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Chapter Text

Rokesby , Episode 1: "Cats and Contretemps"
Scene 5, Take 2, A-Mark

"I need you to remember, you loathe the cat," the director advised, "I liked what you did with your face in the first take, I really do, but I need you to act with your entire body. Be Billie. You have to remember, you're stuck on that roof because you thought you should be chivalrous to a creature that made it up the tree on its own and quite frankly, it didn't need you to rescue it."

"Got it," she replied, nodding in concentration, her mind already racing with the possibilities that laid bare before her, a clear plan of what to do forming within her in mere fragments of seconds. She was a professional, a veteran in the theatre but a novice on a larger screen with a script given to her one stormy London afternoon that she immediately knew would change her life.

"And remember, you have to be able to leave some room for more disdain later. For George."

"That won't be a problem," she replied through gritted teeth. That would, indeed, not be a problem. Her director nodded, saddisfied. The two of them had the chemistry they needed to make this work, he had seen it. They were in the middle of the first block of a four-block shoot and Billie Bridgerton and George Rokesby would steal the hearts of their future audiences, that much was certain.

"Quiet on set!"

"Camera!"

"Background."

"And ... action."

----------------

"I ought to throttle you," she glared down at her feline companion, "you are the reason I am in this mess."

When the cat let out a barely audible but perfectly timed 'meow', she let out a very unladylike growl and eyed the cat suspiciously.

"Do not tell me you understand my every word," she said, shifting her body ever so slightly toward her feline scene partner which was, to everyone's surprise, every bit the professional she had been advertised as. 

The cat, whose name was Bridget she had learned when she had met her scene partner a few hours earlier, assessed the noise and, on perfect cue, plopped down and started to clean her paws.

'How do they train them to do that?' is the single thought that manages to breach the barricades of professionally she had erected around herself and around this scene, knowing that she would be shooting the continuation of it in a few days time - with an additional human scene partner. With ... him.

With quite a bold actor's choice, she let a rather impressive scowl adorn her face before she glanced up at the sky. They had been lucky with the weather thus far and aside from the next two days that they could not use due to the heavy rain that was forecast, their production was running as smoothly as can be. They'd interrupt their location shoot for two days and come back to the cat and the roof and ... and ...

Narrowing her eyes, she studied the sky in order to gauge the time, or, she pretended that she was doing exactly that for the purpose of exposition. Her scene directions had said 'Billie tries to gauge the time in order to estimate whether someone would pass by and help her out of her misery.'

A misery indeed.

"Well, WE are in this mess. This is all because of you," she said, exasperation in her voice and she knew that the second camera was zooming in onto her hand that was firmly pressed onto her right ankle. A very uninjured ankle, it should be added. After all, this was all pretend.

"I don't know what you think you were doing up in that tree," she said, returning her gaze back to the cat, "any fool with eyes would have known better than to climb it. You were very lucky I chose to rescue you."

They would be using a stunt double to replace her for the B-Roll. Tumbling off a tree, albeit being secured by a harness and several pads, should definitely be left to professional stunt doubles. There was no need for the lead actress to seriously injure herself while filming. None.

"Very lucky," she repeated, an ad-lib she was not sure they would keep but she tried it, regardless.

"Hellllllloooooooo? Help!"

She knew how the scene would be aligned with the ones they had yet to shoot. She knew, that he was not in this part of it, the part of it they were shooting right know. She knew she did not have to see him, did not have to work with him. Not today. She knew she was playing Sybilla 'Billie' Bridgerton and he was playing George Rokesby and she knew that they were the leads in this production. She knew all of it.

And Penelope Featherington was scared she would not be able to do it.

She knew her lines, she knew her craft, she knew instinctively what to do and she knew how to do everything professionally. It was just that ... this time it was all so much harder. She soldiered on, pretending to see a person in the distance she needed to ask for help. She untied the bonnet that the lovely wardrobe assistant had helped her put on just minutes earlier for their first take and waved it in the air like a signal. She knew the B-Roll had already been filmed, she had seen some of the footage. His chestnut hair had been slightly ruffled by the wind, as he had blinked rapidly against the sun, his brows furrowed and his eyes narrowed.

She was not used to playing against someone that was not really there, no, not really, but they had given her his footage so she could time her response and she was thankful they had.

"Sir! Help! Please," she called out, her voice almost a full holler.

She let the realization live on her face, allowed the real frustration curse through her veins as she pictured him approaching her, stuck on a roof with a cat and a twisted ankle. She recalled all of her anger she felt toward him, toward his arrogance and his talent and his ... his ...

So she did what she had to do, let her face say 'No, No! NO! Anyone but him, please, anyone but him.'

And then she said: "Good afternoon, George."

"C U T!"

"Did we get it?"

Affirmations all around let Penelope know that the next phase of her afternoon had begun, pick-ups and adjustments but she knew that she was doing excellently. She knew she was good, had earned her breakout star distinctions in the theatre. She might have been knew to a big screen and a film set, that much was true, but she was a natural and able to adjust within mere minutes. Penelope Featherington was a gem.

"Pick-ups, I want an over-the-shoulder shot we can align with the material we've already shot," her director advised, "take five and get yourself some water. We'll go from right before your call out for the stranger in the field."

"Got it," Penelope said and happily accepted her reusable water bottle, filled with ice-cold water. She held her face into the afternoon sun while a wardrobe assistant and a make-up assistant checked her appearance.

'Maybe,' she thought with a small smile, 'this isn't so bad after all. Even if I have to do this with him.'

~~~~~~

Palos Verdes, California, The United States
Twelve weeks prior

Colin Bridgerton opened the door to the four-beedroom-house, nestled into the typical landscape of Southern California and protected by the full service only a gated community could provide. There was nothing he hated more than non-stop meetings instead of doing his actual job, but he realized that in order to be booked for roles his previous ones were not enough. Colin knew there was a potential risk of being typecast, the happy-go-lucky fella that always ended up winning - this was pretty much the story of his life and recently characters that sounded just like him had been the majority of scripts that his agent Mary-Anne had received.

"We need do diversify," Mary-Anne had said this very morning when had finished the cursory read through of the sixth script that wanted ... or rather ... needed Colin to play a character that was almost a hundred per cent himself.

"Are you talking about future roles or the stock market?" Colin had retorted with a grin and a twinkle in his eyes.

"Why can't it be both?" Mary-Anne had quipped back, sticking his tongue out to him and he had thrown the tiny pink stress ball his sister Eloise had snuck into his cabin luggage last Christmas and missed Mary-Anne's head by merely an inch.

His agent had scoffed and reminded him about her rule of not throwing office supplies and when Colin had retorted that a stress ball was technically not typically office supplies, her very impressive eye roll had made him realize that it was his turn to fetch the next round of coffee. He knew that his agent just had his best interest in mind and that she was not afraid to make difficult decisions so that he did not have to make them.

He was glad about that.

He was also glad that they usually moved in sync, agreed on what was best and found the path forward with surprising clarity. Colin appreciated Mary-Anne's alacrity, her knowledge of the ins and outs of Hollywood and her gut feeling that told her when to say 'no' to an offer.

When he had re-entered the room, he had found Mary-Anne standing at the floor length window facing a busy Beverly Hills intersection and when she did not react to the small clink of the coffee pot that was placed on her glass table, Colin cleared his throat.

"Ok," Mary-Anne said, "we've had a dry spell with ... good stuff but Colin, I think ... this is really good."

And now, as he swung the dark-brown messenger bag off his shoulder and placed it on the small bench in the entrance hall of his Palos Verdes home, he could not stop grinning at the prospect of actually starring in 'Rokesby'. Colin had not done a film adaptation of any romance novel or period drama or biography, yet, and his excitement grew exponentially when he found out that this one was actually based on the life of one of his ancestors, Sybilla 'Billie' Bridgerton and the man she would eventually end up with, George. Rokesby.

And it was just called that, 'Rokesby', simple, elegant, and a four-part-miniseries to be, presenting itself for him, practically begging for him to accept the part. And even if he had only read seven pages thus far, Colin Bridgerton was hooked. So much so, that he wanted, no ... needed ... to play George Rokesby.

There was so much to explore, so many things to figure out when playing this character Colin was giddy with excitement. So much so that, in retrospect, it was no wonder he did not pay too much attention.

In retrospect, he should have known.

In retrospect, he should have seen it coming.

In retrospect, he should have asked her to leave much ... much earlier, when he had the strange but fortifying feeling that Marina was lying to him about something.

In retrospect, he should have realized that he had been following sounds into their bedroom. Sounds that would haunt him even years later, reminding him of what she had done to him. Of what she had done to ... them.

In retrospect, he should not have been this calm finding his fiancée leaning against the tall bedroom window, overlooking the lush garden, fully naked. While a man Colin Bridgerton did not know, fucked her from behind, pounding into her with an oblivious abandon that could only be the result of thinking that there was absolutely no way anyone would watch. Would see.

In retrospect, he should not have had to assume that the child his fiancée Marina was currently four months pregnant with was not his. Except that the likelihood of that being the case had now increased by ... a lot.

In retrospect, he should not just have broken a nose.

Marina hurried to cover herself up with their crisp white bed sheet while the man made a quick escape, barely holding back profanities through his bleeding nose and the swelling of his upper lip all the while almost comically stepping into his pants and falling into the bedside table when his right foot got tangled.

"There is no need," Colin snarled as he heard the entrance door shut with a loud noise in the distance, "... to cover yourself up, I mean. I've seen it all."

He gestured along her body with his right index finger, from her head to her pedicured toes peeking out underneath the bedsheet that would not quite reach down to them. Colin was standing in the middle of his bedroom, ... their bedroom ..., tall and calm on the outside while a storm blustered inside of him, with each moment that passed threatening to sink into the smallest capillary, from his hands to his feet, from his elbows to his knees.

"Although I didn't know I wasn't the only one seeing it," he pressed out, barely containing his anger. He ran a hand through his auburn hair in frustration, quietly scoffing at the mere audacity of it all.

"Colin," Marina tried, a desperation in her tone that Colin knew was a hundred per cent fake. She was, after all, an actress. Just as he was an actor. Only that this situation was not make-believe, this was real. And raw. And simply too much.

"Don't," Colin simply said, "don't try to come up with excuses. Don't try to tell me that the child you're carrying is mine. Don't you dare trying to tell me that this was a one-off, that you won't do it any more, that you've made a mistake. Don't do any of this. You know I won't believe you and you know there is absolutely nothing you can say or do that changes that. You have an hour to find the things you need in order to move out of this house and once that hour is up, I want you gone."

When Marina did not answer but just stood there, jutting her chin out in stubborn ignorance, Colin's voice dropped down even lower.

"Did I make myself clear?"

An hour later, Marina Thompson dragged two large silver suitcases after her, left his house and his life, and Colin Bridgerton finally allowed himself to sit down, breathe and pour himself a large glass of whiskey on the rocks.

"Mary-Anne? Yeah, sorry ... yeah ... yeah, listen, I don't need to think about it. Tell them I'll be their George."

Chapter Text

Hollywood, California, The United States
Ten years earlier

Hollywood itself was not something that could be considered glorious and stepping out of Hollywood and Highland station, after ascending the pee-soaked stairs and smelling a weird mixture of despair, delusion and disappointment did nothing but paint the harshest of pictures of what to expect as an aspiring actor or model, flying to the city on a whim, hoping to land a role that would equal the big break or ... any role at all, if one was being completely honest.

Not only did Hollywood smell, it also looked ... not good. They were doing a decent job of cleaning up Hollywood Boulevard for award season, clearly, because the sunken stars in the pavement were missing some edges and lining, the pavement was dirtied by the fumes of the big orange and red busses that blasted past the Chinese Theatre and even the pretzel place across the street, despite being a chain restaurant, had seen much much better days.

Auditions happened around the clock, in worn-down diners, well-lit studio offices, sometimes as a chance meeting in a coffee joint. Los Angeles was full of opportunity, for those who strive to find it and for those that got lucky.

Colin Bridgerton had been one of those ones that were lucky from the get go and it should not have surprised anyone. When he had announced that he intended to make his own way in the world, not fall back on the family money and flew to Los Angeles with just a suitcase of clothes and a head full of dreams, the only person that had actively rooted for him was his younger sister Eloise. She had been the one that sneakily paid for his seat with extra legroom, she had been the one that he had asked to accompany him as his date for his first award nomination just three years later.

Everyone else had ... not been that optimistic.

Colin hadn't minded, except that he had wished his eldest brother Anthony would have believed in him more. The fact that his siblings did not believe in him more never made Colin reconsider his choices, though. It just made him think he should believe in himself even harder.

And when Colin Bridgerton, on his seventh day in the City of Angels, had stepped out of Hollywood and Highland station and caused a berry smoothie to forever stain the white turtleneck of Mary-Anne Moss-Bingley, yes double hyphened as she would constantly have to explain, he had no idea that this would change his life. Or how much.

"Hi, I am Colin."

"Hi, I am Mary-Anne and you're paying for the dry-cleaning of..." the slender, young woman with the blinde pixie cut gestured toward the berry-stained turtleneck that currently had remnants of what was supposed to be a smoothie she would drink on her way to a client's audition drip off it, "...this."

London, England, The United Kingdom
Fifteen years earlier

The sun shone directly in her face and Penelope Featherington enjoyed every single ray of sunshine that would hit her face. She did not mind that this was likely to increase the number of freckles on her face, being a redhead and all. She also did not mind that she was trailing behind ever so slightly as her mother drowned on about her elder sisters and their aspirations and how those were absolutely not up to the Featherington standard.

Mind you, that they were on their way to meet friends for a picknick in Hyde Park and that she was thirteen years old and her sisters were fifteen and seventeen years old.

Penelope did not want to think about growing up, she wanted to think about her new school friend Eloise, how she had just discovered that she was quite good at playing the guitar or how their literature teacher Miss Gilbert had thought she should do more acting in their drama club at school. Penelope had kept it her little secret that Miss Gilbert had whispered 'you're really good on that stage, do you know that?'.

Little did anyone else know, that she also wrote her own stories.

Eloise did, though, because she was the first one that would get to read them.

Eloise would show Penelope the stories she had written, too. They would swap them and then continue them, each adding their own little corners of the story and the character, filling every last nook and cranny  until they would eventually be happy with the result. Entire worlds were created by their time, energy and imagination.

Eloise was her dearest of friends already, Penelope could feel that they would grow older and still be friends, still keep each other's secrets and still meet for picnics in one of the multiple parks around London. It was her overwhelming sense of joy that firmly had tiny, chubby and red-headed Penelope Featherington it its hands that made her start to run toward her friend who was waving vivaciously at her, sitting on a midnight-blue picnic blanket. It was the same overwhelming sense of joy that caused her to miss the red ball that ...

Thud.

And with that thud, Penelope Featheringon was hit in the head with a red ball and face planted into the green grass at her feet mid-stride. When she slowly got back up and blinked furiously, scanning her surroundings for the perpetrator ... it was in that very moment, Penelope fell in love.

Los Angeles International Airport, California, The United States
Eleven weeks prior

Colin had noticed the paparazzi the second the inconspicuous car pulled up at the arrivals at Los Angeles International Airport. 'They have stepped up their game,' Colin grimaced, 'they even know that it's easier and quicker to choose the arrivals level at the airport to reach departures.'

With a groan, he gestured toward them and Mary-Anne sighed.

"It's part of the game," she said, the corners of her mouth desperately trying for form the smile she so clearly forced to appear.

"It's part of the game," Colin repeated, quickly checking that his passport was neatly tucked away and his boarding pass was still where he left it, in the inner pocket of his jacket.

"I'll be in town for the chemistry reading next week," Mary-Anne said as she got out of the car, "they haven't finalized the choice yet, I think they're torn between three."

"As long as none of them is Marina," Colin spat out and his agent stopped and squeezed his arm.

"I've made sure that she isn't," Mary-Anne said quietly, "this is already too much, we don't need you to cross paths so quickly. Besides, she is one thing that Billie Bridgerton decidedly is not."

"Sexually active?" Colin suggested, sarcasm in his tone.

"I was going to go for 'pregnant', but you nailed it," Mary-Anne said, her voice neutral.

"Ahhh," Colin sighed, Marina's pregnancy almost completely forgotten, "that."

"Let's deal with that when we have to," Mary-Anne said, "Agatha has some ideas but she will want to talk to you in person ..."

"Let me guess, as soon as I land?"

"Nailed it again," Mary-Anne laughed and escorted Colin through the nervous, excited, homesick, travel-eager and mostly not-looking airline passengers toward the first class checkin, followed by Colin's body woman.

"Let me know if anything goes wrong," Mary-Anne squeezed his shoulder after Colin's luggage items were checked and they were standing at the entrance of the security checkpoint, an airline representative at his heels, holding his boarding pass.

"So you can fix it. That's what you always do. Fix it," Colin said warmly.

"Apart from that turtleneck. That was unsalvageable."

"Remind me," Colin grinned, "that I'll gift it to the Smithsonian once I win my first Oscar."

"You wish."

Colin Bridgerton grinned a boyish grin and turned to face the security checkpoint, "I wish, indeed."

Nestled in the cabin baggage? The script for a historic romance, based on a Bridgerton relative, Sybilla 'Billie' Bridgerton, the script that he said 'yes' to, the script that had the tips of his fingers tingle with anticipation, that had his mind running on how this would all come to pass. He was looking forward to spending time in England again, after being away for so long. Colin missed his family, missed their country house in Kent and he was desperate for a longer period away from the place that had provided him with so much happiness but lately had caused so much indescribable pain.

Marina's betrayal had been the last missing piece that he had needed in order to adjust his compass to lead him back home. The fact that a script would lead him back home? The fact that it would lead him back to Aubury Hall, too?

Inestimable.

Rokesby , Episode 1: "Cats and Contretemps"
Scene 9, Take 4, A-Mark

Well,” Penelope let her gaze wander into the distance as she once again became Billie Bridgerton for the fourth take of the scene. They had not gotten it right, not completely. Both of them felt it, the director felt it, everyone felt it. But this one, Penelope vowed, this one would be the one they managed to get it right.

It was their first day on set after a two-day weather break and Penelope felt like she had needed the two days off to learn her lines and prepare herself to work in close proximity to ... him. Colin himself had been completely oblivious to her inner turmoil and she had not expected anything else. She hadn't even adopted a new name for her acting career, hadn't changed a single thing except to grow up and Colin Bridgerton had simply ... forgotten.

The had had a chemistry read and the second she had stepped into the room, she was transported way back.

Back to a place she had hoped she would never go back to. Back to a place she was younger, greener and very much in love with Colin Bridgerton. Who was the brother of her best friend. And who was clearly not interested in her ... at all.

"... I suppose there is no one with whom I'd rather be stranded on a roof."

Colin swung his head toward her, becoming George in one swift motion.

"Why, Miss Bridgerton, did I just detect ... a compliment?"

Penelope turned toward him, starting George's and Billie's back and forth that had not been there for their previous three takes.

“You can’t tell?”

“From you?” he parried.

"Well, I suppose I deserved that. But I will have you know that you are very dependable..."

"Dependable?" he repeated, as if he was downright outraged that this was how she described him. 'He is good,' Penelope thought for a second, 'we got this.'

"Very much so," Penelope said her line, nodding for emphasis, "you know, I am absolutely certain that I would have found a way down on my own instead of being stuck on this roof with you."

Penelope could not stop her heart from beating a little bit faster, as the lines between herself and her character threatened to blur.

"I thought," Colin lowered his gaze and assessed the situation, choosing to lean slightly toward Penelope, a change to the previous three attempts to get the scene right. All Penelope could do was to adapt and so she did.

"... you said it was too high to jump. Has that changed?"

"Well, no, but I would have thought of something. I always do."

"I suppose that is true."

Penelope knew that her delivery of the following exchange was the make or break of this exchange and she knew just how to do it. Sitting up a little straighter, she brought a little more distance between them, but forced herself to look at him.

"The point is," she continued slowly, as if to spell it out for him,"that as long as I am here with ... you ..."

Penelope had to admit that Colin was good. His George could pale on cue, take after take, and he did as the gravity of the situation they were depicting once again danced across his face. Only that his George still didn't fully understand what was going on. And this time, Penelope realized with satisfaction, Colin was able to portray that. 'Good', she thought, 'George should be afraid. First comes scandal...'

"What is it?" he whispered, confusion in his trembling voice.

"Well," Penelope's lip tremped, her eyes leaving his but instead looking at the inside of her left hand, "... you don't think ..."

"What?"

"You don't think that someone would think that you and I ... I mean ..." Penelope swallowed before she continued her line, "... the we disappeared ... together?"

"Oh God, no," the reply was instant.

"I know," Penelope's Billie said with equal alacrity, "I mean ... it is you. And it is ... me. It's laughable, really." She shrugged her shoulders for more emphasis, something she hadn't chosen to do in the three previous takes.

"Absolutely absurd."

"Anyone who knows us..."

" ... they'd know we'd never..."

"Never."

"No one would think I was with you ... on purpose!"

"C U T ! "

Penelope immediately retreated and exhaled, relieved to be able to put some distance between them. It had taken her four takes to realize why she had such tremendous difficulties getting it right.

It felt personal.

They felt personal. 

Even though Colin did not remember.

Even the words were just so ... similar.

It hurt. It hurt and Penelope wondered whether she would be able to hang on to the last bits of her sanity, considering they were shooting a historic romance, a script she had devoured in one sitting when it was handed to her one night over drinks.

She wondered why she hadn't felt the pain when she had read the script for the first time, when the contents of Billie's and George's story were becoming images, feelings and the desire to be Billie, to bring her story to a big audience, to let her shine and have her moment. Colin brought the pain, he made her remember it. Oh the irony of it all.

"That was remarkable," their director said, patting Colin on the back who had gotten up rather clumsily and descended the stairs at the back of the roof that were out of sight of the cameras. And after all departments cleared their take, confirmed they got video and audio from everyone involved, just like that, their day was over.

"Great work," Penelope heard Colin approach her with long strides as she was making her way back to the shuttle that would drive them back to their trailers. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, hoping that it would be enough to collect her thoughts and to turn her expression into anything but the true feelings that she was feeling inside. Colin did not have to know, if he didn't remember her at all, maybe it was for the best.

"Thanks," Penelope said and could not prevent a rather curt tone to go with it. It didn't go unnoticed. Of course it did not.

"Did I do something wrong?"

'Not now,' Penelope thought quickly and snorted. Well, great, now he would most definitely know that something was up.

"Just tired is all," Penelope said with a forced smile and the frown she got in return when Colin looked into her eyes and what felt like directly into her soul told her that he did not believe her.

"If you say so," he replied, matching his long strides to her short ones and glancing over and down toward her every other step, "I just ..."

"You just?"

"I just want this to work," he said, eliciting yet another snort from Penelope and his confusion grew tenfold.

"The project ...," he stopped and forced her to stop with him in the middle of production employees that were finishing up their day as well, "I really want to do it, I really want to be George. And I really want you to be Billie. It's a family story, it's something I would very much like to see come alive, letting us tell their story, you know?"

There were two things Penelope realized in that very moment. One, Colin Bridgerton really did not remember her. Two, Colin Bridgerton had not the slightest clue who had written the novel the script was based on.

"Trust me," Penelope pressed out after a long moment of deliberation, "you and I want the same things."

"I am glad."

"Good night, Bridgerton," Penelope said as she spotted their cast PA waving at her from a few feet away.

"Good night, Featherington," Colin replied, feeling an odd sense of deja-vu.

London, England, The United Kingdom
Wentworth Studios, Alastair Wentworth Building
Ten weeks earlier

"Nervous, Potter?" Mary-Anne said, as she handed Colin a fresh gum and a water bottle.

"Counter question, are you trying to make me pee on purpose?"

"I am trying to keep you hydrated, you're my client after all," Mary-Anne quipped back with a sly smile.

"And the gum?"

"You really need to start reading your lines before you do ..." she gestured about the room," one of those."

"One of ..."

"It is a chemistry read," Mary-Anne deadpanned, "and I don't want your breath to smell funny."

"My breath smells funny?"

"On occasion? Yes."

"I am finding this out after decades of working together?"

"It hasn't been multiple decades..."

"DECADES!"

"Colin."

"Maaaaaaaaary-Anne," Colin dragged on her name, fully aware of how much it annoyed her, "loosen up, I can do this. You said the narrowed it down to three, right?"

"That's it," her agent said, thankful for the change of topic, "they're all from the UK, two are from England and one is from Scotland. They've kept her in because she's apparently stunning ... but they're worried it'll be too much work for the voice coach to help with that thick accent of hers."

"I see," Colin said.

"The point of the entire thing," Mary-Anne said, her tone very much mother-to-a-small-child, "is to figure out whether you have chemistry with any of the three. If they're not satisfied with either one, they're going to keep looking."

"Who is your favorite?"

Mary-Anne deadpanned, not expecting the question at all.

"Come on, you must know who they are. It makes sense not to tell me, authenticity and all, but you gotta have a favorite!"

"Maybe," Mary-Anne hedged.

"And...?"

"Well, we are about to find out whether she is your favorite, too."

Rokesby , Chemistry Read #1
Episode 2, "Debutantes and Dalliances"
Scene 16

"If I were drunk, I might somehow forget that I am at the mercy of the rest of the GODDAMN world!"

"Pardon?"

"If Edward is found..."

"When he is found!"

"Either way, it won't be because of ME!"

"What do you want to do?"

"What do I want ... to do ...." Colin let his gaze wander over the face of the first actress he was doing the scene with and he was already bored. She was lovely, a brunette, slender and athletic young woman, almost his height and very much lovely. She had a soft face, perfect eyebrows and she was well prepared for their read which, in Colin's opinion, was part of the problem. She wasn't allowing him to meet ... her. She was allowing him to meet her in character. That was entirely different.

"I want ... I want ... I want you."

Before they could even go on any further, the director interrupted the read with a loud clearing of his throat. Colin stepped back from his scene partner and took a deep breath, not realizing that he had been holding it after the last line had been uttered. This wasn't her, this wasn't Billie. He knew it, Mary-Anne knew it, the director knew it, the producers knew it. There was no need to continue.

~~~~~

Rokesby , Chemistry Read #2
Episode 2, "Debutantes and Dalliances"
Scene 16

"If I were drunk, I might somehow forget that I am at the mercy of the rest of the GODDAMN world!"

"Pardon?"

"If Edward is found..."

"WHEN he is found!" His second scene partner almost screamed the 'when' and Colin scrunched his nose. An interesting actor's choice. One he did not fully understand.

"Either way, it won't be because of ME!"

"What do you want to do?"

"Well, thank you Patricia," the director cut in, after a brief exchange of glances at the table he was sat at. They were all in agreement, the second actress was also not going to become Billie Bridgerton. Colin pitied the poor girl that would be partnered with him for the last of the chemistry reads that day. Of course she would not know that the first two reads had been unsuccessful in creating even the slightest sliver of a spark, she would go into this chemistry read like she'd go into any audition. Colin tried to do the same and felt his shoulders tense, regardless. He wanted to find the perfect Billie for his George, so much so, that he tensed up thinking they might have to start looking even further.

"Hey," Mary-Anne approached him, handing him a fresh gum in one hand and a tissue to dispose of the used one.

"I am sorry," he said, deflated.

"What are you sorry for?" she asked, one of her brows arched up until it almost disappeared underneath her fringe.

"This hasn't worked out. Did I screw it up with your favorite?"

Mary-Anne chuckled and Colin knew that #3 was the one Mary-Anne considered perfect for the role and it gave him a much needed spark of hope.

"Ohhhhhh, well, let's see her, then!" Mary-Anne grinned, went to the door, opened it and peeked around the corner. "Miss Featherington? Would you like to come in?"

~~~~~

This time it was different. This time, the air was laded with something Colin could not fully explain. When he looked down at her, she looked up at him with the fierceness that he felt was Billie but also her. She knew what it felt like to make her very own way in this world, it felt like she had experienced it, knew what it was like. Colin believed her and yet he saw glimpses of who she was, too.

Rokesby , Chemistry Read #3
Episode 2, "Debutantes and Dalliances"
Scene 16

"If I were drunk, I might somehow forget that I am at the mercy of the rest of the GODDAMN world!"

"Pardon?"

"If Edward is found..."

"When ... he is found!"

"Either way, it won't be because of ME!"

"What do you want to do?"

"What do I want ... to do ...." Colin echoed her lines and looked back down and into her eyes, which were widening in response. He involuntarily glanced at her lips, plump and rosy and he wasn't sure whether he was blurring the lines a little but too much but ...

"I want ... I want ... I want you."

"I want ... you," Colin repeated his line with more fierceness and determination and he stepped closer to her.

"You really don't want to do this," Penelope let out a breath and let the confusion dance on her face. Forgotten were the director, the producers and Colin's agent who were onlookers to the scene they were doing. Forgotten was the fact that she was playing opposite of Colin Bridgerton, her best friend's brother and the man she had been hopelessly in love with for ... well. Forgotten was the fact that she was supposed to loathe him. She was Billie Bridgerton, sh could feel it. And she felt that Colin knew it, too. They would have to do this and ... and ... 

"Oh I do. I really do."

Penelope wanted him to mean it, she realized with a jolt of surprise, she wanted Colin to mean it. Not George, but Colin. She closed her eyes and fought down her frustration. 'Not now, Penelope, especially not now. He is acting and you are acting. Get it together!' she thought and opened her eyes again to find Colin standing even closer, the air between them growing hot.

"You don't know what you're doing," she said, edging back as step to increase the distance between them, her eyes firmly interlocked with his.

"Is that what you think?"

"You've been drinking."

"Just enough to make this perfect." Penelope blinked in rapid succession.

"Come on now, Billie. Why so hesitant? That's not like you."

"This ,... " Penelope marked the shrinking space between them with her hands, "... isn't like YOU."

"You have no idea." Colin reached out to touch her arm and Penelope closed her eyes again, just for a brief moment. How long had it been? Years, surely. A decade? Most likely. And here she was, standing in a room under the watchful eyes of people that decided whether or not she would star in a historic romance adaptation alongside ... him ... and Penelope was absolutely certain that Colin Bridgerton did not know that he had touched her before. Had met her. Knew who she was.

Splendid.

"When have you ever backed down from a dare?"

"Never!" Penelope declared, staring him straight into the eye. Colin smiled and his gaze grew even hotter than before.

"That's my girl..."

"I am not!..."

"You will be," he growled and Penelope knew what came next just before Colin's lips pressed fiercely into hers.

They broke apart when they heard several throats clearing and Colin heard Mary-Anne exclaim: "I think we have our Billie."

Penelope thanked the producers and the director, exchanged a weird handshake with Colin and practically flew out of the room a few moments later. She hurriedly retrieved her smartphone, unlocked it and dialed the number that sat right at the top of her favorites.

"Eloise? It's me. I think I just kissed your brother."

Chapter Text

New York City, The United States
Nine months later
Rokesby, press tour

Rokesby was close to being completely done with post-production and the ever so predictable cycle or advertisement for it had just begun two days ago. Colin stepped into the expensive hotel room, overlooking the skyline of New York and sighed. Another day of media appearances awaited him and his co-stars and since he had been a part of the business for a longer period of time, he had been accustomed to the demands of the media circus that came with his line of work. Most of the other actors were seasoned professionals as well, so they endured the process with a startling calmness but Colin was not certain Penelope was doing well.

The entire process of filming had been ... 

A revelation.

Colin was ready to do penance for his actions and today was going to be one first step to do exactly that. He would go out there and tell the world just how good Penelope really was, how she was as talented as she was fierce, how she was as determined as she was kind, how she was as lovely as she was intelligent. She was so much more than he had known, so much more than he had seen. It had taken Colin Bridgerton almost sixteen years to realize that he had been a gigantic fool. Splendid.

"Are you ready? They're waiting," Mary-Anne's voice transported him back into the present.

"Almost," Colin replied, running his hands through his hair.

"It'll be fine," Mary-Anne tried to assure him but Colin was not too sure that was true. That it could be true.

"How can it be fine, Mary-Anne," he replied, a hopelessness in his voice, "when I've screwed this up again?"

From the yellow pages:

(Los Angeles, dpa) A spokesperson for actor Colin Bridgerton (32), Mary-Anne Moss-Bingley confirmed the actor has ended his relationship with fellow actress Marina Thompson (26) after a six-month engagement. Reasons for the separation were not given. Miss Thompson is currently four-months pregnant with her first child.

---

(Los Angeles, The Sun) Actor Colin Bridgerton (32) was seen at Los Angeles International Airport, apparently London-bound. Sources close to the actor confirm that he is currently not involved in any filming production. Sources also confirm that Mr Bridgerton is traveling alone, despite rumors of a new woman at his side.

---

(London, Paris, Berlin, AP) Production is officially under way for Rokesby, an adaptation of the first in the novel series of the same name. It stars actor Colin Bridgerton (32) als George Rokesby. More details have yet to be published.

"What do you mean, you just kissed my brother?" Penelope closed her eyes and even though this was no video call because no, none of those, ever, she could 'see' the face her best friend was making as if she was standing right before her.

"Just like I said, Eloise, I just kissed your brother."

"Now wait a damn minute...," Penelope heard Eloise move to a different room, "sorry, I gotta get out there, the twins just fell asleep and I am very much keen on keeping it that way." A door closed quietly in the background and Penelope heard several footsteps before Eloise spoke again-

"Ok, now .. which one? Anthony and Benedict are married, Penelope. Gregory is way too young, what am I missing?"

Penelope rolled her eyes in exasperation and simply waited for Eloise to connect the dots. When the silence dragged on, Penelope said: "The other one."

"... wait, what? I didn't even know Colin was back in London and you're telling me you just ... kissed him?"

Groaning, Penelope picked up her pace and pushed the door open in order to step outside. Greedily, she breathed in several times and let the air fill out her lungs. She was calming down with every step she made, with every second that she did not spend in Colin's presence. How was she supposed to pretend? How was she supposed to play Billie now, knowing that he'd be George?

This had been brutal already. Draining. Exhausting.

How was this supposed to work?

"Remember I told you about the audition I was going to have today?"

"Yes?" Eloise asked, hesitantly.

"The one for ... you know ..."

"Oh."

"It was a chemistry read. They have cast the male lead."

"Oh."

"He's George."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"How did I not know about this?"

"You wrote the novels under a pen name, Eloise. He probably doesn't even know it is your work this is all based on."

"No."

"Yes."

"Oh God."

"Yes."

"I am so very sorry, I should have ... I should not ... this ... wow. Umm, how ... do you feel about it?"

"Eloise, I just kissed your brother."

"I know."

"And I have to do it again."

"I know."

"I can't do this."

The silence was deafening as the two friends pondered the possibilities.

"I think you can," Eloise said after what felt like fifteen minutes of silence, "I know you can. Does he remember?"

"No."

Eloise snorted.

"Do you want him to?"

"Oh God, no!" Penelope shrieked.

"So ... we should keep this between us?"

"Yes," Penelope pressed out.

"When does filming start?"

"Next week."

"That soon?"

"They have started production months ago, I was told. Did several parts of the first block already, filmed several B-rolls. Had trouble finding the leads. It is all very much out of order, that one, but they're confident that we can catch up. They wanted to cast Colin with his fiancée but that ... didn't work."

"No," Eloise said, bitterness in her voice, "that it did not."

"Did he tell you?"

"About what?"

"What happened?"

"Yes. He called. Right after. Said I was the first person he called after accepting a new role, too. I had no idea it was for Rokesby, Penelope, again, I am so sorry. I thought it was a spur of the moment decision, you know how he makes those ..."

"Yeah ..."

"I thought he was doing it to prove a point but he sounded pretty happy about the role so I didn't actually ask him about it. I probably should have ... shit, Penelope, had I known I would never have encouraged you to go to that audition today, let alone a chemistry read."

"You have no part in this, Eloise," Penelope said, "none of this could ever be your fault."

"You wanna come out to see us?" Eloise cut in, rather abruptly.

"Very much, yes."

"Then hurry," Eloise said, her voice gentle and motherly at the same time and Penelope felt the strangest sensation bubbling up inside of her. The relief she felt almost brought tears into her eyes and Penelope took a few greedy gulps of air. This was going to be ok, Eloise could make things right, she always did.

"I'll have your room waiting for you and I will await you with a steaming mug of peppermint tea. Come out, see us, recharge. And then go kick my brother's ass!"

London, England, The United Kingdom
Fourteen years earlier

Eloise Bridgerton and Penelope Featherington had become inseparable, the kind of friend Penelope always wished to have. Eloise was her escape when her overbearing mother would be too much, her sisters would be too mean and school overwhelmed her. Philippa and Prudence had never really known what do make of Penelope in the first place, a bookworm that one, not really interested in interacting with her older sisters so apart from snarky remarks there was not much the three of them had in common.

Eloise's mother, Violet Bridgerton, quickly integrated young Penelope into her large family and Penelope fit right in with the Bridgerton brood, from A as in Anthony to G as in Gregory.

With each day that passed, Penelope Featheringon became more and more sure that, while her love for Colin grew and grew and grew, he barely knew she existed. So she sat in the corner of the room, stealing glances at Colin from time to time and readied herself for the inevitable acceptance of it all. She knew she needed to forget the butterflies that came very much alive in her stomach whenever he was around, the furious blush that appeared on her cheeks when he called her 'Pen' instead of Penelope, she understood that her love would always be unrequited.

Colin Bridgerton was beautiful.

She, on the other hand, was not.

Oh, she despised the story of the ugly duckling and the focus on appearance that determined relationships wherever she looked. She could, however, not deny that even if she were prettier, she would still be too shy to tell him.

No one had told her to fall in love with Colin Bridgerton. No one could make her fall out of love, either. That would have to come with time.

So she resorted to looking.

And daydreaming.

Beverly Hills, California, The United States
Two years prior

Another award, another ballroom.

He felt the energy shift in the room and turned around to find the reason being fellow actress Marina Thompson. More like, Marina Thompso's black dress. Nearly all men in the room were openly staring and Colin saw a few women stare, too. Some with pure undisguised lust, some with an equally displayed jealousy.

Marina Thompson was beautiful, that much Colin had to admit.

Not the average beauty, if anyone ever knew what that was. She came from a rural part of the country, her talent a chance-discovery by a relentless teacher that had helped get her a scholarship. Not that Marina had told Colin that. He had read it in a gossip magazine, Whistledown.

"Hi," a low voice said and Colin blinked.

"Hi," he replied, a little dumbstruck.

"Now, now, Mr Bridgerton," Marina teased, "I didn't think you'd be the shy type of man."

Colin cleared his throat. Loudly.

"I am usually ... not," he said, drowning the remnants of the champagne that was left in the flute he was holding.

"Usually?"

"Usually."

Colin knew from the wink that she gave him at that, that he was in trouble.

New York City, The United States
Nine months later
Rokesby, press tour

"Thank you for stopping by," the interviewer said, as he sat down in front of a large Rokesby cover poster that featured himself and his co-star Penelope Featherington in a tight embrace. He hadn't dared looking at it as he entered, knowing that the knot deep down in his stomach would only tighten, the sinking feeling that no matter what he did, there was nothing that could be done to fix this.

To fix them.

Penelope would never forgive him and to be quite honest, Colin understood fully why that was.

He had been a complete asshole. Stupid. Arrogant. Not a care in the world for her feelings. He should have known. Should have remembered. Should not have dismissed the odd sense of deja-vu when they were together.

"Thank you for having me," he said politely.

"So," the interviewer looked up from her cue cards, "Colin Bridgerton is starring in an adaptation of a romance novel. This is ... new."

"Totally," he acquiesced, "but I think it'll be something fans will enjoy."

"What can you tell us about the story?"

"Without giving too much away," Colin said, remembering the very tight guidelines that he was given by production, "see, I cannot give you too many spoilers, my character, George, had a tragic thing happen to himself and his family and that made him realize that he's gotten it all wrong. You will see my character trying to make things right."

"Does he succeed?"

"That," Colin laughed," would be a spoiler. I can tell you this much: He's trying very hard."

"Tell me about your co-star," the interviewe said and even if Colin knew this question was inevitable, he didn't feel prepared to answer it in a way that felt right, especially given their complicated past. A past that no one knew about.

"Well, it was very confusing," Colin said, "Penelope plays a Bridgerton and I am a Bridgerton. Once someone called out 'Bridgerton' on set and we would both turn around. It was hilarious."

"I imagine," the interviewer replied but her encouraging smile told Colin that she would love to know more. He sighed inaudibly and continued: "Penelope is so talented, really, I am fortunate to be able to play alongside her. No one else could have been Billie Bridgerton, just her. From the first chemistry read, no, from the first moment we met, I've known that. If you have not seen her latest play that's on London's West End right now, you should definitely check it out."

"Is that the reason why she is starting the press tour in two weeks and not today?" the interviewer asked, the question not handed in beforehand but Colin knew he could answer this one without breeching any rule the production had set.

"The very same," he provided, "and I can't wait for everyone to meet her and for you all to enjoy her as Billie Bridgerton."

"She's that good, eh?"

"That good, indeed."

Rokesby , Episode 3: "Echos and Everafter"
Scene 29, Take 1, A-Mark

"You take over right from the moment the fire is extinguished," the stunt coordinator said, briefing Penelope on how the scene would be picked up.

"Remember it was an accident and you have saved the poor girl's life. You know that, you show that. Only no one else will understand it," the director said, "and Billie realized that soon after. I need to see it. I know its been a long day but I also know you can do this. I think you can do this in one take, too."

"You think?"

"I believe."

"Alright, let's do this," Penelope said and clapped her hands together, the sound muffled by the long white gloves she was wearing.

"Give me a good stomp!" the director chuckled and Penelope could not help it, she chuckled back. It had been a long, tiring day. She was dead on her feet, but so was everyone else. The room was full of extras in their robes, with their hair and makeup done.

"Alright everyone, let's do this."

"Marks, quiet on set!"

"Camera!"

"Rolling!"

"Background."

"And ... action."

Penelope pretended to stomp out the rest of the flames and a very real remnant of the fumes escaped from underneath the soles of her shoes. A small smile of triumph played on the corners of the mouth as she faced the camera that was directed at her face. Penelope knew that her character was waiting for some form of approval from those around her, thanking her for being so brave, thanking her for saving some other debutante's life. And, just as it was written, those never came.

Penelope raised her chin and looked around while her face changed its expression to disbelief.

Why was no one thanking her?

What was going on? She was Billie Bridgerton and Billie had just bravely bested the smoldering of someone's dress, had known extinctively what to do. Penelope knew the source material, knew the script and knew where this was headed so her expression turned even more doubtful when the silence continued.

And then, with one of the cameras still firmly on her face, hr mouth formed a little 'oh' when Penelope's character realized that everyone around her though she had set fire to the debutante's dress in the first place.

"C U T !"

"That is it, that is exactly it," the director exclaimed and after confirming that they, indeed, had done it in one single take and all three cameras had gotten the shot exactly right, the boom operator gave the ok for sound, just like that, their day was over.

Pats on backs, loud laughter, relieved sighs. Penelope could not wait to get out of hair and makeup and be done for the day. She dreaded the fact that she knew that there was one thing she could not escape from.

Talking to him.

They had gotten through the second block with no difficulties, their on-screen banter and witty exchanges bouncing off each other effortlessly. A few days ago, however, their intimacy coaching had intensified, preparing them for the third block of shooting. That one contained, among other more juicy ones, the scene they had done at their chemistry reading and Penelope had known this would eventually happen. She had, however, underestimated that the reaction to it would be plainly visible on her face.

Colin had seen.

And Colin had asked.

"Should we rehearse it again, after you're done tonight?"

Not knowing what else she should be saying, she let out a shaky "yes" and that was that.

~~~~~

It had occurred to Colin Bridgerton on that very same day, that something was going on and that he was not included. The awful sinking feeling deep down in his gut that he ought to know what it was, since it appeared to involve him, too, but the immediate realization that he had no fucking clue what was going on. For as long as he had been away in the United States to pursue his acting career, Colin had been the one to exclude others from his life whether he was doing it knowingly or unknowingly, he was doing it. He was in control of who he allowed in, although given the disastrous ending of his engagement with Marina Thompson, clearly he was not doing a good job of selecting the right people to include in his life.

That much was painfully clear.

Colin also knew that he kept hurting his siblings by staying away for long periods of time. Seeing him on television, getting a few calls in-between wasn't cutting it any more. Especially now since some of is siblings had started families and he had, in turn, started to miss birthdays, christenings and name days.

Returning to England, returning to London but most importantly returning to Aubury Hall and re-connecting with his siblings had made one thing abundantly clear: Colin, during his quest for fame, success and glory, had forgotten how to be a brother.

He realized that now while he was sitting in Penelope's trailer, awaiting her return from hair and makeup after a long day of shooting.

The sense of deja-vu he kept feeling with her, the strange sensation in his stomach whenever he would catch her looking at him in-between takes ... Colin felt like he was losing his mind.

They worked remarkably well together, Penelope and him, so much so that they were ahead of schedule and the material he had seen thus far was so promising that he had called his sister on a whim, waking her twins in the process which had caused Eloise to cease all communications for an entire week. Waking Amanda and George was a sin in the Crane household and Colin really should have known better.

Liv, their intimacy coordinator, had visited earlier and brought the schedule for the upcoming block that included all of George and Billie's more intimate scenes that needed to be coordinated, choreographed, blocked and shot.

Colin had seen it then.

The panic on Penelope's face.

When Liv had left minutes later, he had cleared his throat as soon as the door clicked shut.

"Should we rehearse it again, after you're done tonight?"

"That might be very late," Penelope had replied.

"I don't care, I am off tomorrow. And so are you. Let's do the one from the chemistry read, ease into things."

"Right..." Penelope had sounded doubtful.

"We gotta do it, eventually," Colin said, matter-of-factly and despite this being the truth, Penelope still flinched. Colin's brows furrowed. Odd.

"So, should we rehearse it again, after you're done tonight?"

This time, Penelope replied with a quiet "yes".

Rokesby , Episode 2: "Debutantes and Dalliances"
Private rehearsal, on the set of Rokesby
Penelope Featherington's trailer

"When have you ever backed down from a dare?" Colin read the line off the script in his hand.

"Never!" Penelope declared, staring him straight into the eye.

"I liked that."

Penelope looked up from the next line of dialogue and furrowed her brow in confusion.

"At the chemistry read. You looked me straight into the eye when you did that. You've done that again just now. I think it's perfect. It's Billie, it's exactly what Billie would do."

"Oh," Penelope let out and a tint of pink appeared on the apples of her cheeks. She had returned from hair and makeup ten minutes ago, fresh-faced, finally out of the heavy makeup they used for filing. She had freckles, Colin realized with a jolt and the strange feeling of deja-vu that had been haunting him for the past several weeks. Did he know her? The feeling intensified as he thought and Colin furrowed his brows, desperately trying to remember whether he did, in fact, know Penelope Featherington.

"Do you want to continue?" Penelope asked when the silence dragged on longer than it should.

"Oh, yes, right, where were we? Oh yes..." Colin scrambled to jump back to the lines in his hands and continued to read.

"That's my girl..."

"I am not ..."

"You will be," Colin growled and stepped closer to her in order to kiss Penelope and ...

"Yeah, I think we got that," the redhead said and stepped back to place the script on the table in the corner, "we should have no problems."

"Penelope," he warned, "I think we have a problem."

"What do you mean?" she pretended not to know what he meant.

"That is the part where we ... kiss ...," Colin said, pointing his right index finger at the script in his hand, "... clearly you remember that, hell, you just read that. You hurry away from me like I am contagious. We are supposed to be shooting that scene soon, Penelope, and I don't think we can do that if I don't know what's going on."

"You really do not remember, do you?" Penelope turned around to face him, her petite form growing with the size of her anger. Her head was shaking with a mixture of fury and disappointment, a hot red rage cursing through her and so many unwelcome feelings invading her mind and her soul, like the constant patter of rain they could hear outside. 

"I do not even know what I am supposed to be remembering," Colin groaned out, his voice frustrated as he tugged on his right ear. For a brief moment, Penelope reminisced about the fact that Colin had tugged his right ear whenever something bothered him. She remembered it all, every last detail.

"That is quite the point, now, isn't it?"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Colin retorted, his level of frustration almost at the breaking point. Why would she not straight up tell him? This wasn't hard, she just had to tell him what was going on so they could let whatever it was go and move on.

"If you knew what you are supposed to be remembering, you would remember it and you would not need to ask me!"

"Good Lord, woman," Colin shouted, "can you stop talking in riddles? You and I both had a long day, we are both tired but you are not making any sense. Like, at all."

Why was Penelope so fucking mad at him, what on Earth had he done to deserve her wrath?

"You really do not remember," she repeated quietly, more to herself than to him and Colin had to crane his neck and strain his ears to be able to hear her despite them standing just mere feet apart.

"Penelope," he said softly, "I genuinely don't. How can I fix this?"

"You can't," she turned around, "even if you took it back, you can't. It is just something I can't forget and I don't think it is something I can forgive. It's just hard to pretend, is all."

"Pretend ... what?"

"Pretend that I don't know you, Colin Bridgerton," Penelope spat out, "because I do. I've known you for fifteen years."

Aubrey Hall, Kent
England, The United Kingdom
Eleven years prior

"Most definitely not," Anthony pouted, "Kate did not win."

"She did," Hyacinth exclaimed, "and you lost, dear brother. Face it, she beat you. Finally, Anthony Bridgerton found someone that can beat him at Pall Mall."

Daphne, who was walking several feet behind them, her arm intertwined with her husband Simon's, added: "I never thought I'd live to see the day."

"Neither did I," Colin quipped from further behind.

Anthony groaned.

Kate, her sister Edwina and Penelope were trailing behind, the three of them laughing and relishing in the fact that Anthony had, in fact, lost. Penelope had gained a few freckles while staying in Kent with the Bridgertons, her hair moving in the afternoon breeze and she was still stealing glances at Colin from time to time. She had never stopped loving him, no, that never happened. But she had slipped back into the arrangement she had with herself, retreating back into the reality of existing in the same space as Colin Bridgerton but not being loved by him.

They had formed an unlikely friendship of sorts, when Penelope ignited the passion for writing in him. She was honored when he had handed her the first pages of his absolutely illegible handwriting, and she had brought a tray of chocolate chip muffins when she visited the Bridgerton's next.

Colin had confided in her, telling Penelope about his plans of becoming an actor. Eloise knew, too. He had told them this was going to be the last summer he would be spending at home before he planned to go to America to 'make it big or go home.'

~~~~~

Penelope had ventured out into the gardens of Aubury Hall the same night. She had underestimated how hard it would be coming here for a few weeks over the summer, knowing that she would be staying here with ...

Well. Colin.

Penelope held her breath when she heard several sets of footsteps approaching her location. The raucous laughter told her quickly who it was, Anthony, Benedict and Colin Bridgerton. Not wanting to eavesdrop, Penelope slowly got up from the bench in the gazebo but the footsteps had halted, too. She knew that she would be detected if she dared to move so she didn't and instead stood there in complete silence, tightening her cardigan around her as a sudden gust of air rushed around her.

"She has been relentless," Benedict admitted with a chuckle, "but you're way too young for her to ..."

"... point that out," Anthony finished the sentence and Penelope thought she heard the small clink of two bottles before Anthony continued, "I thought she was busy with me but it looks like mother is able to multitask."

"Oh don't even start," Benedict groaned, "she's been ... hinting ... with me, too."

"What's the gist?" Colin asked, "Is it about grandchildren with you, too?"

"Pretty much," Benedict sighed, "I really think Daphne needs to wait to tell her about the second one. That will buy us more time."

"That desperate, eh?" Colin laughed.

"Yep," Benedict laughed back at his brother, emphasizing the 'p' with a loud 'plop'.

"She's been mentioning Penelope a lot, actually," Colin continued after a brief moment of silence and the latter, still standing in the gazebo, froze.

"As if I'd ever be with Penelope ... on purpose."

"Colin ..." Benedict said, rather softly and he must have stopped to face his younger brother because the sounds of their footsteps on the gravel path had ceased.

"I like her," Colin continued, as if he had not heard his brother and just paused for another sip of his beer, "I do, don't look at me like that. She is ... I consider her a friend, Benedict, but mother is way out of line here."

"Colin," Anthony warned, but an uncertainty tainted what was meant to silence Colin.

"You know I am right," Colin continued, "I am way too young to get married, I don't even know what to do with my life. She should not drag Penelope into this. She doesn't deserve that. We'd both be absolutely miserable."

"Have you seen the girl looking at you?" Anthony asked, and Penelope could swear that his right eyebrow was raised in that very moment. Despite the complete ridiculousness of the situation and the fact that she was absolutely deflated having Colin confirm what she - deep down inside of her - already knew, Penelope knew that Anthony 'saw' her. He always had, always would. Anthony Bridgerton, despite his rakish and roguish ways and his very interesting infatuation with Kate Sharma he would never admit to have, Anthony was honorable and kind, never allowed an injustice to happen if he couldn't help it.

"I know she likes me, but..."

"Likes?" Anthony interjected, "oh dear brother, I am afraid 'like' is not going to cut it here."

"Whatever," Colin spat out, "doesn't change the fact that I would never be with her."

Penelope knew that the path back to the house would lead her right past the three Bridgerton brothers and the gravel path would make it impossible for them not to hear her approaching but something inside of her snapped. She was done being the person that sunk back into the shadows, this ended now. So she had it confirmed, she was the one liking Colin and he was the one clearly not liking her back. She had known, now she had it confirmed.

Time to move on.

And she moved. Holding her head high, she walked right past Anthony, Benedict and Colin and said: "Gentleman?"

All three Bridgertons mumbled something incomprehensible and Penelope made herself face Aubury Hall, feeling them looking at her retreating form as she almost ran toward the country house. The only person catching Colin looking after her with a wistful expression on his face, was Benedict.

"Well, shit," Anthony said and drowned the remnants of his beer.

Chapter Text

Rokesby , Episode 1: "Cats and Contretemps"
Scene 12, Take 2, A-Mark

"I know what you're thinking... ," Penelope's Billie said, peeking out underneath her eyelashes and watched Colin as George unclench his jaw before he responded.

"I am not certain that you do."

"You're trying to decide which of us you'd rather to throw off the roof. Me or the cat."

"Hmmm..."

"I was only trying to help."

"I know," he said curtly.

"If I hadn't grabbed you, you would have fallen."

"I KNOW."

He was not facing her as they were sat on the roof and Billie realized that George usually got his wish when he wanted a conversation to end. She would not be Billie if she allowed that to affect her, though. And so she said:

"It was your foot, you know."

Just a subtle movement, this was all she got from him.

"Your foot. It kicked the ladder."

"You're not blaming the situation on me, are you?"

"Certainly not," Billie replied, "I was merely making a point."

She knew she was going off script here, she knew she was going off the things they had blocked before but she decided this was an opportunity and she wanted to take it. To her utmost surprise, it took him only moments to catch on.

"When are you not..." his voice trailed off into nothingness as he pretended to overlook the vast countryside, "Miss Sibilla Bridgerton, the bane of my existence."

She snorted.

"C U T !"

Grinning widely, Penelope rose from her position on the roof and allowed herself to relax. They were nailing it, she could feel it. Sparks were flying between their characters, they were becoming George and Billie and this was ... fun?

"This is fun," Colin said with a boyish grin as he faced her and Penelope's heart stuttered before it picked up a much faster pace and threatened to break through her skin as she grinned back happily. 

"This is fun," she confirmed, "good stuff with the ad-lib."

"You, too," he replied, "I like it. I like you."

Penelope's eyes widened in shock. She'd never expect him to say anything like that, never. Except that he had.

"Thank you," was all she knew to say and Colin clearly had not expected that to be the answer. Still, with a newly broken up engagement, everyone would be treading those waters carefully now, wouldn't they? At least that was what Penelope tried to tell herself as she desperately tried to calm down her beating heart. Thankfully, he would never know that her palms had gotten terribly sweaty, too.

When the phone rang for the fifth time, urgent and insistent, Benedict could not ignore it for much longer. Groaning, he left the comfortable spot on the couch and slowly walked over to the side table where he had placed his phone. As he made slow deliberate steps toward it, Benedict realized that his phone was set to ring only if his family members called and that had him on high alert instantly. He grabbed the phone and to Benedict's surprise, it was Colin's face that appeared on the screen.

"Christ, Colin. What?"

"Well, hello to you, too, brother. So lovely for you to pick up. How have you been?"

"Piss off, Colin," Benedict huffed, "you never call. Why are you calling five times in rapid succession at ..."

He glanced at his watch.

" ... Colin, it is 11:53pm."

"I know."

"Some people sleep at this hour."

"You are awake."

"Clearly."

"That means your point is moot."

"Which one?"

"You didn't sleep."

"So?"

"That means I didn't wake you up."

"No, but ..."

"Ben..."

"Colin. Why did you call, did something happen?" Benedict asked, suddenly realizing that this might well be the case. Colin did not call, especially not this late at night. Something was amiss.

"As a matter of fact, it did. But not today. Eleven years ago."

"What?" Benedict ran his free hand through his auburn hair.

"Yeah."

"You're not making much sense."

"I am not, are I?"

"Not much, why don't you ... I don't know ... explain?"

When Colin was done narrating the events of the evening and finished it off with a loud sigh, Benedict cleared his throat.

"I cannot believe you didn't remember your sister's best friend. She has spent so much time at our house when we were younger, quite frankly, I'd be pissed if that were me."

"She's ... Ben, she is magnificent."

"I ... beg your pardon?"

"She's so good at what she does, Ben, honestly. Once you see it, and trust me I will drag the entire family to see it, she will blow you away. She slips into her role so effortlessly it is almost painful to watch how well she does it. She is making me jealous."

Benedict said nothing.

Colin noticed.

"Ben?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you are a complete dick?"

From the yellow pages:

(London, The Sun) Filming for the much anticipated adaptation of Rokesby has continued with the two leads now confirmed by a spokesperson for Colin Bridgerton (32) who will play alongside theatre actress Penelope Featherington (27) as Sybilla 'Billie' Bridgerton. Marina Thompson (26), Mr Bridgertons former fiancée, was rumored to play alongside him. Sources cite her pregnancy as a reason for her declining the role.

London Heathrow Airport, London, The United Kingdom
Ten years earlier

"I will miss you, you know?" Eloise said, as she pulled her brother Colin in for a tight hug.

"I know, I will miss you as well," Colin replied, swaying with her from one foot to the other.

"Call me when you've landed."

"That will be quite late."

"Call me anyway."

"Ok," Colin chuckled and untangled himself from his sister's arms. A mixture of dread and giddy excitement washed over him as he slowly let his eyes fall on the busy departures terminal. They had just checked his luggage and Eloise had surprised him with at seat reservation for extra legroom which Colin accepted with much gratitude. The flight would be long and not being able to stretch one's legs in Economy Class was one of the things he had dreaded about making the trip. 'First world problems', he had thought in that very moment but brushed the thought away immediately. His future began now and he was absolutely going to do whatever it took to make it a bright one.

When he stepped into the security area and turned around one last time to face his younger sister, Colin Bridgerton was sure of the brightness that awaited him. Eloise, however, felt her world turn a little more bleak.

~~~~~

A little more than forty-five minutes later, Eloise slowly stepped into a covered viewing stand and pressed one ice-cold drink she had gotten from the fast food joint nearby into the hand of a redhead that was standing as close to the airport perimeter as the viewing stand allowed, her eyes fixed on the taxiways and stands in the distance.

"They were out of Coke light," Eloise announced and Penelope nodded wordlessly.

They were standing next to each other in complete silence for the next ten minutes, the only sounds in their vicinity the slow deliberate gulps of their drinks through the straws, sounds that could not compete with the loud booming sound of the jet plane engines rushing past.

"Which one is his?" Eloise asked, knowing that Penelope would know.

Penelope gestured toward a Boeing 747-400 that was parked at a rather remote airport building before rapidly looking away in an attempt to hide the tears that threatened to burst out.

"I see," Eloise murmured, "they should be getting ready to depart in what ... thirty?"

"If they're on time," Penelope pulled out her phone and after a quick search added, "which they appear to be."

When the Boeing 747-400 soared past them and into the sky, Eloise took a few steps back and snapped a picture.

Romney Hall, Gloucestershire, The United Kingdom
The night of the chemistry read

Penelope paid for the drive from the station of the small Gloucestershire town Philip and Eloise lived in and thanked the driver for retrieving her small suitcase out of the trunk of the vehicle before she slowly ascended the small flight of stairs leading to the Crane's home. She knew that it was too late for her to see George and Amanda after a quick glance at her smartwatch but the light from the greenhouse nestled in the vast gardens told her that Philip was still awake as would Eloise. The latter opened the door before Penelope had a chance to ring the doorbell and Penelope exhaled, not having realized that she must have held tension in her entire body that now finally had the opportunity to escape her body.

"You're here," Eloise breathed, pulling her best friend into a tight hug.

"I am," Penelope smiled into Eloise's shoulder.

"Come on in, let's get you some tee."

"That would be lovely," Penelope replied and together they stepped into the hallway and Eloise shut the door with an audible thud. Penelope soon realized, after settling in their rather large but comfortable sitting room, that Eloise was hovering. She tried to conceal it, but the telltale signs were there. The nervous fidgeting with her hands, the small sideway glances and Penelope was pretty sure she had caught Eloise trying to ask her a thousand questions but stopping mid-attempt, causing her to look like a stranded fish that desperately tried to talk. It was rather adorable, Penelope concluded.

"Stop hovering," Penelope laughed and Eloise's eyes widened in surprise, "I can tell that you are and it's quite adorable, but you really don't have to. I am alright ... as alright as I can be, I guess. But yeah, I am alright. It was just a lot to take in, still is."

"I can imagine."

"No," Penelope said quietly, "you can't. But you're willing to try and I love you for that."

Wordlessly, Eloise took Penelope's hands and they just sat on the sofa in silence, waiting for the moment that was right for Penelope to recount the events of the day.

"I did not know it was him," Penelope started, after drowning the then lukewarm remnants of her peppermint tea, "I mean I knew I was doing the casting for Rokesby but they did not tell me that this was a chemistry read already. Apparently they had cast Colin just last week and they needed him to connect with one of us. There was this young woman with a thick American accent who was hurrying down the corridor where we were waiting. She was on the phone with someone, telling them that they were hopeful it would be one of us three. She sounded quite confident that one of us would ... as she put it ... 'click' with Colin."

Penelope sighed.

"Of course I didn't know that it was going to be Colin, otherwise I would probably have fled the scene immediately."

"No you would not have," Eloise interjected, but it came out weaker than she probably anticipated.

"I walked into that room and I wanted to walk right out again," Penelope said and set the mug onto the table next to the couch, "I really did. I didn't care that they would tell my agent that I was being 'difficult' or that they would never consider to work with me in the future because of my erratic behavior. I genuinely didn't care about any of that, I was ready to suffer the consequences for simply just leaving. And then I didn't."

Penelope stood, walked toward the window and looked out into the garden, the light from the greenhouse illuminating its surroundings against the backdrop of the dark night.

"I didn't. I don't know why, I don't know what kept me going. I think it was the fact that Colin showed no sign that he knew who I was. For a moment, that broke my heart, Eloise. I swear, they should have heard it shattering right then and there. I am not sure they haven't. He broke my heart so long ago and today he managed to break it again."

"Oh, Pen ..." Eloise shifted in her seat to face her friend.

Penelope was quiet for a long moment before she continued.

"Not even my name made him remember me. And it was then and there that I decided that it didn't matter anymore. If he doesn't remember me, that's fine. He's been gone for ten years. I cannot expect him to remember your every childhood friend ..."

"Pen ..."

"No, I cannot expect that and I should not have. I have changed," Penelope stated, her voice much stronger than she felt inside, but she knew she was telling the truth, "and so has he. I am not the chubby shy redhead any longer, and he's not simply Colin Bridgerton. We are both so much more than we used to be."

Eloise just nodded, folding her hands on the small swell of her stomach. That, she concluded, was most definitely true.

"I love your story, Eloise, and I am honored that I get to be Billie. I hope I can be what you imagined she would be like," Penelope continued, her voice breaking ever so slightly.

"Oh, Pen, you are everything and more I would have hoped for," Eloise jumped up from her seat and quickly made her way to the window, pulling her friend into a tight hug, "I am just worried it'll be too much. There is so much history there, so many feelings. Are you sure?"

"I don't know," Penelope said, "if he doesn't remember who I am, it's going to be easier to pretend, you know?"

"Are you pretending?"

"I don't know."

"You kissed Colin today," Eloise said, sounding as flabbergasted as Penelope felt.

"I know."

"And you will have to do it again."

"And worse."

"Oh, oh God," Eloise forced herself out of the hug, grabbed Penelope by her upper arms and looked, at least it felt like it for Penelope, right into the deepest secrets within her soul, "Billie and George are ... they are ... they will ... oh God..."

"I blame you for that one," Penelope joked, "that scene is pretty hot."

"Stop, that's my brother you're talking about."

Penelope simply raised an eyebrow.

"I thought that was the entire issue we were discussing," she quipped.

"You'll have to pretend ... that."

"I know."

"Can you?"

"I'll have to."

"No," Eloise said, forcefully, "you don't. You can call your agent and call the entire thing off. In fact, I think it would be best if you did that. This is going to be a disaster, emotionally. If he realizes, and I damn well hope he does, it'll be weird. If he doesn't, it will be weird, too. You don't have to accept the role you know? Turn it down, if you need to. It's not worth the heartbreak."

"No," Penelope said, resolutely, I won't turn it down. I love Billie and I want to play her. Ten years have passed, Eloise, I've accomplished so much. I won't let it destroy the progress I've made, I promise."

"Don't make a promise you cannot keep," Eloise said, softly, "feelings have a way to sneak up on you when you least expect them. I should know..."

"You do know," Penelope laughed and looked down at Eloises small baby bump, "I am the worst friend, I haven't even asked you how you're holding up with the two rascals and this one."

"Oh, I am doing quite alright," Eloise laughed and motioned for them to return to their seats on the sofa, "George and Amanda are actually thrilled to have a sibling. I was feeling nauseous last week and Amanda hovered around me like a mother hen. It was quite adorable."

Penelope grinned.

She would be alright, she figured. She had Eloise, she had Philip, she had George and Amanda and baby Crane. She had her acting career and she had her writing, her overbearing mother had decided that acting was a viable profession once the first outstanding reviews of Penelope's work had come in, her sisters were both happily married. Life was not as bad, Penelope figured. Colin Bridgerton playing opposite of her in Rokesby was just another hurdle to take.

Penelope looked into the almost violet eyes or her best friend and said: "With you by my side, Eloise, there is nothing I cannot do."

Rokesby , Episode 2: "Debutantes and Dalliances"
Scene 55, Take 2, A-Mark

"I think you feel guilty," Penelope's Billie spat out and Colin's George looked at her in honest surprise.

"Guilty?" He managed to press out, "what are you talking about? Whatever for?"

"That neither of your brothers have ever offered for me," Billie said, matter-of-factly. She had always thought that one of them eventually would, had counted on that, if she was being perfectly honest. But they never did. It was yet another thing she probably should not have said and Billie's hand flew to her mouth as a response to her bluntness. Why oh why was it so easy to tell him about these things? This was George, she should not want to confide in him, she should not be willing to let him into her world, her thoughts, her plans, her expectations ... her desires.

"I think your mother is just trying to make it up to me."

George's expression slid from curiosity to something that rather looked like jealousy, Billie could not help but feel a little pleased.

"I mean, "Billie continued," it is not as if I was waiting for one of you to ask me, but I think she thinks I was and now she's set on introducing me to eligible gentlemen that might make that offer."

George forced down his urge to grab her by the upper arms and shake some sense into her.

"ENOUGH," he practically barked and Billie stepped back just a little in surprise. She was not used to George having any sort of outburst and it made her feel ... it made her feel as if she didn't know him as well as she thought she should. Them being neighbors, that was. Their families being intertwined for years and years, that was.

"I beg your pardon?" Billie said, curtly.

George cleared his throat and took several calming breaths.

"Enough," he said in a much more evenly tempered voice,"it is ridiculous."

"That your mother feels this way?"

"That she thinks introducing you to a pack of useless fops is a sensible idea."

For a moment, Billie just stood there and and enjoyed his statement. Then, as sudden as that feeling subsided, an uneasiness crept in. Was George jealous? And if so, why was she enjoying this so much? This was George, and she didn't like George in that way.

"C U T", the director yelled and Colin and Penelope broke their gaze and Penelope happily accepted her water bottle from the cast PA's outstretched hand.

"Thank you, Adam," she said after taking several big sips, "I know I should not be drinking this much but I am thirsty."

Colin's brows rose.

Penelope turned slightly toward him and gestured to the dress she was wearing.

"I will have to pee," she announced cheerfully, "and its not easy in this. Lots of fabric. There is a corset, too."

Colin tried his hardest not to imagine what was underneath the pale blue dress Penelope was wearing and cleared his throat.

"These pants aren't easy, either," he stated, hoping that his voice would not betray him. Penelope arched an eyebrow pointedly at that and Colin knew that she realized that his mind had gone elsewhere for a brief moment. Thankfully, she didn't know where to exactly it had gone. Into the deep deep gutter.

"Bridgerton", she laughed, "don't tell me you don't know how to take off your own pants."

Colin closed his eyes for a brief moment. Why did she do this? Of course, she had to joke at his expanse.

"Of course I know how to do that," he replied, hoping that she'd let it go. Once glance at her mischievous smile, however, let him know that she was far from being done.

"You have to say that," she quipped, while their hair and makeup assistant checked that status of the braided chignon that was her coiffeur in this particular scene. Penelope liked that her character mostly wore pants, but the more formal scenes they were shooting and the preparation that went into those filled her with a giddy joy watching herself in the mirror at the ungodly hours in the morning in which she was transformed into a more sophisticated version of Billie Bridgerton.

"Naturally," Colin replied, running out of things to counter her with.

"Well, I am glad," Penelope said.

"What for?"

"At least one of us has it easy to pee."

All the willpower in the world could not have prevented Colin from bursting into genuine laughter at that.

Aubrey Hall, Kent
England, The United Kingdom
Eleven weeks prior

"I do not know why I agreed to that," Anthony mumbled as he filled two fingers of whiskey into two glasses and slid one of them across the table toward Colin, "I am just glad they're only using the outside. I don't want to imagine an entire film crew blocking my home for three days."

"Just the outside, we will need the gardens," Colin replied and took a sip from the whiskey.

"I don't understand why it could not have been any other garden," Anthony grumbled.

"Because it's this one that's in the books," Colin quipped with a grin, "books that our dear sister wrote."

"I know, I know," Anthony replied, still marveling at the fact that Eloise had managed to keep her literature career hidden from most of her family for as long as she had.

"They will try their best not to bother the family," Colin added, and Anthony snorted.

"Trying is not as good as succeeding."

"They will," Colin said firmly.

"That's a lot of faith for a production that hasn't even found both of their main protagonists."

"Why so snarky?" Colin laughed.

"No snark, just genuine bewilderment."

"At me?"

"That, too," Anthony laughed, "You know, I've never understood your desire to get away from us ..."

Colin was ready to interject at that but one look at his eldest brother's expression stopped that dead in its tracks.

"... in order to further your career but you did it. You fought for something and you got it, that is most commendable."

Colin did not remember the last time Anthony had said anything remotely positive or encouraging about his profession and he kept his mouth shut in order to not ruin this precious moment ... for the both of them. Colin knew that admitting that fact could not have been easy for Anthony so he just simply waited for anything else he might add.

"You will, of course, be staying here during the shoot," Anthony added, "not go to one of the hotels in town. You continue to have a home here, you know that, don't you?"

"I do," Colin almost choked out.

"Good."

They sat in companionable silence for a couple of minutes, each enjoying how the expensive alcohol Anthony had poured him made their limbs heavier, their brains a little foggy and their feet warm.

"That applies to your co-star, too," Anthony added, breaking the silence.

"That's very generous," Colin thanked him but Anthony brushed it off.

"Nonsense," she'll want a nice bath and a comfortable bed right after work. Especially if you are the one she has to work with," Anthony grinned and Colin remembered why coming home earlier in the day, taking the stone steps up to the door of Aubrey Hall felt like coming home. Because it was. This was home.