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Chapter Text

Penelope jiggled the door knob again. Nothing. 

She looked around the darkened hallway. No servants were present and neither were any of the family, which wasn’t surprising as it was late. The Bridgertons and their house guests were in bed, as all respectable ladies and gentlemen would be at this time of night.

Penelope knocked, first softly and then slightly harder. Still nothing. She couldn’t say she was surprised; Eloise was nearly impossible to wake once she fell asleep. What had possessed her to lock the door? Her best friend had come to bed after Penelope and she must have assumed she was already asleep for the night. But Penelope had been troubled by being in close proximity to Colin and had decided to fetch a book from the library in hopes that it would calm her thoughts. 

She leaned against the doorway considering her options. If she knocked any louder or called for her friend, she would risk waking one of the Bridgertons. She was wearing a sheer nightgown with a dressing gown over it and she wasn’t eager for one of them to assist her. It would be terribly embarrassing. She glanced at the book in her hand, wondering if she should try to find Francesca’s room or read for a while and try to wake Eloise again. The difficulty was that she couldn’t be certain she would knock on the correct door and risked waking someone else entirely.

Colin was the “someone else” she was most concerned about. After the Featherington Ball, she had managed to avoid him while he traveled abroad. His letters had arrived like clockwork, one per week, even though she hadn’t replied. At first she had kept them under the floorboards where her Lady Whistledown money was hidden. But as the weeks went by, the loneliness ate away at her. She truly had no one left without Eloise speaking to her. Her mama and Prudence had never been the best of company, and in the wake of Cousin Jack’s scandal they were even more ill-tempered than usual. 

One night she sat in the candlelight and read each one. How her heart ached as she read the first letter, buoyant and optimistic as only Colin could be. So assured of their friendship and his positive reception. Doubt didn’t start to creep in until the third or fourth letter, when he mused that perhaps he had given her the wrong address previously. By the sixth he sounded alarmed. She considered writing back as she did not wish to cause him pain, a perfunctory note assuring him that she was well but did not think it appropriate to continue their correspondence. But before she made up her mind, the letters stopped. Not a fortnight later she saw his carriage arrive home from across the square.

It was the very next day that Eloise arrived for a call. She was stiff and cold, but she accepted Penelope’s invitation to take tea. It was impossible not to feel hopeful that the end of this wretched distance was near. Once they were seated, Eloise went directly to the point, as she was wont to do.

“Are you well?” she asked Penelope curtly.

Penelope blinked at her, uncertain of what had changed to cause this reproachment. “I am the same as I ever was,” she replied, not wanting to lie and say she was well when she certainly was not. She had determined not to lie to Eloise again if it were in her power, were she ever given another chance.

“Excellent. Good day, then.” Eloise gave a nod and began to take her leave, when Penelope caught her hand and squeezed.

“Why did you come?” Penelope asked. She refused to cry in front of Eloise, but the disappointment was too much to bear. The words came out choked and trembling and there was a brief moment where she could see the old Eloise return.

She seemed to hesitate, torn between remaining with Penelope and continuing toward the door, but ultimately sat back down beside her.

“Colin is worried about you. He said you did not return his letters and he feared for your wellbeing. He has taken the notion that it is his responsibility to look after you,” Eloise finished, raising her eyebrows at Penelope.

He remembered his promise. Her chest suddenly felt tight with emotion, but she fought it away, not wanting Eloise to question her. “What did he give you in return for checking on me?” Penelope asked.

“He has agreed to escort me to as many political rallies as I wish until we decamp to Aubrey Hall.”

Penelope smiled, impressed and amused by the way her friend persisted in her passions. “You may report back to him that I am not in any danger. You have done your duty.” Penelope smiled faintly at her and rose to escort her out.

It was only when they were nearly at the front door that Eloise stopped as though struck by a sudden revelation. “Penelope, you never said that you are well.”

“I promised myself I would never lie to you again.” Penelope paused and gathered her courage. “I am not well. I am heartbroken.”

“Who did this to you?” Eloise asked fiercely. So her old friend, the one who loved her and was protective of her, still existed. It made Penelope glad.

She shrugged wistfully. “I did it to myself. Or perhaps we did it to each other. My heartbreak is due to the loss of our friendship.”

Eloise rarely looked uncertain, but there was now a softness in her eyes that had not been there before. “I do not like it either,” she said crisply. 

Penelope reached for Eloise’s hand, and while her friend did not clasp her hand back, she also did not snatch it away. “I am here if you ever wish to discuss it. We must not repeat the mistakes of the past, when we didn’t trust each other enough with uncomfortable conversations.”

Eloise nodded at her and took her leave, but the next day Penelope heard a knock on her bedroom door. It was Eloise, and she carried a box of their favorite sweets. It was the beginning of an ongoing dialogue, interspersed with their usual levity and confidences. She had worked hard to gain back Eloise’s trust and in turn, her friend had made an effort to listen more and understand her better. They were still rebuilding their friendship, but Eloise had assured Penelope that she wanted to spend the summer together. Penelope couldn't refuse her invitation when they were still on rocky ground, despite her worry about being so near to Colin. 

She couldn’t face him after what he had said, nor could she bring herself to print it although she knew it was the perfect gossip for her column. In the past, she had gone to extreme lengths to avoid her own unmasking, even printing insults to her own family. But she was willing to risk Lady Whistledown’s all-knowing reputation if it meant she could keep from reliving the moment when all her illusions about the man she loved fell away. It was too painful.

The flame of a candle began moving down the hallway and she held her breath, trying to recede into the shadows where she wouldn’t be seen. Colin’s form came into focus, still looking perfectly coiffed in his evening attire and clearly heading toward her. 

He stopped short when he drew close enough to see her state of undress, his eyes widening in surprise. Of course it would be him who found her, sitting on the floor in her night clothes with her hair down around her shoulders. She could feel heat rising in her cheeks as she wondered what he could possibly be thinking.

He bowed slightly, “Good evening.” Despite herself, she smirked at the absurdity of his formality at a time like this. She somehow managed to stand and dip into a respectable curtsy in return. 

“Mr Bridgerton.” 

The now familiar mixture of hurt and confusion flickered in his eyes, or perhaps it was only a trick of the candlelight. “You may call me Colin. No one is about.”

“I only wish to observe propriety, sir. Have a good evening,” she said, inclining her head graciously and gesturing for him to pass.

Colin paused before speaking in that low, honeyed voice that she loved so much. It was infuriating how she longed for him to remain. “Pen– Miss Featherington, are you in need of assistance? It is rather late for you to be in the hallway.”

“I am perfectly capable of looking after myself, Mr Bridgerton. Thank you for your concern.”

He stepped closer, examining her face carefully. “Are you expecting someone?” 

“Who would I be expecting?” she asked, the tension on his face sparking her curiosity.

“Another member of the house party perhaps. Someone who certainly has no right to see you in that nightdress.” His eyes skimmed over her, catching on the soft curves of her bosom that peeked above the lace neckline. Penelope was shocked, but there was something in his voice– a velvety caress to his words that made them sound like a compliment rather than an insult. Almost as if he envied whoever had been invited to see her this way.

“The only gentleman I must concern myself with is you,” she returned mildly. “Are you expecting someone, Mr Bridgerton? Why are you roaming the hallways at this hour?” Penelope was out of patience for him, this conversation, and her own weakness. She wanted to ignore the part of her heart that pleaded for her to soften, to ask for his help, to accept his comfort. 

It didn’t help when Colin ran his fingers through his perfect hair, mussing it in that way that Penelope found irresistible. Used to find irresistible, she reminded herself. In the past. Certainly not now.

“I was having a drink in Anthony’s study. I’ve been having trouble sleeping recently.” His soft blue eyes met hers sheepishly and she offered a sympathetic smile in spite of her discomfort.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she replied. “But as I said, all is well. Good night.”

“Please,” he said softly. “You’re here in your…” he trailed off, his eyes darting again to the dip of her neckline before correcting himself. “Our family is responsible for your protection while you’re our guest and I only wish to be of service.”

She wished for once that Colin would stop being such a gentleman, so this awkward encounter could end. But she knew very well that his sense of honor would not allow him to retire for the evening without an explanation.

“Very well. Eloise was aware that I had retired for the night but not that I went to the library to fetch a book. I have also had difficulty sleeping of late.” She sighed. “Your sister locked the bedchamber and I have been unable to rouse her.” 

Colin’s hand reached toward her in sympathy for a moment before he dropped it helplessly at his side. She recalled how he used to touch her often, just a slight caress of the arm or the clasp of her hand. Those moments were precious, stored in her memory to inspire her daydreams and soothe her hurts. How she missed that easy companionship they used to share. Her chest throbbed at the thought that perhaps neither of them could rest for similar reasons– that sharp emotion she knew was heartbreak. Just as quickly, she brushed the idea aside, knowing that a man who did not wish to court her could certainly never be in love with her.

“Let me assist you. Eloise sleeps like the dead.” He walked to the door and began to knock and softly call his sister’s name. They waited a moment in the silence but there was no response.

Colin began to knock again, this time louder, when Penelope stilled his arm with her hand.

“We can’t wake anyone else. If we were found here together...” Penelope felt her stomach clench with anxiety even as she spoke. She couldn’t think of a worse fate than to be tied to someone who so clearly didn’t want her. It would be a painful echo of her family situation, made worse by being so madly in love with the person who rejected her. “It would be best if you return to your room. I assure you that I will be perfectly safe in the hallway. This is the family wing after all. I can read my book.”

Colin was already shaking his head in concern. “You need your rest and the house is full of guests. Come with me.” He extended his arm, and while Penelope wanted to refuse it, her hand felt drawn to touch him, to feel that sense of security that used to wash over her when he was near. He led her further down the hall, the flame of the candle casting shadows on the walls, the moon streaming in the window at the end of the hallway providing only a pale glow.

He chose a door near the window, pushing it open and leading her inside. A servant had lit the lamps and as Colin closed and locked the door behind them, Penelope could see that this bedchamber belonged to a member of the family. There was an air of elegant comfort to it and numerous personal touches set it apart from the more formally decorated guest bedrooms. Her breath caught suddenly in her chest as she realized why it smelled familiar. The mixture of leather and evergreen– it was his scent. 

“Did you bring me to your bedchamber?” she asked, aghast.

“I mean nothing untoward by it.” Obviously , thought Penelope. “I can sleep in my chair while you take the bed. We’ll arise early so you can return to your room before the others are about. The chamber maids will unlock Eloise’s door by then.” He shrugged slightly, betraying his own unease as Penelope stared at him.

“I know you do not see me as a woman, but I hope desperately that you understand I am a lady. I am not in the habit of spending the night in the bedchamber of a strange gentleman.” Her entire body stiffened at the insult and she turned to leave with as much dignity as she could muster in such a sheer nightgown. 

“Penelope!” He grabbed her hand and pulled her closer. “Of course I know you are a proper lady. But I also swore to look after you. Stay with me. You will be safe, and I vow never to tell anyone you were here.” 

He was so near now that she could see his firm chest rising and falling. When she looked up, those expressive eyes that she loved were purposeful and firm. 

“And how could you call me a strange gentleman? We’ve known one another all our lives.” 

Penelope turned away, the hurt in his voice tempering her resentment. She shook her head slightly.  “It may be that we have been acquainted, but we do not know one another.” She could hear his breath catch as her words hit their mark, but she was determined to continue. “Kindly allow me to return to the hallway.”

“I suppose you are correct, since I have never known you to be this stubborn,” Colin replied tightly. “Please, Penelope. Stay with me. No harm will befall you.”

Any other words would not have swayed her, but ‘stay with me’-- how could she do anything but obey, when it had always been her dearest wish to hear those words from his lips? And that small ‘please’? She had never heard Colin so pleading and desperate. It evoked such a desire to comfort him, to please him, that against her better judgment she found herself saying, “Very well.”

His shoulders relaxed and he began to move with purpose about the room, pulling a coverlet from the end of the bed to drape over his chair and arranging a spare pillow there. He paused, peering over at her. “Would you mind if I remove my waistcoat? I understand if it would cause you discomfort.”

Penelope’s mouth went dry. “You may wear what you’re accustomed to– I don't wish to disrupt your sleep either.” 

Colin smirked and for a moment, Penelope could be convinced that they were exchanging witty remarks in a ballroom, as friendly as they ever were. “I fear that my typical sleeping attire, or lack thereof, would be quite shocking indeed. But if you don’t mind…” 

His expression became smug when her mouth dropped open at the innuendo, and she demurely looked away. Colin disappeared into his dressing room and returned in just a shirt and breeches, his neck bare and the firm muscles of his chest barely visible. To her surprise, he walked to the bed and turned down the covers before gesturing for her to crawl in. She had not been tucked into bed since she was a child, but Colin stood there, clearly waiting for her. Being exposed to his gaze while sharing such a tender act caused her to flush, especially when Colin pulled the covers over her and calmly arranged them around her form. 

After putting out all the lamps and getting settled, he in his armchair and she in his bed, the darkness was heavy with silence. Penelope rolled onto her side to face him, counting on the poor lighting in the room to hide her focus. She pressed her cheek against the pillow, relishing the scent that was all Colin. Why must her heart betray her so? Even now she felt lulled into contentment by his presence.

As the minutes ticked by, her eyelids grew heavy but sleep wouldn’t come. She could hear him shifting in his chair, trying to find a comfortable position. And her mind was racing as she ruminated over every moment of both their friendship and their estrangement. She heard a heavy sigh escape him as he shifted again.

“Are you having difficulty sleeping? I can take the chair and you may sleep in your bed,” she offered timidly.

“I won’t hear a word of that,” Colin said firmly. “You are a lady and my guest.”

“I suppose you have much experience entertaining ladies,” Penelope commented without thinking. 

Colin grew rigid in his seat. “I see. Thank you for your honest opinion of me.” While she couldn’t see his face in detail, the tone of his voice was tight, as though he were exercising a great deal of self-restraint by not saying more.

“Forgive me, that was ill-considered. Of course, you are nothing but a perfect gentleman.” Penelope’s apology was sincere, but even she could hear the slight sarcasm that crept into her voice as she continued. 

“Ah, so you deign to speak to me now, but only with the aim of insulting my character. Perhaps I will finally learn what I did to lose your friendship so completely.” 

“What do you mean? We see one another often.” What she declined to say was that since his early arrival home, they were only ever in company, and she did her best to plead other obligations as soon as she knew he would be in attendance at tea. If he requested a dance at a ball, she claimed fatigue. And even at Aubrey Hall, she stayed close to Eloise’s side, refusing to allow him a private word with her.

He sighed, seeming more sad than angry. “You’ve changed. The way you look at me and talk to me– you know it isn’t the same.”

“Change can be for the best.”

“That’s all you have to say to me after years of loyal friendship? Thank you for explaining so fully!” 

“Loyalty? You consider yourself such a faithful friend then?” Penelope did not mean to reveal any of her inner thoughts to him, but the mention of loyalty was entirely too much and she couldn’t keep the edge out of her voice. 

Suddenly he was out of the chair and striding toward the bed, kneeling beside it so that he could see her face. “I take it you do not? Now we’re finally speaking honestly, so please continue. When have I betrayed you? When I wrote to you for months, more letters than I sent to anyone else? When I stopped Lord Featherington from ruining your family permanently? When I returned home specifically to ensure your well-being? When, Penelope?”

She tried to ignore the fluttering in her stomach at his nearness. “Do you really care to know?” she asked.

“Yes,” he replied emphatically as he ran his fingers through his hair. “This…icy politeness of yours is driving me mad. We used to talk to one another. Truthfully.”

“Very well, then.” She swallowed, summoning the courage to repeat his words back to him. It was humiliating. It was heartbreaking. But it was also entirely necessary, she could see that now. Colin was much more persistent in pursuing answers than she had expected and they were going to be in company often if her friendship with Eloise recovered as she hoped it would. “ Are you mad? I would never dream of courting Penelope Featherington. Not in your wildest fantasies,” she quoted, not able to meet his eyes.

Colin stared at her, his blue eyes flashing with something akin to panic. “Penelope, I–”

“I overheard you. You must understand that I knew we would never court; that is not what troubles me so.  But what have I done to earn such disrespect? You laughed at me. You encouraged others to do the same.”

“Penelope, I do respect you. You’re witty and bright and kind…”

“Stop. Empty flattery is not what I’m seeking. I simply wish for you to understand why I no longer desire your friendship. Now we can both keep our distance and move forward.”

“Distance isn’t what I want!” He took a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts. “I apologize, Penelope. My behavior was abhorrent and I have no excuse. Please forgive me, for I miss your friendship and I meant what I said– you are special to me.”

“I’m having difficulty reconciling your words during our dance with what came later. What about your promise to look after me?” she continued quietly. “Is that what led you to so casually destroy my prospects in such a public way?”

“Destroy your prospects?”

“Those other gentlemen and any who hear of it…none of them will consider me now. Not after you made it clear how undesirable I am, how unworthy I am of courtship.”

Colin swallowed, the implications of such a declaration becoming suddenly clear. “I’m so sorry, Penelope. Did you want them to consider you?”

She lifted one shoulder in a helpless shrug. “I want what most other women want. Did you not realize?”

Colin laid his forehead against the bed, uncertain of whether to tell her– he had never considered her getting married and the idea of her with a suitor was one he felt uncomfortable entertaining. Blast it, that was part of why he had spoken so impulsively in the first place. Penelope was very dear to him and the idea of others making light of that closeness made him incredibly uncomfortable. But he knew that if he told her all of this, she would interpret it in the worst way possible. After gathering his thoughts, he raised his head to meet her eyes.

“Penelope, there is nothing I can say to make it right straight away. But I will do my best to look after you now, just as I promised I would. I want to be your friend, even if you aren’t ready to be mine. I can do better– be better. What I said was cruel and foolish.”

Penelope sighed, softening in spite of herself at the obvious sincerity of his words. “I can’t stay angry with you as much as I might want to. What you said was cruel but I know you aren’t a cruel man at heart.”

“Do you forgive me then?” he asked hopefully, with a hint of his winsome smile.

She chewed her lip thoughtfully.“I want to. But Colin, the outcome is the same. I had little enough hope before, and now I know that I’ll never find a gentleman to marry.”

He slid his hand toward hers and stroked the back sympathetically, wanting some form of connection between them. He felt heartened when she didn’t pull away. Her skin was so soft without her gloves keeping them separated. “What do you fear missing? You can tell me.” 

“I hoped to marry someone kind, someone who could be a friend to me. Children of course, for I love them dearly.” Colin nodded, knowing that Penelope had a soft spot for babies, having seen her with Augie. “And…the physical bond between husband and wife. I’ll never know what that’s like.”

Colin coughed, trying not to show his surprise. He never knew Penelope was aware of such activities, let alone that she wished to participate in them. 

Penelope wasn’t fooled and he could hear her exasperated huff, which only highlighted her ample bosom, much to his dismay. “You said I could tell you and now I see you are judging me. Why should young ladies not desire passion?”

Colin realized again how brave Penelope was. She had shared openly that he had hurt her. And now she was allowing him to see her inner thoughts, which was a privilege he had vowed never to take for granted again during the long weeks of her silence. 

“You’re right, of course. I was only surprised since I don’t hear it spoken of often. But it's perfectly natural. I feel curious about it as well.” His ears began to tinge red as he realized what he had admitted.

“You– you mean to say…” Now Penelope was the one struggling for words and Colin felt a strange sort of kinship with her. Perhaps neither of them were exactly what they appeared to others.

“I know you think I'm something of a flirt, but I’ve never kissed a lady, let alone done…more.” He found himself leaning toward her, stroking her hand with more determination.

“Why not? Gentlemen are allowed to do whatever they wish.” Penelope’s hurt was forgotten in light of this intriguing information.

Colin laughed at how matter-of-fact she sounded. “Dear Pen. I may be curious but I would never ruin a young lady. And I want it to mean something , even if perhaps that sounds foolish.”

“No, it’s the very furthest idea from foolish I should think. Lovemaking should be about more than just a touch, should it not?” She smiled at him in understanding, and for a moment all was right in his world. It was he and Pen, as they should be, speaking about what mattered to them. 

“If I kissed you, it would mean something,” he said quietly.

Her lips parted slightly and her eyes were a mystery to him. That rapid flickering of emotion, her intelligence, her insight– it was all there trying to make sense of what he had said, when even he didn’t know what was possessing him to pursue this course. 

“What would it mean?” she asked rather breathlessly.

“It would mean, I’m sorry .” He took the risk of brushing her hair away from her forehead, finding it as silky as he had always imagined, and just as intimate. “It would mean I care for you .” His heart beat faster as he leaned in, what had been a spark of an impulse turning into something much more intentional. “It would mean, please Pen, don’t stop being the one person I am myself with .” 

He decided to take the risk, and cupped her cheek, brushing against it with his thumb as if testing her tolerance for gentleness. Her breath caught in her chest but she didn’t stop him. When she darted her tongue out to wet her bottom lip, he leaned in, tentatively capturing those pillowy lips between his own.  

It was so gentle and stunning that Colin couldn’t understand why he hadn’t thought to do this sooner. What use were words when that was what had caused their rift in the first place? He needed to show her– she was special to him, she was his only . The only one he wanted to pull those breathy gasps from, the only one he could exchange all of this sweetness with in a single embrace. 

Pen. It was strange– they had never kissed before, but he felt a sensation of homecoming. He had traveled for months last year, but he had always had her letters to keep him company. But the last months had been desolate without her. He hated the invisible wall she had constructed between them but now he was in her arms and she couldn’t ignore him. And the little sounds she made as he kissed her defied her avowed indifference to him. It was like that first sip of cool water after being parched in the heat of the day. He had been without her for weeks, and now she was so close. The part of him that felt unsettled every time he thought of her could finally rest. “Pen,” he whispered, leaning away when she had completely stolen his breath with her soft red lips. 

“Yes?” she asked, looking at him with a dazed expression on her face.

“You are beautiful.”

“So are you,” she said. 

He leaned in again, kissing her more deeply. She made it feel natural, effortless, to explore her lips with his own. Her hands moved to his shoulders and she pulled him closer. When she opened her mouth he responded, surprised when he felt her dainty tongue slip warmly in to touch his own. He knew of this kissing from his peers, of course, but how did Penelope know what to do?

“Have you been kissed before?” he asked, knowing he shouldn’t but unable to stop himself. He hated the thought of Penelope in the arms of another, but he couldn’t understand why his chest tightened when he considered it.

“No. Am I doing it incorrectly?”

He stroked her arms softly. “No. It feels so good that I was sure you had done it before.”

Her eyes sparkled at him. “We shall both need a lot of practice, I should think.” Colin laughed as she looped an arm around to stroke the back of his neck. He couldn’t stop mapping her features, running his thumb along her jaw, tracing his index finger over the cupid’s bow of her mouth. It would be difficult to separate himself from her but he must if he were to remain a gentleman. “I agree, but I’m afraid we must sleep eventually.” 

He placed a tender kiss on her round cheek, then her neck, then her lips again. “It’s very difficult to stop, but now I promise to be good.” They smiled at one another and he began to pull away. “Sweet dreams, Penelope.” 

“Good night, Mr Bridgerton.”

His chest throbbed at hearing that hated name after the intimacy they had just shared. But he would have to be patient, he could see that now. He would earn Penelope’s trust and affection again– he was determined. She would call him her friend and he would hear his name on her lips. Now wasn’t the time to press, so he returned to his armchair, pulled the cover over himself, and tried to sleep.

Chapter Text

There was a rustling sound, pulling Colin from a most pleasant dream. The images were indistinct, but there were stirrings of passion, united with that familiar warm feeling of home. Then, a soft gasp drew him closer to wakefulness, and as he opened his eyes, a form sat up in bed and glanced around the darkened room. 

“Are you well, Pen?” he asked, voice raspy with sleep, still reconciling the idea that she was in his bed as the memory of their kiss rushed to the forefront of his consciousness.

“I’m a bit chilled,” she admitted shyly. “Do you have another cover?”

He rose and walked to the bed, laying the blanket he had been using on top of her and taking the liberty of softly tucking it around her body. 

“You’ll freeze,” she protested, even as she snuggled deeper under the covers. 

“Don’t fret, Pen. I want you to be comfortable.”

Penelope huffed. “Always the gentleman.” She shifted to the other side of the bed, shivering at the cool linens, and patted the warm spot she had just left. “Come here.”

Colin’s throat tightened. “You want me...”

“Yes,” Penelope sighed. “Don’t make a fuss about it.”

He slid into bed beside her, remembering a moment too late that he had removed his shirt after she went to sleep. He couldn’t get comfortable sleeping with it on, and now he would likely scandalize poor Pen more than he already had.

She was still shivering with cold and he could feel the tremors next to him in bed.

“Would you like me to warm you up?” he asked hesitantly. Despite being the one to suggest it, he was now reconsidering his offer. He had invited Penelope into his bedchamber, kissed her, and now he was in bed with her. He knew it was completely improper, no matter what unusual circumstances had led them here. But he couldn’t seem to stop pushing the bounds of propriety, drawing closer and closer in a bid for her approval, for her affection. Maybe she could forgive him if she saw how much he wanted to be near her.

“Just for a moment might be helpful,” she whispered, and he pressed closer to her before she could change her mind. She had turned away from him when he climbed into bed, so he wrapped his arm around her stomach and pulled her toward him. She fit perfectly, her smaller body tucked against him, so soft and sweet. She stopped trembling as they lay together, and he relaxed as she did, melting into one another seamlessly.

He stroked his fingers over the bounce of her belly, the whispery fabric of her nightgown silky against his skin. When he held her in his arms to dance, he had never appreciated just how delicate she was, but he knew now that he had always wanted to protect her. She had trusted him completely once. How had he destroyed everything so quickly? To go from being her hero to her enemy in the space of minutes was a fall he wasn’t able to tolerate. 

Penelope let out a sleepy hum of approval at his touch, seemingly without realizing, and it stirred him to hear her pleasure. He traced circles over her stomach, and then began to rub his hand up and down her arm soothingly. He marveled at how smooth her skin felt, bare in the short sleeves of her nightdress. He was pleased when he felt her nestle closer to him, and he wondered if she was feeling as drawn to him as he was to her. He couldn’t understand it. Penelope had always been his friend. But lying here with her, in the dark of night, completely alone—it felt natural. It was what they needed to mend the bond between them; he was certain of it. As she moved even closer, her nightdress slipped off her shoulder and his breath caught at that satiny stretch of skin revealed so innocently in the moonlight. 

Leaning forward, he pressed a gentle kiss on that precious shoulder, and she exhaled a quiet moan. Once he began, he couldn’t stop, dropping kisses across her bare back, especially as she leaned into his touch. Her backside was wiggling against him and the sounds of her enjoyment were making him hard. He worried she would feel the evidence of his desire, so he moved his hand to her round hip to guide her away, but found himself caressing her instead. He slid his hand down, groaning when he reached the hem of her nightdress, which had hitched up to mid-thigh. Teasing his fingers under the hem, she whimpered and squeezed her legs together. 

“Penelope, do you like that?” 

She turned to face him, her eyes searching his as she nodded. He exhaled, relieved that he hadn’t offended her. “Do you want more?” he pressed. Another nod. He leaned in to kiss her, this time knowing what awaited him but feeling just as wonderstruck as he was earlier that night. She seemed more confident, lacing her arms around his neck and lightly stroking the nape with her fingers. He had never felt anything so thrilling as realizing that she wanted him. His lips meandered away from her mouth and he began kissing her neck, urged on by the way she gripped his shoulders tightly as he did. 

“It feels so good,” she whispered.

“It does,” he groaned, lavishing her collarbone with kisses and wondering if she would allow him to move further toward those perfect breasts. “I understand now.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Why it doesn’t feel right when we aren’t speaking. I need you, Penelope.” He began kissing the tops of her breasts where they peeked above her neckline, and she arched toward him unconsciously. 

“More, please,” she whimpered.

“What do you want?” he asked, his hands roaming to her luscious bottom and pressing her closer so he could bury his face between her breasts. How long had he imagined doing so? It was bliss, and it was also startling to realize how many of his fantasies about Penelope he had been brushing aside.

“Will you show me? Everything?” she asked breathlessly. 

He smiled up at her a little shyly. “I’ve never bedded a woman. Are you sure you want me?”

“Do you want me?” she asked, biting her lip nervously. Her blue eyes held so much vulnerability, but he was stunned by the strength that allowed her to ask the question. 

He pressed his forehead against hers. “Penelope, no one makes me feel the way that you do. I want to be as close to you as I can be.”

“Then be close to me,” she said softly. 

Colin had thought himself above temptation. After all, he had defied expectations for so long, resisted other women, ignored the taunts of his brothers. It seemed that the only siren song he couldn’t overcome was the allure of Penelope Featherington wanting him.

He pulled her tightly against him, capturing her lips as his hands roamed over her body. She was so pliant in his arms, responding to him effortlessly. She had always been Colin’s favorite dance partner because of how she moved with him, their bodies perfectly in tune with one another. 

He began edging her nightgown up over her hips, and she watched his face intently as her body was revealed. When he saw her breasts, he was certain his heart would stop. “Oh Penelope,” he said, awestruck, “There are no words for how lovely you are.”

He cupped her reverently, the moment feeling surreal. This was Penelope Featherington, and he was touching her . It was so strange that before tonight he had never consciously thought of how desirable she was, but now that he admitted it to himself, he couldn’t imagine ever seeing her the same way again. 

She was here, and she deserved to be satisfied. He tried to bring to mind all the conversations he had overheard over glasses of port or between rounds of fencing. Not the tales of boastful conquest, but hints as to what might make her whimper in satisfaction and bring Penelope to her peak. He wanted her to love every moment of it. 

He brushed his thumbs over the rosy tips of her breasts, watching her breath catch and her eyes flutter shut. He leaned down and licked one lightly, teasingly, and heard her cry out in response. Her approval washed over him, and he latched onto her nipple, sucking it gently into his mouth. She stroked her hands through his hair, loosely holding him to her, and that affectionate gesture made him wonder if he had been forgiven. He pushed the thought away in favor of lavishing more attention upon her until she was writhing in the bed beneath him, hair tangling against the pillows as she tossed her head to the side in pleasure. 

“Tell me what makes you feel good. I want it to be perfect,” he whispered in her ear.

“Don’t stop touching me and it will be perfect,” she said breathlessly. 

She was rocking her hips more urgently now, and he could sense her desire for more. Even so, he moved his hand lower slowly so as not to overwhelm her. She was watching him, and Colin felt that invisible thread tying them together as he swirled his fingers in barely there caresses over her hips. 

When her blue eyes focused on him, whether it was with gentle adoration or bright wit, he knew they were connecting without words. He could sense it now—she saw his vulnerability and also his desire for her praise. He wondered if she was aware that he could see her too; that she was eager but also raw. Her confidence in him and in their friendship was tenuous. One false word or touch and she would retreat. But maybe the opposite was also true—maybe he could show her the feeling that had been building in him since last season, the one that he hadn’t been able to put words to. Somehow, he trusted that their invisible thread would allow her to understand.

His hand cupped her soft mound and he whispered her name, the intimacy of it bringing an ache to his chest. She bit her lip as he slid a finger down, trying to find that sensitive nub he had heard so much about. It was easy to tell when he succeeded, as she gasped and then let out the most sinful moan when he gently circled it. 

“Is that good, Pen?” he asked, his stomach fluttering with nerves and excitement. It was fascinating to watch the play of sensations wash over her expression, to feel how warm and soft she was underneath his hand. 

He slid his fingers down, and when he encountered her wet center for the first time, he thought he would lose control. His groan caught Penelope’s attention. To his surprise, her delicate hands immediately began working at the fastening of his breeches. He felt wanted, chosen , as she pushed them aside and took him in hand, stroking lightly at first.  

Colin had never felt anything so pleasurable. Of course, he was no stranger to relieving his urges, but this—this was Penelope. His dearest friend, handling him with confident tenderness, as if she wouldn’t stop until she had pushed him to the edge. As if he were hers and she wanted to claim him. The thought came unbidden, but there was a ring of truth to it. Who besides Penelope should touch Colin this way? He had never desired Marina to do so, never even wished for her kiss. But Penelope, Penelope, Penelope . Her name beat like a drumbeat in his mind; all he wanted was more, closer, deeper. He wanted all of her that she was willing to give him. And he knew that he wanted to throw himself at her feet, to give her all of him too.

“Penelope, how did you know…”

She blushed but continued to touch him. He was grateful as he didn’t know how he would bear it if she stopped. “A friend explained. Am I doing it correctly?”

He nodded, closing his eyes for a moment to memorize how it felt to be in her hands. Instinctively, he reached for her breasts, cupping them, brushing his thumbs over the peaks and watching how they hardened beneath his fingers. It felt so familiar, despite being entirely new, and then he realized—he had thought of her breasts before when he was alone. There was no time to consider it further, because he realized he was quickly reaching a precipice and that would not do at all. 

“You have clever hands. But allow me—ladies first. " He gallantly kissed the back of her hand as he removed it and then returned his attention to pleasing her. She was so warm and inviting, and he felt so much tenderness toward the woman in his arms. After shifting her into several poses, he positioned her sitting up between his legs so that he had access to all the delicious parts of her at once. She had given herself over to him, closing her eyes and laying back against his chest. 

As he circled the small, sensitive bud, she began keening and shaking. “Is that what you want, Penelope? Does it feel good?”

She nodded frantically, and he listened closely, hoping for a breathy sigh or moan that would guide him in the right direction. She was watching him touch her in the dim light and when she met his eyes again, he was relieved that none of the distance was there that he had grown to dread. “I love seeing you this way,” he confessed, and she lit up with that affectionate gaze he loved so dearly. Her desire seemed to flame higher as well, if the slick feel of her under his fingers was any indication. He decided to say more. “I’ve missed touching you. You’re always so warm and soft.” 

“I think —" Penelope’s voice broke off, and Colin would never learn what she was thinking, as her moans grew louder until she was crying out. A look of pure pleasure passed over her face as she pulsed and clenched against the fingers that were buried inside her. He recalled that she may be sensitive after such a peak, so he moved his palm to cup her between the legs gently, unwilling to end their intimacy completely. 

“Thank you,” he whispered as he repositioned them, cradling her against his body. 

Penelope let out a little laugh and turned to grin at him. “What are you thanking me for? I rather think I should be the one grateful to you .”

“I’ve never seen anything so lovely as that,” he smiled back. “And you allowed me the honor of seeing you that way.”

 “Can I see you in such a state as well?” she asked, her eyes dipping down to his erection and then meeting his gaze shyly.

“If that is your wish.” He laced his fingers through hers, but she pulled away so she could touch him again. She seemed utterly enthralled, gazing at him and noting his reaction to her movements.

“Did you know that you’re lovely as well?” she asked, using both hands so she could hold him completely. He felt that familiar swell of affection toward her as they smiled at one another. Penelope had always noticed and appreciated him, even when no one else did. 

Kissing her seemed to be the only adequate response. “I wasn’t aware, no. Perhaps it's only you who thinks so, but I’m very glad you do.”

“You feel like silk in my hands,” she said, and rubbed her thumb over the sensitive tip in a way that made his hips jerk toward her involuntarily. “Very sensitive too,” she murmured approvingly.

His head dropped back against his pillow as he groaned. “Oh Pen, you're very good at that.”

Her eyes lit up at the compliment. “Would you—would you like to indulge your curiosity further?” she asked with a hesitant smile.

He furrowed his brows at the vagueness of her question. It was very difficult to think or even form phrases with what she was doing to him. He suspected—but surely she couldn’t mean...

“Will you make love to me?”

Colin’s heart was soaring, but he must keep his head about him. This was Penelope, and he had already committed one grave error that had almost ended their friendship. If he compromised her further, he must be prepared to accept the consequences.

“I want to,” he finally said, reaching out his hand to stroke her cheek. “But are you certain? There are risks involved. And I believe it may be painful for you the first time.” 

She bit her lip but met his stare. “I’m aware of the risks.”

Penelope, sweet, innocent Penelope, knew of the risks of marital relations? “How?”

“I told you, there’s a friend who explained it to me.” She smiled coyly. “The risks don’t outweigh the promise of pleasure I’ve heard whispered about.” 

He shivered at the seductive quality of her voice and the way she grazed her fingers lightly over her chest as she spoke. “You aren’t afraid then?” 

What Colin didn’t wish to say was that while he wanted her desperately, he felt nervous. Losing her approval had been more unsettling than he could have imagined, and tonight needed to be everything she was hoping for. 

“I know you won’t hurt me. And we have always gotten on well, have we not?” 

“We have,” Colin replied softly. “And we care for one another above all others.” 

He watched her reaction to his second statement, hoping she would confirm what he had begun to understand only recently. Somehow, despite her efforts to appear unaffected, he knew that she still had tender feelings for him. She only needed to feel secure in his affections again, and all would be well between them.

“I thought so once,” she murmured. “But I am speaking now of something else. May we explore our curiosities together? Please?”

The pleading look on her face decided him, and his resistance seemed foolish. He wanted this, and evidently so did she. How could he deny her in the face of such desire? He nodded and she lay on her back so he could arrange himself on top of her. 

Colin hesitated, uncertain of exactly how to proceed. She seemed to notice and gently stroked the back of his neck, drawing him closer to kiss him. 

“I’ll do my best to bring you pleasure, but I’m not entirely–” 

“We both have sense; I’m certain we can sort out the process.” She smiled softly at him, and his fear of not performing adequately fell away. Colin determined that all he really had to do was show her his feelings, in how he touched her, how he looked at her. That would be enough. He knew because it was all he really wanted from Penelope—her presence.

“You’re so good, Pen. Could you spread your legs a bit wider?” he asked, and she complied willingly. “You’re so beautiful. I’ll go slowly.”

They watched each other as he fumbled a bit trying to join with her properly. With anyone else, he could imagine feeling embarrassed, but there was no awkwardness between them, only soft smiles and a few nervous giggles from Penelope that made his heart flutter with affection. She reached her hand down as well to guide him, and then he was sinking into her.

He saw a flash of discomfort on her face, but then it was over, and she was urging him on by grasping his hips in her hands. She smiled up at him contentedly, and he allowed himself to move, taking care not to get so lost in his bliss that he forgot her comfort. It was overwhelming to feel her so snug and hot around him, but it was the tender look on her face as she gazed at him that truly undid him. 

“You like to watch me?” he asked breathlessly.

She began lifting her hips in rhythm with his. “You look so handsome atop me.”

“Penelope,” he groaned and began moving more rapidly. She was rocking against him so eagerly; there was no doubt in his mind that she wanted him. He was desperate to see that euphoric expression break over his face again, so he reached between her legs to stroke her gently in time with his thrusts. “You’re so lovely; how can I deserve you?”

“Keep speaking to me. Please? I love your voice.” 

Colin’s chest ached with tenderness. Penelope always chose his voice. She wanted to listen to him. And he had taken it for granted. Never again. 

He bent his lips closer to her ear and began to speak coaxingly. “You feel so sweet underneath me. You’re mine, Pen. So precious to me.”

Her breathing quickened and he leaned down to take her nipple in his mouth. Breathy moans began escaping her as if she couldn’t stop them, and it encouraged him to say more. “I only want you, Penelope. Only you. We fit together so perfectly.”

Penelope cried out his name, and he had never heard anything sweeter. Finally, finally , he was her Colin again, just as she was his Pen. A fresh rush of arousal had him taking her harder than before.

“Are you close to—?” Penelope asked breathlessly.

He nodded and she looked troubled for the first time. “I can’t make a baby with you,” she said, and gently nudged his shoulders. Colin understood and pulled out of her, stroking himself until he spilled on the sheets. He collapsed against the pillows, his mind wonderfully blank in the aftershocks of pleasure.

To his delight, she leaned her head into his shoulder and nuzzled against him, stroking his chest sweetly as he recovered. When he was breathing normally again, he turned to kiss her forehead. “Are you well?” he asked, not brave enough to ask if he had performed adequately. He hoped he hadn’t misread her reactions—she had been so passionate, so perfect. He never would have imagined the overwhelming rapture of it all.

“I’m happy,” she said simply. “I liked it; did you?”

“I liked it too.”

They smiled at one another, and Penelope began giggling a bit as she flushed. Now that the act was complete, Colin supposed that both of them were in disbelief that it had actually happened.

“Would you hold me for a while?” she asked sweetly. “The maids will be here soon, so perhaps we shouldn’t fall asleep.”

“I want nothing more than to hold you,” he replied, and pulled her closer to him, wishing that the night never had to end.

Chapter Text

A sharp knock at the door jolted Penelope from sleep, and she looked around with bleary eyes. Where was she? Light streamed in the window, and her arm was settled over a solid form. It was Colin, his chestnut hair mussed and his broad back pressing firmly against her bare chest. Memories of their passionate night together flooded back in a rush. 

Before she could speak, a key turned in the lock and the door opened. Panicking, she pulled the linens as high on her body as they would go, trying desperately to cover her bare skin, and ducked behind Colin’s larger form. Murmuring alerted her to the presence of Viscount Bridgerton and Violet. Penelope thought she might be sick. How could she have been so foolish? 

“Colin, wake up. Penelope is missing.” Anthony spoke urgently, but his voice was colored more by concern than his usual impatience. 

She could tell Colin was fully awake now, as his body stiffened at the sound of her name. He could surely feel her behind him in bed and knew the danger they faced. She was fighting panic at the thought of being discovered, and it seemed more likely by the moment.

Penelope didn’t have to see Violet to imagine her worried expression as she spoke to Colin. “We need to find her before the servants or other guests are aware. Eloise is taking Benedict to all of Penelope’s favorite haunts, but she wasn’t seen at breakfast, and it's almost tea time. We knew that you would be more concerned than anyone.”

That gave Penelope pause. Why was Violet so certain that Colin would care if she was missing? And Anthony was approaching Colin with an uncharacteristic gentleness, almost as if anxious for his reaction.

Colin seemed to have gathered himself enough to respond. “Allow me a moment to dress. I know of a spot where she enjoys reading, and I’m sure I’ll find her there with a book.”

“You’re taking this rather well, darling,” Violet replied. “We must make haste before her absence is noticed and her reputation impacted. But I’m sure you are correct and all is well with her.”

“Indeed,” Colin said, and Penelope admired the steadiness of his voice given the precarious situation. “Now, if you’ll both excuse me for a moment…” 

She could hear Colin’s family departing and began to relax against the mattress for the first time since she had awoken. Thank goodness for Colin’s quick thinking and calm demeanor. She wouldn’t even allow herself to imagine what could have happened otherwise. Then there was a feminine gasp and a pit formed in her stomach again. 

“Colin, what is this?” Violet’s voice was tightly controlled, but Penelope knew that this was bad, very bad.

Anthony’s growl and Violet’s sharp exclamation of “Colin Bridgerton!” were almost simultaneous. Penelope wished more than anything that she could see what was happening, but she could tell by the tension in Colin’s shoulders that it wasn’t good. It was childish, but she screwed her eyes shut, unable to withstand the pressure of remaining so silent and still. Perhaps if she couldn’t see the Bridgertons, they wouldn’t be able to see her. 

“Nothing to concern yourself with, Mother. I’ll see you in just a moment, as I said.”

“This is a young lady’s nightgown of the highest quality,” Violet said in the sternest, most humorless voice Penelope had ever heard from her. “Now, do you care to share which of the guests under our protection is in your bed, in our ancestral home, or should I look under the covers myself?” 

“Mother…” Colin began, but Anthony interrupted him.

“You have brought shame on the family, Colin. Of all the irresponsible, selfish–”

Penelope did not consider herself brave, but to hear Colin attacked in such a way when she was an active participant as well—it was unjust. And despite his charming demeanor, Penelope knew from close observation that Anthony’s approval meant a great deal to Colin, no matter how much he might protest. It was enough to summon her courage, as despite everything, she loved him and would not allow him to face this alone.

Penelope wrapped the sheet tightly across her breasts and sat up in bed so that she was visible. “Pardon me, but Mr. Bridgerton was only trying to protect me from embarrassment.” Her face burned red with shame, but she tilted her chin up and met their eyes, forcing herself to see the shock in Anthony’s and the deep disappointment in Violet’s. 

“Penelope!” Violet breathed, her hand flying to her chest in surprise. 

Anthony didn’t know where to look, but stood there with his mouth gaping open in a manner that Penelope would find comical in any other situation.

Colin appeared startled by her sudden appearance, but she hoped he knew she would never leave him to face this alone. He sat up as well with a protective look on his face, the same one he had when he confronted Cousin Jack.

 “Please allow Miss Featherington her dignity and turn your backs,” Colin said firmly, attempting to block her as much as possible as he angled his body in front of hers. Penelope tried not to notice how firm his bare chest was or how the linen sheet pooled temptingly around his waist. Now was not the time for wanton thoughts, no matter how handsome he appeared.

Anthony’s face was a worrying color, but he turned around in a highly dignified manner, holding his hands behind him. 

“Well, it appears we found you, Miss Featherington. And it is highly fortunate that we did and not one of the servants.”

Tears pricked at Penelope’s eyes, but she vowed not to cry, no matter how they scolded and shamed her. She had made a decision last night and she would behave as a lady in the aftermath. Colin reached for her hand and squeezed it in a comforting gesture.

“I thank you not to speak to Miss Featherington in that tone, brother. If you cannot be respectful, I ask you to leave.” 

“Now, now,” Violet interjected, before the exchange could become more heated. “We all want the same outcome—to avoid scandal. We must remain calm and do what is best for each party involved. Anthony, please fetch Eloise so she can assist in bringing Penelope proper attire. Then return to your study and write to the archbishop about a special license,” Violet ordered. “I will remain here as a chaperone until we can remove Miss Featherington from the room without being seen.”

Penelope’s heart raced wildly as plans for her future were being decided by others. She must make her wishes known before it was too late. 

“I don’t wish to be difficult, Lady Bridgerton, but surely there is no need for a special license or a wedding at all. This... indiscretion will not be repeated, I assure you.”

Anthony began shaking his head adamantly. “My brother will act as a gentleman of honor; there can be no question of your marrying.”

Colin squeezed her hand tighter and spoke in a low undertone. “He is correct, Penelope. We must marry. I planned to speak to you about it—I do not behave as I did with a young lady of your standing without rendering a proposal.”

The tears that had been threatening to appear began to leak from her eyes as she shook her head frantically. “No! I do not wish for you to marry me out of obligation. Please, convince them. Help me.” 

The look on Colin’s face could only be described as agonized, and now he was squeezing her hand almost painfully hard. “Mother, Anthony—please allow me a moment alone with Miss Featherington.”

“That is unwise, Colin,” Violet said firmly. “You clearly cannot be trusted to restrain your impulses.”

Colin drew himself up in a dignified manner, impressive for a man clothed only in a bedsheet. “Mother, I am a grown man and this is my future wife. I will care for her as I see fit, and at the moment, that means I must speak to her alone. You may wait in my dressing room—you cannot truly think anything untoward will happen with you on the other side of the door.”

Penelope watched in awe as Colin took command of the situation, standing up to his mother in a way she had never seen before. A tiny, traitorous part of her heart adored hearing him call her his future wife, even as her mind frantically sought a way out of this predicament. Her thoughts flew over their years of friendship—he had been so constant and loyal. He had tried to protect her from Cressida, from Uncle Jack, even from Eloise at times. He so sweetly inquired after her well-being in his letters, even as she did all she could to avoid becoming the focus of their correspondence. 

But despite all that, how could she forget what happened afterward—the way he had cast her aside as if she meant nothing? Laughing at her with the very scorn she never dreamed would come from his lips. Could she trust Colin to be a faithful husband to her? Or would his momentary heroism disappear at the first sign of difficulty?

After a murmured conversation between Anthony and Violet, they appeared willing to accommodate Colin’s request. 

“I will speak to you shortly,” Anthony barked at Colin as he departed on his errands.

“I’m sure you will,” Colin muttered under his breath while giving a respectful nod, and it was all Penelope could do not to laugh. 

Violet met Colin’s eyes steadily. “Be the man that I know you can be. You have ten minutes.”

When they were alone, Penelope felt all the awkwardness of their situation. She was naked in Colin Bridgerton’s bed, and the intimacy of the night before was lost in the bright light of day. Colin seemed to understand as he pulled his breeches from the floor and covered himself before handing Penelope the nightgown that had betrayed them. After she slipped it over her head, he sat beside her and took her hand.

“Penelope, I know this is sudden, but it is the only possible course. All will be well. I’m certain of it.”

He appeared steady and serious as he implored her with his gaze. Penelope considered herself fairly clever, but she couldn’t make sense of his reaction. After laughing at the possibility of courting her, now he wished to make her his wife?

She took a deep breath, trying to find the words to convince him. “Surely you cannot want this any more than I do. Together, we can convince your family to maintain their silence and no harm will be done. I was not likely to marry regardless so our…relations last night need not signify.” 

She blushed to speak of it, but they must be open or find themselves bound together in unhappiness. Penelope did not want that for either of them. Colin winced but it must only be due to his pride. No gentleman wished to be rejected, even if he did not much desire the lady in question.

“I would be pleased to marry you—what I said was unforgivable, but I truly have nothing but respect and affection for you. And Penelope, you said you wanted to be married.”

“Yes, but to someone who wanted me. I do not wish to marry you, Mr. Bridgerton. It would be intolerable.”

Colin felt her words like a stab to the heart. She looked distraught, as though nothing could bring her more suffering than being tied to him as his wife. He knew he had hurt her, but her refusal to even consider marrying him showed how great her wound had been. He imagined this incident occurring last season and knew that Penelope and he, while not in love, would have been able to enter marriage together cordially, even happily. 

The thought gave him pause. Why was it so easy to imagine a joyful marriage with Penelope? And why did he not feel more alarmed at the prospect of such a sudden wedding? He had sworn off women during his first tour, vowing never to be swept away by his impulses as he had with Miss Thompson. The entire ton had seen him exposed as the most gullible fool, and he refused to open himself up to further scorn. But the thought of committing to Penelope only filled him with comfort. The last few months had been fraught with missing her, worrying for her, and longing for her company. If she were his wife, they would have nothing but time to mend their friendship. He could prove himself to her as they spent their days in blissful companionship. As he pondered their future, silent tears began running down her cheeks. 

“Pen, dear Pen,” he said, reaching to embrace her. She flinched away, lip trembling as she avoided his gaze. He settled for pulling his handkerchief from the drawer beside his bed and gently wiping her tears away. Colin had never been this close to her in the daylight, and he noticed that the most adorable tiny freckles dusted her nose. Her inky lashes glistened with tears, and he could hardly bear it. “Do not fret. I will be a good husband to you if you accept me.”

She looked up at him with deep sadness written on her face. “How can you be?” she asked softly. “How can you be a good husband to a woman you do not want?”

“I do want you, Penelope.” Colin paused as a lump lodged itself in his throat. “You matter to me. Why else would I have made love to you? I beg you—give me the opportunity to make amends.”

“Please, if our friendship ever meant anything to you, find a way to free us from this. After what you said, I cannot marry you,” she pleaded.

“Surely, you see that you must. My mother and Anthony will insist, and I refuse to leave you unprotected when I bear the responsibility for this incident in the first place. This outcome was set into motion the moment I joined with you last night. I am sorry that my foolishness put you in this position, but you know this is the only remedy.”

Colin heard rustling in his dressing room and knew that time was running out. He dropped to one knee beside the bed and reached for her hand again, kissing it tenderly. Her eyes were glazed with tears and he was struck by how beautiful she looked, clad in nothing but a night dress with her red hair tumbling around her shoulders. This was to be his wife, and he vowed to do everything in his power to sweep the sadness from her life and replace it with all the goodness that she deserved.

“Penelope Featherington, dearest Pen, would you do me the honor of marrying me? Will you seek happiness with me by your side? Will you allow me to care for you?”

Her shoulders sagged with defeat, and she sighed. “Yes, Mr. Bridgerton. I suppose I must.”

Chapter Text

Penelope sat in Colin’s desk chair, properly attired in the day dress that had just been delivered. When Eloise stepped into the room, their eyes met for a moment, and the bewilderment and spark of anger there convinced Penelope that she would have further repair to do with her friend after all was said and done. Violet had forbidden them to speak until Penelope was safely back where she should be.

Now, Colin’s mother was silently arranging her hair so that no one else would be aware she had spent the night away from her room. Penelope was glad that gentlemen did not possess vanities, as she was certain that seeing Violet’s disapproving gaze in the mirror would sink her to even lower depths. At some point, she must speak. After all, Penelope had always looked up to her, and she was hopeful that warm relations between them might go some distance toward salvaging this utter disaster of an engagement.

“Lady Bridgerton, I’m sorry to break your trust in me,” Penelope murmured contritely. “I never meant to bring shame on your family. You have been nothing but kind to me.”

Violet’s clever fingers continued to add pins to Penelope’s hair. She supposed the matron had many years to observe her lady’s maid and had perhaps even styled her own daughters’ hair from time to time. It was the sort of affectionate mother she was, not leaving the care and raising of her children to the servants. Penelope couldn’t remember being touched on any regular basis, let alone having her mother perform a tender act such as brushing or arranging her hair. 

To her surprise, Violet reached down to squeeze her shoulder reassuringly. “Penelope, I am not angry at you. While I wish you had not anticipated your vows, passion can become quite overwhelming. Believe it or not, I remember what it was like to be young and in love.”

Penelope flushed in embarrassment. It was almost more difficult to converse about her potential feelings for her betrothed than to hear their passion referenced. “You are mistaken. Colin does not…he does not see me as a woman, and certainly not as the woman he loves.”

Violet let out a thoughtful hum but proceeded to brush out the long curls draped around Penelope’s shoulders. “Are you certain of that? My third son doesn’t have a reputation as a rake, and he certainly seems eager to marry you.”

“I heard him say so himself.”

“Whatever do you mean, dear?”

Penelope paused. She did not wish to speak ill of Colin, but she was so confused and had no one to confide in. She and Eloise were only just beginning to reconcile, and she did not wish for her to overreact and perhaps hold Colin’s words against him.

“He told me himself that he does not think of me as a woman, only a friend. And at my family’s ball, he told a group of gentlemen that he would never dream of courting me.”

Violet set the brush down abruptly and turned Penelope’s shoulders so they were facing each other. “Publicly? Is this why I have not seen the two of you dancing or speaking in corners of late?”

Penelope’s eyes widened in surprise. Violet had noticed their intimacy? Perhaps they had not been as discreet as Penelope thought. Colin had always skirted the edges of propriety with her, and she had never had the will to do more than halfheartedly protest. If Violet had been watching them, then she must know, or at the very least suspect, that Penelope was madly in love with her son. She knew from Whistledown that people revealed much merely through their facial expressions and unconscious reactions. Despite guarding herself, it was entirely possible she had given herself away.

“Yes, he spoke publicly and it hurt me deeply. I’ve been attempting to maintain a more proper distance from him so that we do not attract further notice. I only wish to be an indifferent acquaintance to your son. Last night—I truly do not understand how events unfolded as they did.”

When she dared to meet Violet’s eyes, they were filled with compassion and something shrewd that Penelope could not fully grasp. “My dear child. This in fact helps me to understand all the more how you found yourself in such a position.” Penelope waited for her to say more, but Violet merely stood and began to put the last touches on her hair.

“Lady Bridgerton, what shall I do? I never wished to trap Colin in an unhappy marriage. I only want what is best for him.”

“Penelope, I believe you may be exactly what my son needs to be happy. You have always been such friends to one another, and I believe that friendship is the surest foundation for love, if it is given a chance to blossom.”

“I am afraid that he will grow to resent me.” She paused, uncertain if she could share an even deeper fear. “Or that he will not remain faithful to me,” she admitted quietly. 

“My son is extremely loyal to those he loves, and soon you will be his family. I know he will protect you and care for you. But might I suggest something?”

Penelope nodded, although she was not thoroughly convinced by Lady Bridgerton’s optimism. 

“Speak to him of your fears. Speak to him of your hopes. And see if the two of you can agree upon a vision of the future that will bring you both happiness.”

“I will try. I wish to make both of you proud,” Penelope admitted. 

Violet hummed as she tilted Penelope’s chin this way and that, examining her hairstyle for flaws. She must have found it satisfactory for she paused to hold both of Penelope’s hands. 

“My dear, you know my fondness for you, and I have every confidence that you will be a lovely wife and mother. Do not concern yourself with making me proud—I am already. And by the looks of Colin when he told me you had accepted his proposal, I believe he is as well.”

Penelope blushed in confusion, remembering how straight and tall Colin had stood as he spoke to his mother of their engagement. She had hardly known where to look given her tousled hair and the visible red marks on her collarbone, but he had been as calm as if they were making an announcement properly at dinner. He had kissed Penelope’s hand possessively in farewell, but not before warning his mother to treat her kindly. 

“Do you plan to tell my mother how you found us?” she asked, finding the courage now to voice another of her concerns.

“I see no need for that given that you plan to marry quickly. It would be best for both families if we presented it as the love match that I believe it to be."

Violet embraced her then, her hair completed, and Penelope took comfort in it. Perhaps all would be well if she had the Bridgertons’ support. “You have been so gracious. Thank you.”

“Of course,” Violet said warmly. “Now you are officially one of my girls, and I could not be more pleased about it.”

_______

The door shut with a harsh click, and Eloise leaned against it, staring at Penelope. She had been laying on the bed after begging off a game of Pall Mall due to an imaginary headache. The truth was, they would be announcing the engagement at dinner, and she needed to prepare herself for the onslaught of attention. She wished there were not quite so many guests staying at the moment, but on the other hand at least the gossip would die down more quickly once word of the unlikely pairing spread.

“Did you allow yourself to be compromised deliberately?” Eloise asked, without so much as a ‘good afternoon.’ 

Penelope shot straight up, her heart pounding. “What? No! Of course not!”

“So this was not part of a scheme to marry my brother?”

Now her eyes were welling up with tears. “I would never do that to Colin. I tried to convince him not to marry me.” 

“Then help me to understand, Penelope. How did this happen?”

Eloise’s stormy gray eyes bore into her, pleading for an explanation. Penelope twisted her fingers, casting her gaze around the room. While she stumbled through the sequence of events that led from the hallway to Colin’s bedchamber, her eyes briefly met Eloise’s before skittering away.

“Your brother and I have not been on the best of terms recently, as you know. We were discussing the rift, and he kissed me. We meant to rise early to avoid scandal. But we overslept and then, you know the rest.”

Eloise raised her eyebrows at Penelope. “And that is all that occurred?”

“More occurred, but it is private between the two of us,” Penelope said firmly. She didn’t feel the need to provide Eloise with intimate details simply because she felt upset. One of the shifts required to strengthen their friendship was that Penelope needed to stand firm at times and make herself heard. “What I will assure you of is that there was no premeditation, either on my part or his.”

“But you love him?” Eloise asked.

“You know that I do,” Penelope sighed. She had vowed to be more open with Eloise, and in turn, her best friend had promised to be less self-centered. As they discussed Lady Whistledown’s column about Marina and Colin, the truth had been confessed, with all its complexities, conflicting loyalties, and mixed motives. “This is what I was trying to protect Colin from—a marriage based on a lie.”

“Will you tell him?” 

“Yes, as soon as I can get him alone privately so we can discuss it.” Penelope felt exhausted at the thought of it. “I imagine he’ll be even more furious than you were.”

Eloise winced, the pain of that discovery still raw and slicing through them whenever Lady Whistledown became relevant to the conversation. Penelope was grateful when her friend reached for her hand, as they used to do. They lay in silence for a while, staring at the ceiling. 

“Do you wish for me to tell him? I can speak with him privately more easily than you can. Perhaps I can help him to understand.”

Penelope’s eyes pricked with tears yet again, and she wondered if she would ever stop crying. Ever since she was locked out of the room, her life had begun spinning out of her control and she was unsure how to make it stop. Her emotions were rising and falling with each new revelation, and the thought that Eloise would do that for her, would defend her, meant the world to her.

“El, you are the best friend I could hope for.  That you would even offer to take on such a task after how I hurt you is astonishing. But I need to see his reaction for myself. Perhaps it’s not too late to call off the engagement.” 

“Penelope, Benedict hinted that… you and Colin... lay together.” Eloise shuddered, and Penelope could tell that she was soldiering on only out of love for her. “You will be ruined if you do not marry him. And you could be with child.” 

Penelope bit her lip thoughtfully. She knew that Eloise was correct, but that didn’t change how unbearable it would be to marry without affection. “It is better to be ruined than to be unloved. I’ve had my fill of living with those who cannot stand the sight of me, and to experience that with the one who has my heart?”

Eloise squeezed her hand harder. “I’m sorry I ever made you feel unloved. And I’m sorry I accused you of compromising Colin. I know you wouldn’t do such a thing.”

She shifted uncomfortably, and Penelope knew how difficult it was for her to admit fault. She leaned her head affectionately against her friend’s and sighed. “I forgive you. You’re still trying to reconcile Penelope, your friend, with Lady Whistledown, and it makes you uncertain about my potential for ruthlessness. But you must consider how much I love you and your family. I will always choose the path that causes you the least harm and pain.”

“You love me still?” Eloise snuggled closer to Penelope, allowing a glimpse of her vulnerability that was usually hidden. “Even now that you’re marrying my brother?”

“I will always need you and you will always be the first person who ever loved me. You cannot rid yourself of me so easily.”

Eloise sighed and squeezed her hand again.“Penelope, all will be well. I am here, and you will never be alone.”

——-

Plump baby Augie was in Penelope’s arms, fast asleep. She caressed the little round fold at each wrist and marveled at how quickly he had grown. His comforting weight as she rocked him settled her as she thought about the announcement the night before. 

Colin was jubilant as he told the assembled guests about their engagement, his broad smile only faltering when she squeezed his arm nervously. It was so like his announcement about Marina, and yet the aftermath couldn’t have been more different. Her heart had nearly burst at the reactions of his family, the way his siblings erupted with excitement and immediately gathered around her to extend their best wishes. Only Violet’s steady gaze prevented them from embracing Colin and Penelope as they wished to in front of all the assembled guests. And Colin’s eyes were shining, with no hint of hesitation or regret. 

As they ate dinner, she could hear Violet fielding a rather impertinent question from someone who had heard of Colin’s declaration at the Featherington ball. He reached to caress her hand softly under the table, and she did her best to reassure him by directing a little smile his way. 

"Yes, Lady Cowper, but you know how young men will say most anything when they are uncertain of a lady’s affections. The outcome speaks for itself.”

Penelope admired Lady Bridgerton’s elegant handling of the situation. Much better to present Colin as an insecure suitor rather than a reluctant one. She wondered how the gentleman in question would react, but he only leaned over and whispered lightly in her ear. “May I have a moment alone with you this evening?” The tickle of his breath against her earlobe made her shiver, and for a moment, their eyes caught heatedly. Penelope felt confused by it—hadn’t last night simply been about the impulse of the moment for Colin? 

“I’m not certain that would be wise, Mr. Bridgerton,” Penelope replied quietly. She focused on pushing her food around with her fork rather primly as a distraction. She knew they had much to speak of— she had much to share with him if they were to enter this marriage honestly. But how to begin? The thought of seeing Colin so sad, so hurt , as he had been after she interfered with his elopement was unbearable. His reaction to learning of her secret identity would be even worse. Surely one more day of silence wouldn’t signify. 

He frowned at his plate and let go of her hand with a final squeeze. Colin looked so disappointed, so unlike the joyful man he had been just moments ago. Penelope tried to think of a way to raise his spirits. It wasn’t entirely ladylike, but she caught his notice, indicating he should lean toward her again. 

“I fear for my virtue if we’re alone,” she whispered. The side of his mouth slipped into a pleased smirk as she winked at him. There. This banter, this teasing, felt familiar, as though they were at a ball exchanging barbs. Yet it was also different, for now there was a flirtatious edge to their interactions that hadn’t been there before. Penelope supposed that becoming lovers had inevitably changed how they spoke to one another. Even now, their bodies seemed drawn together, leaning in until Violet cleared her throat, startling them both, particularly when she subtly shook her head at them. Penelope resumed taking small bites of her meal, but all the while wondered what Colin would have said or done if they hadn’t been interrupted. 

That evening in the drawing room, they were rarely separated but so surrounded by well-wishers that they never got a private word. She could feel his heat next to her on the settee. Whenever their thighs or arms accidentally brushed together, her mind flashed back to the night before. She remembered how his skin felt against hers, like the finest silk. When he explored that wet, tender center and brought her such exquisite satisfaction. Did anyone notice her shifting in her chair as she fought the growing tension? Several times, Penelope could sense that Colin wished to speak to her, but she was relieved that they hadn’t had an opportunity. It required enough of her energy to remain smiling, to act the part of the demure yet overjoyed young bride, when her thoughts were far from proper.

Even today, the other guests watched and whispered about her wherever she went. Daphne seemed to understand and suggested she visit Augie in his nursery after tea. It was ideal as none of the other guests would venture to that part of the house and she could be alone with her thoughts once the nursemaid was dismissed. 

She rocked back and forth, snuggling the baby close and watching his long lashes flutter against his skin as he dreamed. After a time, she felt a presence in the room and saw Colin standing in the doorway, watching her with a soft expression. He crossed to where she sat and kneeled beside the pair, gently brushing a wispy curl off Augie’s forehead. 

“Would you like me to lift him into his cot?” he whispered.

“Perhaps in a moment. I’m enjoying holding him.” Penelope smiled down at Augie. “He’s such a precious baby.” 

Her heart stopped when Colin pressed a tender kiss on her cheek. “How fortunate our children will be to have you as a mother.”

She swallowed down the lump in her throat that arose at the tenderness in his voice. Our children. The words echoed in her head, and suddenly it all felt so real. Their future together: waking up beside each other, making love. Why was he speaking to her this way? He almost seemed pleased to think of their life together, as though—as though he admired her. But he had made it clear that his affections would never lie with her. It was utterly confusing.

“Could I trouble you to put him in bed now? I find myself in need of rest myself.” All she wanted to do was escape the room and these conflicting feelings.

“Penelope, stay with me.” Colin paused, reading her uncertainty. “How are you?”

“All seems to be well in hand. I think the ceremony and wedding breakfast will please you,” she replied politely. Violet had already begun to speak to her about the arrangements, hoping to have matters decided upon before Portia was brought into the planning process. 

“That wasn’t what I asked. I wish to know how you are faring.” His blue eyes searched hers, looking for answers that she herself didn’t possess.

“How was your discussion with Lord Bridgerton? I hope he wasn’t too harsh with you.” She would much rather hear how Colin was adjusting then share her own feelings. And she had worried for him, knowing that the eldest Bridgerton could be quite imposing with his siblings when they didn’t measure up to his standard of behavior.

Colin’s clenched jaw was her first indication that it hadn’t gone well. “He was disappointed in my lack of judgment but our marriage will settle his concerns.”

“It was not your responsibility alone. Do not blame yourself.” She placed her hand on his shoulder and rubbed it soothingly with her thumb. Normally she would be embarrassed to touch him in such a way, but it seemed cold to employ false modesty when he needed her support. He leaned his cheek against her hand and sighed.

“I should have acted the gentleman. I failed you,” he said. “I trapped you the way Miss Thompson tried to trap me.”

Penelope’s stomach squirmed at the reminder of her hand in dissolving Colin’s previous engagement. She really must speak to him about Whistledown before the wedding. But he looked unlike himself at the moment, so full of shame and guilt. She tightened her hold on his shoulder and squeezed. Poor Colin. It was so like him to focus on his own errors and forget all about the role she played in their situation. 

“No, it was nothing like that. You would never intentionally trap or harm me.” She cradled his face so he couldn’t avoid her. “I wanted you too. My pride allowed me to believe we wouldn’t be caught, but I shared in the pleasure and I will also share in the consequences.” 

Her cheeks flushed at her boldness, and Colin was staring at her in a way she had never seen before. There was gratitude and awe and heat . He leaned in as though preparing to kiss her, but she ducked her head at the last moment so that his lips found her cheek instead. She regretted it the moment a dark flash of disappointment crossed his face, and before she could second guess her impulse she pressed a shy kiss to his cheek as well, before looking away. Baby Augie’s delicate lids fluttered at the movement, but he didn’t wake. Penelope concentrated on rocking him until she felt sufficiently collected after her display of affection.

Colin’s eyes twinkled with amusement as she glanced up at him, and he seemed more at ease as he asked, “You have not yet told me: how are you?”

This was the difficulty with Colin. He gave every appearance of tender concern, and she wanted to confide all of her cares in him. If she were honest, she wanted to know every thought, every emotion that he experienced as well. Because she loved him. Even the bits that were unpleasant or immature. But she would not survive this marriage if she allowed her heart to give in to its natural inclinations. 

“I have accepted our situation if that is what you are asking.”

Colin placed his hand over her own, and her belly squirmed with discomfort. “That is not what I am asking. I wish to know what you need. From me. As your future husband, nothing is more important to me than your well-being.”

It was a perfect mirror of how she wished to care for him, but he did not understand how much it would hurt her to travel this path together. She wanted to be his wife and love him openly. It felt so natural to encourage his dreams and share some of her own. But allowing herself that intimacy in the past is what led to such wretched heartbreak when he betrayed her with his dismissal and his cruel laughter. 

“Mr. Bridgerton, I know that you only intend to be kind. But pretending friendship where there is none will only make matters more difficult.”

He stiffened beside her as he took in her formality and harsh words. The hurt in the thin line of his mouth wrenched at her, but Penelope maintained her silence even as her eyes welled with tears. They gazed at each other miserably, neither sure of how to ease the tension. Colin eventually lifted Augie from her lap and tucked him gently into bed, the child only stirring a little and then rolling over with a sigh.

When he was certain Augie had settled, Colin returned to her side, lifting her hand and kissing it before turning to take his leave. She stood, worried that she would break if he left with relations between them in such a fractured state. Her fear never seemed to completely overcome her desire to see him happy. She couldn’t gauge his reaction when she stepped toward him, wrapping her arms around his waist, but she could feel him hesitate before returning the gesture. They held each other for only a moment before Penelope stepped back, dashing away the rebellious tears that betrayed her turmoil. Colin handed her a handkerchief but seemed to understand that no words were adequate to soothe her at the moment.

She gathered herself as well as she could, embarrassed that she had not been able to remain calm and unaffected. Penelope thought Colin would leave as quickly as he could, since she had done such a horribly effective job of pushing him away, but he broke the silence instead. “Penelope, I care for you. Soon, you will believe me. We Bridgertons are notoriously determined when we set our minds to something.” 

Now he was moving toward the door, and Penelope was so dumbstruck that she did not even think to call him back so she could reveal herself as Whistledown. Or perhaps it was simply that seeing Colin act with such purpose, such tender feeling, and knowing it was all for her, lit a fire of hope that she was not eager to extinguish so soon.

Chapter Text

Penelope sat at her dressing table, looking at the gowns hung about the room. They were everywhere; shades of rose, light wisps of mint green, lavender, and, of course, various hues of blue. Despite promising herself that she wouldn’t worry about Colin’s opinions, her thoughts as she shopped for her trousseau were traitorous. Would he like this gown or that? He had complimented her hair once when it was around her shoulders; perhaps he preferred it down. Every detail of her appearance was considered for its ability to capture his eye and win his approval. 

Her mother was ecstatic at the engagement, of course, and the days since their return from Aubrey Hall had been filled with wedding planning. She and Colin saw one another in company but hadn’t been alone since his visit to Augie’s nursery. Violet was an extremely attentive chaperone, even accompanying Colin on his calls to see Penelope, claiming she needed to speak to Portia about all the details. Penelope was relieved as it meant she could delay speaking to him about Lady Whistledown for a short time. She had hinted to him that she had something to share, but there was never the opportunity to elaborate. 

For his part, Colin was an extremely attentive suitor. The first time he called, he brought flowers for Penelope and her mother, as well as a ring he had selected from the Bridgerton family collection. As he slipped the emerald on her finger, Penelope made the error of meeting his warm eyes, before blushing in confusion. For some reason, the expression on his face reminded her of how he looked when he was singing. It was his joyful look, and it didn’t make sense that he would be pleased by giving her a ring. So why were his eyes sparkling, his mouth pulling up into that open smile? Why would he look that way when considering his marriage to her, someone he didn’t want? 

They engaged in polite conversation, but Penelope could feel herself very deliberately shifting them away from any deep discussion. It was an old strategy that she had perfected growing up in the Featherington household. And she had always enjoyed speaking to Colin of books and his travels, as well as the gossip of the ton. It would be no hardship to spend time in his company if she could merely forget that she loved him. In a matter of days, she would be Mrs. Colin Bridgerton—it was finally beginning to feel real. 

When she looked out her window, she could see across the square to the Bridgertons. And even though she knew Colin had secured a townhouse elsewhere after Anthony’s marriage, she imagined him there and wondered what he was thinking. He hadn’t seemed reluctant to marry her, but was that his signature charm aiming to please her, or how he truly felt? Her attention caught on a mirror hanging across the room, and she examined her clear blue eyes, long red hair, and ivory skin, trying to see herself through his eyes. Did her future husband find her beautiful or had he been swept up in the passion of the moment? 

Penelope prided herself on making the best of difficult situations. She was overlooked by her family and the Ton, but she had used that invisibility to create something she could call her own. While it was true that she had not wanted to marry under these circumstances, must she sacrifice all of her dreams and desires? If her mother had taught her anything, it was that Featherington women must fight for their own happiness. 

She could never trust her husband to love her; that was a certainty. But his other views might be more changeable. He told her once that though he had sworn off women, she did not count. Could Penelope help him see her as a woman? She was not as ignorant of the marriage bed as she once had been, due to her work as Lady Whistledown and her friendship with Gen. And their encounter that first night had been fiery and tender—it was more than she had ever hoped for. Colin seemed to enjoy it as well. He was so handsome, and now she knew that the deep pull in the pit of her belly was desire. Perhaps their passion could be an outlet for all the affection she could never allow him to see. 

Penelope had arranged a special order with Gen, one her mother and Lady Bridgerton could never know about. Scandalous nightgowns were popular in France, and she was certain from the way Colin’s gaze lingered on her form that he would appreciate seeing her in one. The matrons of the ton wouldn’t approve if they knew, but they would certainly capture the attention of a young man with needs. 

Colin hadn’t chosen her, but she wanted to try anyway, despite the lingering sense of self-doubt. And now, as she brushed out her hair before bed, she wondered if it would be enough. If she could be enough for him without losing herself along the way. The next time she completed her nightly toilette, she would be Mrs. Colin Bridgerton and she supposed she would soon find out.

______

Penelope’s eyes were downcast as the doors opened and she entered the sanctuary. She could hear hushed whispers on all sides. Curious stares followed her as she glided toward her betrothed. The special license, along with the unlikeliness of the match, had certainly generated much gossip. Lady Whistledown herself had reported on it, and Penelope burned with guilt that she hadn’t revealed herself to Colin before the wedding. She could generate a lengthy list of reasons for not telling him—the engagement had only lasted a week due to the circumstances, there had been no opportunity to speak in private, she had been too preoccupied with ordering her trousseau and other wedding errands. But she knew that’s exactly what they were—excuses. She couldn’t bear to disrupt the harmony that had been established over the last few days. It was so lovely to sit beside him at a celebratory dinner and to be held lightly in his arms while dancing at a hastily planned engagement ball. She knew it was an illusion, but he made her feel as though she belonged with him. 

Penelope was worried about what she would find in the expression on his face at the sight of her in her finery. Would he be proud of his bride? When she gathered the courage to look up, he was staring at her, an expression of surprise in his blue eyes. He looked… pleased. Emotional. For a moment, Penelope allowed the full gravity of the moment to sink in, and her eyes filled with tears. She was marrying the man she loved, even if he did not love her back. When he took her hands in hers at the altar, she was proud that she held them without trembling.

She allowed herself to focus on his face as they spoke their vows. It was bittersweet to stand here, promising love and devotion to one another, when she knew how hollow he must find the words. On her part, it was as natural as breathing to declare herself to him, for she had made such promises in her heart long ago. It would be her only wedding, and she wanted to remember the look in his eyes and the smile on his face, his eyes shining. The little squeeze of her hand when they turned to face the congregation. He gave every appearance of happiness, and she soaked it in, allowing herself to be swept away in the fantasy of becoming Colin’s cherished bride.

______

The wedding breakfast passed by in a blur, and soon Penelope stepped across the threshold of her new home for the first time. After the necessary introductions to his small household staff, Colin turned to Penelope. “I should like to give you the tour myself.” 

She smiled sweetly, but Colin felt his nerves rendering him speechless yet again. He still felt overcome by the emotions of the wedding, especially seeing her glide so gracefully toward him. Her expression had been shy as she looked up at him, and so incredibly endearing, for he saw how she longed for his approval. How could she ever doubt his admiration?  

Perhaps it was the intimacy they had shared in the country, or merely the experience of longing for her during the lonely weeks of their estrangement, but Colin couldn’t quite think of Penelope as merely his friend anymore. As startling as it was, he could freely admit that he was developing something of a tendre toward his wife. It was difficult not to stare at her lovely face when they were in the same room, or rehearse conversations before he saw her to sharpen his wit. He sighed as he led her up the stairs, wishing that this revelation could have occurred before he had damaged their friendship at the Featherington ball. Penelope may not have been open to his suit even then, but at least he could have tried to win her heart without this tension hanging over them.

His dearest wish was to return to the previous comfort they had shared, and he hoped some time alone would be helpful. She was so subdued now. He tried not to lose himself in thoughts of what could have been—if only he had used more wisdom in choosing his words. Now that the servants were occupied with other duties, he reached for her hand and was pleased when she not only grasped it but began stroking it softly with her thumb. 

“For the present, this will be our bedchamber,” he said as he ushered her into a large room outfitted for a gentleman. There was the bed, which seemed to loom toward him with its significance. They had been limited to chaste touches during their engagement, but even those made Colin feel like a green schoolboy. Their intimacy at Aubrey Hall had illuminated truths that Colin had long been resisting. Namely, that Penelope was so much more than he had ever imagined, and he could not imagine a life where she wasn’t at his side.

They had been friends for so long, and now he would need to be pleasing to her as a husband. He had lost Penelope’s approval of his character already, and now he feared he would not measure up to her expectations of a husband either. Already he felt like a failure, given the modest home he could provide at the moment.

“I know it’s much smaller than you’re accustomed to, but I hope you’ll be comfortable here.”

“I’m sure I will be,” she murmured, looking around curiously, tugging on his hand in a way that made his mouth quirk up at the corner. She hadn’t let go and seemed to have no intention of doing so anytime soon. 

Despite her reassurance, he felt the need to explain. “Our marriage came about so quickly, and there was no time to find a suitable house. I’m afraid that there are no adjoining rooms here, and we’ll need to share until I can make other arrangements.”

Penelope’s heart clenched at Colin’s expression. At times, she felt she knew him better than herself, and she could see his self-doubt surfacing. He struggled with his place in the world, and she had no wish to increase his suffering.

“Mr. Bridgerton, I shall be very comfortable in your home,” she assured him. “Everything is lovely.”

While she meant the words kindly, Colin was disappointed at her emphasis on his ownership, not to mention her formality. Almost as though they had not married and become a family of their own. Would it ever feel that way, or would this wretched distance remain between them, keeping them from friendship or even love? 

“It’s your home now too.” 

Penelope smiled blandly. “How kind of you to say so.”

Colin sighed and looked at her imploringly. “It is not simply kindness, Penelope. I truly wish for you to be happy here.”

She patted his arm with a smile, but it felt polite rather than genuine. “Fear not, Mr. Bridgerton. I have no intention of being unhappy or neglecting my duties as your wife.”

Colin winced. Her insistence on formality was driving him mad. “I hope marriage will not simply be a duty for either of us, when we could have so much more than that. And Penelope, please call me Colin.” 

Penelope sat on the bed with an inscrutable look on her face. “I prefer to refer to you with the respect due to you as my husband.”

Colin joined her, not close enough to touch but still far closer than he would have allowed himself in any drawing room. “I can understand that, but may I tell you what I would prefer? This is our home now, together. When it is only the two of us in our rooms, I hope you will allow yourself to be at ease.”

Penelope focused her attention on Colin’s hand, caressing her knee in tiny circles as he spoke. “I don’t know how to behave,” she said quietly. “I’m nervous.”

Colin could almost feel his heart expanding in relief that she wasn’t angry or indifferent toward him. She simply needed comfort. And somehow, he knew that comforting Penelope was something he was born to do. 

He edged closer to her on the bed and wrapped his arm around her. When she offered no objection, he leaned in and kissed her temple. “I’m new to this as well. You told me once that your purpose would set you free. I know marriage is not what you had in mind, but I hope you will find freedom as my wife. Perhaps we can learn together how to live our lives more fully.”

Penelope leaned closer and her head came to rest on his shoulder. “You want me to be free? Is that not the opposite of what I vowed today?” she asked.

She felt so sweet leaning there against him that he gave in to the urge to drop another kiss on top of her red hair. 

“When we first began writing, I only intended to convey my condolences for the loss of your father. But I began to see through our letters that there is so much more to you than you allow others to see.” He turned so he could tilt her chin up to look at him. “I wonder if, as Penelope Bridgerton, you will allow me the honor of knowing you fully. I don’t wish to control or change you. I only wish to share a happy life and a family,” he finished softly.

Penelope’s blue eyes somehow appeared even more luminous when she was gazing at him so softly. He wished he could capture it, hold it safe for the times when he began to doubt her affection for him. Their lips met in a sweet press and Colin worried his heart would beat out of his chest. It was an innocent kiss, but their first as husband and wife. When they drew apart, they both smiled a little shyly. 

“You’re my wife,” he said before he could stop himself, his eyes crinkling as a grin broke across his face. Now she would really think him a fool. The tips of his ears reddened, but Penelope only giggled and squeezed his hand.

“Yes, I am. And you are my husband. Truly.” They grinned at one another for a moment before Penelope broke their eye contact. “Now, I hate to trouble you, but I have a rather delicate concern with my garments. Could you turn your back for a moment…” She trailed off, biting her lip, uncertain of exactly what to say.

“Of course.” Colin turned to give her privacy but could hear her sighing and even letting out an adorable little huff as she rustled behind him. What concern could she possibly have? He glanced over his shoulder and saw her struggling to bend forward in her rigid corset.

“May I assist you? It is surely appropriate now that we are married.”

Penelope hesitated before nodding. “My garter has come loose. Perhaps you could lift my skirts for me.” She blushed prettily at asking him for such a thing, and Colin noticed how lovely she looked in her cream gown with the faintest rose covering her cheeks.

“It would be my pleasure to lift your skirts whenever you ask,” Colin replied, and he relished the way she licked her lip and gazed back at him with fire in her eyes. He had assumed she was so innocent that she couldn't know the double meaning in her phrasing. But that look—he needed to ignore his body’s response and attempt to play the gentleman. After all, he was her husband and had already seen her in various stages of undress. Helping with her garments shouldn’t affect him so.

He knelt in front of her and lifted each layer carefully. His eyes were drawn to her silk stockings as he arranged the skirt just below her waist. A pale pink ribbon dangled uselessly around her thigh, drawing attention to the smooth skin there that he had never had the privilege of seeing in daylight. Colin allowed his gaze to shift to the area between her legs, although he knew it was most ungentlemanly of him. Would she allow him to sink into her tonight? She was so lush and he wished he could nudge her knees apart wider for a closer view of that perfect pink center. Penelope delicately cleared her throat, and Colin broke from his daydreams to see her watching him curiously.

“Would you like to tie it?” She lightly grazed her finger over that patch of silky bare skin that was so entrancing. Colin restrained himself from saying that he had never wanted anything so much in his life. He grasped the ends of the ribbon and heard her soft intake of breath when his fingers brushed against her in the process. He decided he need never travel again, for all he wanted was to map his wife’s reactions to every touch he could think of. The endeavor would take years if he were to apply himself to the task as thoroughly as he wished.

When he had slowly tied the ribbon, taking every opportunity to touch her, and lowered her skirts, he sat beside her again and captured her mouth in another kiss, much more urgent than the first. Penelope surprised him by shifting herself onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and responding with equal enthusiasm.

How could he be expected to act like a gentleman when she was squirming in his lap this way, dangerously close to his erection? He ran his fingers delicately up her sides, tracing closer to the soft curves that had been drawing his attention all day. He wanted to trace a path over each soft arch, and perhaps make her moan in the process. But before he could reach his destination, she pulled away with a final tender kiss.

Colin blinked as he saw a hint of mischief sparkling in her eyes as she continued to wiggle her bottom against him. Then her expression grew more serious.

“There was actually something I wished to speak to you about. You were discussing my writing earlier. I do write rather often, and I think you should know…” 

Colin interrupted as he saw Penelope begin to wring her hands together nervously. It was so adorable that she wished to please him, but she need not worry.

“Penelope, I know how much you love to read and write and would never prevent you from doing so. I only want to encourage your happiness.”

“Yes, but—”

Before she could say anything else, Penelope’s maid entered the room and required her mistress’s direction on how to arrange her dressing room. Colin could see that she still appeared unsettled, but he supposed that was natural on such an important day. Despite anticipating their vows, they still had much to learn about each other and Penelope was quite inexperienced in the world. He hoped she knew that he would always treat her tenderly. With his trousers uncomfortably tight, he decided to return downstairs to his study and cool his blood,  more eager than ever to spend their wedding night together.

Chapter Text

Colin’s valet had finished changing his clothes, and it was time to enter his bedchamber. How surreal it felt, hearing the feminine lilt of Penelope’s voice through the door as she chatted with her maid. Occasionally, he would hear a burst of musical laughter, bringing warmth to his soul. Of course, Penelope would be kind-hearted to the servants, and her cheer when speaking to her maid gave him hope that perhaps she would be happy as his bride. 

She dismissed her maid, and as soon as he heard the door shutting behind Henrietta, he knocked lightly and entered the room. Penelope was still seated at her dressing table and turned to smile at him. How lovely to see his wife. 

“Good evening,” she said sweetly, acting as naturally as if she was not wearing the most scandalous nightgown that Colin had ever laid eyes on. Of course, he had only seen one lady in nightclothes—that evening at Aubrey Hall when she was still called Penelope Featherington. But she was not a Featherington anymore, he reminded himself. Thank heavens for that, he thought as he gazed at the voluptuous breasts that practically spilled out of the low-cut neckline of the silky green nightdress. It hugged her form as tightly as a second skin, and he wanted to peel it off her immediately.

They were only engaged for a week, but he had imagined the wedding night in a hundred different iterations. Penelope was his beloved friend. Whenever they danced, her form was so soft and warm. And her bosom had always drawn his eye. But bedding her at Aubrey Hall changed everything. Now that he had taken her once, now that he knew what it was like to hold her close, to be buried in her sweet body, his need for her was overwhelming.

He forgot how to breathe, how to speak, how to think. All he could do was rake his eyes over her body, memorizing each delicious dip and curve, all the parts that had been hidden from him in polite society. He thought he knew how it would affect him to see her this way since he had already stolen her innocence. But observing her in the light, and knowing she had chosen such tempting attire for his pleasure, excited him beyond anything he had imagined over the last few days. Dear God, he hoped she would allow him to touch her tonight. 

He wanted to be a good husband, but he wasn’t sure what she wanted from him. Penelope had had little warmth to spare for him in company since they returned from Aubrey Hall. No, perhaps that wasn’t it. She was never unkind or cold when he came to call. She never rebuffed his attentions in front of others. She simply treated him with the same respectful cordiality she shared with Anthony or Benedict. It stung after he was used to being privy to her special thoughts. In the past, she always stopped and gave him her full attention whenever he entered a room. It was as though she preferred his company to all others. He had come to love those moments with her, and it was difficult to adjust to the change.  

The few times they were alone, she was skittish. He wasn’t sure if she wanted to push him away or come closer. But her eyes…sometimes he was sure he saw a flash of the old Penelope in her eyes. As though she was seeing him as she used to, as though she cared. 

But at other times, it was like spending time with a stranger. Her expression would ease into a perfectly proper half smile that he couldn’t interpret. 

Even now, there was amusement on her face and a presence that intrigued him. But there was none of the affection he had been used to before. It worried him. He wondered if now he was merely someone to be kind to out of necessity and habit. He no longer felt confident that there was any real eagerness to hear his thoughts or delight in his company. And yet, here they were, playacting a wedding night.

“Mr. Bridgerton?” Penelope prompted. He met her gaze and realized he had been staring for some time, trying to make out if her nipples had been quite so prominent when he first entered the room. Was she aroused as well? Did she long for his touch, or was that only wishful thinking on his part?

“I apologize, that was very ungentlemanly of me,” Colin said contritely. She had clearly noticed his lustful expression, so he might as well be honest about it.

“From what I hear, gentlemanly behavior has no place in the bedchamber of husbands and wives. You may look as long as you like,” Penelope said with a mischievous sparkle in her eye.

“Penelope!” He was accustomed to her witticisms in the ballroom, those whispered asides that never failed to make him laugh. But to tease him about such matters . He supposed their previous encounter had emboldened her.

She merely smiled at his shock and turned back to the mirror. Picking up her brush, she began combing her long red hair in smooth, rhythmic strokes. Colin stood behind her, watching her reflection. 

“You have beautiful hair,” he said softly. “I’ve always loved the color.”

Penelope glided past the compliment with a quirk of her lips but held up the ivory brush. “Would you like to help?” she asked. 

Colin took it and pulled her hair away from her face. Her locks felt like silk in his hands, and he wrestled with the sense that it was improper to be with her like this. Every lesson in appropriate conduct around young ladies had been thrown away in the course of a day, but he supposed that it was part of what defined marriage. It was so remarkable to be alone with her and be invited to touch her. He ran the brush through her hair, enjoying her closeness and the sweet scent of her perfume. Penelope watched him in the mirror with a shy smile on her face, and it grew wider when he stroked his free hand through her curls, tugging lightly on an especially tempting ringlet. 

“You’re a vision in this nightgown, lovely bride.”

“I had it made especially for you,” she replied. “Are you pleased with me?”

“Always.” A fresh surge of desire heated his body, and it was becoming difficult to contain his emotions. He was desperate to know exactly how she felt about him. Colin had never been good at restraining his impulses, and right now he wanted to share all of his tenderest feelings with her. To confess that he had been wrong, that she wasn’t simply a friend to him, and that his prior belief that they would not suit romantically was the height of folly. But she didn’t seem ready to hear it, and in fact might reject him outright if he tried. Perhaps it was better to communicate with their bodies for the time being.

Her eyes were closed now, and it lit something in him to know that he was the cause of her contentment. Feeling more confident, he rested his hand on her bare shoulder, rubbing his thumb softly against her neck. When she leaned into his touch, he could not help but seek reassurance, despite his resolution to avoid speaking too much of his feelings. 

“Do you want this?” She blinked her blue eyes open and her unabashed stare unsettled him.

“Why would I be unwilling? You are a handsome gentleman, Mr. Bridgerton. And I enjoyed our earlier encounter.”

That wasn’t the answer he had been hoping for. It was so matter-of-fact, so direct. Colin blushed under her appraising gaze. “Yes, but—I know you no longer see me as a friend.”

She shrugged delicately, even apologetically. “I imagine we both wish to claim our marital rights. From what I understand, gentlemen frequently find pleasure with those they barely know. I see no reason why we shouldn’t do the same.”

Colin’s heart dropped. “You do know me, Penelope.” 

It hurt, but he was beginning to learn that his wife put up her walls when she wasn’t certain how to behave with him. Her back was straight but he could see that she was pretending, trying to appear stronger than she was. There it was, that little quiver of her lip as she watched him in the mirror. She was feeling more than she would tell him, hurting in some way, but she wouldn’t let him in. 

“I imagine we will soon know each other much better,” she said shyly. He could see her hesitating and then, “Would you like to touch me?” 

“I’ve been longing for you our entire engagement,” he reassured her. He watched mesmerized as she took the hand that had been resting on her shoulder and guided it to her breast. His worry over her disapproval was forgotten as he felt the weight of her soft curves, his palm rubbing against the stiff peak he was so intrigued by when he came into the room. He abruptly dropped the hairbrush on the table, and watched her reactions in the mirror as he pushed down the sleeves of her nightgown, revealing one of the most gorgeous sights he had ever laid eyes on. 

Colin groaned and moved both hands to cup her, caressing gently. He had never touched any other woman’s breasts, but he couldn’t imagine a more lovely pair than his wife’s. Her rosy nipples stiffened between his fingers as he explored them, and he wondered if he could stay in control long enough to bring her pleasure. 

He tried to touch her tenderly, remembering the advice Benedict and Anthony had given him about pleasing a woman. Paying attention to each side, he allowed his touch to linger on her nipples, remembering that he should think of it as flirting, as charming. That was a role he played well. Although, with Penelope, it felt strange not to be more genuine—more connected. 

“Penelope, open your eyes.” He wanted her to see him, wanted to see a glimpse in her eyes of his Pen. The effect that perfect blue had on him was immediate. Her eyes were cloudy with lust, and there was no trace of shyness in the way she looked at him. He took possession of her breasts more firmly than before, and the moan she let out was the most sinful sound he had ever heard. 

“Take me to bed,” she panted, and Colin was happy to oblige. When she stood, she surprised him by pushing the nightgown down over her hips until it pooled at her feet, baring herself completely. The dark of night had hidden her before, so to see her luscious curves lit up by the soft glow of candlelight was breathtaking.

“Penelope, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured. 

“Will you undress for me?”

Colin removed his clothing slowly, her reactions spurring him on. It was impossible not to see that she approved of him. Her eyes took in his bare chest and toned stomach appreciatively. She stepped closer, running her hands over his biceps as he watched her in awe. But something was missing. She was missing and he wanted her—needed her.

“Penelope, stop for a moment.”

“Are you well?”

He ran his hands up and down her forearms. “I—perhaps you will think me foolish, but—” he trailed off, uncertain of how to put his concerns into words. They were standing together, completely naked, and yet she felt so far away. 

Until that distant look in her eye receded and he could tell she was seeing him again. It was astonishing how he had never noticed it before the Featherington ball, but now he always knew if she was his Pen or the wounded soul who doubted him. 

“You can tell me anything,” she said, taking his hands. She looked so caring and open in that moment, that he somehow believed her.

“I only wish to know if you still care at all. Before we—” He threw a glance at the bed, shrugging slightly. “It feels strange to touch you this way and not know if you hate me.”

Penelope was speechless for a moment. “I could never hate you. Truly. And it was not my intention to cause you doubt.” To his surprise, she reached for him and wrapped him in an embrace. His skin pressed against hers, and she was so warm, just as he remembered from that night. He toyed with her hair as he caught her lips in an unhurried kiss.

“I will learn to be the husband you need, Pen. If you cannot be my friend, will you try to be my wife?”

“I will,” she replied seriously, and Colin had the strangest feeling that they were taking their vows again, perhaps vows that were more important than those they had spoken in church today. 

“I want both of us to be happy.”

“So do I.” 

“Pen, please, when we’re here like this—call me Colin. I hate when you call me Mr. Bridgerton, as though I’m a stranger.”

She bit her lip. “I don’t want to hurt you. But will you promise me something?”

He nodded, glad that they were finally speaking more openly. 

“Can you promise not to laugh at me again? Even if I’m not present and would never be aware of it?”

He traced his fingers over the gentle slopes of her creamy shoulders, feeling protective of her. It was a strange feeling since she felt that he was the danger. But seeing her standing there so bravely before him, trying to rekindle some of the warmth they had lost but still with the sadness in her eyes—he could not imagine hurting her ever again. He could sense that they were both missing one another and the affection that used to flow between them so easily. 

“I can easily promise that. You may have cause to doubt me, but I have never spoken of you in such a way before that night.”

“I believe you,” she said softly. “What if I were to call you ‘husband’ rather than Mr. Bridgerton? Only for a short while…”

A genuine smile broke over his face. “I find I rather enjoy being called your husband. And I adore referring to you as my beautiful wife.” He raised her hand and kissed it, and she would have laughed at how gallant he was being while they were scandalously bare if she weren’t fighting off a rising blush. 

“There is one other topic to address,” Penelope began. “While we are learning to be husband and wife, I ask that you not…” She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly before continuing. “I do not wish to get with child. Not yet.”

Colin hadn’t heard of a wife making such a request before and he tried to hide his surprise and disappointment. The image of Penelope rocking his little nephew had taken up permanent space in his daydreams since their encounter in the nursery. What would it be like to see her tending to their child? He had been rather eager to make that dream a reality. 

 “Is that what will make you happy, Pen?” 

“I believe it will. Please, Colin.” 

He had known he would accede to her wishes regardless, but now he felt sure about their decision. Her happiness required his understanding and his efforts to rebuild trust between them. 

“Of course,” he replied, and returned to worshiping his beautiful bride. Kissing her still felt new and her hums of approval were so sweet against his lips.

Colin held fast to her hand, admiring the ivory perfection of her arm, so plush and graceful. She moaned at the feel of his lips on the sensitive skin of her wrist, as he turned his attention to exploring each smooth expanse of skin on his way up her arm. 

She ran her hand over his stomach and then down to his erection, gently handling him. She lightly stroked, watching for signs of excitement. 

“Have you thought about that night at Aubrey Hall? About touching each other?”

“Every hour,” he replied, taking heart that her eyes lit up at his affirmation. “I want you so badly, Pen,” he whispered roughly in her ear.

“I want you too,” she said, raising her eyes boldly to meet his. “We can try anything you like, anything you’ve dreamed about. I will like it all.”

Those big blue eyes blinked at him innocently, almost sweetly, but the words were anything but. What was she doing to him? Colin had prepared himself for her reluctance—even for outright refusal. He expected to be the confident party, soothing her and tending to her comfort. 

Instead, there was a brightness in her reactions that he recognized from her intense interest in his travels. There was a curiosity to her and an openness, even though the world had hurt her so many times. Now that same adventurous spirit and hidden depth were emerging with their lovemaking. Her desirability wasn’t reduced to her curvy body or her breathy sighs—it was the way she was so entirely seductive with every look and word. He had to give her everything.

He put his hands on her waist possessively and gently guided her back toward the bed so she could sit. Colin was surprised at his impulse to lay claim to her, to assure himself that she was his wife and nothing could separate them. The trusting look on her face gave him confidence, and he began stroking his hands over her thighs. 

“You must tell me your preferences as well. Hold nothing back.” She gasped when he teasingly inserted his finger inside of her, dipping in shallowly. “I want to feel you tighten around me while I’m taking you. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

She clenched around his finger and he murmured, “Good. Very good, Pen,” as she flushed. He experimented with crooking his finger against a spot that he’d been told could bring her immense pleasure, and she moaned loudly. 

His questions had earned him endless teasing from his brothers, but the obscene sounds she made while he attended to her made it all worthwhile. He had gleaned everything he could about how to please Penelope. Now she was looking at him in awe, and he felt like the most accomplished husband in the world. 

“Oh, oh—” Penelope was struggling for words as he teased that tender spot again and again. “If you carry on like that, I—” she whimpered.

He traced a finger slowly around that most sensitive nub and then worked his way back to dip inside of her. He groaned at how soft she was, how delicate. When he began to run his finger in gentle circles, closer and closer to where she wanted him, Penelope arched her back. Her cheeks were flushed and glowing as she lay on the bed, her breath coming in sharp pants. 

“Does that feel good, Pen? Is that what you like?”

“Yes. Please don’t stop.” Her moans had changed to whimpers. “A little lower,” she urged.

“Show me, Penelope,” he said, and to his great delight, she placed her small hand on top of his and moved it just slightly, guiding his finger to show him the right amount of pressure. Now they were both staring at their intertwined hands, and Colin hoped she was feeling the same sense of wonder at the sight that he was. He was her husband, the only one who was invited to touch her in this way, to understand what she needed. As they worked together to bring her to the peak, he realized nothing could be more beautiful or perfect than knowing Penelope in all ways. She really was his dearest friend, but she could also be so much more, if they let themselves fall together. As if in harmony with his thoughts, Penelope began to shake in his arms and cried out a final time, panting. 

It was only a few moments before she surprised him by reaching out her legs and wrapping them around his waist, pulling him closer. “Will you fill me now? Please?” she asked. Her blue eyes were begging him, and those sweet cherry lips formed a pout that he couldn’t resist. He grabbed the back of her thighs and pressed even closer.

“I could be persuaded if you say my name again.”

Her eyes grew heated. “Colin, please. Fill me.”

“Bend over the bed for me, Pen,” he coaxed. “There’s something I wish to see.”

She arranged herself obediently, and he knew he would never forget the sight of her. Her shapely derriere was perched high in the air and her petite frame made it impossible for her toes to touch the floor. She was perfectly at hip level for him on the high bed frame, and he could fully appreciate her lush curves in a way he hadn’t been able to that dark night in his room at Aubrey Hall.

“I take my duties as your husband very seriously, Penelope,” he said, running his hands over her shoulders, down her back, and stopping just shy of her plump bottom, even though it was practically begging to be touched. He could see just the barest hint of glistening pink between her thighs. It was tempting to sink into her immediately, but he reminded himself to be patient. “And I fear our first encounter didn’t allow me to fully enjoy the sight of your bare body.” He noticed the shudder that coursed through her and the evidence of her desire only excited him more. 

“You want to look at me?” she asked. It broke his heart to hear the slight waver in her voice, that hint of insecurity that he had contributed to. She deserved every reassurance he could give her, for he couldn’t imagine being more aroused than he was right now.

“Oh yes, Pen. I want to look and then I want to take you, if you’ll allow it.”

“I want you so badly,” she whispered. 

Colin was still rubbing her back, but now he ran his hands down to trace every forbidden curve. She squirmed on the bed, rubbing her thighs together to relieve the growing ache. They both longed to join, but there was no rush. They had all night to explore each other and he wished to make the most of it. He leaned over her, placing open-mouthed kisses over her shoulders and down her back. 

“Were you aware that it was the sight of your bare shoulder that undid me, Penelope? You looked so creamy and soft, and I wondered if you were that way everywhere. Especially between these delicious legs.”

Penelope gasped softly at his brazen talk, but she quickly recovered her wits. “And was I?”

Colin traced his tongue slowly down her spine. “You have the sweetest center I can imagine,” he said, and then he was grabbing her bottom to spread her apart. She cried out in arousal and surprise. “Look at you. So wet and perfect.” At her moan, he leaned in and nipped at her bottom experimentally. She wriggled closer to him, and he bit her again, harder this time. 

“Bottom up, wife,” he said firmly. “I want to be able to see everything.”

“Oh Colin, you sound so wicked.” Her voice was shattered and hearing her say his name in such a tone made him feel more like himself, confident and in control of the situation. 

“Gentlemanly behavior has no place here, or so I was told,” he replied with a smirk. She giggled but was distracted from her amusement when he gripped her hips firmly and teased her entrance with his hard length. It was taking all of his self-control not to reach his pleasure immediately at the sight of them touching so intimately.

“Are you ready for me, Penelope?”

“Yes,” she moaned, and he pushed inside, watching for any signs of discomfort. 

His hands were full of her generous backside, squeezing and caressing in turn. He wanted to grip her hips and drive into her without holding back, but he tried to be measured in his thrusts. It wouldn’t do for her to feel uncomfortable when he was trying to win her trust. Over and over again, the realization struck him: Penelope Featherington was writhing beneath him, in the bed they now shared. Only she was Penelope Bridgerton now, and knowing that made him mad with desire. How could he have ever told her he didn’t see her as a woman? 

His hips snapped against her with increased vigor before he remembered himself. The silken grip of her was intoxicating, but that was no excuse. 

“I’m sorry,” he panted. “I’ll be gentle.” He reached down to brush her red hair away from her face, and she looked over her shoulder at him.

“No, it feels good. I like it when you’re forceful.” She pressed her backside against him as he thrust, struggling for purchase on the bed. 

“If you’re certain…” he said, but he was already increasing his pace, and the cries she uttered encouraged him to move even faster, even harder.

He had never known there would be such freedom for passion in the marriage bed. When he had been engaged before, he had assumed relations would be much more polite and distant. But he and Penelope shed all sense of propriety as their bodies collided for the final time and shouts of pleasure crossed their lips as he spent himself on the linens. She was letting him see her in the rawest form and he loved it.

Colin pressed grateful kisses once more over Penelope’s shoulders before helping her to lay back against the pillows. He nestled beside her and pulled her into his arms. 

“My beautiful Penelope. My beautiful wife,” he whispered into her ear. 

She smiled softly at him and traced a finger affectionately over her jaw. “Handsome husband. My perfect Colin.”

Could it be that he loved her? For no one else could have made his heart stop with those words. He wished desperately that he could talk to her about it. Before that disastrous night, their friendship had been so close. He could imagine confiding his fears to her, and hearing her kind voice, so steady and wise, reassuring him that all would be well. That he would be enough. That they would find their way into a marriage and a life filled with love. 

He couldn’t expect that of her now, so he settled for showering her with kisses and tender nudges in the graceful curve of her neck. They lay together contentedly until Penelope sat up to dress. Colin tugged at her hand to stop her.

“Stay with me like this, Pen. I don’t want anything separating us.”

“Nor do I,” she said sweetly, pressing her bare body against him once again.

As they drifted off to sleep, Colin’s last thought was that he hoped she meant it.

Chapter Text

Colin bounded into their private sitting room in his nightclothes and sat down beside Penelope. She made quite a pretty picture tucked up on the settee where she was reading before bed.

“You really are rather good, do you know that?” His face lit up with a smile, and Penelope placed a ribbon in her book so she could focus her attention on her handsome new husband.

“Whatever are you speaking of?” she asked with a little laugh. It was still difficult to believe that they shared this home and could be having such a conversation, completely alone, with no one to interrupt. It felt cozy and warm in a way the Featherington home never had.

“The dinner party tonight. My mother pulled me aside and called you a perfect hostess. Our home even won Anthony’s approval.” Colin impulsively kissed her cheek as she flushed at his praise. After such a scandalous beginning to their marriage, Penelope was quite anxious to prove to the Bridgertons that she would be a worthy member of the family. To know that he approved of her performance during her first time entertaining—it meant everything to her.

“I’m happy to have pleased you,” she said shyly, reaching up to his broad shoulders and wrapping her arms around his neck. 

In her short time as his wife, Penelope found that it was much easier to show Colin her feelings rather than tell him. As long as she didn’t speak words of affection aloud, he couldn’t reject her. Instead, she encouraged his touch whenever possible, for it seemed to make them both happy. She was gradually becoming more comfortable initiating physical contact as well, even craving it when their respective duties kept them apart during the day. 

“You’re so good,” he said, punctuating his words with kisses to her neck and collarbone, “and so sweet,” she gasped as he sucked at her nipple through her nightgown, “and so perfect. What a lovely wife. How shall I reward you?”

“You have a talent for touching me; perhaps that would be a start?” she replied teasingly. It was startling how quickly Colin could lower her defenses, especially with all the time they spent together now.

“I’m talented, am I?” Colin asked, pushing her back onto the settee and raising her nightgown just enough so that he could see her lush thighs. Penelope was learning that while impulsive in some aspects of life, her husband was an exceedingly patient lover. She never felt rushed to reach her pleasure as he seemed to savor every moan, every twist of her body, every expression on her face.

“Indeed, I feel quite fortunate in my choice of husband.”

For a moment, Penelope worried that she was allowing herself to say too much. She meant every word, even as she tried to hold her heart safe. But when she allowed her true feelings to slip out, Colin’s face would light up at her praise, and she could never bring herself to truly regret it.

“We are rather fortunate in our marriage, are we not? I only have one complaint.” He ran his hands possessively over her thighs, pinching them playfully where they were at their fullest. “Why must your luscious body always be hidden beneath your gowns? It is rather unfair that I cannot see you whenever I wish.”

Penelope watched as he teased and nipped at her hips, that full mouth she had always admired so lavishing her with attention as her arousal grew. She moaned as he worked his way across every roll and curve of her inner thighs. But he wasn’t stopping, and she began to worry about his proximity to the most forbidden place on her body.

She ran her hands through his hair to draw his attention. His dark blue eyes were so warm and filled with desire as he looked up that she almost lost her train of thought.  “I—I’m beginning to feel rather shy.” 

He stroked soothingly at her thighs as he nodded his understanding. “May I try a new way of pleasuring you or would you like me to stop? I’ve recently learned of an intriguing possibility.”

It was the sweet confidence on his face that made her agree. He had only brought her joy in the marriage bed, and she felt curious despite her misgivings. It was strange how a part of her trusted him so implicitly, knowing that he would never harm her deliberately, while that insecure corner of her heart urged her to remain guarded. 

At her softly spoken, “Yes, you may try it,” he placed a tentative kiss between her legs and she gasped at the exquisite sensation. It was all the more enticing due to his restraint—the way that he treated her body like the most precious treasure he could imagine.

“Are you well?” he asked, looking up from between her thighs, and she felt a fresh rush of desire at the sight. He was all mussed hair and swollen lips, and the view was absolutely sinful.

“Yes,” she managed to say. “More, please.”

He smirked and lowered his mouth to her more intently than before. His kisses were slow and gentle, almost delicate as he explored her. She threaded her fingers through his hair, and enjoyed the vibration of his moans against her as she touched him. Her eyes slid shut, and she lost herself in a wave of love for her husband, stroking his hair and pressing him closer. 

“Tell me what you like, dear Pen,” he urged. 

Penelope guided him to the sensitive nub that brought her the most pleasure. “I wonder… would you be able to…?” She trailed off, feeling suddenly too bashful to continue.

“What do you want? Whisper it if you must.” 

She closed her eyes and murmured, “Would you suck on me as you do my breasts?” Her breath caught as she awaited his reaction, hardly believing she had been so bold. What would he think of her for wanting such a thing?

"Oh, Pen,” he groaned, and then he drew her into his mouth, tenderly applying pressure as her moans grew louder. There was something so heated about his stare as he attached himself to her and quietly brought her to the height of pleasure. He never wavered, as she began to cry out, grasping her plump bottom and drawing her closer to his mouth. It was his fingers, digging into her possessively, holding her steady in the most intimate of connections, that finally caused her to break. He pressed soft kisses against her thighs and over her stomach in the aftershocks, and she felt so overcome with love for him that she wondered if she would begin weeping. 

“Sweet husband,” she said in a choked voice, pulling him on top of her.

“I’ll crush you,” he protested, but his look was soft as he took in the emotions on her face.

“Nonsense. I like having you close to me,” she replied, running her hands up and down his back as he rested his head between her breasts. Even after only a fortnight of marriage, she noticed that he gravitated there, especially if he was tired or wished for comfort. She was beginning to grow tired too, the exertion of her release relaxing her completely.

His arms tightened around her. “You do?”

She yawned delicately. “I always have. Surely you must have noticed.” Her eyes were drifting shut now, and she didn’t see the startled look in Colin’s eyes.

“We must get you to bed. My attentions have kept you up after an already long day,” he said, rolling off of her with a sigh. 

She expected him to extend his hand to help her up, but instead he scooped her into his arms as if she weighed no more than a doll and carried her into their adjoining bedchamber. It was rather wonderful to feel so safe in his arms, tucked close and inhaling his familiar scent. 

When he tenderly tucked her into bed as had become his habit, she asked, “What of your pleasure? I must attend to you.”

He kissed her forehead. “Shhh. I will be well, although perhaps I can impose on you in the morning?” 

Penelope smiled at him as she settled on her side, her hands tucked under her head sweetly. “It would be my pleasure. You really are rather good yourself.”

“I’m glad to hear you think so,” said Colin with one of his beaming smiles. 

Penelope dozed as he turned down the lamps and blew out the candles. She felt vaguely pleased when he nestled in beside her, as close as she had ever desired.

______

Penelope made good on her promise the next morning and was now happy in the knowledge that her husband was satiated as well. He emerged from his dressing room shortly after her breakfast had been brought up on a tray. At first it was strange to eat in the sitting room in nothing but her dressing gown, but after the first few days she could relax and enjoy the privileges of being a married lady out from under her mother’s scrutiny.

“Good morning, Pen.” 

“I believe we already greeted one another this morning,” she said with a secretive smile. Colin’s eyes flashed with the memory of waking to her sinful mouth kissing his chest and then moving lower, much lower, as he groaned in approval.

In response to her impertinence, he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her neck, in that newly discovered spot that always caused her to shiver. Colin sat beside her at the little table in the corner, snatching a piece of toast off her plate and taking a large bite as she frowned at him in mock disapproval. He scooted his chair closer to hers so that he could rest his hand on her knee while he ate. 

“Shall I call for another tray?” Penelope asked, fixing him a cup of tea. 

“Yes, I prefer having breakfast with you in our rooms,” he said, accepting the teacup with a kiss to her cheek. He leaned back contentedly. “Married life suits me. Bridgerton House was too loud, living here alone was too quiet, but sharing a home with you is ideal.”

Penelope shifted away from the hand stroking her thigh and stood to ring for his breakfast. When she returned, she focused on finishing her meal as quickly as she could while remaining ladylike. There was a sudden tension in the air that Colin must have noticed, for he appeared baffled. 

“What did I say?” Colin asked when she quickly rose from the table with an unfinished plate. “We’ve been having such a pleasant morning.”

“Nothing is amiss; your words are as charming as ever,” Penelope replied softly. 

She watched as comprehension dawned and Colin’s smile disappeared, along with his cheerful spirit. He nodded briskly and turned back to his breakfast without another word, allowing Penelope to enter their bedchamber and be attended to by her maid.  

Penelope tried to settle the rolling sensation in her stomach as she was dressed and coiffed for the day. When she allowed herself to stop thinking and simply enjoy Colin’s presence, their marriage was so lovely. He was kind, a wonderful conversationalist, and her heart skipped a beat whenever they touched. When that hint of mischief crept into his eyes, she silently prepared herself to think quickly so she could return his banter. But at moments like these, her insecurities crept in, especially the fear of  that crushing sense of abandonment. It felt impossible to completely leave her concerns behind when she was falling deeper in love every day. She needed to create distance or she would be completely vulnerable to him.

She continued her preparations, still uneasy but happy to be leaving the house soon. Perhaps her promenade with Eloise would clear her mind and settle her emotions. She was choosing a parasol when her husband entered, having finished his breakfast. 

“Mrs. Bridgerton, a moment of your time?” he asked. She was accustomed to their formality whenever one of the servants was around, but usually he had an impish smile to pair with it that she knew was just for her. Today he only looked stern. She nodded discreetly to dismiss her maid and turned to face him.

“Pen,” he implored, tilting her chin up at him gently with his finger. “I am not saying such things to flatter you. I am truly happy to be married. I know you cannot believe me yet, and I accept that. But I am your friend and your husband.” The blue of Colin’s eyes was dark and earnest.

“I’m sorry for my reaction,” she said. “I feel—” She cut herself off, remembering that she had vowed to protect herself from his charms. 

“I want to understand. Please continue.” He stroked her cheek softly and she was lost again.

“Exposed,” she breathed. “I feel exposed when you say such things.”

“I’m your husband. Should I not share my joy with you?” 

“Of course I want you to be happy. But I musn't become too comfortable. It wouldn’t be wise.”

“Your comfort means everything to me. I promised that I would always look after you and I will. Let yourself be easy.” He gazed at her sweetly, but it did nothing to soothe her. He was so dangerous with his words, as smooth and sweet as honey.

“I’m capable of looking after myself. I will not rely upon you for that.” 

She smiled at him to soften the blow, and he forced a smile back. She could see his heart was not in it, and not for the first time, she cursed herself for knowing so intimately every one of his facial expressions. She had no wish to cause him pain, but nor did she want to live in a fantasy world where she trusted him to be constant. 

As much as Penelope liked to think of herself as disciplined and strong, she realized nothing caused her resolve to falter more than seeing Colin unhappy. For the rest of the morning, she could only think of their conversation with regret. She thought of his expression when she was speaking to the housekeeper about the menus. How could she not as she recited his favorites and gave instructions for them to be served regularly in the household? She thought of him again as she met Eloise for a promenade and was reminded that his hair looked exactly like her best friend’s glossy chestnut locks. By the time she arrived home, she yearned to comfort him. It was too much to bear to know that she was the cause of his low spirits, so she asked Dunwoody his whereabouts as soon as she arrived home.

“Husband, could I speak to you?” Penelope stood in the doorway of his study. How he adored hearing her sweet voice, and even more so when she sought him out. Especially after the sudden tension of the morning, when he was reminded that all was not yet resolved between them.

“Of course, come in.”  

She came and sat in the chair he indicated across from him. Penelope took in the state of Colin’s desk. He had been writing, that much was apparent, the inkwell and quill having been hastily set aside. When he saw her looking at his work, he quickly pushed aside a leatherbound book as though he hoped she wouldn’t notice it. 

“May I ask what you’re writing?” She was intrigued and momentarily forgot her purpose in coming to see him.

She paused at another prick of her conscience. He was writing. This would be the perfect opportunity to tell him that she was a writer too. To tell him about Whistledown. Her stomach clenched at the thought. Why must everything between them be so complicated? 

“Nothing of note. Only some musings on my tour,” he replied. While he was trying to appear casual, Penelope could see he was actually quite nervous. She could understand that sense of vulnerability as a writer.

“I’m sure they’re lovely. I always enjoyed your letters.”

“Did you? You didn't respond to any I sent after last season.” His voice wasn’t petulant, or offended, but it was hurt. She knew then that her instincts had been right to seek him out. It was selfish to expect his one-sided reassurance when he didn’t seem certain either—about his place in the world, about her. She had to offer something in return. 

“It was wrong of me not to write back. Not to speak to you when you arrived home,” she said softly. “You deserved better from your friend.”

He sighed, and the kindness in his eyes, the understanding, reminded her of why she loved him so dearly. “Let’s not dwell on the past. What is it you came to speak to me about?”

Penelope hesitated and briefly closed her eyes. She promised Colin that she would try her best to be the wife he needed, and she meant it. So what did he need? She had an idea, and while it frightened her to take such a risk, Colin’s happiness was worth it. 

“I’m feeling rather restless today. I can’t settle to anything,” she said and smiled coyly at him. 

Colin raised his eyebrows. It was unlike her to complain of boredom, or really to complain about anything, but he wanted her to come to him with all her worries.

“How can I help?”

She stood and walked around his desk, settling on his lap.

“I believe I need my husband,” Penelope whispered. “Then perhaps I will be able to concentrate.” She stroked his jaw tenderly, hoping he would see that she wanted to apologize, that he mattered to her, that she was trying to be open to him in the only way that she knew how.

“You need me?” Colin asked, and when she pressed her palm just over his heart, she could feel it thudding rapidly.

“I do.” She forced herself to meet his eyes. “I need my husband,” she repeated. 

Colin cupped her face with his hands, and when he leaned in, Penelope poured everything she could into kissing him. Usually she allowed her husband to take control, but this time she wanted him to know she was fully present. She began working at the knot in his cravat, pressing kisses against his neck as it was exposed. He groaned when she nipped at his ear.  

And then, suddenly, she was on her back, lying face up on the desk where he had cleared a space earlier. Colin hovered above her, that smug look that she adored resting comfortably on his face as he licked his lower lip.

She pulled up her skirts inch by inch, watching his eyes darken as she revealed the tops of her stockings and then her womanhood. 

“Take me.”

He rubbed her thighs thoughtfully, never reaching between her legs to stroke her but using his warm hands on her sensitive skin to stoke her ache. “Are you really ready for me so soon?”

Penelope wasn’t sure where the courage came from, but she knew she wouldn’t feel at peace until Colin was truly happy again. “Your wife always wants you,” she said softly. 

His eyes lit up, and she knew it was exactly the right thing to say. Before she could react, Colin had dropped his breeches and pushed into her with more force than she knew he was capable of. They let out simultaneous cries of pleasure as he began to thrust in and out steadily. He hooked his arms under her thighs to spread her. Penelope would never tire of seeing him this way. He was so handsome as he made love to her, and she always cherished that moment when the tenderness in his eyes shifted into wild abandon as he pursued their mutual peak. 

The desk was a mess when they finished, and Penelope laughed at the sight as she pushed down her skirts and sat up. Colin collapsed into his desk chair and she hopped down with another giggle. She came behind him to wrap her arms around his broad shoulders, kissing the top of his head and then nuzzling her face against his cheek. “I had better prepare myself for the ball this evening. I feel much more settled now.”

“Pay me a visit here any time you feel similarly restless,” he said with raised eyebrows as she went toward the door. 

“You can be certain that I will.” Penelope winked and was delighted that his eyes crinkled at the corners when she did. Her heart felt lighter than it had since breakfast. It brought her such joy when Colin was his usual cheerful self. As she prepared for their evening engagement, her mind was once more fixed on her husband, but this time much more pleasant recollections filled her thoughts.

They walked in the door later that evening, still laughing from their conversation in the carriage home. Penelope hadn’t expected married life to be so companionable, but social engagements were already much more pleasant with Colin by her side. She was still finding her footing in balancing her column with her new role, but she was sure his witty observations would be invaluable. 

Dunwoody greeted them, and then they made their way upstairs, Penelope leaning on Colin’s arm. Her feet hurt, as her new husband had insisted on claiming almost every dance.

“This is our first ball as a married couple. It’s my only chance to act so brazenly, and I plan to take advantage of it.” Such a tender whisper in her ear was too touching to ignore, and she had allowed it, ignoring the disapproving stares and trying to avoid the knowing eyes of her new mother-in-law. 

“What I wouldn’t give for something real to eat. The food at balls never satisfies me,” Colin grumbled as he joined her in the bedchamber after they had both been prepared for sleep.

“That’s easily solved,” Penelope said, rising from the bed and putting on her dressing gown.

“I’ll be fine, Pen; it's late and I don’t wish to wake any of the servants.”

She turned to him with a grin. “I don’t intend to. Let’s sneak down to the kitchen. I know for certain that there is some of your favorite cake leftover from tea.”

“You told me that it had all been served!”

Penelope giggled. “It was a necessary falsehood, for I knew you would wish for a piece tomorrow as well, and I wanted to surprise you.” 

Colin was out of bed now, tying the sash on his own robe. “You sneaky little vixen. Already managing your husband as though you have years of experience.” 

“I do have years of experience with your appetite. Have you forgotten?” she laughed. She grabbed his hand to pull him out of the room and down the stairs, but he caught her around the waist and pressed a kiss to her neck before she could. 

“So you were noticing me, little wife? Were you aware I noticed you too?” The gravely tone of his voice sent a shiver through her. 

“Did you?” His charm was always her undoing, his confidence making her weak at the knees. And she got such flutters in her stomach when he spoke admiringly of her. 

“It was impossible not to, even when I tried. Your mind is too bright and your wit too sharp and your red hair too lovely to ignore.” Penelope turned her head to kiss him, and they smiled at one another blissfully. Then her brows furrowed and she wondered if it would be too indelicate to ask—

“What are you thinking of?” Colin asked, noticing the thoughtful look on her face.

“I only wonder—why did you try not to notice me? What was so lacking?” Her eyes weren’t accusatory or angry, but Colin could see that she was trying to make sense of it all.

“No—Penelope, you misunderstand. There was nothing lacking in you. Nothing.”

“But you said you did not see me as a woman. I must be missing something you thought essential in a wife. And now I am your wife and I cannot help but worry…”

“Penelope, come sit with me for a moment.” He walked to the bed and held out his arms to her, making it clear that she was expected to climb into his lap. When she was safely wrapped up in his arms, he continued. “You know how confused I was at that time from my letters. I didn’t want to see you as a woman because I felt ill equipped to examine any romantic feelings I had toward you.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand. I know you don’t see me romantically…”

“Penelope.” Colin’s tone was firm now, but there was such tenderness in it too. “I do have romantic feelings for you. Not because you are my wife, which I somehow know will be your next objection, but because you are my Pen.”

She blinked at him, trying to absorb such a declaration. “I am your Pen?” she repeated in confusion, continuing to search his face for clues.

“You are my Pen,” he said, resolved and steady. “You are my dear friend, but I also adore you. I feel nervous when I’m around you, but only because your opinion matters so greatly to me. When we make love, my heart is so full I can hardly bear it. It’s all because you are my Pen.”

Penelope ducked her head shyly, but Colin chased her by pressing kisses to the red hair he loved so much. “If I were a more honorable man, I would be courting you properly now. But somehow, I’m glad I wasn't, for I get to hold you like this, in our home, and know that you are mine.”

Hearing such warm sentiments from the man she loved was almost too much, and Penelope burrowed deeper into his arms. “I am your Pen,” she whispered in his ear.

Colin embraced her tightly and they sat together in silence until his stomach rumbled and Penelope encouraged him to attend to their original purpose. They held hands as they walked down the stairs, Colin holding a single candle for light. Penelope stubbed her toe against an end table in the hallway, causing her to curse in a most unladylike fashion. Once Colin recovered from his shock, they both burst into a fit of giggles, before shushing one another so they wouldn’t wake the servants.

Now they were standing in the kitchen taking bites from the same slice of cake. Penelope could tell Colin was restraining himself for her benefit, as he usually ate rather quickly.

“None of my siblings would believe it if they knew I was sharing the last slice of cake with you. You can’t imagine how many scuffles I had with my brothers over food growing up,” Colin commented. “Perhaps marriage does truly change a gentleman.”

Penelope laughed. “Your secret is safe with me, husband.” 

Suddenly, her stomach turned at the thought of secrets. She had a column to write tonight, after all, and she fully intended to do so without her husband being aware of it. But she loved this warm feeling between them, the playfulness and fun. It felt like them, but she reminded herself that she needed to be honest with him if they were to truly trust one another.

“Colin, may I tell you a secret?” she asked, taking a deep breath. “I’m concerned it's something you won’t approve of.”

“What is it, Pen?” he said, laying down his fork and giving her his full attention. “You can tell me anything.”

“I like to write.” She hardly knew what she was saying, she was so nervous. He reached for her hand, trembling on the table, and stroked the back reassuringly.

“Penelope, I know. You’re a lovely writer. Why wouldn’t I approve?”

“My secret concerns my writing,” she said, but now her breath was quickening and her heart was racing out of control. 

“What? Penelope, are you well?” Colin’s eyes grew concerned, and he wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her steady. “Look into my eyes. I’m not angry or upset. Don’t fret.” 

He pulled her tightly into his arms and Penelope tried to focus. “I need to tell you all of it.”

“You can. You will. But you’re overwrought. I can feel you shaking.” 

“I don’t want you to hate me,” she whispered. “You must already regret marrying me, but you’ve been so kind and—” 

“I regret nothing of the sort and you know that, Penelope; I’m sure you do. I want to hear more of your secret because I care for you, but not now.”

Sheer relief and dread at further delay warred within her. “Aren’t you curious?” she asked in half-hearted protest.

“Of course! But I hate seeing you this way. We must attend to you first, and then we can discuss it on a full night of rest.”

Penelope watched that now familiar expression take over Colin’s face, the determined one that signaled he wanted to care for her and would allow no one to stop him. Despite her anxiety, she was filled with warmth. He was such an attentive husband, always concerned for her comfort. She couldn’t muster further resistance when all she wanted to do was melt into him and forget about her cares. 

Penelope didn’t want to think about Lady Whistledown, Marina, Eloise, or any of her other mistakes. The secrets, the betrayals, the loneliness, and the misplaced pride. It made her sick to think of Colin’s reaction, the way that his affection would disappear without a trace, all his sweet hopefulness for their union gone forever. How could she bear it when she finally had a home with him? 

So instead she kissed him, fervently, assuredly. Soon they were both breathless with passion and he was tugging her upstairs, surely planning to worship her yet again with his body. Perhaps it would help her forget, if only for a little while, the fragility of it all.

“Husband, you’re so good. You feel so good and you are so good,” she murmured, as he pulled her along. His urgency would have made her smile if her mind was more at ease, her conscience less guilty.

Colin gave a pleased little smile and then led her into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Chapter Text

Penelope tossed her book aside with a sigh. While she loved having her own home, it could be rather dull at times to while away the visiting hours with little company. There had been few callers today and none of them particularly interesting. Most had never paid her any mind before but simply wished to satisfy their curiosity about Colin Bridgerton’s mousy wallflower of a bride. 

The morning had passed in bed with only a brief mention of Penelope’s secret, and he reassured her again that she need not tell him before she was ready. He seemed rather more interested in discovering new pleasures than pressing her for more information. 

Penelope felt torn between pulling him closer by telling him everything and pushing him away. For what felt like the thousandth time, she considered all the factors. She trusted him more than anyone, and yet he had broken her faith in him. She knew him to be a kind man, and yet his words the night of the ball were so thoughtlessly cruel. It was impossible to completely banish the memory, and it made their relationship feel precarious, with moments of perfect tenderness dotting the tension of their married life. 

Thinking of Colin always made her yearn to see him, and she decided to gratify herself by seeking him out. When they first married, she felt hesitant to do so, but after their interlude in his study, she was reassured that he enjoyed her company during the day, even if she interrupted his business. She decided to bring along her embroidery in case he invited her to stay.

Colin’s beaming smile assured her that she was welcome, so after greeting him with a kiss that lasted slightly too long to be proper, she settled herself in the chair across from him, tucking her feet beneath her as she worked. Colin was attending to correspondence, but he seemed to pause rather often to gaze at her. When Penelope caught him for the third time and lifted her eyebrows at him, the tips of his ears reddened adorably as a sheepish smile flitted across his face. 

She continued stitching, but her heart raced. Colin had confessed he was growing fond of her but she struggled with the notion. Did he finally see her as a woman? While the thought caused her belly to flutter with joy, it was also frightening. For her husband didn’t know about Lady Whistledown, and if she told him, she was certain that his budding affection would wither away immediately. She prided herself on her clever mind, but she couldn’t seem to find a way out of this predicament. And she needed to, quickly, before it all fell apart.

______

At dinner that evening, Colin hesitantly cleared his throat. He cursed the nerves that had been chasing him since they began sharing a home. Every time she walked into the room, he turned into an eager schoolboy, wondering how best to please her. What witticism would make her laugh? What soft touch would bring that fleeting warmth to her eyes? He supposed that was what came from having romantic feelings for someone who was so important to him. His courtship with Marina had been pleasant but never thrilling. Never this sense that his stomach would drop if she disapproved of him or that he would go soaring if she looked at him with sweet adoration. The suspense was worse at moments like these when he had little notion of how his wife would react. When he told her the news, would she think him eager to escape her presence? Or worse, would she be pleased by his upcoming absence? 

“Yes, husband?” she asked, laying down her fork so he had her full attention.

“Pen, I received a letter today. Do you recall me mentioning Murray, my chum from Oxford?”

“Ah yes. He’s been traveling, has he not?” 

“Yes, and he wrote to tell me he’s taking a bride. He asked if I would be willing to make the journey to Scotland for their wedding. I would need to leave in a fortnight, however, and I wanted your opinion on the matter.”

To his disappointment, Penelope’s eyes lit up. So she was eager for him to depart. It stung.

“Scotland! Would you bring me with you?”

The hopeful smile on her face and her dancing eyes were everything he could want. His stomach was fluttering—she wanted to come with him! They would have a lovely time together; there was no doubt in his mind. 

“I won’t be a bother. I can entertain myself.” 

With those innocent words, Colin’s elation disappeared. So she didn’t desire his company as he did hers. She only longed for the excitement of travel.

“Pen, you could never be a bother,” he said firmly. “Had I known you wanted to travel, I would have arranged a honeymoon trip.”

“I don’t wish to inconvenience you, although I would dearly love to see Scotland. Once we arrive, we can go our separate ways, and you can have as much time with your friend as you need.”

Ah, now he understood. His wife had a tendency to retreat if she worried she was asking for too much or revealing herself too fully. It was why he chose not to press her too forcefully about her secret. Gentle coaxing, reassurance, encouragement—that was the way to Penelope’s heart. It was how he gained her trust and friendship in the first place, and it was how he planned to win her over again. He had time and close proximity on his side, so he could afford to be patient.

“Pen, you misunderstand,” he replied sweetly. “Yours is my favorite company. No one could be as pleasant a companion as you.”

She flushed at his compliments and smiled shyly. “I’m already your wife. You need not charm me.”

“The fact that you are my beautiful wife is all the more reason for me to charm you,” he said softly. He rose from the table, their meal completed, and offered his arm so that they could spend the rest of the night in the drawing room together. He enjoyed social events, but his favorite evenings were the cozy ones he spent with only his wife for company.

Colin dismissed the servants and then embraced her so swiftly that she let out a little squeak of surprise. His wife seemed to enjoy his physical affection, so he took every advantage of it, knowing he would be rewarded with a sweet smile and her full attention. Just as he hoped, she clung to him, and he was able to whisper several reassurances into her hair, explaining how much he looked forward to traveling with her. When they moved to sit down, he was pleased when she took the place beside him, tucking her slippered feet under her and leaning into his shoulder. 

Penelope peppered him with questions about Scotland, and he answered as best he could. They laughed and chatted as they used to, and Colin delighted in her curiosity and enthusiasm. Eventually, she lay with her head in his lap, looking up at him as he told stories about his tours and speculated on what they might see and eat and experience on their trip together. 

Penelope was watching him wonderstruck, and that familiar warm glow of being seen by her filled him with affection. Sometimes it suddenly struck him that they were married, and the gratitude would wash over him yet again. Especially when his wife grabbed his free hand and clasped it against her chest, pressing an occasional kiss against it. Colin stroked her hair back from her face with the other hand in response, and she gave a little sigh.

“I’m glad I can accompany you. It would be lonely here without you,” Penelope murmured.

“I fear Dunwoody would be most offended if he heard that sentiment expressed. I believe he fancies himself an excellent conversationalist,” Colin teased, even as his heart swelled.

Penelope poked at his belly as she giggled. “Be serious! I would miss you, especially at this time of night when we’re usually together.”

“It's my favorite time of day…well, except when we retire to our bed.” Penelope laughed joyously, even as she blushed, and Colin’s teasing smirk softened. “ You see? I told you that all would be well when we married, did I not?”

“Yes, yes, you are ever wise and all knowing. How fortunate that I have you to guide me.” 

Her tone was light hearted but Colin could see the true happiness in her eyes and he knew it was reflected in his. Despite the bumps along the way, he was on his way to being truly and deeply in love with his wife. And the light on her face gave him reason to hope that Penelope was beginning to experience tender feelings for him in return.

______

A week later, she was at her desk in the sitting room when Colin finally arrived home from White’s. Penelope learned of something interesting at a garden party earlier in the day—a love triangle between three prominent members of the ton, one of whom was already married. It was exactly the type of gossip Lady Whistledown was known for, and she felt the need to redeem herself after two lackluster columns recently. She would never blame Colin for her slump, but he was so deliciously distracting that she was drawn to him at social events rather than her work. She had been considering the perfect phrase to describe the argument she had overheard, when she heard him entering the bedchamber. Penelope hurriedly set her draft in a drawer as he flopped onto the settee with a groan.

“You’re up rather late, Pen. I would’ve thought you would be asleep by now.”

Colin forced a smile, and his words were kind, but Penelope could sense that something was troubling him. She tidied her desk and then came over to inspect him. He sounded so weary, but she could see he hadn’t been drinking. His eyes looked stormy rather than their usual guileless blue, and she immediately felt concerned. 

“I find it difficult to settle until you’re home, so I thought I would work on my writing.” 

Should she tell him now? She must, sooner or later, and perhaps it was best if it was sooner. She didn’t wish for the secret to hang over them on their trip. But then again, would he still wish for her company if he knew? It would change everything about their relationship, and her heart broke at the thought. And he looked so distressed; it wouldn’t be right to add to his troubles at the moment.

She sat beside him, wondering if he would reach for her or if he wanted space. “How was White’s?”

Colin swallowed harshly, shaking his head, and Penelope decided not to allow pride or fear to get in the way of her wifely duties. Her beloved wasn’t himself; she could see it in the hunch of his shoulders and the hurt look in his eyes. Even if nothing else, she believed in his need for her friendship in times of worry. She reached for his hand and kissed it, pressing their clasped hands to her cheek. 

“Why don’t you ready yourself for bed and join me there? Or would you rather have a cup of tea? I can call for some.”

He bestowed such a grateful smile upon her that she felt she would have done anything for him at that moment. “I’ll retire with you.”

While Colin spoke with his valet in his dressing room, Penelope debated with herself. She had a sense of what would set her husband at ease, but it was outside the bounds of propriety. What if she was wrong? What if she didn’t know him as well as she thought she did? But then she remembered her promise to him, that she would try to be the best wife she could. She must follow her instincts and trust that Colin would be kind even if she made a mistake. Before she could doubt herself further, she pulled off her nightdress and folded it before slipping beneath the covers in the nude.

Penelope’s stomach flipped when Colin entered the room and blew out his candle. He slid into bed and began to settle, presumably thinking she had fallen asleep. Her hand inched across the smooth linen toward his, light caresses alerting him to her wakeful state, and when he grasped on, she finally found her voice.

“Come to me, Colin.” She tugged lightly at his hand and then reached for him so he could nestle against her shoulder with her arm around him. He obeyed readily and wrapped his arm around her waist, squeezing her side affectionately. Then his body jolted in surprise— 

“Pen!” he exclaimed. Her bare skin brushed against his everywhere he touched. And he was certainly roaming his hands everywhere, now that he knew he would be rewarded with such a fine sensation.

Although the room was dark, Penelope felt her flaming cheeks must be visible, so great was her embarrassment at his shock. Why hadn’t she worn her nightgown? He must think her the most shameless woman who ever graced the Ton.

“I’m sorry, I only thought—” she trailed off miserably, unsure of how to explain. She felt as small and insignificant as she had whenever a gentleman overlooked her at the edges of a ballroom. She began berating herself for thinking that he would be pleased, that he enjoyed her body...

“I’m not upset, Penelope, only surprised. Delighted, but surprised,” he said with that teasing lilt in his voice she had never been able to resist. “Tell me what you were thinking,” he coaxed, much more gently now.

Penelope could barely whisper, so great was her humiliation, but she decided to try. “You seem troubled, and I’ve noticed that my body brings you comfort. I only wanted to help.”

“By allowing me to touch you?”

When she nodded, all the tension left him and he molded his body to hers. “Oh Pen, how did you know?” he asked, a hint of wonder there that gave Penelope some of her confidence back. 

“I know you ,” she said simply. 

Colin’s smile against her shoulder eased her nerves further. “I recall my wife saying that we don’t know one another,” he teased. “Perhaps I should have been worshiping your body throughout our friendship so you were certain of exactly how well we know one another.”

“Impertinent man,” Penelope huffed. 

Colin sat up to remove his own nightclothes before lying beside her again. They were equally exposed now. Penelope brought his hand to her breast and encouraged him closer. He let out a sigh of contentment as he rested his head on her soft chest. 

“Now, tell me what’s troubling you.”

She could feel him caressing her fullness as he gathered his thoughts. The intimacy of it was something she felt in no other relationship: knowing he desired her, yet relied on her steadiness and calm demeanor as well. She wondered idly if anyone knew her as well as her husband, especially with all the time they spent together now. Yet it still gave her butterflies as he stroked the silky sides of her breasts and occasionally kissed a pert nipple. 

“My brothers were at the club, and I told them of our journey to Scotland. Anthony doesn’t approve and told me so in the strongest terms.” 

“Why ever not? Murray is your best friend.” 

“He believes I’m abandoning my responsibilities. I’ve had difficulty securing a larger townhouse for us, and in his opinion, I should stay here until I’m successful.” Colin paused, and his voice was full of emotion when he continued, “He said that I must not fail you again.”

“That is utter nonsense!” Penelope tightened her arms around him protectively. “We’re perfectly content here, and you are the head of this household. If you think it wise for us to travel, then that is what we shall do.” 

“He makes a good point about my failures as a husband.” Colin buried his face between her breasts, rubbing his cheeks against their soft curves. Penelope stroked through his hair, pressing him gently closer so he would know he was welcome. 

“Never say that,” she murmured soothingly. “Does he understand how kind and attentive you are? How patient? He should be proud of the husband you are to me.”

Colin’s eager-to-please look broke her heart when he lifted his head so their eyes could meet. He was so handsome, lying in their bed, his hands never fully losing contact with her breasts. “Do you mean that, Penelope? Truly?”

She didn’t know how to put into words what she felt for him; nor was she sure it would be wise to do so. Perhaps the softness in her eyes betrayed her, but it was impossible not to fall headlong into this feeling when they were alone like this, confiding in one another and lying together as though they were one person. I love you, I love you, I love you. How could she explain how deeply she felt for him, how completely she was his? How much she adored being his wife?

Sometimes Penelope woke in the night with a feeling of panic in her chest, worried that it would all disappear in a moment. She would look over at Colin, his features hidden by the shadows of the night, and pray that they would be this close forever. What would it be like if he knew how important he was to her? But the fear remained, piercing her with thoughts of him denying her in front of the ton, laughing at her tender feelings for him. If she told him she loved him, it would be even more crushing if he distanced himself from her. Or worse, if he pretended to return her feelings but then told others he felt differently. Even so, she wanted to do everything she could to ease his burdens.

“I’ll prove it to you. Sit up against the bed.” 

Colin reluctantly moved from his comfortable spot resting on her bosom and watched as she straddled his lap. His hands found her hips and squeezed before grabbing hold of her bottom in that possessive way that always brought on a deep ache in her belly. She looked directly into his eyes to ensure his full attention.

“This is for you. Only you.” She guided her nipple into his mouth so that he could suck as he always loved to do, playing with the short hairs on the back of his neck as she arched into him. He hummed appreciatively, pulling her even closer.  “There, you see? So attentive and good,” she said breathily. “My husband.”

He was still latched on to her breast and she felt powerful watching his eyes widen at her praise. He was entirely hers to adore, and she wanted him to believe in the deepest places that he was a fine husband, because it was true. Next, she bit her lip and guided his hand to her center. 

“Do you feel what you do to me? So tender and aching whenever you’re near. So wet when you touch me. You always know exactly what I long for.” She pressed a kiss just below his ear and spoke quietly to him. “Sometimes you touch me so gently and sweetly, I feel I could cry.” She traced a trail of kisses down his neck and then bit into the curve where it met his shoulder. “And other times you take me forcefully to remind me that I am your wife and no one else’s. You really are a man, aren’t you?” 

Colin groaned at the husky tone of her voice, at how slick she was, and the way she pressed closer when he slid his fingers inside her. 

“Penelope, how can I deserve you? Speaking to me so, touching me like this. You’re—” He halted when she pressed a finger to his lips and shook her head.

“Hush, Colin. This is about you, darling. About what an exceptional husband you are. I haven’t finished yet.”

Penelope had never spoken so boldly to him before, but she had listened and learned whenever he spoke to her in bed. It always sharpened her pleasure when he cursed in bed or daringly spoke of how desirable he found her. Her observations of what he might like to hear were being proven correct—her sweet husband only wanted to hear that he was enough. That she admired him. Nothing could be easier since she meant every word. She reached down to stroke his member, feeling it stiffen even further as she put her newfound skills in the bedroom to use. 

“And here? How could you ever be a disappointment to me with this?” He watched her heatedly as she confidently grasped him, then lined him up with her center, slowly sinking down with a moan until he was completely sheathed within her. 

“What a husband,” she panted as she began to thrum against him, raising and lowering herself eagerly. Colin watched her in awe, thrusting up into her as he gripped her hips tightly. “You fill me so well and you never stop until I’m satisfied.” 

She breathlessly rolled her hips against him, watching as his face tensed with each new plateau he reached. Penelope wanted it to be good for him, the best it had ever been. And as she took him, as deeply as she could, she continued to murmur in his ear.

“No one else may touch me this way.”

“You feel so perfect inside of me.”

“You’re my husband. Mine.” 

At the last, Colin cried out and Penelope lifted herself away, allowing him to release with a last shuddering groan. Colin collapsed with his head nestled closely to her chest, her ample bosom still glistening with the exertion of riding him. She loved the way he stroked her side and occasionally pressed a soft kiss to her breast as he recovered his senses. He was always so tender with her after their intimacies, and such warm affection made her feel hopeful.

“Penelope Bridgerton, that was quite the performance,” he finally said with that familiar teasing lilt to his voice. 

“You ought to be grateful that I carried it out in private,” she teased back. “I have half a mind to invite Anthony to tea tomorrow so that I can repeat all that I said word for word. Or perhaps he needs a demonstration to remind him that his interference isn’t welcome.” 

Penelope huffed in exasperation. As a wife, she couldn't help but feel affronted on her husband’s behalf. He had been so misjudged by one whose opinion mattered so greatly to him, and it wasn’t the first time his family had underestimated him.

“Penelope!” Colin’s shocked voice made her grin.

“What of it? It’s not as though I can scandalize him more than I did when he caught me naked in your bed.” 

Colin burst into surprised laughter and began tickling her. “What a minx! Not a shred of remorse to be found!” 

She giggled and playfully resisted until their eyes met and suddenly passion took over again. She leaned in to kiss him, and he pulled her naked form closer until they were pressed chest to chest. Several minutes were lost as Colin’s hand found its way between her legs before teasing her to the height of pleasure.

“You seem quite offended on my behalf,” Colin said quietly when they had once again settled and he was holding her in his arms.

“You’re my husband and I’ll follow you anywhere,” she replied matter-of-factly. “It’s not Anthony’s place to question your decisions or mine.”

Colin kissed her head affectionately at the display of loyalty. “How fortunate I am in my choice of wife.” He looked at her hesitantly, finally feeling comfortable about bringing up a subject that concerned him. “I confess I was surprised you wished to accompany me because at times you seem to wish for my absence. You’re still writing in hidden places throughout the house, perhaps to avoid me.”

“I—I am somewhat shy about my writing, but I wish to share it with you soon,” Penelope stammered. 

“There’s no need to do so before you’re ready. You could write in my presence and I promise not to pry. I enjoy having you near.”

“Thank you, Colin. I adore your company as well. I always have. It’s true that I’m curious about traveling, but my main motive in joining is that I simply don’t wish to be parted from you.”

“Truly, Pen?” He paused, his eyes downcast. “I know you were reluctant to marry me.”

“We—we have both said things in the past that perhaps we did not fully mean. But we are becoming friends again, are we not?” She smiled at him reassuringly, and he pulled her tightly to his chest.

“I think we are becoming something even dearer—a husband and wife who truly care for one another.”

______

Where could she be?

Colin sat in the dark with his head in his hands, rubbing his temples wearily, when he finally heard the door open. His wife entered, and he immediately felt the greatest sense of relief imaginable. But it quickly shifted to anger when he saw that she was well and appeared to be in no distress. Penelope shut the door behind her and leaned against it, exhaling heavily. She moved toward the lamp beside the bed, lighting it and gasping with shock when she saw him sitting there watching her.

“Colin!”

“Good evening, Mrs. Bridgerton,” he replied evenly. Using her title brought him no joy, but there was a certain element of satisfaction in expressing his displeasure, no matter how indirectly. She was dressed in a blue servant’s uniform he had never seen before, and there was no mistaking the guilty look on her face. “You’re arriving home late.”

“Yes, and you’re home very early,” she replied nervously, although he could see her trying to maintain her composure. She lowered the hood on her baby blue cape and began to untie it as she moved toward her dressing room.  “I thought you would be at your club for several more hours.” 

Colin stood and blocked her way, catching her eyes and holding her in place with his intense stare.

“Apparently so. Do you wish to know why I arrived home so soon?” he asked sternly.

She bit her lip and nodded. 

“I missed my wife and decided I would much rather spend the evening in her company. So imagine my surprise when I returned home to an empty drawing room and a cold bed.”

He had never felt so furious and betrayed. What reasonable explanation could she have? A married woman, deliberately leaving the house as soon as her husband had departed for the evening. Could he have misjudged her so badly that he hadn’t seen the signs? Sweet, innocent Pen , he thought scornfully. He had fancied himself a chivalrous husband, so patient as he waited for her to confide in him. But instead of drawing them closer, he had been exposed as a naive child yet again. 

“Colin, I–” 

“So now you wish to call me Colin? When you’re dressed like this with no explanation, when I’ve been sitting here for hours with no idea where you’ve been or who you were with? Worried out of my mind?” 

“Please, Colin.” She was wringing her hands and he could see tears beginning to form in her eyes, but he refused to be swayed this time. 

“Please, what? Please, Colin, I prefer when you’re a blind fool?” 

Penelope held up her hands placatingly.  “You’re not a fool! I can explain everything.” 

“Then why haven’t you?” he demanded. “You’ve had every opportunity.”

“I’ve wanted to tell you even before the wedding. But I never gathered the courage because I was so afraid of how you would react.” 

“I would think it rather evident that I don’t approve of you taking a lover,” Colin said tightly. How could he have thought things were beginning to improve? When all along, she wanted someone else? Was deceiving him just as Marina had? What was it about him that attracted such duplicitous women, who only wished to use him for his money and his name?

“A lover?” Penelope stared at him in disbelief and Colin hated to see such a false expression of hurt on her face when he knew it was all a lie.

“Yes, Penelope, as much as you may believe me to be one, I am not a fool. Now it makes perfect sense why you didn’t wish to marry me. It’s because of him. You’re writing love letters in secret all around the house, and Dunwoody informed me that you disappear almost every time I go to my club.”

“You asked the servants about me?” Penelope finally found her voice as the humiliation of it washed over her. 

“You’re more concerned about what the servants may think than the fact that your affair has been discovered?” He shook his head in exasperation and then became more businesslike. “The name of your paramour. Now. We will settle this as gentlemen must.”

“Colin, stop this. You are my lover and I have no other. I am your wife!” Penelope reached for his hands but he pulled sharply away. 

“Are you my wife, Penelope, in more than just obligation?”

“I’m your faithful wife. I—I care for you.” Penelope tried again to make contact, caressing his arm where he had twisted away from her. “Why would I turn to someone else? The very idea repulses me. I know my actions appear improper, but allow me to explain.”

“No more lies,” he said firmly. Colin turned back to face Penelope, her gentle touch on his arm and soothing tone softening him in spite of his determination to remain angry. 

She nodded seriously. “Let me call for tea so we can talk.”

Colin allowed himself to be led to the sitting room adjoining their bedchamber. They sat quietly across from one another as they waited for the tea to arrive, Penelope twisting her hands in her lap nervously and sneaking glances at him. Colin’s mind was racing with one potential scenario after another, each more unpleasant than the last. Watching her prepare his tea so lovingly, his sadness finally overtook the righteous indignation that had carried him through their confrontation. All he wanted was this—a sweet domestic life filled with love and companionship. The disappointment that it was an illusion brought tears to his eyes. Their fingers brushed as she handed him the cup, and when their eyes met, he could see she was overcome as well. They sipped in silence for several minutes until Penelope took a deep breath and seemed to summon her courage.

“Before I explain, I have three requests,” she said softly.

“So you believe you’re in a position to make demands?” he asked sarcastically. 

She flinched at the sharp way he laughed, but he couldn’t tell her that he was absolutely sick with uncertainty and trying to cope with it the only way he knew how. If her actions couldn’t be explained by a love affair, and he wasn’t yet entirely convinced that she was telling the truth about that, it must be something equally scandalous for her to behave with such secrecy. 

She shook her head but maintained her gaze. “They aren’t demands. You matter to me, Colin, and our marriage is important to me. I simply want us both to remain calm long enough to discuss it.”

“Very well,” he said, waving his hand at her to proceed.

“First, can I hold your hand while I tell you? Second, I will answer any of your questions, but I ask you not to shout. Third, I would like you to try to remember that I care for you.”

Colin gave a brisk nod, and she came to sit beside him, intertwining their fingers and kissing his hand. Her tenderness took him by surprise, but it gave him some hope that she was trying to reach out to him even during such a difficult conversation. 

“I am Lady Whistledown.”

Colin blinked rapidly. Of all the secrets he imagined, this one never crossed his mind. “Lady Whistledown?”

Penelope spoke more confidently now that the awful first moment of confession was over. “That’s what I’ve been keeping from you. I’ve been writing in secret and delivering the column while you’re out. I wanted to tell you before the wedding but—”

“But you thought it better to hide this from me?” he interrupted furiously. “When all I’ve been doing is trying to prove myself trustworthy?” 

“No, I knew it was wrong, but I was so afraid–” she broke off helplessly, unable or unwilling to justify her actions further.

Realization struck him then of all the ways Penelope had interfered as Lady Whistledown. He released her hands, abruptly standing. 

“Miss Thompson—I—Penelope, how could you?” He had long suspected that Penelope knew of Marina’s pregnancy, but to have it confirmed? To know that she had played such a role in his engagement, without his knowledge or consent? Now he truly felt that he might be sick, and he bent over, placing his hands on his knees and trying to stop the spinning feeling in his head. 

Penelope was behind him in a flash, rubbing his back and speaking in low, soothing tones. “Sit down, Colin. I’ll explain it all, but you look pale. We have time.”

He was torn between a sense of betrayal and warmth at her comforting presence. He allowed her to settle him back in his seat, her arms steady around him, and then that buzzing noise in his ears was growing louder, and he laid his head in her lap for a moment to ease it. Not even when he read of his foolish engagement in Penelope’s infernal column had he felt so confused and shocked. 

His wife was one of the people he felt safest with—a confidant who never judged him. It was devastating to realize that the entire time she had been working behind the scenes to determine his fate and that she didn’t respect him enough to make decisions about his future with all of the pertinent information. He didn’t know how to reconcile her behavior with the person he imagined her to be.

“I’m so sorry, Colin. So sorry. I should have told you, I should have been braver.” She was stroking his hair and he wanted to close his eyes so he couldn’t see how brilliantly blue hers were, beseeching him and filled with tears. 

“Why didn’t you?” he demanded. The shock was receding and he was angry again. Angry at the deception, angry at the public humiliation she caused him, but mostly angry that he still hated to see her in pain. He wanted to give in to his fury, and hurt her as she had hurt him, but he loved her too much for that. 

“Eloise—” Penelope closed her eyes briefly and steeled herself. “She discovered who I was last season. It almost destroyed our friendship. And every time I thought of telling you, all I could think of was seeing this look in your eyes. So disappointed and angry.”

“You clearly didn’t care about that when you were sharing intimate details about my engagement with the entire ton. How could you, Pen?” He sat up now, and while he wanted to storm from the room and slam the door behind him, he also wanted answers.

She looked down shamefully. “It's my biggest regret. I tried to stop it so many other ways—I knew what they were planning and I wanted to tell you but—”

Colin swallowed convulsively. “Who was planning what? Tell me now.”

“My mother and Marina. They planned for Marina to seduce you so that you would have to marry her quickly. I knew about the baby and no one would listen to me... I tried everything, Colin! I didn’t see a right choice. All I knew was that you didn’t deserve it.” 

“You mean I didn’t deserve to be deceived by someone I trusted? To marry someone who doesn’t respect me enough to make informed decisions?” he asked pointedly. 

Her face paled and tears started to spill down her cheeks. Despite the swelling of emotion, he could see she was trying to remain composed. “What I did was worse because I am your friend. I could try to explain my behavior then, or my decision to keep it a secret after we married, but none of my reasons matter, because I still deceived you.”

Colin looked down at their hands, watching her stroke his skin with her thumb, the way their fingertips kissed occasionally as they clung to each other. He had never been so upset with anyone before, but somehow he didn’t want to pull away. For better or worse, the only way out of this mess was together. He sighed, trying to consider the situation from his wife’s perspective. 

“I can see that you did try. And as angry as I am, I understand that you were an innocent debutante and likely didn’t know how to speak to me about such intimate matters.”

“It was still wrong; I know that, Colin. I shouldn’t have separated you when you loved her so.” Penelope met his eyes bravely, and he could see how it pained her to acknowledge it, to speak of it to him, her husband.

His heart clenched and he realized it simply felt wrong to describe what he felt for Marina as love. And as upset as he was with Penelope, he didn’t want her to assume he was pining for another woman. 

“Penelope, that isn’t what pains me about this situation. I realized rather quickly that what I thought was love was simply an infatuation, and wishing to feel like a man making my own decisions. I have no bitterness toward her, for she was simply doing what she felt she must, but I don’t possess tender feelings for Miss Thompson or anything approaching love.” 

He could almost see the relief envelope Penelope’s body, and she managed a teary smile when he leaned forward to kiss her cheek.

“That’s the most dreadful part, can’t you see?” Colin held up their clasped hands, as if emphasizing their connection. “I have tender feelings for you—you’re my wife , Penelope. I was beginning to believe that I’m dear to you. And now, to know that you’ve been keeping this from me—”

“You are dear to me,” she interrupted. “I’ve been a fool—but never doubt that I care for you.”

He let out a breath that he hadn’t known he was holding, and he suddenly felt exhausted. All the worry of arriving home to find her missing combined with his anger over her nonexistent lover, and now these horrible revelations about Whistledown—he was overcome and he needed to rest.

“I should like to retire now, I think,” he said, releasing her hand. 

Penelope blinked in confusion. “Is there not more you wish to know?” 

“There is, but I cannot tolerate any more discussion tonight. I—Penelope, your decisions have hurt me deeply. We will need to continue our conversation if there is to be any trust in this marriage. But for now, I wish to sleep.”

Penelope nodded miserably and followed him to their bedchamber, where they separated to be readied for bed. When they reunited, tension ruled the silence. Colin climbed into bed, rolling over so his back faced her. Penelope lay on her side, staring over at him, as the minutes ticked away. It was so strange not to fall asleep touching each other or sharing some form of affection. She wondered if Colin felt the same way, for his breathing hadn’t deepened. He must be lying awake as well.  

It had been as terrible as she expected to see the disappointment in his eyes when the implications of her column became clear. But the contempt that Eloise had felt never appeared on Colin’s face. He had been angry, yes, but he had also shown her compassion and understanding. He really was so very good, and his reaction to the worst of her betrayals proved it. 

She used to speak to Colin so easily, and her heart ached that they no longer knew how. Touch had become their language, a way to bridge the divide when the pressures of marriage overcame them. So she inched her way toward his side of the bed until she could drape a tentative arm around his waist. 

She held her breath, waiting to see if he would push her away. Instead, he put his hand over hers, holding it close to him. She leaned closer and began to place soft kisses on his bare back. She knew every muscle, the way they strained under her hands when he was on top of her, the way they felt when she wrapped her arms around him when they embraced. She loved each part of him, and she was fighting a losing battle to pretend otherwise. 

When he seemed to accept her touch, she began kneading his shoulders and running her hands soothingly over his back, loosening the tight muscles and calming him with her attentions. Finally, he rolled over to face her, and she leaned her forehead against his. 

“Colin, I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

She pressed her thumb to the furrow between his brows, smoothing it out so he looked more like her joyful Colin. “If you’re having trouble sleeping, come closer. I’m still your wife.” A solid lump formed in her throat as she gestured at her body, fear of rejection so strong she wondered if she would survive it. But she was making a choice to trust him again by offering her love. And she hoped that he would make a choice to trust her by accepting it.

Colin hesitated for only a moment before he burrowed into her chest, bringing his hand up to cup her breast as she pulled him close. She ran her fingers softly through his hair, trying to wordlessly remind him of how much she cared for him. Only a few minutes passed before he was breathing rhythmically, having fallen into a deep sleep, but Penelope remained stubbornly awake despite her best efforts. She stared up at the ceiling, reviewing every moment, every choice that had led her here. Moonlight streamed in the window and she examined the man in her arms. His dark lashes fluttering against his cheeks made him appear younger, and the image perfectly suited how protective she felt toward him.

Their confrontation had finally forced her to accept that Colin had his own insecurities. She had the power to hurt him, and she had, deeply. Now more than ever he needed her love and reassurance. She had known it in a secret place in her heart, that her support mattered to him, that maybe she was the perfect person to bolster his confidence and foster his dreams. But she dismissed that notion over and over again. All so that she wouldn’t be hurt. All so that she didn't have to take a risk. 

He was so precious in her arms, and she was surprised anew by how it could physically hurt to love him this much. She loved him so fiercely, and it terrified her to acknowledge that she was the greatest threat to his happiness if she continued to be so afraid. She wanted to change. She had to change.

She simply didn’t know how.

Chapter Text

Colin groggily reached his arm across the bed, still half asleep but seeking the warm, comforting form of his wife. All he felt was the smooth linen, still slightly heated. A vague sense of dissatisfaction at her absence lingered, and then his stomach lurched as it all came flooding back.

Penelope. 

He opened his eyes and saw that she wasn’t anywhere in the room. Nor could he hear her voice or that of her lady’s maid in the adjoining sitting room. 

Where was Penelope? 

It was entirely too early for a social call, and Penelope only ever breakfasted upstairs. She must be out on Whistledown business. How could she disappear again when she knew how it would affect him? All of her empty talk of caring about him—it was infuriating. The anger and hurt clawed at his insides as he rang for his valet to ready him for the day. 

Colin’s indignation deflated when he was handed an envelope with his name on it. Her familiar looping script informed him that she had awoken early and gone to see Eloise. So she was making an effort to relieve his worries and rebuild his faith in her. Colin gathered that she must be upset and wished for his sister’s comfort. A part of him was glad that she felt unsettled by the tension between them, as it meant he wasn’t alone in caring about their marriage. She needed to understand how serious the breach between them was if they were to repair it. As he dressed, he decided to meet her at his family’s home. Perhaps it would ease their first encounter if others were present.

Fresh air always helped him order his thoughts, so he reflected on the situation as he walked. A good night’s rest had certainly helped ease the shock, but he couldn’t deny the lingering hurt and anger at his wife’s deceit. She had harmed several people he cared about with her writings, and countless more had doubtless been impacted as well. But he tried to set aside other people’s grievances as it was all too overwhelming. He must focus on himself and his marriage at the moment. It was Penelope’s responsibility to set things right with others if she felt it necessary.

He tried to see the situation from her perspective. Penelope had been a young debutante when the column began, and she had tried to act with his best interests in mind with regard to Miss Thompson. If he were entirely honest with himself, he was grateful for her intervention. The truth was, she had tried to warn him, albeit discreetly. He chose to dismiss her advice, and even at the Hastings ball he’d recognized how foolish that had been. Penelope was a valued confidant, and he knew she hadn’t deliberately hurt him in that instance. 

What he couldn’t as easily forgive was the way she kept her identity from him once they became engaged. He could sympathize with her need for secrecy when he was a mere friend. But once he became her husband, she should have shared her deepest concerns with him. How could he protect her if he didn’t know where she was or what she was doing? Especially if she was making enemies with every word she wrote. He meant what he said: he wanted her to feel free as his wife. But he had also hoped they would be open with one another and work together in building a life.

Why hadn’t she made it a priority to share her identity, despite the anxiety she felt? Penelope could have enlisted Eloise to help her if she needed support, or even written it in a letter. Anger simmered below the surface as he remembered her way with words—surely she could have found a way to communicate the news since sharing secrets was her greatest talent. 

Anything would have been better than finding out as he had. Did she care about how it broke his trust? Would she have ever told him if she hadn’t been caught? He had so many questions. Yet how could he believe that she would be fully truthful when she’d hidden so much from him?

It was humiliating to be fooled yet again, to be so utterly wrong about another’s character. He paced just around the corner from his family’s home, trying to regulate his temper and compose himself enough to meet her calmly. The last thing he wanted was to let his sense of betrayal explode in front of the rest of the family.

Colin’s arrival was announced in the dining room. He found the youngest members of his family and his mother still at breakfast, but the person he had been most anxious to see was nowhere to be found. He had never before felt relief at avoiding Penelope, and the thought saddened him.

“Good morning!” his mother greeted effusively. “What a pleasure to have both you and your wife’s company for breakfast. Come join us.”

Gregory and Hyacinth mumbled their greetings, as neither were particularly social at this time of day. Colin helped himself at the sideboard despite having almost no appetite. He knew it would attract notice if he didn’t eat. Even so, as he took a seat near his mother and began picking at his food, he recognized a concerned look in her eyes.

“Where is my wife, Mother?'' he asked, hoping to appear nonchalant.

“Eloise is showing her some new books upstairs. Shall I have a footman notify her of your arrival?”

“No, I won’t disturb them yet.” Colin mused that it would be best if Penelope was able to converse privately with Eloise before they saw one another. “I’ll go up in a few minutes.”

“Are you well, Colin? You seem troubled.”

Colin was torn between a manly impulse to reject his mother’s help and a sense of comfort that she knew him so well. He glanced at his younger siblings to ensure they weren’t listening and murmured, “Penelope and I are learning more about one another. It is not always as simple as I had hoped.”

“I wondered if something like that brought you both here this morning.” Violet searched his face and laid a soft hand over his for just a moment. “It rarely is simple, dear, if the person you marry is to maintain your interest for a lifetime.”

Colin let out a short laugh, but there was little humor in it. “Penelope is interesting, Mother, but I find myself surprised by what I’m learning.”

“And I assume that some of these revelations don’t meet your approval?” his mother asked gently. At Colin’s nod, she continued, “Son, it may be wise to keep in mind that Penelope is still quite young. I’m sure she has made mistakes and will continue to make them, just as you will.”

Colin considered this perspective and found it held the ring of truth. After all, he was still finding his purpose, discovering who he wanted to be in the world and feeling utterly lost at times. Penelope was even younger, and she had far less freedom to explore. And he was beginning to see that she had little love and guidance from her family as she matured. Her mother came for a perfunctory visit after the wedding but seemed to have no concern for her daughter, only focusing on her own triumph at acquiring a Bridgerton for a son-in-law. Penelope sought an outlet where she would be heard, and it was no wonder the power had grown more unwieldy than she was able to handle on her own. 

“Thank you, Mother. I’m doing my best to be a good husband to her.”

“And what of her? Do you believe she is trying to please you?”

Colin tried to keep his cheeks from heating as his first musings drifted to how very hard Penelope tried to please him, but in ways that were far from what his mother intended. He shifted his thoughts in a more appropriate direction and thought of how Penelope had taken to her role as his wife. She seemed delighted by their teasing conversations and lately had been seeking him out in his study when she wasn’t occupied with callers. He knew that she made every effort to keep the house running smoothly and in accordance with his preferences. As they attended more social events together, a rhythm had developed in how they circled the room politely while also maintaining an awareness of each other’s presence. It was such a comfort to find his wife after yet another dreary conversation with some lord or other, feel her soft touch on his arm, and see that sweet smile directed at him. And she genuinely seemed to care when he was distressed, offering to listen and reassure him. 

“She’s trying. Pen is a devoted friend.”

“Yes, Penelope has always carried you in her heart.” Colin tried to protest that it was only because of her kind spirit, but his mother shook her head at him in amusement. “Be patient with her and I believe you will have the most loyal partner in life you could hope for. But that doesn’t mean you can’t share your concerns with her. Be open about what you do and do not want for your marriage, and you will both be much happier.”

Violet seemed to know that he needed to keep to his own thoughts, for she returned to her breakfast as he finished his meal. After a few minutes, Colin kissed his mother’s cheek gratefully, more at peace than he had been since he learned about Penelope’s secret. “I believe I would like to see her now, but thank you for breakfast.”

His mother’s words echoed in his head as he climbed the familiar staircase to Eloise’s bedchamber. At his knock, his sister opened the door and he could see Penelope behind her, eyes red rimmed and clutching a handkerchief. Colin watched as Eloise and Penelope exchanged glances and wordlessly communicated in that manner characteristic of dear friends. Then she turned away so he couldn’t see her face, clearly not wanting him to see her distress.

“Brother, there is a book I wished to borrow that I believe is in your old room. Perhaps you could help me locate it.”  

He quickly understood that Penelope wished for privacy, but he didn’t want her to think him completely indifferent to her. “One moment, El,” he requested, and crossed the room to kneel beside Penelope’s perch on the window seat. He lifted her hand and kissed it gently, murmuring, “Good morning, Pen. Perhaps we can return home together when I’ve assisted Eloise.”  

She nodded a bit tremulously and squeezed his hand before he rose and accompanied his sister out of the room. As soon as they reached his old bedchamber, Eloise rounded on him.

“What do you intend to do now? Will you send her to the country?”

Colin sputtered in shock, “What? Of course not, Eloise. Who do you take me for?”

“She’s certain you will abandon her now. You know her family is dreadful, and I won’t allow you to take her away from me! I’m all she has. If she goes, I will go with her!” Eloise glared at him fiercely, as though daring him to argue with her. 

“Eloise, I never said I planned to do anything of the sort. Send Penelope away? It would be barbaric and I can’t believe you think me capable of it! Furthermore, she is my wife and she will always have me. You are a dear friend to her and I am glad of that, but I am her husband, and I thank you for remembering my place in her life.” 

His tone became heated as he defended himself, and Eloise looked taken aback, for he was rarely out of good humor, even when she was prickly with him. Now he was the one glaring, and she stared back sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, Colin. I assumed from how distraught Penelope was–”

He clenched his jaw in frustration. “Penelope seems determined to think the worst of me. I was upset last night, but I did not raise my voice, nor did I say anything about casting her out. I need more time to consider what this means for us, but I would never abandon her.”

Eloise’s indignation left her as quickly as it had come, and she flopped on the bed in a most unladylike fashion. “This is my fault. She’s afraid because of me. I responded so horribly when I found out—I abandoned her, even though I knew she had no one else.” 

“In fairness, it must have come as quite a shock.” He sat beside her on the bed, nudging her shoulder affectionately now that they had both calmed somewhat. “What do you make of all this? That Pen is Whistledown—I can scarcely believe it. I feel my world has been turned upside down.”

Eloise nodded sympathetically. “I felt the same. We’ve spoken about it many times since, and it helped me to see that I wasn’t paying enough attention. Penelope is such a good listener that sometimes I forget she has things of importance to say. She’s rather good at hiding herself when she feels the need.”

Colin nodded thoughtfully, and they spoke a little more, of Eloise’s infamous appearance in Whistledown and of how he had been impacted. He shared some of his fears with Eloise and was surprised to see the softer side of his sister emerge. As they grew older and spent less time together, he had forgotten that she possessed one.

“Colin, with time it will improve. And Penelope is making an effort—she promised to be open with me after I found out, and she has kept her promise. She struggled for weeks with how to tell you.”

“Then why didn’t she, Eloise?” 

Eloise hesitated. “I don’t wish to betray her confidence. But I can say that she cares for you deeply and fears losing your affection.” 

“I have done all I can to prove my constancy, yet she still doubts me.” Colin could not help but express his frustration, cursing himself once again for his words the night of the ball.

“Colin, may I be blunt?”

He chuckled, raising an eyebrow at her. “I don’t believe you have ever asked my permission for such a thing before; you need not start now.”

Eloise rolled her eyes at him but then grew serious. “The Featherington ball is difficult for her to forget. She lost us both that night, and I believe it was a dark time for her, although she has not admitted it. I think she fears being alone again, and I cannot blame her for that.”

Colin examined his younger sister thoughtfully. She seemed to have matured, her natural compassion enhanced by navigating this change with Penelope. He had always known their friendship was loving, but felt concerned at times that Penelope was bowled over by his sister’s exuberance. Perhaps they were both growing as a result of the truth coming out. He patted her hand affectionately.

“I think you’re right, El. Thank you for all you’ve done for both of us.”

“You are rather fortunate to have me,” Eloise said in a self-satisfied manner, and Colin laughed to see his sister’s characteristic confidence returning.

“Indeed. Now, I should like to return to my wife.”

Eloise readily agreed, and they made the short walk down the hallway back to her bedchamber. Penelope appeared to have washed her face and been freshened up by Eloise’s maid, as there was little evidence of her prior tears except for a certain puffiness around her eyes. She bade farewell to Eloise and gingerly accepted Colin’s arm to descend the stairs. They briefly said goodbye to his mother, who shooed them home kindly but firmly. It was rather apparent that Violet felt they needed to be alone to reconcile. Colin appreciated her support but knew that the solution wouldn’t be as simple as a single conversation, and he heaved a heavy sigh as they descended the steps. Once they were on the street, Penelope broke the awkward silence. 

“I’m sorry if you were alarmed by my absence this morning.”

“I appreciated your note,” Colin said, somewhat stiffly. He wasn’t sure where to begin or if he wanted to speak at all. They were both in pain, but he couldn’t find it in himself to comfort her when he felt so hollow. The couple walked in silence, the streets empty given the unfashionably early hour. 

“Shall we go home through Hyde Park?” Colin asked. “It’s a fine day and it may do us both good.” 

Penelope nodded, and they continued in the quiet, a fine mist rising off the lake as the sun rose higher in the sky. They nodded cordially to the few they passed, but both were lost in their thoughts. Colin had grown accustomed to the way his wife leaned into him when she walked on his arm, an intimacy that she never allowed herself previously. But today, she held herself rigid and formal by his side, seemingly afraid of causing offense. 

Colin too felt ill at ease, swayed by emotion on either side. At one moment fuming silently, at others filled with a sort of sick sadness he could only call heartache. And underneath it all was the daunting realization that they must find a way back to one another or neither would be whole in their life together. To live as strangers when he knew there was such potential for intimacy between them would be intolerable. And instinctively, he knew that Penelope felt the same way.

“I must return home to complete preparations for Scotland,” Colin said as he steered them along. “There are some final arrangements to be made, but I hope you have a pleasant afternoon.”

“Thank you,” Penelope replied politely, her face drawn and pale as they entered the house.

Colin adjourned to his study, meeting with Dunwoody to provide instructions and reviewing his ledger to ensure that all was in order. He directed the packing of his trunk and asked his valet to speak to Penelope’s maid regarding the range of garments they would need for the journey. Despite Anthony’s impression of him, he took his responsibility to care for Penelope seriously and he did not wish for anything to go awry, either at home or while they were traveling. 

He had asked for a small repast to be brought to the study for the midday meal so he could work as he ate, but as dinner approached, he went upstairs to dress. When he entered the bedchamber, he was startled to see Penelope’s petite form lying in bed. 

“Penelope, are you ill?” he asked, walking around the side of the bed so he could see her face. When he saw her cheeks glazed with tears and the slight shaking in her shoulders, he knew it was distress that brought her low. She was dressed in a plain cotton nightgown, some lace at the neck the only adornment, and her hair was braided for sleep despite the relatively early hour. 

“Oh, Pen,” he said sympathetically, for she looked so young in her anguish and he hated the thought of her suffering. He sat beside her on the bed, reaching for his handkerchief and beginning to wipe her tears away.

“I will be well, Colin. The staff thinks I’m fatigued. Please allow them to continue with that impression. I merely need some time and I will be back to my usual duties tomorrow.” 

She smiled at him bravely and seemed to think he would take his leave. Colin brushed the unruly curls back from her face with some confusion. “Penelope, our departure is tomorrow. Have you forgotten?”

The blue pools of her eyes, shiny with unshed tears, blinked up at him. “You’re not leaving me here?”

Her small voice, so heartbroken yet resigned, filled him to overflowing with emotion. He couldn’t be sure who he was most angry at—Penelope for her lack of faith in him, her family for convincing her she was so disposable, or Lady Whistledown for starting all of this mess in the first place. He had to remind himself that Pen and Lady Whistledown were one and the same, both forming Penelope Bridgerton into the wife he was growing to love. He lay on the bed facing her and gathered her up in his arms. 

“I will never leave you. And I certainly will not cast you out or send you to live elsewhere.” He stared at her intently, willing her to believe him. She broke into quiet sobs at his words, burying her face in his chest and allowing him to hold her for a moment. Then she pulled back with an ashamed look on her face.

“I don’t deserve your comfort. I am the one who erred.”

He held her even tighter and didn’t speak for several minutes, but it didn’t feel as tense as it had all morning. Finally, he kissed her forehead and caught her chin in his hand so they could look at one another. 

“Penelope, I’m beginning to learn that marriage isn’t always about who deserves what. Our sorrow is joined just as our happiness is. We’ve both made mistakes. But we need to learn how to correct them together.”

She nodded seriously, a faint light of hope appearing in her eyes, and he got up. “Will you join me for dinner downstairs? Or should we have a tray sent up?”

“You don’t have to change your plans for me. I imagine you were coming up to dress…”

Colin knew she might react this way, but he felt frustrated at the first signs of her distancing. “Penelope, if we are to recover from this, we need to spend time together. I’m still angry, but how will we grow to understand one another by keeping apart?”

“You’re right,” Penelope sighed. She rose from bed, wiping her eyes again with his handkerchief. “I’ll ring for a tray to be brought to the sitting room then. Hopefully the staff will assume we were overcome with passion.” She smiled at him a little tentatively, and he was heartened that she was trying to return them to their normal banter.

“If they do, we will know they’ve been paying attention to the habits of their new master and mistress,” he replied with a wink.

She blushed and wrapped her arm around his waist, and he felt that little thrill rising in his chest. How he loved when she was affectionate with him, when she couldn’t stop herself from touching him even if she tried to resist it. She was so soft and bashfully sweet. For a moment, he wondered if he was being taken in again, as he had with Marina, as he had so many times when he trusted the wrong person. But somehow he knew that it wasn’t the case. Perhaps he didn’t know Penelope as well as he had thought, but in fairness, she was learning about him as well. And the way she gazed up at him so adoringly, so grateful for his kindness at a time of such difficulty, couldn’t be anything but genuine.

Later, Penelope stole glances at Colin as they read in the sitting room adjoining their bedchamber. It had become her favorite place in the townhome they shared, cozy and private. She always felt safe here; truly relaxed in a way she never had living with her family. She never knew when her mother or sisters may come barging into her space, ready to criticize her for some minor offense. But here, she never had to worry, for even now when he was angry with her, Colin was still kind and good to his core. 

He noticed her watching him and raised his eyebrows in question. She hated to break their peace, but there were so many things to speak of. Now that Whistledown was out in the open, she must consult him before making further decisions. She braced herself, knowing that the conversation would be unpleasant.

“Colin, I was planning to publish while we’re gone,” she began quietly.

She stopped speaking as his posture changed. Colin was usually so charming, but he instantly took on the regal demeanor of a Bridgerton when he was displeased. She supposed he had learned how from watching Anthony, and it was a formidable sight. She vowed to tread carefully until he once again became the gentle husband she was accustomed to.

“I see. And my opinion has no bearing on the matter?” Colin’s voice was cold and it sent a shiver down her spine, reminding her of discussions between her parents that she would rather forget. She wanted to back down immediately, avoid the tension and the fight and the fear that came with it. But it wouldn’t be fair, not when she was the one who had brought it up. And not when Colin needed to know that he was important to her. 

“It matters greatly. That’s why I’m speaking to you about it.”

Colin shook his head in frustration, standing up and beginning to pace. “I hate this. I hate it!”

“Please, I only want to discuss it,” she pleaded, wringing her hands. “I must leave instructions and if I wait–”

“You are choosing your column over me. Over our marriage,” Colin growled.

“What?” Penelope cried, springing to her feet. “That isn’t true!”

“It’s your only concern. Not your husband, not our life together, nothing! You know how upset I am and you don’t care!”

“I do care! I’m trying to show that I care by making the decision together!” They were toe to toe and despite her small stature and flimsy nightdress, she drew herself up to her most dignified height, determined to finish this conversation. 

“And what if I say no? What if I want you to stop being Lady Whistledown?”

He stared at her intently, and she tried not to flinch away from his eye contact. But what could she possibly say? She wasn’t ready to give up all her hard won success and independence on an impulse. Not when Colin was still absorbing what it all meant. She chewed at her lip, considering how to explain, but he appeared to take that as her answer. As the silence stretched on, he huffed out a sarcastic laugh.

“That’s what I thought. This is an entirely empty exercise, for you will disregard my wishes as you did before. Regardless of my feelings, Lady Whistledown will do what she thinks is best.” 

“You’re making it out to be so simple. Of course, I care about you!  But this is my business. I worked hard for it and I am good at it. It’s the only thing that’s ever been mine! It is a part of me,” Penelope cried.

“I’m well aware of that. If only I had known both parts of you before we married.” The words were out before he could fully consider them, and he saw the flash of shock and pain in her eyes before the fight took over. 

“Then what, Colin? You wouldn’t have taken me to your bedchamber that night? You wouldn’t have married me? If you had known I actually have a mind of my own? That I’m not sweet and quiet and deferential at every moment of the day?”

“Now you’re not being fair.” Colin raked his hands through his hair. “Your writing will affect both of our lives—it already has. And instead of giving me a moment to think, you’re pressing me for an answer. Not even the courtesy of a few days to absorb the idea that my wife betrayed me!” 

She flinched, knowing that he was right—she had betrayed him. He was trying his best, but he was upset. And now her worst fear had been realized: he knew what a terrible mistake he had made by marrying her. She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the room, wishing she could shut out the pain. But she was beyond the childishness of such hopes now, and so she opened them again to her beloved husband. He looked defeated, and she hated that more than anything. His buoyant hopefulness, his optimism and joy, were what made Colin the man that he was. She longed to restore the brightness to his countenance, to make him laugh. But for now, all she could do was try to control the damage she had caused. 

Penelope began pacing herself, circling the room as she thought. She had hoped they could have a calm discussion, but now she realized she had made yet another mistake. It was still too raw between them, and her priority must be to hear him even if it wasn’t expressed how she might wish. Finally, she felt collected enough to respond calmly.

“I see now that it’s too soon for us to discuss this, and I regret bringing it up. I apologize. I will cancel editions for the next several weeks so you don’t have to think of it. When you are ready, we can speak of the future.”

Colin nodded stiffly and walked out of the room without another word, shutting the door firmly behind him. Penelope tried to breathe deeply and consider the matter practically, despite wishing she could lie on the floor and cry until she had no tears left. He regrets me. He doesn’t want me. She pushed the heartache away so she could focus.

She sat at her writing table and began a letter to Gen, asking for her assistance in notifying the printer of her extended break from publication. She still had time to send her maid tonight—that is, if Colin approved. For despite how ugly their argument had become, she felt sure that transparency would be the key to earning back his trust. And while he may be angry at the moment, she tried to remember that he had also promised never to leave her. Surely that meant something.

Before she sealed the letter, she went downstairs to seek him out. As expected, he was in his study, sipping a glass of brandy by the fire and looking out the window stormily. At her light knock, he looked up, nodding his head to indicate she could enter and close the door behind her. She walked over and pressed a brief kiss to his cheek, as she hated to see the weary look on his face and wished she could relieve it. Penelope had determined to continue drawing near to him even when she felt uncomfortable. That was what he was asking of her, and he deserved to be loved in such a way. At her show of affection, he sighed and gazed at her with vulnerable eyes. He no longer looked angry and cold, just unbearably sad. She impulsively kissed him again and asked, “May I sit with you? This will only take a moment.” 

He set down his glass and gestured for her to settle on his lap, as she had taken to doing when she sought him out in his study. It was so much more convenient as they usually greeted one another with lingering kisses and embraces that grew more heated the longer they were married. She missed their intimacy. Today, however, passion was the last thing Colin would want. But she knew that when they touched, every conversation seemed easier. 

“Colin, I’m still new to being your wife and I erred just now. It was insensitive of me. I don’t want to give the impression that I don’t care about your feelings. But I must continue to speak to you of Whistledown, even when it is uncomfortable for both of us. No matter when I retire, there are threads that must be unraveled and tasks I must complete.”

He grimaced and took a rather large gulp of his drink. “I understand,” he said briskly. “Carry on then.” 

“Would you like to review this letter to one of my associates?”

She handed him the paper, but he didn’t look at it. “Why, Penelope?”

“I’m tired of secrets as well. You deserve better from your wife.”

One arm tightened around her waist, but his face remained closed off, his eyes distant. It was inevitable, but she mourned the ease they had once shared and wondered if he felt the same. 

Colin turned his attention to the letter, confirming that she was making arrangements to pause publication. He hadn’t given the matter much thought until now, but there were so many details that went into running the operation that he had never considered. His eyes widened at her efforts to ensure the messenger boys were still paid in her absence, and Colin began to understand what a rather large endeavor his wife was responsible for. He had some sympathy for her wish to address the logistics of it all, especially with others relying on her for their income. 

“Thank you for sharing this with me,” he finally said. “May I know the name of your accomplice?”

“Do you know the modiste, Madame Delacroix?” 

Colin nodded, as he was aware of Benedict’s liaison with the woman. He was somewhat surprised by Penelope’s intimacy with her, as he could sense obvious affection and trust in the letter he was holding. He supposed that Penelope had become much less sheltered and less beholden to the rules of society, given the necessity of asking for help as her business expanded.

“I ask that you keep her identity secret, no matter what. I’ve given her my word that I will protect her.”

“And who will protect you, Pen? I’m afraid for you. Eloise told me of the risks you are taking by taunting the queen.” A stern frown formed on his face as he thought of all the danger she was in and how little he could do to help her, even with his connections. “Not to mention other members of the ton who you may have offended.”

“Colin, I’m used to protecting myself by now.” She smiled at him reassuringly. “In fact, I’m rather proud of how I’ve managed so far. It can be complicated at times to prevent detection, but no harm has ever come to me. And I am not overly concerned about it.” 

“Even after what happened to your father when he angered the wrong people?” Colin asked harshly. 

Penelope’s breath caught in a sharp gasp. It was impossible to be in the business of collecting gossip and not hear the rumors of her father’s untimely death. But her family never spoke of it and no one had ever dared refer to it directly in her presence. Her eyes filled with tears, for she loved her father despite his shortcomings, and her grief was still ever present.

“Colin,” she said in a choked voice, “This is different.”

“And you are willing to stake your life on that? What of me? What shall I do if harm befalls you?”

Penelope paused. She had never considered her actions from that standpoint before. Was she more like her father than she thought, reckless and with little regard for how her actions might endanger her? She forced herself to imagine how Colin, let alone Eloise, would feel if the wrong person were to discover her identity. It sickened her to think of it, and suddenly her column didn’t feel nearly as important. 

She threw herself into her husband’s arms, holding him tightly. “I’m sorry, Colin. I never considered that anyone but myself would be affected if anything were to happen. No one has ever worried about me before,” she said in a small voice. “I’ve never mattered to anyone.”

“Pen, how can you say such things? Of course I worry. Of course you matter. Did you not read my letters? Have you not seen how I’ve tried to look after you?” He kissed her hair over and over, as if trying to assure himself of her well-being. “You must keep yourself safe, precious girl.”

How it made her melt when he was so tender with her. That had not been the response she was expecting. The worry, no, the fear for her safety? She could hear it was genuine, just as if she was a part of his own family. And she remembered his words at the Featherington ball, the first ones. 

“ I will always look after you, Pen. You are special to me.”

“I will, Colin, for your sake. You’re a very good man.” Penelope felt her eyes well with tears. “We have always tried to look after one another, have we not?”

Colin considered that for a moment. “We have. With decidedly mixed results.” For the first time, a familiar spark of humor lit up his eyes and they both laughed. She took it as an improvement that they could already poke fun at some of their foibles.

“Perhaps we will improve with time; I know that I intend to do much better at caring for you.” Colin smiled at her softly in response. Their conversation, while difficult, had eased much of the tension in the room. “Don’t be afraid for me; I promise to be careful.”

Colin sighed and shrugged a little helplessly. “That’s too much to ask. Can you truthfully say you never worry about me? Is that not why you intervened with Miss Thompson?”

Penelope tenderly brushed her fingers through his hair as her lips quirked into a half smile. “Now you’ve made a point that I cannot possibly argue with, husband. You’re right that it's natural to worry for one we cherish, and I cannot fault you for it without being a hypocrite.” 

“So you cherish me?” Colin asked leadingly. Sometimes he felt he craved her reassurance more than food and water. Not only in words, but in those soft caresses that made him feel chosen. And their discussion of all the dangers she faced made him so grateful that he could hold her and touch her in return. Her weight was a comforting presence in his lap, and he planned to keep her near for as long as she would allow.

Penelope seemed to recognize the heat in his eyes, for she was drawing closer and closer to his lips, searching his eyes for permission. She breathed out a soft, “yes” so close to him that he could feel her lips brush against his. 

A thought had occurred to him over the past day, and he found himself hoping it was true. Had Penelope intervened in his engagement only out of friendly concern?  Or did she have tender feelings for him? Had she perhaps even felt possessive of him? He could never condone the means she had used to protect him, but the thought of her wanting him for herself excited him. 

“Were you jealous?” he asked. 

She looked at him, startled and perhaps a bit anxious. He noticed that she didn’t need any clarification on what he was referring to and her silence was confirmation in itself. His pulse quickened and his hands wandered up her sides, coming ever so close to her breasts. Sweet, innocent Penelope, who had never even been kissed, had been jealous when he paid attention to other women. She had noticed him then, perhaps had even found him handsome.

The smug expression on his face must have reassured her, for she smirked in a familiar way that meant she planned to say something bold or surprising. She traced her thumb around his mouth before resting it against his bottom lip, working the full part a little roughly as she tested its plumpness. He felt a fresh surge of desire at the seductive way she pouted at him.

“You were meant to be mine,” she said simply, releasing him only to capture his mouth with her own.  

He loved it when she claimed him, when she said “mine” so greedily, and with such certainty. He gripped her waist tightly, and her kiss only became hungrier in response. How he had missed making love to her and knowing that she wanted him in return. Colin was still angry, but he realized it coexisted with so many other emotions—desire, gratitude, admiration. 

Now Penelope’s streak of rebelliousness made sense in light of what he knew of Whistledown. For she certainly wasn’t following any of the rules when she unbuttoned his shirt, almost tearing the cravat away from his neck so she could leave her mark there. Nor when she pulled her nightgown over her head and promptly kneeled on all fours on the floor in front of him. He had never seen her like this, so wanting and fierce. Her bare body in such a position erased every thought of their conflict or of gentlemanly behavior.

Penelope didn’t say a word, just presented herself to him wantonly. She arched her back so he could see her pink center, so inviting and glistening with her desire for him. He was hers and she was his. That was all that mattered now, that they belonged to each other, no matter what conflict lay between them. He hastily removed his breeches and kneeled over her. 

“What do you want?” he asked, not because it wasn’t clear but because he wanted to hear her say it. He always wanted to know that it wasn’t all in his head, that his wife wanted him as much as he longed for her.

“I want what’s mine,” she demanded, and Colin groaned with arousal. Maybe there would be a time for gentle lovemaking later, but for now, he wouldn’t deny either of them by going slowly. He bit her shoulder while he sank into her, fighting for control at how hot and wet she was for him.

“There, is that what you wanted? Am I yours?” he asked as he began thrusting into her steadily, her sharp cries of “yes!” increasing in volume as he picked up his pace. Their passion was stormy, but it felt pure, like a cleansing rain after the anger and fear that had raged in every discussion. Each time he drove into her felt like a gift, a way to reassure himself that nothing could separate them, not even their darkest secrets.

Colin wasn’t thinking anymore. He could only feel his wife, tight and clenching around him, her body so pliant in his arms. It would have felt surreal if he hadn’t been so connected to her every moan and touch. She pushed back against him, cementing in his mind that she was only his. He toyed with her sensitive bud, relishing in the way she called for more, completely uninhibited in her pleasure. When she reached her peak, he pulled out to take his own release with a loud cry. 

After cleaning both of them up as best he could, he found her watching him from the floor of the study, looking spent and satisfied. She lay on her back, her legs bent, unashamed of her nakedness and confident of her beauty in his eyes.

“Come up to bed with me,” she purred, and he realized with a jolt of renewed arousal that she was fondling her breasts while she raked her stare over his bare body. Penelope was as lovely as she was dangerous. Despite his cruel words of regret earlier in the day, he knew he would never trade her for a more conventional bride.

“Ladies should ask more politely for what they want, don’t you think?” he asked with a challenging smirk.

Colin watched in delighted shock as she spread her knees apart, providing him with an obscene view. She stared at him shamelessly, enjoying the way she could feel his gaze almost like a physical caress. One hand trailed down between her thighs and began tracing slow circles around her bud, causing her eyelids to flutter shut in pleasure. “I’m afraid I’m not in the mood to be polite, husband, and it seems neither are you. Decide if you belong in my bed or not.”

He watched with rapt attention as she dipped a finger inside, and even though they had just coupled, he wanted her again. She was teasing him, and he determined to repay her with interest. Colin knelt once more at her altar and used his hands to spread her, taking his time to enjoy the view. After tasting her with a long, slow lick to her center that made her gasp, he looked up at her with her fleshy hips framing his handsome face. 

“I do. Never forget it,” Colin said firmly, before scooping her up and carrying her from the room to their bed. 

Chapter Text

Colin handed Penelope into their carriage early the next morning with his thoughts in disarray. He should have been ecstatic—nothing compared to the vibrant promise of setting out on a journey. For the first time, he would be accompanied by his wife, the person who supported his travels more than anyone. He had written to her so many times, wishing more than anything that she could see for herself what he was describing. Always longing for her company and wondering what she would think or say if she was along for the adventure, even though he wasn’t fully aware of his feelings at the time.

The pair only managed a few hours of sleep last night, for after their tryst in the study, they were insatiable. Hour by hour, they dozed in one another’s arms before the press of their heated bodies roused them to initiate another round of lovemaking. It was as if they were reassuring themselves of their connection again and again. 

Colin’s heart felt raw at the memory of it—how desperate and tender it had been to join again after their conflict. How was it possible to feel so close to another person even in the midst of such tension? Despite his fatigue, he was filled with wonder as he dressed and prepared to depart. But by the time they met again downstairs, Penelope had retreated to her former reserve with him, eating breakfast quietly and with none of the heated glances or sweet blushes he was anticipating.

As he climbed into the carriage, he knew he could choose one of two paths: either sit beside her and ask directly what she was thinking, or sit across from her, communicating his displeasure. Perhaps it was childish, but sometimes he wanted to be assured of her affection without asking. The last few days had been exhausting, and he needed the comfort of feeling chosen by her.

His wife glanced up when he settled in the seat across from her and banged his hand against the roof to inform the coachman they were ready to depart. Once they were underway, Colin gazed at the quiet streets of London out the window and tried not to look at Penelope. After several minutes of boredom and yearning for her attention, he heaved a heavy sigh. He supposed he was sulking, but why didn’t she notice him? Wasn’t she filled to bursting with excitement over their first journey together, as he was? And wasn’t she the slightest bit curious about his brooding silence?

He huffed again and finally broke his resolve not to look at her, only to find her watching him with concern. 

“What is it, dearest? I thought you would be thrilled that we’re finally off.”

“I am,” he said sharply, crossing his arms. True, she called him dearest, but she had not yet touched him this morning, nor had she moved to sit beside him.

“Would you like to talk about it?” she asked tentatively.

“No,” he replied shortly.

“May I help make you comfortable? I had Cook prepare a basket with all of your favorites if you’re hungry. Or I could read to you if you require amusement.”

Colin pouted and shook his head. She was deliberately missing the point. Didn’t she know that he wished to be beside her? Shouldn’t she seek him out since she knew very well how her body brought him comfort? Their intimacy last night had helped, but now the hurt and insecurity were rising up again. 

She continued to watch him quietly until the sway of the carriage began to lull them both, and she stifled a yawn. Comprehension dawned, and she pulled off her gloves, patting the seat beside her before rummaging in a basket nearby. He slouched over to her side of the carriage, supposing that he could respond to her invitation to sit near her even if she really should have come to him. 

“You must be exhausted,” she fussed, removing his hat and setting it aside. She helped him shrug off his overcoat and gently urged him to lay his head in her lap. Colin felt like a lazy cat leaning into her caresses as she loosened his cravat and covered him up with the blanket she had pulled out. “My poor boy, you should rest.”

Colin yawned dramatically and nuzzled closer to Penelope’s soft form. She really was a rather cozy sort of person, and now that she mentioned it, a nap sounded quite nice. His irritation wasn’t entirely forgotten, but it was certainly soothed by her attention. Her hand made its way to that bare patch of skin on his chest where she had loosened his cravat and top buttons. After several minutes of enjoying her fingers tracing the muscles of his chest, Colin had calmed enough to speak to her.

“Why were you so quiet this morning, Penelope?” he asked.

Her blue eyes blinked in surprise. “I imagine for the same reason you were. Our activities last night didn’t allow for much rest.” 

She flushed as he smiled smugly, his frustration with her disappearing at the explanation. He loved the way she could be so bold with him at one moment and in the next blush as though she was still untouched. Her reactions were so genuine, so Penelope. 

“Yes, our activities. You certainly seemed determined to test my stamina,” he teased. “I never expected my wife to be so demanding.”

The pink stain crept ever lower on her body, and he reached his hand up to trace it as it descended to the curve of her breasts. He wondered idly if she would allow him to take her in the carriage during the journey. But now wasn’t the moment, for instead of looking amused she appeared worried. 

“Colin,” she breathed. “I apologize—what must you think of me?”

“Don’t fret, Pen. I like it when you want me.”

“Even when you’re angry with me?” she asked, chewing her lip nervously.

“Do you like it when I touch you or say that I desire you? Even when you remember what I said and how I hurt you?”

“Yes. But that’s different,” she said, and Colin recognized the insecurity in her eyes. They both felt that way at times, and he hated how it kept them apart. Penelope never would have hidden Lady Whistledown from him for so long if she felt sure of his acceptance. 

“It's exactly the same,” he said reassuringly. “We want each other, and that’s as it should be for a husband and wife. You don’t need to pretend with me, ever.”

They rode in silence for several minutes, and Colin wondered if Penelope was dozing off, lulled by the rocking of the carriage. He burrowed closer to her, glad that they would have this time together away from the pressures of London society. Perhaps it would allow them to understand one another and begin to trust again.

“Do you ever pretend with me?” she asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

Colin gave the question serious thought, for he could see that she had been considering it carefully. Finally he shook his head. “You’re the one person I don’t have to pretend with—that comes naturally for me. But I want your approval so badly—your respect. I hope that you care if I’m nearby.” He paused to consider it further. “Perhaps I want you to need me. Those are the things I worry about.”

“Aren’t my feelings for you clear?” she asked. “I thought it evident that I regard you as the best of men.” Her eyes searched his face as though trying to solve a puzzle. Colin knew that if he responded it would hurt her, but there had been too much unspoken between them. He was so accustomed to his role as charming Colin Bridgerton, but he didn’t want to play a part with his wife. Being pleasing at the cost of truth wasn’t a compromise he was willing to make.

“You allowed me to think that I was the only one who makes mistakes. You made a fool of me by hiding an important secret when I trusted you so much. Especially when you knew I had been deceived before—you didn’t spare a thought for how that would make me feel.” 

Penelope swallowed several times, her eyes misting, but she continued to touch him reassuringly. She had always been an attentive listener and he gave her space to think, knowing it was her way of taking him seriously.

“Colin, I thought of little else than how you would feel about it, but I know that doesn’t take away your pain. If you wish, I can show you some of my writings from that time so you can see for yourself.”

“I believe you, Pen; I was there when you tried to tell me,” he sighed heavily. “I realize I told you to wait until you were ready. But would you have ever been ready? Would you have ever told me if I hadn’t discovered it on my own?” 

“I wish I could say yes. The delays only seemed to make it more difficult, so I’m uncertain of what I would have done.” She looked away, ashamed, but Colin felt only relief. It wasn’t the answer he had hoped for but she was clearly committed to answering his questions with an unflinching honesty that he respected.

“Eloise mentioned you’ve been worrying about it for some time; that you even thought of telling me the day we were engaged.”

Penelope nodded as she played with a lock of his hair, seeming to memorize his face as she reflected. “May I explain one of my reasons for waiting? It was a selfish one and I’m not trying to excuse my behavior, I merely wish for you to understand.”

With his nod of approval, she continued. “Our engagement was a whirlwind– everything was happening so quickly and I didn’t know how to feel. And even though it was sudden, our night together seemed to change things between us. We—I allowed myself to be happy about marrying you. Yes, I was afraid, but there were moments when it felt so right.  And after we married, it only became more blissful. We were laughing and enjoying one another’s company; you were making love to me every day—it felt like a dream. I didn’t want our happiness to end. 

“So you see, Colin, it had nothing to do with a lack of affection. There’s no one I have more respect for than you. I’ve never thought of you as a fool. In fact, I believe I'm blinded by my admiration of you,” she admitted.

“Admiration?” 

“It’s a rather embarrassing confession, but Colin, I’ve always kept you on a pedestal. To me, there is no gentleman more interesting, more handsome, more charming. You’ve always seemed so…so magical.”

Colin’s heart was pounding at her praise. Could she really see him this way? “I’m afraid I don’t understand what that has to do with Whistledown,” he said, keeping his voice even.

“I do not count,” she said simply. “How could I, harmless, insignificant Penelope Featherington, ever affect someone like you? I didn’t think I had that power.”

Colin didn’t know whether he should feel flattered that she saw him as such a singular gentleman or disappointed that she had fallen into the trap of so many others: seeing him as merely the charming Bridgerton, without seriousness or a sense of purpose. And there was such sadness in how she saw herself—irrelevant and inconsequential.

“But you are Penelope Bridgerton now. Who could be more important to me? I wish you saw us both more clearly, I wish–” 

Should he plead with her to open herself to him yet again? It was all he wanted: a marriage like his parents had shared. Shouldn’t his wife know the man he was away from the Ton, away from the expectations and the superficiality? Colin was prepared to be known in such a way, but she didn’t seem ready for the same. Penelope kept herself so carefully hidden from him when all he wanted to do was fall in love with her—the real her.

“You won’t tell me what you wish?” she prompted, and he shook his head, feeling frustrated and uncertain. She sighed and laid her head back against the cushion. “I suppose this is how you felt when I was upset with you and shut you out.”

“Uncomfortable, you mean?” She nodded, and he realized something. “You speak as though you aren’t upset anymore?”

Penelope continued to trace his features with tenderness. “I—the memory is still unpleasant. But I’ve realized that even when someone cares a great deal for another, they’re still capable of making mistakes. And the husband you are—your sweetness, your steadiness—it convinces me that you care for me just as I do you.” 

“I’m glad, Pen,” he said seriously. Some of the weight lifted from his shoulders. “I want you to feel you can rely upon me.”

“My judgment was poor in regards to Whistledown, Colin, but you can rely upon me as well. I’ll prove to you that I can be a worthy wife.”

“Pen, I already see you as worthy. But my mother suggested that we should try to speak more about what we each want from our marriage, and I agree. I need a marriage where we share our cares as well as our joys. Where we aren’t afraid to be open with one another.”

“I want that too, Colin. But I must confess that the idea of it frightens me as well.”

“Why, Pen?” he asked, some of his frustration creeping into his voice. “What is it that you fear will happen?”

“I cannot say without my fear coming to fruition,” she said hesitantly.

There was nowhere to escape as they rode on in the small carriage, the tension building. Penelope teetered on the edge of a cliff, uncertain of whether to jump, hoping for a safe landing. Tears welled in her eyes, and she reminded herself that she must try. For if she didn’t, Colin would be alone in his efforts to rebuild trust between them, and that was wrong. She felt it at her core.

“May I sit in your lap?” she asked. It had become a comforting ritual, and she needed him in order to finally speak the truth. Colin sat up so that he could pull her into his arms. She buried her face in his shoulder and spoke her fear aloud, trusting his firm build to muffle the sound.

“What was that, Penelope? I’m afraid I didn’t understand.”

She peeked her face up at him sheepishly. “I was practicing saying it aloud.”

The tension broke as Colin couldn’t help but smile fondly at her. She tried so very hard despite her insecurities, and it was endearing. “Adorable little wife. Tell me so you can be easy again.”

She took a deep breath and met his eyes shyly. “I fear you will break my heart again. If I allow myself to be close to you.”

Penelope dove toward his chest again, shielding herself and tensing in his embrace. Colin felt a squeeze in his chest at how utterly vulnerable she was allowing herself to be, not only by sharing something that clearly made her feel exposed, but trusting him to comfort her in the midst of it. He tilted her chin up, coaxing her from her hiding place with sweet caresses and a kiss on her forehead. Now he could focus on her lovely face, reading all the emotions there like a book he would never tire of. Knowing for certain that she held tender feelings for him made seeing each freckle and sparkle in her blue eyes an entirely new experience. Suddenly, he was certain that if they allowed it, they would love one another as fully as any human being could for the rest of their lives. 

She was stealing glances at him expectantly, waiting for his reaction—perhaps bracing for what she feared he would say. Colin raised his finger and began tracing over her cheek and down her jawline. “I wasn’t aware that I ever had your heart in my possession, let alone that I held the power to break it.”

“You must have known,” Penelope said with some embarrassment. Now that the words had been spoken, she could barely meet his eyes, her heart beating out of her chest with the anxiety of it all. She had almost admitted it out loud: she loved him.

“I’m afraid I was as oblivious to the workings of your heart as I was to my own, Pen. Maybe that’s why we made such a muddle of things. But now that I know, I can assure you that I’ll hold it safely.” His hand came to rest on her chest, where he could surely feel her heartbeat thudding loudly. “And you hold mine as well, Pen. Never forget that.”

While she smiled at him and tried to absorb the notion of it, Penelope felt ill knowing she was so exposed to his judgements or indifference. Why had she said it? Why? But Colin cupped her cheek and leaned in to kiss her tenderly. Being held so closely helped, but she didn’t know if she could bear the vulnerability of it. 

“I see that look on your face, Penelope. Please don’t regret letting me into your heart,” he whispered.

Her breath caught at the soft words, his acceptance and love seeping through the fear. She couldn’t say anything more, not then. It was too overwhelming; the feelings too intense. She could wrap her arms around him though, kissing his neck and burrowing her face into his shoulder. Eventually, they arranged themselves side by side, leaning against one another so they could rest, traveling ever closer to their destination, together.

______

Colin felt lighter now, Penelope’s honesty soothing him and allowing him to see her actions with fresh eyes. He still bristled when he thought of Whistledown, still felt that ache deep in his chest at her deception. But he no longer felt a sense of despair, for hope was taking its place with each confession, each caress, each affirming word.

They had been traveling for days, and Colin found himself continually delighted by it. Penelope relaxed more fully the further they were from London, snuggling up next to him in the carriage, reading aloud to keep him entertained, and even playfully feeding him a biscuit when he complained of hunger. Their friendship was restored, but made all the better now that they could share the intimacy of a married couple. A trip had never been more pleasurable, and it was all due to his wife’s company.

The morning sky was still pink with the sunrise when Colin pulled out his journal as they rolled along. The day before, they stopped the carriage so they could explore a remote village, and he wished to record his recollections while they were still fresh. Penelope came to sit beside him, bringing with her some parchment and a quill. He smiled to see her sharing the little pot of ink he had set up on a tray on the seat next to him. They wrote in silence for several minutes before Penelope huffed a bit in frustration.

“You have a talent for fine penmanship despite all the jostling of the carriage. I’m getting ink splotches everywhere.”

“It requires practice, but I enjoy passing the time this way. To whom are you writing?”

“To you, darling.” Her blush at using a term of endearment for him was adorable, and he felt that happy swoop in his stomach that came whenever she expressed her affection. He laughed out loud at the joy of it.

 “To me? But I’m right beside you.”

“I thought I would write some of my observations of our first trip together, since you seem to enjoy keeping a record of them in your journal.”

Colin leaned over and planted a grateful kiss in her hair. The topic of writing still felt rather fraught between them, but Penelope was trying to find common ground. Finally, she wasn’t keeping him at arm’s length but was doing her best to show she cared. And what could be a better way to show him that she wanted to keep the memories of their time together alive than through one of her passions?

“What a lovely thought, Pen.”

She smiled teasingly. “Yes, and it will allow me an excuse to ask about your writing. I have been filled with curiosity ever since I learned of it.”

Colin felt suddenly bashful. How could he show Penelope his writing when she was a successful published author? He always read Whistledown for the gossip when no one was watching, but what he thought of now was Penelope’s talent. Comparing it to the letters he had received on his tour, he felt rather foolish that he hadn’t worked it out on his own. Her letters were observant and funny in a way that was completely unique. How could his own work meet that standard?

Penelope was still looking at him expectantly, and he snapped back to the present to reply. “You wish to see my writing? I’m not certain…”

She reached out and pulled the quill from his hand, setting it on the tray, and climbed into his lap. “It can be quite intimidating to show another one’s writing, but think of all the letters you’ve written to me. They were so vivid, so poignant. How could your journals be anything but lovely?” 

“How can I say no to you? It’s impossible with such a sweet countenance!” She was smiling at him so enthusiastically and he began kissing all over her face, teasing her all the while. “My perfect, impish, darling girl. My persistent, clever Lady Whistledown. Very well, you may see my journals and discover all my secrets.” 

She was giggling until he brought up Lady Whistledown. Then she looked at him anxiously, wondering if she was allowed to laugh. At the brightness in his eyes, she seemed to relax again and he realized that all really was well. He was still trying to understand it, but Penelope’s secret wouldn’t destroy them. Neither of them would allow it.

Colin urged Penelope to stand so he could retrieve an older journal from his bag, offering it to her to read. His knee bounced rapidly in time with the jostling of the carriage as he awaited her verdict. She silently placed her hand on his knee without even glancing up, tracing calming circles there before stroking his thigh in an extremely distracting way. 

“What do you think?” he finally asked, by which time he was not only desperate to hear her opinion but uncomfortably hard from her hand’s teasing journey edging ever closer to where he wanted it the most.

“Patience, husband. All will be well,” she muttered, turning the page. Colin had to remain content with watching her expression for clues as she continued her perusal.

Eventually, she closed the book with a contented sigh. “Colin, this is even better than I expected. You should publish this.” 

He began to protest, but she silenced him with a firm look, one that left no question of her resolve. She went on to point out examples of his fine writing, even reading some passages aloud. He could feel his confidence growing as his memories were brought to life by her clear, expressive voice, so full of appreciation and certainty.

“You don’t have to decide immediately. But promise me you’ll at least consider it? It would be such a shame if no one else were to witness such beauty.” 

“I’ll consider it on one condition, little wife,” he said, putting away his writing supplies and then turning to face her. 

“And what might that be?” she asked. 

“I would like your assistance practicing my descriptions. You see, I’m accustomed to describing places, but you are the expert at describing people.” 

She appeared confused, but he looked purposefully at her bosom, thanking the fates that fashion allowed her to display herself in such a way. Colin traced his finger along her bodice, dipping his fingers into the plush valley between her breasts. 

“How would I describe such loveliness, for example?” He leaned down and began placing soft kisses everywhere that he could see. 

“Colin, I—” Penelope said, before her attention was distracted by his mouth on her neck. 

“What was that?” he taunted. “I believe you aren’t attending to my questions.”

A glint of fire appeared in her blue eyes, and she knelt in front of him, stroking both of his thighs firmly. “Perhaps I should begin with you. I would describe these as firm, strong, even forceful at times.” He watched in a trance as she unfastened his breeches and allowed his erection to spring free. “And this, hm…” Her voice trailed off as she delicately explored him with her fingers, teasing him and not quite giving him what he wanted. She took him in her mouth, working him over with the perfect amount of pressure and meeting his eyes boldly as he groaned. When she paused to look up at him, he was utterly lost to her, certain he was the most fortunate husband alive. 

“I think I would call this blissful,” she said, before closing her eyes and enveloping him in her mouth as she always did, wholeheartedly.

“Penelope, I want to take you in the carriage,” he said in broken gasps as she pleasured him. “I can’t stop thinking about it.” 

“Only on one condition,” she smirked, pleased to turn his words around on him. “You must practice your description by telling me precisely how you wish to take me and then you may carry it out.”

Colin’s eyes darkened, returning her challenging stare as she went back to work pleasing him. His fantasies grew more elaborate each day they spent in the carriage, and now she was practically daring him to carry them out. He stroked her cheek to indicate she should halt her efforts, then leaned down and whispered in her ear. Her eyes widened and a blush spread across her cheeks as he described in lurid detail his plans for her. Then he captured her mouth with his, and no intelligible words could be heard in the carriage for quite some time.

Chapter Text

As the carriage carried them past dramatic mountains and scenic glens, Penelope felt for the first time what it was like to exist fully as herself. The plush cushions and heavy curtains of their conveyance created a snug nest where she could spend time with Colin without the expectations or pressures of the ton weighing her down. Her husband had planned their trip so that they could proceed in a leisurely fashion, and she felt completely free to share her thoughts, her responses, and also her affection. While they hadn’t spoken explicitly of her admission that Colin owned her heart, she felt bolstered by his evident enjoyment in her company.

Each day they spent traveling, they wrote, sometimes side by side and sometimes together. Colin loved to see her mind at work, the way she could take one of his observations and find a clever turn of phrase to bring humor to the tale. In turn, she adored his lovely descriptions of the landscape and would often ask him to read those passages aloud, closing her eyes to better enjoy the sound of his voice as she recalled the scenes he described. 

Eloise had smuggled Hyacinth’s collection of Lady Whistledown columns to him prior to their departure, and he had been systematically reading through them whenever Penelope was occupied. It was almost as though he needed to see every word again with the knowledge that his Pen was behind every thought and feeling expressed. He felt it was gradually aiding his understanding of her. 

As he pieced together the puzzle of their broken relationship, rereading their correspondence was another revelation. Colin had taken the treasured stack of letters out, worn from being carried about from country to country, and read them yet again. After she revealed her broken heart, he needed to know—how long had she nurtured fond feelings toward him? He read the letters as though searching for clues on a treasure hunt. And how appropriate, for he treasured all that he discovered. 

It warmed him to notice how Penelope so carefully attended to all that he shared—commenting on what intrigued him and adding her own questions and insights. But it was the way she looked past mere words that made his breath catch in his chest. She sensed when he was homesick or ruminating on bad memories and always had a way of reassuring him without being overbearing. 

One startling discovery was that his wife never directly commented on her own well-being. Her avoidance was cleverly done, for Penelope had a way of redirecting the conversation back to Colin without drawing his attention. He had tried to support her in her grief, understanding all too well what it was like to lose a father, but she struggled to accept his comfort.

Now he was questioning if he had truly been a friend to her then. He recalled asking her several times if she was well during that difficult last season before everything fell apart so spectacularly. Now he knew that Eloise had been circling closer to the truth all the while, and he hadn’t imagined the strain on Penelope’s face. How he wished she would have confided in him. But his wife was accustomed to doing things on her own, never able to rely on her family for support. 

It certainly put into perspective how some of their marital struggles had come about. But the more time they spent together, not only talking but also simply enjoying one another’s company, the closer he felt to her and the more certain he was that he loved her. Colin was writing some of his earliest memories of Penelope in his journal even now, remembering how taken he was by her sweet nature and penchant for surprising him from the moment he met her. He looked up from his work and was intrigued to see his wife rifling through a stack of parchment covered in familiar handwriting.

“Are those my letters?” he asked smilingly.

Blue eyes met his a little shyly as she nodded. “I’m searching for a passage that I can’t stop thinking of.”

“I wasn’t aware that you kept them. Or that you brought them with us.” He took in the wide yellow ribbon that Penelope had tied the stack with, noticing the care she had taken to preserve his missives.

“I treasure them, for they are a part of our story.”

Colin reached for her hand and kissed it. Each sweet moment where she opened her heart to him felt like a precious gem that she was entrusting to his care. That they were shared at a cost, for her eyes still held a flash of worry when she confessed such things, made him all the more grateful.

He rummaged through his bag without a word, handing her a leather folio that she opened curiously. 

“You saved mine as well!” she cried.

“Of course, dear one. And now you have the complete set in your possession, although our story is far from finished.” He smiled at her affectionately, noticing her shoulders relax at having her sentiments mirrored by her husband.

“May I keep them for now? Our correspondence has inspired an idea, and it would be useful to have both perspectives.”

“What is it? A special edition of Whistledown?” he asked hesitantly. They still hadn’t approached the question of her column, and Colin wasn’t eager to. It filled him with discomfort to think of the risk involved and he still didn’t fully approve of her methods. Meddling in others’ lives could easily lead to unintended consequences.

“No, no. To be honest, I haven’t thought much of the column on our journey. There are too many other lovely things to consider.” She paused, worrying her lip. “I will, of course, respect your opinion on the matter, but I’ve been thinking of writing a romance. A story of friends who fall in love through a secret correspondence.” 

She looked at him hopefully, and Colin gestured her toward his lap, seeing that she needed reassurance of his approval. “It’s a delightful idea, Pen,” he said, squeezing her tightly. “And it’s inspired by our letters?”

Penelope hesitated, “Well, yes, although I understand that they weren’t love letters, Colin. But I believe I could make it an exciting tale, especially given the impropriety of an unmarried gentleman and lady writing and hiding their activities.” 

He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “So you never wrote to me with romance in your heart? What a pity, for my own would beat faster every time I saw my name written in your hand.”

Penelope flushed, and her long lashes fluttered coyly. Colin knew when he was being invited to kiss her, and he wasted no time in doing so. Her soft lips spoke of passion and love against his, and he never wanted the feeling to end. When she pulled away and leaned her head against his chest, the sense of belonging was overwhelming. This was his dear wife, who believed in him fully and felt inspired by him in return. Together, they would do great things. He was certain of it, and he hoped that she felt the same.

That night, they stopped at a charming inn that was just as lovely as Colin had been led to believe. He was pleased he had asked for recommendations about the journey at his club. One of his old chums had assured him that any wife would find the cozy rooms and scenic location romantic, and Penelope deserved only the best for her first tour as a married woman. A servant had been sent ahead on horseback to claim the best room for them, and he was rewarded for his foresight with a soft gasp when she entered the room. She went directly to the window to take in the dramatic views. He came to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and settling his chin atop her red hair.

“Colin, I can hardly take in the beauty of it. How did you discover this place?”

He grinned impishly. “I have my methods. Everything needed to be perfect for you.”

She turned in his embrace and wrapped her arms around his neck, bouncing on her tiptoes to place a tender kiss on his mouth. 

After their meal, the romantic ambiance of the room had taken over and stirred their passion. Now Penelope was writhing beneath him, begging him to satisfy her. Whenever he thought of what a gorgeous woman he had married, how willing and desirable, he couldn’t help but be thankful that she had been locked out of her room that night at Aubrey Hall. He had almost missed all of this, for who knew what would have become of them otherwise? Would he have had to see her marry another, realizing too late that his heart belonged to his dearest friend? 

Colin lost himself in the rhythm that was becoming their own, reveling in every kiss, every moment when  she took control of their union and showed how very much she wanted him. He loved to say her name as he neared his end, as there could be no sweeter words than reminding himself of who he was with when he felt such pleasure.

As he reached his climax, Penelope gently pushed at his shoulder in her established signal for him to move away. Even as he obeyed, he couldn’t help his disappointment, although he was unsure why he was surprised—she never allowed him to finish inside of her. 

But the rejection panged as he considered the intimacy of traveling together, the way she seemed to let her walls down and enjoy his company, and their growing closeness after the Whistledown revelation. He yearned for a family with her, and he had hoped she would want that too. As they lay there panting, Colin felt suddenly insecure, unsure of whether he could stroke her hair or kiss her cheek as he usually did. 

“We’re married now, Penelope,” he said before he could reconsider. 

Penelope looked over at him and grinned, her cheeks glowing and her eyes bright. “Indeed,” she said cheekily. 

Her light hearted response gave him the courage to ask the question that was burdening him. “Before we were married, I knew why you did not want to risk a child. But now…”

Her eyes flitted away, and he could almost feel an oppressive weight settling over them. “I do want children, you know that. But I require more time to reconcile myself to this.” She gestured between them, meeting his eyes briefly before continuing her focus on the ceiling.

“Is it so terrible to think of me as a father?” he asked quietly. He swallowed roughly to keep his emotions from spilling over. What was so lacking in him that she didn’t wish to carry his child? It must be one of his flaws; for he knew that Penelope adored babies and wanted to be a mother.

“Oh Colin,” she murmured, reaching over to lovingly take his hand. He remembered the warmth that washed over him whenever he led her to the dance floor, her soft touch assuring him that all would be well. Even now, it brought him comfort for they were learning to speak about their concerns instead of holding them alone. He felt her presence despite the discomfort they were both experiencing. “No, of course not. You will be a wonderful father.”

“Are you afraid of childbirth?” he asked, brow furrowing as he tried to puzzle it out. “It would be understandable—“

“Awaiting the arrival of a baby should be a time of joy.” Something about the way he squeezed her hand must have heartened her, for she glanced at it before meeting his eyes bravely. “And I am not yet secure in your affection.”

“I understand because I am not secure in yours either,” he replied after a moment’s pause. “It’s a painful experience, is it not?”

He could not imagine admitting to another woman such feelings. If the gentlemen at the club knew, Colin was sure he would be seen as weak-willed for allowing his wife to see the power she held over him. But somehow, he knew Penelope needed to hear it. They had been making tentative steps toward one another for weeks, and appearing unaffected would not help his cause.

His wife rubbed his hand with her thumb, caressing him in small, reassuring circles and then tracing the lines on his palm. “Perhaps it would have been easier if we were like those married couples who knew little of each other before the wedding day. But you mattered so greatly even before then. I cannot be indifferent to you and sometimes I feel overwhelmed by it.”

He touched her cheek gently, encouraging her to look at him. “Secrets have never served us well, Pen. What are your fears about having a child with me? Perhaps we can face them together.”

Colin’s heart warmed when Penelope motioned for him to sit up against the pillows and straddled his lap to face him. She simply held herself close to him for a moment, breathing in as he did and calming herself. It was surprising how her confidence seemed to blossom when they were in bed, leaving her free to touch him in ways neither of them could have foreseen only months ago. He stroked his hands over the velvety texture of her skin as she considered her words.

“If I give you an heir—many gentlemen take a mistress after their wives provide them with a son,” she said softly. “I know I have no say in it, but I cannot imagine anything more devastating.”

Colin was momentarily speechless and a pit settled in his stomach at the resignation in her voice. “Penelope, of course you have a say in our marriage. I have never even considered such a thing.”

“I believe that you feel that way now,” she said hesitantly. “I only wish for you to understand that it would be very lonely for me—to see you choosing another, to know that you had tired of my company. Perhaps worst of all, to know that I no longer belonged with you, or in our home.”

“Oh, Penelope, no, no, no. You will always belong with me. Always.” He stroked her hair, wishing that she would never doubt how much she meant to him. 

“If you change your mind, perhaps—would you consider allowing me my freedom as well?”

His jaw tightened as he took in her sheepish expression. “What type of freedom are you asking for? You wish to take a lover?”

“No!” Her shock and dismay were evident, but Colin still felt unsettled as she continued to explain. “You are the only one that I want, and that will never change. Of course I will miss you if you stop visiting my bed but— I meant perhaps we could have separate residences while you…entertained others. So that I would not have to witness it. I couldn’t bear to see you glowing with affection for another woman.”

Colin felt sick at her lack of faith in him. She was so certain he would abandon her when he knew such a thing was impossible—he couldn’t survive it, not now that he knew what it was like to be her closest companion.

“Penelope, you are speaking as though a mistress is a foregone conclusion. You are my beautiful wife and best friend. Why would I seek empty dalliances when I could be with you?”

“You only married me because we were forced. And you said that you regretted it after you found out about the column. I would not blame you,” she replied quietly.

“You should blame me. You should expect more from me! I would go mad if I knew you were seeking pleasure with another man, and I can hardly expect you to accept such a betrayal from me. Penelope, you must allow this truth into your heart: I will never knowingly cause you pain.”

They were still holding one another, and Penelope leaned back to look at him seriously. “Nor will I.”

“And I never felt forced to marry you,” he continued urgently. “When I took you to my bedchamber that night, I wanted so desperately to reconcile with you. I wanted to kiss you, wanted to make you mine. I chose you. Even as we fell asleep that night, I knew I would propose the next morning. Do you have any idea of how much I missed you when we weren’t writing or speaking? I cannot live without you, Pen.”

Penelope tucked her head against his shoulder and held onto him tightly. “Thank you for telling me. That fear has been weighing on my heart so heavily.”

“Always tell me your fears, Penelope. These misunderstandings are dreadful, and they keep us from happiness.” He shook his head in frustration but felt himself eased by her finger tracing his jawline soothingly. 

“Colin, do you have fears as well?” She averted her eyes. “This isn’t the only time you’ve questioned me about if I wish to take a lover. Is it because of Whistledown that you think I would be so inconstant?”

Colin’s ears burned and he shrugged, embarrassed that she had noticed. “I suppose I have my own concerns, but I haven’t wished to trouble you with them.” She nuzzled her face into his shoulder in a gesture of comfort, and he felt encouraged to continue. “You were inconsolable at the idea of marrying me. Yet, you seem to enjoy it when we make love. Even that first night. So at times, I wonder if you would prefer to find pleasure with another, one you would have wanted to marry if you had a choice.”

“Colin, no! I fear we are making a muddle of things yet again. For we are both caught in this trap of thinking the other didn’t wish to marry us, or would prefer someone else.”

Colin was heartened by the determined look on Penelope’s face and adored the intimacy of the way she gazed at him, the sheet pooling around her waist and leaving him to appreciate her lovely breasts.  She reached out both hands and held his eyes with her own.

“I was afraid to marry you, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to. Colin, you are the only gentleman I have ever noticed or allowed myself to be close to. That is why I asked you to make love to me, because I wanted to be even closer. But then we were caught, and I was so afraid. You didn’t know about Whistledown, and I didn’t know if you would regret me. Especially after what you said about courting. But never doubt that I love being your wife and have no wish to belong to anyone else. I am thankful every day that we married. And if you say that you are glad to be married to me, it must be the truth. What if we agreed to simply believe one another? Despite our doubts, despite our fears?”

Colin’s eyes sparkled at her as he cupped her cheeks in his hands. “You’re as brilliant as always, Penelope. That’s precisely what we should do.”

“It’s settled then,” she said sweetly, but with an exaggerated air of self-satisfaction. He laughed and then caught her up in a joyous kiss, his heart lighter already.

______

Murray’s wedding was a beautiful affair, and Penelope thought Colin looked dashing in his formal attire. What was more surprising was how at ease she felt among people who didn’t know her. It was an entirely different experience than socializing under the critical eye of her mother and feeling buried under the weight of her family’s reputation. Her debut had been overwhelming with little in the way of helpful guidance, and by the time she found pleasure in the excitement of social events, it was too late to shed her reputation as a wallflower. 

But in Scotland, she was able to make her first impressions as the young bride of Colin Bridgerton, with no one questioning her place at his side or whispering about what she must have done in order to catch him. Many of the guests were staying for a house party on the estate after the wedding, and Penelope was surprised that she enjoyed socializing with the ladies while Colin spent time with his Oxford chums. 

It made her wonder how life might have been different for her if she felt such confidence back in London. Colin’s influence played a large part, for somehow she felt less tongue tied when she could hold his arm as she made a new acquaintance, or caught his warm eyes watching her with approval as she traded barbs with her new friends. Murray and his new wife in particular seemed quite charmed by her and she felt certain a lifelong friendship would blossom among the two couples. She could sense how pleased Colin was with her performance and it was ever so gratifying to feel his pride in her.

Now their visit was coming to an end, and soon they would journey back to England for yet another house party, this time reuniting with Colin’s family at Aubrey Hall. But for tonight, Penelope’s mind was only on her husband. A large ball had been held that night to celebrate the newlyweds one final time before the guests departed. Colin had once again defied convention, claiming dance after dance with Penelope. She didn’t even pretend to resist, for surrendering to her husband’s charms was fast becoming her favorite pastime. 

“I’m shocked by you, Mrs. Bridgerton. You haven’t made a word of protest at the scandalous way I’ve claimed your dance card,” Colin teased.

“On the contrary, Mr. Bridgerton, I find it only right that you should do so,” she replied.

“Is that so?” 

“Indeed,” she said before leaning in so closely that only he would be able to hear her. “For how else are you to touch me as much as I wish with all of these people about?”

She arched her eyebrow at him saucily, and Colin let out a surprised laugh at her boldness in the middle of a ballroom. After that, his hands roamed slightly more freely than could be considered appropriate, but no one else seemed to notice or care. Her body was melting into his whenever they came together in a dance, and while she dreamed of the moment they would finally be alone, she also loved being with him like this. Everything in life was better when they were together.

When they were returning to their room that night, Penelope’s self-control had reached its limit. Her hand was on his arm as he escorted her upstairs, but he wasn’t nearly close enough for her liking, especially when he pulled her close enough to brush her breast against his arm and then flashed her a teasing smirk. He knew by now when she was thinking of him lustfully, and she wouldn’t abide by his taunting. 

Looking around, she pulled him toward an alcove where a bust of some long dead relative held a place of prominence and pushed her husband against the wall. 

“Penelope Bridgerton!” He shook his head in mock disapproval. “Whatever are you doing?”

“Kiss me,” she requested, turning her face up to him, and grasping at his lapels. 

“Not even a please?” 

Colin was looking at her as he used to, before the doubt and hurt had settled in his eyes, and she loved it. His charming boldness, his shameless teasing were part of what initially drew her to him. Lately, he had been more serious, and she knew that she was partly the cause. He had admitted to worrying about their marriage, and it touched her that he cared so. But seeing him this way, light hearted and just a little bit naughty, made her crave him all the more.

Her hands moved to his cravat, tugging just slightly at that dreaded knot that hid his neck from her all day long. “Do you think you deserve a please? You’ve been teasing me.” She perched on her tiptoes and pulled his shoulders toward her, meeting his lips heatedly. 

“Dismiss your valet,” she whispered in his ear when they broke apart. “Your wife shall undress you tonight.”

Penelope could see the tips of Colin’s ears growing red. His bashfulness pleased her, and she wondered idly what else she could do to bring it about once they had more privacy. He seemed to regain himself quickly, however. 

“But what of you, Mrs. Bridgerton? Who will undress you?”

Penelope fixed him with a seductive smile and leaned in to murmur, “I trust you know how to unlace a corset, husband.” 

She traced her hand over his firm stomach and then reached down to grasp him over his pants, caressing him firmly. When Colin groaned with pleasure, Penelope removed her hand and turned away, casting one last coy stare over her shoulder as he followed her down the hallway to their bedchamber.

Chapter Text

Penelope sat at the window seat, gazing out of Colin’s window at Aubrey Hall. A large party had assembled on the estate, and they had arrived at mid-morning, instantly swept into the festivities. Now they were alone for the first time since their arrival, and the ease of their conversation in the carriage these last weeks was but a distant memory. It was unsettling, although she couldn’t immediately explain to herself why. All she knew was that the party was large enough to make her feel put on display, and small enough that she couldn’t sink back into the shadows. And while Colin’s presence generally brought her comfort, she felt undeserving of it. Her husband’s eyes were burning a hole into her side even now, but she felt trapped, unable to connect with him when she couldn’t understand herself.

The rest of their time in Scotland had been idyllic, and the layers of fear and mistrust steadily fell away. Penelope was a lovely travel companion, just as Colin had known she would be. Endlessly curious, endlessly open to new experiences. He wished he had realized it sooner—what he always felt was missing on his tours had been her. But now… he couldn’t reach her. Her lovely profile concealed her true emotions, preventing him from enjoying a sight he had been longing to see: Penelope in the place that had changed everything for them. Visions of being swept up in passion as soon as they saw the bed where they first became one were replaced by this strained silence that had no explanation.

“Do you wish for separate bedchambers?” he asked.

Penelope turned to face him, and his eyes darted away, focusing on an invisible loose thread on the coverlet, not wanting her to see how desperately he hoped she would say no. “I’m certain Kate could arrange it.”

When he looked up, he saw uncertainty, perhaps even hurt, in her eyes instead of the bland indifference he expected. Her mouth had dropped into a little o before she schooled her expression into something more neutral. His own frustration began to bubble up, for now he could tell when she was hiding from him. Why wouldn’t she come to him? And why had she settled herself as far from him in the room as it was possible to be? 

“Have you tired of me?” she finally asked, her voice catching on the question. 

“Of course not!” Colin replied impatiently. “Why must you assume the worst of me?”

“You’re angry at me?” Penelope blinked at him innocently, and he could almost see her clever mind working to identify the problem. “What have I done?”

“It’s nothing, Mrs. Bridgerton ,” he said, his voice like a sharpened blade. “You have been a proper and dutiful wife.”

Penelope bit her lip and shifted uncertainly before rising and approaching the bed. “Please tell me. I cannot bear it when you are angry with me.” 

“You–” Colin broke off, feeling foolish to admit what had been tying his stomach in knots since their arrival. “You’ve not called me Colin all day. Even with my family, you refer to me as ‘Mr. Bridgerton’ or ‘my husband’.” 

Penelope froze in place. Her hands trembled and her eyes were troubled, but then that stiff smile took over her face, the one she had been using all day to disappear. “I am simply being respectful.”

The sting of rejection was too much. Colin couldn't bear the pain of it; not when he had been filled with such hope in Scotland. Could anything be worse than this disappointment?

“Why do you insist on calling me that? I want you to say my name!” he exclaimed. 

“I find it necessary,” she said evasively.

“Why? So I know you haven’t forgiven me? That you’re still angry? You can’t continue pushing me away!” He tried to keep his tone even and his voice calm, but the heat of his indignation was seeping through against his will. Penelope paced back and forth in agitation, still within arm’s length but beyond his reach in every way that mattered.

“I’m calling you Mr. Bridgerton because I feel too close to you!” she burst out.

“What?” It was the one thing she could have said to give him pause, for Colin was completely dumbfounded.

“I’m not punishing you,” she said adamantly.

“Then what are you doing, Penelope? I’m utterly confused—we were having such a lovely trip, and now we’re back where we started.” 

“I’m only trying to prevent myself from being hurt.” The look she gave him was anguished, and his heart clenched. She was still so afraid when he had been certain that they were restoring trust day by day. “Scotland was a fantasy. Here, with your family, with the ton, this is real! You may touch me gently, and laugh with me. You may even give me children. But I will always be Penelope, the wallflower, the one who does not count! And I must remind myself of that every chance I can so that you do not crush me completely.”

“I have no notion of destroying you,” he said furiously. “And every intention of caring for you! But this is not the way forward for us.” 

Despite everything, she still acted as though Colin was the only one capable of harm. It was unfair and vexing, and damn it, it hurt . He deliberately paused, determined to tell her the truth, but wanting to calm his building frustration. Penelope’s arms were crossed, hugging herself protectively. Even that couldn’t hide the way her hands shook and her lip quivered with emotion. She looked small and afraid and utterly miserable.

Colin continued, much more quietly this time. “Penelope, you have the power to destroy us too. With your secret-keeping, the deliberate distancing. Do you have any notion of how badly I wish to know my wife? How lonely I feel when you retreat from me?” 

Penelope’s blue eyes widened, and tender concern replaced the false reserve that he despised. She reached for him, settling in his lap, but he kept his arms stiff at his sides, not wrapping them around her as he usually would. He couldn’t pretend that all was well when he felt so insecure in her affection. Despite his lack of response, she cupped his face between her hands, placing light kisses on his cheeks, his brow, the corner of his mouth. When she leaned close enough that he could feel her warm breath against his lips, he sighed and pushed her away by the shoulders.

“All you want from me is this,” Colin gestured to the bed. “Do I exist to you outside of a bedchamber? It’s the only time you look at me!”

Penelope appeared stricken as she removed herself from his lap. She didn’t rush away as he feared though. Instead, she knelt by his feet, tentatively placing her hand on his knee as she leaned against the bed. 

“I’m sorry. I’m not—that isn’t what I meant—”

“I can’t even think of making love when I feel like this,” he cut in accusingly. “You’re acting like a stranger.” Her tiny caresses on his knee continued, and he knew she was trying to soothe him. He felt torn between the part of him that wanted his wife’s comfort no matter what and the part of him that needed more from her.

“Colin, let me try to explain. Allow me a moment to think.”

He waited in silence for several minutes, at times wishing to get up and stalk out of the room, and at others trying to trust in her goodwill. Colin remembered his mother’s advice about Penelope’s youth and penchant for making mistakes. He remembered too that he had encouraged Penelope to express her desire for him, and she must feel rather vulnerable after he turned her away so harshly. 

“I don’t want you to be lonely, but I can’t find the words. When we touch, it's easier for me to show you.” 

When she looked up at him so sweetly, he simply had to stroke her creamy cheek, watching the color rise so beautifully. She was upset by their quarrel too; he could see it. She was fighting back tears and no longer seemed so far away. That meant that she must care at least a little, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted all of her. 

“You have the words, Penelope, just none for your husband. You shared your views in your column constantly. And you wrote pages and pages of your new novel on our journey here; I could see you composing it in your head at times. Yet you have nothing to say to me, although I’ve always loved hearing your thoughts,” he said sadly.

“You want my words?” she asked earnestly. He nodded and she lay her head against his thigh, hiding her eyes from him. He could feel the rhythm of her breath, the way she exhaled when he began stroking his fingers lightly through her hair. He was familiar by now with the way Penelope would gather herself thoughtfully before revealing something that scared her. “About what?”

“Anything. Anything you feel or want or know. You have so much to say, Penelope, and I want to hear all of it.”

Her steady breath continued as she nuzzled her cheek against his leg, comforting both of them in the silence.

“I felt lonely too.” It was so quiet it was barely a whisper, and Colin had to strain to hear it.

“When?” 

“In my home since I was a child. When I debuted, I knew that I would never meet anyone’s expectations, yet I must be put on display.” She hesitated, and Colin squeezed her shoulder, encouraging her with his steady presence. “Watching you court Marina. Losing my father and knowing you would be gone on your tour for months. When Eloise stopped speaking to me and you scorned me, all in one night. I have been alone so often but it never stops hurting.”

“You’re right. It never stops,” Colin offered.

“When have you felt lonely?” she asked, turning her head so she could look up at him again. He reached for her hand and squeezed it, wanting to unite with her again, hoping she knew that he would only ever share these thoughts with the one he cared for the most.

“Growing up amongst so many talented siblings, but having no purpose of my own. Trying to smile and jest when my father died, to cheer my mother when she was so grief-stricken. Being sent off to Eton for the first time. Wandering the Continent after I failed my engagement and having to pretend I had a marvelous time when I returned. And most of all, when you would not write or see or speak to me.”

They remained in comfortable silence for some time, Penelope occasionally pressing her cheek against his leg or running her hands in caresses over his thighs. Colin allowed her time, thinking of all they had both shared with one another. 

“I hate being amongst the ton like this,” Penelope finally confessed. “Before, I could hide in corners, but now, everyone gawks at me because I am your wife. They believe that you must have married me out of pity, and they pity you for being trapped by me. And I have no Whistledown to distract me from my thoughts.”

“But why push me away? You should be turning to me, allowing me to ease your troubles.” He reached out his hand and pulled her up, settling her in his lap and wrapping her up in his arms.

“When I see their reactions, I remember I’m not worthy of you. I feel foolish for thinking a gentleman as highly regarded as you could ever care for someone like me,” she admitted. “When we were in Scotland, it felt as though we were equals, and now I’m reminded of how friendless I really am.”

“The ton is full of mindless sheep,” Colin said firmly. “I would not trade you for the world, Penelope, for I see your value. We are equals, and no husband could treasure his wife more than I do.

“Perhaps we could speak to my mother and Kate to see if they have any ideas for navigating the social season. They admire you greatly and would be pleased to do so. Eloise is a dear friend to you, but she is perhaps… less than helpful if your desire is to feel more accepted in society.”

“Would you, Colin? I don’t wish to be a bother but–”

“It is no bother at all. You are a Bridgerton now, and this loneliness will never do.” He frowned then and continued firmly, “Anyone who treats you poorly will answer to me.”

She smiled a little at his affronted tone, knowing full well from previous encounters with Cressida Cowper that Colin meant it. She rather pitied anyone who tested his resolve.

“But Penelope, please. Don’t allow them to spoil our happiness. We know what we mean to one another and what a delight it is to be in each other’s company. Let’s face them together. Isn’t that better than Whistledown?”

“Of course you are right, husband, as you so often are.” He preened a little at the compliment, making her laugh, but was even more gladdened by the light he saw returning to Penelope’s face. “And Colin, the months since our marriage have been the happiest I’ve ever known. Loneliness can’t haunt me the way that it did before, because I have you.”

“Always,” he murmured in her ear. The relief was overwhelming, for he was assured yet again that he had her too. He wanted her to feel assured of his affection for her. “Stand up, Pen,” he ordered quietly. “And turn around.”

She glanced back over her shoulder at him as he began to remove her clothing and unlace her stays. He pulled her hair to the side, kissing along her neck and giving close attention to that creamy shoulder when it was revealed.

“I thought you didn’t want me,” she said breathlessly, now entirely nude before him. Her eyes followed his every movement as he traced her body with his hands. 

“I always want you,” he replied firmly, “but I need all of you. Your body and your words and your heart.” His hand pressed against that spot on her chest where he could faintly feel the thudding of her pulse. 

“You have all of me,” she murmured, beginning to remove his clothes as well. He reached for her then, their lips meeting passionately as her hands worked over his buttons, shedding all the layers that separated them. He had fantasized about their first encounter so many times, each recollection sweeter than the last now that she was really his wife. She climbed into his lap, joining them with a contented sigh.

“Promise me, Pen. The first time I had you in this bed, I didn’t know you were mine. Not truly.” When he cupped her breasts possessively, she arched into his hands, and he nearly came undone from the sight alone. Moving his hands to her hips, he intended to guide her, but she set a slow rhythm on her own, seeming to savor the fullness of it.

“I’m yours, Colin. I promise.” 

He groaned at the feel of her, the way her hands grasped his shoulders and the practiced movements designed for both of their pleasure. She knew him so well now, what brought heat to that place deep in his belly and what he most longed to hear to fill that empty place within him that needed her understanding.

“Tell me again that I own your heart,” he urged. “Like you did in the carriage.” 

Her hips moved smoothly against him, and he began meeting her forcefully, his hands caressing her bottom. He could see from her expression that she was close now, but her eyes had widened at his request.

“You own my heart,” she said, staring into his eyes, more naked in her honesty than she had ever been with him before. He leaned in to kiss her again, but she threw her head back in pleasure before he could, crying out “Colin!” as she shook with her release. 

He almost forgot himself and came within her at the sight, the sheer ecstasy of knowing she cared for him and the bliss of their physical union exciting him beyond anything. But he swiftly laid her against the bed before he could do any such thing, groaning as he let go of his own inhibitions.

She placed kisses against his chest as he recovered, looking up at him occasionally with that adoring look that he yearned for.

“Pen, will you say it again?” he asked softly.

She flushed but laced his fingers through hers and pulled their joined hands to her chest. “Colin, you own my heart.”

Pure happiness overtook him and he smiled at her, noticing that she was able to meet his eyes without hesitation. 

“Were those the words you needed from me, Colin?”

He nodded and she pulled him close so he could settle his head against her chest, in exactly the place he loved to be.

______

Sunlight was streaming in the window, and Penelope had already left for her morning promenade with Kate and his mother as Colin awoke. He was pleased to see that they had taken Penelope under their care as he had requested. Penelope was slowly building her confidence as they guided her through socializing with the ladies in the party. Daphne’s status as a Duchess carried much weight in society, and she had been informed of Penelope’s social difficulties in order to assist her new sister-in-law. Colin could already see subtle shifts in the way Penelope was included by the group, and as she grew more comfortable in her acceptance, her personality was able to shine brighter. She was a lovely conversationalist, and he hoped that with time she would cultivate a wider circle of friends. 

He was learning to interpret her glances as well, noticing when she wished to be rescued with an offer of lemonade or a request for her assistance. And at night, she would lie in his arms and they would confide in one another about the day, sometimes laughing at the foibles of his family and at other times opening up about the small cuts that were inevitable in company. Colin took pride in the way Penelope received his comfort when her feelings were bruised. And he had never felt so free to share his own concerns with another. Colin could still feel Anthony’s disapproval of his conduct with Penelope rolling off him in waves, and he needed her grounding influence to prevent him from sinking further into his insecurities. Anthony never spoke of it directly to Penelope, but Colin noticed how frequently she would point out his strengths as a husband when his elder brother was in earshot. It always made him smile to see how smoothly she managed it without being obvious, and he wondered if Penelope didn’t give herself enough credit for the social graces she possessed.

He stretched his arm out in bed and that was when he found the note. He examined the neatly folded parchment with his name written on it in Penelope’s familiar hand and opened it with interest.

Dearest Colin,

Do you ever lie in this bed and think of how it changed our lives? How grateful I am at times like these for that locked door. You look ever so handsome with your hair mussed up against the pillow in the mornings. I can never resist feeling it between my fingers despite the risk of waking you. Perhaps now is a good time to remind you that you own my heart.

I didn’t want to leave you this morning, but I had to maintain my respectability, such as it is. Promise me that when we return home, we’ll spend the first morning in bed doing nothing but enjoying one another.

Yours,

Pen

A grin crept across his face as he read the note again and again. He rather liked receiving a love note from his wife.

The day was busy as he spent it engaged in sport with the other gentleman, but not even Anthony’s disapproving comments or Benedict’s teasing remarks could keep the happiness from his eyes whenever he thought of it. 

When he went up to dress for dinner, he was disappointed to learn that Penelope had already dressed and was ensconced in Eloise’s room. While he was happy that they seemed to be returning to their formerly close friendship, he missed her. He stood in front of the mirror, examining his appearance as he wanted it to be perfect for the moment he saw Penelope downstairs. As he patted his pockets absently, he felt a bit of parchment and pulled it out, only too delighted to find another note from his wife.

Dearest Colin,

I missed you today, my darling. But your sisters are so good to me, and I’m pleased to call them my family now. 

I thought of you often, as I know time with Anthony has been a trial since our engagement. Never forget what a fine man you are and how fortunate your entire family is to have you. As for myself, I couldn’t ask for a better husband. Were you aware that you own my heart?

Yours,

Pen

When they met in the drawing room, Penelope had a secretive smile just for him as he presented her with a bouquet of flowers he’d gathered himself from the garden. She no longer protested when he paid her such attentions, and he was pleased that she was able to ignore the whispers from other guests about how besotted Mr. Bridgerton was with his young wife. As for himself, he cared not a whit for their opinions as long as Penelope was happy.

Colin began to look forward to those surprising moments when he would discover another love note. They often arrived at the times he needed them most, for house parties were rather tiresome for him as well the longer they stretched on.

Now he was leading her along a familiar path in the woods near Aubrey Hall. Colin had begged off a day of fishing with the other men and made Penelope’s excuses to Kate as well.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked curiously.  

“One of my favorite places to come as a child. I want to share it with you,” he replied.

Finally, they entered a quiet clearing in the forest. Colin led her to a blanket and cushions that he had brought to the area earlier with his valet as an accomplice. She reclined back against the nest he had arranged as Colin began to unpack a basket from the kitchen.

“A private picnic?” Penelope asked in a delighted voice.

“Yes, and a strawberry picking party in one. I found a patch of them here as a boy and never told my siblings, for you know how fond I am of berries.” He puffed out his chest proudly. “You’re not the only one skilled in keeping secrets. Especially when it comes to food.”

Penelope let out her tinkling laugh and Colin grinned. It felt so good to be able to tease about their proclivities, taking the power from what had been so hurtful even recently. 

“Do you wish to know another secret?” Penelope asked him with such an innocent expression on her face that Colin’s heart began to race immediately, for he knew his wife’s mischievous nature well by now. She pulled him down so he was laying against the cushions as well, and leaned in close so she could whisper in his ear, “I’ve always wondered what it would be like if you were to take me outdoors.”

“What a coincidence,” Colin whispered back. “That’s one of my secrets as well.”

Their picnic was forgotten as Colin lost himself in feasting on Penelope under her skirts instead. Her movement was limited by her corset, and Colin couldn’t reach all of his favorite parts of her body, but somehow the restrictions made their interlude feel all the more illicit and exciting. 

“Shhh,” Colin soothed as Penelope huffed in frustration at not being able to move her hips as freely as she wished. He was inside of her now after bringing her off once with his mouth. She protested at his agonizingly slow pace, but Colin was savoring having her at his mercy. “Allow me to take care of you.”

“But Colin, I want more,” she pleaded, squirming again underneath him. She felt almost frantic with desire, the blue sky above him and the fresh air reminding her that they could be discovered at any moment. He was working his way in and out of her as if he owned her, knowing exactly which angle would hit the spot that left her mindless with need.

He began murmuring in her ear, taunting her in the commanding tone she loved. “Patience, Penelope. You can’t expect me to rush when I have such a beautiful woman’s legs wrapped around me. Your breasts are bouncing each time I enter you. Did you know that?”

She moaned, reaching down to grab onto his bottom and pull him toward her more roughly, but he resisted, continuing at the same steady pace despite her greedy hands.

“Someone will see us,” she whimpered. “They’ll see you thrusting between my legs and know that you ruined me.” 

Colin groaned at the thought. “Don’t you want them to see? You have a jealous streak after all.”

“Is it very wicked of me?” Penelope asked innocently. “I only want them to know you’re mine.”

Colin couldn’t believe she admitted to such a thing, and it made him all the more determined to make her cry out with pleasure. He hooked her leg over his shoulder, finally giving in to his need to take her as hard as he could. She rewarded his efforts with those breathy cries that let him know she was close to falling over the edge. 

“It is wicked of you, Penelope. You’re wanton, always wishing to make love. Even when we were unmarried, you demanded that I please you.” He was taking her roughly now, adoring the way her hands clawed at his back with need.

“I need you, Colin,” she moaned. “It's your fault I need you this much.” She threw her head back, arching as close to him as she could given her position pinned beneath his punishing hips. He was getting so very close himself, and he wanted to satisfy her before he did so. He reached a hand between them and began touching her in teasing circles that rendered her speechless.

“You wanted me to be the one to touch you this way, didn’t you, Penelope? I’m the only one who knows how to please you.”

“Yes!” she cried, and as she shook, Colin pulled away so he could take his pleasure as well. 

She watched him lazily as he righted his clothing and rearranged her skirts so she was properly covered again. He lay on his side next to her, propping his head on his hand.

“Shall I fetch you some berries? You look content to rest a while longer.” 

At her smiling agreement, he went to gather the strawberries, feeling much like a knight on a quest to earn his lady’s favor. They lay eating and talking for a while, often finding themselves distracted by kisses and wandering hands, but content to simply be together. 

Finally, Penelope sighed. “I suppose we must return to prepare for the ball.”

“Should I be offended that my favorite dance partner is reluctant to attend a ball with me?” he teased.

Penelope shook her head laughingly as he stood and reached out his hands to help her up. “Our dances shall be the highlight of the evening,” she said sweetly.

“I hoped that spending time alone this afternoon would lift your spirits,” he admitted.

“It has, truly. You are the kindest of husbands.”

They began walking back arm in arm, and Penelope appeared to be wrestling with her thoughts. Colin was on the verge of asking her to confide in him when she squeezed his arm.

“May I speak to you about Lady Whistledown? If you aren’t ready, I will respect your decision.” She looked up at him hopefully as they continued their progress down the path.

Colin considered it carefully, and realized that he was no longer afraid to discuss it. Penelope had been trying so very hard to share her thoughts and feelings with him, and he wanted to honor that trust. He knew now that his wife genuinely valued him and their relationship, so the notion of Whistledown mattering to her as well felt less threatening.

“I’m finding it difficult to imagine writing the column again, and I feel at somewhat of a loss. Even before our… discussion it was more challenging to gather information as a Bridgerton. My effectiveness depended on my invisibility. I’ve gathered from the house party that its absence has already been noted, so it seems wise to take advantage of the moment.”

“What did you have in mind?” 

“I have sources in London as well as at the other two prestigious house parties that are occurring. If I were to write a final column including gossip from all three, and also announce my retirement, it would be less likely that I could be connected to Lady Whistledown. There are so many other scandal sheets that I believe she will be quickly forgotten.” She gave a little shrug as Colin considered her plan.

“It’s a sound strategy, although I hope you know the column will not be quickly forgotten. You, my dear, caused quite the stir. I’m proud of you.” 

She smiled at him so gratefully, yet Colin knew he was telling the truth. As her husband, he was surprised to feel a sense of loss on Penelope’s behalf, despite his relief. She had, after all, worked very hard on her writing and succeeded beyond her wildest hopes. He had silently determined that he would never forbid her from continuing, for that went against all of his principles. But still, it would be much easier if it weren’t an ongoing source of tension and worry in their relationship.

“I’m sorry that you feel unsettled. The column was a large part of your life, and I imagine it's difficult to let that go,” he replied sincerely.

“It gave me a sense of purpose; filled a void when I had no one,” she admitted. “And yet, it no longer fits. I’m a wife now, and I’m no longer alone. For I not only have you, but your family. And I hope someday that we will have our own children. I don’t wish to put them at risk or leave them without a mother if the worst were to happen.”

Colin’s stomach swooped at the mention of children, but now wasn’t the time to press her for a decision. Instead, he considered carefully what she might be feeling. “And yet, as much as you are cared for now, you still long for a challenge and a direction.”

Penelope stopped short and turned to face him. “Yes! That’s precisely how I feel. I know you’ve experienced the same emptiness in the past, despite how lovely your family is. I am so happy being your wife, and I want to enjoy social events with you, not simply use them as fodder for my columns. But I can’t give up writing entirely, for I love that too.”

“What of your epistolary idea? Perhaps a career as a novelist would fit better in this new phase of your life?”

Penelope gave a small shrug and looked up at him sheepishly. “I suppose I wonder if anyone will read it.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head against his chest. “It's frightening to try something new.” 

Colin rubbed his hands over her back soothingly and nodded against her hair. “I understand. But I propose a bargain that may be mutually beneficial.”

She looked up at him, lifting an eyebrow in question.

Now Colin felt his own heart pounding harder, scarcely able to believe he was suggesting this. “What if we were to prepare our manuscripts together, and then send letters of inquiry to publishers at the same time?” 

Penelope’s entire face lit up. “You’re going to be an enormous success with your travel journals! I simply know it!” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to press enthusiastic kisses all over his face as he laughed. 

“So am I to understand you approve?”

“I more than approve! I think it's the most brilliant idea you’ve ever had!” 

Colin could feel himself practically glowing at her joy—merely the idea of his work being published seemed to make her giddy. Penelope believed in him completely and utterly, and it made it so much easier to believe in himself. Now he wished to return the favor as she embarked on something new. 

“And I think your novel will be brilliant, because you’ve always been a witty writer, but what the ton truly appreciates is your insight into human nature. How could your book be anything but stunning?”

“Thank you, darling. It means everything to me that you think so.” She bit her lip, certain that she may anger him with the other aspect she had been considering. “But Colin, I would like to publish under my own name. It’s exhausting to have so many secrets. How would you feel if others knew your wife was a writer? And would your family approve?”

Colin paused, knowing that Anthony would require some convincing. Perhaps even Daphne, for she was somewhat traditional in her views. Ultimately though, he would support his wife, regardless of his family’s opinion on the matter. She was the most important person in his life now, and her talent was too great to diminish.

“I support you fully, darling. If my family has concerns, I will address them and be proud to do so.”

She kissed him again, more gently this time, but just as full of feeling as before. “Colin, you're—I—” She stopped, seemingly at a loss for words, or perhaps just feeling unprepared for the consequences of what she truly wished to say.

“Yes?” he asked leadingly.

“You’re my best friend,” she finally settled on, gazing into his eyes with such affection that Colin felt almost certain she meant something else entirely. He cupped her cheek and stroked it gently with his thumb, wondering what she would do if he confessed his love. It must be soon, but he feared telling her and not being believed. Building her trust was a painstaking effort, and he wished to proceed as gently as she needed, for she was worth it. 

“You’re mine as well, and so much more besides,” he answered. “My best friend, my wife, my lover. I adore you, Pen.”

She flushed and buried her face in his coat so he could embrace her again while she gathered herself. Then he laced his fingers through hers and they walked back to the house together.

Chapter Text

It was a ball like any other, but Penelope experienced it as if it were her first. Now that she had spoken the words out loud to Colin, that she truly wished to retire, she could finally begin to let go of Lady Whistledown. For the first time since her debut, she could simply socialize as she wished without a thought to scandal or gossip.

Her efforts to befriend the other ladies staying at Aubrey Hall were beginning to bear fruit thanks to the assistance of Colin’s family. 

Her family now. 

She smiled a little to herself as she reflected on how wholeheartedly they had accepted her. The Bridgertons had always been kind, but now she was truly family. As they signaled their appreciation of her, other ladies had begun to follow suit, including her in conversations and inviting her to promenade in the garden. While she would always treasure Eloise, for theirs was a rare friendship, feeling less reliant on her for companionship made it easier for Penelope to share herself more fully. Before, it seemed catastrophic if Eloise didn’t agree with one of her opinions, for she always feared being forsaken if she upset her. Now her confidence was increasing as she shared different facets of her personality with new friends as well as old.

Penelope had been speaking to Kate in the corner when Colin approached her. He still stole her breath when he donned his formal attire, and tonight was no exception. There were times when she still couldn’t believe that such a handsome gentleman was her husband, and that he could look at her with such evident admiration. Tonight she was wearing a gown of sky blue especially for him, as it was his favorite. Earlier that evening, she had tucked a little note in his jacket, and she smiled to see him unconsciously pat his pocket as they made eye contact.

Darling, 

Nothing gives me such a thrill at a ball as when you ask me to step onto the floor. There can be no finer partner than you, either in a dance or in this life.

My heart is yours.

Pen

“May I have this dance?” he asked gallantly and took her hand as she nodded. “This one is my favorite. I requested it especially for us.”

She beamed up at him as they took their places, but her smile froze as the music began. The steps were too familiar, and the room began to feel smaller and smaller even as his arms steadied her.

“What is it, Pen?” Colin asked as they finished the first turn. His brow furrowed as he watched her, disappearing before his very eyes, as far away as she was the last time they were at Aubrey Hall. She was trying, he reminded himself. But that didn’t make it any less painful when she pulled away from him.

“I hadn’t realized—I suppose I don’t care for this dance anymore.” She was lost in thought, remembering her giddy hopefulness after dancing with Colin at the Featherington Ball. You are special to me. And then her whole life fell apart in a matter of minutes. 

“Oh,” said Colin, and his hurt voice penetrated the shell that Penelope was constructing over her heart even as they continued to move through the steps. 

Thankfully, the dance required another turn and Penelope was able to avoid his eyes for a moment to think. As much as her mind pulled her toward the painful memories, she reminded herself that her husband was here and needed her. Colin had been reaching out to her over and over again, and she owed it to him to do the same. It’s not like it was before , she reminded herself. He is your husband and he cares for you.

“May we begin again?” she asked quietly when they came back together. “I can’t allow my dear husband to feel alone while we dance. Especially when he is my favorite dance partner.” 

Colin pulled her toward him to dance more closely than was strictly proper. They were silent, but she forced herself to stay in the present, allowing herself to enjoy his touch, especially the way his thumb brushed against her wedding ring whenever he took her hands. After a few minutes, she was able to smile at him brightly, and the relief in his eyes was evident.

“Will you join me in the garden?” he asked as the dance ended. “Perhaps some fresh air is in order.”

She nodded, and he led her to the refreshment table so he could fetch them drinks to take outside. Penelope followed him through the double glass doors out into the starry night. She admired how romantic the gardens of Aubrey Hall felt in the dark. The cool breeze was light as they walked under draping arbors and past bubbling fountains. When she lingered here in the past, it was to listen for gossip, but now her dashing husband had stolen her away. 

It wasn’t that she regretted their passion, for it had led to a happiness with Colin that she never truly thought was possible. But a part of her still fretted about the speculation her hasty marriage had raised, for her husband’s sake. Colin had reassured her only last night that when no early baby arrived, it would be forgotten.

It felt slightly scandalous to be alone in the garden, married though they were. A couple sneaking away together and returning slightly rumpled was not entirely proper, although the indiscretion would only be whispered about afterwards. 

Her husband led her to a bench among the roses, in view of the house but away from the lanterns that cast warm circles of light down the pathways. They sat for a moment side by side, and Penelope realized as she took a sip of the glass he offered that she was holding champagne instead of lemonade. She supposed it was appropriate, for she was a wife and a woman now. Somehow it always caught her by surprise when Colin saw her that way, but how could it be otherwise? Day by day, they seemed to be growing into new versions of themselves, together. 

When they left London, she wouldn’t have imagined confiding in Colin after her reaction to their dance, but now it felt only natural. Penelope wanted to share herself with him, to allow him into the softest places. For every time she did, she was buoyed again by his support, his understanding—how utterly safe she was with him.

“I always dreamed of you reaching for my hand and pulling me to a secluded part of the garden,” she said quietly.

“Why, Miss Featherington, how scandalous!” Colin shifted closer to her on the bench so that they were sitting pressed together. “And what did you hope would happen once I did?” He looked at her mischievously, and Penelope couldn’t help but be amused by the direction his thoughts were taking.

She shook her head and giggled. “I hate to disappoint you, but my fantasies were rather innocent. Often, I thought of you taking my hand and kissing it gallantly. At my most daring, I wondered what it would be like if you caught me up in an embrace.” 

She flushed at the confession, and Colin knew it was because she was handing him another piece of her heart, one that had been the source of both pain and pleasure.

“I feel honored that I was the subject of your daydreams, Pen,” he said seriously, lifting her hand and placing a heated kiss on the back, just as she had hoped for at all those balls before. 

“I told myself so many times that it was impossible.” She tilted her head thoughtfully as she looked up at him. “And others confirmed it—that you would never see me as a woman.”

Colin wanted to know who had told her such lies—he was angry that their poison had made it more difficult to trust him—but mostly he wanted her to know how untrue it was.

“On the contrary, you are the only woman I see.” 

He lifted her chin up and pressed his lips against hers, wishing she could feel the fire that she lit inside him with her presence. His hand slid to her throat, caressing that graceful curve and making her gasp. He deepened the kiss, forgetting their surroundings, losing himself in his wife. When he pulled away, they were both breathing heavily, and despite her experience, Penelope looked almost shy.

“Did that live up to your daydreams?” he asked in a low tone.

She flushed and nodded. Colin leaned over to whisper in her ear. “Penelope, those dreams you had of me are nothing to be ashamed of. When I learn how often you thought of me then, I feel like the most fortunate of gentlemen. That you notice me, that you care for me—I need to know those things.”

“I felt like a ninny most of the time with my girlish dreams,” Penelope said sheepishly. “Our dance at my family’s ball was the first time I wondered if you might see me as I saw you. And then I felt so foolish afterwards.” She paused, looking up at him. “I got lost in the past just now, rather than allowing myself to enjoy the present. I’m sorry for pulling away.”

“I’m sorry it brought up painful memories, but may I tell you why it is my favorite?”

“Of course.”

“I remember that dance too. The way you looked at me—I had never felt anything like it. As though you saw every part of me and approved of it. I never wish to forget it.”

Penelope laced her fingers through his and smiled at him softly. “I will always look at you that way.” 

“And I will never stop being grateful that you do,” he said, kissing her hand. Distant laughter from the ball drifted across the grounds, but for them the world consisted only of each other. 

“There was a moment like that for me as well,” Penelope ventured. “A time when you looked at me and my heart stopped.”

Colin raised his eyebrows at her, encouraging her to continue.

“Do you remember returning home after your first tour? When you entered the drawing room and you saw me, it was as though there was no one else there.”

Colin smiled at her tenderly. “You noticed that, did you? I had never been so nervous in your presence, and secretly I wished for everyone to leave so we could speak. Now that I understand my feelings and yours, it was perhaps wiser that we weren’t left alone,” he said with a cheeky wink.

“Do you truly believe it had started even then?” she asked shyly.

“I’m certain of it. I know at times you feel shy at admitting how you thought of me then, but have you considered that my behavior nurtured your feelings? All of the letters I wrote to you, sharing my innermost thoughts? How I sought you out in every room, and looked at you as a gentleman looks upon a beautiful woman? You weren’t confused, you were being courted, rather poorly, without either of us being aware of it.”

Penelope thought of that dance, of all the emotions that had coursed through her that night. The highest hope followed by crushing disappointment, the world suddenly turning dark and lonely after being filled with such brightness. But Colin had been experiencing an awakening of his own. Knowing that having her in his arms had meant something to him too colored her view of the memory yet again. Perhaps each moment together was that way, their differing perspectives of the past, the present, and the future layering over one another to create a bond that was complicated but always beautiful.

 ______

Penelope lay back, enjoying the sunshine on her face despite hearing her mother’s voice in her head scolding her for risking freckles. It had been a tiresome morning. Eloise was quite put out by her efforts to befriend the other ladies, not understanding why on earth Penelope would wish to do such a thing. After all, they had one another, didn’t they? 

What Penelope found difficult to explain was that while she dearly loved her best friend, she wished to see who she could be in other friendships. Perhaps with other newly married ladies who did not think any mention of Colin dull, perhaps friendships where she was not so very much the submissive party. No one could ever replace Eloise, but she was beginning to see that she need not hide herself so fully from everyone merely to protect herself. 

She had found the loveliest quiet spot to read on a previous visit to Aubrey Hall. It was tucked away in a corner of the garden, and the best part was that bushes concealed it from view. Penelope loved to retreat there when the noise and fuss of a house party became too much. It was not entirely ladylike to be seated upon the ground in such a way, hiding like a child from her friend and the other guests. But Penelope rather felt she deserved some solitude, and as the warm breeze ruffled her hair, she couldn’t regret her decision. 

Voices carrying across the lawn broke through the serenity, and Penelope nearly groaned at her poor luck. Then her heart leapt when she heard Colin’s voice among them. Perhaps he was coming to find her. 

She was about to rise and greet her husband when she heard Lord Fife’s voice as well. No one else could have forced her back into the shadows more quickly. Ever since that night, when he asked Colin about her in that taunting voice, when he laughed at her as though she were nothing, she couldn’t help but hate the man. She had wasted no time in exposing his rakish ways in Whistledown to warn off other innocent ladies who may be taken in as Miss Goring had. 

Making matters worse, Lord Cho was with them as well. She felt no true malice toward the man, but neither did she respect him.  He followed Fife around like a lovesick poodle, chortling mindlessly at his jokes and mimicking his mannerisms. Colin must have been guilted into entertaining the gentlemen by Kate or Anthony, for she knew he didn’t consider them friends. 

Nothing could induce her to announce her presence now. She avoided them whenever it wouldn’t be shockingly rude to do so. Lord Fife still managed to examine her mockingly, his eyes trailing back and forth between Penelope and Colin with an incredulity that was rather humiliating. She had practice skulking about as Lady Whistledown, so she watched through the bushes as they set up to fence in a nearby clearing. 

She allowed herself a moment to take in her husband’s shapely form, admiring the way his bottom filled out his fencing attire so nicely. Perhaps she could arrange to happen upon him in their bedchamber before he changed. Stripping off that white shirt and easing the breeches from his thighs would be immensely satisfying.

Penelope was able to focus on her book again as they began speaking of the hunt occurring later in the week and other such matters that held little interest for her. She felt rather sorry for her husband as she could hear the forced cheer in his voice; he really only participated in such sport to please Anthony. And while he was a gracious host, his laughter at Fife’s weak humor seemed to grow increasingly difficult to summon. 

For a time all she could hear was the clash of their foils, along with the heavy grunts gentlemen seemed inclined to make when exerting themselves. Then her husband let out a triumphant laugh and she peered through the bushes to see the cause.  Fife was breathing heavily at the end of Colin’s foil and a wicked smirk came to her as she watched. Terrible man, he deserved to be bested. He was glaring at Colin now and Penelope suspected he was one of those horribly competitive men who couldn’t accept a loss with grace.

As Colin walked away to pour a drink, Fife called out casually, “How is married life, Bridgerton? My condolences, by the way.”

Colin turned back with a forced look of calm on his face. “Pardon me?” he asked, and Penelope shivered at his tone. 

Fife seemed to take no notice of the displeasure on her husband’s face, or perhaps he simply didn’t care. “What a shame when you had your pick of the debutantes. We all know you didn’t want her.”

Penelope’s heart beat wildly. The mortification of it made her feel ill– her husband’s desirability compared to her own was no secret, and yet he had assured her again and again that he cared nothing for others' opinions. Colin’s expression froze on his face and she could see his hand flexing against the hilt of his weapon.

“On the contrary, Mrs. Bridgerton is the only lady I could imagine marrying,” Colin said in a tight voice. “I adore my wife.”

“I suppose after that wretched engagement to Lady Crane it would be comforting to find a woman so grateful for your affection,” Fife said in a mocking tone. “And I suppose she has her…charms.” He made a hand motion that Penelope couldn’t see from her vantage point but from the way Colin’s eyes flashed with anger, she imagined it was a lewd one. “Tell me, how far in your cups were you the first time you tupped her?”

The insult stung but worst of all was the shame she felt at being spoken of this way in front of the man she loved. It was humiliating to think that Colin could only want her if he wasn’t in his right senses, that he was hearing exactly what most of the ton thought of her. But instead of appearing embarrassed, her husband looked positively menacing, his face a rigid mask of anger. Colin advanced toward the middle of the clearing in long strides and even Lord Fife seemed startled by his aggressive stance.

“Step aside, Cho. I believe Fife and I must come to an understanding. He is challenging my wife’s honor and I won’t stand for it.”

“Now, now, Bridgerton, don’t be so sensitive. You are among friends here. No need to keep up this farce where you pretend to love her.”

“Perhaps you don’t recognize true affection since no lady has ever found you worthy of it,” Colin replied.

They were standing toe to toe and Penelope feared what would happen if nothing happened to defuse the tension. Her own intervention would only make matters worse, she was certain of it, so she was powerless to do anything but watch.

“Come now, you must have heard the whispers. The way the two of you gaze at each other, brushing hands under the table, sneaking off together at balls? This ruse is utterly ridiculous and no one believes you care for her, not even in your wildest fantasies. ”

If Colin appeared angry before, he was positively livid now. Without a word, he placed the edge of his blade directly against Fife’s neck, tilting his head with not a hint of humor on his face. The atmosphere grew taut and fear had overtaken Fife’s typically haughty expression. When her husband deigned to speak, the carefully controlled fury in his voice caused her to tremble. 

“I demand satisfaction. You know nothing of my wife’s beauty, nor of my devotion to her,” Colin said with a look of disgust at Fife’s sniveling face. “You are not worthy to speak her name.”

Penelope wasn’t sure what Fife would have said, for he was pale as a ghost, or whether Cho would have intervened, for he was looking between the other two men with a panicked look on his face. He clearly hadn’t foreseen such involvement when he agreed to a round of sport. But then she heard two more voices coming toward the grassy clearing and she almost collapsed with relief. Her eldest brother-in-laws had decided to join the others after all and stopped short when they laid eyes on such a dramatic scene. 

“Good God, what is happening?” Anthony exclaimed. 

“Fife and I are simply resolving a disagreement as gentlemen must. He believes it prudent to question not only my honor, but my wife’s.”

Benedict and Anthony exchanged knowing glances and moved in tandem to separate the two men.

“Colin, surely your wife does not wish you to put yourself in harm’s way,” Benedict said calmly. “Lower your foil.”

“I’m afraid that’s impossible. My duty as a husband demands that I address this matter. Anthony, you of all people should understand that.”

Anthony’s jaw set and he straightened his shoulders. “To be sure. And Lord Fife must be aware that when he insults any Bridgerton, he insults all of us. We dearly love Penelope, and perhaps he simply misspoke. Isn’t that correct, Bertie?” 

Penelope tried not to giggle as Lord Fife winced at Anthony’s derisive use of a childish nickname. Benedict had no such compunction as he let out a low, menacing chuckle.

Fife looked between the three brothers, with their matching chestnut hair and stony expressions, and grimaced. “Of course. Mrs. Bridgerton is a lovely woman, and Mr. Bridgerton is fortunate to have such a wife. No disrespect was meant.”

Colin’s expression remained unchanged and he pressed the blade slightly harder into Fife’s throat, stopping just short of drawing blood. “I believe an apology is in order.”

Fife appeared to be searching for a way out, his smug expression having long since disappeared at finding himself outnumbered three to one. Cho was no help as he possessed neither intellect nor courage. His fidgeting and occasional worried moans demonstrated that he clearly wished to be anywhere but in the midst of a disagreement between two powerful families. 

“My sincerest apologies,” Fife finally forced out.

Colin nodded but said nothing, lowering the blade torturously slowly and never breaking eye contact with Fife. He didn’t move back but simply began rolling up his white shirtsleeves, revealing his strong forearms as he pushed them up above his elbows. Before anyone could react, he dealt Fife such a blow to the face that he fell to the ground.

“Apology accepted,” Colin stated calmly. “Have I mentioned that I prefer boxing to fencing? Good sport, old chap.”

He walked away and sipped at his glass of water as Fife writhed and groaned on the grass. Anthony only appeared amused, and Benedict turned to Cho with the air of one who had been forced to redress his brother’s crimes of passion before.

“Perhaps you and Lord Fife would like to return to the house and change. I believe my sister-in-law has organized a tea that will begin shortly.”

Fife clutched his nose as he staggered to his feet, and Cho nodded eagerly. The two left as quickly as they could while maintaining what little dignity they had left. Penelope was rather impressed by how her brothers-in-law bade them farewell as politely as if they had all shared a friendly drink together. Colin continued to watch in silence, his body rigid.

Penelope watched as Benedict laid a comforting hand on his younger brother’s shoulder. “Colin…” 

“Not one word,” Colin began heatedly, but before he could continue, Anthony interrupted him in a firm tone. 

“Another round?”

Colin nodded as Benedict shrugged his shoulders and went to spectate on the bench. Colin had a murderous look on his face as they raised their foils. Before long, Anthony was panting as he tried to keep up with his brother’s movements. Penelope watched with concern as they parried and thrust more vigorously than she had ever seen before. She didn’t wish Colin to be hurt while he was distracted and blinded by anger. By the time Colin was declared the victor, they were both glowing with exertion, her husband’s white shirt molding to the muscles of his chest, but his face at least appeared a little calmer. Penelope had to concede that Anthony had known exactly what Colin needed after such an ordeal.

Benedict seemed to agree, for he rose without a word to begin the next round. Yet again, Colin battled fiercely, his temper flaring and overcoming his brother’s efforts at strategic moments. He bested Benedict with little trouble at all, and now he appeared more like his charming self as he grinned in victory.

She was beginning to feel rather guilty for her hiding spot now that Fife was gone, but it was somewhat awkward to announce herself in front of her brother-in-laws at such a time. At any rate, Anthony and Benedict hadn’t finished speaking to their brother yet. A brotherly bond like theirs was something she didn’t fully understand, but she knew how important they were to Colin.

“We’re no match for your aggression today,” Anthony called out as they stopped to rest. “Well done, Colin.”

Penelope caught the pleased half smile flit across Colin’s face before a smirk took over. “It’s becoming more difficult to defeat me in your advanced age, I dare say. How fortunate that I have youth and vigor on my side.” 

Penelope silently agreed that her husband certainly had stamina to spare, as he had proven time and again in their bedchamber. The way he had defended her, and the physicality of his exertions, were making her feel rather heated herself.

Anthony rolled his eyes at Colin’s cheek, but there was amusement on his face rather than irritation. “I meant the way you defended your wife. Penelope is a fine woman and we all respect her. And she could not have a more steadfast champion than you. Father would have been proud.”

Colin’s ears reddened, and he seemed momentarily speechless. Benedict clapped Colin on the back and nodded. “Two brothers in love; I never would have expected it. But Penelope was an excellent choice, Colin, and we can all see how happy she makes you.”

She expected him to deny Benedict’s assumption, but instead Colin merely smiled at his brothers. “You have my thanks for intervening before I did something I would come to regret. I truly felt I might murder the man.”

“Understandable,” Anthony said seriously. “I’ve wanted to punch the smug look off his face since we were together at Cambridge. I’m rather put out that you beat me to it.”

The men laughed together and then rose. “Are you coming back to the house with us?” asked Benedict.

“I think I’ll stay here for a few moments. Kate wouldn’t take kindly to me starting a brawl, and it's best if I don’t see Fife again before I calm myself fully,” Colin replied.

As Benedict and Anthony nodded and took their leave, Penelope decided it was time to reveal herself and see if she could offer her husband any comfort. She gathered her book and blanket and walked toward the bench where Colin sat, his head in his hands. He looked up at her footsteps and Penelope came to sit beside him on the bench.

“That would have been quite thrilling were I not so concerned for your safety,” she said softly, taking his hand. She examined the knuckles, which were already beginning to bruise, and placed a tender kiss on each one, gazing into his stormy blue eyes as she did so. He let out an exhale at her tender attention.

“You saw?” 

“Yes, I apologize for not announcing myself. I was reading nearby before you came and wished to avoid Lord Fife.”

“If only I could have done the same.” His fists clenched at his sides and his face grew preoccupied, perhaps reliving Fife’s disrespect all over again.

“Thank you for defending me,” Penelope replied, lacing her fingers with his. Colin’s eyes cleared of anger as he registered the way she was looking at him, so soft and adoring. 

“I only spoke the truth.” Colin focused on their joined hands, a sense of shame overpowering any pleasure at her approval. “If I hadn’t been so thoughtless before, he would never have dared to say such things.” 

To his surprise, Penelope leaned in and softly kissed him, utter grace in the way she offered her lips to his. How could she be so sweet and wonderful and brilliant all at the same time? Always seeing the best in him, accepting him and offering herself even when it required bravery.

“Don’t think on it anymore, please,” she urged, her sincere blue eyes fixed on his. “I don’t.”

“You forgive me?” he asked, wanting to be reassured, wishing that they could leave the past behind them once and for all. 

“Completely and utterly. You’ve shown me nothing but understanding and devotion, even after Whistledown.” She paused, running her thumb over the back of his hand. “Colin, you’re precisely the husband I need, just as you are.” 

Penelope flushed and looked away demurely, embarrassed to share feelings of such depth. He had to pull her to him then, unable to express what it meant to hear those words. She settled in his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. Colin lost himself in another kiss, having to remind himself as his hand wandered to her breast that they were outdoors where anyone could come upon them. He pulled back, breathing heavily. 

“We must stop before I get carried away,” he said roughly, trying to regain his gentlemanly manners. He traced his hand along the delicate curve of her jaw and said, “But I feel the same. You are the only one I could ever care for so deeply.”

“Even when I push you away?” she asked with a slight tremor in her voice. It seemed he was not the only one who still needed reassurance at times.

“Your heart is still mending. How I wish that I could heal it with just a kiss.” Colin tried doing just that by pressing his lip to the spot, then lay his head against it for a moment so he could feel its faint beating. “You are very precious to me. Did you know that?”

“Why?” she breathed out, and immediately he could feel her pulling away from his arms. He knew her well enough by now to realize she regretted asking. It was too revealing. Perhaps she was even afraid he would have no answer.

“Where can I begin? Your wit, your intelligence? The way you tilt your head when you listen to me, the way you encourage me merely with the look in your eyes? The comfort I feel when I return home and I know I’ll find you in our little sitting room? How could you be anything but the most important person in my life?”

Penelope’s eyes filled with tears and he gently stroked her face as she absorbed his words. 

“And perhaps someday, there will be a sweet baby in my arms when you arrive home,” she finally said, the hope and trust in her eyes so endearing that Colin had to resist the urge to say “I love you.” Thinking of walking into the drawing room and seeing her there, a redheaded child sleeping at her breast, was the most pleasant daydream he could imagine.

“Someday, we’ll have a house full of children,” he said tenderly. “What a darling mother you will be. But Penelope, I can be patient. I want you to feel sure of me.”

“You are patient, aren’t you?” Something in her expression made Colin swallow convulsively, perhaps that darkening of her eyes or the way her chest was rising and falling more rapidly. “Except when it came to taking me. You weren’t very patient then, were you?”

Colin traced his finger along the line of her bodice teasingly. “As I recall, wife, you were quite eager and required very little convincing. In fact, you were the one who seduced me.”

“What an accusation! I was a mere innocent who needed to be kept warm. You were the rake who ruined me,” she said, toying with the top button of his white shirt and clearly enjoying his lack of cravat. 

“We seem to differ in our recollections of that night. Perhaps we ought to reenact it after the other guests are asleep.” 

“It’s important that we do so, or we will never resolve this disagreement,” Penelope replied. “Although tonight seems very far away at present.”

“Now who is the impatient one?” Colin asked smugly.

Penelope gave a small shrug, completely unperturbed by his conclusion. “You still seem rather agitated from defending my honor. Come and we’ll have a bath drawn to relax you. I must assist you, of course.”

Colin blinked several times and then smirked. “Should my valet be concerned for his job?”

“I think you’ll find I perform my duties much differently, darling, but no less thoroughly.” She bit her lip as she gazed at him innocently. Colin allowed himself to be led away with very little resistance. When they returned to the party for luncheon, more than one guest noticed that the newlyweds looked very happy indeed.

Chapter Text

Warm kisses beginning at her shoulder and moving across her bare back pulled Penelope gently from her dreams. She sleepily opened her eyes and turned to see Colin, dressed for the hunt and looking delicious in his tight riding breeches.

“Good morning, darling,” he said softly. “I’m sorry to wake you, but you look so enticing lying in my bed this way.”

Penelope flushed, for there were many nights now when she didn’t bother dressing again after they made love. It was entirely too glorious to feel the silky friction of his skin during the night or to press back against him when they were both still half asleep until he slipped inside her.  

“I’ve become rather wanton as your bride,” she confessed. “For which I hold you entirely responsible.” Penelope smiled at him, and Colin pinched her hip playfully.

“What have I done but worship you as a husband should?” asked Colin, pretending to be offended.

“You’re entirely too tempting in those breeches. Peel them off and come back to bed,” she cajoled, reaching for his hand and tugging him toward her.

He groaned. “I wish that I could. But I promised Gregory that he could join the hunt today. Anthony and I had a row about it, but I won by promising to take over his charge.”

“It was very good of you to do it,” Penelope affirmed. 

Gregory had been crestfallen last evening when Anthony refused to even hear of him engaging in sport with the rest of the men. He longed to be included with his elder brothers, but only Colin seemed to recognize it. Perhaps because he too had been shut out of Anthony and Benedict’s bond until only recently, when he was finally recognized as a man. Colin must have taken Anthony aside in his study when they retired there for a nightcap, and Penelope admired him for it. The way Gregory adored Colin only made her more convinced that he would be the most excellent father.

“It’s only right. Gregory is nearing manhood, and we must all take some responsibility for guiding him.” Colin shrugged modestly. “I wish Father could have taken him for the first time as he did me.”

Penelope merely squeezed his hand sympathetically. Little by little they had become more comfortable sharing their grief with one another, to the point that they could communicate their shared support without words now. Dear Colin, he never wished to add to his family’s burden by expressing his sorrow. She supposed that they were the same in that way—while they presented very different faces to the world, at heart they were both rather private. And neither added to their families’ burdens if they could possibly prevent it.

“Some day, will you tell me about your first hunt?” she asked.

Colin grinned. “I certainly will. Perhaps while we prepare for dinner together?”

“Perfect. Hurry home to me, darling.”

He kissed the top of her head in agreement, and she rolled over to sleep away a few more hours of the morning.

_____

Penelope paced back and forth across the plush rug of the family’s private drawing room. The rain lashing against the window and the ominous rumbles of thunder did little to calm her troubled mind. Save for the storm, it was quiet, eerily so, as she and the other female Bridgertons waited for word. 

The gentlemen had returned from the hunt some time ago, perhaps a little damp, but unscathed. All except for Colin and sweet, dimpled Gregory. Lord Hardy, who thought of little but horses, had seen Gregory’s steed frightened by a clap of thunder as the storm came upon them on their way home. Colin had given chase when the horse bolted, but no one had thought to follow them, assuming they would return shortly.

Penelope was numb at the thought of it—the two of them out in the storm, lost, potentially injured, frightened. Colin would be doing everything possible to care for Gregory, she was certain of it. 

Unless he couldn’t. 

Oh God, what if the worst had happened? What if he wasn’t coming home? Her chest was being crushed under the weight of her thoughts, each imagined scenario more horrific than the last. She couldn’t cry because she feared she would begin wailing and never stop if she allowed a hint of emotion to escape her.

Eloise approached with a cup of tea. “Come and sit, Penelope. Surely my brother isn’t worth all this fuss. He’ll come in soaking wet and complaining of hunger soon, you’ll see.” 

A fury rose up in her that was so great, she had never experienced anything like it before. “How dare you—” She abruptly stopped speaking as Violet approached and gently shooed Eloise back to the settee beside Francesca. 

Penelope stood there seething, turning her back to Eloise so she wouldn’t say something she regretted. She felt helpless, and the only thing she could think to do was defend Colin against anyone who tried to diminish him, even if it was her best friend. She knew Eloise was only trying to lighten the mood, but she couldn’t bear to hear Colin being spoken of so dismissively when he was in danger. 

Violet seemed to understand, for she reached for Penelope and embraced her. Penelope was startled for a moment, for her own mother would never have done such a thing, but it felt so comforting. She breathed in Violet’s light floral scent and allowed the tears she had been holding back to escape down her cheeks.

“I want Colin,” she whispered. Violet held her even tighter, perhaps understanding better than anyone what she was feeling. After all, two of her sons were missing, and Penelope knew her mother-in-law was intimately familiar with the way life could change in an instant. Her father’s death had given her the same terrible knowledge, and it was impossible to forget it under such circumstances.

“I know, dear. I want to see him as well.”

“I’m sure he’s keeping Gregory safe. He would do nothing less.” Now Penelope wanted to comfort Violet, who she could feel trembling even as she tried to maintain a calm facade. 

Her mother-in-law squeezed her tighter, and they turned to the sound of a new person entering the room. It was only Augie’s nursemaid bringing him to his mother for a visit. As Penelope watched, Daphne snatched the child up in her arms as he squealed with delight. The loving scene stabbed deep into her heart as she realized that she may have given up her chance to have a baby with Colin. Why, why had she kept him at arm’s length when he meant so much to her? Her eyes welled with tears thinking of all she wished she had said to him, all the ways she could have demonstrated her love.

Francesca had been quietly observing the tension but now placed a hand on Penelope’s arm. “Would you like to be alone in your bedchamber? Or I could wait with you there?” 

Penelope was grateful for her consideration, but the thought of being alone in the room where she had first become Colin’s was overwhelming. “I wish to remain here in the event that there is news. But would you play for me? Perhaps a calming piece?” 

Francesca nodded and went to the pianoforte, selecting some music and beginning to play. Penelope allowed it to wash over her as she stood at the window, watching and hoping for figures to appear in the darkness. 

Several hours later, there was still no word. The only ones remaining in vigil were herself, Violet, and Kate, who refused to go to bed while her guests were still unaccounted for. The servants brought several platters of food to tempt them, but it sat there mostly untouched, none of them possessing an appetite for anything but news of Gregory and Colin.

Finally, when Penelope felt she couldn’t sink any deeper into regret and despair, there was a commotion in the entryway. She nearly cried as she heard Colin’s voice—it was weak but unmistakably his. 

“Go easy, Anthony, for God’s sake!” 

She and the other ladies almost ran from the room, coming upon a footman and Anthony assisting Colin into the house, as Benedict carried Gregory, who appeared wet and exhausted. 

“Call for Dr. Dorsett,” Violet commanded a nearby footman. “They will each need a bath and some nourishing food and drink.” 

The servants obeyed without question, while Penelope felt frozen, her eyes locked on Colin. His face was white and drawn with pain, and every movement seemed to be causing him discomfort. She wanted to go to him, but everyone was watching them, and she suddenly felt self-conscious. 

Colin’s eyes met hers, and the need in his weakened voice crying, “Pen!” broke through her reserve, and she rushed to his side. The footman stepped out of the way, and she took his place, wrapping her arm steadily around Colin’s waist. Never mind that she was heads shorter than him, she wanted to be by his side in any way she could. 

Anthony shook his head at her. “Penelope, allow James to assist—”

“I am his wife,” she said firmly, amazed that her courage had risen enough to defy the Viscount, and even more amazed that he seemed to accept her word. 

Colin had little energy to speak, but he clung to her as they walked up the stairs, stopping occasionally to allow him to catch his breath. It broke her heart to hear the little gasps of pain he made when he was jostled or they moved too quickly.  His normally impeccable attire was filthy and wet; his face devoid of good humor. He was so unlike himself but Penelope could only feel grateful that he was alive, that she could feel his warm skin and the breath rising and falling with each step.

Colin’s faithful valet met them in their bedchamber, having been informed of his master’s condition.  Penelope saw with relief that a bath was already being prepared. 

“Can we assist you into the tub to warm up?” she asked softly, uncertain of the extent of his injuries. 

“I believe so,” he said with a small groan at the effort required to speak.

“Hush, darling, I can see you’re in pain. Squeeze my hand if you need me.” 

He immediately pressed her hand, but when she looked up to see what was the matter, he only smiled at her weakly. It warmed her heart that even in a moment of great trial, he still wanted to assure her of his affection. 

“I need you too,” she whispered softly in his ear, determined that she wouldn’t leave her devotion for him unspoken from this day forward. She was rewarded by the softness in his eyes, and a wave of love washed over the two of them, despite the terrible circumstances.

Anthony cleared his throat impatiently as they continued to gaze at each other. Penelope had been grateful for his kind words to Colin the other day after the altercation with Fife, but she quickly grew irritated when she saw the way he was looking disapprovingly at his younger brother. As he opened his mouth to speak, she knew beyond a doubt that whatever he wished to say would not be helpful to Colin’s recovery.

She quickly turned to stop him before he could disturb Colin’s peace. “Thank you for your assistance. You may go.”

“I don’t believe so, not until I understand. What caused this disaster in the first place? Of all the irresponsible capers you’ve gotten into, Colin, this is the worst! Gregory could have been killed, Mother was worried—” 

“Anthony, your presence is no longer required here,” Penelope broke in firmly, feeling Colin sag further under the disapproval in his brother’s voice. 

“Wait one moment—”

Penelope decided more decisive action was required. She assisted Colin in perching on a nearby settee and then took Anthony’s arm, guiding him steadily toward the door. 

“No,” she said in a low undertone. “Now is not the time for such a conversation. My husband requires rest and care before he can speak with anyone.”

“I must insist—” 

“Allow him to recover before you berate him. Or better yet, encourage him instead, for he loves you,” Penelope said with a pointed look. 

Anthony opened and closed his mouth several times as if wishing to retort, and Penelope squeezed his arm again to emphasize her point. Finally, he nodded, almost respectfully. She opened the door and ushered him out before turning back with clasped hands to the men watching her with a mixture of awe and disbelief. 

“Help me get him into the tub, please,” she said, breaking the still awkward silence. The valet nodded as Penelope began working at Colin’s buttons as gently as she could. He was looking down at her, but she couldn’t meet his eyes, the emotion of the past day threatening to knock her over with its weight if she stopped for even a moment. She slowly worked the shirt off of his body and gasped at the spreading bruise covering his ribs and shoulder. 

“Oh, Colin!” she cried, covering her mouth with her hand. 

“All will be well, Pen, don’t fret,” he said reassuringly, but even now she could see the fatigue overcoming him in the downturn of his mouth. After removing the rest of his clothes, they assisted him into the bath, and Penelope dismissed the valet so they could speak privately. 

She tenderly washed away the dirt on Colin’s face and forearms as he watched her, trying to pour all of her love into each motion. As gentle as she tried to be, he let out an occasional, involuntary gasp at the pain of being touched. Penelope couldn’t speak for fear that she would break down entirely at seeing him brought so low. She didn’t wish to burden him with her pent up fear and sadness, not when he needed her support. 

“I hit my head as well,” he whispered as she moved to wash his hair, which was matted with mud and strands of grass. She nodded her understanding, softening her touch and rinsing it as delicately as she could. His eyes had closed with relief at the warmth of the water and the sensation of being clean again, but she knew he was still awake, and she kissed him sweetly on the forehead when she finished. 

When Colin had been dried and dressed for bed, they heard a knock on the door, and Violet entered along with Dr. Dorsett, who had been staying at the house as a member of the party. 

“How is Gregory?” Colin immediately asked, the concern clear on his face despite the distraction of his physical pain.

“He’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep and some broth. He was merely wet and cold, while you appear to have borne the brunt of the adventure,” replied Dr. Dorsett. “I’ll need to examine you now, but I’m glad you’ve had a chance to warm up.” 

Violet came to Colin’s bedside and placed her hand on his forehead. “How are you, dear?”

“A bit sore, but I’m sure I’ll be well, Mother. Who is staying with Gregory?”

Penelope’s heart swelled at how selfless Colin was, his only concern for his brother. She was certain he was in more pain than he admitted, but she admired the way he wished to protect Violet from further concern.

“Hyacinth insisted on spending the night in his room, and Fran is there as well. He was concerned for you. He mentioned more than once how level headed you were despite your injuries.”

Colin shrugged his good shoulder humbly. “He’s a good lad. Very brave despite all that happened.”

“I’m proud of both of you,” Violet said firmly. “And I’m so very glad that you are home safe and well.” 

“I love you, Mother,” Colin said sincerely. “You can attend to Gregory now—my wife will care for me.” 

Violet nodded at Penelope, who was standing vigil by the bedside, holding tightly to Colin’s hand with no intention of letting go. “I can see that she will. If you need me, please call, no matter the hour. Otherwise, I’ll come visit in the morning.”

When they once again had privacy, Dr. Dorsett began his examination as Colin shared in an exhausted voice how he had come to be injured. Penelope remained by his side, only letting go of her husband’s hand when absolutely necessary. She listened as her husband laid out the details of his misadventure, pausing occasionally to gather his breath.

“The storm came on suddenly,” he began. “Gregory’s horse spooked and I gave chase. I tried to grab his reins but was thrown. As I stood, Gregory’s horse knocked me backward.” His hand drifted to his chest as he winced at the memory.

Dr. Dorsett clicked his tongue, moving his examination to the indicated area. Penelope watched his gentle probing and worried her lip between her teeth. The doctor shook his head briefly, muttering to himself, and then took Colin’s head in his hands. “Your youngest brother tells me you hit your head, but did not lose consciousness.” 

“Not entirely, no. But I was rather disoriented for a time. By the time I regained my senses, it was dark and rather difficult to find our way back to the house through the forest. I believe we were quite a distance away by that point,” Colin explained.

Penelope stroked his hand softly as he spoke, not wishing to convey her anxiety at hearing of the accident. Even though the danger had passed, thoughts of losing Colin still haunted her. But he wouldn’t be the husband she loved if he hadn’t done everything he could to help a beloved family member.

“You astonish me, Colin. It was very courageous of you,” she said quietly.

Colin’s ears reddened at her praise, but he merely smiled at her humbly as they became lost in one another’s gaze. “Gregory was my responsibility, and I could do nothing less.” 

Dorsett cleared his throat, undoubtedly amused by the lovesick display occurring in front of him. He had bandaged Colin’s side to provide support and was now ready to render a diagnosis.

“Well Bridgerton, you’ve broken a rib and badly bruised your shoulder. I also dare say that blow to the head will give you a nasty headache.” He turned to Penelope. “The servants must watch your husband carefully tonight, but I’ve checked his pulse, and it's healthy and strong. He is young and vigorous, so I expect a full recovery. You may apply cold compresses to the head for comfort, and tomorrow he may have some laudanum in wine for the pain. For tonight, I don’t want him to sleep too deeply.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Penelope replied as she began to walk him to the door.

“I’ll call on you in the morning, Bridgerton. Try to get some rest.”

Colin called out a weak, “Thank you.” Penelope busied herself making a list of items for his comfort, and once the valet had left to fetch them, they were finally alone. 

Penelope lowered the lamps and fussed over Colin’s covers, tucking him in sweetly but finding it difficult to meet his eyes. A basin of water and some clean compresses had been brought, so she pulled a chair close to his bedside, the same one he had slept in that first night, and began to tenderly pat one to his forehead.

“Heavenly,” he murmured, closing his eyes in relief at the sensation. 

“How are you, darling?” she asked. “Are you in pain?”

“It hurts to breathe and talk,” he admitted.

“Don’t speak then, my love,” Penelope said soothingly. “I’ll take care of everything.”

His heart lurched hopefully, but he didn’t comment on the term of endearment. He wished to be more fully present before he pressed her on what she meant by it.

“How are you , Pen? I’m sorry if I gave you a fright.”

“I can’t speak of it yet,” she said in a choked voice. “But I’m so glad you came back to me.”

She finally met his eyes, and he was overwhelmed by the emotion in her expression. The tears in her eyes threatened to spill over, but Penelope was saved by a knock at the door. She spoke briefly to the servant and then returned with a bowl of broth. 

“Come, darling, you haven’t eaten in hours,” she said as she arranged the tray on his nightstand and helped him sit up against the pillow. 

“Aren’t you retiring, Pen? A servant can keep watch while you rest.” 

A fierce expression came to her eyes that brooked no argument. “I will care for you myself to ensure it's done properly.” 

She then lifted the spoon, indicating that he should open his mouth. He said no more but allowed her to feed him, touched by the way she cared for him so tenderly. He wouldn’t have wished to be dependent on anyone else in such a manner, but somehow it felt right with Penelope. Perhaps it was the way she seemed totally at ease taking charge of the situation, reading what he needed without the necessity of words. He puzzled over it for several minutes before realizing why it mattered so greatly to him: not only did Penelope want to be by his side, she never questioned for a moment that he would want her there. 

Despite the aching in his side and the pounding in his head, he wished he could pull her into his arms and tell her how proud he was of her, of them . Somehow he knew it would be quite some time before he had the strength to do so, but he smiled at Penelope tiredly as he finished his meal and was tucked under the covers. The constant throbbing in his body made it difficult to relax, but his wife’s presence was comforting enough that he was eventually able to drift off into a restless sleep. 

When Colin awoke, it was still dark, but he could feel her absence from the chair beside him. A soft sobbing could be heard coming from the doorway to his dressing room. Penelope was muffling the noise by covering her mouth with one of his handkerchiefs, but her shoulders were shaking. When she heard the rustling of bed linens, she quickly wiped her tears and returned to his side. 

She stroked the hair away from his face, and Colin let out a contented sigh at the contact. He longed for her comfort, and he was unashamed of that fact. But he also knew she needed him despite the brave face she was presenting, her smile clearly for his benefit alone.

“Do you wish for some lemonade? The doctor says it may help. Or I can apply another compress?” 

He wanted to shake his head, but he couldn’t without making the pounding worse. What he truly needed was for her to be open with him. He had grown accustomed to hearing all of her thoughts and concerns during their time at Aubrey Hall. Despite his current state, he still desired that closeness.

“Dear heart, you’re troubled. Tell me how I can comfort you.” He reached his arms out to beckon her to him but winced as his side panged sharply.

“Lie still, Colin,” she said, shaking her head. “Allow me to care for you.” 

She helped him settle more comfortably against the pillows, then rested her hand against his forehead. Colin could see that it wouldn’t be so easy to coax a confidence from her, not when she felt the focus should be on him. He allowed her to fuss over him, taking small sips of lemonade and enjoying the way she stroked his hair softly. 

“Come lie beside me,” he murmured when she settled back into her chair. 

“I don’t wish to jostle you too much. We must attend to your recovery,” Penelope replied sternly.

“You’re a very firm nurse, wife,” he teased. “I find myself rather fearful of disobeying you.”

Instead of laughing, her eyes filled with tears. “I must care for you until you are back to your full strength. I need my husband.”

She needed him. He didn’t want to push her before she was ready; she had already said that it pained her to speak of it. But it wasn’t right for her to recover from the day's events alone, not when she had her husband there to comfort her. 

“Penelope, you simply must climb into bed. I want to hear all your concerns.” 

Even in his weakened state, when Colin spoke with such firm resolve, Penelope could do nothing but obey. She gingerly climbed in on his good side, kissing his bare shoulder and nestling in beside him. They breathed in tandem for a few moments, taking comfort in their closeness.

“I thought you might never come home,” Penelope confessed quietly. “The hours of waiting—today was the worst day of my life until I heard your voice again.”

Colin reached for her hand and gripped it firmly. “I’m here now. I haven’t left you.” 

Penelope allowed her tears to spill over then. Colin had never seen her this way, not even when the tension between them had been at its peak after he discovered she was Whistledown. Of course he knew she cared for him, even if just as a friend. But the depth of her emotion, the broken sobs, seemed to come from a deep well of fear—he felt humbled to be the object of such devotion. She finally calmed enough to speak.

“Do you have any notion of how essential you are to me? My heart would never recover from your loss. Never.” She was raining desperate kisses against his hand, and he could feel her tears painting his skin with each press of her lips. 

“Pen, my precious Pen,” was all he could say in response. “I feel the same.”

He knew all too well that he couldn’t promise to always come home to her, no matter how much he wished he could. And his own heart ached to imagine it, his wife all alone in a world that had never been kind to her. Seeing her this way, knowing that they had been so close to losing everything—Colin knew for certain what it meant to be her husband. How intertwined their happiness had truly become. He couldn’t hold her as he wanted to, and he had no idea how he would bear it until he healed.

“Come closer so I can kiss you,” he said. 

She kneeled beside him and placed a featherlight kiss on his lips. 

“Rest well, darling. I’ll be here when you wake.”

He knew that she would, and so he closed his eyes to rest.

Chapter Text

Day by day, Colin slowly recovered. It helped when he was allowed laudanum after the danger of his sore head had passed. He spent most of his time sleeping at first, but Penelope was always awake to see to his needs when he was lucid. 

Colin found it was less of a hardship to be laid up in bed when he had a beautiful wife to attend him. As far as Penelope was concerned, whatever could add to his comfort must be sought. He was constantly being fed morsels of his favorite food, entertained by her tales of the absurdities occurring downstairs, and petted and caressed as he lay in bed. Colin particularly enjoyed her insistence on bathing him herself and quickly hinted that he felt much refreshed by a daily scrub. He feared he was becoming as pampered as a prince under her care. 

“Colin, behave yourself,” she scolded gently as he edged a finger along her neckline. She was leaning over the tub as she lathered his chest, and he had the most tantalizing view of her bosom. It felt to Colin as though they hadn’t made love in ages, and now that the worst of the pain was gone, he missed his wife.

“Don’t you wish to distract me from my injuries?” he asked imploringly. Penelope released a shaky breath as he dipped a finger between her breasts. 

“Dr. Dorsett doesn’t feel it would be wise.” 

“You asked him about resuming marital relations?” 

She gave an embarrassed nod and returned her attention to bathing him. Colin took in her flushed cheeks and the ways her hands lingered on his thighs as she continued her work. 

“You must miss me a great deal to bring up such an improper topic. Do you need to be satisfied?”

“Your recovery is of the utmost importance,” she hedged.

“You’re not answering my question. Do you ache for me?” He was painfully hard now, and he knew she had noticed, for she was running her hands over his firm stomach, dangerously close to his need for her.

“Yes,” she said, looking directly in his eyes. “But you should not be exerting yourself, and the way you make love is far too vigorous for your current state of health. I… I have been touching myself while you’re asleep, and that is adequate for now.”

Of everything she could have said, that surprised him the most. He never knew Penelope was aware of such a thing, let alone that she engaged in pleasuring herself. What a fortunate man he was to have such a passionate wife. Colin groaned at the thought of her petite hand caressing between her legs in the dark with no one the wiser. 

“May I see? Tonight, when there is no risk of being interrupted?” 

She blinked at him in confusion. “The thought of it excites you?” 

He nodded emphatically. “Please, Penelope? I promise not to utter a word; I only want to watch.” He gave her his most charming look, knowing she had trouble resisting it.

She bit her lip. “We’ll see,” she replied hesitantly.

Even after all they had learned about one another, sometimes that little leap in her chest reminded her that it was Colin Bridgerton asking for such a thing. She hoped that she would never lose that sense of awe for her husband. 

“Are you longing for your own release?” She brushed his hair back from his forehead and examined him with that worried look that was quite familiar to him now. 

Colin nodded. “I miss your warmth. That sweet, soft place between your thighs. We haven’t been apart for so long since we married.”  

Penelope seemed to be calculating something, and he recognized the look from his convalescence. Whenever he expressed a need, her determination to meet it was quite a sight to behold.

“Can you be very obedient, Colin?” Penelope asked, stroking his cheek softly. “Think carefully before you agree.” 

“It depends who is ordering me about, I suppose,” he said, his heart thrumming faster. 

“If it is your wife?” she asked, removing her hands from his body completely. He almost protested, for he had been enjoying her ministrations, but then he saw a hint of mischief in her eyes and knew that it was all part of the game. One that he desperately wanted to play if he were being honest with himself. 

“What are the rules?”

“No matter how badly you wish to move or speak, you must remain completely still and silent. If even one word escapes you, or I feel you moving such that you could injure yourself further, I will stop touching you immediately.”

Penelope would appear unsmiling and firm to all but Colin, who knew her best. Only he could detect the devilish gleam in her eye and the way just the right corner of her mouth was threatening to curve upward into a smile. 

“And what is to be my reward for such hardships?”

“An end to your suffering,” she replied, with a pointed look into the water, where even now his manhood was clearly visible.

“Very well; I agree to your terms.” 

Penelope picked up the bar of soap again, tracing a bubbly path over his back and shoulders. He could not ask for gentler hands upon him, yet the purposeful heat in the way she caressed him held him completely under her thrall. When she began tracing over his abdomen, dragging her fingernails lightly in a way that was completely maddening, he began to regret his promise not to make a sound. He wanted to groan his pleasure, but she wordlessly shook her head at him as though reading his thoughts.

When she had repeated the same torture on his thighs, kneading them firmly, and drawing teasingly close to his arousal, he widened his eyes beseechingly. His wife couldn’t ignore such silent pleading and immediately gripped him, beginning the slow, sweet strokes that he so adored. 

It was difficult to remain so still, but he knew Penelope was right to be cautious. He still had to be careful not to jar his injury when he moved about, or the pain could steal his breath. He experimented with shutting his eyes, but found it even more difficult to remain focused. So instead, he gazed at his beautiful wife as she brought him to ever increasing heights. 

Her hair was styled softly with some of the pieces falling around her shoulders just as he preferred. At first he had wondered if it was a coincidence, but she had confessed on one of their promenades before the accident that she enjoyed dressing to his preferences. She really was the sweetest wife he could imagine. 

Her clear blue eyes were focused on him, only him, as his feelings of desire for her spilled over into the water. It was only then that he broke his word and made a soft groan, for it had been some time since he had any release.

Penelope leaned forward and kissed him softly on the mouth. “You did well dearest,” she said approvingly, and began to assist him out of the tub. When he was settled back in bed, he opened his arms to her, inviting her to snuggle into his side.

“Such a darling wife,” he murmured affectionately when she was tucked in beside him.

Penelope pecked him on the temple and sighed happily. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m well. Your… attentions have certainly aided my healing,” he replied cheekily. “I must inform Dorsett of your innovative techniques.”

“Do be serious, you terrible man!” Penelope scolded with a giggle. 

“You adore my teasing, admit it,” Colin replied.

“If you insist, I certainly shall. Would it be best to announce it at dinner, do you think? Or perhaps I must bring Lady Whistledown out of retirement so a special edition can be devoted to all the murmurings about Penelope Bridgerton and how besotted she is with her husband?”

“And what would such an edition say, I wonder?” Colin asked with a grin.

Penelope looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully as she nestled deeper into the pillows. Colin loved watching her mind at work as she composed a column in her head. Especially as he knew that she was thinking about him.

“Gentle Reader, has there ever been a more perfect husband than the third Bridgerton? If there is, I have never heard of him, and trust me when I say that Lady Whistledown is rather an expert on the marriages of the Ton. Whispers have reached me that Mrs. Penelope Bridgerton can hardly speak for laughing whenever Mr. Bridgerton sets out to entertain her. In fact, she rarely leaves his side for his is her favorite company. It has reached such a point that others are shocked at the way she flaunts her feelings for him so brazenly. But who can blame her? For it is rare to see a gentleman possess a quick mind united with such incomparable physical beauty. But then, when has Colin Bridgerton ever settled for being less than extraordinary?”

She looked over and grinned at him as she concluded her speech. Colin was surprised at her open expression and the way she seemed unembarrassed to speak so adoringly of him.

“I love that you see me this way,” he said, utter sincerity in his tone.

“And I love sharing my life with you,” Penelope responded happily. She squeezed his hand sweetly. “When you are well again, I believe it’s time to add to our little family.”

This was the dream he had been waiting and hoping for over the past months, and it was finally happening. Colin tried to remain collected. It was difficult as he felt like doing so many things: leaping from the bed and yelling, pulling Penelope into a tight embrace, or bursting into song. Instead, he beamed at her and kissed her hand. “I couldn’t agree more, Mrs. Bridgerton.” 

______

Gregory called each afternoon, and Colin loved every moment of it, a strong bond having formed between the two during their misadventure. With the age gap as it was, Gregory had never been fully included with the elder brothers. But Colin was pleased that perhaps that could begin to change as they spent more time together. 

While Penelope went out of her way to welcome his family, she could be as fierce as a bulldog if they interfered with his recovery. Visitors were required to speak softly so as not to aggravate his still-aching head, and at the first sign of fatigue were shown to the door. Colin enjoyed seeing his family, as they broke the monotony of so much rest, but he was grateful to Penelope for being his defender, as they could also be somewhat… overwhelming.

He was lying in bed and trying not to think about the stabbing pain in his side when he saw Anthony’s head peering into the room. Colin hadn’t seen him since the day of the accident. Whether that was Anthony’s choice or Penelope’s edict, he wasn’t sure.

Penelope squeezed his hand and crossed the room to greet her eldest brother-in-law.

“Pardon me, Anthony, I’d like a quiet word before you speak to Colin.”

Anthony looked annoyed, but he followed the petite redhead out the door, which she partially closed behind them.

“I’m very glad to see you, and I’m certain Colin will be too. However, I wish to advise you of my expectations for your visit—” Penelope began.

Anthony drew himself up as only a viscount could and stared at her as if he had never seen her before— as if he could scarcely imagine little Penelope Featherington speaking to him in such a way.

“ Your expectations? This is my house and Colin is my brother–” 

Penelope held up her hand. “I have no doubt that you love your brother. But I’m afraid you’ll find that until Colin is well again, I am unquestionably in charge of his sickroom.” 

Penelope liked Anthony—she had always admired the ways he cared for his family. In fact, she had often wondered what her own life would have been like if she had had a sensible elder brother to curb the worst excesses of the Featheringtons. But she had seen Colin hurt too many times, and she couldn’t allow it in his current condition. She directed her firmest look in Anthony’s direction, the one that cowed printers and other arrogant men into submission when it was required. He finally nodded with grudging respect.

“You must speak quietly and avoid jarring him. Colin never complains, but his head and body ache terribly, especially as he does not wish to become too dependent on laudanum. Only pleasant topics may be spoken of—his spirits must be kept high to aid his recovery.” 

“I hadn’t realized his condition—I will do my best to remain calm, but Colin has much to answer for…”

She raised her eyebrows and looked at him seriously. “Under no circumstances will you question his judgment the day of the accident or sense of responsibility for Gregory.” 

“It is perfectly reasonable to wonder—” Anthony interjected, but Penelope’s delicate foot stamping the ground broke his train of thought.

“It is not reasonable to wonder.” Penelope’s voice was even, but she was beginning to lose her temper. She breathed deeply and reminded herself that Anthony cared for her husband as much as she did. They both only wanted the best for him. 

“Have you any notion of what a wonderful man Colin is? How well he looks after the well-being of all of your siblings, with his humor and his kindness? Always noticing when one of you is out of sorts; trying to cheer you and support you. He loves your family more than anything. Do you honestly believe he would put any one of you in harm’s way?” 

Anthony swallowed harshly. “You must admit that Colin has been drifting—and let us not forget the infamous circumstances that led to your marriage. He took advantage of an innocent, a dear friend of the family, selfishly, recklessly—”

“It was not as simple as you are making it out to be,” Penelope said with a shake of her head. “He cares for me exceedingly well. You ought to see how meticulously he sees to our household and provides for me. Please do not diminish him with your criticisms.”

That gave Anthony pause, but he quickly recovered. “I am only trying to help him by speaking such truths. It is my responsibility to keep him from going astray. Our father would have wanted it.”

“Colin is not drifting, Anthony. He simply needs the people who love him to believe in him. I do! Can you not try to do the same? I promise that if Colin is supported, if he is encouraged, he will amaze us all.” 

Penelope was surprised and very touched to see tears pricking at the corners of Anthony’s eyes. “You do believe in him, don’t you?”

“I do. Anthony, if you could see what a fine husband he is in our little townhouse, you would never doubt him again. And I know your opinion means a great deal to him. He wants to make you proud.”

Anthony didn’t speak for a time, but when he did, his voice was warm. “You are a true Bridgerton, Penelope. For no one but a sibling of mine would speak to me in such a way. Nor defend Colin in such a manner.” 

“I shall take that as a compliment,” she retorted with a smile. He smirked back at her, and she was pleased they had come to an understanding. “Now, you may enter, but please keep your visit to a quarter of an hour. Any more conversation than that tires him.”

“Yes, Mrs. Bridgerton,” replied Anthony as he entered. His sarcastic tone and twinkling eyes confirmed for her that they were siblings not only in law, but in truth.

Later that evening, Penelope tucked Colin into bed, bidding him goodnight with a chaste kiss. When they were lying in the dark, Penelope on her cot and Colin in the bed, they let out matching heavy sighs, and Penelope began giggling.

“And what do you have to sigh about, Mrs. Bridgerton?” Colin asked, beginning to chuckle himself.

“You seem very far away,” Penelope said quietly. While it was dark, he could see her eyes shining in the moonlight as she gazed at him.

“And whose fault is that? I maintain you’re holding a ridiculous line on this.”

The last few days, Colin had been cajoling Penelope to share his bed. He wasn’t accustomed to a cold, lonely night’s rest anymore, but she insisted that it was too risky.

“I’ve perhaps been overly cautious. But I hated seeing you in such pain. I can’t tell you the guilt I would feel if I hurt you simply because I was selfish.”

“Selfish? You could never be. After all, isn’t it I who has been practically begging you to join me again?” 

Penelope chewed at her lip for a moment. “Do you truly think you’re well enough?”

“I do, Pen. You can lay closest to my good side and all will be well.”

Colin watched in amusement as Penelope scrambled into bed, much more rapidly than anyone might expect of a lady. After days of sleeping apart from him through sheer willpower, she had reached her breaking point. She snuggled in beside him, that warm, soft form exactly what he had been longing for. The quiet of the night surrounded them, and as he watched the play of emotions on her face, Colin was reminded of the first time they had lain together in this bed.

He puckered his lips, knowing that Penelope would lean in to spare him any extra movements. He knew it was still too soon to hold her without discomfort, but he could enjoy kissing and touching her all the same. Penelope deepened the kiss, running her fingers through his hair reverently.

“Colin,” she sighed softly after pulling away, laying her head on the pillow so she could face him. Colin rolled onto his side as well, and while it sent a twinge through his ribs, it was worth it to be able to gaze into her eyes. They didn’t speak, but Colin liked to imagine he could read her thoughts.  He was twirling long auburn curls around his fingers while she was mapping the features of his face with her delicate hands. She was looking at him as if she never wanted to stop.

“I love you,” she murmured, her blue eyes holding fast to his. It was almost a sigh, as natural as breathing, as much a part of her as her laugh. 

Colin usually felt the urge to push events into motion: to drive his life’s story, to seek his purpose, to bend others to his way of seeing things with nothing but charm. But listening to Penelope declare herself with such quiet certainty required the opposite. He allowed himself to still, knowing that he only needed to let each word wash over him, to commit each one to memory. 

“I think it so often,” she continued softly. “When we’re among the other guests and you smile at me so kindly to reassure me, I want to shout it across the room. Or when we’re traveling and you allow me to see the beauty of a new place through your eyes, it’s all I can do not to whisper it in your ear. And every time we’re lying in bed like this and sharing our deepest thoughts with one another—I long to tell you. But especially those moments when I’ve disappointed you—and yet you never give up on me,” she paused and shook her head, as if in awe. “Never, Colin. It astonishes me, and I feel such an urge to tell you how deeply you are loved.

“I told you once that when one is in love, they should declare it, but I didn’t follow my own advice. I delayed telling you—I wanted to feel perfectly safe when I said it, you see. 

“When you were missing, all I could think of was that I may never be able to tell you. That you would never know the feelings you’ve inspired in me for as long as we’ve known one another.” She paused, catching her breath. “I love you.”

Colin found it rather adorable that Penelope couldn’t stop saying it now that she had begun. And even more so, that she was saying it so openly, as though she didn’t need a particular response from him. It was simply her truth, and she wanted him to know for his own sake.

 “Penelope…” he said, wanting to share his own feelings, the ones that had only strengthened as they learned to be husband and wife to one another. His heart was soaring and yet he was torn between conflicting desires. 

He wanted to tell her how much he loved her, and yet he wanted her to continue on and on, sharing all the reasons she loved him. He wanted to pull her to him and squeeze her tightly in a way that was likely not advisable in his current state. He wanted to make love to her as a husband should, despite knowing that Dr. Dorsett would certainly not approve in his current condition. Penelope could sense his hesitation but only snuggled closer to him, running her hand over his back reassuringly and gazing at him warmly.

“Colin, I love you,” she repeated, even more firmly this time, perhaps so she could hear herself over the beating of her own heart. “So dearly. So completely. I wanted you to know. And all will be well between us regardless, for I trust that you care for me even if you do not love me. Perhaps in time—” 

Colin noticed that there was no nervous vulnerability or mortification in her tone. Penelope spoke as if she was utterly unashamed of her feelings, but simply did not want him to feel pressured to return her sentiments. She was offering the gift of her love freely.

“Hush, Pen,” Colin broke in gently. “I have not spoken only because I cannot find words perfect enough for this moment.”

Penelope’s face lit up in a sweet smile.

“Sometimes the simplest words are best,” she responded hopefully. “Your words have always been enough, for you are enough.”

“I love you, Penelope. Utterly and madly.” 

Colin was overcome as he took in the expression on Penelope’s face and realized that he was the one who made her glow with such happiness. 

“I love you, darling wife,” he repeated, suddenly feeling sympathy for Penelope’s inability to stop declaring herself once she had begun. There was such freedom in naming what he had known was growing between them, in hearing the words out loud and feeling the embrace of affection that bound them together.

“We love each other,” Penelope confirmed, her eyes shining with tears. “Do you realize this is where everything started for us?”

Colin hummed thoughtfully. “Perhaps. When I brought you to my room, that was when I first allowed myself to admit that my feelings for you went beyond friendship. And it was the beginning of building our life together, each of us listening more and challenging ourselves to share who we are.”

Penelope considered that and then nodded. “Our love was a choice, despite how much was beneath the surface since our friendship began.”

“How did you know you were in love? I must admit that I puzzled over that question for years, until we married, and it all seemed to fall into place.” 

Colin recalled how he had always wanted to talk to Penelope about this question, but it seemed too scandalous to discuss as friends. Somehow he had always known that she was the only one who could help him make sense of his hopes and fears. She was the one he could confide in, the one who took him seriously and would give proper weight to his musings.

“You’re rather easy to fall in love with,” Penelope replied simply.

Colin grinned back at her easy response. “Am I? But how did you know ?”

Penelope paused for a moment to think. “I always knew I belonged to you, even when you did not belong to me. Just as I know I have red hair and that I love to write. The first time we spoke, it felt as though I was born to understand you. When I looked into your eyes, I knew that on some deeper plane, you knew me and I knew you. Your presence gave me such joy. No other gentleman could capture my heart so completely, and I had no desire for them to do so. And over time, my feelings have only deepened. Perhaps because even when one of us made a mistake, even a heartbreaking mistake, we were able to mend it together.”

“Can I confess something?” Colin asked hesitantly. “I overheard you speaking with Anthony earlier.”

Penelope bit her lip. “I hope I didn’t overstep my bounds—I only meant to offer Anthony another perspective. I only wish for everyone to treasure you as much as I do.”

“No, Penelope, I’m not upset. I—I have always felt your love in how you believed in me. Don’t mistake me, it means everything that you told me how you feel, so bravely. But as I reflect on it, I’m not surprised, for I’ve known in my heart for so long. The way you’ve always listened to me and encouraged me—and how you’ve cared for me so tenderly these last weeks. Your love for me is in every look and touch.” 

“I’m glad you could feel it,” Penelope responded. “Perhaps I was unwise in how open I was in my affections, but I can’t regret it now. Not when we’re so happily married, and soon to start a family.”

“Now that we understand each other so fully, I can hardly wait to make a baby with you.” Colin grinned unrepentantly. “I believe I will enjoy the process thoroughly.”

Penelope giggled before her face grew wistful. She wrapped her arm around his waist, and he did his best to embrace her as well. “I miss our little nest in London. I love it there, spending our evenings in the drawing room and visiting you in your study. Making love in our bedchamber with no thought to anyone else.”

“I’m certain that soon I will be well enough for travel, and when I am, we can return,” Colin replied reassuringly. “Don’t fret, my love.”

“Our townhouse really has become a home, hasn’t it?”

“It has, but it isn’t my most important one.”

“Oh,” Penelope said, unable to keep the hurt from her voice. “I suppose Aubrey Hall will always be your true home.”

“Penelope, you misunderstand. Look at me.” He cupped her face gently in his hands. “You are my home. The truest home I’ve ever had.” 

Her long, inky lashes slowly blinked, her eyes welling with tears. She leaned in to kiss him as gently as she could, and Colin knew without words that she felt it too.

Chapter Text

“We’ve finally arrived,” Penelope said with satisfaction, peering out the window at their snug little townhouse, which had just come into view. Her husband grinned and leaned forward to see for himself.

“Dunwoody will be very pleased to see us,” Colin said teasingly.

"Ah, yes,” Penelope replied. “I’m certain he hasn’t enjoyed the peace and quiet at all.” 

“Well, I’m ready for some quiet after being surrounded by my family for the past few weeks.” He paused for a moment, a mischievous twinkle lighting up his face. “Or perhaps quiet isn’t what I’m seeking, but rather privacy with my very tempting wife.”

Penelope gave a pleased little smile and blinked sweetly at him as he assisted her in stepping down from the carriage. Colin was nearly back to his usual strength now, and Penelope was relieved that his recovery had gone smoothly. 

They were home now and could settle back into the simple life they enjoyed in their townhouse. As her maid freshened her appearance after their journey, Penelope reflected on how much had changed since they departed. The unraveling of her secrets had come with such hurt and confusion. She recalled that horrid day, lying in bed and wondering how she would say goodbye to Colin when he left her. 

The wife she had grown into could scarcely imagine doubting her husband so. Colin had proven himself time and again, not only with grand gestures like defending her in front of Fife, but with how patient he was as she shared her heart with him. She no longer felt the urge to hide herself away. When she thought of how he had entrusted her with his care so completely at Aubrey Hall, she knew that he felt the same. 

______

After dinner, they retired to the drawing room, as it was too early yet for bed. Colin had tried to convince Penelope to retire, but she insisted that they would scandalize the servants if they did so. Nonetheless, he sighed contentedly as he settled into his favorite chair. It felt good to be home and once again the master of his own domain. 

“How shall we occupy ourselves this evening, my dear? Since you think it unwise to indulge me in my preferred activity.” 

Colin gave an exaggerated pout, and Penelope let out a peal of laughter. She knew that he was not truly cross with her, but he loved to make her blush with his teasing. 

“I would be remiss for not teaching you patience, since you saw fit to anticipate our wedding vows,” she replied playfully, fluttering her eyelashes at him. “You must learn to be good.”

“Somehow I don’t believe you truly wish for that, but I’ll concede for now. That still leaves the question of our entertainment this evening, however.”

Penelope cast her eyes about the room, thinking. Now that she had developed more friendships in the ton, their social calendar would be much busier when they were in town. She finally had Colin completely to herself again, and she didn’t wish to waste the opportunity. 

“Do you recall that I used to daydream of you often?” 

“How could I forget?” he asked with a smug smile. 

Penelope giggled. “Well, I’ve always wanted you to sing to me. Just the two of us. My heart would skip a beat whenever I visited Eloise and heard your lovely voice in the drawing room.” 

Colin’s heart was full whenever Penelope shared these moments with him. He had learned so much about her perspective during their friendship, and it was incredibly flattering to finally understand how much she valued him. She was smiling shyly now, for after the moment of confession she would often retreat back into herself until she felt sure of his reaction. It was endearing, and he always sought to reassure her. Colin rose and held out his hand to escort her to the pianoforte.

“I remember that when you entered the room, my stomach would fill with butterflies. Sometimes my voice would falter at the sight of your beautiful blue eyes watching me. Even then, I only wanted to win your favor.”

As Penelope sat on the bench, he swept her silky tresses aside, and kissed the gentle curve of her neck. He began looking through the sheet music on the bench, finally selecting a romantic song worthy of his bride.

“Will this suit?” he asked, allowing her to examine it for difficulty. In truth, he only knew that Penelope played because she mentioned it in passing. His darling wife wasn’t the type to exhibit publicly, preferring to keep her talents more discreet. But she trusted him to see her more fully, both her strengths and her weaknesses. And now music could be another pastime that they shared, better together than they could be on their own.

“Yes, this will do nicely,” she said, smiling up at him. 

The proper thing to do would have been to stand at a distance as she played, but he couldn’t resist the lure of pressing himself beside his wife’s soft body. He lavished another kiss on her neck before sitting beside her on the bench.

He had sung of love so many times, but it was different now. Penelope was love to him. He met her eyes whenever she looked up from the music and caressed her waist affectionately. It didn’t feel like singing, but like promising, like declaring . And instead of looking away demurely as she might have done in the past, Penelope appeared to be swept into the moment along with him. 

When the last notes drifted away, Colin leaned in to capture her lips with his, not wanting any awkward silence or hesitation to puncture the bubble of happiness they were in. But when Penelope pulled away, she still had that open expression in her eyes, so filled with love for him that he had to kiss her again. It was what he had hoped for all those months ago, and it was also so much more than he had ever expected. Penelope had so much affection to give now that she knew their love was steadfast.

“That was lovely, Colin. Thank you.”

“Only lovely? I thought I was fulfilling a most treasured dream.”

Penelope laughed. “If you must know, the only way you could have done so was by dropping to your knee after the song, declaring that I must marry you or you would go mad, and in a scandalous fit of passion, removing my glove so you could feel my bare hand in yours.”

“Mrs. Bridgerton!” Colin admonished with a grin. “I’m continually shocked by the wanton thoughts you hid behind such an innocent face.”

“There is only one way to manage a wife such as myself who is prone to breaking every rule of propriety.”

“And what is that?” 

“Remain by my side as often as possible,” she smiled. “Then you can ensure my good behavior.”

“It would be my pleasure,” he said, drawing off her satiny glove before kissing her hand. “Might I suggest we retire? I truly am back to my usual strength, Penelope.” 

She shivered at the tickling sensation he left behind as he worked his lips from his hand further up to her wrist. There was something in the way he studied her so seriously as he awaited her answer that made her heart beat faster. It had been so long since they were intimate, for though she had assisted Colin in meeting his needs toward the end of his convalescence, she had not permitted him to please her. He was so giving that she was certain he would overexert himself when caught in the heat of the moment.

But now, with the doctor’s approval and Colin’s own urging, she supposed it was time to resume her wifely duties. It was never that she didn’t want to, but—

“Are you entirely certain, Colin? What if it causes you pain?”

“I will be honest if it does, and we can stop. But Penelope, I miss you,” he said simply. 

“As do I,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. She thought for a moment as she nuzzled her cheek against his. Finally, she came to a decision. “I can’t resist you any longer. Please take me upstairs.”

Colin grinned at her eagerness, and her maid was a bit surprised at how she rushed through her toilette that evening. Her husband’s valet, on the other hand, seemed completely unsurprised by his master’s impatience. Now she was tucked into bed, staring at the candle’s flame on her nightstand, waiting for Colin to join her. 

“My wife is in my bed,” came a low tone behind her, and she turned to see that Colin had entered the room. “What a relief, for there was a time I had despaired of her ever coming back.” 

“Yes, you’ve been quite neglected,” Penelope replied in the same teasing tone. She allowed the covers to drop to her waist, revealing a new creation Madame Delacroix had sent over at Penelope’s request. It was an entirely unique design in the smoothest of pale blue silks, and she reveled in Colin’s reaction to the way the neckline dipped into a dangerously low V, almost to her waist. “I suppose you can’t forgive me, and I should seek other arrangements.”

“Wait one moment, Mrs. Bridgerton,” Colin said firmly, shedding his nightclothes and climbing into bed. “Not so hasty, if you please.”

“So you’re willing to overlook my transgressions?”

“Always, especially when you reward me with such a beautiful sight.” 

He knelt before her and his lips caressed her breasts, the scandalous nightgown aiding in his exploration. He easily nudged the satin to the side so that he could see her fully exposed. Her breath caught at the sheer pleasure of it, for she had wanted him so badly over the last weeks that she felt she might go mad. 

“I’ve missed you desperately,” she moaned in his ear. His only response was to take her nipple in his mouth, sucking at it slowly and making eye contact in the way he knew made her mindless with need. Seeing the desire in his eyes sent a jolt through her every time.

She ran her hands over the hard planes of his chest, so very grateful that he had healed and was once again himself. Colin was warm and alive, and he was hers to keep. It brought tears to her eyes to think of how close they had come to losing one another. Suddenly even his nearness wasn’t enough and she pulled her nightgown off so she could feel him skin to skin.

“Closer,” she urged, spreading her legs so he could find his home there, but Colin leaned back to examine her, hearing the desperation in her voice.

“What is it, Pen?”

“I love you,” she said softly, hooking one leg around his waist to draw him near. “So much that I fear my heart can’t bear any distance between us.” 

Colin had gone completely still in her arms, and she feared for a moment that she had dampened his passion with her confession. Instead, he spoke in a low tone, the intensity reverberating through her.  “And I love you. Nothing will separate us, and I intend to prove it.”

He immediately made good on his promise, pressing open mouthed kisses to her neck and along her collar bone. His whispered words of devotion were so heated that she felt them burning into her skin, becoming a part of her very being. Between gasps and moans, she whispered her adoration back, tracing her hands everywhere she could reach and trying to return the pleasure he gave her so selflessly. 

“How do you want me?” he rumbled in her ear, and she clenched around nothing, desperate to feel him inside of her but never wanting this to end.

“Slow and deep, I should think,” she instructed, kissing his neck and then biting at it. Colin groaned as he dragged his lips down over her stomach, marking her as he went. She watched his languid movements as he touched her, his chestnut hair becoming increasingly disheveled as she ran her hands through his locks. He must have felt her gaze for he looked up, his blue eyes hazy and beautiful. 

“I’m so empty, love,” she said pleadingly. “And you’re so handsome, I don’t wish to wait another moment.”

He dutifully moved his hand between her thighs in that possessive way that made her heart race. Penelope had always known she was his, and when he laid claim to her in such a way, nothing could compare. Toying gently with her most sensitive place, he obediently filled her with two of his fingers as she gasped. Then he leaned in and began lapping at her bud. 

“Colin,” she breathed out, “you know that isn’t what I meant. Please.”

Colin sucked at her gently before lifting his head with tender eyes. “I’ve been missing your taste, darling. Indulge me.” 

When he looked at her like that, she could never deny him anything he wished. Especially when his desire aligned so perfectly with her own to be close with him. With each flick of his tongue and artful caress, Colin declared himself to her, and with each responding moan, she expressed her desire for him. It had been that way from the beginning, and Penelope lost herself in their shared language again, giving and taking in equal measure. Before long, she was crying out in a release unlike any she had had in weeks.

After, he obeyed her wishes by sinking into her tenderly, allowing her to enjoy that first perfect moment of being filled that was always the most satisfying. Again and again, he dragged himself back, only to press deeper on each repetition. Penelope wrapped her legs tightly around him, wanting him to know that he was hers.

“I love you,” Penelope moaned when he hit an exceptionally sensitive spot. She had never allowed herself to say it while he was inside her before, and she was surprised at how arousing it was. She wondered now how she hadn’t realized how much he loved her the first time they were in bed together. For now, when she looked in his eyes, there was no mistaking all that he felt for her. 

“I love you too,” he groaned. “Penelope, should we try to make a baby?” 

His eyes were glowing with hope, and when she nodded, they absolutely sparked to life. He kept a steady pace, but she could see it was increasingly difficult for him to hold back. It was intoxicating to feel his hips move so firmly against her and watch his face as he fought for control. 

“You’re going to be so beautiful when you’re with child,” he murmured as he moved even more desperately. 

“Let go, Colin. I want to feel you,” she panted.

She felt him shudder within her with a final cry of her name, and it sent her toppling over the edge in ecstasy. Tears sprang to her eyes as she felt him so warm and firm on top of her. There was nothing like being joined with her husband, and to have him inside of her when they gave each other such pleasure only made it more intimate.

“Don’t move,” she ordered, wrapping her legs tighter around his waist as she clung to him. “I want to feel you like this always.”

Colin breathed in her scent deeply, basking in the feeling of lying together intertwined. “It feels complete this way.”

“It does. I’m sorry I made you wait so long,” Penelope said softly.

Colin rested on his elbows so he could look down at her face. “Penelope, you only did the best you could, as did I. Allowing oneself to be loved isn’t as simple as it's made out to be. Your decision encouraged us to talk about how we felt rather than falling headlong into parenthood before we knew our own hearts. And now, if we are blessed with a child, we’ll know that they were created in love.”

Penelope nodded and reached up to place her hand over his heart. “I can scarcely believe this belongs to me now.”

“Everything I am belongs to you,” Colin vowed as he searched her eyes, and then he was stealing her breath, kissing her as if she would disappear if he let her go. It was some time before further words were spoken and when they were curled up together again, completely sated, Penelope was convinced that Colin’s words were true.

______

Colin reached over to Penelope’s side of the bed the third time she rolled over. The bed covers were becoming a nightmare with all of her twisting and turning. He could tell from the house’s silence that it was still the wee hours of the morning, too early for even the scullery maid to be about. 

“What is it, Pen?” he asked, beckoning her closer by stroking her fiery curls. 

“I’m sorry to wake you. I’m having trouble settling back to sleep,” she confided, snuggling up to his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her. 

“What is it, Pen?” When she didn’t answer, but only gave a frustrated little huff, Colin squeezed her tighter. “Come now, Penelope, you know you feel better once you share your secrets with me.”

“How did you know I’m keeping a secret?”

Penelope looked over at him sharply, and Colin smirked. He knew his wife much better than she gave him credit for and he reveled in the victory. 

“If I told you, I would give away my advantage.” Penelope’s mouth dropped open at his audacity and Colin couldn’t help but laugh. “But I’m far less interested in the fact that you have a secret, and much more interested in what the secret entails.”

Colin reached over and placed his hand on Penelope’s belly, caressing it gently. “Might it have to do with a most precious Bridgerton?”

“It may, but I’m not certain yet. If I am, it's early days,” Penelope replied softly, covering his hand with her own. “Does that please you?”

“I’m overjoyed, Penelope. You must know you can always confide in me about these things. 

“I didn’t want to disappoint you if I’m wrong,” she admitted. “I want to give you an heir so badly.”

Colin kissed her cheek sweetly. “You could never, ever disappoint me. Our family is a joint project, just as when we help one another with our writing. You should never feel you’re alone, either in the sorrow or the joy of it.” 

Penelope laced her fingers through his. “I’m glad you know. Now I have someone to share in my excitement and my worries.” 

“All will be well, Penelope. I’m certain of it.” 

They lay together for several minutes, Colin never moving his hand from her soft stomach. He could already feel a small swell there and in a matter of months she would be round with child. The thought of it caught his breath in his chest and he had to be closer. He sat up and pushed Penelope’s nightgown up until her belly was exposed. He lay his head there, pressing kisses against it between whispers to the baby, introducing himself and assuring the child of his love.

Penelope watched him with tears in her eyes. “You’re going to be a father,” she finally said in an awed tone.

Colin lifted his head with a tender smile. “And you, my love, are going to be the most wonderful mother.”

Penelope ran her fingers through his hair, musing as she did if the baby would have his chestnut locks or her red curls. “How did you know?”

Colin shrugged. “If you really wish to know, I saw fit to ask Dorsett for help during his visits to me at Aubrey Hall. I know embarrassingly little about it, and I wanted to be prepared for fatherhood.”

“You are the finest man, Colin.” 

He shrugged humbly, and then Penelope looked at him with a knowing look in her eye. When she did that little lift of her eyebrow, Colin knew he had been caught out somehow.

“Now that you’ve uncovered my secret, I wish to know yours. You aren’t the only one who can tell when something is amiss.”

Colin looked up at her sheepishly and came to lie beside her again. When he had settled with his arms around her, he sighed. “My solicitor has located a larger house for us.”

Penelope’s face lit up. “But that’s wonderful news! Especially with our little arrival coming soon.”

“I suppose,” he replied glumly.

“What seems to be the problem? It won’t suit our needs?”

“No, it’s lovely and the location is excellent. I went to see it today. But it has adjoining bedchambers for the master and mistress of the house. I’m not ready to give up our little nest yet.”

Colin felt lighter as he shared his misgivings with his wife. Her eyes softened, and although he was almost certain she wouldn’t laugh at him, it was still reassuring that she was taking him seriously.

“Even if the house has 100 rooms, I will still share your bed for as long as you like.”

“Truly? That is your wish?” Colin never tired of her praises and reassurances, so while he knew the answer, he wanted to hear it from her own strawberry lips. 

“Truly. Darling, you know that we could have had separate rooms here even though there are none adjoining. There are three furnished bedchambers.” She smirked at him mischievously, and Colin’s mouth dropped open.

“Why did you never say anything?” 

“For the same reason you presented sharing this bed as our only option,” she said as she ran her hands  appreciatively over his broad chest. “When we married, I could think of nothing better than sleeping beside you every night and waking up next to you each morning. Just as your body longs for mine, mine longs for you.”

Colin grinned and leaned in to kiss her neck. “You are incorrigible, Mrs. Bridgerton. I thought you were too innocent to notice.”

“No, simply too enamored with my husband to admit it.” She snuggled closer to him, finding that perfect spot against his shoulder to nestle her head, and allowed a quiet yawn to escape.

“Now that we have both confessed our secrets, you need your rest. You and our little one. First, I shall sing the baby a lullaby, and you may listen if you wish. Then, I will rub your back while you fall asleep.” He stroked her hair softly as she giggled.

“Is this the sort of overbearing behavior I can expect for the next few months?”

“If you mean, do I plan to dote over you and the baby? Do I plan to do everything in my power to keep you both safe and happy? The answer is yes.” 

Colin smiled at her unrepentantly. Penelope leaned in to place a soft kiss on his mouth and watched as he laid his head on her stomach and began to sing. He really would be such a lovely father. As she rolled on her side, and let his familiar hands lull her to sleep, she felt more grateful than ever that he was her own.

______

Colin came upon Penelope in the study, her hands on her hips as the footmen and Dunwoody rearranged furniture. The housekeeper stood by, wringing her hands a little as she watched the loosely organized chaos unfold. His brow furrowed as he took in the exhaustion on his wife’s face. 

“Why are you standing, my love?” 

She approached him, and he couldn’t resist the urge to place his hands on her bump despite the presence of the servants. Her face was flushed pink, and she was blowing wisps of auburn hair out of her eyes in frustration. In Colin’s eyes, she had never been more beautiful.

“I can’t get this room arranged to my satisfaction. The nursery is nearlycomplete, but this is an utter wreck.”

Colin wasn’t able to detect anything amiss. Apart from the panting footmen and exasperated looking Dunwoody. Colin nodded discreetly to the housekeeper, and she began shooing the footmen from the room, closing the door behind her. Dunwoody bowed and indicated he would be back shortly with refreshments for them.  

Once they were alone, Penelope’s shoulders dropped and he began to rub her growing belly reassuringly. He felt a soft kick and held back a grin. Colin took her hand and escorted her to the settee. He hovered around her for a moment, ensuring that the pillows were arranged to offer her enough support. Then he pulled her legs up into his lap, removing the slippers from her swollen feet so he could rub them. She let out a sigh of relief and closed her eyes.

“Penelope, what is truly concerning you? We have been working in this room for weeks and you seemed to like the arrangement.”

His wife hummed quietly in contemplation and he allowed her time to think. While it was second nature by now to share their concerns with one another, at times Penelope wasn’t sure of what she was feeling or why she was behaving in a certain way. Finally, she opened her eyes and cast a worried look at him. 

“I know we agreed to have two desks so that we can work side by side—but what if I can’t complete my novel by the time the baby arrives? What if I never write again? Or what if things change between us and you no longer wish for my company during the day?”

“Oh, Pen.” Colin helped her to climb into his lap so that she could rest in his arms. She had tried to protest earlier in the pregnancy, but he insisted she sit there when she needed comfort. “I will always wish for your company. When the baby arrives, our life will be different. And each of us will likely change, much as we did when we became husband and wife. But that doesn’t mean we’ll grow apart. Having a family will be a shared venture, one that we can enjoy together.”

Penelope’s blue eyes remained clouded with insecurity. “My parents led separate lives for the most part while my mother raised us. It’s difficult for me to imagine another way. And I want to be your Pen no matter how many children we have.”

Colin leaned his forehead to hers, understanding her concern because he had moments of doubt as well. “We are more alike than you think. It sounds frightfully arrogant, but I rather like being the focus of your attention. My fear is that I will no longer be the most important person in your life; that you will no longer need me.”

Penelope wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him softly on the mouth. Then she took his hands and rested them on top of where the baby was moving so they could feel it together. 

“Thank you for telling me that. We both agree that this baby is the most precious one in the entire world, and that’s because our shared love for him or her is so immense. But Colin, I adore you. I will always need you and our love and our friendship. You’re irreplaceable.”

“Penelope, that is precisely how I feel about you. It may take some time, but we will always have each other. I could never let go of you.”

When Dunwoody knocked lightly on the door later to bring their tea, he found his master and mistress happily writing side by side, their desks so close that he suspected they had been holding hands before he entered the room.

______

The labor was long, as his mother and the doctor had warned him to expect. The most maddening aspect was the way his mother and Eloise tried to escort him out of the room at every turn. Colin found it ridiculous that his mother and sister thought him too fragile to help his own wife while she was in pain. Especially when Penelope had confessed that she was frightened and wanted him there. He tried to keep perspective by reminding himself that it would all be so much worse if Penelope’s mother and sisters were not staying in the country at the moment.

He was holding Penelope’s hand through a labor pain as she paced. She had woken with the first pangs in the middle of the night and was in constant motion whenever they came upon her. Once they subsided, she would request his embrace. He was in constant awe at how strong and focused she was as she brought their child into the world.

“Colin, we should move her to her own bedchamber. This will not be a neat and tidy process,” his mother suggested. “Why don’t you go and wait with Anthony and Benedict in the study? They’ve come to keep you company.” 

Penelope’s body stiffened in his hold and her fingers dug into his back as she clung to him. He felt annoyed at his mother for distracting him when he wished to focus on his wife. Resting his chin on Penelope’s soft red hair, he responded firmly.

“Mother, this is our bedchamber and the baby will be delivered here. Penelope feels safe in this room. As for leaving, I promise not to be a distraction. However, my wife wants my comfort, and I will not deprive her of it.”

To Colin’s surprise, Violet nodded in understanding even as Eloise rolled her eyes. “Your father was much the same way. It was difficult to keep him out of the birthing room for long.”

Penelope spoke up then, “Colin knows what I need. I will be more at ease if he stays.”

Colin met her eyes reassuringly and whispered in her ear, “I will stay unless you wish for my absence. I promise.” 

The hours grew long, and he could see the fatigue setting in by the time Penelope was instructed to push. She lay in the bed, her brow glowing with perspiration, and Colin applied cool compresses to comfort her between the pains that were coming on at an overwhelming pace. 

“I love you, Pen,” he whispered in her ear after a particularly difficult contraction. She gripped his hand more firmly than before and cried out as the next wave washed over her.

It became a blur as the baby’s arrival grew imminent. All of Colin’s focus was on Penelope’s face. She was so strong and determined that his heart was full of pride for his wife. There was fear too, as he wouldn’t rest easy until both she and the baby were safe. He knew all too well the danger she was in, but he tried to maintain a calm demeanor for his wife’s sake. When at last their daughter was placed in her arms, Penelope looked exhausted but joyful. 

“Hello, little one,” she murmured as she held the little bundle close. “I’m your mama and I love you so dearly. And this is your papa.” Penelope looked over at him happily.

“You’re here,” Colin said reverently, reaching out to cradle the little one’s cheek with his hand. The plump softness of her face was so endearing and he instantly fell in love. Tears welled in his eyes as he watched Penelope take the baby to her breast for the first time, the midwife assisting her. This was his family—he and Penelope had created it together. He couldn’t tell yet if the baby would have his wife’s red hair as he had been hoping for, but she had grayish blue eyes that were exactly the shape of her mother’s. 

The afternoon passed quickly as various members of the family came to greet the newest addition to the family, and they settled on naming the baby Agatha. Colin had spent hours simply holding the little girl, examining her tiny feet and looking into her wide eyes whenever she was awake. To his immense pride, he seemed to have a knack for settling her when she cried, especially when he sang soothingly to her while he bounced her in his arms. Penelope watched them together as she rested against the pillows, her eyes so full of adoration for them both that Colin couldn’t resist kissing her frequently. He ensured that his wife had all of her favorite foods to restore her after the birth and kept visitors at bay when they overstayed their welcome.

Now it was time for all of them to rest, and Colin had given Dunwoody strict orders to keep everyone away so that Penelope could recover her strength. Earlier, he had left his wife while she was bathed and the linens changed, but he knew he would not be away from his girls for the night no matter what anyone thought. He had dismissed the nursemaid to the nursery while he lay with Penelope in their bed. It was unconventional, but what did Colin Bridgerton care for convention when he could be caring for his wife?

Penelope was in a fresh nightgown and looked much refreshed as he tucked the covers around her tenderly. Her breathing deepened as she drifted into a well deserved sleep. Agatha was lying peacefully in her cradle beside the bed, her sweetness enhanced by the swaddled blanket wrapped around her. Colin had never seen a more adorable bundle of tiny personhood and he doubted he ever would. He simply stared at her in wonder, trying to memorize every expression that passed over her face as she dreamed.

When he was certain all was well, Colin closed his eyes and tried to calm his thoughts, which were still filled with the excitement of the day. He listened to the quiet mewling noises that baby Agatha made in her sleep and felt the warmth of his wife’s form so close beside him. Never had he felt so whole. Penelope had given him a beautiful daughter. He vowed to love them and protect them both for as long as he lived.

Colin was still lost in thought when his little girl let out a high pitched cry and Penelope stirred. He quickly rose to fetch the baby for her, knowing that she was quite sore from the exertions of labor.

“She’s a hungry little babe, isn’t she? She must take after her father,” Penelope said sleepily as she settled Agatha at her breast.

“Indeed, but have you seen her sweet face? She will take after her mother in beauty,” Colin replied. He pressed closely against his wife, stroking her red hair away from her face as she nourished their child. It warmed his heart to see her as the nurturing mother he had always known she would be.  

Penelope looked up at him adoringly. “I love you, Colin.”

“I love you, too. Thank you for giving me such a precious child.”

He gently kissed her, careful not to disturb the baby. So many times he had thought he couldn’t love Penelope more, but time and time again he was proven wrong. His capacity for love only seemed to grow with each experience they shared, with every part of her heart that she revealed.

When the baby had finally had her fill and been placed in her cradle, Colin held Penelope, dropping kisses against her temple and soothing her with his hands.

“You should rest, love,” Colin whispered. “Aggie’s birthday was a long day for you.”

“It’s difficult to sleep, although I’m tired,” Penelope admitted. “My body has never felt so battered and bruised.”

Colin clucked sympathetically. “Shall I sing you to sleep?” 

At her nod, he began to softly sing her favorite lullabye, the one he sang to baby Agatha each night during the pregnancy. Penelope’s eyelids grew heavy and he heard that soft breathing that meant she was asleep. He gradually softened his voice until it had gone entirely silent in the room, and all he could hear was Penelope’s rhythmic breathing and the occasional coos coming from Aggie’s cradle. He placed a kiss on his wife’s forehead and lay back, looking up at the ceiling of the bedchamber they shared. Colin knew that he should sleep as well, but for now, he basked in his contentment, lost in thoughts about how his small, perfect family had come to be, and all the joyful memories to come.