him, his family following closely behind. Finally, they made it outside and reached the sanctuary of the waiting carriage in the Hawkins’ drive. Colin nearly stumbled as he climbed inside, the cool night air offering little comfort against the burning in his chest. The door closed behind them with a definitive thud, shutting out the glittering world of the ball.

‘Colin, are you-?’

But Colin cut over his mother sharply. ‘I am well. Thank you, I am just tired.’

Colin collapsed onto the carriage seat at once, breathing heavily. The vehicle then jolted into motion, and, with desperate fingers, he clawed at his cravat and undid the top buttons of his waistcoat in a desperate attempt to free himself from the suffocating fabric.

Eloise, Benedict, and Francesca exchanged worried glances before Eloise leaned forward, her sharp eyes narrowing with concern. ‘Colin, what is the matter?’

Colin forced a smile, though it felt like a grimace. ‘I am fine, Eloise. Just…perhaps coming down with a head cold or something,’ he replied.

Benedict immediately edged away slightly on the seat, grimacing. ‘Well, in that case, keep your distance. I have no desire to catch it.’

Francesca’s brow furrowed as she leaned forward, her voice gentle. ‘Are you sure it is just that, Colin?’ she asked, concerned. ‘You do not look well at all.’

Colin nodded, and then looked down, trying to concentrate on steadying his breathing.

Violet merely watched him sadly, her eyes full of both unspoken questions and quiet sympathy. Colin avoided her gaze, knowing that she could already see the truth he wasn’t ready to admit aloud. She always understood far more than she let on.

Colin turned away, thrusting his head out through the open window and breathing deeply as he inhaled the fresh night air, the brisk breeze cooling his fevered skin.

Above, the moon hung high in the sky, casting its silvery glow over the quiet streets of London as their carriage rolled on. It was the same moon that had shone down on Colin and Penelope that night in her garden as they had shared a kiss…a kiss that now seemed like nothing but a distant dream. That moment had been perfect, unmarred by the complexities and heartaches that now plagued him. Colin closed his eyes, letting the memory wash over him. He would give anything to go back to that moment, to feel the warmth of her lips against his once more, to perhaps even tell her how he truly felt.

But reality was a harsh mistress, and the present could not be changed by wishes and longing glances at the moon.

It was too late. He had taken too long to realise what had been right there at his side this whole time. And Colin now had no choice but to accept the bitter reality: that he had lost Penelope Featherington for good.

Chapter Text

Penelope was in a daze. It was the strangest sensation, to have a gentleman calling at the family house to speak to her and only her. It was remarkably pleasant. Indeed, it gave Penelope such a buzz to be sat on the settee with Lord Debling, and able to converse with him without really trying to make an effort or put on any act. The words flowed naturally, the smiles came easily, and he was most attentive and lovely towards her. It made her realise that he was the first – and probably only – man in the ton to ever really see her as a woman, and for that she felt extremely grateful and flattered.

Lord Debling had bought her a plant, so that she could ‘enjoy nature from the windowsill’. It was not exactly the most personal of gifts, but it showed that he had paid attention to what she had said at Lord Hawkins’ Innovations Ball, and to receive any kind of gift from a suitor was an experience Penelope had never had the pleasure of before, so it didn’t really matter what it was. The morning itself was thrilling, simply by him just being here.

She could hear her mother and sisters whispering loudly as they spied on them, rather unsubtly, through the gap in the drawing room door. Just as Penelope knew she would, Portia then swept into the room without warning, Prudence and Philippa trailing in after her looking rather perplexed by this state of affairs.

‘Lord Debling,’ Portia said, as both Penelope and Lord Debling rose to their feet. ‘My other daughters just happened to drop by, and they wish to say good day.’

Penelope couldn’t help smirking as she eyed both her sisters. They looked incredibly put out.

Lord Debling nodded politely. ‘Good day,’ he greeted, and both Prudence and Philippa gave a stiff curtsy in response.

Penelope’s smile widened; their expressions were amusing and immensely satisfying. For years, her sisters had made fun of her and underestimated her, and now they could see that she had somehow managed to win the attentions of a kind, handsome lord all on her own. It was an unbeatable feeling.

‘Good day,’ Penelope said to them both, unable to hide her smugness, and she put down the potted plant Lord Debling had gifted her.

Portia looked just as stunned by this latest development with Penelope, but at least she seemed excited by it. ‘We are so pleased to have you. So often, my Penelope is sat at that window, reading,’ she said to Lord Debling in a weary voice – because, clearly, nothing worse could be said of any woman – and Penelope’s smile began to fade. ‘And now, here she is, in the room. And we have you to thank for that.’

‘Is that so?’ Lord Debling said, turning to Penelope with interest. ‘Is there a reason you like that window so much? Is the…settee particularly comfortable?’

Penelope chuckled. ‘Not particularly. I suppose I mostly just enjoy the view…’

She trailed off as she glanced towards the window. She could only just about make out the outline of Bridgerton House through the sheer drapes, but perhaps that was simply because she knew every detail of its red-bricked façade off by heart. She had watched that house for so many years, wondering if it would ever become her home. That dream was over now, though. And, for the first time, Penelope did not feel broken-hearted by that fact. On the contrary, she felt ready at last to put it behind her.

‘But I have grown rather tired of it,’ Penelope went on, surprised to hear herself say the words and mean them, as she turned back to Lord Debling. ‘And I am very glad to be here with you.’

She smiled brightly at him. Lord Debling smiled back, and she felt an overwhelming surge of relief flood through her. What a strange feeling it was, to have things go well for oneself for once.

They talked some more, but it was not long after when Lord Debling then glanced at the clock.

‘I have already overstayed my welcome, I will take my leave. Thank you very much for your hospitality,’ Lord Debling said to them all, before turning to address only Penelope. ‘Shall you be in attendance at the library opening this afternoon?’

‘I shall,’ Penelope said, nodding keenly.

‘Then I very much look forward to seeing you there, Miss Featherington,’ Lord Debling said, smiling and bowing his head at her, before turning to her mother and sisters. ‘Lady Featherington. Mrs. Finch. Mrs. Dankworth.’

They all bid their farewells, and Lord Debling was then shown out by Mrs. Varley. The moment he had left, Portia turned to gaze at her daughters with wide, excited eyes, and Penelope beamed back.

Philippa began to laugh, clearly not knowing what to say.

‘Did that truly just happen?’ Prudence said incredulously.

‘No need to sound quite so bitter, Prudence,’ Penelope said, a sly tone to her voice, and Prudence scowled at her.

‘Now, now, ladies. Let us not fight, we have much to celebrate,’ Portia said, her face alight with joy. ‘Penelope has a gentleman caller, at last, and now Philippa may be with child as well! We have been truly blessed this season, it seems.’

Penelope chuckled at the sight of her mother being so uncharacteristically giddy. She felt happy – sort of – but also confused. She didn’t understand why she wasn’t absolutely overcome with delight, when this was all she had been wanting since the beginning of the season. A lord was courting her. A good, kind man. So what was holding her back from embracing the joy she should feel at this miraculous turn of events?

She knew the answer to that, of course she did, she was not an imbecile. She also  knew that she could not just simply eradicate the longing in her heart for another with a click of her fingers. But she had to try and do something to move past this.

She would have to avoid Colin Bridgerton entirely. At least for now, until things were settled with Lord Debling. There was no other solution. She had suggested to Colin that they keep their distance the other week, but that had not gone as well as intended, and she was still plagued day and night by thoughts and dreams of their kiss – not to mention that alarming way he had looked at her just before her dance with Lord Debling at the Innovations Ball. So, she would simply have to not look in his direction or speak with him at any future social gathering…at least until Lord Debling had made his intentions clear and she was capable of letting herself feel happy about it. It was the only way.

***

Colin was sat at the writing desk in his study. He had been there ever since arising from bed earlier this morning; he had not even had any breakfast, which was most unlike him.

The morning light filtered through the sheer drapes of the windows, casting a melancholy glow over the room, while the latest issue of Lady Whistledown lay open before him on the desk. Colin’s jaw twitched angrily as his eyes skimmed over one of the passages for what felt like the hundredth time:

This author believes that all of man’s greatest inventions are nothing more than a distraction from what is most natural to us: our instincts. The innate animal impulse that is inside even the most sophisticated of us, for, when all is said and done, our nature will always win out.

It seems Lord Debling’s instinct has led this man of nature to the most surprising pick of the season in Miss Penelope Featherington. Suffice it to say, this author is captivated, for in the battle between man and nature, it is quite clear that the battle is, in fact, between man and himself.

Cursing under his breath, Colin scrunched up the Whistledown paper in his hands and chucked it onto the floor in the corner of the room. He then opened one of the desk drawers, where bundles of letters – including those previously sent from Penelope – lay in stacked piles, and grabbed the one thing that didn’t make him feel lost: his journal. He opened it up on the desk and began to page through the previous entries from his travels, frowning. Penelope had said that his writing was good, but she had only read a tiny bit of it as far as he aware. How could he be sure her words were true?

He couldn’t bear it if they were not, for the thought of writing now was the only solace he could find amidst his misery. It was the perfect form of escapism. And Colin needed to escape from the real world now more than ever.

He paused as he came across an entry from when he had been in Vienna, just before he had departed for Italy and met the Contessa:

Another day in paradise, but things are truly starting to lose their lustre. The libraries are beginning to look like a graveyard, with old books and ancient things scattered around the room. The lights are dimming. It is not that I am not keeping delightful company, because I am, but I miss my family now more than ever.

After my travels last year when I wrote so much and received very few replies, I am trying out a new personality. A new way of seeing the world and interacting with others. I want to be less needy, less insecure, while still maintaining the core of my vulnerability that makes me who I am. I am a Bridgerton man. But I want to be more than just a Bridgerton man defined by my lineage and the expectations that come with it. I want to carve out my own identity, to be a man of the world with stories and experiences that are uniquely mine. I want to stand alongside the other men of the ton and feel their respect, rather than their pity or derision.

This journey through Europe so far, though filled with breathtaking sights and fascinating people, has also been a journey inward. I have been observing the mannerisms of those who effortlessly draw people in – their ease of movement, the way they listen intently before delivering a witty remark, and their confidence not just in their words but in their very presence. I am learning to mimic these traits, to embody them until they become second nature.

Each new city, each conversation, has become a lesson in the art of self-assurance. Today, for instance, I practised my newfound charisma at a soirée at the Palais Liechtenstein. I greeted guests with a charming smile, engaging in witty banter and flirting effortlessly with the ladies. I joined a group and, instead of retreating into my usual quietude, I led the conversation with anecdotes of my travels thus far and observations of the art I have seen. It was a performance, one that I have been beginning to hone meticulously. I was met with laughter, interest, and – most importantly – respect. It felt liberating.

Tonight, as I write this, I feel a mixture of excitement and apprehension. Excitement for the man I am becoming, for the doors this transformation will open, and apprehension because change is never without its challenges. Europe is teaching me much, but the most valuable lesson is that of self-reinvention. I know I cannot entirely shed my innate sensitivity – it is, after all, a part of what makes me who I am – but I can learn to blend it with a newfound boldness.

The mask I am now beginning to wear is not false; it is simply a projection of the confident man I aspire to become. No longer will I be dismissed as dull or sensitive. When I return to London, I hope to surprise them all. I hope to step into the social season not as the tedious, predictable younger brother always overshadowed by his siblings’ accomplishments, but as a man who commands attention, who exudes charm and confidence. I want to captivate the ladies, impress the gentlemen, and most of all, prove to myself that I am capable of such a transformation.

I will return home not as a changed man, but as a man more fully realised, more interesting and confident in his place in the world. I very much look forward to rising to this challenge, although it is safe to say I will need all the help, luck and well wishes I can get in this endeavour. God save me.

Sighing sadly, Colin then turned a few more pages to another entry, written a few weeks later:

My days in Rome have been a whirlwind of balls, opera, sightseeing, and the allure of a city steeped in history. It has been a truly remarkable experience.

While I explored the depths of the city today, my thoughts keep returning to my brief liaison with Lady Rothschild from Florence. Her wit and beauty were captivating, yet beneath it all, I sensed a void. There was no spark of true connection between us, only a fleeting pleasure that left me strangely empty.

Since parting ways with her, I find myself questioning the depth of these recent encounters on my travels. The charm and flirtation that once seemed enticing now ring hollow in my heart. Perhaps it is the familiarity of London’s social season that I miss - a world where relationships hold substance beyond mere dalliance, at least where my family and friends are concerned.

So, in short, I began consumed with thoughts of Lady Rothschild, but by the end of the day, I simply longed for family, for the familiar. I wish to experience everything with them. Even Anthony, ever a new charming enigma, delightfully himself. And then there is my friend Penelope. Perhaps the smartest person I have ever met besides Eloise. The two of them together would have so much to say about this city. The cobblestone streets, the bustling markets, the rich history - they would weave tales and theories that would make any scholar envious.

Tomorrow, I plan to visit Vatican City, and I cannot help but imagine how Penelope’s eyes would light up at the sight of such wonders. Eloise would dissect everything with her sharp mind, questioning the stories behind the art and architecture, delving into the minds of the creators. Their companionship would make every moment richer, every discovery more profound, and Penelope’s wisdom and sunny nature would no doubt illuminate these magnificent surroundings in ways no guidebook could.

Rome’s grandeur cannot replace the warmth of such bonds. The chapels and basilicas and fountains, while majestic, pale in comparison to the joy of sharing such wonders with loved ones.

For now, I must content myself with the knowledge that each step I take, each marvel I witness, brings me closer to understanding the world and, in turn, appreciating the comfort of home. I will be back with my loved ones at Bridgerton House before I know it, and Penelope will be there to cheer my spirits at every social gathering, and I simply cannot wait.

Colin’s brow furrowed as he stared at his words and continued to leaf through the pages. The word ‘Penelope’ kept glaring up at him from almost every subsequent page. How had he not realised, even then? She had consumed his mind every day while away on his travels, and yet he had still been utterly blind, unable to recognise what it meant. It was utterly infuriating, to look back on now and realise what a fool he had been.

There was then a knock at the study door. Colin shut his journal at once with a clearing of his throat as Violet entered.

‘Oh, I thought I might find you in here,’ she said, putting in her earrings as she walked over to him.

‘I am found,’ Colin said, without looking up as he tied up his journal securely.

He didn’t feel found, though. He felt completely lost.

Violet chuckled. ‘We are expecting the Marquess Samadani to call on Francesca this morning. Can I count on your presence?’ she asked.

Colin leaned back on his chair, his heart sinking; he couldn’t think of anything worse than putting on a cheerful, sociable front right now. ‘I think it may be best if I absent myself from this round,’ he said.

Violet tilted her head at him.

‘Well, if I am there, I will surely eat all of the biscuits and leave none for the marquess,’ he said, with a dry smile and flicker of his eyebrows.

He could already tell from Violet’s expression that she was not convinced by his jokey mood. Indeed, he could already feel a motherly heart-to-heart coming, just from the way she hovered tentatively before him. And then, sure enough –

‘Dear...’ she began gently, smiling at him. ‘At last night’s ball, when you were asking about friendship and…whether it can blossom into love…’

Colin slowly sat up, his lips parting in horror. Dear God, was it really that obvious?

‘Is there…something you wished to discuss with me?’ Violet asked.

Colin pressed his lips together as he gazed up at his mother, his mind whirling. Yes, there was something he wished to discuss with her, very much. But by speaking it aloud and putting it out there, he could never take it back. At least, if he kept silent, only he would know of his unrequited feelings for his old friend. Anything to save him from pity or embarrassment, after all.

He looked down, already feeling guilty; he hated being dishonest to his mother. ‘That is kind of you, Mother, but it was purely a…speculative question,’ he said, and Violet’s face fell as she straightened up, clearly disappointed by his response. ‘I simply want the best for Francesca.’

Violet nodded, considering him carefully. She then took a step towards him and opened her mouth.

‘I shall come down later,’ Colin said firmly, before she could speak.

Violet blinked and then composed herself. ‘Very well,’ she said, with a nod.

Reluctantly, she turned and left the room, leaving Colin to ponder in silence, alone with nothing but his thoughts.

Colin lowered his gaze as Violet shut the door behind her, his lips tightening, and his fingers began to drum restlessly on the arm of his chair. He didn’t know what to do to tackle his predicament. He had always believed himself to be a man of action, but now he felt paralysed, trapped by his own indecision and fear. What if he told Penelope how he truly felt, and she rejected him? What if she still chose Lord Debling, not just for his status, but because she genuinely preferred him?

The study felt suffocating, as if the walls were closing in around him. He stood abruptly, knocking over a book from his desk in his haste. He moved slowly towards the window behind him and looked out over the bustling square. The social season was in full swing, and everywhere he turned, there were reminders of the world he felt increasingly disconnected from.

On reflection, Colin knew that his feelings for Penelope had always been deep and complex. For years he had cherished her friendship and wit, admired her intelligence and kindness, and found solace in her unwavering support. But it wasn’t until their kiss a few weeks ago that he had realised the true depths of his emotions. That single, unexpected kiss had unlocked something within him, striking him with the force of a cannon blast and making him see her in a new light. That moment had made him see the truth he had been denying himself. He had already loved her in every other sense of the word; the physical connection, the attraction, had merely been the final missing piece. This realisation had been as exhilarating as it was terrifying.

What little good that knowledge did him now.

Penelope now had someone else courting her, and not just any someone. By all accounts, Lord Debling was a much better man, whose charm, wealth, and impeccable social standing made him a far more suitable match in the eyes of society. Colin could not possibly compete with Debling’s polished image, and he would be a fool to try to do so.

Colin turned back to the desk and sank into his chair, his head in his hands. The memory of that kiss with Penelope kept playing over and over in his mind, a sweet torment. It had been everything he had ever dreamed of and more, a fleeting moment of perfect clarity.

He closed his eyes, willing himself to find the strength to move forward. He could not change the past, and he could not undo the choices that had led him to this moment. All he could do was hope that, somehow, fate would be kind to him…and that maybe, just maybe, Penelope might change her mind and see the light as well.

***

A few hours later, Colin found himself getting out of a carriage with the rest of his family, ready for the season’s next gathering. Violet had made it very clear to Colin over luncheon that, while he had skipped calling hour in the drawing room this morning, he had no choice but to accompany the family to this afternoon’s social assembly, no matter how much he might not want to.

Their gracious host had opened his wondrous collection of books and art to the public for the first time since he had started building it in 1790, and it truly was a wonder to behold.

As they entered, light glowed through the ornamental windows set into the recessed ceiling of the manor, casting a soft, golden hue across the grand entryway. Several grand paintings adorned the walls in elaborate frames. Beneath these imposing artworks, the Bridgertons and the rest of the guests moved past the double staircases that flanked the entryway, their steps echoing in the vast hall as they took in the grandeur of the manor with wide eyes.

Everyone gawked as they entered the impressive library; this sanctuary of knowledge and luxury was a marvel in its own right. Bookshelves crafted from rich mahogany lined the walls from floor to ceiling, each one laden with hundreds of leather-bound volumes. The guests milled about the space as they admired the books and debated the merits of various authors, their conversations a mixture of admiration for the impressive collection and the latest whispers of the ton.

Colin entered along with Violet and his siblings. Predictably, Eloise was very keen to explore the many books that filled the room. Francesca, meanwhile, was being escorted by the Marquess Samadani, the suitor the Queen was relentlessly pushing at her, although she did not seem particularly interested in his company. They were talking in response to some passing comment from Lord Samadani, though Colin did not know what; he had just caught sight of Penelope. His lips parted slightly.

There she was, in the corner of the room bonding with Lord Debling over a book. Of course – she was being herself, just as Colin had told her to be. Lord Debling looked enamoured with her, and Colin couldn’t blame him; she looked utterly enchanting, dressed all in periwinkle blue and with her hair braided at the side and adorned with a ribbon headband. Her hairstyle was very different to anything he had seen her wear before, but it suited her well; she looked absolutely radiant. She looked very animated as well, as she talked to Lord Debling about whatever book it was they were perusing. Colin wished she would talk to him about it instead. He wished he could find the courage to walk right up to them both, interrupt their book analysis, and declare to Penelope the tormenting feelings he had been experiencing ever since the night of their kiss.

But he was a coward at heart so all he did instead was merely stand there amongst the books and people and try to distract himself by mingling and speaking about pointless matters of high society, all the while glancing over at Penelope and her dashing suitor every few seconds.

Trying to push aside his inner torment, Colin soon found himself stood talking with Lords Stanton and Wilding – though, in truth, he couldn’t really ascertain why he still bothered with them anymore – and within seconds ended up being met with many dazzling smiles from ladies stood nearby.

‘I aided you with that balloon, and yet all the fan-fluttering seems to be markedly in your direction,’ Lord Stanton said, somewhat bitterly, as a group of debutantes close to them giggled blatantly while they gazed over at Colin. ‘Perhaps you might grace us tomorrow night with your presence, if you are not busy fending off admirers? We are in pursuit of some revelry.’

He and Lord Wilding exchanged a suggestive glance and a smile. Colin knew from the flicker of their eyebrows just what ‘revelry’ was code for. Drinking and women.

An uneasy expression on his face, Colin glanced at the mirror hung on the wall beside him, his eyes on Penelope’s reflection. She was still stood with Lord Debling, laughing and chatting animatedly.

He had never intended for this to happen – for his mind and body to be utterly consumed by such feelings. He had just wanted to have fun this season, like all the other men. But Penelope had put a stop to that. Colin felt almost resentful towards her now, for being so heartless to make him feel such a way only for him to then lose her. But, of course, it wasn’t her fault. She had no idea. She was completely, blissfully oblivious to his torment.

He couldn’t bear this. He just couldn’t bear it.

But what was to be done? He had lost his chance.

Determined, Colin turned back to Stanton and Wilding. ‘I think I shall accompany you,’ he said decisively, a cheeky expression forming on his face. ‘I could use a little revelry myself.’

‘That’s reassuring to hear,’ Lord Wilding said, and Colin gave him a questioning look. ‘We were concerned you seemed to be rather…losing your touch.’

Colin swallowed. ‘Of course not,’ he said with a frown.

‘Only, the husband-finding business with that Featherington girl-’

‘Is done,’ Colin interrupted Lord Stanton, forcing a brief smile. ‘That business is done. Although, I should remind you, her name is Penelope. And she is a dear friend of mine, so I would appreciate it if you spoke of her with a little more respect. And treat her with some, as well, come to think of it.’

A stunned pause followed his words, and both Wilding and Stanton eyed each other. Colin tried to keep his head held high as he looked at them both, bracing himself for their response.

Lord Wilding cocked an eyebrow at him in amusement. ‘Feeling a little sensitive, are we, Bridgerton?’ he said slyly.

‘Not at all,’ Colin said airily, trying to maintain his cool, collected demeanour. ‘I am simply being honest, and defending those important to me. Is that a crime?’

Lord Wilding shrugged. ‘I suppose not.’

‘Well, then,’ Colin said, and he cleared his throat. ‘Let us plan tomorrow’s excursions. Where shall we begin? Perhaps at Will Mondrich’s club?’

While Colin continued his rather stilted conversation with the two lords, Penelope moved over to a slightly quieter corner of the library with Lord Debling, relieved that Portia had now drifted away to speak with someone else.

She found herself facing Colin from the other side of the room, a dazed expression on her face. She knew that she ought to be taking advantage of the fact that her mother had left her and Lord Debling to it, at last, but she could barely concentrate on the kind gentleman stood smiling at her. Colin was all she could see in this moment.

He had not glanced in her direction since entering this library, not even once; he was too busy laughing and chatting with Lords Stanton and Wilding, and he looked to be rather enjoying himself with them. Penelope’s face faltered slightly in disappointment at his chosen company; she had not forgotten the way those two men had treated her at the Stowell’s soirée. She was also rather confused by Colin’s apparent indifference towards her at this gathering today, particularly after the way he had looked at her at the Innovations Ball. One minute, he acted as if he was almost desperate for her company and attention, the next he seemed unconcerned about whether she was in the room or not. She could barely keep up with his mood swings.

‘Are you looking for someone, Miss Featherington?’ Lord Debling asked politely, moving to step in front of her.

Penelope blinked rapidly, having only just remembered that Lord Debling was stood beside her. ‘No,’ she said, forcing a smile. ‘Only...taking in all the books.’

Lord Debling nodded, regarding her with interest. ‘What is it you prefer to read?’

‘I do not mind a stirring tale or a book of fact, but…in truth, I find myself drawn back time and time again to stories of...love,’ Penelope admitted, smiling and looking down with a sigh of embarrassment.

But Lord Debling did not seem embarrassed or bothered by her reply at all. ‘And what is it about those stories that interests you?’ he asked, a kind tone to his voice.

Penelope hesitated; no one had ever asked her that before. ‘They are histories of connection…of hope for a better life,’ she said wistfully, and then she closed her eyes and grimaced. ‘Does that make me sound terribly vapid?’

‘Miss Featherington, I am happy to learn that you have a passion,’ Lord Debling reassured her, smiling. ‘One that brings you such joy as my research brings me. We are alike in that way.’

Penelope gave him a luminous smile. Yes, they were alike in quite a few ways, she supposed. She certainly could not ask for much more in a suitor.

‘Are there any novels in which the man goes travelling for a very long time, and his wife is happy to stay behind, tending the estate?’ Lord Debling then asked, and Penelope felt her smile fade and heart skip a beat all at once as she registered his words. ‘I suppose that would not be a book with much sentiment, would it?’

Penelope chuckled lightly, feeling rather overcome. ‘Not necessarily,’ she said, shaking her head, her mind racing. ‘But if the wife…did have her own interests in life, then…perhaps they could both be very happy.’

‘A practical match... but a happy one? I like the sound of that,’ Lord Debling said, smiling warmly at her.

Penelope smiled back, though she realised as she did so that she was suddenly feeling rather strange. Before, it had felt so enjoyable, being caught up in this lovely little fantasy with such a kind gentleman who actually wanted to pay her attention and get to know her. But now, unless she was severely misreading the situation, he seemed serious. Now he seemed…to have intentions. And Penelope wasn’t sure how to process that.

‘And…how, dare I ask, might this…fictional gentleman ask for the young lady’s hand?’ Lord Debling asked her tentatively, his voice and flickering eyes adorably nervous. ‘Especially if she had no male relative. If-if you were writing the book, that is.’

Penelope’s smile had completely disappeared as he had spoken.

No. This is too soon.

She couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. Perhaps she had misunderstood him. But then she listened back to his words, and realised there was no room for misinterpretation when it came to this. She was in shock; she hadn’t expected this to happen so quickly. She knew she should be dizzy with excitement, but instead she simply felt faint with fear and uncertainty.

‘Well, I suppose he…would have to ask her mother,’ Penelope replied, somewhat nervously.

‘I see,’ Lord Debling said, gazing at her. ‘And if her mother gave her blessing…do you think she would say yes?’

It was taking Penelope all the effort she could muster to keep her breathing under control as she gazed back up at him. She did not know what to say. She did not even know what to think. What was wrong with her? She had been wishing for this the whole season. Yes, it may not be the particular person she had been wishing it to happen with, but that had never even been a possibility. And Lord Debling was being so kind, so warm, so thoughtful…

Nevertheless, Penelope had an awkward feeling that it was not normal to dread an upcoming proposal from one’s suitor.

Unbidden, she turned her shining eyes once again towards Colin across the other side of the room. He still didn’t seem to have noticed her, and was still engaged in animated conversation with the odious Lords Stanton and Wilding.

It was no use looking towards Colin for help or an answer, she knew that. His role as a tutor in the art of wooing was complete, and his role as a friend was very much just that – a friend and nothing more. And yet he was still too present in her head and her heart to answer Lord Debling’s question. After all, saying ‘yes’ to Lord Debling now would mean definitively giving up any hope of Colin. Saying ‘yes’ would be the final nail in the coffin. And she did not want to do that until she was absolutely sure.

Her eyes flickered for a moment before she was able to meet Lord Debling’s gaze again. ‘I think you would have to read the book,’ was the best response she could come up with.

Lord Debling regarded her warmly and gave her a faint nod and smile, clearly satisfied with her response.

Penelope offered him a strained, misty-eyed smile in return. She very much hoped that he could not see just how much she was panicking inside.

‘Penelope. Penelope!’

Penelope blinked rapidly and looked up; her mother had come bustling over with an air of urgency and an effusive smile.

‘We must be leaving soon, we are due to meet your sisters at Gunter’s Tea Shop,’ Portia said, her gaze flickering to Lord Debling with thinly-veiled admiration.

‘Yes, Mama,’ Penelope murmured, nodding politely, though her mind was elsewhere – across the library, Colin seemed to have finally noticed her; he was watching her unabashedly, his brow furrowed.

Colin felt rather uneasy as he stared over at Penelope. He had just heard from Lord Wilding that Lord Debling was apparently planning another lengthy excursion abroad for his studies – for three years. Lord Stanton had been questioning why Debling was even bothering with the whole rigmarole of high society, let alone seeking a wife, if he weren’t planning on staying in it. Colin had to agree. Three years was a long time, and certainly too long to leave a wife behind. Penelope deserved far better than that.

He wondered if Penelope knew that she deserved better too, deep down. It had pained him earlier to see her look so happy and animated when he wasn’t there with her, but right now as their eyes met, catching her by surprise, he saw something flicker in Penelope’s expression, something that told him that not all was as well as it appeared. She looked troubled – panicked, even. She looked like she might fall apart if one person were to simply pay close enough attention to her and ask her what was wrong.

Their eyes lingered for a moment too longer than was proper before Penelope looked away hastily, her heart pounding in her chest. How long had Colin been watching her? Could he see the fear and indecision etched on her face? Could he read her mind at last?

‘Oh, Lord Debling, it is always a pleasure to see you,’ Portia was saying, completely oblivious to her daughter’s distraction. ‘But if you will excuse us, we have many engagements to attend to.’

Lord Debling nodded politely. ‘Of course, Lady Featherington. I have business to attend to myself. Miss Featherington, I have thoroughly enjoyed our conversation today. Your insights about books, in particular, have been…very enlightening,’ he said to Penelope, his eyes sparkling. ‘I look forward to many such conversations in the future.’

Penelope’s lips formed a faltering smile as she looked up at him. ‘Thank you, my lord. I-I have enjoyed today as well.’

Portia practically beamed at them both, her enthusiasm for the match evident.

‘Well, I shall bid you both good day. I hope to see you again soon, Miss Featherington,’ Lord Debling said with a bow, his gaze lingering on Penelope, and he turned to leave.

Portia wiggled her eyebrows approvingly at Penelope the moment he had gone. ‘He seems very taken with you,’ she noted.

Penelope sighed. ‘Do you always have to sound so surprised when you say things like that, Mama?’ she said dryly.

Portia’s smile faded slightly. ‘I am…merely saying. It is a good thing! Now, come, we must depart. Oh. Colin Bridgerton looks to be making his way over,’ she said, sounding rather disappointed, and she cast Penelope an impatient glance. ‘Keep it brief, Penelope, or we shall be late.’

Portia walked on, leaving Penelope barely enough time to register what she had just said when Colin then appeared before her, a strained expression on his face. It seemed that their agreement of keeping their distance in public had gone entirely out of the window – not that their attempts had ever really been successful anyway. Penelope sighed as she glanced around them; a few people were looking their way, but other than that, most people didn’t seem to notice or care anymore. The ton liked to move on quickly to the next piece of gossip after all.

‘Good day, Colin,’ Penelope greeted, her voice betraying none of her inner turmoil.

Colin swallowed. ‘Good day, Pen. Are you quite well?’ he asked, frowning in concern. ‘You looked a little…troubled.’

Penelope’s eyes widened slightly, and she began shaking her head at once. ‘Oh, it is nothing. I am most well,’ she replied, trying to sound convincing as she forced a smile.

Colin tried to smile back at her, though it came out as more of a grimace. ‘I am glad to hear it. You look very nice today, by the way. W-well, you always do, but…your hair, and the blue, it…’ He trailed off, his mouth moving wordlessly as he took in the dazed look in her eyes, and he cleared his throat, embarrassed. ‘Forgive me, I am rambling.’

‘N-no, not at all…thank you,’ Penelope said, her cheeks warming slightly; she was slightly confused, but touched all the same. ‘You are very kind.’

As much as she wished to, she did not really believe his compliments. Colin was simply being unnecessarily generous, perhaps in an attempt to reassure her that all was well and to mend the strained normalcy between them after their kiss a few weeks ago.

Oh, that kiss. It haunted her thoughts, still.

It haunted Colin’s thoughts as well. Even now, as they gazed awkwardly at each other, he could picture her stood in that archway, her face glowing in the moonlight, her hair loose, her breathing loud and heavy as he’d approached…her lips kissing his so tenderly. But he had to accept that Penelope had only asked for that kiss simply because he had been there at the right time, and she had believed herself to be a lost cause. He had been nothing more than a stepping stone, and Penelope had now found what she wanted in the form of Lord Debling, without Colin’s help or approval. There was no point in denying that any longer.

‘I-I should go,’ Penelope then said, her voice faltering.

Colin followed her gaze over his shoulder; her mother was beckoning her urgently from the library doorway. ‘Of course. It has been nice to…to speak with you,’ he said, a note of sadness in his voice, and he paused as he gazed at her. ‘It’s always nice.’

Penelope’s lips parted as she looked at him. Something was troubling him. She could see the pain in his eyes.

Colin looked down, aware that Penelope was searching his face, as if trying to read him. It was only just registering with him that he was no longer her confidant, no longer the one she turned to. Already, the distance between them was palpable, and it would only continue to expand if Penelope followed this path she seemed set on. Who was he, if he was not Penelope’s person anymore? It was the worst kind of pain, to realise that he was chasing after someone so dear who was already growing apart from him, particularly when everything about him now seemed so wrapped around her.

‘Colin, is everything all right?’ Penelope asked; she couldn’t bring herself to leave without knowing.

Colin gulped and nodded. ‘Of course. Perfectly all right. Why wouldn’t it be?’ he said, far too quickly.

It was the most unconvincing answer Penelope had ever heard, but she did not want to press him, not if he didn’t feel comfortable talking to her about it. ‘N-no, of course. Well, then. I shall, err, perhaps see you later?’ she said hopefully.

Colin’s head perked up at once. ‘Wh-where? When?’ he asked, sounding almost desperate.

Penelope raised her eyebrows at him, slightly taken aback. ‘Err…at the next ball, I assume? The Queen is hosting one at the palace in a few days’ time.’

‘Ah, yes, of course. I shall no doubt see you then,’ Colin said with a nod, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. ‘Good day, Pen.’

And with that, he stepped away, his head bent low, his expression forlorn.

Penelope gazed after him for a moment, having never felt more confused in her life, when she was then distracted by her mother practically hissing over at her from across the room. Inhaling sharply, Penelope hurried after her.

Her mother spent the majority of the carriage-ride to Gunter’s Tea Shop speaking of nothing but Lord Debling and what an exceptional – if a little odd – man he was, but Penelope barely heard her. She merely gazed out of the open window, the bustling streets of Mayfair passing by in a blur, while her thoughts swirled.

She wanted to marry. And Lord Debling was nothing short of charming and kind, his pleasant demeanour and genuine interest in her a stark contrast to the dismissive gentlemen she had encountered previously.

Lord Debling was perfect. Absolutely perfect. But there was just one problem.

He wasn’t Colin Bridgerton.

Chapter Text

Dearest Daphne,

I hope this letter finds you well and in good spirits. Thank you for your last one; I am glad to hear that Augie is doing so well. How is confinement treating you?

I am writing to you because I find myself in a most unenviable predicament, one that I can scarcely believe I am confessing even to you, and I have no idea how to navigate it. I need your help, Daph. You helped me through the situation with Marina Thompson, and I pray I can count on your support again now.

You know Penelope Featherington, of course. She has been a dear friend of the family’s for many years, and a steadfast companion for me. Yet recently, things have changed for me. A few weeks ago, Penelope and I shared a kiss. I will not explain the complex reasoning behind this, or I will most likely run out of ink, but please know I was not acting dishonourably. The most important thing of note is that, while unexpected, it awakened something within me and has consumed my every thought. That kiss made me realise that my feelings for Penelope go far beyond friendship, and perhaps always have.

Alas, Penelope is now being courted by a gentleman by the name of Lord Alfred Debling. He is everything I am not: a man of greater means, higher status, incredible wealth, and undeniable kindness. When I see her with him, her eyes light up and her joy appears genuine.

What am I to do, Daphne? Should I tell her how I feel and risk everything? Or should I step back and let her be happy with Debling, even if it means losing her? The thought of losing her as a friend, let alone as something more, is unbearable. But staying silent feels equally wrong.

I need your advice, Daph. You have always been the wise one in matters of the heart, and I could really use some of your counsel right now. How do I handle this without making a complete mess of things?

Please write back soon. I am lost without your guidance.

With all my love,

Colin

Colin swayed slightly where he stood as he read over the long, emotional letter he had penned to his beloved sister.

He was rather drunk; he’d started helping himself to the brandy in the study from the moment he had returned from the library opening earlier this evening. Hours had gone by since then, and he had spent most of them writing the words on the page now clutched in his hand while drowning his sorrows. But the words seemed rather pathetic now, and hopeless.

In a fit of bitter frustration, Colin then threw the letter away into the roaring fireplace. What would have been the point in sending it? Why couldn’t he accept that he was already too late to change anything, and that Penelope did not feel as he did?

After watching the letter burn, he grabbed the decanter on his desk, but found that there was no more amber liquid left to pour. So, unable to think of what else to do, Colin grabbed his long brown coat, trudged unsteadily from the house and set off into the night. He was in need of distraction – or, better still, oblivion – now more than ever.

He wasn’t really aware of what he was doing or where he was going as he wandered the streets. He let his feet take him where they felt he needed to go, and ended up stumbling half-intoxicated into the brothel tucked discreetly away at the far end of town. He handed over some coins while barely even looking up, and before he knew it, he found himself being led into one of the private suites by a pair of slender, eager courtesans, naked from the waist up.

Colin couldn’t quite fathom why exactly he had turned up here of all places, though deep down he supposed it was for a multitude of reasons, really. It was a way to try and forget about Penelope, even if just momentarily, and stop those all-consuming feelings; surely the easiest way to bury his pain and replace those emotions was through physical distraction, after all. It was also the only thing left for him to do, now that he had lost Penelope to Lord Debling; he needed to return to the cavalier lifestyle he had been so set on maintaining before his and Penelope’s kiss. He needed to put the mask back on and prove to himself that he could still be the man society wanted him to be, even if doing so meant that he was hiding.

The problem was, the mask did not seem to want to fit as easily as it had done before.

One of the courtesans – he was fairly sure she had introduced herself to him as Mary, though he couldn’t be sure – reached up to kiss him as the other woman relieved him of his coat. Colin barely noticed.

The two of them dragged him over towards the bed, and Mary began to unbutton his waistcoat while the other courtesan kissed him slowly, though his lips felt nothing at her touch. He then noticed that the second courtesan had red hair fixed in very tight curls, similar to how Penelope’s used to have been before she’d had a change in style. The moment Colin realised this, he lost what little appetite he’d had at once, and all he could do was glance around blankly.

He didn’t understand. He had two beautiful women at his disposal, touching him and giving him all their attention, and yet he had never felt anything more unintimate in his life, and he couldn’t even bring himself to touch them in return. He felt utterly numb.

Colin gazed into the distance as they both pulled down his braces and began to tug off his shirt. Mary then kissed him deeply, pressing her body to his, and they both began to nuzzle him, their hands stroking his bare chest, their lips caressing his neck and shoulders…and all Colin could do was stare off. Their kisses and strokes did nothing for him. In fact, they repulsed him. There was no emotion, no warmth, no magic. He had already experienced the best with Penelope, and nothing else could compare to it after that; his mind and heart were too filled with the memory of their kiss. Of her.

Mary had reached downward to his breeches, but soon leaned away, clearly realising that Colin was not at all present in the moment, and looked him up and down. ‘Are you quite well?’ she asked. ‘You appear...-’

‘I am afraid my enthusiasm is elsewhere this evening,’ Colin said, somewhat awkwardly.

There was no point in pretending otherwise; everyone in this room knew that he would not be able to perform anyway, given his blatant disinterest. He had hoped he would feel better by escaping and ignoring the torment in his mind, but he just did not want to be here at all. It was haunting how something that had brought him joy mere weeks ago now made him feel utterly empty. Although, had he ever really enjoyed it? Or had he just been fooling himself into thinking it was what he wanted?

‘So you would prefer to watch?’ Mary said suggestively. ‘You have already paid.’

Colin looked between them both. Truly, he couldn’t imagine anything worse or more degrading. He would much rather flee from this establishment and never return, for he had never once belonged here.

Nevertheless, he did not want to be rude.

‘Fine,’ he said eventually, giving them a reluctant smile as he backed away from them both.

The red-headed courtesan led him towards the settee against the wall and pushed him onto it; Colin sat down while the two women settled onto the bed facing one another, casting him playful glances before turning their attention to each other. Mary buried her face between the other woman’s breasts and began to kiss her skin.

Colin turned away, disgusted with himself, and stared off with an unfixed gaze as the courtesans giggled and pleasured one another. He swallowed. He had never felt so terribly lost before. It was as if his one last desperate attempt to stay in denial had failed, and the act had come crumbling down. He could not keep pretending that this was what he wanted; being promiscuous was just not who he was at heart. Yes, physical relations felt good, but what about love? Yearning? The connection of souls? The feeling of being seen? The feeling of home? He was a hopeless romantic deep down, he always had been, and now that he knew that life could hold so much more he no longer wished to participate in or watch something that was merely physical.

He continued to gaze off into the distance, completely unaware of what was unfolding on the bed before him, his face filling with fear. He didn’t know what to do. His new persona was no longer an option; he just couldn’t keep it up anymore. And he couldn’t hide from his feelings for Penelope, no matter how hard he tried. His future had never seemed more uncertain for Colin than in that moment. He could not have the life he wanted with the woman who filled his heart, but he also couldn’t have the life of playing a part, not anymore.

So where did that leave him?

Colin already had the answer to that: nowhere, and with absolutely nothing.

***

Penelope awoke with a sense of impending doom and dread knotted in the pit of her stomach. The early morning light filtered through the delicate drapes of her bedchamber, but even the beauty of the new day did little to soothe her troubled mind or ease the tightening of her chest.

She had been tossing and turning all night, haunted by her conversation with Lord Debling in the library yesterday.

He is going to propose.

It was a prospect that filled her with more anxiety than joy, which was maddening. She should be thrilled about this – Lord Debling was kind, wealthy, and respectable – and she knew she had to be practical. He was a good match. But her heart refused to cooperate; it would always still yearn for another.

She spent the morning pacing her room, her thoughts in disarray. The walls seemed to close in around her, the air too thick to breathe, the silence too loud to bear. She was beginning to feel slightly dizzy.

Penelope shook her head violently and groaned. She had to escape the house, if only for a moment.

Throwing a shawl over her shoulders, Penelope then slipped out of the house, without even alerting Rae, hoping the fresh air outside would clear her mind.

As she stepped outside, the world seemed to spin around her. She crossed Grosvenor Square and focused on her breathing, attempting to steady herself. The sky was a clear, brilliant blue, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the nearby trees. She had hoped the walk would calm her nerves, but instead, her heart leapt into her throat when she saw none other than Colin approaching from across the street; he seemed to have been striding directly towards her house.

They both froze when they saw each other, their eyes widening, neither of them sure of what to do. Then, as if drawn by an invisible force, they moved towards each other, meeting in the middle of the square.

Colin stopped before Penelope, and his parted lips began to smile as he took in the sight of her. She looked angelic, with her hair lovely and down, her lips a rosy red, her cheeks soft and pink. Her dress, a pale green that hugged her beautiful figure, made her look even more radiant in the morning light, its matching shawl glistening as she twisted it anxiously around her arms.

‘Penelope,’ Colin said, sounding pleasantly surprised.

Penelope felt her breath hitch at the sight of him, his familiar features both comforting and heart-wrenching. ‘Colin. Wh-what are you doing here?’ she asked, her heart pounding in her chest.

Colin hesitated for a moment. ‘Oh, I…I came to return this.’

He produced a small, familiar object from his coat pocket – it was a delicate, emerald green hair clip, one she recognized immediately.

‘I believe you dropped it. At Lady Danbury’s ball, at the start of the season,’ Colin said, swallowing slightly as he remembered their rather hostile encounter from that night. ‘I meant to return it to you before, and I…I kept forgetting.’

He had kept a hold of that headpiece for reasons he had not understood at the time, but now Colin knew why. He had been clinging to Penelope for weeks, not wanting to lose any part of her. But now he was forced to accept that it was time to let her go.

‘Oh, I see,’ Penelope said, and she took the clip from him, her fingers brushing against his ever so slightly. ‘That seems so very long ago now.’

‘Indeed,’ Colin said, his expression turning sombre. ‘A lot has changed.’

Colin’s voice was tinged with something Penelope couldn’t quite place. Regret? Longing?

They stood in awkward silence for a moment, the weight of unspoken words hanging heavily between them as they dwelled on all that had changed between them these past few weeks. They had tried and failed to keep their distance since their kiss, at Penelope’s insistence – especially with Lord Debling publicly courting her – but she missed Colin’s friendship, his laughter, his comforting presence, their familiarity. Colin felt just the same; he himself had always been the one to lift everyone’s spirits ever since his father’s death, but no one lifted his spirits quite like Penelope did. They were lost without each other.

‘How are you?’ Colin asked softly, his voice gentle, his concern evident in his eyes. ‘We did not get much chance to speak yesterday at the library.’

‘I’m…’

Penelope hesitated, the words catching in her throat. She knew she should tell him that Lord Debling had sent word to the house arranging to visit her mother tomorrow morning, most likely to ask her permission to propose, but she couldn’t. She just couldn’t. Because then Colin would congratulate her, and that would just devastate her completely. The last thing she wanted to hear from him was how happy he was for her that she was going to marry someone else.

‘I am well,’ Penelope said eventually, forcing a smile. ‘How are you?’

Colin’s gaze faltered. ‘Oh, I’m…’

He trailed off awkwardly. What could possibly be his answer to that? That he was unhinged, possessed, overwhelmed with jealousy and longing and yearning? That he was in absolute agony?

He cleared his throat and averted his gaze. ‘Err, my apologies, Pen, but I should go,’ he said awkwardly. ‘I have much…business to attend to.’

Penelope frowned at him, confused. ‘Business?’

‘Yes, I…until Anthony returns from Devon, Benedict is in charge of the estate so…there is much paperwork and accounts to deal with, and meetings with tenants and so on. I have offered to help,’ Colin explained, shuffling awkwardly on the spot. ‘Well, you know me, I always need something to do.’

Penelope nodded in understanding; she could vividly remember just how aimless Colin had felt last season, and how he had talked to her openly of his struggles to find a purpose.

‘I see. How commendable,’ Penelope said, and a soft smile briefly flashed on Colin’s face. ‘Your brother seems very happy. With his new Viscountess.’

‘Yes, he is,’ Colin said, his tone wistful. ‘I have never seen him so happy, in fact. Kate has brought him back to life. Theirs is a marriage few can hope to experience, I believe.’

Penelope’s lips parted as she took in his words. ‘How very touching. And sad,’ she replied, and her voice wavered slightly.

‘I did not mean…’ Colin began, then he sighed and closed his eyes briefly before forcing himself to look at her. ‘I am sure…you will experience the same, Penelope, when your time comes. You deserve every bit of it, and more.’

Colin’s words were sincere, but his frown betrayed his uncertainty. He didn’t think that Lord Debling would be able to provide that for her, especially knowing now that Debling would be leaving for his studies abroad.

Yet, Colin also knew that he himself might not be the answer she sought. He knew that Penelope deserved better than him. He had shown up far too late and had taken her completely for granted for years, never showing her how much he cared. But that still didn’t stop him from hoping that there might be a chance, even now.

Penelope’s heart ached at his words; she wanted to believe him, but doubts clouded her mind. ‘Sometimes I am not sure I do,’ she said softly. ‘But I thank you for saying it, Colin. And thank you, for returning this.’

She held up the hair clip, and as she did so she suddenly found herself wishing that she could go back to that night of the Four Seasons Ball so that they could start all over again, and see if there was still a chance for the two of them to find their way to one another.

‘You’re most welcome,’ Colin said, his voice strained, and he bowed his head at her. ‘Good day, Pen.’

With hesitant nods and somewhat sad smiles, they then turned away, both hearts heavy, each step pulling them further apart. As they walked back to their respective houses at opposite ends of the square, they both glanced back to look longingly at each other’s retreating figures. But of course, neither of them caught one another’s gaze as they turned back – they kept missing one another by mere milliseconds, for that was the sad irony of two dear friends who were so close yet so far; their hearts called for one another yet neither of them was quite on the same page.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, with Colin spending most of it either checking over some ledgers for Benedict or reading gloomily in the corner of the drawing room while Hyacinth and Gregory played catch with Newton. It was a relief when darkness fell and it was time to join his ‘friends’ for their planned night of revelry; last night’s excursion may have been a failure and Colin could now confidently swear off women for the rest of his life, but nothing could ever go wrong with alcohol. He could count on a few steady drinks to distract himself with.

He met Lords Wilding and Staunton at Will’s club, which was nestled just on the outskirts of Mayfair. Its members were comprised of a whole variety of men across London, from wealthy aristocrats to working members of the middle class, who came to drink and socialise over cigars and aged brandy.

Lord Fife had come to join them, which instantly dampened Colin’s mood – he had resented Lord Fife ever since he had learnt that Penelope had overheard the comment Colin had made in response to Fife’s jibe about him and Penelope dancing last season – and soon the four of them were mildly inebriated and laughing rowdily as they regaled each other with sordid tales. Well, three of them were, anyway. Colin merely sat there, looking bored and saying nothing aside from the occasional noncommittal grunt to show that he hadn’t fallen asleep.

The three lords were currently laughing about something, though Colin could not recall what had been said that had been so amusing. He was barely even aware of the topic of discussion; instead, he was preoccupied rubbing the scar on his palm from where he had cut his hand on the lantern with Penelope as he tried but failed to stay alert. He wanted to ignore their sneers and derisive laughter, to pretend that it didn’t bother him, but with each second that passed it was becoming more and more impossible.

‘On my grand tour, I encountered this Greek girl in the Balkans,’ Lord Stanton was saying, while the other chuckled away indulgently. ‘My bear leader looked the other way while we became acquainted for six months straight, all over the peninsula.’

Colin barely refrained from rolling his eyes as Lord Stanton spoke, and he could feel his jaw twitching as he watched Stanton with a stone-faced expression. Why were the others laughing? What was even funny about such a story?

Lord Wilding then leant forward, keen to add his insight. ‘She sounds like the young woman who made my time in the French Quarter worth the length of the voyage. Much to offer upstairs, and I do not mean her mind.’

The other men laughed loudly, but Colin’s face fell and his knuckles whitened. He felt horrified by Wilding’s derogative words. Had he always been like this, and Colin had just been so focussed on fitting in and coming across well that he hadn’t stopped for one moment to notice the behaviour of those around him? Had they always encouraged the complete objectification of women in this way?

Regardless of how disgusting it was, Colin didn’t even remotely understand Wilding’s comment; for him, knowing someone’s mind was what offered true connection with a person. It also made him involuntarily think of Penelope. She was both buxom and intelligent, after all, but he would never disrespect her by talking about her in such a way. Not even his brothers, as rakish as they were – or used to have been, in Anthony’s case – had ever or would ever speak of any woman like that.

Colin turned away and began to stare off sombrely, as if desperate to find an escape. He didn’t want to be here anymore. This was a mistake.

The way these lords kept talking of their conquests so carelessly, and without one hint of respect, made Colin feel rather nauseous. He had tried to be and speak like this at the beginning of the season. He hadn’t liked himself, he had longed for change, and so he had tried to be one of them, and only now was he truly realising just how vile these men were. Why did he even seek out their company? Because they were the popular bachelors of the ton? Because it would make him look better if he associated with them?

Well, he had enough of that. He had had enough of the lying and the acting. He was so tired of trying to fill a void, of longing for more. He no longer wanted to pretend to be someone he was not. He did not like the person he had been playing anymore. In truth, he wasn’t sure if he ever had. And he certainly no longer cared for these men’s approval; the only approval he yearned for was Penelope’s.

He wanted to be the person she had once seen him as, from the letters she had sent him while he had been away on his tour in Greece the other year – the letters he had kept and still read over, even now. He had been a decent man then. He wanted to remember what it felt like to be that version of Colin – the true Colin. Not this pretender.

‘What about you, Bridgerton?’ Lord Fife then asked, eyeing him expectantly, and Colin forced himself to turn back to face his drinking companions. ‘You were gone for quite a while. I am sure the girls of summer made your trip quite fulfilling?’

The men all chuckled, eager to hear more.

Colin forced a small smile. There was nothing he wanted less than to participate in this conversation.

‘I did tell you my story of the Contessa, did I not?’ he said, tilting his head.

He could feel his mask already slipping. He didn’t even see the point in trying to keep it on anymore, not when all his resolve had gone.

‘Ugh, yes, but you did not give details,’ Lord Stanton said impatiently.

‘Well, a gentleman must keep some things to himself,’ Colin said, and they all groaned in disappointment.

‘Oh, come now. I do not see a gentleman amongst us,’ Lord Wilding pointed out, and the others laughed.

‘And I concur with you there,’ Colin said sharply, wagging his finger in Wilding’s direction as he stared hard-faced at the table, his brow furrowed.

And there it was. The mask was off at last.

A stunned pause followed Colin’s words. The three men’s grins faded at once and they stared at him, perplexed. Colin then looked up at them, having only just realised the words that had slipped from his mouth.

‘Oh, forgive me,’ he said, closing his eyes and shaking his head briefly. ‘But it is…tiring, is it not? The necessity imposed on us to remain cavalier about the one thing in life that holds genuine meaning. Do you not find it lonely?’

He looked up at the three of them desperately as he leaned forward, hoping to find some empathy, some connection, some understanding of what he was feeling, this strange revelation that had been unfolding within him these past couple of weeks.

He was simply not satisfied with this meaningless lifestyle the men of the ton had decided was the way to go about things. Sexual intercourse with a woman should be about making love, nothing less; without that emotional connection, it meant nothing. Colin did not want to spend the next few years of his life running from brothel to brothel and bragging about his encounters. It was belittling, and it was utterly pointless. Women were not prizes or possessions or mere vessels to use for pleasure; they were people to cherish, to value as an equal partner, to enjoy one’s life with, to experience true intimacy with. Colin could not imagine exploiting something so sacred.

The three lords regarded him with sceptical, confused frowns on their faces for a moment or two, then they exchanged glances with each other, their faces breaking into wide grins.

And then the laughter started.

Colin felt his heart sink. He had always hated to be mocked, but to be mocked about this in particular, something that was suddenly so important to him, was a crushing blow indeed.

He attempted a small smile and gave a vague nod as he looked away. He felt devastated deep inside. These men were no friends of his. He had nothing in common with them, and no matter what he did they would never take him seriously.

All that hard work he had put in simply to try and avoid being laughed at by everyone…what a waste of time that had been. And yet, right now, Colin could not find it in himself to even care about that anymore. Why should he take notice of what these vulgar men thought of him anyway?

‘Come, Bridgerton, what has come over you tonight?’ Wilding said in bemusement, laughing.

‘Yes, why the long face?’ Lord Fife said, raising his eyebrows teasingly. ‘Too much to drink already?’

‘I think it is the conversation rather than the alcohol, if I am being honest,’ Colin said, his jaw setting, and he did up his jacket button and rose to his feet, scraping back his chair loudly. ‘I shall take my leave. I am suffering from a most disagreeable headache, and I do not wish to put a dampener on your evening. Gentlemen.’

Without looking at any of them or waiting for their response, Colin then turned on his heel and strode briskly away, nodding over in Will’s direction briefly before leaving the club as quickly as his feet would allow without outright running.

He wandered the dark, cobblestone streets, his steps aimless but determined to escape the toxicity he had just left behind. He found himself outside another club, just a few streets away. It was quieter, and exactly what he needed. He walked in, barely acknowledging the doorman’s greeting, and found a secluded corner where he could drink in peace and solitude.

Hours passed, the world outside becoming a blur as Colin drowned his sorrows in glass after glass of brandy, but the warmth of the liquor did little to ease the ache in his chest. He stumbled out of the club in the early hours of the morning, the night air cool against his flushed skin.

It was not much later when Colin trudged through the front door of Bridgerton House with uneven steps. The grand foyer, with its gleaming polished floors and elegant candelabras, felt like a labyrinth. He barely managed to navigate his way up to his bedchamber, leaning heavily on the banister as he ascended the staircase, each step a precarious challenge.

Soon enough, Colin lurched unsteadily into his dark, cold bedchamber and sat heavily on the bed with a deep sigh. He knew from the way he had behaved tonight at Will’s club that he would not be invited to join that particular group of gentlemen for another night of revelry, nor would he ever want to be. In fact, he did not want to go anywhere or speak to anyone – particularly not at any social assembly where he may be forced to watch Penelope and Lord Debling huddled away in the corner. He could not stomach that sight ever again.

While his head pounded relentlessly, he removed his boots and yanked off his cravat, the room spinning before him, and then sprawled back on his bed, the plush mattress doing little to soften the harsh reality of his life crashing down around him.  He simply lay there, staring at the ceiling above with glassy eyes, his mind swirling in a haze of alcohol and regret.

The confident persona he had cultivated over these past few months had been a heavy mask, suffocating and false; it was both a relief and yet also rather terrifying for the mask to be removed. For years, Colin had searched for purpose and meaning. His rash, ill-fated engagement to Marina Thompson had been a desperate attempt to carve out a piece of happiness, to create a family like the one that had always been his greatest joy. Yet, that had crumbled like so many of his dreams.

Anthony had chastised him for the way he was, calling him a foolish child and urging him towards brothels and rougher pursuits, while Marina had dismissed him as a boy lost in fantasies. Their words had stung, cutting deeper than he cared to admit, so Colin had tried to change and put on a façade of stoicism, to fit in with society’s expectations of who a man like him ought to be. He had tried not to care about love or companionship, convincing himself that he was above such frivolities, that the sudden praise and admiration from the ton for his newfound bravado were enough. He laughed louder, drank harder, flirted boldly, and mingled with the popular lords who lauded him as more entertaining than ever before.

But it was all a lie.

Only the women in his life saw through the charade. His mother, with her knowing looks, and Eloise, with her sharp tongue and sharper insight, and Penelope. Penelope, who saw him for who he truly was, even when he could barely see himself.

As he lay on his bed, the thought of Penelope brought a fresh wave of pain. She had always been there, a constant in his life, his best friend, his confidante, the one person who understood him in ways no one else could. The truth was, he had fallen in love with her. He knew that for certain now, and he couldn’t deny it, nor did he want to. Somewhere along the way, his affection for her had deepened into something far more profound, and he couldn’t fathom how it had taken him so long to realise it. Her laughter, her kindness, her unwavering support, her gentle touch, the way her eyes lit up when she saw him – she was everything he had ever wanted, and had become the anchor in his life. But her affections were directed elsewhere, and now he stood on the precipice of losing her to another man. It was unbearable. A tear slipped down his cheek, and for the first time in a long while, Colin allowed himself to feel the full weight of his loneliness.

The room spun as Colin closed his eyes, trying to banish the image of Penelope smiling up at Lord Debling, and he rolled onto his side and curled into a foetal position, his mind replaying every moment he had spent with her.

Love and creating a family, of filling a house with laughter and warmth – those were his true purposes in life, he knew that now. Not the hollow pursuits of societal approval, but the genuine, heartfelt connections that brought meaning to his existence. Being with Penelope, building a life and a family with her, was the path to the fulfilment he had been seeking, even if it was nothing but an impossible dream now.

Nevertheless, dream or not, it could not be denied. When the sun rose in the east, when he socialised with his so-called ‘friends’, when he walked the streets of Mayfair, when he attended soirées, when he dined with his family, when he wrote in his journal, when he spent sleepless nights tossing and turning in bed…all he did was think about Penelope. It was as if he was losing his mind.

He had been on his own for so long, and believed that he had been content with that. After the debacle with Marina Thompson, he had been put off any idea of romance and marriage, after all.  But now the world felt cold and empty, and he was withdrawing into himself.

Colin wondered if this would become the new norm for him, staring at the ceiling in the dark, feeling utterly numb inside, and seeing Penelope whenever he closed his eyes, knowing that he would never touch or kiss her ever again, that he would never know the feel of her wrapped in his arms. It was ironic and somewhat cruel that he had come to realise how much she filled his heart right at the moment when he was forced to let her go.

He had taken her for granted far too much, and this was his punishment – to run out of time…and do nothing but drown beneath a sea of devastation.

Chapter Text

Penelope was pacing agitatedly outside the family drawing room, fidgeting with her fingers, while a servant stood at attention behind her.

Her heart was racing, but not for the right reasons. Lord Debling was in there at present, speaking with her mother. Was her future being decided at this very moment? Was she truly bound for a secure, yet stale, marriage with this man?

The drawing room door then opened, and Penelope’s heart lurched. A footman stepped out, followed by Lord Debling. She had expected him to call at the house today…but, even though it hadn’t really come as a surprise, she hadn’t exactly been best pleased when he had immediately requested a private audience with her mother. Not without speaking to her properly about it first, anyway.

Nevertheless, she offered him a soft smile in greeting.

‘Miss Featherington,’ Lord Debling said, giving her a slight smile and bow.

Penelope curtsied. She looked back up at him at once, trying to read his face, but his expression was inscrutable as he turned and walked away down the corridor to leave.

She watched him go, alarmed. What does this mean? Did he ask her? What did she say?

Her heart pounding, Penelope stepped into the drawing room. Her mother was stood there with her back turned.

‘Mama?’ Penelope said nervously.

Portia turned to Penelope with an impassive expression. Penelope truly couldn’t tell if she was angry with her or not.

After a moment, Portia spoke. ‘Lord Debling has requested my permission…to propose,’ she said.

Penelope felt her stomach drop; she’d known deep down it was the reason for Lord Debling’s visit, and yet to hear her mother say those words out loud made it far more real.

‘Did you give it?’ Penelope asked.

The sensible part of her was hopeful, and yet another part of her deep down felt somehow more nervous that her mother had said yes.

Portia’s face then lit up. ‘Of course I did,’ she said enthusiastically, and she chuckled as she approached Penelope.

Penelope froze for a moment, so stunned she was to see her mother looking at her with such warmth and pride, and then a nervous laugh escaped her mouth as Portia’s answer sunk in.

‘You have done very well,’ Portia said, her arms reaching out to grasp both Penelope’s arms.

She began to steer her over towards the settees in the centre of the room, blissfully unaware that Penelope was breathing unsteadily and pressing a hand to her stomach out of nerves.

‘You know, I have heard that Lord Debling has one of the largest homes in Mayfair, twenty-four staff, a fleet of curricles. And he tells me he travels often, which means it will be up to you to manage his estate!’ Portia said, clearly delighted, as Penelope smiled unevenly back at her. ‘Can you imagine the kind of influence that will give you? The kind of influence it will give...all of us?’

Penelope’s smile faded as she watched her mother sit down before her. Of course, that would be the first thing Portia would think of – to use her new son-in-law’s title for her own gain. Penelope really was just a pawn in the chess game of power in her mother’s eyes now.

Penelope gave a sharp shake of her head and scoffed softly. ‘Mama, I have not said yes yet,’ she said, sitting down in the armchair opposite her.

‘But of course you will,’ Portia said, eyeing her daughter keenly; what possible reason could she have for saying no, after all?

She had done it. She had set out to find a husband, and now she was about to be proposed to. So why did it feel so terrible? The marriage would be comfortable and allow her freedom…not every match was meant to burn with passion and make one feel alive and cherished. Not every match was meant to make one feel like that kiss with Colin had made her feel.

‘His travelling does have its advantages,’ Penelope said in a hesitant tone of voice, ‘I do enjoy my privacy, but...’ She trailed off awkwardly, her hand tapping the edge of the armchair.

‘But what?’ Portia asked, clearly confused. ‘Penelope...you have spent your pin money changing your clothes, your hair, and it has had the desired effect. Lord Debling is a bird in the hand, and a very fine bird at that. Do not become greedy in your success. What more could you want?’

Penelope’s expression hardened. She looked down as she rubbed at the arm of the chair, trying not to let her mother’s words anger her. She did not know what to say. She could still feel her mother’s judgemental gaze on her.

Portia then leant towards her, her face falling as she tried to read Penelope’s face. ‘Oh, do not tell me you are holding out for love,’ she said, almost wearily.

Ever so slowly, Penelope met her mother’s gaze.

How could Portia not understand that love was something Penelope would hold out for? She had grown up in a loveless house, with a father who abandoned her and a mother who emotionally abused her – neither of whom had held any affection for one another during their dismal marriage – and older sisters who could often be just as cruel as Cressida Cowper. And then Penelope had been introduced to the Bridgerton family, and seen what real love and a real family ought to be like. Was it really so wrong of her to want to experience that for herself?

‘Ugh!’ Portia groaned exasperatedly, rising to her feet, and the warmth and softness in her voice immediately disappeared when she next spoke. ‘This is the very reason why I discouraged you from reading. Love is make-believe. It is only in your storybooks.’

But Penelope didn’t want to believe it. She just did not want to.

Portia then stood before her and leant down to her eye level. ‘Do you know what is romantic? Security,’ she said, her words and expression stern as she fixed her daughter with a hard gaze. ‘Be smart, Penelope. And if you will not be, then I will be for you.’

And with that, Portia straightened up and swept from the drawing room, leaving Penelope seething in the chair.

Her mother just didn’t understand. She couldn’t conceive the idea of anyone passing up on such a good marital prospect for a notion as ridiculous and fantastical as love. In Portia’s mind, happy endings did not exist, and love was nothing but a utopia that always faded. It was pointless to have silly delusions about such a thing or wait around for it to come along. Power and influence were what mattered – and, besides, it wasn’t like Penelope had any more options coming her way.

In truth, Penelope couldn’t really find a way to argue with her mother’s points. Security was the most important thing to look for in a marriage. And Lord Debling was ideal in that he would let Penelope get on with her passions and allow her her independence, so she could continue with Lady Whistledown without worrying about him interfering or controlling her. Indeed, a mere practical match was what she had aimed for in the first place for this very reason.

But then Colin Bridgerton had kissed her in the moonlight under the garden archway. And that was all it had taken to reawaken her heart to the dreams she had been so set on giving up on at the beginning of this season.

Penelope craved a love match. She couldn’t help it. She was a hopeless romantic, she always had been, and even if it was silly and unrealistic and fanciful, she couldn’t deny that part of herself forever. She just couldn’t. Not if she was to truly be herself.

She knew she was naïve, but the poetry and novels she read had spoken so irresistibly of how it felt to dance with the one who truly saw you, of how the person you loved would declare that they could not live without you and would forever be there by your side, no matter what. Would Lord Debling be able to give her that? She did not think so. He would be away most of the time, and she would still be alone. He was looking for ‘practical’, not romance. And how could she and Lord Debling ever grow to love each other, when he was so preoccupied with his studies of nature and her heart already belonged to another? How could she live with that?

Then again, how could she be foolish enough to think that she had the luxury of seeking a better option? Lord Debling was a good, kind man, and a safe, steady path to follow. He was everything she had told Genevieve she had been seeking in a match. So, it all couldn’t have worked out better, really.

It just meant that all her dreaming would be at an end.

When she traipsed up to her bedchamber later to begin writing the next issue of Lady Whistledown, Penelope found herself walking, as if in a trance, right up to the desk in her drawer. She slowly pulled it open, and found the batch of envelopes she had been looking for, all addressed to her in Colin’s neat penmanship. She had saved every letter he had written her, from their very first time apart during the off-season as young adolescents right up until all the unopened ones from his travels around Europe prior to this season.

At the time, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to open a single one of this latest batch of letters from Colin, for the heartbreak after his derogatory comment to Fife at last season’s ball had been too raw, and she hadn’t wanted anything more to do with him. But right now, she knew with all her heart that she needed to read them, almost as much as she needed to breathe.

She sat down on her bed, opened the letters and began to read them in earnest, her hand on her chest as she breathed heavily. She let Colin’s poetic words flood her senses, and desperately searched for any kind of sign on the parchment, anything that would help her make her mind up on what her decision should be to Lord Debling…

Dear Pen,

I visited a library in Berlin today; it was vast and filled with books in languages I cannot even begin to decipher. It made me think of you and how you would no doubt spend hours here, lost in the pages.

How is everything back at home? I do miss everyone so very much.

Yours always,

Colin

~

Dear Pen,

Athens is an extraordinary city steeped in myth and legend. I climbed up to the Acropolis and stood in awe of the Parthenon, imagining the tales of old you love so much coming to life around me. The sunsets here are a symphony of colours, painting the sky with hues I have never seen before.

But as marvellous as all this is, I find myself thinking of home, of our walks and talks. Your last letter has not arrived yet, and I cannot help but worry. I hope you are well.

With fondness,

Colin

~

Dearest Pen,

I am writing to you from Vienna! I attended an opera last night; the performance was stunning, you would have enjoyed it. I found myself humming one of the arias today, much to the amusement of my companions.

I have learnt so much about different cultures and histories, but none of it feels complete without sharing it with my nearest and dearest who would so very much appreciate it; you and Eloise, in particular. Your absence is a shadow on these bright experiences.

Are you well, Pen? Your silence worries me more each day.

Yours as ever,

Colin

~

Dear Penelope,

Florence is a dream. The art here is staggering; the works of Michelangelo and Botticelli are even more breathtaking in person. I spent hours in the Uffizi Gallery, completely lost in the beauty of it all. You would have loved it, Pen, especially the way the light falls on the paintings, bringing them to life.

I have been trying to learn a bit of Italian – grazie, prego, arrivederci – though I must sound terribly awkward to the locals. It is amusing and humbling at the same time.

Despite all this beauty, my heart aches for home. I miss my family, and I miss you dearly. Your letters were aways my anchor, but I have still not received one since the end of last season. I hope everything is well with you.

Eagerly awaiting your reply,

Colin

~

Dear Pen,

Paris is everything I imagined and more, each street brimming with stories and history, much like the pages of your favourite novels. I spent hours wandering through the halls of the Louvre, where I encountered the enigmatic smile of the Mona Lisa. Yesterday, I stood before the grandeur of the Notre-Dame, its spires reaching for the heavens. I also attended a salon where they discussed Voltaire and Rousseau; you and Eloise would have been in your element. The food here is an adventure in itself! I tried escargot – yes, snails, can you believe it? – and it was surprisingly delightful.

I miss your wit and encouragement, Pen. Travelling is exciting, but it also makes me realise how much I treasure the familiar comforts of home, and more so, the comfort of your friendship.

I still have not heard from you. I do hope all is well, and I am counting the days until I see you again. Until then, take care.

Yours,

Colin

Penelope closed her tear-filled eyes and put down Colin’s latest letter, feeling somewhat bitter. If only she hadn’t been so stubborn in the off-season in her refusal to acknowledge his letters. If only she hadn’t altered their friendship completely by asking him for a kiss a few weeks ago.

Regretting and longing for what might have been would do her no good now, though, and reading through letters from her childhood friend was utterly pointless. Things were already set in stone with Lord Debling, and it was not fair to compare Colin against him. She had had a taste of perfection with that kiss with Colin, so Lord Debling would always be second best, and despite her best efforts she would probably be thinking of Colin while married to him, she just knew it. She would forever be hopelessly devoted to the sweet boy across the square.

But she had to let him go, now more than ever. She would be a fool to hold on to her unrequited, childish fantasy. Colin would never look at her as anything more than a friend, and Lord Debling was the one suitor who was interested her – a good, kind, safe suitor.

She would be a fool to pass up the opportunity to have a comfortable and independent future with Debling. An absolute fool.

***

The evening came far too soon; it was almost time to start getting ready for tonight’s ball at the palace, but Penelope was still struggling to finish writing the next edition of Lady Whistledown.

She was sat at her writing desk in her silky dressing gown, her red curls falling down her back, as she read over her first draft of the front page’s contents:

Dearest Gentle Reader,

A question: what is the primary force that guides us along our paths? Is it our minds? Or our hearts?

When heart and head are in conflict, every choice may feel like agony. One person in whom thought and feeling are united is Her Majesty, Queen Charlotte. After their meeting at the Hawkins Ball, it seems the Queen’s sparkler, Miss Francesca Bridgerton, may indeed be poised to become the new Marquess Samadani. Of course, whatever maketh our collective hearts swell may yet make them break. The season is still early and oft has a mind of its own.

It is said that the heart is forever making the head its fool. And when one chooses the heart over the head, often, all reason goes out of the window. But the body has a way, indeed, of knowing most what it needs. And this author is not one to deny the age-old wisdom of a beating heart.

Sighing heavily, Penelope then turned from the parchment to the window. It was no good; the sun had set, and Rae would be here any moment to help her start getting ready. She tucked her quill and parchment away in the desk drawer, to return to later tonight when she returned from the ball, and couldn’t help wondering if she would have an announcement to add to this latest Whistledown issue the next time she would come to revisit it. The thought filled her stomach with butterflies, but not the good kind; she was inwardly grateful that she had skipped dinner this evening.

Penelope stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror before her, trying to keep calm. Lord Debling would be in attendance at tonight’s ball. He had secured permission from her mother to ask for her hand, and her mother was telling everyone and anyone that would listen that a proposal was imminent.

All the signs were pointing towards her acquiring a fiancé by the night’s end.

This is good, Penelope told herself. This is very good.

It was perfectly normal to feel dread and nausea on such a night as this, wasn’t it? It was a sign of butterflies…of the joy she would soon be consumed by. It had to be.

Penelope turned her face to the side, examining the reflection of her rounded cheeks and full, pink lips. Her brow tightened. She still did not particularly like what she saw in the mirror, but at least it was better than what it had been before. She blinked and turned away just as there was a gentle knock at the door.

Rae stepped in. ‘Are you ready for me, miss?’ she asked.

Penelope smiled back at her. ‘Yes,’ she said, nodding.

She winced ever so briefly before squaring herself to look in the mirror as Rae approached. She exhaled sharply; tonight might very well be the most important night of her life. She had to look reasonably good for it. Luckily, Genevieve had designed the perfect outfit for the occasion.

Penelope’s gown, a luminous gold-speckled pale blue-green frock, shimmered and shone with every slight movement, casting fleeting glimmers of light against the walls. The gown was simple, with no embellishments, which was rather unusual for Penelope, but she liked that. It was crafted from the lightest of fabrics, devoid of the cumbersome petticoats and ruffles typical of such attire, and floated gracefully around Penelope’s form. Rae adjusted the delicate puffed sleeves of the dress, the faint rustle of fabric the only sound breaking the stillness…until eventually Penelope could no longer bear only her relentless thoughts to listen to.

‘It is an unseasonably hot evening, is it not?’ she said.

‘I quite agree, miss,’ Rae replied, as she deftly smoothed out the shimmering skirts of Penelope’s gown.

Penelope raised her eyebrows hopefully. ‘Would it be terrible of me to forgo the stockings just for tonight? No one would ever see or know,’ she said, the look in her eyes earnest. ‘Those ballrooms are just so stifling at the best of times, and I already feel rather…dizzy.’

Rae paused, considering. ‘It is…not the done thing, but…whatever makes you comfortable, miss,’ she said with a nod and a twitch of her lips.

Penelope nodded in relief, but after a while her shoulders slumped, a sigh escaping her mouth.

Rae frowned in concern. ‘Are you worried that Lord Debling will not propose tonight, miss?’ she asked.

The silence that followed was palpable, and Rae’s hands momentarily stilled.

‘You are worried he will propose,’ she said in understanding.

Penelope’s eyes met Rae’s in the mirror. ‘Is that awful of me?’ she said, and her voice trembled slightly.

‘Not at all, miss. It does you a credit to want to think everything through thoroughly before making such a commitment,’ Rae reassured her, as she began to gently style Penelope’s hair. ‘May I ask…will, err, Mr. Bridgerton be in attendance tonight?’

Penelope’s heart skipped a beat. ‘I-I do not know,’ she said, trying to appear nonchalant as she began to fiddle with the jewellery on the dressing table. ‘Most likely, most people will be, yes. Why?’ she added, almost defensively.

‘I am only curious as to what his reaction will be,’ Rae said in a strange sort of voice, ‘if Lord Debling does indeed propose.’

Penelope stiffened. ‘Well, he will be happy for me, of course, as any friend would be. Wh-why, what are you saying?’ she asked Rae, frowning curiously. ‘What other reaction could he possibly have?’

Rae lowered her gaze. ‘I would not know, miss,’ she said softly. ‘Forgive me, I have spoken out of turn.’

But Penelope shook her head at once. ‘Do not apologise. It is fine,’ she said reassuringly, and she gave Rae a small smile as she continued to work on her hair.

Penelope’s heart felt heavy with resignation as she considered her fate. She knew that accepting Lord Debling’s proposal was the sensible course of action – the only course of action, really, even if it meant it would lead to a half-life of sorts.

It would not be like she had always dreamed of. There would be no shooting stars, no ringing bells, no soaring violins, and there would be no tingle when he touched her hand or intensity in his gaze when he looked into her eyes or passion when – or indeed if – he kissed her. But that did not mean she wouldn’t be content. At any rate, she would certainly be happier than if she were to stay here cooped up with her dreadful mother; she had to take comfort in that.

Rae then finished pinning the final strand of hair in place, and stepped back to admire her handiwork. ‘There, miss,’ she said, smiling. ‘You look wonderful.’

Penelope straightened her shoulders, determined to face the evening ahead with as much grace as she could muster. Tonight would change everything, one way or another. The future looked uncertain, but for now, she had a role to play and a proposal to consider.

She turned to Rae, managing a small, brave smile. ‘Thank you, Rae, as always. I do not know what I would do without you,’ she said, and Rae shook her head humbly. ‘I suppose it will be time for us to go soon.’

Rae tilted her head at her, sensing Penelope’s anxiety. ‘You will be fine, miss. I am sure of it,’ she said kindly.

‘Yes,’ Penelope said, after a moments’ hesitation. ‘Yes, I will be.’

She would be fine. Absolutely fine. Nothing more, nothing less. Although maybe, just maybe, amidst the glittering lights and dances and whispers of the ballroom, she might somehow still manage to find a sliver of the happiness she longed for.

***

The Queen’s Ball was to take place tonight. It was an event everyone in the ton was buzzing with excitement about. Well, everyone except Colin.

He trudged slowly down the stairs of Bridgerton House, utterly exhausted. He was still in his shirtsleeves from last night’s drinking excursions in town and hadn’t shaved. His mother was stood at the bottom of their dimly lit foyer waiting for him, wearing a shimmering, pale lilac gown.

Mrs. Wilson approached her from the side. ‘Your gloves, ma’am,’ she said, handing over a pair of white satin gloves.

‘Thank you, Mrs. Wilson,’ Violet said, and then her eyes widened when she caught sight of Colin emerging on the stairs. ‘Oh, Colin, everyone is in the carriage. Are you not dressed?’

‘No,’ Colin said heavily, grey-faced. ‘I wanted to tell you I should like to stay home tonight.’

His voice cracked when he spoke, as if he were upset – a fact that did not go unnoticed by either Violet or Mrs. Wilson. The two women shared a look and slowly stepped towards him, their gazes stern yet also concerned.

Colin didn’t care what either of them had to say, his decision was made up. He may have let Penelope go, he may have accepted his fate, but that did not mean he had to endure the torture of seeing her by Lord Debling’s side at this ball. He would much rather remain at home where he could lick his wounds alone.

‘Oh, you do not look well,’ Violet said, as Colin scowled down at the floor; he didn’t like being reprimanded, not when he was a grown man. ‘Was it you I heard lumbering in the hallway late last night?’

Violet reached a hand out to touch his forehead but Colin flinched away from her at once.

‘I am...well,’ he snapped, turning away abruptly.

Nothing could be further from the truth, of course, and he knew his mother saw it.

Violet raised her eyebrows at Mrs. Wilson; their housekeeper smiled knowingly and walked away, leaving the mother and son alone.

‘You know...’ Violet began softly.

Colin barely refrained from rolling his eyes. Here we go.

‘You have always been one of my most sensitive children,’ she went on. ‘Always aware of what others need. Always trying to be…helpful or offering a joke to lighten the mood. You so rarely put yourself first.’

Colin forced himself to look at her. She had a kind expression on her face as she gazed at him.

‘I am proud of your sensitivity,’ Violet said.

Colin turned away from her at that last word, his mouth moving agitatedly. Sensitivity. He had been mocked so much for it over the years. It was everything he had been trying so hard not to be these past couple of months since returning to London.

 ‘But living to please others?’ Violet continued, and she paused for a moment, letting the words settle with him, as Colin glanced back at her. ‘I imagine it can be wearying at times. Painful, perhaps. So, I do not blame you for putting on armour lately. But you must be careful that the armour does not rust and set so that you might never be able to take it off.’

She had taken a step closer to him, and her expression had grown more serious. Colin felt rather unsettled by what she was saying; he didn’t like to hear it, but he knew it was true. His mother was full of more wisdom than anyone he had ever known, and he loved her for it. But sometimes the words she had to say were too difficult to bear.

Colin swallowed and looked away, his jaw jutting out. ‘My head is…bottle-weary. Forgive me for lashing out,’ he said, guilt-ridden. ‘I should simply like to rest this evening.’

He just wanted to sleep. At least when unconscious, he could dream of an alternate reality where he was the one courting Penelope, not Lord Debling, and they could kiss in the Featherington gardens for as many nights as they wished.

Violet considered him for a moment, then dipped her chin. ‘Mm,’ she murmured, a hint of a sad smile on her lips.

Colin nodded, grateful that she was not going to force him to go with them tonight, and slowly turned to move back up the stairs. He had only made it a few steps up when Violet called after him, a hint of desperation in her voice.

‘It is only a shame...’ she said, her voice cracking, and Colin came to a reluctant halt, ‘that you might miss the fruits of your labours. I hear Penelope may be getting a proposal tonight.’

Colin spun around to face her, his lips parting in shock.

A proposal? Tonight? Surely she must be mistaken. She had to be.

‘Lady Featherington will not stop telling anyone who will listen,’ Violet said.

‘Tonight?’ Colin said as he stared at her, open-mouthed in utter disbelief.

Violet nodded.

Colin could do nothing but stare for a moment. No. No, no, no, please, no.

He had known it was coming, of course he had. But he hadn’t realised that he would have to contend with this happening so soon. Penelope and Lord Debling had barely been courting a week, after all. But, then again, sometimes courtship was not even necessary when it came to such matters.

When you know, you know, Colin thought bitterly.

He hovered somewhat unsteadily on the stairs, at a complete loss. ‘That is rather quick,’ he said, simply because he could think of nothing else to say in response.

‘Likely because of your help,’ Violet said, watching him carefully, a slight smile on her face.

Colin considered her for a moment. Did she really have to rub it in?

He inclined his head. ‘Hm,’ he murmured, staring off.

‘I do hope you feel better,’ Violet said, her words slow and almost calculating, her eyes glistening somewhat as she fixed him with that penetrating gaze of hers.

She gave him a small smile then turned and walked away to join the others waiting outside in the carriage.

Colin watched her go, frozen on the staircase, wearing a pensive expression. Once she had departed, he turned away, his face falling, his brow furrowing deeply. His eyes began to dart around in a panic.

This couldn’t be. It couldn’t.

But it was utterly hopeless. He knew he had to accept it, as much as he did not want to. This was Penelope’s life, not his, and he had blown his chance. He had let Lord Debling swoop in, when he should have told Penelope how he had felt the moment after their first kiss.

He had no choice but to be a supportive friend and be happy for her. After all…what other option was there?

Chapter Text

The moon rose high over London, its silvery light bathing the grand brick entryway of the royal palace in an ethereal glow as everyone arrived for the Queen’s Ball. A mad crush of several hundred metres of carriages greeted the Featheringtons when they entered through the imposing gate into a vast courtyard, a hive of activity as the most fashionable and influential people of the ton milled about in their resplendent attire.

Penelope and her family stepped out from their carriage, where a rich, crimson carpet stretched out before them, flanked by vivid red floral arrangements and majestic pedestals topped with open flames. They passed through an archway adorned with classic red curtains trimmed with gold rope and tassels, setting the tone for the night’s dramatic theme.

Was it normal, Penelope wondered, to have an intense awareness that one was living a night that would change the course of one’s life forever? She did not think so, yet it was what she was experiencing so vividly now as they entered the palace and took in the enchanting sight of the grand ballroom.

The ballroom had been ingeniously converted into a lavish theatre, especially for the highly-anticipated ballet performance that was due to commence at any moment. Elegant royal boxes lined the perimeter, allowing the elite of London society to watch the ballet in comfort and style. The centrepiece was Queen Charlotte’s grand box, an imposing structure flanked by twin curved staircases and accented by large floral arrangements nestled within the wall niches. Queen Charlotte herself sat, regal and poised, her presence – and rather astonishing wig – commanding the attention of all who beheld her. Draped in opulent silks and adorned with jewels that sparkled like the night sky, her sharp eyes missed nothing, a small smile playing on her lips as she observed the orchestrated splendour of the evening.

The Featheringtons joined the rest of the guests as they gathered around a painted stage in the centre of the theatre set-up, illuminated by candelabras and shimmering chandeliers. The stage floor featured an elaborate depiction of the mythological love story of Eros and Psyche, their tragic and beautiful tale brought to life in stunning imagery. Broken columns, artfully arranged around the edge to resemble ancient Greek temple ruins, surrounded the performance space, adding a mythic quality to the scene.

Penelope took her place near the edge of the stage, her family close behind her, as the music from the string ensemble then swelled, signalling that the performance was about to begin. A hushed silence fell across the ballroom as everyone then turned their attention to the painted stage, and the performance of ‘Eros and Psyche’ began.

A lone male dancer rose gracefully, clad only in form-fitting leggings that accentuated every sinew of his athletic form. Gold paint traced the contours of his back, artfully resembling a pair of delicate wings that shimmered in the light, marking him unmistakably as Eros, the god of love.

At the centre of the stage, the female dancer, taking on the role of Psyche, lay motionless, draped in a flowing purple dress that pooled around her.

Penelope glanced anxiously around the ballroom as she stood watching the performance with her mother and the rest of her family. She could not see either Colin or Lord Debling here – not yet, anyway.

This is fine. It will all be fine.

She turned her attention back to the ballet, trying to concentrate.

On the stage, the male dancer approached his female partner with a fluid, almost otherworldly grace. He knelt beside her, his hand reaching out to caress her face.

The touch seemed to breathe life into her, and Psyche stirred, her body stretching languidly as though awakening from a deep and enchanted sleep. Her eyes fluttered open, meeting his with a tender gaze.

She slowly sat up, and Eros lifted Psyche effortlessly and gently enfolded her slender frame in his arms. The pair spun together and away from one another, their graceful movements in perfect synchrony. They twirled and their hands clasped tightly, and Psyche’s delicate fingers traced the line of Eros’s cheek, her touch both tender and possessive, a silent promise of undying love.

They continued to dance, their every move hypnotising to all who were watching, and the music then swelled to a crescendo, echoing the intensity of their passion. With a powerful yet graceful lift, Eros raised Psyche by the waist, spinning her high above the stage. She arched her back in a display of sublime beauty, her arms spreading wide like wings to the sides, a mirror to the golden ones painted on Eros’s back.

Penelope watched, utterly enraptured and mesmerised by the raw emotion and passion on display in their movements together. The dancers seemed to have a warm and loving glow enveloping them; the same sort of glow that Penelope had seen in newly betrothed partners or old married couples. She had always wished so deeply that she would one day be able to know that glow herself.

As their dance continued, Psyche perched herself on Eros’s shoulder, their bodies moving in perfect harmony. They turned slowly and Eros then gently set Psyche down, cradling her in his arms as though she were the most precious treasure in the world. They remained entwined, their breaths synchronised, as the final notes of the string ensemble faded into the night.

Penelope gazed at them both with glistening eyes and softly parted lips, and she exhaled rather shakily as she watched the performance come to its beautiful end.

She had been trying so desperately to hide away the true romantic within her, but in that moment she realised she couldn’t deny that part of herself forever. She wanted it all. She wanted the violins, the butterflies, the shooting stars…because what was the point in life without love? It would be like the seasons without spring, or books with empty pages, or music with no rhythm. Penelope could not live like that. She just couldn’t.

The audience, spellbound, then erupted into rapturous applause, breaking Penelope’s reverie and bringing her back to reality.

The two dancers turned to the Queen in her box and took their bows. The Featheringtons all applauded heartily, while Penelope clapped stiffly beside them, lost in thought. She knew that she was being stubborn and impractical for thinking that she couldn’t enter a loveless marriage, but she wanted to stay true to herself – and that meant holding onto her dreams and never settling for less, even if that in turn meant ending up alone.

Out of nowhere, Lord Debling then materialised before her, making Penelope’s stomach lurch uncomfortably. 

‘Miss Featherington,’ he greeted, bowing to them. ‘Lady Featherington.’

Penelope smiled and curtsied. ‘Good evening,’ she said softly.

‘Have you come to steal away my daughter for a dance, Lord Debling?’ Portia said pointedly, placing her hands on Penelope’s shoulder, and Penelope’s smile grew more strained. ‘I do believe she has at least one spot left on her dance card.’

‘Many, in fact,’ Penelope said, chuckling as she held up the empty dance card on her wrist.

‘In that case, may I have the honour of taking one of your spots?’ Lord Debling asked.

Penelope’s expression softened. ‘The honour’, he’d said. He considered it an honour to dance with her. How could she have the nerve to complain or want more when he was so terribly nice?

She nodded and offered him the dance card tied to her wrist.

Penelope glanced back at her mother, who had never looked more enthusiastic about anything, and she fixed her with a keen stare. It was somewhat pleasant, to see her mother be proud of her for once. But it was also disheartening to know that it was only because of a man.

Penelope turned back to Lord Debling, smiling nervously. She wasn’t keen to dance right away; her mind was still whirling after her revelation following the ballet performance, and the sooner they danced, the sooner Lord Debling would broach The Conversation. She wasn’t quite ready for that yet.

Although, did one ever feel ready to make a decision that would alter the course of one’s life forever?

***

Colin sat alone at his study desk, the soft glow of candlelight causing shadows to flicker across the room as he gazed absently at the untouched plate of food and scattered papers before him. Outside, the night was quiet, save for the distant hum of a city that never truly slept. The clock ticked steadily, but the passage of time felt irrelevant as his mind wandered far from the opulence and grandeur of this season’s countless balls and soirées.

He had retreated to his study the moment his family had left for the Queen’s Ball and opened a new page of his journal, in the hope that writing down his thoughts would help dull the pain of his mother’s earlier announcement, but no words came to mind that could describe his anguish. He simply sat at his desk, gazing off into the distance, feeling utterly useless.

His mind was a whirlwind. The very real possibility that Penelope was about to become engaged to another had practically paralysed him with both fear and agony. He couldn’t bear it. It was too unthinkable for words.

Colin’s eyes flickered over to the lantern on the desk as its flame waned and went out, and he cast his mind back to that moment, what felt like so very long ago now, when he had accidentally smashed the old one and Penelope had immediately rushed to his aid when his hand had started bleeding.

‘Damn!’

‘Let me.’

He remembered how it had felt to feel the touch of her bare skin as she’d cradled his hand, how soft her skin had felt, how gentle her touch had been…how much he longed to touch her again and yet knew he never would.

Unbidden, he found himself casting his mind further back, reflecting on the countless shared moments that had quietly bound the two of them together over the years…moments that now tugged at his heart with bittersweet longing…

He remembered vividly the night of the Featherington Ball at the end of last season – before he had made the fatal error of speaking with Lord Fife and his cronies. Amidst the swirl of dancers and the glittering candlelight, he had seen Penelope standing alone on the edge of the dance floor, her eyes downcast. Without a second thought, he had crossed the room, his heart pounding with an unspoken urgency to tell her of her cousin’s fraudulent scheme that he had just uncovered.

‘Come with me,’ he had whispered, grabbing her hand.

The surprise in her eyes had quickly melted into trust and adoration as she followed him, their fingers intertwined. The sensation of her hand in his, warm and trembling, had ignited something deep within him even then, something he had not yet understood.

Another memory then surfaced, one that left him somewhat breathless. He had returned from his tour of Greece last season, tired and weary, only to walk into the Bridgerton drawing room, expecting the usual familial chaos, and found Penelope there, her soft smile like a beacon. They had exchanged numerous letters while he had been away, Colin trying to offer comfort about the death of Penelope’s neglectful father and writing tales of his time hopping from island to island, and Penelope providing Colin with adorable insights to her days and books while encouraging him to keep going with his adventures – and yet, despite their regular correspondence, it had felt as if it had been years since they had last spoken. Their eyes had met in the drawing room, and in that instant, time seemed to have stood still, the world narrowing down to just the two of them as Colin froze, captivated by her gaze. The dazed, smitten look they had exchanged had spoken volumes, yet neither of them had realised it.

Colin didn’t understand; how could he not have realised his feelings then? It was so obvious now, looking back.

Colin’s thoughts wandered further back, to a moment that had touched him deeply yet now filled him with deep guilt and regret. He remembered Penelope’s earnest eyes as she had tried to dissuade him from making such a rash decision in marrying Marina Thompson.

‘You really are very good, do you know that?’ he had said, reaching out and holding her hand.

The evident sincerity of her concern for him, the warmth of her touch, the realisation of just how deeply she cared, had grounded him in a way he hadn’t expected. It was then that he seen just how deeply he valued her friendship, how much her opinion mattered to him, how her presence brought a sense of clarity and comfort – even if he had been foolish at the time in not taking her words seriously. If only he had listened to her then about Marina, he would have been saved a whole lot of humiliation and heartache.

A chuckle escaped him as Colin then recalled another ball, and the playful banter they had shared when Penelope had made a rather suggestive jest that had caught him entirely off guard.

‘Penelope…what a barb!’ he had teased, genuinely impressed by her wit.

But something had changed in that moment. He had forgotten himself and ended up staring at her a little too long than was strictly necessary or indeed appropriate, his admiration slipping into something more profound. Penelope had gazed back at him, her own surprise evident, and for a heartbeat, there was only the two of them in the ballroom, dazzled and dazed. Again, Colin was incredulous that he had not been able to see it even way back then.

And then there was the first ever ball Penelope had attended as a debutante. Cressida Cowper’s cruel behaviour in deliberately spilling that drink all over her pretty pink gown had threatened to ruin Penelope’s evening, but Colin had intervened, taking her hand and leading her to the dance floor. It had been her very first dance in public, and he had been determined to make it memorable. They had laughed and danced with a joy that felt like freedom, their riotous happiness infectious to all around them. He could still hear the sound of Penelope’s laughter and see her bright eyes sparkling with delight, as they spun around together. He would give anything to return to that dance floor with her now, to spin around buoyantly with her without a care about who was watching.

Colin exhaled deeply as he sat back, and smiled to himself. As sad as it was to think of Penelope nowadays, reminiscing on the good old days of their friendship, before his heart had made things so messy and complicated, made him feel rather warm and pleasant inside.

He recalled vividly one rainy afternoon with Penelope when he had been around fourteen. It had been his late father’s birthday, a day that always brought a sombre mood to the Bridgerton household, and the weight of Edmun’s loss had pressed heavily on his young shoulders. It was Penelope who had found Colin hiding away in a quiet corner of the garden, tears he couldn’t contain slipping down his cheeks as he sheltered under a tree. She had been visiting to play with Eloise at the time, but seemed to know that Eloise had not been the only one who needed cheering up. Penelope hadn’t said much; she had simply sat beside him and held his hand, a small gesture that had anchored him when he’d felt adrift in a sea of grief. When he had finally found the courage to speak, she had listened with a sensitivity beyond her years, her small hand gripping his in silent support, and in that moment, he had felt understood and less alone.

A smile tugged at Colin’s lips as another memory came to him, one of sweet young Penelope’s eyes lighting up as she had rushed up to him at the park, practically shining with excitement, to chatter excitedly about her new favourite novel that she was reading. She had been so animated as she had gushed about the characters, the plot twists, and the romance, and Colin had listened, captivated not so much by the plot of the novel, but by the joy and enthusiasm in her giddy voice and sparkling eyes. Her love for stories had always fascinated him, and he had found himself enchanted by her every word.

His thoughts then drifted to a sunny afternoon at Aubrey Hall in the off-season; Penelope had been visiting with her family, and he and Eloise had invited her to join in a game of pall-mall with the rest of their siblings. Penelope had hesitated at first, unsure if she would fit in. But Colin had insisted, pulling her into the fray, and she had soon got into the spirit of the game, her laughter ringing out as she navigated the tricky course. They had laughed and teased each other, the competitive spirit of the Bridgertons infecting her as well. The memory of Penelope’s triumphant cheer when she had managed a particularly difficult shot still made him smile. By the end of the game, she had become as much a part of the family as any of his siblings. It had been one of those perfect days, filled with sunshine, laughter, and the simple joy of being together.

Other memories followed in a gentle cascade. Colin remembered a winter’s day, less than a year after they had first met, as the two of them built a snowman in the Bridgerton garden. Their cheeks had been flushed with cold, their breath visible in the frigid air. Penelope’s laughter had rung out, clear and bright, as Colin had playfully thrown a snowball at her, and they had tumbled into the snow, the world outside their little bubble forgotten – at least, until Eloise had dashed over to join them in their fun.

He remembered one time when their families had visited a museum together, and Colin had expressed his fascination in finding out more about these ancient cultures whose artifacts were on display, and Penelope had been the one to first plant the seed of travel in his mind.

‘I can imagine you being a wonderful explorer,’ she had said.

From that day on, she had always encouraged him to pursue his interests in travelling and exploring the world.

He thought of all the countless social gatherings and parties he and Penelope had attended as young adolescents, where they had always found a way to be near each other – when Eloise wasn’t keeping Penelope all to herself, anyway. They had laughed and gossiped, they had hidden behind curtains so that they could whisper and giggle about the latest scandals, and they had talked about everything and nothing. It had been Colin’s favourite thing to do, just to spend time with Penelope.

What a blind fool he had been to not realise what it all meant.

Colin then leaned back in his desk chair with a wistful sigh as he found himself drifting back to that fateful day in April 1805. He had been twelve years old, still far from coming of age, and the world had seemed vast and full of possibilities. The memory was as vivid as if it had happened only yesterday…

~

Hyde Park was teeming with vibrant energy. It had been raining ferociously earlier this morning but now the sun had come out, the flowers were in full bloom, and the air was filled with the chatter and laughter of London’s esteemed ton.

Colin felt the exhilarating rush of the wind as he galloped along on his chestnut horse, pushing the limits of speed and decorum. His laughter echoed through the trees, the sheer exhilaration of the ride making him forget everything else.

Unfortunately, his carefree joy was abruptly interrupted when the wind then picked up with an unexpected gusto; before he could react, a bright yellow bonnet had flown straight through the air, fluttering wildly before smacking right into Colin’s face, obscuring his vision in an instant.

Blinded, Colin let out a startled shout, losing control of the reins. His horse reared back, the world tilted, and he tumbled from his horse, landing in a nearby muddy puddle with a spectacular splash.

He lay there for a moment, stunned and covered head-to-toe in mud, the bonnet still clinging to his face. A gasp then pierced the air, breaking through his haze of confusion, and he heard the rapid patter of footsteps approaching.

Colin looked up, wiping the mud from his eyes; a short, slightly plump girl, around ten years old if he had to guess, was rushing over to him, her steps quick and uncertain, her eyes wide with concern. She had vibrant red curls and wore a garish gown embellished in dramatic floral patterns; the colour of the gown, interestingly enough, was a perfectly matching shade of the bright yellow monstrosity that had just knocked him off his horse.

‘Oh, my goodness, are you all right?’ the girl squealed, her words tumbling over each other in a high-pitched, breathless rush as she looked down at him, smeared completely with mud.

 Colin looked up at her face, flushed and anxious, and saw that she appeared to be struggling to keep it together while his horse neighed grumpily beside them.

Then, as if unable to contain herself, the girl burst into laughter; it was a loud, joyful sound that she quickly tried to smother with her hands, though her eyes were still dancing with mirth.

Colin, initially mortified, couldn’t help but join in the girl’s laughter; the ridiculousness of the situation was too much to ignore.

Colin pulled the bonnet off his face. ‘Well,’ he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he wiped mud from his cheek, ‘I suppose I’ve made quite a fool of myself there, haven’t I? My mama will not be best pleased.’

The girl giggled, shaking her head, and covered her mouth again, as if appalled with herself for laughing so uncontrollably.

When she finally found her voice, she stammered, ‘I’m so sorry! It was the wind, it took me completely by surprise! I mustn’t have fastened my bonnet on tight enough.’

‘It’s perfectly fine, truly,’ Colin reassured her, a bemused smile playing on his lips. ‘No harm done. Though, I dare say my pride is a bit bruised.’

The girl extended her hand to him, her cheeks pink, her eyes still twinkling with amusement. ‘Here, let me help you up. It’s the least I can do.’

Colin considered the young girl for a moment, then smiled. Their fingers brushed as he accepted her offer, sending a curiously warm tingle through him.

He rose to his feet, attempting to brush off the clumps of mud that clung stubbornly to his clothing. He glanced around and was pleased to see that not many people appeared to be promenading near this part of the park; he might even be able to get away with his brothers not finding out and teasing him relentlessly about this. He turned back to the girl and couldn’t help but notice the delighted, almost mischievous look still on her face; she seemed immensely pleased with the entire situation.

‘I’m sorry for laughing,’ she said, in an adorably high-pitched, girly voice. ‘But you did land in the mud so spectacularly. I must say, your horse-riding skills leave much to be desired.’

Colin laughed heartily, the sound ringing through the park. He was impressed; he enjoyed that this young girl, a complete stranger, was teasing him.

‘I assure you, I usually stay firmly in the saddle. Today seems to be an exception,’ he said, wiggling his eyebrows at her. ‘Although, in truth, I’ve had worse falls.’

The girl giggled again. ‘I’m Penelope, by the way,’ she blurted out suddenly, as if the words had been waiting impatiently to escape her lips.

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Penelope…albeit in such embarrassing circumstances. I’m Colin,’ he replied with a polite little bow, his smile widening as they both laughed again. ‘And I believe this is yours?’

He was holding out the yellow bonnet that had blown into him.

Smirking, Penelope reached out and took it gently from him. ‘Th-thank you.’

‘It might have got a speck of mud on it, I’m afraid.’

Penelope glanced at the bonnet in her hands; it was absolutely coated in sopping wet mud. She glanced back up at Colin to see that he was grinning at her. Her responding laughter made Colin feel warm inside; people didn’t normally find his jokes that funny.

Their moment was then interrupted by the arrival of who Colin could only presume, judging from their outlandish outfits and red hair, were her mother and older sisters. They must have been promenading nearby and evidently noticed the commotion. The mother’s eyes widened in horror at the sight of her youngest daughter standing so casually with a mud-covered boy.

‘Penelope!’ the woman scolded, her tone sharp as she marched over. ‘What on earth have you done now?’

She was looking at her daughter with an expression that was both stern and exasperated.

Penelope instantly shrank back, her vibrant personality dimming under her mother’s disapproving glare. The transformation was stark, and Colin felt a pang of sympathy for her.

‘It was the wind, Mama, I could not help it, it was an accident-’

‘Isn’t it always?’ her mother interrupted her wearily, clasping a hand to her head.

Colin stepped forward, his natural boyish charm – even at such a young age – smoothing over the tension. ‘It was entirely my fault, Lady…?’

‘Featherington.’

‘Lady Featherington. I was riding far too fast, and as a result a rogue bonnet and I had a rather spectacular collision, that is all,’ Colin said, feeling rather proud of himself as he glanced at Penelope to see that she was pressing her lips together in an attempt not to giggle again. ‘I simply needed a helping hand to get up.’

Lady Featherington turned to Colin, her tone apologetic. ‘Well, I do hope my daughter did not cause you too much trouble, Mr. Bridgerton. Aside from the, err…’

She indicated the mud all over him, and Colin chuckled, though his smile was strained; it hadn’t escaped his notice that Lady Featherington already somehow knew that he was a Bridgerton. Despite having barely just entered adolescence, he was already being marked as a target by ambitious mamas. Anthony had warned him that this would happen, but Colin hadn’t wanted to believe it. He was far too young to contend with such matters.

‘Not at all, my lady,’ Colin replied with a gracious smile, attempting to brush off the remaining mud with as much dignity as he could muster. ‘On the contrary, your daughter has quite cheered me up. It was a most…amusing encounter.’

He glanced back at Penelope, who was blushing and still pressing her smiling lips together; the sight pleased him immensely.

‘Allow me to introduce you to my daughters, Mr. Bridgerton,’ Lady Featherington then said, gesturing the two slightly older girls beside her. ‘This is Prudence, and Philippa. And you have already met Penelope,’ she added, somewhat reluctantly.

‘It is a pleasure to meet you all,’ Colin said politely, though his eyes quickly returned to Penelope.

There was something about her that captivated him, and she seemed equally transfixed by him. They both smiled fondly at each other.

‘Our family has just moved in across the square,’ Lady Featherington went on. ‘So, I expect we shall be seeing more of each other’s families, now that we are neighbours.’

Colin nodded slowly. ‘I am sure my mother would be delighted to make your acquaintance,’ he replied, though he wasn’t entirely sure if that was in fact true. ‘You must all come by Bridgerton House at some point soon.’

Lady Featherington smiled enthusiastically, clearly impressed with his response.

Colin then turned directly to Penelope, a hint of mischief in his eyes. ‘I have a feeling you would get on splendidly with my younger sister, Eloise.’

Penelope’s eyes lit up at the prospect. ‘Th-that would be…yes, I would very much like to meet her,’ she said keenly.

Her eager response gladdened him; Colin found himself hoping fervently that they would indeed see more of each other.

‘Well, I am afraid I must be going,’ Colin then said, sighing as he shook another clump of mud from his jacket sleeve and glanced around at the passers-by gawping at him. ‘I feel a bath is very much needed.’

Lady Featherington laughed loudly and nudged her two older daughters pointedly, a silent instruction to make them laugh as well; they did so, though it was a very forced, uncomfortable sound. Colin caught Penelope’s eye, and both their lips twitched.

‘Well, it was very nice to meet you, Penelope,’ he said warmly, before turning to her family. ‘And you as well, Lady Featherington, Misses Featherington.’

‘Mr. Bridgerton,’ Lady Featherington said, nodding her head. ‘What a fine young man you will turn out to be, I am sure of it.’

Colin forced a smile at her, trying to appear grateful rather than perplexed by her comment, before turning back to Penelope once more. ‘I do hope we’ll see more of each other soon. Perhaps with less mud involved.’

Penelope’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink. ‘I hope so too.’

And with that, Colin mounted his horse, giving Penelope one last amused smile before taking his leave to head home. As they parted ways, Colin’s heart felt lighter and unexpectedly cheered by the encounter. The day had started as any other, but it had ended with the promise of a new friendship and the delightful memory of a sweet girl with a bright yellow bonnet and a laugh that could light up the gloomiest of days.

So, on he went, his thoughts filled with the bright, unforgettable presence of the delightful Penelope Featherington…with not a single idea of how she would one day become the most important, dearest person in his life.

~

Colin opened his eyes, the present rushing back to him as he sat in the still, quiet solitude of his dark study. It was a wonderful, yet bittersweet, feeling to realise just how integral Penelope had always been to him, how deeply intertwined their lives were.

Those memories were not just fragments of a long childhood friendship, but pieces of a much deeper truth that brought him a sense of clarity. Penelope was so much more to him than a mere friend, she always had been; she was his confidante, his partner in mischief, his source of comfort and joy, the one who had always been there, the one who understand him in ways no one else did, the light that had always guided him even when he hadn’t been aware of it.

And now he yearned for her with a fervour that could no longer be denied.

He glanced back at the lantern on his desk again, and thought back to how she had tended to the wound on his hand in this very room, mere weeks ago. He had been so angry with her at the time for reading his journal, and she had known that, yet she had still cared for him.

He remembered her flushed cheeks, her nervous fluttering gaze, her breathlessness. He remembered her fingers gently caressing his as she gently bandaged his wound, lingering far too long, completely unnecessarily. He remembered the way her pupils had dilated as she met his gaze.

Colin’s lips parted slightly. If he had only seen it at the time, perhaps he would have realised then that their friendship had not been as platonic as he’d previously assumed – for no one looked at a mere friend the way she had done. No one held the hand so tenderly of a mere friend the way she had. And no one asked someone they considered a mere friend to kiss them.

Could it be? Could Penelope perhaps reciprocate his feelings after all, and it was just the case that neither of them had been brave enough to admit it?

But no…she would never have let things get this far with Lord Debling if she had harboured such feelings for Colin…unless she believed him to be indifferent, that was.

Colin’s jaw twitched slightly as he slowly sat up and stared ahead of him, deep in thought.

‘Your writing…it is very good.’

That day, he had initially been so embarrassed when he had realised that Penelope had seen his inner thoughts in his journal. He had expected derision, laughter or pity, if anyone were to ever read his writings, after all, but instead Penelope had nurtured him, and complimented him. She accepted and admired him completely for who he was, and she had shown him that that day – and every other day, really.

Colin’s glistening eyes began to shift. That moment in this room was all it had taken. Just one moment when their hands had touched and their eyes had met, and the spark had been lit. It had only been one day later, when they had kissed under the moonlight in the gardens, when Colin became aware of that fierce flame…a flame that he now knew would never go out.

His heart had known from that moment on that he would be in love with Penelope Featherington for the rest of his life.

Colin then thought back to what Violet had said earlier, and frowned slightly.

She was a sneaky one, his mother. She always knew the right things to say and how to plant the seeds. And she had always, without fail, been able to read Colin as if he were an open book. There was no fooling her; he could tell she knew of his affections for Penelope. She had probably known it for even longer than he had, and then he himself had confirmed her suspicions on the night of the Innovations Ball at Lord Hawkins’ manor. And she knew exactly what she had been doing when she had told him of Lord Debling’s plans to propose this very night.

‘I do hope you feel better.’

She knew he had been miserable and tying himself up in knots over Penelope…and she knew exactly what would make him feel better. Her words had been her way of giving him hope, of giving him a sign, of telling him to realise the truth for himself and to fight for Penelope.

Colin felt strangely calm and relaxed as his thoughts took hold. He should have realised that it was always going to be Penelope. She made him be true to himself, she gave him a thrill just to be near her and be lucky enough to speak with her. She was his everything.

And he could not give that up.

‘He had the courage to ask.’

He did not want to admit defeat and walk away so easily. Penelope was the most precious person in his life, and he could not give up on the two of them, not when there was a minuscule chance of them finally being something. It was worth the risk. He knew that now. The future stretched out before him, and in his heart, he knew it was a future he wanted to share with her. It had always been leading to Penelope.

This was his last chance. Tonight was all he had; if he didn’t do anything now, he would lose her forever, for tomorrow, Penelope would be engaged to another man, and that would be it. Their story and any hope or possibility of a future for the two of them would be over in an instant.

And Colin could not have that.

He wanted Penelope to know the truth. He was tired of hiding it from her, and he needed to know if there was a chance. He needed to know if there was just one tiny part of her that felt as he did.

And he needed to know right now this very moment, or he might very well go mad.

So, Colin got to his feet, almost pushing over the desk in his haste, and ran out into the corridor to summon John, one of their footmen.

‘Please have the carriage readied as soon as possible,’ Colin said urgently. ‘I shall be ready in a few minutes, we must make haste for the ball.’

‘Of course,’ John said, a somewhat knowing smile on his face, ‘right away, sir.’

Colin stared after him as he went, bewildered; it seemed as if John had been waiting expectantly for such an order. Had Violet told him to be prepared for a last-minute journey to the palace, just in case?

Shaking his head exasperatedly, Colin turned to a nearby mirror to check his reflection. His hair was slightly scruffy, and he had not shaved off the light formation of stubble forming on his face, but there was no time to deal with that. He needed to get to the ball immediately, before it was too late.

A touch of the hand and a single kiss had transformed Penelope Featherington from his dearest friend into the only woman he wanted to share his life with. The realisation had struck him with the force of a thousand cannon blasts: his world was Penelope. To deny that truth was to deny the very essence of his being.

He reached for his coat, the fabric stiff under his trembling fingers. His heart pounded urgently as he envisioned the glittering ballroom, the moment he would see her, the words he would say as he risked everything for the chance to call her his. Tonight, he would lay his heart bare, consequences be damned.

His hesitation had cost him precious time, but no longer; Colin was resolved, and he’d had enough of doing nothing. Tonight, he was going to return home from this ball either holding his future wife’s hand or with his heart shattered and his most significant relationship ruined. There was no other option.

So, with a deep exhale, Colin stepped out of the house and towards John with the waiting carriage, determined to claim the future he now knew he could not live without.

Chapter Text

The grand entrance of the palace loomed ahead as Colin’s carriage slowly pulled up into the dark courtyard. He was filled with relief yet also terror when the carriage came to a stop by the red carpet laid out before the entryway. He climbed gingerly out and took a deep breath as he straightened his tailcoat and looked up at the imposing building.

The stakes had never been higher, and the path before him was fraught with uncertainty…but the thought of losing Penelope without even trying to prevent it was a fate he could not endure. This was it. There was no turning back now.

Colin couldn’t remember the last time he had dreamed or wished for anything. But, for once in his life, he wanted something. Someone.

Please, please, please. Let this be the moment everything works out. Let this happen for me.

Steeling himself, he then began to stride forward down the red carpet, nodding at a passing couple as they walked past. To his dismay, he then ran into none other than Lords Fife, Wilding and Stanton; the three of them were evidently on their way out, and were chuckling away as usual.

‘Bridgerton,’ Lord Stanton greeted, as they all eyed him appraisingly. ‘Fashionably late?’

Colin did not even bother to respond; he simply mustered a small smile at them then stepped forward to continue, but Lord Fife held his hand out to stop him.

‘In truth, it is not worth it. Come out with us,’ he said. ‘Though, this time, we are going drinking at White’s instead of that dreadful Mondrich bar.’

It was this that settled it for Colin. He would not stand for anyone insulting women or his friends. Not anymore.

‘Excuse me,’ he said sharply, cutting over their laughter, and with a solemn face he pushed past them, without a single care in the world, and marched inside.

He was sick of those men. They were disgusting people, really. He had let them influence him before at last season’s ball at Featherington House, and it had almost cost him Penelope; he wasn’t going to let that happen again, and he certainly had no patience for playing along with their stupid societal norms and expectations. Acting the way the ton wanted him to act wasn’t going to make him happy. Love, connection, intimacy, encounters that mattered – that was all that was important to Colin.

And that was what he was determined to seek this very night.

***

Inside the palace ballroom, the beautiful painted stage on which the ballet dancers had performed earlier had transformed into the dance floor for the evening. Penelope and Lord Debling were on it now, waltzing to a slow, charming melody, and yet Penelope barely felt present for it.

She had realised, after watching the Eros and Psyche performance earlier, that it was no use. No matter what her mother said, she could not forsake love entirely if she were to marry. To do that would be to deny the very essence of who she was. She could only accept a life with Lord Debling if she knew that love and romance could be a possibility. Perhaps it was silly and childish of her, when she would likely never get such a good offer or such a kind man wanting to marry her ever again…but she had to be true to herself. She had to, or what was the point in all of this?

Her eyes wandered as she and Debling turned on the spot, her heart pounding.  Where was Colin? When was Lord Debling going to pose that important question? What was she going to do?

Her gaze continued to drift aimlessly as she and Lord Debling moved on the dance floor, and it didn’t take long for her partner to notice.

‘Is everything all right, Miss Featherington?’ he asked.

Penelope looked up at him and gave a rather shaky nod. ‘Everything is wonderful,’ she replied, smiling.

‘I am glad to hear it,’ Lord Debling said, smiling warmly back at her.

But everything was not wonderful. Not at all. And she could no longer keep silent about it.

‘May I ask you a question, my lord?’ she asked hesitantly.

‘Anything,’ he said, his tone of voice gentle and sincere, as they continued to dance.

‘Considering how often you travel, it makes a great deal of sense to me that you seek a practical match, but...’ She hesitated for a moment, wondering if she dared voice what had been playing on her mind; she was almost too afraid to hear the answer, but she took a deep breath and asked him anyway: ‘Do you imagine that, with time...love may one day grow?’

Lord Debling’s smile had faded as he thought how best to respond. ‘I do not know,’ he said, and Penelope felt her heart sink. ‘To be honest, my work has such a large portion of my heart, it…may be difficult to make more space.’

He spoke in an almost business-like manner; he was still warm with her, of course, but there was no passion, and very little feeling.

Penelope’s eyes flickered down. She couldn’t even be bothered to control her expression at his response.

Lord Debling seemed to notice her despondency. ‘But…I am very glad that you are someone who seems to have such a full life,’ he continued, his face lighting up encouragingly, as if he thought that would make it all better.

Penelope merely kept her face lowered and stared ahead, her heart pounding uneasily. She was disappointed by his answer, but not entirely surprised.

What was she to do now? Lord Debling was going to propose at any moment. He, her family, and everyone else who knew of their courtship would of course expect her to say yes, without hesitation. She should say yes. She would be absolutely mad not to. There would never be any other man or any other chance like this for a life free from her wretched family.

And yet she knew she wanted more. She wanted the fairytale, she wanted passion, she wanted tears, she wanted desire and promises and fighting and everything a true marriage ought to have.

But sometimes, as Penelope had learnt so many times over the years, people in this world just didn’t get what they wanted.

She could feel her resolve slowly melting as they continued to dance. With Lord Debling, she would not have the love she had always dreamed of. But she would have the comfort of a safe home, an independent lifestyle where she could continue to write, and freedom from her mother and sisters. If she had to settle, then in the big scheme of things, it wasn’t really that bad. Was it?

‘You look especially beautiful tonight, Miss Featherington,’ Lord Debling said warmly, breaking the silence as they slowly rotated on the spot.

Penelope did not know what to say that. She did not know if she wanted to even hear it – not from him, at least, when he had just told her there was not enough room left in his heart for her.

She tried to smile politely in response to his compliment but couldn’t; she was concentrating too hard on trying to control her breathing, for she knew the time was fast approaching when Lord Debling would ask that very important question, and she still didn’t know what her answer would be.

She was so anxious about the remainder of this conversation that she did not notice Colin appearing out of nowhere and walking slowly up the steps towards the dance floor, as bold as brass, with his blazing eyes fixed on her.

Colin hovered on the edge as he watched Penelope and Lord Debling dancing, his heart lurching uncomfortably. Penelope looked breathtaking in a shimmering light teal gown speckled with gold sequins that glowed when the light from the chandeliers above hit it, and her hair was mostly down, with little curls around her ears and small brown flowers fixed in the waves. She looked beautiful…but she also looked troubled. Colin had to take hope from that, as awful of him as that perhaps was.

Judging from both of their expressions, Lord Debling had not proposed yet. But Colin knew it was only a matter of time – perhaps minutes, or even seconds.

Colin was not the sort of man that ever barged in and rudely interrupted a dance between a lady and gentleman. It was not the done thing; in fact, it would be seen as quite scandalous. But Colin was desperate, Penelope was about to say yes to the wrong man, and this was his last chance to stop it from happening. If he did not interrupt them now, he would lose her forever, and he could not allow that – no matter what society had to say about it.

Before he gave himself time to think, Colin let his feet take him right up to Penelope and Lord Debling in the middle of the dance floor.

‘Do you mind if I interrupt?’ he asked politely, as if he were merely asking if either of them had the time.

Penelope felt her heart leap in her chest, horrified, as she and Lord Debling halted and turned to Colin in shock. Lord Debling released his hold of Penelope at once, his expression utterly perplexed as he stared at Colin.

‘Colin, I-’ Penelope began in a shaky voice, but Colin interrupted her firmly.

‘It should only take a moment,’ he said, his body angled slightly between them, his eyes never once leaving hers.

He did not hesitate or waver, and there was a strange resolution in his voice; clearly, he was not concerned about what anyone around them would think, despite him causing such a scandal by approaching them mid-dance and cutting in.

There was a stunned pause as Penelope stared up at Colin in bewilderment. She was already dreading what she would have to write in her Whistledown issue about this. She noticed that Colin had not even acknowledged Lord Debling; his eyes were locked determinedly on her and only her.

People dotted all around the ballroom were beginning to whisper and stare at the three of them, and no wonder. No dance should ever be interrupted, particularly between two people who were publicly courting; it wasn’t just basic manners, it was the rules of good society. But Colin didn’t look as if he remotely cared about the rules right now.

His hands were twitching nervously, and he could feel horrified pairs of eyes on him from all around the ballroom, but he was only looking at Penelope.

Penelope breathed heavily, trying not to let her temper rise; she’d thought she had said goodbye to the days of whispers following her around a ballroom.

‘It appears you two have something to resolve,’ Lord Debling said rather solemnly, glancing between them both. ‘I shall leave you to it.’

Penelope could think of nothing to say, not even an apology, as Lord Debling bowed his head politely, clearly trying to appear not too humiliated by what was happening to him in front of the whole ton. She curtsied in response, too stunned to speak or think.

Colin still did not even deign to look anywhere near Lord Debling, which only made Penelope more angry.

Lord Debling then turned and walked away from Penelope and Colin, leaving the two friends to it.

‘What is this?’ Penelope asked, and she scowled up at Colin, confounded. ‘What are you doing? Everyone is watching-’

But Colin cut over her with a shake of his head. ‘It does not matter.’

‘Does not matter?!’ Penelope said incredulously.

‘I just wish to dance with you,’ Colin said, an almost pleading tone to his voice as he gazed at her imploringly. ‘And t-to talk.’

Penelope scoffed. She was absolutely flabbergasted. What had come over him? What was he thinking?

‘Please,’ Colin said, and he paused as they gazed at each other, both of them suddenly completely oblivious to the curious pairs of eyes watching them from around the dance floor. ‘Pen.’

Penelope’s lips parted. The way he had spoken reminded her exactly of when she had said, ‘Please. Colin,’ when asking him to kiss her in the moonlit garden. And it was this that made her realise she had no choice but to give in to his request.

Swallowing nervously, Penelope gave a reluctant nod; relieved, Colin took her hand, she raised her other hand to rest on his arm, and they began slowly rotating together on the dance floor.

Penelope clenched her jaw as they danced, her breathing heavy and furious. Whenever she had danced with Colin before over the years, she had been giddy and delighted and having the best time of her life; she never once could have imagined back then that she would end up incensed by Colin on the dance floor and wishing he would leave her alone, and yet here they were.

She glanced to the other end of the ballroom; Lord Debling was now dancing with Cressida. Of course he was. She supposed she ought to be grateful that Cressida had swooped in to save him from being utterly humiliated on the dance floor, in front of the entire ton, but she couldn’t find it in herself to be. Instead, all she could focus on was how absolutely furious she was at Colin for his perplexing behaviour as they slowly twirled. She supposed she wasn’t really surprised; Colin had never really had many qualms about breaking the rules of propriety. She had just never thought he would do such a thing at a cost to her courtship with Lord Debling.

Penelope then glared up at Colin, unable to hold it in any longer. ‘Colin, you are going to ruin things between me and Debling,’ she said in a quiet but cross voice.

‘Well, perhaps that is for the best,’ Colin said.

‘What do you mean?’ Penelope asked, growing more infuriated and confused by the second.

Colin felt terrified, yet also determined, as he slowly spun Penelope around on the dance floor and tried not to be too deterred by her angry expression.

He needed to stop this farce once and for all. He needed to know what she felt and what she wanted. He needed to know this very moment, and there was no point in beating about the bush; he had already caused a scandal by taking over another gentleman’s dance with a lady, he might as well just get on with it.

‘Pen…’ he said, frowning at her as if it were obvious, ‘you cannot marry him, you hardly know him.’

‘I know him well enough!’ Penelope said, scowling up at him.

She was outraged. How dare he interfere like this, particularly at this stage when everything was set in stone? She had been confused and agitated enough by Lord Debling’s incoming proposal as it was; she didn’t want Colin muddying the waters even further with his bizarre behaviour. Besides, he was being somewhat of a hypocrite – he hadn’t exactly known Marina Thompson well when he had proposed to her, and yet he hadn’t taken any notice of Penelope’s objections during that fiasco.

‘I hear he is leaving,’ Colin said, ‘for three years.’

‘I know that already, Colin,’ Penelope said sharply, and Colin’s face fell. ‘It takes a year alone to get where he is going.’

Colin was shocked; how could she know of Lord Debling’s plans, and yet still want to continue with their courtship?

‘Oh, and you are happy with that, are you?’ Colin said sceptically. ‘A husband who would abandon you for all that time?’

Penelope looked insulted. ‘‘Abandon’ me?’ she said, her voice so loud that a dancing pair nearby turned to scowl disapprovingly at them.

She had intended to draw a line, to not engage in whatever it was Colin had come here to say, but she couldn’t help arguing with him, even if it was yet another rule they were breaking. She was just so incensed.

‘He would be pursuing his passion, leaving me with the independence and freedom I have always wanted,’ Penelope said fiercely.

‘Really?’ Colin said, raising his eyebrows at her, clearly unconvinced.

He didn’t understand. How could she be so cavalier about this? How could she not yearn for more in her marriage? Had her hope for love truly ceased altogether? She deserved so much more than Lord Debling and the life he was offering. So much more. She wanted more as well; she was just trying to fool herself into believing that a practical marriage was enough for her, and they both knew that was a lie.

‘Can you honestly tell me that is the life you want for yourself? I cannot think of any reason why you would accept that, unless…’ Colin trailed off, suddenly feeling a bit nauseous. ‘Unless you loved him.’

A tense pause fell between them as they continued to dance and look into each other’s anguished eyes.

‘Do you?’ Colin asked, his eyes almost bursting out of their sockets as he fixed Penelope with an urgent stare.

Penelope had a great deal of difficulty trying not to roll her eyes. ‘Colin.’

She had already been struggling with the decision to leave her dreams of love behind. Colin’s interference was a knife twisted in an old wound, a reminder of all the years she had loved him from afar, only to be overlooked and unappreciated. And now, even in her attempt to move forward and find some semblance of happiness with Debling, Colin was there, sabotaging her efforts. Why would he not just leave her be? Why did he have to make things worse?

‘Do you?’ Colin repeated, his voice sharper.

Penelope shook her head at him in exasperation, and a bitter chuckle escaped her mouth. ‘Love is rare in marriages of the ton, we all know that,’ she said, but Colin was shaking his head imploringly at her

‘It does not have to be,’ he said softly.

He had an earnest expression on his face, and the way he spoke was almost desperate. Penelope didn’t understand it. Her eyes flickered to his lips, without her even realising it. She knew what those lips tasted and felt like against hers. Even when angry with him, she could not forget that…nor could she stop herself from longing to experience it again.

She shook her head rapidly, trying to make herself focus. Why was he saying these things? What was he doing?

He had most likely decided to take on the role of an overprotective older brother for Penelope, that had to be it. There was no other explanation.

She inhaled sharply. ‘I have made my peace with what Lord Debling has to offer,’ she said determinedly, and then came the words she did not want to mean but knew she must: ‘I am going to accept his proposal.’

Colin stared at her, his lips parted, his brow furrowing.

The words rang in his ears. I am going to accept his proposal. It made his head pound. He had come here with the intention of revealing his feelings for Penelope, yes, but firstly to tell her that Lord Debling was a bad match. He had half-expected that she would thank him for being so smart in pointing out their incompatibility, but his plan was backfiring, and he could feel himself beginning to panic.

The music was slowly coming to an end, but he and Penelope had already separated before the piece had finished. The two of them stared at each other, Colin dazed and horrified, Penelope enraged.

Penelope was in agony. Why was he doing this? Right when she’d set her mind on something, why did he always have to come and throw her off guard?

‘I do not understand why you are so against him, Colin,’ Penelope said, her voice shaking, her face torn. ‘He is very kind, and I will be taken care of. Isn’t this what you wanted for me?’

‘I-I did, before,’ Colin said, averting his gaze and fidgeting agitatedly with his fingers, ‘but…Pen, I…’

He trailed off hopelessly as he met her disappointed gaze. He couldn’t say it. He was too afraid, and the way she was glaring at him made it very clear where he stood in her eyes.

But even now, he still could not back down. Not without a fight.

Colin’s earnest frown turned into a scowl. ‘I said I would help you find a husband, but I cannot stand by and watch you make a mistake,’ he said fiercely, his face leaning slightly closer to Penelope’s

And then they noticed Lord Debling march right past them. He didn’t look once in their direction, but his expression was set, hard as stone.

Penelope’s heart dropped to the pit of her stomach, and she turned furiously back to Colin. She couldn’t believe the audacity of him; he truly believed that he had the right to decide about her life, that he was free to make things difficult for her as and when he pleased. She could not stand for it.

‘The only mistake was me ever asking for your help in the first place,’ Penelope said to him sharply, her voice shaking.

Casting him a look of utter disdain, she then turned her back on Colin and hurried after Lord Debling.

Stunned, Colin stared after her as she fled, his eyes glistening, his mouth hung open as he tried to comprehend what had just happened. Despite being surrounded by people in the middle of the ballroom, he had never been more alone. He felt as if the air had been knocked right out of him.

That was not what he had planned, not at all. He had pictured a heartfelt confession of love between them, not a bitter argument. And now she had stormed away, practically fleeing to another man’s side. It crushed him. 

‘The only mistake was me ever asking for your help in the first place.’

The lively strains of the string ensemble and the cheerful chatter of the guests faded into a distant murmur as Penelope’s parting words continued to echo and sting in his mind. He had thought he would be saving her from making the terrible mistake of settling for Lord Debling as her match; he’d never thought that she would label him as the mistake instead. He couldn’t quite process it. It had jolted him profoundly.

It took him for a few moments to realise that Eloise had then appeared beside him on the dance floor, her eyes wide with disbelief. 

‘Colin, what has happened? What did you just do?’ she demanded, following his gaze as Penelope hastened up the stairs to follow Lord Debling on the other side of the ballroom.

‘I did not do anything!’ Colin protested, his voice tight with frustration.

Eloise scoffed. ‘Have you suddenly turned simple-minded?’ she said, dumbfounded. ‘You just interrupted their dance! You cannot just do that at a ball in front of everyone, even I know that! And you know Lord Debling has been courting Penelope, are you trying to break them apart?’

‘I…I just needed to speak with Penelope rather urgently, that is all,’ Colin said, his voice faltering as he swayed unsteadily on his feet.

‘Oh, and so you decided to cause a scene and risk ruining the one thing she has been looking for this season?’ Eloise said, her arms gesturing wildly; clearly, she was vexed.

Colin squeezed his eyes shut; his sister’s words cut deep. ‘Since when did you care so much?’ he said sharply, rounding on her. ‘I thought you had cut Penelope out of your life, for God knows what.’

There was a tense pause as he turned to look up at the balcony at the top of the stairs, where Penelope had almost caught up with Lord Debling. The sight made him feel rather dizzy.

‘Colin, what is the matter with you? You have not been yourself for weeks,’ Eloise said, her voice less irritated and instead tinged with concern.

‘On the contrary,’ Colin replied, ‘I have been more myself these past few weeks than I have been in a very long time.’

Before Eloise could respond, they both then noticed their mother beckoning them over from across the ballroom; she was stood by a beaming Francesca, who was looking very eager and impatient.

‘Mama is summoning us,’ Eloise said, her tone resigned. ‘It looks like they want to go-’

‘You go,’ Colin said abruptly.

‘Colin, what are you-?’

‘Just go,’ he said, more firmly. ‘I shall see you all at home later.’

Eloise hesitated. ‘Colin-’

But Colin had already turned away and walked off, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. He needed a moment to collect himself; the sight of Penelope running up to that balcony after Lord Debling had him seething.

It was over, he knew that deep down. But there was still a tiny slither of hope – or perhaps just plain, pathetic desperation – that remained within him. He knew he needed to give Penelope a chance to speak with Lord Debling; they needed to have the conversation, but what direction it would take, he could not predict, and the uncertainty was torture for him. He could not decide on how to tackle his next move, or even what his next move should be – for now, he just needed to be alone with his thoughts, and process the painful reality of what had just transpired between him and Penelope.

Across the other side of the ballroom, Penelope was equally as distressed by her altercation with Colin on the dance floor – they had never got into a fight before, not like that, and it felt so wrong, so alien to her – but she knew that she had to speak with Lord Debling before he left and turned his back on her for good. There was still a chance she could salvage this, after all.

‘Lord Debling!’ Penelope called desperately as she ran up the stairs, and Lord Debling halted and turned to face her on the balcony at the top of the stairs with a serious expression on his face. ‘I am so sorry we were interrupted. I know the ball is ending, but...shall we return to our conversation?’

She was panicking now; yes, she had faltered earlier, she had been filled with doubts about whether to accept him or not, but nothing could be clearer now – it was Lord Debling or no one. He was her best chance. Her only chance.

Lord Debling did not smile when he addressed her. ‘Miss Featherington, why is it you sit at your drawing-room window so often?’ he asked.

Penelope was utterly baffled. ‘I...’ she began, suddenly overcome with an urge to laugh; what on earth was he talking about?

‘All week, I have watched you search for someone. I thought you might have had a…falling out with Mr. Bridgerton. But now I suspect you may have been searching for him for a very different reason,’ Lord Debling said, calmly but firmly. ‘For the same reason you prefer your drawing-room window and the view it affords out towards the house across the square.’

Penelope was gazing up at him in bewilderment, still not hearing his words, still refusing to understand what he meant, for if she were to do that then all would be lost.

She began to shake her head, perplexed. ‘I do not know of what you speak, I-’

‘I am speaking,’ Lord Debling interrupted, with a somewhat strained voice, ‘of Mr. Bridgerton...and the feelings between the two of you.’

Penelope was stunned. She didn’t understand how this could be happening. It had all been going so well until Colin had arrived.

Penelope couldn’t help chuckling. It was so typical that Colin, of all people, would be the one to ruin everything he had been trying to help her achieve. Nothing could ever go right for her, could it? Perhaps she was just one of those people who would never get anything they wanted, and she had to accept that.

She looked down, trying to control herself; she knew this was no laughing matter, after all. But really, it was plain ridiculous that Lord Debling would make such a statement about her and Colin.

‘I can assure you,’ Penelope said with a firm nod, her voice somewhat bitter, ‘Colin Bridgerton would never ever have feelings for me. It is laughable to think as much. We are friends, nothing more.’

‘But would you like it to be more?’ Lord Debling asked.

His voice was not accusatory, his expression was not angry; on the contrary, the way he asked the question was almost kind, as if it were for her benefit rather than his. It threw Penelope completely.

Her face began to fall. What could she possibly say to that?

‘I do not...’ – She broke off, a strained smile on her face, and she raised her eyes briefly to the ceiling – ‘That is not even...’ – She cut herself off again, almost too pained to finish the sentence, and she looked down with a sigh, trying not to let her emotions get the better of her, before trying again – ‘That is not a possibility.’

She was trying to smile reassuringly up at him, but she could tell from the pained look in Lord Debling’s eyes that he was not convinced. Well, who would be?

‘I did not ask if it was a possibility, I asked if you would like it to be,’ he said.

Penelope stared up at him for a moment, then, with the tiniest hint of a nod, she lowered her eyes and blinked, her mind working furiously as she tried to think of what to say.

She couldn’t lie to him. She just couldn’t do it.

There would be no point anyway; he already knew. No matter how hard she kept trying to convince herself otherwise, no matter how determined she was to leave her silly, impossible childhood dreams about Colin in the past, her heart would always remain firmly tethered to him. It was what she wanted most in the world, and it would never come true. It was maddening.

Penelope realised then that the silence between her and Lord Debling had gone on far too long.

Lord Debling nodded in resignation and gave Penelope a small, tight smile. ‘Miss Featherington, with the amount of time I will be gone…it is essential I make a match with someone whose affections are not already engaged elsewhere,’ he said.

Penelope’s lips parted as she gazed up at him in dismay, slowly realising what he was doing. His eyes were glistening; he was upset, and rightly so. And yet he was being so very polite and kind about it, even now. It wasn’t fair.

‘Whatever it is you are searching for, I do hope you find it,’ Lord Debling said sincerely, and it seemed to be costing him great effort to keep his voice steady as he gazed at her. ‘Good evening.’

And with that, Lord Debling took his leave.

Penelope released the breath she had been holding as she watched him go, a whirlwind of emotions swirling through her like a storm.

She did not know what to think. At the beginning of tonight’s ball, she had been set on only accepting Lord Debling if he were to offer romance and love as part of their marriage. Since she had learnt from him during tonight’s dance that only a practical marriage would have been on the cards anyway, she should have perhaps seen it as a relief that he had now turned out to be the one to break things off between them, rather than leave the difficult decision up to her.

And yet she could not find it in herself to feel any kind of relief. All she could feel was dismay and an overwhelming hopelessness that threatened to drown her.

That had been her one chance. Her last shot. And now, thanks to Colin’s interference and her pathetic pining heart, she had blown it all to smithereens. A life of lonely, miserable spinsterhood, living under the rule of her heartless mother and bullying sisters, was the only fate that remained to her now.

To make matters worse, Portia then arrived at the top of the stairs. Penelope could tell from one mere glance at her mother’s expression that she had witnessed enough of her and Lord Debling’s conversation to work out what had happened.

‘Where is he going?’ Portia asked sharply. ‘What have you done?’

Penelope stared at her mother in anguish. She could hardly believe her at times. 

‘That is your question? Not am I well?’ Penelope said tearfully, incredulous. ‘Do I only matter to you if I have a lord’s engagement ring on my finger?’

Portia stared at her for a moment, clearly taken aback by Penelope’s response. Before she had chance to respond, Prudence then trotted up the stairs to join them both.

‘Mama, I am pregnant,’ she said excitedly with a chuckle. ‘I think.’

Penelope stared at them both for a moment, then withdrew without saying a word, walking out the way Lord Debling had left.

She wasn’t sure what upset her more in this moment; Lord Debling’s rejection, or her mother’s utter lack of compassion. She could be absolutely heartbroken for all her mother knew, but all Portia cared about was the social standing Lord Debling would have provided their family with – that, and her future grandsons, of course.

Penelope fled from the ballroom, because that was what she did best, and hurried down the steps outside, lifting the skirts of her gown as she went. She had already lifted her hand up to summon her carriage the moment she walked out onto the courtyard.

While the footmen brought it around, Penelope came to a halt at the end of the long red carpet, and then let face crumple, just for a moment, and pressed her fingers to her eyes to try and stop the tears from falling.

Why was it that she frequently found herself crying and leaving balls far too early, all on her own? It was becoming a somewhat depressing tradition this season.

She could not believe what had just happened. Merely twenty minutes ago, she had been on the brink of acquiring a marriage proposal. Now, all that was over. For good.

With a sniffle, she tried to collect herself, then climbed up into the waiting carriage.

She did not see Colin emerging out into the palace courtyard as her carriage began to drive off, nor did she hear his frantic footsteps as he ran along the red carpet after her. She did not notice anything at all, in fact. All she could think about was what an absolute disaster she had made of things, and how much she wanted to simply collapse onto her bed and never show her face in society again.

Heart racing, Colin dashed right to the very end of the red carpet and stopped, staring after the retreating carriage, his breath coming in sharp, panicked gasps.

No, no, no. Please, no.

The sight of the carriage slipping away into the night made him almost nauseous. And so very desperate.

He hadn’t followed Penelope up those stairs inside the ballroom to interrupt her conversation with Lord Debling, for he knew that would have only made her more angry with him. And then he had seen her sister Prudence appear on the balcony, looking happy and excited about something, and he’d assumed the worst.

But then Colin had realised – Penelope’s sisters never got happy about anything good happening to Penelope. And Lord Debling had taken off, looking forlorn rather than celebratory.

So, Colin had bolted after Penelope as she’d fled outside…but he hadn’t been fast enough. He had missed his chance.

Colin stared after the departing carriage, thinking fast.

He remembered his mother once saying that sometimes, one just had to take a leap of faith and let the chips fall where they may. He felt rather inclined to take that piece of advice – if he didn’t, he wasn’t sure he would be able to live with himself.

The decision was made in a heartbeat. He couldn’t let Penelope escape, not again. He had no choice. He simply had to go after her.

So, inhaling sharply, Colin took off across the palace courtyard, sprinting with all his might as he chased after Penelope’s carriage on foot.

He knew he was mad for doing this, but he might still have another chance, and he had to take it. The thought of losing Penelope, of letting her slip away without revealing the depth of his feelings, was unbearable.

He realised now, with a clarity that cut through his panic as he ran, that playing the role of the ‘old friend’ was no longer enough. If he wanted Penelope, he had to take the risk and tell her.

And that was exactly what he was going to do.

Chapter Text

Colin wondered if he had ever run so fast in his life. He couldn’t recall having had a reason to – but tonight, right now, he felt that such an action was very much justified. His feet pounded against the cobblestones with a speed he never knew he possessed as he continued to close the distance between himself and the carriage.

As he ran, he fumbled with his top buttons, yanked at his cravat and ripped it loose, the cool night air brushing against his exposed skin. His lungs burned, and his muscles screamed, but he pushed through the pain, fuelled by the singular goal of reaching Penelope.

The carriage was just ahead, the horses’ hooves clattering on the road. Colin gathered every ounce of strength, every reserve of willpower, and surged forward. With a final, desperate burst of speed, he managed to catch up.

‘Wait!’ he shouted, his voice hoarse with exertion.

The driver pulled the reins in alarm, and the carriage jolted to a halt. Colin stumbled, breathless, to the door and thrust it open.

‘Penelope,’ he gasped, his chest heaving, his panting out of control.

Penelope was sat on the edge of the seat inside the carriage, wearing a tearful scowl as she peered out at him stood at the open carriage door, her eyes wide with shock and confusion. She was absolutely flabbergasted – since when had Colin developed the ability to outrun four full-grown horses?

She turned away from him exasperatedly and closed her eyes; she had really had enough of Colin for tonight. He had done enough damage already.

Penelope inhaled sharply as she tried to keep her temper under control. ‘I do not wish to speak with you,’ she said in a strained voice, turning reluctantly back to him.

She was not afraid to show how she felt or say what she was thinking, not now. She could not care less about good manners tonight, particularly where Colin was concerned, for he was the very last person she wanted to see right now. She had thought that Colin understood her, that he had her best interests at heart. He had known how desperately she wanted to escape her mother’s oppressive hold and find a husband. But, at the crucial moment, he had shattered her hopes and ruined everything she had worked for.

Penelope had lost everything, and tonight her world had come crashing down around her. Lord Debling’s rejection was just the final blow which had forced her to confront a lifetime of pain and disappointment. All her efforts to create a promising future this season now seemed futile. She had worked tirelessly to secure a better life, one that might offer her a chance at love and happiness. But tonight, everything had unravelled. The prospects she had fought so hard for had slipped through her fingers, leaving her to face the harsh reality of her mother’s indifference and the bleakness of her own situation and future prospects. She had lost Eloise, her dearest friend, and now, after tonight, she would probably end up losing Colin too.

Colin gazed up at her in anguish. The pain in her eyes cut him deeper than any words could.

‘Please!’ he said breathlessly.

Penelope glowered at him. What was the matter with him tonight? Why was he behaving so…oddly? And why on earth had he chased down her carriage? She had never seen him this blatantly frantic, panicked or out of control. There was almost a hint of pity in her face as she looked him up and down; no matter how angry she was with him, it was very hard to not give in now that he had said the word ‘please’.

Colin glanced at the seat opposite her. ‘Let me in,’ he said.

He was panting loudly and had a look of utter desperation on his face. It was his beseeching gaze, not to mention the fact that she was worried he might collapse at any moment from the intense running, that made Penelope reluctantly sit back stiffly in her seat to allow him inside.

She was so devastated by what had just happened with Lord Debling that she couldn’t bring it in herself to care about the risks involved of allowing him into the carriage, unchaperoned and at night; she had far more important things on her mind at present. She had lost her one and only chance at a married life with a decent man – what did it matter if someone saw her alone in a carriage with Colin? It was only her and Colin, after all.

Colin climbed gratefully into the carriage, taking the seat facing her. Penelope tightened her lips and frowned at him as the carriage then set back off along the road.

Still breathing heavily from his sprint, Colin gazed hesitantly up at Penelope, sat rigidly before him. She was avoiding his gaze, and looked incredibly put out. The golden glow of the London streets and the moonlight occasionally pierced the shadows inside the carriage, casting a fleeting light on Penelope’s furious expression, and Colin felt a wave of despair wash over him. Regardless of his own feelings, he had thought that he had been acting in her best interests, trying to protect her from a mistake in accepting Lord Debling. But in doing so, he had only succeeded in pushing her further away from him. Now, as he looked into her tear-filled eyes, he realised just how much damage he had caused. He had thought he was saving her, but instead, he had become another source of her pain.

Penelope then leaned forward to call up to the carriage driver through the open window. ‘We will stop at Bridgerton House first.’

Her voice was irritated when she called up to him, as if nothing could be more inconvenient or infuriating than Colin adding a few extra seconds to her journey home.

‘Yes, miss,’ the carriage driver called back from the front.

Colin looked warily at Penelope. They both knew that no extra stop was necessary; they lived directly across from each other, less than a minute’s walk apart. She was simply being petty and taking out her frustration, and rightly so. It felt like they were worlds apart from one another in this very moment, and it devastated him.

Penelope sat back heavily against her seat, and glanced briefly at Colin. He was staring at her earnestly with an open mouth and a desperate gaze; the pathetic sight made her want to roll her eyes.

What was he doing in here?

The clattering of hooves and the creak of wheels filled the tense silence as Penelope continued to look incensed and Colin nervously fidgeted opposite her, trying to anticipate what she would say or do next. He was rather frightened, he couldn’t deny it.

Fed up with the silence, Penelope then spoke. ‘What do you want?’ she asked coolly, as she continued to avert her gaze.

Her anger was palpable, simmering just beneath the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment. She couldn’t understand any of this. He had chased her down on foot, but to what end? And why now? His presence was a most unwelcome intrusion, and she was too livid with him to take anything he had to say seriously. Lord Debling had been her escape, their courtship had been the culmination of a season’s worth of effort, and now, in a single night, Colin had undone it all. She was infuriated with him, and she was determined not to yield to whatever misguided explanation he had chased after her to provide.

Colin leaned forward, resting his arms on his lap. ‘Did Lord Debling propose?’ he asked, his voice quiet and deep, his eyes never leaving her face. 

Penelope frowned at him, utterly perplexed. ‘What business is that of yours?’ she said, her eyes flashing with anger.

His sudden appearance and apparent sense of entitlement were grating deeply on her nerves, and Penelope could feel all her unspoken yearning and resentment that had built up over the years threatening to spill over.

For as long as she could remember, Penelope had wanted nothing more than for Colin to truly see her, to lay claim to her heart as she had so willingly laid hers at his feet. Yet he never had. He had always been oblivious to her feelings, treating her with the casual affection reserved for a dear friend, but never anything more. And now, when she had finally begun to move on from the hopeless pining of her youth, to believe in a different path, and to piece together a new future for herself with Lord Debling, Colin was suddenly asserting his dominance and protectiveness in a manner that felt both bittersweet and excruciatingly frustrating. He was claiming a space he had never shown an interest in before, and she could not comprehend the motivations behind his actions, nor did she particularly care to at this moment. All she knew was that his interference at the ball tonight had cost her dearly, and she was not inclined to forgive him easily.

‘I need to know,’ Colin said, ‘did he propose?’

His voice had grown louder and more urgent as he sought the answer he dreaded yet needed to hear.

Colin’s anxiety was growing with each passing moment, and the walls he had built around his feelings were crumbling. He couldn’t hold back at this point anymore; he had to know if he had lost her or if he still had a chance, if he could still fight for her.

Penelope felt weary by his incessant badgering. His obsession with Lord Debling and how much he was set against him was completely baffling. She couldn’t comprehend why Colin, of all people, was subjecting her to this torment. She had decided to leave him behind, to settle for a life that, while somewhat empty compared to the unattainable dreams she had harboured for years, would be pleasant and provide her with stability and independence. Yet here was Colin, playing with her head and heart in such a cruel way with his relentlessness on the issue.  

‘It is odd. When I asked for your help in finding a husband, I did not realise that also meant you might try to deny me one as well,’ Penelope said, trying not to sound too bitter as she met his gaze.

Her frustration with Colin was mounting with each passing moment as the carriage continued to rattle through the dimly lit streets of Mayfair. The sense of injustice she felt was overwhelming; it seemed unbearably cruel that Colin wouldn’t want her for himself but also wouldn’t let her find happiness with someone else. 

The tension and strife only continued to grow within the confined space of the carriage as the two friends stared at each other. Neither of them could articulate what they truly meant, and it was driving both of them quite mad.

‘It is my business because I care about you,’ Colin said, frowning earnestly.

Penelope was so exasperated that she almost tutted. His words sounded hollow and patronising to her.

‘You cannot marry that man.’

Colin said the words fiercely and with determination – desperation, even. The weight of his emotions was weighing him down, to the extent that his face looked as if it had aged years in the span of mere weeks; the sleepless nights and relentless torment had etched deep lines across his brow.

Penelope raised her eyes to the carriage roof when he spoke. She was immediately regretting letting him come in. She should have just left him there on the road.

Her goal had always been clear: she needed a husband – any husband, really – to escape the oppressive control of her mother and sisters. She had confided this to Colin multiple times, and yet he was now being so overbearing, almost possessive, believing himself entitled to meddle in her life and be the one to decide what was right and wrong for her. Well, Penelope couldn’t stand for that. He had no right to dictate the course of her future, and his well-meaning attempts to protect her felt more like chains than shelter. She had worked hard to accept a practical solution to her problems, and her attempts to move on had been thwarted by the one person who had the power to both heal and hurt her the most.

She tried to tune out his voice and focus instead on the rhythmic clatter of the wheels and horses’ hooves on the cobblestones. She wanted to shut him out, to silence the turmoil within her and find some semblance of calm. Yet, Colin’s presence and his insistent words made that impossible. He was both the source of her deepest longing and her greatest frustration, and, in this carriage, there was no escaping either.

‘He…will leave you. And he is too…particular,’ Colin went on, floundering as he tried to think of all Lord Debling’s flaws. ‘And he is...he is…just not right for you, Pen.’

Colin’s voice wavered and he stumbled over his words, his arguments halting and stuttered. He knew in his heart that Lord Debling was wrong for her, but he couldn’t articulate it. He couldn’t articulate anything, it seemed, and his desperation was only growing more intense. He knew that each excuse he was stuttering out for why Lord Debling was a poor match sounded increasingly lacklustre, for on the surface, Debling was a good choice: respectable, wealthy, and kind. But Colin understood Penelope to her core better than anyone else, perhaps even better than she understood herself. Even setting aside his own personal stakes in the situation, he knew that she and Debling were incompatible, for he knew that a loveless marriage was not what Penelope truly wanted or deserved. He also knew that Penelope would wither beside such a dull and uninspiring man. She was vibrant and passionate, and Debling would stifle that vitality. Lord Debling did not deserve a woman as wonderful as Penelope. Perhaps there was no man who did.

Colin could enumerate countless other reasons why Debling was unsuitable, but the most significant reason remained unspoken:

Because I love you.

This unvoiced truth loomed over him, heavy and undeniable, and yet still Colin couldn’t find the right words.

There was a look of visible resignation etched across Penelope’s face as she regarded him, unimpressed. ‘He did not propose,’ she said sharply, simply because she did not want to watch him struggle on trying to come up with pitiful excuses for why Lord Debling was not a good match for her.

She had endured Colin’s relentless barrage of objections for as long as she could, but her patience was now threadbare. Why did he have to make this any harder than it already was?

Colin slowly tilted his head at her. He felt relieved, yet also indignant. Yes, obviously it was wonderful news – for him, anyway – that Lord Debling hadn’t proposed to her, but on the other hand, why on earth hadn’t he? Why had the man led Penelope on only to let her down like that tonight?

‘In fact, he rejected me because of you,’ Penelope continued, eyeing him coldly. ‘Because the scene you caused led him to believe you have feelings for me. An idea so preposterous, I do not know what to do besides laugh.’

Colin’s head turned slightly as she said this, crestfallen. He was sitting before the woman he cherished and wanted more than anything, and yet she believed that the mere suggestion of him possibly seeing her in a romantic way was an absolute joke. Perhaps the real obstacle for him was not Lord Debling, or whether she might feel the same as he did, but his own hurtful words and actions from the past that must have given Penelope such an impression. That realisation devastated him.

Penelope continued, her anguish growing more evident with every word. ‘Now, will you please let us ride home in silence and leave me alone.’

She spoke through gritted teeth, and her voice shook with anger. Colin did not think he had ever seen her so furious, and it was all because of him. And yet even that could not stop him. Not now the subject had been broached. This was his chance, as terrifying as it was.

‘I cannot,’ Colin said, shaking his head and gazing at her imploringly.

How could she possibly expect him to leave her alone? Did she not realise that she was speaking to the man who had changed his entire personality simply because she hadn’t replied to his letters? The man who had constantly sought any excuse to be alone with her once he had returned to London? The man who had been in a feral daze ever since their kiss? The man who had interrupted her dance with another and chased her carriage on foot? Did she really think he would just sit here in silence after all that?

Penelope stared at him in disbelief. ‘Please!’ she said loudly, her voice almost cracking.

She was quite sure that if he did not shut up soon, she would have no choice but to order the carriage drivers to throw him out of the carriage.

‘I cannot,’ Colin repeated, his voice firmer and more desperate, his eyes wide as they gazed into hers. ‘Because...’

He faltered for a moment, and his lips began to tremble. He was terrified. If he said the words he knew he must say, then they could never be unspoken or forgotten. They would be out there, recorded in the annuls of time, and everything would be changed between him and Penelope forever.

Am I really going to do this?

His heart pounded ferociously in his chest as he steeled himself for what must be done. It was a great struggle, he could not deny it; he had been wrestling with insecurities and doubts that had kept him silent for so long, and it would be so much easier to say nothing at all. With Penelope, there was so much to gain – her love, her companionship, a future he had only just dared to imagine. But there was also so much to lose. There was no certainty or guarantee that Penelope harboured any affection beyond friendship for him.

But in that moment, he was reminded of something Penelope had said to him at Daphne and Simon’s ball two years ago, words that had stayed with him ever since:

‘One finds oneself in such an incredible position, and, well, one should declare it, assuredly, fervently, loudly.’

Colin was certain then. Despite the possibility of her rejection, he knew that he could remain silent no longer. He had waited too long already, and he couldn’t live with the regret of never trying, never giving her his heart…even if she might break it.

It was a huge risk. But it was one he knew he must take.

Colin swallowed nervously, his eyes beginning to glisten with tears, and he took a deep breath. ‘What if I did have feelings for you?’ he said.

As the words left his lips, he lowered his gaze, unable to meet Penelope’s eyes. He had lived in fear of this moment ever since that kiss, and he had never been so unsure of how his words would be received before. The stakes felt impossibly high; he was not just risking rejection but the possible ruin of their cherished friendship.

Penelope’s breath caught in her throat. ‘What?’ was all she could manage to say, her chest heaving, her mind reeling, her heart thundering.

Had she just misheard him?

Penelope’s brain seemed to have stopped working. She had spent years convincing herself that Colin would never see her as more than a friend, and his previous actions had affirmed this belief. Even when he had apologised for his hurtful comments at last season’s ball, his gesture had been to help her find someone else, not to court her himself. Under the willow tree a week after their kiss, his awkwardness had spoken volumes, and in Lord Hawkins’ ballroom, he had frozen rather than asking her to dance. Most of their interactions had been in private, away from the prying eyes of society, and although Colin had assured her that he wasn’t ashamed of her, she couldn’t fully believe him. Her entire life, her family had made her feel inferior and pathetic, and Colin’s previous assertion that he would never court her had only confirmed the fundamental truth she had always held about herself – that she was unworthy of love.

There had been no indication whatsoever, no reason for her to believe that he harboured any romantic feelings for her. She must have misunderstood him.

Colin slowly tilted his head at her as his eyes searched her face, fixing her with a desperate stare while the carriage continued to sway through the moonlit streets. His gaze was filled with fear, regret, excitement, sorrow and adoration all at once. He was so afraid to put his heart on the line and lay everything bare, but he saw no other way forward now. He simply had to let out all that had been playing on his mind all this time and place his heart entirely in Penelope’s hands, in the full knowledge that she might crush it and that he might lose, not only the love of his life, but also his dearest friend. But he had to take that leap of faith.

His breath came in short, panicked gasps as he realised it was now or never.

Then, to Penelope’s utter astonishment, Colin dropped to his knees in front of her.

Colin acted purely on instinct; he needed to be as close to her as possible and it felt right to kneel before her, as if he was both begging for her love and humbling himself, acknowledging his past wrongs.

‘I have spent so long,’ he said, taking her hand in his, ‘trying to feel less, trying to be…the kind of man society expects me to be. And for a moment, I thought I had succeeded.’

That was an understatement; Colin thought he had triumphed, when he had first returned to London. He had fought against his sensitive nature, and strived to transform himself into the stoic, devil-may-care gentleman that the ton revered. He had put on an act of confidence that had been met with glowing, outward validation, and tried to suppress everything that made him who he was. Yet, without even trying, Penelope had disarmed his defences. Her mere presence had made his carefully constructed armour fall away, and he was ready to abandon that hollow façade at last, for he had now, after spending more time with Penelope, come to learn what true meaning in life really meant. It was not about fitting into society’s expectations or hiding behind a mask. It was about vulnerability, honesty…and the courage to place one’s heart in another’s hands, as he was doing right now.

‘But these past few weeks have been full of…confounding feelings,’ Colin said, desperate for her to understand.

Penelope could only continue to frown at him in stunned silence; she wasn’t sure she was capable of much else. She didn’t understand what was happening.

‘Feelings like a total inability to stop thinking about you,’ Colin continued, his gaze falling briefly to her lips. ‘About that kiss.’

Penelope inhaled and blinked rapidly as she tried to make sense of his words. She couldn’t be sure if her heart had stopped beating altogether, or if it was beating so rapidly that the feeling of it had simply turned completely numb. She was trying to listen to him and take it all in, but she didn’t understand. What was he saying? What did he mean?

Penelope had asked Colin for that kiss believing that it would be the only romantic experience that she would ever experience. It had been a goodbye to her hopes and dreams, and she had always thought that, to him, that kiss had been a fleeting, insignificant moment. She knew from his journal that he was experienced with other women, so she had assumed that one kiss would mean nothing to him. He had just been doing a favour for a friend, after all.

But now, hearing him speak of that moment with such gravity, she felt her world tilt on its axis, and her heart ached with the possibility that everything she had believed might be wrong.

Colin continued to speak, making her more and more dizzy as she tried to comprehend his words. ‘Feelings like dreaming of you when I am asleep. And, in fact, preferring sleep because that is where I might find you.’

Colin’s heart pounded as he continued to lay his soul bare before Penelope. The vulnerability in admitting such intimate thoughts was almost unbearable, yet he knew he had to do it. It felt right to let her into his innermost world, to express the agony he had endured over the past few weeks. Each moment spent keeping his distance and watching her with Lord Debling had been torture. He had missed her so terribly and sleep had become his only refuge, a way to escape reality and meet her in his dreams. Everything had come down to her, and right now Colin had never been so honest nor so passionate about anything before.

‘A feeling that is like torture,’ Colin said, his voice raw as he gazed desperately into her eyes. ‘But one which I cannot…will not…do not want to give up.’

The words simply came pouring out of him; he hadn’t prepared a speech, which was most unlike him, but he couldn’t stop himself. He needed her to know his mind and heart as much as he needed air to breathe. It was as simple as that.

Colin didn’t mind that he was on his knees, practically begging. Nothing else seemed to matter, other than the fact that he was an empty shell without her, a lost man with a mere shadow of a life, and he did not want to lose her. He wanted to be the kind of man she wanted, to paint a picture for her of how beautiful their future could be if only they were brave enough to embrace this magical feeling between them – for she must feel it too, surely.

It was a strange feeling, both exhilarating and terrifying, to know that he had laid his heart before her, willing to accept whatever fate had in store, and the matter now rested in Penelope’s hands; he was entirely at her mercy.

A stunned frown was fixed on Penelope’s face as she stared at him knelt before her, his gaze pleading, his words heart-stopping. She wasn’t sure what was happening. In her desperation to escape the ball after Lord Debling had bid her farewell, had she perhaps tripped and banged her head, and was she now dreaming? It would certainly make more sense than this being reality.

She knew that Colin was waiting for her to say something, but she didn’t know how to respond; his declaration was so at odds with the reality she had constructed that her mind seemed to have stopped working entirely.

For so long now, she had dreamed of Colin saying these very words, and as the years had passed, she had resigned herself to the bitter reality that it would never happen. So, she had clung to the familiar and comforting idea that they were just friends in order to try and move on from him. And now, just as she had finally wrapped her head around a world in which they would never be anything more, Colin’s words had completely shattered that illusion.

The man she had loved in secret for so many years was pouring his heart out to her, telling her that she was the centre of his universe, and it was everything she had ever wanted to hear. His confession of preferring sleep, just to see her, was more romantic than anything she could ever have imagined. She had genuinely believed that no one, least of all the man she had pined after for so long, would ever say something so profoundly moving to her.

And yet the moment felt surreal, as if it were some cruel joke. She had heard such declarations only in her dreams and now, faced with the reality of it, she couldn’t bring herself to believe it to be true. It was just impossible, it had to be.

‘I am a woman.’

‘You are Pen. You are my friend. You do not count.’

The notion that Colin could never love her like that had become so ingrained in her psyche that she refused to accept it, even though it was everything she had ever wished for.

Penelope shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes.  She couldn’t let herself hope again, not after so many years of heartache.

‘Please,’ she said, her voice trembling as she fought back the tears. ‘Do not say things you do not mean.’

She had been waiting for this moment for too long, and the prospect of getting her hopes up and opening her heart again, only to have them dashed and broken once more, was almost too much to bear.

‘But I do mean it,’ Colin insisted, his gaze intense and unwavering, and his hand squeezed hers.

Something shifted in Penelope’s expression as she watched him, his eyes wide and pleading, his forehead creased, his mouth open, his expression filled with utter yearning. It didn’t make sense, but she knew Colin…and she could tell that he was speaking from the heart.

‘It is everything I have wanted to say to you...for weeks,’ Colin said, his face close to hers, his voice earnest.

In that moment, he was more exposed than he had ever been, left hoping against hope that there might still be a chance. He needed her to see it, that they were made for one another, that it had been in front of them this whole time, that he had been stupid in missing it but that he could see it now, and he needed her to see it with him – that he was hers, and she was his. 

He was opening a door for them both. The only question that remained was whether Penelope even wanted to walk through it.

Penelope could only frown at Colin, utterly dumbfounded. She was in such a state of disbelief and perplexion that she was almost afraid to speak, or even think. She didn’t dare wish to think that the words pouring out of his mouth could indeed be real. Her own sense of self-preservation was the strongest voice in her whirling mind in this moment; she did not want to be deceived or have the rug pulled out from under her. Him wanting her or feeling for her in such a way felt utterly impossible.

‘But...Colin, we are friends,’ she said, sounding both wary and confused as she took in his expression.

It was the last thread of sanity she had left, the one thing that Colin himself had always defined their relationship as – friends and nothing more. She was emotionally exhausted and had nothing left to give; in the last twenty minutes, her world had been turned upside down – from thinking she would be proposed to by Lord Debling, to Colin bursting in and ruining it, to Lord Debling breaking things off because of her unrequited love for Colin, and now Colin saying he had feelings for her. It was too much for her weary heart to handle, and it was calling her whole world into question.

Colin felt his stomach plummet at her words.

‘We are friends.’ Was that all she saw them as? Really?

He searched her face with wild, shining eyes. ‘Yes, but we...’ he began helplessly, his eyes darting about as he tried to think of what to say.

Yes, but we could be so much more than that.

Yes, but we could be so happy.

Yes, but we kissed.

But Colin couldn’t bring himself to say any of it. The words suddenly felt juvenile; it was naïve of him to believe that a single kiss could change everything. For him, that kiss had been transformative. He had struggled to grasp how it might not hold the same weight for Penelope, but right now he almost scoffed at himself for thinking it would. Penelope had even told him at the time that the kiss would mean nothing and that she wouldn’t expect anything from him. It hit him like a punch to the gut and he felt like the biggest idiot in the world; he had crossed a boundary that she had very clearly established.

He looked back up at Penelope, tears welling in his eyes, and met her bewildered gaze. And then he realised the awful truth: she did not feel the same way. He had known that was a very real possibility, that he had been taking a shot in the dark by confessing his affections, but it was still crushing to hear her rejection.

He froze, resigned and somewhat fearful as he searched her face, trying to comprehend how he could have been so wrong about their connection. Now what could he possibly do and say to remedy their friendship? Or had he ruined it beyond repair?

Embarrassment flooded through Colin, and he closed his mouth, averted his watery gaze, let go of her hand and leaned away from her, quickly snapping back into the polite, composed version of himself that society expected so that he could try to assume some propriety.

Penelope realised then that she did not like that. She did not want him to lean away. She wanted him closer. Much, much closer.

‘Forgive me, um...’ he said, slightly stammering as he retreated, looking down and trying desperately to avert his eyes from her heaving bosom, ‘I do not know what I was thinking.’

His voice was hollow, as if the entire idea had been absurd from the start. Of course she would never reciprocate…and now he had to accept that he must let her go. This was the end, if she didn’t reciprocate his feelings, and he needed to respect that and guard his heart from further pain.

Penelope stared at him breathlessly as the carriage continued to rumble along the cobblestone streets and she watched Colin’s face fall. His dejected, crestfallen expression was all it took to make her realise that he had meant every word he had just said. She recognised the profound sadness in his eyes – the same sadness she knew all too well from loving someone who did not love her back. And she realised then that she had no emotional reserves left. Her armour was down, with no defences to protect herself from the torrent of emotions flooding through her, and she was left fully exposed before him.

She still couldn’t believe or understand what she was seeing and hearing. Colin was on his knees, with tears in his eyes, looking absolutely devastated. But right now she knew she had to make herself believe it, and seize this moment for them both. She had to speak aloud what she had been wanting to say to him for years.

She began to shake her head to herself. It was hopeless. She couldn’t keep it hidden anymore. And she did not want to.

Finally, with a sharp inhale, Penelope managed to speak, her voice trembling. ‘But I would very much like to be more than friends.’

Penelope’s eyes were wet as she spoke, and it felt a rather monumental moment for her, to speak up about something so huge without the safety of paper and pen. It was Colin’s vulnerability that had given her the bravery to share with him not what their relationship had always been defined as, but what she dreamed it could be, safe from ridicule and rejection in the privacy of her heart.

Colin’s heart leapt as his eyes snatched back up to meet her gaze. The relief was so palpable that it seemed to transform his face and body in an instant. His entire demeanour shifted as he stared at her, open-mouthed, his eyes drifting to her lips and then back to her eyes. For a moment he wondered if he had misheard, but he took in Penelope’s expression and could see his own desire reflected right back at him. He felt overcome.

Penelope was shaking her head at him helplessly, her anger dissipated, as if it was entirely beyond her control. He knew that feeling well.

‘So much more,’ she said, panting as if she was the one who had outrun four horses.

Colin’s eyes, previously clouded with devastation, now gleamed with intensity and a fervent desire, as if he might devour her whole if he did not kiss her immediately. Penelope was fairly sure her heart might jump right out of its chest if he continued to look at her like that, and yet she did not want him to stop. She wanted him to keep looking her at like that forever.

A whirlwind of emotions coursed through Penelope, but one thing remained clear: Colin was her comfort, her safe harbour, and in this moment, he was here, wanting her, at least physically. She didn’t fully grasp what being more than friends meant, but she had nothing left to lose, and she leaned into the feeling, ready to embrace whatever came next. Even if she couldn’t have all of Colin, even if he was only physically attracted to her, it was enough. The prospect of even a fraction of his affection was better than nothing at all. So, she let herself escape into the moment, surrendering to the connection they had fought so long to deny.

As the carriage rocked gently along, Colin’s gaze zeroed in on Penelope’s lips with a determination that left no room for doubt. The realisation that the dreams he’d been having of kissing her were about to become reality had hit him like a bolt of lightning, and now he needed to show her exactly how he felt. Without another word, Colin let nature take over and leaned in close, bringing his face towards hers with gentle yet fervent need. Penelope leaned towards him as well, tentatively, almost tiptoeing, as if afraid that this precious moment might vanish like a mirage, her longing gaze lifting from his face to his lips as he inched closer.

The rhythmic clatter of the carriage wheels on the cobblestone streets was a distant murmur compared to the pounding of their hearts. They were both breathless, both terrified, both excited, both delirious, both in utter disbelief. It was a strange feeling for the two of them to finally be taking the initiative at last, to admit that this was what they wanted. The air between them was charged with tension, so delicate and fragile that it seemed to tremble with their every breath.

Colin kept his face hovering there, barely a few inches from hers, his mouth open, breathing her in as he waited for her to close the distance. Weeks of longing had brought him to this moment, and he wanted her to be the one to open herself to him.

The space between them then suddenly vanished and Penelope crushed her lips to his in a scorching kiss that set their bodies aflame. Colin moaned softly the moment their lips made contact, igniting a hunger in them that had been simmering for far too long. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pushing his body against hers as the world outside faded into irrelevance. Penelope could hardly believe it; to finally have his arms around her, after so many years of wanting this, felt sublime.

They separated briefly, their noses brushing against each other’s as they relished in the moment, filled with yearning and disbelief, while the carriage rocked gently along the uneven road. Neither of them opened their eyes, as if an unspoken understanding was passing between them; every secret longing and unspoken dream was now out in the open between them, they knew what they wanted and, with newfound courage, they were ready to pursue it without hesitation.

Colin then brought his lips back to hers, this time without any fear or inhibitions, and instead with a surety and passion that knew no bounds. They shared several deep, slow, fervent kisses, each one more intoxicating than the last, as Penelope ran her hand along his shoulder, up to his face, and down his chest.

Penelope pulled away for breath, though Colin’s lips lingered. She opened her eyes to verify the reality of what was happening, but Colin kept his eyes closed, trying to savour and live in the moment, as if afraid that it might all be a dream. His nose gently slid down hers before he opened his eyes, and the two of them gazed at each other in wonder. In that shared look, they both knew they were thinking the same thing:

Why haven’t we done this before? Why has it taken us this long?

Penelope’s eyes were filled with utter astonishment as she looked at Colin. She couldn’t believe that the man she had secretly loved for so many years finally felt the same way about her. Her mind was spinning. She had read about such moments in novels, but experiencing it herself was an entirely different matter.

Colin was simply overwhelmed by a sense of profound realisation and relief. It was as if all the pieces of his life had finally fallen into place.

Finally. I understand now. It’s you. You are what I’ve been searching for.

They both knew that this was the beginning of something extraordinary, something that had been destined to happen all along.

Penelope’s hand trembled slightly as she brought it up to Colin’s face, her touch tender and reverent as she brushed her fingers over the curve of his cheek and ear. This was a moment that she had fantasised about countless times, yet now that it was happening, it felt surreal. Despite their long-standing familiarity, such a touch was forbidden and improper within the confines of good society – but here, in the privacy of the carriage, it did not matter, and she allowed herself to revel in the closeness.

Her eyes were wide with disbelief as her fingers brushed lightly against his skin, tracing the contours of his face with both awe and wonder, as if needing to confirm for herself that he was indeed real. The softness of his skin under her fingertips was a revelation; she had never imagined that she would be granted the privilege to touch him in such an intimate way. She had spent so many years yearning for this closeness, and now that it was within her grasp, she wanted to savour every second of it. This was not just a touch; it was an exploration, a tentative step into uncharted territory.

Colin watched Penelope in awe while she caressed his skin, his mouth wide open as he relished in her touch. He was glad that she was wearing sheer, fingerless gloves; he could feel the bare skin of her fingers on his cheek, and he was utterly mesmerised by the sensation.

Though Colin had been touched physically many times before, never had he been touched emotionally and spiritually as he was now. This moment, with Penelope stroking his skin, was the culmination of everything he had been longing for – a sense of intimacy and connection, a sense of truly being seen. The façade he had upheld at the beginning of the season had left him feeling emptier than ever, but this single touch from Penelope nourished him in a way that was so profound it was written all over his face. His expression was slack-jawed as his eyes roamed over her face with an obsession and devotion that bordered on hypnosis. Relief and joy washed over him, like he could finally breathe knowing that Penelope felt the same. Nothing compared to her touch, not even the dreams he had of her.

Penelope then slowly raked her fingers through his thick dark hair, something she had also dreamed of doing countless times. Her expression was awestruck, just shy of worshipful; she had been fantasising about running her hands through his luscious locks for so long and now that she could, it felt so glorious. Her touch was gentle yet possessive, tugging on his hair slightly as she ran her hands through his locks and almost grabbed it to hold onto, as if to prevent the sensation from slipping away like a fleeting dream.

Colin couldn’t believe that she was finally touching him this way; he was absolutely enraptured by it. As her fingers moved through his hair, Colin took in her dazed expression and realised then that Penelope had thought about touching his hair before. She had fantasised about him too. His open mouth curved upward in a dazed, intoxicated smile as he watched her face, his hunger for her growing with each touch; knowing that the woman he wanted so desperately wanted him just as much made him feel like a king. He wanted to sink into her.

Penelope’s mouth was wide open too as she tried to take in what was happening. She couldn’t believe that he was really here, kneeling before her, his hands around her waist, his lips moist from kissing hers. She smiled breathlessly at his reaction as she met his bewitching gaze and continued to run her fingers through his hair.

Oh, he likes this. And he likes that I am the one doing this.

It was the most peculiar thing, to experience what it was like to be desired for the first time. She had spent so long believing that she was not worthy of love or attraction, that a love match was never on the cards for her, and yet now one of her best friends was gazing at her with such reverence and intense longing; it was everything she had ever dreamed of and more.

Neither of them could help breaking into supremely satisfied grins as they continued to gaze at each other rapturously. They both felt so fulfilled, so victorious.

Colin then leaned back in and pressed his lips fiercely to hers. He lifted her effortlessly, flattening her against the plush seat of the carriage with a groan as she kissed him back. The boundaries of propriety shattered as they surrendered to the irresistible pull of their longing, and suddenly they were kissing each other with a fervour and passion neither of them could have predicted the other possessed, so desperate was their need for one another in that very moment. Penelope panted and gasped against Colin’s hot, demanding lips as his hand slid up to rest at her hip.

His touch sent a strange, thrilling heat spreading through her body, and her hand slid slowly down his throat as their kisses slowed briefly and her lips lingered on his. Her thumb traced his chin, and as their lips hovered there for a moment Colin felt a powerful surge deep in his soul.

This is it. I’m home, he realised. She’s my home.

Then Penelope opened her mouth wider, gripping the lapel of his jacket in her desperation to pull him closer to her, and their lips met again, their kisses frantic and fervent. He brushed his hand against her arm while she moaned softy against his lips, feeling a wild, unfamiliar ache, a yearning she couldn’t name.

Colin had never kissed a mouth that felt as wonderful as Penelope’s. Her inexperience certainly didn’t render her shy; she was very enthusiastic, and it made him shiver all over as her lips moved passionately against his, her hands running over his cheeks and hair as if trying to clutch him even closer to her.

The carriage seemed to disappear around them as they lost themselves in each other, their kiss deepening with every passing second. They fumbled around urgently, their hands roaming and exploring one another as if trying to make up for all the time lost, savouring every touch, every kiss, every moan.

Penelope gasped as his kisses then moved to her neck, and her world narrowed to the sensation of Colin’s lips and the warmth of his body pressed against hers. They were certainly not just friends anymore. Friends did not know the way each other’s lips tasted. Friends did not know that their bodies fitted perfectly together. Friends were not physically unable to keep their hands off one another. But this had been a long time coming, both of them knew that deep down – and they had to rejoice in the moment.

Colin was overjoyed by just how much Penelope seemed to be enjoying their embrace. If anything, it only made him want to show her more, to make her feel even better. He wanted all of her, this very moment. He wanted to make her feel things she had never felt. He wanted to touch and love her whole body, and never let her go. He wanted to give her everything this very night.

They pulled back briefly and locked eyes, as if both silently agreeing that they were still not close enough, that they needed more, that they needed to truly feel each other, skin to skin.

His nose resting against hers, his mouth open with hunger, Colin then slowly, tantalisingly, began to slip one of the puffed sleeves of Penelope’s gown down along the creamy skin of her shoulder.

Penelope felt slightly nervous; she had understood kissing, but this was new territory for her. Yet, she wasn’t scared; on the contrary, she manoeuvred her shoulder to help him adjust her sleeve. Colin slowly slid her dress off her shoulder, and his breath caught in his throat as he watched his hand move the fabric. He had imagined this moment over and over again, and now that it was happening, he felt euphoric.

When the sleeve of her dress fully slipped off, Colin gulped. Penelope watched breathlessly as his eyes widened at the sight of her exposed shoulder, as if he had never seen one before. In a way, Colin felt that this was a first of sorts for him as well as Penelope, and he knew in that moment that this was the only naked shoulder he ever wanted to see for the rest of his days.

Colin swallowed nervously as he inclined his face back towards Penelope’s, their eyes meeting; he wanted to ensure that she was still all right. They both breathed heavily as they gazed at each other, still in disbelief. Penelope’s chest heaved, and she gulped loudly in response to the feral look in his eyes as their noses touched and she tried to take in what was happening.

Colin’s reverent gaze then travelled down to her exposed chest, his eyes lustful and smouldering. He then leant down to brush his lips over her throat, and the yielding flesh below, immediately sending shivers down her spine. His mouth danced over her skin, savouring the sweetness, while Penelope threw her head back, thoroughly enjoying the sensation.

And then, ever so slowly, Colin skimmed his hand down and cupped her breast through her sparkling bodice with both fervent desire and tender care, wanting to explore every delicate curve of her body. He had been aching to do this ever since she had started lowering the necklines of her dresses; those new gowns she had been sporting ever since the Four Seasons Ball, showing off every beautiful curve and feature, were so irresistible that Colin was surprised it had taken him as long as their first kiss to fully acknowledge just how much he had been lusting after her.

Penelope gasped softly; she hadn’t been expecting him to touch her there, but she was immediately very glad about it. It made her feel desirable. It showed her that Colin truly saw her as a grown, attractive woman. Not his sister’s friend, not his awkward neighbour, not a little girl. A woman.

Penelope rested her hand over his as he cupped her, looking down with her pink lips parted in anticipation and disbelief. She wanted this as much as he did, and it was a wonderful experience, to realise that her long-held dream of Colin desiring her this way was actually coming true. She closed her eyes, her hand in his hair to keep him in place and her mouth hung open against the side of his forehead as she savoured the feeling of his lips languidly trailing along her chest while his hand squeezed her breast.

He was touching parts of her that had never been touched before, and it was wrong, but it was so right. What did propriety and rules matter between two friends who knew each other so well? They had been holding back and now they were finally letting go, and it was blissful oblivion.

Colin then began to kiss and suck at the exposed skin of her décolletage as if he were a starving man, and Penelope threw her head back with a moan, panting with both delight and surprise as his lips moved fervently against her heaving chest while his hand gripped her other breast, each touch and kiss stoking the fire within her.

He was worshipful of Penelope, and wanted to tend to her with every faculty he possessed, his kisses trailing along her chest with reverence and gentle hunger. He had never known true desire until this very moment. He could feel her heartbeat racing beneath his fingers as he squeezed her, and, while his lips worked their magic, his hand slowly slid down her breast, his thumb grazing over her nipple; her hand followed his as his touch travelled down to her thigh.

Penelope could feel her body burning with a desire unlike anything she had ever known as his lips continued to kiss and suck the top of her breast. It was a new and unexpected kind of feeling, but one she enjoyed immeasurably. She wanted him to caress every inch of her. She wanted more. More of what exactly, she could not specify, but she just knew she wanted more of Colin, more of everything he was doing to her.

Desperate to kiss him, she then nudged his head up and found his mouth with hers. She kissed him so fiercely while he held her so tight, and yet, despite the strength and intensity of other’s touch, both of them could still barely believe that this was happening, that they were in each other’s embrace.

Colin then pulled back and they paused, their eyes locking, their breathing ragged and heavy. They were both so overwhelmed, so lost in one another. The fact that they were in a moving carriage travelling through the streets of London had been forgotten a while ago.

Penelope was dazed, her lips tingling, her body thrumming with a new, urgent need. She did not care that they had crossed a line that she knew unmarried people were forbidden to ever cross. She had lost all resistance, and all she cared about was that this would be over all too soon, and she needed to make every single moment last.

Colin was overcome; her moans and grips from when he had kissed the top of her breast had been so…encouraging. As if she wanted more.

He then looked down, and his hand slowly slipped beneath the hem of her dress. He gently lifted it, his fingers soft against her skin as he palmed the smooth curve of her calf. His hand paused there as Penelope breathed heavily and he turned to look at her, his next move clear in his mind. He met her pleading gaze as his hand hovered there, his eyes silently asking if she wanted him to proceed. He didn’t want to do anything Penelope wasn’t comfortable with; this moment was all about her, and the only way he was going to do this was if she was on the same page, as his partner.

Penelope, although filled with trepidation and unsure of his intention, seemed equally certain as she braced herself against the window. The soft light of the moon shone into the carriage, casting an ethereal glow on Penelope as she nodded at Colin breathlessly, her mouth open, her eyes hungry, her face determined. She might not understand exactly what was to come, but she trusted Colin implicitly, and she was willing to participate in whatever way she could. Besides, she was rather intrigued about what was about to happen next. Could she possibly be about to discover what Colin had written in his journal about, before he had caught her just as she had got to the good part?

Whatever he had planned, she could be certain that, as long as it was him, it would be worth it, and she knew that she wanted more – more of his kisses, more of his touch, more of this intoxicating sensation that made her feel so alive.

Penelope’s heart raced as Colin’s hand began to gather the sparkling fabric of her gown in his fist, his fingers grazing her smooth skin reassuringly, the sound of the rustling fabric barely audible over their heavy breathing and the clatter of the horse’s hooves outside. She knew, as he slowly slipped his fingers beneath the folds of her skirts, that this wasn’t technically proper. Even the most innocent, ignorant unmarried young lady understood that a man should not be putting his hands up her dress. Yet, she was not ashamed or worried or embarrassed, or even fearful about the prospect of being ruined. She was excited, and she knew that Colin would not forsake her, so she just wanted to enjoy this moment with him. Crossing boundaries with Colin felt right, natural.

His fingers found their way beneath the layers of fabric, caressing her knee with tantalising slowness as they travelled up her bare leg…

Penelope was incredibly grateful that Rae had agreed to let her forgo the stockings for tonight, though of course she never could have foreseen that such a decision would end up being perfect for Colin Bridgerton caressing the bare skin of her leg. She knew that she needed something, even if she didn’t know exactly what, and she knew where she wanted him to touch her; the sensation between her legs, though new and familiar to her, was undeniable, urging him on. His touch, his gaze, everything about him consumed her.

They kept their eyes fixed on each other, their breaths coming quicker, the intensity of their gazes unbroken as he slowly made his way up her thigh.

Colin watched Penelope closely with an open mouth, his eyes never leaving her face; he wanted to be sure that she was comfortable with every step they took…and he also wanted to remember exactly how she reacted to his touch.

His fingers continued to trail up, slowly and deliberately, to a place she had never imagined any man touching. Colin’s eyes locked with hers, and he gulped, as if bracing himself for the moment Penelope would realise what he was doing to her.

Penelope’s breath hitched and her mouth dropped open in surprise when his fingers made contact between her legs, igniting a fire within her, and a raw, almost guttural gasp escaped her mouth. His touch set off a strange and spreading thrill that left her pupils so dilated they looked black.

Colin groaned lightly and his gaze dropped to watch Penelope’s open mouth as he continued to caress her. He was completely wrapped up in this moment of discovery for her.

To her surprise, Penelope then felt Colin’s fingers slip higher, sending more shivers of pleasure through her, and another gasp escaped her lips as her body responded instinctively to his touch, her back arching against the seat of the carriage.

Colin gasped as well, his face and breathing pattern mirroring hers as he kept his eyes trained on her, guiding her through the sensation.

Her eyes widened, then drifted closed in blissful surrender as his touch overwhelmed her, his fingers moving with a practised, gentle rhythm. She had no idea what he was doing, but the sensation was overwhelming. The world outside the carriage ceased to exist; there was only the intoxicating sensation of Colin's touch.

Colin couldn’t take his eyes off her open mouth. He had never felt such intimacy, nor experienced the joy of focusing entirely on one’s partner’s pleasure. His focus never wavered, though his gaze shifted down, studying his technique.

Overcome, Penelope then clutched him convulsively, her eyes opening wide in shock as she lurched forward and pressed closer to him as his fingers continued to move with deliberate precision. She met his gaze, her eyes dark with passion, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

Colin paused immediately and looked up at her flushed face in concern to check on her; had he hurt her?

Penelope pulled him closer, the overwhelmed look in her eyes wordlessly asking him: ‘What are you doing to me?’

But then Penelope relaxed, and she placed her hand on his cheek, reassuring him; he was not hurting her at all, she just needed to have him close, to have his eyes on hers. It was him, and him alone, who could bring her such pleasure.

Colin’s lips parted wider; Penelope’s reactions were unlike anything he had ever experienced. No one had ever needed him or his touch with such fervour, no one had ever desired such eye contact, no one had wanted to be so present in the moment with him before. It made him realise that it wasn’t just about what he did; it was about the fact that it was him who was doing it. And it made him more determined than ever to make this the best possible experience for her.

A cry of astonishment then escaped Penelope’s lips as Colin continued to touch her, and she pressed herself even closer to him, clinging to his body, not wanting an inch between them, her fingers clutching his tousled hair. She moaned into his mouth as his fingers continued their deft, deliberate caresses, moving with expert precision that left her breathless. Their open mouths met, both of them panting, and he caught her bottom lip between his lips, sending another wave of pleasure through her. As he bit her lip, she arched her neck, pulling him with her.

Penelope could feel herself falling deeper into the sensation, her body responding in ways she had never imagined. Her back arched further as she threw her head back, clutching him desperately.

Colin watched her come undone in front of him, utterly mesmerised, savouring every sound and movement he elicited from her. He could feel the tension building within her, every gasp and shudder driving him onward as she clung to him, one hand digging into the fabric of his coat while the other grabbed his messy hair as waves of ecstasy washed over her.

His own breathing grew ragged as he watched her unravel, enjoying the view. His lips then moved to her neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along her skin as his fingers continued their dance, each movement calculated to drive her higher, and Penelope’s body trembled.

Their movements began to increase in fervour, intensity and desperation, both of them too enthusiastic to hold back anymore. Colin’s shoulders hunched and churned as he pushed himself against her leg and his tongue licked her neck, his entire being focussed on her, while Penelope’s hips lifted by instinct to meet his touch, her body seeking more, driven by an instinct she didn’t fully understand. Penelope felt safe and bold enough to fully inhabit her body and express herself, grasping at Colin almost in a panic, her desire to be even closer to him evident as her hand tangled in his hair and her breaths came in loud, rapid, shallow bursts.

Colin was lost in her, every sound she made driving him wild with need. The world could have collapsed around them, and Colin wouldn’t have noticed; his entire focus was on Penelope. Nothing else mattered.

Penelope clutched onto him for dear life, her fingers digging into his shoulders as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable intensity, and she gripped Colin’s hair tighter, her nails grazing his scalp fervently as she lifted her hips again, needing more of his touch. She could feel herself teetering on the edge of something, her body tightening while his fingers pressed deeper, his movements becoming more insistent as he took her to some sort of pinnacle. She felt like she might almost faint from pleasure. 

And then Penelope quaked and gasped beneath him as she let herself go to the feeling. It was as though a seal had broken within her, and now the sensations within her body were almost too overwhelming to comprehend. As she peaked, her hips grinding down and stopping, she moaned loudly in relief and pulled him closer, her lips searching for his as she relaxed.

His kisses moved back to her mouth and their lips met in several long, smouldering kisses, Colin’s mouth capturing her moans and gasps, Penelope’s hands caressing his hair and face.

Colin had completely lost himself in her; his soul felt like he was on fire, and he wanted it all. He wanted to keep kissing and touching every inch of her skin. He wanted to wrap her up between his legs and arms. He wanted to hear nothing but her moans and taste nothing but her kisses and see nothing but her dazed smile and hungry eyes for the rest of his days. He never wanted this moment to stop. He could live in this carriage with Penelope forever and be perfectly content. He had never thought anyone could be capable of feeling such love or such desire so powerfully.

As they kissed, Colin’s fingers slowed their pace, drawing out her pleasure until she was left breathless and spent, and she sank back, sliding down the seat as they pulled away. They both sighed in relief, their movements slowing as Penelope caught her breath and they gazed at each other hungrily. Nothing else existed for either of them…it was as if they had transcended to another plane of existence where all that existed was each other…

And then there was suddenly a sharp knock on the carriage roof.

The carriage jolted to a stop, breaking their spell, and Colin and Penelope broke apart in shock.

Penelope scrambled to sit back up in the seat, startled. ‘Oh! Colin!’ she gasped, alarmed, as Colin quickly removed his arm from under the skirt of her dress.

‘What?’ Colin said, stunned by this most unwelcome interruption; he was so dazed and consumed from what had been happening with Penelope that he had barely registered they had even stopped.

‘We are at your house,’ Penelope said shakily, still panting, as she straightened up on the seat unsteadily and faced him with wide eyes.

What just happened?! she kept asking herself in disbelief.

Colin looked utterly lost and bewildered, as if he had ascended to another planet, or had forgotten his name and where he was. It took Penelope’s words to even slightly cajole him out of his blissful state. His eyes widened and darted about frantically as he took in the scene around them with dazed confusion and remembered where they were, the horses’ neighs from outside slowly bringing him back to the real world.

‘Oh, God,’ he said, panicked, as he glanced breathlessly around the open windows and saw Grosvenor Square.

His brain had still been struggling to comprehend whether he had been awake or dreaming, but that loud knock on the carriage roof had been proof enough – this was not a dream. He was still in the carriage and Penelope was still before him, breathless and overwhelmed, having just come down from the sensation of his touch.

His mind was reeling from the intensity of what had just transpired. How could this be real? It was almost too good to be true. And, more important, why had they been interrupted?

Colin rolled his eyes and turned back to Penelope with an exasperated sigh. ‘Could the carriage driver not keep on driving?’ he said, half-jokingly.

His gaze was earnest as he looked into her eyes, still caught up in the moment. He just wanted to enjoy this with Penelope for a few more minutes, was that really too much to ask? Surely they could just circle the square a few times? No one would know.

Penelope stared at him in bemusement, still in shock over what had just occurred, and she heard an affectionate chuckle escape her mouth. He was clearly utterly oblivious to the objective ridiculousness of what he had just said.

A boyish grin begun to spread across Colin’s face in response as he then realised the implausibility of what he was suggesting, and suddenly they were both laughing, the sound light and free, reminiscent of their childhood days.

Penelope covered her jubilant, innocent giggling with her hand, her eyes sparkling with delight, while Colin shook his head in exasperation, looking younger and happier than she had ever seen him. They were both so overcome with disbelief over what had just happened, and yet they didn’t find the situation in any way awkward; they were happy. They had been so caught up in their desire and passion, overwhelmed by the realisation that their dreams were finally coming true, and now it was just them, laughing at each other, themselves, and the absurdity of the situation they had miraculously found themselves in. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, and they were too consumed with joy and relief to worry about anything else.

Was there anything better than laughing with Penelope Featherington? Colin did not think so. In fact, he wanted to spend the rest of his days laughing with her.

Penelope’s entire face was alight with adoration for the man in front of her, her eyes dreamy and starry-eyed, and she was gasping slightly as her laughter died down; she still hadn’t quite recovered from the wild, scandalous experience from mere seconds before.

She had coped through most of her adolescence by living through illusions, fantasies and make-believe. She had consumed herself in her books, and her writings as Lady Whistledown, and her daydreams of what could be with Colin – but she had never really fooled herself into believing those daydreams could ever become anything close to reality. So it was confusing now, in this very moment, to find herself in the midst of one of those very illusions, when she was quite certain she had stopped herself from living like that a while ago.

What was happening? What was the difference between dreams and reality? How could one tell? She felt like she didn’t know anything anymore, other than what she was experiencing right now was utter madness. She wished she could gain some semblance of control over the overwhelming monsoon of emotions swirling around her, but she was utterly lost, floating in mid-air, giddier and happier than she had any right to be.

‘Do you think anyone saw us?’ she asked in a soft, giddy voice, a dazed smile on her face.

She bit her lip as she gazed at him and shook her head, a gesture that was somehow both innocent and mischievous in a way that sent Colin’s heart racing even faster.

Penelope was fully aware of just how scandalous she had just been, and she knew the forbidden nature of what they had experienced, that they probably should have been better at hiding. But there was no remorse or apology in her eyes; she was too thrilled to feign regret. The potential ruin that loomed over her was a serious matter, yet she couldn’t help but revel in the moment, the joy of it too profound to ignore.

‘I was not paying much attention to anything,’ she admitted, still giggling and overwhelmed.

It was very unlike Penelope to not pay attention to her surroundings; her job as Lady Whistledown relied on her observing life and everything going on around her. But this time, she was the one who was experiencing life, not observing it. She was the one where things were happening to her. She was the main character in her own story, at last. It was an alien feeling, but a very nice one.

Penelope had never felt more dazed. She had no idea what had just happened, only that it had been the most incredible feeling she had ever known. Merely half an hour ago she had been distraught, angry and hopeless, with any chances she’d had of a decent future ruined. And yet now, she had just been kissed, touched, and ravished senseless by the man she had loved for years – a man who, bizarrely, seemed to return her feelings, after so long of being completely oblivious.

Colin beamed at her, blissfully unconcerned. What did it matter if anyone had witnessed their scandalous embrace? All that mattered was that he was truly awake and open to what was right in front of him, and that she, by some miracle, seemed to return his affections.

His giddy smile began to fade, and he worked his jaw as he gazed at her with profound seriousness. With his senses returning, he wanted to truly see her, to bask in her presence and commit every detail to memory.

They gazed deeply into one another’s eyes, their eyes speaking volumes that words could not convey, their breathing still not yet fully slowed down. The exhilaration of their embrace began to ebb, replaced by a tender, almost sacred quiet.

Colin’s eyes darkened as they flickered to Penelope’s lips again. His desire to kiss her again wasn’t fickle or driven by fleeting emotions like lust or excitement; it was something deeper. It was the surety of his feelings, an acknowledgement of who she was to him and what this moment meant. He wanted to honour that – and, from the tender gaze in her eyes, Penelope seemed to want to honour it too.

Without saying a word, they leaned in simultaneously, Penelope’s hand holding Colin’s cheek as their lips met. The kiss was chaste, a gentle touch of lips not born of passion or fear, but a promise. It was soft, quiet, and reassuring; a tentative gesture from Penelope simply because her heart was full of emotions she never thought she would experience, and a silent declaration from Colin that this wasn’t a fleeting moment or jealousy run amok – he wanted her to understand that she was it for him.

They both tilted their heads up as their lips lingered, as if chasing the last whisper of the kiss, neither wanting the moment to end.

Penelope opened her eyes first, simply to ensure that this was still real. She looked like she was in a haze, entirely in the moment and not wanting it to slip away. Colin kept his eyes closed, his lips lingering as he savoured the moment so that if he was in a dream, he could stay in it.

Their noses brushed against each other’s as he then opened his eyes to meet her gaze, and they looked at each other with amazement and disbelief, her gentle hand still on his cheek.

A slow smile spread across Colin’s face as he gazed at her breathlessly, his eyes running up and down her face with a newfound purpose and confidence.

I love her.

It was a fact Colin had known for a while, and had most likely felt for even longer without realising it, but now he knew with absolute certainty. He loved Penelope Featherington with everything in him.

He then reached his hand out and traced the edge of the flesh on Penelope’s exposed shoulder before gently righting her gown’s sleeve, his touch tender as he made sure not to use his two middle fingers that…well, that had previously been occupied. Penelope watched him with a tender look of disbelief in her eyes; she had always known that Colin was a caring and attentive person, but she had never imagined him directing this at her in such a way by fixing her dress.

Colin then moved to her other side to smooth back a wayward lock of her hair, his hand gentle, his gaze tender, as if he were treating her like something precious. He wanted to take care to make sure she did not look dishevelled when they left the carriage. Her makeup was slightly smudged, but other than that, she looked fine. No – she looked perfect.

Penelope was confounded by his actions. She couldn’t understand why he was doing this, what it meant. She had grown up in a loveless household where gentle words and touches were foreign to her. This moment was everything she had only read about in books, and it made her feel something she had never felt before – a sense of being cherished.

‘What are you doing?’ Penelope asked in a soft, dazed voice, as she smiled at him in awe, her eyes never leaving his face.

The way he looked at her was so reverent, so adoring, so certain. She knew deep down that she was a fool for believing any of this to be real and yet, right now, she was far too lightheaded and joyful and in love to care about that.

A pause fell between them as Colin then leant back and studied Penelope’s face with newfound clarity and an earnest, open-mouthed expression, reflecting a myriad of emotions – speechlessness, reflection, determination, and confidence – all in the span of seconds.

Everything clicked into place for him right there and then.

It was perfectly all right to keep his armour off forever; his purpose had been right under his nose all along. He just wanted her heart next to his, always, and he didn’t want to hold back. It was crystal clear – he was meant to be wherever Penelope was. Every moment that had ever passed between them, from their first meeting as children, had led to this. They were truly meant for one another.

He dropped his gaze and swallowed hard before looking back up at her, his eyes clear and resolute, a determined smile on his face.

It took that mere moment for Colin Bridgerton to realise that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. And he wanted the rest of his life to start as soon as possible.

He lifted his chin, almost proudly, gave a little nod, and then, with determination in his eyes, turned to get out of carriage.

Penelope’s face fell the moment Colin opened the carriage door and stepped out, and her heart pounded, fear rising in her chest.

‘Colin? she said, her voice trembling with uncertainty, her breaths quickening again.

A wave of panic rose within her, every insecurity she had ever harboured about herself immediately surging to the surface as she watched him go.

Was this it? Was she merely a distraction, or just another dalliance? Had he just wanted to have some fun, and now it was over? Would this end in awkwardness and distance, as their first kiss had?

She felt a sudden, desperate need for him to acknowledge what had just happened, to say something, anything, that would reassure her that this wasn’t the end. But Colin was silent as he exited the carriage and stepped onto his drive.

Maybe it had been a mistake he now regretted. Maybe he had only wanted a moment of excitement, a brief indulgence, and now he was walking away for good. She wouldn’t be surprised, whatever his reason; she was so accustomed to things going wrong, after all.

Penelope remained sat in the carriage, feeling more vulnerable than ever as she gazed after him.

Colin, having quickly wiped his hand on a handkerchief in the pocket of his suit, then turned back to face Penelope as he stood breathlessly outside the open carriage door. His hair, cravat and shirt were a mess, but he didn’t seem to notice or care; he looked Penelope up and down, a proud smile on his face, before holding his hand out to her. He basked in the moment, aware of the monumental step he was about to take, his eyes alight with confidence. He knew exactly what he was going to do now.

The contrast between his certainty and her bewilderment was endearing to him. It was clear that Penelope had no idea what was coming, and that made his heart swell with affection and even amusement. To him, it was the most natural thing in the world; he had no doubts about the path he was choosing.

‘Are you coming with me?’ Colin asked simply, his voice deep and somewhat raspy as he offered her his hand.

He said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, for there was no other way for this to go. What had she been thinking – that he would compromise her honour and then abandon her? Even if he hadn’t compromised her, there had always only been one way this carriage journey would end in his mind.

Penelope’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets; she was beyond confused. ‘What?’ she said with a frown, stunned, and she glanced up at the window to the drawing room of Bridgerton House.

She had never thought Colin to be much of a reckless person – well, until tonight, anyway – but really, what was he thinking?! As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t exactly sneak up to his bedchamber so that they could continue what they had started. The risk of scandal was far too great. The Featherington coachmen overhearing them in the carriage was one thing, but if any member of the Bridgerton household were to catch them, then their secret dalliance would be exposed and over in a flash.

 ‘Your-your family will see me-’

But then Colin leaned forward with a boyish grin, cutting her off before her insecurities could take root, and his voice was firm and playful when he next spoke.

‘For God’s sake, Penelope Featherington, are you going to marry me or not?’

Chapter Text

Penelope stared breathlessly at Colin from the carriage seat, her eyes wide with stunned disbelief, his words ringing in her ears.

‘For God’s sake, Penelope Featherington, are you going to marry me or not?’

When Colin had spoken, his youthful exuberance shone through, an echo of the bashful, joyful, affectionate boy who had always been her friend from the very first day they had met. There was a cheekiness in his demeanour, a lightness that belied the seriousness of his words. His face now looked young and gleeful, all his concerns seemingly washed away; he looked so at ease and unburdened, and the words had come out with a silly, almost goofy inflection, as if he were sharing a joke with her, a secret they had always known but never spoken aloud. He made it sound like it was the most inevitable thing in the world. After all, who else would he want to marry besides his best friend, the woman he had known and adored since childhood?

Penelope was struck dumb, her eyes wide with shock as the words sank in and she gazed at Colin in utter incredulity, trying to process the enormity of what he had just said. For a moment she assumed he was joking, or perhaps drunk – it was too surreal to be true, after all – but then she took in his delighted, earnest expression and realised he was neither of those things; he was quite serious. The realisation dawned slowly but powerfully – this was no mere fleeting night of passion. Colin wanted her to be his wife. He was offering her a future, a place within the family she had always cherished. And Penelope felt certain that the young girl inside her might very well faint in giddy disbelief.

She was utterly shocked, her beautifully bewildered face a picture of amazement and disbelief. Her bosom swelled with emotion, a smile blooming on her lips as the giddy relief washed over her. The joy was almost overwhelming; she couldn’t comprehend the reality of her long-held dreams – of being loved and cherished, of having a future with Colin – coming true. It was as if she were seeing the world anew and her heart soared. This was everything she had ever wanted to hear; the love of her life had just proposed to her, and he meant it.

Penelope began to laugh in bemusement.

How is this happening? How is this not a dream?

Colin beamed at her, amused by her evident confusion, and began to chuckle as well. He was in just as much disbelief by their situation as she was, but he had never felt more certain about anything. He knew he ought to have asked the question more formally – Penelope deserved a grand, romantic proposal, after all – but in the moment, he had been impatient, almost frustrated by the idea of them delaying the inevitable any longer when this had been their fate the entire time. Of course they were going to get married. It was the natural, rational result to, not just what had just taken place in the carriage, but all their years together. 

Penelope was still panting slightly when she next spoke. ‘Do you mean it?’ she said breathlessly, the giddy smile still on her face.

Colin’s smile grew only wider as he gazed at her and shook his head dazedly, as if exasperated with her. He slowly stepped towards her, still sat as she leant out of the carriage, and exhaled deeply, rather overwhelmed by the radiant sight before him.

In truth, he hadn’t planned on proposing to her tonight. He had envisioned courting her first, showering her with attention and flowers and everything she deserved before popping the question. But tonight’s events in the carriage had spiralled out of control, and he was too in awe that Penelope reciprocated his feelings to slow down now. The thought of courting seemed redundant, and not just because he had compromised her – they belonged to each other. There was no one else for him, and he was certain there was no one else for her. He didn’t want to waste another second delaying something that, after what had just happened, was essentially a foregone conclusion; marriage was the only path forward, to bind their lives together. It was the future he wanted, and he was ready to embrace it with all his heart.

Colin then reached out and took both her hands in his. ‘More than I have meant anything in my entire life,’ he said, his gaze and smile adoring.

Penelope gazed back at him in awe as his eyes searched hers. She could see so clearly now that Colin was no longer trying to be someone he wasn’t; he had finally embraced who he was and what he wanted without reservation, and in being his authentic self he was affirming his commitment to her. This was a promise, and it was her greatest desire being fulfilled right before her eyes. Everything she ever wanted was right there, hers for the taking.

So, Penelope gave him the only answer available to her, the one answer to a question that she had never been more certain about in her entire life:

‘Yes.’

Colin inhaled shakily, overcome. ‘Y-yes?’ he said hopefully, squeezing her hands.

‘Yes, Colin,’ she said, giggling, ‘yes, I will marry you!’

Colin couldn’t help laughing, out of both relief and disbelief, and immediately leaned in to kiss her, his hands moving to press against her waist. Their lips met briefly, tenderly, and when they leaned apart Colin rested his forehead against hers for a moment, breathing deeply as he took it all in, and they both giggled. What a strange and wonderful feeling it was, to realise that they had found their way to one another, after all this time, and know that from this moment on, nothing would ever be the same again.

But then Colin’s face froze as something struck him. ‘Oh, God.’

‘What?’ Penelope said, half-giggling, half-panicking.

‘F-forgive me, Pen, I have not thought…’ he said, grimacing, ‘I should have asked your mother for permission first-’

But Penlope cut over him in relief. ‘No. It is my life,’ she said firmly, cupping his cheek with her hand. ‘The only one you needed to ask was me.’

Colin gazed at her breathlessly then smiled and nodded, placing his hand over hers on his cheek before intertwining their fingers and gesturing their hands towards the house. ‘Shall we tell the family?’ he asked eagerly.

Penelope’s eyes widened. ‘N-now?’

‘We do not have to,’ Colin said hastily.

‘N-no, I would…I would like that, I just…’

Penelope trailed off and shook her head in disbelief. She turned back into the carriage, feeling rather giddy. Her lips and the place between her legs were still tingling from his touch.

‘I’m still trying to process, err…this is all happening rather fast,’ she said, turning back to Colin with a bemused expression.

Colin nodded at once. ‘Y-yes, of course. Things did move…a lot quicker than I thought,’ he said, pulling an awkward face at her, and they both laughed. ‘In truth, I had no plan, I was not even sure you reciprocated my feelings before I got in the carriage…’

Penelope shook her head at him exasperatedly, a huge smile on her face. ‘I cannot believe you ran after me like that. You must have looked like a madman.’

‘I felt like one! But I had to…I had to know, I had to…I could not wait a moment longer,’ Colin said, gazing at her in awe, and his smile grew as he took a step even closer to her, still sat on the edge of the carriage. ‘I wanted to court you. That was my hope when I came after you…but then I just thought…why wait? But if you would like to, we can. We do not have to announce anything, we can do things properly.’

Penelope’s lips trembled as she smiled at him. She brought their hands up to her lips and kissed the top of his hand before caressing it, holding them tightly to her chest. She looked up at him and shook her head fondly.

‘Since when have you and I ever done things properly?’ she said, and Colin’s smile grew as she began to giggle. ‘Marriage sounds much more exciting than courting anyway.’

Colin nodded at her, an awed smile on his parted lips. ‘It certainly does,’ he said softly, his voice deep and utterly irresistible.

In fairness, the two of them had practically been courting for years now anyway, without even knowing it…exchanging private letters, calling one another by their given names, promenading, dancing, having intimate or inappropriate conversations, engaging unrestrained laughter and whispers and touches at public events…every step they had taken on their journey had been building to this monumental shift, and neither of them wanted to be stuck in the courting phase any longer. They had been each other’s person for years, the one they had always been able to turn to; what would be the point in them courting, when they already knew they loved one another?

Penelope gulped as she tore her gaze away from his to look up at his house. ‘They may be alarmed…your family. They will not be expecting this.’

Colin raised his eyebrows. ‘Oh, I’m not so sure. I doubt my mother will be too surprised,’ he said, smirking, and he looked at her earnestly. ‘Pen, they will be happy.’

Penelope considered him for a moment, then nodded. ‘Very well. Let’s tell them.’

Colin beamed the brightest, biggest beam she had ever seen, and he leaned in to kiss her forehead before taking a step back. He looked up at the carriage driver – who, admittedly, he had completely forgotten was present until now – and the driver immediately leapt down, as if he had been waiting all this time for a signal.

Penelope blushed furiously as the carriage driver sidled in awkwardly to place the step down for her to get out of the carriage. He and the footman must have heard everything during their journey back to Grosvenor Square. Everything.

Colin held his hand out for Penelope to help her down. The moment her feet touched the gravel, the footman took away the step from the carriage door, though before he did, he gave Colin an approving nod and flicker of his eyebrows; Colin grinned in delight.

Without another word, Colin then led Penelope towards the house, his hand squeezing hers before he let go briefly to straighten his tailcoat – he was still rather dishevelled after their embrace in the carriage, after all – and then bounded happily down the path towards the front door. His face was flushed, his hair was tousled, and he was sweating somewhat, but he did not care what he looked like; he just wanted to go to his family straight away and tell them the wonderful news.

Penelope’s steps slowed as Colin marched keenly ahead, and she came to a halt as she gazed up fearfully at the beautiful façade of the Bridgerton’s townhouse – the place she had once dreamed of being her home. Her chest heaved as she tried to take it all in. Her heart was still racing from the way Colin had kissed and touched her in that carriage, and now this…it was all just so much. And so surreal.

The doubt began to creep in as she wondered how the Bridgertons, especially Eloise, would take this news. She and Colin hadn’t been courting, so it would undoubtedly come as a shock. There was also the undeniable fact that everyone in the ton would think that Colin, one of the most desirable catches of the season, could do so much better than the likes of sad, pathetic Penelope Featherington. What if his family thought the same?

It took Colin a while to realise that Penelope had hung back. He paused and turned back to face her, looking so very small and scared. He stepped towards her and held out his hand, wordlessly reassuring her.

Penelope took in the tender look in his eyes. She knew he could tell that she was nervous and overwhelmed. And he was telling her, with merely his gaze, that that was all right, that he was there with her, whenever she was ready.

She reached out and placed her hand in his, for it was the most natural thing in the world, and she felt a warm fuzzy feeling spread through her as his thumb caressed her hand gently. With his touch, she found the strength to take a hesitant step forward, and then another, as he gently guided her along the path. The ton may have their opinions about them, but Penelope knew from his gaze that Colin wanted to marry her, that he was going to stand by her no matter what, and at the end of the day, that was all that really mattered.

They kept their eyes fixed on one another as Colin led Penelope towards the wisteria-draped front entryway. Colin then turned towards the door as they climbed the steps, his expression proud and determined, his cravat still a mess from where Penelope had clung at him in the carriage. Penelope followed his gaze, feeling a little like she was watching this all unfold from outside her own body as one of the footmen opened the door to them and let them inside. If the footman felt any surprise upon seeing Colin enter Bridgerton House with his hand clutching that of his old female friend, he did not show it.

Penelope gazed back up at Colin, still stunned as he led them across the foyer. He looked so excited to share the news with his family, to bring Penelope into the fold, to welcome her into the home where she was most free and at ease. It made her almost want to cry, but she felt too numb over tonight’s whirlwind of events to do that. It bemused her that Colin did not appear worried or in any way apprehensive at all; not about how his family would react, or the fact that they were rather rushing into things – although, technically, they had been inappropriately close as friends for so long, was it really rushing? Penelope wasn’t sure.

‘Are you all right?’ Colin asked her softly as they climbed the stairs together.

Penelope looked up at him and nodded, a small smile falling on her trembling lips.

He seemed to read her mind at once. ‘Do not be nervous,’ he said, stroking her hand as they went. ‘You are sure? About your answer?’

Penelope smiled and nodded. ‘Of course I’m sure,’ she said; how could she not be?

A giddy smile spread on Colin’s face. ‘Well, then. That is all that matters,’ he said, and he kissed the top of her hand as they reached the top of the stairs.

He knew that they perhaps ought to wait to announce things properly tomorrow during the day – after all, he didn’t even know which of his family members were still awake and about – but he was too impatient, and he was simply bursting to tell everyone. He had spent these past few weeks doubting and hesitating, and he did not want to wait anymore. Life was short; what was the point in delaying or complicating things when fate had brought them together? They had always been one family, he and Penelope. And now they could at last be free to be each other’s completely, with no inhibitions.

Penelope was in a complete daze, almost a state of shock, as they walked hand-in-hand along the corridor. She couldn’t believe this was all really happening. It felt like the walls were tilting and spinning, and she could feel time slowing as they got closer and closer to the Bridgerton drawing room. She looked up; Colin was still gazing at her as they walked on, and he began to smile warmly at her before leading her inside.

Penelope could feel her heart thumping heavily against her chest as they entered; Lady Bridgerton, Francesca and Hyacinth were all stood by the chess table next to the pianoforte, their backs turned to them. They were chattering away and laughing at something.

Colin’s hand was still clutching Penelope’s tightly as they walked through into the drawing room. He turned back to Penelope, his face adorably excited as he leaned closer to her, clutching her hand with both of his. He felt as if he could barely contain himself. It was all too good to be true. Merely two hours ago when he had last been in the house, he had been drowning in self-pity, believing to have lost Penelope forever to someone else. Thank God it turned out that he had inherited his father’s courage, after all.

Squeezing her hand and smiling reassuringly at her, for she still looked incredibly dazed about what was happening, Colin then slowly released his hold of her and moved towards his family.

Penelope watched him go, her hand instinctively reaching out after him as he stepped away. She did not want Colin to let go or leave her, not when she could barely think or process anything. She felt dizzy, and she needed him. She couldn’t believe what he had just said and done to her in the carriage. She couldn’t believe he had proposed. She couldn’t believe she was stood here in his family’s drawing room. She couldn’t believe any of it.

Colin took a few steps forward, but still no one in his family had noticed or heard his arrival. He had been hoping to announce the happy news to them properly – poetically, even, with a dramatic build-up for good measure.

But now the moment had come, he was far too excited to plan a big speech, so instead all he blurted out triumphantly was: ‘We are engaged!’

The words had sounded muffled to Penelope, as if she had been hearing them from underwater or from within a dark tunnel. But then she finally heard the words, and believed them. She felt herself snap back to reality and the world right itself as a giddy smile began to spread on her face. This wonderful thing was truly happening to her, right now, this very instant. She wasn’t used to it at all, but it was a relief to finally let herself enjoy the moment.

Violet Bridgerton turned around at Colin’s words and clapped eyes on Penelope. The way her face lit up in delight was something Penelope knew she would never ever forget.

‘Oh!’ Violet exclaimed, as Hyacinth gasped loudly and Francesca’s face broke out in an adorable beam.

While Violet rushed to put her drink down, Hyacinth ran at once to fling her arms around Penelope, and Francesca hugged Colin.

Joyful laughter and gasps filled the room as they all embraced. Colin clutched Francesca tightly, laughing a deep, joyful laugh as he glanced over Francesca’s shoulder to see that Hyacinth was practically suffocating Penelope as she clung onto her.

Penelope felt rather overwhelmed as Hyacinth squeezed her. She wasn’t used to physical affection like this at all, but she quite liked it. Was this what it was like, to have such a close, loving family? Could she really be becoming a part of it?

‘Hyacinth,’ Colin chastised, beaming, ‘I do not think Penelope can breathe.’

Violet then approached him, laughing as well, with a knowing smile on her face as if to say: I knew you had it in you.

The mother and son embraced, and when they leaned away, Colin gave Violet a proud nod and grateful smile. I did it, Mother. Thank you.

Without her words by the stairs in the foyer earlier, Colin dreaded to think what would have happened tonight. Both he and Penelope could have gone down very different paths indeed.

Hyacinth was rather breathless and overcome as she finally released her hold of Penelope. ‘It is just...we have known Penelope for all these years, and now she will be my sister!’ she said, simply beside herself with joy, and she flung her arms around Penelope again.

Penelope was shocked. Her fears were completely unfounded; the family did not just seem happy, they seemed delighted. They were treating her like she had always been another honorary sibling, and it meant the world to her.

Violet laughed, looking utterly thrilled. ‘I am delighted for you both,’ she said, and as Hyacinth moved away to attack Colin, Violet approached Penelope, holding both her hands out to her.

‘Thank you, Lady Bridgerton,’ Penelope said, her voice soft and timid, almost as if she were a little girl again, as she took in Violet’s warm gaze and the feel of her hands in hers.

Chuckling, Violet then reached forward and embraced Penelope in a hug. Penelope clutched onto her and closed her eyes. She felt close to tears; she couldn’t remember the last time she had been held like this, as though by a mother. When she had been young, she had often wondered what she would have given simply just to live in this house with this family, to be right at Colin’s side, to be a part of his lovely world filled with warmth and love and what everything a real family ought to be.  She had dreamed of being a part of this family for so many years, and to receive such instant acceptance from Violet was both heartwarming and incredibly healing for Penelope.

She was no longer in shock or full of fear, Penelope then realised. She was happy. Incandescently happy.

‘What is your sour expression for?’ Francesca then asked.

Penelope broke apart from Violet and turned; she hadn’t even noticed Gregory stood there by the settees, in his pyjamas with his arm still in its sling from his accident the other week.

‘I cannot believe you shall be married before I am old enough to go to one tavern with you,’ Gregory said to Colin, pulling a frustrated face.

Colin tilted his head and smiled at him. ‘Hmm, I am sorry about that, Brother.’

They all chuckled away, still extremely giddy. Penelope was bemused; the fact that she and Colin had not even been courting prior to becoming engaged did not seem to be much of an issue to any of them. Perhaps their betrothal was not as surprising as Penelope had feared it might be. Perhaps the Bridgertons had seen that there was something there between them.

Or perhaps this was all a dream – Penelope still couldn’t tell.

It was only after the laughter died down that they all then turned to face the remaining person in the room – the one person who had remained entirely silent and frozen from the moment Colin had brought Penelope inside.

Penelope’s smile faded at once as she met Eloise’s icy glare. She had been stood at the other end of the room, unnoticed, this whole time. She looked utterly devastated. She clearly couldn’t believe it.

An awkward silence fell as everyone waited for Eloise to say something.

Eloise’s lip trembled as she glanced around at her family looking at her expectantly, clearly judging her, clearly wondering what on earth her problem was.

Breathing shakily, Eloise began to move towards the door. ‘Excuse me,’ she said, her cold eyes fixed on Penelope, and she marched out, sounding as if she might burst into tears.

Penelope watched her go, her face falling in despair.

Colin swallowed and moved to follow her, but Penelope held a hand out to him.

‘Let me. Please,’ she said, her voice barely more than a whisper, and, with a nod, Penelope then turned away and headed out into the hall.

Colin stared after Penelope as she left, his jaw clenching. He felt rather annoyed; this was the happiest moment of his life, and he did not want to let Eloise ruin it for them both. Whatever petty squabble had occurred between the two of them, surely Eloise could put it aside for the sake of her brother’s happiness?

Violet reached out and put a hand on his shoulder sympathetically. ‘Leave them to it. They will resolve their quarrel, I am sure of it,’ she reassured him.

Colin nodded uneasily. ‘Yes, I am sure you are right.’

‘So, uh, Brother…’ Francesca said slyly, grinning at him, ‘did you challenge Lord Debling to a duel or…?’

Colin threw his head back and laughed. ‘Lord Debling is…no longer in the picture,’ he said, and he frowned slightly; he suddenly felt rather bad for the disrespectful way in which he had acted towards the man.

‘Well, I should hope not,’ Violet said quietly, pressing a hand to her stomach.

‘And how did all this come about?’ Francesca asked Colin teasingly.

‘Yes, you must tell us!’ Hyacinth insisted. ‘Truly, Brother, I do not believe I have ever seen you so happy.’

‘She’s right,’ Gregory chipped in.

Colin felt his cheeks begin to warm as he looked down and smiled. ‘Indeed. I do not believe I have ever felt so happy,’ he said softly, before looking up at them all. ‘And it is all thanks to Penelope.’

While his mother and siblings ‘ooh’ed and ‘aw’ed and melted at Colin’s words, on the other side of the door, Penelope was hurrying after Eloise into the corridor, her heart thudding in dread.

‘Eloise,’ Penelope said urgently, striding along. ‘Eloise, wait.’

Eloise halted and rounded on her. ‘My brother?’ she said furiously, taking a few steps towards Penelope, her expression murderous. ‘Are you quite serious?’

Her voice cracked as she spoke. Penelope was devastated; she had felt awful enough having betrayed Eloise once at the end of last season, but to have unwittingly betrayed her a second time was more than she could bear.

‘For how long has this been going on?’ Eloise asked, her voice strained; she sounded as if she was about to break down into tears at any moment.

‘It is very new, I am just as surprised as you are,’ Penelope replied sincerely.

‘For how long have you had feelings for him?’

Eloise seemed to know she had got her there; Penelope merely stared back at her helplessly, her mouth trembling as she exhaled, trying to think of what to say. She could hear Colin laughing with his mother in the drawing room, which didn’t help matters. There had never been a time, ever since the Bridgertons had entered Penelope’s life, where she hadn’t had feelings for Colin. But if she told Eloise that, it would destroy her, for it would mean that there had been another secret, another lie, between them, for the entirety of their friendship.

Eloise took a step back and shook her head bitterly. ‘Do not answer that, I do not want to know,’ she said tearfully, looking away.

Penelope looked down at the floor, crestfallen. Her elation at hearing Colin’s announcement and seeing his happy family’s reaction had immediately been eradicated. She had known deep down – although she had been trying not to think about it from the moment she had left the carriage – that Eloise would not have responded well to this unexpected development, but the reality was so much worse than she could ever have anticipated.

‘You cannot marry him!’ Eloise then said incredulously, her voice loud and angry as she glared at Penelope.

Penelope breathed shakily and closed her eyes before glancing back in the direction of the drawing room; she did not want Colin overhearing this. ‘Eloise...-’ she began, taking a step towards her, but Eloise cut over her sharply.

‘Does he know? That you are Whistledown?’ she demanded through gritted teeth.

Penelope looked anxiously back at the drawing room doorway, panicking. ‘No, he does not know. Please,’ she said desperately, holding her hands out. ‘Eloise, please do not tell him.’

‘Colin is not like Lord Debling. He will not be gone for years at a time. He will find out,’ Eloise said, clearly in agony, and Penelope’s face crumpled as she took in her words and realised them to be true. ‘And until he knows the real you, he cannot possibly love you.’

She practically spat the last words. They cut through Penelope like knives.

Penelope pressed her lips together, her eyes watering, as she tried to maintain her composure, and she gave a miserable nod. Eloise was right. Of course she was. If Colin did not know the whole truth about Penelope, then he would not really love her whole, true self, only the part of who he thought she was. But what Eloise was saying was Penelope’s worst fear: that Colin would not be able to love her once he found out the truth. Because it wasn’t just a fear – it was a very likely outcome.

Penelope sniffled loudly. ‘You are right. But...please,’ she said breathlessly, fighting back tears as Eloise reluctantly met her watery gaze. ‘Just let him hear it from me. I just need…a little time to find the right moment. But I will tell him, you have my word.’

Eloise turned away, still seething. Then, she slowly reached up to brush a stray tear away from her cheek, and turned sceptically to Penelope.

‘Very well,’ she whispered, her voice breaking.

Eloise then turned on her heel and walked away, choking back sobs as she went.

Penelope stared after her, breathing heavily. She had been so giddy before, so dazed, so happy. Now all she could feel was misery, dread and guilt.

She then heard footsteps emerge behind her; Colin had come out into the corridor to check on her.

‘What happened?’ Colin asked, approaching Penelope.

He frowned in concern; Penelope’s eyes were bloodshot, and she looked absolutely shattered.

Penelope fidgeted with her hands and tried to regain some control of her expression as she shook her head and closed her eyes. ‘She is upset, understandably,’ she said.

She tried to avoid his gaze, but could not, for she could feel his eyes, so warm and caring, fixed on her face. She gazed back up at him, her face torn in anguish, Eloise’s words ringing painfully in her ears.

Colin nodded slowly, knowing that now was not the time to interrogate Penelope on what exactly was the foundation of her and Eloise’s quarrel. It made him so sad to see her this way. His best friend, his love, his bride-to-be, should not be suffering in any way on the night they had become engaged.

He then reached for her and gently took both her hands in his. ‘All will be well,’ he said softly. ‘I am sure of it.’

His earnest eyes searched her face, and he gave her a warm, reassuring smile and a gentle nod. It was so hard to not believe him when he was looking at her like that, but Penelope still wasn’t convinced.

She forced a half-hearted nod back at him, though her eyes flickered down.

‘Trust me,’ Colin said, squeezing her hands. ‘Whatever has happened between the two of you – and I will not pry – but…she will move past it. It is you, after all.’

Penelope raised her eyebrows at him. ‘You say that like it such a good thing,’ she said, her voice wavering slightly.

Colin’s warm smile grew. ‘It is the best thing.’

Her lips trembled as she smiled back at him, but she found herself blinking tears away. She couldn’t stop thinking about the look on Eloise’s face, or the harsh, biting truth of her words about Colin and Lady Whistledown.

Colin’s heart sank as he watched her. She was in utter turmoil.

‘Pen, I…I realise I put you on the spot earlier, it was all rather quick,’ he said apologetically, ‘if-if you do not want this, if you have changed your mind-’

‘No. No. Never,’ Penelope said at once, clutching his hands desperately and moving closer to him. ‘Forgive me, Eloise has just…I want this. I want you. If you…if you are sure you want me.’

Colin tilted his head at her, a teasing smile on his face.  ‘Hmm…well, I might have to give it some thought first…’ he said playfully.

He slowly leant down to kiss her; a smile instinctively appearing on her lips, Penelope stretched up on her tiptoes and closed her eyes –

But then they jumped apart as they were interrupted by a collective shriek of both horror and mirth.

Alarmed, Colin and Penelope turned to see that Hyacinth and Gregory had emerged out in the corridor, and they looked as if they had never seen something so outrageous.

‘Really? Am I not allowed to kiss my future bride?’ Colin said, unimpressed, but he was unable to stop grinning at them as his two younger siblings burst into hysterical laughter.

Penelope couldn’t help giggling at the pair of them. They were so endearing, so loveable. It was still so hard to comprehend that they were to be her family now.

Violet and Francesca then joined them out in the corridor, curious to see what all the fuss was about.

Violet rolled her eyes, amused. ‘Oh, children, you need not make such a fuss. Although, you two, I should remind you that you are not wed just yet,’ she said, eyeing Penelope and Colin pointedly, and they both blushed and took a slight step back from each other. ‘Now, the hour is very late, we should all be bed, and Penelope, your mother must be worried about where you are.’

‘Oh, I…I very much doubt it,’ Penelope said awkwardly.

Violet frowned reproachfully. ‘Of course she will,’ she said, as if she could not comprehend anything else.

Colin smiled and looked back at Penelope. ‘I shall take you home,’ he said.

‘Thank you,’ Penelope said softly, her gaze ever so briefly falling to his lips as she let herself wonder what their brief trip to her house across the street would entail…

Violet cleared her throat. ‘Is, uh, is that your carriage I saw still outside, Penelope?’ she asked.

‘Y-yes, it must be,’ Penelope said, her cheeks reddening, ‘I-I forgot to send them back to the house.’

‘It is no matter, I shall join you both,’ Violet said decisively, gathering the skirts of her ballgown as she moved over to join them.

Colin’s eyes widened in alarm. ‘Oh…th-that is not necessary.’

‘N-not in the carriage, no,’ Penelope said almost instantaneously.

Violet halted at once, looking rather perturbed. ‘Oh-oh.’

Colin swallowed as he saw his mother sweep her eyes carefully over the two of them. He saw her take in his loose shirt, his ruffled hair, his messy cravat, the slight patches on the knees of his trousers. He glanced sideways at Penelope; her hair was still mostly in place, but her makeup was slightly smudged…and there was a small red mark visible on her cleavage from where his lips had tugged on her skin.

He forced an uneasy smile back at Violet, hoping, praying, that she would feign ignorance and act as if she hadn’t noticed any of this.

Francesca, Hyacinth and Gregory were all eyeing them, utterly bemused, as they waited for Violet to speak.

‘Err…’ Violet began, her hand moving to her hair as her eyes darted around awkwardly.

‘Mother, it is fine, Penelope’s house is merely across the square, we can walk,’ Colin said airily. ‘I shall escort her, you need not trouble yourself with-’

But Violet interrupted him firmly. ‘Colin.’

‘V-very well,’ he said at once, floundering under her stern gaze. ‘You may accompany us.’

A few minutes later found Colin, Penelope and Violet leaving the house together, having just sent the Featherington carriage on its way back to Featherington House. Grosvenor Square lay silent and ethereal beneath the silvery shroud of the moonlight. The grand townhouses, with their classical façades and pillared porticoes, cast long shadows upon the cobblestones, their windows darkened save for the occasional flicker of a candle or the soft glow of a late-burning lamp. The great elm trees stood as silent sentinels, their leaves rustling gently in the cool, summer breeze. The air was thick with the scent of blooming night jasmine, mingling with the distant echo of horse hooves and the occasional murmur of a night watchman making his rounds.

Violet walked along briskly as they headed towards Featherington House, her steps light and animated, as though her very soul was dancing with delight after Colin’s surprise announcement.

Beside her, Colin and Penelope moved arm-in-arm with somewhat unsteady steps, as if they were floating on a cloud. Penelope, her cheeks flushed a delicate pink, seemed to still be in a daze, her wide eyes reflecting the starry sky above as she tried to focus on the dear man linking her arm and not her former friend she had left in tears back at Bridgerton House. Colin had never looked so proud, and he kept glancing down at Penelope, as if checking to see that she was still real, while Penelope clung to his arm.

Violet was speaking animatedly to them both about their betrothal as they walked across the square, and Colin was quite sure he had never heard his mother speak so fast or so enthusiastically – suddenly, he could see where Hyacinth had got it all from.

‘Oh, it is so very exciting! We must host a soirée at the house to celebrate, an engagement party is just what you need – if you would like, of course – and we will also need to arrange to meet the Minister so we can decide on a date,’ Violet gushed. ‘I am assuming you will not want to drag this out into a long engagement, I am sure we will be able to secure a date for the wedding before the end of the season if you should desire it-’

Colin merely let his mother continue to talk excitedly and he smiled away, too smitten and dazed to fully discuss the details of everything now, although he very much looked forward to doing so from tomorrow onwards. He had never longed for the sound of church bells – especially not after the disaster with Marina Thompson – but now all he could hear was the music of those bells ringing, their chimes playing out beautiful melodies of love all around. And it was all because of Penelope.

When they reached Featherington House, Colin caught Violet’s eye; a small smile appearing on her lips, she bid farewell to Penelope, took a few steps away and turned her back, waiting around the corner as she let her companions take the final few paces alone.

Grateful to have some privacy, even if just for a moment, Colin took Penelope’s hand and led her up the steps to her house. He exhaled rather shakily as he looked down at her and took in her awed, wide-eyed gaze. He suddenly had no idea what to say.

‘Well. What a night!’ he ended up blurting out.

Penelope raised her eyebrows at him, and they both burst out laughing.

Once they had calmed down, Penelope began to shake her head. ‘Colin…’

‘Yes?’ Colin said softly.

She hesitated as she gazed up at him. ‘Is this real?’ she asked, her voice small and timid.

A warm smile spread on Colin’s face. ‘I certainly hope so.’

Penelope looked giddy, and still in disbelief. ‘B-but…forgive me, I am still a little…in shock.’

‘I understand,’ Colin said, taking both her hands in his. ‘So am I, really. But you are happy?’

‘Happy? Colin, I…I am delighted,’ Penelope said, an adorable little giggle escaping her mouth as she beamed up at him in bewilderment. ‘I just never could have thought this would ever happen.’

‘Me neither. May I call on you tomorrow?’ he said, leaning closer to her, as his thumb caressed her hand.

‘Of course,’ Penelope said, nodding eagerly, but then her face began to fall as she realised what she had to do next. ‘You do realise we were probably seen. And…the carriage drivers, well…they heard. And the servants at your family’s house…It will probably get out in Whistledown before we know it.’

She swallowed as she said the words, and hoped desperately that he did not see the guilt in her eyes.

Colin appeared unperturbed. ‘Then let it,’ he said with a shrug. ‘I want the world to know.’

Penelope gazed at him in awe. ‘You really mean that, don’t you?’

Colin smiled softly at her and nodded. ‘I do,’ he said, and he kissed the top of her hand before moving to a lower step. ‘I shall bid you goodnight, Pen. Sleep well.’

‘Goodnight…’ Penelope said, still hardly able to process what was happening, and then, without thinking, without even considering the words she longed to say, she called after him. ‘Colin…it is a shame. That we were not able to, uh, come here in the carriage.’

She blushed furiously as Colin raised his eyebrows at her in pleasant surprise, a delighted grin spreading on his face. She knew she ought not to say such a thing, but she couldn’t help it. That carriage journey would be on her mind for every second of the rest of this night, and she wanted Colin to know that. She wouldn’t get a wink of sleep, that was for sure.

Colin lowered his voice as he approached her, his heart racing. ‘It is a very great shame,’ he said, his eyebrows flickering as he came to a stop mere inches from her. ‘We shall have to remedy that situation soon, I think.’

Penelope swallowed. ‘That…that would be most agreeable,’ she said, nodding rather rapidly.

She pressed her lips together before chuckling, embarrassed with herself. Colin gazed at her as she laughed and blushed, completely enamoured, before glancing behind him to check their surroundings. Violet was still some distance away, out of earshot, her back turned to them, and elsewhere in the square the coast was clear.

Grinning, Colin turned back to Penelope and pressed his lips firmly to hers, his arms moving around her waist. She kissed him back, her arms resting on his shoulders, and when they broke apart, she had the most magical, infectious beam on her face.

Drinking in the sight of her, Colin then reluctantly released his hold of her and rapped his knuckle against the door of her house, which opened merely a few seconds later.

With a final glance and smirk back at Colin, Penelope then whispered another ‘goodnight’ and slipped inside, leaving the night once more to its quietude.

Colin headed back down the Featherington House steps, a giddy smile plastered all over his face, and he sighed deeply when he joined his mother out on the pavement. He met her tender, delighted gaze and they both beamed at each other.

‘Well, Mother…I gathered the courage to ask,’ he said triumphantly.

Tears were forming in Violet’s eyes as she closed the distance between them, and she hugged her son tightly. She looked like she had never been prouder or happier, and Colin even felt a little tearful himself as they broke apart.

Violet smiled at Colin and stroked his cheek before linking his arm. ‘My dear,’ she said fondly. ‘I am so happy for you. I knew you would come to your senses.’

Colin laughed. ‘Thanks to you. You did say that Penelope would be getting a proposal tonight, after all,’ he reminded her.

Violet smirked back at him, clearly proud of herself. ‘I certainly did.’

The two of them then turned and began to walk back across the square arm-in-arm, the night air cool against their cheeks, and Colin realised in that moment that, for the very first time in his life, he was excited about his future.

Chapter Text

As Penelope dazedly walked through the silent house, she found herself disappointed, but not at all surprised, that her mother did not venture out into the corridor to check on her. She knew that Portia must have returned home from the ball shortly after Penelope had left, for her cloak had been hung up and Penelope could overhear Mrs. Varley calling down to the kitchens to make some warm milk for their mistress. Penelope couldn’t fathom how any mother could have seen their daughter so distraught, to the point of running off in tears, and then not even bother to see if she was well.

But at least she could depend on one person in the house to be there for her.

When she entered her bedchamber, Penelope found Rae, tidying away some things on her vanity table. The moment Penelope opened the door, Rae spun around and a relieved smile fell on her face. She had clearly been waiting for her this whole time.

‘Oh…forgive me, Rae,’ Penelope said, exhaling, ‘I did not mean for you to stay up so late waiting for me…’

‘It is no trouble at all, miss, and it is not late, do not worry,’ Rae said reassuringly. ‘I actually thought you would be at the ball longer.’

‘N-no, I…I left early, I…’

Penelope trailed off, her heart pounding as she stared into the distance, still not quite able to comprehend what had transpired over the last hour. The most monumental hour of her entire life thus far.

Rae frowned at her in concern. ‘Miss, are you well?’ she asked gently, stepping towards her.

‘Yes,’ Penelope replied, and a shaky smile began to spread on her face. ‘Very well, in fact.’

Rae raised her eyebrows. ‘How did it go?’ she prompted.

A pause fell. Penelope wasn’t sure where on earth to begin.

In the end, she decided on proclaiming the single, most important, fact: ‘I am engaged!’ she said breathlessly.

Rae’s smile looked rather strained. ‘Oh. Congratulations, miss,’ she said, nodding at her. ‘Lord Debling will make a fine husband, I am sure.’

‘Oh…oh, no, I, uh…’

Penelope grimaced. She felt rather guilty; she had almost completely forgotten about Lord Debling.

She swallowed rather loudly. ‘It is not Lord Debling I am engaged to, Rae,’ she said, her tone of voice almost nervous.

Penelope gave Rae a knowing look. Rae stared at her, as if trying to understand what she meant. Her eyes slowly began to grow wider.

And then Rae shrieked out in delight. ‘Oh, thank goodness!’ she exclaimed, and she rushed forward to grasp both Penelope’s arms.

Penelope giggled. It brought her so much joy to see Rae’s reaction; she was not just her maid, she was her friend who had been here with her these past few months, seeing and understanding everything.

‘So, you are soon to be Mrs. Bridgerton?’ Rae said, beaming.

‘I am,’ Penelope said, shaking her head in bemusement. ‘I really am.’

They both chuckled, almost delirious with excitement.

The two of them gushed for a while about this unexpected turn of events and what it would mean for their future – Penelope was adamant that Rae would be freed from this house as well, and come to wherever she and Colin went once they were wed – although Penelope did not go into any detail about what exactly had occurred in the carriage. She was fairly sure that Rae cottoned on though, particularly when Penelope asked if she could draw her a bath to wash herself tonight, rather than wait until the morning as usual.

Once Penelope was all ready for bed and cozy in her silky dressing gown, she bid Rae goodnight and then once left alone her face fell and she turned at once to sit at her desk. Sleep could wait; right now, she needed to tend to the urgent task that she had known she must undertake the moment she had arrived back at the house.

Dearest Reader,

Penelope wrote the words somewhat sombrely, the only sounds filling her bedchamber that of the quill scratching against the parchment while the flames in her fireplace flickered away and the breeze rattled against her window. She knew that she ought to be tired, given the hour and all that had happened tonight, but she felt more awake than ever. She supposed it was the adrenaline keeping her going.

A part of her couldn’t help feeling rather bitter. This should have been the time for her to kick and scream and giggle and dance around her room, to rejoice about finally having the boy she had loved all her life…not to set to work and be consumed with guilt and turmoil. But she knew she had no choice. Colin had proposed to her and kissed her in the middle of the street; anyone could have seen them. The carriage driver and footman had heard the sounds of their scandalous embrace on the journey back to Grosvenor Square, and the windows had been wide open for all of Mayfair to witness. It would be too suspicious if Lady Whistledown had no knowledge of their very public display and did not report on it immediately. Besides, she had to protect their reputations; Portia had been telling everyone in the ton who would listen that Lord Debling was going to propose to her, then Colin had publicly interrupted their dance, and someone must have no doubt seen either her or Colin running out of the ballroom. Penelope – or rather, Lady Whistledown – needed to set things straight as soon as possible with this new issue, before the chatter got too out of hand.

Penelope paused for a moment, her quill poised mid-air. By writing what she was about to write, it felt irreversible. It felt real. And yet how could it be real? She still couldn’t fathom it.

While most seasons of our fair marriage mart follow a predictable pattern, this author likes it most when there is a surprise.

It is said that surprise is one part secrecy and one part speed. And last night, an announcement came with great speed, indeed.

Penelope swallowed uncomfortably as she continued. Eloise’s expression from out in the corridor back at Bridgerton House felt burned onto her eyes.

‘And until he knows the real you, he cannot possibly love you!’

Penelope understood Eloise’s anger and her position, of course she did. But Penelope could not help but feel that her words had felt like a personal attack…that Eloise could not imagine that anyone who knew her true identity could possibly ever see her as worthy of love, for Eloise clearly did not. Penelope had told herself that she could never be loved countless times of course, simply out of habit from how her family had raised her, but also to protect her heart. And yet for years, Penelope had believed that Eloise was the one person in her whole life who actually, truly loved her. To hear now that her opinion of her was so low had been heart-wrenching.

Eloise was right, though, of course she was right. Which left just one question: how long would this engagement even last? Penelope could feel the tears building, but she tried to ignore them as she scribbled away, the desperation growing within her.

It may come as a surprise to all that Mr. Bridgerton’s rumoured assistance in helping Miss Featherington find a husband has, instead, led to the two of them finding each other.

Regardless of how it happened, it is surely a wonderful time for the happy couple.

Was it wrong, what she was doing? Should she wait a day or two before publishing this news, to allow Colin some time to reconsider if he wanted to? The last thing she wanted to do was in any way entrap him, after all…particularly when he did not yet know all the facts about his future bride. But then again, she wouldn’t really be doing her job as Lady Whistledown if she held back on this information. Besides, having it out there in the world would make it more real for her – and Penelope was so desperate for it to be real, for this to truly be happening…even with her secret hanging over her head, dragging her down.

You should tell him first. You need to tell him first.

But Penelope did not want to listen to reason. It was too terrifying. She had finally got everything she had ever wanted; she did not want to lose it all in the same day.

Penelope wiped away a tear as she stared down at the paper. It was sad, to write about how happy she and Colin must be when that was not the full story. Yes, of course she was happy, and Colin seemed ecstatic, as well…but how could she give herself over to her joy completely, when that nagging little voice at the back of her head was giving her the horrible feeling that she was betraying Colin by publishing this issue without him knowing the whole truth?

Nevertheless, that voice did not stop her from finishing writing the rest of the issue, quickly dressing into her Whistledown attire and dark cloak, and sneaking outside to meet the footman by the carriage.

‘An eventful night for you, Miss Featherington,’ the footman said as he helped her up into the carriage, and Penelope, blushing, raised her eyebrows at him; he flinched and began blinking rapidly. ‘F-forgive me, I meant no-’

‘You will be well-rewarded for your silence,’ Penelope said in a hushed, firm voice, her hand clutching the papers for the latest Whistledown issue tightly. ‘I cannot wait for Madame Delacroix tomorrow, this is an urgent matter.’

The footman nodded promptly. ‘Understood, miss.’

And so off they went, in the middle of the night, to the printer’s…before Penelope could change her mind.

***

Colin had barely slept all through the night, and yet he did not feel at all exhausted when he got out of bed the next morning. He had been up for hours packing away some of his belongings and making arrangements; he knew it may be rather eager of him, but he wanted to get things settled for his and Penelope’s life as newlyweds, and that meant preparing to set up their new home. He wanted to make it as perfect as possible so that it would feel truly theirs.

Today’s Lady Whistledown paper arrived shortly after breakfast and, to Colin’s delight, his and Penelope’s betrothal was mentioned. He was flabbergasted as to how Whistledown had already heard of their news and managed to report on it so quickly, particularly given that he and Penelope had been nowhere near the rest of the ton at the ball when he had proposed, but for once he was not at all annoyed by the gossip writer’s edition today; on the contrary, he was secretly very pleased that she had found out so soon. It made it so much more real, and now he could shout it from the rooftops and celebrate with the world.

Colin was quite taken aback by this new feeling enveloping him, a feeling that was such a sharp contrast to how he had been merely this time yesterday. He did not need the sun to shine anymore to cheer his spirits. He did not need an endless selection of tasty pastries and sweets or liquor to preoccupy himself with. He did not need any validation from anyone. He did not need anything at all, other than his bride-to-be. He could ride up in a hot air balloon to the top of the world, and yet still that would not make him feel as high with happiness as simply knowing that he had the rest of his life with Penelope as his wife to look forward to.

He was in the drawing room, stroking Newton and gazing out at Featherington House with a giddy smirk on his face as he thought back to last night in the carriage, when Violet then entered.

‘Have you seen today’s Whistledown?’ Violet asked, raising her eyebrows as she walked over to join Colin by the window.

‘I have indeed,’ Colin said, smiling proudly.

‘How on earth that woman found out about this so quickly, I have no idea,’ Violet said wearily, bending down to stroke Newton’s ears. ‘I thought we were the only ones you told last night.’

‘Y-yes, you were, but…well…I did make rather a fool of myself in public at the ball last night,’ Colin said, running a hand through his hair awkwardly, ‘everyone will have seen me interrupt Penelope’s dance with Lord Debling-’

‘Oh, Colin, you did not,’ Violet said, her expression stern but amused.

He gave her a rather shifty look, his lips twitching. ‘Everyone there will have seen, they will have put two and two together… and then the servants will have known-’

‘I trust our servants, none of them would be Lady Whistledown.’

‘I agree, but you know how quickly gossip can spread,’ Colin pointed out. ‘And there is also the Featherington carriage driver and footman…’

‘Why would the Featherington carriage driver and footman be of concern?’ Violet asked, frowning.

Colin’s eyes widened slightly. ‘N-no reason,’ he said, after a moments’ hesitation.

Violet stared at him for a moment then closed her eyes. ‘Oh, good Lord,’ she muttered under her breath.

‘Anyway, it is done now,’ Colin said firmly, his cheeks reddening slightly. ‘However Lady Whistledown found out, it does not matter, for she was going to discover it and write about it at the first opportunity anyway. And why shouldn’t she? It is a joyous occasion, is it not? I want the ton to know.’

‘Yes. Quite right,’ Violet said, and she smiled before moving over to him and handing over a small silver key. ‘Now, err…I believe you wanted the key? To the apartment.’

‘Yes. Thank you, Mother,’ Colin said, grinning at the key enthusiastically before tucking it away in his pocket.

The apartment in question was in the same charming building as Anthony’s old bachelor lodgings in Bedford Square, a very pleasant neighbourhood in Bloomsbury. It had been owned by the Bridgerton family for years, simply waiting for one of them to have need of it. Colin had a good feeling about that place. He was sure that Penelope would like it – and if she did not, then they would find somewhere else, whatever and wherever she wanted. Anything to ensure her happiness.

A wistful look fell on Violet’s face as she watched him. ‘You have only been engaged a few hours, and yet you are already so eager to fly the nest,’ she said quietly, and Colin could tell she was trying to keep the sadness from her voice.

Colin tilted his head at her. ‘It is not that,’ he reassured her. ‘I merely wish to have everything ready so that when Penelope and I move in after we are wed, it will be all set up for her.’

‘Of course,’ Violet said, nodding. ‘You will both of course be more than welcome to live here, you know.’

Colin raised his eyebrows at her, smiling. ‘Should you really be the one saying that?’

‘I will move into a Dower house eventually, I will,’ Violet said earnestly, though Colin didn’t find her at all convincing. ‘And we both know Anthony and Kate will say exactly the same anyway.’

‘Yes. And I do appreciate that,’ Colin said sincerely. ‘But…for the first few months, at least, I would like Pen and I to live together just the two of us. It will be an adjustment, and I do not want to overwhelm her by thrusting her into this madhouse just yet.’

Violet chuckled. ‘That is very wise,’ she said, and she exhaled deeply. ‘Now, I have many errands to run today but if I have time I shall visit the church to see if I can arrange an appointment with the Minister to decide on a date for the wedding.’

‘Thank you, Mother, that is most kind of you.’

‘Nonsense, I am happy to be of help,’ Violet said, waving her hand. ‘And I would very much like to host a soirée for you both, to celebrate your engagement. Here, if possible.’

A large smile spread on Colin’s face. ‘I would like that as well.’

‘We should do it as soon as possible, so you and Penelope do not have to wait long before celebrating properly,’ Violet said, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. ‘I wonder if the day after tomorrow would suit, or would that not give people enough notice?’

‘I think that should be fine, as long as the people who matter are there,’ Colin said, and he tilted his head at her. ‘Are you sure you and Mrs. Wilson could put together such an event so quickly?’

Violet raised her eyebrows at him. ‘Colin, do you know me?’

Colin grinned. ‘Good point.’

A tender smile fell on Violet’s face, and she reached out to brush his arm gently. ‘Do you know, my dear, I do not think I have ever seen you so…filled with joy,’ she said, sounding slightly dazed.

Colin dipped his chin, as if a little embarrassed, and he looked back up to smile at her. ‘The magic of falling in love with one’s dearest friend, I suppose,’ he said.

‘Yes,’ Violet said softly. ‘I know that magic well.’

She gazed at him for a moment, her eyes suddenly rather wet with tears, and then, with a fond smile, she cupped his cheek, and left him to it.

Colin inhaled shakily as he turned back to Featherington House, and he chuckled to himself as he stared through the window. Love had turned him into a giddy fool, it seemed. It was making him see things in such a different way – even, to his utter surprise, himself.

If someone as wonderful as Penelope could think him good enough to marry, then surely he could think that of himself as well. Colin had never particularly regarded himself that highly, not even when he had been putting on his charming, confident persona before Penelope had stoked the fire in his heart…but now? Now, he felt like he was worthy, and he liked this true version of himself much better than the pretender he had been playing when he had returned to London at the start of the season. He was so much happier being just him. Just Colin. Well, not just Colin anymore – he was the Colin whose heart and mind was completely and unabashedly consumed by Penelope Featherington, where nothing could possibly go wrong, and the world was their oyster. And he would not have it any other way.

***

It was later in the day, and the Bridgertons had just seen Anthony and Kate’s carriage pull up outside the drive, much to Hyacinth and Gregory’s excitement; it appeared their second honeymoon had now come to its end. Violet led the way downstairs just as Anthony and Kate entered the foyer, their arms around each other, looking just as besotted as ever.

‘Oh. Oh, my dears!’ Violet said, laughing as she held her arms out to embrace Kate, while Colin, Francesca, Hyacinth and Gregory followed.

‘Finally, you arrive!’ Hyacinth said gleefully, running up to Anthony and flinging her arms around him.

‘I could get used to such long journeys if every return was like this,’ Anthony said, a huge beam on his face, as he put Hyacinth down and turned to grin at Colin.

‘Brother,’ Colin greeted, as the two of them clapped each other’s shoulders.

Colin smiled as he watched the happy couple embrace the rest of the family. He felt somewhat nervous; so much had changed since they had last been here. He couldn’t help wondering how Anthony would react to the news of his upcoming nuptials – the last time with Marina Thompson, it hadn’t exactly gone down particularly well.

Benedict then came jogging in from the front door. ‘Brother. Good day,’ he said in pleasant surprise, as he and Anthony hugged.

‘And from where have you returned?’ Anthony asked him, a playful glint in his eyes.

‘Just out for a morning stroll,’ Benedict replied airily, before turning to Colin with raised eyebrows as he straightened his jacket. ‘I read a curious piece of news in Whistledown this morning.’

Colin smirked and nodded. ‘Mm-hmm,’ he said, rather proudly, as everyone gazed at him with enthusiastic smiles, suddenly rather giddy.

‘Oh. What is it?’ Kate asked them all, as Anthony held her close and caressed her stomach gently.

‘Brother, you must tell them,’ Hyacinth said eagerly, while Benedict grinned away like a great buffoon.

Colin hesitated as his mouth opened wordlessly; he could already feel the blush coming to his cheeks.

Hyacinth was too impatient to wait for him, of course. ‘You delay, so I shall,’ she said breathlessly, and Violet laughed as she turned to Kate and Anthony. ‘Colin is engaged to Penelope Featherington!’

Both Kate and Anthony’s faces dropped in shock.

‘Hyacinth may be the most excited of us all,’ Violet said giddily, smiling.

Anthony’s head whipped round to face Colin, a stony expression on his face, while Kate’s mouth popped open at Colin in disbelief.

Benedict threw an arm around Colin. ‘Congratulations,’ he said, squeezing him, a huge smile on his face.

‘Thank you,’ Colin said, grateful, though he did not fail to notice the stern frown on Anthony’s face as he stared at him.

Kate turned to her husband, a little perplexed by his reaction. ‘Oh. Well, what wonderful news,’ she said, her eyes widening at Anthony pointedly, as if trying to remind him of basic decorum.

‘Of course,’ Anthony replied, though there was not a hint of a smile on his face as he turned back to Colin.

Colin tried to ignore this. ‘Thank you. I am in high spirits,’ he said with a smile.

Kate was beaming away, still in utter shock by this news, and she gave Anthony’s hands a tight squeeze before he moved over to his brothers.

‘It seems...’ Anthony said, clearing his throat as he placed a hand on Colin’s arm, ‘...we brothers have much to catch up on, indeed.’

Colin knew that he perhaps ought to be feeling rather wary, given the strict, disapproving look on his elder brother’s face, but all he could do was chuckle. He was still feeling so incredibly giddy after all that had transpired last night.

Anthony shepherded Colin and Benedict away towards the stairs, and as they went a smile fell on his face for the first time since hearing the news.

‘I must say, not much stuns me, Brother, but this truly has,’ Anthony said, chuckling as the three of them made their way up the stairs in the direction of the study. ‘You are a dark horse, Colin.’

Colin laughed loudly, and Anthony and Benedict exchanged a bemused glance.

As soon as they were all tucked away in the study, Anthony began to pour the three of them drinks of brandy from the counter.

‘So, how was your time away in Devon?’ Colin asked, even though he knew neither of his brothers would let him get away with it; they all knew what they were here to discuss.

Anthony smirked at him, then moved towards the games table in the centre of the room, where Colin and Benedict were sat.

‘Devon was very well, but...we have bigger fish to fry,’ Anthony said, giving Colin a pointed look.

‘Hm,’ Benedict agreed with a grin.

Colin smirked and tilted his head rather smugly. He felt so proud of himself. He felt so lovestruck. It was all just so overwhelming, yet so wonderful.

‘First...’ Anthony said, taking his seat and moving it so that he was sat directly opposite from Colin, and Colin sighed exasperatedly. ‘Explain.’

He said it in a jokingly accusatory manner, but Colin knew that Anthony was also being serious. It was rather amusing; the way he and Benedict were sat across from him like that made it feel almost like an interrogation.

Benedict chuckled lightly as he grinned at Colin.

‘No furtive looks necessary,’ Colin said.

Anthony glanced at Benedict then back at Colin, smiling back. ‘Well, come now, you must admit, it is all rather sudden,’ he pointed out.

‘What was sudden was my last betrothal,’ Colin said, ‘so I cannot blame either of you if you are prone to think me foolish.’

Anthony and Benedict exchanged the smallest of glances; neither of them could deny Colin’s point.

Colin leaned forward as he tried to put it into words. It was crucial that his brothers – in particular, Anthony – understood that this was not spontaneous or a spur-of-the-moment decision made out of fleeting lust. He could not really blame them for fearing that might be the case, given his last failed engagement with Marina Thompson, and he wasn’t at all offended by them for thinking such a thing. Neither Anthony or Benedict had known that Colin had been developing romantic feelings for Penelope for a long time – indeed, Colin himself hadn’t even known until merely a few weeks ago – but those feelings were not sudden, and they had certainly not come out of nowhere. His love for Penelope had been there for a long time, and he had known exactly what he had been doing when he had proposed to her; he had been asking his closest friend, whom he had known for half his life, to marry him out of deep love, nothing less.

He wanted to put their minds at ease, and he wanted them so very much to understand, and yet he didn’t see how they could. This powerful force between him and Penelope could not even be compared to what he had thought he’d felt for Marina Thompson two years ago. It was beyond any understanding or description. Nevertheless, he knew he had to try.

‘My feelings for Penelope are not a thunderbolt from the sky. I have known her a very long time, and…perhaps I have…always felt something for her,’ Colin said thoughtfully, leaning back as he took a swig of his drink while his brothers watched him in fascination. ‘My only foolishness this time was not realising it sooner.’

He stared off into the distance slightly as his mind relayed every detail of his and Penelope’s history together. She had always been there, one of his closest friends for so many years, and it was like he was seeing everything through a different lens. It was all so much clearer now, and so right. He had always cared for Penelope more than anyone he knew outside the family. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment he had fallen for her; the foundation had already been laid far before he had realised it, and it had built over time until suddenly he was drowning in the midst of it, in the best possible way. 

Benedict sighed in contentment, as if Colin’s words had warmed his heart. Colin couldn’t tell if Benedict was mocking him or genuinely moved, though from the look on his face, he would guess probably the latter.

Anthony smiled at Benedict, who was grinning, clearly delighted with this turn of events.

‘And have you said these words to her?’ Anthony asked softly, any doubts he’d had apparently no longer an issue.

Colin paused for a moment. No, he hadn’t said those words. He hadn’t said much at all, really. He’d barely had chance. The events of the carriage, and the aftermath…it had all been such a whirlwind. He thought at the time last night that he had expressed his love to Penelope, but in truth it had all happened so quickly that he had forgotten to verbalise it. He wished he could have stopped for a moment to think about how best to declare himself, but he had been too caught up in the moment, too excited, too over-the-moon. It was still barely registering with him that they had already got to this stage, after how dire things had been looking merely yesterday.

‘The final part, the betrothal, it...’ Colin began, and he hesitated, not sure how honest he should be. ‘It did all happen rather…swiftly.’

He knew he didn’t have to elaborate; his playful, proud smirk as he spoke the words was enough for his brothers to get the idea of what had happened.

Anthony’s mouth opened in surprise, while Benedict regarded him proudly, clearly impressed, as he nodded.

‘Ah, it’s swift because you-’

But Benedict interrupted Anthony. ‘Are you going to duel with your own brother, or...?’

Colin chuckled and raised his drink before taking another sip. It was rather touching to know that they already counted Penelope to be family, or at least close enough to feel the need to defend her honour. Colin knew that Benedict was joking, but the sentiment was there all the same.

Anthony looked at Benedict, who had turned up his palm and was pulling a face at him, then turned back to Colin. ‘Well, you are marrying her, and for all the right reasons, it seems. That’s all that matters. But tell her,’ he said firmly.

Colin knew from last season that Anthony had learnt just how much easier life would have been if he had simply spoken openly of his feelings regarding Kate from the very start. It was evident that Anthony did not want any of his siblings making the same mistake he had.

Benedict leaned his head towards Colin and raised his eyebrows, as if wordlessly asking him what he was waiting for.

‘Very well,’ Colin said brightly, nodding.

Anthony was right. He needed to tell Penelope everything he was feeling, right this moment. It had been far too long since he had seen her, after all, and she was merely across the square, no doubt also consumed with thoughts of their surprise engagement.

‘Perhaps I shall go and see Penelope now,’ he said decisively, rising to his feet; he had already been planning on calling on Penelope later anyway, so what was the point in waiting?

‘First,’ Benedict said, raising his glass, and he looked playfully at his two brothers, ‘to your wives.’

Anthony grinned warmly back at Benedict, and the three of them looked at each other, fond smiles on their faces, as they raised their glasses.

‘Congratulations,’ Anthony said, and it touched Colin to see that he truly meant it.

It was strange; Anthony had offered his congratulations to Colin previously the other month, and Colin had felt nothing by it – but that had been about Colin’s many new admirers; it had held little value and brought Colin little joy. But to see his elder brother so proud and so genuinely happy for him about this meant more than Colin could say, and he beamed with pride at him.

‘Thank you,’ Colin said, quaffing his drink as Benedict chuckled to himself, still in giddy disbelief over Colin’s news.

Colin then put down his empty glass, cleared his throat, and left the study without another word, leaving his astounded brothers whispering in awe and bewilderment over this latest development. Colin didn’t mind; he was more than happy to let them talk about his triumph in securing the hand of the most wonderful woman in all of London.

Grinning, he strode off along the corridor, straightening his waistcoat and running a hand through his hair as he went – he wanted to look decent for when he saw Penelope, after all. He was so distracted by the thought of seeing his future bride that he almost walked right into Kate and Gregory at the top of the stairs.

‘Colin!’ Kate said, laughing, and she gripped his arms. ‘I know I have already said congratulations but…truly, I am so very happy about your news.’

‘Thank you, Kate, that means a great deal,’ Colin said warmly.

‘I shall warn you, I have already insisted to your mother that I will organise the betrothal party with her and Mrs. Wilson,’ Kate said, smirking.

‘I am sure you will do a splendid job and make the most wonderful hostess,’ Colin said, grinning. ‘Now, where are you two off to?’

Kate exchanged a glance with Gregory then wiggled her eyebrows at Colin. ‘To see Newton, of course.’

‘Ah, of course,’ Colin said, chuckling. ‘He has missed you.’

‘He has been perfectly happy with me and Hyacinth taking care of him,’ Gregory insisted.

‘Of that, I have no doubt,’ Kate said proudly, ruffling Gregory’s hair. ‘What about you, Colin?’

Colin smiled. ‘I am going to call at Featherington House,’ he said, unable to keep the blush from his cheeks.

‘Ah, I see,’ Kate said in understanding, a small smirk on her face. ‘You must find it difficult, keeping away from your future wife.’

‘Indeed,’ Colin said, and Gregory groaned; Colin laughed at his younger brother and gave Kate a knowing nod. ‘Well, I shall leave you both to it.’

He began to walk away, but Kate called after him.

‘Colin? I am glad that your quarrel from earlier this season was resolved,’ she said. ‘It seems to have all worked out remarkably well.’

Colin laughed. ‘Yes, a lot better than I ever could have anticipated,’ he said, and his eyes softened as he looked at his sister-in-law and remembered her words of advice to him the morning after the Four Seasons Ball. ‘You were right. All I had to do was be honest with her.’

Kate nodded, smiling. ‘That is often all it takes. Enjoy your day, Colin.’

‘And you,’ Colin said, and he touched her hand briefly. ‘It’s good to have you back home.’

Kate’s eyebrows rose up her forehead, as if deeply touched by his words, and she smiled fondly at him.

Grinning, Colin then turned and hurried down the stairs, suddenly more desperate than ever before to see Penelope, and even gave a little excitable skip as he went.

She said yes. She wants to marry me. Me!

He couldn’t help laughing to himself as he bounded across the entrance hall and searched for one of his coats. Would he ever recover from the joy and shock of his and Penelope’s sudden new romance? He did not think so – and Colin was more than content with that.

Chapter Text

Penelope had spent most of the day in a daze. She had only left her bedchamber once, simply to experience the joy of overhearing her thunderstruck mother and sisters reading of her engagement in Lady Whistledown, before retreating back to the safety of her bedchamber – not to wallow in misery, this time, but instead to relish in her triumph…and also to try to determine whether or not she was dreaming, or if this was indeed happening to her.

When she had woken up this morning, she had felt exhausted in every possible way. She had felt nauseous, from her conversation with Eloise last night…and also due to the unavoidable truth that she would soon have to reveal to her blissfully unsuspecting fiancé. But mostly, she had felt giddy.

Her love for Colin had lived within her heart for so many years, longing to be free, longing to be reciprocated, but forever doomed to remain a secret. And yet now…it was out in the open. Now her heart was an open door, and she could shout it from the highest rooftops in Mayfair. And the best thing of all was that somehow, miraculously, bizarrely…Colin now returned her affections.

She didn’t understand how or when it had happened. She had never thought his feelings for her would ever change. But none of that mattered now. All that mattered was that Colin Bridgerton had asked for her hand in marriage…and had seemed practically over the moon that she had said yes, as if he’d had no idea of how much she had pined after him all these years.

As if his surprise proposal wasn’t enough to wrap her head around, Penelope was still also trying to comprehend…other events from last night. She felt like she knew a different part of herself now, in a way she hadn’t before…a part of herself that couldn’t stop her hands from running slowly along her lips and body as she rested on her bed and cast her mind back to the carriage last night. His kiss. His touch. The things he had done to her. The things he had made her feel. She never could have imagined such a thing were possible.

She hadn’t seen her mother at all today, or told her a single thing. Portia had always belittled her, neglected her, and even mocked her for the closeness she shared with Colin. So, Penelope had avoided her, simply so that her joy would not be tainted.

But she knew she could not avoid her mother forever, not with news as huge as this. So, eventually, Penelope headed downstairs and took a deep breath; it was time to face the music.

She walked into the drawing room, where she found her mother stood staring out of the window with her fist on her hip and today’s Whistledown paper clenched in her fingers. Penelope paused, lowered her gaze, then stepped in, fidgeting with her fingers.

‘Mama,’ she said, to announce her presence.

Portia turned sharply, evidently having not heard her daughter’s footsteps as she entered. Her expression was inscrutable, but Penelope knew she must have opinions on today’s news. She lifted her chin, as if to brace herself.

Portia held up the Whistledown paper and began to saunter towards Penelope. ‘This is how I hear of my daughter’s engagement?’ she said, her expression growing more and more sour as she approached her. ‘You hide out in your room all day, and you let me read about it in Whistledown?’

She sounded disgusted when she spoke the last word, and she looked furious. But Penelope refused to flinch or falter. She’d had enough of her mother. Portia had known how upset Penelope had been last night when Lord Debling had left, and yet not once since that moment had she simply asked Penelope how she was. She had not even checked on where Penelope had got to last night while she had been out at Bridgerton House and the printer’s. She didn’t care at all.

Penelope regarded her mother coldly. ‘I did not much feel like announcing the happy news to you,’ she said, and she was glad that there was no hint of fear in her voice.

‘“Happy”?’ Portia said, eyeing Penelope as if she was the stupidest person on the planet. ‘Is that what you think this is?’

This threw Penelope completely. ‘What else could it be? I am to be married,’ she said.

She was confused; surely there was nothing more to be said about it? Surely her mother must be at least a little bit proud?

But apparently not.

‘Lord Debling was a reasonable match,’ Portia said earnestly.

It took Penelope all the effort she had not to roll her eyes. Oh, here we go.

Penelope knew that her mother’s words were true, but really, if Penelope could have accepted that the man had made his choice in breaking off the courtship, then surely her mother was mature enough to do the same? Alas, Portia Featherington would no doubt end up on her deathbed and still be harking on about Lord Debling.

‘A reach, to be sure, but with all his eccentricities, it was a secure match. And you’ve thrown that away to play out, what? A fancy on the neighbour boy?’ Portia said scathingly, a cruel sneer on her face, and she raised her eyes up to the ceiling in despair. ‘Who happens to be the most desired man of the season?’

Penelope could hardly believe it. Even now, when she was engaged to be married, her mother still thought her naïve, trying to achieve something far out of her reach. She clearly couldn’t understand why someone like Colin would notice someone like Penelope, who was plainly incapable of making someone so wonderful desire or fall for her, at least in Portia’s mind. Lord Debling had been a safe option, but Portia evidently thought Colin was a whim that was going to cost her dearly.

Penelope had been used to such veiled insults and belittling, snide comments from her mother for years – she knew that she was considered less than nothing in Portia’s eyes…but it still hurt, even now. Especially now.

‘I do not think it’s unreasonable,’ Penelope said, trying to find some courage, and a smile spread on her face as she spoke the next four words with absolutely certainty: ‘Colin cares for me.’

‘Has he told you that he loves you?’ Portia asked in a patronising tone of voice, raising her heavily pencilled eyebrows, and she tilted her head.

Penelope’s smile faltered. She hadn’t thought about that. She supposed, in all the excitement of last night, she had just assumed it. Or hoped it. She thought back now to Colin’s words in the carriage…how he had said that he could not stop thinking about her, that his feelings for her were like torture…but not once had the word ‘love’ been uttered. But he had proposed marriage – surely it went without saying? Or was she being a fool for thinking such a thing? Was it just desire, and nothing more?

Penelope blinked rapidly. ‘Not in...those exact words…’ she began, avoiding her mother’s scrutinising gaze.

Portia shook her head wearily at her. ‘Oh, Penelope,’ she murmured, turning away and walking around the settee.

Penelope’s heart began to thud uneasily as Portia looked away, her face set, her fists clenching. She didn’t like the look in her mother’s eyes or the tone of her voice. There was exasperation and disappointment there, but pity too. It made her feel like she had been stupid, that she’d let herself get carried away with her old dreams of Colin and blinded herself to the reality of the situation. Portia clearly thought this betrothal was a sham, that the most desired man of the season couldn’t possibly love her. What if she was right?

She realised then that her wounds ran far too deep to ever let go of – and she had her mother’s long-lasting judgement and disdain to thank for that.

Portia walked back up to her, her irritation growing more apparent by the second. ‘Do you not remember how the Bridgertons treated us like dogs when Marina’s scheme was uncovered?’ she said harshly.

Penelope flinched as she tried to keep her expression together. Yes, she remembered that all too well. And it had been her fault entirely. It was nearly always Whistledown’s fault.

‘And now you’ve been out till all hours of the night with no chaperone,’ Portia continued, her voice getting louder, her temper rising higher. ‘And then you traipse in this morning with news of an engagement to the very same Bridgerton boy, using Lord knows what wiles to entrap him!’

Penelope felt herself becoming smaller and smaller with every word her mother snapped. She was so distraught that she didn’t even hear the set of approaching footsteps until it was too late.

‘Excuse me,’ Colin said loudly, sweeping into the drawing room.

Penelope’s heart lurched in horror as she took in the sight of him, dressed in a long, magnificent velvet coat of a very dark teal colour. She turned away at once, unable to bear it.

Mrs. Varley came scurrying in after him, looking alarmed. ‘Err, Mr. Bridgerton is here, ma’am.’

Penelope pinched the bridge of her nose in despair.

No, no, please no, he cannot be here.

She had been looking forward to seeing Colin all day but not like this. Not now. Not when her mother was being at her absolute worst. It made her so ashamed for him to hear those things, let alone embarrassed for him to see how her mother treated her.

‘Mr.…Bridgerton,’ Portia said in an unsteady voice, sounding almost as flustered as Penelope felt. ‘What an unexpected…delight.’

‘I will not be staying long,’ Colin said, his voice surprisingly calm considering just how enraged he felt. ‘But since we are all speaking so freely...-’

‘That was not meant for your ears-’ Portia began wearily, but Colin cut over her sharply.

‘I am still speaking!’ he snapped, and Portia fell silent at once.

Penelope turned around to gaze up at Colin, shocked. She had never heard him speak like that to anyone before. His voice was so loud – angry, even. And his jaw was set furiously as he glared at her mother.

Colin knew that, ideally, he ought to try to begin his relationship with his future mother-in-law as positively as possible. But he could not contemplate such a thing, not at present. He had barely been able to believe his ears when he had emerged up the stairs, beaming giddily in anticipation of seeing his fiancé, only to hear Lady Featherington’s scathing words to her daughter. He had always known that Penelope had had a troubled time here with her family, but never had he realised until now just how bad things really were, how much emotional abuse she had been enduring all this time. This woman stood before him was toxic – a far cry from the kind, loving woman Colin was lucky enough to call his own mother.

Well, he would not stand for it. He would not let his future wife be treated thus any longer.

‘Your daughter did not entrap me,’ Colin said firmly, glaring at Lady Featherington for even daring to suggest such a thing. ‘I proposed to her out of love, nothing less.’

Penelope felt her face almost crumple as she tried to take in his words, and she couldn’t help the soft gasp escaping her lips for all to hear.

‘I proposed to her out of love.’

Love.

Could it be? Did Colin Bridgerton truly love her, after all these years of hoping? Had those words really just left his mouth?

Penelope barely had time to comprehend it when Colin then continued to speak, his eyes closing with frustration as he tried to contain his anger.

‘And were you not so narrowly concerned over your own standing, you might see that Penelope is the most eligible amongst you,’ Colin said, raising his eyebrows at Portia.

Penelope gazed at him in awe, a dazed smile forming on her face. She felt close to tears. She now had someone standing by her, supporting her, defending her. She was no longer alone, and she could barely wrap her head around it. What had she done to deserve such a man?

Portia looked rather taken aback as she stared wide-eyed at Colin. For once, she was utterly lost for words. But Penelope barely cared about nor noticed her mother’s reaction; her eyes were only on Colin.

‘In the future, I advise you not to sully our Bridgerton name,’ Colin went on, indicating Penelope beside him, ‘by suggesting otherwise.’

Penelope felt rather dizzy. ‘Our Bridgerton name’, he’d said. He already considered her as one of the family. She was a Bridgerton in his eyes. Her dreams really were coming true all at once. It was almost impossible to fathom.

With a stormy look on his face, Colin then stepped back from Lady Featherington and held his hand out to Penelope. He had no plan; he’d come here simply wanting to talk to Penelope and declare his love, but now he could see that she was in need of a swift rescue indeed. He needed to get her out of here, away from her mother attacking her in her own home. He needed to show her that she would soon be free of this horrible situation.

Without thinking, Penelope placed her hand in his, and she knew she was home. Colin squeezed her fingers, and with a reassuring look began to lead her away.

Penelope did not need to ask or know where he was taking her – she did not care. All she knew was that he was taking her away from here, and any place with Colin was where she wanted to be. She cast a fleeting glance at her mother, who looked most shaken and ashamed at having been put in her place, and then marched hand-in-hand with Colin out of the drawing room.

Colin was livid as he escorted Penelope along the corridor and down the stairs. He had intended on making a polite apology to Lady Featherington for the abruptness of the betrothal and not securing her blessing before Lady Whistledown had spread the news, but any concerns he’d had on securing her approval and blessing had been immediately obliterated the moment he had overheard her berating Penelope in that way. Besides, the engagement was already set in stone now, whatever Portia Featherington had to say about it.

He paused once he and Penelope had stepped outside onto the front steps, thinking hard. And then he remembered that small silver key that his mother had given him earlier tucked away in his pocket.

A smile fell on his face as he then gazed down at Penelope and squeezed her hand. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked her softly.

Penelope could only nod; she was still too stunned by everything Colin had just said to her mother to formulate any kind of decent response.

Colin nodded, relieved. ‘Will you come somewhere with me?’ he said tentatively. ‘I have something to show you.’

Penelope smiled up at him. ‘Yes,’ she said, eternally grateful.

‘Come, we will take one of my family carriages,’ Colin said, and, linking her arm firmly with his, he led the way across the square.

It did not take long for John the footman to bring a carriage around; giving John the address, Colin then helped Penelope up into the carriage, checked the vicinity to make sure that no one was watching, and then headed in after her.

He gave her a rather embarrassed smile as he sat beside her. ‘I do realise we ought to be chaperoned, but, err…’

‘It’s all right,’ Penelope said softly, a small smile forming on her lips as the carriage set off along the road. ‘It’s not like we haven’t already broken a few rules.’

Colin’s lips twitched. ‘Mmm.’

They sat in silence for a moment as they both thought back to the carriage last night, and suddenly they were both very aware of the sound of each other’s deep breathing. They caught each other’s eye and instantly began to giggle. It was reassuring, to see each other blush with embarrassment and share a knowing smile. After all, that carriage ride was certainly not going to be leaving their minds anytime soon, and to be back in an almost identical environment so soon afterwards was rather, well, triggering when it came to certain emotions.

But Colin wanted to be a gentleman, as much as he was able to. They were out in broad daylight, after all, and judging from her expression Penelope was still slightly shaken by what had happened in her family drawing room with her mother, so now was not the time and place to go back to exploring what they had started last night.  There would be no more carriage shenanigans – at least, not today.

‘Where are you taking me?’ Penelope asked quietly, curious.

‘It’s a surprise,’ Colin said, smiling gently at her.

He felt so pleased – fulfilled, even – that he had been able to defend her and whisk her away from such a hostile situation. He knew it might not be appropriate to be taking Penelope, alone, to their new apartment, but after what he had just walked in on, he wanted to give her a glimpse of her new life; a home of her own, away from her mother. He wanted her to feel safe and excited. And he wanted to prove his worth and show her what he could offer her for their life together.

He then reached out to hold her hand on the carriage seat. Penelope gripped it back, relief flooding through her. He was so warm, so soft, so strong. He was hers. She watched as he intertwined his fingers with hers in awe…those same fingers that had teased her body to the edge of that wonderful precipice last night. She blushed again and looked away from their hands.

‘I proposed to her out of love, nothing less…And were you not so narrowly concerned over your own standing, you might see that Penelope is the most eligible amongst you…’

The words kept ringing through her mind, making her more and more dazed. It felt like something from a dream. The most wonderful dream.

Colin stroked Penelope’s hand tenderly as they rode along in comfortable silence. Her expression was rather stunned as she gazed ahead of them. He hoped that he had not upset her by speaking to her mother in such a way back at Featherington House, but in all honesty he could not foresee any other action he could have taken.

Lady Featherington was not a bad woman, Colin knew that. She had been dealt a rough hand in life, and had done her best to raise and help her daughters in a world ruled by men. But she could certainly be cruel at times, and Colin hated that Penelope had been a victim of that. He had not truly seen for himself until today just how Penelope was treated by her family; he had only picked up on snippets of what life was like for her at Featherington House from her letters and what Eloise had told him. But Penelope had accepted the pain, believing it to be just the way life was, despite it chipping away at her inside. And yet still, Penelope had had a strength within her to bring sunlight to her darkest days – a sunlight Colin had been lucky enough to be enveloped with.

It was a relief for Colin to know that Penelope could now let that part of her life with the Featheringtons go. And she did not have to feel remotely sorry or bad for leaving them behind, for her mother and sisters had never much shown her the remotest sign of love or affection. They would not hurt her anymore, Colin would make sure of that.

Penelope felt equally as confident in that fact. Her mother would never have the power to break her now. She had her own form of sunlight now, a man – a love – who was all hers and was able to simply whisk her away to an escape from her old life filled with cruelty and deceit, to the promise of better days filled with light.

Penelope couldn’t help smiling to herself in a daze as she gazed out of the carriage window.

I’m going to be all right now. I’m with Colin. I’m going to be safe. I’m going to be happy.

And that was more than anything Penelope could have ever wished for.

Chapter Text

When the carriage pulled up and came to a stop, Penelope peered out of the open window curiously and a stunned expression fell on her face.

They had arrived at a set of brick apartment buildings, set slightly back from the bustling thoroughfare, and fronted by a series of fragrant flower beds. Each elegant building rose a stately four stories high, their windows framed with delicate wrought-iron balconies.

She recognised the location at once as Bloomsbury – she knew of this area; it was a haven for wellborn members of the gentry. She remembered Eloise speaking of how Anthony had owned some bachelor lodgings here, before he had begun seeking a wife last season. It was one of the most coveted addresses in all of London during the social season. 

But why were they here?

She turned back to Colin, a dazed look on her face. ‘Colin…?’

Colin merely smiled at her and squeezed her hand. ‘Come with me,’ he said softly.

Together, the two of them disembarked from the carriage and headed into one of the buildings. They climbed up three flights of stairs before coming to a stop outside one of the doors. Colin, who had now removed his splendid coat and draped it over his arm, held out the trusty silver key and gave Penelope a wink before unlocking the door and opening it.

Penelope followed him inside, her curiosity growing with every second. They appeared to be in some sort of fancy apartment. She didn’t understand what was happening. She was still barely coming to terms with what had just happened between Colin and her mother, let alone the events of last night, and now this? What was going on?

‘This way,’ Colin said gently, leading the way down a small hallway.

With a smile, Colin then pushed open the double doors into the main suite of the apartment, which appeared to be some sort of sitting room, or perhaps even a bedroom – Penelope couldn’t be sure.

‘I wanted to show you this before our wedding,’ Colin said, holding the door open for her.

Penelope, in a complete and utter daze, walked in slowly and looked around in awe as Colin closed the door behind them. The room was spacious yet homey, with teal-coloured panelled walls and dust cloths covering most of the furnishings. Cases and boxes of luggage were piled near the door, and in the corner of the room stood a golden striped chaise longue upon which lay a peacock-blue satin blanket. She tried to take it all in as she put one foot in front of the other, but her head was elsewhere entirely; she was still reliving the moment of his and Porta’s confrontation.

‘It’s been in the family a very long time,’ Colin said, placing his coat down on one of the boxes and moving across the room with a pep in his step.

There was an anxious yet buoyant energy about him as he glanced around, trying to reign in his excitement.

He then turned around to Penelope, almost shyly, and spread his arms out wide with pride and almost giddiness. ‘This is to be our home,’ he said, smiling at her adoringly.

His tone of voice was both proud and nervous when he spoke, his words filled with promise and hope. He wanted to show her that his proposal had not been a fluke or something he had done simply because of what had happened in the carriage – he already had plans for their future. He was serious. He was committed. He was over the moon to show her the home in which they would begin their future together. And he was so hopelessly, irrevocably in love with her that he could barely contain himself.

 Penelope could do nothing but breathe deeply in response as she kept her eyes on Colin.

‘This is to be our home.’

She felt rather overwhelmed.

Colin’s smile faded ever so slightly, somewhat perturbed by Penelope’s silence. He had hoped she would be equally as elated as him, but instead she appeared completely unfazed. There was no hint of enthusiasm in her at all. Was she disappointed? Were the arrangements and furnishings not to her liking? He opened his mouth for a moment, trying to find the words to convince her that she had not made the wrong decision in saying yes to his proposal last night. But no words came to mind.

He did not want his insecurities about how inferior he was to overtake him now, but it was very hard to suppress such a feeling; it had always been his tendency to assume the worst – and to assume that it was his fault in some way. He knew deep down that there was no logical reason for him to conclude that this apartment would be a disappointment to Penelope, especially given that his family and lifestyle were far more extravagant to what Penelope was used to, given their wealth and status, not to mention her family’s various financial troubles.

And yet clearly something was amiss. Perhaps she had expected more. Perhaps, with her having been set on accepting Lord Debling’s proposal merely this time yesterday, she had come to look forward to his vast wealth and large estate. After all, Debling would have been able to provide her with a lot more than Colin ever could, he could not deny that. But still, Colin hoped desperately that this could be enough.

He blinked rapidly and averted his gaze, his hopeful confidence slowly evaporating, but he soldiered on. ‘I know it does not look like much now, but…’ Colin said, hurriedly moving to pull off a dust cloth, ‘once we lay out some of our furnishings and decorations...’

His voice shook ever so slightly as he pulled off another dust cloth, this time from the cabinet, in a desperate attempt to impress her. He just wanted to paint a picture for her, to let her know that he was so happy to be with her, that he was going to take care of her in this new home of theirs.

He had been thinking all night about this place and how they would set it up together. He wanted to fill the rooms in this apartment with things from his travels that Penelope had asked him about – all the seashells, ornaments, trinkets, artwork and keepsakes just to make her smile – and drape all the furnishings in the brightest shade of yellow just to make her laugh and groan all at once. He wanted them to design their new home together, to combine their things to create something that was uniquely theirs, to make her life the best and happiest it could possibly be, to share their dreams with one another for what their future would be – a future that he knew, with absolute certainty, would be utterly magical, as long as they were by each other’s side.

But, when Colin turned back around, his panic only continued to grow; Penelope was still not saying anything, and her expression was entirely unreadable. Nothing he was saying appeared to be quelling what he could only assume was her concern. What if this apartment wasn’t good enough for her? Or what if she simply just did not want to be here with him?

Penelope was trying to speak, but it seemed she had lost all possession of her faculties. All she could do was stand there and stare at him.

She was in utter shock. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours, and in that time Colin had prevented her from trapping herself in a loveless marriage, made a grand declaration of romantic feelings, kissed and touched her intimately in ways she could never have imagined, proposed to her, welcomed her into his family, reprimanded her mother in a way no one had ever done before, and was now introducing her to their new home of their own and an idyllic life that he had evidently planned out for the two of them. It was too much, too fantastical. Never in a million years could she have anticipated anything like this, not even in her wildest dreams. She could barely comprehend any of it. How was this man so perfect?

She could tell that Colin was anxious that she was not warming to the apartment – could he really not see? He could have purchased them a cardboard box for them to live in, and Penelope would have been more than happy because Colin was all she could ever need and want. This apartment was just yet another unexpected bonus to add to her long list of joyful surprises, and in truth, she was still too dazed trying to process the remarkably attractive way in which he had told off her mother back at the house to focus on much else.

Colin’s smile disappeared as he continued to take in Penelope’s expression. She looked rather numb as she gazed up at him. Was she even taking in anything he was saying? Or was he frightening her?

Perhaps he was being too eager about this. They had not even been engaged that long, after all – this time yesterday, Penelope had been preparing for a proposal from poor Lord Debling – and it was all happening rather quickly. They had barely had time to calm down from the excitement of the carriage before he’d popped the question.

Looking back now, he wished he had been able to propose a little differently. The timing and the setting hadn’t exactly been perfect, after all, and Penelope had deserved something grander. He should have got down on one knee, he should have read a poem, he should have swept her off her feet. But that wouldn’t have been the real him, he supposed. In that moment last night, when he had stepped down from the carriage, he had been nothing but genuine, caught up in the realisation of just how lucky he was to have fallen in love with a woman as kind, beautiful, funny, brave, loyal and brilliant as his best friend.

Colin felt rather shy as he slowly approached her, wracking his brains as he tried to think of what could be wrong. ‘Are you concerned that we should not be here alone?’ he asked softly.

He knew deep down that his question was rather foolish. Penelope had not once expressed any fear or uncertainty about their being unchaperoned, and just last night they had shared a very long, scandalous bout in the carriage, where they had been very much alone – and it certainly hadn’t seemed to concern her then. But he just couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that she was upset or dissatisfied with him. Something was clearly wrong, after all.

‘There is…not yet any staff,’ he continued, feeling slightly nervous, ‘and I thought…well, since we are to be married-’

‘No,’ Penelope interrupted, putting him out of his misery.

Her voice was warm and reassuring, and filled Colin with instant relief, yet he could not explain why, for it did not answer his insecurities. He frowned at her questioningly; if that was not the problem, then what was troubling her so much?

Penelope licked her lips as she gazed up at him, feeling rather overcome. ‘You do not realise how much that meant to me,’ she said.

Colin’s lips parted in surprise. He looked confused, but then comprehension slowly dawned on his face.

‘What you said to my mother,’ Penelope continued.

Colin was still trying to process what she meant. He hadn’t even given that confrontation a second thought since they had departed in the carriage; he had simply brought Penelope here and charged straight forward into their future. His defence of her to Lady Featherington had been so inherent and immediate that it hadn’t even crossed his mind that Penelope would still be so preoccupied with it.

Penelope’s eyes were filled with adoration. ‘No one has ever stood up for me like that,’ she said, her words simultaneously crushing his heart and filling it with warmth.

Penelope had, of course, experienced the occasional Bridgerton standing up for her in in social situations, mainly against Cressida Cowper, but never before had she been defended in her own home. Her sisters eagerly participated in their mother’s mistreatment of her, and even Mrs. Varley had been complicit in it. It was therefore a very new, and very surreal, experience for the man Penelope had been in love with since childhood to stand up for her for the first time after a lifetime of abuse – the same man who Portia, Prudence and Philippa had all scoffed at the idea of them being friends, let alone anything more. Colin had also not just protected and defended her in that drawing room; he had proudly declared his love for her, in front of her mother – who had always made her believe that she was too hard to love – in a way that left no room for any doubt. It made Penelope feel rather overcome.

Colin felt rather taken aback by what Penelope was saying. It was strange how she clearly did not see that what he had done, speaking to Lady Featherington in such a manner, was not even something that he’d had to think about. It had been completely natural to him, because Penelope was the air that he breathed – and he would not stand for anyone causing her any pain.

‘Oh, I will always stand up for you,’ Colin said gently.

He was confused as to why this was something she should even find surprising or remarkable. Obviously he would always stand up for her. Of course he would.

He walked right up to her, pausing and towering over her diminutive form as he then spoke the words he knew he should have said long ago: ‘Because I love you...Pen.’

Penelope gasped as she gazed up at him with glistening eyes. Those were words she had longed to hear from Colin’s lips for so many years. She could hardly believe that this was not a dream; she even had an urge to pinch herself, just to check that she really was awake.

Her head gave a little shake, as if she was too afraid to take it all in. ‘Are you sure?’ she asked tearfully, her voice barely more than a whisper, her lip quivering.

Even though he looked and sounded so certain, she couldn’t help but doubt. It was just too good to be true. This couldn’t be happening to her, surely, or there must be some catch. This sort of thing just didn’t happen to her. She felt like it all might disappear in the blink of an eye, and she was so afraid of being hurt again.

Contrary to popular belief of most members of the ton, Penelope was rather self-assured in who she was deep inside, and she knew her own worth – but it felt too strange, too surreal, for someone else to finally see and know that too. Penelope had never doubted that Colin cared for her as a person – that alone had always been clear from the moment they had become friends all those years ago. But did he truly love her romantically? And was that love unconditional? Would it stand the test of time?

Colin gazed down at her softly, wondering if he should dismiss her comment with pretty, indignant words. But he did not wish to trivialise or criticise her vulnerability in expressing such a fear; all she needed from him in this moment was to feel safe, stable and secure. So, instead, he settled for mere sincere simplicity and restraint, and gave her the answer he knew she needed by looking her directly in the eye, and giving her a resolute nod and a small smile to reaffirm her.

He had been living in a blur for years, never truly seeing the reality of his world and the people in it. He had travelled from shore to shore, searching desperately for something better than what he had. More recently, he had been playing only to the crowd of rakes and debutantes, knowing it was all a complete lie. And now he had found Penelope – or rather, his heart had awakened to his closest friend. And there was no combination of words on this earth that could possibly explain just what she meant to him.

Colin then stepped closer to her and took both her hands in his own. ‘Everything…I said to your mother is true,’ he said, fixing her with a firm gaze and squeezing her hands.

It was crucial she understood this; it wasn’t just a matter of what he had meant when he had those words to her mother, it was an objective statement. He hadn’t been entrapped in any way. He had proposed to her out of love. She was the most eligible amongst her family. And she was already a Bridgerton in his heart and mind.

It devastated him to think that Penelope did not see what he saw. He had noticed this frequently ever since they had started their lessons – or rather, his feeble excuses at spending any amount of time with her that he could – at the beginning of the season. She never seemed to believe any compliment that was paid to her. She obviously did not think much of herself, in appearance or personality.

Well, Colin was determined to fix that. Immediately.

He glanced to the ornate full-length mirror close to them. ‘And you should see it, as well,’ he said, smiling softly at her.

With his hand still holding hers, he then turned her around to face the mirror. He moved to stand behind her, his other hand trailing along her bare arm and resting on her elbow as they stood there, staring at the reflection of the two of them together.

Colin was in awe; Penelope had never looked more stunning than she did in this very moment, with her curled hair pinned up so elegantly and her exquisite light green dress accentuating the perfect shape and curves of her body. He just wanted so desperately for her to see herself through his eyes, for her to be aware of how beautiful and incredible she was, inside and out.

His eyes shimmered with something Penelope could not quite comprehend as he gazed unabashedly at her reflection in the mirror. It filled her with butterflies just to see him looking at her in such a way, as if she was the most mesmerising thing he had ever seen.

Colin then leaned his face closer as they gazed into the mirror. ‘You...are the cleverest, bravest woman I have ever known,’ he said softly, shaking his head slightly as if he could hardly believe his luck.

Colin hoped that she was listening to him – truly listening. It was no mystery that Penelope was clever – even Eloise would grudgingly admit to Penelope being one of the most intelligent ladies among the ton – but it was crucial that she knew just how brave she was as well. Colin was in awe of how someone with such a cruel family, someone who had either been overlooked or bullied her whole life, could still turn out to be such a kind, loving, supportive, wonderful person. Despite her mistreatment, she hadn’t let her circumstances break her; she had put herself out there, and she had always remained true to herself, regardless of what others said about her. It took a special kind of courage to be like that, after all she had been through.

Penelope breathed deeply as a small smile fell on her lips, letting his words melt through her. She had never realised, until this moment, just how much she had desperately needed to be recognised for those things. Everyone had always overlooked and underestimated her in every way, not even cognisant of her best traits, and while she had always enjoyed pulling the wool over the ton’s eyes and fooling them as Lady Whistledown, there was always a part of her that had wished just someone could truly see her, not as the withering wallflower, but as the powerful, intelligent, courageous woman she knew she was deep down. And now Colin was here, noticing it all, making her feel special, and it was the most wonderful thing in the world.

Colin smiled back at her reflection. ‘You make me feel seen in ways I have never felt seen before,’ he continued gently, his warm breath filling her with butterflies.

Penelope’s soaring heart was beginning to race. She knew that these were not just words merely to raise her confidence. Colin truly saw her this way. He had praised her in so many similar ways before – he had even said almost the exact same words when he had apologised to her in her garden the day after the Four Seasons Ball – but there was something different about it this time. It felt like all those years of true devotion had been recognised and returned. He truly knew her, perhaps even better than she knew herself. It touched her soul deeply, just to hear him say these things and let herself believe every word he uttered.

Colin’s pupils had dilated to a remarkable size as he gazed at their reflection; he was utterly bewitched. She saw through all the barriers he put up and truly knew him.  She drove him wild with both affection and desire. She was magical. She was absolute perfection. And she deserved to see that she was worth such devotion, such care, such worship.

He swallowed before continuing. ‘And then there is...the way your hair cascades down your shoulder.’

As he spoke, he drew a hairpin from her auburn curls; her hair unravelled before him, each silken curl falling on her ivory shoulder as the hairpin dropped to the floor with a light thud. It reminded him of how her hair had been on the night of their first kiss…the night where his life had changed for the better.

Something shifted the moment that hairpin fell to the floor. Penelope couldn’t explain it, but there was a palpable change in the air between them, a heightened tension, and she was quite certain that his heartrate had increased just as much as hers as they continued to gaze into each other’s eyes in the reflection of the mirror.

There had been a niggling doubt in the back of Penelope’s mind that perhaps their embrace in the carriage last night, as frantic and passionate and glorious as it was, had simply been a result of the two of them getting caught up in the moment…that it had been an anomaly. The idea of Colin truly lusting after her was so bizarre and unrealistic, after all.

But not anymore.

Now they were in the light of day, with nothing clouding their judgement as they gazed into the mirror and saw these new layers of their relationship reflected back at them for the first time. They were recognising the two different versions of themselves merging together – friends…and lovers. It couldn’t be clearer now where they were headed.

‘The way your eyes shine when you look at me, like two blue pools…’ Colin said softly. ‘The firmness of your lips parted just so…’

Colin did not want to just shower Penelope with generalised compliments about her appearance. He wanted to take the time to painstakingly detail every single specific element of her that he found so overwhelmingly attractive. So, with delicate fingers, he traced the curve of her lower lip as he spoke. Penelope’s lips parted at his touch, just as he had hoped; he had watched them part in the carriage last night when he had pleasured her, and it filled him with desire to watch her react in such a way.

‘The softness of your skin...’ he continued, filled with awe.

His fingers continued to trail along her chin and swept slowly down her neck, skin against skin, igniting a tingling sensation that lingered in the wake of his gentle touch. Overwhelmed, Penelope closed her eyes and leaned slightly back against him as his hand brushed against her shoulder.

Penelope’s breathing grew heavier as Colin’s hand then slowly moved down, brushing her puffed sheer sleeve then caressing her chest.

‘And then there are...other parts I have been...that I’ve been dreaming about,’ Colin murmured, and Penelope watched with hungry eyes and loud breaths as his hand slowly pressed against the bodice of her gown.

It was the first time she had looked at her reflection and felt beautiful or desirable, and she realised then that she didn’t want him to just gently cup her. She wanted him to grab her, to squeeze her, just like he had done in the carriage. She wanted his hands all over her body.

Penelope reached up and placed her hand over his, moving it more firmly over her breast, and their fingers interlocked as he squeezed, sending a shiver running down her spine. Penelope gasped, overcome, as the sensations of their embrace in the carriage last night came rushing vividly back to her. She wanted to feel those sensations again.

Unable to resist any longer, Penelope then took matters into her own hands; she spun around, breathing heavily, stretched up on her tiptoes and kissed him hungrily.

Colin bent his knees slightly to meet her in the middle as he kissed her back. Their lips parted briefly; Penelope opened her eyes, wanting to see what her kiss did to him, and it sent a thrill rushing through her to see that he had kept his eyes closed, as if wanting to savour the moment. The sunlight was peeking in from the background, providing a halo around his silhouette; it made her dreamlike state only more magical.

Colin was trying so desperately to relish it yet also restrain himself and be a gentleman, but it was very hard when Penelope was practically throwing herself at him. She leaned up again and brought her lips back to his eagerly, soft moans escaping her mouth as she kissed him desperately. 

Colin could barely cope with her enthusiasm; he knew he shouldn’t let his self-control break, and his desires get over his head…but he was about to give in, he knew it.

He gripped her hands tightly as he broke apart from her. ‘You must tell me to stop if you do not wish for this,’ he said, quietly yet urgently; he could not allow himself to indulge until she confirmed she wanted to take this further.

Penelope gazed at him earnestly, still stretched up on her tiptoes, and she shook her head. ‘I do not wish for you to stop,’ she said breathlessly.

She wanted all of him. She wanted everything – whatever everything entailed.

Her words were all Colin needed; his gaze turned immediately from that of concern to that of lust, and he brought their lips back together, this time being more active, his kisses turning more fervent.

Penelope kissed him back passionately, panting and moaning into his mouth as their lips parted and met again, and again. She could kiss him all day, if he would let her. There was nothing she wanted more.

The sweet taste of Penelope’s lips overwhelmed Colin. He had dreamed of her arms around his, of her whispering his name in his ear, of her holding him close, of the way she would look in the glow of evening, of their naked bodies joined as one, of the joy they could bring to one another. But he could not let that dream become reality just yet. It was only right they wait for their wedding night…even though they had already crossed that line in the carriage last night…even though they both yearned to know each other better…even though they were already practically married in his eyes, from the second their lips had touched in that carriage, and the wedding would be just a formality…

He knew that the only thing holding them back from giving in to their desires was the rules of society. And since when had the two of them ever taken notice of those rules?

So, a hungry look in his eyes, Colin then spun Penelope back towards the mirror with somewhat aggressive speed and vigour. He felt desperate, almost possessed; he wanted her to look at herself and love her body the way he did.

Penelope looked both excited and nervous as Colin stood behind her and immediately began unfastening the delicate fabric of her meticulously-constructed gown with swift, nimble fingers. He seemed assured, with a clear objective in mind; Penelope, on the other hand, was overwhelmed and apprehensive, but she trusted Colin, and was more than willing to let him take the lead. She leaned down ever so slightly to help him adjust the dress, and it slipped off easily, falling from her shoulders and collapsing into a pool around her feet.

Penelope shivered as she felt the cool air on her skin, and she watched with wide eyes and parted lips as Colin then slowly began to untie the laces of her pale corset. Penelope held the corset in place, her anticipation building as Colin continued to carefully loosen the silk ribbons, his eyes frequently glancing back at hers in the mirror to check that she was comfortable with him proceeding. She watched it unfold before her in the mirror, hardly daring to believe that Colin was truly undressing her, enjoying his gentle dominance.

Colin was desperate to tear the corset off her, but he contained himself and savoured each pull of the ribbon, loosening the garment to slowly reveal what he had been dreaming of for weeks.

Then, at last, Penelope allowed her slip to fall away, leaving her naked body stood exposed before him, her heart pounding in her chest.

With an open mouth and awestruck eyes, Colin took in the breathtaking sight in the reflection of the full-length mirror: her perfectly round, delectable curves…her ample breasts…her smooth legs…the way her hair fell so perfectly in those gentle, luscious curls…her mesmerising eyes, filled with desire and anticipation…her full parted lips, moist from their kisses…her angelic face, flushed and dazed by what was happening. He had never seen anyone or anything more beautiful in his life.

Penelope then lifted her hands to cover her breasts and rosy nipples, suddenly feeling rather shy and embarrassed even though she knew she had no reason to be – this was Colin, after all. She had relished the feeling of him undressing her, and for a moment she had felt as beautiful as Colin had described, but right now she was suddenly fearful that seeing her body this way – her body that her sisters had always remarked was larger than it ought to be – would prevent Colin from wanting to take things any further.

Nothing could have been further from the truth, of course.

Seeing Penelope naked like that in front of him had made Colin’s hunger for her multiply a thousandfold. He continued to stand behind her, almost protectively, his presence a comforting yet electrifying warmth against her bare back. He gently rested his hands on either side of her bare waist, reassuring her, and Penelope felt herself relax at his touch as her eyes remained fixed on him; she was interested in watching him watch her.

She slowly squeezed her breasts with her hands, still wanting to keep them shielded – for now, at least – while Colin lowered his head towards hers, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of her, and Penelope leaned her head back into him, shivers of anticipation running down her spine. She enjoyed the feel of him stood behind her with his hands on her waist. Even more than that, she greatly enjoyed the way he was looking at her; indeed, the intensity of his gaze made her heart flutter.

A moment of silence fell between them – erotic, anticipatory, and sensual – as they both moved to be closer to each other. The air practically crackled as they continued to gaze at each other’s reflection, waiting with bated breath to see what would happen next.

Penelope had always flinched on the rare occasions she had caught sight of her naked reflection. The mirror was a cruel, unforgiving place, after all.

Well, that had been her experience…until today.

But right now, even though she knew her body was far from perfect – at least in her eyes – Colin certainly didn’t seem to think so. He was taking in every part of her, all the flaws she could not erase, and yet he was gazing at her as if her body was a precious temple, as if it was the most desirable thing his eyes had ever clapped eyes upon. And in that moment Penelope realised that she did not need her gown or her corset at all. On the contrary, she was more than willing to welcome him and his gaze to her naked body.

She wanted Colin to make every inch of her feel sacred, and that was just what he was doing simply by taking in the sight of her with those tender yet smouldering eyes of his.

Colin was in awe. Penelope’s eyes were glazed over and heavy-lidded as she rested her head back against his shoulder. Her expression was both vulnerable yet confident, as if she was slowly realising how gloriously stunning she was as they both looked at her body in the reflection of the mirror. He then leaned even closer to her as she tilted her face up towards his, her forehead brushing against his chin.

He flickered his eyes back up to hers, and his breath was hot against her ear as he murmured, ‘Lie down.’

His voice was somehow soft and commanding all at once, filled with a promise that sent an intense shiver rushing through her.

Penelope’s eyes widened, with both fear and excitement, as his words hung in the air for a moment. She took in his open mouth and hungry eyes, her heart thudding. There was something demanding, almost possessive, about him giving her such an order…and yet there was a gentleness there as well, a guiding hand that she was very amenable to. Once again, they were back to being the tutor and the student…only this was about to be a very different kind of lesson to what Colin had taught her before, and Penelope was more than willing to place herself in his hands.

Colin felt slightly smug as he watched her reaction. He knew just how badly Penelope wanted him; he could see it simply through staring into her eyes in the mirror. It gave him immense satisfaction to have this effect on her.

Her hands still covering her breasts, Penelope then slowly turned around, tearing her gaze from the mirror. Colin straightened up behind her, his posture tall and commanding, as he watched her with an expression that was both possessive and admiring; it filled her with hunger, just like what she had experienced in the carriage last night.

With a small smile on his face, Colin kept his hands on her lower back, his gaze lingering as he guided her away from the mirror in the direction of the chaise longue across the room.

His hold on her tightened slightly just as they reached the chaise, and she paused, turning to look at him.

‘Are you sure?’ he murmured, his hands still on her bare waist; he did not want to do this unless she absolutely wanted it.

A small smile appeared on Penelope’s face, and she nodded. ‘Yes,’ she whispered, and though he could see in her eyes that she was nervous, he also knew that she meant it…that she had never been surer of anything.

It was forbidden and scandalous, what they were doing. Even Penelope knew that such intimate behaviour should not occur until after they were wed. But she did not remotely care about that, and neither did Colin, not right now. The two of them had always been rule-breakers when it came to one another, and they were so utterly in love that everything else had simply washed away from their thoughts in this moment. The world did not matter, only them.

Colin’s dark eyes followed her every movement as Penelope then reclined against the soft fabric of the chaise longue, her hands still covering her breasts, and she sat up slightly to watch him as he stood before her.

Colin gazed at her with parted lips as he slowly began to disrobe, his movements deliberate and slow, allowing her to take in every detail. He was comfortable undressing before her, but not arrogant; he was happy to present himself as he was, honestly, without any expectation. They kept their eyes fixed on one another as he removed his striped waistcoat, dropped it to the floor, licked his lips, and then proceeded to unbutton his ruffled black shirt.

A soft chuckle of disbelief escaped Penelope’s mouth as she watched him curiously. Colin liked that she wasn’t trying to hide a single element of her sweet reactions; an adorable, giddy smile was spread over her face, as if she were overcome by excitement, before she suddenly remembered what was happening, and the nerves came to the forefront again as she gulped and blushed.

Colin then pulled off his shirt, revealing the contours of his rippling midsection and broad chest, sprinkled with hair. His defined muscles and lustrous skin looked as if his body had been carved by an artisan’s hand.

Penelope’s eyes widened, her pupils dilating so much that her eyes looked almost entirely black, and her breathing grew shallow. Her anticipation had grown to entirely new levels; she couldn’t believe what she was experiencing, that she was about to see a naked man for the first time.

Her gaze lowered as Colin then began to unfasten the wide leather belt around his trousers. He didn’t take his eyes off her once as he continued to undress, and the way he flicked the belt as he unbuckled it made Pennelope’s heart skip a beat. She watched with an open mouth and heavy-lidded eyes as Colin then stepped out of his trousers, picked them up and dropped them on the floor in front of him.

Penelope took in the sight of him in all his splendour, and exhaled before gulping loudly and clearing her throat. She had seen an illustration of the naked male form in a book of biology once, purely by accident, so she should have known what to expect, but the reality was rather…alarming. She felt rather shy as she dipped her chin and forced her gaze back up to his face, blinking rapidly.

Colin tilted his head at her slightly, wondering what she was thinking – was she afraid? Doubtful? Impressed? He knew that she was innocent and naïve in matters of intimacy – except from what she had experienced in the carriage last night, of course – and he could sense her trepidation. Nothing was more important to him than making sure this moment, their first time, would be special for her, that he would take care of her and ease her into the experience.

The room seemed to hold its breath, and Colin took a moment to drink in the sight of Penelope sat there waiting for him, his eyes running over her entire body. She truly looked like a work of art – an oil painting of Venus the goddess herself.

In the carriage last night, he had been so overcome with need to touch her, to consume her, and he had lost control. He was still overcome with that need now, but he did not want to overwhelm her or rush this moment. This was their first time, after all. They would always remember it. And Colin wanted this to be one of Penelope’s best memories to look back on.

Colin then slowly began to move toward her, his lean figure and muscled chest lit by the sunlight pouring in through the sheer-curtained window.

Penelope lay back against the chaise longue timidly, with the blue satin blanket draped over her hips. The sight of Colin’s naked form approaching her gave her a thrill but also made her rather anxious; she had no idea what to expect. And yet, as he came even closer to her, she felt her mind free itself of any doubt, for she knew that nothing had ever felt more right. This very day, this very moment, was when the two of them would become one at last. And suddenly it was the only thing that made sense in this world.

Colin pulled back the blanket and knelt over her on the chaise longue, their bare skin touching. Penelope couldn’t take her eyes off him as he moved closer to her and gazed at her face with those tender eyes of his. Despite both of them being physically exposed to one another for the first time, they kept their gaze on each other’s eyes – after all, this was what anchored them to each other best; they could fully see each other and know everything they could possibly need to just by looking into each other’s eyes. It was a spiritual connection, almost, one that transcended their bodies, and when they looked at each other their gaze was not just filled with desire and lust, but respect and love as well.

Colin was in awe as he took in the sight before him. ‘You are so beautiful,’ he said softly, sounding quite dazed.

Penelope had never expected to hear anyone say those words to her, let alone for her to believe them, but there was something so sincere about the way Colin spoke that she had no choice but to come to the conclusion it must be true. And it was that, and his bewitched expression, that made her fear completely disappear.

She wanted to be closer to him, to melt into him. So, Penelope reached a hand up to his cheek and rose to kiss him with soft, open lips. Colin kissed her back gently, moving the satin blanket back around to cover her so that she was warm and comfortable as their lips melded together. There was a musicality, a rhythm, in the way they moved together during their short string of kisses; it was beautiful to experience.

They both gasped slightly as Penelope then pulled back, both of them utterly mesmerised.

She fixed him with an almost hungry gaze as she rested her hand on his shoulder. ‘Tell me what to do,’ she said.

She knew it might be potentially shocking for her to vocalise such a thing, but she didn’t really mind, for Colin knew her; he knew she liked to exert autonomy over every aspect of herself and her life where she could, and he knew how curious she was about every part of life and human nature – no matter how impolite or improper.

But Colin, as polite and gentlemanly as ever, shook his head gently at her. ‘I will do everything,’ he said reassuringly.

He wanted to put her at ease, to take care of her, to make sure she did not feel pressured or overwhelmed in any way. But then Penelope said something that caught him completely off guard.

‘No,’ she said firmly, and she took a breath. ‘Tell me.’

She did not want her inexperience and lack of knowledge to hinder this for them in any way; she wanted to be a valuable partner. Colin had given her so much pleasure in the carriage last night – she wanted to return the favour, to make him feel the way he had made her feel, to please him just as he deserved. Colin had always had a self-sacrificing nature, and she knew that he would want to focus entirely on her, but she wanted him to think about himself in this moment. This wasn’t just about her, after all.

Taken aback, Colin considered her for a moment, trying not to appear as stunned as he felt. He fought back a bashful hint of a sly, subtle smirk, almost amused by her curiosity and insistence; Penelope always found ways to surprise him, which he supposed was one of the many things he loved about her. Indeed, he was delighted that she was comfortable enough with him to express herself in such a candid, open manner. Colin then swallowed, almost timidly, and looked away for just a moment while he collected himself.

He tucked his chin, and his eyelids fluttered, suddenly making him look more vulnerable than ever. ‘You could...’ he began, his chest heaving, and he hesitated and looked away before continuing: ‘…touch me.’

His voice was shy and almost husky when he spoke, for he realised as he said the words that it was a raw, helpless need. He yearned for her touch more than anything, and yet he was still rather shaken; this should all be about her, after all, not him. But he could see in Penelope’s eyes that she did not want that to be the case. She wanted this experience to be for the both of them. And the thought of her touching his skin made him almost breathless.

Penelope’s eyes then ran up and down his face, her expression filled with desire; the sight made Colin’s heart almost leap out of its chest. ‘Where?’ she asked.

Colin was dazed as he replied with a simple: ‘Anywhere.’

He spoke his answer with a soft whisper and nodded his head. He was more than willing to honour her curiosity and guide her in this, and when he said ‘anywhere’, he meant it; he had no expectations of her. He simply wanted to connect with her, and for her to feel connected to him.

Penelope’s bosom swelled as she gazed up at him, and she reached her other hand tentatively up to stroke his ear and run her fingers through his thick brown hair.

Colin tilted his head, allowing her hand more room to caress his face and hair. He could feel his heart pounding as he relished in her touch.

Is this what heaven feels like? he wondered.

Penelope then slid her hand along his powerful shoulder, and sat up slightly so that she could be closer, growing more confident in exploring him. She still couldn’t believe that she was able to do this, to touch the bare skin of the man she had loved for all these years. It was like something from a dream.

Colin leaned closer to her, their noses brushing against each other’s as she trailed her hand slowly down his chest, and tantalisingly along his taut flank, lower and lower…Colin’s mouth began to open wider as he watched her, her eyes heavy-lidded as she immersed herself in the moment, her hand disappearing beneath the blanket, her fingers trailing along his skin…and then she slid her hand down between his groin and hers.

Colin shivered in alarm as the sensation of her fingers took over.

‘Not there,’ Colin said hastily.

 Penelope immediately flinched and withdrew her hand, her startled blue eyes flashing up at him as she leaned away, looking a little confused.

Colin gasped softly, an amused smile on his face; her enthusiasm and lack of knowledge in this area was endearing. Though he had been enjoying her touch very much, he knew that she had to avoid that particular area if they wanted to prolong this experience – which, of course, was an intricacy she did not yet understand.

‘Not yet,’ Colin added; he wanted to reassure her that she hadn’t done anything wrong, for he could see her retreating into her prior timidity.

He was surprised; he hadn’t expected Penelope to jump into things so quickly, when everything was so new to her. Once again, he had underestimated her; although, after her enthusiastic response in the carriage last night, he realised now that he should have known better.

As much as Colin wanted her to touch him there…he did not want this to be over with too quickly. He wanted them both to enjoy themselves, to make the moment last as long as possible. He wanted to love her in the best possible way and thrill her in the way she deserved. He wanted to make her feel pleasure beyond her imagination.

So that was exactly what he was going to do.

‘May I?’ he asked gently.

Penelope almost felt like laughing; she was lying there naked underneath him, fluttering her eyelashes and practically panting with anticipation in her desperation for his touch, and yet here he was still full of manners of deference. Why was he so perfect?

She nodded. If he was going to touch her in a way that was anything remotely similar to what he had done to her last night in the carriage, then she gladly welcomed it – although a part of her was also not so sure if she was mentally or physically prepared to experience something so powerful again.

Colin leaned his face close to hers, his gaze intense, his mouth open as he took in her breathless expression, and slowly slid his hand down her waist. Penelope was overwhelmed and tightened her eyes, but Colin’s eyes never left her face; he was completely consumed by the way she was reacting to him. This moment alone was more pleasurable for him than all his meaningless exploits abroad and trips to the brothels combined.

His touch was gentle and reverent yet possessive as he traced her rounded hip, and he slowly pulled the blanket down to expose her soft, pearl-white skin. Colin closed his eyes as his slightly-shaking hand moved lower, lost in awe, savouring the moment; he still couldn’t believe that he was able to touch Penelope in ways he had only dreamed about. He wanted to grip her thigh so badly, but he held back; he wanted to be as gentle as possible.

Penelope watched him, her breathing growing heavier. She couldn’t believe what was happening to her. She had been raised and treated to feel unworthy of attraction, that she should only settle for the first man who would have her – if such a man even existed – because love was a foolish fantasy for someone like her. And yet here Colin was, physically aching for her, visibly revering her body, as if no one could ever desire or yearn for anything more. It was the most spellbinding feeling.

Colin caressed her upper thigh before smoothing his palm inward, between her parted legs, and he kept his eyes on Penelope to watch her reaction, wanting to make the most of every single second. Penelope gazed up into his eyes with parted lips, dazed by how attentive he was being, her hand still resting on his cheek…

And then a soft gasp escaped her mouth as his fingers made contact.

She shuddered at his touch, her head fell back slightly, and her eyelids grew heavy with pleasure as she began to breathe heavily and moan in rhythm to his movements. Colin’s eyes never left her face; he watched her intently, wanting to capture every expression and be right there with her as he mirrored and mimicked her responses to his touch, his body moving in tandem with hers. Penelope then pulled his face to hers, wanting him closer, and Colin moaned slightly as their lips met again and they kissed deeply and unhurriedly, lost in the rhythm of their desire.

When they broke apart for breath, Penelope’s head fell back onto the chaise longue as Colin’s skilful fingers continued their magical movements and she caressed his chest with her hand, feeling suddenly bolder and more exploratory with her touch. His fingers were like velvet as he touched her slowly, gently…taking his sweet time, letting the feeling within her grow…It felt like he was not just touching the spot between her legs that craved him, but her very soul as well.

Penelope slowly slid her hand down his right arm, scraping his muscles with her nails, while Colin’s eyes ran indulgently over her lushed, pliant features as she gave over to him completely. He wanted to take his time, to savour every sigh and gasp that escaped her lips, to follow her every head movement, to focus on only her pleasure. There was no rush, no urgency. This was the only thing that mattered.

Penelope felt like she was experiencing a completely new life. A part of her had been scared to let herself go completely when she had first laid down on the chaise longue, but now the fear had subsided completely. She did not have to be self-conscious about her body or what she was doing. She was no longer covering herself or worried about her appearance. She was safe with him, no matter what, and she could slowly start to see herself from Colin’s point of view, for all her assets and all her faults. She could see it all, and, just like him, she could feel herself starting to love it all. Penelope never could have imagined that she would feel such a way, so comfortable in her own skin when laid so bare and so vulnerable before another person. Nor had she ever dreamed that Colin Bridgerton would one day be lying on top of her, skin to skin, wanting her, his eyes drinking in every inch of her body, his lips and caress making her believe that he was truly hers.

‘Oh, yes. Oh, yes,’ Penelope whispered involuntarily, her eyes closed as her head fell further back and she lost herself in the moment.

She could quite comfortably let him do this to her for hours. The feeling was exquisite.

Colin watched her with parted lips, swaying his head back and forth as he took in the sight of her luscious breasts and her face filled with desire, marvelling at the beauty before him.

Penelope was overcome; with a loud pant, she jerkily grabbed for his arm, contorted her body to find the best angle and brought their lips back together again. She moaned as they kissed – but then, to her alarm and disappointment, she felt Colin withdraw his hand from between her legs.

She didn’t understand; she had been on the pinnacle of something there, she could feel it. Why had he removed his hand?

Penelope slid down the chaise longue slightly, as if chasing the sensation, and her brow creased as she gazed up at him indignantly. ‘Why did you stop?’ she asked breathlessly, genuinely bereft to have been taken out of the moment.

The desperate tone in Penelope’s voice made Colin feel warm inside as he gazed at her. ‘Are you ready?’ he said softly. 

Penelope was confused; ready for what? And then she realised.

‘Is there more?’ she asked.

Colin smiled softly at her and nodded. It was absurd, really, how little unmarried ladies were told about such matters. All of them were raised to be clueless in such a monumental part of life, and Colin couldn’t understand why. But at least he could show Penelope now. It hadn’t been so long ago when he himself had been introduced to this new experience; he was excited for her.

Penelope’s face broke out into a giddy smile, and they both chuckled softly.

She wasn’t sure if ‘more’ entailed even more pleasure for her, but she certainly hoped so – and, from the look in Colin’s eyes, she was fairly certain it would.

‘This may hurt,’ Colin then said, and Penelope’s smile faded slightly as the nerves crept back in. ‘I cannot help it, I promise. But...it should only be this first time.’

He did not wish to scare her, but he knew that she should be prepared; it was a courtesy she was owed before taking this next step. He did not want this to be unpleasant for her, not even for a millisecond, and he would do anything to avoid it if he could – her experience was his highest priority, after all.

Penelope considered him for a moment, then gently bobbed her head. She was scared of there being potential pain, and of not knowing what was going to happen next – but this was Colin. She was safe with him. She was in good and loving hands. And she trusted him more than anyone.

Colin reached his arm down between them, and braced one arm on the chaise longue as he leaned his body closer to hers. Penelope watched and realised, somewhat alarmed, what he was about to do.

Colin then shifted his hips forward, and entered her with a loud, satisfied moan.

Penelope inhaled sharply and winced as the sharp, brief pain blinded her for a second. Then she opened her eyes, and felt the pain soon melt away as she got accustomed to the strange sensation of him being inside her. It was daunting, and somewhat awkward, but even in the face of her momentary discomfort she still wanted this moment – she still desired him more than anything.

Colin, battling his intense physical euphoria with his immediate concern for Penelope, gave her a gently questioning look and paused. Despite his body’s eagerness, he wanted to be patient, to allow her time to adjust.

Penelope nodded at him reassuringly, her hands gripping the lean muscles of his back as she guided Colin closer.

Colin moved further in, and Penelope felt a sweet spasm go through her, as if she was rising into the air. An incredulous smile blossomed on her face as she gazed up at him in disbelief and amazement.

Her shock turned into soft laughter, and Colin beamed at her joyous expression. There was such wonder in her eyes. It was the most delightful thing he had ever seen. They chuckled slightly, glad that they could share in this moment together.

Penelope then moaned softly as Colin slowly, gently began to move, and he watched her carefully, pausing ever so slightly to check how she was.

‘All right?’ he whispered, raising his eyebrows at her.

‘It’s fine,’ she whispered back reassuringly, nodding.

It was more than fine. It was a thrilling feeling, to know that their bodies had joined as one. She couldn’t think of the words to describe the utterly astounding and completely overwhelming feeling of him inside of her.

Colin panted softly as held her close, his movements slow and deliberate, mindful of her every response; he wanted to ensure that she was comfortable. It was only after he had ensured that she had adjusted to his size and had relaxed, that he lowered his inhibitions and allowed himself to revel in the feeling.

When he realised that her gasps were of desire and not pain, Colin finally let himself go; sighing in relief, he dropped onto his elbow and they both collapsed onto the chaise longue as he kissed Penelope deeply, leaving not a millimetre of space between their faces and bodies; he wanted to consume her. Penelope moaned and moved her hands to his back as her lips moved fervently against his, her legs instinctively spreading wider to take more of him. Colin placed his hand on the back of her head protectively as their bodies moved together, settling into one another.

Their lips broke apart for breath, and Colin pulled away ever so slightly to watch the way their bodies moved, an aching expression on his face. He reached down to lift her leg up slightly, and then he felt Penelope’s hand grab his back with a resounding slap and rather spiritedly pull him closer, bringing his focus back to her.

He was alarmed by her sudden fierce touch dragging him back to her, and he turned back to face her. He felt his racing heart soar at the sight that met him; Penelope’s face had transformed, and she was fixing him with an intense, lustful, narrow-eyed stare of determination as she pressed him hard against her.

Penelope was having too much of a wonderful time and she did not want Colin to take his eyes off her, not for one single moment. She wanted to be connected to him in every way possible. She began to thrust her hips upwards by instinct, pulling him in even deeper as she wrapped her legs tightly around him, her hungry eyes telling him that she wanted – no, needed – more.

Colin gasped in shock; the way she was looking up at him through her lashes was coquettish, raw, even animalistic, and it felt like she had just discovered in that very moment how to inhabit her womanhood and utilise it. It was exhilarating.

He then let go of any train of thought and simply just sank into her, driving his hips forward faster to match her pace, their bodies moving as one, their passion building with each thrust and caress. Penelope’s fingers groped his bare posterior, pulling his hips into her and driving her body upwards to meet his thrusts as they both grunted and gasped with every movement.

Colin crowded over her, as if he was taunting her, and Penelope moved closer so that that there was no space between them and they were chest to chest, rubbing her breasts against his torso as they both breathed into each other’s mouths. Penelope snapped her teeth involuntarily as she opened her mouth desperately to kiss him, but he simply teased her instead, his lips so close but not close enough. It was almost like they were engaged in a dance, a language only the two of them knew, as they edged and tempted each other, playing a game of cat and mouse. Colin’s eyes raked over Penelope’s body with unabashed admiration; his mouth dropped open as he took in every inch of her features and watched her closely as she continued to pant and moan, wanting to bear witness to everything she was experiencing.

Colin may have had previous intimate encounters, but he had never experienced this before, and he was completely losing himself. Indeed, he was so wrapped up in trying to make sure that Penelope was enjoying herself that she had to pull his attention back to their eye contact. She gently guided her arms up to caress his face and slowly guided him to turn back to look at her, her mesmerising gaze filled with reverence and wonder as she silently told him: be here with me.

She could recall how he had written in his journal of feeling distance during intimacy, and she did not want him to feel that way ever again. She wanted this moment to be cemented in both their minds forever. She wanted him to know that she was here with him, that she wanted all of him, that the feel of their bodies merging together as one like this was the best thing that ever could have happened to her.

Colin felt something shift in him as Penelope drew his eyes back to hers. She was so stunningly beautiful in that moment as she took control and kept him focused on her, and he knew as he looked deeply into her eyes and held her gaze that he would never be able to look away from her ever again.

Penelope then planted her hands firmly on his shoulders and neck, extending her arms completely to guide him as they moved together. She was overjoyed that she could touch him all over now without any hesitation; she had no reservations about showing Colin this new side of her that he had awakened. She trusted him completely, and she relished the sight of him; the protruding veins across his face and body, his mouth agape, his eyebrows furrowed, the way he moved and panted…it was glorious.

Colin gazed in awe at her arms and the way she was gripping his neck, her fingers flexing and her nails scratching desperately into him as her hands moved down his shoulders, burrowing into him. He turned back to meet her eyes and smiled dazedly; he couldn’t believe that this was real, that it felt this good. He had been with women before, but he had never made love before until now. It was like an out-of-body experience, and he felt like he was waking up inside a dream, for how else could he explain the wonder of this moment? She was an angel, and she was his, clutching him desperately to her, her eyes shining brighter than the stars themselves as she gazed into the very depths of his soul, telling him wordlessly that she wanted even more of him.

Their breathing became more rapid as the waves of pleasure crashed over them, their muscles clenching uncontrollably, their hearts pounding fiercely.

Colin could feel himself coming close; as his hips continued to thrust, he shifted his arm and reached his hand down between Penelope’s legs to stimulate her so that they could enjoy that release together.

Penelope opened her eyes in amazement, wanting to see him and for him to see her as she gave herself over to the overwhelming pleasure, her body tightening as she teetered on the edge.

And then, with a loud cry of ecstasy, Penelope let herself go.

Colin’s mouth dropped open wider at the sound, his brow furrowing and his eyes briefly squeezing shut as he surrendered to his release, his veins from his forehead almost popping and his body trembling.

He fought hard to keep his eyes open so that he could watch Penelope as she came undone before him, and it was the most thrilling, mesmerising, beautiful thing he had ever seen. Her hands reached out frantically to his shoulders and arms, wanting to grab whatever part of him she could, to call his attention back to her. They both twitched and moaned loudly as their eyes met, both in utter awe, amazement and disbelief that they were seeing new exposing, vulnerable sides of one another that neither had seen expressed before; it was incredible.

With a final, trembling cry, Penelope then shattered, her hand slapping his back as her body convulsed beneath him.

‘Oh, yes,’ Colin whispered, utterly enraptured, his tongue flicking out just a little as he watched her with an open mouth and a mesmerised gaze.

He studied Penelope’s face in awe as she relished in the sensation, her head thrown back, her eyes closed, her forehead creased with pleasure as she clutched Colin’s hair at the nape of his neck. A dreamy smile of bliss slowly spread on her face as their breathing calmed down. She gently unclenched her fingers from his hair and moved her hands to stroke his arm.

They both gazed at each other for a moment, stunned by what they had just experienced, and Penelope began to giggle. Colin’s face broke out in a beam, and he chuckled as well, lost in blissful disbelief and overwhelming delight. It was joyful to know that even now, when fully naked and their bodies still connected, they could still giggle together like the childhood friends they were. What the two of them had just shared had been something beyond comprehension. They had melted into one another, they had united beyond their bodies, they had sealed their union. And it was so wonderful for them to both simply laugh about how incredible that fact was.

Colin’s gaze was so adoring, Penelope almost couldn’t cope. She bit her lip, unable to keep the smile from her face as she gazed back at him, stroked his bare chest and reached up to caress his face. There was no hesitation with how or where to touch him now; she felt like something had evolved between them, that there was almost a knowledge and ownership of his body that she could comfortably convey and embrace.

‘Was it all right?’ Colin asked softly.

Penelope loved that that was the first thing he had to say; it was almost comical. It took her every effort not to scoff at him incredulously as she exhaled. ‘All right’. What a bizarre term to use to describe the most incredible experience she had ever had in her entire life. Did he really not know how wonderful he was?

‘It was perfect,’ Penelope replied breathlessly.

In truth, she couldn’t see how it could have been anything but perfect in her eyes, because it was him. Colin Bridgerton. The man she loved and trusted and knew above all else.

Colin felt himself flood with relief at her words. He knew that she had been sexually gratified, but he cared about her experience in a deeper sense; he wanted to make sure that every aspect had been good for her, emotionally as well as physically. From her reaction, it certainly seemed that it had.

Penelope hesitated for a moment as she watched his breathing slow down, her eyes running up and down his flushed face. ‘Can we do it again?’ she said.

She asked the question somewhat timidly, yet her eyes were hungry. It was simultaneously adorable and sensual, and it delighted Colin.

He considered her thoughtfully; he was mightily impressed by her confidence, stamina and eagerness. ‘Give me five minutes,’ he said with an amused smile, and then he raised his eyebrows at her. ‘Maybe ten.’

Penelope laughed, her face lighting up adorably, and it was the most beautiful sight and sound; Colin knew he would never be able to get enough of it. Colin laughed as well, for any joy and amusement of hers he shared too.

Penelope then lifted her head up to close the distance between their faces; Colin’s brow furrowed intensely as his lips met hers.

Penelope’s hand caressed his back as they kissed languidly beneath the peacock-blue satin blanket, wanting to savour each moment of their newfound intimacy. When they broke apart, Colin exhaled deeply, overwhelmed, and Penelope smiled as she slowly dropped her legs from around his waist. They both relaxed in each other’s arms, satisfied and contented. Far more than contented, even – they had just experienced the deepest and most intimate connection two people could possibly have, and it had been spectacular. Magical. Beautiful.

Colin shook his head at her in awe, still smiling. ‘That was…there are no words. Oh, Pen,’ he said, exhaling giddily as he adjusted himself and moved closer, drawing her into his arms so that they could nestle together on the chaise longue. ‘Do you have any idea what you have done to me? I do not think I have ever been so happy in my entire life.’

Penelope gazed back at him, her eyes wide with wonder, as if the world had shifted beneath her feet. ‘It’s like you can read my mind. I feel exactly the same way,’ she said softly, her hand reaching up to cup his cheek, her fingers trembling ever so slightly as they brushed against his skin.

Their lips met in another tender kiss, slow and lingering, as though neither wanted to break the spell that had woven itself around them. When they finally parted, they remained close, their foreheads touching, their breaths mingling as they held each other. It was as if the world beyond their embrace had ceased to exist, leaving only the heady wonder of this newfound, undeniable truth between them.

Breathless and utterly undone, Colin traced a gentle finger along Penelope’s flushed cheek. With a soft, giddy laugh, Penelope nestled even closer, her fingers tracing delicate patterns on Colin’s chest, while he pressed a tender kiss to her hair. She tucked herself into the crook of his arm, and Colin’s hand found its way to the small of her back, holding her as though she were the most precious thing in existence. He knew that, in all the world, there was no place he would rather be than here, with her.

As the warmth of their passion slowly ebbed into a gentle, all-encompassing calm, Colin pressed another soft kiss to her temple, a smile still curving his lips.

‘This…this is everything,’ he murmured, his voice low and reverent.

Penelope sighed contentedly, the weight of his words sinking into her very soul. Her eyes fluttered shut as she nuzzled even closer, her own smile mirroring his.

And in that moment, they both knew – without a shadow of a doubt – that they had found something rare, something that transcended the ordinary…something that would bind them together for eternity.

Chapter Text

The soft, ambient glow of the sunlight filtered through the curtains of Colin and Penelope’s new apartment, casting a warm, golden hue over their flushed bodies as they lay entwined on the chaise longue.

Everything had changed between them, absolutely everything. And yet, strangely, that concept was not a terrifying one. Their friendship had not been diminished in the slightest – it had only grown, with additional layers added here and there until it had blossomed into something rare, beautiful and extraordinary. They had missed one another for so long without properly realising it, but now they could make up for lost time, finally in the same place, their hearts beating as one.

He was hers, and she was his. And nothing had felt more right than that.

Although their embrace earlier had been a completely new experience for Penelope and an awakening for her, in some ways Colin felt as if it had been his first time as well; he had never known intimacy beyond physical pleasure before, and Penelope was his safe space for that, just as he was for her. Penelope had always been the home he had been missing, without him even realising. But now, at last, he knew.

Just like Colin, Penelope was all aglow. Her head was resting on his broad chest, feeling the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing while she traced lazy circles on the firm muscles of his skin with her fingertips, savouring the quiet moment. It felt like her heart was singing, or quite possibly flying, and she had taken off, soaring with her newly-sprouted wings into the sky. She had never known she had the ability to feel like this. So overwhelmingly satisfied. So incandescently happy. So blissfully in love.

‘I understand now,’ she murmured.

‘Understand what?’ Colin said softly as he stroked her arm.

‘Why everyone is in such a rush to get married,’ Penelope said, and she giggled. ‘How ever do people stop themselves from doing this all the time?’

Colin chuckled loudly. ‘Well…I suppose it depends on the person. For some, it is not always pleasant. But for others…those lucky enough to be married to a partner who they…enjoy…then it is very difficult to stop indeed,’ he said, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

He grinned as he kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her chin, her neck and then at last her lips. They laughed in between their kisses, and Penelope simply could not fathom the idea of sexual congress not being a pleasant feeling for everyone. It was utterly divine. Miraculous, even. But then again…perhaps not everyone was as…enjoyable as Colin.

When they eventually broke apart, she sighed wistfully, her head resting on his shoulder. ‘This feels like a dream,’ she said, her voice soft and filled with wonder.

Colin smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. ‘If it is, I hope we never wake,’ he replied, his hand gently caressing her back.

They lay there for a moment, wrapped in a comfortable silence.

And then Penelope bit her lip. ‘It’s been more than ten minutes, hasn’t it?’

Colin couldn’t help smirking smugly to himself. ‘It has…’ he said in a tantalising voice.

Penelope lifted her head, her eyes sparkling mischievously. ‘Do you think we could...?’ she asked, her voice trailing off, a hint of shyness colouring her cheeks.

Colin’s eyes darkened with desire, a slow smile spreading across his face. ‘I think,’ he said, his voice a low, rumbling whisper that sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine, ‘that is an excellent idea.’

With that, he shifted, positioning himself above her, his gaze locked onto hers with a burning intensity that made her breath catch. He lowered his head and kissed her lips in a way that was both tender and fervent, their mouths moving together in a slow, sensual dance.

 Once they were both gasping for breath, Colin then began to trail his lips along her jawline, down the column of her neck, and across her collarbone, and Penelope shivered under his touch. His hands roamed over her body with gentle, possessive strokes, his touch igniting a fresh wave of desire within her.

In-between her moans and gasps, Penelope managed to say, ‘You said…earlier…that there were parts of me that you dreamt about.’

Colin paused, his mouth hovering just above her collarbone. ‘Yes, I did.’

Penelope’s parted lips began to smile. ‘Tell me.’

‘I already told you,’ Colin said, his hand reaching out to gently cup and stroke her breast.

Penelope sighed deeply as he caressed her. ‘I know,’ she gasped, fighting to keep her eyes open. ‘But I want to know more. What happened in those dreams?’

Colin began to grin at her, loving this new confident side of her. ‘You wish for me to tell you?’ he said teasingly.

‘No,’ Penelope said, her eyes smouldering. ‘Show me.’

Raising his eyebrows at her, his lips twitching, Colin then continued his journey downward, his touch leaving a blazing trail of fire in their wake.

Penelope gasped as Colin’s lips travelled lower, caressing the swell of her breasts. His tongue flickered out to tease her nipple, and she moaned softly, her fingers tangling in his hair as he lavished attention on her, worshipping every inch of her.

Gasping loudly, Penelope then turned her head and glanced at their reflection in the full-length mirror across the room. She was astounded at the sight; Colin lying on top of her, his hands exploring all over her naked body, groaning while his mouth passionately kissed and sucked on each of her breasts, as if he had been starving for them for years. It made the burning sensation within her grow even stronger, which she hadn’t thought possible.

Overcome, Penelope’s head then fell back against the chaise, her eyes fluttering closed as she surrendered to the exquisite sensations and massaged his hair with her fingers, clutching him even closer to her while he worked his magic.

Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, Colin moved back up her body, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss. She kissed him back desperately, clutching him closer to her as he positioned himself above her, his gaze locking onto hers once more with a burning intensity.

‘Now?’ he whispered against her lips.

‘Now,’ she breathed, her voice filled with longing.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Colin then entered her, their bodies coming together in a perfect, exquisite union, and Penelope inhaled loudly in delight.

They began to move together, their rhythm unhurried but passionate, savouring every moment, every sensation. Colin’s hands roamed over every curve and hollow of her body, his lips pressing kisses to her skin wherever he could reach. Penelope responded with equal fervour, her hands exploring the expanse of his chest, his shoulders, and his back.

As their kisses and movements grew more intense, Colin’s fingers tangled in her auburn hair, pulling gently and sending a shiver of excitement down her spine.

‘Colin,’ she whispered, her voice a breathless plea.

With that, he claimed her lips once more, his hands continuing their journey through her hair, his lips never straying far from hers, his bare torso pressed against hers.

Each touch, each kiss, drove them both closer to the edge of their control. Penelope’s breaths came in shallow, rapid gasps, her body arching into his touch. Her fingers dug into his back as she pulled him closer, needing him more than ever as she moaned loudly into his mouth.

As they found their release together, their cries mingled, echoing through the room.

Colin murmured her name breathlessly, and he laughed in disbelief as they both slowly relaxed, his hand reaching out to caress her cheek. Penelope, still panting from their excursions, leaned into his hand on her cheek and began to kiss his palm, then each of his fingers, slowly, languidly, making Colin exhale deeply. He was so in awe of her. He leaned in and kissed her lips tenderly, and she began to giggle.

‘What?’ Colin murmured, an adorable smile on his face as his fingers gently stroked her messy hair.

Penelope pressed her smiling lips together. ‘Again?’ she said in a small, eager voice.

Colin laughed, shaking his head in exasperation at her. ‘Penelope Featherington, you are a menace,’ he said, and Penelope laughed.

Afterwards, the two of them lay entwined on the chaise longue in comfortable silence, their bodies spent but their hearts full. How much time had passed since they had arrived at their apartment, Penelope wasn’t sure, nor did she care. It wasn’t as if her mother would be worried about her whereabouts, after all. She had no right to involve herself in Penelope’s life in such a way anymore.

Penelope still couldn’t believe her new reality, lying curled against Colin’s naked body as he held her under the satin blanket on the chaise longue. She was a little sore between her legs from their activities, but she didn’t mind; it had definitely been worth it. She slowly brushed her fingers over the hair covering his chest as she gazed adoringly up at him, listening to his heart beating. She wished they could just stay here for a lifetime. Perhaps they could lock the door to their apartment and throw away the key, then they would be trapped here, just the two of them. Why not? There was nowhere they needed to be anyway, not really. They could simply stay here, wrapped in each other’s arms, and get to know one another better, taking their time until they knew every inch of each other’s bodies and inner thoughts better than their own.

The world could be ending, and there was no other place she would rather be. She had all she needed right here.

Colin was equally as besotted; he simply couldn’t stop staring at Penelope’s face as she lay there, curled up to his chest, her fingers caressing him. How had he got to be so lucky? An awestruck smile began to appear on his lips.

Penelope smiled timidly back, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed by how he kept staring at her. ‘Do I look a mess?’ she asked.

Colin’s smile grew as he looked over her tangled hair. ‘Yes,’ he replied honestly, and Penelope chuckled. ‘But you are my mess.’

Penelope chuckled again, touched by his response, and watched as his lips parted and his gaze turned to her mouth. She would never grow tired of him looking at her like that, as if he found her to be the most desirable woman in all of London – in all of the world, even.

‘I hope I was all right for you,’ Penelope said softly, as she continued to run her fingers through his chest hair. ‘I know you are more experienced.’

Colin looked at her for a moment fondly. Her insecurity was somewhat endearing – and most definitely relatable – but also ridiculous. She had not just been ‘all right’, as she had put it. She had given him everything his heart desired. She had been spellbinding. It had been the best time he had ever had.

He leaned his face closer to her and raised his eyebrows earnestly. ‘There is nothing that compares to this,’ he said, with conviction in his voice.

His gaze was firm, and he held his eye contact with her; he wanted to make absolutely sure that she was hearing him. With the other women he had been with in the past, there had barely even been any physical kind of connection; it had been meaningless and temporary, whereas this, with Penelope…it was out of this world…it was a connection that went beyond anything he had known before. It had left a mark that would never leave him. It was as if his soul had been touched by hers.

Penelope’s heart skipped a beat at Colin’s words and the sincerity with which he had said them. She knew Colin better than anyone; he valued honesty and truth, and he would never have said such a thing without meaning it. It meant the world to her.

Her face broke out in a cheeky grin as she gazed back at him. ‘Not even the women in Paris?’ she said playfully, wiggling her eyebrows.

There wasn’t a hint of jealousy or possessiveness in her tone of voice and expression; she was teasing him, and Colin loved her for it. There would never be a dull moment with her, of that he could be certain. She would always keep him on his toes.

Colin grinned as well, and they both began to laugh. He threw his head back as they giggled together, relishing in the moment, and basking in the joy of someone knowing him so completely. To know that he would get to laugh like this with Penelope in his arms for the rest of his life was a very fine thing indeed.

Penelope nuzzled further into her chest, grateful that she no longer had to refrain from such an action; she could touch him and cuddle him as much as she wanted now. He was all hers for the taking. How was this her life now? Penelope still couldn’t fathom it.

‘Will you let me read more of your writing?’ she asked, and Colin hesitated as he looked at her, touched by how she hadn’t forgotten his journal. ‘You promised me you would.’

‘That is true,’ Colin said thoughtfully. ‘And I do not like to break a promise.’

Penelope smiled slightly, but then she caught sight of herself in the full-length mirror across from them. Her expression grew serious, and her breathing began to deepen as she took in her reflection. It was such a bizarre sight, to see her and Colin lying there naked together under the blanket, so close to one another and so content, as if they had been doing this the whole time. But it was also a rather sombre sight that made her realise that, as vulnerable and exposed as she had been with Colin in this room today, she still hadn’t shown him everything about herself.

There was a sword hanging over her head, and Penelope knew that she would never be able to relax or be fully happy until it was dealt with. Everything would change once Colin found out the truth about Lady Whistledown, but it was a risk she had to take; he deserved to know, and after experiencing something so special with him, Penelope could not bear to keep hiding it from him. It was tearing her apart from the inside out, and now was as good a time as any to reveal her secret.

Feeling rather apprehensive, Penelope then lowered her eyes and turned back to face Colin, her blissful joy slowly being replaced by an uncomfortable, nervous energy. ‘Colin, there is something I must tell you,’ she said tentatively.

Colin frowned; she sounded rather serious all of a sudden, and her expression had become wary. ‘What is it?’ he asked.

Penelope considered him for a moment. Her gaze fell to his lips; she wondered if she would be able to kiss him for one last time, before she broke the news that may cause their magical spell to break.

Before she could act on the impulse, however, there was then a knock at the door.

Penelope frowned in alarm and immediately pressed the blanket closer to her chest; she had thought they had been alone in this apartment. They must have been so lost in one another that they hadn’t heard anyone enter.

Colin turned to the door, stunned. ‘Damn. That must be the servants, no doubt,’ he said, scrambling to his feet, ‘bringing over my personal effects.’

All too aware of how exposed she was, Penelope slowly sat up on the chaise longue, keeping the blue satin blanket wrapped firmly around her naked body to cover herself up as she watched Colin stand, a smug smile on his face, and retrieve his shirt. Her eyes ran up and down his naked body, taking in the glorious sight as he pulled his shirt on and bent down to pick up his breeches.

Penelope’s face fell as she adjusted the blanket more firmly around her chest, and she blinked rapidly. She felt rather annoyed by the interruption. There was never any perfect opportunity to reveal to one’s future husband that you were in fact the notorious gossip-writer he so despised, but that moment just then, when he had been in such a perfectly blissful mood, had been as good as any. She had been so close to having the courage to tell him, and he might have been more forgiving, more understanding, so wrapped up in his affection for her and the aftermath of their lovemaking that he wouldn’t have even cared that much. But now the moment had passed, and she wasn’t sure when she would next get that chance.

She suddenly felt rather ashamed. She had let herself get swept away by his defence of her to her mother, she had let him take things further, and they had been as intimate as any two people could be with one another – there was no going back from that, and yet there was still this monumental lie between them. It felt like she was betraying him with every second that passed.

‘We can take my carriage across the park,’ Colin said, pulling his trousers up and fastening his belt. ‘No one will see us. It seems rather ridiculous, though, that we should even be concerned about being seen given we are betrothed, but…well, we should try to keep up appearances and do things properly when we are in public, I suppose. For our family’s sakes.’

‘I agree,’ Penelope said, without really knowing what she was saying.

Colin picked up on her empty tone at once and looked up at her, concerned. She showed no signs of moving from the chaise longue, despite the knowledge that the servants were right outside the door; her eyes were unfocussed, and she looked rather unsettled.

‘Pen?’ he asked softly. ‘What is the matter?’

Penelope blinked and looked at him. ‘N-nothing,’ she said, wrapping the blanket more firmly to cover her chest.

Colin smiled at her. ‘They will not enter this room without my saying so, do not worry,’ he said, gesturing the door. ‘I will head out there and deal with them, they shall be gone soon.’

Penelope nodded, but Colin couldn’t help noticing that she still looked rather uneasy. It then dawned on him that perhaps the servants waiting outside were not the issue at all. 

His face fell ever so slightly. ‘P-Pen, I…I am sorry, I realise we should have…discussed this properly before…’ he said, and Penelope frowned at him questioningly. ‘I had wanted to wait until we were wed, but I let myself get carried away-’

But Penelope, realising where he was going with this, shook her head desperately, leapt up at once and walked over to him. The blanket fell from her naked body as she went but she did not care; she needed to reassure him immediately, before any further doubt settled in.

‘Colin, please. Stop,’ she said, grasping both his hands in hers. ‘The last thing I wanted to do was wait.’

She had done enough of waiting for Colin to last her a lifetime.

Colin swallowed and nodded; he’d needed to hear that. ‘I know, but I…I was raised to act honourably and to be a gentleman but-’

‘And you are a gentleman,’ Penelope said, gazing up at him lovingly. ‘And I am to be your wife.’

To her surprise, she then let out a little hysterical giggle, and she covered her mouth, bemused.

Colin grinned at her. ‘What is it?’

‘Just…saying that out loud, sorry, it…it just seems very…fantastical,’ she said, shaking her head, and she met his adoring gaze. ‘But it’s real.’

‘It is,’ Colin murmured, a dazed look on his face as he smiled back at her.

She moved her hands up to his shoulders. ‘I wanted it to happen, Colin, more than anything. And it was wonderful,’ she said, her voice breaking slightly on the last word as she tried not to let her emotions get the better of her. ‘Do not take that away from me with your talk of honour, please.’

Colin smirked. ‘Very well. But still…I…I should have told you what it meant,’ he said, and he gulped as he looked down, somewhat awkwardly. ‘What we did. Wh-what it could mean, that is.’

‘You mean…that I may now be with child?’ Penelope said, her voice tentative.

Colin looked at her, surprised. ‘I thought you did not know-’

‘I did not know the…technicalities of what was involved, but I heard enough from Marina and my sisters to understand what could happen as a result of being…intimate,’ Penelope said. ‘My mama has been insisting my sisters do it as much as possible since the start of the season.’

Colin pulled a face. ‘What a horrifying thought,’ he said, and they both chuckled before he placed his hands on her bare waist and brought her closer to him. ‘You must know, it is extremely unlikely…for it to happen on the first time. It normally takes couples a while to conceive, I believe.’

Penelope nodded. ‘Would you mind, if I…if I were? With child?’ she asked hesitantly. ‘It’s not exactly the proper way round of doing things.’

‘Mind?’ Colin said, and he beamed. ‘Penelope, I would be…nothing makes me happier than the thought of the two of us starting a family.’

Penelope exhaled shakily in relief. ‘Me too,’ she said, smiling back at him.

‘Besides, we will be wed in a few weeks’ time, so the, err, timing of this will not really matter,’ he said airily.

Penelope raised her eyebrows at him. ‘Only a few weeks, is that so?’

‘W-well…if you want that,’ Colin said hastily.

Penelope’s smile grew as she leaned her chin on his chest and gazed up at him. ‘I do want that. Very much. More than anything.’

Colin smiled back at her, his hands stroking her bare waist. They both barely noticed the second tentative knock on the door from outside the room. Colin then took a slight step back, keeping his hands still on her, and shook his head exasperatedly as he looked her up and down.

‘What is it?’ Penelope said, her smile faltering ever so slightly as she moved her arms, as if to cover her breasts again.

‘Are you trying to torture me?’ Colin said, his lips twitching and his eyes darkening with hunger as he gestured her. ‘How can I possibly go out there and speak to the servants when you look like that?’

Penelope beamed giddily, and put her arms back to her sides at once; she knew she did not need to cover herself anymore, not for Colin. ‘My sincere apologies, Mr. Bridgerton,’ she said playfully.

They both laughed as Colin then drew her close, bent down and pressed his lips tenderly to hers.

Unfortunately, the moment was broken by yet another knock at the door.

‘I shall be there in a moment,’ Colin called to the door agitatedly.

‘Yes, sir,’ the servant called back.

Colin and Penelope turned back to each other and giggled. Penelope then stroked his chest for a moment, before reluctantly doing up the buttons of his shirt.

‘I shall wait in the bedchamber while you speak with them,’ she said, straightening his collar.

Colin nodded, and cupped her face. He then watched her grab the blanket and walk into the next room, a proud smile on his face, before turning to open the door and speak to the servants.

Once the servants had left his belongings outside and moved to the next room in the apartment to set things up, Colin headed into the bedchamber and found Penelope wrapped in the blanket and sat at the vanity table, looking into the small mirror. She was giggling slightly as she glanced at her reflection, her eyes falling over a small scratch on her arm, her flushed cheeks, her smudged makeup, and her curls that had fallen out so that her hair was almost frizzy.

‘Uh…’

‘What is it?’ Colin said, amused.

She laughed softly, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. ‘Look at what you’ve done to my hair,’ she said, gesturing her messy locks.

Colin grinned, his eyes twinkling. ‘I think it’s perfect,’ he said, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead. ‘Just like you.’

Penelope smiled at him, blushing. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘I suppose we both have some tidying up to do.’

Colin chuckled. ‘I would say it’s worth it,’ he murmured, sounding blissfully content.

Penelope’s heart swelled as she gazed up at him. ‘I quite agree,’ she said.

They both giggled against each other’s lips as they shared a soft, lingering kiss.

When they broke apart, Penelope pressed her lips together, suddenly looking rather embarrassed. ‘I may…need to, uh, have a quick wash before we depart,’ she said, somewhat awkwardly.

Colin nodded in understanding. ‘Of course. Forgive me, I…’ he said, chuckling slightly. ‘I shall ask one of the servants to draw up a bath.’

Penelope chuckled as well. ‘I ought not to be here, really. Not alone,’ she said, twiddling her fingers.

‘They are discreet,’ Colin reassured her.

‘And you are an expert at bribing, as I recall,’ Penelope said, wiggling her eyebrows at him.

Colin smirked. ‘That is also true.’

It didn’t take as long as they had thought for Penelope to get ready to depart. Once she had bathed, they headed back to the main suite and retrieved her clothes left discarded in front of the full-length mirror. She put on her drawers herself, but Colin insisted on helping her with the rest. He laced her back up into her corset, tying the ribbons slowly while occasionally placing tender kisses on her bare shoulder. He then helped her into her dress, closing the hooks at the back and smoothing the skirts of her gown. Then, it was time for the trickiest part: the hair. To Penelope’s surprise, Colin did not seem too perturbed by the challenge.

‘Having four younger sisters has its advantages,’ he said, grinning, as he helped smooth down her locks. ‘I have experience in helping with such matters in an emergency.’

‘I can quite imagine,’ Penelope said, giggling.

They both tidied her curls as best as they could using a comb from the vanity table, then Colin fastened her hair back into its updo and placed the hairpin in place. Penelope had never been more impressed with a man; it almost looked just as Rae had styled it at Featherington House.

The two of them stood looking at themselves in the mirror for a moment, and Colin curved his arms around her waist from behind, a tender smile on his face. He couldn’t pretend that he hadn’t been desolate and blue these past few weeks, but now at last all was well with the world.  He had Penelope enveloped in his arms, time had stopped ticking, and he had never been more blissfully happy. The two of them had found each other by pure serendipity, and it had all happened so quickly yet also not quickly enough. But at least he knew with absolute certainty that, when they were old and grey and losing their memory, she would still be his.

‘I rather like this mirror,’ Penelope said, stroking his arm as he held her.

‘Me too,’ Colin murmured.

Penelope swallowed. ‘Perhaps…perhaps we could move it to our bedchamber, after we are married,’ she said in a small, hopeful voice.

Colin’s eyes widened in amusement. ‘Penelope!’ he said playfully, making her giggle, and he pressed his lips to her neck as he held her from behind. ‘I think that’s a marvellous idea.’

He then spun her around to face him and bent down to kiss her deeply. Penelope stretched up and wrapped her arms around his neck as she kissed him back with smiling lips.

Colin sighed when they broke apart. ‘Damn it,’ he said, leaning his forehead against hers as he held her waist. ‘I wish we could stay here all day.’

‘I know,’ Penelope murmured. ‘But we must go.’

‘Yes. We must,’ Colin said reluctantly, and he gave her one last firm kiss before letting go and moving to the other side of the room to retrieve his coat.

Penelope took a moment to exhale and take it all in. She looked around the suite in awe. The furnishings were perfect, and arranged just as she liked. The walls were painted a sumptuous teal, almost as if a deliberate blend of the Featherington yellow and the Bridgerton blue. The whole apartment, although presently waiting for its new owners to move in, held within it the promise of intimate gatherings and cherished moments of pure joy.

This is our home, Penelope realised.

It hadn’t fully hit her until this very moment. She wasn’t sure why. This was their special place the two of them could always go to, a place where they would begin their marriage and build happy memories, a place where they could make their own rules and live exactly as they wanted, without the judgement or manipulations or scorn of others.

Was this truly to be her life now? Where Colin was her lover, where he would always hold her close, where he would take her home, where she would truly end up as his wife?

If so, then Penelope was quite certain that this dazzling haze would never leave her. And, even when consumed with guilt and regret for not speaking up about Lady Whistledown, she couldn’t help but let herself revel in the delight of that fact.

Chapter Text

The Bridgerton’s carriage moved calmly through the misty park back towards Mayfair. Even on a day devoid of sunshine, the manicured lawns of the park and bursts of colour from its meticulously-arranged flower beds offered a pleasing contrast to the sombre sky.

Penelope was sat right at Colin’s side inside the carriage, and she linked her arm through his. She was feeling a swirl of emotions – exhilaration, contentment, and a nagging sense of melancholy that she couldn’t seem to get rid of. She clung nervously to his arm, wanting to feel him close to her as she debated furiously with the voice in her head on whether now was the right time to tell him what she should have told him back in their apartment – no, what she should have told him the moment he had asked for her hand in marriage.

Colin kept his arm brushed tightly against Penelope’s chest as he smiled at her adoringly. The intimacy they had just shared in their new apartment lingered in the air, wrapping around them like a warm blanket. His chest was puffed out in pride; the way she was holding him as they sat here in the carriage was almost as how a wife would act towards her husband. They were already practically married.

His eyes fell to her lips, so full and irresistible, and he swallowed. ‘Perhaps we ought to, uh, ensure our privacy this time,’ he said, and they both exchanged a knowing smirk.

Colin turned to adjust one of the brocade window coverings, completely obscuring the view so that they would not be caught together unchaperoned. It was ironic that he would fuss himself with such a thing now, after all that had transpired in last night’s carriage ride…not to mention earlier in their apartment.

Penelope knew that she ought to be amused, but she couldn’t relax enough to enjoy the moment. Her secret identity was an invisible barrier between her and the man she loved, and she could not cope leaving that barrier up.

I should have told him. That had been my chance earlier. I should have told him.

She was in despair; she now knew more fully what she would be losing if she told Colin about Lady Whistledown and he rejected her, and the thought was truly unbearable to her. She had to tell him in a way that would ensure his forgiveness, but how?

She regarded him soberly, her lips parting slightly and her hand running gently up and down his arm as she tried to think of how best to broach the topic now, but something about his face kept her silent. His lips kept twitching with a hint of a smug grin; she knew exactly why, and she didn’t want to spoil their afterglow, not just yet. Her eyes ran up and down his body, remembering how it had felt with him crowding over her, his arms so strong, his skin so soft, his lips and hands worshipping every inch of her body. She still couldn’t believe it.

Colin couldn’t stop smirking, no matter how hard he tried; he was utterly lost in the vivid memories of their embraces on the chaise longue. He was smitten and could barely contain his goofy grin, still in a haze of lust as he cast his mind back over the best sexual experience of his life…of Penelope’s naked body, of her face flushed with desire, of her loud moans…

He gazed ahead; he had to avoid temptation, after all, and it didn’t help that Penelope was practically glowing beside him. She looked like a goddess, and he had just spent a rather long time fixing her hair; he didn’t want to make a mess of it again. Besides, it would not look good on either his or Penelope’s part if he returned her to her house looking dishevelled, right after her mother had questioned Penelope’s honour by insinuating that she had compromised herself.

Colin’s lips twitched again as he fought back another huge grin. He hadn’t thought it possible to become even more infatuated with Penelope, and yet here he was. It was like she had infected him with a most delicious fever. He was obsessed with everything about her; her hair, her dress, her face, her smile, her kisses – each part made him dizzy with happiness. His lonely days were gone; she had knocked him completely off his feet and made him feel ecstasy in a way he hadn’t even known was possible. She was the one for him, and it felt like his joy would never end.

Out of nowhere, a fanfare of trumpets then began to play loudly outside.

Curious, Penelope turned to the window and peaked out from behind the curtain; their carriage had approached a grand colonnade of imposing columns and sweeping archways, where members of the ton, undeterred by the lack of sunshine, were strolling leisurely along.

Penelope frowned as she took in the sight, while Colin leaned close to her to peer out of the window as well. Royal servants from the palace were assembled outside, dressed in their finest red-and-gold livery, and were distributing what appeared to be handbills to the nobles passing by.

‘A letter from the Queen,’ Penelope heard one of them say.

The people walking past were looking excited and shocked by what they were reading.

Intrigued, Penelope turned to smile at Colin. Unable to mask his curiosity as well, Colin then knocked on the roof of the carriage to draw them to a stop, a small smile on his face.

One of the royal servants approached their carriage and waited for the Bridgerton footman to crack open the door. Colin couldn’t keep the smug smile off his face as he peered outside to address the royal servant.

‘By proclamation of the Queen,’ the servant rang out, and Colin hastily accepted the handbill from him.

Penelope had a huge smirk on her face as the footman closed the door on them both. After all Colin’s efforts in drawing the curtains all around them, he had just let the two of them be seen in here, alone, by a royal servant. It was incredibly thrilling. 

‘What is it?’ Penelope asked, leaning closer to him with an adoring smile on her face and linking her arm around his tightly again.

‘It is a message from the Queen,’ Colin said, intrigued, as he skimmed over the handbill and Penelope brushed her hand up and down his arm.

‘Mm,’ Penelope said, barely registering what he was saying; she was too enraptured by the fact that this man was hers, to lean against and press into and hold onto as often as she liked.

But then Colin began to read out the contents of the royal handbill:

‘“Dearest members of my most esteemed ton, I hereby declare that whoever brings legitimate evidence of Lady Whistledown’s identity to the palace shall receive a £5,000 reward. Yours truly, Her Majesty, Queen Charlotte.”

It took a while for Penelope to be brought out of her lovestruck daze, but the moment Colin uttered the words ‘Lady Whistledown’ her attention perked right up, and she leaned forward, her fascination with Colin’s strong arm momentarily forgotten, her smile fading at once, as she looked at the handbill herself, to see if it were true.

And there it was. In black and white. The Queen was on the hunt for her.

Penelope’s chest began to heave unevenly as she stared at the paper in Colin’s hands.

Colin smiled down at the handbill, pleasantly surprised by the Queen’s actions. ‘Finally, the woman will get the consequences she deserves,’ he said enthusiastically, with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Penelope sat back against the seat of the carriage, feeling a little faint. She couldn’t bear to hear Colin talk about her like that. But of course, he didn’t know he was talking about her.

Why hadn’t she told him the truth before Queen Charlotte’s handbill had come out? Now this latest development would only make it even harder. Impossible, even.

‘Imagine...unmasking Whistledown,’ Colin said, almost wistfully.

Penelope turned to face him anxiously. ‘You will not try, will you?’  she asked, her voice wavering slightly.

‘I am certain I will not have to,’ Colin said. ‘Someone else will surely root her out.’

Penelope gave him a small, faltering smile as she nodded. She did not believe he was right – she was far too careful to be caught – but his words did have some weight to them. She had assumed earlier in their apartment that Colin, given his kind and loving nature, would be understanding once she revealed the truth to him about Lady Whistledown. But she had clearly been turning a blind eye – or rather, deaf ear – to just how much contempt he had for her alter ago. He would not be forgiving, nor compassionate. He would not understand in any way. He might even despise her. And Penelope could not bear that thought.

Colin’s eyes flickered to her lips, and, with a grin, he wrapped his arm around Penelope and pulled her in closer. He did not care that he was practically pulling her onto his lap; he did not want an inch of space between them. They had a lot of lost time to make up for, after all.

Penelope’s lack of response and fading smile then made Colin remember her strange behaviour in the apartment earlier.

‘Oh, what did you wish to tell me?’ he asked softly, a concerned frown on his face.

Penelope’s heart skipped a beat as her eyes searched his face. She knew she had to tell Colin the truth. It was the right thing to do, and he deserved it. But she had finally got everything she had been pining after for what felt like her whole life. And if – no, when – she told him this rather crucial piece of information about herself, she could lose it all. Was she really so wrong to hesitate?

So, she let her fear make her decision for her: she would remain silent, at least for the moment. The right time would come eventually. She was sure it would.

Penelope began to shake her head. ‘Nothing,’ she said in a small voice, blinking rapidly. ‘It is not important now.’

She tried to smile at him, but she could feel tears beginning to build in her eyes, so she looked down at her lap.

Luckily, Colin seemed too smitten to notice.

‘Hm,’ he said, smiling warmly at her as the carriage rattled along out of the park towards Grosvenor Square.

Penelope then leaned into him, resting against his chest, and Colin closed his eyes in content and inhaled deeply, trying to take it all in – her scent, her touch, the way they could now sit like this so closely and it be absolutely fine because they were to be wed and this was to be their future. Their glorious, joyous future.

Penelope stared off, a faint crease appearing between her brows as Colin then reached out for her hand on her lap; their fingers intertwined, and yet she could not even relish in the moment, for she was in too much torment.

As the carriage continued to rattle along the cobblestone streets, the unsteady sway seemed to match the rhythm of Penelope’s racing heart. Feeling rather forlorn, she leaned into Colin’s comforting embrace with a soft sigh, her head resting against his shoulder. Colin pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his arm tightening around her as if to shield her from the world as he held her close.

Penelope breathed in deeply, savouring the scent of him, and then, almost instinctively, she tilted her head up, her gaze locking onto his. The world outside the carriage faded away as she closed the distance between them, her lips finding his in a deep, lingering kiss. He kissed her back slowly, tenderly, his hands slipping around her waist to pull her closer.

But as they broke apart, reality intruded; Grosvenor Square was mere moments away. Though they both longed for more, they knew that this would have to suffice – for now.

‘Penelope… today was…’ Colin began, his voice a hushed murmur.

‘Wonderful,’ she finished for him, a smile playing on her lips as she reached up to stroke his cheek.

He nodded, his breath catching as her hand found its way into his hair, her fingers stroking his luscious locks. He grinned, the boyish charm that had always made her heart flutter now so intimately familiar.

Penelope felt her cheeks begin to redden. ‘What?’ she said softly.

‘You really like my hair, don’t you?’ he said, a playful spark in his eyes.

Penelope smirked. ‘Does it show?’ she asked.

‘A little,’ he admitted, his eyes gleaming with amusement. ‘I like yours as well.’

‘You do?’ she said, smiling.

‘Hm-hmm,’ he murmured, brushing a stray curl away from her face.

‘But you prefer it down,’ she said, blushing as she remembered his words from in front of the mirror earlier.

‘I…love it however you wear it,’ he said.

‘Even when it used to look like a poodle?’ she teased.

Colin laughed. ‘Even then.’

The carriage continued to roll along, and as Colin gazed adoringly at his future bride, he found himself marvelling at how drastically his life had changed in just a matter of weeks. At the beginning of the season, he had laughed in people’s faces when they had posed to him the ridiculous prospect of falling in love. The very notion was something for poets and dreamers and fools, and he had sworn off entertaining such an idea entirely, for to be a true man of the ton, only meaningless physical relations were allowed.

What a fool he had been.

Now he had fallen, and here he was, utterly bewitched by the woman beside him. As they arrived at Grosvenor Square, he couldn’t help wondering if he were perhaps simply dreaming all of this. He wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest; something so perfect couldn’t possibly be real, after all. But the warmth of Penelope’s hand in his, the sound of her soft laughter, and the taste of her kiss told him otherwise. This was his reality now, and he cherished every moment of it.

These past twenty-four hours had been a whirlwind of emotions, and so much had changed in that short space of time, altering the course of his entire life, shaping the path of his entire future – his future entwined irrevocably with his wonderful fiancé. Colin knew now with absolutely certainty that his love for Penelope was higher, deeper and stronger than anything in existence. And there was no force in this world that could ever take that away from him.

‘Oh, I forgot to mention,’ Colin said, breaking the comfortable silence as he caressed her hand with his own. ‘Anthony and Kate returned home today, and Kate and my mother have already started preparing for our engagement party. They would like it to be the day after tomorrow. Is that too soon?’

‘Not at all,’ Penelope replied, her eyes lighting up. ‘I would like that very much.’

‘Good,’ he said, a note of relief in his voice, ‘because I think Mrs. Wilson has already nearly finished writing the invites to send out.’

They both laughed, the sound mingling with the soft clatter of the carriage as it pulled up outside Featherington House.

Penelope’s smile faltered as she looked out through the window and took in the familiar façade; her heart sank at the thought of stepping back inside.  ‘I do not wish to go home,’ she said in a rather small, quiet voice.

‘It will not be for long. I promise,’ Colin reassured her, squeezing her hand. ‘Your new home will be with me very soon.’

Penelope turned back to him and smiled. ‘With you,’ she echoed, her heart fluttering at the thought.

‘I shall try to arrange the wedding date for as soon as possible,’ Colin said.

Penelope nodded fervently. ‘Please do.’

Colin took her hands in his, pressing a kiss to the top of them before squeezing them tightly to his chest. Then, unable to resist, he pressed kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, her chin, her nose, and her eyelids, each touch drawing a giggle from her until he finally claimed her lips once more. They both laughed, their happiness bubbling over, too great to be contained.

‘I keep expecting to wake up,’ Colin said, his voice tinged with wonder as he rested his forehead against hers and they gazed at one another.

‘So do I,’ Penelope said, her eyes shining with the same disbelief. ‘I cannot believe this. Any of it.’

Colin nodded, a grin tugging at his lips. ‘These past two days have been rather…eventful.’

They shared another laugh, but Penelope then reluctantly turned back to Featherington House, where she caught sight of Mrs. Varley, hovering near the entrance outside the house, broom in hand. She was clearly pretending to sweep the front doorstep but was far more interested in peering into the carriage.

Penelope sighed as she turned back. ‘I must go,’ she said, her heart heavy with the prospect of leaving him.

‘I know,’ Colin said, wishing he didn’t have to let her leave.

‘I do not want to,’ she said, her eyes meeting his.

‘I know that as well,’ he said, squeezing her hands once more. ‘I shall miss you.’

Penelope frowned at him, bemused. ‘But our engagement party is only the day after tomorrow, isn’t it?’ she pointed out.

‘Yes. And I shall still miss you,’ Colin replied earnestly; anytime they were apart, he would miss her.

Penelope shook her head at him in disbelief, a smile tugging at her lips as she marvelled at the fact that he was real. Impulsively, she then pressed her lips to his, ignoring the prying eyes of Mrs. Varley outside.

‘Your housekeeper can see-’ Colin began, but she cut him off.

‘Let her see, I do not care,’ she said defiantly.

She kissed him again, wrapping her arms around him. He kissed her back with an almost desperate groan, his hands in her hair and on her waist as they lost themselves in each other’s tender embrace.

‘I really must go,’ Penelope whispered against his lips, pulling away reluctantly; she shouldn’t lose control with him, after all, not here.

‘Yes, you really must,’ Colin agreed, though neither of them seemed eager to move.

They both grinned, embarrassment mingling with the desire they could barely keep in check. Colin took one last look at his future bride, taking in every inch of her. Her smiling lips parted and her eyes grew hungry as she watched him; she greatly enjoyed seeing his gaze lingering on her décolletage and her lips.

Then, finally, Colin stepped out of the carriage with a grin, offering his hand to help her down. Penelope accepted, but as she climbed out and stood before him, he couldn’t help noticing the way her expression had shifted, the shadow that lingered in her eyes, the distance that seemed to creep into her expression. Just like earlier in the apartment when the servants had interrupted them, she didn’t look quite herself.

‘Pen, are you sure you are all right?’ he asked, concern knitting his brow.

Penelope swallowed; she had just seen someone walking past on the pavement with a Whistledown paper. ‘I’m perfectly well, thank you,’ she replied, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘Good day…Mr. Bridgerton,’ she added with a playful smirk.

Colin grinned. ‘Good day…Miss Featherington,’ he replied, though he frowned slightly as he watched her, searching for any sign that she was truly as fine as she claimed, before she waved, blushed and hurried up the steps.

As Colin turned back to the carriage to head home, Mrs. Varley eyed Penelope sternly, though her lips twitched.

‘Do not say anything, Varley,’ Penelope said as she hurried past her into the house.

‘My lips are sealed,’ Mrs. Varley replied in amusement, a knowing smile playing on her lips as she followed her inside.

***

Night had fallen; Colin wasn’t sure how the time had gone by so quickly since he had dropped Penelope off outside her house, but in a way he was glad, because it kept bringing him closer to the next time he would see his beloved bride-to-be.

He was sat at the desk in his study, rifling through the pages of his journal. A loose sheet of paper lay before him, waiting for him to make a start on his next project.

After today in his and Penelope’s new home, he was more alive than ever before. He felt like a shooting star, travelling at the speed of light with nothing to stop him as he burned through the sky, bragging about his overwhelming joy to the entire world. He needed to channel this energy into something productive, and Colin knew the perfect thing: writing. And not just any writing – he wanted to start a manuscript…to write out the story of his travels, and his heart. He had never felt more inspired.

Steeling himself, Colin then picked up his quill and began to write on the paper, referring to his journal as he went.

He had only written one sentence on the blank sheet of paper when he noticed a figure enter through the doorway, and his heart jolted unsteadily; it was Eloise, looking rather serious.

‘Eloise,’ Colin said in pleasant surprise, as he put down his quill. ‘I have been looking for you.’

He hadn’t seen her yet since announcing his and Penelope’s engagement to the family. Looking back now, he realised how insensitive he had been last night in letting her find out the news of the betrothal in that way. In his euphoria of all that had happened with Penelope in the carriage and her accepting his proposal, he had completely forgotten that she and Eloise had fallen out.

He rose from his desk, smoothing down his shirt, and regarded her cautiously. He knew he owed her not just an apology, but an explanation. The only thing Eloise had asked of him was to not bring Penelope to their house, and yet last night he had brought her back as his fiancé. Colin hadn’t even thought it through at the time; what had happened with Penelope had been out of his control, and his love for her had simply overflowed.

But still, it hadn’t been fair on Eloise for him to do what he had done. He should have spoken to her first about how he felt before announcing the news with no prior warning. The least he could do was offer her the whole story now; she deserved the truth.

Eloise folded her arms, looking deeply uncomfortable. Colin wondered if their mother had forced her to come up here to speak with him – he wouldn’t put it past her.

‘Uh...may we?’ he said tentatively, indicating one of the chairs at the card table.

Eloise considered him for a moment, as if still stunned from last night’s announcement, and moved wordlessly towards the card table as he pulled out a chair for her.

They both sat down at the table, Colin feeling increasingly wary as he took in the stone-faced expression on Eloise’s face. She cleared her throat and kept her arms tightly folded, her lips pursed. She couldn’t seem to bring herself to look him in the eye.

Colin looked down for a moment, trying to find the right words, and leaned towards her. ‘I apologise,’ he said sincerely, ‘for not telling you sooner about my feelings for Penelope-’

But the moment he uttered the word ‘feelings’, Eloise immediately began to retreat; clearly, it was too much for her.

‘Ah,’ she interrupted, a bitter smile on her face as she got to her feet. ‘In fact, I think I shall stand.’

‘Eloise,’ Colin protested with a frown, rather irritated by her petty attitude now, as he rose too.

Eloise’s voice was loud and cutting when she next spoke. ‘It is strange enough to have one’s brother speaking about feelings for one’s friend, but you have known we were at odds and still you went behind my back,’ she said sharply, her eyes filled with accusation.

‘I know,’ Colin said, his guilt rising as her words resonated with him. ‘And I am deeply sorry. But I love her, El, in more ways than I can even express.’

It was not like he could have tried to stop it from happening. One didn’t get to choose who one’s soulmate was, after all. He knew now that he and Penelope had always been inevitable – it had simply been a matter of when, rather than if, it would happen. It was just a shame that that timing coincided with Eloise’s inexplicable disdain for Penelope.

Eloise held her arms out incredulously, as if she could not think of anything worse, as if his words were poison to her ears. ‘Perhaps it is better you do not try,’ she said, fed up.

She turned as if to leave, but Colin wouldn’t have it.

‘And you loved her once, too,’ he said, pointing at her.

Eloise froze.

I’ve got you there, Colin thought triumphantly.

No matter how much she might pretend to dislike Penelope at present – for whatever bizarre reason – even Eloise, as stubborn as she was, could not deny that her and Penelope’s bond had been stronger than anything any of them had ever known.

‘You were inseparable,’ Colin continued, and Eloise opened her mouth wordlessly, clearly wanting to protest but unable to think of how so instead she simply folded her arms tightly against her chest, as if to protect herself. ‘I remember the day the Featheringtons moved in across the square. From that day on, it was, “Penelope this,” and “Penelope that,” and “Penelope and I are going to read Don Quixote, and we are going to be knights.”’

Eloise’s anger had faded somewhat; at least, her eyes seemed to have glazed over with something akin to nostalgia…fondness, even.

She rolled her eyes, evidently hating that he was right. ‘I was devastated to learn we were not allowed to take fencing lessons,’ she said reluctantly.

Colin smiled. ‘Mm,’ he said; he remembered very well. 

A small pause fell between them. He didn’t want to interrogate either Eloise or Penelope on what exactly was the reasoning behind their quarrel – he had tried asking both of them a few times, with no success – but it was greatly frustrating, remaining so ignorant on the matter. He couldn’t understand how his sister could be so furious with Penelope; they had been part of one another from the moment they had met as children. Before their falling-out, Eloise would have been delighted for Penelope and her brother, and supported their match. Yet now she was acting as if it was the worst possible thing in the world. Colin, and the rest of their family, had assumed their bond had been unbreakable – whatever could have destroyed it must be serious indeed. And yet, despite wracking his brains over and over, Colin was completely lost as to the cause.

Colin took a few steps towards her. ‘Penelope is going to be your sister soon. There was once a time that would have been your greatest dream,’ he said, his eyes searching her face earnestly, almost pleadingly.

It devastated him that two of the most important people in his life were no longer on speaking terms, particularly when they had been practically twins for years, always glued to each other’s hip. Yes, he was somewhat grateful that Eloise’s sudden new attitude towards Penelope had meant that he had been able to discover more of Penelope himself and realise his feelings…but still, he didn’t want their estrangement to last forever. He knew that Penelope was upset by it, and anything that upset her upset him too.

He took another step towards Eloise; she flinched back, as if afraid of what he was about to say. ‘It would mean the world to me to have your blessing. And I know it would mean a great deal to Penelope too,’ Colin said softly.

Eloise merely stood stiffly before him, her jaw set.

Colin couldn’t fathom it. What could possibly have occurred between the two of them to make Eloise so set against Penelope joining their family? Penelope was utterly faultless, after all. She was the sweetest, kindest, funniest woman he had ever known. How could Eloise treat her with such contempt now?

Nevertheless, he did not want to press the issue. He knew that the only way he would be able to get the two of them eventually reconciled was through slow, gradual steps.

He gave Eloise a small, hopeful smile, though she was averting her gaze.

And then he remembered the news from today that was bound to cheer her up.

‘Oh. I almost forgot. I have a gift for you,’ he said, crossing over to his desk, picking up the Queen’s proclamation and walking back over to her with a satisfied smirk. ‘I know you despise Whistledown as much as I do.’

Eloise eyed him warily as he handed over the handbill to her; she took it, and Colin left her to read it as he returned to sit at his desk.

When he looked back up, he was surprised to see that Eloise’s face had fallen in horror, and she was gazing at him with a most peculiar look in her eyes, as if…as if she felt sorry for him. Or perhaps worried for him. Colin couldn’t be sure.

‘Everything all right?’ he asked, frowning in concern.

Eloise swallowed. ‘Y-yes,’ she said, though her voice cracked; she cleared her throat as she put down the handbill. ‘Perfectly.’

‘It is good news, is it not?’ Colin said eagerly, gesturing the handbill. ‘She will finally be caught! We will be rid of her for good at last.’

‘Yes. It…it is very good news,’ Eloise said, though her voice sounded uneasy, and she took a few steps back. ‘Forgive me, Brother, I have a slight headache coming on, I should retire to bed.’

‘Oh, of course. I hope you feel better soon,’ Colin said, but Eloise had already hurried away from the study without another word.

He frowned to himself as he stared at the open doorway through which she had disappeared; that had been odd. He would have thought that Eloise, of all people, would have been openly ecstatic about the news of the Queen’s hunt for Lady Whistledown.

He barely had chance to contemplate Eloise’s strange behaviour or refer to his journal to resume his writing when he then received another visitor: his mother.

Violet walked into the study, a huge smile on her face. ‘My dear,’ she greeted warmly, her eyes alight. ‘Have you had a pleasant day?’

Colin looked up and smiled. ‘I have had…the most wonderful day,’ he said, blushing slightly. ‘Thank you, Mother.’

Violet’s smile deepened at his response. ‘I am glad to hear it. I just wanted to let you know that we are all set for your engagement celebration. Kate has done a marvellous job with the arrangements,’ she said, clapping her hands together.

‘I do not doubt it,’ Colin said, grinning. ‘Thank you, for both your efforts in putting it together so quickly.’

‘Of course, it is no trouble,’ Violet said, her hand playing idly with the corner of her shawl. ‘I did not have time to visit the Minister, I’m afraid, but I could do that tomorrow. Do you have any plans? You could always join me.’

Colin’s eyes lit up at the prospect. ‘That’s a splendid idea. I only need to meet the jeweller tomorrow for my appointment, and then I’m all yours for the day.’

‘The jeweller?’

‘For Penelope’s betrothal ring, of course,’ Colin replied, with a touch of excitement. ‘I want to choose the perfect one and have it set and fitted for her as soon as possible.’

An adoring expression spread across Violet’s face as she gazed at her son. ‘How lovely. Do you and Penelope have any ideas for dates, for the wedding?’ she asked, and Colin swallowed awkwardly. ‘Perhaps six weeks’ time? Or two months? Or would you like to wait a little longer? Some couples do wish to prolong and enjoy the engagement stage, after all, and then have their wedding as the grand event for everyone to look forward to at the end of the season.’

Colin hesitated, glancing away briefly before responding. ‘Err, yes…that might be a bit further out than Penelope and I would prefer. You see, we would very much like an early wedding. There is no point in dragging out the engagement unnecessarily when Penelope and I have practically been courting for the past few years anyway,’ he said airily.

‘I see. So, six weeks, then?’ Violet asked, her voice steady but her eyes searching.

A pause hung in the air.

Violet spoke again, her voice slightly wavering. ‘L-less than six weeks?’

‘How about three?’ Colin suggested with a casual shrug, his tone firmer now, as if resolving the matter in his own mind.

Violet’s mouth popped open incredulously. ‘Th-three weeks?!’ she said, her eyes wide with disbelief. ‘Colin, I…I am not sure that would be wise-’

‘We would not need a special license for that, surely?’ Colin said, frowning.

‘Well, no,’ Violet admitted, looking rather perplexed, ‘but still…that is remarkably fast. It would be a stretch to put such an event together with such limited time, and people may talk…’

‘I understand that,’ Colin said, nodding slowly as he tried to find the courage to say what he knew needed to be said. ‘But, uh…I just believe it would be best if the wedding take place as soon as possible. For…reasons.’

Violet raised her eyebrows at him. ‘For reasons,’ she repeated.

‘Yes,’ Colin said, clearing his throat.

‘I see.’

Another pause stretched between them as they looked at each other. Colin knew she would not press further; she did not need to, for she knew exactly what he was implying.

Eventually, Colin could bare it no longer and he looked down gruffly. ‘You are ashamed of me,’ he murmured to the floor. ‘I…I am sorry.’

Violet’s expression softened immediately. ‘No. No,’ she said quickly, and she moved over to grab his hand at once in reassurance. ‘I am just…a little surprised, that is all.’

Colin met her eyes earnestly. ‘I have acted honourably, Mother. W-well…by mine and Pen’s standards, I suppose…-’

Violet pressed her lips together and closed her eyes, her expression a mixture of stern disapproval and suppressed amusement. They both felt rather embarrassed.

‘And Penelope, she…’ Colin continued, a soft chuckle escaping his mouth as his eyes glazed over with wonder. ‘She is quite extraordinary. Truly, she…she surprises me every day, which I adore, and she trusts me and wants…she wants our life together. As soon as humanly possible. And if that is how she feels, then…well, I feel it ten times more.’

Violet gazed up at him, suddenly looking rather emotional. ‘My, my. You really are in love, aren’t you?’ she said softly, dazed.

Colin’s smile widened, pride and certainty radiating from him. ‘I am.’

For a moment, they simply smiled fondly at each other, a shared understanding passing between them. It was nice to know that both he and his mother were in agreement that, no matter the reasoning for a rushed wedding date, nothing was more important than that simple fact: love. And Violet Bridgerton famously understood the depth and power of love more than anyone in existence.

Violet reached over, her hand gently squeezing Colin’s. ‘I am proud of you, Colin,’ she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. ‘You and Penelope...you have found something rare and precious. I wish you both every happiness.’

Colin smiled, his entire being filled with gratitude and love for the woman who had always been his guide, his anchor. ‘Thank you, Mother. I have no doubt that we shall be very happy indeed,’ he said, sounding rather choked up as he squeezed her hand back.

The world outside could be unpredictable and full of challenges, but here, in the warmth of his study, with his mother by his side, Colin knew that he was on the right path. Love, after all, was worth any rush, any leap of faith. And with Penelope, he was ready to embrace it all. Penelope was his tomorrow, and he was eager to begin that journey with her, no matter how quickly it approached.

When Violet left the study later, Colin’s heart swelled with a sense of certainty that had been absent for far too long. It didn’t matter if the skies darkened with rain or if the world outside grew cold. It didn’t matter if he was destitute or unpopular. Penelope was his spring, his sunshine, his fortune. The details of their wedding – the venue, the guests, the expectations – seemed to blur into insignificance compared to the simple, undeniable truth: he loved her. She was his world, his everything, and nothing could dim the warmth and light she brought into his life. Their future would be a beautiful one, so long as they were together. And he knew, with every beat of his heart, that only Penelope Featherington – soon to be Penelope Bridgerton – could make him feel this way.

With his heart full and his mind clear, Colin then turned back to his writing desk, where his journal and the sheet of paper still lay waiting. He sat down and picked up his quill, and, taking a deep breath, he began to write the tale of his most wonderful, exhilarating journeys – those of Europe, and those of his mind and heart. The ink flowed smoothly, just as his love for Penelope had always done, unwavering and true. And as he wrote, a smile played at the corners of his mouth, for he knew that the best part of his life had just begun.

Chapter Text

Penelope sighed deeply as she stepped through into her family’s townhouse and turned back just in time to watch Colin leave in his carriage back to the other side of the square. That was her future husband right there. She still couldn’t believe it – even now, after all that had occurred between them in these past twenty-four hours.

Mrs. Varley watched her with a chuckle. ‘Ah, young love,’ she said wistfully, before bustling past and heading up the stairs to continue with her day’s chores.

Smiling weakly, Penelope turned her back on the front door and looked around her house – or rather, what was soon to be her former house. The echo of her footsteps in the empty hallway sounded almost accusatory, each one a reminder of the truth she carried like a leaden weight in her chest. Her heart was still racing, though whether it was from the past few intoxicating hours spent with Colin or the suffocating fear gnawing at her insides, she couldn’t say.

She had spent the day in a haze of bliss, caught in the intoxicating web of Colin’s love and desire for her. Their new apartment had become a sanctuary, a world away from the watchful eyes of the ton and the burden of her secrets. In his arms, she had felt safe, cherished, worshipped, and for a few fleeting hours, she had allowed herself to live in the fantasy she had clung to for so long – a world where she was simply Penelope, and he was Colin, and their future would be bright and untroubled.

She could still feel the warmth of Colin’s touch, the tender way he had looked at her, as though she were the most precious thing in his world. But reality had a cruel way of creeping back in, and with every step she took away from him, the warmth turned to ice, and the fear that had been lurking at the edges of her mind all day began to consume her.

Queen Charlotte’s proclamation chilled her to the bone. The walls of her carefully-constructed secret world were closing in on her, and she felt like a hunted animal, trapped, terrified and desperate to find refuge. She had always known deep down that this day would come, when her dual life would come crashing down around her, but she had never imagined it would come so soon, so suddenly, when she had just begun to taste happiness and everything had finally begun to feel so right.

And what of Colin? The love of her life, the man she had yearned for in secret for so many years. The man who had, against all odds, chosen her. The mere idea of telling him the truth about Lady Whistledown, particularly now after the Queen’s actions today, filled her with a dread so profound it was almost paralysing. Her heart clenched at the thought of seeing the warmth in his eyes replaced by cold disdain.

She could still hear Eloise’s voice in her bedchamber that night at the end of the Featherington Ball last season, the hurt and betrayal cutting through her like a knife when she had discovered the truth. Her harsh words and the way she had turned away from Penelope, severing the bond they had shared since childhood, still cut deep; it was as though a piece of her heart had been cleaved away, leaving a raw, aching wound that had never fully healed. If Eloise, who had known her better than anyone, could reject her so completely, then how could she hope for anything different from Colin?

She had finally captured the heart of the one man who saw her, truly saw her, beneath the veneer of the shy, overlooked girl she had always been. Yet, that very man now held the power to cast her aside as everyone else had done before. The terror of it twisted her stomach into knots.

Penelope had spent her entire life being overlooked, ridiculed, dismissed and neglected – by her mother, her sisters, and the ton at large. She had grown up in the shadow of everyone else, always the wallflower, always the one left behind. It was Colin who had made her feel seen, loved. And yet here she was, holding onto a truth that could obliterate it all, and the idea that Colin might look at her with the same contempt, the same disappointment…it was unbearable.

She knew she should tell him. They could not live together in a lie, and it was the only way forward. But then she imagined the look on Colin’s face when he discovered the truth, the way his smile would falter, the light and love in his eyes dimming to something colder as he realised who she truly was. She was a coward, but she was also in love, and that love made her weak – terrified of ruining the happiness she had finally found. Telling the truth, even though she knew it was the right thing to do, was not easy when she had everything to lose. If she told Colin, everything would shatter, and she would be left with the harsh reality that he might never forgive her. He would pull away, just like everyone else had. He would reject her, and she would be left alone, once again.

Penelope paused in the corridor, leaning against the wall as she closed her eyes and forced herself to take a steadying breath.

The grim reality of her life was creeping back in, but she was not ready to face it and let go of the fantasy yet. And she was certainly not ready to lose Colin’s love, not when she had only just found it. She just wished that she could hold onto this moment forever, and suspend time in the golden glow of their shared joy. But she knew better than anyone that reality was not so kind. The clock was ticking, and soon, everything would change.

But not today. Not when the Queen was out hunting for her and all the ton could talk about was Whistledown. It just wasn’t the right time. She knew deep down that she was just using any excuse to avoid telling Colin for a bit longer so that she could enjoy the glorious, happy daze of their engagement and all that had happened between them since yesterday, but really, could anyone blame her for wanting that?

For now, she could cling to the remnants of her happiness, even if it was only a temporary fragile illusion, and allow herself some more time of blissful ignorance. She could still pretend that they were just Penelope and Colin, that the world wasn’t closing in on her. She could still bask in the memory of his touch, the warmth of his embrace. She knew it couldn’t last, that it was only a matter of time before everything fell apart. But she wasn’t ready to give it up just yet, because once the truth was out, once she told Colin who she really was, she knew there would be no going back. And the thought of losing him, of losing the one person who had ever truly seen her, was more than she could bear.

She would return to Colin’s embrace when they next were to see one another, and for a little while longer, she would be Penelope Featherington, the woman he loved…and not the infamous Lady Whistledown, the woman he hated.

Penelope then pushed off the wall, straightened her spine, and continued down the hall. The enormous fear lived inside her still, but for tonight, she would bury it deep, where even she could not find it.

Tomorrow, she promised herself. Or perhaps the next day.

She would tell him then. She had to.

As to what she was going to do about Queen Charlotte’s reward and everyone in the ton no doubt set on hunting for her, she had no idea. But that, strangely enough, was the least of her worries for now.

The sun set soon after Penelope had returned home, and she spent most of the evening either daydreaming over Colin’s naked body pressed against hers as he did such unspeakable things to her on that chaise longue, or fiercely contemplating the best way Lady Whistledown ought to respond to Queen Charlotte’s most recent move in their game of chess.

Her sisters spent a few hours over at the house, nibbling at dainties and gossiping over how Lady Whistledown would be discovered, while also speculating as to how their younger sister could possibly have secured Colin Bridgerton as a fiancé. This was where the evening turned truly strange; Portia reprimanded both Prudence and Philippa for their abusive, ‘uncouth’ behaviour towards Penelope, and stated that Featheringtons needed to support one another.

Penelope had no idea what her mother was up to, but she knew that there was nothing at all genuine about this sudden change in attitude. She could only assume that Portia felt guilty about their confrontation earlier and had decided, in the time that had passed since their heated discussion about her betrothal, that it would be wise to attach herself to the Bridgertons. But Penelope was not naïve, and she was certainly not going to pretend that everything was perfectly fine between her and her mother after the unforgiveable way in which Portia had spoken about her and Colin today.

So, Penelope retired to her bedchamber early to escape her tedious family – and to get to work on the latest issue of Lady Whistledown, which she knew must somehow dissuade the Queen and all the ton from their fruitless hunt for her.

When Rae came in later to help Penelope undress and get ready for bed, she paused and frowned in confusion, having noticed the fact that her corset was tied a little differently to how she had done it this morning. Penelope caught her eye; Rae’s lips twitched, but they both seemed to reach a silent agreement to not say anything. As soon as Rae had left, Penelope took out all her Whistledown materials and began to scribble away at her desk, the thought of Queen Charlotte’s irritating handbill driving her forward despite how emotionally and physically exhausted she was from the past two days.

It felt like the writing was on the wall, like her time was up. But Penelope would not accept that. She had been everywhere in front of everyone, hidden in plain sight all this time, and she had got away with it perfectly well – aside from Genevieve, Eloise, the Featherington coachmen and quite possibly Rae figuring it out…but still, she had more or less managed to keep her identity a secret, and she would continue to do so.

The Queen thought she could catch her, but Penelope was determined to prove her wrong.

No one would ever catch Lady Whistledown. Not on her watch.

***

The next morning dawned bright and cheerful, with the sun filtering through the grand windows of the Featherington residence, casting soft light on the elegant decor. Penelope was lost in thought as she moved down the corridor, wondering if she had enough courage now to pay a visit to Colin and tell him of her scandalous secret, but was then abruptly brought back to the present by the sound of hurried footsteps. She turned just in time to see Mrs. Varley rushing toward her, her normally calm demeanour unusually flustered.

‘Varley…is everything all right?’ Penelope asked, her brow furrowed with concern; Mrs. Varley had a look of barely contained excitement on her face.

Mrs. Varley stopped before her, practically beaming. ‘Ooh, everything is wonderful! The Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton are here to see you,’ she said, and she let out an excited chuckle, her hands wringing together in what could only be described as glee. ‘Your mama is away at the Modiste…she will be so very sorry she missed this.’

Penelope stood stunned for a moment, her eyes wide in disbelief, the words not quite registering. The Bridgertons? Here? For her? She felt her heart pound as she nodded to Mrs. Varley and quickly made her way toward the drawing room, her mind whirling.

As she entered the room, her breath caught at the sight before her. There, standing side by side in perfect harmony, were Viscount Anthony Bridgerton and his wife, Kate, the epitome of elegance and grace. They looked so splendid together, and every bit the regal couple. But what truly caught Penelope’s attention was the way they stood so close together, far closer than most married couples would in public. Anthony’s hand was resting gently, almost protectively on Kate’s belly; Penelope couldn’t help wondering whether Kate might be expecting. She had always been very good at observation, after all.

The pair seemed so wrapped up in each other that they didn’t even notice that Penelope had entered the room until she cleared her throat softly to announce her presence.

‘Lord and Lady Bridgerton,’ Penelope greeted them with a curtsy, her voice a bit shaky.

Anthony turned to her, his face lighting up. ‘Miss Featherington. Penelope,’ he said, giving her a warm smile as he and his wife walked over to her. ‘I hope you do not mind us calling on you unexpected.’

‘N-not at all, I…I am honoured by the visit. Is Colin well?’ Penelope asked, trying not to appear as worried as she felt. ‘Is something wrong?’

Her mind was racing with possibilities. What if Colin was having cold feet? Or what if Colin had found out about Penelope’s secret identity and Anthony was breaking off their engagement on his behalf? Or what if Eloise had spoken to Anthony, as the head of the family, and he did not want the marriage to go ahead?

But she was reassured almost instantly as Kate and Anthony then exchanged a fond chuckle, their eyes meeting briefly before Kate turned her warm smile back to Penelope.

‘Colin is more than well, thanks very much to you,’ Kate said, her smile reaching her eyes as she looked at Penelope.

Anthony nodded, a soft expression on his face. ‘Indeed. He is happier than I have ever seen him. We just wished to pay a visit to offer our congratulations in person. And to welcome you to our family,’ he said warmly, and Penelope’s lips parted in surprise. ‘We are all thrilled about your engagement.’

Penelope blinked as their words settled in slowly, and she felt her cheeks flush. ‘Oh. My…my goodness. Thank you, Lord Bridgerton,’ she managed to say.

Anthony shook his head with a slight chuckle. ‘Ah – no. No, it is Anthony to you now.’

‘B-but-’ Penelope stammered, only to be gently interrupted.

‘No ‘buts', you are to be my sister,’ Anthony insisted, tilting his head at her with a kind expression. ‘You always were an honorary member of our family anyway; this just makes it more official.’

A small, inaudible gasp escaped Penelope’s lips, and she felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. The warmth of his words, the sincerity in his tone…it was more than she had ever dared to hope for.

Kate stepped closer, her voice gentle. ‘Indeed. And you must call me Kate.’

Penelope blinked back the tears, her heart swelling. ‘I…I do not know what to say. Th-thank you,’ she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

Anthony’s brow furrowed slightly. ‘Whatever for?’ he asked.

‘For…for being so kind, and welcoming. Yours is a very precious family indeed. It is a rare thing,’ Penelope said fondly, wondering if they knew just how truly lucky they were.

Anthony’s chest swelled with pride as he and Kate exchanged a loving smile. ‘That, I know.’

‘And it will grow even more precious by your presence,’ Kate said to Penelope, her gaze full of such genuine joy and adoration that it made Penelope’s heart soar.

‘As it has by yours,’ Anthony said to his wife, turning to Kate with a smug smile on his face that Penelope recognised only too well; it was a trademark look of all three elder Bridgerton brothers.

Kate rolled her eyes at him in exasperation. ‘Anthony, this is not about me!’ she said reprovingly, though her eyes glistened playfully and her lips were twitching.

Penelope watched the married pair in awe. They looked at each other as if they were the only two people in the world. Clearly, everything was about Kate in Anthony’s eyes. 

Kate then turned back to Penelope. ‘We will not keep you,’ she said. ‘We know you will be very busy with your preparations for the wedding and your new home. We just wanted to see you in person.’

‘I am very grateful for your visit,’ Penelope said earnestly.

‘Nonsense,’ Anthony said, and he took a few steps closer to her. ‘And, Penelope, if there is anything you need in the meantime, please do not hesitate to let either of us know. I mean it, truly.’

Penelope gazed at him in wonder. Something about the way Anthony looked at her then made Penelope wonder if Colin, or perhaps even Eloise, had spoken to him of her treatment here by her family. There was a sincerity in his gaze that made her feel as if he already saw her as his sister, someone to be cared for, and that he was taking on the role of an older brother, one whose sole duty was to protect her. She felt overwhelmingly touched by it.

‘Thank you. I will,’ Penelope promised.

Kate smiled warmly. ‘We shall see you at the engagement celebration.’

‘I am very much looking forward to it. Thank you…for arranging it, and…well, for everything,’ Penelope said, trying not to sound too emotional.

‘Of course,’ Kate replied, briefly touching Penelope’s hand.

They all shared a fond smile before Mrs. Varley reappeared to escort the Bridgertons out.

As soon as the door had closed behind them, Penelope’s smile faltered, and she sank to the settee with her head in her hands. She had thought it bad enough that she was deceiving Colin about Lady Whistledown, but now the guilt gnawed at her more than ever. It wasn’t just the man she loved that she was betraying; her secret affected every single member of the Bridgerton family. The very family who had just welcomed her so graciously into their fold.

I cannot keep it secret from them forever.

The fear of this realisation gnawed at her, a dark and insidious presence that she couldn’t escape. Penelope didn’t know how much longer she could keep up the charade, but for now, she would hold onto it for as long as she could. Because once it was over, once Colin and his family knew the truth, she would most likely lose them all forever, Colin and the entire Bridgerton family. And that, more than anything else, was a reality she couldn’t bear to face.

***

The sun had already set by the time Penelope and her mother arrived at Bridgerton House for the highly-anticipated soirée to celebrate her and Colin’s engagement. Other guests were conversing outside as their carriages dropped them off; Penelope and Portia stopped briefly to accept their congratulations on the engagement, before being admitted inside by a footman.

They entered the foyer and walked through into the entrance hall, which had been transformed into a dazzling spectacle for the event. The hall was ablaze with the soft glow of countless candles, their golden light reflecting off the opulent crystal chandeliers overhead. An abundance of flowers adorned every available surface; magnificent bouquets of roses, lilies, and peonies were artfully arranged in crystal vases, their vibrant hues and delicate fragrances creating a sumptuous atmosphere. Tables laden with refreshments stood along the sides of the hall, their surfaces covered with pristine white linens and decorated with yet more floral arrangements. Platters of delicacies, crystal decanters filled with the finest wines, and punch bowls brimming with effervescent concoctions all tempted the party guests to indulge. The grand staircase, adorned with garlands of fresh flowers and velvet ribbons, offered a picturesque ascent to the upper floors, where presumably further festivities awaited. The room was filled with lively conversation and bursts of laughter, and the air buzzed with excitement as elegantly-dressed guests continued to arrive to celebrate Colin and Penelope’s unexpected yet utterly delightful betrothal.

Penelope looked around in awe, taking in the beautiful scene before them; Colin’s mother and Kate had clearly gone to great lengths to make this a celebration worthy of remembering. It was strange to realise that this house would soon become her family home as much as it was Colin’s.

Portia, typically, appeared unimpressed. ‘Hm. The decorations are somewhat more…drab than I remember, are they not?’ she said to Penelope, a rather sceptical expression on her face.

Penelope looked back at her mother, exasperated, but before she could utter a retort, she then noticed that Colin was approaching them.

Colin could barely contain his excitement as he crossed the hall over to Penelope. Penelope looked quite simply stunning; she wore a sparkling layered dress of spectacular tulle, the colour halfway between a pale lilac and mauve, patterned with floral embroidery. She was holding herself somewhat differently, as if more confident, with her shoulders pressed down and her beautiful hair flowing down her shoulder. Colin knew it wasn’t exactly proper for young ladies to wear their hair down at social events; he couldn’t help wondering if she had broken the rules deliberately for him because she knew how much he liked her hair like that. He very much hoped so.

Penelope beamed at Colin, thrilled simply just to see him walking over to her. It was the first time they had seen one another since their eventful day in their new apartment in Bloomsbury, and it felt like far too much time had passed since then. She had been craving nothing more than to see him ever since the moment he had dropped her back off at her house.

‘My bride-to-be,’ Colin greeted, his smile lighting up his whole face, and he held out his hand to her.

Penelope reached out and placed her hand in his; he beamed the moment their skin touched, and leaned down to kiss the top of her hand.

Colinn gazed at her, mesmerised, as he pressed his lips to her skin. They were surrounded by all these people, most of them who talked too much and were only here because they did not want to miss out on such a grand party, and yet they all faded away simply when Colin looked at Penelope. She looked so wonderful in her shimmering gown, with her hair falling on the side of her neck and down her shoulder. The light from the chandelier brought out the blue in her stunning eyes, and Colin knew that if those eyes were the last thing he ever saw, he would be most content. He was just so in love with her. She was all that he would ever need, and it was a blissful relief to have finally found that part of his soul that he had been missing all this time without even realising it.

Penelope watched him with dazed, awestruck eyes as he then straightened up. ‘Good evening,’ she said softly, unable to keep the smile from her face.

Colin smiled back at her, utterly smitten, and his expression began to shift as he took in her face, his lips twitching and his eyes darkening with hunger as he cast his mind back to the sight of Penelope throwing her head back in euphoria as she moaned, ‘Oh, yes,’, her naked body like that of a goddess as she lay beneath him…

Unfortunately, now was not the time to be thinking about Penelope’s moans or body.

‘And here is my son-to-be,’ Portia said, breaking into his reverie, as she cast him the falsest smile he had ever seen and held her arms out warmly.

Colin forced an awkward smile and nodded at her. ‘Lady Featherington. It is pleasant to receive such a warm greeting from you,’ he said rather pointedly, with a flicker of his eyebrows.

Portia sighed loudly and brought her hand up to her head. ‘I deeply regret my earlier comments,’ she said, while Penelope watched her, breathing somewhat heavily in dread as she wondered what schemes her mother had up her sleeve this time. ‘Let us put it in the past. Tonight, we celebrate our collective future.’

Penelope felt rather stunned as Portia then put an arm around her – she wasn’t used to any physical affection from her mother, not at all – and she turned back to glance at Colin. They exchanged a knowing look and smile, as if they could read exactly what the other was thinking.

‘Well,’ Colin said with a smile, his eyes flickering from Penelope back to her mother, ‘if that is your intent, then it shall be mine to honour it.’

Penelope smiled adoringly up at him, wondering how she could have got so lucky – not many men would forgive their future mother-in-law so easily after what she had said.

Her eyes then ran up and down Colin admiringly, unable to hide her longing for him. He looked so irresistibly handsome in his smart tailcoat and breeches. But she also knew what he looked like without any clothes on now. She knew what he felt like. She knew what he could do to her. Penelope wasn’t sure if she could wait for weeks until their wedding night to experience that again.

It took a few moments for Penelope to realise that her mother was speaking.

‘Oh, I must tell your mother how much I love what she has done with the decoration,’ she said, a disingenuous smile on her face, and she peered around anxiously. ‘Are the drinks nearby?’

She wandered off without another word; Penelope wanted to make some amusing comment to Colin about her mother’s bizarre behaviour, but found herself frozen instead – she had just noticed that Cressida Cowper, of all people, had somehow slithered her way into this party and was stood near the string ensemble, dressed in bright sparkling pink, and talking with Eloise. Of course she was. Penelope stared at them both, trying not to look as crestfallen as she felt.

Colin followed Penelope’s gaze, and clenched his jaw. He felt terribly guilty, but he wasn’t sure what he could do about the situation; as much as he longed to, he couldn’t very well kick Cressida out without causing a scene.

‘Eloise mentioned that Miss Cowper invited herself,’ Colin said quietly to Penelope, who turned to face him. ‘I was not sure I could say no, considering.’

‘It is all right,’ Penelope said, smiling at him as she fiddled with her hands.

She realised as she said the words that she meant them. There wasn’t much she could complain about in her life right now, not when everything was going so perfectly. She was engaged to be married to Colin Bridgerton – what did it matter if some childhood bully had crashed the celebration?

‘Good,’ Colin said, impressed by how gracious she was being, and he leaned towards Penelope with a playful glint in his eye. ‘I rather relish her presence, so that she can watch you in your triumph.’

He held his arm out to her; Penelope gazed at him in awe and a huge grin spread across her face as she linked her arm in his. She hadn’t thought of it like that. How very satisfying.

They both chuckled as they then walked into the centre of the room to greet some of the guests, who were quick and eager to congratulate them on their betrothal.

The happy pair stood together near an elaborately adorned table that groaned under the weight of an impressive display of cakes of every conceivable flavour, mountains of pastries, and other confections. Though surrounded by a sea of familiar faces, they seemed delightfully lost in their own world. After mingling with some other guests for a while, Colin and Penelope then found themselves momentarily alone, which they knew would be a rare occurrence in the flurry of the evening’s festivities. Colin leaned in closer to Penelope, his hand resting gently on the small of her back, as though to silently reassure her – and perhaps himself – that she was truly his at last.

‘Daphne has written to send her congratulations, by the way,’ Colin murmured, his voice warm and intimate amidst the din of the party. ‘She wishes she could be here to celebrate with us, but she’s in confinement at Clyvedon. Simon is apparently fretting like an old hen.’

Penelope smiled up at him, her heart swelling at the thought of Daphne’s well-wishes. ‘Of course, the baby will be due within the next month or so, won’t it? That is kind of her to write,’ she replied softly, grateful for the distraction from the scrutinising eyes that were following them. ‘I do hope everything goes smoothly for her.’

‘I am sure it will,’ Colin said, smiling. ‘She was born to be a mother.’

Penelope tilted her head at him. ‘Do you miss her?’ she asked.

‘All the time. It is difficult, her living so far away,’ Colin admitted, and he sighed. ‘But she and Simon are very happy in Clyvedon, away from all this.’

‘We shall have to visit them after the baby is born,’ Penelope said.

‘Yes,’ Colin said, thrilled by her words. ‘We certainly shall.’

Penelope giggled; it excited them both, to a rather ridiculous degree, just how joyful it was to use the word ‘we’ and plan their future together in such a way, knowing that they would be united as one very soon.

Another guest then approached, offering hearty congratulations, with thinly veiled surprise evident in her eyes. The guest, an elderly matron of some repute, was one of several who had already expressed shock at the sudden engagement; Penelope had, after all, been publicly courting Lord Debling – who apparently hadn’t been seen much around London since the Queen’s Ball – just the day before the announcement of her and Colin’s engagement. As the matron exchanged pleasantries with Colin, Penelope found herself enduring a sidelong glance, the woman’s curiosity poorly hidden.

Penelope could almost hear the whispering thoughts – was Colin marrying her out of pity? Out of some sense of obligation? Or did he feel entrapped? But, as Penelope turned her gaze back to Colin, any doubt that might have surfaced was immediately quashed. He was entirely focused on her, his eyes never leaving her face, his touch a constant and reassuring presence. The way he looked at her – like she was the only person in the room – left no room for uncertainty. Whatever the world might think, she knew with absolute certainty that Colin wanted her, truly and completely. And that was all that mattered.

As the matron drifted away, another couple promptly took her place to offer their felicitations, but not before Colin took the opportunity to press a quick, reassuring kiss to Penelope’s temple. Their guests chuckled indulgently, delighted by the obvious affection between the two.

Once the latest well-wishers had departed, Colin leaned closer to Penelope. ‘Mother and I have managed to secure a date for the wedding – three weeks from now, at St. George’s Church. What do you think?’ he asked, slightly anxious. ‘Not too soon, I hope?’

Penelope’s eyes widened with excitement. ‘Three weeks? So soon?! That’s perfect,’ she said, rather giddily. ‘We will barely have time to catch our breath, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.’

Colin grinned, his fingers brushing the curve of her waist. ‘Good. I was hoping you would say that.’

But then Penelope’s brow furrowed. ‘St. George’s…that’s a rather large church…’ she said slowly, suddenly sounding rather nervous.

‘If you would rather a smaller wedding, that is absolutely fine, we can change it,’ Colin said at once, an earnest gaze on his face as he took both her hands in his. ‘I just thought…I thought you deserved the best.’

Penelope shook her head at him exasperatedly, a dazed smile on her face. ‘Could you, for once, stop being so perfect? You make the rest of us look bad,’ she said, and they both laughed as she nuzzled her head into his chest, more in love with him than ever.

Before Colin could respond, they were then interrupted by a pair of elderly ladies who approached with wide smiles.

‘Mr. Bridgerton, Miss Featherington,’ one of them cooed, ‘such wonderful news! We were quite surprised, given recent…developments.’

Penelope felt a flicker of discomfort but kept her expression composed. She could sense the curiosity in their eyes, the unspoken questions about her hasty engagement to Colin after her courtship with another gentleman. But Colin’s presence beside her, his unwavering support, was all the reassurance she needed. He was glued to her hip, his hand never leaving her side, as if to silently declare to the world that she was his and that he was more than content with his choice.

‘Thank you, ladies,’ Colin replied smoothly, his charming smile in place. ‘We are quite excited ourselves.’

As the ladies drifted away, Penelope turned back to Colin, her voice barely above a whisper. ‘They are all wondering, you know. Why you would marry me.’

Colin’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he reached for her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. ‘I could spend days listing to them the many reasons why I am marrying you, but let them wonder,’ he said, his tone teasing. ‘Besides, they will have plenty more to talk about when they see how quickly we intend to marry.’

Penelope laughed softly, her tension easing. ‘Three weeks! Your mother is a marvel to have secured a date so soon.’

‘I may have…needed to persuade her,’ Colin said, grimacing at Penelope.

Penelope frowned at him, confused, and then realised what he meant; her eyes widened. ‘Oh, Colin, you did not tell her-’

‘I was discreet,’ he said reassuringly.

‘Discreet? What does that mean?’ Penelope said, alarmed. ‘Colin, are you telling me that your mother knows that you and I…that we…of what we did?’

The last four words came out in a horrified whisper, and Colin laughed. She really was so adorable.

‘Pen, she had to understand the reason for why we needed such an early date!’ Colin said defensively.

‘Oh, Colin!’ Penelope exclaimed, and she covered her face with her hands, absolutely mortified.

Colin laughed again, unconcerned. ‘It’s fine, it happens all the time,’ he said airily. ‘I am fairly sure my own mother and father had to rush their wedding date for a similar reason, as did Daphne and Simon.’

‘Oh, but still. What will she think of me?’ Penelope said, horrified.

‘That you are a wicked seductress, obviously,’ Colin said with a shrug, and he smirked at her as she slapped his arm, trying desperately not to laugh herself. ‘Pen, she adores you, nothing will ever change that. And I suspect she’s just as eager as I am to see us settled. Speaking of which, I was thinking…if you wanted, you could maybe start bringing over some of your personal effects to our apartment in Bloomsbury. It will be nice to have it feel like ours by the time we move in properly after we are wed.’

‘Yes, that sounds like a good idea,’ Penelope said, smiling dazedly at the thought of their new home. ‘I shall speak to Rae about it tomorrow.’

Penelope’s cheeks then flushed at the memory of their visit to the apartment. It had been an afternoon of discovery, of crossing boundaries they had never dared to before, of exploring a whole other element of human nature that Penelope could never have even imagined. The mere thought of it sent a pleasant shiver down her spine.

‘I had a very nice time at the apartment the other day,’ she said, her smiling lips pressed together as she tried to keep her tone of voice casual.

Colin’s lips twitched, a satisfied look on his face, and he leaned in close to her. ‘As did I,’ he murmured into her ear, his voice deep, his eyes smouldering, his smile rather cheeky. ‘In fact, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.’

Penelope met his gaze, and they exchanged knowing grins, barely suppressing their giggles like two children sharing a delightful secret. The giddy disbelief that they had crossed from friendship into something far more intimate was still fresh, still intoxicating. It would undoubtedly take time to adjust to this new wonderful reality that they were lovers now, and each moment felt both thrilling and a little surreal.

As more guests approached them, drawn to the couple’s obvious happiness, Penelope found herself surrounded by a whirlwind of yet more congratulations and curious glances. But none of it mattered. Not the whispers, not the speculation. All that mattered was the man beside her, the one who couldn’t stop touching her, looking at her, and making her feel like the most cherished woman in the world. Colin and Penelope’s hands lingered together, fingers brushing against one another in a thrilling way that was both new and familiar, as they took it all in and realised that this night was simply the beginning of something extraordinary – a life they had always wanted but never dared to dream would come true.

Even though a few days had now passed since the carriage and Colin’s proposal and…well, certain activities on a certain chaise longue…Penelope was still rather stunned and struggling to process it all. It was all just so strange, for the boy she had always pined after to now be her fiancé, telling her how beautiful she looked…telling her that he loved her. Sometimes when he did that, she did not even know how to respond. It was as if she had lost control of her heartbeat, and that every time he did or said something to remind her that they were together, she felt a shock through every bone. She had never once thought that Colin would feel the same way towards her – yes, she had hoped for it, she had kidded herself into believing there were signs of it a year or two ago, but never had she considered that her dreams would become reality. And yet now, she got to call Colin Bridgerton hers, and that fact alone made her feel like she was seconds away from a heart attack. It was bewildering, and it still scared her that she would wake up any moment to find out none of this was real…but it was also so wonderful. So joyous.

She wondered how long she would be able to make that joy last.

‘God, I am exhausted, aren’t you?’ Colin said, once some other guests had walked away to leave them to it. ‘All this talking-’

‘Colin,’ Penelope reprimanded, giggling.

‘What? It’s tiring, is it not?’

‘Yes, but we should not exactly complain about it,’ Penelope said, raising her eyebrows at him and gesturing to the filled hall. ‘All of this is for us.’

‘Yes, that is very true,’ Colin said, smiling fondly. ‘Nevertheless, it is thirsty work. Would you care for some refreshments, Future Mrs. Bridgerton?’

‘I would indeed, Mr. Bridgerton,’ Penelope said playfully. ‘Thank you very much.’

‘I shall be back soon,’ Colin said, stroking her arm briefly.

Penelope beamed up at Colin giddily as he then drifted away towards the refreshments table.

She was so consumed gazing after him, still hardly daring to believe that such a wonderful man was truly hers, that she did not notice Eloise approach.

‘Either my brother is the most understanding person ever born, or you have not yet told him,’ Eloise said coldly, and Penelope’s breath hitched as she turned to face her.

‘I am waiting for the right time,’ Penelope said, her strained voice barely more than a whisper, as she fixed Eloise with a desperate gaze, pleading with her to understand.

‘It does not concern only you,’ Eloise said, an urgent, even scared tone to her voice that made Penelope flinch back slightly. ‘This secret, this lie – with the Queen’s reward, it is bound to come out. And when it does, Colin will know I kept it from him as well.’

A tense pause fell between them. Penelope had not even considered that. Once again, she had been too wrapped up in her blissful joy with Colin, wanting to extend their happy bubble for as long as possible before the truth about Whistledown destroyed it for good.

Penelope searched Eloise’s eyes desperately, an indignant frown on her face. She knew that it was unfair of her to ask Eloise to keep lying to her brother but really, why did Eloise have to bring this up tonight, during their engagement party? Couldn’t she allow her just one more day of contentment before it all came crashing down?

Alas, it seemed Eloise had no such intention.

‘If it proves too difficult for you to reveal the truth, I will be merciful and reveal it to him myself,’ Eloise said, her voice shaking ever so slightly, and she glanced over at the clock on the mantelpiece behind them. ‘You have until midnight.’

Penelope’s lips parted and her eyes widened in horror, but before she could protest or even beg, Eloise had marched away.

Penelope stared after her as she went, her breathing coming out unsteadily, her heart racing in her chest, the sound of her own blood pounding in her ears.

Not tonight. Please not tonight. Everything will be ruined.

She had only just got used to seeing Colin gaze at her with such love and adoration. She did not want that to be taken from her just yet, and especially not on the night celebrating their betrothal.

Colin tilted his head at Penelope as he came back over towards her with their drinks, slightly confused and wary; he had just seen Eloise scowl and storm away from Penelope before he had approached. Nevertheless, he tried to appear as if everything was normal, and he gave her a tentative smile as Penelope turned around to face him. 

‘Your refreshment,’ he said, his tone as light as ever as he handed her a glass of lemonade.

Penelope took the glass from him, barely registering the coolness of the glass he pressed into her hand, and kept her gaze fixed down. If she looked into those eyes that she loved so dearly, he would see everything – her guilt, her fear, her anguish. The terrible secrets she had kept for so long, secrets that had woven a tangled web around them both, were now on the brink of unravelling. How could she look into those kind, trusting eyes of his and know that she had betrayed him in the worst possible way?

Colin’s smile faded as he watched the way Penelope’s face had fallen, as if the weight of the world had settled upon her shoulders. He didn’t understand. Only moments ago, she had been the picture of joy, her laughter light and carefree, her cheeks flushed with the giddiness of their engagement. But now, she seemed a shadow of herself, her expression taut, her eyes distant. What could have possibly happened while he had gone to fetch them drinks?

‘Is everything all right?’ he asked, concerned.

Forcing herself to meet his gaze, Penelope mustered a smile, a brittle thing that felt wrong on her face, and nodded.

But Colin was no fool.  He did not miss the way she gulped, or the way her nervous smile immediately disappeared as she turned to face the mantelpiece.

Penelope began to breathe shakily. The clock on the mantle showed that it was already several minutes past eight, its hands creeping ever closer to midnight.

Less than four hours until everything is ruined.

She could feel the bile rising in her throat, the nausea of impending disaster making her dizzy.

With a trembling hand, Penelope brought her glass of lemonade up to her lips and took a large sip in a futile attempt to calm herself. But the cool liquid did nothing to quell the storm inside her.

Colin’s concern only deepened as he watched her. Something was wrong – terribly wrong. The joy that had lit up Penelope’s face earlier was now extinguished, replaced by a shadow he couldn’t understand. What had Eloise said in the one minute he had left Penelope’s side?!

Penelope’s thoughts continued to spiral as she stared into the distance and considered her options, none of them good. She could come clean right now this very moment, confess everything, and hope that Colin’s love for her would be enough to withstand the betrayal. Or she could stay silent, pray that Eloise’s threat was an idle one, and live with the ever-present fear of discovery. But could she truly do that to Colin? Could she live with herself knowing that she had deceived him so completely?

Whatever happened when the truth finally came to light, one thing was certain – after tonight, nothing would ever be the same again.

Chapter Text

The evening was in full swing, a glittering gathering of London’s finest to celebrate the ton’s most recent betrothal. Soft strains of a string quartet floated through the air, and the Bridgerton House foyer buzzed with the hum of animated conversation, laughter, and the clinking of crystal glasses.

And yet Penelope was barely present for any of it.

She couldn’t take her eyes off the clock on the mantelpiece, which loomed like a noose tightening around her neck, each relentless tick slicing away the seconds until midnight – until her entire world would come crashing down. Eloise’s words echoed in her mind, and the weight of Lady Whistledown’s quill, once a source of pride, now felt like an anchor dragging her into a sea of despair.

She then heard Colin’s voice penetrating her hearing.

‘Pen, are you sure you are well?’

Colin wasn’t sure if he was more concerned or just outright confused. He didn’t know what had happened to cause this sudden shift in Penelope’s mood, but he knew one thing for certain – he would do anything to make it right. He reached out to take her hand, squeezing it gently as he vowed silently to himself that whatever it was, whatever had her so frightened, he would fix it.

Penelope swallowed as she turned back to Colin. ‘Nothing, just…feeling a little over-excited, that is all,’ she said, laughing nervously and glancing around the hall to avoid his gaze. ‘This is all so much. The fact that it’s all for us is just…’

‘Do you not like it?’ Colin said at once, and he caressed her thumb with his own. ‘We can always move somewhere quieter. We would need a chaperone, unfortunately, but-’

‘No. I love it,’ Penelope said, grateful to know that at least that wasn’t a lie, and she squeezed both his hands firmly as she gazed up at him. ‘It…it means so much to me. The effort your mother and the Viscountess – I mean, K-Kate – must have gone to in arranging this at such short notice…’

Colin smiled warmly. ‘They were very glad to do it. They are so happy you are joining our family.’

Penelope could feel the tears threatening to spill, but she blinked them away, refusing to let them fall. She had to be strong, for Colin’s sake, even as her world teetered on the brink of collapse.

‘As am I,’ she said softly. ‘So very happy.’

There was then a light little chime from the corner of the hall; the clock had just struck half past eight. Penelope’s grip on her glass tightened as she felt the sands of time slipping further away from her.

Clusters of guests continued to mingle with their champagne as they drifted from one delightfully adorned table to another, indulging in delicate pastries, succulent fruits, and an assortment of fine cheeses. The centrepiece of the evening was a towering cake, each layer more decadent than the last, much to Colin’s undisguised delight. He had already sampled two slices and was eyeing a third, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

Penelope stood beside him amidst the crowd, her hands trembling ever so slightly as she picked at a dainty strawberry tart, her gaze flickering anxiously between the clock on the mantle and the sea of guests. The clock ticked on louder with each passing second, merciless and unyielding, the sound drilling into her mind like a relentless metronome. The very thought of Eloise’s ultimatum made Penelope’s stomach churn, though whether from fear or guilt, she could not tell. Colin’s laughter rang through the hall, carefree and full of joy, as he spoke to their friends and family. She knew that time was running out to tell him her secret, but the courage to confess seemed to elude her entirely.

In between his merry mingling, Colin found himself intercepted by his mother, who handed him a sealed letter with a smile.

‘This just arrived for you, dearest,’ Violet said with a fond smile.

Colin’s brow furrowed briefly as he opened the letter, but then his expression softened, and his eyes lit up with pleasant surprise.

‘It’s from Sir Phillip Crane,’ he explained to Penelope, who was standing beside him, her thoughts elsewhere. ‘He and Marina send their best wishes. Perhaps I should invite them to visit us sometime soon.’

He had become rather good friends with Sir Phillip, much to his own astonishment, and they had struck up regular correspondence since they had first met at Romney Hall the previous season.

Penelope forced a smile and nodded absently, her mind too preoccupied to fully absorb Colin’s words.

Will and Alice Mondrich then approached, cutting through her reverie, and Penelope forced herself to focus.

‘Congratulations, both of you!’ Will greeted warmly.

‘Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Mondrich,’ Penelope said, trying to smile.

‘You have done well, Bridgerton,’ Will said, clapping Colin on the back, while Mrs. Mondrich’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

‘You must be quite the teacher, Mr. Bridgerton, to have helped Miss Featherington find such a good match,’ she said teasingly, giving him a knowing look; Colin knew that she had clocked his feelings for Penelope what seemed like a lifetime ago at the Stowell’s soirée.

Colin laughed, a warm, rich sound that usually made Penelope’s heart swell with affection. But tonight, it only tightened the knot in her chest.

Colin slipped an arm around Penelope’s waist, pulling her closer. ‘I can hardly take the credit,’ he said, his eyes twinkling. ‘Penelope was an exemplary pupil.’

He laughed again heartily, but Penelope’s forced chuckle was strained, her thoughts a thousand miles away.

Across the room, Kate was clearly in her element as hostess; she glided through the hall, greeting each guest with a radiant smile and ensuring everyone had everything they needed. Anthony, blatantly enamoured as always, was stood not too far behind her, his adoration clear to everyone in attendance as he watched his wife with a soft smile. Their love was evident, a beacon of what could be – yet it made Penelope sad to witness, for it only reinforced to her how her own path to happiness felt increasingly perilous.

Benedict, with his customary crooked grin, sauntered over at one point, his arm looped casually through that of Lady Tilly Arnold, his newest ‘friend’.

‘There’s the soon-to-be Mrs. Bridgerton!’ he said gleefully, briefly releasing his hold of Lady Arnold. ‘I’m so happy for you, Penelope, truly. I always thought of you as practically one of us anyway. Welcome to the family.’

Penelope’s smile wavered slightly, but she managed to keep it in place. ‘Thank you, Mr. Br – Benedict,’ she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Benedict’s grin grew, and he then pulled Penelope into an affectionate hug that left her breathless. His joy was infectious, and for a fleeting moment, Penelope allowed herself to bask in it.

But even his irresistibly joyful energy could not break through the fog clouding Penelope’s mind, and as soon as he moved on, that all-too-brief warmth was quickly replaced by the cold dread of what she had to do.

Francesca then tentatively approached, a new friend – or rather, suitor – on her arm.

‘Colin, Penelope…I would like you to meet John Stirling, Earl of Kilmartin,’ she introduced, her voice soft but filled with quiet pride.

Penelope glanced up at Lord Kilmartin, a handsome man with short black hair and beautiful skin of a dark russet brown. He wore a shy smile, and an elegant tailcoat for the occasion.

‘It’s a pleasure to meet you,’ Penelope said, managing a smile, as Colin reached out to shake his hand.

Lord Kilmartin was rather reserved, his demeanour endearing in its shyness, much like Francesca herself. As they all exchanged pleasantries, Penelope couldn’t help noticing how well-suited he and Francesca seemed; they really made an adorable pair. It made her so pleased for Francesca, as she had always had a soft spot for her.

But even this brief moment of reprieve was not enough to calm her racing heart.

As the evening wore on, Penelope found it increasingly difficult to focus on anything going on around her. She could feel herself growing more distant, her heart pounding louder with every tick of the clock. She avoided Colin’s gaze, each of his attempts to engage with her met with a distracted smile or a hurried excuse. The festivities continued around them, a blur of faces and laughter, but Penelope was barely present, her mind consumed by the fear of what was to come. She kept searching for the right moment to pull Colin aside, to find the words to tell him the truth, but every time she steeled herself to do so, the sight of his joyful expression stopped her in her tracks. How could she shatter his happiness, especially now, with so many people around?

Colin, ever perceptive, was very much aware that something significant was troubling Penelope. His own heart sank with worry; was she having second thoughts? Was it all too much for her? Did she wish to call off the engagement? Or had Eloise tried to persuade her to end things when she had spoken to her earlier? He could see the fear in her eyes, the way she flinched every time she glanced at his sister, and he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and reassure her that he cared for her, that he was devoted to her and her happiness, that there was no problem they could not face together.

Alas, they were surrounded by people, with never a moment to themselves to have such a conversation. So, Colin resolved to cheer her up by other means.

‘Now,’ Colin said to her, clearing his throat, ‘if you do not mind, I believe everyone is now here, and there is something I would like to say.’

Penelope’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. ‘Wh-what?’ she said, shocked.

He tilted his head at her. ‘You will not object to your husband-to-be making a toast, will you?’ he said playfully.

Penelope blushed, then caught sight of Francesca and Lord Kilmartin beside them, who were both smiling encouragingly at her; she rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, very well,’ she said, trying not to feel so anxious.

Colin touched her arm briefly before taking a fork from the nearby table and tapping his glass loudly with it; the clinking noise rang out across the entire foyer.

‘Good evening, everyone,’ Colin said loudly, as the guests fell silent, and he gave Penelope a reassuring glance and smile before stepping out into the centre of the hall. ‘If you will allow me a few words.’

He handed off the fork to Eloise, stood at the side, who glared at him. All the guests approached to gather around Colin with expectant looks and kind smiles. Penelope felt incredibly nervous…and still in utter disbelief that this was truly happening.

Colin was about to make a speech at their betrothal party. How was this her real life right now?

Colin held his head high as he addressed the party guests. ‘Most people, when they fall off a horse, are counselled to get back on it again. I say – stay down, for in the mud, you may happen to be blessed with your future bride,’ he said, and there was a light chorus of laughter as he gestured Penelope and smiled warmly over at her. ‘It was my atrocious riding that led me to meet Miss Featherington.’

He paused for a moment as he heard a little ‘Aww’ from Lady Danbury over at the side. He was trying to be formal, but he couldn’t do it. To call the love of his life ‘Miss Featherington’ felt wrong and unnatural.

‘Pen,’ he corrected himself, nodding, ‘and I am so grateful to be here with her tonight.’

Penelope smiled at him, utterly dazed, and tried to keep her expression under control, for she knew that if she didn’t, she might very well start crying from the sheer joy of it all. For the briefest of moments, her woes and troubles were forgotten as she looked at her fiancé.

Of course, it was too good to last.

‘I look forward to our life together, to knowing each other fully,’ Colin continued, and Penelope’s smile faltered at once, her breathing becoming unsteady, ‘and to never taking a single day with you for granted.’

Violet exhaled loudly in contentment, and as Colin raised his glass in Penelope’s direction, everyone began to clap.

‘Congratulations.’

‘Hear, hear.’

‘Health and happiness.’

But Penelope barely heard them all; she could feel Eloise’s sceptical eyes on her.

‘To knowing each other fully,’ Colin had said.

He was practically thanking her for the privilege of spending the rest of his life with her, and proclaiming how excited he was about their marriage – in front of everyone. Penelope never could have thought that hearing her future husband, the love of her life, say such beautiful things could make her feel so truly terrible. She was consumed by the bitter taste of guilt and fear; deep down, she knew that Colin would never say such things if he knew the whole truth about her. And she knew she only had herself to blame for that.

The clapping, exclamations and congratulations from the guests continued. Colin smiled joyfully, but as he lowered his glass he looked over at Penelope and saw that her eyes were downcast, her smile suddenly non-existent, her head bobbing nervously. His brow furrowed; he had hoped that she would be just as happy as he was about the prospect of their future together, but evidently not. He didn’t understand. Why did she still look so sad, so worried? Had she had a change of heart?

There was then another loud ring of clinking and Penelope looked up, horrified to see that Eloise had tapped the fork against her own glass.

Please, no.

Eloise cleared her throat, a false smile on her face. ‘Congratulations to you both,’ she said, with a light chuckle. ‘Here is to truly knowing each other’ – she threw a pointed look at Penelope, who gazed back at her in dismay – ‘Completely. Before the clock runs out.’

Unable to help herself, Penelope glanced back at the clock on the mantel. It was now after half past nine. How had that happened? How was time moving so quickly?

She glanced back at Eloise, who seemed to only just be realising that her words had created a rather awkward, confused silence in the hall.

‘Hm. The clock of life, of course!’ Eloise continued, forcing a chuckle, as she raised her drink to her lips. ‘Ticks for us all. To your good health!’

Colin stared at his sister, utterly perplexed, as she took a large sip of her drink. Was she perhaps intoxicated? What was the matter with her? And what was he missing between her and Penelope? He had seen that look exchanged between them just now; he knew those words had been directed at Penelope – but what did they mean?

He felt a little put out; he didn’t want his speech to be ruined by his sister making sardonic remarks.

‘Thank you…Eloise,’ Colin said, rather stunned as he tried to think of how to respond to her bizarre little toast. ‘I...–’

But he was then interrupted by none other than Lady Featherington. ‘I should like to add how...proud I am…of my lovely daughter, Penelope.’

Violet chuckled, and Penelope tried to force a smile as well, as she wondered how painful her mother had found it to force out those words.

‘To the match of the season, and to the Featherington-Bridgerton family!’ Portia said enthusiastically, beaming at Violet.

Violet forced another laugh before taking a very large sip of her wine.

Colin stared at his future mother-in-law, baffled. Everyone was acting so very oddly tonight. What was going on?

Feeling a bit at a loss, he then turned to Kate and eyed her helplessly.

Kate jumped forwards at once. ‘Now, uh, perhaps some dessert and charades in the drawing room,’ she rang out to everyone loudly.

Everyone seemed delighted by this suggestion. The guests all slowly began to follow Kate and Anthony as they took the lead upstairs to the Bridgerton drawing room. Eloise brushed past Colin, giving him a contemptuous look, but Colin barely noticed; he was too preoccupied regarding his sombre bride-to-be.

While everyone around her moved on to join the rest of the party upstairs, Penelope appeared to have frozen, and she looked utterly crestfallen. She seemed fragile, as if she might break at the slightest touch. Colin’s mind raced, trying to pinpoint what could have possibly caused such a sudden change. The house was filled with their friends and family, all gathered to celebrate their engagement, yet Penelope looked as though she were facing a firing squad. What had happened? What could have possibly shaken her so?

Colin knew that he ought to insist she tell him what was wrong, for something was very clearly bothering her. But he did not want to burst their bubble just yet. If she was having doubts, then he wanted to wait until tomorrow to find out. For now, he just wanted to enjoy their engagement party as much as he could and cling on to this feeling of joy and euphoria. He knew it was selfish of him, and he felt bad for it, but he wasn’t sure if he could cope with the alternative – not tonight.

He walked up to Penelope, whose chest was heaving as she stared off into the distance, and held out his arm. ‘Shall we?’ he said.

Penelope looked up at him, gulped, and forced a nod. ‘Of course,’ she said, smiling up at him as she linked his arm.

They followed the stream of guests upstairs with slightly faltering steps. Colin tried to make conversation with her as they went, but Penelope found it hard to engage apart from the odd short remark and forced laughter. He noticed that her grip on his arm became tighter and tighter as they climbed the stairs, as if she was desperate to cling onto him.

Penelope’s fingers trembled as she nervously toyed with her glove, her mind spinning with the words she had yet to say. Her identity as Lady Whistledown was a ticking time bomb, and once the truth was out, there would be no going back. Would Colin still look at her with such affection when he learnt the truth?

She knew then that it was no use. As much as she was dreading this moment, she couldn’t wait any longer.

With a sudden burst of courage, she reached out and squeezed Colin’s arm. ‘Colin, might I have a word?’ she asked, trying to breathe calmly.

His blue eyes softened when they met hers, and he nodded, allowing her to guide him away from the curious eyes and prying ears of their guests. Her breath came in shallow gasps as she led him into a small, dimly lit room just off the main hallway. The door clicked shut behind them, and the muffled sounds of the soirée faded, leaving them in a cocoon of stillness. Penelope’s heart was pounding in her ears as she gathered the courage to tell him everything.

Colin turned to her, concern creasing his brow. ‘Pen, what is it? Are you unwell?’ he asked.

She shook her head, but as she opened her mouth to speak, the words caught in her throat. Her fingers trembled as they reached up to trace the lines of his waistcoat. Without thinking, without planning it, she then stretched up on her tiptoes, grasped the front of his jacket, and kissed him with a desperation that startled them both.

Colin was stunned, his body tensing in surprise, but she didn’t stop – no, she couldn’t stop – and he melted into the kiss, his arms wrapping around her waist as if to anchor them both to the moment.

‘Pen, what-?’ he began, pulling back slightly, his brow furrowed in confusion.

‘Just…kiss me. Please,’ she whispered, her voice cracking.

Colin hesitated only for a moment before he surrendered, and he captured her lips again, this time with an intensity that sent a shiver through her entire body. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened and grew more fervent, and the world outside the room ceased to exist. They stumbled backwards, collapsing onto a plush armchair, and Colin pulled Penelope onto his lap. Their breaths mingled, ragged and uneven, as Penelope’s hands roamed through his hair, over his shoulders, down his chest, trying to touch every part of him at once, as if desperate to memorise the feel of him before everything changed.

Colin responded in kind, his lips tracing the curve of her throat and the delicate line of her collarbone, his hands exploring the contours of her body with an urgency that mirrored her own. When she moved his hand to the bodice of her dress, pressing it against her breast and urging him to touch her, he did so with a reverence that made her ache inside. She moaned and arched against him, wanting to lose herself in him, in this moment, because she knew it might be the last time she would ever be this close to him and feel his touch.

Finally, they broke apart, their chests heaving as they gasped for air.

Colin’s eyes were dazed, his lips swollen from their kiss. ‘Penelope…’ he murmured, dazed, his eyes searching hers for answers.

Penelope swallowed hard, forcing herself to meet his gaze. ‘Forgive me,’ she said, her voice trembling, ‘I just…I have missed you.’

Colin’s expression softened as he brushed a lock of hair from her flushed face. ‘I have missed you too. But…I think we might have to return to the party,’ he said, smiling as his gaze fell to her lips. ‘As much as I would prefer to stay here with you.’

Reluctantly, Penelope nodded, her heart sinking even as her pulse still raced from their heated exchange. She knew he was right, but she wished that they could remain in this stolen moment just a little longer. The thought of what she needed to do, looming like a storm on the horizon, made her chest tighten with fear. But Colin didn’t seem to notice – or perhaps he was too kind to mention it.

Before they could rise from the chair, Colin leaned in to kiss her one last time. When they finally pulled apart, Penelope felt as though a piece of her soul had been left behind.

Then, with a sigh and a gentle squeeze of her hand, Colin led her out of the room.

Penelope forced herself to smile as they prepared to re-join their guests, but inside her mind, the countdown to midnight continued, each second bringing her closer to the moment when everything she had tried to protect would shatter.

To say that Penelope was terrified was a monumental understatement.

If she revealed to Colin that she was Lady Whistledown and had been lying to him all this time, tonight of all nights when they were supposed to be celebrating their future together…it would not just devastate him, it could break him completely. She could not bear the thought. She did not want to do it, and yet Eloise was giving her no choice. The hours were ticking by, and by the end of the night, Colin would know the dreadful truth one way or the other.

Tomorrow was not promised to anyone, least of all those who kept secrets from their loved ones. In the blink of an eye, she could lose Colin. He could find out her secret identity, break off the engagement as he had every right to do, and disappear from her side. And then she would be all alone, again, with only herself to blame.

So, she had no choice but to make the most of these last few hours. To not take him for granted for one single second that passed for the rest of this party, to hold his hand and kiss him without regret…and without letting him sense at all that she was preparing to say goodbye.

Chapter Text

As soon as Colin and Penelope entered the drawing room, they were swept into the centre of a lively game of charades taking place with some of the guests gathered around the blazing fireplace. Charades was a favourite pastime among their set, and normally, Penelope might have enjoyed the game, for she was in dire need of a distraction, and she often liked to engross herself in such playful competitions. But tonight was different. Tonight…everything felt wrong. So very wrong.

Seated closely beside Penelope on the settee, Colin kept his hand wrapped around hers, his thumb tracing soothing circles on her skin. She could feel his eyes on her, his gaze warm and reassuring, yet she dared not meet it. If she looked at him, truly looked at him, she knew the flood of emotions would be too much to bear. The love she felt for him was overwhelming, and the fear of losing him – of how he might react when he learnt the truth – threatened to crush her. So, she focused instead on the game, forcing herself to smile and play her part, while inside she slowly unravelled.

The game of charades unfolded with the usual mix of mirth and friendly competition, and, as usual, Eloise’s sharp tongue and brilliant mind sliced through the competition with ease, much to Anthony’s irritation. Penelope matched her word for word, but there was no joy in their battle of intellect tonight. Every biting remark from Eloise seemed to carry an edge, a pointed reminder of the chasm that lay between them. Not even Colin’s tender gaze and reassuring hand holding hers as they sat together could comfort Penelope. She wanted to tell him, to unburden herself of the secret that had become too heavy to carry alone, but how could she? How could she do it?

Colin, for his part, could only watch quietly as the evening progressed, lost in his own thoughts.

At first, he was rapt as he gazed at Penelope adoringly and cast his mind back to their embrace on the chair earlier…and their time together on the chaise longue in their new apartment the other day. But then the game had begun, and he found himself utterly captivated by Penelope’s sharp intellect during charades, the way she outmanoeuvred Eloise with a clever turn of phrase or an insightful guess. She was outwitting everyone in the game with her quick mind, including him, and while he couldn’t help but admire her for it, there was a part of him that felt…inadequate. She was so brilliant, and he was just, well, him. What if Penelope had realised that he was falling short, and that was why she appeared so troubled this evening?

Still, Colin kept his hand in hers, sensing her unease; there was a tension in Penelope that only seemed to be growing worse as time went on. Her smiles were strained, her breathing was heavy, her eyes were darting everywhere but to him, and there was deep anguish and dread in her expression. She clung to his hand as though it were a lifeline, her grip tight, almost desperate. Yet, despite their physical closeness, there was a distance between them that he could not bridge. They were together, yet apart, each silently enduring their own private torment.

It was meant to be a night of celebration, yet for Colin and Penelope, the night felt anything but joyous now.

Every tick of the clock seemed to echo louder in Penelope’s ears, a relentless reminder that midnight was drawing near. The room now felt oppressive and seemed to grow colder, the laughter around them a stark contrast to the turmoil within. Penelope knew that she could not delay the truth for much longer, but the choice before her felt impossible: reveal her secret and risk losing Colin forever, or stay silent and betray the very trust that bound them together.

What was she to do?

It felt like Penelope blinked and then a second later a whole hour had gone by. She wasn’t at all surprised; in her experience, it seemed that, when one was dreading something, time always seemed to have an infuriating habit of speeding up. Each second was pulling her closer to the moment of reckoning…to the end of everything she held dear.

 Penelope could feel the walls closing in around her, making it hard to breathe. She was only vaguely aware of Benedict then stepping to the front to take his turn in the game, and he read from the charades book:

‘“My first is nothing but a name. My second’s still more small. My whole of so much smaller fame, it has no name at all.”’

Penelope wanted to try and concentrate on the riddle, but her mind was too occupied with the fear that she might vomit on the floor in front of everyone. Her hand was jiggling agitatedly, and she was too late in noticing that Colin was watching her; she forced a nervous, awkward smile that was more like a grimace in his direction.

Colin’s concerned frown deepened as she avoided his gaze. He had known earlier that Penelope was anxious, perhaps even uncomfortable, but it was clear now that it was so much more than that. Something was deeply troubling her. Colin could feel her fear, her suffering. He didn’t understand. Why did she seem so distant on what should have been the happiest night of their lives? She was keeping something from him, something that clearly pained her deeply, and that hurt more than anything. What could be so terrible that she couldn’t share it with him, her best friend, her own fiancé? The woman he loved was slipping away from him, and he had no idea how to stop it. All he knew was that he had to hold on to her, no matter what storm was coming, and silently endure his concern and disappointment.

He gulped as he turned back to try and focus on the game.

‘How about...“nameless”?’ Benedict’s friend, Lady Arnold, suggested.

Benedict groaned. ‘Aw...Well, yes,’ he said, irritated, and she laughed.

‘Something Lady Whistledown will not be for much longer,’ Colin interjected from the settee.

Everyone assembled chuckled at his comment, all of them utterly oblivious to Penelope’s turmoil as she sat there and tried desperately to control her breathing while clasping her hands tightly together on her lap.

Her face falling as she took in everyone’s gleeful reactions, Penelope then turned to glance at the clock on the mantel, and her stomach plummeted. The short hand on the clock was past the number ‘eleven’. How could Eloise’s deadline be already almost here?

‘The Queen has certainly made sure of that,’ Portia said, amused.

‘Well, I think she is actually-’

But Penelope interrupted Cressida in a strained voice. ‘Who would pursue a matter as trivial as Lady Whistledown’s identity? It all feels...vulgar,’ she said, struggling to know what to do with her hands as the guests eyed her curiously.

‘I would argue Whistledown is the vulgar one,’ Benedict said, making Penelope’s heart sink even lower; she had never thought of herself as ‘vulgar’ before. ‘Though the ton can do with a little vulgarity.’

‘What I was trying to say-’

But Cressida was interrupted again, this time by Alice Mondrich. ‘If she is unmasked, it will spell ruin for her family,’ she said.

‘And certainly any hope of marriage,’ Colin added.

Penelope turned sharply to look at Colin. Was that really what he thought? Did he truly hate Whistledown so much that he would think her ruined in such a way?

Colin then got up from the settee to help himself to another drink from the cabinet; Penelope watched him go, shaken.

The ticking of that clock seemed to only be growing louder and louder. Midnight was almost upon them, and with it, the truth that would change everything. The room seemed to shrink around Penelope, the chatter of the guests fading into the background. She could feel her whole body beginning to tremble as she breathed out shakily and gazed upwards, as if praying to a higher being to save her from this mess.

Penelope glanced back at the clock; fewer than ten minutes now remained until midnight. How could that be?

Feeling like she might faint, Penelope turned to cast a wobbly look at Colin, stood by the cabinet behind the settee. His eyes were already on her, his brow furrowed.

He knows something is amiss, she realised. He knows.

She couldn’t cope anymore. Her head spinning, she rose from her seat.

‘Excuse me,’ she murmured, her voice shaking, and, with her hand pressed tightly against her stomach, she hastened away.

Colin watched, his heart thudding fearfully, as Penelope fled from the drawing room, and then took a large gulp of whiskey from the cabinet. He knew it was not strictly celebratory to be drinking alone at one’s own betrothal party, but he needed the extra liquor to get him through the rest of this night, especially with Penelope acting the way she was.

This is bad. This is very, very bad.

Finishing his drink, Colin then put down his glass and strode off after her, his jaw set. As much as he had been intending to be patient, carry on and pretend that everything was fine, he could no longer do it. Penelope was pulling away, and Colin could only conclude that he must be the cause of the problem; it was crucial he remedy that immediately. He couldn’t bear to see Penelope in such distress, not when tonight was meant to be about celebrating their love and future commitment to one another.

At the other side of the house, Penelope clutched her stomach as she lurched down the hallway. The walls of the grand house seemed to close in, suffocating her. Everything was spinning and blurring before her eyes. Her chest felt constricted, as if the corset she wore had been laced too tightly, but she knew it was not the fault of the garment. No – this was panic, raw and unrelenting, squeezing her lungs and making it impossible to breathe. She gasped unevenly, her unsteady steps taking her to the side, as if she were drunk.

She eventually found a dark, vacant room; she entered it and shut the door behind her with a large, desperate slam as she breathed heavily and clutched herself tightly, trying to calm herself. The quiet did nothing to soothe the storm raging within her; her heart was pounding like a war drum, each beat echoing louder in the small space. The room seemed to spin, the edges of her vision blurring as she clung to the door.

‘I would argue Whistledown is the vulgar one…’ … ‘If she is unmasked, it will spell ruin for her family…’ … ‘And certainly any hope of marriage…’

It was all there in black and white. If she told Colin the truth about Lady Whistledown, he would leave her. She could see it now: the disappointment in his eyes, the hurt, the betrayal. He would never forgive her, he would never understand why she had kept such a secret. And he would never want to marry her. He and his mother would no doubt concoct a way to end the engagement with as much grace and honour as possible, but there would be no escaping the scandal, and Penelope would be left to deal with the fallout alone. The ton would feast on the ruins of her reputation, and her family would be dragged down with her. The Featherington name, already precarious, would be completely and utterly ruined, and her mother, sisters and brothers-in-law would be completely shunned from society because of her folly. Penelope could barely keep herself from sinking to the floor.

What choice did she have? If she remained silent, then the betrayal would be twice as bitter, for Eloise would reveal the truth to Colin anyway. In less than ten minutes.

That was all she had. Less than ten minutes before her life and future happiness came crashing down.

Penelope leaned heavily against the door, her knuckles white and her fingers trembling as they clutched at the polished wood. Her breath came in shallow, rapid bursts, each one catching in her throat as if the very air was refusing to enter her lungs. The panic was rising, unstoppable, like a tide that threatened to drown her.

She wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready for her bliss to end, not now. Not when she had only just begun to believe in the possibility of love, of a future with Colin by her side. She wasn’t ready to face the fact that she would never know such joy again. She wasn’t ready to face Colin leaving her. She couldn’t do it. She just couldn’t.

Her breath hitched, and she began to gasp loudly and rapidly, each inhale sharp and painful as she rested against the door to keep herself steady. Her throat was closing, as if someone had wrapped a hand around her windpipe and was squeezing, tighter and tighter. She grasped at her neck, trying desperately to alleviate the pressure, but it was no use. The air refused to fill her lungs, no matter how hard she tried.

Penelope’s thoughts raced, disjointed and frantic, each one more terrifying than the last, the room shrinking as her fear grew. She wasn’t sure where she was anymore, or how she had got here. All she knew was that she needed to breathe and calm down, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t make her body listen. She couldn’t force herself to take the deep, calming breaths she so desperately needed. She exhaled loudly, breathlessly, and as her vision blurred a small whimper escaped her mouth, a pitiful sound that echoed in the empty room.

She scrunched her eyes tightly; she could feel the tears threatening to burst from her eyes, but she knew she couldn’t let them, for if she did then she would never be able to stop. Her chest heaved with the effort of trying to control her breathing, each breath a battle she feared she was losing. The edges of her vision darkened, and she felt herself swaying, the weight of her fear threatening to pull her under. She was trapped, lost in her own mind, with no way out.

Time was running out. Less than ten minutes. Less than ten minutes before her life was destroyed. But she couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but gasp for air in this room that was supposed to be her sanctuary. Her bliss, her joy, her dreams of a future with Colin – all of it would be gone, shattered by a truth she had kept hidden for far too long.

The panic gripped her like a vice, squeezing tighter and tighter until it felt as though she would shatter under the pressure. Penelope knew that the only thing she could do was wait for it to pass, hoping against hope that it would, and that she would survive it.

Merely a few feet away outside the room, Colin was walking along down the corridor with a frown as he searched in vain for Penelope, feeling more and more stressed with each step he took.

Where could she have possibly got to? Why had she left the room in such a hurry? Had she run away entirely? Should he push the issue, or give her space? What was going on?

And then he heard it: a loud, breathless gasp of despair coming from behind the closed door of the dining room.

Colin’s face fell.

His lips parted and his frown deepened; she did not sound as if she was sobbing…more that she was panicking. Reconsidering. Regretting.

There was only one reason why Penelope would not be enjoying herself during such an occasion, and Colin had been in denial for hours, reluctant to accept anything of the sort, but now he could ignore his suspicions no longer.

She no longer wanted this.

There could be no other explanation. Penelope had changed her mind about the betrothal, and did not know how to free herself of this situation now that the Whistledown issue and tonight’s engagement party had more or less set it in stone.

Colin looked up, his lips pressing together and his jaw setting. This was all his fault. He had pushed her too far and too quickly. He should never have compromised her in the carriage, it was not fair on her; she had most likely felt pressured and like she had no choice but to say yes to his proposal after what had happened.

How could he have done this to her? All he wanted was to make Penelope happy…and all he had achieved tonight was make her more distressed than any bride should be.

His eyes welling up, his hands twitching agitatedly, Colin then turned and strode away back to the drawing room, furious with himself. He knew that Penelope would not want to be disturbed, not when she had escaped to find a place of refuge to be alone so that she could calm down, and he had to respect that. All that was left for him to do now was think of a way to call off their engagement, if that was what she so wished, in a way that would do the least harm to Penelope. It was the only way to ease her burden, and, in the end, all Colin wanted was for Penelope to be happy…no matter what it did to him.

***

Penelope wasn’t sure when or how it had happened, but at some point she had slid down to the floor, and remained there for what felt like an eternity, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees as if holding herself together by sheer force of will. She had buried her face in her skirts, the fabric muffling the sound of her ragged breathing. She felt utterly drained, but she knew she couldn’t stay here in this room any longer. She had to return, to face the inevitable.

With a deep breath that still felt too shallow, Penelope slowly uncurled herself from the floor. She braced her hand against the wall, using it to steady her shaking legs as she stood. Her head spun for a moment, the room tilting as she fought to regain her balance, but she forced herself to take a step, and then another, until she was finally upright.

She knew what she had to do. The resolve that had been buried beneath layers of fear and despair began to surface, fragile but unyielding. Midnight was upon her, and there was no more time to hide. If Colin was to learn the truth, it had to come from her – not from her former friend’s well-meaning but unforgiving mouth. But the thought of telling him, of watching the light in his eyes dim as he realised who she truly was, nearly sent her spiralling again.

With a shaky breath, Penelope reached for the door handle and reluctantly opened it. The hallway beyond was dimly lit, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows that seemed to stretch and waver as she stepped into the corridor. Her face was still wet with tears as she began her slow, reluctant walk, her mouth hung slightly open, her breath coming in shallow bursts, one hand clutching her belly. Each step felt heavy, as if the weight of her secret had seeped into her very bones, dragging her down.

It was all too much. But Eloise had made her conditions clear, and there was no turning back now. Midnight was only seconds away, and Penelope knew that this was the end. Penelope’s only hope, her only solace, was that Colin would hear the truth from her lips, and that he would see the remorse in her eyes and understand – though she knew it was too much to ask for his forgiveness. The thought of his reaction – of the hurt, the anger, the betrayal that would surely follow – made her stomach twist with dread. Yet there was no other choice. She had kept her secret for too long, and now the time had come to face the consequences.

As she walked, the memories of Colin’s kisses and touches played in her mind, each one a sharp, crushing reminder of what she was about to lose. Before, when Colin had been nothing more than a distant dream, an impossible hope, the thought of living without him had been easier. She had resigned herself to the idea of loving him from afar, of never knowing the warmth of his embrace. But now, after tasting his lips, after feeling his desire and love, after feeling whole in his arms, the prospect of losing him was unbearable. It was going to break her in a way that she knew she could never recover from; she knew that with a certainty that chilled her to the bone.

Penelope moved as though in a trance, her feet carrying her forwards even as her heart screamed for her to turn back, to find some way to avoid the inevitable.

Her lip quivered as she slowly turned the corner into the drawing room, her heart hammering in her chest, her mind racing with the enormity of what she was about to do. Whatever happened next, there would be no going back.

She could hear her mother, Lord Anderson and the Mondriches still gossiping about Lady Whistledown over by the fireplace.

‘But can you imagine living with that secret all this time?’ Mrs. Mondrich was saying. ‘It must burn away at her.’

‘Terrible, living a double life like that,’ Portia said, almost sympathetically.

‘I could not keep that secret for more than an hour,’ Mr. Mondrich said, and they all chuckled.

‘Nor I, surely,’ Lord Anderson interjected.

Penelope returned to the party, filled with dread, and glanced over at them all. She felt like she might be sick at any moment. And then her eyes fell over to the clock on the mantel: it was one minute to midnight.

Breathing deeply, Penelope walked in a daze into the centre of the room; Colin, who had been sat on a settee anxiously waiting for her, spotted her immediately and hurried towards her.

‘Pen. Where did you run off to?’ he asked. ‘I was looking for you.’

‘I...I only needed a moment,’ Penelope replied in a strained voice as she tried to control her expression, but she knew it was no good; she could tell from the stern-like frown of concern on Colin’s face that he was not buying her excuses.

‘I know something is bothering you,’ he said softly, raising his eyebrows at her, and Penelope glanced desperately over towards Eloise, who was sat with the others looking agitated while the clock ticked away loudly nearby. ‘I can feel it. All evening, you have been shirking my gaze.’

And then with a clank the clock struck twelve.

Midnight.

Her time was up.

Penelope turned back to Colin, his words only just catching up with her. ‘No, Colin...’

She almost choked out the words, her face scrunching up as the tears began to build in her eyes. She could not bear this. She could not bear how sad and confused her behaviour had clearly made him tonight, and she could not bear the thought of what she was about to do. What she must do.

‘I would understand,’ Colin said earnestly, his voice shaking ever so slightly, ‘if you got swept up in the carriage. If y- if you do not now…share my feelings.’

It broke him to say it, but he couldn’t pretend any longer. He couldn’t continue to put Penelope through this torment; it was destroying him to see her in such a state and he had to put an end to it however he could, even if it meant breaking his own heart in doing so.

Penelope began to shake her head in desperation. ‘Colin...’ she said breathlessly, and when she next spoke she sounded as if she was on the brink of bursting into sobs. ‘I need to tell you something.’

As Colin gazed into her eyes, he saw something that chilled him to the bone – a fear so deep, so consuming, that it shook him to his core. And in that moment, Colin realised that whatever was wrong, it was something far more serious than he had imagined.

Colin looked at her in alarm; she was gasping for breath. He bent down so that he was on her eye level at once.

‘Pen,’ he said in concern, holding her arms. ‘Pen. Are you well?’

It was then when Penelope realised that she was not well, not at all well. Once again, she could barely manage to get air into her lungs. She began to whimper and shake her head in anguish, clutching onto him for dear life, for she knew it would be the last time she would be able to hold him. She barely even noticed Eloise approach them, a hard look on her face.

‘Colin,’ Eloise said in a low, solemn voice. ‘I need to tell-’

But Colin cut over her at once. ‘Eloise, please have a servant fetch a cool towel,’ he said urgently, holding onto Penelope tightly as she continued to lose her composure.

Eloise reluctantly obeyed, and as she walked away Penelope began to weep.

‘Pen,’ Colin murmured anxiously, his voice soft, his touch gentle as he held her; he hated to see her like this. ‘It is all right. Whatever it is, if you wish to delay things or break off the engagement or…’

‘N-no, no,’ Penelope said desperately – it was crucial he understood. ‘I do not wish that at all…that is not…that is not…’

Colin frowned, perplexed. ‘Th-then what is the matter?’ he asked, his concern heightening with every second that passed.

But Penelope only continued to lose her composure, her gasps turning into sobs as she leaned on him.

She sagged, resting her head against Colin’s arm. Colin glanced around anxiously, but none of the surrounding guests seemed to have noticed that his fiancé was having an attack of the nerves at this very moment.

‘Uh, excuse us, everyone,’ Anthony’s voice then rang out, addressing the entire room.

But before he could continue, Cressida Cowper got to her feet from the other end of the room and called out commandingly to the guests, irritating Colin greatly.

‘I have an announcement,’ she said loudly, and even Penelope was so stunned that she momentarily forgot what was troubling her so severely. ‘It is time that I put an end to the speculation. You would like to know who Lady Whistledown is? You shall know.’

Penelope frowned and stared at Cressida in horror, her parted lips trembling. Surely not. Surely Eloise had not revealed her secret to Cressida Cowper, of all people?!

She could not let Colin find out this way, not from her.

But Penelope was in too much of a wretched state to say or do anything to prevent Cressida from speaking. So, instead, all she could do was watch hopelessly as Cressida announced proudly:

‘I am she.’

There was a loud chorus of stunned exclamations and gasps from everyone in the room.

Penelope’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets as she continued to stare at Cressida, her chest heaving.

‘Miss Cowper,’ Portia said with a sceptical chuckle, ‘surely you jest.’

Cressida tilted her head at her. ‘I jest not. I am Lady Whistledown. And you are right. I can do whatever I want,’ she said with a self-satisfied smile.

Colin was utterly shocked. As the room erupted with chatter at this unexpected announcement, his eyes fell on Eloise, who was stood by the doorway looking at Penelope in horror.

Penelope felt a sudden chill grip her heart as she tried to process what Cressida had just done. Cressida Cowper – the one who had always mocked and bullied her, the one who had taken every opportunity to humiliate her relentlessly – was now claiming Penelope’s achievements, the one thing she could call her own, as her own work in front of everyone? The injustice of it all pierced her like a dagger.

It was too much. It was all just too much.

She swayed sightly, her vision blurring as she clutched Colin’s arm for support and whimpered. ‘Colin...I cannot breathe,’ she gasped, her chest heaving as she struggled for air.

Penelope’s breath came in shallow, ragged gasps as the world around her began to dissolve into a haze of indistinct shapes and murmured voices. The elegant drawing room spun around her and dimmed as if someone had drawn a heavy curtain across the scene. The shocked gasps and chatter of voices seemed miles away, muffled and distorted by the roar of panic that surged through her veins. She felt Colin’s strong arms beneath her trembling fingers, but even his warmth couldn’t reach the icy fear that was crushing her.

Cressida’s smug smile was the last thing Penelope saw in her mind, sharp and cruel, before her knees buckled.

And then, mercifully, everything went black.

Chapter Text

Before Colin could say anything to calm her, Penelope’s eyes rolled back, her knees buckled, and she began to swoon.

Alarmed, Colin tightened his grip on her as she fainted and, with his strong arms, he gently lowered her to the floor, his arm supporting her head. He couldn’t understand it. What was happening? What was wrong with his beloved Pen?

More gasps and exclamations erupted from the guests as they stared at Penelope’s collapsed figure on the floor and crowded around, their festive mood quickly turning to that of concern as they fretted and fussed.

Violet, her eyes wide with worry, pushed through the gathering throng. ‘Mrs. Wilson!’ she called out urgently, and Kate immediately followed to help her.

Other guests crowded around Colin and Penelope, their concerned faces forming a tight circle. Colin clutched Penelope’s hand tightly, his gaze wide and desperate, but she was barely stirring. He felt in a state of shock.

Anthony, ever the responsible eldest brother, immediately sprang into action. ‘I’ll get some water,’ he said, and he swiftly made his way towards the refreshment table.

Eloise knelt down beside her former friend, looking anguished. ‘Give her some air,’ she bit at the onlookers, before touching Penelope’s arm; clearly, the effort of pretending to hate Penelope was too much bother to keep up with at present.

‘Pen!’ Colin said fearfully, his eyes suddenly feeling rather wet as he gazed worriedly down at his unconscious bride-to-be.

Lady Featherington, her composure wavering, pressed her hand to Penelope’s forehead and cheek to check her temperature while keeping her other hand wrapped firmly in Penelope’s. Colin wasn’t sure if he had ever seen Lady Featherington act in such a way towards any of her daughters; physical affection was not one of their strong suits, from what he had gathered. It made his bitter regard towards her lessen somewhat, even if just for tonight.

Excitable chatter continued all around them, as if people were quite enjoying the drama.

‘Penelope, wake up,’ Colin murmured, his voice breaking, and he cradled her head in his lap, brushing a stray curl from her pale forehead.

‘Penelope, my dear,’ Lady Featherington murmured, her own breath hitching with fear; the sight of Penelope’s usually composed and emotionally-stilted mother so distraught only heightened the tension in the room.

 Colin, his face ashen and etched with worry, then scooped Penelope up into his arms and carried her over to the settee, while others watched and gasped.

‘Bring some cool water and cloths,’ Violet instructed a nearby servant, as she and Eloise hovered close by anxiously. ‘We must cool her down.’

Lady Featherington, looking rather pale, watched as Colin gently placed Penelope on the settee. ‘Give her some space, for heaven’s sake!’ she snapped, fanning her daughter frantically while others tried to maintain some semblance of order.

Eloise stood back, biting her lip, her usual sharpness somewhat softened. ‘Will she be all right?’ she asked, her attempt at a casual tone of voice failing to conceal her concern.

Colin turned back to her and met her panic-stricken gaze; it was a relief to see that the love Eloise had for Penelope could not be dismissed as easily as she perhaps would have liked, regardless of the public displays she had made to the contrary. There was something else in her expression other than fear and concern, though; she looked almost guilty, as if she herself was to blame for Penelope swooning.

The seconds stretched into what felt like hours, the tension in the room palpable as everyone waited for Penelope to regain consciousness. Colin could hear Anthony debating with Kate on whether they ought to call for a doctor. He was also vaguely aware of Francesca kneeling beside him to lay a cool cloth on Penelope’s forehead while Lady Featherington paced anxiously, clearly at a loss with how to react or cope. At one point, Hyacinth and Gregory came rushing in to find out what had happened, and Hyacinth half-sobbed in horror when she saw Penelope lying there on the settee; Colin flinched at the sound.

It was not long after when someone – Colin wasn’t sure who – said sharply, ‘I think you had better leave’, and within moments Cressida Cowper had swept bitterly from the drawing room; the moment she had gone, the room erupted with chatter about her astonishing revelation.

But Colin could not care less about Cressida Cowper or Lady Whistledown or any of it. All he cared about was his fiancé lying before him.

His hands were steady as he took over applying the wet compress to Penelope’s forehead, though his eyes betrayed his fear. ‘Pen, please wake up,’ he murmured, his voice breaking slightly.

‘She will be all right,’ Violet murmured in his ear, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

And then, as if Violet’s words had cast a magic spell, Penelope finally stirred, her eyelids fluttering open as she slowly regained consciousness. Her gaze was unfocused as she took in the worried faces surrounding her. She couldn’t remember what had happened; all she could recall was Cressida Cowper’s smirking face as she had declared herself to be Lady Whistledown, and then there was nothing.

She looked around, dazed and disoriented, and blinked as Colin’s hand found hers. The colour began to return to her cheeks, and a collective sigh of relief swept among the guests.

‘Pen. Oh, thank God,’ Colin murmured, leaning towards her. ‘Are you all right?’

‘I...I’m fine,’ she said weakly, trying to sit up.

Portia quickly intervened. ‘No, Penelope, you have taken ill. You must rest,’ she said firmly. ‘We must get you home immediately.’

‘But Mama, I-’ Penelope began, but her strength failed her.

Violet placed a reassuring hand on Penelope’s arm. ‘Penelope, dear, your mother is right, I do think it would be best if you rest at home,’ she said softly. ‘We can continue our celebration another time. Your health is the priority.’

Colin nodded and stood up, resolute. ‘Lady Featherington, if you do not mind, I will accompany you both home. I need to make sure Penelope is well.’

‘There is really no need, Mr. Bridgerton,’ Lady Featherington began, but the determination in Colin’s eyes silenced her objections. ‘V-very well, if that is what you would wish.’

‘It is.’

Eloise, who had been watching with a furrowed brow, then stepped forwards tentatively. ‘Penelope, are you sure you are well?’ she asked quietly.

Penelope looked up at her in surprise from the settee, and managed a weak smile. ‘I will be, Eloise. Th-thank you.’

Penelope gulped as she met Eloise’s gaze nervously, but she knew then from the look on Eloise’s face that she had been granted a reprieve – for now, at least. Clearly, Cressida’s shock announcement and Penelope’s subsequent collapse had thrown things somewhat, and Eloise didn’t know what to make of it. In truth, neither did Penelope.

As the guests murmured among themselves, speculating on tonight’s unexpected, dramatic turn of events, Colin and Benedict then carefully helped Penelope up to her feet.

‘Lean on me,’ Colin murmured, and Penelope nodded, grateful for his support.

She was incredibly embarrassed that she had fainted in front of everyone, but she supposed if she’d had to ruin their betrothal party, it was better that it had been this way rather than her breaking Colin’s heart by confessing her secret about Whistledown.

‘It is nothing to worry about, Penelope is well, she just needs rest,’ Portia said airily to the room at large, clearly not wanting everyone’s gawking eyes on Penelope. ‘It has been a most enchanting soirée, Lady Bridgerton – and Viscountess Bridgerton, of course. A very, err, eventful evening indeed.’

Violet smiled at her, her exasperation barely concealed, before she turned back to Penelope and reached a hand out to touch her arm. ‘Oh, my dear, I do hope you feel better soon,’ she said.

‘I am so sorry, Lady Bridgerton-’ Penelope said in a small, trembling voice, but Violet interrupted her at once with an earnest wide-eyed gaze and shake of her head.

‘No, no, no, you have absolutely nothing to apologise for. Nothing at all,’ she said firmly, and she chuckled as she squeezed Penelope’s hand. ‘No one can help falling ill! The most important thing is that you take care of yourself.’

Colin glanced at Lady Featherington; he could see her glancing back and forth between Penelope and Violet, as if a little perplexed, even flustered.

Was this her first experience of seeing how a mother ought to behave to one’s daughter, he wondered?

‘Y-yes. Quite,’ Lady Featherington said in a rather stilted voice, before wrapping her arm around Penelope rather pointedly. ‘A night of good sleep will do wonders, I am sure.’

It took a while for Colin and Portia to get Penelope away to leave the house, for the rest of the Bridgertons were insistent on checking that Penelope was well enough to leave at all. Kate seemed quite intent on Penelope staying overnight, and Hyacinth immediately leapt at the opportunity, offering her bedchamber as a place for Penelope to rest and recuperate.

But Portia would have none of it – and seemed rather alarmed by so much attention and affection towards her daughter – and so soon enough they were on their way.

They took one of the Bridgerton carriages, despite only needing to head across the square, for Penelope still appeared rather unsteady on her feet. Penelope sat beside Colin, her face pale and drawn beneath the dim light of the carriage lantern, Colin’s hand never leaving hers. His mind was still reeling from the events of this evening…in particular, how he had overheard Penelope gasping in despair when she had escaped the drawing room to hide…but he knew he had to try and put his concerns aside, at least for now.

Penelope sighed; she felt terrible. This night had been such a whirlwind. First Eloise’s ultimatum…then Cressida’s bizarre announcement…and then the fact that Penelope’s secret, her lie, still hung over her, still to be dealt with… She glanced to the side at Colin; he was caressing her hand softly, trying to comfort her, but no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t hide how downcast he was. It was all there in his expression.

‘I am so sorry, Colin,’ Penelope said, her voice rather weak and tired. ‘I did not mean to cause such a scene.’

Colin’s expression softened as he turned to her and shook his head. ‘Don’t be silly. Do you know what happened?’ he asked gently, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. ‘I only mean that, well…you were about to tell me something but then…Do you know why…did something cause you to…?’ He trailed off awkwardly, not quite sure how to voice what was on his mind.

‘I…I am not sure, I cannot remember,’ Penelope murmured, avoiding his gaze. ‘I must have caught something. A virus, perhaps. I have been feeling unwell most of this evening.’

Colin looked at her for a moment. ‘Yes,’ he said, swallowing. ‘I have noticed.’

Penelope’s lips parted as she gazed up at him in anguish.

I’ve hurt him, she realised.

She had hoped that her inner turmoil would have gone unnoticed during the party, but clearly nothing had been further from the truth. Colin had seen everything. She dreaded to think what thoughts could be running through his mind about why she had been acting so distressed during their celebration.

Portia seemed utterly oblivious to the couple’s anguish as she fussed over her daughter, tucking a blanket around her that Violet had insisted on giving them for the journey back. ‘Hush now, Penelope,’ she said. ‘All that matters is your health.’

Colin looked at her, and forced a nod. ‘Yes, that is all that matters,’ he said, clearing his throat, and he smiled at Penelope as he squeezed her hand. ‘We just need to get you home so you can recover.’

The journey back to Featherington Home was swift, yet to Colin, it felt interminable, every minute stretching into an eternity. His mind was consumed with the events of the evening, searching for some clue, some indication as to why Penelope had been so distressed.

Did she regret their betrothal? The thought wouldn’t leave him, no matter how hard he tried to push it aside; it was an insidious whisper that refused to be silenced. Had she been swept up in the excitement and whirlwind of it all, only to realise too late that it was not what she truly wanted? The idea that this had been the cause of Penelope’s anxiety all evening sent a chill through him. He couldn’t bear the idea of waking up tomorrow to find that she had changed her mind, that she no longer wanted to be his wife. The mere thought twisted his insides.

Colin leaned back against the seat, closing his eyes for a moment as he tried to calm the storm of emotions raging within him. He was hopelessly, madly, desperately in love with Penelope. He knew that with every fibre of his being, and he wished with all his heart that she felt even a shadow of the same. Sometimes, he was certain that she did – through the looks she gave him, the way her eyes would seek his across a crowded room, the way her hand would caress his as they sat together, the tender smile that would grace her lips when she thought no one else was watching. He remembered the way her body had responded to his when he had made love to her, how her face had transformed into that of a hungry goddess, how she had gripped him even tighter to her as if she wanted nothing more in the world than him.

And tonight, when she had fainted, the first word she had uttered upon waking was his name. It should have reassured him; it should have been enough to silence his doubts. It was a sign that she did care for him, after all. But there was still that small part of him that could not help but doubt.

The carriage soon came to a halt outside the Featherington’s residence, and Colin couldn’t help feeling disquieted as he and Lady Featherington helped Penelope out and approached the front door.

Once inside the house, they helped Penelope upstairs to her bedchamber. Colin steadied Penelope, her face pale but determined as she leaned heavily against him. Her grip on his arm was tight, as if she feared she might collapse entirely if she let go.

‘I am well, truly,’ Penelope said, though the strain in her voice betrayed her as she tried to reassure Colin.

The evening’s chaos still spun in her mind: Eloise’s almost-revelation about her identity as Lady Whistledown…the swift but unwelcome intervention of Cressida Cowper…What a nightmare this had become.

‘Nonsense,’ Portia said briskly, her tone of voice leaving no room for argument. ‘You need rest. And then you shall be better in the morning.’

Penelope nodded weakly, though the uncertainty in her eyes suggested that she wasn’t entirely convinced.

Colin shot Lady Featherington a glance, irritation simmering beneath his concern. He knew Penelope well enough to recognise that something more than mere fatigue had led to her fainting spell. But what had it been? Eloise? Cressida Cowper? Himself?

Together, Colin and Portia guided her up the rest of the grand staircase. When they finally reached her bedchamber, Rae, Penelope’s loyal maid, was already there, her face paling with alarm at the sight of her mistress being half-carried inside.

As Lady Featherington began to recount the evening’s events in a clipped, matter-of-fact tone, Colin gently eased Penelope onto the bed, his concern etched deeply into his handsome features. The sight of her so pale and fragile tore at him.

‘You gave us all quite a fright,’ he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead.

‘I know. I’m so sorry,’ Penelope replied, her eyes downcast.

‘Do not be sorry,’ Colin said firmly, taking her hands in his and pressing his lips to them with a tenderness that made her heart ache. ‘I am sorry you were taken ill during our betrothal party.’

‘Yes…the timing of this is all rather rotten,’ Penelope said, trying to lighten the mood, but the attempt fell rather flat.

‘Indeed. But hopefully you shall be better by our wedding day,’ Colin said, trying to infuse his words with more confidence than he felt.

Penelope managed a small, nervous laugh. ‘I certainly hope so.’

Lady Featherington, who had now finished speaking with Rae, then directed Colin with a wave of her hand. ‘Thank you, Mr. Bridgerton,’ she said, rather pointedly.

But Colin barely registered her words. His gaze was locked on Penelope as she settled against the pillows, his hand brushing her forehead again as if by touching her, he could somehow discern what was wrong. Was she truly ill? Or was she merely upset? What had caused her to faint? She had been so distressed just before she had collapsed, and he couldn’t stand the thought of her suffering alone.

Lady Featherington then cleared her throat, her impatience thinly veiled. ‘Mr. Bridgerton,’ Portia said sharply. ‘I must insist that you leave now. It is not proper for you to remain in a young lady’s bedchamber.’

Penelope suppressed a giggle as she gazed up at Colin, who looked infuriated by her mother’s badgering. It was amusing, and rather satisfying, to know that Portia’s attempts to keep things proper between them were fruitless, for they had already been intimate. So very intimate.

Colin hesitated, torn between propriety and the overwhelming need to ensure that Penelope was truly all right. Ignoring his future mother-in-law’s admonishment for a moment longer, he then bent down and pressed a tender kiss to Penelope’s forehead.

‘Feel better soon, Pen. Take care of yourself,’ he said softly.

Penelope managed a faint smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. ‘I will, Colin,’ she said, wishing he could stay. ‘Thank you for everything.’

As Colin stepped into the hallway, Lady Featherington followed, closing the door gently behind them as they left Rae to help Penelope get undressed and tucked into bed.

Colin turned to her, his brow furrowed with concern. ‘Lady Featherington,’ he said, ‘I wondered if I might ask you something?’

‘Of course,’ Lady Featherington replied, her tone still brisk, though her eyes hinted at a flicker of curiosity.

‘Is Penelope having doubts about our engagement?’ he asked quietly, and Lady Featherington raised a sceptical eyebrow. ‘She seemed anxious all evening, and I do not want her to feel pressured in any way. Please be honest, I would not be offended if-’

‘Mr. Bridgerton,’ she interrupted exasperatedly, waving away his concerns with a flick of her wrist. ‘I assure you, Penelope is fully committed to this marriage. She has merely been under a great deal of stress, and has been taken ill. That is all.’

Colin nodded slowly, but the unease in his heart remained. There had been something in Penelope’s eyes tonight, a deep anguish, that Lady Featherington either didn’t see or chose to ignore.

‘She was troubled by something. Deeply troubled,’ he insisted, his voice almost pleading for a more sincere answer.

Lady Featherington’s light chuckle tinkled through the hallway, dismissive and airy. ‘She is but a mere lady. All us ladies are troubled by a great deal of things,’ she said, her tone infuriatingly flippant. ‘But now that she has a fine young man to take care of her, all her troubles will cease. As soon as you are wed.’

Colin looked at her doubtfully, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at her nonsensical response. She really was quite a ridiculous woman.

‘I see. Thank you, Lady Featherington. I shall bid you good night,’ he said quietly, before making his way downstairs and out into the night.

Something was amiss, and as much as he wished to believe that Penelope’s episode tonight was nothing more than a brief illness, a deep-seated fear still resided within him. She was hiding something from him, that alone was clear. What if the cause of her distress was something far more profound? What if he was the cause of it?

But he was no closer to answers than he had been a few hours ago. For now, all he could do was wait – and hope that Penelope would trust him enough to tell him the truth in her own time.

Colin returned home, and as the carriage pulled up in front of his family’s townhouse, he opened his eyes, blinking away the haze of exhaustion that had settled over him, and looked up at the front door. The familiar sight of Bridgerton House did little to calm his racing thoughts; his mind was swirling in a dizzying loop, refusing to settle as it replayed the evening’s events over and over until the lines between reality and his worst fears began to blur. It was as if his brain were desperate to solve a riddle he could not yet fathom.

Stepping down from the carriage, Colin took a deep breath, the cool night air doing little to calm the turmoil within him. What had started as the happiest night of his life had ended in a blur of confusion and fear, and he could not shake the sense that something vital had shifted, something he failed to understand.

He was admitted into the house by one of the footmen and immediately headed upstairs. The soft glow of candlelight spilled from the drawing room, where he could hear the low murmur of voices; his family was still awake, waiting for him.

Colin entered the drawing room, and was immediately greeted by the worried faces of his siblings gathered by the settees. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the room, but the atmosphere was heavy, weighted with concern.

Anthony, with Kate by his side, was the first to step forward, his brow furrowed. ‘How is she?’ he asked urgently.

Colin sighed. ‘Resting,’ he replied, his voice weary.

But even as he spoke the word, he could feel the doubt pressing on his chest. They had started the night so joyfully, but then something had taken hold of Penelope – a shadow that had darkened her bright spirit and left her shaken. His heart clenched as he remembered the exact moment Penelope had fainted in his arms. One instant she had been beside him, on the brink of tears, and the next, she was crumpling to the floor, her body limp in his arms, her face pale and drawn. The betrothal party had been a celebration, a night meant to solidify their future…but now it felt tainted.

‘Something is wrong, though,’ Colin said, his voice barely more than a whisper as he sank onto a nearby armchair. ‘I just cannot shake the feeling…’

The room was silent for a moment as Colin’s words hung in the air, and they all gazed at him pitifully.

Colin scratched at his head as he stared glumly down at his lap, deep in thought. The engagement had all been moving so swiftly – perhaps too swiftly. They hadn’t even courted; he had just skipped straight to the idea of marriage. Had Colin overwhelmed her with his love, his desire, his certainty that they were meant to be together? What if tonight was a sign that everything he had done – everything he had said – was too much for her?

Anthony’s hand came to rest on his shoulder, a reassuring weight that did little to dispel the dark thoughts clouding Colin’s mind. ‘Penelope is strong, Colin, and she loves you,’ he said firmly. ‘She has simply fallen ill. She just needs some rest.’

Colin nodded absently, but the doubts refused to go away. ‘What if it’s more than that?’ he muttered, almost to himself. ‘I just…a part of me is wondering if she has changed her mind. About our betrothal. She did not seem very happy tonight, that is all.’

Benedict, usually so quick to make light of any situation, spoke up with uncharacteristic seriousness. ‘You and Penelope have always been meant to be together. You are as close as two people can be,’ he said encouragingly. ‘She wouldn’t change her mind.’

Francesca nodded earnestly in agreement. ‘Exactly. She’s probably just overwhelmed. The concept alone of marriage is rather…daunting, after all,’ she said, and from the uneasy look in her eyes Colin wondered if she had experience herself in such a feeling. ‘Give her time, Colin. She loves you. Everyone can see it.’

Colin tried to take comfort in their words, but then his gaze fell on Eloise. She was sat quietly in the corner, her fingers playing with her gloves, her usual vivacity dampened. She looked rather uncomfortable.

‘Eloise, you have been awfully quiet,’ Colin said, watching her carefully; it was most unlike her to remain silent on any subject at all. ‘Is there something amiss?’

Eloise looked up, her eyes meeting his with a strange flash of something that looked almost like guilt. ‘No, not at all,’ she said airily. ‘Penelope will be well, I am sure of it. She just needs some time.’

Despite her reassurances, Colin couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the story…and the way Eloise shirked his gaze only added to his growing unease.

Shortly afterwards, he bid his family goodnight and retired to his bedchamber, where the weight of the evening settled even more heavily on his shoulders.

As he lay in bed and stared up at the dark canopy above him, Colin’s thoughts spun in an endless loop. He could not bear the thought of his and Penelope’s engagement unravelling before it had truly begun. Yet, if that was what Penelope wished, he would let her go, no matter how much it would break his heart. All he wanted was for her to be happy, even if it meant living without her.

But God, how he prayed that she would stay, that she would fight through whatever fears plagued her. Because without her, his life would be empty, cold, dark, and utterly devoid of joy.

He couldn’t shake the image of Penelope’s anxious face all through tonight’s festivities. He just wanted answers – what was wrong? What had been troubling her so deeply? What was truly going on between her and Eloise? Why had Penelope been so anxious throughout their game of charades? Why had she fled from the drawing room? Why had she succumbed to tears? What had she been on the brink of confessing before Cressida Cowper’s most unwelcome interruption? And most of all, what had caused her to swoon, to collapse so suddenly, as if the weight of whatever burden she carried had finally become too much to bear?

The night offered no solace – only the silent promise of another day filled with questions. Colin knew that he wouldn’t find peace until he had the answers, until he understood what had so deeply troubled the woman he loved. He could only hope that sometime soon, when tonight’s shadows had finally receded, Penelope would share with him what had truly been on her mind. Only then would he know if his fears were unfounded…or if the future he so desperately longed for was about to slip through his fingers.

Chapter Text

Penelope woke in a rage.

She sat up abruptly in her bed, the events of the previous evening rushing back to her with a force that made her heart pound anew.

How dare Cressida Cowper?! The audacity, the sheer nerve of that woman to stand before everyone and announce that she was none other than Lady Whistledown – a claim so preposterous, so ludicrous, that it nearly defied belief. The memory of Cressida’s smug smile, the self-satisfied tilt of her chin as she made her outrageous declaration in the Bridgerton drawing room, made Penelope’s blood boil.

Penelope threw off the covers, her mind racing. Cressida, of all people. It was intolerable. Penelope had devoted years of her life to Lady Whistledown, pouring every ounce of her wit, intelligence, and cunning into the creation of that column. It was her outlet, her weapon in a society that had long dismissed her as nothing more than a wallflower. And now, after all that hard work, after every carefully-crafted issue, Cressida Cowper thought she could simply waltz in and snatch it all away.

The very idea of Cressida being Lady Whistledown was laughable. Everyone knew that Whistledown was clever, witty, and powerful – Cressida was none of those things. She was a shallow, spiteful creature who had never had an original thought in her life. The thought that the ton might actually believe Cressida capable of producing the sharp, insightful commentary that had set tongues wagging and reputations teetering for the past few years made Penelope’s stomach churn with disgust.

She had been paralysed with dread when she had fainted at last night’s party, overwhelmed by the fear of Colin discovering the truth – that she, his sweet, unassuming Pen, was the notorious gossip writer he so despised. But that suffocating terror had momentarily subsided, for her wrath was too all-consuming. How could Cressida – a woman who had done nothing but make Penelope’s life a veritable misery, who had taken every opportunity to mock, belittle and humiliate her – dare to steal the one thing that was entirely and unequivocally Penelope’s own?

No, Penelope wouldn’t have it. And she wouldn’t let it go. Hell would freeze over before she allowed that vain, vapid woman to claim her success.

The moment she had forced some breakfast down her, at the insistence of her mother, Penelope returned to her bedchamber, where she irritably grabbed some parchment, her quill, and her small portfolio of Whistledown materials and clippings. Merely minutes later found her sat on her bed writing furiously on the parchment, her nostrils flaring as she thought back to Cressida’s smug, sneering grin in the Bridgerton drawing room last night.

By the fourth attempt at her new Whistledown issue, Penelope was truly at her most panicked and angry. She wiped the sweat off her brow as she tried scribbling away again:

Dearest Gentle Reader,

It has come to this author’s attention that an unwelcome and unfounded rumour concerning my identity has begun to spread throughout Mayfair. I speak, of course, of the absurd claim by one Miss Cressida Cowper, who, in her desperate attempt to grasp at a fame and popularity she so woefully lacks, has taken it upon herself to proclaim that she, in fact, is the purveyor of our ton’s secrets. One cannot help but admire Miss Cowper’s ambition, if not her veracity.

While such a claim provides ample fodder for our daily discussions over tea, such audacity should not go unpunished, and thus, it falls upon me to set the record straight.

I will not insult the devil by drawing parallels between him and Cressida Cowper, for one is a liar, a fraud, a succubus of the first water, and the other is not known to this author.

Cursing herself inwardly, Penelope crumpled up the paper in a huff.

As much as she needed to discredit Cressida, she couldn’t go too far in her insults. The problem was, it was so difficult to think of anything appropriate to write while she was so incensed.

The door to her bedchamber then opened, and Portia entered, an unusually warm smile on her face.

‘You have a visitor,’ she said, in an almost tantalising tone of voice.

Rather agitated, Penelope put down the crumpled-up piece of paper onto her bedspread to join the rest of abandoned issues she had started. She shut the portfolio in her lap and brushed her hair back nervously as she glanced back up at her mother.

‘Is it…?’ she began tentatively.

Portia’s smile widened. ‘Who else would it be?’

Penelope tried to force a smile back at her, but it was hard. She knew that Colin had been worried last night, from the moment they had entered the drawing room for games and dessert. He had pretended otherwise, of course, for her sake, but she could read him so well – just as he could read her.

It was cruel and unfair, that she had subjected him to a miserable night when they ought to have been happily celebrating their engagement with their nearest and dearest. Penelope would very much like to blame Eloise for the way the party had turned out, but in truth if it was anyone’s fault it was her own. She alone was responsible for this troubling Whistledown situation, after all.

Penelope swallowed loudly and got up from her bed. ‘Very well,’ she said, straightening the skirts of her dress.

Portia frowned and tilted her head at her. ‘Are you not excited to see your fiancé?’

‘Of course,’ Penelope said airily, leading the way out of her bedchamber.

‘He seems very anxious to see you,’ Portia said, walking alongside her.

‘Yes,’ Penelope muttered as they began to descend the staircase. ‘Thank you, Mama.’

As guilt-ridden and uneasy as she felt about seeing Colin today – for she knew that she would have to put on her best act to reassure him that all was well after her display last night – she also felt rather embarrassed. She had fainted at their party, in front of everyone, for no apparent reason. It was absolutely ridiculous.

Inside the drawing room, Colin was waiting anxiously on the settee by the window, his brow furrowed, his hand scratching his knee. He had barely slept all night. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the way Penelope had avoided his eye contact throughout most of the party – something that was most unlike her – nor the way she had collapsed in his arms. She had been so troubled in those last few hours, no matter what everyone else said…Now that the dust had settled after Penelope had accepted his proposal, had she come to realise that he was inadequate? Or had she simply fallen genuinely ill?

Does she still want me? Am I good enough for her? Is she unwell? Does she need a doctor?

The endless questions kept whirling through Colin’s mind, each one only heightening his concern. It was unbearable.

To his relief, the drawing room door then opened and Penelope walked in, looking much less than pale and distressed than she had done last night. In fact, she looked especially beautiful.

‘Pen,’ Colin said in a high, soft voice, as he immediately rose to greet her.

‘Colin,’ Penelope said, warmth flooding through her as she took in the sight of him there waiting for her, and she crossed the room over to him.

‘Are you well?’ he asked, as if his life depended on her response.

He straightened his jacket agitatedly, trying hard to hide his pain and fear. He was so relieved that she had come down to see him – for a few moments, he had been quite convinced that she might have refused and stayed hidden away in her bedchamber.

‘I have been worried,’ he said, holding out his hand for her to take.

‘Worried’ was putting it lightly, but he didn’t want to make too much of a fuss or make her feel in any way guilty.

Penelope smiled, touched, and she placed her hand in his. ‘I am well enough, Colin,’ she said, as he wrapped his other hand around hers. ‘But…perhaps you should not be here, in case it is catching.’

She looked down at their intertwined hands, reassured by the warmth and softness of his skin, when she then noticed the ink stains all over her hand. Alarmed, she quickly snatched her hand away and hid it behind her back; she couldn’t have him suspecting anything, after all. She then looked back up at him, trying to look as innocent as possible.

Colin considered her for a moment, perturbed by her rather uneasy manner, but then gave her an earnest gaze. ‘There is nowhere else I would rather be,’ he said, smiling at her.

Penelope’s anxious features melted into a smile, and together they both went to sit at the settee by the window.

Although she had been initially jittery and reluctant to see Colin after last night, Penelope suddenly found herself extremely glad that he was here. She had been feeling so angry and sad this morning, lost in the belief that her whole world was shattering, and yet all she had to do was look at him now and those feelings simply washed away. Nothing else seemed to matter when Colin was by her side. She could focus on his warm smile, his adoring gaze, the way it felt to be in his arms, the memory of how his kisses and touches made her body quiver…and all was perfectly well, her troubles momentarily forgotten. 

Colin gazed at Penelope with parted lips; she looked quite breathtaking, sat so closely to him, her expression intense, with the light from the window bathing her in a natural glow. He wanted to kiss her so much, or even just to wrap her in his arms. But then he glanced over at Lady Featherington on the far side of the room, idly fingering a flower arrangement and quite blatantly staring at them both. She quickly looked away, and Colin, trying to hide his irritation, turned back to his fiancé.

He felt rather out of his element; it was the first time that anyone had ever felt the need for a chaperone to be present with Colin and Penelope, and this forced formality was rather befuddling. They had written letters to each other for years…they had called each other by their given names…Colin had touched her arm, her back, and her hands ungloved…they had been alone in rooms and gardens together countless times…they had broken so many rules their entire adolescence. And yet it was only now, after they had become engaged – not to mention after they had kissed on multiple occasions and consummated their relationship – that they finally had a chaperone. It was ridiculous, and incredibly annoying.

Colin reached for Penelope’s hand again, this time resting on the settee, and held it gently as he leaned closer to her. ‘I know there is something you wish to tell me,’ he said quietly, not wanting her mother to overhear, and Penelope’s stomach dropped. ‘But I am happy to be patient until you are ready to unfold whatever it is you are feeling.’

Penelope gazed at him for a moment, stunned. She was certain that not many men would have willingly forgiven their fiancé’s dismal behaviour at their betrothal party, let alone not pushed them for an answer as to what was wrong. But Colin was considerate and trusting. He was not subjecting her to an interrogation or putting any pressure on her, nor judging her or resenting her for somewhat ruining their celebration. He just cared. He just wanted her to be all right.

She suddenly wanted nothing more than to tell him the truth about Lady Whistledown at this very moment, for he was the most kind, understanding, loving person on this earth, who clearly adored her. She could tell him anything and he would still be there for her, she was sure of that now.

But then she remembered her eavesdropping mother, still hovering at the other side of the room while she nibbled a macaroon.

It took every effort for Penelope to resist cursing under her breath. This whole having a chaperone business was extremely irritating. Neither of them was used to it, which was rather ironic, given that it had taken the two of them becoming engaged to one another for people to realise that a chaperone might indeed be necessary. No one – least of all her mother – had ever worried about protecting Penelope or adhering to propriety when she had been considered an undesirable wallflower, but now that she was very much the opposite it seemed that she was indeed at risk of being compromised, and Colin presented a threat to her virtue. Oh, if only Portia knew.

Penelope turned back to Colin, reassured by the feel of his hand in hers. Now was not the time or the place to tell him about Whistledown, not with her mother here. She would have to wait until they were truly alone – it was the only way.

She leaned even closer so that she could speak quietly to him. ‘I cannot speak about it now. But I certainly did not swoon because of anything you did,’ she said, and Colin felt the relief flood through him at her words. ‘Because of Cressida Cowper and her insane claims to be Whistledown.’

Colin nodded as he stroked her fingers against the settee. ‘It is rather remarkable. All the unkindnesses she has written about you and me and our families…and then to unmask herself at our engagement party,’ he said, trying not to sound too sharp, but he couldn’t completely hide his anger towards Cressida; hadn’t she already done enough?

‘It’s just like Cressida to take that which is not hers,’ Penelope said, caressing his thumb.

‘Hm,’ Colin murmured, and he frowned, deep in thought. ‘Do you think it is really her?’

Penelope didn’t know what to say to that, although she greatly enjoyed that he was sceptical of Cressida’s announcement. In fact, she greatly enjoyed the mere sight of Colin before her. He looked so handsome, so…irresistible.

Her eyes roamed down to his lips as she remembered what had happened in their future home mere days ago. She thought of the way he had undressed her and told her to lie down in front of that mirror…she thought of his strong, muscled arms around her naked body…she thought of his bare torso pressed against hers as he moved and teased her…she thought of the look on his face when he had released…she thought of the way he had trailed kisses along her breasts…

But now was not the time to be thinking such thoughts. Sadly. So, Penelope tried to refocus on what he was saying.

‘I always imagined Lady Whistledown might be more...clever, perhaps,’ Colin continued, and Penelope couldn’t help but smile and nod in agreement, her eyebrows raising as she drunk in the sight of him.

It sent a thrill rushing through her, just to hear Colin praise the writer he supposedly hated. It sounded as if he even admired Lady Whistledown. Penelope was quite sure in that moment that, if her mother had not been watching, she would have immediately launched herself onto Colin’s lap and kissed him until they were both gasping for breath there and then. 

Colin suddenly felt rather warm as he took in the way Penelope was gazing at his lips; if Lady Featherington were not present in this room, he knew he would have succumbed to temptation by now.

Composing himself, he squeezed her hand. ‘I shall let you rest,’ he said softly, and then he reached into his jacket pocket, suddenly feeling extremely nervous. ‘But before I go…I have something for you.’

Penelope tilted her head quizzically at him, a soft smile forming on her lips, and she then noticed that he had pulled out a small black jewellery box.

Colin gulped slightly. He had been debating all morning whether to present it to Penelope today, given all his fears about whether she still wished to marry him after the way she had distanced herself last night. But something in the way she had gazed at him just now – not to mention his desperation to cling on to his blissful joy of simply being with her – gave him the courage to lay those doubts to rest, at least for this moment.

‘The jeweller has just finished setting it,’ Colin said, and he slowly opened the box.

Penelope let out a gasp of joy and she clutched his arm as she took in the sight; a betrothal ring lay inside. She clasped her other hand to her stomach, which had instantly filled with butterflies, as she gazed at the delicate, gold ring in wonder. It was set with several dainty pearls and shaped almost like a daisy, with a golden yellow gem glistening in the middle. She had never seen anything more exquisite.

‘Oh...oh, Colin, it is beautiful,’ Penelope said, delighted, as she gazed back into his eyes.

Colin smiled, pleased by her reaction. ‘And yet, still only half as beautiful as you,’ he said, his face suddenly serious, his voice earnest; he needed her to know that he meant his words.

Penelope’s eyes crinkled in a joyful smile as she felt her heart melt. He really was too remarkable for words. A dream come true, indeed.

She chuckled softly, hardly daring to believe her luck, and felt her skin tingle all over as Colin gently slipped the ring onto her finger. She was so wrapped up in the moment, so consumed with awe over the fact that Colin Bridgerton had presented her with a betrothal ring, that she had completely forgotten about her ink stains…until she felt his hand falter in hers.

‘What is all this ink?’ Colin asked, frowning, and Penelope immediately withdrew her hands in a panic. ‘Have you been writing?

‘Oh. Yes,’ Penelope said, flustered as she tried desperately to come up with something quickly. ‘Um...l-letters. To, uh...to share our happy news.’

She forced a smile, squeezed his hand and nodded, desperate to convince him.

Colin gazed at her for a moment and slowly nodded. He did not believe her. He could see it in her eyes – and, quite frankly, the excuse was poorly thought-out. Who would she be writing to, when everyone they cared about had attended their betrothal party last night, and when everyone else she knew had found out about their engagement days ago thanks to Lady Whistledown – or, rather, Cressida Cowper?

Nevertheless, he did not want to press her on the issue. Whatever she was hiding, she must have good reason to do so, and he knew that she would explain it to him in time, when she was ready. He had no reason to doubt her, after all. He trusted Penelope more than anyone.

‘Of course,’ Colin said, smiling at her. ‘I shall leave you to it.’

They both rose to their feet, Penelope’s heart thudding uneasily. Why was it that Lady Whistledown – or, in this case, her ink-stained fingers – always came in the way of such happy moments between her and Colin?

Colin held his hand out to Penelope again. ‘Good day, Miss Featherington. For now,’ he added, a cheeky glint in his eyes, and he chuckled lightly before leaning down to kiss the top of her hand.

Penelope gazed up at him adoringly, a mesmerising smile on her face that made him almost weak at the knees. He would have kissed her fiercely on the lips if her blasted mother hadn’t been stood right there.

Flashing Penelope one last loving smile, he then strode out of the room, barely glancing at Lady Featherington as he passed.

Penelope watched him go, utterly dazed, and glanced at the ring on her finger for a moment before looking nervously up at Portia.

Portia’s eyes widened and her face lit up with a bright, excited smile unlike anything Penelope had seen before, and they both chuckled softly, as if neither of them could believe what had just happened. Penelope realised in that moment that her mother was truly happy for her. Delighted, even. It was the most peculiar feeling.

‘May I see the ring?’ Portia asked, abandoning her arrangement of flowers and stepping over.

Penelope gazed breathlessly back at the door through which Colin had just left, her smile faltering. ‘Err, y-yes, just…just one minute, Mama, I forgot something…’

She scuttled out of the drawing room before she even gave her mother a chance to respond.

Penelope’s heart raced giddily as she hurried down the grand staircase. Colin had just reached the entryway, the footman about to open the front door for him, when she called out, ‘Colin!’

Colin paused and turned back to her, pleasantly surprised. ‘Did I leave something?’ he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice.

Penelope beamed rather breathlessly, the sight of him making her heart swell. She then glanced around, her eyes darting to the footmen who lingered in the entryway, and she gave them a pointed look. Understanding her unspoken command, they discreetly retreated from the hallway, leaving the two of them alone.

Without another word, Penelope rushed up to Colin and stood on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to his in a tender kiss. Colin, caught off guard, bent his knees to meet her, placing his hands on her waist as he kissed her back softly.

When they broke apart, Colin looked dazed. ‘What was that for?’ he asked quietly, his lips parted in a small, stunned smile.

Penelope gazed at him in awe. ‘For everything,’ she replied, her voice soft and sincere. ‘And…because I wanted to. And because I could. That’s still a fact I’m getting used to.’

Colin’s smile matched hers, his eyes crinkling at the corners. ‘Me too.’

For a moment, they stood there simply smiling at each other, basking in the quiet joy of the moment, the world outside forgotten.

His mere presence had Penelope’s head in a spin. Colin was the only thing she wanted to touch and see, the only one who could make her feel such joy in the midst of all her inner turmoil. He had taken her to paradise the other day in their new home and she wanted so desperately for him to take her there again, to set her heart on fire, to feel every inch of his bare skin against hers. But of course, she wasn’t thinking straight – she knew deep down that wouldn’t be possible for some time. Somehow, they had managed to get away with sneaking away alone on the first full day of their betrothal, but now their mothers would no doubt insist on a chaperone being present with them at all times. It was very ironic, and very, very frustrating.

Penelope’s cheeks began to flush with embarrassment as her scandalous thoughts consumed her, and she looked away, suddenly feeling rather shy under his adoring gaze.

Colin tilted his head slightly, noticing the pink tinge on her cheeks. ‘What is it?’ he asked softly.

Penelope blushed deeper. ‘Nothing,’ she said, but the mischievous glint in her eyes betrayed her.

Colin looked intrigued. ‘Go on,’ he said, smirking.

‘Well, it is only…it was maddening my mother being in there,’ she admitted, casting a quick glance toward the staircase to make sure that they were well and truly alone.

‘Yes, it was rather,’ Colin agreed, his lips twitching playfully. ‘I wanted you all to myself.’

Penelope looked down, her fingers fidgeting as she spoke again. ‘I keep wondering when…’ But she trailed off, looking rather bashful.

Colin smiled, his eyes darkening with hunger as he searched her face, cottoning on to her train of thought. ‘When what?’ he prompted, leaning closer.

She then giggled quietly, a sound that made Colin’s heart soar. ‘Well…when the next opportunity will present itself for you to seduce me again.’

Colin’s eyes widened in mock horror, though his grin gave him away. ‘S-sed – I did not seduce you!’ he spluttered indignantly, delighted and greatly amused by the turn this conversation had taken.

‘You did!’ Penelope insisted, laughing at his flustered state.

Colin shook his head, grinning. ‘I-it was the mirror!’ he said defensively. ‘If anything, you seduced me. You were looking far too irresistible.’

Penelope shook her head in exasperation, a dazed look in her eyes as she smiled up at him.

It had been so bewildering, to be wrapped in his arms the other day, to feel his embrace so completely, to come apart underneath him, to become one with him. The world had simply frozen around the two of them, and it had made her realise that she had known nothing about love before. He had utterly bewitched her – well, he had bewitched her from the moment they had first met, in truth, but even more so now – and she could not think straight. It was the most blissful, wonderful feeling she had ever experienced. She never wanted it to end.

‘What?’ Colin said softly, leaning closer to her.

‘You…just…being you,’ Penelope said, exhaling as she drank in the sight of him.

Colin took her hand in his, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. ‘Is that a good thing?’ he asked, his eyebrows flickering playfully at her to conceal just how desperately he needed to hear an affirmative answer.

Penelope chuckled, an awed look on her face. ‘It is the most wonderful thing. Kiss me again,’ she said, her voice full of yearning.

Colin glanced around the hallway. ‘We shouldn’t,’ he said, though he was already leaning in. ‘This is your family house – anyone could walk in on us.’

‘Well, you had better do it quickly, then.’

A huge grin spread on Colin’s face; they both chuckled as he leaned down and kissed her, more deeply this time, as if trying to memorise the feel of her lips on his.

When they parted, Colin looked almost close to tears, and Penelope could see the giddy relief in his eyes and smile, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. All last night and this morning, he had been plagued with fears that Penelope regretted their engagement, that she was doubting everything. But now, as he looked into her eyes, those fears melted away.

Clearly, whatever had been troubling her at last night’s party had been nothing to do with him – he could see it all in her face: she wanted him, she cared for him, she was as excited and giddy about their marriage as he was. Yes, something still troubled her deep down, but she looked happy to be here just laughing with him and kissing him, and that was enough for now. Whatever problems she was facing, she would tell him eventually, and they would face them together, united as the team they were.

‘Will I see you tomorrow?’ Penelope asked hopefully.

Colin smirked at her as he tilted his head and squeezed her hands. ‘Penelope Featherington, you will be seeing me every day from now on,’ he promised, his tone teasing but his eyes serious. ‘There will be no escaping me, I am afraid.’

Penelope smiled, blinking back tears; she had never heard more perfect words.  ‘Good.’

She felt utterly helpless and misty-eyed. Would this always happen, she wondered, whenever she saw him from now on? This dazed feeling, the soaring violins in her ears, the fireworks, this joy and shock and dizziness…simply from the touch of his hand, or the way he walked towards her, or the way he spoke her name when he greeted her? Was it normal to feel so overwhelmed when one was in love, and loved in return? It was extraordinary. And she never wanted it to end.

When Penelope returned to her bedchamber shortly after Colin had left, she closed the door and immediately held her hand up to her face so that she could study the delicate pearl ring on her finger in detail.

A chuckled sigh escaped her lips as she leant against the door and stared at the ring, feeling the gem with her fingers as if to make sure it was real. She had never thought this day would ever come – she had never imagined that she, Penelope Featherington, would end up engaged to the love of her life.

But as she continued to stare at the ring, her smile slowly faded. Her eyes drifted to the bed, where her Whistledown portfolio and abandoned issues lay waiting for her, and the joy that had filled her moments ago began to ebb away.

She began to blink rapidly and stare ahead, her back sagging against the door as the weight of her secret, her deception, pressed down on her.

What do I do?

She had just experienced one of the most beautiful moments of her life, yet she couldn’t fully enjoy it; it was tainted by guilt. She was still keeping secrets, still hiding such a huge part of herself from Colin. Even today, she had been forced to lie to him about the ink stains on her hands. How many more lies would she continue to tell in the days leading up to, and after, their wedding?

The burden was becoming too unbearable. She couldn’t enjoy this happy time and share a life with Colin, while something so monumental loomed over her, threatening to destroy everything. It was a constant shadow that she couldn’t escape.

Penelope’s hand trembled as she clutched the ring tighter, her heart torn, her thoughts a tumultuous storm. She loved Colin more than anything, but this secret might very well tear them apart, and she could see no way out of it. She could see nothing at all in this endless black tunnel.

Penelope knew one thing for certain: this was no way to live. And something had to be done about it – before it was too late.

Chapter Text

Colin was sat with his family in the drawing room, trying to read today’s newspaper while his siblings squabbled over macarons. He was still feeling rather happy and relieved after his visit to Featherington House this morning; Penelope had looked much more like herself – radiant, even. The sight of her shining eyes and giddy smile when he had given her the betrothal ring had been wonderful; it had given him a surge of relief that she was still his, and still wanted this.

But still, a small voice nagged at the back of his mind, whispering that something was not quite right, no matter how joyful she had appeared today.

He knew it would do him no good to dwell on this now, though; Penelope had assured him that whatever was bothering her had nothing to do with anything he had done, and he had to take comfort in that and simply accept that she was not ready to share her troubles yet.

Besides, he had other more pressing matters to focus on right now – his sister’s betrothal, for one.

Francesca was very cool and collected when she and Lord John Kilmartin made the announcement to the room at large; indeed, their extremely casual, composed demeanour about becoming engaged was rather baffling, as everyone in the room erupted into celebration with loud cheers and embraces. Colin was pleasantly surprised; he knew that Francesca had been quietly hoping to find a husband this season – mainly out of eagerness to escape the hustle and bustle of their loud, chaotic household, which he could not blame her for.

But still, the speed of it all left him slightly dazed. Their courtship had been so fast, and Colin had thought it would take longer to get to this point, that Francesca might spend more time considering her options. Yet, here she was, engaged to be married, with a quiet confidence that spoke volumes about her decision. How casual and blasé both she and Lord Kilmartin – or rather, John, now – seemed about it, as if they were discussing the weather rather than the rest of their lives. But they seemed happy, and, at the end of the day, that was all that mattered.

As the family continued to gather around to offer their congratulations to the newly betrothed pair, Colin found himself grinning, eager to tell Penelope the news; he knew how much she cared about Francesca.

His musings were interrupted by the arrival of Anthony, Kate and Newton, back from their promenade in the park. Hyacinth, ever the enthusiastic messenger, immediately rushed to tell Anthony about this latest development.

‘Francesca and Lord Kilmartin are engaged!’ Hyacinth announced, her voice bright and giddy with excitement.

Anthony smiled, his eyes twinkling as he glanced at Francesca and John. ‘We already know,’ he said warmly. ‘Lord Kilmartin asked for my permission last night after Colin and Penelope’s party. Congratulations again to you both.’

‘Thank you, Brother,’ Francesca said, as John nodded and smiled beside her.

‘And, err…while we are on the subject of family news…Kate and I have news of our own,’ Anthony said, his expression softening as he gazed at Kate, and Colin began to smile as Anthony took a deep breath, looking as if he might burst with pride. ‘We are with child!’

The room instantly burst into a fresh wave of cheers, congratulations and joy once again. Colin wasn’t surprised at all; the way Anthony and Kate had been practically glowing since their return to town, not to mention Anthony’s sudden over-protective obsession with Kate’s stomach, had been enough to give it away.

Colin raised an eyebrow at his brother when he came over to offer his congratulations.  ‘Is that why you were so perturbed by the news of my betrothal when you returned from Devon, Brother?’ he said teasingly. ‘Was I stealing your thunder?’

Anthony’s lips twitched. ‘Perhaps a little. But no matter,’ he said, clapping him on the back, and they both chuckled. ‘I should warn you – this may affect you and Benedict. Well, Benedict mostly, but still.’

Colin frowned curiously. ‘In what sense?’

‘I would like to move back to Aubrey Hall for the remainder of the season – I think it would be best for Kate, to take her away from the stress of the city and all these events with the ton, so she can properly rest in the country. It will be good for her,’ Anthony said, and then his lips twitched, as if unable to suppress his excitement. ‘And, well, I am also very eager to set up the nursery there.’

‘That sounds very sensible,’ Colin said with a nod.

‘It just means some of my duties for what needs to be taken care of here in London may need to pass to Benedict,’ Anthony said, and he sighed deeply, as if guilt-ridden. ‘I am not one who likes to abandon my responsibilities as Viscount, but right now my utmost priority is Kate and the baby.’

‘Of course. Absolutely,’ Colin said encouragingly, and he smiled as he put his hand on his shoulder. ‘I am so very happy for you, Brother.’

Anthony smiled warmly back, his eyes suddenly looking rather wet. ‘Thank you, Colin.’

Colin didn’t find Anthony’s plan surprising; on the contrary, he knew just how much Anthony and Kate loved Aubrey Hall, and had long suspected that the happy couple would end up spending more time there, perhaps even setting up permanent residence there as opposed to here at Bridgerton House in Mayfair, away from the frenetic pace of London. It all made perfect sense, and Colin knew that Benedict would be grateful to take on some of Anthony’s duties, for he had been feeling rather aimless of late. Indeed, if Colin hadn’t had Penelope and their marriage on the horizon, he might have even felt rather envious of him for being given such responsibilities.

As much as he tried to stay in the moment of giddy elation with the rest of the family, Colin’s mind began to wander back to Penelope, as it so often did. She had been so thrilled and besotted around him at her house this morning…and yet he still couldn’t shake off his worries about why she had been acting so uneasy at their betrothal party last night. He knew now that she didn’t appear to be doubting their engagement – not judging from her reaction to the betrothal ring, anyway – but still…something was off.

Colin knew that he should be focusing on Francesca’s and Anthony’s good news – their family was growing, and his own future with Penelope was finally within reach. He was so eager to start this new life with Penelope, and now that he had finally realised that she was the answer to everything he had been searching for, he wanted to move forward as quickly as possible. The ring was just the beginning; he was already making plans for their wedding ceremony, for the wedding breakfast, for their home, for the life they would build together.

But the doubts wouldn’t leave him alone.

He wasn’t a lord or a viscount; he couldn’t offer Penelope the kind of fortune or status she deserved. In fact, through his actions the night of the Queen’s Ball, he himself had ruined Penelope’s chances of marrying a man who could have given her all that. She could do so much better than him, and she had every right to be having second thoughts. But Colin loved her so deeply, and he was determined to make up for the time he had wasted, all those years when she had been right in front of him, and he hadn’t truly seen her. He wanted to be everything for her. All he needed to do was prove to her – and to himself – that he was enough, that he could provide her with the life she deserved.

But how could he do that when his mind was tangled in fears he simply couldn’t shake?

As the celebrations continued around him, Colin excused himself quietly and retreated to his study, hoping for some distraction. A cautious optimism had tried to take hold within him, now that he was reassured that Penelope still wanted to be with him after seeing her this morning, but he still wanted to be alone for a while. He was feeling particularly insecure about himself and his worth – not to mention daunted by the knowledge that Penelope was still hiding something from him.

The familiar scent of ink and parchment greeted him as he sat down at his desk, hoping to preoccupy himself with his writing. He picked up his quill, determined to write something – anything. The comfort of his quill and his words often calmed his restless mind, after all. But the words wouldn’t come, and the blank page simply stared back at him, as if mocking him. His thoughts couldn’t stop circling back to the anxious look in Penelope’s eyes as she had avoided him last night.

Colin stared at the paper before him, the frustration building as the minutes ticked by. He ran a hand through his hair, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath.

All is well. Penelope and I are happy. We are to be married. All is well.

He needed to believe it. He needed to believe that Penelope’s love and certainty for him was as strong as his for her. And he did believe it. He did. But it still did not shake the doubts that had taken root within him after Penelope’s strange, distant behaviour.

He had never felt so giddily happy and so quietly uneasy all at once. And he didn’t know how to make sense of it.

Abandoning the blank page in his journal, Colin then turned to the new manuscript he had started the other day, hoping he would find some inspiration there instead; it was easier to adapt a previously-written entry than start completely from scratch, after all. Finding a section that he had already made a start on, he dipped his quill into the inkwell and began scratching out several neatly-scripted words on the page. He attempted to replace them with better alternatives, but it was a struggle.

He felt so frustrated. His writing had been going so well the past couple of days, but today…well, something was missing. The words weren’t flowing naturally, the sentences did not sound right, his mind wasn’t as immersed as usual – which was strange and infuriating, as writing was his favourite hobby.

June 19 -

I spent a delightful afternoon in another’s company. She is a special woman. Watching her eyes dart all around the room, taking in the paintings of great artists and the way she moved her head, as if she were playing a musical instrument, made the day for me.

But as she gasped at the sight of the vaulted ceilings painted with scenes from an ancient tale, tapestries that stretched across three walls showing tales of heroes long dead, I found myself drifting into thoughts of home.

He frowned as he pored over his journal entry; he wanted to expand on it for his manuscript, but it just wasn’t going well at all. He knew deep down that he was still too consumed with worrying over what had been troubling Penelope so much last night to put in any decent work on it right now. Nevertheless, he wanted to keep trying, so he bent down to continue with his quill.

As luck would have it, I became thoroughly distracted by the way her open curiosity made me think. I thought of how Gregory, full of energy, would have bounded across the room in wonder, eager to explore every corner of this new world. And the way Benedict would have studied each piece of art and lingered over each brushstroke, his keen eye capturing the nuances that others might miss.

Colin continued to write, his quill scratching across the page more aggressively as time went on. He sighed and frowned down at the dismal pages, barely even noticing when Eloise entered the study; it was only when she closed the door and strode over to him with a curious smile that he looked up.

‘Are you moping about the chocolate macaron?’ she asked, her lips twitching.

Colin looked at her blankly. It took him a moment to realise that she was referring to the playful little fight Benedict, Hyacinth and Gregory had had earlier over the macarons in the drawing room before Francesca and John’s announcement. Colin could not have cared less about the macarons, which was unusual for him; indeed, at the time, he had thought Benedict rather childish for engaging in such behaviour…but then again, he knew very well that he would have done just the same if his mind had not been preoccupied with, well, other matters.

‘Did you know she was Lady Whistledown?’ he asked Eloise, raising his eyebrows.

Eloise’s smile faded at once and she swallowed, looking suddenly rather panicked. ‘You s-spoke with Penelope this morning?’

‘Yes. She is devastated about Miss Cowper coming forward,’ Colin said, and Eloise let out a breath, which confused him; a strange look of relief seemed to have crossed her face, for some reason. ‘Tell me you did not know.’

He had leaned forward on his desk and was gazing at her with wide, desperate eyes. Eloise regarded him for a moment, her lips parted, her eyes lowered.

Colin slowly angled his head as he watched her, horror slowly building within him. She looked almost ashamed.

‘No,’ Eloise eventually said in a strangled voice as she shook her head. ‘Not about Cressida.’

‘Hm,’ Colin said, relieved – he had been worried for a second there – and he straightened up slightly in his seat as he put down his quill.

‘The friendship was already souring, but…this caper may be the final straw,’ Eloise said wearily, as she sat down on the other side of the desk to face him.

‘I should hope so,’ Colin said, and Eloise’s expression faltered again. ‘I suppose it would be nonsensical for you to have befriended her if you knew, considering everything she has written.’

Eloise’s bottom lip trembled slightly. ‘You have been…so angry with Whistledown. What will you do?’ she asked.

Colin hesitated for a moment, thinking hard. ‘There is a part of me that should like to march to her house with a pitchfork. And if you wished me to, I still would,’ he said, and they exchanged a wry smile. ‘But…in truth, everything that has happened of late has softened me, I suppose.’

‘You mean everything with Penelope,’ Eloise said.

Colin smiled; it was a relief to hear her say those words and not sound so bitter or cold about it. And she was right – everything with Penelope had changed him completely. Any troubles, worries or grudges he’d had before had simply faded into the background from the moment he had heard from Penelope’s lips that she wanted to be more than friends in that carriage.

His smile became almost giddy. ‘I know you do not wish to hear it, but it is truly bewildering how quickly one person can become all that matters,’ he said, gazing into Eloise’s eyes as if imploring her to understand. ‘My only concern now is with her wellbeing. And our future together.’

His gaze drifted off, his expression softening as the truth of his words sank in. He chuckled softly to himself. How lucky he was, to be in such a position – to love someone so deeply, and for that someone to be all that mattered. He was so excited for his and Penelope’s life together that he almost couldn’t stand it.

Eloise closed her eyes, as if his words had caused her pain, and worked her jaw as she nodded reluctantly.

‘Perhaps I can make Lady Whistledown go away,’ Eloise then said, leaning forward on her seat. ‘So she shall not be able to harm any of us again.’

‘You will speak with Miss Cowper?’ Colin asked.

An awkward expression crossed her face. ‘With the scribe herself,’ Eloise said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

Colin gave her a faint nod, then glanced aside thoughtfully, thinking over her words. It was a relief, really, to know that the truth about Lady Whistledown was out in the open; now, at last – and with a little encouragement from Eloise – he and Penelope could be reassured that they would never have to worry about one more scathing word from the cruel gossip writer.

He smiled back at Eloise; she responded with a fleeting, hesitant smile in return, though it quickly faded. Indeed, she looked rather bereft.

Colin frowned, concerned. ‘Does something trouble you, El?’ he asked quietly. ‘You have not been yourself for a while, and…’

‘I am well,’ Eloise said, clearing her throat and straightening up. ‘Apologies, it is only…this Whistledown business.’

‘Of course, I understand,’ Colin said, and he tilted his head at her sympathetically. ‘It must have been quite a shock for you to discover such a thing of your friend.’

Eloise stared at him for a moment, her eye twitching slightly. ‘It was,’ she said in an empty, wavering voice. ‘A great shock.’

A small pause fell between them as the two siblings looked at each other, Colin’s expression attentive, Eloise’s deeply strained.

‘You are very happy, aren’t you?’ Eloise said eventually, a sad, almost weary tone to her voice.

A warm smile spread on Colin’s face. ‘I am. Incandescently so.’

Eloise nodded slowly. ‘I am glad, Colin. Truly,’ she said, and it gave Colin such joy to hear the sincerity in her words.

Dipping her head slightly to avoid his gaze, Eloise then rose from her seat and turned to leave the room.

‘Eloise?’ Colin called after her, and she paused by the door. ‘Thank you.’

They exchanged a fond smile, and Eloise departed the study.

Colin turned back to his manuscript with a frown, but then his expression softened slightly as he read over his dissatisfactory words. After his conversation with Eloise, he knew just what to do that might help improve today’s work.

Smiling, Colin dipped his quill into the inkwell, and proceeded to expand on the journal entry:

Yet it was not just my brothers who came to mind. As Lady Rothschild marvelled at the intricate details above us, I was suddenly transported to a different time and place – one that felt like both yesterday and a lifetime ago. I remembered a different ceiling, a different woman. Penelope.

It was the day of her debut, over two years ago, when my sister Daphne also made hers. We were in the palace for the presentation to the court, and as Penelope walked into the grand hall, she tried her best to avoid looking directly at the Queen; instead, her eyes flitted about towards the ceiling above, taking in every detail of the frescoes, the gilded mouldings, the chandeliers. I could see it all so clearly; she was nervous, of course, and there was something endearing in her distraction, in the way she sought comfort in the architecture and art rather than face the stern gaze of royalty and the daunting scrutiny of the court.

Memories such as these stayed with me throughout my travels, resurfacing at the most unexpected moments. Whether it was the sound of a street musician in Venice that reminded me of a waltz Penelope and I had danced at a ball, or the scent of lavender in a Tuscan garden that brought to mind the scent of her hair as she leaned in close to whisper a wry comment that made me laugh.

Now, as I sit here months later, back in London, so much has changed. I am now engaged to be married to the very woman whose presence lingered in my thoughts throughout my travels. It is strange to think that, while I was abroad, it was home that occupied my thoughts most often. And home was never just my family, although they will always be an inseparable part of my heart; it was Penelope, as well.

In Europe, I found beauty in the splendour and history of every city I visited, but every piece of artwork, every glance at the sky, every soft note of music, every garden and museum visited, every soirée I attended, brought me back to her. And now that I am back, I realise that I was never truly lost; I was just making my way back to where I belong.

Penelope, above all, is home and family to me. She always has been, even when I was too blind to see it. And now, I am blessed to know it, and to live it, every day.

Colin smiled to himself as he sat up and read over the page. At least he now knew that all he had to do whenever his quill ran dry of inspiration was to turn to his lovely memories of Penelope. After all, if anything was his muse, it was undoubtedly her.

***

The afternoon light poured through the window as Penelope worked frantically on her Lady Whistledown manuscript in her bedchamber. Crumpled pages covered her bedspread around her; she had lost count of how many more attempts she had made on her new issue since Colin had left the house this morning. She wrote away furiously, the betrothal ring on her finger momentarily forgotten as Cressida’s smug face kept swimming to the forefront of her mind.

In case this author has not said it plainly enough, read this clearly now: Cressida Cowper is a liar. A Fraud. A Charlatan. Perhaps that is too plain, but how else does one describe a person who will take every underhanded opportunity and shameless manoeuvre to get over on someone else?

Penelope frowned agitatedly as she continued scribbling away, her hands stained with even more ink, her anger growing with every second.

There was then a firm knock at the door.

Penelope looked up at once, alarmed, and hastily closed her portfolio as the door to her bedchamber opened.

She wasn’t sure if she felt more relieved or horrified when Eloise walked through the door – either way, she was definitely surprised. She hadn’t expected to see her former friend ever walk through this door again…not after the last time the two of them had been in here, on the most devastating night of Penelope’s life thus far.

Penelope exhaled deeply as she stared at Eloise with wide, panicked eyes. ‘I was going to tell him. I…-’

But she trailed off feebly as Eloise offered her a tight, sceptical smile and shut the door.

‘But you did not,’ Eloise said, walking over towards her, and she sighed as she sat by Penelope’s bed. ‘And when the time came…neither did I.’

Penelope watched her, her heart still racing fearfully. Last night had been so terrible. Her own betrothal party had been utterly ruined because of Eloise and her ultimatum. She ought to feel livid. She ought to banish her from her house. But she could not. It was Eloise, after all. And, was Penelope imagining it in her desperation to find some hope among this tumultuous time in her life, or was a bit of her old friend coming back? She thought she could see it now, in the way Eloise turned towards her, in the way she spoke, in the uncomfortable expression on her face. The chasm between them suddenly seemed less large.

‘Because I see now that the truth would destroy Colin,’ Eloise continued, fixing Penelope with a firm gaze.

Penelope pressed her lips together as she tried to think of how best to process those words, for she could not bear them. ‘Once I get this issue out,’ she said, her breathing rather shaky as she leaned towards Eloise, ‘I do still plan to tell him-’

But Eloise interrupted her. ‘No,’ she said, holding her hand out as if to stop her.

Penelope frowned at her, confused. She didn’t understand. Ever since she and Colin had become engaged, the only thing Eloise had wanted was for her brother to know the truth. And Penelope had agreed that such a thing was necessary, as terrifying as that thought was. Why would Eloise change her mind about that now, particularly after her stubborn attitude last night? It made no sense. 

‘For whatever reason, my brother truly believes...he loves you,’ Eloise said, somewhat begrudgingly as she tried not to roll her eyes, and Penelope slowly straightened up as she realised what she was saying. ‘And if he knew it was you all along – writing about me, our family, Marina – if he knew how long I too have kept this secret from him...’

A tense pause fell between them. Penelope gazed at Eloise in earnest, hating to see her struggle in this way while knowing that she was entirely to blame for it.

‘Why tell him,’ Eloise said, ‘when the better thing is for you to put down your pen?’

Penelope frowned, perplexed by such a suggestion. ‘But I cannot stop,’ she said. ‘Especially now-’

‘Yes, you can, because now you have the perfect escape!’ Eloise said, her voice and expression desperate.

Penelope felt a weak smile of disbelief form on her face as she realised what she meant. No, she could not accept that. Anything but that.

‘You do not mean-’

‘Oh, as harebrained as her display last night was, Cressida has done you a favour,’ Eloise said imploringly. ‘She will never be able to write a convincing issue. Let the column die with her name, and no one will ever be the wiser.’

With each word she spoke, Penelope felt herself becoming more panicked and more outraged. She couldn’t bear it. She just couldn’t.

‘Eloise,’ she said, breathing heavily in an attempt to control her temper, but it was no use; she was almost shouting by the time she finished speaking. ‘I have worked too hard for too long. Of all people, I refuse to let Cressida Cowper take credit! It would break my heart!’

‘And what of Colin’s heart?’ Eloise said sharply, and Penelope froze; she hadn’t been expecting that. ‘It would break his to find out the truth.’

‘But...’ Penelope began, but she cut herself off as she struggled desperately to think of what to say.

She knew deep down that everything Eloise was saying made perfect sense, as much as she hated it. And the last thing Penelope wanted to do was break Colin’s heart. The mere thought was unthinkable for her. And yet it was also unthinkable to let Cressida be the person she had loved being for so long.

‘Lady Whistledown is my name,’ she said fiercely. ‘Not hers.’

Eloise simply looked at her, unimpressed and unmoved. ‘Your name is about to be Bridgerton,’ she said.

Penelope’s expression faltered as a pause fell between them, and the two old friends simply gazed at one another.

‘Your name is about to be Bridgerton.’

There it was – a simple fact, yet it wasn’t simple at all, for it was also a dream come true for Penelope.

Eloise gave a small, sad smile. ‘You cannot be both,’ she said, shaking her head.

Penelope’s face fell, her bottom lip trembling slightly as she lowered her shining eyes, blinking away tears before they could fall. She knew that Eloise was right. Of course she knew that. But that didn’t make it easy to accept it.

She swallowed. ‘For much of my life...’ she said quietly, and she pressed her lips together, ‘being a part of your family is all I have wanted.’

She gazed at Eloise hopefully, but Eloise didn’t seem to be able to meet her eyes; instead, she looked away sadly and shook her head.

‘And there was a time I would have given anything to know Lady Whistledown,’ Eloise said, forcing herself to look back at Penelope, and she chuckled with a hint of both exasperation and bitterness.

A sad, soft smile crossed Penelope’s face as she watched her. As devastating as this conversation was, there was one good thing that seemed to be coming from it – Eloise was no longer looking at her with absolute disdain. On the contrary, she looked rather sympathetic. Emotional, even.

‘You had a good run for a while,’ Eloise said, her eyes watering slightly. ‘But it is just gossip. Let it go.’

Penelope’s eyes glistened as she stared at her in dismay. It wasn’t just gossip. It had never been about the gossip for her. But Eloise had already got up to take her leave before she could think of a response.

She watched in silence as Eloise walked back across the room and left, shutting the door behind her. Penelope then dropped her gaze to her ink-stained hand resting atop her quill and Whistledown portfolio. How could she possibly give it up? How could she let go of any of this? All the hard work she had put in? The thrill and pride she had got out of it? Lady Whistledown was a part of who she was. She loved writing – it was not just an achievement, it was her joy.

But, then again, how could she possibly put Colin through something so devastating when a solution had been presented to her to get her out of this torment? Colin was the love of her life; if Penelope did not discredit Cressida, then Colin would never have to learn the truth…and everything with Lady Whistledown would be behind them forever. She could enjoy her married life with Colin. No more lies. No more secrets. Perhaps Cressida’s bizarre decision last night had been a blessing in disguise, for she had given Penelope the perfect way out, to save everything she held dear with Colin.

And yet it still didn’t feel that way.

Penelope’s inner dilemma continued all through the rest of the day, into the night, and onto the next morning. Indeed, the entire next day was filled with nothing but turmoil as Penelope wracked her brains, knowing that she was about to make the most important decision of her life – and that she had to make it soon.

Colin had called to visit, of course, and they had spent an hour simply talking and holding hands on the stone bench in the Featherington garden. He had told her all about Francesca’s unexpected betrothal to Lord Kilmartin, and of Anthony and Kate’s pregnancy; Penelope was utterly delighted by both pieces of news. It had been so lovely, just to spend relaxed time with one another like that – even if Rae had been instructed by Portia to chaperone them. And yet still their time together had been tainted…and Penelope knew it always would be, for as long as she kept her secret identity hidden.

Since Colin had left, Penelope had been sat in her bedchamber for the rest of the day, reading through all her old Whistledown issues. A pile lay stacked beside her as she relaxed by the roaring fireplace, and she smiled faintly now as she looked another paper over. It was rather bittersweet, to read all her work of the past few years while knowing that this may very well be the end. If she followed Eloise’s advice, which she knew was the wisest option, then she would never publish again. It almost felt like she was saying goodbye to an old friend.

She wasn’t stupid; she knew that she couldn’t be a Bridgerton and Lady Whistledown at the same time. But she also knew that Eloise did not understand what she was asking of Penelope – Whistledown was not just gossip; it was the only voice Penelope could use to be heard and seen. Yes, it would save Colin from enormous pain, but it would also mean giving up a part of herself. Besides, even if she buried the truth, it would not stay buried forever. Nothing ever did. It just wasn’t fair; whatever choice she made would break her in two.

The door to her bedchamber then opened with a creak, and Penelope looked up at once. It was only then when she realised how dark it had become; night had fallen without her even noticing.

Her mother entered, looking rather confused. ‘What are you doing up here?’ she asked, closing the door behind her.

Penelope looked down with a sombre expression on her face as she fiddled anxiously with the paper in her hands. She did not want to speak to her mother. She had been acting uncharacteristically pleasant towards her recently, but Penelope still did not wish to speak with her.

‘Oh,’ Portia said, approaching and picking up one of the papers from the pile beside Penelope. ‘Reading old issues of Whistledown.’

‘I am still not feeling well,’ Penelope murmured, hoping that would be enough to make Portia leave her alone.

Alas, Portia seemed to see right through her. She didn’t know what was wrong with her daughter or what had caused her to swoon so dramatically on the night of the engagement party, but she certainly knew that no illness had struck her.

‘Penelope,’ Portia said exasperatedly.

Penelope glanced up at her mother, feeling rather small.

‘You have managed to capture the affections of a man of great name and means,’ Portia said, sitting down on the chair beside her. ‘You have the rest of your life to lie around and do nothing. But for now, until you walk down the aisle and settle into this marriage, your duty is to make Mr. Bridgerton feel as if he is the most important person in the world. To cater entirely to your husband.’

Penelope tried to take in her mother’s words of wisdom, but it was a struggle. Yes, Colin was the most important person in the world to her. But she did not wish to think of her ‘duty’ to cater to him. She did not wish for her marriage to her best friend to have anything to do with duty, in fact.

‘His dreams, his wishes,’ Portia continued wistfully, a smile on her face, before turning back to the Whistledown paper. ‘At least in the beginning.’

Penelope’s brow tightened. Clearly, her mother still didn’t believe in love or its part in a marriage. Penelope could accept that, she supposed. But what she was reluctant to accept was Portia’s evident view that only the husband mattered in this partnership.

She began to blink rapidly. ‘What about my dreams?’ she asked in a quiet voice.

Portia hesitated and slowly looked up at Penelope, as if confounded as to why anyone would ask such a question. Clearly, such a thought had never even crossed her mind before.

Her eyes darted around sceptically. ‘What dreams? Ladies do not have dreams. They have husbands,’ Portia said, rather glumly, and she titled her head. ‘And if you are lucky and you fulfil your role, sometimes what you wish for…may come true...through him.’

Penelope stared at her mother for a moment, feeling rather downcast, then dropped her gaze. Perhaps she had been naïve in thinking that a marriage with Colin would mean that the rest of her life and hobbies could go on as normal, simply because it was Colin. Perhaps all marriages simply meant having to give up a part of yourself, and that was just the way it was. The prospect of marriage had always been a goal that Penelope had striven for, a dream even, but now…now the thought of the details of what it entailed, of what it would mean for her as a person…well, it was rather depressing.

Portia’s smile dimmed as she watched Penelope, and she sighed deeply. ‘Your father could be cruel. A weak man,’ she said, and Penelope slowly looked up at her, surprised; Portia rarely spoke of her late father – or anything personal, in fact. ‘I chose a match for…security…and he could not even provide that.’

Penelope’s eyes shone in the firelight as she gazed at her mother, blinking, as if seeing Portia Featherington for the very first time. It was only now, hearing those words, that she realised what a difficult time her mother must have gone through with such a match, and the pain she must have carried for so many years. As much as their family had all loved Archibald, none of them had particularly, well, liked him. Then again, there was very little affection between any members of the Featherington household.

Or so Penelope thought.

‘But he gave me you girls,’ Portia said softly, reaching out to take Penelope’s hand. ‘And my greatest wish has always been for you three to do better than I did. And you have.’

Tears began to well in Penelope’s eyes as she gazed back at her mother, a hint of a small smile appearing on her face. Portia spoke with such sincerity, her eyes glistening, her smile rather emotional. It was the first time that Penelope thought that Portia did indeed care about her, perhaps even love her. It was the first time that Portia had been real.

Portia then leaned back. ‘You are lucky, Penelope. Do not take that for granted,’ she said gently.

The mother and daughter shared a long look, and as they did so it felt as if something monumental had changed between them, as if a new connection had been formed. And for one bizarre moment, Penelope felt grateful that Portia was her mother.

Portia gave Penelope a sympathetic smile, then got up and moved to the door. Penelope closed her tear-filled eyes as she breathed deeply, barely looking up as Portia departed, leaving her alone with only the crackle of the fire for company.

It was too hard. For so long, being Lady Whistledown had been a part of her soul, a hidden refuge where she could wield her wit and voice in a society that had so often overlooked her. She did not want to give that up. But, as much as it pained her to admit it, the thrill of seeing her words in print paled in comparison to the warmth of Colin’s love. And her mother was right – not every woman was fortunate enough to share the kind of love she had found with Colin.

Penelope had only ever known rejection her whole life, and she had seen Colin’s reactions to Lady Whistledown firsthand – his disdain, his anger, his utter lack of understanding that the sharp tongue he so often decried belonged to the woman he had held in his arms. The mere mention of Whistledown’s name was enough to darken his mood and bring a frown to his usually cheerful face. How could she ever hope to hold his love if he learnt the truth – if he knew that she, his Pen, had been the very source of the gossip and scandal he loathed?

Eloise’s suggestion yesterday had offered her a lifeline, the only solution that made sense and enabled her to keep the love of her life while avoiding the heartbreak of revealing her secret. Letting Cressida Cowper continue to take credit for Lady Whistledown was the easiest option. It was the only way that she could stay by Colin’s side without the shadow of all her lies and secrets hanging over them.

Her hand trembled slightly as it hovered over the familiar stack of Whistledown papers on her lap, her eyes tracing the elegant script that had once brought her so much satisfaction. The pearl ring on her finger glinted softly in the firelight; she could feel the delicate weight of it, of the future she longed to embrace. She gazed at the ring and flexed her hand before letting it fall gently on top of the Whistledown papers. Those papers were anchoring her to the past, and yet it was a past she knew she had to relinquish if she was to have any hope of true happiness.

Penelope knew what must come first. She could live without being Lady Whistledown – but she couldn’t live without Colin, not anymore, not after knowing what it felt like to love him completely and be loved by him in return. The thought of losing him was a pain too great to bear, far worse than the loss of Whistledown, and she knew that she would choose a life with him over anything; it was not even a matter of debate. But that didn’t make it any less devastating.

She drew in a deep breath, willing herself to remain composed, to not let the tears that pricked at the corners of her eyes fall. Crying would solve nothing, after all. Sniffling, she hastily wiped a finger beneath her eye and stared into the fire, resting her chin on her hand as she focused on the dancing flames before her.

Penelope sighed. It wasn’t what she wanted. What she wanted was to have it all – to have the thrill of being Lady Whistledown, and to be Colin’s beloved wife. But the world was not so kind, and the two could not coexist. One would always come at the expense of the other, and the choice, though devastating, was clear.

At the end of the day, Penelope wanted to be happy – truly happy – with the love of her life. She couldn’t possibly achieve that if Lady Whistledown remained in the picture, always lurking in the shadows, a secret waiting to unravel their life together. So, her decision was clear. Penelope would let Cressida Cowper continue her charade. She would let her revel in the attention and notoriety. She would let her bask in the false glory of a name that was never hers to begin with, while Penelope would step back and fade into the background, as she had done for so many years before.

But this time, she would not do so as a wallflower yearning to be seen. She would do so as a woman who had chosen a future with the man she adored over the thrill of a secret life.

Penelope closed her eyes for a moment, letting the weight of her decision settle upon her before she finally opened them again and stared into the fire. And, as she folded the Whistledown papers in her lap for the last time, Penelope felt a bittersweet relief wash over her.

She had made her choice, and now, she must live with it. It was the only way.

Chapter Text

Kate and Anthony (with a very excited Newton) departed for Aubrey Hall a couple of days later, for Kate to rest – and for Anthony to dote on her like a nurse while excitedly designing the nursery for their future child. After the Bridgertons had bid them farewell, Colin and Benedict decided to take John Stirling out for a drink at Will Mondrich’s club, partly so that they could get to know their future brother-in-law a bit better, and partly so that they could support their friend Will during this rather bittersweet time; he and his wife had made the reluctant decision to close the club, given their new standing in society.

The night grew heavy with the scent of tobacco and lingering whiskey, the dim light from the wall sconces casting long shadows across the empty club. Colin drank quite a bit, but simply to enjoy the fun they were having, which was a sharp contrast to his excessive indulges when he had used to venture out at night with Lords Wilding, Stanton and Fife. He was so very glad that he had finally seen sense about those men and cut them from his life. His own brother and Will Mondrich were far better friends than any of them had the capacity of being – and even John, as shy and reserved as he was, instantly made a good impression. He was a warm, kind, thoughtful soul, and Colin couldn’t be happier that Francesca was going to marry such a man.

As the night wore on, Colin even felt comfortable enough to confide in the three of them about his writing, something he never would have dared talk to any other men about before. He expressed his frustration at not having been able to write a single sentence; he blamed it on love making him simple, which was in part true – Penelope utterly consumed his thoughts. It had only been a day since he had last seen her, and he knew that in just over three weeks’ time he would have the rest of his life to see her each and every day, but he already missed her terribly. It was as if he had lost all control, and was utterly at the mercy of the all-consuming love and fire that burned in his heart for her.

But he also knew that it was something else preventing him from being able to contribute a single decent word to his new manuscript. He had been inspired briefly the other day, when writing about Penelope’s debut to society, but ever since then his attempts at writing anything decent had been torturous, and it was entirely his own insecurities he had to blame for it. He knew that Penelope cared for him, he had no doubts about that…and she’d seemed delighted by the betrothal ring, so she clearly still wanted to marry him…but there was still that nagging voice at the back of his mind telling him that she did not feel as he did.

With the last drops of whiskey consumed, their group collectively decided that they should call it a night and begin the task of tidying up. The time had come to close the establishment for the very last time.

Will and Benedict moved about the club, quietly stacking chairs and wiping down tables. The once vibrant space, previously alive with laughter and camaraderie and the clinking of glasses, now felt like a ghost of its former self.

Colin lingered by the bar, lost in a world of his own, his brow furrowed as he absentmindedly rolled an empty glass between his fingers. It seemed his anxious state of mind did not go unnoticed, for John soon approached him with a concerned look. He hovered to the side for a moment before speaking.

‘Is everything all right, Mr. Bridgerton?’ John’s voice was gentle but probing as he tilted his head at Colin curiously.

Colin blinked, snapping out of his reverie, and managed a faint smile. ‘You are joining our family – you must call me Colin, please.’

‘Very well. Colin,’ John said, though his expression remained serious. ‘Only, you seemed a little distracted tonight. I know I do not know you well, but I…I know all too well the signs.’

Colin hesitated, his defences slowly crumbling. ‘Perhaps you are right,’ he said with a sigh. ‘I confess my mind has been a little… preoccupied recently.’

John tilted his head slightly, his concern deepening. ‘Is all well?’ he asked.

Colin hesitated, the words catching in his throat before he finally let them out. ‘I…that is the problem. I do not know if it is,’ he said in a low voice, as if afraid that admitting the thought aloud would make it more real. ‘Penelope and I are happy, we are the closest of friends…but I suppose our relationship has shifted into this new territory, and I…I do not think Penelope is quite sure about it. Or about me. And I would not blame her, I do not understand what she could possibly see in…’

His voice trailed off, a sigh escaping him as he shook his head and gripped the glass a little tighter.

‘She had a perfectly good match before,’ he went on, sounding strained. ‘Lord Debling was everything a young lady could seek for in a husband, and then I swarmed in and…-’

‘Because you love her,’ John interjected firmly, as though the simple truth of it could settle the matter.

‘Yes, but is that good enough? Does that justify…?’ Colin shook his head, his frustration palpable. ‘She is keeping something from me. She acted so oddly at our betrothal party, something was wrong and…I do not know what it is.’

His arms slumped down awkwardly, and he sighed. As Colin’s words hung in the air, he felt a strange, unexpected sense of relief. Speaking his fears aloud, even to someone he hardly knew, was like a weight lifting from his chest. He hadn’t anticipated confiding in John, but there was something comforting about the Earl’s calm demeanour. Perhaps he was exactly the confidant he needed.

John nodded thoughtfully before he spoke.  ‘May I speak freely?’

‘Please do,’ Colin replied, his eyes searching John’s face for some semblance of reassurance; he was eager for any insight that might quell the unease gnawing at him.

‘Whatever Miss Featherington is concealing from you, if indeed she even is…then it would only be for a very good reason, and undoubtedly for your own benefit,’ John said, his tone gentle but resolute. ‘I have only met your betrothed once, but it was as clear as the nose on your face just how deeply she loves you. You are…what keeps her world turning.’

As Colin looked at John and let the words sink in, he felt his heart lifting slightly, as if the seed of doubt in his mind had begun to wither.

‘Do you really think so?’ he asked in a small, hopeful voice.

‘I know it,’ John assured him, with quiet conviction. ‘So please, try not to trouble yourself with it. She chose you. She will tell you of her struggles when she is ready, and in the meantime…you should not doubt or worry, for her love for you is incontrovertible. Instead, you should enjoy this period – the engagement. I know I certainly will with my own fiancé.’

A genuine smile broke through Colin’s troubled expression, the knot in his stomach slowly loosening. ‘You speak words of wisdom. Thank you, Lord Kilmartin,’ he said, before pausing, then adding warmly, ‘John.’

John returned the smile, a silent understanding passing between them.

They then turned their attention back to the empty, spotless club and Will and Benedict, who were finishing up the last of the cleaning. As the last chair was set atop a table and the bar wiped down for the final time, Will nodded to Benedict, who returned the gesture with a sombre smile. The air in the room had changed; it felt like the end of an era was upon them. The night’s revelry had ended, and now, so too did Will’s time as a club owner.

Will then paused as he looked around the club. ‘Well…that’s it then,’ he said quietly, and Benedict clapped a hand on his shoulder.

With a final glance around, Will moved to the door, Benedict following closely behind. Colin and John joined them, and the four men stepped out into the cool night air together. The heavy door creaked as it was pulled shut for the last time, the click of the lock echoing in the quiet street, the club’s final chapter closed.

As they walked away, the streets of London unusually still under the starry sky, Colin felt a newfound sense of optimism. John was right – he needed to stop worrying about what might be nothing and instead simply enjoy this exciting time with Penelope. It was a joyous occasion that would only happen once, after all, and she was his best friend. He would be damned before he let his pathetic paranoia ruin that.

So, as Colin sauntered tipsily back to Bridgerton House with Benedict, he found himself giggling with excitement, feeling lighter than ever and resolved to embrace the happiness that lay ahead, with his beloved Pen by his side.

***

St. George’s Church, with its whitewashed walls and elegant spire, stood majestically against the backdrop of the sunlit cityscape. Near the entryway, white roses bloomed in full glory, their petals unfurling in delicate layers and filling the air with a sweet, subtle fragrance. Members of the ton gathered outside the church, dressed in their finest attire as they chatted away about society’s latest events and gossip while the tolling of the church bells resonated through the streets, a sonorous invitation to the day’s service.

Once inside, everyone filled the pews and sat with their respective families; the Bridgertons sat across the aisle and slightly behind the Featheringtons, but Colin was glad that he had at least wasn’t too far away from Penelope – today was a special day for them, after all: the reading of the banns, where their names and upcoming nuptials would be declared before everyone.

Sunlight streamed through the stained-glass windows as the respected, white-wigged reverend, Minister Hughes, stepped to the front. His voice, rich and resonant, filled the sanctuary as he addressed the gathered assembly. The congregation listened intensely as he spoke of love and unity, his gaze sweeping across the attentive faces filling the pews.

‘This is the Word of the Lord. Thanks be to God,’ Minister Hughes rang out, his voice deep and authoritative. ‘Now, today, I publish the banns of marriage between Mr. Colin Bridgerton and Miss Penelope Featherington.’

Colin looked down at his lap, where his fingers lay fidgeting, unable to stop his lips from twitching giddily as he let the Minister’s words resonate with him. He glanced up just in time to see Penelope, sat across from him with her family on the other side of the aisle, turning around to catch his eye. She gave him an adoring smile before blushing and turning back around. Colin smirked; it was nice to see her looking so excited by the reading of their banns, especially after he had been clouded with so many doubts about her feelings on the matter.

Penelope couldn’t keep the beam off her face as she listened to the Minister read the banns. Her heart was doing a giddy little leap; it was nerve-wracking to hear her name read out, particularly when she had never expected such a thing to happen to her, and incredibly thrilling.

Minister Hughes then continued in his slow, powerful voice. ‘This is the first time of asking. If any of you know cause or just impediment why these two persons should not be joined together in Holy Matrimony...’ – Penelope’s breath quickened and she glanced down at once, her smile wiped from her face – ‘…ye are to declare it.’

She knew of a just cause for why she and Colin should not be married, and so did Eloise. A marriage should never be built on lies or secrets, after all.

But she said nothing, and neither did Eloise. In fact, the entire church remained deadly silent, much to her relief.

Penelope glanced back over at Colin. Clearly sensing her uneasiness as he met her gaze, Colin theatrically tugged at his collar and pulled a daft face, his eyes twinkling with amusement. A surge of warmth spread through Penelope as she grinned at him. She then looked back down at her lap and pressed her lips together, for she knew that if she kept watching him, she would burst out laughing. How lucky she was to have someone to know exactly how to cheer her up and make her laugh at times when she needed it the most.

‘Very well,’ Minister Hughes said, satisfied by the silent response.

Colin began to beam as he watched Penelope and he looked down, blushing; he loved nothing more than to make her smile and laugh. It was the best feeling in the world.

‘Mr. Bridgerton and Miss Featherington shall be married here in three weeks’ time,’ Minister Hughes declared, and Penelope felt butterflies form in her stomach; it really was a dream come true.

Minister Hughes continued to speak for some time, but Penelope barely registered the rest of the banns or service; she was too dazed and giddy that this wedding was truly happening. She was to marry Colin Bridgerton in this very church in merely three weeks’ time. How could that be possible?

‘That brings me to the end of my words today,’ Minister Hughes said, suddenly jolting Penelope back to her senses, and he gestured his arms out wide to them all. ‘Now, go forth in peace to love and serve the Lord.’

The service then concluded; the assembly rose, stepped into the aisle and began to move towards the church door.

As everyone began to head outside, Penelope caught Colin’s eye as he stepped out into the aisle, an adorable sheepish grin spreading on his face as he ducked his head, and her heart skipped a beat. She wanted a private word with him before they all convened together outside. She knew that he had sensed something was wrong with her these past few days, ever since the betrothal party, and not just her fake illness that she was quite certain he hadn’t been convinced by – she had to reassure him that all was now well. It was the very least she could do after the turmoil she had put him through at their engagement celebration.

Penelope paused and turned to her mother. ‘I will join you in a moment,’ she said, glancing pointedly over at Colin; Portia looked at him, nodded in understanding, and led the rest of the Featherington clan away.

The others all filed out of the church, leaving Colin and Penelope standing in the centre of the aisle.

Colin smiled as he approached her. ‘It is good to see you looking well,’ he said.

‘Well’ was putting it mildly. Her hair was divine and curly, her cheeks were extra rosy, her blue dress was beautiful and ever so slightly lower-necked than usual, and the betrothal ring he had given her was sparkling on her finger. But it was not just that; Penelope’s eyes held genuine warmth and joy today, as if she was no longer afraid or preoccupied, and her lips were formed in a lovely smile as she gazed at him. Unless it was just wishful thinking on his part, Colin was fairly certain that whatever had been troubling her before seemed to have passed, and she was the very picture of perfection.

‘I am feeling much better,’ Penelope said, smiling up at him.

She realised then that she spoke the truth; her mother and Eloise had helped her make her choice regarding what to do about Lady Whistledown, and now that she had done so…well, it was extremely liberating, and a huge relief.

‘And soon, we shall officially be married,’ Colin said, tilting his head at her playfully, but then he dipped his chin, averting his gaze. ‘If you will still have me?’

In his mind, they were already practically married – they had been ever since the carriage, just not formally. But that did not stop him from doubting whether Penelope still wished for that formality to go ahead.

Penelope gazed up at him incredulously; she had never heard anything more ridiculous in her entire life. What on earth would possess him to even say such a thing?

‘Colin, in what world would I not?’ she said, tilting her head at him.

She was utterly baffled. How could he be the one doubting whether his feelings and commitment were shared? It had never occurred to her that he would be insecure about such a thing, that he truly had no idea how long she had loved him for.

‘Mm,’ Colin said, his lips twitching at her response, but his smile faltered slightly as he glanced over at the remaining members of the ton departing the church, and he turned back to her. ‘I know there is something you have been…meaning to tell me.’

Penelope’s face slowly fell, and she looked up at him, her eyes frantically searching his face, both of their expressions suddenly serious. Colin looked concerned, almost fearful, as he gazed back at her, trying to read whatever it was she was thinking.

Penelope felt awful. It was only then, in that moment, that she truly understood what she had been putting him through ever since their betrothal party. He really had no idea that his name was carved on her heart. Penelope had known from that the very first day they me, in the wind and the mud, that she loved him, with absolute certainty. But she had never showed how much she needed him, how much she yearned for him to be hers. Now, at last, she could show him that, without a hint of reservation. She did not have to worry about him knowing anymore, because this was it. The two of them, together, until they were grey and old. What had once been a far-fetched, childish dream had now become a bizarre reality. Penelope could still hardly wrap her head around it – even now, in the church where their engagement banns had just been read out and where they were soon to be wed.

At last, she had let go of the one obstacle that had been holding her back from expressing all of this from the moment they had become engaged. It was as if a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders – without Lady Whistledown hanging over her, she could now give her heart over to him completely.

Penelope’s voice was filled with emotion when she next spoke. ‘In fact, there is something I have been meaning to tell you for a very long time,’ she said, her gaze never leaving his.

Colin regarded her with a serious expression. Oh God, what is she going to say? Was I right to be worried all this time?

What Penelope said next was the very last thing he had been expecting to hear:

‘That I have loved you…since the moment we met.’

She sounded almost tearful as she said the words, but she did not care, for it felt so good, so right, to say them.

Colin gazed at her, stunned, and his expression softened. He could feel his shoulders relaxing at once and his chest fill with warm relief. He did not know what to say, or even think. What did Penelope mean? Could it be true? Had she really loved him since the day he had fallen off his horse in front of her? Had he really been so blind for so long?

‘An embarrassingly long time, really. Even the years I pretended to be your friend, I was, but...I loved you in secret,’ Penelope said, blinking rapidly as her eyes welled up and she gazed up at him, smiling with trembling lips. ‘I have always loved you, Colin.’

They had both been so young, Penelope particularly, when they had first met. And yet she had known even then, the moment she had clapped eyes on him as he’d landed in the mud so spectacularly, that that was it for her. There had been magic in the air, making the birds sing and turning her winter into spring in an instant. The whole world had turned upside down for little Penelope that day.

She hadn’t known that her love for Colin would be difficult and hopeless and unrequited for so long…she hadn’t known that she would grow tired of waiting for him, that her faith in him would fade…but she also certainly hadn’t known that he would come to love her and cherish her and make her feel such indescribable joy and pleasure, to make all that pain and pining worth it. She could never have imagined that their story would have turned out like this. It was better than anything a dream or novel could come up with. It was still hard to believe that it was true.

Colin gazed at her, still hardly able to comprehend what she was saying, and then his smile brightened. For days, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Penelope’s odd behaviour, how she had avoided his gaze, how unwell she had been feeling, the undeniable secret she hadn’t dared tell him…He never would have predicted that the very secret she had been keeping had been about the fact that she had always loved him. It made him feel rather sheepish. It was just too huge for him to grasp.

He chuckled softly as he tried to think of how he could possibly respond to her confession, when he could barely even process the wonder of it yet. He was completely lost for words. He felt touched, yet also somehow embarrassed. How could she have loved him for so long? Him?!

Although deeply moved, Colin tried to restrain himself and contain his huge smile; he understood the weight of Penelope’s words, of how much it must have taken for her to say such things. This must have been what had been bothering her all along; she looked so relieved, as if she had let everything go. As if she was free.

He then bowed his head rather bashfully, feeling simultaneously overjoyed and ashamed. How could he have missed something so huge throughout the entire duration of their friendship? How much pain had he caused her by not seeing her, by the comment she had overheard him say at the Featherington Ball last season? What a fool he had been, for wasting all this precious time they could have already had together, if only he had known how she had felt…and how he himself had felt. At least he had plenty of time to make up for that now.

He then took both of her hands gently in his and gazed deeply into her eyes. ‘I will spend a lifetime begging your forgiveness for not seeing you sooner,’ he said, raising his eyebrows earnestly.

His heart was both swelling and sinking at the same time. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t noticed, that he must have made her feel so wretched by treating her only as a platonic friend for so many years. She had waited so long for him to wake up. Was he truly worth it? Colin couldn’t be sure.

But Penelope shook her head. ‘There is no need,’ she reassured him. ‘There is nothing in the world that makes me happier than being with you.’

She knew it was all he needed to hear, that this was all that mattered going forward – just him and her, together.

A buoyant beam crossed Colin’s face as he gazed at her rather giddily; it lit Penelope up inside just to see such a joyful expression – a huge toothy grin that he rarely showed in public, for he had lost all control of himself in light of this revelation.

She realised in that moment that losing Whistledown was a worthy sacrifice indeed. Her decision had freed her; she no longer had to fear Colin or dread telling him her secret, for that secret was in the past and meaningless now. She could look into Colin’s eyes again, without any fear or reservation, and truly enjoy her happiness with him. It was a joyous feeling.

Colin chuckled softly, his heart racing; he was utterly overwhelmed by Penelope’s words. All the doubts that had plagued him vanished in an instant, replaced by a joy so profound he felt as though he might burst. He was so giddy, he didn’t even know what to do with himself.

She does wish to marry me! She does love me…and has done for a very long time!

Just for Penelope to hold him close and say those words, with such adoration in her gaze and her smile, made Colin happier than he had ever felt in his entire life. Everything made sense now that each day was all about Penelope. She made his life worthwhile. He would do anything for her and grant any wish she had, just to make her happy. At least he knew he had the rest of his life to accomplish that.

Colin could not quite contemplate just how lucky he was, to have fallen in love so completely and irrevocably with his best friend, the one who made life so much easier during its dark days, the one who held and grounded him, the one he had always kept with him in his heart for far longer than he had realised.

She was all he could see. She was his entire world. And she was his.

He was so overwhelmed and overjoyed that he wanted nothing more than to hold her and kiss her right now in this very moment – but he knew he couldn’t. Not when they were in a church, at least. So, he had to improvise and rely on the next best thing.

Colin glanced towards the door, relieved to see that the church was now empty apart from the two of them, then slowly rested his hand at her waist.

‘Colin, what are you doing?’ Penelope asked anxiously, glancing around to make sure that no one could see as he lifted her other hand up.

And then, to her astonishment, he began to spin her around in the middle of the aisle.

He couldn’t gather his words and thoughts right now, so the only way he could think of showing her his love and joy was in the way they had always known, something familiar and special to them: dancing.

‘Mm, dancing with my future wife in the church where we will be married,’ Colin said, barely able to hide his glee as they danced around, and they both chuckled as they gazed at each other.

It was unheard of, to break decorum and act in such a way – away from a ball, with no music, and no guests. And in the middle of a church, no less. It was so unproper, and yet neither of them cared. They were too happy and giddy to care about any of that.

Penelope was elated. The world felt like such a heavenly place whenever she danced in Colin’s arms, but now more so than ever. It was the most precious moment in her life, and she wished she had the ability to simply stop time and stay in it forever. How could anything be better than twirling around the church with her adorable, lovestruck, soon-to-be husband? It was as if they were dancing on a cloud.

Unable to contain himself, Colin twirled Penelope around, and then again, before pulling her in close. As they swayed together in the middle of the aisle, Penelope intertwined their hands and pressed them against his chest, her fingers warm against his beating heart. Colin gazed at their clasped hands with tender eyes, savouring the way her fingers fit perfectly between his. He then looked into her eyes, vowing silently, with every beat of his heart, that he would love her for the rest of his life.

Neither of them could believe that this was real. It felt far too good to be true. They were lost in each other, the rest of the world forgotten, as they swayed gently on the spot.

‘Were you ever punished as a child?’ Penelope asked, gazing up at him in awe and bemusement.

Colin pretended to ponder the question, his brow furrowing in mock thoughtfulness.

They both laughed adorably as they continued to sway together, neither of them able to take their eyes off one another.

‘I shall have you know, I was raised to be a perfect gentleman,’ Colin said, his lips curling into a teasing smile. ‘I cannot help it if I have been able to get away with breaking the rules from time to time.’

Penelope laughed, a sweet, melodious sound that made Colin’s heart swell. ‘You are far too charming for your own good, you know. Always magically able to avoid trouble,’ she said, shaking her head at him with an exasperated smile on her face.

‘Oh, not always. There was that one time I was scolded for sneaking sweets from the kitchen,’ Colin said, his grin widening as Penelope laughed again.

‘Colin,’ she said fondly, shaking her head, and he chuckled. ‘You’re incorrigible. But I wouldn’t have you any other way.’

They swayed together a little longer as they gazed tenderly into one another’s eyes, neither of them willing to let go of this moment. Finally, with a soft sigh, Colin tilted his head towards the church entrance.

‘Shall we?’ Colin said, as their swaying came to a reluctant stop. ‘Before they send a search party for us?’

Penelope giggled and squeezed his hand. ‘A wise idea.’

Hand in hand, they began to walk down the aisle, Penelope pressing her arm right up against his chest as if she needed to be as close to him as possible. They kept throwing giddy glances at each other every few steps, their faces glowing.

‘This is really happening,’ Penelope said as they walked along the aisle, her voice filled with awe, her eyes shining. ‘We really are doing this.’

‘We really are,’ Colin said, his gaze soft and adoring as he looked down at her and squeezed her hand more firmly.

For a moment, he couldn’t believe that this was his reality – his best friend whom he loved was finally his, and she had loved him all along. He longed to kiss her, but they were in a sacred church; he could not give into temptation, it wouldn’t be right.

But when they reached the front doors, Colin simply could not help himself; without thinking, he swiftly bent down and pressed a quick, playful kiss to Penelope’s cheek. Penelope gasped, scandalised but unable to hide her laughter, and her cheeks flushed a deep pink as she gazed up at him in delight.

Chuckling fondly, Colin then led them outside and they stepped out into the bright sunlight, where the rest of the congregation were mingling and their families waited for them below in the courtyard.

Colin squeezed Penelope’s hand and took a deep breath as they paused on the church terrace, letting the enormity of the moment settle over him. His heart was soaring; they were finally on the same page, and any doubts and reservations had vanished. As they stood there, side by side, Colin glanced at Penelope, her eyes reflecting the same blissful contentment he felt, and a huge beam spread across his face. For the first time in his life, he knew without a doubt that everything would be all right. They had chosen each other, wholly and completely, and nothing could take that away – after all, nothing could possibly go wrong for them now.

Chapter Text

Outside the church, the sunlight continued to shine brightly, reflecting off the white façade of the church and illuminating the scene with a warm, inviting glow. The scent of white roses lingered in the air as members of the ton milled about, exchanging pleasantries and engaging in animated discussions about the service, the season, and the latest societal news.

Colin and Penelope walked down the church steps arm-in-arm, smiling away. Colin was still in a bit of a daze after Penelope’s confession to him inside the church.

‘What is it?’ Penelope asked, smiling fondly up at Colin.

‘N-nothing, I am just…I am still thinking about what you said,’ Colin admitted, a warm expression on his face.

Penelope smirked. ‘I hope I have not scared you off.’

‘Pen, no, that is not…’ Colin said, and they both laughed. ‘I am just amazed, that is all. Why ever did you not say anything?’

‘How could I? You were my friend, you did not see me in that way,’ Penelope pointed out. ‘If I had declared myself, I would have risked losing you.’

‘Never,’ Colin said firmly, and they paused on the steps as he grasped both her hands tightly in his. ‘You could never have lost me, Pen. We have always been made for one another…I was just too much of a blind fool to see it before.’

Penelope smiled with trembling lips, touched, and she reached up to sweep her hand over a loose curl of hair on his forehead. ‘What made that change? Out of interest?’ she asked.

Colin paused, deep in thought, as they resumed walking down the church steps. ‘I…I cannot pick an exact moment when it began. Only when I realised it,’ he said, and he flashed her a playful smile. ‘Our kiss in your garden.’

Penelope blushed. ‘I still cannot believe I asked you to do that.’

‘Nor I,’ he said, chuckling. ‘But I am so very glad you did.’

Penelope caressed his hand. ‘So am I,’ she said softly.

Unable to help themselves, they began to lean in towards each other by instinct, only to then be distracted as Minister Hughes approached them at the bottom of the steps. They leaned apart quickly, flustered.

‘May I offer you my sincere congratulations on your betrothal,’ Minister Hughes said kindly.

‘Thank you, Minister,’ Colin said.

‘I hear the two of you are old friends?’

‘Yes, we met when we were children,’ Penelope said, smiling.

‘Ah, how charming,’ Minister Hughes said. ‘In my experience, the most successful marriages are built on friendship. You are both very lucky in that regard.’

‘Yes,’ Colin said, turning to Penelope with a fond smile. ‘We certainly are.’

They squeezed each other’s hand, and Penelope rubbed his arm gently. She had been smiling so much today that her cheeks were practically aching, but she did not mind. It was a most wonderful position to be in, after all.

 ‘Now, I have my parishioners to see to, but I shall see you both at the next reading of the banns next Sunday,’ Minister Hughes said, ‘and I expect I shall be speaking to both your mothers in due course regarding the details of the ceremony.’

‘You certainly shall. We look forward to it,’ Colin said, bowing his head. ‘Thank you, Minister Hughes.’

Once they had all bid farewell, Colin and Penelope approached Violet and Lady Danbury, who were stood chatting nearby in the courtyard.

Violet’s face lit up the moment she saw them both. ‘Ah,’ she said, chuckling in delight, holding her arms out.

‘Aww,’ Lady Danbury said, a huge smile on her face as she took in the sight of the happy couple.

‘Come here,’ Violet said, and Penelope made an excited little squealing noise as she hurried into Violet’s waiting arms. ‘Oh, my dear.’

Lady Danbury stroked Colin’s arm, smiling, and Colin beamed proudly as he watched his mother and future bride embrace. It was one thing to see Violet approve of his choice of wife, but to see her truly love Penelope and see her as one of their own already was the best thing he could ever have wished for – for himself, but also for Penelope, who had had little experience of such familial affection.

‘Wasn’t that wonderful?’ Violet said gleefully as she and Penelope broke apart.

‘Yes!’ Penelope agreed, still rather giddy from the banns reading.

She felt as if she were floating on air; the reality of the situation had still not yet fully sunk in. The prospect of her and Colin’s imminent marriage, now publicly declared, filled her with a thrill she could hardly contain.

Lady Danbury appeared more delighted than either Colin or Penelope had ever seen her. ‘Oh, you look marvellous!’ she said excitedly to Penelope, glancing back and forth between her and Colin.

Penelope laughed; it was the most musical, enchanting sound that made Colin’s smile grow and grow until he was quite certain his cheeks might burst. He gazed at her adoringly, marvelling at how her happiness seemed to radiate outwards, enveloping everyone around them.

‘Quite the picture of a happy couple, if I may say so,’ Lady Danbury said, her smile wide and genuine. ‘I daresay the two of you might make even the Queen herself a touch envious.’

‘You are too kind, Lady Danbury,’ Penelope said, her cheeks flushing.

‘Lady Danbury is right,’ Violet said fondly, placing a gentle hand on Penelope’s arm. ‘My dear Penelope, I always knew you would make the perfect bride for Colin. The banns reading was just the beginning! Can you imagine the wedding day itself?’

Penelope glanced up at Colin and they both giggled, unable to contain their excitement.

‘Oh, I can imagine it quite vividly, Lady Bridgerton,’ Lady Danbury said with a twinkle in her eye. ‘It shall be the event of the season, no doubt.’

Penelope pressed her smiling lips together as she held Colin’s arm and gazed up at him adoringly. ‘I must say, I do feel rather overjoyed today, thanks to all this excitement,’ she said, beaming at them all.

‘And so you should,’ Lady Danbury said, her tone warm and approving as Colin rested his hand over hers on his arm. ‘Happiness becomes you, my dear.’

‘Indeed, it does,’ Violet said, stepping closer to them with a proud smile. ‘Everyone in the ton can see how perfectly matched you two are.’

Colin chuckled and wrapped his arm around Penelope. ‘I am inclined to agree with you, Mother. Penelope has brought out the very best in me.’

‘And you in me,’ Penelope murmured, her gaze soft as she looked up at him, and the world around them seemed to fade away for a moment, leaving only the two of them in their own private bubble of joy.

Lady Danbury’s cane tapped the ground lightly as she cleared her throat. ‘Well, I shall allow you two lovebirds to bask in your joy for a while longer,’ she said.

She winked at Violet, who stifled a chuckle, before stepping forward and looping her arm through Penelope’s.

‘But first, a word with the bride-to-be,’ Lady Danbury said, rather briskly, and Penelope eyed her in surprise.

As Colin turned to discuss some wedding ceremony details with his mother, Lady Danbury led Penelope a short distance away to a quieter corner of the courtyard, her expression softening as they moved away from the crowd.

‘I am afraid I did not have the opportunity to congratulate you properly at your betrothal party the other night, Miss Featherington,’ Lady Danbury began, her tone slightly more serious. ‘I confess I was somewhat…distracted by another matter. As I gather you were as well.’

Penelope’s heart skipped a beat, a flicker of panic rising in her chest. Did Lady Danbury somehow know her secret? She wouldn’t put it past her – Lady Danbury always seemed to know everything, after all.

‘I-I am not sure what you mean, Lady Danbury,’ she said, trying to act convincingly oblivious.

Lady Danbury’s eyes narrowed slightly, but her voice was kind when she spoke. ‘Well, I could not help noticing that you did not seem yourself that evening. And I am speaking of before you fell ill. But I take it all has been…remedied?’ she said, raising her splendid eyebrows. ‘You seem content now.’

Penelope felt the tension in her chest ease slightly. ‘Yes. All is well,’ she replied, nodding. ‘Th-thank you, Lady Danbury.’

Lady Danbury studied her for a long moment, her expression inscrutable. Penelope was fascinated – few people ever truly noticed her in the way that Lady Danbury did, which was impressive given that they did not even know one another particularly well. That had always been Lady Danbury’s gift, though; she knew everyone in the ton inside out through simple observation. No wonder Eloise had once suspected her of being Lady Whistledown.

Penelope then caught sight of her mother approaching, with an unusually warm expression on her face. ‘Penelope,’ Portia called out, ‘we must be going, there are still many preparations to be made.’

Penelope nodded. ‘Of course,’ she called back, before turning back to Lady Danbury. ‘Thank you again, Lady Danbury. I shall see you soon.’

Lady Danbury inclined her head with a knowing look. ‘My pleasure, my dear. Now, go and enjoy these next few weeks.’

Penelope beamed. ‘I will.’

Portia had drifted over to try and engage Violet in conversation about the upcoming nuptials – to Penelope’s bemusement, she still seemed extremely eager to be friendly with the Bridgertons – so Penelope headed in their direction, until a gentle hand caught her arm, pulling her aside. Colin’s familiar warmth enveloped her, and she turned to face him, her breath catching in her throat.

‘Pen, before you go,’ Colin said softly, his eyes tender. ‘I just wanted to say I… I cannot wait to call you my wife.’

Penelope’s heart swelled with joy, and she squeezed his hand. ‘And I cannot wait to call you my husband,’ she whispered back, trying to contain her giddiness.

They shared a tender smile, and for a brief moment, it felt as though the entire world had stilled.

‘Three weeks,’ Penelope said softly, almost to herself.

‘Three weeks,’ Colin echoed, the anticipation in his voice unmistakable.

She glanced up at him, her eyes sparkling with both excitement and mischief. ‘I am not sure…I want to wait that long until I…see our new home again,’ she said, her cheeks reddening.

Colin’s lips curved into a knowing smile, the memory of their recent visit to the apartment flooding his mind. The day had been nothing short of life-altering.

‘You wish for another…tour of the apartment?’ he asked in a playful tone of voice.

‘I do,’ Penelope replied, her voice soft yet resolute.

He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against her skin. ‘Well, I must say, my mind has been on our first tour quite a bit recently,’ he murmured.

‘As has mine,’ she admitted, her cheeks flushing at the memory.

Unfortunately, their moment was then abruptly interrupted by the sharp voice of Portia calling Penelope over.

Colin sighed, his hand reluctant to let hers go. ‘We shall revisit this conversation another time,’ he said, a teasing promise in his tone of voice.

Penelope chuckled softly, her heart lighter than it had been in years.

‘Before you go…’ Colin’s voice trailed off as he quickly led her behind a nearby carriage, his eyes darting around to ensure no one was watching.

He then bent down and pressed his lips tenderly to hers, taking Penelope by surprise. When he pulled away, they were both beaming.

‘I shall see you later,’ he promised, his voice a hushed caress.

Penelope nodded, her lips trembling with the effort not to giggle and squeal loudly. He kissed the top of her hand, then left; her heart raced as she watched him retreat to rejoin his family. As she turned to join her mother, sisters, and brothers-in-law, she glanced back one last time, her heart soaring at the thought of the future that awaited them both.

The journey back to Bridgerton House was a blur for Colin, his thoughts consumed by Penelope’s earlier confession.

‘I have loved you since the moment we met.’

He was still dazed by the weight of her words; it was as if the very foundation of his world had shifted. Yet, amidst this whirlwind of emotions, he noticed that Francesca sat beside him was quieter than usual – even for her – with a certain sombreness clouding her features.

When the carriage pulled up in front of Bridgerton House and the family began to disembark, Colin gently held Francesca back, the gravel crunching beneath their feet as they lingered in the driveway.

‘Sister? Does something trouble you?’ he asked gently, his brow furrowing in concern.

Francesca sighed, her gaze downcast. ‘Mama is so happy for you and Penelope – which, of course, is as it should be. I only wish she had half as much joy for John and I,’ she said in a rather small voice. ‘I am not sure why she is so…hesitant about our match.”

Colin’s expression softened. ‘She is fully supportive of Lord Kilmartin, I assure you. She just…has known Penelope for a much longer time, that is all. But she will adore him in no time, of that I am certain,’ he said earnestly. ‘If he makes you happy and if you love him, then that is all that matters.’

Francesca looked up at her brother, a small smile tugging at her lips. ‘He does. I do. Thank you, Brother.’

‘I am very fond of him, you know,’ Colin added, smiling warmly. ‘He shall make a fine additional brother, indeed.’

Francesca’s face lit up. ‘You have no idea how much it cheers me to hear you say that, Colin,’ she said, looking rather touched. ‘I feel quite the same way about Penelope, you know. We all do.’

Colin chuckled softly. ‘Yes. Well…you all do, aside from Eloise,’ he said, his smile fading slightly.

‘She will come around,’ Francesca said. ‘Whatever their feud is, they will resolve it.’

Colin nodded, a quiet confidence in his voice as he said, ‘Yes, I am certain they will. It is Penelope, after all. How could one possibly be angry with her?’

Francesca looked up at him with a fond smile. ‘You both seem…so very happy together. Like a couple from a fairytale, or a Jane Austen novel. It is so rare,’ she said, sounding almost wistful. ‘And so, so wonderful.’

‘Yes. It is,’ Colin said, dipping his chin as a huge smile spread on his face. ‘I am a very lucky man, indeed.’

He began to grin then, a faraway look in his eyes and a soft chuckle escaping his mouth; he was rather overcome with giddiness all of a sudden.

Francesca tilted her head at him curiously. ‘What is it?’ she asked, amused.

‘Nothing,’ Colin said, his grin widening despite himself. ‘It is just – just between you and me, for if I do not tell anyone I might burst – Penelope told me today that she has loved me the entire time we have known one another. Isn’t that so…perplexing?’

Francesca looked deeply moved. ‘It is delightful, not perplexing, Brother,’ she said with a smile, and she shook her head at him exasperatedly. ‘You really ought not to put yourself down so much.’

Colin exhaled deeply, looking almost drunk with joy. ‘I just…I suppose I am rather shocked, that is all. But pleasantly so. I only wish I had seen it sooner and realised my own feelings for Penelope years ago, but…better late than never, I suppose.’

‘Clearly, it was meant to be,’ Francesca said warmly, her hand squeezing his arm.

‘Clearly, it was. Just like you and John, I would wager,’ he said, flickering his eyebrows at her.

Francesca smiled back, and together they walked back into the house.

Colin spent the rest of the afternoon with Benedict in the study, ostensibly tending to estate matters – but his mind was far from the ledgers and paperwork. Instead, it kept replaying Penelope’s words from the church over and over again, savouring each one like a precious jewel. It filled him with a deep, abiding joy, and he couldn’t even be bothered to restrain himself from expressing it.

‘Even the years I pretended to be your friend, I was, but...I loved you in secret. I have always loved you, Colin.’

As he sat there, the quill forgotten in his hand, Colin couldn’t stop the tears that welled in his eyes – tears of gratitude, of happiness, of a love that had been there all along, just waiting to be realised. And he knew with absolute certainty that it was a love that would now, finally, be cherished for all the days to come.

***

That night, when Penelope was alone in her bedchamber, all ready for bed with her hair loose and wearing her silk dressing gown, she began the task she had been dreading but knew she must do. Today at the church with Colin had only further reinforced her decision. It was the only way forward. The only path to happiness.

She fished out her writing supplies and Whistledown portfolio from her drawer and placed them on the writing desk. She took a deep, trembling breath as her hand ran over the quill.

And then, with a quick knock, the door to her bedchamber opened.

‘My apologies, miss, I left my-’

Penelope gasped and quickly scrambled around in a panic, trying to hide her materials from view, but Rae held up a reassuring hand.

‘You do not need to hide them, miss,’ she said at once.

Penelope and Rae looked at each other in silence for what felt like a very long time.

Eventually, Penelope let out a heavy sigh. ‘How long have you known?’ she asked quietly.

‘A while,’ Rae replied honestly, a sympathetic smile on her face. ‘You need not worry, miss, your secret is safe with me. I would never say a word.’

Penelope inhaled rather shakily, overcome with relief, and smiled. ‘Thank you, Rae. Your loyalty is…much appreciated.’

Rae nodded, but then a little crease appeared on her forehead as she watched Penelope. ‘I know what you are doing,’ she murmured.

Penelope looked down, a wry smile crossing her face. ‘I cannot tell from your tone whether you are supportive or you disapprove.’

‘I will always support you, miss. Always,’ Rae said, stepping forward into the bedchamber. ‘But…are you sure it is what you want?’

Penelope swallowed and looked up at Rae with shining eyes. ‘It is not about what I want, Rae. It is about what is right…and what will ensure me a happy future with my husband. I cannot live in a lie any longer, and I cannot bear one more moment of the stress that comes with being Whistledown…always hiding, always sneaking around, always keeping secrets. I cannot do it,’ she said in a strained voice. ‘And especially not to Colin.’

‘I understand.’

‘But?’

‘It is only a shame,’ Rae said with a shrug, and she smiled. ‘You are so very good. I will miss your Whistledown issues.’

Penelope managed a faint smile. ‘As will I.’

‘Is there anything I can do to help?’ Rae offered.

‘No. This is something I need to do myself. But…thank you, Rae,’ Penelope said, nodding earnestly. ‘Thank you.’

Rae nodded and left, whatever she had originally entered the room for either forgotten about or deliberately left for tomorrow.

Penelope closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, taking a moment. Then, she picked up her portfolio and writing supplies, and brought it over to the small niche beneath the floorboards. She set them inside alongside her piles of money and old issues of Whistledown.

She paused then to examine the beautiful betrothal ring on her finger, and looked up thoughtfully. It was a monumental decision she was making. She had to be sure.

And right now, she was.

Colin was too good to be true, and her love for him was infinite. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for him – even giving up Lady Whistledown and letting Cressida take the credit.

Today at the church had shown her the future that awaited her. As long as he was with her, she would never feel alone or incomplete anymore. She would be in everlasting peace and harmony with him, and it would be a simpler life, joyful and stress-free without the constant pressure to rush out the next Whistledown edition and the worries of being found out. Yes, she would miss that satisfaction of writing a good issue, the thrill of seeing it printed, the joy of watching people’s eyes widen enthusiastically as they read the words she herself had written.

But she would miss Colin more.

If she and Colin were together, Lady Whistledown wouldn’t matter anymore. Colin was worth the sacrifice. There was no place she would rather be, no life she would rather have. She would choose him over anything, each and every time.

Penelope then pulled out the stack of Whistledown papers before replacing the floorboards. She folded the carpet back over the hiding spot, straightened up, and looked through the papers – her life’s work – as she moved slowly to the roaring fireplace.

She took a paper from the top of the stack and, before she could stop and think about what she was doing, tossed it on the flames. She then burned another Whistledown paper…and then another….

The firelight brightened on her grave face as it consumed the missives, the heat of the blaze warming her as the burden she had carried for so long began to melt away. She tilted her chin upwards as she watched the flames reduce her work into ashes.

This is the right thing. This is the right thing.

As the fire’s warmth wrapped around her, Penelope knew that she would survive this. She would endure the loss, for it was not truly a loss at all, but a trade – one life for another, one happiness for another. Penelope Featherington, the woman who loved Colin Bridgerton, would live on. Lady Whistledown, however, would be no more.

Penelope continued to watch the flames consume the final remnants of Lady Whistledown until the papers had curled into nothing but ash, and as she did so she whispered a quiet farewell to the life she had crafted in secret, content in the knowledge that she was ready at last to embrace the life she had always truly desired.

***

The days melted into weeks, the lead-up to the wedding passing in a whirlwind of joy, anticipation and excitement.

For Colin, the assurance of Penelope’s love was the balm that healed the self-doubt that had haunted him for so long, and the days were marked by a resurgence of inspiration, as though Penelope’s declaration in the church had rekindled a fire within him. Every morning, Colin would sequester himself in his study and sit at his desk with a renewed sense of purpose, his eyes dancing with joy and his quill scribbling across the parchment as the words he had once struggled to find now flew effortlessly onto the pages of his new manuscript. After struggling so much with his writing after the betrothal party, now it suddenly seemed easier than ever. Perhaps that was the effect Penelope had over him. She made everything so easy, so wonderful. When their life together was going so perfectly, his writing went perfectly as well.

The hours flew by as he transformed the raw experiences of his adventures abroad into a story, his mind alive with the memories of distant lands, the smell of the sea, and the sound of foreign tongues. It was such an exhilarating rush; this was something he could control, something he could shape and perfect, and in that, he found a sense of worth beyond his birthright. Penelope had always admired his writing, and now, he wrote not just for himself, but for her – for them. Colin had a huge smile on his face as he poured his heart into every page, and each word was imbued with new life, a testament not just to the places he had seen, but to the love that had anchored him through those lonely months. It was not simply writing – it was his heart laid bare, and for the first time, he felt truly worthy of Penelope’s admiration. And with each passing day, as the manuscript grew thicker, so did his confidence, as though her love had freed him from the chains of his own making.

This was where Colin was most at home, most at ease – just him and his quill, writing away. All he needed now was Penelope sat beside him as his wife, and then there would be nothing left he could possibly want or need for the rest of his life.

Meanwhile, Penelope found herself immersed in the joyous chaos and intricate details of wedding planning with Portia and Mrs. Varley. Every day brought new tasks, each one drawing her closer to her mother in ways she had never anticipated. Where once there had been tension and misunderstanding, now there was a shared excitement, a sense of partnership, a bridge that spanned the years of distance between them. Portia had become so delighted about the preparations for the big day, and it immensely pleased Penelope to see not only her mother to be so invested, but for Portia to want to include her and value her own opinions in such decisions as well.

Together, they pored over fabric swatches and lace, discussed the guest list  and the colours of napkins, debated the merits of different floral arrangements, and sampled endless varieties of cake for the wedding breakfast. They discussed everything under the sun, all with the intent of planning the greatest wedding Mayfair had ever seen. Portia, usually so cold and domineering, surprised Penelope with her enthusiasm; the mother and daughter had never bonded quite so strongly before. They smiled and laughed together, they were enraptured by one another’s suggestions, and they were so giddy, even enjoying spending some quality time with each other. They had never been so close, and Penelope felt almost inclined to forgive her mother for everything that had come before; Penelope was determined to put the past behind her and look forward, after all, in all aspects of her life.

Even Penelope’s sisters seemed to take more notice of her now, offering begrudging compliments on her choices and making half-hearted attempts at sisterly advice. There was a strange, remarkable difference in their interactions now, a sense of family that had eluded her for so long; it was a gift Penelope certainly hadn’t expected, and it felt as if, in planning her future, she had also mended the past.

Amidst the whirlwind of preparations and social engagements, Penelope and Colin found time to steal away and indulge in one another’s company – sometimes unchaperoned, on the rare occasions they could manage it. Late at night, Colin would visit Featherington House, slipping a few coins into Rae’s hand with a knowing smile to ensure that he could slip into the garden under the cover of darkness. There, among the roses and ivy, he would find Penelope waiting. Their stolen kisses were sweet, hurried and breathless, and the garden soon became their secret haven, a place where they could forget the world and simply be together.

Penelope was rather dazed and overcome with giddiness over the bizarre fact that this was truly her life now. It felt like the world was playing a joke on her yet again…but deep down Penelope knew that wasn’t the case. It was different, with Colin. She wasn’t a fool anymore, she was simply a woman in love, with a man who loved her in return. She could now lose hours in his eyes without getting embarrassed or feeling that she had to turn away before he suspected her feelings, for she had given him her heart openly and, at last, she no longer had to hide. She no longer trudged down the street, she floated…she no longer hid her feelings timidly from Colin or her family, she expressed them unabashedly…she could no longer think straight, for he made her too tongue-tied…

Colin had made her utterly lovestruck and stupid, but she didn’t care, for it was all just too wonderful for words. She was in awe of the effect he had on him. She wasn’t used to being this happy – but she would very much like it if this was her new norm.

One night found Penelope waiting for Colin as usual under the archway where they had kissed for the very first time and their entire lives had changed. The night was still, save for the rustle of leaves in the breeze, and the moon hung low over the Featherington estate, casting silver light across the manicured garden, its glow broken only by the shadows of the tall hedges.

Penelope stood hidden, her breath quickening as she heard Colin’s familiar footsteps approaching. When he emerged from the shadows, she wasted no time, pulling him into an alcove out of sight of any prying eyes. Colin’s lips met Penelope’s with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. Their kiss was fervent, charged with the kind of passion that had only grown with the passing days, as their wedding drew nearer.

Colin’s hands roamed her back, his touch igniting a fire within her. She guided his hand to her breast, her breath catching as she felt the warmth of his palm through the fabric of her gown, and she met his gaze with a hunger that matched his own.

‘Come inside,’ she whispered, her voice laced with desire.

Colin blinked and pulled back slightly, his breath hitching. ‘Wh-what?’

‘Please,’ she urged, her fingers gripping onto his jacket. ‘We can ask Rae to check the coast is clear, then you can come up to my bedchamber and-’

‘Penelope Featherington, you are…’ Colin’s words trailed off into a laugh, but the sound was tinged with frustration; he rested his forehead and nose against hers, closing his eyes. ‘It is truly agony to say no, but we cannot.’

Penelope pouted. ‘Then take me back to our apartment soon. Please.’

‘There is nothing I would like more,’ Colin said, his voice low with longing, ‘But…’

‘There’s a ‘but’?’ Penelope said, her eyebrows raising in disbelief.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. ‘What if we waited? Then we could have a proper wedding night?’

Penelope huffed, her brows knitting together. ‘Isn’t that irrelevant at this point?’ she said, rather teasingly. ‘We have already-’

‘Yes, but we…’ He hesitated, his hand moving to cup her cheek tenderly. ‘If we wait, if we hold on, it is not long now…’ Colin’s voice softened, his thumb brushing along her jawline.

‘It feels long-’ Penelope began, but he cut her off with a gentle finger to her lips.

‘But then imagine the feeling when we are man and wife,’ Colin murmured, his voice low and enticing as his lips grazed her temple. ‘And after the wedding breakfast, we can return to our new home together, without needing to sneak around, and we can celebrate our union properly. Thoroughly. And I can do all the things I have been longing to do to you ever since I dropped you back off at your house that day.’

His words sent a flush of heat through her, and Penelope melted into his embrace with a moan. Colin captured her lips with his, the kiss slower this time, filled with yearning and tenderness.

When he pulled away, she sighed in surrender. ‘Very well,’ she murmured.

Colin groaned softly, shaking his head. ‘I am going to regret this.’

‘I should hope so,’ she said, her laughter mingling with his.

They shared another kiss, both knowing the agony of restraint yet savouring the anticipation.

‘But it will be worth it,’ Colin assured her, his voice thick with conviction.

‘Yes. Yes, it will be,’ Penelope agreed, her heart swelling.

Colin pulled away slightly then to simply gaze at her, his eyes filled with the same awe and reverence he had shown her the night they got engaged, after their final kiss in the carriage.

‘Thank God for you,’ Colin murmured, his eyes searching her face as if mesmerised.

Penelope’s hand came up to cup his cheek, her touch tender. ‘Thank God for you being able to outrun four horses,’ she said, chuckling.

Colin chuckled as well, then took her hands and held them close to his chest. ‘Yes, that too,’ he said, and he sighed. ‘I must go. Before Rae gets suspicious.’

Penelope tilted her head at him, a playful smile dancing on her lips.

‘All right then, more suspicious.’

Penelope laughed along with him. ‘I wish you could stay,’ she said, her voice wistful.

‘Do not do that,’ Colin said, his eyes closing as if in pain, and his arms tightened around her. ‘This is already torture.’

They both laughed again and simply stayed there holding each other for a moment, neither bearing to part just yet.

‘Like you say, it will not be long,’ Penelope said. ‘And then we will have all our freedom to do whatever we want. We could just stay in our bedchamber for days.’

Colin smirked. ‘I rather like the sound of that,’ he replied, his voice husky with desire.

Penelope smiled, and they shared one last kiss, both knowing it would have to sustain them through the long, lonely night ahead.

Pressing her lips together, Penelope then reluctantly backed away towards the archway. ‘Goodnight, Colin.’

‘Goodnight, Pen,’ Colin said, his lips trembling with the effort not to beam with giddiness. ‘Sweet dreams.’

Penelope watched him slip away into the shadows, a dazed smile playing on her lips. The moment he was out of sight, she turned and headed inside, her heart racing and her body humming with unspent energy as she made her way up to her bedchamber. Once there, she closed the door and undressed slowly, her fingers tracing over her skin, lingering on the places where Colin had touched her.

Exhaling deeply, Penelope lay down on the bed, wanting to relive every moment of every intimate embrace the two of them had shared while fantasising about the night they would finally share without restraint. She knew that their wedding day could not come soon enough, but until then, she would simply have to make do and enjoy the vivid memory of his kisses and the feel of his naked body moving with hers…and savour the promise of what was to come.

Chapter Text

The days continued to slip by, each one bringing Colin and Penelope closer to their wedding, and with it, the promise of a life filled with love, laughter, and the comfort of knowing that they would never again have to face the world alone.

Twice more, they made their way to the church with their families to hear the wedding banns read. They listened as their names were called out, and each time, the reality of their impending union grew more tangible, more exhilarating. The sound of Colin’s name linked with hers filled Penelope with a sense of contentment she had never known, as if all the pieces of her life were finally falling into place. During each service, they looked back to each other to exchange secret smiles, their hearts leaping with the knowledge that soon, they would be bound together for all the world to see. The future beckoned, bright and full of possibility, and they were ready to embrace it as one.

Their public outings together were filled with displays of affection most unbecoming for members of good society. Whether promenading in Hyde Park or visiting the Bridgerton household, the betrothed pair made no effort to hide their feelings, much to the scandalised delight of the ton. Colin would take Penelope’s hand in his as they walked, their laughter ringing out over the soft chatter of everyone else. The ton whispered about their impropriety, but Penelope and Colin paid no heed; they were in love, and that love could not be contained.

The Bridgertons, ever supportive, had already seen Penelope as part of their family for quite some time and so welcomed Penelope into their fold with open arms. Well, everyone except Eloise – she mysteriously seemed to disappear from the house whenever Penelope visited, but even that could not dampen Penelope’s spirits. The warmth and acceptance from the rest of the Bridgertons filled Penelope with a sense of belonging she had never experienced before. Besides, she and Colin both knew that, in time, even Eloise was bound to come around. They sincerely hoped so anyway.

One day found the happy couple promenading together in Hyde Park, having managed to find a break from the flurry of wedding preparations. The sun hung lazily in the early afternoon sky, casting a gentle glow over Rotten Row, which was alive with the vibrant energy of the season. Colin and Penelope strolled along the well-trodden paths arm in arm, their gazes occasionally meeting, igniting a quiet thrill between them. Only ten days remained until their wedding, and they were enjoying a rare moment of relative privacy amidst the bustle of the ton – well, privacy with a chaperone in the form of one of the Featherington maids hovering ten paces behind anyway.

As they approached a bench by the Serpentine, Colin guided Penelope to sit beside him, his fingers twiddling with hers in a manner that had become second nature; her hand fit in his like it had been made just for him, after all. The placid waters mirrored the serene blue of the sky, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the trees overhead. Colin’s eyes never left Penelope’s face, tracing the curve of her lips and the delicate arch of her brow, as though committing every detail to memory.

Her hair was pinned slightly up, with gentle curls shaping her face, and she wore another stunning pale green dress with floral embroidery. There was an undeniable elegance in the way she now carried herself, and her beautiful gowns this season were truly a testament to her rising confidence. Her manner of dress was now entirely her own, and she was fully embracing it, much to Colin’s delight. The style of his own attire had also changed somewhat since he and Penelope had become engaged; his clothes had become slightly softer compared to what he had been wearing earlier in the season, and a little less scandalously modern. He wore midnight blues mostly now, which suited him very much – and certainly made him even harder for Penelope to resist.

‘Oh, by the way, Francesca and John wish to marry shortly after us,’ Colin said. ‘They want a quiet, intimate ceremony at home. I told them we would not mind, but… I wanted to ask you.’

Penelope’s gaze softened as she looked at him. ‘Of course I do not mind. I am so excited for them! And it’s rather fitting, isn’t it? Francesca always did prefer quieter affairs.’

Colin chuckled. ‘That is certainly true.’

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment watching the lake, their fingers intertwining on the bench as the reflection of the sunlight danced on the water’s surface. Colin couldn’t stop gazing at the simple but elegant betrothal ring glistening on Penelope’s finger. It felt like he had been searching his whole life to find his own home, his own purpose, his own identity, and been met with nothing but a series of doors in his face. But then Penelope had entered his life, always thinking so much like him, always knowing exactly what was on his mind, always encouraging and supporting him from the very beginning. They had been just children at the time, but now time had moved on far too quickly and they were both so grown up, and so very much meant to be together. Penelope was his home – nothing had ever felt more simple or more right. And Colin knew that their love would last, long after even both of them were gone. That was how strong they were together.

‘I cannot get over seeing you with that ring,’ Colin murmured, his thumb gently brushing over the ring. ‘It suits you, you know.’

‘I do love it so very much,’ Penelope said, flashing him a grateful smile, and she began to blush as he gazed into her eyes adoringly, his smiling lips parted as if in awe. ‘Colin, you must stop looking at me like that.’

Colin feigned innocence at once. ‘Like what?’ he said, a smirk playing on his lips. ‘I am merely looking at my future wife.’

‘We are in public,’ she reminded him, glancing pointedly at the parade of society strolling past them.

‘Mmm. We are,’ he said with a twitch of his lips, blatantly unconcerned. ‘And we have nothing to hide.’

‘N-no,’ Penelope said, feeling rather dazed, and she smiled warmly at him. ‘No, we do not.’

She found herself lost in his gaze, as she so often did these days, and felt her heart skip a beat as he smiled softly back at her. It was a freedom she had never known before – this ability to look at him openly, without needing to hide her feelings. She didn’t understand how their love could do what nothing and no one else could to her; even just the way he could so easily disarm her with a simple look made her positively mad and dizzy with joy. It made her overwhelmed. It was almost impossible to explain.

Colin’s hand then lifted to her cheek, his intent clear in his tender eyes as he leaned in closer.

‘Colin!’ Penelope gasped, her eyes darting around the park to make sure no one was watching.

‘What are they going to do about it? Force us to marry?’ he quipped, his grin widening.

Penelope giggled despite herself, shaking her head exasperatedly. ‘We mustn’t,’ she insisted, though her resolve was clearly waning.

‘Ugh, fine,’ Colin said with a dramatic sigh.

But then, before she could react, he swiftly leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on her cheek.

Penelope gasped at him, half in scandalised shock and half in delight. Colin only smirked in return, thoroughly pleased with himself.

A little flustered, Penelope glanced back at the Featherington maid who had accompanied her as a chaperone today. Rae would normally have accompanied them on their outing, but was unavailable today; she was busy setting up Penelope’s personal affects at her and Colin’s new apartment in Bloomsbury, where both Penelope and Colin had agreed that she would be their housekeeper, much to Rae’s delight; she was very excited – and deserving – of the move and the promotion. Unfortunately, this other maid who was with them today, hovering quite a while away by a tree, was not as familiar with Colin and Penelope’s antics as Rae, and as such was shaking her head and rolling her eyes in despair.

Colin followed Penelope’s gaze and merely threw his head back with a laugh, clearly still unconcerned.

He did not care about propriety or who saw them. He was not ashamed of breaking the rules, he never had been. He just wanted nothing more than to kiss Penelope’s sweet lips, for them to both ignore society so that they could get lost in their desire for one another. What did it matter if their displays of affection made them the talk of the ton? He was proud to show off his love for this magnificent woman.

Penelope smirked at him, deeply amused. She had never seen his face more alight.

Her expression then softened. ‘Colin… may I ask you something?’ she said after a moment, her voice more tentative now.

‘Anything,’ Colin replied, his fingers still entwined with hers.

‘Your journal.’

He grinned, a knowing look in his eyes. ‘I will let you read more, I promise. Once we are wed.’

‘No, I meant…have you written any more of your journal, since you returned to London?’ Penelope asked.

Colin considered her for a moment. ‘I have…’ he said slowly, wondering where she was going with this.

‘What have you written about?’ she asked, her curiosity evident.

Colin gazed at her with a half-smile, and his gaze drifted to her lips. ‘I’ve written about a lot of things,’ he said in a low, gentle voice.

Penelope swallowed, her heart racing. ‘You have?’ she asked, trying to hide her eagerness.

‘Mmm-hmm. Such as…our lessons. How enjoyable I found them. How they consumed my every thought. And our first kiss. How it completely changed my world,’ Colin said, his smile growing as he watched her hang onto every word. ‘And how tormented I was over your courtship with someone else. And…how delighted I was when you said you would be my wife. And then, of course… there were other things I wrote about as well.’

‘Oh?’ Penelope prompted with a grin, her eyes alight with excitement…and something more.

‘Mmm,’ Colin murmured, leaning in slightly. ‘Such as…a rather eventful carriage ride on the way back from the Queen’s Ball. And…I believe…a certain mirror featured in one of my later entries, as well.’

Penelope giggled and then bit her lip; the two things combined made Colin nearly forget how to breathe. ‘May I read those entries? Please?’ she asked, her eyes holding that hungry look she had introduced him to that memorable day on the chaise longue.

Colin’s parted lips smiled as he nodded slowly at her. ‘Oh, absolutely,’ he said, his voice husky as they began to lean in closer once more, the world around them falling away.

Before Penelope could lose herself in the moment, however, she then noticed the Featherington maid approach them by the bench and clear her throat rather loudly, her eyes wide with disapproval. She raised her eyebrows pointedly, and it was only then when Penelope remembered her planned engagements for the day.

Penelope sighed and drew back from Colin reluctantly. ‘I must go, I am afraid. I am late for the Modiste.’

‘So soon?’ Colin said in disappointment.

‘Indeed,’ Penelope said, rising from the bench with a final squeeze of his hand.

After they bid a fond farewell, Penelope turned to leave with her maid, but not before casting one last glance back at Colin, an adorable smile on her face. She was hit by an intense realisation in that moment that she could say goodbye to the pain of the past now; Colin had opened a door for her, a door filled with love and joy and freedom to be together. She did not have to feel sad or lonely anymore. All was well.

Colin grinned back at Penelope and shook his head dazedly as she began to walk away. She knew exactly what she did when she smiled at him in that way, so coyly.

Colin watched her go, his tender eyes following her until she disappeared from view. As he turned away from the bench, Colin then noticed a group of familiar men lingering nearby, their obnoxious sniggers unmistakable. Lords Stanton, Wilding, and Fife – three men he had once bizarrely considered friends – hovered on the path with an air of mockery about them; they were clearly amused by the sight of someone they had once thought a fellow philandering, heartless rake so hopelessly in love.

Colin rose from the bench, his expression shifting from affectionate to smug as he approached them.

‘Bridgerton!’ Lord Wilding called out, beckoning him over.

‘We wondered when we would get a chance to, err, congratulate you on your news,’ Lord Stanton said, exchanging an amused glance with his friends.

‘That is very commendable of you, gentlemen, thank you,’ Colin said, not fooled at all as he gave them all a cynical smile.

‘How funny life turns out, isn’t it?’ Lord Fife said, his tone dripping with condescension as he raised his eyebrows at Colin. ‘We thought you said you would never dream of courting the Featherington girl.’

A confident smile played on Colin’s lips as he looked at all three of them, unbothered by their jeers. ‘Well, technically, I did not court her,’ he replied in a satisfied tone of voice. ‘I skipped straight to marrying her.’

The men exchanged surprised glances, clearly caught off guard by Colin’s proud response.

‘So…these are your true colours,’ Lord Fife said, clearly unimpressed as he gave Colin a sceptical look, and the others barely stifled chuckles beside him.

‘They certainly are. And I couldn’t be more grateful for it. You all have my pity, truly,’ Colin said, his chest swelling with pride. ‘And by the way, you should know, there may not be enough room for the three of you to attend the wedding, I am afraid.’

Wilding suddenly looked rather dismayed. ‘B-but isn’t the entire ton-?’

‘It is regrettable, to be sure, but the guest list is already far too large, and St. George’s will not be able to fit anyone else. Unless you would be willing to stand at the back?’ Colin said, his lips twitching as he revelled in their discomfort. ‘Anyway, I must take my leave, there is still a great deal of preparations left to attend to for the big day. Good day, gentlemen.’

All three lords’ faces fell, the laughter dying on their lips as Colin turned on his heel and sauntered away, leaving them behind in stunned silence without a second thought. He felt a deep sense of triumph; he had no need for those men’s approval anymore, for his heart was full and his future was brighter than he could ever have imagined. It had been a small, satisfying victory to speak to them like that – a severing of ties that no longer served him.

As he continued his stroll through the park, Colin’s gaze then landed on another familiar figure: Lord Debling, walking alone along the lake’s edge, looking deep in thought. Colin’s steps slowed for a moment as he contemplated fleeing in the other direction, but then, after taking a deep breath, he made his way over to him.

‘Lord Debling,’ Colin greeted him, his tone respectful but tinged with guilt as he nodded his head.

Lord Debling looked up in surprise, and tipped the top of his hat in Colin’s direction. ‘Mr. Bridgerton, good day to you,’ he replied, his smile polite but lacking its usual warmth.

‘I had heard you had already left London,’ Colin said, confused.

‘No, not quite yet – but I have made plans to expedite arrangements with my travels,’ Lord Debling replied. ‘I shall be leaving tomorrow.’

‘I see. You must be looking forward to it.’

‘Very much. There is nothing keeping me here,’ Lord Debling said, making Colin wince a little, but he smiled. ‘The season in London does not suit me, it appears.’

Colin nodded, and swallowed. ‘I am glad I have caught you, Lord Debling. I wanted to apologise,’ he said tentatively, his tone sincere. ‘For my behaviour at the Queen’s Ball the other week. For interrupting your dance with Penelope and, w-well, for everything that happened after. I should have been honest with you beforehand. I should have done you the courtesy of an explanation, and yet I…I did not even speak to you. I am deeply sorry for that.’

Lord Debling considered him for a moment then nodded slowly, as if surprised – and even moved – by Colin’s words. ‘That is very kind, but there is no need, Mr. Bridgerton. My aim to marry this season was a mistake. It was never fair of me to expect any wife I married to stay behind on her own to tend to my estate,’ he said, and he sighed rather wistfully. ‘Miss Featherington deserved much better than that, and I see that she has found that with you – which is what she has always wanted, I suspect.’

Colin nodded and flashed a small smile, grateful for Lord Debling’s understanding. ‘Thank you,’ he said earnestly. ‘And thank you for…bringing Penelope and I together, even though it was unintentional. You helped force me to be brave. To speak my truth. I will forever be in your debt for that.’

Lord Debling offered a small smile, though there was a hint of melancholy in his eyes. ‘You are…very welcome,’ he said. ‘I am glad Miss Featherington is happy. That is all that matters. Please tell her I wish her well.’

‘I will. I wish you luck on your travels, Lord Debling,’ Colin said, extending his hand.

‘And I wish you all the best in your marriage, Mr. Bridgerton. Truly,’ Lord Debling said, shaking Colin’s hand firmly.

With that, they parted ways, each man going in a different direction but with a mutual respect that had not existed before.

As Colin turned back to watch Lord Debling walk away into the crowd, he felt a guilt he hadn’t even known was pressing on his chest suddenly lift, to be replaced by a deep sense of closure. The past was behind him; he had found his happiness, and in doing so, had unwittingly gained something he had never expected – a future where he was truly himself, with Penelope by his side. The park, with all its life and beauty, suddenly seemed even more vibrant, as he then turned away and strolled back in the direction of Mayfair, a pep in his step and a huge smile across his face – a smile that he was quite sure would never disappear.

He couldn’t believe that he was going to be Penelope Featherington’s husband, that he could kiss her and hold her hand tightly in his just because he could. She lit him up so completely. She consumed his every minute of every day. It was Penelope, it was all Penelope. She was everything. And he wouldn’t wish for it any other way.

***

When Penelope entered the Modiste with her maid, immediately immersing herself in a world of luxurious fabrics, she found Genevieve already helping some customers. She waited patiently for them to leave, while admiring the many bolts of rich silks, satins, and velvets in every conceivable shade arranged neatly along the walls. She was trying not to feel so guilty at having left it so long before paying her friend a visit; she had been so very busy, what with her and Colin’s quick engagement and her preoccupation with what to do about Lady Whistledown, that she had quite forgotten about the importance of keeping up with her friendships.

Genevieve looked genuinely delighted to see Penelope when she stepped in. ‘Ah! Miss Penelope!’ she said gleefully. ‘It has been too long.’

Penelope beamed as Genevieve pulled her into the fitting room by the hand.

‘It was not until your delivery boy dropped off your last column that I learnt you are engaged?!’ Genevieve said excitedly, now speaking in her natural British accent.

Penelope laughed; she still couldn’t get over the thrill of herself being the cause for such joyous celebration…of people being genuinely happy for her. It was a wonderful feeling.

‘Yes. I am very happy,’ she said, still smiling. ‘Forgive me. These last weeks have been a whirlwind.’

‘I am happy for you. And when you sneak out to write your column, I assume you will tell Mr. Bridgerton...-’ Genvieve trailed off, looking both hopeful and wary; Penelope could tell from the look in her eyes that this had clearly been on her mind since the moment she had read the news of their betrothal.

‘That is what I have come to tell you. I am letting Miss Cowper take credit for the column,’ Penelope said, trying not to flinch as she said the words; she watched as Genevieve’s face faltered, but she tried to keep a smile on her face. ‘The issue you read about my engagement will be my last.’

‘Penelope, that column’s your life’s work,’ Genevieve said, looking perplexed.

But still, Penelope kept the smile on her face, trying to reassure her that all was well. ‘I cannot continue writing. I have found a love match, Genevieve,’ she said softly, and Genvieve smiled; she looked genuinely pleased for her, but anguished as well. ‘I do not wish to take that for granted.’

Genevieve nodded, though she made a rather poor attempt at concealing her true feelings on the matter as she pursed her lips and averted her gaze, clearly deeply troubled by Penelope’s news.

‘My mama has sent me for some fabric samples for my wedding dress,’ Penelope said, glancing around the fitting room.

Genevieve looked at her for a moment, clearly struggling with how to react, then, wearing a frozen smile, she stepped away to a table covered with bolts of cloth.

They were silent for a moment as Genevieve gathered some materials and Penelope wandered over to the full-length trifold mirror.

‘You know my favourite part about dressmaking,’ Genevieve said from the other end of the room, reverting back to her false French accent, ‘…is seeing the glow on a woman’s face when she puts the dress on.’

Penelope gazed over at Genevieve in the reflection of the mirror.

Genevieve turned back to face Penelope. ‘I can’t imagine ever giving that feeling up,’ she said, inhaling deeply.

Penelope’s smile wavered as she watched Genevieve come back over to her by the mirror. She couldn’t help wondering if the reason she had been putting off seeing Genevieve, without even realising it, had been because she had suspected she would react like this. Genevieve was not like Eloise, after all; she had always supported Penelope in her venture as Lady Whistledown, and she knew exactly what she was losing.

‘At any rate,’ Genvieve said airily, and she began to drape white fabric over her shoulder, ‘we will make you the most beautiful dress.’

Penelope gazed at her reflection for a moment, wondering who she saw, who she would become. Who was she without Whistledown, after all?

But then she thought of Colin, and of his face when he would see her in her wedding gown, and she forced her smile back into place.

They were silent for a while as Geneveive set to work, and it wasn’t long before Penelope already had the early foundations of a new gown draped around her figure. The soft clink of pins and the swish of fabric filled the air as Genevieve meticulously worked her tape measure over Penelope’s waist, adjusting the folds of light pink satin; Penelope pressed her lips together excitedly as she tried to keep as still as possible on the platform and gazed at her reflection in the mirror.

‘I would very much like you to come to the wedding, you know,’ Penelope said, glancing down at Genevieve as she knelt by her hem. ‘You are my friend, after all. It would feel wrong for you not to be there.’

Genevieve paused, her fingers stilling on the fabric as she met Penelope’s gaze in the reflection of the standing mirror. ‘You are too kind, Miss Penelope, but...could you imagine the looks on people’s faces if I were to attend? I am not a part of your world.’

Penelope frowned. ‘The ton is hardly my world.’

‘But it is. And there is no shame in that,’ Genevieve said with an earnest smile, and she gave Penelope’s wrist a reassuring squeeze. ‘Besides, we cannot be seen to be too close – nothing out of the ordinary, anyway – or people may grow suspicious about why an esteemed member of the ton would be associating with someone of my station outside of simple dressmaking matters. We do not want people to find out about our little enterprise, after all…even if it is now in the past.’

‘I hadn’t thought of that,’ Penelope murmured, twiddling with her fingers. ‘Forgive me.’

‘There is nothing to forgive. I appreciate the gesture, I truly do, but I am afraid I shall have to decline,’ Genevieve said, giving her a sad smile. ‘We both know I shall certainly be there with you in spirit, though. It will be a wonderful day.’

She returned her focus to the gown, her hands quick yet precise as she adjusted the delicate material.

‘It will,’ Penelope said, her voice brimming with excitement, and her face softened with a rare, unburdened joy. ‘I truly cannot wait.’

Genevieve’s fingers moved again, tightening the bodice, but her expression remained thoughtful, a shadow of doubt flickering across her features. ‘You do seem very happy. As you should be,’ she said, her tone carefully measured. ‘It is quite a sacrifice you are making, letting go of your business.’

The word ‘sacrifice’ hung in the air and Penelope’s smile faltered for the briefest of moments, though she quickly recovered. ‘I do not see it that way,’ she replied, her voice firm but still kind. ‘I am simply choosing a different path. One that will ensure mine and Colin’s happiness together.’

‘Of course,’ Genevieve murmured, though her expression betrayed her words.

She continued her work, pinching the fabric at Penelope’s shoulder, but Penelope could tell her heart wasn’t in it. And she understood; to Genevieve, a woman who had built her own independence in a world that rarely afforded such luxury to women, Whistledown was more than just an enterprise. It was Penelope’s power, her voice, her secret identity in a society that barely saw her for more than her unassuming nature. Lady Whistledown was not just sharp, clever, and untouchable – she was Penelope’s soul, her lifeblood…her freedom.

As she adjusted the bodice, Genevieve let out a soft sigh, masking it with a brief smile. ‘There,’ she said, stepping back to admire her work. ‘You will be the most beautiful bride, Penelope.’

Penelope smiled, her heart full. ‘And the happiest.’

Genevieve smiled back, smoothing the last fold of the gown. ‘I do hope that…whatever path you choose, you always remember who you truly are,’ she said tentatively, her eyes meeting Penelope’s.

Penelope’s gaze softened as she looked at Genevieve, her heart swelling. ‘Of course,’ she whispered, a reassuring smile on her face.

And in the silence that followed, as Genevieve pinned the final fold of fabric, they both knew that some sacrifices were greater than others.

The future had already been decided. Penelope had chosen love. A love that demanded sacrifice, yes – and Penelope, in all her quiet strength, had deemed it a worthy one. And that, in its own way, was powerful enough.

Chapter Text

Tonight was a night of much intrigue throughout the ton; Will and Alice Mondrich, still growing accustomed to their new lives as nobles, had decided to brave the storm of their new world and were hosting a ball. It would be their first foray into the grand tradition of London’s social season – and a real test as to whether they would be welcomed as true members of the ton…or dismissed as mere nobodies who were out of their depth.

Many guests arrived early, such was their intrigue to explore the Kent estate and assess its new residents, and the dancing began with gusto. Penelope and her mother entered together, followed by her sisters and their husbands. Penelope felt terribly excited; she would be able to truly relax with Colin at this ball, without Lady Whistledown hanging over her, and simply savour this wonderful time with him. She was eager to dance and drink with her fiancé all night long.

A huge smile fell on Penelope’s face as she took in the sight before her; Mrs. Mondrich had evidently chosen a botanical theme for tonight’s event, and transformed the ballroom into a veritable garden through the displays of various blooming flowers. The walls were painted a soft sage green, with forest green, coral, and peach accents to mirror the hues found in nature. Garlands of fresh blooms hung from the walls, their vibrant colours and delicate scents infusing the air with a heady mix of jasmine, rose, and lavender. Central to the room’s enchantment were the chandeliers, designed to resemble flowering shrubs; their delicate light fixtures seemed to float above the dance floor like ethereal clouds, their soft glow casting an enchanting light that danced with the movements of the guests below.

At the centre of the ballroom, a large, freestanding cabinet dominated the space. This six-sided masterpiece tapered elegantly toward the top, its surfaces adorned with intricate paintings of flowers and delicate garlands that mirrored the floral abundance surrounding it. The cabinet stood as both a work of art and a beacon of curiosity, drawing the eyes of all who entered.

Against the backdrop of tall windows, a platform held a grand chair reserved for Queen Charlotte – though whether she would grace the ton with her presence tonight was anyone’s guess. The chair, upholstered in regal fabrics and adorned with gold accents, was positioned to offer a perfect view of the ballroom and its centrepiece.

Penelope felt rather cheered as she looked around the inviting ballroom; she knew how much Colin liked the Mondriches, therefore, although she’d had very little time to get to know them, Penelope knew that she would like them as well – and it was thrilling to see that their efforts were paying off tonight. If only she still had the power of Lady Whistledown, then she could ensure with one single issue that everyone would see the Mondriches’ ball as a grand success, and they would be welcomed fully into the ton with open arms.

But no. She had said goodbye to that part of her life now. She could never succumb to temptation, no matter how good her intentions were.

‘I have never liked that colour, but it is winning on you,’ Portia said to Penelope warmly, as they crossed the threshold of the ballroom.

‘Oh,’ Penelope said, touched, as she glanced down at her pale blue gown, embellished with flowers. ‘Thank you, Mama.’

She was still not used to the novelty of her mother giving her compliments and smiles. It was alarmingly strange, but in a nice way.

Portia had a huge smile on her face as they joined the crowd and looked around admiringly at the Mondriches’ fine decorations. She looked so happy, so free. It was as if Penelope’s engagement to Colin had brought some new life into her.

‘Ah, wait a moment,’ Portia said, stopping as she looked at Penelope. ‘It just needs straightening out here…’

Penelope smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she watched her mother fuss over her sleeves so attentively.

‘Beautiful job,’ Penelope said softly. ‘Thank you. You…you do not mind then, about my new…wardrobe? The dresses are not very…Featherington-like, I know. I did not wish to offend you when I purchased them.’

‘No. Not at all. You look…you look beautiful, Penelope,’ Portia said, with a wistful, if not slightly sad, sigh. ‘I deeply regret not allowing you to choose your own style and colours earlier. I suppose I am still learning. You would think motherhood gets easier with age.’

Penelope smiled kindly. She had never thought that she would ever feel any sympathy or fondness towards her mother, but then again, stranger things had happened – like getting engaged to Colin Bridgerton, for instance. Who would have thought she would finally have won the heart of both her mother and the boy she had loved since childhood in the space of a few weeks?

‘Now, these gloves are rather daring, I must say,’ Portia said with a smile, as she touched Penelope’s hand.

Penelope glanced at her sheer, fingerless gloves and blushed. ‘I asked Madame Delacroix for some inspiration from the latest fashions in Paris,’ she admitted.

Portia seemed, bizarrely, rather impressed instead of disapproving. ‘How wonderful. Now…where is your dashing fiancé?’ she asked, exhaling in content as she and Penelope scanned the ballroom. ‘Ah, look, there he is!’

Penelope quickly followed her mother’s gaze and smiled, her heart leaping. Colin was stood chatting happily with their hosts, the Mondriches, over in the far corner of the ballroom. He looked even more handsome than usual, in his dark tailored suit and tails. 

‘Oh, Penelope,’ Portia said fondly, and she sighed. ‘He is a fine young man. I always thought he would be, from the very first day we met him as a boy.’

Penelope raised her eyebrows at her mother, surprised. ‘I am surprised you even remember that day.’

Portia chuckled. ‘How could I forget? I do not believe I had ever seen my youngest daughter so happy,’ she said, and she smiled down at Penelope. ‘Did you hold a torch for him the entire time?’

Penelope hesitated and pulled an embarrassed sort of expression. ‘I did,’ she admitted, and Portia titled her head at her.

‘I am sorry you did not feel you were able to tell me about it,’ Portia said, reaching out to fix a loose strand of Penelope’s hair. ‘But I am so glad your wait was worth it. He shall be a wonderful husband to you, I am sure.’

Penelope smiled, rather overcome with emotion to hear her mother speak to her in such a way. ‘So am I,’ she whispered.

‘Now, stop wasting time speaking with your old mother – go and enjoy yourself with him,’ Portia said briskly, turning Penelope around in the direction of Colin.

But, before Penelope could make a move, a distraction then arrived in the form of none other than Queen Charlotte entering the ballroom. A royal servant announced her, and everyone exclaimed and whispered in surprise, bowing and curtseying as she looked around the room with a faint sneer. The Queen wore a deep blue brocade gown trimmed with burgundy, with a matching burgundy wig in tall asymmetrical puffs and waves – she looked extraordinary…and very unimpressed.

The Queen muttered something disdainful, but then, much to everyone’s intrigue, one of the Mondriches’ servants approached the cabinet in the centre of the ballroom, and bent down to turn a hidden crank at the base of it. A soft clinking of gears echoed through the hall as the servant stepped away and the guests began to stare, the room holding its collective breath in anticipation. Slowly, the six sides of the cabinet began to open, each panel lowering with graceful precision. What emerged was a marvel of ingenuity: enormous pleats of paper, artfully coloured and intricately cut to resemble hundreds of blooming flowers. The guests gasped, murmured and chuckled in awe, their faces illuminated by the warm light from the chandelier and the vivid spectacle of the blooming cabinet. The mechanical garden unfurled before the astonished guests, revealing a cascade of yet more vibrant, delicate petals. The display was a riot of colour, each pleat a different shade, together forming a breathtaking vision of a garden in full bloom. Everyone gaped in wonder, some stepping closer to admire the intricate details of the mechanical flowers.

Impressed, Penelope turned anxiously back towards the Queen, and was relieved to see that she was now wearing a satisfied smirk as she eyed the spectacle before her.

‘Not bad,’ she said. ‘Not bad at all.’