Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Colin woke to the smell of the sea coming in on a warm breeze from an open window, and an empty bottle of wine in his hand.

“Ugh,” he groaned, his head still heavy from the night before. He opened his eyes slightly only to close them immediately, the bright light painfully piercing into his brain. His hand let go of the neck of the bottle and felt around him, the rough sheets and coarse blanket indicating to him that he at least made it to a bed before passing out. It was quite possibly the lumpiest, most uncomfortable bed he’d ever had the displeasure of sleeping on, certainly a far cry from his down feather mattress in his London home. His location did not immediately come to mind, though he knew he was not rocking with the movement of waves, so he was not on his ship. He took a deep breath, and opened his eyes fully, bearing the pain while he waited for them to adjust. The ceiling was made of wood, but it was much higher than his usual cabin. The bright June sun in the cloudless sky left beams of light on the wall in front of him, illuminating the rest of the fairly dim lodgings. He swung his legs around and rested his feet on the dirty wood floor. He sat up and took in the rest of the room.

It was quite small, with a half-burnt candle and a puddle of wax on a box being used as a makeshift nightstand to his left. The space was only large enough to accommodate the small bed, each end touching a wall of the room, the nightstand, and a narrow door that led into what he assumed was a hallway. He spotted a chamber pot in the far corner and moved to slip on his boots and start lacing them up.

He heard muffled voices down the hallway outside his door, and the details of his situation came rushing back. They were docked somewhere to the north of Spain, doing some minor trading and restocking of supplies before their final leg home. It was their usual spot for making a quick overnight resupply, and as such he’d already identified the familiar, thundering steps of the only innkeeper in the tiny port town, stomping up the stairs to his room to wake him, and the apologetic tone of his first mate, Phillip, speaking in Spanish, probably trying to keep the man from tossing him out the window.

The door swung open with a thud, and the Spanish innkeeper began rapidly chastising him. He caught most of it, but Phil, his brownish head peaking out from behind the shorter man’s head, was already translating what his sleep-muddled brain couldn’t. “You’ve overslept again. We need to leave, now, lest we overstay our welcome even further,” Phillip hurried him. The innkeeper, his name escaping him at the moment, stood behind Phillip sternly, his arms crossed and feet planted, glaring him down. Colin knew, based on the position of the sun above, he had indeed slept in a bit too long, and the man had every right to be angry.

“Yes, alright, I’m up. Be down in a tick,” he lifted himself up from the lumpy mattress, trying to shake out any lingering aches and pains, and shuffled over to the chamber pot.

“We don’t have a tick, you can piss off the dock,” Phillip grabbed him by the back of his dark blue shirt and pushed him past the grumbling Spanish man.

Miguel. His name is Miguel.

“Gracias, señor Miguel! Te veo pronto!” Colin called out behind him with a little wave he hoped was friendly. There weren’t many convenient places to stop on the north coast of Spain that were relatively small, and it wouldn’t do for him to be banned from the inn. Smaller port towns made it easier to travel unnoticed by other ships, and the residents were less likely to mention their presence to other crews that passed through if presented with the right amount of coin. Considering the huge amount of wine stuffed in barrels on his ship that the British government would never know about, he could use all of the help available to him.

“Bah!” the understandably grumpy man responded, throwing his hands up and moving to clean up the now-vacated room.

Phillip continued shoving him down the stairs. “Did you really have to drink so much wine last night? You disappeared two hours after dinner.”

“What’s the point of smuggling if you don’t indulge yourself every once in a while?” Colin glanced back at him with a smirk.

“I don’t think drinking half the wine we are supposed to be selling on the black market each crossing is ‘every once in a while,’ Captain,” Phillip admonished, directing him through the common room and towards the door. Colin snagged his long brown coat off the coat rack as he was shoved over the threshold.

“You’re too reasonable, Phil. We make quite the team.” They’d reached the outside of the inn, conveniently located right next to the dock. Colin’s ship, The Lady Whistledown, stood proud and fully stocked, all the way at the end, her sails already unfurled and ready for them to weigh anchor and embark once more. It was one of the newest and grandest ships owned by the British East India Company, a barque with three masts and build for speed and ease of maneuvering, green in color with beautiful gold detailing and a carving of a mermaid decorating the prow. He’d been captain of this particular ship for a year now, and he’d sailed her all over Europe and a bit of Africa, making his way around the Iberian Peninsula, across the Mediterranean Sea, over to Greece, Turkey, Israel, Egypt, with stops in Italy, Malta, Cyprus, and Sardinia along the way, to collect exotic luxury goods and foods to sell back in England. He also smuggled wine into the country so he didn’t have to pay the import fees, but no one knew about that but Phil.

“Take your piss and we best be off,” Phillip urged. “We’re making the crossing through the Devil’s Port today. We’ll need all the extra time we can get, after your lie-in,” he ribbed.

“Aye, Captain,” Colin sassed. Phillip rolled his eyes and took the gangway up to the deck as Colin relieved himself over the side of the dock.

Colin smiled, thinking of whom he would get to see later that day.

Devil’s Port was one of the most dangerous areas of the Bay of Biscay for any sailor, with unpredictable weather, harsh rocks, deep trenches, and only one small, almost unreachable island should you shipwreck, which happened quite often for how little it was traveled.

Most sailors took the long way around to get back to England, not finding the risks of Devil’s Port worth the time it saved. It wasn’t called that for nothing; it was thought that the Devil himself inhabited the waters, and called many ships to the docks of Hell with his storms, fog, and ship-breaking coral formations barely visible under the water. Too many men had lost their lives because of a hasty decision made by an inexperienced leader to try to cross the unforgiving area, and most steered clear.

Not Colin, though.

He was famously the only sailor and captain to ever make multiple trips through the waters, time and time again. His older crewmen always had to reassure the newer men that yes, indeed, they would find safe passage under the direction of Captain Colin Bridgerton. No one knew why or how, but their captain had a routine; he would stop them midway through, get on a rowboat, and row himself off into a thick fog for an hour. He would always return, then the fog would clear, and they would be either off to the Mediterranean or on home to England depending on where they were in their journey.

“Right then, lads! Let’s get going! Set sail for Devil’s Port!” he ordered as he boarded the ship. The crew, who’d anxiously been waiting for their captain to finally wake up, began unhitching various rigging to catch the wind in the sails, and pulled up the anchor.

Some of the younger boys, who had only sailed with him a time or two, still showed blatant fear in their eyes. Just last night while they had dinner, another sailor described a furious storm that came from nowhere while they tried to make the passing. His large brig capsized, and he only managed to survive by clinging to pieces of wood as he drifted back to the continent. He’d waited at the small Spanish port town to see if any of his fellow seamen might turn up, but after six days the outlook seemed bleak. The newest members of Colin’s crew knew they were to sail Devil’s Port the next day, and a couple tried to beg him to reconsider before he threatened to leave them in Spain should they dare question their Captain’s judgment again.

They didn’t know Colin had a secret.

Colin had a friend.

As they embarked, the sails full and wind pushing them strong and true, he set their course and then moved into the Captain’s cabin to chart the rest of their journey.

As captain, his quarters were larger than what the other officers and crew were given, but still fairly small. He had a full-sized bed shoved into one corner, and a desk that doubled as a nightstand next to it. Almost every available surface, including several shelves in his wardrobe, were dedicated to collecting books and papers, a few dedicated areas collecting plates and cups. He sat down on his well-worn chair, uncorked his bottle of ink, opened one of his draws and found a quill, and got to work, the rocking of the ship lulling him into a rhythm.

The running of a ship came easy to him. He started off as a sailor at 19, wanting to make a name for himself. He worked for only a few years before he was trusted enough to captain a ship. At first, there were many who called favoritism, thinking his older brother, Anthony, used money and his position as a viscount to help him purchase a higher place within the trading company. It was entirely untrue, and Colin became an adept seaman without help from his family, but such was the fate of someone born with a prominent name trying to make their own way in the world.

However, it was quickly realized that there was no favoring when it came to Colin Bridgerton; he was simply that fantastic of a Captain. He could turn even the heftiest of ships on a dime, chart a course in his sleep, avoid the nastiest of disasters and weather the most furious of storms. Now, at the age of 28, he was well-known as one of the finest captains in all of England, if not all of Europe.

The smuggling of liquor and wine was more for fun than anything else.

One of the cabin boys brought him a meal, some roast chicken and vegetables picked up in town the night before. He wasted a few hours, charting, writing in his captain’s log, going down to the supplies and stores, and updating his lists. When most of his work was complete, he found himself reading a terrible mystery novel and fiddling nervously with the hoop earring in his left ear (a feature which his mother absolutely abhorred when he showed up with it after his first big trip as a captain), when Phillip entered the cabin. “Captain, we’re about to enter Devil’s Port. The fog is horrendous. I believe you’ll be needed at the helm to steer. I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it in these conditions.”

“Right then,” he got up from his chair too quickly, the excitement already building in his bones.

He stepped out onto the deck and the fog was, indeed, a thing to behold. It was so thick, the bow nearly disappeared, and the tops of the sails were invisible. From what he could ascertain, they were still full and the boat moved along swiftly, so he stepped up to the helm and started to navigate.

“Prepare to stop at the mid-point,” he ordered. It took nearly a full day to navigate the treacherous rocks and rough waves, but he had to make his regular stop before he could finish the crossing.

The wait was agony. He constantly called out orders to his crew to redirect the sails and aid in his steering of the ship, avoiding sharp rocks on both sides. It was hard, difficult work, even for an experienced captain, and before he knew it, they’d made it to a quiet, familiar opening in the water.

“Is it time, Captain?” Phillip appeared beside him.

“Indeed, it is. Lads! Ease the sails and prepare me a dinghy!” he shouted as he moved away from the helm. He almost skipped down to the deck before opening the door to the cabins and retrieving his gift for his friend.

At first, he brought her things in hopes of appeasing her, keeping her happy and holding her favor, thinking if she liked him, she wouldn’t create a storm to capsize his boat like the first time they met. After the fifth visit, though, he realized that he truly liked watching her face light up when he presented her with whatever he thought she might like. Sometimes it was a beautiful comb for her hair, a pretty shell he found in Spain, a glass-bead necklace he bought in Italy. It changed every time, and every time she acted with the same amount of glee.

He liked to see her happy.

This time, he intended to bring her a beautiful jeweled chain, meant to be a decorative belt but he thought she could use it any way she liked, in her hair, around her neck, on her arms. It was incredibly well-crafted, though the stones were likely made of paste, but he’d bought it from another sailor who “found it” in Persia. He wasn’t one to question an item’s origins, and he was sure she would love it all the same. She adored anything colorful and glittery, and he loved the bright smile she gave him when he pulled his gifts from his pocket, as if she were surprised every time even though he’d yet to meet her without something for her.

He once again entered the main deck, his dinghy in the water, still tied to the ship, and a ladder ready for him to descend.

“Try not to take too long, this time,” Phillip appeared beside him. “We don’t have much to spare this go around.”

“You know I’m not one to make a promise like that,” Colin jested as he carefully backed up over the edge and stepped onto the first rung.

“I know, I still feel like I have to say it anyway.”

Colin laughed. “Remember, if I’m not back by nightfall, stay put overnight and send someone out in the morning. We’ll be safe here that long.”

“Yes, Captain.”

He climbed down and settled onto the wooden seat, feeling the pocket inside his brown trench coat to make sure his gift was still secure. He then grabbed the oars and started to row.

He rowed out far enough so he could no longer see The Lady Whistledown, and kept rowing a bit more, just to be safe. His friend was quite shy, and wouldn’t appear unless they were truly alone, unseen by any other humans. She knew how to make herself known when she felt he’d gone far enough.

He heard a faint, ethereal singing, almost echoing around him. He stopped rowing, and pulled the oars into the boat, and began to wait.

The fog seemed to grow even thicker, and he could barely see more than fifteen feet around the tiny dinghy. He smiled and started looking out into the water.

He scanned the small waves in each direction, in front of the bow, to the port and starboard, even turning around to check behind the stern. He rapidly searched the water, eyes flicking to every movement over and over, the singing growing louder as each second passed by, he looked and waited, his anticipation building, and then—

A splash of red, just over the starboard side, not ten feet away, still submerged beneath the deep blue water.

He shifted to look over the side and watched as the red splotch grew and grew, like a flame, and then almost all of a sudden, her head arose from the sea. Just the top at first, only her blue eyes visible, her hair slicked back from her face, but he could see her grin below the surface, the rest of her copper curls floating around her, gently swaying in the waves. He saw a flash beneath her, and knew it to be the scales of her blue tail shimmering as she moved. She flipped her fin and more of her body lifted from the water. She was bedecked in various jewels, shells, and beads, bracelets covering her arms, charms dangling from her ears, a crown of iridescent shells from Venice that he brought her on her head, and dozens of glittery necklaces hanging down onto her neck and chest. She was naked, the jewelry and her long red hair almost covering her large breasts but not quite, her rosy nipples peeking out between the curls and gold chains and jewels, but she was unashamed of her visible body. Her skin was pale, pinkish in tone, and glimmered with water droplets even in the dim, foggy light. He could see on each side of her neck, just visible beneath her hair and layers of beads, a set of four slits, for now pressed in tightly, closed up. Her gills.

He must have been staring at her in open-mouthed awe, as he was wont to do each time they met, because she giggled as she swam over to him, her tinkling laugh echoing like her singing. She liked to poke fun at him a little, when he got like this. He was still amazed at her existence even though they’d been meeting like this for seven years, and she thought it hysterical that he never seemed to get over the thrill.

He grinned from ear to ear, already leaning over the side of the boat, reaching out a hand to her. She grasped his fingers with hers, and he pulled her up slightly so she could lean up onto the edge, her head resting in her hands, the metal of her jewelry clinking on the wood.

“Hello Colin,” she smiled wide, dripping saltwater onto the boat and his knees, the droplets rolling off his oiled brown coat and onto his boots. He bent forward and grasped one of her hands in his, kissing her fingers, her wrist, her palm, before leaning in and planting a soft, gentle kiss on her forehead. She still tasted of the sea, salt coating his lips before he licked it off with his tongue.

He reached a hand over to cup her face so he could whisper in her ear.

“Hello, Penelope.”

Chapter Text

Colin smiled at his mermaid friend.

“How’ve you been since I saw you last?” he asked her, stroking her fingers with his.

“Much the same,” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “My mother’s been watching me closely as of late. She knows of my fascination with humans, and it was difficult to get away from her today. She tries to keep me in her sights at all times, unfortunately.”

“Even more than usual?”

“Yes. I think…she might be catching on,” Penelope sighed. She’d explained before that the only reason she’d been able to help hide Colin before, disguising his ship in fog and sending him a strong wind to help push him faster through Devil’s Port, is because her mother didn’t seem to care what she did. She could easily slip away and make the excuse that she was practicing her singing or rearranging her trinket collection. The excuse didn’t really matter, because her mother didn’t think she would ever do anything of note.

Penelope had always been odd, to her family. She’d always tried to speak up for the ships that crossed through their territory, trying to find a suitable reason to not capsize or sink them in a storm, but usually it was dismissed. Her mother had explained the reasoning behind defending their home in such a manner time and time again, but eventually gave up when she realized her daughter was inherently different from her sisters.

The past year or so, Penelope told Colin that her mother was getting increasingly frustrated with her lack of enthusiasm for killing seamen. She wasn’t taking her regular excuses as easily, and she was finding it harder and harder to hide the presence of Colin’s boat before her mother or one of her sisters discovered it. Especially this newest one, The Lady Whistledown he called it. This one was large, and a little more slow-moving that his last. Between the size of the ship and her mother suddenly trying to convert her to the attack-first-ask-questions-later manner of defense, Penelope was more than a little bit stressed and worried.

“Here, maybe this will make your day better,” he grinned, reaching into the inner pocket of his coat.

“Oh, Colin, you know you don’t—”

“I know, I know, but I love the way you smile at me every time,” he grasped the jeweled gold chain and pulled it free.

“Oh, so pretty! It’s so sparkly!” Pen exclaimed. “What is this?” she asked, reaching to touch the gold.

“It’s meant to be a belt, but I thought you could wrap it a few times around your neck or arms. I knew you would like the stones in it,” he explained as he handed it over to her.

Already she wound the jewelry around her neck thrice and clasped the end together.

“I’m glad you like it. I thought of you when I saw it, and well…I had to get it for you,” he smiled and kissed her on her cheek again. “I like to see you happy.”

“Thank you, Colin. I love it,” she glimmered as she fiddled with her necklaces, rearranging them so they all hung correctly.

It only started recently, this casual touching and kissing. Over the past winter, he’d taken a three-month break in London and endured his mother’s pestering to finally settle down and find a wife. It drove him absolutely mad, and when he finally saw Pen again he was so happy to see her that he let the urge to press his lips to her forehead overcome him. At first she froze, but then she giggled and asked if this was a new, strange human behavior he was showing her, and from then on he couldn’t help himself. Her laugh made him happier than anything in the world, and he would do anything to hear it. Now he regularly kissed and touched her hands and forehead, but never anything more.

He wanted to kiss her on the lips, but…

Every sailor knew what happened after a Siren’s Kiss.

There were tales of being dragged down into the ocean, a curse put on the man only broken by death, an incredible illness that overwhelmed a sailor in days. The stories varied, but the outcome was always the same; a kiss from a mermaid meant your certain demise.

And though he trusted Penelope, he…he liked her, he didn’t know if that meant anything. He didn’t think she would do anything to him. She’d saved him, more than once according to her. But he didn’t know if whatever magic she had would kill him without discernment, without thought from either of them.

He wasn’t quite ready to risk it.

He was getting awfully close, though.

“I can’t stay much longer, I’m afraid. We had a late start today, and as much as I trust you, I would like to leave Devil’s Port by sundown,” he regretted.

She looked sad, but resigned, “I understand. When will you be here next?”

“I don’t plan on staying in London more than a few days. Just long enough to offload the ship and give the men a couple days respite before we go again. It’s summer, so I want to take advantage of the nice weather,” he explained.

“All the better for me,” she grinned.

“I’ll see you in another month, probably,” he kissed her hand.

“I’ll keep an eye out for you,” she kissed his hand back.

They released each other, and she slipped back from the rowboat. He settled the oars back into the oarlocks, and Pen started to swim in fast circles around him. He laughed, and she popped her head back above water, giggling and smiling, her small hand just raising above the surface to waggle her fingers in a little wave.

“Goodbye, Colin.”

“Goodbye, Pen. I’ll see you soon!” he shouted as he started to move away.

As he rowed back to The Lady Whistledown, he was again reminded how strange and yet how familiar it was to have a friendship with a siren. He thought back to their first meeting as he slowly retreated from her, watching her sink into the blue depths once again.

~

He was still a young sailor, but a second mate on a large ship already at the age of 21.

Unfortunately, his captain was threatening any further progress with a deadly run through Devil’s Port.

Colin questioned the decision, but ultimately the captain had the final say, and he wanted to get back to London by the first week of August, and they wouldn’t make it unless they shaved off three days of their journey. The captain’s word was final, and Colin made his peace with the potential that he might…not live through this.

Everyone said it was a bad idea, and they’d even lost two men at their last stop. Colin was irritated at the captain’s refusal to listen to reason, but he thought if he could just return to England, he could find a new ship to work for.

If he could just return home and see his family once more.

Maybe the stories are exaggerated, he thought. Maybe this will all be fine, and I’ll be home in a weeks time.

The stories, as it turned out, were every bit as truthful as they were made out to be. Only a couple of hours into sailing through, out of nowhere, dark grey clouds formed all around them, filling the sky on all sides, horizon to horizon. The wind whipped up, causing the ship to rock and lull with the growing waves, thunder rumbling in the distance but getting louder with each strike of lightning.

Soon, the full wrath of Devil’s Port to come raining down on the ship and crew. The winds howled, the ship rolled over the waves, the deck nearly submerged at times. The turbulent, stormy waters lived up to their name, constantly threatening to capsize the boat, run them into a coral reef, or snap their masts and drag them down to the port of Hell.

This was very, very bad. Men struggled to stay on their feet, the wet deck causing slips and falls, boots tangled in ropes, heads knocked and bleeding down their necks. Colin already fumbled and fell into the mizzenmast, a cut bleeding into his eye and a great knot forming on his hairline. Everyone was soaked from the rain, the cold wind whipping at their clothing, their teeth chattering and bones shivering but they could only keep going, trying to keep the sails from tearing in the wind, trying to keep the boat from crashing into the numerous rocks and hidden reefs below.

A wave crashed into the boat on the starboard side, harder than anything previous, the wood railing cracking, and then snapping off completely under the force. Colin’s feet slipped, caught off-guard by the power of the water, and he tumbled to the deck on his front.

“Shit!” he exclaimed, grasping for some rigging to hang on to as the ship rolled with another giant wave. He fumbled, the rope slipping through his hands as he slid backward.

Right off the edge of the ship.

“Help!” he screamed, but no one could hear him over the shouting of orders and rain showering the ship. He grasped for anything to hang on to, trying to grip the deck as he fell but ultimately he landed in the water, his mouth and nose already struggling to breathe as he tried to stay afloat. He swam for his life, trying to keep his head above the waves as the boat continued to sail away without him.

He still screamed, hoping someone might hear him and throw him a rope, but the ship kept going. He started to flail, arms waving frantically as wave after wave went over his head. Everyone else was trying to keep themselves alive, too focused on their tasks to see he was thrown overboard.

Stop. You’ll die if you tire yourself, he thought. He tried not to panic, and steadied his breathing, remembering to hold his breath if a wave washed over him. He kept watching as the boat sailed farther and farther off until he could see it no more, and he was alone. He swam and swam, managing to stay afloat, and all he could think of was how much he wanted to see his home and family at that moment.

It must have been hours, trying to stay alive and thinking about all the ways he might die at sea. It was fully dark now, but the rain slowed down and finally stopped, the waves quieted, and it was almost peaceful. He reclined onto his back, finally able to just float along the water. It was exhausting, trying to keep his head above water that long. He couldn’t help but think of the other ways he might die, now that the immediate danger was over. There were always stories of men being attacked and eaten by sharks, baked alive by the sun, or marooned on an island only to die of starvation; drowning was the least of his worries at this point.

The clouds must have cleared because he could see stars. He knew generally where he was, and hoped that someone might find him, floating along.

At some point, his body gave up consciousness, and he passed out, still floating under a dark starry sky.

~

He woke on a sandy beach. He peeled his eyes open, but the bright light hurt his head and he closed them again immediately. He did a mental inventory of his body, curling his toes, wiggling his fingers, and craning his neck from side to side. His head was throbbing at the spot he knocked it last night, but he seemed to have all of his limbs, and they could all move with minimal pain. He did hurt, and he let out a groan at the aches in his muscles, but nothing was broken.

Out of nowhere, the light dimmed behind his eyelids. He creaked them open again, and saw that the light was blocked from his face by a head hanging above him, red hair tickling his cheeks, backlit by the sunshine.

A beautiful woman looked down at him with clear blue eyes, and she gasped as she saw him look back at her.

“You’re awake!” she exclaimed.

“I…I guess I am,” Colin croaked, his throat dry.

“Here! Have some water,” she offered him a leather bladder. He sat up, uncorked the top and took a long drink, the water amazingly cool and crisp.

“Thank you,” he said, handing it back to her.

He took more of the woman in. The first thing he noticed was that she was completely naked and wasn’t even trying to hide it. He saw her breasts, her nipples pink and peeking out from her hair and the few necklaces she wore. She had a thatch of red curls covering her sex, nearly the same shade of red as her copper hair. It was surprising to see her so comfortable with her nudity; he hadn’t seen many undressed women before, and they were usually quite shy about removing clothing. Even when he had a rendezvous with one of his women friends, they nearly always kept some kind of chemise or nightdress on.

The only items she wore were jewelry, gold bracelets, a few rings, and dangly earrings. She smiled at him as she took him in. He was in a simple white linen shirt and black trousers, suspenders hanging from the waist, and miraculously still wore his black boots. He reached a hand up to feel the cut on his forehead, and felt the giant lump there.

“I tried to clean that up for you,” she chirped. “It was still bleeding a little when I found you.”

“That’s—thank you,” Colin mumbled, confused.

“You’re welcome,” she beamed.

Am I dreaming? Am I dead? he pondered.

“Who are you?” he questioned.

“My name is Penelope,” she offered.

I was hoping for more than just a name, but I guess that’s a start.

“How did you get here?”

She paused a moment before answering. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“How did I get here?”

“You—you washed up last night. I believe you were thrown overboard a ship.”

Colin let out a laugh. This whole situation was absurd. “Well, that wasn’t very well done of me, was it?”

She giggled.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt at all?” he asked.

She looked a little surprised. “No, not at all. I’m fine.”

“Good. That’s…good.” He looked around at his surroundings. They were on a sandy beach, on what looked to be a very small island. There were trees, enough to block the view of whatever was on the other side, but he believed he knew where he was. This was the small, triangular-shaped coral island within the area of Devil’s Port. It was marked on the map of every ship that traveled through because it was the only safe-haven for anyone who might be thrown overboard or shipwrecked.

“I guess we’re stuck here,” Colin observed.

“I guess so,” she agreed.

We might be here quite some time, he started to fret a little.

“We should find food and build a shelter.” His brain already formulated a plan, entering survival mode. He had no clue how long it might be before another ship could send someone to check here, or if anyone would be brave enough to do so at all.

“I’ve built a fire, and a little shelter. I have some fish, too,” she showed him a large leaf with some filets already prepared. She pointed behind him, and there was indeed a fire going next to a small tent made of sturdy wood branches and more large leaves.

“Damn, you’ve been busy,” he blurted before he could catch his cursing. “Oh, ah, oops. Sorry,” he spluttered.

“About what?” she puzzled.

“I—never mind,” Colin mumbled. Maybe she grew up around other sailors, and was unphased by his terrible appreciation for profanities.

“What’s you’re name? You haven’t told me yet,” she inquired.

“Oh—I’m Colin.”

“Colin,” she tested his name in her mouth. “It’s nice to meet you, Colin,” she smiled.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Penelope. As strange as these circumstances are,” he chuckled.

She steamed the fish wrapped up in a leaf, and Colin ate his portion without much thought. He was still entirely confused at how he ended up here with a beautiful naked woman, and wasn’t sure if he should question her further.

He was still hungry, of course, but he was also worried about how he might get home. Should he try to make a raft? They weren’t far from the coast of France, if he remembered correctly, and if they set off from the east, they should be able to mostly take the tide back in over the course of a day…

“How do you think we should get out of here?” he asked her opinion.

She looked hesitant. “Maybe we should wait a few days? See if someone comes along?” she suggested.

“Maybe, yeah,” Colin agreed. They could start on making the raft while they waited, he figured.

They spent the first day at each other’s sides, mostly, not that it was hard to do on such a small island. He found muscles and cockles under rocks on the shore, she would wander off and return with fish. She would sing, this beautiful, magical song, sometimes with words and sometimes without, but the sound always echoed around him, like he was in a valley surrounded by mountains, but there was nothing around them for the sound to bounce off but trees and sand. He didn’t know how she did it. It was like magic.

That evening, he began to cook their seafood feast, and he thought he should ask her some questions.

“Did you wash up here?”

“In a manner.”

“Do you have a family?”

“Yes.”

“Are they looking for you?”

“Probably.”

“Where are your clothes?”

“I don’t really wear them. They’re impractical.”

“What does that mean?”

“They get in the way.”

“But everyone wears clothes.”

“Not us.”

“Us?”

“My…my family. My people.”

“Who might that be?”

“My mother and sisters. There are more, but I see them the most, because, well, I’m related to them.”

And that was always as far as he got.

He’d try to pry more out of her, but she always deflected or changed the subject. She was quite good at it, and always before he knew what she was doing he forgot about his quizzing, and would only remember hours later.

She was quite strange, but not really any stranger than his sister, Eloise. He thought they might get along, with their similar disdain for polite society, but Colin wasn’t sure if Penelope’s was by choice or just a lack of knowledge. She was witty, her sly humor sometimes evading him for a few moments before he got the joke, and she was surprisingly shy, probably from her (he assumed) sheltered upbringing.

He’d offered her his shirt several times, but she always refused. It didn’t take long for him to get used to her nakedness. It became a part of her, this mysterious Penelope. She never seemed as worried as he was about any inclement weather that might start up. They were still in Devil’s Port, of course, so it was inevitable that a storm would start to brew.

It never did, though.

The sun shone in a bright blue sky, fluffy white clouds floating gently by.

They spent that night sleeping in front of the fire, a sea breeze ruffling their hair. They were next to each other but not touching. Colin didn’t find it difficult to fall asleep, his body tired, hungry, and still recovering.

It was surprising the next morning when she was already awake, another full bladder of cool water ready for him, despite there being no source of fresh water available that he could find.

And so their days went; Colin eating seafood and trying to build a raft big enough for the both of them with fallen logs and vines, and Penelope wandering off for food and returning with fish, clams, and seaweed. They conversed about his family home in England, her annoying mother and sisters, her beautiful singing, his work as a sailor. Talking was easy between them, even if there were a few secrets lingering in the air.

~

It was on the fourth morning, when they were gathering some muscles beneath rocks on the beach, when she saw the boat.

She suddenly looked terrified, her eyes widening as she gasped, staring at something over his shoulder.

“What? What is it?” he asked, looking behind him.

Still quite far out, among the glittering waves, was a rowboat, with two men making their way to the shore. Even farther behind them, she could see the larger ship, waiting.

“Oh, brilliant!” Colin exclaimed, waving his arms wildly. “Penelope! Look! We can—” he turned around to see her running away, already around the corner, disappearing behind the brush and trees to the far end of the island.

He started after her, finding it difficult to navigate the sand and vines in his boots. “Wait!” he called after her. “Where are you going?”

She’d made it to the edge of the waves, and turned around to face him, shaking her head. “I can’t go with you.”

“They won’t care you’re without clothing, surely you want to go back—”

“This is my home, Colin. I’m—well, you’ll see in a minute.”

The water started to lap at her feet, and her body shuddered. She walked back into the ocean, submerging first her ankles, then her knees, up to her hips.

“What are you—” Colin stopped, because she fell backward, her entire body beneath two and a half feet of water. “Penelope!” he ran in after her, the waves wetting his boots and pants.

He stopped when he saw a glittering blue shape underwater, seemingly attached to a pale body with a head of red hair…

She sat herself up, her bottom resting on the sandy ocean floor, her head above water.

She lifted her tail fin up.

Colin was speechless. He moved closer still, standing next to her, staring down, hands clenching and unclenching. She wiggled her tail, flicking water up at his face, slapping it on the surface, snapping him out of his stupor.

“You see what I mean now?” she asked.

“I—you’re—you are—”

“A mermaid. A siren. Either is fine. Just don’t call me a fish.”

“How—”

“We have legs out of water. Most of us don’t like it much, so we stay down below.”

“And the storm—”

“My mother’s doing. She—she hates humans. She saw your boat and…made a storm. To take it out.”

“Can you do that too?”

“I—yes. I can control the weather, to a degree. I can make fog, take away the wind, brew up a storm. I’m not as powerful as she is, not as good at it, but…yes.”

Colin didn’t know what to say. His entire world shifted, ripped open, exploded. Mermaids. Magic.

He was standing in front of a mermaid.

“Are you scared of me now?” Penelope hesitated. Her eyes pleaded with him, her face scared of his next words.

Colin thought for a moment. He’d spent three days with a mermaid. He was still alive. She saved him.

“No,” he whispered. “I don’t think I am.”

She exhaled, relieved. “Good. I—like you. I don’t want you to be afraid and never see me again.”

Colin thought of the possibility and realized he would very much like to get to know her more. The real her, without the mermaid secret hanging over them.

That’s what it was, these past few days, that she didn’t want to tell him. He understood, obviously. She needed to trust him, to know that he wasn’t going to kill her, before she could reveal herself.

“Will I see you again?” he questioned.

“I would like to. If you want to, too, of course,” she added. “I know it can be difficult, but if you can muster up the courage to sail through here again, I’ll find you. I’ll try to help you make it through, to whatever degree I can.”

“How will I know it’s you? How will you find me?”

“Trust me. You’ll know,” she smirked. Then, so quickly Colin could have blinked and missed it, she flipped herself over, dipped below the surface, and swam away.

He moved back to the beach and sat down there, stunned. He waited for the rowboat to get closer and closer, before finally it came ashore. Two men got out, one smaller and one bigger, and walked to him.

“Ahoy there!” one of the men shouted.

“Hello!” Colin tried to greet them cheerfully, not like he just discovered the woman he’d spent the past few days with was a mermaid that had legs on land and could control the weather. “Fancy you should stop here.”

“We saw your fire last night. Our ship had to hunker down after we got too late a start, and well, you can’t navigate these waters in the dark.” The two men stepped onto the beach in front of him.

“Who are you?” the larger of the men asked.

“Colin Bridgerton. I—I fell overboard in the storm a few days ago.”

“Lucky you ended up here. What boat were you aboard?”

“The Charlotte Rose. Did she—make it through the storm?” he hesitated.

The two men looked at each other before the smaller one answered. “No, lad. She hit a reef and sank. I think—is there anyone else here with you?”

At least they didn’t see Penelope, he thought, his stomach in knots. “No, it’s only me. Do you know of anyone else that washed up elsewhere?”

“No, lad,” the smaller man muttered.

Colin’s heart fell into his stomach like lead. “I’m the only one that made it?”

“If no one else is here with ya, you’re the last. No man could survive a storm like that at sea.”

“Oh.”

The thought that he was the only survivor sent ice through his veins. A crew of forty men, some with wives and children at home, all gone.

“Right-o, let’s get a hustle on before the weather picks up again. It’s unpredictable, we should take advantage of the pleasant day and get out of here as fast as we can.” The two men gestured to their boat.

“Right,” Colin wistfully looked behind him for a moment, before turning back to the men. “Let’s go.”

He climbed into the dinghy and sailed with the men to their ship.

“What position did you hold, on The Charlotte Rose?” one of them asked him.

“Second mate,” Colin answered mechanically.

They looked a little incredulous. “Awfully young to be second mate, aren’t ya?”

“I wouldn’t lie, what point would that have?”

“Guess that’s true,” the shorter man looked to the taller one.

“Must have an angel watching over you, to make it through a storm like that. A portal to hell, these waters,” the tall man tried to turn the conversation as they rowed along, the large galleon growing on the horizon. It wouldn’t be too long before they would board, and Colin would be on his way back to England.

“Must have,” Colin replied.

Not any angel, he thought. A mermaid.

~

It was a few years later when he was a captain of his own ship, a small brig named Odysseus, and he attempted to sail Devil’s Port for the first time at the helm.

His crew nearly threatened mutiny, but he had the final say. He said they would stop in Spain by that evening, after going through, and if anyone wanted to leave then, they were welcome to. He was one of the youngest captains working for the British East India Company by far, and on this first journey where he was in charge, he remembered fighting tooth and nail with the crew on every decision he made.

He was confident in his ability to navigate. He’d already made it through many storms relatively unscathed, and he needed to make it to Greece by autumn. The area had been relatively calm as of late, and truthfully, he wanted to make a name for himself as a competent captain.

He also wondered if he might see Penelope again.

Already different from the last time he was there, it was foggy. Only slightly better than a storm, as it was still difficult to navigate the rocks and coral reefs, but he managed.

He was a few hours into steering at the helm, his concentration exhausting him, not paying attention to anything but avoiding rocks and staying on course when—

He heard singing.

He’d heard that singing before.

Was that…?

He flagged down a cabin boy. “You there, boy! Tell someone to ready me a rowboat!” He moved away from the helm, the waters almost still around the ship. “Take down the sails! I need to do something!” he ordered.

“But—” his first mate started.

“Go!” he ordered.

The rowboat was readied, and he climbed down the ladder before settling himself on the wood seat.

He rowed out, his crew looking on curiously over the railing.

He still heard the singing and followed it out into the water. The fog quickly obscured the view of his ship, but he kept going a little more.

Then the singing stopped.

He saw, off in the mist on the port side, a spot of red before it disappeared into the waves.

Her head popped out of the water, on the starboard side. It happened suddenly, giving him a fright. He jumped, nearly dropping an oar.

“I’m sorry!” she quickly apologized, grabbing the wood so he didn’t lose hold of it. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“You didn’t, you just—surprised me. You moved so quickly,” he blushed.

She looked exactly the same as she pulled herself up to rest her arms on the side of the boat. Red hair slicked from her face and cascaded down her chest, skin glistening with salt water, jewelry layered on her arms and neck.

Her tail, shimmering blue below the surface, flicked slowly as she hovered in the water.

“How—how did you know it was me?”

Penelope shrugged. “I didn’t, really. I looked at all the ships that have passed by for years, trying to find you. I’m good at hiding, and I can see miles away. Today, I thought I saw you at the helm of that boat, so I started to sing. Thankfully, I was right. You look a bit different than last time.”

“Do you sing for all the men you meet?” Colin jested.

“I can’t say I’ve met another man before…like you.”

“What do you mean, like me?”

“Alive, for one thing,” she murmured.

Colin didn’t know what to say. His mouth wouldn’t move.

Has she—killed men before?

“I don’t like it, you know.”

“Like what?”

“The—storms. The coral reefs. Dead men.”

“But do you—”

“No. It’s entirely my mother. I think my sisters help sometimes, but…not me.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “I hate it, actually. I hate that she does it. We don’t have to do it, and I know there are some of us that just live peacefully, other pods that only attack if they are threatened directly. I try to stop her, but she tells me she’s keeping me safe, that if they knew we were here, they would kill us or take us captive and put us in a giant glass jar. I—I thought that was true, for a while. But…” she trailed.

“You don’t think that now?”

“No, of course not. I met you,” she smiled.

“Me?” he puzzled. “Why did you save me, before? How did you know I wouldn’t hurt you?”

“I didn’t. But I saw you, floating along, close to death, and I couldn’t—I had to try. I’ve seen too many men drown, or starve, or bleed out, and I just—” she stopped. Colin couldn’t be sure, but it looked like a tear fell down her already wet cheek.

“I was too handsome to die?” he charmed, trying to diffuse the thick air around them.

“Oh, stop it!” she shoved him lightly, laughing. “No, well, yes, but not entirely. I mean, no. Well—”

“So you think I’m handsome?” he flashed a bright smile.

“You know you’re handsome, you don’t need me to tell you so. I would hate for you to get a big head.”

“Too late for that, Pen.”

Pen, she thought. No one’s ever called me that. I—I like it, I think.

“Here, I—ah, I have something for you, if you want it,” he stammered, pulling out a bracelet from his pocket. It was a simple gold band, but finely crafted. He bought it for Daphne, as a wedding gift, but he thought Pen might appreciate it more.

“Oh!” she smiled. “It’s lovely!” she took it from his hand, slipping onto her wrist with her other jewelry.

“So it…pleases you?”

“Yes of course!”

“Will…will you help my journey through here pass uneventfully?”

She smiled at him. “I think I can manage that for you.”

Colin smiled back at her. He looked up at the sky then, and realized how much time had passed.

“I’m sorry, I need to get back,” he apologized.

“Oh,” she seemed quite disappointed.

“I have a lot of responsibilities I have to get back to. I’m a captain,” he proudly proclaimed.

“Captain?”

“I run my own ship. I have a lot of men that depend on me.”

“You seem awfully young to be a captain,” she ribbed.

“I am, but I’m already one of the best. You don’t make captain at 24 for nothing,” he puffed his chest out.

“There you go with that big head again,” she jested.

Colin laughed. “Will I…see you again?”

“I would like it if you did,” she hesitated.

“Will you keep helping me pass through?”

“If I can hide it from my mother, I will,” she assured him.

“Thank you, Pen,” he smiled at her.

“I—I missed you, Colin,” Pen said, her cheeks blushing a light pink.

“I missed you too,” Colin felt his face warm and knew he must be turning a bit red too.

He made it back to the ship to the astonishment of his men. To their further surprise, the sky cleared, and they sailed straight through Devil’s Port uneventfully.

And so the legend of Captain Bridgerton was born.

~

Colin made it back to The Lady Whistledown. A few ropes fell to him, and he used them to tie the dinghy up so it could be brought to the deck. Then a ladder unfurled, and he climbed. The sun started to shine through the clouds just as he made it up, his crew standing around him in a half circle. He adjusted his coat, ran a hand through his hair, and sighed.

“Let’s get a move on!”

The men all began to scramble, two of them pulling up his rowboat, various riggings pulled and let loose, the sails once again filling with wind.

“We sail for London!” he shouted, and his crew cheered.

Someone started up a sea shanty, and he joined in with them as he helped adjust the sails. As the ropes creaked and the ship started to pick up speed, he looked to the starboard horizon once again.

Every time he left her, he couldn’t help but feel that he was leaving something behind.

Chapter Text

Penelope followed Colin’s ship until it was out of Devil’s Port, disguising its wake and shadow on the ocean floor. It was hard, and she had to pay attention to her own surroundings as well, ensuring her mother was well out of the way. It was a few hours later after she was certain he was finally on his way to London and out of any danger when she was zipping her way back home.

She saw the familiar rock formation, and merfolk swimming around, weaving in and out of the tall stacks of stone. Her family members stood out, their red hair striking against the blue ocean. She saw her mother’s head whip around as she got closer and stare her down. As she leisurely swam over, Penelope braced herself for her ire once more.

“Penelope! Where’ve you been?”

Penelope tried her best to look small and inoffensive, keeping her eyes wide and innocent. Her mother’s hair floated around her angry face, her hands resting on her hips, her bright yellow-green tail flicking and snapping in irritation. She wore a few pieces of jewelry, a couple of gold necklaces and bracelets that glimmered in the dimming light, but not nearly as many as Penelope.

She looked quite furious, more than her usual irritation at Penelope’s oddness. Portia was not known for her patience or kindness, and Penelope had a feeling she missed another dinner, something that she never used to get in trouble for.

It was increasingly hard to escape her mother’s notice. She could usually slip away from their pod of thirty, completely undetected by anyone until she reappeared a few hours later to minimal questioning. She would always claim she was looking for trinkets, or out on a swim to check for any boats, and that was it. The past year or so, her mother was suddenly paying attention to her. Prudence and Phillipa were married off, so she and Felicity were next in line. She suddenly found herself forced to talk to mermen under the close watch of Portia, and her every sentence was criticized as boring, unoriginal, or bland. She needed to marry as soon as possible, her mother told her, to further secure her position in the pod, and it was irresponsible to wander off alone like she used to. She had a duty to her family, apparently.

If her mother knew she was off cavorting with a human, she would lock her up and throw away the key.

“Hello, mother. I was off doing a round. Everything seems fine,” Penelope tried to seem nonchalant.

“You know you’re supposed to tell me where you’re going whenever you leave!” her mother swam up and circled her, giving her a once-over before staring her down, eyes questioning, expecting more of an explanation.

“Yes, I’m sorry. My head was elsewhere,” Penelope mumbled, making her way over to the dark rock formation their little family called home. It was covered in sea life; starfish, seahorses, sponges, clams, and a school of mackerel glittering around the tall formations. The different spires acted as a sort of city for their pod of merfolk, with each family inhabiting their own space in the towers of stone, sleeping in alcoves they created for themselves.  

“You need to bring that head of yours out of the clouds and back down to the sea floor,” her mother huffed before zipping ahead of her and settling among the others, groups of merfolk gathered in circles in the center of the rock formations. Already Penelope could see her angrily ranting to Prudence and her husband, who scoffed and gave her a side-eye. Penelope was used to it, however. She swam over to her little alcove in the rocks, laid down, and sighed.

She looked at her little collections, trinkets and jewelry hiding in each groove of stone. Bracelets, rings, tiaras, necklaces, earrings, small bronze statues, ivory and ebony chess pieces, glass inkwells, stone jam jars, perfume bottles, brass candle sticks, and all sorts of other human artifacts that she wasn’t really supposed to have, but kept anyway.

It wasn’t normal to keep all of these little human things, even among the kinder merfolk. She’d been fascinated with humans as long as she could remember, however, and she was very familiar with the peculiar looks and cruel whispers that came with being unusual.

Penelope was always called “the strange one” among her sisters.

If you lined the four of them up, she would stand out from the others; a bit shorter, a bit wider, her head always looking to the surface, in a manner of speaking. Even at their previous home, she received many stares and questions about her hobbies. She liked to search the ocean floor for things dropped by humans and collect them, she would find islands and lounge around in the sun with her legs, practice her walking, and try her best to learn the various languages to communicate with people. It got worse in their current living situation, and Penelope refused to use her magic to participate in any “family activities.”

Meaning, creating horrific weather to throw men overboard and capsize their boats.

She truly hated it.

Her mother and sisters weren’t always so violently opposed to humans. She remembered a time when they lived with more merfolk in a huge pod, traveling around the Mediterranean, occasionally living with people, interacting with them, eating their delicious food, wearing their clothes, drinking their wine. It was lovely, coexisting with them.

Her mother, unfortunately, did exactly what she always does and ruined it for her family. She thought it was an excellent idea to try to manipulate some humans, steal their jewelry, and nearly reveal the existence of mermaids in the process. She believed merfolk to be better than them, more highly evolved, and thought she could pull the wool over their eyes. It failed spectacularly, and likely sparked many more rumors of the existence of mermaids, and their pod had to leave that area of the Mediterranean for the foreseeable future..

They were thrown out not long after.

They wandered for a year or so, trying to find another pod that would accept them, but all of the merfolk in the area knew of her mother’s crimes, so they were rejected again and again, no one wanting to take the risk on a mermaid that had no regard for the secrecy of their kind. As a last resort, they asked a pod in the Bay of Biscay, notorious for their ruthless nature, if they could join them, and they were readily accepted on one condition: they had to obey the laws of their leaders, and make every attempt to kill humans that entered their waters.

This area was well-traveled by boat in the past, and primarily used by trade ships and fishing. Merfolk had previously been caught on accident, much to the surprise of the humans and the annoyance of the mermaid in the net. The problem arose when they weren’t released back to the sea and instead were killed for sport and curiosity. The solution, this pod deemed, was to attack any ship that passed by without question and without mercy, creating heavy storms, furious wind, giant waves, and impassible fog to prevent almost every boat from safe passage. It wasn’t long before they called these waters Devil’s Port, claiming one of their terrible gods cursed the sea, and it was entirely avoided except for a brave few. It was found to be too dangerous, and Penelope’s pod of merfolk was left alone. The ships certainly tried less and less in the several years Penelope’d been there.

Colin was the only one who’d tried and been successful more than once.

It was generally frowned upon to kill humans among merfolk. It drew too much attention to a particular area, causing too many questions, and Poseidon-forbid an investigation by the elders. The threat of ostracization from the greater mer-community was usually enough to prevent any deviations, but there were always those who didn’t care and created their own self-sufficient pod.

There were plenty of things Penelope missed about humans. She loved their food, their music, their art, their books. She wanted to eat cake and pasta, read a novel, dance a quadrille, and visit a museum once again, but she was forbidden from going on land. She wasn’t supposed to go ashore and use her legs at all anymore, and if they found out she thought she might be thrown out, or worse, forced to marry one of the other mermen to keep her chained to the ocean floor.

Possibly literally.

Unfortunately, Prudence floated by at that moment, her pink tail lazily pushing her along in boredom, and Penelope tensed. Her sister looked at Penelope’s alcove and scoffed.

“Find any more of your human trash while you were off wandering around?” her sister jabbed.

“No,” Penelope mumbled. She curled in on herself, her tail bending up so she could wrap her arms around it and rest her head on her knees.

She knew from experience that if she didn’t give in to Prudence’s prodding, she would go away.

“Mother was quite irritated, you know,” she informed her.

“I’m sure she was,” Penelope sighed.

“You really need to get your head below water. You spend too much time thinking about those people, and not enough time finding a husband,” Prudence spat. Philippa swam up at that time, purple fins fluttering over, hearing their little conversation and wishing to insert herself. Perfect.

“I don’t think I’m ready for a husband,” Penelope quivered.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re ready,” Phillipa scoffed. “We need to secure our station in this pod. We’ve done our part, it’s time for you to do yours.”

“Not that any of the mermen here want you, with your head always floating around up there,” Prudence looked her up and down. “Your figure leaves much to be desired, the least you could do is be normal.”

Her sisters and mother liked to point out that she was much shorter and a bit wider than what was considered fashionable at every available opportunity. As if she had a choice in the matter.

“Why would I want to change who I am just to marry some second-rate merman?” she quipped, raising her voice and immediately regretting it.

Prudence recoiled, an overdramatic look of horror on her face. “How could you threaten our position here by saying such a thing?”

“Do you wish to be out in the open ocean once again?” Phillipa huffed.

“Leave her alone, you two!”

Felicity always chose the best moments to save her. She quickly swam over, orange scales glittering as she moved to sit next to Penelope, a hand resting comfortingly on her back, rubbing small circles.

“You know as well as we do that she needs to marry,” Prudence pointed out.

“Penelope can marry when she finds someone she loves. You were allowed to marry for love, why shouldn’t she?” Felicity defended her.

“Bit harder for her than us, isn’t it?” Phillipa jabbed. “She needs all the help she can get. I don’t think she has the luxury of love.”

Penelope’s chest tightened. She thought she would be crying if she weren’t underwater already.

“Based on how often your husbands keep your company, I wouldn’t be bragging,” Felicity hissed. Their husbands were often away, spending as little time in the presence of their wives as possible.

Prudence and Phillipa fumed and snarled. “We’ll know who to blame, then, when we’re thrown out again,” Prudence hissed before speeding off with Phillipa.

Felicity wrapped her arms around Penelope, her head resting on her shoulder. “You know they’re mean because they’re bitter and unhappy, right?”

“I know. I don’t take it to heart,” Penelope lied.

“You’re better than the both of them. You deserve to fall in love and marry someone you want to spend all your time with. Someone who appreciates you,” Felicity asserted, grabbing Penelope’s face and pulling her in for a kiss on the cheek.

“Thanks, Felicity,” Penelope smiled.

“I love you, Penelope. Don’t let them change you.”

“I love you, too. Don’t tell anyone, but you’re my favorite,” Penelope whispered.

Felicity smiled at her. “I’m going to bed. You’re welcome to join me, if you like.” Often when they were younger, they would share sleeping quarters, finding it more comforting to be with each other than alone.

“I’ll be okay. I think I need some time alone right now,” Penelope assured her.

“I’ll be here if you change your mind. Goodnight, sister,” Felicity kissed her forehead before swimming off to her own alcove.

Penelope didn’t exactly hate her mother and older sisters. She didn’t really like them either. They liked to push her, prod at her, make her fit into a mold that wasn’t the right shape. Felicity was the only mermaid that understood Penelope. She didn’t try to make her into something she could never be. She accepted Penelope and all of her quirks, and it was truly the only reason Penelope hadn’t left already. It was hard, taking the abuse thrown at her, but it was all she ever knew. It was easy to take hurtful words and let them bounce off her; more difficult would be to leave the only people she’d ever known.

There was always Colin but…

They didn’t know about Colin, and they never could.

Admittedly, she just saw him as a way out, that first night she saw him. Floating along after a storm, half-dead, passed out, she took pity on him and swam him over to the small island she liked to sunbathe on. She formulated a plan while she waited for him to awaken. She thought she might seduce him, get him to take her away from her mother, and go live among humans for a while. But then he woke up and looked at her with these beautiful stormy blue eyes and laughed at himself for falling off a boat in the middle of a storm and asked if she was all right and she was gone.

It hit her like a tsunami, this adoration and affection for him.

No one really asked if she was okay, except maybe Felicity. Even when she had to run from some fishermen a few years ago who hit one of her side fins with a spear, ripping a hole and slowing her down, her mother only admonished her for being seen. She couldn’t swim properly for months while it healed and only Felicity seemed to care about her, waiting for her to catch up when she fell behind swimming.

This man she’d never met, who fell off a boat and had a cut and large knot on his head, who washed up on an island with a strange naked woman, asked her if she was all right within three minutes of knowing her.

After only a day more on that island, running off in secret to catch fish and make him some fresh water from the sea with her magic, she realized she could never hurt him. He cared for her at every instance, offering her his shirt to cover up from the sun, making sure she drank enough water, asking questions about her life and her family, clearly trying not to pry too much but too curious to help himself. He helped her filet fish, search for muscles and cockles on the beach, tried to make a raft so they could both get off the island, and curled his body around hers at night to keep her warm. It hurt her to leave him when he fell asleep, but she had to go back at night to keep her mother from getting suspicious. She always arrived back early in the morning before he woke up, and he would greet her with a charming smile and a bright, “Good morning!” before starting their day together again.

She loved him.

She would do anything to keep him safe from her family.

The only time she used her powers was to shield him and push a strong wind into his sails. She hid him in fog, in rocky waves, she even resorted to simply distracting her mother, asking for assistance with controlling her singing or magic. Her pod would kill him if they saw him, and if they knew she spoke with him, on more than one occasion, he would be dead before she could do anything to try to save him. If they knew she loved him…

The truth was she could only think of Captain Colin. She felt a huge sense of guilt for pulling him into her world, and putting his life in danger every time he chose to sail through Devil’s Port. It was selfish, she knew, that she always asked him to visit her, but it’s not like he put up much protest. She wasn’t sure if he knew exactly how much danger he was in, and how difficult it was to keep him a secret, but Penelope truly did not care. For now, she didn’t want to give up their brief meetings, but she knew the day grew closer when she would have to make a choice.

He visited whenever he could, after that first time he found her again, but she always wished for more. He was easy to talk to, laughed at her jokes, and she felt seen by him. She felt wanted and appreciated, and completely relaxed. In every other part of her life, she was on edge, waiting for her mother to order her around, waiting for another ship to sink, waiting for another merman to try to marry her. She felt more at home with Colin in their brief moments together these past years than she’d ever felt with her family.

On more than one occasion, she wanted to ask him to take her with him when he left. She wanted to spend more than just a few minutes with him, more than a passing moment. She wanted to stay with him. Forever.

She knew about his entire life. His family, his friends, his boat, his smuggling, and she wanted all of it. She wanted to share her life with him.

She’d never met any of his family, but she felt like she knew them. His oldest brother, Anthony, was the most frequent star of his stories since he was the one that complained about Colin’s profession the most. Colin told her he liked to butter Anthony up with French liquor and wine but it only worked occasionally. He hated being in London because every time he was, he inevitably found himself sat in Anthony’s office for a few hours, listening to his brother berate him and trying to make a case as to why he should give up his sailing and smuggling, all the while drinking a glass of fine cognac. Penelope was incredibly familiar with Anthony’s rants on familial duty and responsibility, and his feelings about Colin’s spontaneity and free spirit, just through Colin’s retellings of the encounters. She heard stories of all his seven brothers and sisters, and his mother, painting a picture of the life he led when he wasn’t on a boat.

She knew, however, if she asked him to take her with him, he wouldn’t be able to sail through Devil’s Port again. She wasn’t sure to what lengths her mother might go to get her back, truthfully, but if her mother knew she ran off with a human, she would likely go to the ends of the earth to find her, and if she did, she would kill whomever she was with and take her back home, never to see the sky again.

She couldn’t risk it.

Not yet, anyway.

“Penelope!”

She was pulled from her thoughts by her mother stopping in front of her, hands on her hips, ready to demean and admonish.

“Yes, mother?” Penelope squeaked.

“Our monthly meeting is tomorrow. I expect your attendance.”

“Of course mother.”

“From start to finish. No sneaking off. I’ll be watching,” she threatened.

“I understand,” Penelope resigned.

“Pay attention to any potential suitors. You need to start speaking with them, get to know them better, if you ever want to receive a proposal,” she insisted.

“Yes, mother.”

“Good,” she swam off.

Penelope felt her body relax a bit, and laid back. She tried to close her eyes and sleep, but her thoughts continued to drift.

The thought of marrying any of the mermen in their pod filled her with anxiety and dread. She didn’t like any of them, but she knew if she didn’t feign interest in one of them tomorrow her mother would dig in further and she wouldn’t be able to sneak away ever again. She would have to pretend to try, even though she had no intention of marrying anyone in this pod.

She didn’t want a husband.

She only wanted Captain Colin Bridgerton.

She wanted to marry for love.

Penelope huffed. Why did she have to fall in love with a human?

She eventually fell into a fitful sleep, filled with dreams of boats, cake, and a captain with brown hair and a charming smile.

Chapter Text

Colin stepped off the ship onto the dock, breathing in the stale, musty London air for the first time in months. While he preferred the crisp, salty sea air, something about the Thames’ scent pulled at his heart.

The East India Docks in particular were not known for their pleasant ambiance, with men grunting and swearing as they moved goods from ships into warehouses, and a few ladies of the night hovering about in dark corners.

They’d arrived quite late in the afternoon, the sun shining golden onto the brick buildings and warehouses. He was in the process of acquiring a hack to take him home when Phillip found him.

“Everything should be in order, Phillip. If you need me, I’ll be at the usual house, Number Five in Mayfair.”

“Captain, what are we to do with the—special inventory?” Phillip mumbled the last part.

“I have a few trunks that need to be brought up from my cabin before I go to Mayfair. Perhaps the inventory will find its way inside?”

“I’m sure it will.” He sighed. “The inspectors are going through everything now. I’ll have a few of the men bring out your trunks.”

“Thanks, Phil,” Colin replied, and the two shared a conspiratorial smile.

His two chests and one case were brought out and strapped onto the back of the carriage he’d hired. He climbed in and settled himself on the bench.

The carriage ride to Mayfair was a long one. He always took this time to quiet his mind and watch the scenery of the city roll past the windows. First into Poplar and the rest of the East End, through the city center, past St. Paul’s Cathedral, into the West End, and finally, when the streets quieted some and cleaned up significantly, he knew he was nearly home. As he pulled up in front of Number Five, the sun was just setting, and his family carriages were waiting outside.

As he hopped out, not waiting for anyone to open the door for him, a footman rushed to meet him.

“Captain Bridgerton! Were we expecting you?”

“Not at all. Could someone notify my mother I’ve arrived?”

“Of course, sir. We’ll take your trunks up to your room,” he said as he gestured for another footman to go inside, presumably to fetch Violet.

“Thank you, just put them in the room, no need to unpack.” He did not need the servants to know about the large quantities of alcohol tucked between his shirts and undergarments.

He paid the driver, and the Bridgerton footmen were already removing his trunks from the back when his mother rushed outside, holding the blue skirts of her dress up as she ran over to meet him.

“Colin!” she exclaimed, her arms wrapping around him. He returned her embrace, squeezing her tightly. No matter how old one was, there was nothing like a hug from your mother.

“Hello, Mother.”

She pulled back, looking at his face and rubbing up and down his arms, taking in his disheveled appearance. “What a surprise! We weren’t expecting you for another week!”

“The winds were favorable, and I just arrived a few hours ago.”

“How lovely!” she smiled at him. “Here, let’s go inside and you can greet your siblings and meet your latest nephew!”

It was becoming a more common occurrence in the past two years. With so many siblings reaching adulthood, there was almost always some news of an engagement, marriage, pregnancy, or birth that occurred while he was at sea. Benedict had likely married Sophie while he was away. Daphne and Kate both were with child last he remembered, though he couldn’t recount who was due first…

“Did Daphne have the baby?” he took a guess.

“Not quite, but Kate has.” Ah, it was Kate, then.

“Christ, another boy for them, then,” he swore. That was boy number two for his brother and his wife, he recalled.

“Language, Colin!” she gave him a little pinch to his cheek.

“Sorry, Mother. Bad habit.”

“I would like it if you wouldn’t spend quite so much time around sailors. Maybe you would remember your manners,” she quipped.

“I’m not sure that would solve the cursing problem at this point.”

They’d started to move inside, Colin placing his mother’s arm around his to steady her up the stairs.

“Since you are home, will you be attending the Danbury Ball this evening?” she asked.

“Of course, Mama.” They’d entered the foyer and Colin continued to hold his mother’s arm as they traveled upstairs. Going to a ball was the last thing he wanted to do with his evening, but there was no use in fighting with her about it. He needed to change, probably take a bath, and shave his growing beard…

“Good evening, Colin!”

He was pulled from his thoughts by his sister-in-law peeking her head out from the family drawing room. She wore a simple lilac dress and held a babe in her arms, wrapped in a white blanket, his eyes closed in sleep. He could hear Hyacinth and little Edmund giggling and laughing behind her.

“Kate!” he greeted, moving toward her. He gently patted her on her arm, not wishing to disturb the baby.

“We weren’t expecting you this evening,” she smiled.

“Why are you here and not at Bridgerton House?” Colin questioned. After their marriage, Anthony and Kate kept to Bridgerton House while the rest of his unmarried siblings and mother lived at Number Five. While not unusual to see Kate here, he thought after having a baby she wouldn’t leave her own home for some time.

“I had little Miles a month ago, and we wanted to take him for his first visit today,” she gestured slightly with the bundle in her arms, and Colin grinned down at his nephew. Kate continued, “Anthony has some business with your mother’s books, so we were going to stay with Hyacinth while everyone else went to the Danbury Ball.”

“Anthony is here as well?” he asked.

“Yes, he’s in the study.”

“Excellent,” Colin beamed before starting to move down the hallway.

“Do you have something you need to speak with him about?” Kate stopped him.

“Yes, I wanted to ask—well, yes. I need to see him,” he caught himself before he revealed too much.

“He is in quite the mood, I would refrain from too much business—” she started.

“When is Anthony ever more than a conversation away from a foul mood?”

She laughed. “Well, good luck I suppose.”

He stalked down the hallway to the study. The door was ajar, so he knocked quickly on the frame before moving inside.

Anthony sat at the desk, the house books open in front of him and a tumbler of (probably) cognac swirling in his hand. He looked up to see Colin standing in the doorway, looking scruffy and still in his traveling clothes, no cravat and shirt unbuttoned quite far, and he sighed.

“You’re back early.”

“I am, the winds favored me this trip,” Colin explained.

Anthony turned back to the books. “Will you be attending the ball this evening? Mother probably—”

“She’s already asked. I’ve said I’ll go. You know how she can be about her eligible children attending events.”

Anthony chuckled. “I certainly do. You should go clean up before we leave, you smell like a shipyard.”

“I will, I just—I had something I wished to speak with you about before we left,” he hesitated.

His brother’s head snapped up, and he glared. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Colin exclaimed.

“You sound serious, and you’re never serious. You must have done something,” Anthony accused.

“I haven’t done anything! I’ve actually come to ask you before I do anything!”

“Oh,” Anthony looked surprised. “Well, what is it, then?”

Colin paused. “How would you feel if…” he stopped, trying to form the question correctly.

“What?” Anthony exasperated. “It can’t be that bad if you’re asking me before you do it, so just out with it.”

“What would you do if, next time I returned from abroad, I—I brought someone with me?” Colin faltered.

Anthony thought for a moment before speaking. “I guess that would depend on who that someone is.”

“She’s a—a woman.” Colin supposed that was not technically a lie.

“What kind of woman?”

“A special one?”

Oh, brilliant, Bridgerton. A special one. What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

“Colin Bridgerton, please tell me you haven’t promised yourself to a prostitute.”

“No!” Colin quickly blurted. “I’ve told you before, I don’t see any prostitutes.” After his first few goes, he decided casual sex was not for him. The harsh language barriers he often encountered did not help the already awkward interactions.

“Well who is it then? She must be somewhat controversial considering you’re asking permission.” Anthony paused, his eyes widening. “Did you compromise her? Do you have a child on the way? COLIN BRIDGERTON—”

“Christ almighty, NO!” Colin pulled at his hair in frustration. Might be a bit hard to compromise her considering most of the time she has a tail— “Everything’s been done mostly by the book. We haven’t kissed, nothing more than on her hands or her forehead. I want to, more than anything, but—it’s complicated.”

“And you bringing her here, presumably to marry her, would uncomplicate things?” he seethed.

“Yes. Significantly. I—I can’t stop thinking about her. Every time I leave, all I can think about is returning to her again.”

“You certainly seem more serious about her than most other things in your life,” Anthony conceded.

“I am. I want to spend all my time with her, and it pains me that I can’t. It’s like a knife twisting in my heart every time I have to leave her.”

Anthony took a thoughtful sip of his drink. “Who is she, then?” he asked calmly.

“Her name is Penelope. She’s so smart, and witty, and funny, and kind, and she has this beautiful red hair, and I’ve told her all about you and mother and Ben and Eloise—she’ll really like Eloise, I think, and—” Colin bubbled.

“What of her family?” Anthony cut him off.

“Well…” Colin thought about how to describe their relationship without revealing that her mother liked to sink boats and kill men. “They don’t like Pen very much. She’s different from them, she likes different things that her mother doesn’t approve of. I mean, I think they love her like any family does, but they want her to change. And I want Pen just the way she is.”

“I meant if she was titled at all, but I suppose that answers the question well enough.”

“No, no title. Probably no dowry, either,” Colin acknowledged.

Did mermaids have dowries? She certainly had enough gold jewelry to keep them comfortable for quite some time.

“Is she French, or something? I hardly see a lack of title as a reason why you were so hesitant to ask about her.”

Shit. Was she French? Spanish? German? Do mermaids have nationalities?

“She’s—Italian.” He spent enough time in Italy for that to be true.

“She had red hair and she’s Italian?” Anthony looked incredulous.

Good one, Colin.

“Yes. She was raised in Italy, but her whole family is…English.”

“Huh. What an odd upbringing.” Anthony still looked skeptical.

“Yes, she’s not exactly—traditional.”

“Well, if we can deal with Eloise, I’m sure we can deal with this Penelope. Don’t let my feelings stop you from bringing her with you. Does she have similar feelings for you, this woman?”

“I—I believe so. She’s told me she looks forward to my visits, and we could talk together for hours if we were able.”

Colin was not entirely sure if she loved him. He wasn’t sure about his feelings, either, if he was honest. It was a difficult thing to come to terms with, possibly being in love with a mermaid. It was like something out of a fantasy, out of a novel, but here he was. He knew, at the very least, that she liked him. She wanted to spend time with him, and she hated her family. To Colin, that was as good of a reason as any to take her home with him.

“Then we should have no problems procuring a marriage license for the two of you. Should you choose to bring her home, of course.”

Home.

Marriage?

The thought hadn’t even occurred to him, he was so wrapped up in asking Anthony if he could even consider bringing her to London. He supposed they would have to marry, to avoid any further questions. It wasn’t uncommon for sailors to bring home a woman they met on their travels, though the general expectation was that they would be wed as soon as possible. He didn’t find the idea as objectionable as he might have at one time. The thought of marriage to Pen filled him with a lightness, a fluttering in his insides, a feeling of joy that bubbled up within him. Before he pictured his future only vaguely, flashes of himself in a home with a faint outline of a woman he supposed was his wife. It was always fuzzy, unformed, and constantly changing. Being with Pen all the time, sleeping in the same bed, sharing meals, reading together in their library, managing a house, solidified in his mind. He could see his life with her.

“I—thank you, Anthony.”

“At this point, I want you happy, Colin. And preferably away from the high seas. If a wife will keep you in England, I’m all for it.” Anthony seemed genuinely happy for him, a gentle smile on his face, his eyes soft as he looked at his brother.

“Kate’s really mellowed you out these past few years, hasn’t she?” Colin ribbed.

Anthony rolled his eyes. “Any other potential scandals you wish to tell me about?”

“None that you aren’t already aware of,” Colin defended.

“How’s your international smuggling operation coming along? Any indication as to when I’ll have to bail you out of prison?” he provoked.

“How’s that cognac, brother?”

“Hush, you. I can find another way of procuring French liquor that does not risk the reputation of my family.”

“It certainly would cost more, though,” Colin smirked.

“That would be well worth the return, I assure you,” Anthony smiled as he downed the rest of the brown liquid. “Now, we are to leave with Mother, Eloise, and Frannie in a few moments. I suggest you go upstairs to freshen up quickly and put on your formal wear. As much as the ladies of the ton would appreciate seeing you with your shirt unbuttoned to your naval, I think it would give their Mamas an aneurysm.”

He ran upstairs to his rooms to find one of the servants had placed a bowl of hot water and a cloth on his dresser. He stripped and used the rag to clean up the important parts, the oiled water removing most of the smell of the sea and replacing it with rose. While not very masculine, he did admit it smelled better than fish and salt. He found his formal trousers, waistcoat, jacket, and cravat waiting for him on his bed, and dressed quickly, used to dressing himself while at sea. He took a little bit of water and ran it through his hair to try to tame it into something presentable, ran his hands over his stubbly face and realized he had no time to shave, put on his shoes, and was on his way.

As he strode downstairs, he found Francesca and Eloise waiting in the foyer with Violet and Anthony. They both looked so grown up in their fine dresses and hair put up in pretty curls. He felt a small twinge of regret in his chest, thinking of all the moments he missed his siblings growing up while he was away. He was never gone for more than six months, but that was an eternity to children. All of Simon and Daphne’s children forgot he existed at one point or another; he remembered a particularly traumatic experience when Belinda only screamed and cried in his presence for the entire Christmas holiday until she finally got used to him again.

It hurt a little more each time he returned to find his family continued to grow and change without him.

“Colin!” Frannie beamed when she saw him. He wrapped his arms around both of his sisters, pulling them to him tightly.

“We missed you,” Eloise grumbled into his shirt. He rested his head atop both of theirs.

“And I missed you,” he moved back a little to look at both their faces. “You both look so grown up.”

“The carriages are waiting,” Anthony pressed, pulling him from his sentimentality.

Colin let his sisters go. “Let’s get this over with.”

~

Colin stood in the ballroom, couples swirling in a waltz around him. He was on his third tiny glass of champagne, feeling stiff in his formal wear. He did not make a habit of wearing a waistcoat or cravat while sailing, for practicality reasons more than anything, and he felt like he was being actively choked by the knot of fabric at his throat. He wanted nothing more than to rip it off but his mother would have his hide, so he thought he would bear it for another hour before taking his leave.

“Is that Captain Bridgerton?”

He turned around to see Lady Danbury, swaggering over with her cane, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Good evening, Lady Danbury. Wonderful ball, as always.”

“I don’t believe I was expecting you tonight. When did you arrive back from your adventures?”

“Just hours ago, actually. Mother insisted on my presence, or I would likely be asleep in bed. No offense, of course.”

“None taken. I can imagine keeping a ship running is exhausting work.”

“Even for one as notorious as I,” he chuckled.

“You still one of the best ship captains in Europe then?”

“I suppose I am,” he conceded.

“Still sailing through Devil’s Port with your contraband?”

“Shhh,” he hushed her. “I am, but I would prefer that not be public knowledge.”

“You know your secret is safe with me, as long as you’ll sell me more of that fine wine you brought back last time.” She glanced around the room. “Any young ladies caught your eye tonight? Or have their fathers and brothers kept their little ingenues away from the pirate rake?”

At some point, a rumor started about his dalliances all over Europe or some such nonsense. He hadn’t nearly the amount of experience as was whispered, but he wasn’t in London enough to prove everyone otherwise. All of his gentlemen friends poked fun at him whenever he managed a trip to White’s, asking if his Italian mistress knew about his Greek one, or how the prostitutes in Portugal compared to those in Cyprus. No matter how many times he told them there were no women in his life, they simply could not understand why a man would travel away from good society and not sleep with any woman that looked at him twice. Because of this, many Mamas kept their daughters away from him, unless his own Mother introduced them.

“No, I don’t find myself interested in any of the women here, and you should know more than anyone that I’m not like that, as quick of a mind as you are. I’m sure they’re all lovely, but I find my interests wandering elsewhere.”

Lady Danbury squinted, the cogs turning in her brain. “You mean to tell me that, while there are not multiple, there is a singular woman waiting for you on the continent?”

Colin froze. “Of course not. I merely meant that I’m quite focused on my career at the moment. You don’t become a famous ship captain for simple good looks.” He tried to backtrack but knew it to be hopeless. She likely already knew there was someone by the way he widened his eyes like a deer caught in a hunter’s line of sight.

“I suppose the legend attached to your name is evidence enough of your accomplishments, though I wouldn’t discredit the contributions of your—handsome attributes—to your mythos.”

“I—what—”

“Have a good evening, Captain,” she smirked as she faded back into the crowd. Just like her to get the gossip she wanted from him and disappear.

Colin knew she’d caught on to his secret but hoped she would keep it to herself. He made a mental note to send her a few extra bottles of the fine French merlot he knew she loved.

He turned his attention back to the party guests, placing his empty glass of champagne on a passing tray and grabbing another. Indeed, quite a few young women seemed to gather in little groups while glancing at him and whispering amongst each other. Interestingly, some of the older women, widowed or otherwise, were doing the same thing, but with more of a devilish glint to their eyes.

He might have to leave before one of them mustered up the courage to come to speak with him.

He moved to another corner of the room, just in case.

He noticed his brother standing near Eloise, both looking like they would rather be anywhere else. Francesca was on the floor, dancing with a Scottish gentleman for the second time that evening and looking thoroughly smitten. As more of his siblings married, it became increasingly difficult to divert any suggestions for suitors that their mother threw at them. Since Francesca seemed quite taken with this man, it seemed that she would focus her efforts, as always, on Colin and Eloise. He was thankfully not obligated to ask anyone to dance, but poor Eloise could not say no unless Anthony said otherwise. That meant that, with Francesca nearly spoken for and Eloise, well, being Eloise, his mother liked to focus her attention on him and his potential wife. She certainly had her work cut out for her, with his unwarranted reputation and non-traditional career that left him away for months at a time. Not many young ladies were allowed to show interest in him, so when one did, his mother liked to work her magic and try to matchmake.

Of course, at that moment, he saw Violet speaking with a young lady and glancing over at him. She got that look in her eye like she wanted him to come over and start up a conversation and ask the woman to dance, so he quickly turned around and went onto a terrace for some fresh air before she could follow him while he waited for the song to end.

It wasn’t really fair to entertain other ladies at this point, he thought as he breathed in the night chill, looking over the dark garden illuminated by the moon. He used to do so, only to appease his mother, but the circumstances were different now. He was set on someone else, and to get their hopes up for a courtship would be disingenuous of him.

He had Anthony’s permission to bring Pen home.

Part of him felt guilty for hiding her true nature from him, but he couldn’t exactly explain to his brother that he might be in love with a mermaid.

He was due out again in a few days, which meant he was probably a month away from seeing Pen again.

He would plant the idea in her mind, the next time they met. She could have a few months to think, possibly get whatever affairs she had in order. On his way back to England, he could see if she wanted to leave with him. Stay with him. Marry him.

That might mean giving up sailing for a while. He didn’t think he would be able to sail through Devil’s Port anymore without Pen’s help. Her mother might be a problem as well, but he hardly thought she would be able to find them in London. It was a big enough city that they could live their lives comfortably, him working in the British East India Company offices and Pen at home, reading and writing and eating cake and doing whatever else she wanted to do.

The vision of his future floated through his mind once again. Her hair curled and piled atop her head, her body on a chaise longue, curled up and reading a book in front of a fire, her bright face when he arrived back home. Her gown sparkling in low candlelight as they dined together before retiring to their bedroom. Her skin warmed by the sun as they promenaded. Her laugh as she played with his nieces and nephews.

They wouldn’t have to part any longer. No more goodbyes, no more sneaking, no more secrets.

He finished the glass of champagne and moved back inside. The song had changed once more, this time to a waltz. While not appropriate for most young men to ask any old lady to dance this particular movement, more than one lady looked at his scruffy hair pushed back from his face, his slight beard, and his charming smile, and he felt their eyes will him into asking one of them to dance. Colin, however, had no intentions of taking to the floor with anyone but Eloise or Francesca.

He stood by his family, Eloise smiling at him and Anthony giving him a nod. He continued to drink more champagne and give non-committal answers to his sibling’s questions, his mind too distracted by what his life may hold.

Chapter Text

Colin felt more nervous these past few weeks than at any other point in his life.

After embarking again, with an extensive list of inventory to pick up and procure in the Mediterranean, he spent much of his time on deck, pacing back and forth or at the helm steering the ship. He usually left it up to Phillip or one of the other senior crewmen unless they were sailing through a difficult passage, but he found when his brain was occupied he was less likely to have spiraling thoughts of how Penelope might react to his proposition.

He even took the night shift several times, something he was not obligated to do at all as captain, but if he found he could not sleep, he thought he might as well relieve someone who would appreciate the break. He would work the sails, help the cook set up in the morning, swab the deck, anything to keep his hands and mind from straying too far from his work.

Phillip, of course, the good friend that he is, took notice after only a few days at sea.

“Is something wrong, Captain?” he queried.

“No, of course not! Why would anything be wrong?” Colin answered, too cheerful.

“You seem…not as poised, as you normally are,” he pointed out. At the moment, Colin was drinking some port in his bed and staring at his quill on his desk as it wiggled back and forth in the inkwell with the movement of the ship.

Colin debated making up an excuse, but if anyone on this boat deserved to know what was going on, it was Phillip.

“I—things might be changing a bit, very soon,” he said vaguely.

“What…what kind of changes?” Phillip looked confused.

“I might be leaving this ship.”

Phillip sat down, bewilderment on his face. “Is the company promoting you? Will you be on a different boat, or have a whole fleet perhaps?” he puzzled.

“No. I might be leaving sailing behind completely,” Colin clarified as he poured more wine into his glass.

“Are you unhappy? Do you not find as much joy in this as you did previously?”  

“Not at all, I…” Colin pondered if he should tell him, but it couldn’t hurt to have someone who knew what he was going through. He could leave the mermaid part out. “I’m thinking of taking a wife.”

“Really?” Phillip seemed surprised. “That’s quite the shock. You’ve shown no interest in any ladies before. Is your family arranging something for you?”

“No, nothing like that,” Colin assured him. “There is a woman I have in mind. If all goes well, she’ll come back with me to England before the end of this trip.”

“You can’t pay to have her sent over on a passenger ship? I don’t think a merchant boat is any place for a lady of status—”

“I can’t do that,” he cut him off. “I can’t tell you why, but I have to pick her up myself.”

I can’t very well tell a boat to sail through Devil’s Port, stop in the middle and pick up a red-headed mermaid. I would be institutionalized.

“I suppose if we must…” Phillip still didn’t look convinced.

“I’m not even sure if she’ll agree to come with me at this point, so don’t get too worked up about it yet.”

Phillip looked like he didn’t believe him but sighed and laughed. “Right. In the meantime, can you help with our food provisions? I think the new cook made a mistake and added an extra zero onto the amount of cured beef we needed to buy.”

Colin sighed and finished his glass before standing up. “I suppose I could do some work today.”

~

Now, a little over a month after he’d last seen Pen, they were about to make the familiar Devil’s Port crossing. The air was foggy, the crew was nervous, and for once, so was Colin, all bravado suppressed by his anxiety. All the feelings he’d tried to push down these past weeks boiled below the surface now, starting to pressurize and threatening to explode. He twirled his earring and bit at his nails as he steered the boat, avoiding rocks and reefs. Even concentrating on navigating, his mind would not quiet. The crew picked up on his unease, and the general emotions on The Lady Whistledown were quite heated and tense. They thought he finally ran out of confidence and audacity, and worried about making it through safely, without crashing and sinking the boat.

Colin wasn’t worried about dying, however.

He was about to ask a mermaid to go home with him, and he hoped she would say yes.

After a few hours in the fog, he started to shout instructions.

“Drop anchor and ready me a boat, lads!”

He stupidly forgot to pick up anything for Pen. If he was a smarter man, he would have a ring to accompany his proposal, but he was so concerned about what she might say that it completely slipped his mind to have a ring ready to seal their engagement.

Perhaps he couldn’t bring himself to think that far ahead.

The dinghy was dropped to the water, and a ladder hung over the railing of the ship. Instead of hopping over with his usual exuberance, Colin stared down at the boat, feeling the rough rope of the ladder beneath his hands.

If Phillip picked up on his emotions, he didn’t mention it.

“See you in an hour, captain,” Phillip said, waiting to see him off.

“Don’t worry if it takes a little longer today. My business might not be as quick as usual,” Colin warned.

“We’ll wait here until you come back, no matter how long,” Phillip assured him.

“Thanks, mate.”

He descended into the rowboat and started to go out into the heavy fog. Time moved both slowly and quickly as he rowed, stuck in this liminal phase before he greeted Pen and made his offer to her. His mind was both frantic and quiet, full of thoughts of only Pen and nothing else at all.

He stopped when he heard Pen singing, the beautiful sound echoing in the air.

Breathe, Bridgerton, he reminded himself. It’s still just Pen.

Her head popped out of the water, a big grin already on her face, and he couldn’t help but smile, too.

She wore fewer necklaces and bracelets than usual, only a couple of simple chains and bangles. She still smiled at him brightly, but she looked out of breath and a little frazzled.

“Hi, Colin,” she breathed.

“Hi Pen,” he replied shyly.

She cocked her head and furrowed her brows in concern before moving to rest on the side of the boat, her head on top of her folded arms. “Is something wrong? You don’t seem as cheerful as you usually are.”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” he tried to dismiss her concerns. “I just—” he stopped and sighed.

“Is it something at home? Or with your job?” she asked.

“Everything is fine, great even. I—sorry, I don’t have a gift for you this time,” he smiled.

Penelope looked sadly at her own wrists, almost naked with only a couple of bracelets. “That’s okay. Mother doesn’t let me wear so much jewelry anymore. Not becoming of a young mermaid, she says.”

“I’m sorry,” Colin rubbed her arm and kissed her forehead. “That’s not entirely why I’m so nervous today though. I—I wanted to ask you a question.”

“A question?”

“Something I’ve been thinking about for a little while now.”

“Oh,” she beamed. “Well, what is it?” she reached for his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Colin ran his fingers along hers for a few moments while he formed the sentence over and over in his head, testing to see which one sounded better.

“What would you think about, maybe, possibly…the next time I pass through here…” he fumbled. He took a deep, bracing breath. “Would you like to come live with me?”

Penelope’s breath stuck in her throat as she stared at his waiting face. The question surprised her, but it scared her in ways she didn’t expect.

She wanted nothing more than to go with him.

But how could she?

“Colin, I—I want to, but—”

“You can leave, right? There’s no reason you can’t?” he asked.

“My mother, she’ll try to find me,” she explained, her voice quivering.

“We can live in London, Pen. I highly doubt she could find you all the way up the Thames,” he assured.

“She would certainly try,” she guessed. Her mother, as frustrated with Penelope as she usually was, would likely go to the ends of the earth to find her if she disappeared suddenly.

“But there’s no mermaid-y reason why it wouldn’t work? No weird curse or special conditions that have to be met once a month or something?”

“Well, no,” she pondered. “It’s been done before, I think. Mermaids living with humans permanently.” There were stories of merfolk falling in love with humans and living on land permanently. It wasn’t encouraged, and often the stories were told as cautionary tales, with emphasis on how miserable they were on land.

“I won’t make you say yes, but please think about it?” He didn’t expect her to have an answer right away. He acknowledged that, while he’d been thinking about it for weeks now, this was a new idea for her and she might have to wrap her mind around it first.

“I want to say yes more than anything,” she told him. “I just—”

“It’s scary, isn’t it?” he gripped her hands, rubbing her skin with his thumb. “I’m scared too if I’m honest. I’d have to give up sailing, find us a house, get married—”

“Colin! I can’t ask you to give up your work for me!”

“I would still work for the British East India Company, just in their offices, not on a boat.” He smiled. “You’re worth it to me, Pen. I’ve realized I would do just about anything if it meant I could be with you all the time, not just for a few hours a year.”

“Colin—”

“Honestly, I’ve only kept this going for you, so I can see you, talk to you, feel you,” he’d started running his hands up her arms, his fingers gently tracing a path from freckle to freckle. “I’ve seen all of the world I wanted to see, made a name for myself, and now…”

“Now you want…me?”

“Yes,” the word escaped his mouth in a breath. “Nothing feels right anymore. I don’t want any of it, need any of it, if it means I can’t be with you forever.”

“I—Colin, you can’t mean that. I’m just…Penelope.”

“All I want is you, Pen,” he declared.

He would give his whole life up for me? Pen could hardly believe it. He loved his work, his boat, his travels, and he would give it all up for her.

“I just…I can’t see my life without you anymore,” he took her hands and kissed them.

“I—” Penelope heisted. “I guess I’ve seen these visits as an escape from my real life. They’re all I look forward to, anymore. I never thought…staying with you would ever be an option. I was ready to take whatever parts of yourself you wanted to share with me, I never expected you to want more,” she explained her disbelief.

“You don’t need to say yes, or give an answer now,” he said. “I just wanted to put the thought in your head. I wanted to tell you how I felt about you.”

They both went quiet, unsure of what to say, how to move on, so they simply held each other’s hands. Colin peppered kisses across her knuckles, slowly laying affection on each one before starting over again. She looked down at their entwined fingers, her blue eyes deep in thought. Saltwater still rolled off her slowly, and he watched as a droplet fell from her hairline, down the middle of her forehead before making a left turn to go around her nose, skirting just the corner of her pink, glistening lips…

God, he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to ravage her, take all that she would give him, and beg for more. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let go again.

He only hesitated because he didn’t want to push things, didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, or take things farther than she wanted them to go. He basically proposed marriage to her, and she hadn’t given an answer; if she didn’t want to go with him, surely, she wouldn’t want to kiss him.  

Penelope looked at him then and saw how his eyes stared at her lips. Did she dare?

“Pen, I’m sorry, I…” he trailed, his voice husky and low.

“Kiss me?” she blurted, surprise flashing on her face like she hadn’t meant to ask him out loud.

Colin hesitated for only a moment, before slowly closing his eyes, leaning down, and pulling her head up by her neck to meet him.

Fuck it. Fuck it all.

He met her gently, his lips ghosting over hers for a moment before lightly touching together, testing the feeling.

Penelope whimpered when he presses himself fully into her. She felt his hand go to the back of her neck, tilting her face gently upward. His other palm cupped her cheek so sweetly, so carefully, like he was afraid to move too much and scare her. She felt his tongue touch her lips, and she cried out again as she allowed him entry. She started to feel hot, a fire spreading from her head through her limbs, and she gripped onto his forearm and slipped one hand into his hair to try to anchor herself to him, hold herself down, because she was worried she might float away from happiness.

A kiss had never felt quite like this. He felt light and heavy at the same time, his heart trying to flutter out of his chest and a weight pulling down his stomach. A warmth spread under his skin, and he hmmp-ed as he felt Pen’s lips move in tandem with his, pushing in and pulling back. He gripped her harder, a hand on her cheek wrapping behind her neck and fingers slipping into her wet hair, pulling at her slightly. Emboldened by his reaction, she pressed the tip of her tongue to the seam of his lips and felt them part. She moaned then, feeling their tongues touch and his fingers pull at her hair. Her fingers do the same to him, her elbows braced on the boat as her hands hold his face and lightly pull him down to her. He let out a heavy sigh and wrapped one arm under hers around her shoulders. It’s like he wanted to crawl inside of her and never come out, he wanted to feel her, every single inch touching him, press her body to his…

“Pen,” he whispered, “I need—I want to feel you.” He moved to her even more, pressing her body into the wood of the boat as he kissed her again and again.

“I want—” Pen started but moaned as he kissed her ear, her jaw, his lips ever so lightly touching her gills. “Help me.”

“What do you—”

She pulled herself out of the water a little with her arms and Colin yanked her into the boat, rocking it in the water slightly. He settled her on his lap, his arms wrapped around her shoulder and waist. It was then he realized he’d never felt her tail or seen it up close. He stared in awe at the bright blue scales that faded into skin on her waist, the translucent fins on the sides, and her tailfin, nearly white in color. He lightly traced his fingers along her side, the scales wet and smooth. He felt her shiver, and he looked at her fin more closely, noticing a thick, jagged scar marring it on one side.

“What’s this?” he asked, gesturing down.

“I was hurt a few years ago. It’s fine now, it doesn’t bother me at all,” she explained, her hands resting on his shoulders and feeling his arms, clearly enjoying being so close to him. Her eyes were glassy as she stared, admiring his form and feeling his muscle beneath his coat.

Colin, however, seethed.  

“Who hurt you?” he gently fumed as he looked in her eyes. She was shocked to see such anger brewing beneath them, his eyes soft in concern but his brows pinched together, his jaw clenched.

“Some fishermen. It happens to us, sometimes.”

She felt him growl deep in his chest, and he rushed forward to kiss her again, open-mouthed and his tongue already feeling hers. He clutched her to him, ravaging her.

He overwhelmed her, with his mouth on hers and his tongue feeling her teeth and his lips pulling at her and his fingers in her hair and his hand on her neck. She hoped she met his energy, pushing her own tongue into his mouth, biting at his bottom lip when she pulled back only to take a deep lungful of air and crash back into him again. Her hands wandered, one gripped into the fabric of his shirt but the other feeling his arm, his hair, the gold hoop he wore in his ear.

They kissed for quite a while, enveloped in each other, chests pressed together as best as they could with her sitting sideways in his lap, her tailfin hanging into the water. They kissed for so long, she dried off quite a bit…

She suddenly pulled back, her eyes wide.

“I need to—I have to go soon, I’ve probably been gone too long—” she rushed, her hands pushing him away from her. His eyebrows scrunched together, confused.

“Why do you—oh,” Colin sighed, looking down at her body and noticing that she was nearly dry, though her hair still felt damp. Her bottom was in his lap, and her legs draped down over him, her feet resting on the side of the boat.

“Oh,” he sighed quietly.

It was different, this time, seeing her naked. When it was just them on the island, it was just part of Pen, part of who she was. This kiss, his question, his hard cock…

She was so beautiful.

And she was absolutely, completely bare.

It was like he saw her for the first time. Her breasts heaved with every breath, and her pink nipples pebbled in the foggy air. The hair covering her center only tempted him to touch her there, stroke her there, kiss her there. She saw him take her in, his cheeks and ears turning a bright red as he ogled her figure, and she smirked and wiggled her hips against his hardness, eliciting a sharp gasp and groan from him.

His fingers gripped her arms tight, like if he let go, he would lose control of his actions.

It wasn’t surprising that she was naked, he realized. It was surprising how much he wanted her now, how much he desired her, how much he needed her to touch him, kiss him, feel him…

This fantasy was real. His dreams came to life. He held a mermaid in his arms, and he kissed her, and she kissed him back. The air felt heavier, his breathing came faster, his heart felt lighter.

He needed her.

“Colin?” she faltered.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, and his mouth traced her ear. He kissed her temple, her neck, her jaw, his teeth nipping as he touched her, no reason to his movements, just feeling every inch of her he could. “I don’t know why I couldn’t see it before, you’re not any different, but now…,” he breathed, “you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Woman?” Penelope squeaked as he nibbled her earlobe.

“Woman. Mermaid. Siren. Goddess. Whatever. It doesn’t matter. I don’t care.”

He only wanted to feel every part of her.

His fingers first traced up the sides of her breasts, so, so lightly, she thought it might have only been a drop of water rolling down. His fingers would touch her and pull back so quickly it was like lightning, a mere shock of electricity as he worked up the nerve to grasp her. He traced the bottoms of them, his nails scraping against her skin as he thought about testing their weight in his hands.

“Colin,” she whined suddenly. She grabbed his hand and firmly placed it on her breast, holding his wrist so he wouldn’t move away. He moaned in her ear, his nose buried in her hair. She smelled like salt and ocean and cool air, and he thumbed her nipple as he kissed her neck and she moaned. He squeezed her, the flesh spilling out above his grip, and pinched and rolled her between his fingers and Penelope could not think, could not feel anything but him around her, could not form words if she tried.

Her inner thoughts fought with her lust, trying to puncture through the veil he’d thrown over her with his kisses and touches.

I need to get back, she thought. Mother will notice my absence, she’ll come looking—

“Ohhh,” she moaned as he circled her nipple at a steady pace, her breath catching in her throat and more fire flooding her center.

He paused, his hands still wrapped around her and on her breast. He pulled back to look at her, her lips red from kissing and her eyes dark and glazed with desire.

“Is this okay? You’re sure you—”

“Touch me,” she whimpered. If he didn’t keep touching her, she felt like she might implode, or burn up, or perish.

With her permission, his hands wandered and roamed, feeling her arms, her back, her stomach, her thighs before moving back to her breasts. He continued his exploration, figuring out the different noises he could elicit from her mouth, the different ways he could touch her breasts to bring her pleasure. Pen was alight, all logic and reasoning gone from her mind. As far as she knew, the only things in the world that existed were Colin and his hard cock in his lap beneath her, pressing into her backside with increasing urgency.

He continued down, down, down, gripping the flesh of her thighs as he pressed her into him, not trying to hide how hard he was, how much he wanted her. She in turn ground her bottom into him, a groan leaving his mouth before he went back to kissing her, more teeth and tongue than anything else.

He gripped her hip, torn between pushing her bottom down onto his erection once again and pulling her closer to his chest. He wanted her, he ached for her, but he couldn’t take her like that right now, but she felt so nice in his lap…

In his indecision, his hand shifted just a smidge to the front of her, and suddenly there was coarse hair beneath his thumb.

He froze, and his hands stopped as he realized where they were headed.

She hasn’t even said yes yet.

“Pen,” he whispered against his lips. “We should stop.”

“Probably the smart thing to do,” she mumbled and pecked his lips again. “I’m not feeling particularly intelligent at the moment, however…” she trailed as she pulled him in, tongue and teeth first as she kissed him silly.

“Mmmmm,” he hummed, threading his fingers into her hair and pulling her back with a tug. “I could stay right here forever,” he breathed, and moved to kiss her ear before whispering, “but I think we both have things we need to take care of.”

Reality flooded back in around them. They were on a boat, in the middle of a foggy sea, and Colin had a full day of sailing to do. He kissed her a few more times, a heaviness and desperation on his lips.

“Pen,” he sighed. “Just—think about it, okay?”

“Colin, I can’t—I want to but right now—”

“I’ll be back in a couple of months. You don’t have to answer now. Think about it, get whatever you need to in order.”

“I’m just scared, Colin. I want to, but I’m scared,” she worried.

“I know, Pen. But what in life isn’t worth being scared for?” he encouraged.

Pen laughed. “I supposed if I can kiss you like that whenever I want, it might be worth it.”

“I will kiss you like that and more if I get to see you every single day for the rest of my life.”

Pen smiled. “I really have to go. I’ll already be missed.”

“I’ll see you soon, Pen,” he said. She let go of his arms and stood up, the boat wobbling as she tried to keep balance. With a grin and a dramatic flair, she swooped her arms around and up, catapulting herself backwards in an arc and into the water. He could faintly see her red hair as she looped back up to see him as he started rowing back to the boat. 

Colin couldn’t help the smile on his face as he rowed back, but he felt heavier than he had before.

~

He arrived back much later than normal, but he expected it. His crew was annoyed and worried they might not make it through the rest of Devil’s Port before nightfall, but Penelope must have worked incredibly hard to send a strong, steady wind through his sails, even more so than normal, because they still made great time. He didn’t have the energy to think about what happened until he finally could turn the steering over to his second made and he retired for the evening.

Once back in his cabin and settled on his bed, he finally had time to process the events of the day.

He kissed Pen.

And she liked it.

And she still didn’t give him a definite answer.

In his deepest of fantasies, he hoped she would say yes enthusiastically. He supposed she didn’t say no, but he wished she was less hesitant about going with him. He was just as nervous about the whole thing as she was, he thought, and she seemed like she wanted to marry him, but there was more of a fear with her that he didn’t quite understand.

She said she wanted to, right?

Yes. She said she wanted to say yes more than anything.

He sighed and tried to push all thoughts of Pen to one side. He knew he could go in circles with this for the next two months if he let himself.

It was going to be a long few months at sea if all he could think about was the mermaid potentially waiting for him at the end of his journey.

He hoped Pen would really consider his offer.

And he hoped she made it back home okay, and her mother wasn’t too concerned about where she had been for two hours, because he didn’t think “I was off kissing a human sea captain” would go over with her too well.

Chapter Text

Penelope didn’t want to let Colin know just how panicked she was. Not by his question, but by her mother, whom she knew was already looking for her. She sent the swiftest wind she could to the sails of Colin’s ship as she swam back home, hoping that it would be enough to get him out of her pod’s territory.

Of course, she wanted to be with Colin, more than anything. She’d never wanted anything so much in her entire life. She almost couldn’t fathom being with him all the time, not feeling like she was leaving her soul behind every time she left him, waking up next to him, and falling asleep at his side.

It would be perfect.

It would be the hardest thing she ever had to do.

Her mother would never let her leave, not since joining this human-hating pod. There was a time in the past she might be convinced, but now it would be impossible. In her mother’s eyes, she had to marry a merman or not at all. A human wasn’t an option to her, and if Penelope ever wanted to be with Colin, she would have to sneak away and leave forever.

The moment her mother realized she was gone, she would do anything and everything to find her and bring her back. She would search every corner of every ocean, traverse every river, swim every sea until she found her and drug her back home, and she would never be permitted to leave her sights again.

If Penelope were to leave, she would never see her family again. She would leave her mother, her sisters, Felicity, behind forever.

She may never be a mermaid again.

Penelope’s heart hurt. Could she give up the sea for Colin?

She thought of her captain, of his smiles, of his kindness, of his generosity, of his beautiful heart, of his family she knew so much about but never met, of his kisses…

I would do anything for him.

He was worth it to her.

It’s not as though it would be that great of a loss. When she was able, she spent as much time as she could with her legs, and if she was able to now she would spend it among humans. She was not overly attached to her tail. Would she miss the sea? Of course, but she would gain so much more away from it. She would have a husband that loved her deeply, not just one that tolerated her presence, his family whom she hoped would love her too, and maybe even a few friends. He promised her a home they could live in together; he would give up his boats for her, his traveling for her, he promised they would make a new life with each other in it.

To be wanted, to be seen, to love without transactions, to be loved unconditionally in return…

That was what she would have with Colin, and it was worth more to her than anything else, more than her own dysfunctional family, more than any jewel, more than any mermaid tail.

She was still quite far off, but she could just see the colorful tails of her pod, circling their home. She’d been gone too long, she knew, and they must be looking for her. It was quite stupid, spending so much time kissing Colin, but it was hard to pull away. She’d kissed humans before, back when they were allowed to walk among them and have relationships with them, but she’d never felt like she did with Colin before. He made her feel beautiful, and light, and wanted, and loved.

She’d loved him for a long time, of course, since the moment he woke up and laughed at himself falling off his boat in a storm and waking up on an island with a strange naked woman. She looked forward to their time together, willing to take whatever he would give, any of his jokes, his smiles, his touches, the pieces of his life he offered up to her.

This kiss changed all that.

This kiss set her on fire, it showed her what she was missing, it showed her what she could have.

It showed her what she needed to do.

She gathered herself for a moment, willing her face to look the picture of wide-eyed innocence, before she swam over to her mother who was frantically swimming around, looking to the surface. When she saw Penelope, she zipped over and started to feel every part of her, checking her over.

“Penelope!! Was that a boat?!” she shrieked as she gripped Penelope’s face in both hands.

The lie came quickly to her. “It was, I tried to—”

“Why didn’t you come to me?” her mother cut her off.

This is bad, Penelope thought. She might be too frightened to listen to anything I say right now…

“I wanted to—”

“Ridiculous girl!!” she interrupted her again. “We can’t even try to take it down now, it’s too far gone.” Her mother grasped her wrist and pulled her as she swam, heading toward her own alcove.

“I’m so—”

“You aren’t to leave my sight anymore.”

Oh, no.

Oh, this was very, very bad.

“What?” Penelope tried to keep her fear from affecting her, but her voice quivered all the same. She thought she would have more time to plan, more time to prepare, but if she couldn’t easily sneak off anymore…

“Clearly you can’t be trusted to make smart, safe choices, so from now on you will have none,” her mother rushed her along and they’d reached her alcove. She pulled Penelope inside, settling next to her, and pressed her into a hug.

“I don’t understand,” Penelope cried. “I just went for a swim, I was coming to find you—”

“It isn’t safe for you, Penelope!” her mother pressed into her, pulling her head into her neck and holding it there. “Just think what could have happened had you been seen! I could never forgive myself if you were hurt.”

“It was perfectly fine, Mother. No one saw me. I know how to hide.”

“While that might be true, you were alone with no protection, from me or anyone else here. It’s not safe for you.”

“I can take care of myself—”

“Not like we can take care of each other, my sweet child,” her mother kissed her forehead. “You need to find yourself a partner, so I won’t have to worry so much.”

“Penelope?” Felicity swam over when she saw the two of them. “Is everything okay? We were worried for you when you didn’t show for dinner.”

“I’m fine—”

“Your sister needs constant supervision, Felicity,” her mother explained, petting Penelope’s hair, much to her annoyance.

“What can you mean, Mother?”

“One of us needs to be with her at all times. No more sneaking off for her. Now that you’ve found yourself a husband, she can be the focus of my attention, and hopefully we might find a match for her—eccentricities and all.” The exasperation was clear in her voice.

“Mother, if Penelope doesn’t want—”

“It doesn’t matter what she wants. It’s about what she needs, and what is best for our family. When she marries, our position will be secure here.”

Penelope’s heart clenched. “Mother, I—”

“My word is final, Penelope,” her mother grit out. “You will marry, and you will do it as soon as possible.”

Various plans formed in Penelope’s mind. She knew of so many ways to sneak out, but most of them relied on her family not noticing her presence. If she wasn’t allowed out of her mother’s sight, it would be nearly impossible to escape.

Colin wouldn’t be back for weeks or months anyway. She had time to figure out a way to leave. She should bide her time, get as ready as she could, and prepare to disappear. She hoped with all of her heart that her mother wouldn’t find a suitable match for her in that time, and she would do everything in her power to make herself as undesirable as possible.

~

Weeks passed by, and her mother did not go back on her word.

During the day, she was not allowed to leave their home. She was forced into conversations with eligible mermen, to play games with her sisters, to help prepare food. At night, one of her sisters or her mother slept with her, to make sure she couldn’t sneak away. It was torture, it was agony, it was driving her mad. She felt stifled and forced into a box she was not made for. Her freedom was gone, her voice was unheard, and she didn’t know what to do.

Her mother had thrown her in the direction of every unmarried merman in their pod, to little interest. Penelope didn’t exactly help things along, with the bizarre jewelry she insisted on wearing and her complete unwillingness to have any sort of conversation. Her mother tried to explain it away, saying Penelope was always shy and unsure of herself, but that didn’t explain her odd answers to questions, like where she always wandered off to (“I like to be alone, it quiets the voices.”) or why she wore so much jewelry (“I’m worried I will float away without it.”).

The absolute worst was using her magic on boats. Not many came by anymore, maybe once a month, but when they did, she was pulled along with her sisters and the rest of the pod to go eliminate the threat. She faked most of it; only when she felt her mother’s eyes on her did she send out a harsh wind to appease her.

No men died, thankfully. Penelope wouldn’t have been able to rescue them if they fell overboard or if they managed to sink the ship. Evidently, boats were being built stronger and faster, and it made it out of their territory before they could do any serious damage.

There was no way she could spot Colin before her mother like this. His boat was not fast, especially while laden with goods on his way home to England, and there was no hope of him racing out of range. The only way he might have a chance is if he could outlast their magic, and with so many merfolk, it was a nearly impossible task.

She dreaded the day he would pass through again, expecting to bring home a wife, but only finding a siren’s fury.

~

Colin put Pen from his mind the best he could.

It was far easier said than done when everything reminded him of her.

The red sun setting over the Mediterranean Sea looked like her hair. The sky on a clear morning looked like her eyes. He rolled out of his bed during an afternoon nap because of a particularly bad wave, and he could only laugh sadly, wishing she was there to see it and make fun of him. He sang songs to make the work go by faster but could only think of how he wanted her there to sing with him.

He was smitten.

He tried to not think about her lack of an answer. He knew why she couldn’t say yes or no, he knew that it was a lot to spring on her out of nowhere, he knew she would need time to think about it and make a plan, but he still wished she would have given him an enthusiastic “Absolutely, I would love to.”

It would have set his own heart at ease and stopped its constant racing and thumping in his chest.

He still had work to do, of course. He had an extensive list of things to pick up or buy, and The Lady Whistledown was constantly stopping at ports for a day or two, filling up their inventory a little more, and moving on to the next stop. He’d done it dozens of times now, maybe even hundreds, the same route with little deviation. He met with friends he’d made over the years, having drinks in dark pubs, conversing in bits of broken English, Spanish, Italian, French, even German. He bought more illegal wine and liquor, remembering to get more cognac for Anthony and more of that merlot for Lady Danbury. Penelope never mentioned if she liked to drink, but he got her several bottles of a fine Champagne anyway.

He thought they might drink it on their wedding night.

She was everywhere, his mermaid. He wanted to make her happy, to make her comfortable, to give her the life she deserves, to kiss her, to hold her, to love her—

Love?

That’s it, isn’t it?

He loved her.

He would do anything for her, go anywhere for her, fight anyone for her.

She was everything.

He didn’t know when it happened.

When he started to live his life for her, and her alone.

The ship didn’t matter, the black-market liquor didn’t matter, his life didn’t matter.

Penelope mattered.

It was a revelation that brought both joy and terror to Colin. It explained his recent actions, something he wanted to write off as infatuation, as an obsession with saving her from her horrible mother, as selfishly wanting to have her to himself. It wasn’t selfish, though, when he would give up his entire way of life to be with her, to keep her safe, was it?

And yet, she hadn’t given him an answer.

He couldn’t think of what it might be like if she said no. Instead, he decided to plan for if she said yes.

While in Italy, he had a thought; Penelope would be completely nude out of the water, and she probably didn’t have any clothing of her own that she would bring with her. He figured she would want some sort of wardrobe when she arrived. Maybe it was putting the carriage before the horse, but she couldn’t exactly walk around naked on the ship or in London, so he started to buy some things for her, whatever he saw that he thought she would like.

It was easy enough to explain away his purchasing of fine Italian gowns and dresses. He regularly bought fabric to sell, everything from Chinese silks to American cotton; eliminating the sewing part could only increase the value of the garment, surely. He also bought her chemises, corsets, shoes, stockings, hair ribbons, gloves, and whatever else a lady might need to clothe herself. A lot of the Italian styles were likely too lightweight for London, especially if they were to return in November as planned, but it would have to do. They were in a variety of colors, all of which he thought Penelope would enjoy, everything from sea green to a deep, burgundy red.

As he continued on, it was more of the same, picking up things for work and for Pen. In Greece, he was to pick up some spices imported from India, and as he waited in the busy market, his eyes wandered. He saw a jewel merchant’s stall, and on impulse, he strode over and looked at what he was selling.

He sold various necklaces, bracelets, earrings, chains, tiaras, brooches, and hairpins, all of the finest quality and in several styles. Among the rubies, diamonds, emeralds, garnets, pearls, and amethysts, there was a beautiful ring.

It was a simple gold band with a single setting filled with a sapphire, but it was the color of the stone that drew him in further. Rather than the traditional deep vibrant blue, this stone was a light, cornflower color.

It was exactly the color of Pen’s eyes and tail.

He hesitated for only a moment. She could still say no. She could reject him and never want to see him again. She could turn her back on him forever.

And yet, something about this ring called to him.

This ring was meant for her.

He’d bought her an entire wardrobe. What’s one more ring going to change?

“Excuse me, sir, how much for this ring?”

“Ah! An excellent eye!” the merchant replied in with a thick Greek accent. “This is a Sri Lankan sapphire, and a very unique color at that. The stone is small, but it will cost you a pretty penny…”

After some haggling, Colin walked away with the ring in his pocket in a small box.

He should be happy about finding his future wife’s engagement ring.

Instead, it felt like lead.

~

Back at the ship, Phillip noticed a change in his friend and superior’s demeanor immediately.

“Everything all fine, Captain?”

Colin sighed. “You remember that woman I told you about?”

“Yes, the one we’re meant to pick up on our way back. Did something happen?”

He pulled the box from his coat, and Phillip’s eyes widened. “I bought a ring and suddenly this all feels very real.”

“I’m sure she’ll love it,” Phillip assured him, turning his focus to the numbers in front of him.

“I just hope she’ll say yes,” Colin worried.

Phillips’s head whipped up from his papers to look at him, brows furrowed. “You mean she hasn’t yet agreed?”

“I made my offer and said she could think about it. She’ll tell me on our way back,” Colin explained.

Phillip smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “If you don’t mind me saying so, I don’t know how she could say no.”

Colin returned his grin sadly. “I hope you’re right, Phil.”

That night, and all the nights after, he would fall asleep holding the ring in his hand, dreaming of Penelope, thinking of their life together, and hoping she could love him too.

~

Weeks later, Colin awoke in Spain after a fitful night’s rest. It was dawn, the sun just cresting to the east, painting the sky in shades of navy, orange, pink, and purple. His mind was surprisingly clear despite the lack of sleep. He was in his regular room at the same inn he always stayed at, and the familiarity comforted him. He oriented himself in his body, wiggling his toes under the thin blanket, stretching and clenching his fingers, opening and closing his eyes as they adjusted to the low light. He still wore his coat, he noted, which was why he didn’t feel the morning chill as much as he should. He slipped his hand into his pocket and felt around, finding the small box and grasping it.

He wasn’t sure when he bought it if it was the right thing to do, but he wanted to get her a ring anyway.

He pulled the box out and released the small clasp to open it up. The ring was still inside, just where it ought to be.

He hoped it would be on her finger by tonight.

He said goodbye to Miguel who only replied with a grumble, and climbed onto The Lady Whistledown. Everyone was slowly starting to prepare, but when they saw their captain was awake and on board, they moved a bit faster, eager to leave.

Phillip was taking a final inventory when Colin found him.

“Plan on leaving in one hour, Phil,” Colin ordered, already turning around to go to his cabin.

“Colin,” Phillip stopped him.

“Yes, what is it?”

Phillip looked hesitant, but sighed and started, “Colin, aren’t we meant to retrieve your woman on this trip?”

“We will be taking her with us today if all goes well,” Colin curtly explained.

“Is she in town? Should we wait a while for her—?”

“No,” Colin cut him off. “She’s not here.”

His tone indicated he wouldn’t answer any further questions, so Phillip only huffed and turned about on his heel, resuming his taking of inventory.

Colin went to his cabin to change into fresh clothing. He often wore the same thing for days or weeks, with the limited space available on a boat severely limiting his storage for clothing, but if he was to get engaged today, he wanted to look presentable and smell as little of the sea as he could. He also cleaned up a bit, placing his books back in his cabinet and his various papers strewn about the room in a drawer, even folding his dirty trousers and shirts and storing them away in his trunk. He wouldn’t want Penelope to trip over a pair of his shoes the first time she was aboard his ship, and she would likely spend a lot of time in here if only to keep her away from the other men on the ship. While he trusted them to hoist sails and steer them towards England, he knew they were likely to ask far too many questions of both him and Penelope about where she came from and what she was doing with Colin.  

He took his place at the helm and rehearsed how this day might go in his head as his crew weighed anchor and set sail. He wasn’t sure if hope was clouding his vision, but he had a feeling that she would be in his cabin tonight. He wanted it more than anything he’d ever wanted before.

He wanted Penelope to be his wife.

It felt like both minutes and days to Colin before they reached Devil’s Port. His grip on the helm was tense as he sailed into the familiar waters, anticipating the usual mist conjured from nowhere. His men kept to their usual posts but sent scared looks to their leader, whose honest face gave away just how nervous he was. He continued on, but in his heart he felt something out of place, something that wasn’t fitting correctly.

Something wasn’t right.

After an hour, his stomach started to turn.

The fog never came.

The sky remained a clear blue, a few fluffy clouds floating above, the pleasant weather in stark contrast to the dread and despair that clenched in his chest. He didn’t know what it meant, he didn’t know if she was there and not hiding him or if she didn’t show up at all. He tried to trust that she had a reason for it, that she didn’t want to hide anymore, that she was ready to go with him, but he thought she still wouldn’t want his crew to find out about her secret…

His answer came in the form of grey clouds forming above. The wind whistled around the sails, whitecaps whipping up on the tips of the steadily growing waves. He didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to think that she would do this, couldn’t wrap his mind around her doing this to him. The sky grew darker, the sun blotted out, and rain started to pour down in sheets, soaking everyone.

“Take down the sails!” he shouted.

“But sir, we’ll never make it through—”

“I can’t control the ship in this weather,” he yelled through the sound of the crashing waves and rain pounding the deck. “We won’t make it through anyway if we keep going.”

“Are we to anchor down?” Phillip asked, incredulous.

“What else would you suggest?” Colin jabbed.

“Go as fast as we can!” Phillip snapped.

“Even a ship built for speed can’t outrun this! We’re too slow, and too heavy right now! The best we can do is wait!”

He knew if he waited long enough, she would run out of energy. Penelope had explained before that mermaids do not have infinite power, so if he could keep his ship from capsizing, they could make it out of this alive.

“What about your woman?” Philip inquired.

Colin turned his face so his first mate wouldn’t see his eyes redden with tears. “She won’t be joining us.”

His heart hurt as he strode onto the deck to help his crew take down the sails and drop anchor, slipping and sliding on the wet wood.

This was as clear of an answer as he would get.

She would not go with him.

As his head raced and his chest tightened, tears fell from his eyes, mixing with the rain. His wet hair was plastered to his head, his hands having a difficult time gripping the rope as his boots begged for purchase on the wood. He clenched his teeth and wailed, hoping everyone would think it was in frustration, in pain, and not from anguish.

He loved her, and she would not have him.

He was so wrapped up in his own emotions that he did not see the wave coming.

He felt The Lady Whistledown start to list, more than it should, even in a storm like this. It kept going, and going, and going, and his feet slipped. He held tight to the rope, but everything was wet, and slick, and he lost his grip. His legs fell from under him, and he fell to his stomach. The boat was still rolling in the water, tilting more and more and more, and he slipped down, arms flailing helplessly, trying to grab onto something, anything. His crew watched in horror as he screamed, calling for them, but if they tried they too would be in danger.

For the second time in his life, Captain Colin Bridgerton slid off his boat into the waters of Devil’s Port in the middle of a storm.

Chapter Text

Penelope knew it this was it.

That was Colin’s boat.

It was fairly large and slow-moving, and already the gathering merfolk were excited about an easy target.

She knew, after a time, that it would be any day that he would come for her. She’d paced, bit at her nails, tried to sneak off but was always caught, and she’d spent hours staring out into the sea, hoping she would see him first.

She did see him before the others, but only by seconds and not minutes. Not enough time to try to hide him, to try to warn him, to go to him.  

Penelope could do nothing to stop all of them.  

He was here for her, and when the storm started, he would think he betrayed her.

“Mother!” Penelope gasped as Portia suddenly swam past, grabbing at her wrist.

“Let’s go, Penelope,” she said, dragging her along.

It had already started, she noted. Even from down below, she could tell the sun was blotted out by dark, grey clouds, and the wind whipped whitecaps up on the waves. The currents changed around her as her mother and other merfolk started their horrifying work.

“You better join in, Penelope,” her mother warned, her eyes fierce.

“I don’t think I can,” Penelope said.

“Why ever not??” Portia whipped around, taking Penelope’s shoulders in her grip, her nails digging into her skin.

“I—I know that boat.”

“You—” Penelope watched as recognition flashed across her mother’s face. “That’s where you’ve been wandering off to, isn’t it? You’ve been speaking with humans!”

“I—yes.” No use in lying now.

She was going to find him.

“Penelope!” her mother started to berate her, but Penelope couldn’t hear anymore. It was like time stopped, her vision focused, and all her other senses turned off.

Penelope saw a figure fall into the water.

It was far, far off from where she was, grouped together with her pod, but she knew.

It was Colin.

Penelope’s heart raced. Her body tensed, and she couldn’t help but watch as he tried to swim, floating along next to his boat, but he looked to be struggling…

Her mother saw immediately what she was staring at and moved in front of her.

Penelope was panicking but trying to keep a level head. “I’m going.”

Her mother scoffed. “And why would I allow you to do that?”

“You may not allow me, but I am going.”

Penelope started to swim around, but her mother grabbed her tail and pulled her back viciously.

“You will not leave me, Penelope! You will stay here and bring down this ship with me!” she commanded.

“I will not,” Penelope emphasized each word with a jerk of her tail, trying to break from her mother’s grip.

“Why? For some stupid human? You would go to a man before your family?” Portia taunted.

“Yes, mother,” Penelope seethed. “I love him, and I will go to him!”

“You can’t love him, he’s human!” Portia bit back.

“Who says I can’t? You?” Penelope was done holding her tongue for the sake of her family. Her rage directed her words, made her pull and pull and pull against her.

“Yes! Me, your mother who loves you and knows what’s best for you!”

“Do you really know what’s best for me or do you just want me to do your bidding?” Bitterness filled Penelope’s voice.

Shocked at her daughter’s words, Portia let go of her tail before suddenly swimming around and grabbing Penelope’s arm in an iron grip. “You will leave him! You know it isn’t safe—”

There was a crash from above. A bolt of lightning struck one of the masts of the ship, and the top of it broke off and crashed into the water. Everyone looked away from the arguing family to see what the noise was.

Penelope wrenched herself away from her mother, and swam as fast as she could, faster than she’d swam in years. She didn’t look back, didn’t turn around, only looked above, at the shadow on the surface struggling to stay afloat.

Portia started after her, but Felicity stopped her with a shout.

“Leave her mother! She doesn’t want us anymore!”

Penelope looked back briefly at her sister’s words, but instead of contempt, her eyes conveyed courage.

She was trying to buy Penelope time to get away.

“It doesn’t matter what she wants! She doesn’t know what she’s doing!” Portia snapped.

“I think you’re too late anyway, Mother,” Phillipa pointed out, gesturing to the man floating in the water.

Penelope was about to reach him.

“Ahhhrg!” Portia roared. She made to go after her but was stopped by another mermaid who’d broken off from the main group, a puzzled look on her face. She watched Penelope swim away, and turned to Portia.

“Where is she going?” the mermaid asked.

Portia thought quickly. “She’s—going to take that man down, the one that fell off the boat.”

“Ah, excellent! Good on Penelope, taking the initiative!” the mermaid went back to the rest of the group, already telling them what was going on.

This ship was not sinking, and Portia had more magic to give. Reluctantly, she watched her daughter grasp the man, and cling to him, their silhouettes joined and becoming one dark shadow above them.

~

Colin was trying to swim in the frigid water, but wave after wave engulfed him, trying to drown him.

This storm was worse than the last one he’d gone overboard in, the wind stronger, the rain pounding his face, the water easily overcoming him, not to mention the freezing cold temperature. He was a tough man, but he wouldn’t last very long if he didn’t get back onto the boat. He hoped that because they were anchored someone might see him and toss him a rope or a float, but the odds were slim. He’d moved to the lower deck, and he never wore anything to identify him as the captain. It could be hours of this weather before anyone noticed that he was gone.

With no one to save him.

Colin was completely, utterly, tragically alone.

And he was going to die.

“Help!” he cried, hoping someone might hear him and look over into the water. “Help me! Down here!” he roared, but the pounding of the rain on the deck combined with the crashing of the waves on the boat made it almost impossible to hear himself, let alone anyone on board.

“Hel—ack!” he tried to call out again, but a wave filled his mouth with saltwater.

There was a loud crack, and Colin couldn’t see the source at first. He thought it was lightning until he saw the top of one of the masts start to tip over, and crash into the water with a loud smack! He watched as it bobbed along in the waves, rolling past him and out to sea. The ship could still sail with only two fully functional masts, but they would be much, much slower…

He kept himself afloat, but it was like something was trying to pull him under, push him down to the sea floor. He fought and struggled and thrashed, but his chest hurt from the cold and his arms were starting to fail him…

A movement beneath him. Probably just Penelope, coming to finish him off.

He could tell it was her from her red hair and glittery blue tail below the surface.

He was prepared to claw his way back up the boat if he needed to, but rather than grab his legs and drag him down to the deep, Penelope popped up above the water and grabbed his face, relief plain on her features. The waves, while still turbulent, were no longer violent, and Colin noticed he no longer had to swim quite so hard.

“Penelope!” he blurted.

“Colin! Hold on to me!”

He wrapped his arms around her waist, and her hands left his neck. She held them out to her sides, just resting on the surface. They were bobbing along with the waves, but they no longer overwhelmed him with each pass. He found that he almost didn’t have to move at all, and his body still stayed afloat.

Was she…?

She was controlling the water.

And keeping him upright, and alive.

“How did you find me? I thought—”

“I saw you fall in, and I had to come to you!” she shouted over the roar of the waves.

“How did you know it was me?” he inquired.

“I knew it was your boat as soon as I saw it, and you do have a penchant for going overboard,” she smirked, and Colin laughed. Even now she was making jokes, trying to distract them from the fact that they were on the verge of dying. She saw his lips were a scary shade of blue.

Pen could only do so much on her own, and a huge wave went over their heads, pushing them closer to the side of his boat. Perhaps someone would see them, but the clouds completely blotted out the sun, and they were toward the back of the ship…

“Pen! Can’t you stop this? I thought—”

“I’m only one mermaid, I’m fighting against everyone else right now!”

“Everyone else?” he questioned.

“My family, my pod, the other mermaids,” she explained.

“How many?”

“Probably twenty at the moment. They do it in two waves, usually, since our magic isn’t infinite.”

“Why are they doing this?”

“Because you are human! It’s what they do,” she lamented.

Colin gripped her waist tighter, his face eye-level with hers.

“Where were you, Pen? I thought it was you, making the storm, I thought you betrayed me—”

“I know and I’m sorry! I wanted to stop it, but—”

“But your mother found out about me, didn’t she?” he interrupted.

“Not exactly. She wouldn’t let me leave or go anywhere, because she saw your boat the last you were here, and I didn’t tell her about it. She said she couldn’t trust me anymore. I dreaded the day you would come for me because I knew this would happen, I knew you would be seen, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. She had no idea you existed until five minutes ago.”

A wave smashed them into the side of the boat. Colin grunted, taking the brunt of the blow, while Penelope kept them afloat, using her magic to keep the waves from going over their head.

“How are you here if she wouldn’t let you leave?” he asked.

“I’ve been...well, I ran away, I suppose.” Penelope supposed that was what she did, though she didn’t quite believe it yet.

“You ran?” Colin questioned, his eyes twinkling.

“Oh, you know what I mean, you ass. I saw you fall in, and I had to go to you.”

“You had to save me again,” he smiled.

They slammed into the side of the boat again. Penelope could easily keep them on top of the water, but it was very difficult for her to disperse the force of entire waves. She needed to get them out, she needed to figure out how to get them on the boat…

“Pen, I have to tell you something,” Colin declared.

“Can it wait until we aren’t bobbing around in the ocean in the middle of a storm?”

“No, it can’t.” He seemed very serious, and Penelope turned as much attention to him as she could. “I can’t die without telling you that—” Colin unwrapped one of his hands from around her waist, still clutching her close, her breasts pressing into his chest, and grabbed the side of her face and neck, his fingers rubbing her skin. “I love you Pen. I love you so much, and I should have told you sooner,” he proclaimed and kissed her hard. Even with the cold, the rain, the wind, and the waves moving them around constantly, Penelope’s heart soared. She had just leaned in to kiss him back when he pulled away and started again, “I just—I didn’t know that’s what this was. I see you everywhere, in everything, I think of you every hour, of your laugh, of your smile, of your wit. I can’t see my life without you anymore, and I should have known that it was love.”

“Oh, Colin—” she was stopped by a strong wave washing over them, her distraction preventing her from mitigating it at all.  

She could almost steady them in the water with her magic, but she was already feeling drained. Clearly, no one noticed them, bobbing around in the water, because it had been many minutes since Colin fell overboard but there was no commotion on deck from what they could hear. It was also surprising her mother or one of her sisters hadn’t come to fetch her yet, but her time was running out. No one was coming to help them, so she had to find a way to get them out…

If she couldn’t push back against the giant waves, she could push them up.

“I think I can get us onto the ship.”

“How—?”

“Where is the best place? Where I’m least likely to be seen?”

Colin thought of the layout of the ship and knew the back was the least likely to be occupied, with no one at the helm and everyone trying to batten down, frantically scurrying around the main deck. The Lady Whistledown wasn’t exactly a giant Spanish galleon, but it wasn’t small, either, and the back of the ship was quite far from the surface of the water…

“The stern, the poop deck, but—”

“Ha! Poop deck!” she laughed. Her arms were still, her brow furrowed in concentration, and her eyes closed.

“It’s the tallest deck Pen, how are—”

A giant wave was moving toward them, and Colin was terrified, but instead of going over their heads, it lifted them up, up, up…

It happened so quickly, so impossibly, Colin was surprised when his foot clipped the railing and caused them both to fumble the landing a little. They held tight to each other as they crash-landed on the boat.

Colin managed to take most of the blow, pulling Pen’s back to his front as he landed on his bum before knocking his head on the deck. He groaned, and Penelope sat up. Indeed, no one looked in their direction. Colin noted Phillip was giving orders, and his men were all diligently at their tasks, the rocking and wet wood making it difficult for them to keep their footing.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think I’ll be fine, though I’ll have quite the knot on my head,” Colin said as gingerly pushed himself up, feeling the back of his head and checking his hand for blood.

Wave after wave slammed into the boat, unnaturally coming at it from all sides. They were completely drenched, though everyone else on deck seemed to be as well. One came over the railing on the stern side, the cold shocking them and making it impossible to breathe for a moment.

As they got their bearings, they clung to each other. Penelope’s hair was completely pushed to her face from the wave, and she parted it with two fingers so she could see Colin laughing at her.

“You look a bit like an Irish Setter that’s had a bath,” he said as he helped push her hair back behind her shoulders.

“What’s an Irish Setter?” Penelope puzzled.

“Ah, it’s a breed of dog,” Colin explained.

Penelope looked miffed. “I’ll forgive you for calling me a dog only because you let me land on your lap,” she said with a wiggle of her bottom. He gripped her tightly to him, kissing the side of her hair.

Everything was chaos around them, men running to and fro, pulling at ropes, re-tying knots tighter, trying to keep the sails from unfurling and floating off into the sea. Everyone was trying to stay alive; no one saw their captain and a mermaid suddenly appear on the boat.

Her heart finally settling down, she looked at her tail—

“Colin,” she whisper-yelled, “help, someone will see—"

“Pen! Here,” Colin shucked off his coat and threw it over her, and luckily she was small enough that she was mostly covered from shoulders to tail, with only a little bit of her fin sticking out. They still went unnoticed by the crew, everyone still fighting with the rain and wind. Penelope leaned back onto him, her energy completely drained. Colin reached down and straightened the coat so she was completely covered, should anyone see them. Penelope smiled up at him, her body starting to go limp, unable to keep herself upright. His own shirt was already soaked through, and he knew he needed to get her inside.

The ring—

Colin gasped, and reached down into each coat pocket, frantically feeling around.

Please be here, please, by some kind of mermaid magic, don’t be at the bottom of the sea—

There.

He felt the box in his hand, and while the leather was completely soft from the water, he could still undo the clasp and take the ring out. Penelope gasped when she realized what he held.

“Oh Colin, is that—”

“I bought this, very optimistically, when I was in Greece. I saw it, and I thought of you, and I had to get it for you. If you don’t like it, I can get another, I’ll get you any ring you want—” he rambled.

“It’s beautiful,” she smiled, cutting him off.

“I should have had this when I proposed the first time, but I’m not exactly known for my forethought,” he chuckled.

“You have plenty of forethought where it counts,” Penelope joked.

Colin grinned and took a deep breath. The rain still poured, the wind still howled, and the ship still rolled back and forth in the waves, and he was absolutely freezing, but now was as good a time as any.

“I’m not sure what the mermaid marriage proposal tradition is, but this is the human one. It’s a symbol of my commitment to you, my pledge to protect you, care for you, provide for you. It’s to show everyone that you are mine, and when we are wed, I will wear one too, so everyone knows that I am yours.”

“Oh, Colin,” Penelope was holding up the coat, but she leaned into him even more and hoped he got the message.

Colin smiled. “Can I marry you, Penelope? Would you be my wife?”

“Well,” she chuckled, “since I’ve pulled you from the ocean after you’ve fallen off of a boat twice now, I supposed it’s the least you could do.”

Colin smiled from ear to ear, took her left hand from under his coat, and slid the ring onto her finger. “I suppose I’ve developed a habit of falling off boats.”

“I’d hardly call twice a habit. Three times, well, I might start to be concerned.”

“What would you say if I told you I once fell off a dinghy while in my cups at my family’s country home?”

“I wouldn’t be very surprised, though I would wonder who saved you since I was not present,” she jested.

He laughed.

It was only then that his crew noticed them, pointing up at their figures. Phillip ran over, a few crew members following him. Everyone was drenched, the rain still pouring down, the ship still listing in each direction.

“Captain! How did you—” Phillip started but was startled when he noticed a woman on board. Penelope’s eyes widened, and she tried to remain completely still so as to not expose her tail or fins at all.

“Phillip, this is Penelope, the woman I’ve told you so much about. Pen, this is my first mate and good friend Phillip,” Colin beamed.

“Where did—how did—” Phillip sputtered.

“She was floating at sea in the storm, she went overboard her ship. It’s rather lucky I found her, is it not?” Colin lied as he wrapped his arms around her. She would never dry off in this rain…

“Yes, rather fortuitous, indeed…” Phillip was a smart man and didn’t quite believe his Captain, but questions could come later when they weren’t fighting a storm.

“I’m afraid Miss Penelope is rather indecent under my coat,” Colin said, tugging the garment tighter around her for emphasis. “Might all of you give us some privacy while I take her to my cabin out of the weather?”

“Yes, of course,” Phillip said. “You all, back to work! This isn’t over yet!” he ordered, and everyone scattered back to their posts.

With so many eyes no longer on them, Colin first opened the hatch to the stairs that lead inside, rather than take her all the way down to the main deck before entering the boat. He scooped Penelope up into his arms, the feeling of her tail shocking him for a moment. She wanted to wind her arms around his neck but was too worried about potentially exposing her naked chest, so they remained firmly crossed under his coat, choosing to lean into him instead. The stairs into his cabin were quite steep, and he nearly toppled over once, but they both made it safely inside. Water was already starting to splash in, and he was about to set her down on his bed, but she protested first.

“Colin! I’m soaking wet, and I don’t want to sleep on a damp mattress. Just put me down here,” she gestured to his plush rug.

While he had his qualms about placing a lady on the floor, he did as she asked. He quickly shut the hatch door, sealing them inside. He removed his wet coat from her and took a blanket from his bed and floated it down, covering her once more.

“I should be dry soon, you won’t have a fish on your floor for much longer,” she smiled, snuggling into the blanket against the cold.

He surprised her by sitting down on the floor next to her. “Fish or feet, I’ll take you however you are,” he said, taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles next to her ring.

“I don’t think I said it back when we were nearly dying in the ocean,” she started, “but I want to make sure you know.” Their other hands moved to join, and Colin kissed her lightly on her lips before she continued. “I love you, Colin.”

He chuckled and grinned. “I love you so much, Pen. I’m so excited, for this, for what’s next.”

“It doesn’t quite feel real, does it?” Penelope sighed.

“It feels like both the most real thing I’ve ever experienced and the most wonderful dream,” he breathed.

There was loud shouting from outside on the deck. The couple looked at each other for a moment before Colin started to stand.

“I should probably get back,” he explained. “If we’re to wait this out, they’ll need me.”

“I understand. A ship needs its captain,” Penelope smiled.

“Once you, ah, have your legs again, you’re welcome to the bed. I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

“If I don’t collapse here for the next few hours, I will absolutely take advantage of it.”

“How long should this last, do you think?” he asked.

“Probably five more hours,” she replied sadly.

“I’ll have my work cut out for me then,” he said. “I have to get us out of Devil’s Port once it’s over as well.”

“I’ll try not to hog the bed when you come in,” Penelope giggled.

He would have a woman waiting for him in his bed.

He could sleep with Penelope in the same bed.

The thought thrilled him.

“Oh!” he jumped, going over to a trunk on the side of the room. “If you would like to get dressed, I bought some things for you.” He opened it up and pulled out one of the dresses. “There’s corsets and stockings and things too. I hope it wasn’t too presumptuous of me…” he seemed shy suddenly.

Penelope lit up. “That’s wonderful, Colin! I appreciate it!” She genuinely did. She was surprised he’d thought of it, honestly, because it was only when he’d placed her on the rug that she remembered she would eventually need clothes when she dried off.

He closed the lid and reluctantly made his way to the door.

“I’ll be back soon, Penelope.”

Colin returned to the helm. It hurt to leave her, but not nearly as much as their previous goodbyes because he could return as soon as the storm was over and they were out of Devil’s Port.

Penelope’s guess turned out to be correct, and it was almost exactly five hours before the waves calmed, the rain stopped, and the clouds cleared. It was dark, and they could see every star in the sky. It was a difficult five hours, but they lost no more men, and the boat was mostly intact.

“Weigh anchor!” he commanded. “We sail for England!”

Even down a mast, they were still able to put up nearly every sail. Their speed was only mildly impeded by the loss, and before he knew it, Colin had navigated through the rest of the coral reefs and rocks into calmer, safer waters.

He let go of the helm. Phillip came to take over.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

Colin smiled. “Everything’s brilliant, Phil.”

Phillip rolled his eyes. “If I need anything, I’m sure I’ll know where to find you.”

Colin nearly skipped away. “I’ll be in my cabin with my fiancé.”

~

Portia was drained of all magic, as was everyone else in her pod. It pained her to know Penelope was above water with that human, that she had saved him.

The shame was overwhelming. To have a daughter that ran off with a human, a man, was unthinkable, unbelievable, unacceptable. Portia couldn’t help but think she could have done more, been there more for Penelope, prevented this from happening. Penelope was always the quiet one, the easy one, the smart one. She didn’t have to think about Penelope most of the time, because the girl didn’t do anything, she always came back at the end of the day, she always did as she was told without any sass or backtalk.

Clearly, Penelope was smarter than even Portia knew, if she was meeting a human for Poseidon knows how long.

This would never do. Penelope’s actions just now would besmirch the good name of the rest of her family. They would be ostracized! Her girls’ husbands would leave them, they would be put out to sea once again, all alone with no protection. Portia had to come up with a plan, say something to make it seem like Penelope wasn’t the one at fault…

“He took her! He took my daughter!” she shrieked.

Every head turned to look at Portia, clutching her hair and swimming in circles. They didn’t need to know that Penelope was the one who lifted them onto that boat.

“She went over to kill him, and he took her, he captured her and took her onto his boat!”

They all started to gather around her in a half circle. Murmurs started passing around the group. She didn’t think anyone saw what happened, she hoped no one saw.

“I must save her from that human. Will anyone help me?” she frantically passed from mermaid to merman, looking into their eyes, pleading.

No one spoke for a few moments, unsure of what the correct course of action should be.

Finally, their leader revealed himself, parting the crowd to reveal himself. He looked at Portia with sympathy, a sad smile on his face.

“Of course, we will.”

Chapter Text

Penelope was asleep when he returned.

It was cold on the ship, so she was wrapped up in his blankets, only her head and her red hair visible. A dim oil lamp hung in the corner of the room, casting her figure in a golden glow. He watched her face, her features soft, her breathing slow, and longed to crawl in beside her and curl his body around hers, but he was absolutely, completely, soaking wet.

He sat on a wooden chair by his door to remove his drenched boots. It proved to be incredibly difficult, the leather not wanting to move from his trousers and feet, and even with some extra effort to be quiet, he grunted and huffed and sighed. He managed to wrench one foot free, then the other, and when he looked up again, he saw that Penelope was awake and smiling at him from the bed.

“Hello, Pen,” he smiled.

“Hello, Colin. Are we out of Devil’s Port?” she croaked, the sleep still in her voice.

“Yes, we’re past it now,” he answered, standing up and moving closer to her and the lamp so she might see him better. She noted that he was still very damp, his hair still stuck to his forehead and neck, and his shirt stuck to his skin.

“Are you coming to bed?” she asked.

“Yes, but…” an idea formed in Colin’s mind. “First, I need to change out of these damp clothes.” His hands started to move, and Penelope’s breath left her lungs.

He shrugged his braces from his shoulders, the straps resting against his hips and thighs. She watched his arms as they moved back up, and started to remove the shirt. It was both too slow and too fast, observing him slip each button through its hole, one by one. She could have watched him unbutton his shirt forever, watched his fingers delicately and deftly slip across his chest and torso, revealing more and more of his skin to her, shimmering slightly in the lamplight. She watched as he tugged the rest of the shirt from his trousers, and whipped his shirt from his body, the damp fabric hitting the floor with a slap. His chest was covered with a light dusting of hair all over, the muscles moving beneath the skin of his arms. He was built like a man that pulled ropes and pushed oars and lifted heavy crates, and Penelope wished he would pick her up and throw her over his shoulder and carry her around the ship simply because he could.

He smirked when he caught her staring. “I suppose if I’m going to sleep, I should put on my nightclothes,” he purred and started unbuttoning his trousers. The left side first, then the right, and the placket fell down, and the rest of his trousers followed, pooling around his ankles before he stepped out of them. His lower half was much the same as the top, all muscles and wet skin and a bit of hair. She glanced at his cock and saw that it was incredibly, incredibly hard, and glanced up at his eyes to see him staring at her, hungry and wanting and longing.

It was different, she realized, than her being bare-breasted around him. It wasn’t something she’d thought about before, and now she understood this obsession humans had with nudity. She was always naked; he’d never seen her otherwise. Penelope, however, had never seen more of Colin than his chest, even when they were stuck on the island together. He’d always kept his shirt loosely on, and his pants completely buttoned. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen naked men before, because she’d seen more than she could remember, but this was…new. It’s not like he was carved from marble or built like a Greek god; he was fit, and had muscles, but no more than any other sailor, and yet him standing in front of her in the nude, his erection blatant and unhidden, staring at her like she was a drink of water on a hot day, her heart pounded in her chest, her blood ran like fire in her veins, and her breath caught in her throat.

“I still need to dry off,” his voice cracked, “before I get into bed.”

Before she could even think, she uttered, “Would you like some help?”

She watched as he exhaled shakily, his eyes boring into her.

“Yes.”

Penelope sat up, the blankets falling from her chest. Colin looked down at her breasts for only a moment and held his breath as he watched her swing her legs over the edge of the bed, plant her feet on the floor, and stand up.

She glided over to him and craned her head to look up at his face, their bodies not quite touching, but he could feel the heat radiating off her.

“Do you have a towel?”

“In the cupboard, over there,” he croaked, his voice failing him, and gestured to the wardrobe in the corner. She turned around and opened the doors, scanning the shelves, but all he could do was admire her bottom and the way her curls draped against her back.

She came back with a flannel in her hands. “Where do we start…?” she purred, and his body set on fire as she looked him up and down before meeting his eyes, mischief twinkling in her gaze.

She picked up his left hand, and started with just his pinky finger, wrapping her fabric-covered hand around the digit and wiping it off from base to tip. Next the ring finger, the same action removing the water from his skin, all while she went back and forth from staring at his fingers, enamored, and staring at his eyes, lust clouding her vision. Every finger was cleaned, and when she got to his thumb, Colin’s breath caught in his throat when she wiped him off and left the smallest, tiniest kiss on just the end of the finger, her blue eyes looking up at him through her lashes.

Colin had never been so hard in his life. He felt the pressure building in his veins, his heart pounding in his chest as she wiped him off all the way up his arm, squeezing his bicep with a smirk. His stomach wouldn’t stop doing joyful flips as she gave his other hand the exact same treatment, only instead of a single peck, she kissed the tip of each finger as she finished, clearly relishing in how his breath stopped each time she did it.

“Fuck, Pen—”

“Shhh,” she shushed him, “I’m not done yet.”

She wiped down his chest, pausing to run her bare fingers across his chest and down the trail of hair on his abdomen. He couldn’t look away as she stopped, lingering just below his hip bones, pressing in slightly and sending a shock up his spine before she knelt down and he exhaled. She ran the flannel along the tops of both feet first before running it up his left calf, massaging the muscle and lightly trailing her hands along his skin. She moved to the other calf and paused for a moment, and Colin finally looked down at her to see her sitting on her legs, her eyes hooded and her mouth ever so slightly smiling.

She looked up and saw him watching her and she smirked, and raised up to her knees, slowly, her face moving up inch by inch until she was at eye-level with his aching cock.

“Pen,” Colin moaned. “I think I’m quite dry, now.”

She only giggled and rubbed down his thighs, and he could feel her breath ghost over his dick, and he moaned again when her hands wrapped the flannel around behind him and dried his buttocks, gripping one in each hand and pulling his hips closer to her mouth.

He closed his eyes, anticipating her lips finally touching him, finally feeling her on his hard length, finally giving him some relief from the pressure building in his body.

Only, instead of feeling her, he felt absolutely nothing.

He opened his eyes to find her standing up and her back turned to him, hanging the towel up on the line strung between two hooks on the walls.

He huffed in bewilderment, and she turned around to smile at him.

“Are you sure you’re dry enough? I wouldn’t want you to catch a chill, and I know it’s cold in here, but I don’t think we can do anything about that on a ship—”

“Pen,” he interrupted, stepping closer to her. He ran his fingers up and down her arms lightly, feeling goosebumps raise on her skin.

“Yes, Colin?” she whispered, and he heard her breath hitch as his touches moved from her hands to her hips and trailed slowly, slowly up. Her eyes closed as he felt her stomach, soft under his palms, moving to her sides to follow the curves of her waist. Her arms came up to his shoulders as he buried his head in her hair and his hands went up, up, up, wrapping around her back and pulling her a little closer, his thumbs tracing just the sides of her breasts but not quite where she wanted.

Colin knew she was about to do something by just the feel of her muscles beneath his hands. He pulled his head back to look down at her, just before she…

She backed away.

He stepped toward her.

She, again, backed away.

He huffed and quickly moved to grab both of her wrists. He pulled her arms and yanked her body towards his, their chests smacking together with a gasp, and her legs now backed up to the bed. He let go of her hands and quickly wrapped his arms around her shoulders and waist, pressing himself into her, no chance of her pushing him away, and the little siren had the audacity to smile at his harshness. He felt her pebbled nipples against him, her soft flesh pressed into his hard lines, and he moaned, uncaring if anyone heard him outside the room.

He put his head down next to her ear (as much as he could, since, he noted, she was quite short), and rumbled, “Pen, I don’t know if I can take much more of this—”

“So don’t.”

Colin pulled back, confused, to look at her face, and noted her tiny smile and twinkling eyes. “What?”

“Don’t take it,” she dared him. She looked hot, a flame burning within her, her breaths coming in quick pants. She couldn’t imply—

“Take it?” he questioned, still not quite believing her meaning. She rolled her eyes.

“You don’t have to take it. You can just—” she paused and grinned, “—take me.”

The tight coil keeping his fragile sense of gentility together snapped. He lunged forward and devoured her lips, growling into their kiss as he pushed her back onto the bed with his body. He never knew himself capable of such wanting, such desire, but here he was, ready to give her anything she wanted, and take whatever she would offer.

She kissed him back, her teeth playfully biting at his bottom lip as she pulled back and dove in once more, tongue first. Her hands were everywhere, feeling his arms, his chest, his hips, touching firmly and never quite where he needed her to. She was rough, and her nails dragged across his skin, leaving red marks and a burning fire behind. Her skin felt soft under his fingers as he grabbed at her, roughly holding her body to his, feeling her breasts pushed against him, her thighs wrapped around his, his hips grinding against her leg and pressing his length into her flesh. He groaned at the pressure, but couldn’t help but want more, more skin, more heat, more touch.

This was too much and not enough, it was torture and rapture, it was angst and joy. How was she doing this to him? How was she making him lose all sense, all logic?

“What are you doing to me?” he grumbled into her lips. “What magic is this?”

“No magic,” she replied, breathless as he moved his touches to her chin and neck. “Just love.”

“You haven’t put some siren spell on me?” he asked, only half-joking.

“No,” Penelope’s laugh turned into a moan when his lips found her breast. “Only water magic—oh,” her explanation was cut off by his tongue, which moved to her nipple and gave it a strong, wet lick that turned into a bite.

Colin smirked at her reaction and moved back up to her face, his lips readily finding hers once more. He wanted to inhale her, to devour her, but found some satisfaction in thrusting his tongue into her mouth again and again, biting at her lips and tearing the mewls from her throat. She wasn’t nervous, about any of this. She showed no reluctance, no uncertainty, no shame for what they were doing.

He pulled back from the kiss, and observed her eyes open, her mouth still wet and puckered for more, before asking, “Penelope, this might be a stupid question since I think I know the answer, but have you ever done this before?”

“Well…” she hesitated, some of her confidence retreating.

“If you have, it’s not a problem. I have too. With women. A few times. Only once with—ah—all parts involved…touching,” Colin rambled.

“All parts involved?” Penelope raised her brows.

“I—um—I’ve only been inside a woman once. And I didn’t finish. Inside of—her. I’ve heard too many stories of sailors putting a child in a woman and only finding out years later, or never at all. I’ve done other things—lots of other things—but not usually…that,” he bashfully stuttered.

“Ah,” she laughed. “Well, I’ve done this before. A few times, actually, with ‘all parts involved.’”

Based on her incredibly effective seduction, Colin was only a little surprised, mostly because she had hardly seen a human in the time he’d known her. “How?”

“The mechanics are exactly the same, I can assure you,” she jested.

“I suppose, ‘When?’ would have been the better question,” he chuckled.

“I know, I just like to poke at you,” Penelope smiled. She paused for a moment before she answered, carefully choosing her words. “The last was about six months before we left, so probably a year and a few months before I saved you the first time,” Penelope smiled, and Colin rolled his eyes before she continued. “You know we walked among humans occasionally when I was younger, and I was desperate for any attention I could get since no one at home paid me any mind. It was probably stupid, but I wanted someone to desire me, and some men were willing to give me what I needed. It was never…” she searched for the right words, “it never felt like this. It never felt like it meant anything, like something I would look for. Whenever it happened, it was because they sought me out.”

Colin smiled pensively for a moment. “I thought I was supposed to seek it out, you know. As a sailor, it was just—something sailors did? And it was nice, in the basest, most animalistic way, but it was never like this. It never meant anything, but for whatever reason, this feels—” he rambled, and stopped to search for the right words.

“It feels real?” Penelope coaxed.

“Yeah. It feels like—like I could do this forever, like if I’m not with you, a piece of me will be gone,” Colin breathed and pressed his lips to hers again, before pulling back quickly, an urgent thought crossing his mind. “Wait, aren’t you worried about—children? Is that still poss—?”

“It is,” Penelope interrupted, “but it’s not likely to happen. It…doesn’t occur very often, when it’s a human and a mermaid, so it wasn’t even a thought I had back then.”

“You’re just full of secrets, aren’t you Penelope?” Colin peppered kisses along her neck, his fingers trailing across her nipple, beneath her breast, across her stomach, touching her hipbone before just feeling the hair at the apex of her thighs.

“I’m not sure what you—oh!” she was interrupted by his fingers slipping between her folds, finding her sensitive pearl immediately.

“What was that?” he smirked. His fingers continued to slide against her as he kissed down her body, following the same path as his hands moments before. She moaned in anticipation and at the feeling of him pleasuring her, up and down in an easy rhythm.

Colin slipped off the bed and onto his knees on the floor. When he removed his hand from her to balance himself and adjust his body, he heard her whimper. He pulled her by her calves to the edge and hooked her legs over his shoulders. He looked up to see her expression full of curiosity, and her breaths coming in heavy pants, her chest heaving with the effort.

“Why don’t I show you a few of my own…”

He gripped her thighs, and she sucked in a breath and held it there as his hands trailed up, up, so slowly up toward her apex. He rubbed his thumbs along her outer folds, the slightest friction tearing a moan from her mouth. He watched as she threw her head back and pulled at the blankets beneath her.

He parted her, revealing just how wet she was. Her flesh was bright pink against her red hair, glistening with her slick, and he could see her swollen clitoris. Colin breathed in her thick scent and exhaled heavily, and she wriggled in his grip, groaning in anticipation when she felt his breath tickle her. He chuckled and moved his face even closer, his nose nearly touching her pearl but not quite, and she whined, trying to push herself to him but unable to fight his strength.

Her back arched off the bed when his tongue met her in a thick, strong stroke before he put his lips to her and sucked.

It took her by surprise, the greediness of him licking and slurping at her, and she cried out. He listened to her body for a few moments and quickly discovered what caused her to moan the loudest. Pen was already climbing, her cunt throbbing, coiling tighter and tighter. Colin relished her taste, lapping and fluttering over her again and again.

“Oh, oh Colin,” her voice trembled as he overwhelmed her, relentlessly working at her clit, a finger slipping inside her and curling, his other hand still wrenching her thigh open. She rode his face and he let her, his tongue just a toy she used to find her pleasure, his fingers matching the pace she set, pumping and curling in her in time with her hips. He looked up at her and saw her eyes closed, her mouth open, her noises ringing around the room. He watched her as he kept going, kept licking and sucking and thrusting, her body following a rhythm that suddenly became a little faster but he still did exactly the same thing and saw her mouth close for a moment, her body tense, her walls clenching around his fingers, then a high-pitched whine fell from her lips and he knew she made it.

It was beautiful, watching her come. She lost all control of her body, her hands clenching in his hair, in the blankets, on her breasts, reaching for anything and everything. He felt her insides flutter around him, tightening like a vice and releasing over and over, and he only wished it was his own cock inside of her. He slowed his movements, following her lead, watching as her breaths came slower and slower, and finally, he stopped, removing his fingers, and pulling his head away. She looked down at him then, and he knew he must look quite the sight, his face covered in her fluids. Her eyes widened and she smiled, her head falling back onto the pillow, and she radiated joy as she giggled.

“I thought you hadn’t done this much before,” she joked.

“I said I hadn’t had intercourse very much,” he explained, crawling back up her body and lying next to her. “That is a different act, and something I like to think I’ve perfected,”

“Based on the fantastic release I just had, I would be remiss to call that anything other than sex,” Penelope complimented.

Colin started to run his hands up and down her body, just tracing her curves. Penelope reached her hand across herself and down, searching blindly for only a moment before her fingers met the hard tip of his length. It was already weeping, she noted as she wrapped her hand around him and he groaned. He shifted up onto one arm to look at her face, and she tried to put on an innocent smile. “Yes?”

He sighed and laughed and buried his face between her breasts. Penelope chucked and brought her other hand around to hold his head to her. He peppered small kisses everywhere he could reach as she moved her hand up and down slowly on his member, swirling her thumb over the head each time.

“I never realized how different this would be,” he whispered against her breast, his lips tickling her pebbled nipple.

“How can you mean?” Penelope breathed.

“I’ve only ever known you like this, with your breasts free and your body naked, but somehow…” he looked up at her, his stormy eyes meeting hers, “somehow, even though I’ve never known otherwise and never even took a second glance before, I cannot seem to get enough of you.”

Penelope whined as he buried his head between her breasts, and her hand held him there, pressing him into her. Colin could barely breathe, but he did not care, he did not want to ever leave.

It was so, so stupid of him, but he wanted nothing more than to bury himself inside of her. She said earlier there was little chance of a child, and they were to be married as soon as they arrived in London…

He was an idiot, but he needed her.

He loved her.

He sat up a little, and the look on his face must have betrayed how serious and conflicted he felt because Penelope attentively waited for him to say something.

She wants this too, right?

“Penelope, can I…”

“Yes,” she rushed, meeting his lips, and whispering against them, “the answer will always be yes.”

He laughed and sighed, and rolled on top of her, settling his hips between her open and waiting legs. She took his length in her hand, and he hoped that this would not end embarrassingly quickly. She guided him to her entrance, and he entered her slowly, gently, at first, pushing in so he could feel every inch enter her. Penelope wouldn’t have that, and after only a moment took a handful of his bottom in each hand and made him thrust into her completely, her back arching as her hips met his.

He was relentless, tired of waiting for her, tired of the longing and teasing and anticipating. She took everything he gave her with a moan, his hips finding her rhythm on instinct. Already Penelope could feel the pleasure building once again, easier than the first time. The noises he made above her, the grunting and growling and groaning, sent her into a frenzy, her muscles clenching and her hands grasping any part of him they could touch.

It wasn’t enough for Colin, however, and he took one of her legs and hooked it around his arm before settling back into his bruising pace, and it was perfect, perfect, perfect.

He hit every part of her, and she enveloped him, her heat feeding his pounding, pulling almost entirely out before slamming back into her to the hilt, over and over and over.

“Oh, Colin!” she cried. “I’m—I’m so—”

“Are you close, beautiful?” he hummed, his words matching the pumping of his hips.

“So—so clo—oh!” Penelope could hardly get the words out for the ecstasy threatening to spill from her.

“Come with me, Pen.”

In contrast to her earlier orgasm, she came silently, at first, her mouth open in a soundless scream before the cries were ripped from her mouth. Her head pressed back into the bed, her back arching up, her thighs tensing around Colin’s hips and as he watched her fall apart, he followed her close behind. As he came inside her he grunted into her ear, whispering, “Pen, oh, Penelope,” over and over and over as his thrusts moved slower and slower within her.

With all their energy spent, Colin rolled off her, and immediately pulled the blankets over them. Penelope was still unable to move her body much, the pleasure still slowly trickling out of her, so she could only roll over as he wrapped an arm around her waist. Her back now to his front, he pulled her into him, his body curling around hers, the pieces of them fitting together perfectly. No words were needed before the two of them drifted off to sleep together.

~

Penelope liked to wander around the ship. Colin offered to keep her entertained, but she knew he still had a job to do. The crew already knew of her presence, so it wasn’t like she had to hide away in Colin’s cabin. She’d become quite good friends with the cook, and he made for good discussions when Colin was busy. Phillip was a wonderful conversationalist as well, and he liked to pick her mind about all the plants she’d seen while living in the Mediterranean Sea. He seemed to pick up on the fact that she wasn’t exactly normal, and though he didn’t ask too many questions, he did ask about a plant that she may have encountered “while living her particular lifestyle,” which indicated to Penelope that he thought she wasn’t just some girl who lived in Europe her entire life and fell in love with a sailor. It probably didn’t help that the entire ship could hear them every night as they had sex.

Colin explained the cover he’d come up with for her strange upbringing, but Penelope wasn’t convinced that everyone wouldn’t just think she was a prostitute he’d found and fallen in love with. Not that it really mattered to her what other people thought, but it would make their life together easier if people believed she was English and had lived all over Europe. The hardest part, she thought, would be convincing his family and the rest of society in the first few weeks. Not that she cared if they thought she was a prostitute, truly; Colin said his family wouldn’t care even if she was, and they would be married in a few weeks anyway, so whatever the ton had to say wouldn’t matter. It would simply make their lives easier if they believed she was a well-educated lady who had lived an unconventional life up to that point.

The clothing Colin had picked for her wasn’t exactly her style, and all the dresses had to be hemmed nearly six inches, but they fit around her waist and breasts which was all that truly mattered. He guessed her measurements surprisingly well, and she couldn’t hold getting her height wrong against him since she’d had a tail most of the time she spent with him. The bright fabrics left much to be desired, and Colin did say she might look out of place in England, but the styles were popular in Italy, and he told her she could order whatever she wanted once they arrived.

They fell into a comfortable routine after a couple of weeks. During the day, Penelope would read or write or talk with whoever wasn’t busy, and Colin would work. At night, they would make love and discuss their future and their lives and tell stories.

One particular evening, as they lay in bed sweaty and panting, their limbs entwined after their second round of sex, Penelope started to worry.

“Colin? Do you know when we’ll arrive yet?”

“Already tired of me, are you?” he chuckled.

She smacked him lightly. “I just need to prepare myself. I’m going to meet your family, aren’t I?”

“You are, and I swear, they will love you from the moment you meet. I promise,” he reassured her and kissed her hair.

“I hope so,” Penelope sighed.

Colin buried his head into her neck as he grumbled, “We’ll be in London in four days.”

“Only four?” she exclaimed.

“There’s no need to worry, my love. Let’s just enjoy these last few days together before I have to share you with the world.”

~

Not far behind, Portia and her three other daughters followed the ship. For weeks, they remained hidden as they trailed The Lady Whistledown, it’s pace achingly slow. Portia would not leave, however, until she was certain where they were going. A ship like that would only dock at a large port in a large city, and she just needed to figure out which one.

At the start of the third week, the boat went through the English Channel, and the options dwindled from there. When it finally turned toward the mouth of the Thames, she turned to her daughters.

“We can go home now, girls,” she explained. “I know where we can look for your sister.”

First, she needed to recruit more help.

Chapter Text

London stank.

Penelope noted the stench as they navigated the Thames, a putrid mix of human waste and decomposing food seeming to emanate from the river.

“Does the entire city smell so…strong?”

“It’s a little better in Mayfair, I promise,” Colin reassured her from his place next to her in the carriage.

Her fretting had set her on edge. They’d arrived that morning in port, and it had taken most of the day for Colin to oversee the offloading by the dockhands, not to mention calling a carriage that would take them to his family’s home. Then they had to load up their excessive amount of luggage (three trunks, four cases, and six hatboxes, of all things) and slowly make their way across town to London’s west side.

The wait only caused Penelope’s thoughts to race.

“You did tell them when we would arrive in your letter?” she worried.

“Yes, and we are exactly on time. They will be waiting for us.”

“You’re sure they are expecting us this late in the day? I thought we would be there this afternoon—”

“I told them we would arrive around dinner, and it will be about five o clock in fifteen minutes.”

“Is that when you eat dinner?”

“Yes, Pen,” he laughed. “Everything is going exactly according to plan. I promise you. Even if we were late, it would not reflect badly on you.”

“Wouldn’t it?”

“Of course not. I’m the one who brought you here and planned the entire journey. It would be my fault if we were late because that would mean I didn’t plan correctly,” he reassured her.

“If you’re positive,” she replied but didn’t seem to believe her words.

He sighed.

“We should go over your story,” Colin said. “Where are you from?”

“My parents are English, and I traveled in childhood, but we settled in Portofino, Italy, where I met you.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-three. That isn’t a lie, though.”

“It’s still important. How did we meet?”

“I was promenading with my family one afternoon while you were docked. You saw me and introduced yourself. Every time since you’ve stopped in town to seek me out.”

“And your mother doesn’t like me.”

“And my mother doesn’t like you. Also, not a lie.”

“And your father?”

“Dead.”

“Good. And you’ve been disowned and cast away, your family never wishing to see you again.”

“Again, quite a truthful statement.”

And it was. Thinking of it, she would likely never see her family again. As much as they fought with her, tried to control her, tried to change her, they were still a constant in her life. With them gone, she felt out to sea, as it were.

“And on this last trip, I picked you up in Portofino, no matter what any rumors might say.”

Because of his fame, Colin often heard exaggerated tales of his travels second-hand. Once he was at White’s when someone asked if it was true that he had a wife in every country and that’s why he was gone so often. It wouldn’t be unheard of for him to correct someone and say, no, he did not pick up his wife out of the middle of the Bay of Biscay during a storm.

“Right,” Penelope sighed.

She didn’t like lying, but it was necessary to keep herself safe. As wonderful and kind as his family might be, they could not know about her secret. If they were to discover she was a mermaid, she wasn’t sure what could happen to her. Not that she thought they would put her in a giant fish tank for display, but they might shun her, or tell her secret to someone else who would wish her harm. It was an easy enough secret to keep, and she planned to do so for the rest of her life.

“You’ll be fine, my love,” Colin reassured her. “We’re nearly there. It’s at the end of this road.”

Number Five looked quite grand, though she supposed it would have to be to house four of his eight siblings in addition to his mother and himself. Surrounded by townhouses equally as large, all of the same brick, only distinguishable by brass numbers bolted to the facades, she noted the stone steps leading to the massive front door were lined with pots of fresh flowers, either silk or from a hothouse given the cold weather. As the carriage rolled to a stop, she inhaled deeply.

“Are you nervous?” Colin asked, taking her hand.

“A little,” Penelope admitted. “I’m worried I’ll be overwhelmed.”

He chuckled. “You might be,” he replied, “but I promise they are all kind, and we can head straight up to our room once introductions are done. We’ve had a long journey,” he reassured her.

“Our room?” Penelope furrowed her brows.

“Well, my room, but we are to be married, so technically our room now,” he smiled.

They left the carriage, Colin continuing to hold her hand as they walked up the stone steps into the house. It was dark outside, but the interior was lit with flickering candles, casting a warmth over the foyer.

His family all stood in a line inside. Penelope could only guess who was who based on their ages, for they all looked to have the same chestnut hair and similar faces. The oldest woman, whom she could only assume was his mother, stepped forward, a bright smile on her face and her arms open.

“Colin!” she exclaimed, and he sat down his case to embrace her, pulling her in tightly.

“Hello, Mother,” he mumbled into her hair as she squeezed him.

“I’m so happy to see you, my dear,” she pulled back and grinned, taking in his face and figure.

“I hope you received my letter?” Colin hesitated.

“I did, I received it just a week ago,” she said, turning to face Penelope with the same bright face. “You must be Penelope!”

“I am. It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Bridgerton,” Penelope started to bow into a curtsy, but she was swept up into her future mother-in-law’s warm arms.

“Oh, please, call me Violet. We’ll be family in a few days time,” she assured, still not releasing her. Penelope leaned into it, closing her eyes and hugging her back.

“Thank you for welcoming me into your home, Violet,” Penelope said as they moved apart. “I know you hardly know me—”

“Colin’s told us so much about you, I feel as though I do,” she said. “Let me introduce you to the rest of us, those that live here, anyway.”

“Could I try to guess?” Penelope wondered. “I feel as though I know everyone, from Colin’s stories.”

“Of course!” Violet took her over to the two youngest.

Colin shot Penelope a look of worry, but she started, “You are Hyacinth and Gregory?”

“Yes!” Hyacinth exclaimed. “I’m so pleased to meet you, I’ve heard that you lived on the Continent, you’ll have to tell me what it’s like, I’ve always wanted to—”

“Yes, I’m Gregory,” the other sibling bowed to her. “Pleasure. You’ll have to excuse Hy, she talks a lot.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Penelope grinned at them.

“I was expecting you to be at Eton, Greg,” Colin remarked.

“We’re off for winter holidays. It is December, Colin,” Gregory sassed. Colin rolled his eyes at his youngest brother’s cheek, and Penelope couldn’t help but smile at their relationship.

She moved over to the next young woman, who looked at her shyly. “You are Francesca?” she guessed.

“Lovely to meet you, Miss Penelope,” she curtsied.

“And you as well,” Penelope dipped her head in return.

“You probably know who I am,” the last woman started before Penelope could even ask. “I’m sure I feature often in Colin’s tales.”

“You are most definitely Eloise,” Penelope laughed.

“I can assure you I’m likely nowhere near as annoying as he says. I merely know my own mind,” Eloise assured.

Penelope laughed. “We’ll have to meet for tea one afternoon, once things have calmed down a little.”

Now at the end of the line, Colin explained, “Daphne lives in the country with her husband, Simon, and their children, and Benedict just got married to his wife, Sophie, so you’ll meet them eventually. Anthony and Kate live in town, at Bridgerton House.”

“We’re to meet them for dinner this evening,” Violet interjected.

“Are we?” Colin asked, confused. “It’s just, we had such a long journey, and we’re so tired—”

“Everyone’s missed you so much, Colin, and with such—surprising news about your impending nuptials, it’s prudent that we all dine together as a family,” Violet’s tone shifted a little.

“But, Mother—"

“Eloise, why don’t you show Penelope upstairs to her room,” Lady Bridgerton—Violet, she had to remember—gestured to her daughter.

“Her room?” Colin startled. “I thought she might stay with me while we were here—”

“Colin,” Violet snapped her head to him. “You are merely engaged. There is enough scandal caused by the two of you staying in the same house while you are unmarried, but we have no other choice until the ceremony on Wednesday. You will sleep in separate quarters, in separate wings, until you are joined in matrimony.” She smiled through her entire speech, but Penelope detected a particular tone in her voice similar to one utilized by her own mother when speaking to her children.

“Mother—”

“This is non-negotiable, Colin!” she exasperated. “Eloise, Penelope, let us go.”

Colin shot a sorry look toward Pen before she was taken by the hand of his sister and pulled gently toward the staircase.

“We should leave as soon as we can,” Violet explained, “so if you could change for dinner, we can go once you are ready. Nothing too fancy should be required since it is only family.”

“Of course,” Penelope said.

“Here we are,” Eloise stopped her in front of a large wooden door. “Mine is across the hall, should you need anything.”

“Thank you,” Penelope said. “I should only need a few moments to change and arrange my hair.”

The handle was heavy as she turned it and pushed the door open. Candles were already lit, filling the space with a glow. Green paper adorned the walls, and soft blue curtains covered the windows. Beneath her feet was a sage green rug, which she imagined would be quite soft under her bare toes. The large wood bed took up not even a quarter of the space, with a spread of robin’s egg blue covering it and fine decorative pillows. She’d never imagined a room could be so expansive, with a wardrobe, dressing table, and empty bookcase lining the walls.

“Wow,” she whispered to the empty room.

Someone must have brought up her cases and trunk while they were doing introductions because they were already laying by the wardrobe. She opened the heavy wood lid to her trunk, rifling through it for a moment before pulling out the dress she sought: a slightly formal gown in a shade of deep sea blue, the silk fabric shimmering in the light.

“This will do,” she said to herself, and started to change.

She laid her dirty travel clothes on the floor next to the bed, unsure what to do with them. When she was buttoning up the placard of the bib-front, she saw a stack of books resting on one of the nightstands. Curious, she scanned the spines and noted several she’d already read, but most of them she’d heard of.

“Hmm,” she hummed in contentment.

She went to her case and found some hair pins, each decorated with a pearl on the end. She sat down at the vanity and easily arranged her hair into a twist on the back of her head, wisps of hair framing her face but much less disheveled from travel.

A knock sounded on her door.

“Pen? Are you ready?” Colin asked, his voice muffled by the thick wood.

She shuffled over and opened it up. “Yes!” she said brightly. “Just let me put on my shoes and we can go.”

She slipped on a pair of short heels and she took his arm as they made their way down to the foyer once more.

When they stepped outside, a large carriage and an additional two horses, haltered and held in place by footmen, awaited the group.

“Ah, there you are!” his mother greeted them warmly. “Come, let us get into the carriage.”

“Any other time of year and we might have walked,” Eloise came up to them. “Alas, it is far too cold for us feeble women.”

Penelope stood next to Colin confused for a moment. He leaned down to place a quick kiss on her cheek. “I’ll see you there,” he said, parting from her and taking the reins of one of the horses, easily hopping into the saddle.

“You’re riding there?” she puzzled.

“It won’t be long, I promise,” he reassured her.

“Here, Pen, you can sit with me,” Eloise gestured inside the carriage. The other women were already settled inside.

“I suppose I can,” Penelope resigned. With the help of a footman taking her hand, she carefully crawled inside.

“There’s so many of us that we have two carriages, but there’s no use readying the other one if it’s only Greg and Colin inside,” Violet explained. “They usually ride over to Anthony’s anyway, since it’s not exactly far.”

“I see,” Penelope mused as she settled herself on the bench next to Eloise. “So many logistics to consider with a large family that I would have never thought of.”

The group of women made polite conversation on the ride there, inquiring about the pleasantness of Penelope’s journey from Italy and the weather on her trip compared to cold, dreary England. Nothing of any significance but talking with all of them did set her mind at ease. They all seemed perfectly amiable and truly wished to know more about her, which was a great comfort.

The carriage pulled up to another grand house, stopping slowly. As the footman opened the door for them, a couple stepped outside, the woman holding a baby in her arms and the man holding the hand of a toddler, no more than three.

“Hello, Anthony, Kate!” Violet greeted, the first out of the carriage. “And hello, my beautiful grandchildren!” she stooped down to place kisses on the face of the older child, a bright smile on his face.

Everyone took their greetings in turn as they left. Penelope was the last, and she saw Colin quickly hop off his horse, hand the reins over, and rush over to her so he could be the one to take her hand as she stepped out.

She gave him one last scared look, and he kept holding her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. They made their way over to the others.

“Brother, I would like to introduce you to my fiancé.”

The man gave her a quick look up and down before smiling warmly.

“Of course, you must be Penelope,” he said, bowing slightly. “I’m Anthony. It is so wonderful to finally meet you.”

“And you as well,” Penelope greeted back, smiling and trying to keep her nervousness from her voice.

“I’m Kate,” the woman introduced herself. “We are so excited to get to know you better.”

“I feel as though I know you already, with how much Colin’s told me,” she replied.

“All good things, I hope?” Anthony looked at Colin.

“How could there be anything but,” Colin smirked before turning his attention to his nephews. “My, I’m always surprised at how much they grow while I’m away.”

“They do grow fast,” Kate agreed. “Oh, Penelope,” she added, “this is Edmund,” she gestured to the small toddler, “and this is baby Miles.” The child in her arms looked to be less than a year old, but not quite a newborn anymore, with wide curious eyes and a giggling laugh as Penelope smiled at him.

“Hello sweet boy,” she said, offering him a finger which he promptly took and squeezed with his small hand. “A pleasure to meet you.”

“They won’t be staying for dinner, but Edmund wished to meet his future aunt,” Kate explained.

“I’m so glad,” Penelope beamed down at him, now hiding a little behind his mother’s skirts. “I’ve heard about you; I will be glad to get to know you better.”

“Why don’t we make our way inside, out of the cold,” Anthony suggested.

The inside of the house was just as immaculate as the outside, all white walls and pristine floors, hothouse flowers overflowing from vases and pots.

Kate and Anthony passed the children off to a waiting nurse with kisses and promises to tell them goodnight after dinner. Penelope followed Colin’s lead down a hallway to what she assumed would be a sitting room, but Kate caught up to them.

“Penelope! Let’s talk,” she said, taking her arm gently. When Colin didn’t leave, she added, “In private.”

“I’ll see you in the sitting room, Colin,” Penelope assured him, her heart already pounding with nerves. With one more squeeze of her hand, they parted.

“He’s quite attached to you,” Kate started. They walked toward the others, but more slowly, hanging back slightly.

“Yes, he is,” Penelope smiled slightly. “That’s not to say I have no affection for him at all, of course.”

“Of course, naturally,” Kate laughed. “Colin’s told us quite a few things about you and your history in his letter,” Kate moved closer to her ear. “Including your secret.”

Penelope stiffened.

“There’s no need to worry. Not having a dowry is no problem at all. Benedict’s wife Sophie was a maid, and had some—interesting family dynamics, so you’re already far less scandalous than her.”

She exhaled.

They don’t know.

Yet.

“Thank you, Lady Bridgerton,” Penelope smiled.

“Oh, please, call me Kate. No need to be so polite with family,” she offered. “I thought I should apologize in advance for the excessive questioning you’re about to experience from my husband.”

“Oh?”

“He likes to thoroughly ‘test’ all of the future in-laws. It’s funny he thinks he has a say, when really,” she leaned down to whisper, “I’m the one with the real power.”

Penelope giggled. “I see. I’ll do my best to impress you tonight.”

“There’s no need. As soon as you walked through the door, I saw Colin was absolutely smitten by you. I don’t think there’s anything I could do to separate the two of you,” she led them into a cozy drawing room, a fire blazing and the others already sitting down on the couches. “I just wanted to reassure you that you are very, very welcome here in our family.”

“Ah! Pen, here, I’ve saved you a seat while we wait for them to call us to dinner,” Colin called her over and patted the spot next to him on the loveseat.

“See what I mean,” Kate uttered, and Penelope couldn’t help but laugh.

“Thank you, Colin.”

Penelope held his hand as she tried to shed her nerves and get comfortable.

“You alright? I hope the carriage ride wasn’t too much for you,” Colin inquired.

“No, not at all. Your family seems…wonderful, really. They all asked after my journey and assured me if I needed anything they would do their best to help. I believe I’m to have some dress fittings before the wedding.”

“My mother usually insists on proper wedding attire, no matter how sudden the wedding might come up—"

“So, Miss Penelope,” Anthony started suddenly, calling her attention to his seat on the couch across from them, “you grew up in Italy?”

“I…I did, yes,” she hesitated, trying to remember the fake history Colin gave her. “My family is English, but my father liked to travel. We settled in Portofino when I was a teenager.”

“Interesting. You must speak Italian quite well then?”

“I do, along with French, Spanish, Greek, Portuguese, and Dutch…”

As she listed the languages, she watched the faces of the Bridgertons turn from polite to surprised to shocked. Colin stiffened a little beside her.

Are seven languages really a lot?

“Fluently?” Eloise quizzed.

“Mostly. I’m afraid my Dutch and Greek are out of practice, as I haven’t had much use for them in a few years.”

“Strange there was a need for all the others,” she heard Hyacinth mumble before Kate must have given her a kick to the shin.

“Is there a reason your parents thought to have you tutored in languages so extensively? I’m sure English and Italian would have sufficed for you.” Violet asked.

“With traveling and meeting so many foreigners in a port town, they thought it wise. I picked up on them quite easily,” Penelope attested.

“Clearly,” Eloise muttered.

It wasn’t exactly a lie. She did travel a lot growing up, speaking with all sorts of people and learning their speech with ease, but it was not exactly land travel.

“Do you play any instruments?” Anthony asked.

This must be the beginning of the endless questions Kate mentioned earlier.

“Only pianoforte, I’m afraid, though my voice, I’ve been told, is quite nice,” Penelope smiled. Colin shot her a look.

Christ Almighty, did she really just bring up her mermaid voice? His heart started to pound in his chest, the blood roaring in his ears. The seven languages could be written off as a product of an eccentric childhood, but if they heard her sing…

“We’ll have to hear you two duet sometime,” Francesca suggested. “Colin is a fine singer.”

“Are you?” she turned to him. “I didn’t know that.”

He froze. She had to have heard him sing, right? “Yes, well, I don’t—talk about it, much. Not much occasion to sing on a ship, I’m afraid.” Colin stammered.

“What do you mean Colin? You walk about singing shanties at home all the time—” Hyacinth started.

“Gregory, perhaps Penelope might help you with your Greek. That’s what you were learning when I saw you last, yes?” Colin interrupted her.

“That would be lovely, Miss Penelope, if you would be so obliging,” the young man smiled at her. “I’ll admit I am not the best with languages.”

“I’m sorry to say I’m an awful tutor,” Penelope admitted. “I once tried to teach my younger sister French, but it ended in her confusing poisson and poison in front of a merchant when she was trying to buy some fish when we were in Marseille.”

She heard Francesca chuckle behind her.

“That is…unfortunate,” Kate stuttered.

“Sister?” Anthony questioned. “Do you have more siblings?”

“I—I do, two older sisters and one younger,” Penelope answered. She thought of Felicity, and her heart hurt a little.

“Interesting. Colin never mentioned them. We should love to host them at some time, should they wish to come back to England,” Anthony offered.

“I doubt they would like to,” Penelope said bitterly. “We didn’t exactly part on good terms.”

“Yes, Colin did mention that there was some…tension, regarding your upcoming nuptials. Your mother in particular is not very happy?” he asked.

“No. She was not happy at all,” Penelope disclosed.

“And your father…?”

“He is…no longer with us,” she said carefully.

“Oh…I’m so sorry,” Anthony empathized.

The room was silent for a moment, everyone digesting this information. Penelope stiffened at the interruption of the flow of conversation, but she looked to Colin for reassurance and found his kind face already staring at her, and he gave her a small smile and squeezed her hand.

It was Hyacinth who broke the tension. “If you sing, Miss Penelope, do you also dance?” she inquired. “I’m not out in society yet, but during the season there are so many balls to attend! I can’t wait until I can go too!”

“Ah…” Penelope hesitated.

She did not dance.

Shit.

“I’m afraid I’ve never had the opportunity to learn while I was in Portofino,” she explained. “I don’t think I’ll know any of the dances at your balls.”

“I can help you, my dear,” Colin promised. “I’m quite good at dancing. I’ll have you doing a quadrille in no time.”

A bell rang suddenly, and a footman appeared at the door. “Dinner is served.”

The group shuffled into the dining room, and Penelope panicked for a moment, not sure where she would sit. Everyone else seemed like they had their own assigned seats, she should just take the open chair—

“Here, Pen,” Colin pulled out a seat for her, and Penelope started to make her way over but was stopped.

“Colin, you know better,” Violet glared at him before turning to Penelope with a smile, gesturing to the chair between her and Anthony. “Come, sit here between us. We like to put our guests next to the head of the table.”

“Oh, thank you,” she said, taking her seat.  

All the better to observe me, most likely.

Dinner was already on the table, each dish passed around between them. It was all delightful, Penelope noted, not overly lavish but filling and tasty. She took healthy servings of everything and tried to not feel self-conscious as everyone watched her from the corners of their eyes out of curiosity more than malice.

“Everything is delicious, Kate,” she spoke to the woman sitting across from her.

“I’ll pass along your compliments to our cook,” Kate replied. “Perhaps she’ll have a recommendation of someone you might hire for your own household.”

“I—yes, that would be…nice,” Penelope fell over her words. She hadn’t given it much thought, but she supposed she would have to hire people to manage a household.

She would also have to hire maids, footmen, a butler, a driver…

“If I remember from Colin’s letters, you like to read quite a bit, yes?” Violet said, interrupting her racing thoughts.

“Oh yes, I adore reading. I loved to hide away from my mother and consume whatever books I could acquire,” Penelope described. She spent much of her time in the Mediterranean hiding books so she could read them later, and countless hours on the island in the Bay of Biscay drying out waterlogged novels on the off chance they were still readable.

“Why would you have to hide from her if you were only reading?” Hyacinth interjected, her voice cutting across the other conversations from down the table. Eloise met Penelope’s gaze with an eyebrow crooked in recognition.

The implication was, she supposed, that what she read was not at all appropriate.

She did read mostly romance novels, but that was beside the point.

“Oh, my mother had some notion that reading frivolously would poison a young lady’s mind. She thought it was best for me to keep my head below—ahem, pardon me—above water, and not indulge in fantasies.”

I really must pay attention to my choice of wording.

“Well, that does sound very sensible—” Anthony started.

“Penelope, I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve taken the liberty of putting some of my favorites in your room back at Number Five,” Eloise exclaimed before he could finish, clearly having some experience with his opinions on frivolous reading. “You must let me know if you’ve already read any of them, so we can discuss their finer points.”

“I was wondering who put those novels in there,” Penelope smiled at her gratefully. “Thank you, I do believe I’ve read a few of them already.”

“Excellent! Then perhaps tomorrow—”

“Penelope is to go for her wedding dress fitting, Eloise. You are welcome to join us, of course,” Violet explained.

“Ugh,” Eloise groaned, “I’ve been to so many wedding fittings already these past weeks, I don’t know if I could endure—”

“Who else is getting married that you’ve gone to wedding fittings?” Colin asked, baffled.

“Why, Francesca, of course,” Eloise replied. “You did know she is engaged to be married as well?”

“No, I—I hadn’t. I knew you were courting but—” Colin said, turning to her, just now noting the engagement ring on her finger. “Congratulations. When is the wedding?”

“In March,” she replied quietly. “Then I’m to go to Scotland.”

“Scotland, good God!” Colin exclaimed.

“Colin, language!” Violet hushed him.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “It’s a habit.”

“Unlike every other member of this family,” Anthony interrupted, “Francesca has no need of a special license.”

Colin rolled his eyes and continued. “That’s so far, I’ll hardly see you anymore,” he lamented.

“If you’re to get married, surely you’ll stay here, in England,” Kate stated. “You’ll see her far more often living in London than galivanting around the seas.”

“I—yes, that is the plan, isn’t it?” he turned to Penelope. “I’ve been offered a place in the offices, in light of our engagement, so we’ll be staying here once I find a house in town. I confirmed everything this morning at the docks.”

“Yes, I know that,” she said. She was slightly disappointed with what she’d seen of the city so far, but perhaps she would grow to love it with her husband.

“It will be so wonderful to have you back,” Violet said. “I so miss you when you are gone. It will be such a joy to have you only a carriage ride away.”

“It will certainly be a—change for me,” Colin said.

“I don’t know if I’ve seen more than a few days of you at a time these past nine years. Why, you were only nineteen when—” Violet started to ramble.

“Speaking of not knowing things,” Anthony interrupted, wiping his mouth on his napkin. “Miss Penelope, I’m afraid when I applied for the special marriage license on Colin’s behalf, I was unable to provide them with your surname, as Colin suspiciously left it out of his letters.”

Colin’s eyes went wide.

Shit.

Shit shit fuck shit goddamn fuck shit

Do mermaids have fucking surnames?

“Oh, my—my surname?” Penelope kept a pleasant smile, though her insides were rolling rapidly, the soup she was eating threatening to come up again. “So silly, Colin, how did you miss telling them?”

“I must have left it out,” he muttered, trying to think.

“Well, it’s quite easy, it’s—” she coughed to cover her pause, turning words over in her mind. The centerpiece of the table was mostly of flowers, but a few fluffy white feathers stuck out from it as accents. “Ah-hem. Pardon me. It’s Feather—ing—ton. Featherington. I am Penelope Featherington.”

Anthony stared at her for a few pregnant moments. “An interesting name, not sure I’ve ever heard that one before—”

“Yes, quite uncommon, isn’t it?” Colin interjected, then changed the subject. “Are there any leads on a house for us after we’ve wed?”

“Ah, yes! We can discuss it after dinner in my office, I can show you the listings I’ve found…”

The rest of dinner and dessert were entirely uneventful after Penelope avoided a complete catastrophe mostly unscathed. She sat with the rest of the Bridgertons in the sitting room once more for a few minutes while Colin and Anthony discussed their future home. She did believe she would be fast friends with his sister Eloise, just as Colin predicted, finding each other to have much in common. When he returned, Colin found the two sitting next to each other discussing some book they’d both read.

“I hope you aren’t boring her with your talk of novels, El,” he said, standing in front of the pair.

“Not at all, Colin,” Penelope assured. “We’ve been having a wonderful discussion of Sense and Sensibility—”

“Colin! Why don’t you and Penelope perform a duet together?” his mother interrupted. “She can play and sing, and you can accompany her.”

“Oh, yes, we should so love to hear you sing, Penelope,” Kate agreed.

“We’ve not ever sung together before, I don’t think—” Colin started.

“Well, why can’t we hear Penelope then? She can play and sing!” Hyacinth excitedly suggested.

“Al—alright, I suppose…” Penelope hesitantly agreed. Colin’s eyes went wide as she stood up.

“Here, let me set out some music…” Kate went over to the pianoforte in the corner of the room.

Colin tried not to panic. All he could think about was how bewitching she sounded when they were on the ocean together, and if she sounded like that here, in his brother’s sitting room, there would be far too many questions. He trusted she could tone it down, but God, he was nervous. There must be an off switch, right?

Penelope counted down in her head, and the room fell silent before filling with beautiful music.

Her voice was clear, bright, and not quite magical, but close. She held back, he knew, but there was still something ethereal about her, the clear sound bouncing around their ears, notes floating over their heads. She seemed to lose herself in the music, a simple country tune he doubted she’d played before but still hit each note perfectly. He looked to his family’s faces, and they were all transfixed by the woman.

Before long the music ended, and everyone clapped vigorously. Penelope shyly smiled and shut the lid to the keys before getting up from the bench and taking a little bow with a laugh.

“That was spectacular!” Hyacinth exclaimed.

“Yes, that was wonderful, Penelope. You play so well, and your voice is beautiful,” Francesca complimented her.

Penelope wasn’t sure how to take their praises, so she simply thanked them and sat down next to Colin again.

The conversation came easily between the siblings, and Penelope found it difficult to find a place to add her own remarks. She found she mostly stayed quiet for the remainder of the evening, just observing their stories, and getting a feeling for their personalities. Colin gave her accurate depictions as it turns out: Eloise was loud and unafraid to say what came first to her mind, Francesca was quiet but calm, Gregory and Hyacinth feeding off each other all evening, and Anthony trying to control the chaos but ultimately failing.

Before long, the hour drew very late, Penelope nearly falling asleep in her seat. As she struggled to keep her eyes open, Violet took note.

“I think it is time for us to go,” she announced. “Colin and Penelope traveled so far to get here, and I’m sure they would like to retire for the evening.”

“Thank you, mother,” Colin said gratefully.

The group made their way slowly to the front door, giving the servants time to ready the carriage and horses. Colin’s hand found its way into Penelope’s once again, and as they walked down the hall, Anthony caught up with them.

“Anthony! Did you need something else?” Colin asked, perhaps with a little more bite than intended because of his exhaustion.

“No, only to remind you I’ll be around Number Five tomorrow to further discuss your housing. I also wished to speak with Miss Featherington for a moment before you go.”

Penelope paused, afraid of what he might have to say after his thorough questioning this evening. She looked up at his face to find it open and calm.

“You seem to be very well educated, Miss Featherington, despite your odd upbringing.”

“Really, Anthony?” Colin warned.

“What?” he said. “It is true. She also seems a great wit, and well-spoken, and like she is a match for your intelligence and kind nature.”

“I—thank you, Anthony,” Penelope shyly responded.

“I merely wished to welcome you into the family,” he smiled at her. “Not that Colin needs it, but I fully approve.”

“Thank you, brother,” Colin pretended to be annoyed, but Penelope could tell by his voice that he seemed a little relieved. “And thank you for your help with a house. I doubt it would have been done as quickly or efficiently without your assistance.”

“Anything to help you settle down, Colin,” he sincerely replied. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

~

The ride back was relatively quiet, all of the women quite tired from a long evening. Penelope felt like her feet were made of lead as she stepped out of the carriage, her eyes heavy and her body longing for a soft bed.

Colin met up with her inside at the top of the stairs, pulling her to his side so he could hiss in her ear.

“Featherington, Penelope, really?”

“It’s all I could come up with at the moment!” she muttered.

“You don’t have a fake surname you used before?”

“I’ve never needed one! It’s not like I must sign forms or get married every day, no one’s ever asked for it!”

“And you couldn’t think of anything better than Featherington?”

“It’s not like you could think of something better. We were eating turtle soup at the time, I could have been Miss Turtleton had you spoken up!” she jibed.

“I like to think I’m a bit of a quicker wit than that!”

“Not bloody likely when there’s a bowl of soup in front of you!”

“And why didn’t you tell me you can’t dance?” he chided.

“Why didn’t you tell me you sang, Colin?” she asked.

“I guess it—it never came up,” he replied quickly.

“One might think of such a thing since you are in love with a mermaid!” she hissed.

“I suppose I forgot!”

“Well, then I suppose I forgot I couldn’t dance! Not something you think about when you’ve spent most of your life without feet!”

The two of them stared crossly at each other for a moment, before Colin sighed.

“I’m sorry, Pen. I thought I’d prepared everything; I can’t believe didn’t think of a surname—”

“It’s alright, Colin. It’s not like we’ve ever done this before. Something was bound to slip through the cracks.”

“Pretty stupid of us both, huh?”

She giggled. “Quite.”

“Hey!”

Eloise rounded the corner quickly, and both huffed. She stopped in front of them.

“Hello, El.”

“I’ve been tasked with ensuring that you two end up in separate rooms tonight,” she explained.

“Of course, you have,” Colin groaned. The three of them stood there, unsure how to proceed.

“Well? I would like to go to bed,” Eloise nagged.

They both looked dejected, Colin letting out a dramatic sigh.

“See you tomorrow?” she asked hopefully.

“We’ll both be busy for a lot of the day, but I’ll do my best,” he said.

They leaned in to kiss out of habit but were stopped by a hand on each of their faces, blocking their lips from touching.

“Ah ah ah, no, I don’t think so,” Eloise took Penelope by the hand and pulled her back from her fiancé. “Not on my watch.”

“El, come on—” Colin started.

“No, absolutely not. Your room is—” she gestured down the very long hallway to the other side of the grand staircase, “all the way over there. Go.”

Colin sighed, resigned.

“Goodnight, my sweet Pen.”

“Goodnight, Colin,” Penelope laughed at both his saccharine farewell and the face his sister made at their affection.

~

At the East India Docks, a window was found broken. Inside, the offices were completely ransacked, papers strewn everywhere, mixed in with shards of glass.

A man rifled through piles of inventory documents, ship registers, and employment histories, looking for something in particular.

“Ah,” he mused, “this is it.”

He read and memorized all he could. There were few words on this paper, a simple crew roster, but enough to give him the information he needed.

The Lady Whistledown came to port this morning. Her captain was retiring, and according to this sheet he returned with one extra person than he left with.

A young woman only listed as Penelope, age 23.

He had to tell Portia.

Chapter Text

The few days before their wedding were a whirlwind for the both of them. Penelope flew from dress fittings to picking out her bouquet to choosing staff to trying sleep a little at night. So many things were chosen for her already, but the last-minute decisions took up more time that she realized.

She did receive a recommendation for a cook through Kate’s, whom she promptly hired. She only had to mention her superior biscuits and she hired her on the spot for Colin’s sake. She also asked her for assistance in acquiring the rest of the employees required to run a small household, and after a day of interviews, she’d hired a housekeeper, ladies’ maid, scullery maid, carriage driver, butler, and a footman. She’d never thought it required so many to run a home, but she was assured by Violet that all were necessary parts to the whole.

She also had dance lessons, of all things. Each afternoon an instructor arrived for, as he described, “emergency sessions,” to try to teach her some of the basics needed for any ball. Unfortunately, she danced quite like someone who spent most of their life with a fishtail and found herself struggling to put her feet in the correct places. Poor Gregory’s toes suffered for two of these lessons before Colin managed to pencil in some time to help her on day three. Colin, of course, was an excellent dancer, gliding across the floor with her effortlessly despite her constant missteps.

“You’re already doing better, Pen,” he encouraged her. “Just remember to count in your head, if that helps.”

“I think it would be counting with the rhythm that helps…” she grumbled.

With so many new faces already, it surprised her to meet Benedict and Sophie after that lesson, the new couple coming to town for the celebration. Colin’s brother shared his easy smile and sense of humor, and Sophie hugged her immediately and welcomed her to their home anytime she liked. And just like that she was off to another fitting, this time to adjust her wedding corset and to fit her for a trousseau, whatever that was.

There was also the matter of who was walking her down the aisle. She had no father, nor a mother who was present, and when she suggested walking by herself it was deemed ‘too scandalous.’ Ultimately, Anthony volunteered his services as the head of the Bridgerton family and her future brother-in-law. She thought it was the most acceptable option, the only others being Benedict, who was largely absent until the previous evening, or Gregory with his endless enthusiasm to impress her.

Things moved so fast around her, and still, everyone was so, so kind.

It was only four full days between arriving in London and their wedding. Colin took over finding a home in town for them with Anthony’s help and said something about it being in Bloomsbury, and it was unfortunate, but it wasn’t so far to Bridgerton House and Number Five in Mayfair, but she didn’t quite understand. He assured her the house was large enough for their needs and required little to make it habitable, and that was enough for her.

She barely saw him, only in passing in the mornings and evenings, and for the one dance lesson. Eloise took her job of keeping them from finding any privacy quite seriously during the few moments they could find together, and even glared at them from across the room as they held hands on the settee after eating but before going to bed.

Penelope felt pulled in so many directions and far apart from the one person she knew would comfort her. It was difficult to sleep at night with so many thoughts flying through her mind, and still feeling as though she was just floating along with the current. Though she chose quite a few things, like her jewelry for her wedding and the flowers for her bouquet, nearly everything was already decided for her. She understood why everything had to be done quickly, but nothing felt like it was her own. Surrounded by unfamiliar people in a new city with a different culture and strange routines, it overwhelmed and exhausted her.

She wanted it to be over.

The morning of the day before her wedding was only slightly calmer. Colin rushed out the door with scarcely a hello, rambling about trying to get the furniture arranged in their new home.

“I have to make sure the pianoforte is delivered today, and the bedroom is ready for us, and the kitchen mentioned something about approving the food for the larder—”

“Will I see you at dinner?” Penelope asked hopefully.

“I’m sorry, Pen,” he took her hands. “I’m staying with Anthony and Kate tonight. It’s tradition here, since it’s considered bad luck to see the bride the night before the wedding.”

“Oh,” she replied sadly. “So, I won’t see you until we’re at the church?”

“Yes, and we’ll be only moments from becoming husband and wife,” he said, leaning in closer to whisper, “and then we can finally be alone together again.”

Penelope felt her face grow hot with a blush. “Oh.”

He quickly kissed her cheek, Eloise shouting hey! as he pulled away from her. “I’ll see you soon, Pen!”

She watched as he shuffled out the door and sighed.

~

While dining that evening in the parlor with Violet, Daphne (freshly arrived from Clyvedon), Eloise, Francesca, and Hyacinth, they discussed the rest of the plans leading up to the ceremony the next morning. Of the utmost import, she was told, was bathing.

“We’ll have the tub brought up for you, dear, and a maid can help with your hair and refill the hot water when you need it—” Violet kindly offered.

“No!” Penelope exclaimed suddenly, and far too loudly.

The other women stared at her, confused.

“I mean to say, I’m rather shy. I would prefer if I could do it myself, if that’s alright,” she quickly tried to cover her outburst.

“I guess that would be fine,” Violet said.

“Have you never had a maid before?” Daphne asked.

“No, my family couldn’t afford one. Usually, I bathed with my sisters, and we took care of each other’s hair.”

Is that believable?

“I’m so sorry they couldn’t be here for you,” Francesca sympathized. “We would be happy to help—”

“No! That’s okay, I appreciate the offer, but it would feel—better to be by myself.”

So you all don’t lock me up.

“We’ll have the tub set up and the water boiled for you now, dearest, so it will be ready after we eat,” Violet said, gesturing for a maid and relaying to her the request.

“That’s very kind of you,” Penelope thanked her.

Crisis averted.

There was indeed a copper tub filled with hot water waiting for her in her room after dinner, along with a selection of soaps for her hair and body. She stripped down and climbed in, only settled for a moment before she felt her tail shift into place. The water was deep enough that she could fully submerge her body, so she dipped herself down and breathed in. Fresh water was certainly different than salt, but it rejuvenated and invigorated her all the same. It was perfumed with oils of rose and lilac, and she couldn’t help but wish that the smelly river that ran through the city was a bit cleaner. She did miss her tail; it was a piece of her, and one she could never really give up. If the only sources of water available to her for the rest of her life were to be warm baths and the nasty Thames, she might go a little wild after a while. Perhaps they might install a large pool in their new home.

She washed her hair with soap that smelled delightful, some beautiful mix of florals and citrus, and coated her whole body in moisturizing oils. She pulled an ivory comb into the water and pulled it through her tangled curls, taking care to not pull too hard. She soaked until the water grew cold, minutes or hours later, she didn’t know or care. However, when she decided it was time to get out, she found herself faced with quite a dilemma.

She had a tail and no way to remove herself from the tub without splashing water absolutely everywhere.

Oils also covered her entire body, making everything much more slippery as evidenced by her hand on the edge of the tub that could not find any steady purchase.

“Well, this is quite the predicament…” she mumbled to herself. “I guess I just have to…”

She tried to gracefully heft herself up and over to plop herself on the floor, but the combination of a slippery bathtub and oily skin proved to be disastrous. With a thud and an oof, her body flopped onto the floor, some of the glass bottles on her vanity rattling with the impact.

“Ow,” she rubbed the side of her tail where it caught the edge of the tub as she slid over the lip, the flesh burning in pain.

“Penelope?” someone called through the door. It sounded like Eloise.

Oh, shit.

“Are you alright? We heard a loud noise—”

“I’m fine, thank you,” she answered hurriedly. “I just slipped a little as I got out of the tub. Some water got on the floor.”

“Do you need help? I can come in—”

“No! Nope, I am perfectly fine, more surprised than anything else!” Penelope couldn’t do anything but lay on the floor, soaking wet with a tail, praying that Eloise wouldn’t take the initiative and come into the room.

“If you’re sure…I’ll be across the hall if you need anything.”

Penelope didn’t let out her breath until she heard Eloise’s door shut.

She lay there for Poseidon knows how long until her body dried enough, and her tail reverted back to legs. She got up and put on the soft chemise that someone laid out for her and called for the tub to be taken away. She sat at the vanity, braiding her long hair while they worked, and tried to keep her heart from hammering out of her chest.

Her nerves were aflutter, and not entirely in a good way. Colin was out of the house; she wanted nothing more than to see him and receive some reassurance, but it wasn’t an option.

It all felt so strange. She was to be a wife and run a household. Colin’s family, whom she’d only met days before, felt more welcoming and like home than her own blood ever did. She felt, for the lack of a better analogy, like a fish out of water, but she also felt happier than she’d ever been.

So why was she so anxious?

With the tub gone, she bid the maids goodnight and crawled into the cozy bed, the fireplace roaring across from her to keep away the chill.

She fell asleep slowly, quietly, drifting off into dreams of her husband, her future, her freedom.

~

The sun had not crested the horizon when she woke. Her eyes still heavy with sleep, an over-enthusiastic maid barged in, ready to arrange her hair. Everything blurred together, from the hairpins stabbing her scalp to various Bridgerton women storming in demanding to know when she would be ready for the dress. She felt a little numb from lack of sleep and racing thoughts, both too much going on all at once and not enough. She wanted to skip forward to later after all of this was over.

A small assortment of toast and jam, scones, and bacon sat on a table brought in to feed all her attendants and herself, but the thought of food only made her stomach turn. She did have some tea with quite a bit of sugar with the hope that it would prevent her from fainting.  

She told the maid she wanted her hair mostly down, which received a few looks from the other women but she obliged. Once completed, Penelope was instructed to put on a new chemise made of a very fine silk, embroidered with waves and seashells and trimmed in dainty lace, and cinched into her stays. Another maid helped her slip the dress over her hair and button up the back, roll on her stockings, and put on her shoes and other accessories.

“Are you ready, my dear?” Violet poked her head into the room.

“Just about, I only need the veil…”

“Oh! Let me, please!” she excitedly walked over, gently taking the layers of tulle out of her hands. She carefully, with the hands of a loving mother, inserted the comb just behind her tiara, and folded the front piece down over her face. “There. Beautiful,” she smiled.

“Thank you, Violet,” Penelope sighed.

“Are you ready, Penelope?” Violet questioned.

She took a deep breath. “Yes.”

I must be.

They went downstairs to find the rest of the family waiting for them.

“You look lovely!” Francesca exclaimed as she descended the stairs.

Penelope smiled and started to thank her but—

“Quickly! We’ve booked the church for 9 A.M. and you know they’re always busy,” Violet hurried them.

“On a Wednesday morning?” Eloise wondered as they all shuffled outside into the cold.

“Love and the clergy wait for no one!” Violet cheered and climbed into the carriage.

Eloise turned to Penelope as Francesca, Hyacinth, Gregory, Daphne, and Simon disappeared inside their own.

“You make a beautiful bride,” Eloise said sincerely.

“I—thank you, Eloise.”

“I’m usually not very fond of too much sentiment, but I think you and Colin are wonderful together. I’m glad he found you, and I can now call you a sister,” Eloise looked uncomfortable, but Penelope could tell she meant her words.

“I am too. If my own sisters can’t be here, I’m so happy to have you,” Penelope felt tears forming, but pushed them back.

She held her train in her hand as she got in, careful to prevent the silk from dragging on the dirty road.

They slowly made their way from Number Five to St. George’s Church, the traffic causing them to pause quite often. She rode with Eloise and Violet, both women doing their best to calm her nerves by explaining who would be there, but only succeeded in making her more nervous. It would be mostly family, but so many other weddings took place that day that others would certainly be hanging around. It was quite nerve-wracking, waiting to be paraded in front of the ton. She knew she looked beautiful and was marrying the love of her life and her best friend, but the thought of so many new eyes on her made her stomach turn. They all thought she was a prostitute; they had to if she showed up out of nowhere with a half-formed family history. She felt like she had no choice in the matter, in the church or the ceremony or the dress, like everything else there were plans set in stone long before she set foot in England.  

She wished she had more time to think, even for just a moment.

She almost wished her sisters were there.

They rolled up to the church, the road clogged with parked carriages. She spotted the other one used by the Bridgertons not far ahead, so Colin was already inside. Everyone climbed out and rushed away, their shoes clicking on the stones. Penelope could barely hear the other women as they squeezed her hands and went inside the chapel. Her breathing came faster as she stood there, alone but for two men waiting by the door.

She heard footsteps and a door squeak, and Anthony stepped into the corridor.

“Are you ready?” Anthony asked.

“As I’ll ever be. So many people are asking me that today,” she sighed. He picked up on her hesitation.

“Are you nervous?”

“Not about Colin, just…this has happened so fast. I didn’t pick this dress or this church, and there will be so many eyes on me...I want to do this, but I feel like I’ve had hardly any time to think for four days.”

“If I may reassure you,” he said as he offered her his arm, “there is only one set of eyes that matters in that room, and I am positive they won’t be able to look away from you. You look lovely, Penelope.”

“Thank you, Anthony,” she said, hooking her hand through his elbow and holding her bouquet of delicate snowdrops and pink lilies in her other.

She wore a white gown, as was traditional, but the fabric shimmered as she walked. She thought she looked like clean fallen snow, glittering in the morning light, and small pearls decorated the waistline and were scattered about the skirts. Her gloves went up past her elbows, and she wore quite a few pieces of jewelry: several jeweled bracelets, dangly earrings, and four necklaces, none of them matching or cohesive. She received a few looks when she picked out the pieces to wear from Violet, but she reassured her that Colin would absolutely approve. Her red hair tumbled down her back, her veil and tiara resting on two small braids drawn across the top of her head.

“And as for the other things,” he said, “I’m sorry that you feel…rushed. It’s unfortunately very normal for this family. We’ve never exactly had a normal wedding.”

“So I’ve heard,” she mumbled.

“Once this is over,” he said, “you can do whatever you like. Colin will make sure of that. Whatever is in your past can be…forgotten.”

He said that last sentence rather…ominously.

An organ began to play in the other room. Penelope’s breath caught, and all thoughts fell from her mind. “I think that’s my cue.”

She felt Anthony squeeze her arm as the doors swung open and everything else stopped.

Colin stood at the end of the aisle next to the rector. He looked up from the floor, his eyes finding hers and his entire countenance lighting up, a smile so wide spreading across his face it reached from ear to ear. She felt herself grin in return, and an overwhelming feeling of joy and contentment filled her soul. She couldn’t see anyone else in the pews, couldn’t feel the dress on her skin or the bouquet in her hands.

Only Colin mattered, standing there in his fine black suit, a gold waistcoat peeking through. He looked far more groomed than she’d ever seen, his hair combed and set in place, his face clean-shaven and his signature gold hoop missing from his ear. His crooked grin and little laugh as Benedict jostled him with a satisfactory nod at her appearance pulled her forward the last few feet until she could finally, finally, take his hand again.

Tears formed along her lashes, and try as she did they still fell onto her cheeks as Anthony handed her off. She could not take her eyes away from Colin, but she heard either Violet or Kate (perhaps both?) sniffle and sigh.

As they said their vows, repeating the words said by the rector, he could not take his eyes off her.

It was only minutes before they were pronounced man and wife, and they were married.

The next bride already waited as they rushed from the church to their waiting carriage. Colin helped her up inside and he hopped in gleefully after her, closing the door with a wave to his family outside. She laughed as he scooted over to her bench and kissed her silly, trying to devour her lips after starving for them for days.

“My wife,” he grumbled, “you are my wife, and I love you.”

“I love you too, Colin,” she giggled.

“We shouldn’t go further until we get home but—” he paused, planting one more kiss on her before pulling back and straightening his coat, “I couldn’t help myself.”

The carriage ride was not a long one from St. George’s to Bridgerton House, the only one of their homes large enough to host the sizeable wedding breakfast everyone planned. It wasn’t long before they arrived, stepping inside to quite the bustle, servants frantically shuffling around, carrying trays of pastries, drinks, and platters of food around the foyer and into the dining room. With a moment to breathe despite the rush around them, Colin pulled her into his side, and quietly took her in, his head in her hair. Penelope leaned in, relishing their last few calm moments before they had to part again.

“I’m so tired,” she said into his shirt, her eyes sliding close. He still smelled like the salty sea, even after so many days away, and it filled her with a peace she’d nearly forgotten.

“I know,” he soothed. “Once we’re done here, we can have two weeks entirely to ourselves, no interruptions or siblings or lack of privacy.”

Just behind them, the Bridgertons slowly filed out of their carriages, along with their other guests arriving after the ceremony for the wedding breakfast. Most of them averted their eyes at the newlywed’s display of affection, but Penelope definitely noticed their quiet smiles.

“I just want you to know,” Colin whispered as he continued to hold her hands, “that the only thing on my mind for the rest of the day will be taking you out of that dress as soon as possible.”

Penelope’s breath caught, and she looked away from the guests to see the fire burning in his eyes. Her pulse quickened, the exhaustion ebbing away slightly.

It would be a long, long afternoon.

She quickly gathered her wits, stuffing the burning heat down inside her for later as guests started to file in the door and greet them.

They were endless. Lady after Lord after Mr. and Mrs. and all of their children too, invited on their behalf by Kate or Violet Bridgerton to celebrate their wedding. So many eyes judging her movement, her speech, her appearance, and Penelope felt like she had to prove something, even though she didn’t quite know what.

Finally, the last of the carriages pulled away and the front doors shut. The couple turned to each other.

“Are you ready to head into the dining room?”

“I think so.”

“Kate knows how to throw quite the party. I think you’ll be happy with it.”

Do I even know how to throw a party? Penelope mused as he took her hand and pulled her through the large doors to a round of applause.

The room was covered in flowers, enough to fill an entire hothouse, everything from carnations, daisies, roses, and tulips, all in shades of yellow, pink, and white, mixed in with waterfalls of greenery spilling from the table centerpieces and flowerpots. Bright light streamed in through the white curtains, held open with a gold rope. The tables covered most of the floor, all with white tablecloths and elegant settings in front of each wood chair, a person occupying every seat. There was one table in particular, at the front of the room with only Bridgerton seated, that the couple knew was meant for them.

They took their seats and Penelope observed the platefuls of food taking up every inch of space unoccupied by place settings. The wedding breakfast was truly a feast fit for Colin Bridgerton, with dishes piled high with any food or pastry one could imagine having in the morning. There was, of course, the usual ham, eggs, buttered toast and bread, scones with jam and cream, and plentiful tea and coffee. In addition, because Colin Bridgerton would never do anything halfway when it came to a meal, there were eclairs, chocolates, biscuits, tea sandwiches, roast chicken, fried potatoes, croissants, and a selection of cheeses. To top it all off, a two-tiered wedding cake with fluffy white icing sat in the middle of the center table.

“This looks divine,” Penelope muttered to herself, Colin already piling both of their plates with eggs and ham.

“It probably is, if it’s Kate’s cook who made it,” he replied, placing a croissant on a napkin before passing the tray along.

Penelope tucked in, and everything tasted as close to heaven as one might get on Earth.

“Is everything satisfactory?”

Penelope turned to Kate, who sat next to her. “Yes, everything is wonderful. The food is delicious, and the room looks so pretty. Wherever did you get so many flowers in December?”

“Oh, the flowers themselves were not the big difficulty, it was the colors and types Colin requested. The daisies in particular were hard to source but—”

“Colin picked out the flowers?” she puzzled.

“Yes, he did. He didn’t want to bother you, what with your recent arrival and your own appointments these past days, he took quite a bit under his wing.”

“Oh,” Penelope looked down at her plate.

Did he not trust her to make the right choices? Did he think he knew her well enough to choose for her already?

Not that he didn’t pick well enough, but she could have done without the yellow, especially so close to Christmas—

“Are you unhappy with it? I thought you would have liked to have a little more say—”

“No! It’s all lovely. I’m so pleased. Thank you for allowing us the use of your home,” Penelope rushed. No use in complaining now, she thought.

“Of course,” Kate replied. “We are delighted to host your wedding breakfast, to welcome you into the family,” she said, and Penelope felt her hand take hers under the table.

“I feel…so welcome, indeed,” Penelope smiled.

The breakfast continued, the two women continuing to converse about Penelope’s new household she would have to run, and Colin speaking to Anthony about meeting later in the week to discuss…something, but Colin firmly told him he had no desire to leave his new wife until at least St. Stephen’s Day.

When the eating was mostly over, Colin stood up from his chair.

“If I can have everyone’s attention, please,” Colin started, clinking a fork on his glass to draw everyone’s eyes to him. “I would like to make a toast.”

Penelope looked up at him, her eyes worried, but he only smiled brightly before continuing.

“I never thought ten years ago when I decided to take up the profession of sailor and travel the world that I would find someone like Pen,” he said, sighing before he continued. “It was never in my plan to find a wife. I simply wanted adventure, fortune, and maybe a little fame.” The room chuckled at his admission. “I’m not afraid to admit that what I longed for more than anything was for my endeavors to be taken seriously. I didn’t want to play Captain, I wanted to be Captain Colin Bridgerton.” He took a deep breath, and found her eyes. “But when I saw Penelope, when I spoke to her and found her to be the kindest, smartest, warmest woman I’ve ever met, someone who always asked after me and my family and remembered my favorite foods and places to visit, I knew she had to be my wife. She saw beyond my job and my last name, and saw me for just…Colin,” he sighed. “I knew I had to spend the rest of my days at her side. I will be forever in her debt in more ways than one,” he smiled down at her with that line. “To my new wife, Penelope Bridgerton!”

“To Penelope Bridgerton!” the room cheered. Penelope took a small sip of champagne, shyly smiling at her husband.  

Bridgerton.

The hours passed quickly, filled with food and drink and love. So much love, much more than Penelope had ever felt before. It stunned her almost, so many well-wishes and congratulations and blessings, from people she didn’t even know.

It was late afternoon before they were pushed into yet another carriage to more cheering, this one their own, ready to take them to Bloomsbury where Colin told her he found the perfect home for their family.

“I’m sorry you haven’t been to see it yet, but we’ve been so busy—”

“I’m sure it’s lovely,” she assured him. “Have the staff set everything up?”

“Yes, it’s all there. You’re welcome to change whatever you want, of course, but I’ve put some of the things I’ve collected around…”

He held her hand and told her about everything he’d done in their home even though she was about to see it for herself. The chaos of the past few days prevented her from seeing it, but Colin assured her when he chose it the day after they’d arrived that everything was in order. He’d said as soon as he saw it, he knew it was to be theirs. It came with a large library, an office for him, a sitting room, a decently large dining room, servant’s quarters for their staff, and six bedrooms upstairs. She wasn’t quite sure they would need so many, but she supposed with so many siblings they would be host to many of them in the future.

“I had them put a desk for you in the library,” he explained. “I thought you would like your own space to read and write. I know it’s not an office, but I promise you’ll love it.”

“Are there already books in the library? Do you have so many?” she asked.

“Some are mine I’ve collected, but the previous owner left most of them behind. Most are not very exciting…” he paused. “I know you have a fondness for romance novels, but almost all of them are histories, unfortunately.”

“I should hardly think I’ll ever have a shortage of romance,” she laughed. “I will be happy to be surrounded by books of any sort, I can assure you.”

“We’re nearly there,” he peered out the carriage window. “That’s it, look!”

All the houses that lined each side of the street looked the same, red brick, white columns, large windows, and green front doors with brass knockers. They had small differences in flower choices or Christmas decorations lining the railing, but they mostly were indistinguishable from one another. They slowly came to a stop at the second door from the end, and a footman opened their carriage promptly. Colin hopped out first and took Penelope’s hand as she carefully navigated the small step and her wedding dress’s train down to the stone walkway.

“Oh, it’s lovely, Colin,” Penelope mused as she looked up at the building. It was three floors from what she could tell, with some stairs leading below ground to the servant’s entrance. Already she noted that their flowerpots that lined the steps held silk flowers: red roses and white lilies. Their postbox sat at the bottom of the steps, and the front door…

“Is that a—a mermaid door knocker?” she exclaimed.

Indeed, the brass mermaid sat right in the middle of the green door, her hair flowing wildly around her.

“I thought it was fitting,” he chuckled. “I told everyone it was because I wanted a little piece of the sea with me after so many years of working on it.”

Penelope rolled her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you, my love,” he grinned mischievously, “are beautiful.”

He swept her up in his arms, the train of her gown draping over his arm and dragging along the floor. Her arms wound around his neck, her smile so wide it hurt her cheeks, a laugh bubbling up from her heart. He walked up the steps, past the staff waiting to greet them at the door, and into the foyer.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Bridgerton.”

Mrs. Bridgerton.

She shared a surname with the man she loved most in the world, and the butterflies in her stomach did backflips at the thought. She could burst from joy, from happiness, from bliss.  

A woman cleared her throat.

“Ah!” Colin exclaimed, setting her down gently on her feet and turning around to face the open door again. “This is Mrs. Hughes, our new housekeeper.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Bridgerton,” the older woman curtsied.

Mrs. Bridgerton.

“And you as well. I look forward to working with you,” Penelope greeted her.

“And this is the rest of the staff,” Colin gestured widely in an arc. “We’ll be upstairs. Please send up a tray with some food in a few hours, if you would be so kind.”

“Colin—” she started, hoping for a more formal introduction to their employees but she shrieked as her feet left the floor again. This time, however, Colin picked her up around her waist and threw her over his shoulder, giving her a nice view of his bum. She laughed as he tromped up the stairs hurriedly, half-heartedly thrashing around.

“Please let us know if you or Mrs. Bridgerton need anything, sir!” she heard one of the other women call out behind them.

Mrs. Bridgerton.

“Am I even going to get a house tour?” she giggled. They’d made it to the top of the landing and he took a sharp right around the banister.

“We have all the time in the world for a house tour, but only one wedding night,” he bantered.

“I’m going to get lost on my way to the librar—oh!” she gasped as he kicked a door open and plopped her down on her feet.

“If I have anything to do with it,” he said darkly, “you won’t have the need of the library for a few days.”

“Oh?” she flirted.

“You’ll have enough in here to entertain you,” he growled and bent his knees to kiss her firmly.

She pulled back. “Is this our room, then?” she asked, taking a moment to observe.

It was beautiful, a four-poster bed decorated with dark blue linens dominating the space, a vanity in the corner, two wardrobes, and a case of books and trinkets that looked to be collected from all over the world. Only slivers of light came through the navy curtains, already drawn for privacy. A few candles in gold lamps sat on each nightstand and in the sconces on the walls, bathing them in a low glow. A fire blazed in the fireplace, taking the bite out of the cold December air filling the room. Plush rugs of all shades and patterns covered the wood floors, a patchwork of what Colin collected on his travels. Paintings adorned any empty spaces on the walls, their subjects anything from landscapes to still lifes to portraits of unknown origin.

“I hope you like it,” he said, a little hesitant. “You can change anything that doesn’t suit you. I just wanted our home to be mostly finished, so we could occupy it as soon as possible.”

“It’s wonderful, Colin,” she said, turning to him. “The colors are lovely. Are all of these things you’ve collected?”

“Yes, I’ve set aside so many things for years, and now I have a place to put them. I know they don’t all match but—”

“But you like them all,” Penelope said, “so now they are in our home.”

“Yes,” he breathed. “Our home.”

“It almost doesn’t feel real, does it?” she wondered.

“To me, it feels like the most real thing I’ve experienced in a long, long time,” he purred, stalking closer to her.

His hands wrapped around her hips, and she couldn’t help but marvel at how large they were even after so many weeks at sea together, feeling his hands on every inch of her body. She was not a thin person (or mermaid), and the fact that they seemed to engulf her sent a shiver down to her center. Her own hands went up to his arms, her small hands dwarfed by them, his biceps flexing under her touch as he smirked at her awed face. She rolled her eyes a little and slipped down his chest, taking the halves of his jacket in hand and pushing it off his broad shoulders. Her fingers started working the buttons on his waistcoat, making quick work of it even as his lips found the spot just behind her ear he knew she loved when he licked.

“Can you let me get you naked before you start trying to make my knees buckle?” she teased, the waistcoat finally falling from his arms and onto the floor.

“What if I wanted to get you naked first?” he retorted, just barely touching the back of her dress before she smacked his arm away.

“Hey,” she hummed, “I only get to wear this once. I want to keep it on for as long as I can.”

She heard a growl deep in his chest as she pulled his shirt from his trousers. He helped her to remove it, tossing it to the floor in fake anger, a stupid pout on his face. She laughed, and he couldn’t keep up the act as he pulled her into him again, her hands feeling his hot, bare skin.

She could scarcely reach him for a kiss when they were both standing up. She settled for his collarbone and chest, licking a hot trail from muscle to muscle and biting him, leaving red marks that she knew would purple within the hour.

“Fuck, Pen,” he swore, bringing her face up to his, peppering light kisses along her cheeks. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“That would be some tragedy worthy of Shakespeare. A new bride kills her husband by accident through seduction and…” she paused, thinking.

“And?” he pressed.

She smiled, blinking slowly, her lips parting in a slight pout before—

She kneeled.

“Pen, you—”

“I want you in my mouth right now.”

She confidently found the buttons to his trousers and undid the placket. She didn’t bother pushing them down or removing his small clothes, simply fishing around inside them for what she wanted.

(It’s not as though his raging erection was hiding.)

He was red hot, his skin flaming and covering the hard length like velvet over steel. He could feel her breath on him and he caught a whimper in his throat.

“So big,” he heard her mumble just before she sucked his entire member into her mouth and down her throat, no preparation or preamble.

His fingers gripped into her hair as she worked at him, her large eyes looking up at him through her lashes. Her veil was still in her hair, as was her tiara, and he wanted nothing more than to toss them across the room so he could pull her up and down on his cock but he didn’t trust his hands to do it gently enough at that moment.

A sleeve of her low-cut gown slipped down her shoulder in her vigorous sucking and licking, revealing her creamy and lightly-freckled shoulder. He felt her skin, warm and soft to the touch, his hand creeping up around her neck and his fingers winding into the bottom of her hair. Her own hands gripped his hips, pulling at the fabric in time with her mouth. She took him so deep in her throat each time with no hesitation, her tongue caressing the underside of his member with each stroke. It wouldn’t be long, with her blue eyes and her warm heat and that little moan she did when she paused to hold him and suck him down…

“Pen, I want to—shit—”

He pulled out but realized too late he was past the point of no return. She held onto him with one hand as spit dripped from her lips at the sudden loss of his length and continued to pump up and down, watching him as he came all over her face and her bosom, choked groans spilling from him with each spurt. His eyes closed and his mouth hung wide open, a tension in his jaw as he breathed deep in his chest, hot ropes of his essence falling on her cheeks, her lips, her shoulders, her chest. It amazed her, just how much came out of him, and how his face slowly relaxed with the quieting of his groans.

His eyes snapped open to see his wife covered in…well, him.

“Oh, Pen,” he started to apologize, “I didn’t mean—I should’ve—”

He stopped when he saw her tongue slip out from between her lips to taste him.

“Mmmm,” she hummed. “That’s interesting.”

His mind blanked. She had his seed all over her face, her skin, down her neck, some on her dress—

“Your dress!” he stupidly exclaimed.

“I doubt I’m going to wear a wedding dress more than once,” she purred. “If it gets a little dirty, it’s no real loss.”

“I—oh, Pen,” he sighed. “You’ll have to give me a moment. I didn’t want to finish yet…” he pulled her up to her feet, wiping away some of the mess with his fingers. “On our wedding night, of all nights, I have to act like a green boy.”

“You’ll find something to occupy yourself in the meantime,” she tangled her hands in his hair, pulling him down for a kiss. He could taste himself on her lips, a musky salty tang, and he inhaled sharply, wrapping his hands around her waist. He held her close, not caring about the potential stain he would make on his nice trousers, or the feel of his own essence on his skin. Blood roared in his ears, an all-consuming wildness taking over his actions. He found the buttons on the back of her dress and easily undid them one-handed, her corset still obstructing his goal of her bare skin.

“Oh, will I? I think I might be rather bored,” he teased, giving up on the corset and scrunching the skirts of her dress up in his hands, revealing her legs inch by inch.

“Rather bored? We’ve only just been married, I should think that—oooh,” she cut off her sentence with a moan at the feeling of his fingers gripping her thighs, one hand slipping between her legs to find her center already dripping wet.

“If I know anything about you, Mrs. Bridgerton, it is that you will never allow my life to be dull.”

Mrs. Bridgerton.

~

The man watched as they got into their carriage in front of a church in Mayfair.

He watched when they, and all of their guests, filed inside a grand house he thought belonged to Viscount Bridgerton.

Hours later, he watched as they again climbed into a carriage and sped off. He followed it until it stopped in front of a home in Bloomsbury, and the couple got out. He carried her inside, laughing.

He could only assume this was the final stop based on their giddiness, their uninhibited joy.

He took note of the address and left, his task still unfinished.

Too many people around the streets. Too many guests at the party. Too many staff inside the house.

As he made his way through the streets, he drew no stares. He looked innocuous, blending in with the local population.

Just an inoffensive man, out for a promenade.

At the bank of the Thames, no one noticed as he stepped into the river, completely disappearing with only a splash.

He had no need to come up for air.

~

Two days later, he returned to his pod. Portia and her three other girls rushed to meet him.

“I’ve found their house, Portia,” he told her.

Portia sighed in relief, and her other daughters laughed and smiled amongst themselves. “Are they still in London?”

“Yes, but…” he paused, thinking about his choice of words.

“But what? Out with it!” she frantically pressed him for more.

“She’s married him.” He looked dejected. “I wanted to intervene, but there were so many of them there…”

Portia brushed him off. “Well, human marriages have never meant much to us before, have they?” The look on her face told him the cogs were already turning, a plan forming in her mind.

“Do you mean to—”

“She’s my daughter. I’m taking her back,” she stated firmly.

“And you’ll keep your promise to me?” he questioned. “I won’t uphold my end of the deal if—"

Portia whipped around to face him, her auburn hair swirling around her.

“Nimrod Fife, she will marry you if I have to chain her down here for the rest of her days.”

Chapter Text

Penelope awoke, as she had for the previous four months, naked in her bed next to her husband, his hands roving her stomach.

“G’morning,” she mumbled, snuggling into his chest behind her.

“Good, indeed,” he huffed against her neck.

“Don’t you need to be in the office today?”

He groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

“You shouldn’t be late.”

“What will they do, fire me?”

“I hope your position there is as infallible as you think, based on how often you are late going in.”

“How can they expect me to be on time, when I wake up to a beautiful siren in my bed every morning?” he purred, kissing her neck.

“Because you are a grown man with a job who needs to make money,” she chided, turning over to face him. “It’s not like I won’t be here when you come home.”

“I know, I know,” he said.

“If you’re good today, maybe I’ll tell the cook to make some of those butter biscuits you like.”

“You do that anyway,” he laughed.

She smacked him lightly as she hopped out of bed. “Come on, rise and shine. The day awaits!”

She slipped on her dressing gown and moved into ‘her’ bedroom to greet her waiting maid. The bed remained completely unslept in, and she only used it to prepare for the day and undress at night. The staff giggled behind their hands at their willingness to share a bed, but Penelope didn’t care.

So strange, even now, that she had a maid to help her dress. Strange that she was alone for the first time in her life. Strange that she could eat cake all day, wear whatever odd combination of jewels she wanted, go nearly wherever she liked, and no one questioned it.

She discovered so many things about living in a huge city like London. There was etiquette she had to follow, rules she had to learn, gossip she had to keep up with. Not that she hadn’t been to a large city, but it was quite different from Marseille, Rome, or Athens, with a completely different culture. She didn’t always understand or remember certain things, but now, months into living in Bloomsbury, she felt comfortable. She still hated the smelly river and the rain (which she could not go out in, she discovered one evening when Colin tried to take her to the opera but her tail shifted into place once in the carriage because the rain was too heavy), but she loved Colin and his family and going to the market and buying new jewelry and reading all of the books in the library and being free for the first time in her life.

She enjoyed discovering new things about her husband as well. She thought she knew him well enough when she decided to escape with him, but there was still something new every day. She learned of his undiscerning love of food, the way he snored a little when he slept on his back, how he preferred his cravat to be tied because he couldn’t stand it when it was too tight around his neck. He learned that she was a morning person, she hated the smell of his dirty sailor coat, and that her handwriting was absolutely, entirely, atrocious.

She recalled a rather embarrassing conversation from quite early in her marriage she had with Colin. He requested that she write a list of things for a dinner party she was planning, and upon his review of the note, he rushed to find her in the library, sitting before the fire with a book.  

“Pen, I received the list you left me for the cook, but…” he paused, trying to find the right words so he didn’t hurt her feelings too much.

“But what?”

“I could scarcely decipher it,” he said.

Penelope looked confused. “I thought I was fairly clear in the wording…”

“It’s not the wording that’s the issue,” he hesitated, before blurting out, “it’s your penmanship.”

“Is it really that bad?” she asked, incredulous.

“If I didn’t know you wrote this, I would guess this was written by a child in leading strings.”

“Oh,” she said solemnly. “I didn’t learn until I was 16, and I was taught by a Greek man who could barely write himself.”

“A Greek man?”

“Yes, we…had something of a relationship for a time, and he wanted us to send notes to each other when we wanted to meet. I wrote exclusively in the Greek alphabet for two years until we moved along to Italy.”

Colin tried to backtrack. “It’s alright, Pen. It is a little funny considering your nickname is a writing implement, don’t you think?” he smiled, trying to add some levity to the situation but immediately regretted it when he saw the dejected look on her face.  

“But I can’t write! How am I supposed to pen invites to balls or dinners or outings or—”

“We can have a maid do it, that’s common enough,” he soothed. “And we can have you practice. I can have Eloise help you, she won’t mind, she writes all the time.”

After a few lessons with Eloise, she could form legible sentences. She still didn’t feel comfortable writing anything that would be seen beyond family, but most of the Bridgertons could decipher her scrawl. Slowly but surely, she was learning a certain elegance that seemed required of all ladies.

The dinner party also went off without a hitch, and she received a sterling review from Lady Danbury, who she quickly learned was a very harsh critic.

Shaking herself back into the present once her maid finished arranging her hair into a beautiful coiled chignon on the back of her head, she emerged from her morning routine and traversed the stairs to find her husband already tucking into breakfast in the dining room, a full spread laid out for just the two of them.

“What are your plans for today?” Colin asked, as he always did each morning, his mouth impolitely full of scone crumbs.

“I think I’ll send a note to Eloise asking if she wants to go out shopping. I have some items to pick up from the cobbler, and I think I need a new quill.” Penelope filled her plate with a modest amount of eggs, ham, and bread, and took the seat next to him.

Colin brightened at the idea of his sister and his wife spending more time together, more of his crumbs tumbling from his lips and onto his jacket and napkin.

“That sounds wonderful. Invite her to dinner, if you like. We usually have enough for one extra.”

“We should have enough to feed a family of five, but you have enough appetite for three grown men,” she laughed. “I’ll extend the offer.”

“Good,” he said, brushing himself off. “I should be home on time today. Not too much to do, I think, unless there was a catastrophe since last evening.”

“I look forward to your return,” she purred, taking a very seductive bite of eggs.

“You make it quite hard to control myself when you use that voice,” he peered at her.

“What voice?” she smirked.

“Minx,” he mumbled under his breath, smiling into his next bite of scone.

“Anything interesting planned at work today?” she made conversation.

“Not at all. Same old boring day, most likely,” he said, his tone a little melancholy.

“Boring is better than chaotic, is it not?” she suggested.

“I—well, I suppose it is,” he agreed.

Penelope knew Colin felt restless at home. She couldn’t blame him; after spending so many years at sea, traveling the world, meeting new people every day, hardly finding time to sleep with the endless amount of work, he could not hold still. They both still felt a little bit out of place in society, but were making an effort to try.

“And you’ll always have me to come home to now,” she smiled.

“That I do,” he said, taking her free hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

They finished their food in between their conversation, and Colin put on his coat.

“I love you, Pen,” he kissed her quickly, slipping his gloves on his hands.

“I love you, too,” she beamed up at him, watching as he put his hat on his head.

 With a nod and a cheeky grin, he climbed into his carriage and rode off down the road.  

Penelope took note of the fine weather that morning and deemed the risk of rain quite low. She penned his sister a quick note asking her for some company on an outing, in a quite elegant cursive, if she said so herself.

~

Eloise, as it turns out, hated shopping for most things, but loved being with Penelope.

“What do you think, does this quill look durable enough for my sad attempts at writing?”

“I should think so. You haven’t been nearly so harsh on them as of late, ever since you found out that pressing harder will not somehow make the letters more legible.”

Penelope tickled the taller woman’s ear with the end of the feather in protest of her teasing and pulled out a few coins to pay the vendor. “Maybe someday I’ll stop plopping ink in the middle of a sentence, too.”

“One can dream,” Eloise grinned, taking her arm as they started their stroll down the street once more.

Their maids trailed behind them a few feet with their boxes. They carried a pair of new shoes for Penelope, some new gloves and stockings, and probably too many books between the two of them. With their errands complete, the small group strolled through the crowds at their leisure.

The cobbled streets clicked beneath their heels as the city bustled around them. Penelope found she enjoyed the rushing people brushing past them as they hurried along wherever they needed to go. Her short legs were never going to keep up, so she was content to mosey along with her companion. They were hardly in Mayfair, but among so many, and with the company of their maids, they felt quite safe. Once a week they made a similar trip, picking up some new books and stopping for an ice cream at Gunther’s.

They spent quite a lot of time together the past few months, actually, just enjoying each other’s company. Whenever Pen couldn’t go outside because it was raining, Eloise came to her and they simply sat in chairs next to each other, reading a book in complete silence but for the crackling of the fire and the turning of pages. Sometimes, when they finished something the other enjoyed, they talked about it for hours, discussing characters’ morals and choices, and debating if the plotlines were realistic enough or required a certain suspense of disbelief.

They were, as Eloise called them, best friends.

Yet another development in her life that, while she could never have anticipated it, Penelope found quite welcome.

That’s not to say she liked everything about London. She hated the smelly river, how much it rained, the rude society ladies that turned their noses up at her, and trying to fit in with the rest of the ton. She missed the smell of the sea, and swimming freely rather than in a tiny bath. The more time she spent away from the ocean, the more distant that part of herself became.

Some days, the thought of spending time with Eloise was the only reason she got dressed.

“Oh! Would you like to stay for dinner El? Colin and I would love to have you, and I believe by the time we get home it shouldn’t be too long before he arrives as well.”

“Of course, I would love to spend more time with my favorite sister-in-law,” Eloise smiled, bumping into her slightly.

“Favorite?” Penelope’s brows rose. “Of all of them, I’m the one you like most? You have so many!”

“But none so close in age and amiable as you. We are so similar, it’s a wonder that you like my brother so much, considering how often he irritates me with his annoying conversations of his travels.”

“That’s merely one of the plights of siblings, I suppose. With my own sisters, they could hardly say two words without insulting me, or irritating me, or ratting me out to our mother, and yet I still love them and miss them dearly.”

“It must be so hard, to be unable to see them, or even write them,” Eloise empathized.

“I doubt if I wrote they would take the time to read it.”

“If they could read it, you mean,” Eloise teased. “Honestly, it’s a crime they allowed your penmanship to remain so abhorrent. Didn’t you have someone to teach you?”

“Well, it wasn’t exactly easy to write—” underwater. Penelope caught herself before she accidentally said something stupid. Still, Eloise gave her a strange look.

Oh no.

“What do you mean, not easy? Did you not have paper or quills in Italy?”

“Oh, no, I only meant we didn’t have a governess. It was left to my mother to teach us, and well, you see the results of her efforts,” she tried to brush off her mistake.

“Wasn’t your father a merchant, or something? Could you not afford one?” Eloise wondered.

“He wasn’t a very good one, clearly, since we had no money for a maid either,” Penelope laughed uncomfortably.

“Well, I suppose so. Were you truly left to learn only what your mother could teach you? From what you told me, that could not have been much, even in the traditional ‘womanly’ areas of expertise. Your embroidery is about as bad as my own.”

“I had a relatively…unsupervised education, you might say. We made do with my mo—"

Suddenly, a man crashed into her, knocking her to the ground.

“Oh!” she shrieked, and she heard Eloise yell as she got caught in the crowd and pushed farther down the road along with their maids.  Her neck just supported her head enough to prevent it from hitting the stones, but her elbows screamed as she caught herself, and one of her knees surely had a massive scrape down the side of it if the throbbing was any indication.  

The man lay next to her, his arm atop her stomach. She could barely see the face obscured by his top hat, but his hair, the shape of his nose…

“Nimrod?” she whimpered.

“It’s Fife, when I’m on land,” he sneered. “Nimrod Fife, but you shouldn’t know my first name, proper married lady like you.”

It truly was him, then. She wasn’t used to seeing him in clothes, looking like a proper Londoner in a jacket and cravat, but she could never mistake his face. He was a member of her pod, and the frontrunner in her mother’s scheme to get her married off. He dealt with humans when it was required of him, so he had an entire alternate persona when on land.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered. They had drawn a bit of a crowd now, people asking if they were alright. Fife hopped up and smiled, offering Penelope his hand, and she had to take it, lest she draw more attention to herself.

Both of them on their feet, and the people assured of their wellness, the low murmur of pleasant conversation resumed around them, the crush of people closing them in. Penelope couldn’t see Eloise or her maids, they must be around somewhere…

“I have a message from your mother,” he sneered.

Penelope tensed, and her breath caught in her throat.

“What—”

“She says if you don’t go back to her, if you don’t return, she’ll tell the world about your husband’s black market liquor, and he’ll go to prison.”

Oh.

Oh no.

“What do you mean? Black market, why that’s—"

“I’ve been snooping around,” he smirked. “Your husband is not very good at hiding his paper trail. The documents are all right there, at the docks.”

Penelope vaguely recalled a break-in at the British East India Company offices some months ago, around the time they were married. Nothing was taken, but with so many papers strewn about it was impossible to know what information the culprit acquired.

Apparently, he wanted to know more information about her husband to blackmail her into leaving him.

“You have a month, to get your affairs in order. We’ll be watching, and I’ll be waiting anxiously for your return to us,” he threatened ominously before slipping back into the crowd.

I need to leave.

The urge to just go, to just simply disappear was so strong. The crowd was so large, she could just fade away, prevent Colin from going to prison and just go back to her mother—

Eloise appeared, pushing back against the flow of people.

Too late.

“What was that all about?” she asked. “Are you hurt? Do you need a doctor?”

“No, not at all, I’m perfectly well. The gentleman simply tripped and fell into me,” she said, even though her hands still shook from the interaction.

“I’m so sorry I could not reach you, so many people just pushed us along,” Eloise fussed, checking her over and noting the bloody scrapes on her elbows, shaking her head.  

“It’s fine, everything is fine, I am fine,” Penelope exasperated, pulling her arms away from her grip. “Let’s just go home. I think I’ve torn a hole in my stockings.”

Penelope couldn’t hear, couldn’t think, couldn’t feel anything the entire walk. She responded to Eloise, but she couldn’t say what they spoke of.

Her mind reeled between planning her escape in the night to parts unknown to hide from everyone, telling Colin and seeing what he thought they should do together, and (Poseidon forbid) actually going with Fife and back to her mother.

The scared child in her wanted to just run away, protect Colin and stay away from her family. If she disappeared, if they couldn’t find her, they couldn’t hurt her, right?

But they could still put Colin in prison, she remembered. If she just left, they might think he hid her and knew where she was and tell the police anyway.

If she went back to her mother…

She couldn’t. Here, in London, she was free, and with the man who loved every single piece of her, quirks and flaws and all. She couldn’t go back to the ridicule and insults and the pushing to marry a merman she hated just to bolster her mother’s own position.

The only option left was the hardest. She hated to tell Colin that her past resurfaced, causing problems for them both. She didn’t want to break this new peace they grew together.

But she had to do something.

She hoped he would understand.

~

Colin hated working in an office.

Day in, day out, sitting at a desk, his feet jiggling and restless.

Even if he didn’t have to travel all the way to the docks, he worked from his office in his house, and found it difficult to concentrate. He called for food, called for Penelope, read books, went for walks, anything to keep his body in motion. After so many years at sea, constantly moving and going with scarcely any time to breathe, the stillness of his new life unsettled him.

Today he was at the docks, Phillip sitting across from him to keep him in one place as he worked.

Colin sighed.

“You can’t possibly be fidgety already, you’ve only been here two hours,” Phillip said.

“I’m always fidgety, it’s more about how long I can hold myself together before it bursts forth from me.”

“Why don’t we finish taking the inventory and go for a walk to get a drink?”

“That would be a welcome excursion.”

They finished up and walked over to the local alehouse, ordering a pint each and a spread of roast meat, bread, and cheese, they sat down and got to talking.

“So, when do you set sail?” Colin asked his companion. After Colin retired from the seas, Phillip was promoted to captain, and was due to take over his old boat.

“Not more than a week, I think. I’m just waiting on them to hire me a full crew.”

“What’s taking so long?”

“They don’t want to work for anyone but you.”

Colin sighed, taking a deep glug of ale before slamming his mug down. “Well, tough shit. I’m married and retired. I’m not going out to sea again,” he snapped.

“You sound…quite bitter about that, I think,” Phillip hesitated.

Colin contemplated his statement for a moment. “I’m not exactly bitter. I do miss it, and I don’t think I enjoy working in an office every day. I can’t see a solution for that at the moment, though, so I see no point in dwelling on the issue. I need to just make my peace with it.”

“You seem…root-bound.”

“Root-bound?” Colin puzzled.

“It’s a…plant term. I like plants. There are too many roots for too small a pot. You need to…spread out.”

“How do you know so much about plants?”

“I have a greenhouse. I like to tend them. It’s very…calming.”

“But…you’re gone half the year.”

“I have a gardener as well, I just have some personal projects I like to keep an eye on myself when I can.”

“So…you’re saying I need to spread out?” Colin tried to wrap his head around the metaphor.

“In a manner, yes. You need a bigger pot, at least, or slowly but surely your leaves will start to wilt and die.”

“I need a change of scenery, a new location so I can grow,” Colin pondered.

“Yes, or something like it, as long as your wife is amenable,” Phillip reminded him.

“Penelope…I’m not sure how she would feel.”

And he didn’t, not really. She seemed quite happy in London, making friends with Eloise and planning the occasional dinner. He wasn’t sure how she would take leaving the city.

“Think about it,” Phillip said around a bite of food.  

Colin wasn’t sure he could explain that he was “root-bound” to his wife, but surely she would understand that he felt trapped, bound up in a place too small for his needs.

~

Hours later, the sun started to recede below the horizon and Phillip had long gone back to his home in town, Colin still sat at his desk, trying to finish his work for the day. He regretted telling Penelope he would be home on time.

He was nearly finished, only a few more papers needed his signature before he—

“Colin! I’m glad you’re still here,” he heard a voice say from his doorway, and he looked up to see Anthony striding through, removing his riding gloves from his hands.

Colin groaned. “What in God’s name are you doing in this part of town? Get lost on your way to White’s?”

“Oh, don’t be such a child. I needed to speak with you about something that I rather stay between the two of us.”

“What could you possibly require so much secrecy that it cannot wait until tomorrow when I will be at your home for dinner?”

“It’s about your wife, Colin.”

Colin snapped his head up from his paperwork. Anthony pulled a seat up to sit across from him.

“What about Penelope?” he said carefully.

“I suppose I should preface this by saying that, no matter what I tell you today, I still support your marriage to her. She is a wonderful foil to you, and you both seem truly in love with one another. I only wish for you to be enlightened to some information I’ve acquired.”

“What information?”

“Colin, there is no Featherington family in Portofino. There is no family with the surname ‘Featherington’ in existence in the whole of England or the continent, as far as I can find.”

Colin pretended to act concerned. “What? How did you find this out?”

“As soon as I learned her whole name, I had some people look into her, see what her background is. These past months they’ve searched far and wide for anything pertaining to your wife.”

“Anthony—”

His brother held up a hand to stop him before continuing, “Only, they could find nothing. There is no record of a Penelope Featherington existing anywhere in England, Italy, or any other Mediterranean city.”

“What are you implying?” Colin demanded.

“Your wife lied to you,” Anthony stated, his eyes boring into him, unyielding.

Colin shook his head in disbelief, his gaze lingering about the room, so he didn’t have to meet his brother’s. “She didn’t lie, Anthony.”

“Listen, Colin, if she has a past…a less-than-innocent one…it really doesn’t matter. I only thought you should know that she likely didn’t come from an English family living in Italy, merchants or travelers or otherwise. She was probably a prost—”

“Don’t,” Colin interrupted darkly. “I know who my wife is, and it is not a prostitute.”

“But if she was—”

“She. Was. Not,” he growled, the bass in his voice reverberating in his chest.  

“I’m only looking out for you—”

“And I know everything I need to about Penelope. I don’t need your meddling to protect me.” Colin stood up abruptly, his chair screeching back from his desk, his tall form towering over Anthony. “I’m going home to my wife now. This conversation is over.”

“I don’t care if she was, Colin—”

“And I’ve told you she wasn’t!” he shouted. Colin paused, trying to breathe slowly as he came around to stand by Anthony’s chair. “Look, I know what her past is. I know that the story we told everyone is fake, a cover for something else. I know where she came from, and who her family is, and I know that they won’t ever want her back now. Does that satisfy you?”

“I—yes, it does Colin,” Anthony said. “As long as there is no potential for people from her past to resurface and create a problem, it seems like you are aware of all that you need to be.”

“I am. I love her, she loves me, and we have no plans to be apart ever again.”

“I only wish you would have told me, as head of the family—”

“I am not just your younger brother, Anthony. I am Colin Bridgerton, former ship captain with his own job and his own income. I love you, and I know you took care of all of us for years,” he paused, placing a hand on his older brother’s shoulder, “but I am not a child anymore. I know what I want, for once in my life, and I have it, and I am—” he thought for a moment, “content with my wife and my job and my situation. I know you are used to looking out for me, and I appreciate it, but I have it all in hand.”

Anthony smiled. “I suppose I’ll have to find someone new for my imported liquor now, with you stuck on land.”

Colin laughed. “I certainly can’t provide for you personally anymore. You might just have to pay the taxes on it.”

“What a tragedy that is,” Anthony said. “How are your other customers suffering the loss?”

“Lady Danbury’s expressed her irritation to me that she no longer has access to her favorite French merlot.”

“But no one’s threatened to tell?”

“No. I only sold to people I trusted, so no one’s said a word aside from congratulating me on my marriage and wishing me well in my new position.” He thought for a moment, mumbling, “Except for Lady Danbury, of course, but I highly doubt she would turn me in. She likes me too much.”

“Well, I am certainly glad your pirate days are over, and I no longer need to worry about bailing you out of prison.”

“I was hardly a pirate, but I’ll take that as a compliment,” he jested.

Anthony sighed. “I should let you return home to your wife.”

“You should. I’ve been parted from her for far too long.”

“It has been maybe eight hours,” Anthony deadpanned.

“Yes, about seven hours too many,” Colin stated.  

Anthony rolled his eyes. “I cannot wait for you to have children, so this newlywed nonsense calms down a bit. It’s quite excessive.”

Colin felt a little bit of sadness creep in. Penelope explained that having children would be very, very difficult for them, but even after four months of constant sex nearly every day, there was still no sign of pregnancy. He didn’t realize that it could take years for his seed to take inside her, but he was resigned now.

“I don’t know if that will be anytime soon,” he said woefully.

“Come now, you’ve only been wed a few months. Why, she could be with child now and you would not know yet. Don’t look so forlorn about it.”

He very much doubted that, but Anthony’s attempts at consoling him did not go unnoticed.

“Yes. I should have a little more hope.”

Maybe they should escape London, if only to evade the prying eyes of the city and his family while they waited for a miracle.

Chapter Text

Colin arrived home much, much later than he expected, thanks to Anthony’s meddling. He was starving, but knew that Pen and El had probably finished eating by now, so it would be some simple bread, meat, and cheese for him.

“Pen! El! Are you still around?” he called out into the foyer.

Silence.

Then, the light click of some shoes on the stone floors.

Dunwoody rounded a corner.

“I believe Mrs. Bridgerton is upstairs in the bath. Miss Bridgerton left not quite an hour ago,” he explained.

“Thank you, Dunwoody. Please have a tray sent up to the room, just leave it outside the door and knock,” Colin requested as he shucked off his outer coat, the rain from outside rolling off the oiled leather and onto the floor.

His butler bowed and strode off to fulfill his request.

Colin, thrilled by the thought of his wife in the bath despite Anthony’s concerned and invasive behavior not an hour before, climbed the stairs two at a time and stood in front of his bedroom door. He knocked lightly, and said, “Pen?” to announce his presence to her. Too many times had he simply barged in to her shrieking and desperately trying to cover herself with a towel while still in the bath, resulting in puddles on the floor and soaking wet clothing as he tried to calm her down.

“You can come in, Colin,” her gentle voice sounded from the other side, and he creaked the wood open, quickly slipping inside and shutting it again.  

He saw the top of her head, her curls plopped in a pile and secured with a long metal pin. The tub was quite oversized, much to the annoyance of the servants anytime they had to drag the thing around, but Colin specifically bought it for her when he realized she didn’t quite fit in the standard size.

And he rather enjoyed sharing with her, if he was honest. The intimacy of sitting with her in warm water was something he didn’t realize he would enjoy, but once he discovered that he did, he seized every opportunity to do so.

“Welcome home,” she greeted him, turning her head a little to see him better.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, already taking his jacket off and starting to work on his waistcoat.

“Have I ever said no?” she chuckled.

“I am a gentleman, and it is still more polite to ask,” he laughed, unknotting the cravat at his throat and tossing it on the arm of a chair.

“Colin, we…need to talk. I found something out today,” she said seriously.

“Oh?” he paused the removal of his clothes, his hands hovering over the button on the placket of his trousers.

“Just…come in here with me. The water’s still quite hot. You know I like my bath’s boiling at first.”

He finished taking off his pants, slipped off his socks, and placed his signet ring on his bedside table.

She found out something?

Is she…?

Could she already be…?

His mind didn’t want to think the word, lest he get his hopes up too high.

“Lean forward,” he instructed. He slid in behind her, his legs on each side as she reclined back against him. “I’m sorry I was so late coming home. Anthony came to the office today.”

“Did he? Whatever for? We’re to go see him for dinner tomorrow.”

“Well, he…” Colin paused, trying to find the words to explain without causing her too much anxiety. If she were with child, her position was secure anyway, and Anthony would have to forget what he learned. “Anthony, in his effort to ensure you are who you say you are, had some people look into your name, Penelope Featherington, in just about any place you might have lived before I met you.”

She gasped. “And he discovered that she doesn’t exist, didn’t he?”

“He did. He thinks you’re a prostitute. I told him otherwise, and he doesn’t care, but his meddling could be troublesome.”

“Quite.”

He went silent, just taking her in for a few moments. Her soft skin on her back pressed against his front, and her hands rested on his thighs, bracketed on either side of her hips. He could feel the scales on her tail, slick and nearly indistinguishable from the rest of her body but for the slight roughness to their edges. Her breasts sat heavy against her torso, fully submerged in the water but the rosy tips still visible beneath the surface. He wrapped himself around her so they rested on his forearms, hugging her tightly to him as he posed his next question.

“What is it you found out today?”

She sighed, her eyes closed, and her mouth pinched. Her body tensed up a bit, her head falling back onto his chest as she breathed deeply for a few seconds. Her lashes fluttered open, revealing her blue eyes, full of worry and concern and hesitancy.

“My mother knows where I am.”

Colin’s eyes went wide. “What?” he breathed quietly, the air stuck in his lungs.

“And she knows about your liquor,” Penelope cringed, turning her face away from him again.

“How in God’s name does she know about that?” he panicked, trying desperately to keep it from overwhelming him and overtaking his head.

“Do you remember that break-in at your office some months ago?”

“Break in…oh,” he realized. “I guess we know what they were looking for now,” he said dryly.

“Indeed,” Penelope murmured. “Her man told me that I have one month to go back to her or he will turn you in and force my hand.”

“Oh, Pen,” he mumbled into her neck, feeling her wet skin slide beneath his hands in the water.

“I’m sorry, Colin,” she whispered.

He sighed. “Well, we’ve fucked this a bit, haven’t we?”

“I couldn’t tell you where we went wrong, but yes, it seems so,” she lamented.

“Maybe it’s not that we went wrong somewhere…” he reflected.  

“Perhaps it was a fool’s errand from the start, trying to hide my secret,” she finished his thought.

“Perhaps. We still can’t tell people, Pen. I worry what they might think, what they could do…but maybe we should have told a select few, so they could help us.”

“I know. Maybe if we told just your family? It’s so hard to keep from them especially.”

Colin thought. “After my conversation with Anthony today, that may be best. I’m not sure how tell them though since he’s likely to have me committed.”

“I could just have Hyacinth see me in the bath. Everyone would know within minutes,” Penelope tried to joke.

“All of London would know within the day if Hyacinth found out,” Colin laughed. “I thought we could start with letters A through E and see how it goes from there. Maybe just A and E, honestly.”

Penelope leaned back into him and closed her eyes, feeling the rise and fall of his chest against her. The idea of revealing herself, even to a few people, excited and terrified her. To have more than just Colin around that knew about her true self would bring her so much relief. She wouldn’t have to hide quite as much, she wouldn’t have to worry about explaining away some of her eccentricities or odd behaviors that she put on to prevent anyone from discovering her. She wouldn’t have to rush away at the first sign of rain, or flop herself out of a bathtub because she couldn’t risk the maids seeing her tail. Anthony might help protect her with his connections, hide them both if it came down to that. And if Eloise could sit with her, help her lay out towels on the floor so she wouldn’t ruin the wood anymore, perhaps even go with her to the sea someday…

“Gods, I hate this,” she blurted out.

“What do you mean?” Colin craned his neck around to look at her, resting his cheek against hers.

“This city. The air, the smelly river, the people, the constant risk of discovery. I love having freedom to go where I may, but I’m so worried all the time, so worried about being caught in the rain, about too many questions and too few answers, about the servants talking to the wrong person…”

“I…Pen, I didn’t realize,” he mumbled, kissing her lightly on her temple before returning his head to rest on her face.

“I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want you to know, want you to fuss over me. I was trying to make do, trying to find things to make me happy, grow friendships and become a part of society, but…”

“But you feel like a fish out of water?” he said. She turned to glare at him and discovered the mischief he tried to hide behind a tight grin and twinkling eyes.

She splashed him, and he made a great show of sputtering before she spoke again.

“I mean, in the most literal sense, yes. The freshest water in the city is here in this tub with me, so I make our poor footmen haul this thing up here every other day. I miss swimming, I miss the sea, I miss the sunshine, I miss feeling like…myself. So often I have to put on a face in the morning, talk with near strangers and get paraded around town. Only with your sister and yourself do I feel truly at ease.”

“I hope you don’t think I parade you around!” he exclaimed.

“No! You don’t, of course, but wearing all these fancy clothes, styling my hair in neat curls, learning the dances and polite society manners…I feel like I put on a display. Like I am a display.”

She found it hard to articulate these past weeks, but that was exactly how she felt. She put on a show each day, pretending that she was a completely normal human woman, and didn’t have a magical secret she had to hide. She was a figure, a shell that she decorated to fit in but was always a little too hollow, missing an entire piece of herself.

Colin’s hands gripped her waist tighter, his head bending to her neck. “Oh, Pen, I wish you had said sooner.”

“What?” she whispered, her brain starting to boil a little, his lips sucking at the joint of her neck and shoulders.

“I hate all of this faff and finery I have to deal with,” he mumbled. His fingers slid up her arm and around her head, pulling it to one side so he could reach her ear and tug at her lobe with his teeth. “I hate wearing jackets, and hats, and gloves, and I have to shave each morning or I will receive stares, and I can no longer wear my earring that you love so much.”

She laughed lightly, her hand reaching back to find the ear and touch the hole missing its jewelry. “I do prefer your roguish image over this…rather dandy look you put on each day.”

“Dandy!?” he exclaimed, biting her neck hard. She could feel his arousal against her back, hard and hot even in the bathwater.

“Is that offensive to you?” she turned her head to look at his face, and found him quite insulted.

“I’ll show you dandy…” he growled, taking the back of her head by her hair and wrenching her face so he could kiss her lips. He ravaged her, and Penelope could only giggle at the agitation she caused with her words.

“I’ll show you something even better,” she purred, and flipped her whole body around so she lay on her stomach in the water.

Colin’s brows furrowed as her hands braced herself on his thighs.

Her head went below the water.

Her lips wrapped around his member.

He moaned.

He braced his hands on the sides of the tub, his head falling back as he felt her slide up and down, her tongue wrapping around the underside of him with each pull. She sucked on the head for a moment before she resumed the rhythm, her small hand matching her mouth and twisting on the way back up.

It was several moments of pure bliss before Colin realized.

She had no need to come up for air.

“Holy shit,” he gasped, taking her head in his hands. The tub was so deep, there was a good six inches between her and the surface, and he could just see her eyes look up at him from below. Her hair floated around her like fire, shifting with each bob of her head. The tips of her tail slapped against the hammered copper in jest as he watched her turn back to her task. He laughed, the coil of pleasure twisting tighter and tighter, the pressure building beneath his skin. He leaned his head back again, looking at the ceiling as his wife continued to suck and pull and lick at his length underwater. Her other hand crept up along his thigh, and he felt it cradle his balls gently, squeezing in time with her movements.

She must be breathing with her gills, he thought. She took no pauses, no stopping to tease him so she could catch her breath. She took his entire length into her throat each time, sucking him down and pulling her head back to swirl her tongue around his tip, over and over. Her hands squeezed his thighs, her nails digging in a little, and he could just feel her heavy breasts bobbing against his legs as she continued at her brisk pace. He slid his hands into her hair gently, just so he could feel her as she moved.

She knew him well enough to note that he was nearly there, so she sped up just slightly, sliding her hands around to the sides of his bum, holding him in her throat for just a moment before she pulled back and did it again and again and again. She could hear him moan above the water, his fingers gripping her hair tighter at the roots, pulling just a little to direct the pace himself. She allowed him, sucking him back again and again and again, her hands on his thighs and her eyes looking up at his face. He looked down at her once more, she winked, and the muscles by his hips tensed beneath her fingers and he spurted into her mouth, his seed hot and salty and only a little bitter as he shot it right down her throat so she could swallow the entire mess.

His grip on her relaxed, and she took that as her cue to resurface, her skin dripping with water and her hair plastered to her head. His eyes still closed, he fumbled around for her hand beneath the water so he could take hold of it and give it a squeeze.

“Pen, why the fuck haven’t we done that before?” he panted.

“I wasn’t sure if I could, to be honest,” she admitted. “Though, now I don’t see why I thought so. It was quite simple to do.”

A knock sounded at the door, and Dunwoody’s voice quietly intoned, “Your tray, sir. I’ll leave it here on the floor for you.” They listened as his shoes clicked their way down the hall once more.

Colin laughed. “Water’s gone cold now, anyway. Should I help you out so I can eat my dinner?”

“Yes, please.”

He removed himself from the water first, not bothering to towel off. Pen reached her arms out for him, lacing them behind his neck as he gripped her firmly around her waist with one hand and scooped up under her tail with the other. She dripped all over the floor as he lifted her up, moving her over to a chair in the corner. The servants often remarked about the suspiciously damp fabric, even going as far as checking the ceiling for leaks once, but did not inquire too harshly about the source of the water.

Pen settled herself in the cushions as Colin found a towel and draped it over her, shielding most of her tail from view. He wrapped another around her shoulders, and she started to dry her skin off before wrapping her hair up to keep it off her back. She took baths so often that they timed everything perfectly; by the time she was dry and had her legs back, Colin would be dressed for the day or for dinner or for sleep and leave the room, allowing her maid to come in and help her fix her hair and make herself presentable.

Colin pulled on his dressing gown and left the room for only a moment to retrieve the tray left outside their door. When he returned, he placed his food on the table next to her and sat down in the other chair to feast.

“So what do we do?” Penelope asked quietly as she watched her husband shovel cheese, bread, and meat into his mouth.

She watched his eyes as he thought. She could see the emotions roll over him, sadness and anger and wondering and finally the light of an idea that formed.

“Phillip was telling me about plants today,” he started excitedly.

“What do plants have to do with my mother finding me and potentially forcing me to leave you forever?” she puzzled as she grabbed a bit of bread and took a bite.

“He said something about roots, and small pots, and wilting, and it was all very technical in that way Phillip talks sometimes…” Colin tried to remember what they spoke about that afternoon.

“Small pots and wilting?” Penelope raised her eyebrows.

“He said, I need to be replanted somewhere else, where I can spread my roots out, or my leaves will wilt and die,” he recollected.

“Replanted?”

“I think he meant we should leave London for a bit,” he stated.

“That…” Penelope thought, her surprised face slowly shifting into one of understanding. “That could work,” she realized with a shock. If she left London, Fife would have a much harder time keeping an eye on her. They would have to hire a carriage rather than use their own, and leave quite quickly in the middle of the night so she wouldn’t be seen, but it could be done.  

“We’ll lease a house by the sea for the summer,” Colin put down his lump of cheese to take her hand on the table, squeezing her fingers so tightly she could feel her engagement ring digging in.

“The sea?” Penelope’s heart clenched.

“I can transfer over to a different port, maybe Dover or Portsmouth. We can evade your mother, and spend some time by clean water.”

“Could I…go swimming?” she asked hopefully.

“If we rent a house by the beach, I don’t see why not. As long as we have enough privacy, we could do whatever we like.”

“We could really do that? Just…up and leave? For how long?”

“For the entire summer, I thought, through August. We should take advantage of what little nice weather we get in England. It won’t always be sunny, or warm, or without rain, but we’ll be away from here and by the ocean. Maybe you can feel a little more like yourself,” he smiled.  

“Oh, Colin,” Penelope blubbered, tears falling, “You’ll have to invite Eloise for a few weeks. I doubt she’ll allow you to take me so far for so long.”

“We’ll invite anyone you like. We’ll invite all of the Bridgertons, even Ben and Sophie and Frannie and John. If we go to Dover, Daphne and Simon live so close by, they could even visit for the day and return back to Clyvedon.”

“Will we…tell them? About me?”

“Only if you want to. You can start with Eloise, if her knowing would put you at ease a little. I feel like she would probably be shocked at first, but then she would be more annoyed than anything else, that you didn’t tell her sooner.”

“We could go swimming together,” Penelope mused, her mind already turning over the possibilities.

“I doubt she’s as good as you are, but she would be thrilled to spend time with us.

Penelope couldn’t stop smiling.

“We can do this, right?” she looked up at him hopefully.

“Pen, I firmly believe that as long as we are together, we are capable of anything.”

Chapter Text

Only a week after the incident at the market, Penelope and Colin threw an afternoon tea for their friends and family. They asked them, however, to not come in their usual carriages, and instead hire hacks to take them to and from their home. Violet, Eloise, Hyacinth, and Gregory came in one. Kate, Anthony, and their children came as well, along with Kate’s sister, Edwina, and their mother arriving separately. Lady Danbury made a bit of a fuss but eventually relented. A few more acquaintances gave them odd looks at their request but did not ask many questions. Around ten carriages, all unmarked and unremarkable, with unidentifiable drivers and footmen to assist the ladies with the doors pulled up at near the same time to their home, dropping off guests with instructions to return at the previously agreed upon hour.

The party went spectacularly, everyone lunching and listening to Penelope and Colin duet in the parlor afterward. At three in the afternoon, all their carriages arrived once more to take them back to their Mayfair homes, all grouped together in a great bunch in the street, much to the annoyance of their neighbors. The guests waited outside for them to finish pulling up, Colin and Penelope continuing to converse with them outside as they waited with them.

If there was an extra carriage that pulled up to the entrance, no one took notice.

If two of the crowd held a valise and a couple of cases, no one took notice.

If their hosts did not re-enter their home, no one took notice.

Thankfully, Penelope and Colin were quite content traveling light.

They hurried away, paying the driver as much as he asked so he wouldn’t stop all night until they arrived at their destination. They stopped once around nine at night at an inn to change horses somewhere between Sittingbourne and Faversham. They slept on and off, both unable to find peace with the fear that they were being followed hanging over their heads.

Penelope only had a vague idea of where they were headed, but Colin woke her up not long before they were set to arrive.

She gasped when she saw the view outside.

Anthony, with all his Viscount wisdom and methods, secured them a cottage through the summer, just outside of Dover proper, one of the few built on an earthy section of beach rather than atop the massive white chalk cliffs. They signed the papers a few days before without seeing the property but knew it would be perfect from the description.

As they tottered down the worn path, Penelope looked out her window to the sea. It was so long since she’d seen it from shore that it took her breath away, the little white caps at the crests of the waves, the dull roar of the tide that she could hear even over the clopping of horse hooves, the smell of salt on the breeze as it squeezed in through the carriage door, all of it filling her depleted soul.

They pulled down the sparsely marked road just as the sun rose, a watercolor of black, purple, red, orange, then yellow. They traveled to the ends of the cliffs, a little house just visible on the beach below. The driver let them out just before the long drive, the wheels unsuitable for rough, sandy terrain. He offered to assist them with their luggage, and Colin accepted gratefully, the two of them making quick work of it, leaving it all in the foyer for them to put away later.

He waved the driver off and went back down the path to find his wife staring at the water.

She was beautiful in the dawn. The sea glittered in shades of red and gold as the sun fully crested over the horizon, the waves crashing against the sand in a peaceful rhythm. Penelope wore the same evening gown from the previous night, a deep green silk that set off the fire in her hair. She stood there, and he noticed her shoes and stockings in her hand, her bare feet wiggling in the sand as she held up her skirts.

He couldn’t see her face, but he knew she was grinning as big as he’d ever saw her.

“Come, Pen!” Colin shouted. She turned, and indeed, her whole face shone with joy, her curls whipping across her nose as she ran up to meet him.

“When can I go in?” she asked excitedly.

“After I show you the house and we’ve had some proper sleep,” he laughed, taking her free hand to guide her to the front door.

The cottage was quite small compared to their London home, though by Penelope’s standards, it was still enormous. They had three guest rooms, should any of the Bridgertons like to visit. Eloise, the day before they left, claimed that as soon as she could convince Violet to allow her, she would leave and stay with them the entire rest of the summer.

The outside was stone, mortar cementing them together. A cobbled walkway, a little overgrown with reeds and covered in sandy earth, led them to a small wood door. Penelope reached for the handle, but Colin stopped her with a hand on her wrist.

“What—?” she started before she was abruptly swept off her feet by her husband.

“I have to carry you inside, of course!”

“Colin, I thought that was only for newly married couples in their own house! We are letting this place, and—eek!” she shrieked as he readjusted his grip, turning her to the side and opening the door with the hand that was still holding her legs.

“It’s for any new house. And what do you know of human traditions, anyway?”

As he carried her over the threshold of their new home, Penelope giggled. She dropped her shoes and stockings to the floor with a clatter so she could better wrap her arms around his neck, holding his jaw with one of her hands.

“Colin, these country servants will be positively scandalized,” she admonished with a smile.

“It’s only us here,” he grinned, shutting the door behind him with his foot.

“What do you mean?” she asked, confused.

“We have no live-in maid, or cook, or valet, or anyone. I’ve hired two people from the village to cook and clean for us, walking to us from Dover five days a week, but otherwise we are on our own.”

“So that means…” she started to put the pieces together of exactly the lengths he went to for her.

“You can do as you please, to a certain extent. They should be here this evening, but for now…”

She pulled his head down for a needy kiss.

He groaned, the breath from his nose tickling her face. His hands gripped her tighter around her knees and waist, and hers were free to roam his hair and neck, already pulling at his cravat and dropping it to the floor.

“Should we go upstairs?” she purred, breaking their embrace to breathe against his lips.

“I can’t wait, Pen,” he grumbled.

“Well, we can’t do it down here—”

“And why can’t we?” he challenged.

“Oh,” she whimpered.

Why can’t we, indeed?

He still held her in the foyer, but she already looked around for any available surface.

He let her down to the floor only to hike her skirts up with his hands, grip onto the backs of her legs, and pick her up so she could wrap herself around him, her center pressing into his hard length.

He glanced around the room between kisses, her demanding mouth making it difficult to find a place where he could set her down. There were three doorways and he picked one, just hoping for a room with a more serviceable piece of furniture than a half-table holding an empty vase.

It turns out, he chose the parlor, and it was a mere moment before he spotted his mark, sitting innocently in the corner of the room by a large window overlooking the sea.

Penelope shrieked as he moved swiftly across the floor, growling into her lips as his nails dug into her bottom. She pulled at his hair, giggling as she realized where he was going.

He placed her on top of the pianoforte, shoving the bench aside aggressively so he could stand between her open legs. He pulled back from their kiss to look at her red, pouty lips, her tousled hair falling back from her face, her hands braced on the lid of the instrument so her chest stuck out, her sleeves falling down her shoulders. He traced the lines of her collar bones, following the neckline of her gown, dipping his finger into her cleavage for a moment before he slid his hand down her front. He could hear her breathing come in sharp inhales and slow exhales as he touched her, feeling the skin of her thighs and his lips tickling at her neck. She pushed her nose into his hair, smelling him and watching as he continued down.

This felt a little different from their previous lovemaking. She did next to nothing, her hands holding up her body, falling back onto her elbows as her head felt lighter and lighter, his hands caressing her so softly, his lips leaving small kisses along her covered stomach. He palmed her hips, gripping the flesh in his fingers and scratching his nails up to the dip of her waist. Nowhere he touched was inherently sexual, and somehow she still felt like she was burning on the inside.

“Colin,” she breathed, and he looked up at her and grinned from ear to ear as he kneeled before her, pulling her bottom to the edge by her calves, the keys chiming and clanking as he moved and hit them on accident in his passion.

She couldn’t see his face but felt his breath as his fingertips gently traced where her thigh met her mound, feeling the coarse hair and watching as she flushed red with arousal. He spread her lips gently with his thumbs, still not touching her more than needed. Her folds glistened and moved as she clenched around nothing, waiting for his fingers to enter her and his tongue to find her pearl.

“Please,” she whispered, so quietly it was like she didn’t want him to hear her beg.

Who was he to say no?

His tongue split her, starting at her entrance, dragging a long, flat stroke upward, feeling her twitch and hearing her groan as he met her bud. Her fingers gripped and pulled against the wood, one of her legs wrapped around the back of his head, holding him in place as he continued his broad licks, achingly, teasingly slowly.

“More,” she exhaled, and he tightened up, using the tip to gently flick her clit as he carefully moved his left hand to her center, slowly extending one finger, and inserting it so he could curl upward and hit that magic spot just there—

“Ohhh,” she moaned loudly, her back arching off the pianoforte, her hips pushing into his face and hands. He smirked into her, wrapping his lips around her so he could suck as he worked, fluttering over her lightly, her head tossing back and forth as she cried out.

She was close, Colin knew from her noises, so he continued, inserting another finger as he pumped them in and out of her in time with his mouth, pressing into the front of her walls. He braced his elbows on the keys, the same couple of notes sounding as his arms wiggled with her movements, riding his face as she sought her finish. One of her hands found his hair and tugged, smashing him into her, his breathing coming in faster as she smothered him with her vulva.

He allowed her to do as she wanted since she was so close, her voice going almost silent as she let the pleasure overcome her, wash over her body, her skin on fire and her senses overwhelmed by Colin’s hands and his hair and his little grunts as he slurped at her juices and sucked at her bud and the look on his face as he ate her soul out from her cunt, like he couldn’t be happier than at that very moment and he could die with his face buried between her legs and leave this mortal plane with no regrets.

With the final drop of ecstasy conjured by his beautiful stormy eyes peering up at her, her cup finally tipped over. She exploded, her body no longer her own, her arms gripping and pulling and her muscles tensing and releasing and her throat moaning and wailing. She felt pleasure pour out of her, flooding her vision and her veins and evaporating into the room slowly, the waves flowing over her again and again, strong and then slowing, slowing, weaker and weaker until finally, finally she was done.

Penelope felt much like a plate of jellied eels, which was not exactly a thought she wanted to cross her mind at that moment. She laughed, a breathy, weightless sort of thing as she tried to catch her breath. Colin emerged with more clanking from the piano keys as he pressed his hands down, kissing the inside of her leg as he stood up.

“I’m going to take this dress off you,” he explained, “and fuck you here in this parlor so every time you play this pianoforte, your little cunt will start dripping with need for me.”

She exhaled.

He pulled her up by her arms, reached around behind her, and with little more than a dozen flicks of his fingers he unbuttoned her. He carefully lifted the fabric over her head before he started to remove her stays, her chest heaving out of the top as he kissed her forehead all over and loosened the front laces, thankful that the fashions of the day only required support for her bosom. A few short moments later, she was freed, and her shift lifted over her head, and she was bare.

Colin made quick work of his waistcoat and shirt, staring her down as he revealed his chest. She’d seen it so many times now, and yet he still set her heart racing, his heated gaze unwavering as he unbuttoned the placket to his trousers and sent them to the floor with his drawers.

He wasted no more time, pushing forward to meet her in a kiss. Her legs wrapped around his hips, his member pressing between their stomachs. They created their own sort of music as they moved, his thighs and her heels chiming in, trying to create a symphony.

Penelope reached between them to grasp his length, pointing him toward home. They needed no words to communicate, no looks or gestures; he knew she was more than ready, and he pushed inside of her, stretching her warmth around him and seating himself fully.

He only glanced at her before he set the pace, slow and languid and adoring. Pen laid back, the cool wood shocking against her hot skin. She ran her hands up her body, feeling her own stomach and her hips and her waist and landing on her breasts, her fingers rolling her nipples gently and grabbing at the flesh. He felt so good inside her, so filling and molding perfectly to her body, but she needed—

One of her hands reached down to where he met her, and found that little secret.

She was laid out before him like an endless feast, like a plate that would always be full, like a Christmas dinner he could eat night after night. As he rutted into her, his hands holding bum up so he could reach her, his hips awkwardly angled over the piano keys that clanged with each thrust, she played with herself, and he wished he could do it for her but God, her fingers on her own clit was the next best thing. He felt them touch his member where they were joined, gathering some of their moisture to spread around her folds so she could slide them over herself. He knew just how she liked it: fast but gentle and light, so so light that there was almost no pressure at all.

Penelope watched his face, unashamed of her actions and relishing in how dark his gaze seemed as he looked at her hands. She smiled, arching her back so his thrusts hit that magic spot inside her, his head dragging along it inside of her. She felt his nails dig into her skin, his brow furrowed in concentration, and she knew he was waiting for her to finish first.

Lucky for him, she was almost there once again.

“Nnng,” she cried out as he sped up just a notch, just enough to clank a few more notes out on the keys and cause her inner walls to start quivering around him.

“Are you—?” he panted, never stopping, never pausing, never hesitating.

“Yes, keep go—ah!” she tried to get the words out, but she moaned, whined, fluttered, and she was gone and he was too.

Colin struggled to keep himself upright as he spurted inside of her, her walls milking him as she came apart, the hand on her breast digging it’s nails into her skin and the fingers on her clit still working away. His hips stuttered into her, no longer with any rhythm but following his own pleasure. Fire shot up his spine and down to his feet, his eyes forced open so he could watch the smile and the climax and the relief wash over his wife’s face.

As she came down, Penelope’s legs went limp around his waist, dropping to his thighs. He could feel his muscles start to fail so he pulled her to her feet by her arms and helped her stay up, holding her around her waist as she leaned into him.

It hit them all at once, where they were and what they just did.

“Should we go up to the bedroom now? I think the cook will be arriving later to make supper, and we probably shouldn’t be walking around here in our unmentionables,” Colin chuckled, glancing down at their naked bodies.

“Yes, let’s go find it,” she panted, her sweaty skin starting to chill in the cold air.

They gathered their clothes with many giggled and guilty looks, Penelope vaguely holding her shift in front of her “just in case.” The stairs creaked a bit as they walked but felt sturdy enough. All the bedrooms were on the second floor, and neither were quite sure which was the master suite…

“I guess we just open doors,” he shrugged, picking the first one to the left. That was evidently not it, with only a small single bed centered along one wall. “That will be Eloise’s when she visits,” he mumbled.

“Could it be the one at the end of the hall?” Penelope suggested.

“That…would make sense, wouldn’t it?” he chuckled, and they both creaked the door open and strode inside.

This couldn’t have been anything but the master suite. Though still quite spartan compared to their room in London, the bed was absolutely massive, and the furniture the finest in the whole house, with a plush rug beneath their bare toes.

“This is lovely,” she remarked, still taking the whole thing in.

As she glanced around, Penelope looked up at the ceiling. It had a thatched roof, of all things, something Penelope found quite novel when they arrived and spotted them on some of the more country houses around the outskirts of the city.

“And it’s only straw up there? Won’t it leak?” she asked Colin. Leaks were of particular concern to her, lest the servants make a surprising discovery while she plays the pianoforte in the parlor one evening during a storm.

“No, it’ won’t leak. People have had roofs like this for hundreds of years with no issues, so long as a thatcher does his job correctly.”

“If you’re certain…” she said warily.

She exhaled.

It was just them in this little house.

She could go…wherever she wanted, nearly whenever she felt like.

She moved to the large window and undid the latch. It faced the sea, and the breeze off the water smelled like salt and home.

She turned to Colin, her smile wide as she dropped her clothes to the floor, revealing her body to him once more.

“When can I go swimming?”

~

They settled into a comfortable routine over the next month. They woke at their leisure, took breakfast in bed, and dressed each other for the day if they did not plan to spend the afternoon by the sea.

If the sun was shining, one could not find them anywhere else.

They had the entire stretch to themselves, completely private and secluded from other cottages. Some days, Pen would rise in her shift, strip down on the shore, and swim all day, just back and forth along the coast. Colin would occasionally join her, but she was so much faster than him, his rudimentary technique no match for her fins and tail, that he often watched from a chair on the sand, a table full of tea sandwiches and cakes next to him.

She looked so…whole.

She giggled and flicked buckets of water at him with her magic and dove down to the bottom and brought him all sorts of shells and fossils and creatures from the sea floor.

No more looking out the window, forlorn and melancholy.

No more forced dinner parties and socializing.

No more pretending.

Eloise had yet to arrive, but when she did, Penelope planned to reveal herself as soon as possible. She was almost giddy at the thought of her friend finally knowing, confident that she would be surprised but more curious than anything else. Colin thought she might be angry that they kept the secret from her for so long, but he knew she would quickly find herself inquiring about the mechanics of it all.

Their maid and cook lived in town and only arrived in the evening, at Colin’s request. The cook would prepare supper, sandwiches for the next day, and as many biscuits as she could manage, sometimes bringing them from her own kitchen. It was easier, Colin told Penelope, to keep her secret if they did not live with them. Penelope, not used to having so many attendants anyway, did not mind at all.

It also allowed them to have relations in any room they chose.

By the end of the first week, they’d had sex on every flat surface in the cottage. By the end of the second, the novelty largely wore off and they kept much of their fun to their own bedroom, with only the occasional excursion to the couch in the drawing room.

Or the large dining table next to the kitchen.

Or, forgoing all sense of propriety, on a blanket in the sand outside. 

That one, they discovered very quickly, was a mistake not to be repeated. He found sand in places he didn't know existed for days.

Of course, because they still lived in England, there were quite a few days full of rain and clouds. To occupy their time, they would practice singing together at the pianoforte, or Colin would listen as she read from one of the books the cottage owners kept in the parlor. He still had his work, of course, but it wasn’t such a long ride into town, and he found there to be much less paperwork than at the London offices. He might only go in a few days a week, taking a lot of the accounts with him to work on from home so Penelope didn’t have to be alone.

He worried when she was alone.

They hadn’t heard anything from her mother or that Fife fellow or the port authorities at all, and that worried him. It was well past the original month stipulation, and he’d expected more trouble by this point from one or the other.

But…nothing.

He rode into the docks each day, half expecting someone to be waiting to take him to prison for smuggling, but each day he arrived and sat down in his office, as normal.

It was suspicious.

He did worry on occasion about Penelope swimming in the sea so much. Should someone sneak up on her, he wouldn’t be able to swim fast enough to save her. She assured him, however, that as long as she was in the water, she could sense anyone coming up to her from the sea. She had to keep her wits about her, of course, but she was sure there was little chance of a surprise visit from her family.

~

One unremarkable Tuesday morning, he rode into town for work. He hopped off his horse, leaving it in the stable for the day, and strode into his office.

Two men were already inside.

Fuck.

This is it.

This is what he's dreaded for the past weeks, the demon hanging over his head.

“Captain Bridgerton, we have some questions for you about some items you may have brought into the country without paying the proper taxes.”

“Oh?”

“We were tipped anonymously that you imported French wine and liquor, with documentation proving that you did not report it to the proper authorities.”

He knew exactly where they found the papers. They were the one’s stolen from his office all those months ago, and whoever worked with Penelope’s mother must have tipped them off. He’d been in Dover a month and a half now, enough time for the information to be revealed and for these men to find him.

And if they could find him, then he was not exactly hidden from society anymore.

“Documentation?” he decided to play dumb.

“We found records of ship inventories that did not include the alcohol, and personal entries from a journal that seem to record purchase dates, prices, and buyers. We will have to do a thorough investigation, but until it is completed you are suspended from working for the British East India Company.”

Colin sighed, punching the doorjamb with a growl.

Fuck.

~

Fife waited far offshore. After searching the English coast for weeks now, he thought he knew where to find her, had seen glimpses of her red hair enough from the water. He knew she had to be in Dover, and if he was right, she would be by the sea…

He watched as a small figure left a large cottage on the beach. She wore her copper curls loose, and only a light shift on her body that she discarded just before she sprinted into the waves, diving in headfirst.

A tail.

So blue it nearly matched the water, her shape disappearing into the sea.

It was her.

He turned to rush back to the Bay of Biscay.

He had to tell Portia.

Chapter Text

Colin found himself increasingly frustrated.

The investigation proceeded slowly. According to them, it was more about tabulating just how much he owed rather than proving he owed anything. They spoke to Lady Danbury, Anthony, Benedict, his superiors at the British East India Company, Phillip, and anyone he may have spoken more than two words to. In addition to the interrogations, they combed through all of his files, anything from ship inventories to his captain’s logs from each journey he’d ever taken.

They had plenty of evidence of his transgressions, apparently. All of the papers were taken from his offices at his London home and at the docks, and from his desk in their cottage, years of files and his accounts that he was too arrogant to disguise, ready to be used against him.

Unable to work, he stayed at home most days, though the novelty had long worn off. He felt as though a giant thundercloud hung over his head at all times, his body tense and tight with anxiety and a touch of cabin fever.

His mother prevented Eloise from visiting, believing it to be in bad taste for her to travel there at that moment. None of his other siblings could take time to see him, either; Daphne was about to give birth, Sophie was newly pregnant and did not feel up to travel, and Francesca could hardly make her way to Dover all the way from Scotland. Phillip was at sea, along with his other sailor friends he’d made over the years.

He felt rather lonely. 

Away from London, his family, and his profession, he was, well, bored.

And he was angry.

He knew when he started smuggling that it was stupid. He didn’t need the money, and the risk of ruining his reputation was quite high, but the thrill every time he pulled into the harbor and snuck bottles of cognac, port, and merlot into his carriage was like a drug to him, not to mention the bottles that made it into his stomach before they could leave the boat. Each time he evaded the authorities, his confidence grew. There was no real danger of prison or anything so serious; the government was mostly concerned with taxes. If he were caught, he would never be allowed on a ship again, and possibly be barred from leaving the country altogether.

And Penelope’s mother, in her effort to take back her daughter, made all of that a reality.

There went any future chance of sailing ever again.

Not that he thought he would sail again, not really. He retired never expecting to set foot on a moving boat again, perfectly content with keeping his feet on land.

This just took the decision away from him and finalized it.

~

Penelope could not take being around her husband when he acted like this.

He pouted. He stomped around. He slammed books down on tables when they couldn’t capture his interest in the first few sentences. She wasn’t afraid of him, per-se, but she did find it incredibly annoying.  

He didn’t want to talk about it, either. He just wanted to ‘move on,’ or so he said, though it seemed to her that was the last thing on his mind. She tried everything for a few days, reading aloud to him, paying their cook a little extra to make an excess of biscuits and bring them over in the evenings, taking out new sheet music for them to learn together, and none of it would hold his attention. He always reverted to grave, gloomy, grumpy, or some combination of the three.

His drinking did not help matters.

She thought her mother would still go through with her plan when they came here. If Penelope knew only one thing it was that the woman who raised her was tenacious like no other being on land or in the sea. Her mother was the only reason they survived after being kicked out of their pod, the only reason they had any sort of credibility as mermaids after they joined their new one.

Penelope only hoped that she did not know where she was hiding yet.

She went outside less frequently these days. It hurt, but the chances of someone waiting for her in the water were too high. She didn’t know how much Fife knew after he told the authorities about Colin; he could know the city they lived in, the office Colin worked in, or he could have followed him home one day and found their home.

The two of them were both unhappy, she knew. She didn’t quite know what to do about her mother, other than leaving once again when the investigation was over. Colin, of course, grumbled and pouted and didn’t give her a straight answer of what he thought. He seemed like he wanted to stay, though it would be dangerous for her if they did. She took the liberty of writing to Eloise, planting the idea that perhaps they would return to London sooner than they thought, because of the events. She also made sure to mention Colin’s moods, hoping his sister would offer some insight or helpful advice on how to snap him out of it.

Certainly, everything Penelope tried failed, time and time again.

Unfortunately, she’d yet to hear back on either matter.

She missed her husband, and only wanted him to come back to her.

~

It was late afternoon, about two weeks after…everything.

The air felt surprisingly hot, the weather unseasonably warm for an English summer by the sea. Penelope wore a light dress, the white fabric fluttering in the breeze. Colin, to her surprise, still wore a jacket, but no shoes, his bare feet propped up on the piano bench as he reclined, listening to his wife read from a novel.

Penelope felt a drip of sweat fall down the side of her face, and she paused, looking up from the pages.

Colin opened his eyes. “Yes?”

“I think I shall open a window,” she said, standing up. She unlatched one first, thrusting open both panes before she moved to the other side of the room and did the same, creating a lovely breeze that flowed through the space. “There,” she said, satisfied. She sat down once more on her chair and turned back to the book.  

Colin, however, was now distracted.

He could hear the sea outside, birds calling, waves crashing against the shore, but it only served as an angry reminder of his old life. He remembered being on his boat, in the sunshine and the storms, the floor listing beneath his feet, falling out of his bed during particularly nasty weather, drinking with Phillip on slow evenings, and he wished he could have just one more journey.

But he would never feel that again.

Just about anything could remind him of his old life anymore.

And always when something triggered a memory, more flooded in. He thought of sneaking around in old warehouses, buying crates of wine in France, giving rousing speeches to his crew during long stretches of sea faring…

Taking that little rowboat out to meet Penelope in the middle of thick fog.

Her smiling face, covered in water, and her skin dripping in jewels he bought for her, and her words of encouragement, telling him that he was the best captain in Europe, that he needn’t listen to the naysaying of his family because he was clearly successful and a hard worker, that she looked forward to seeing him more than anything in the world…

His heart clenched.

Penelope noted the turn of his mood. Her husband did not notice when she stopped talking, his eyes remaining closed, his body nearly prone as he slouched down and reclined.

“Will you ever get over this foul temperament you’ve acquired over these past weeks?”

Colin startled at the sound of her voice, his eyes snapping open.

“Foul temperament?”

“You huff, and sigh, and grumble, and slam things down, and seem to be trapped in your own head most of your waking hours.”

“Well, I’ve gone through a rather large life-change.”

“You were never going to sail again anyway. You retired.”

“And now it’s final.”

“I just thought you would have already accepted that you were never going to sail. This news from the authorities seems to have…unsettled you more than I would have ever expected.”

“It’s one thing to choose to stop, it’s another to have the choice taken from you.”

“But you already chose to stop.”

He sighed, gritting his teeth.

Penelope continued. “It’s exhausting, being around you when you’re like this.”

“Like it was exhausting for me, trying to keep you happy and safe in London?”

The words left his mouth before he knew what was happening.

He only regretted them a little bit.

“I was not so miserable as you in this moment!” Penelope said, offended. She shut her book and tossed it to an empty chair.

“You were miserable in London and you know it,” Colin grumbled into his hand, rubbing at his face.

“I would have tried—”

“Would you? Or would you have stared miserably out the window for the rest of our days? Whined about the Thames a bit more?”

Colin regretted his words a little when he saw the hurt in her eyes. “I was happy to be with you. I was happy to be away from my mother. I was happy to be your wife.”

“I know you better than that Pen. You were happier, but not happy. Glad to be free from your mother, free to drink wine and eat cake and kiss me, but you were not happy.”

“Colin—”

“And I can’t really fault you for it. You had a piece of yourself taken away. I just wanted to try to give it back, for all the good it did me,” he said bitterly.

“It’s not worth it if you have to give up a piece of yourself in return.”

“Had a piece taken from me, more like,” he grumbled, staring out the window.

“You were never going to sail again anyway,” she snipped at him. She stood up, starting to pace around the sofa.

“No, I wasn’t, because I love you enough for it to be worth giving up my entire life.”

“You are not the only one here who gave up everything, Colin!” she shouted. “I gave up my family, the sea, my magic, all of it for you! I have to spend my entire life keeping a secret for you! I have to live a lie, pretending I’m a whore you picked up in France so no one will know who I really am!”

“It’s not exactly easy for me to keep them in the dark either Pen! Do you know how many excuses I’ve had to make to keep you safe? How often I have to protect you from Anthony’s probing, from my mother’s worry? If there’s even a slight chance of rain I can’t take you anywhere, lest you turn into a fish!”

“I truly appreciate the great effort it is for you to keep me inside,” she replied sarcastically before she continued. “I can’t tell them Colin! I can’t know if they could keep the secret! If my mother—”

“Ah, yes, your mother, yet another layer adding to the misery,” Colin interrupted. “Still has a hold over you and she’s not even here! Controlling your life, and now my own!” He raged on, his face turning red as he took his jacket off and threw it on the settee. He walked over to their decanter of good scotch and poured himself a good three fingers, downing it all in one go.

“You’re just angry because you don’t have any of your fancy black market liquor to wash the day away!” she provoked him. He slammed the crystal glass down on the table and looked at her with fire in his eyes.

“Are you insinuating that I’m a drunk? Because if you think you’ve seen me in my cups before, you’re seriously mistaken,” he threatened darkly.

She had no doubt about that. She’d seen him drink Phillip under the table, and Phillip was by far the larger man.

“I’m insinuating that you are just as miserable here as I was in London. You’ve been miserable this entire time, unable to prance around on your boat, boss around your inferiors, rake in loads of money with your illegal drinks, and now you’ve finally realized that you have a wife and can’t faff around with your boys anymore, though I fail to see why it took you so long,” she taunted him. She couldn’t stop herself; all these thoughts that floated around, that she could never bear to ponder for more than a moment, came rushing to the surface and flew out of her lips as they came to her.

“I can—what is it you said? Make do,” Colin quipped as he poured himself another glass, drinking another finger.

“Don’t throw my words back at me. How can I be selfish when I’ve done so much for you?” she snarled. He continued his pacing as she stood behind their couch, a barrier to her own fury. She dug her nails into the wood, her magic suddenly aware of all the water around her, in the alcohol, in the air, in the clouds above. A storm started to brew, and she clamped it down.

“That’s why! You don’t do it because you just…want to! You do it for credit, to have something to hold over me!” He slowed his drinking, trying to not slosh the liquid onto the floor as he gestured wildly.

“That’s not true! I helped you on your boat because I love you! I went to London because I love you! I tried to be happy there because I love you!”

And she did love him, even now, even when he was tearing into her.

At least he was letting it all out, now.

“And there it is!” he exclaimed. “You are my entire world, Penelope, but you are so selfish! Everything you do, everything you say, every action you take is because you want people to feel bad for you! For people to take care of you! You say you do it for love, like you deserve some sort of prize for something women have been doing for centuries!”

“And what’s that?”

“Defer to their husbands!” he shouted. He paced the room, his bare feet furiously slapping against the floor. He tried to slow his breathing, to calm his head for a moment, but he could not stop reeling at his wife’s words.

“How can I be selfish when I have done so much for you?”

I’ve done more for her than she could ever know.

“You calling me selfish is awfully rich from the man who admitted that he wanted to save me,” Penelope retorted after a moment.

“What does that mean?” he snapped.

“You want the glory, Colin. You wanted to take me away and save me from my mother, give me a better life, whatever that means to you,” she sneered.

“What’s so wrong with that?”

“I didn’t need saving, Colin! I just needed love! You wanted to save poor little Penelope from the big, bad villain, but you didn’t think about what would come next! You expected your life to continue on, exactly as it was!”

And that’s what it was, wasn’t it? She realized it finally hit him that he was married, that he was no longer free to do as he liked, and the life he built for himself at sea was forever out of his reach. Before, he had the illusion of choice; now, he was to be forever more the Former Captain Colin Bridgerton, under the new title of husband and office worker and brother to a viscount, and it ate away at him.

She didn’t see just how much it hurt him until now.

He was sad to be her husband.  

She moved closer to the door.

“You would still be down there with your mother, married to that Fife fellow if it weren’t for me!” he retaliated against her accusations.

She turned to face him, her voice low and dark. “You truly think so little of me? That I have so little backbone that I would tolerate that treatment forever?”

“I think I gave you an easy way out,” he said.

She laughed bitterly. “Don’t forget, Captain, who saved you from my mother twice. Who hid you from her for years so you could make your booze runs faster than anyone else.” She clenched her jaw for a moment, like she was thinking about if she really wanted to say what came out of her mouth next. “Don’t forget that all of your fame is because of me. You would not be Captain Colin Bridgerton, fastest sailor in Europe and the only man to sail through Devil’s Port dozens of times without me, and my magic, and my cunning, and my knowledge of how to manipulate my mother. I would have found a way out of her grasp eventually. By myself.”

“And I thank you for your great sacrifices,” he bit out. He shook his head, closing his eyes and holding his hair in his fingers. “Maybe, if you stopped being so altruistic, so surrendering, for just a moment, you would see that maybe I didn’t need you either. Maybe you would see that these selfless acts are just a façade, covering up the selfish girl underneath. A girl who wants to be seen, and will do anything to achieve it.”

Silence filled the air around them. He went back and forth from staring her down to being unable to look at her, choosing to flit his eyes from the window to the rug rather than meet her hurt face. He’d stopped his moving, finally, deciding it was better to stand still as a statue rather than risk  his shaking legs sending him to the floor. Penelope’s grip on the doorknob tightened for a moment as she observed him.

She couldn’t take it.

“I’ll be outside. I can’t be around you right now,” she said as she flung the door open and strode out onto the beach, barefoot and already untying her dress at the back.

Colin watched her path through the window for only a moment. She shed her clothing right there on the sand.

He knew what she was doing.

He also knew she absolutely could not do it.  

There’s a reason why she had not been in the water for two weeks.

“Penelope!” he shouted, following her out into the hot sun and chasing after her. “Stop! You can’t!”

“And why can’t I? I’ll be openly selfish for once and ignore you,” she threw at him over her naked shoulder.

“We are not done talking—”

“An argument takes two people. If one of them says they are done, then there is no more argument,” she quipped, stopping just before the wet edge of the sand as she removed her stockings.

He just wanted to keep her out of the water at this point. His mind flipped through words.

“It’s not safe! What if—"

“I’ll only be a moment. I need…I need to feel like myself again,” she said joylessly.

She stepped into the waves for only a moment, the change just taking over when she dove into the water and swam out immediately, nearing her top speed. He wanted to wade out after her, knowing he could never catch up but wishing to keep an eye on her location.

Her red hair bobbed around for a moment before she laid back, floating along with the waves. Colin paused to roll up his trousers, not willing to take them off but wanting to move closer to her. He shed his waistcoat as well, leaving it in the sand before he took a few steps into the water.

“Pen, can we talk more about this?” he pleaded.

“Not now, Colin,” she shouted back.

“I just…I need to—"

His voice cut off as he watched a shadow appear below her.

He looked on in horror as a head popped out of the water, moving faster than anything he’d ever seen.

Supernaturally fast.

His wife let out a shriek, cut off when she went under, her body completely disappearing.

He leaped into action, running fully clothed into the waves.

“Penelope!”

He pushed forward, his shirt and pants creating resistance as he swam.

He told her she should defer to him. Instead, she defied him.

He told her he didn’t need her. She came out here because he said he didn’t need her help.

He told her she was selfish, and she wanted to prove him right.

He pushed, and pushed, and pushed, waves of briny water crashing over his head. His muscles screamed at him, and he thought he might have detected a current trying to pull him back to shore.

She didn’t come up again until she was far, far from shore a few moments later, the merman’s hands still around her as she thrashed.

He told her that her secret was exhausting, as if it was not more tiring to be followed by one’s mother and a discarded suitor, blackmailed by them to returning home.

He told her that if not for him she would be stuck in a loveless marriage, as if she could not save herself from such a fate.

He told her that he saved her, confirming her belief that it was just for the glory and not because he loved her.

“Colin!” she screamed his name, scratching at the arms wrapped around her middle. Her hair plastered to her face, covering her eyes.

She was so, so far away.

He swam faster.

“Penelope!” he cried desperately.

One more head appeared in the water next to them, taking his wife by her fin.

This figure had red hair, bright as fire.

The three of them faded beneath the sea.

He swam, and swam, and swam, but he was no match for a half-fish. He knew in his heart that he would never be fast enough to catch her.

She was gone.

Chapter Text

Though Penelope was not physically chained to her mother (most of the time), she certainly felt like she was in prison.

Someone watched her every move. She slept next to Portia, unable to simply turn over without her waking up to cling to her wrist. She ate with her sisters and their husbands, she sat around all day, bored out of her mind, and she was often forced into a conversation with Nimrod.

He tried to get her to talk about anything, remarking on the weather, her hair, her lack of appetite, but she refused to entertain him.

“I shouldn’t like you to think that any marriage we have would be an amiable one,” she stated.

“You’ll come round. They all do,” he sneered, and she imagined gouging out his eyes.

She could bide her time and try to make a plan. With nothing to do, she found herself noticing the patterns of everyone in her pod. It was easy enough; they all did not like change.

And in those moments, she noticed the gaps.

They were not large gaps, but nevertheless there they were.

After dinner, her mother could doze off. In the dark, it was easier to slip past the mermen posted to keep a lookout for boats. Should a boat come past (which hardly happened at all, she noted), people stopped paying attention to her. She still could not join in, choosing to pretend to use her magic against humans like she used to, but if everyone stopped looking at her, she could at least try to leave.

She did try, once, only a week after she arrived. Her mother was asleep after a large meal, and it was dusk above the surface, the sky turning a beautiful pinky orange. Her sisters occupied themselves with their husbands, Nimrod was off somewhere being Fife on the surface (probably making sure Colin could not find her), and she felt as she did before: invisible.

So she slipped away.

It was a mere moment before someone saw her, and drug her back to her mother who actually, physically tied their arms together with a length of rope.

“This is for your own good, Penelope,” she grumbled as she expertly tied the knot.

“If it were for my own good you would let me go home to my husband.”

“He is not your husband, and this is your home.”

“I’ve never felt at home here, Mother,” she sighed. “I was imperceptible until I ran away.”

“And now we are all paying you more mind! Isn’t that what you wanted?” Portia shook her head.

“I wanted someone to love me, someone who saw me as I was, someone who would let me be free—”

“You could be free if you married Nimrod.”

“The illusion of freedom,” Penelope grumbled, but didn’t press the issue any longer. “I was freer as a human than I ever was here.”

She did not want to marry that merman and did not want to give her mother any more excuses to decide to finally go through with it.

It confused her the first few days as to why she was not re-married yet.

And then she realized…

They were waiting for something.

“It’s for your own good Penelope. These men, they have nothing to offer us but pain. You’ll understand someday,” her mother continued.

Of course, always with the perfect timing, he showed up.

“And, when you’ve calmed a bit, we can marry,” Fife smiled.

Penelope thought it looked menacing.

“And we can all be together, as a family,” Portia agreed.

“I’m already married,” Penelope bit out.

“Human marriages mean nothing to us, you know that. Humans are of little consequence to this pod.”

“You may as well get used to me trying to escape because I will never agree to marry him.”

“You will, in time.”

Time, she knew, meant a few weeks to be sure she was not with child.

Penelope could not be sure, she told them. It was not long before she left that she last made love to her husband, so she could be pregnant. It was hard to tell, without a monthly cycle like humans. The chance was very, very slim, so early in her marriage, but it was still there, and she knew Fife would refuse to raise a human’s child as his own.

So, they gave her some time. Not much longer, now, perhaps not more than a month, before she might show symptoms.

There was absolutely no sign of her husband. Not that she expected him, not really, so soon after she left. He needed a boat if he were to come and find her, and she wasn’t sure how he would acquire one after he permanently lost his Captain status.

All the more reason for her to bide her time and wait for the perfect moment to slip away.

They ended up moving their settlement to a different location. She had a feeling that it was her mother’s doing, upon the recommendation of Nimrod. Colin might be looking for her, and the first place he would look would be Devil’s Port. They now resided in the Alboran Sea off the southern coast of Spain, at the western edge of the Mediterranean. It was not ideal, the location encroaching a bit on Portia’s former territory, but they could not stay in the Bay of Biscay. They resumed their regular human ship hunting activities, creating a storm of storms whenever one came their way, and sinking it to the bottom. Eventually, the spot would earn a reputation, and most ships would avoid the area at all costs. For now, Penelope had to pretend weekly that she was participating.

She decided it was to her benefit to pretend that she was accepting her life under the sea again. She fell back into old habits, remaining mostly silent and rarely contributing to the group but her mother took that as her submitting to the grand plan.

“I’m so glad you seem back to your old self, Penelope. I knew you would see reason eventually. You are such a smart young lady, I had no doubts that you would see that this is ultimately for the best,” her mother told her one day.

“Of course, Mother.”

Little did she know it was all part of Penelope’s setup.

Her mother may have known she was smart, but apparently, she did not realize that meant she was quite cunning when she wanted to be. Not that her mother doubted her intelligence, but she was not entirely aware of just how deeply her thoughts ran.

If they thought she was accepting, then they had less reason to watch her so often, less reason to pay attention to her every move, and they would eventually give her more freedom.

With more freedom, she could more easily slip away and have more time to swim as fast as she could before they noticed she was gone.

If she was going to escape, she needed all the time she could steal.

She wasn’t going to count on them simply releasing her if she were to be pregnant, either. She wasn’t sure what the procedure was for this pod; in their previous one, they welcomed any babies regardless of parentage, but this one was far more concerned with lineage. They were more hesitant to accept a baby with one human parent because of a question of loyalty of the child and the mermaid parent, both.

So she waited, and wondered what her husband was doing.

She went back and forth between wishing Colin was looking for her, and wishing he wasn’t so she could escape and go right back to where she left him. Realistically, she knew he was not the type to wait around and do nothing, so even if she did manage to escape it would not be as easy as falling right back into her old life. If anything, she supposed she could go to London and find his family…

She wondered what he told everyone. He could only hide it for so long, certainly from the town anyway. He likely told his brother, the viscount, so he could help. He might tell Eloise as well, though she would not be allowed to assist in any way. She hoped he didn’t say anything to her; she didn’t want to cause her best friend any unnecessary worry.

The first thing she would do when she arrived back home, however, would be to tell her.

Pen was so tired of the secrets.

She laid in bed each night, her mother breathing next to her, and went over that argument in her head over and over. It’s what came from not talking about it for far too long. They both tried to go on as normal, but nothing was normal, and they needed to work things out together rather than stew in their own thoughts.

It went way out of proportion. The words she said flew around in her mind; calling out his savior complex, dismissing how lost and lonely he felt, telling him that she was the only reason for his success like he wasn’t the one travelling the world. Some of it was true, but none of what he did was without reason. He was allowed to feel lost after permanently losing his position, and she should have recognized that.

And gods, did she feel so stupid for going out into the water. Of all the stupid things they said and the stupid actions they took, that was the stupidest. He tried to stop her, he tried to tell her that it was a bad idea, he tried to get her to keep talking, but she did it anyway.

There was no use turning the events over in her head so often, but she could not help it. She could only think of the what ifs: what if she didn’t get into the water, what if she didn’t say anything about Colin’s mood, what if she treated him a little more gently, what if she tried to start the conversation without insinuating that he was the problem.

They were married. They made a promise to stick with each other through sickness and health, for richer or for poorer…

For better or for worse.

Things got worse, and all she did was try to make it entirely his fault.

She had to fix it. She had to apologize and tell him she loved him more than anything in the world, that none of it mattered more than their happiness together.

He said things too, of course, but she didn’t care anymore. He was right, and she needed to do better.

She hoped Colin didn’t feel too guilty.

~

Colin felt like absolute shit.

He spent all of his time forming a plan so he didn’t have to think about their argument. He said the dumbest shit that had ever come out of his mouth, and he spent every moment regretting it.

He wished she didn’t leave him, didn’t want to get away from him so bad that she went into that water. He sat on that beach for hours waiting for her to return, waiting for her to break free and come back to him.

She didn’t.

The cook came by that evening with biscuits and supplies for their dinner, but Colin turned her away at the door, telling her his wife was sick. She gave him a sly grin and said she would be back the next day with some broth and bread, and all he wanted to tell her was that she shouldn’t because Pen was gone and not just ill or pregnant or whatever it is she thought. The maid, too, came along and he turned her away, and he tried to keep a straight face, but he only wanted to sob.  

He could not make himself sleep in the bed they shared. The bed linens smelled like her, and little strands of her red hair littered the duvet and the chair by her vanity. He collapsed into one of the guest rooms that night, his sobs growing quieter and quieter as he drifted off into nightmares, visions of his wife’s kidnapping replaying over in his dreams.

He felt so lost.

He knew, realistically, he couldn’t have done more. She was going into that water anyway, and there was nothing he could have done to stop her, especially after she got wet and her tail fell into place.

It still felt like he didn’t fight hard enough.

The next day he went into town to tell the two women they were no longer needed. He couldn’t risk their questions, wondering where his wife suddenly went. He couldn’t come up with any better excuses, and he thought the whole of Dover probably assumed he was short on funds because of the investigation. Now he was forced to go to town to buy biscuits and eat mostly bread and cheese, at a time when he wanted nothing more than to eat an entire roast chicken.

Damn the investigation.

Damn the taxes he had to pay.

Damn it all if he could not share any of it with Penelope.

None of it mattered anymore. Not the job, not the investigation, not the whispers in town, not what his family thought of him, not what Phillip would say when he found out about all of it.

He spent his days frantically writing out different options. He probably needed a boat, he decided. It would have to be a big one, in case he needed to travel farther than Europe.

He wasn’t sure how he might do it by himself. While he was shorter on coin than he was before they came to him with the official tax deficit, he was by no means poor. And yet he was unsure if he would be able to afford to go looking for his wife. Without steady employment, he knew finding a boat would be expensive.  

He also wasn’t sure if she would escape. He knew her to be incredibly smart and capable, so it would not be beyond reason that she would find her own way out. The odds were not for her; he was not sure if she could outswim an entire pod of mermaids, or if she was even with her pod in the Bay of Biscay, or if she was locked up in a cage down at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean somewhere. As much as she hated her mother, he knew she would find a way out eventually.

Though he was not sure if she would be forced to marry that Nimrod Fife fellow right away. If her mother was willing to blackmail him to giving her daughter back so she could marry “the correct type,” she must be ready to have them seal the deal. The thought of his wife with anyone else boiled his blood. He didn’t know how seriously merfolk took human marriages, but he certainly did not hold their marriages in any sort of esteem. He only worried for Pen, and if she were to be forced to touch him, to be with him…

He could think of it too long, lest he drive himself insane.

So he waited a week, as much as it killed him to linger around the cottage they once shared, and thought up what he would do. When she did not show up on the beach by some miracle of her own making, he braced himself for what he needed to do.

If he wanted to go out and find her, he would have to tell two people her secret: Anthony, so he could cover his tracks and make excuses, and Phillip, so he could secret himself onto his ship and try to find her along the regular route of The Lady Whistledown.

It would likely be under the table, considering Phillip didn’t own The Lady Whistledown. Any searching would have to happen along the regular route, for the time being. If he had no luck there, he would look into hiring someone privately, but he wouldn’t worry about it for now. He would still have to pay Phillip for his discretion and the extra work.

He sent a letter to Anthony. He would have to wait a few days to leave, to give it time to arrive, so he didn’t show up entirely unannounced. He would have to stay with his brother and Kate. He supposed Kate would also have to know why, since she was the one running things, but he trusted her to keep it to herself.

God, the thought of going back to their home without Pen…

It ate him up inside. If he could not bear to look at their bed here, one that they did not own, he wasn’t sure if he could survive being in that house.

Even here she was still everywhere. She was in the books left on every surface, in the half-written letter to Eloise, in the unfinished cup of tea next to the window. The walls missed her laugh, the air longed for her banter, the sea cried for her presence.

Colin knew he was being a little dramatic, but he felt like the other half of himself disappeared.

So he put everything into finding her.

He wrote out his plans, listed steps, his plan A vs plan B vs plan C, named who he needed to contact, and everything written into a journal he could carry with him.

It was probably the most thought he’d put into anything before. He could not afford to be spontaneous, to just hope he would come across her by a stroke of luck. He needed to check the places he knew first, and then work from there.

The letter to Anthony sent, he waited as long as he could bear before going into town to hire someone to take him to London. He hoped his brother would not be overly surprised by his presence and give him enough time to explain to him Penelope’s absence.

He packed up his suitcase, and his wife’s. He cried as he folded her dresses, carefully placing them in a valise for her. It didn’t even cross his mind for more than a moment that he wouldn’t bring them along for her, because when found her she would need some proper clothes again. He made sure to pack a pair of stays, a shift, a night dress, some stockings, and her favorite comfortable pair of shoes.

He thought about bringing jewelry and suddenly remembered her engagement ring. He checked in her jewelry box and there it was; she had never put it on the morning of their argument.

He put it in his pocket, the action too familiar.

She would want it back, eventually.

He fell asleep in the guest bedroom one more time. Come morning, the carriage he hired would arrive to take him to London. He would have to pack up all of their luggage and take it home—

Not home. He would not return there without his wife. He would leave her things in his room at Bridgerton House as long as he needed to, taking a few things on the boat but leaving the rest for her to get back.

Because she would come back.

If he could not find her, she would find her way home.

She had to, because he truly could not imagine his life without her.

If she were gone forever, he would have nothing left to live for.

Chapter Text

His arrival in London was marked with little fanfare. He pulled up in his hired carriage, the footmen already unloading his luggage and taking it inside, presumably to his old room. He passed Kate in the hallway on his way in, who merely said hello and nodded, carrying baby Miles and chasing a screaming Edmund down the hallway.

He’d decided to stay here, for the (hopefully) few days he would be in the city. He could not bear to stay in the home he shared with Pen, the space holding too many memories of her. Anthony had replied with a curt note affirming Colin’s plan and acknowledging that he would be there quite soon, so it hopefully didn’t come as too much of a surprise.

Now, for the conversation he’d dreaded the entire day’s long ride from Dover.

Colin braced himself for all the possibilities as he stood in front of the door to Anthony’s office at Bridgerton House. The wooden door was large and imposing, but it was the only barrier between the before and the after.

He could be sent to Bedlam.

He could be laughed at. And then sent to Bedlam.

He could be questioned for hours and asked for proof, which he wasn’t sure he could provide. He could only use Pen’s past behaviors as evidence without her actual presence, and he wasn’t quite sure it would be enough. It’s not as though she were here to provide a living example.

If he used his words correctly, he could be taken seriously.

Based on his last few weeks and the dumb things that had spilled forth from his mouth, he had little faith he could do so.

But he had to try.

So, he knocked.

“Enter,” a stern voice said from inside.

Colin pushed the door open and nervously peeked his head inside before stepping in and shutting it behind him. Anthony sat at his large desk, papers scattered about in vague piles as he signed something with a large feather quill. When he looked up at him, Colin noted the deep circles beneath his eyes.

“Ah, you’ve arrived,” Anthony said as a way of greeting.

“I have. You look tired, brother.”

“Yes, I’m trying to organize the family accounts, no small feat with seven siblings, and Edmund has decided that because Miles will no longer sleep through the night, he does not need to either. I rarely get more than five hours of sleep on a good day,” he sighed, leaning back to rub at his eyes.

“The joys of children, I’m sure,” he tried to laugh. “I trust you received my letter?”

“Four days ago, yes. I don’t understand all the secrecy. And where is your wife?” he asked, standing up and moving away from his work.

“That’s what I’m here to speak with you about,” he started. They stood in front of Anthony’s good scotch, placed on a table with two chairs to either side. He’d often sat in those chairs for a variety of reasons; he’d been raked over the coals for some stupid thing he did at Eton, he cried as his brother told him it was a terrible idea to become a sailor, and he fought Pen and his wish to marry her.

He supposed he could finally add, “telling Anthony that Pen is a mermaid” to the list after today, though he was still unsure of the direction this conversation would turn.

Anthony groaned. “Did you say something idiotic?”

“Well, actually yes,” Colin replied.

“Where is she?” Anthony asked again.

Colin braced himself, going over the words in his head that he needed to say.

“We should sit down,” he gestured to the chairs and the decanter of scotch on the table between them.

“Is it truly that bad?” Anthony jested, taking a chair and a glass. Colin poured himself and his brother a few fingers of liquor and took the other seat.

“Please take seriously what I’m about to say next,” Colin stated gravely.

Anthony looked quite confused at his tone. “Yes, get on with it.”

Thoughts swirled around in his head; all the possible ways he could start this conversation were suddenly not good enough. Does he start from the beginning? Does he explain that Pen is missing, and then say why? Does he leave out the mermaid part and say she was taken by pirates, or would that be even more unrealistic than the whole mythical creature thing?

“Penelope is a mermaid, and she was stolen back by her family when she went swimming in the sea at our cottage,” he blurted out all in one rush.

Shit.

Absolutely none of that was what he wanted to say first.

“I—what?” his brother sputtered, nearly spitting out his drink mid-sip.

Colin stood up and started pacing around the room frantically, his hands waving in each direction as he ranted.

“I swear, it is the truth, as outlandish as it may seem. I don’t know how to get her back, and that’s why I’m here. I said some stupid, hurtful things during an argument, and she went swimming, and her mother was waiting for her, not to mention that her mother was the one who tattled on my liquor business—”

“’Business’ is not the correct word for what you—”

“And there’s some other merman named Nimrod Fife who wants to marry her even though I’m already married to her but she said something about human-mermaid marriages not being valid where she’s from and I waited for a long while to see if she would come back but now I need to go find her and I need a boat and a crew and I think Phil will help me but I don’t even know if she’s still in Devil’s Port and she probably isn’t and—”

“COLIN!”

He finally stopped, taking a breath. He hadn’t realized he started crying, the tears silently rolling down his cheeks.

He looked down at Anthony, still sitting in his chair with his mouth hanging open.

“You are not going to have me sent to Bedlam, are you?” he asked quietly.

“Sit down,” he ordered, and Colin complied immediately.

“Unfortunately, I can’t prove it to you now, but if you help me find Penelope—”

“I will help you if you just be quiet for a moment and let me process this rather extraordinary information and allow me to think,” he snapped.

Colin froze in his chair, and waited for a few seconds before he quietly said, “So, you believe me?”

“Oh, I believe you.”

This startled Colin, his head snapping to attention. “You do?”

“As outlandish as it is, you make sense. You were so secretive about her origins, her lack of family, the whole matter of her atrocious handwriting—”

“She is much better now, and you know it!” he defended her.

“Not the point, Colin. There’s also her reluctance to leave your home whenever it rains, which I thought might be attributed to some sort of vanity, but Penelope is not really the type otherwise.”

“She changes at the slightest drop of water,” Colin explained, and Anthony looked a bit odd before he steeled his expression once more.

“I’ve truly never seen you more sober,” he noted.

“I’ve never been more determined about anything in my life.” Truly, he’d never felt anything like this before, this resolve and persistence he usually associated with Eloise, normally priding himself on his relatively easy-going nature. This was the one situation where ‘come what may’ would not do, and he needed to take back his control and his wife.

“Is that why there are no Featheringtons in Portofino?” his brother smirked.

Colin rolled his eyes. “Yes. The surname Featherington didn’t exist before that dinner.”

“So, she is not a prostitute?”

He snapped his head to him only to see a sly smirk on Anthony’s face.

It took quite a bit of strength to hold back from punching him or tossing his scotch at his smug look.

“Shut up before I tell Kate you’re being an ass,” he bit out. Anthony huffed a laugh into his drink, downing it in one go and clanking the glass down on the table.

“Right,” he started, all business. “How, exactly, am I to help? I am but a viscount, I cannot go with you. Do you even know where she is?”

“I waited for her, to see if she would make her own way out, but she never did. I need a boat, and funds, so I can sail around—”

“That’s your grand plan? Just sail around until you happen to run into her?” Anthony challenged him.

“I know where she might be. She could still be in Devil’s Port, and I know where she used to live in Italy and Greece. I thought they might try to go back there,” Colin defended himself.

“And if she isn’t there?” he questioned.

If Anthony could only be one thing, he would be unsure of the practicality of how his siblings used money.

“Then I will have to find more merfolk and talk to them, see if they know anything.”

“How do you find them?”

“I think I know where they hide. Pen told me a lot about them.”

She told him of every place she’d ever lived, and nearly every human or merperson she’d ever spoken with, every merchant and street musician and singer hiding their fishy secret. If they weren’t quite sure who Pen was, then they would absolutely remember her mother and be able to say if they’d seen her recently.

“And what if they don’t know anything?”

“Then I will ask them where I can find more of their kind. And if they won’t tell me, I will sail every mile of ocean, every inch of the sea until I know where she is.”

Anthony’s gaze softened at his words. “You truly will not give this up, will you?”

“If Kate were to go missing, would you not go to the ends of the earth to find her again?”

Anthony pondered a moment. “I would. Of course, I would bring her home by any means necessary. All I’m asking is that you have a plan in place—”

“I have a plan! I just told you my plans A, B, and C, and I’m currently trying to form a plan D, just in case.”

“And what assurance do you have that she hasn’t escaped herself and is currently trying to find you?”

Colin, of course, had thought of the possibility that she might escape on her own and make her own way back to England. While not ideal, he would not put it past her to take matters into her own hands. She never was one to wait around for help if she could figure things out for herself. She had magic, quite the stubborn streak, and a quick-thinking mind he greatly admired, and it was not out of the realm of possibility for her to pull some trick or hatch some plan to escape.

“I could only be in one of two places. I waited for days for her in Dover, and now I am in London. Should she escape, she would eventually make her way back to the city and find someone here that could contact me. She knows how to find both Number 5 and Bridgerton House, not to mention our own home in Bloomsbury.” Colin paused, thinking for a moment. “At this point, however, I doubt she could leave. There is a very good chance she’s been married off to that merman, and God knows what that would mean for her.”

“Would she be safe?”

“I doubt they would hurt her, physically anyway. She would be miserable though. She was always…a bit strange, according to what she’s told me of her previous life.”

They sat quietly for a few moments.

“Do you want to talk about how it happened? I know it couldn’t have been just anything, as beaten up as you seem about it.”

“No,” Colin said sternly. “Not right now, anyway. I…I will say I said some things that I regret. And not just because Pen was taken. I regretted them the moment I said them.”

And he needed to apologize.

“I’m sure Penelope knows you didn’t mean it.”

“I can’t be sure of that. I must tell her. I must make sure she knows I love her more than anything, and I would literally do anything to talk to her just one more time.”

Anthony poured himself some more liquor.

“You will have to work to pay me back, you know,” he said carefully.

“I thought you might say so,” Colin sighed, resigned.

“You can run half the estates until I see the debt sufficiently paid off.”

Colin was shocked. He had no experience with farms or estates. Surely, it would be more work for Anthony to teach him all the ins and outs rather than just do it himself and allow Colin to pay back the funds in his own way and on his own schedule.

“Anthony, I know nothing of—”

“Oh, tosh. You’ve run ships for years now, it cannot be much different from an estate. You will only deal with meat and wheat rather than precious stones and alcohol.”

“I don’t know how to rotate crops, or how to manage a herd of cattle, or how to collect taxes from tenants, or—”

“Do you want my help, or not?” Anthony stated, bluntly.

Colin, once again, appeared to have little choice in the matter if he wished to find Penelope.

“Fine. But let me run it from wherever I choose. I can’t have Pen landlocked for too long.” Perhaps if he could stay in London or another little cottage by the sea, she would not be too miserable.

“Will she die, or something?” his brother inquired, only half serious, though Colin was not in the mood for levity.

“No, she won’t bloody die. She just hates it. She hates being stuck in the city, trapped inside by the rain. That’s why we left in the first place.”

The door swung open.

“Pen is a mermaid?”

Eloise stood there, half in the hallway and half in the study, her brow furrowed and her stance wide and determined. She wore a gown of sage silk, evidently prepared for dinner.

“How long have you stood outside listening to us?” Colin accused her.

“I heard you were here in London, and visiting with Anthony, so I came to find you and Pen. Is what you say the truth?” she asked.

Colin did not wish to hide it from his wife’s best friend any longer, so he took this as an opportunity.

“Yes, it is. You can’t tell anyone—”

“Why didn’t she tell me? Didn’t she trust me?” Eloise burst out. She pushed forward into the study, pacing in much the same manner as her brother earlier.

“She was going to explain everything to you when you came to visit us in Dover. You were first on her list of people that needed to know her secret. That won’t be happening, unfortunately. She’s—”

“Missing. Yes, I heard that too. Her mother stole her back. And your grand plan is to just sail around and hope you run into her,” she quipped.

“It’s a bit more methodical than that. I do know of some places she might be, and some people I could speak with.”

“But if that doesn’t turn up anything…” Eloise trailed off, gesturing for him to continue.

“Then I will sail every ocean, every sea, every lake, every pond for the rest of my life until I find her again.”

Colin could see the wheels turning in his sister’s mind.

“I’m coming with you.”

“Absolutely not,” Anthony said sternly, in that booming voice he used to assert his older-brother-authority over his siblings.

Eloise, unfortunately, often took that tone as a challenge rather than a warning.

Though, Colin had to agree with him, for once. “Eloise, a boat is no place for a lady—”

“Penelope was on your boat for a month when you brought her here. Your crew was full of men of all sorts, and she was perfectly safe and happy.”

“El—”

“And now you tell me she’s a mermaid and her mother stole her back from you and you expect me to not help you find her? You truly expect me to just, wait around here in London, worrying for her and her wellbeing? Did you not say that she could be married off to some boor of a—a merman?”

“It would be incredibly stupid for you to go out to sea. It is quite unsafe for women.”

“Says who?”

“Every man on a boat.”

“Every man. I could pretend to be a boy if that would make you feel better.”

Colin leaned back in his chair, eyes closed. He was aware of how stubborn his sister could be, but he did not think this would be such an issue. Once she sunk her teeth into a notion, she could rarely be persuaded to part from it.

“You really won’t give this up, will you? I’ll find you as a stowaway or something if I won’t let you aboard.”

He met her unfaltering steely gaze. “You will. I must help, Colin. I can’t imagine what her family is putting her through, how alone she must feel. I must do something. I can’t sit by idly, waiting for you to find her. I have to try.”

He could not find anything to counter her words, because they were so like his own.

“Fine. You can pretend to be a boy, my younger brother if need be.”

Eloise exhaled in relief, smiling.

“But only for a few months, while I check the known places.”

Her face fell. “But—”

“As much as I know you want to leave and travel and see the world, it is dangerous even for me to sail unknown waters for the first time. I will not put your safety at risk for longer than necessary or bring you with me into the complete mystery that is the open sea. You are still my sister, and as annoying as you are I still love you, and I would never forgive myself if any harm came to you.”

Anthony looked uneasy. “Colin, can you be sure—”

“I will protect her with my life, Anthony. On my honor as a sea captain, and as a Bridgerton, I will not let anything happen to her.”

“You better send me updates bi-weekly,” he ordered.

“I shall send them myself,” Eloise stated proudly.

“And I shall send my own, as well, so you will always know where I am,” Colin assured his brother.

“I know that is not exactly for my own benefit, but I thank you anyway,” he said. “Now, have you thought about how you will explain all of this to Mama?”

Colin had not.

He had a few more plans to draft.

~

Phillip, by the grace of God, was in London at the moment.

Colin walked into the British East India Company dock offices to a few sideways glances and glares, but no one dared to say anything. He strode into Phillip’s office and found the man sitting there, staring at paperwork. A collection of potted plants decorated the single window, the light shining through some of the green leaves. He looked up at the sound of footsteps at his door and gasped.

“Colin!” he exclaimed.

“Hello, Phil,” Colin greeted him with a smile, wringing his hands together with nerves.

“Are you not meant to be in Dover at the moment, living in a beachside cottage with your wife?” he inquired, gesturing at the chair across from him. Colin took a seat.

“I am, but I’m afraid there’s been…something happened, Phil.”

His brows furrowed at Colin’s uncharacteristically serious tone. “What?”

“Let me start from the beginning.”

Colin spent the next hour recounting the entire story of how he met Penelope, from falling off the boat the first time, the desert island, the rowboats to nowhere, the storm last autumn where he fell off the boat again and picked her up, all of it. Phillip listened carefully, only asking a question or two when he needed clarification but otherwise, he silently took in Colin’s tale. When he got to the point where Pen was taken by her mother and Fife, Phillip finally looked up at him again.

“So, you see, I need a boat,” Colin said plainly.

“And that’s why you’re here,” Phillip guessed correctly.

“Yes.”

“Because you trust me with this information and I have access to an adequately sized vessel that could sail around for months, feasibly in any sort of weather or conditions.”

“Yes.”

“You do realize how insane you sound?” Phillip joked. The normally serious man spoke lightly in response to all he’d just heard. Colin had no doubt he believed him, though he wasn’t sure how much time he would need to fully accept everything he’d just heard.

“I do. And I hope you know me well enough that you realize that at this moment I am the most sane I’ve ever been.”

Phillip sighed. “I do. Unfortunately.”

“So, you will help me? I can fund it, whatever you need.” After making his deal with Anthony, he could use whatever money he required, to whatever ends.

“You know I don’t own my boat, correct?”

He did. Phillip had taken over the Lady Whistledown after Colin’s retirement, and it was owned by the company.

“I know that. But surely, as Captain, you would have no objections to me working as part of your crew and perhaps making a few undocumented stops along the way.”

As first mate, he’d never said more than a few cross words with an eye roll at Colin’s own antics.

“Just as crew?”

“As whatever you see fit. Though, I suppose cook would likely be the worst position, as inept with a flame as I am.”

“And what if the rest of the crew knows who you are?” Phillip inquired.

“I can pay them off, too.”

“With what money?”

“My brother’s. With the stipulation that I run several of the farms until I have paid him back,” he explained.  

Phil laughed. “That sounds rather boring for you.”

“It does. However, if that is what I must do for my wife, then I shall endure.”

They were silent for a few seconds. Colin stared at his hands and tried to remember to breathe as Phil contemplated the plan.

“And so shall she, when we find her.”

Colin inhaled sharply.

“So you will help?” he asked, hopeful.

“Of course, I will. How could I not play a part in this grand romance of yours?” Phillip approved.

“Oh, Phil,” he stood up, moving around the desk to shake his hand vigorously, “you are a true friend, the best of men.”

“It shall be of little inconvenience,” he brushed him off. “And truthfully, that woman was the best of you. Without her, you’re likely to go back to floundering about, unsure of where to go.”

There was a moment’s pause.

I should probably disclose that little bit of information as well…

“And one more thing…my sister insisted on coming with me.”

“Colin…” Phillip warned, his brows furrowing. “You know I can’t have a woman aboard—”

“She will be masquerading as a man. Eloise and Pen are best friends, so she would likely make her way aboard by any means necessary if I did not agree to let her help us.”

He sighed, closing his eyes, and trying to hide his resignation. “Would she make a convincing boy?”

“She certainly has the temperament and bravado of a boy if that’s what you’re asking. As for the hair, I’m sure she can stuff it into a hat.”

Phil sighed. “Fine. But you are responsible—”

“For her safety, yes. I already heard that speech from my brother.”

“Very well then,” Phillip said, standing up from his desk. “Let’s go find your wife.”

Chapter Text

Colin awoke, as he had each morning (or evening, depending on his shift) incredibly tired and longing for the cozy captain’s cabin that no longer belonged to him.

Here, on his old boat, he went by Nick, a seasoned sailor traveling with his green brother George. Eloise, for her part, took everything in stride, and adapted quickly to life aboard a ship. Those that knew him before had to be paid off handsomely for their discretion and silence, but surprisingly few of his old crew remained. He worked as a boatswain, lifting and lowering the sails as needed, and Eloise found herself swabbing the deck much of the time, her ‘scrawny boy’s body’ deemed too delicate for any ‘real man’s work.’ For once in her life she did not complain, keeping her head down and treating the other seamen with respect.

After a few days aboard, the men started to call him ‘Big Nick’ and Eloise ‘Georgie Boy’, so he would say they both were fitting in well.

Phillip, of course, knew Eloise’s true identity, and for his part, he did use his powers as Captain to keep it hidden as best he could. He brushed off comments about her not pissing off the deck like the others, saying, “Georgie Boy is a bit shy, is all. One voyage at sea is sure to toughen him up.” Eloise took all their jibes and pokes at her small stature and her quiet nature in stride, her quick wit and penchant for insults coming in handy for once in her life. Colin noted just how closely Phil watched her, especially as she worked in a heavy wind that caused the boat to list to each side more than usual, ready to pounce should she start to slip overboard. Phillip constantly ensured her safety, telling her to go below deck during storms and giving her jobs that held very little chance of danger, like helping the cook chop potatoes or helping the first mate do sums to keep track of their rations.

They slept in the same bunk beds together when their schedules lined up, which Eloise was not exactly fond of but Colin insisted upon it since there was not exactly another option. She took the top slot (for that’s all that it was, really, a slot in the wall with a thin mattress and a blanket), and he took the bottom. They’d rarely found any time to speak to one another as brother and sister; after each stop, they attempted to sneak away to some dark corner behind a barrel of salt beef to talk about what they discovered while at port, but their conversations were often short and interrupted.

After a month and more than a dozen cities, they had very little news. After a few tries he found it easier and easier to inquire after a woman “of a special sort, one that is rather fond of the sea” and he would either receive questions about a lady pirate or the person would catch on that the woman was not exactly completely human. He’d asked after Penelope wherever he could, and he was quite thankful that her height and hair made her distinctive enough that a few had recognized her and her name, though they had not seen her in years.

Their passage through Devil’s Port was entirely uneventful; according to a few others, the area had been quiet for a few weeks now. He made a point of standing by the deck railing for the entire passage, hoping that even if she could not come to him that perhaps she might fog up the air for them, but there was absolutely no sign of her, or her pod.

Pen, he knew, could not be there anymore.

So they sailed on, through the Strait of Gibraltar and into the Mediterranean. Colin did his job and tried his best to ask questions whenever he found himself on land.

Ironically, they were stopped in Portofino now, the Italian city like something out of a fairy tale with pastel houses built on the side of a forested mountainside, bridges twisting through cobbled streets and trees arching out over rock, and perfect cerulean blue water that stretched from shore to horizon. The buildings that lined the harbor, painted in shades of salmon, turquoise, peach, coral, and goldenrod, bustling with life, little storefronts and tables with couples eating seafood, boats floating in and out at all times of the day. The massive Lady Whistledown was too large to pull into the small dock, but they anchored with all the other merchant ships and took a little dingy into town.

Portofino did have a bustling merfolk population, Colin quickly discovered.

Most of these smaller seaside towns, unravaged by war and full of foreign tourists attracted them. It was easy for their kind to blend in with others, setting up shop each day and slipping back into the water at night. Penelope did spend some time here at one point, which is why he chose it as her fake hometown. He remembered her telling him of her little shop where she sold some of her treasures, as she called them, with her mother and sisters, usually just a few books and random pieces of paste jewelry. It was so easy for them to find things at the bottom of the sea, and they used the money to purchase food and nets for fishing.

Yesterday, he’d walked around to each stall on a quaint cobbled street, feeling the merchants out for anything he might consider suspiciously inhuman, looking at what they were selling to see if it could have once been at the seafloor. Between his terrible Italian language skills and just how many market stalls there were, it took all day, and the crew badgered him when he returned, wondering why he hadn’t helped with moving more inventory or gone to the brothel later that night. He referenced George, helping him out with his own tasks, and they laughed and left him alone.

Eloise had accompanied him the entire time, just watching as he asked questions about the origins of certain items, looking at him as though he was speaking a language other than Italian.

“Do you have any clues yet?” she’d asked him as they returned that evening before the others arrived back from their own fun.

“One man was off to me. He sold a random assortment, not like the others carefully curated stalls. He’s the best lead I’ve got. I’m going back tomorrow.”

“I’m c—”

“Yes, yes, you’re coming. I know.”

Now, the next morning, Colin found himself staring at the ceiling of his tiny sleeping quarters with Eloise snoring above him. He knocked his knees against the wood to wake her.

“AaahhHHh, whaa—?” she startled awake. He thought he heard her hands clump against the ceiling.

“Come on, let’s go,” he said, rolling onto the floor and standing up to watch her face. She even slept in a tight-fitting cap, hiding her hair, but it was rather askew on her head, and with the drool crusted on the corner of her mouth and her heavy-lidded eyes, she made quite the picture.

“We’re going to town before we leave port,” he stated. He crossed his arms at her indignant look and watched as she carefully slid down to stand in front of him, still half unconscious.

In the early morning, all of the stalls were closed. The shopkeepers set up, clanking around bits of metal, displaying lavish folds of silk fabric, ensuring that their glittering jewels would shine in the sunlight. Colin found the man he sought quickly, his stall at the edge of the long road.

“He speaks English, but I don’t need you asking too many questions, El.”

“But what if I—”

“No. We have to be careful about this. I don’t know if he is one of them yet, and I don’t want you mucking it up. You tend to just say whatever comes to mind first.”

“Fine,” she grumbled, crossing her arms as they strode up as casually as they could to the stall.

“Hello again, Phineas,” he greeted cheerfully.

“Hello. Nick, was it?” he asked. The man had red hair and a beard, his skin fairly pale against his dark clothing.

“Yes, that’s what I go by. I wished to inquire after…something.”

“Well, have at it,” Phineas said, busying himself with his work. On his table, he laid out all sorts of statuettes, made of what looked like marble and weathered by water. Colin found his eyes drawn to one of a mermaid, of course, sitting on a rock and looking very much like his wife, her full bottom and chest on display with a little smirk on her face.  

“Do you know where I might find a woman of a certain…persuasion?” he asked carefully as he touched the stone, tracing his finger along her fish tail. He could feel Eloise roll her eyes next to him without looking.

“As in…one a bit strange?” the man’s brows rose.

“Strange is a word one might use, yes. I think she would prefer I use distinctive…but I digress. She’s quite short, with bright red hair. Her name’s Penelope, and she might be what one considers…different, from the regular sort of girl,” Colin chose his words.

The man squinted, his lips thinning out into a line. “Penelope, you say? Really likes jewelry, and books, and tends to have her head in the sky? Her…she’s blue when she’s wet?”

Well, if Colin wasn’t certain before…

“Do you know her?” Eloise interjected. Colin shot her a glare.

“I do,” Phineas confirmed. “I’m guessing you know of her…affliction?”

“I am aware she’s a bit…fishy?”

Fishy, he thought. Very subtle.

Phineas laughed, now comfortable that the three of them were on the same page. “That’s one word for it. She was in my pod.”

“I’m guessing before her mother—”

“Royally fucked up? Yes.”

“Do you know where she is now? Or where she might be?”

He squinted his eyes suspiciously. “Hard to say. I know they left their place up north, but where they could be now is anyone’s guess. They keep to themselves.”

“So she is no longer in the Bay of Biscay?”

“No. I think her mother’s taken all of them somewhere around in the Mediterranean, likely on the fringes. Their little group is not exactly welcome here, though Penelope was always nice and sweet. I rather liked her.” Phineas glared at him.

“Thank you, thank you so much,” Colin rushed out, grateful for the best lead he’d had yet.

“If you keep asking around after Portia’s family, she’s likely to come looking for you. Not keen on humans, that one, and not afraid to use her magic,” the man warned.

“I know. It’s a risk I’m willing to accept, for Penelope.”

“Why are you interested in her, anyway? She never seemed like the type to settle for just any old man, and you don’t exactly seem special.”

“I must be special enough if she decided to marry me,” Colin defended himself. “I don’t know why she agreed either if I’m honest, but she’s my best friend, and I feel lost without her right now.”

“Wooo,” the man exhaled. “It’s tough, love between our kinds, as I’m sure you know.” Phineas looked him over for a moment, and then said, resigned, “If you’re willing to sail to every corner of the earth and risk her mother’s wrath, you’re either in love or insane.”

“Does love not make you a little crazy?” Colin smiled. “Does it not make you willing to do anything for them? Fight for them? Fight with them against the world?”

Once again, he could feel Eloise’s eyes on him, and he looked down at her to see her brow quirked at his declaration. He shrugged and turned back to the conversation.

“I have yet to find myself in love,” Phineas smirked, “but I’ll take your word for it. Go find your girl. I wish you the best. If I can, I’ll get the word out that you’re looking, to those who can help you. She deserves someone who cares for her more than life itself.”

“She does, doesn’t she?” Colin agreed. “You’ve been more than kind and didn’t have to be. Thank you.”

As they left, Colin felt better than he had in quite a few weeks. He felt this warm fluttering in his heart, spreading inside his chest and pushing his limbs to keep going, keep walking, keep trying.

He felt hope.

~

Phineas, true to his word, spread Colin’s inquiry far and wide as to the location of his wife.

He only had to mention a red-haired short woman in most cities, and he had notes slipped to him, telling him of the last time she was seen, if they’d spoken any time in the past few months, if they had an educated guess on where she could be now.

The consensus agreed that she was somewhere on the fringes, likely still near Spain, as unwelcome as her mother was in most circles. They were keeping quiet, not hiding from mermaids but trying to only interact within their own pod when they could.

Somewhere along the way his identity was revealed, and rather than little clues left for Nick the sailor, he found pieces of paper meant for Captain Colin Bridgerton. He wasn’t quite sure how it happened and thought perhaps he was recognized one too many times. He didn’t correct them in case word traveled back to Pen that some random bloke named Nick was looking for her rather than her husband, but he did worry that he would have to work harder at hiding who he was among the crew. Even if they didn’t know what Captain Bridgerton looked like, they certainly knew of the fame attached to the name.

A month after Portofino, the ship was on its way through the sea, stopping at various Italian cities, along with Corsica and Sardinia, never resting for more than a night on land, and usually choosing to stay offshore. They had yet to encounter anything of the likes of Devil’s Port, no storms from nowhere or fog that appeared within seconds. It was the talk of any bar or pub they entered, the sailors all remarking how easy the journey was to England now that they had no need to avoid the great stretch of sea, and how on edge they were, wondering if it might happen again with little warning.

Colin already told Phil that he would need to move quite slowly around the coast of Spain on their way back around. Should there be any sign of Pen or her family, he would fight whatever storm or magic or mermaid thrown at him to get to her.

There was one night, just past Sicily on the way to Malta where they hit a very bad patch of weather. The storm was so similar to what one would find in Devil’s Port that Colin nearly dove in the water before Eloise and Phil stopped him.

“This is just a regular storm!” Phil shouted over the crashing waves. “It came on slowly, not like the other ones! I know you are lovesick, but please keep your head on straight!”

Colin was incredibly thankful for Phil, truly, for keeping him grounded among all this espionage and secrecy. He did wonder if the other crew members thought him to be a spy for the English government, passing along messages to attempt (yet again) to get the best of Napoleon. It was a better explanation than the truth, he supposed.

In Malta they decided to linger for a few days, feeling safe enough in a Crown Colony to rest and recuperate. Or, to Colin and Eloise, try to make a few new fishy friends.

He hardly had to work at it. After a day of wandering markets and asking questions, he had a note waiting for him at the inn when he woke up the next morning. It gave a time and place, and though he felt a bit gullible he arrived at the dock right on time later that evening.

“You Captain Bridgerton?” a gruff voice asked. Colin turned around to see someone standing there in a ridiculous green cloak, lined with bright blue silk and held together with a jeweled clasp, the large hood pulled over his head, trying to be inconspicuous in the most obvious way he’d ever seen.

“I am, yes. You are…?” he trailed off.

“Debling, you can call me,” he said, pulling the hood down to reveal a man with blond hair, blue eyes, and a long oval face. “There’s word going around my kind that you’re looking for Penelope.”

“She’s my wife. Her mother took her back, and I’m trying to find her again.”

“I know. You’re the talk of the sea, the captain trying to take back his mermaid wife,” the man explained. “There are some that don’t believe you, you know, some that think you just want to take a mermaid and put her away in some tank for your own entertainment.”

This was news to Colin. He hadn’t heard anything about his potential for nefariousness. “I could never do—”

“I know. I don’t think you could, meeting you now. You’re just…you want your wife back,” he said sympathetically.  

“I do. More than anything.”

“I know where she is,” Debling stated bluntly.

“You do?” Colin hoped.

“You probably sailed right over her. She’s of the south coast of Spain, about right in the middle of the Alboran Sea.”

Colin squinted. “How can you be sure?”

“I saw her. I was just there, doing some business. She seemed rather quiet.”

“Was there a man named Fife there?” Colin asked. It hurt him deeply to think that Pen might be forced on that cad…

“There was. He sat next to her, but she seemed rather annoyed by him, never looking at his face.”

“They weren’t married or anything?”

“Not as far as I could tell, no.”

“Thank God,” he sighed in relief. “Could you show me on a map where she is?”

Debling drew a circle of their territory. “Caused a right big squabble when they settled there. Portia and her daughters were booted from the Mediterranean a few years ago now, and when they resurfaced over there we, meaning the collective of us living in these waters you see, all said they would have to abide by our rules or we would have a bit of trouble. We don’t exactly like their methods of dealing with humans. They seem to have kept quiet, though.”

“Thank you,” Colin said. “I just…why are you helping me?”

“It doesn’t hurt me to help you two,” he said simply. “Not every day a man would sail around the world for a woman or a mermaid. You clearly have no qualms with our kind, and pose us no danger.”

“No. I just want my wife.”

“And, quite frankly, that mother of hers is something else. Penelope never did fit the mold she had for her daughters.”

“Penelope has a hard time fitting any mold,” Colin laughed.

“Portia can be quite…controlling. And volatile, in the right conditions. You need to be careful. She’s protective of them and will likely try to stop you. I think she’s aware that you are looking. How are you going to get to Penelope?”

“It’s a bit of a story…but that boat I came in on, the Lady Whistledown, is very recognizable to her. I’m hoping that if she sees it, she will know I’m nearby. I’m hoping she already knows I’m near, to be honest, if she is where you say she is.”

“I swear on my life, that’s where she’s been for some time now.”

“At least two months?”

“Probably more like three, if my memory is correct.”

“So that means we sailed right over her on our way into the sea. She knows I’m here, and, I can only hope that she’s looking out for the boat and will know when I try to stop again that it’s me and she can break away. She’s smart, and I know she’s planning a way to get out, whether I showed up or not, and when she saw the Lady Whistledown she likely decided to wait for it to come back around so she could make her escape.”

“You think you can know her every thought like that?” Debling’s eyebrows rose.

“Yes. She’s my wife, and my best friend, and I love her, and though I cannot hear her thoughts I can read them on her face and I think I know her well enough to think like she would. She’s waiting for me. I know it.”

It’s like everything started to fall into place at once. If Pen knew he was in the Mediterranean, she knew he was looking for her. Even if she didn’t know he was on the Lady Whistledown, she knew it was Philip who captained it, and she knew that Colin would tell Philip about her as soon as he could.

He trusted that she would put the pieces together.

He hoped she trusted him to hold up his end of his plan.

“Thank you, Debling. You just made me happier than I’ve been in a long while.”

“If you really want to thank me, you can do something about Portia,” he said gruffly, “but if you can get your wife back, I suppose that would be satisfying enough.”

Colin waved him off and took the long way back to the inn, watching the sun set over the water and feeling the sea air wash over his sweaty skin, still warm in the summer air.

It’s like he could hear her laugh in the wind. He could feel her standing next to him, grasping for his hand as she pointed to the horizon to show him a flock of seabirds, and in the same breath she would turn to him and ask if they could stop by the bakery for one of the fresh loaves of bread that smelled so delicious as they passed the open door. The sky was nearly cloudless, only a few catching the last rays of light and turning from yellow to red to purple against a navy sky, and he knew she would say something about not worrying about rain for once, and he would say that a rainless day in England was a rare thing indeed, and they would laugh.

She felt close enough to touch, and he longed to have his friend by his side again.

~

Back in the inn, he found Eloise and drug her up the stairs and into Phil’s room for a very urgent meeting.

“Did you find something?” Eloise asked, barely keeping up as he took the steps two at a time.

“I know where she is,” he stated, rounding the landing and quickly finding the captain’s door.

As they barged inside, Phil was startled from his work, his eyes meeting Colin’s but lingering on Eloise. “Do you need something?” he asked gently, a harsh contrast to the determination on Colin’s face and the confusion on Eloise’s.

Colin thrust the map onto his nightstand that he used as an impromptu desk, slapping it on top of ledgers and interrupting him. “Here, she’s right here. We need to go—”

“That ink was very wet, you know,” he informed him as he perused the coordinates. “We sailed right over her on our way into the Mediterranean.”

“Yes, and there were no storms; apparently, they are being forced to keep quiet otherwise they will be tossed out again. If we go now—"

“We will go on our way back around,” Phil said. Colin’s brow furrowed.

“What? Phil, I know where she is. She could leave at any point, she could be taken away or married off to that Fife fellow or—”

“I still have a job to do, Colin. If I am not allowed to do it, then we’ll all be in trouble. We are to go to Crete, then Rhodes, then Cyprus, then Egypt, then Algiers, and on our way to Gibraltar we can take a day to stop and find her.”

As Phil listed off locations, Colin’s face fell further and further. “That will take months!”

“Probably two of them, yes.” Phil sighed. “I can’t make concessions here, Colin, even for you. It would be suspicious to the crew, and to those expecting us in each country.”

“He’s right, Colin,” Eloise interjected. “If you want a chance at this, we can’t be hasty.”

“But—”

“I want her back just as much as you, Colin, and if this is our only shot then we can’t fuck it up.”

The two men stared at her in silence, their eyes wide and mouths hanging open.

“Oh, come off it,” she brushed their stunned looks off. “I’ve been on this boat for quite some time now, you can’t expect me to not pick up a few new words.”

“You better not let Mama hear you,” Colin smiled.

“We will get her back, Colin. We just need to wait,” Eloise exhaled, and wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

Colin returned her affection, resting his head atop hers. “I know.”

He did.

He still didn’t like it.

Chapter Text

The waiting was the worst, truly.

By the time they left Alexandria, Colin felt restless.

They stopped once more in Malta, and Colin could not settle himself into his comfortable bed, constantly asking Phil if they were ready to leave again. For three days he waited and waited and waited. Even Eloise tried to get him to head to a pub for a night of food and drinking, but he couldn’t make himself. It’s like he was in a careful balance, and if he tipped too far over his mind would collapse with worry and fear and want.

Finally, after leaving Algiers, Phil took him aside. “It will be tomorrow when we reach the spot on the map. How do you want to do this?”

“I thought there might be some sort of storm, like before. They know your ship.”

“We sailed nearly right over them before, and there was nothing.”

“That’s true. We should still prepare for one, since I’m not sure what will happen when they realize who I am. I’ll probably just row out in a boat, and hope Pen can see me and try to escape.”

“Is that really the smartest idea? To be out there alone, with no help at all?”

“I suppose you’re right. How will she know I’m there, though?”

“You said it yourself. She knows the boat. If you stand at the railing, that should be enough for her to see you.”

 “Right,” he agreed. “Right.”

It was all real, and yet he felt like he didn’t inhabit his own body, like his mind was preparing himself already for this all to go wrong.

Colin could barely sleep the night before The Big Day, as he referred to it in his head. At one point Eloise asked him to “please stop moving around down there, I can hear you sigh every time you turn over,” so he laid as still as he could for an hour while she fell asleep, and then resumed his anxious rolling around in his bunk.

Despite his anxious mind, he must have slept at some point because he jolted awake suddenly, his eyes snapping open as his lungs inhaled a deep breath of air. He felt exhausted, and on edge, and like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

As he placed his feet on the wood floor, his bare toes against the rough surface, his head bent so he didn’t knock himself out on El’s bunk, and he longed for the cup of coffee that awaited him at breakfast. It would be an effort to be normal today, so he hoped routine would keep him sane these last few hours before they arrived.

His porridge felt even more tasteless in his mouth than usual, though he wasn’t sure if it was his mood or because they’d started to run out of salt and sugar. He washed it down with his ration of grog, the alcohol helping him to feel a bit lighter as he started his work for the day. He tapped out the night boatswain and got started, helping shift the sails from side to side as needed to catch the wind.

After only an hour, Phil pulled him aside. “Are you doing well enough?”

“As well as I could be. Working helps.”

“It will be another two hours or so until we are there if the winds hold. I’m not sure if they will null them once we enter their territory or not.”

“Me either.”

He fell into the rhythm of pulling ropes and pushing booms to each side of the deck. Again, and again, and again, he pushed and pulled and coiled and tugged, sweat rolling down his face in the heat of the day. He didn’t know how long he worked, he just did, he just moved and continued and took each minute for what it was. They sang shanties to pass time, like they always did, their voices filling the white noise of the sea.

“Hey.”

Colin, shirtless and covered in a sticky, sweaty sheen, looked up from the massive rope he was coiling by hand.

“Is it time?” he asked bluntly.

Phil pressed his lips together before saying, “Yes. You should clean up. I doubt your wife wants to see you for the first time in months sweaty and covered in oil.”

“I don’t think she would mind,” he smiled, “but you’re right. I’ll wipe down.”

He went through the motions in a daze, and he felt as the ship slowed and stopped. With a fresh shirt and back up on deck, he saw the sails were pulled in and most of the crew was listening to Phil speak.

“We have some business here. We will still make it to shore by tonight, but for a few hours we need to float along slowly.”

None of this felt real; Colin didn’t feel like his body belonged to himself, he spoke with Eloise and Phil and heard them as though through a pane of glass.

“Keep your head on.”

Phil came up behind him and smacked him on the back, jostling him from his prison of a mind as he stared at a single point on the horizon. He gave the man a grateful nod, took a deep breath, and squeezed his hands at his sides. He felt the blood rushing through his body, felt his chest fill will air, felt his feet in his shoes, heard the waves crash on the boat and smelled the salt in the air.

It was time.

He waited, and waited, and waited, for fog, rough seas, or a sign of any sort of merfolk, but none came. The skies stayed blue, the seas stayed calm, the winds cooled their skin, and they continued as normal. Colin stood at the rails the entire time, a few of the men grumbling about him not doing his job but keeping quiet after a harsh glare from their captain.

“Should we anchor for a few hours?” Phil came up to ask him. “The sea is not so deep here.”

“If you agree, I think we should,” Colin said, and before long they were dead in the water.  

This could be dangerous; if Portia truly held a vendetta against him, they were sitting ducks. If she decided to start up a storm, then they would have to wait it out and risk losing their boat or their crew.

But this was the best way for Pen to see that the boat was there, and it was acting strangely, and he was standing at the bow waiting for her.

Well, more accurately, he walked in a circle around the whole deck, peering down into the water, searching for a sign. He felt tense, methodically scanning the surface and trying to see a flash of anything down below. The crew waited around, having their mid-day meal and grog, watching him as he paced.

He was quickly losing hope. An hour later, with the men wishing to move on so they could return home, he pushed them to just wait a little longer.

“I’m looking for something. I swear, we will make it to a port tonight. Just…let me do what I need to do.”

“Right, Nick,” they all grumbled, and started up a game of cards.

Waiting and waiting and wanting and longing and hoping and praying to a God he only sort of believed in.

They needed to leave soon if they hoped to make it to port before dark.

“Colin,” he heard Phil’s somber voice behind him. “We—”

“Five more minutes,” he pleaded.

He heard footsteps behind him that slowly quieted.

The sea was mysteriously calm, more than when the first stopped. No white caps, but the wind still kissed his skin, blowing his hair across his face. It was odd.

He leaned over a railing, scanning the horizon once more, roving over the deep blue water, looking for something, anything that would indicate there was even a fish in the vicinity—

A head of red hair.

No.

Four.

He waved his hands around to the confoundment of the rest of the crew.

“Hey! Hey!” he shouted, and smiled as the four heads slowed down and he saw pale faces peek from the waves. Their hair floated around them, just the same shade of red as his wife’s.

They didn’t say anything, just watched.

“I’m looking for Penelope!” he yelled, the ship still floating off though the sails were dropped.

“Penelope?” one of them said, surprised.

“I’m Colin. You must be her family, for you look just like her.”

“You are Colin?” the oldest one, likely her mother Portia, inquired.

“I am. I came to take her back. Please, where is she if not with you?”

The mermaid that spoke first darted under the water. “Felicity!” another shouted, probably Prudence or Philippa, and followed her.

The two left did not answer Colin, however. They merely stared at him, only their eyes out of the water.

“Please,” he begged, “I miss my wife. I want my wife back. I love her. I came all this way to find her. I’m sure you know by this point that I’ve been looking, asking around where she might be. Please, please, I need her.”

He felt his tenuous grip on himself start to slip as he babbled. He must be crying, he knew, but he couldn’t feel his face. It was as though he were made of a mist, ready to disperse should they reject him. Still, even at his immense display of loyalty and emotion, they did not respond in the slightest.

“I know you must love her too, as tightly as you hold her. I know you must not trust me, taking her away without asking, but we both wanted this. I would never go against Penelope’s wishes, I would never break her trust, and I would never endanger her in any way. I am here now because I am a selfish man, and I have to have her with me, because I don’t know if I can live without her laugh, her smile, her wit, the music she brings to my life. You can come to visit us, or not see us ever again, or whatever you want, as long as I can be with Penelope for the rest of my life.”

Silence.

It was painful, but he didn’t move, hardly dared to breathe lest he scare them off. One of them appeared again, the one that chased after Felicity, but still, they just looked at him. As far as he knew they could not communicate in their minds, so it must be that the younger daughters waited for their mother to speak.

Finally, she did.

“Why should you care?” Portia loudly asked. A crowd of men had gathered at the railing, their eyes wide as they looked at the women in the water.

“I just explained—”

“We have never had a very good experience with your kind before, human. What reason do we have to trust you?”

“You don’t. You really don’t I know that. I don’t expect you to ever trust humans, truly. I’m only asking you to trust me. Colin Bridgerton. A former captain of this very boat, who met with your daughter for years before she ever came home with me. If I wanted to do something by now, I would have. And I swear to never reveal anything, I know how important it is to keep your secrets.”

“Why are you so attached to her?” Portia asked.

“Because I love her,” he said simply. “I did not know what love was truly like before Penelope. I did not know what it was to care so deeply for another being, to feel a hole in your life that you did not know existed before their presence filled it. I did not know one could fall for their very best friend, that love was not this wild, untamable thing that came on quickly and plowed over everything in your life. I did not know that love could be so quiet that it could slip in unnoticed, go unseen until it became so big that you could no longer ignore it.” He could feel the eyes of each man on deck on him, which was a feat considering there were three mermaids in the ocean below. He continued, needing to finish his thought, “I now know that to love is to be home, and home is wherever Penelope is.”

“So I should just let you have her? A few pretty words and I should give her to you?”

“Was she ever really yours to give?” he cried. “Or did she make the choice to give herself to me? Do you know who she is at all? How strong and passionate she is, how even now she could never belong to anyone but herself?”

They didn’t seem to have anything to say to that. Colin’s knuckles turned white and his hands went numb as he gripped the wood railing, digging his nails in so hard it made his fingers buzz. They did not leave, just stared at him more, unsettling him.

He heard a few of the men gasp behind him, but he did not look away, holding their gaze, determined.

Distracted by the mermaids, he didn’t see it coming.

“Colin!” Phil shouted, peering into his spyglass and completely forgoing the fake name. “We have a problem!”

The mermaids swam away with a mere splish in the water and a glint of scales below the surface.

As Colin moved to Phil, he didn’t need a spyglass to see the massive boat moving toward them at a breakneck speed, and the black flag with some sort of design on it flying on their mainmast.

“Pirates!” Phil shouted.

There was a flurry of movement all around, men going below deck to man their four cannons and pass up their guns as they loaded them. Pirates did not often want to fight, but rather than take the risk, they prepared for a battle.

Their anchor was dropped, their sails down, they were dead in the water and the easiest target these pirates would see all year. Even if they could get the sails up in time, and weigh anchor, there is no way their boat would build up enough speed to outrun them.

“Eloise, where is Eloise?” he frantically asked Phil.

“Shit, I don’t know, I don’t know,” he panicked, fear lacing his words. Colin’s stomach fell, and he started to frantically scan the men working, but his sister was so much shorter that he knew he would have a difficult time finding her.

Men moved below deck and back above, they loaded gunpowder and hauled cannonballs around, and a few even stopped to kneel for a moment and pray, their eyes closed and their mouths moving with silent words. He flicked from man to man, registering their face quickly and moving to the next when he saw it was not his sister. He hoped she was still in her bunk, and was smart enough to stay down there when she realized there was a commotion.

But, of course, because she’s Eloise, she could not do that.

He spotted her as soon as she stepped onto the deck, stuffing some of her hair back into her cap as she glanced around, trying to figure out what was going on. She looked rather confused by the presence of all the guns about.

“Eloise!” he shouted her name. No one seemed to notice, however, as they were too engrossed in their own tasks as he strode over to her.

“What is going on? I heard a bunch of noise, and I expected that you would have brought Pen aboard—"

“Eloise, hide!” he ordered, pushing her over to the stairs.

“What? Why? You can’t expect me to just—”

“It is not Pen. We found her family, but unfortunately, some pirates also found us. You need to go below deck and hide, right now before they can see you.”

“Where? This ship is not large—”

“She can hide in a barrel,” Phil interrupted them, shoving her roughly down into the hull. “There are a few empty ones now.”

“I don’t have to—”

“If you want to live, you do,” Phil stated darkly. “First sign of water on the boat, you hear even a trickle, you go over and find something that floats and swim north. You know how to find north?”

“Yes, with the sun,” she said, her eyes wide.

“It would only take one man to figure out that you are a woman, and most pirates are not respectable enough to keep their hands to themselves,” Colin explained. “I can’t have you taken from me too. Stay hidden, and quiet, and when it is safe I will find you, or Phil will. Chances are the boat won’t take damage, but if it does you save yourself. Do you understand me?”

The serious tone in his voice frightened her. “Of course. But what of you?”

“I will be fine knowing that you are safe,” he stated. “Take care of yourself first. Unfortunately I don’t know if I can do that as well as I should right now. We will likely have to do some negotiations, and I don’t want you to even be a factor in them.”

They found the storage room where they kept a lot of their food. Phil started to prepare a barrel for her to hide inside, taking the lid off and wedging it in a far corner. “Please, be safe Colin,” she begged. “And you too, Phillip,” she smiled at him.

He returned it, the sad grin tugging at the corners of his eyes. “Your barrel, my lady,” he said lightly, taking her hand and helping her to climb inside. “I won’t put the lid on tightly. You’ll just have to push a bit to open it up should you need to leave quickly.”

With Eloise as safe as she could be given the circumstances, they went above deck once more. The boat was closer, and the men had weighed anchor and hoisted the sails, he supposed in an effort to make their getaway faster when the whole affair was over. They probably wanted their inventory and would take as much of it as they could onto their own boat. When they discovered that the ship carried mostly luxury goods like uncut gemstones, rugs, bolts of silk, and artisan glassware from Italy, the pirates would likely not stop until every last item was on their own boat.

If Eloise was safe, none of it mattered.

Colin hoped Penelope, if she knew he was here, would stay away from the conflict until they were gone.

They would dock tonight, and they could come back tomorrow.

The crew continued to try to get their ship ready to run, but the pirates grew closer by the minute.

Their boat was much, much bigger than the Lady Whistledown.

Colin could hear their shouts as they pulled near and flung their hooks over to the Lady Whistledown’s deck, dozens of them at the same time. The crew tried to push them off, but with so many at once it was a losing game.

They knew if they didn’t fight, they would likely come out unharmed, so they stepped back and waited, guns at their sides.

The other men drew their boats close enough to lay some planks of wood between them, and half their crew walked over.

“Who’s the captain?” one of them asked. Colin could guess that he was the captain of his own boat.

“I am,” Phil said, stepping forward. Colin did not envy his position so much now; he’d never had to deal with pirates himself in his time.

“What sort you got?” the pirate asked, spitting a goo onto the deck, brown from the wad of tobacco in his lower lip.

“We have luxury goods. You’re welcome to all of it should you leave us unharmed.”

“Hmm,” he grunted, walking along the line of Lady Whistledown crew. He looked all of them in the eyes, and up and down their bodies.

“We can assist you—” Phil started, trying to keep the interaction moving forward.

“Hey!” the pirate stopped in front of Colin. “You look familiar.”

“Who? Me?” Colin said, surprised.

“You ever spend time on my crew?” he asked, staring into Colin’s eyes.

“Uh…” he hesitated.

“I know him!” one of the other men piped up. Colin looked over to see a man that used to work for him.

Oh, shit.

“He’s Captain Colin Bridgerton, sir,” the man explained.

“No, that’s not—” Colin tried to explain, but it was too late.

“That’s it! I’ve seen you in pubs all over, bragging about your boat and your riches and your captaining through Devil’s Port.”

“No—I’m not—”

“You are. Some captain now,” he smiled. “Whatchu doin’ working as a boatswain?”

“I’m not Colin—”

“Oi! Get some cuffs,” he ordered, and Colin saw one of the men scramble around on the other boat. “I never liked you. Coming in for a drink, boasting about your skills, charming all the ladies away from the rest of us.”

“I’m sorry, I—”

Then, Colin found himself roughly spun around and some metal clapped on his wrists behind his back.

“I think you deserve to see what it’s really like out there for the rest of us ruffians,” he grumbled.

Colin looked to Phil, who must have been just as panicked. He mouthed, “What do I do?” and Phil just stood there, frozen.

The pirate roughly turned him around to face the rest of the other crew.

“We got ourselves a Captain Colin Bridgerton, boys!”

They all grinned.

Chapter Text

It was months since Penelope last saw the Lady Whistledown.

She wasn’t sure if her mother recognized the boat, but it just about drove her to pieces to not blow it away in a storm.

“I can’t believe they just want these boats all over! Rolling their dead men overboard, dropping their waste into the water, it’s disgusting,” she ranted.

“They live here too, Mother. I rather think there’s quite a few more of them than us,” Penelope mumbled, but not quietly enough.

“You need to get over this human sympathy, Penelope. It’s unbecoming.”

“As if that’s the most unbecoming thing about me,” she rolled her eyes.

When she realized that her mother could not force her to marry Fife, she let the quiet and compliant mask that she’d kept up for so many years slip away. No longer did she hold her tongue when her mother said something blatantly wrong or rude, but instead said exactly what she thought. She could not do as before and slip away to wander, but she could no longer hold her tongue.

As a result, Fife started to find her “too spirited”, as he put it, and said he would not marry her unless she could be reformed.

All of Portia’s efforts failed; she tried to keep Penelope at her side every second of every day, she tried to scream at her, she tried to kindly explain to her what was expected and why mermen did not like her, she tried to have her tutored by the others in the pod, but her daughter was incredibly stubborn and refused to go back.

“I have a husband, Mother. I don’t need to change; I can just go back to him—”

“No. You can’t. He is a human, and we will never see you again should you go to him. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself should he hurt you.”

She had this infuriating idea that he would hurt her, as if the months she spent with him, safe and happy, never happened at all.

“Colin could not hurt anyone, let alone the wife he loves.”

And when Penelope saw that boat skim along the surface on one random day, she wanted to run up and scream and find him. If he wasn’t on the boat then Phil would be, and surely Colin had told him about her secret by now. She thought Colin would be trying to find her, and he probably checked Devil’s Port first thing. However, when he didn’t find her there, she wasn’t sure where he would go next.

She could not leave her mother’s side if she wanted to. Her every movement was watched, and should she swim too close to the surface, especially as a ship passed, she would be caught and pulled back once more.

She knew, at least, that the Lady Whistledown would have to come back after it was done. There was only one way out of the Mediterranean Sea, and they lived right in the middle of it.

There was also the matter of her potential pregnancy. Without spending some time on land, there was truly no way to tell if she was or was not until she felt the quickening, usually occurring around four months after conception. It was only a month since she last saw Colin, but each morning her mother asked her if she felt anything yet.

Even if she did, she knew she should say nothing. If she were pregnant with a human’s baby, she would be cast out, and if she was correct, then Colin was away at sea and would be for a couple of months more. She would have to find her way to London and hope that Anthony and Kate would be accommodating and keep her safe until Colin’s return. Her presence without him could be explained away by saying he was called away to his boat once more, and she could live with the viscount and his wife until he returned.

The chances of conception were so slim that she needed to focus on another plan, at any rate. To hope that she might be saved by a miracle was pointless, and far too impractical. She would have to think of something she could do when the Lady Whistledown sailed by once more.

So, all she could do was wait, and think, and hope.

~

It was a quiet afternoon, two months after she first saw Colin’s boat. Or what used to be Colin’s boat, anyway.

All members of her pod were sitting around, trying to figure out if they should stay or go somewhere they could continue their human-hating and ship-destroying activities.

“We need to wait until we know!” her mother was saying.

“It’s been, what, three months? She should know by now, yes?” Fife asked, leering at her. While the threat of marriage to him still hung over her, she did her best to retain her “wildness,” as he called it, and to keep everyone on their toes with her possible pregnancy, never stating one way nor the other if she had an inkling of her status. It was becoming harder and harder to push them off.

“If she is, she will know anytime now, yes. We still have a few weeks,” Portia explained. Her reputation, too, was in the balance; if her daughter had to be cast out, then she might be put into question as well. Her sisters, now married, would be fine, but her mother may have nowhere to go.

She did it to herself, really, since one can only be so overbearing and blatantly wrong before being put to the chopping block.

Penelope let the conversation fade into the background, as she usually did. None of their ridiculous affairs mattered to her. In all likelihood, they would continue to stay where they were, simply because no one could make a decision.  

She watched the surface, methodically scanning the waters to the west, as she had for months now. Boats came and went, and always there was some talk like, “If they try anything…just watch…” but nothing ever happened.

And of course, nothing happened. All their ‘offensive tactics’ were absurd, and humans had absolutely no idea they existed, let alone lived all over the sea.

The thought that humans would seek them out so they could keep them like trophies was laughable, truly. If anything, Penelope could see them trying to forge some sort of alliance, especially once they discovered they had magic. It’s not like the humans could harness them; the magic had to be done willfully and under their own direction. Honestly, of all the pods her mother could have chosen when they were tossed out, she had to pick the most delusional—

Penelope inhaled sharply, forgetting herself for a moment, because something was coming.

A boat.

From the east.

As always, she kept calm, not alerting anyone to the ship just yet. She watched as it came closer, and mentally checked off all the boxes that she was looking for. Most often she knew right away that is was not the boat she wished for, but right now…

The size was correct.

She thought she saw the correct number of sails.

The type was that of a barque, built for as much speed as one could have while carrying thousands of pounds of goods and sailors.

Nearer it drew, and everything became so much clearer.

“Ship!” one of the mermen shouted, and all heads snapped to attention.

“What type?”

“Is it the navy?”

“Is it a cargo ship?”

“Is it pirates?”

They all chatted as it floated by, nearly above them after a few minutes.

There she was.

The Lady Whistledown.

“Has it stopped?” Prudence puzzled, her nose scrunched up.

Indeed, the ship slowed. Penelope could see as they pulled up the sails, the white slowly disappearing above the surface.

“Why is it stopped?” her mother bewildered. “I’m sorry, are they…anchoring? Why?”

Penelope knew why.

It was waiting.

He knew.

Colin knew she was there, and he was waiting for her.

Colin was waiting.

“Like I know,” Fife grumbled. “What are we supposed to do?” he said, turning to one of the other mermen.

“We can’t take it down,” he said. “We aren’t allowed.”

“But it has stopped in our territory! What if they know we are here, and they’re readying their nets as we speak?”

As the rest of them bickered, Penelope swam a bit away, not so far as to draw suspicion but far enough that she could start to see the sails and deck above. She could not see much past the railing, but a few men stomped about, pulling in the sails and coiling ropes.

Is that…?

One figure stood still, his arms crossed as he leaned forward over the railing.

Colin.

He was unmistakable, even with the scruff and long hair.

He came for her. He knew she was here, and he was waiting for her. It felt like a dream, seeing him walk around up above. He looked down into the water, but there was no chance he could see her so far below.

She could not let her mother know he was on that boat.

“Why would they be waiting around if not for us?” Portia argued as Penelope swam back to their conversation, clearly unmissed in the few minutes she was gone.

“They could simply be meeting someone. They could be pirates. They could be taking a break. We don’t know, and I don’t think we should risk our home here by taking the boat down.”

“So, what are we to do? Wait and see what they do?”

“Yes, exactly.”

It killed her to do nothing, but she plotted in her head as the rest of them went around in circles for hours, everyone more indecisive the longer the ship anchored in their territory.

“We need to take them down.”

“If we take them down, we’ll be pushed out by the rest of the merfolk.”

“If we don’t take them down, who knows what they will do to us? They could be readying the nets this very moment.”

On and on and on, they bickered and argued and came to no conclusion at all.

Penelope watched as he paced, likely going from one side of the boat to the other.

She was going to leave. At the first major distraction, she was going to swim as fast as she could and fling herself up on the deck by any means necessary, concealing her tail be damned—

“Penelope, wait here. We are going to see what is happening. Should we need to intervene, be ready.”

Her mother and sisters readied themselves, steeling their faces in preparation.

“What?” she exclaimed. “Why? We can just stay here—”

“Yes, but they are not leaving, you idiot,” Philippa sneered.

“And we were elected to see what’s going on,” Prudence added.

“And you are not to be trusted,” Portia stated. “So you must stay.”

“I’ll tell you if something happens,” Felicity reassured her.

I’ll tell you if your husband is there, she heard the unspoken words.

Well, shit, she thought. She’d waited too long, wishing for a perfect opportunity that would never come. Now her mother would find out it was, indeed, her husband Colin up there on that boat, for he would scream his love for her to all corners of the earth.

She would have to make her own distraction.

“Let’s watch the men on the boat,” she said, “to make sure they are not preparing anything. Watch for nets, and such.”

“Yes,” Fife agreed. “Portia can handle herself. We need to be ready in case they decide to try something now they know we are here.”

They busied themselves, retrieving their few weapons, mostly lost harpoons, and practicing swirling the water with their magic, watching the surface for any sign of a net. She started to peel herself away from the rest of them. It was easy enough, inch by inch removing herself from their circle. She never contributed to these sorts of actions anyway, and no one even glanced in her direction. Once she was far enough out, they even closed up, her spot filled as they encircled themselves further.

As she was about to dart off, hopefully making her way to the opposite side of the boat from the one her family was crowding around—

Someone saw her.

Who was it over there—?

It was Felicity.

She did not draw attention to herself, swimming up to her sister hurriedly.

“I thought you were going to talk—” Penelope started to speak.

“We did,” she interrupted. “Pen, it’s Colin. He’s here. You must go.”

“How am I supposed to go? They’re watching us, now.” At Felicity’s return, Penelope could feel the eyes on them.

“I can distract them. You need to—”

“Felicity!”

Phillipa swam up to them.

“What’s happening, Pip?” Pen asked her.

“It’s Colin. Mother is talking with him. Felicity, you need to—”

“I’m helping Pen leave.”

“What? But…how can you?” she asked, confused. She never understood why her sister would wish to leave the safety of her family and pod, why she would give it up

“Her husband came all this way, and you are seriously questioning how I can help her?”

“Fel—”

“If you have nothing to say or do, then go back up there!” she hissed.

Phillipa looked torn for a moment but swam away once more.

“Before they come back,” Felicity started again. “Go! I can get their attention. They’re arguing in circles anyway, they aren’t paying attention.”

“You can’t risk it, Felicity,” Pen said solemnly. If Felicity was caught helping her, she would have the same fate. She would be pushed out and abandoned by her own husband for helping someone leave. This pod valued loyalty above all, and to leave was to be estranged forever.

Penelope couldn’t involve any of them. Despite her treatment these past few months especially, all the hovering and shoving her into a mold she did not fit, her mother’s overprotective and overbearing nature causing her to somehow cling to her and push her even farther away, she could not cause any member of her family to be cast out.

She would have to leave without any of their help.

“I know you don’t want to hurt us, Pen, but you can’t possibly—”

“Wait.”

There was something else on the surface. Far off for now, but…

“What, Pen?” Felicity snapped before furrowing her brow.

“Do you feel that?” Pen whispered.

“Feel what?” Felicity replied, befuddled.

Just on the corners of her senses, it invaded. She could feel it, and then, just a tiny speck, she could see it.

There was another boat.

It was going very, very fast.

“What is that?” Pen said, terrified.

Felicity turned. “I don’t—oh, no.”

Pirates.

They recognized the ship. It frequented their area, docking other boats and stealing whatever they could. Normally, pirates held to a code, and they did not cause too much trouble for the boats they stole from, but this one…

They liked to bend the rules.

They’d taken more than just goods on more than one occasion.

As quick as lightning her mother and sisters returned, fleeing the Lady Whistledown before their unexpected guests boarded the boat. Closer and closer the other ship grew, and she could vaguely see them try to hoist the sails above the surface, but she knew the effort would be in vain.

“Looks like the pirates will take care of them for us,” Fife remarked.

“Should we not help?” Portia asked, sending a look to Penelope out of the corner of her eye.

She knew it was her husband up there.

“Help them? Hah!” Fife laughed. “They’ll be doing us a favor. Did you find out why they are here? We can’t let them leave now that they know we live down here.”

“They are waiting,” she said carefully.

“For what?”

“For…” she paused, contemplating if she should tell the truth.

“For me!” Penelope blurted out.

All heads snapped to her.

“You?” Fife looked puzzled. “What could they possibly want with you?”

“It’s my husband’s boat. He came for me,” she said confidently.

“He came…why now? It’s been months. And that boat came from the east, so he must have been here before. Why not then?”

“He had to find me first. And now…” she took a breath, and closed her eyes, the realization hitting her, “now, he is on his way home, and he wants to take me with him.” Her heart soared at the thought. She would go home.

There were a few more steps that had to happen first, but Gods, she missed her home.

“Well, why should we allow that to happen?” someone else questioned. “He’s still human. We still don’t trust him.”

“I don’t think it matters if you trust him, because I would put my life in his hands. And have done, more than once, just as he’s done with me. And right now is one of those moments, so I need to go.”

She looked up, and the pirates’ boat stopped next to the Lady Whistledown. They were boarding, and she could see a flurry of men going back and forth, and Colin…

Colin was going to the other boat.

They were trying to take him.

“Penelope…” Portia said sadly.

“What? I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer. I’m not taking any answers at all, actually. I don’t need them because I don’t require your permission.”

Her mother pinched her lips together. “The pirates are boarding his boat. It looks like they’re taking him over to their side. What they want with him, I’m not sure.”

“I need to help him, Mother.”

She quirked a brow. “Do you really think that’s wise?”

“Perhaps not wise, but I can’t stand aside and do nothing.”

“Well, you could…”

“No! Stop!” she shouted, her frustration bubbling over. “I’m wasting time. I don’t need this. If they take Colin somewhere, I could never find him again. Who knows what they might do to him, where they could force him to go…”

She started to swim off, but her mother grasped her wrist, preventing her from leaving. “This is ridiculous, Penelope. We are your family, and—"

“I’m with child!”

When she shouted it, every mermaid and merman gasped.

To be fair, Penelope wasn’t exactly certain. The bubbles she felt in her stomach could be anything, but they felt so odd, she didn’t think it was a lie to tell them all that she was pregnant. It was the last card she had to play, but she kept it safe for the past two weeks, knowing that when she said the words she would be told to leave forever.

Portia loosened her hand, and Penelope’s wrist slipped away. Her mother’s eyes closed, and her face fell. All the others started to back away from her, except for Felicity who drew closer.

“Is it true, Pen? It’s his?” she asked quietly.

“It could only be his, Felicity,” she replied. “I was waiting to be sure. Now seems like a good time as any to announce it.”

“Penelope, you will no longer be accepted into our community,” someone said.

Another agreed. “You need to leave.”

She looked between her mother and sisters, meeting each of their eyes. Prudence and Philippa looked rather angry, Felicity was trying to put on a brave face to hide her sadness, and her mother…

“Mother, I—"

“Go.”

“Mother—”

“GO!” she screamed.

“You can visit me,” she said quickly. “There’s a cabin by the cliffs of Dover, on the beach. Go there. Colin won’t keep you from me.”

Her mother had to shun her, or she could be thrown out too. She may as well tell her where she would be.

Just in case.

Everyone else turned their backs and swam away. Penelope was about to leave, when Felicity took her hand gently, pulling her in for a tight hug.

“Felicity, you can’t—” she started to mumble into her hair.

“What are they going to do to me? You aren’t catching,” she said, her voice catching as she tried to stay calm.

“I know I don’t say it nearly as much as I should have, but I love you, Fel,” Pen whispered.

“I love you too, Pen. I’m sorry it had to be this way.” She pulled back, holding her sister at arm’s length. “I’m sorry you never fit in here. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. If it weren’t for you, I would be alone here,” Pen smiled sadly.

There was a clamor on the boat above so loud they could hear it, and shouting.

“You deserve love, Pen,” Felicity said sternly. “I’ll visit you. Now, go!”

With a final look back, her sister’s sad eyes pushing her away, she turned toward the boats.

She steeled herself for what was to come. She was free from her pod, but she had absolutely no plan and no way to form one without seeing the situation on the surface.

To ease her panic at the unknown, she made a mental list of what she did know: Colin was on one of the boats and knew she was down here, the pirates were willing to take prisoners, and there was upwards of two dozen men between the two ships that she would have to contend with. There was also the list of things that were probably true: Phillip could be on the Lady Whistledown, they could be fighting each other currently, and the pirates could simply kill all the spares when they took who they wanted. The only tools she had at her disposal were her magic and her own mind. She had no guns, nothing sharp to slice with, and she probably wouldn’t even have legs unless she could hoist herself up onto the deck and take twenty minutes to dry off.

She didn’t have twenty minutes.

Penelope swam as fast as she could, stirring up a fog on the surface and gathering a raincloud in the sky like her life and her husband’s depended on it, racing to reach the surface.

To save Colin.

Chapter Text

“I’m not Colin Bridgerton. I have no clue who you’re talking about.”

They had tied his hands behind his back. Phil was shouting behind him, and they looked like they were considering taking him as well, just to prove a point. The rest of the pirates rifled around in the boat, going through not just the goods they carried but also the cabins and bunks. They carried up blankets, clothes, pots and pans from the kitchen, and sacks of flour and potatoes from the ship’s personal stores.

If they kept taking things from the kitchen…

“There’s not a sailor on this sea that doesn’t know that name,” the man behind him said gruffly, cinching the rope tighter.

“I don’t. I’m new. Who is he?”

“Don’t play dumb. You sailed Devil’s Port for years. Now that it doesn’t seem to exist anymore, we have questions.”

Colin turned around and shot Phil a panicked look as he saw someone start to bring up a barrel.

Help. Do something. Distract them.

“Do you really need to take him?” Phil asked. “Don’t most of your type just want gold and jewels and such?”

“Most,” the man said darkly, “but not all. And this one has such a reputation; we should like to see if he’s the sailor of all the legends. Or, perhaps, he’s merely a myth.”

“But why are you taking our food stores? Can’t you just take the goods? We won’t make it home without—”

“We are not far from Gibraltar. And with how many questions you’ve been asking, I don’t exactly care what happens to you once we leave.”

“This one’s empty, Captain. Should we bring it anyway?”

They had rolled up the barrel from the pantry.

And it was empty?

Where the fuck is Eloise?!?

He hoped she was not stupid enough to involve herself, but he knew there was a good chance she was hiding somewhere below deck. There was also an even better chance that she was looking for a gun.

Damn it all.

“Hey, if I agree to go with you, would you leave all the rest of them alone?” Colin asked. “I’m the one you want, not them. Phil’s the captain, and they would be dead in the water if you took him too.”

“If we’re doing all this, you think we care?” the captain said. In Colin’s experience, captains usually had a certain charisma about them, himself included, but this man was as blunt and unsociable as a bullet. He undoubtedly looked like what one would expect of a pirate: greasy black hair that tangled around his shoulders, wrinkles around his tanned face indicating he might be about forty years of age, and when he talked Colin could see no evidence of care for his teeth, with black and rotting nubs coming out of his red gums. His breath smelled rank when he spoke, the short man tilting his head to blow hot air on Colin’s chin as he said, “We’re pirates lad, and not the noble sort. If you die, I doubt we’ll even read your corpse a psalm.”

“You’re rather coarse, even for pirates,” Colin remarked. He saw Phil’s face contort as he tried not to laugh.

“You’ll soon find out just how coarse we can be, Captain Bridgerton,” the pirate captain smiled horrifically, cinching the ropes around his wrists even tighter.

Colin made a stark contrast to the man, his white shirt ruffling in the sea breeze and his clean tan trousers well fitted to his legs. His boots were of a quality he was sure the pirate had only stolen from a corpse, and even with his growing beard and hair that now curled at the nape of his neck it was so long, he was far more put together than anyone on the pirate crew.

“I know I haven’t shaved recently but I don’t know if there’s any question—AAHG FUCK!”

His smart mouth, like many instances before in his father’s or Anthony’s office, had invoked a certain response from the targeted party. In this case, however, said party was a pirate, who did not care to hold back even the slightest as he backhanded him across one cheek, the bite of a sharp ring surely cutting skin and drawing blood.

“You’re just like all the stories, aren’t you?” the pirate mused. “Arrogant, egotistical, and proud. Just a pretty, rich boy whom someone trusted with a boat.”

 “Well, it’s not my boat anymore, that would be Phil’s job now—UNG! GOD SHIT DAMMIT!” This time he’d punched him, his jaw rattling as the shocks vibrated his bones.

“Quite the mouth on you for a pretty boy,” the pirate remarked, circling around to the front of him. Colin, still doubled over, spit onto the deck and was thankful he didn’t see any blood.

Simply because he wished to keep his teeth in his mouth, Colin did not respond, opting to stare out at the horizon. The pirate harumphed and walked away, shouting some orders to clean them out of everything.

“What do we do?” Phil said next to him.

“I don’t know,” Colin said truthfully.

They were ransacking the boat, and they didn’t have long before they would cart Colin off with him. The mermaids were just below them, and Colin almost wished they would brew up a storm and capsize their boats. He didn’t even care if they had to take down the Lady Whistledown, because if it meant he could go free then it would be worth the swim.

But that was the worst-case scenario, surely. There had to be something else he could do to take them by surprise and gain the advantage here, to take back their boat and toss the lot of them into the ocean for the mermaids to deal with as they saw fit.

And of course, Penelope was still down there somewhere. He didn’t know if they would let her go, even after his heartfelt declaration. He hoped it was convincing enough for them to allow her to leave and return to him, but at this point, she might be safer down there, away from the pirates. He could never forgive himself if she were to come up here and the pirates saw her and decided to take her instead. A mermaid has far more worth than some half-rate sea captain.

Trying to not fall into self-pity, Colin started to throw out ideas. “Where are the guns?”

“Some of the men have them, and they should be loaded. The others have swords.”

“What if we just started shooting?”

“Oh yes, your brilliant plan is to just waste a bullet and gunpowder, not to mention the time that it would take to reload should they miss. You know the lot of them are horrible shots.”

“Well do you have anything else? Because we need to do something.”

“I don’t know Colin. I’ve never exactly been boarded by pirates before, let alone had them take one of my crew members.”

“And you think I have?”

“You’ve been a captain far longer than…” Philip trailed off.

“What?” Colin asked sharply, but then he looked around at the air.

It manifested from nowhere, curling white tendrils of mist rising from the ocean so fast it couldn’t be natural.

Fog.

So thick you could cut it with a knife. He could hardly see either end of the boat after only a few seconds.

Penelope.

~

As soon as the fog was thick enough, she started to work.

She truly hoped she was knocking the right men off the boat.

There were quite a few new members aboard the Lady Whistledown, but she thought the pirates looked rather shabby in comparison.

As they went overboard, she didn’t bother smothering them further as they flailed about in the water. Some of their own tried to fish them out with ropes, but it took quite an effort. Half a dozen of them swam about now, their actions mixed between trying to find a way back up to the boats and peering down into the water to see what had pulled them in so unnaturally. She had no idea how many more there could be up there. She did note that as soon as the fog was formed, it was rather chaotic up on the deck. She could hear some shouting and perhaps some…gunshots? Neither of which gave her much comfort.

As she saw someone get close to the edge and she could examine their figure, she made quick choices if they were going over. One man looked like he was reloading a gun, and based on his dark shirt full of rips and his filthy shoes, Penelope formed the water into a sort of snake or whip, a few feet across and tall enough to reach the deck and swipe the man under his feet, knocking him off balance and tipping him over into the water.

“What the bloody hell was that?” he screamed as he resurfaced, frantically treading water.

“Some kind of magic, I don’t know, mate,” another man replied, terrified.

“A siren?” someone said to a murmur of agreement.

Perhaps her mother might drown them later.

She could not see very far onto the deck, unfortunately, and she didn’t want to risk a larger wave sending one of the Lady Whistledown’s men into the sea.

When enough of them were out of the way, she needed to figure out how to get onto the boat with a minimal number of men seeing her. Once she was on the boat she would be far more defenseless, unable to walk, and they could put the magic to a face. It was a risk, but there would come a time she would be more helpful if she could see what was going on.

She hoped Colin could hold on until then.

~

When the fog rolled in and the first men went overboard, chaos erupted. Someone spilled blood, and he couldn’t tell who it was, but it didn’t really matter when all of them had guns and swords.

The pirate captain started shouting, forgetting about him for just long enough for Phil to slip behind him and slice through the rope quickly.

“Thanks, mate,” Colin said gratefully, rubbing at his sore wrists as he took in the scene around him.

Most had paired off, swords clashing and the occasional burst of a bullet shooting through the air as they fought. He could see only one body on the deck, and it looked to be a pirate. He glanced overboard to see several men floating along between the two boats, still connected by a few planks of wood. The men flailed about, almost befuddled as to how they ended up there.

Pen was helping.

He watched as a column of water rose out of the sea and curled, catching a pirate around his legs and knocking him over and whisking him off the deck.

Could she do that, but larger?

Could he tell her to do that?

No, she couldn’t. Their crews were all mixed together. She would risk the crew of the Lady Whistledown, and she knew that, so she had to pull them overboard one by one. She must still be in the water, and only able to see the edges of the deck.

“Phil,” Colin shouted over the grunts and cries from the other men around him. “I need you to stand by the deck railing, on the stern. If you see Pen, tell her to come up there, and keep her hidden. She can help better if she can see what’s going on.”

“Right,” Phil agreed and ran off.

“Maybe have a blanket ready!” Colin suggested. Phil gave him an acknowledging nod and started to peer out into the water. He rotated between that and checking his own back for his safety.

Colin could have taken his advice, because he suddenly found himself facedown on the deck, barely catching himself and saving his face from a broken nose. He tried to push himself up quickly, but a boot between his shoulders prevented him.

“Don’t think you’re getting away from me,” the pirate captain said. “You’ve taken too much business from us. I think you owe it to me to explain just how you made it through Devil’s Port so many times. I’ve been on the sea for my entire life, and I nearly died the only time I tried.”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he ground out, still trying to push up against the leg pressing him into the wood.

“I’ve seen more than you could ever believe, boy,” he said. “There’s things in this sea that would give you nightmares, creatures that would chill you to the bone, carve up your innards for fishbait and leave you to a slow death on a deserted island. There are magical beings that only kept you alive all these years because they couldn’t see you as a threat, but they could take you out in a momen—AHG!”

Colin used his overly dramatic monologue to heave his body to the side, knocking the pirate off balance. As he tumbled to the deck, Colin rolled to the side to get away.

“Oi!” he heard a shout. He looked to see Phil fling a sword at him.

“Good God!” he exclaimed, avoiding the blade as it clattered to the deck. “You couldn’t have brought it to me?”

“I have no desire to go any closer than needed,” he grinned. “You can take him by yourself.”

Colin rolled his eyes and waved in thanks. The pirate captain had recovered from his own fall and pulled his blade from its scabbard.

“I thought I could convince you to work for me,” he said, testing the sword, swishing it through the air, “but I hardly think you’re worth the effort now.”

And he charged.

Colin picked up the sword from the deck, and without thinking his hands brought it up to defend his face from the other man. The metal sparked as the blades clattered against one another, and the other man started to circle him, plotting his next move.

Of all the things he expected today, a sword fight with a pirate captain was not one of them.

All of his fencing lessons kicked in, though the cutlass was vastly different from the rapier. It was certainly heavier, and he could hold it in his dominant left hand for once. The pirate quickly advanced, making to slash at his left side but Colin met him easily, much to the confusion of his opponent. He used that to his advantage and swiped at his thighs and the blade made contact just barely, leaving a cut in the fabric of his trousers and a red slice on his skin.

“Ssssss,” he hissed, stumbling, and Colin smiled, already pushing forward again. If he could move him to the edge of the deck, then Pen could send him into the water.

With his left-handedness exposed, however, the pirate expected him and met his blade before he could meet skin once more.

“Can only use that trick once, Captain Bridgerton,” he smirked.

Colin dodged to the left as the sword came for his right side, aimed right at his gut. He heard the swish and felt a breeze as the sword just barely missed him, though it did slice through his shirt. He could not let it muddle his thought, he could not stop to think about any move he made; he could only rely on instinct to inform his moves, to help him duck or lean or reach for the pirate. The rest of the chaos around them faded away, and he could hear a buzzing in his ears that must be the shouting of the others as they tried to fend off the pirates and send them back to their own boat or to the watery depths of Davy Jones’s locker.

He was fighting for his life as the pirate captain took swipe after swipe at his abdomen, trying to spill his insides all over the deck. They spun in circles, but he made it no closer to the deck railing so his wife could take her sweet time drowning his haughty, self-serving, black-toothed—

“Ah!” he exclaimed as he felt the bite of a blade cut his side. He knew it could be worse than it felt, so he took only a glance down at his white shirt to see how much blood was welling up. It was red, but not gushing, so he used the pause to strike before the pirate could react. He rushed forward and swung a little wildly, only paying attention to where the other man’s hand with his sword was going and not his own. He must have hit something because he heard a shout, but he had successfully moved himself next to the railing. If they continued their pattern of circling each other as they fought, eventually the pirate would end up within sight of Pen and she could use her beautiful magic to take him down.

“That sting a bit, boy?” the pirate smiled, a horrific grin of black decay. “Next time I won’t miss.”

“If you were a real swordsman, it wouldn’t take more than once,” Colin taunted. His word had the intended effect, and the pirate’s face fell into a rage-filled scowl. His feet stomped as he charged forward, and Colin lightly maneuvered to sidestep him.

Unfortunately, rather than taking a moment to assess his position and calculate his next move like Colin expected, he continued his advance, almost running at Colin with his sword right out in front. Colin backed himself up into the wall of the quarterdeck, the door to the captain’s quarters just steps away.

He managed to parry the haphazard thrust of the sword and moved once more. He followed and damned if he was too far from the railing again. “Not very light on your feet, are you?”

“You talk an awful lot for a pansy that’s never held a real sword before. I can see those fencing lessons in your little dance moves,” the pirate said in what was meant to be an insult. Colin rather thought his light feet were helping him as he avoided the sword again and again while still managing to take his own swipes.

“Hey!”

A shout from Phil.

A splash and a thump.

“Colin!”

He looked to see Phil on the upper deck, and…

“Pen!” he shouted, and the pirate took the distraction as an opportunity to slash at him once again. The blade caught his skin just barely once more, a thin red line appearing through another cut in his shirt. “I thought you said next time would be the last?” he prodded at the pirate, hoping to infuriate him into making stupid mistakes in his moves.

And again it worked, the man clumping his way over to him, too quickly and unable to stop his momentum. Colin easily avoided his advance, ducking out of the way, and before the pirate could turn around his sword found the backs of his calves. He stumbled and cried out, and fury flooded his features as he turned around and charged once again.

They found themselves at the bow of the ship, and he hoped that Pen could see enough from the poop deck through her fog to send up a wave—

Apparently, she could, because a group of four pirates on the port side found themselves washed away by an incredibly, unnaturally precise wall of water that scooped over their heads and thrust them into the side of their own boat as they fell into the ocean.

“What the bloody hell was that?” the pirate captain exclaimed as a third of his remaining men bobbed around as they tried to float. With so many in the water, there was hardly any left to try to haul them back up onto the boat. The captain, thoroughly confused and stumbling around on his injured legs, spotted Pen on the upper deck. She stared at him, hard and unwavering as another curl of water sent another of his men down when he tried to take the steps to reach her. She didn’t even need to look at him as he went overboard, her gaze steady on the pirate.

“That’s my girl,” Colin laughed, catching his attention once more.

“You’ve a siren on this boat? Well, that explains quite a bit,” he grinned. “More a reason to be rid of you.”

“I doubt you’ll have the chance, but good luck,” he smirked, easily dodging a clumsy strike from him. He was tiring, and bleeding a bit from his cuts.

However, Colin truly did not want him dead at his hands.

“If you leave my boat now, I’ll allow it,” he offered. He still held his cutlass in his left hand, but he left it at his side.

“You think…I made it this far…by giving up?” the pirate ground out. “I’ve been worse off and still come out the victor.”

He rushed again and Colin dodged. The pirate stood at the very tip of the bow, in a prime location for Pen to do her work. “Last chance.”

“Ha,” he breathed. “No.”

At the other end of the boat, the door to the captain’s cabin swung open.

Eloise stood there, pistol in hand.

His eyes widened, and the pirate looked confused. “What?” he ground out, squinting to see through the fog who was standing there.  

“No!” Phil shouted, leaving Pen so he could run to the upper deck railing. He could not see that it was Eloise, but he knew he kept a gun in his quarters, and anyone might have found it in the chaos of the fight.

Moments slowed down to feel like minutes. Colin watched Pen gasp and start to furiously rub the blanket over her body to dry herself off quickly so she would not be helpless. As Phil looked over the railing to see Eloise standing there, her hair tumbling around her shoulders in the absence of her hat and very clearly not a man, she cocked the gun. The pirate started to rush at her with his sword, past Colin in a bungling burst of limbs, but it was too late.

Eloise, with the pistol perfectly lined up, made her shot.

It struck him on the left side of his chest, in the dead center of his heart.

Everyone still alive around them stopped, pirate and not. The pirate captain jolted with the force of the bullet and looked down at his shirt as it bloomed red. “That boy just shot me…” is all he could say before he collapsed to the deck, a pool of blood slowly forming around him as he died.

“That boy shot his heart from fifty feet!” someone exclaimed.

“Would it be better or worse if I told you I’m actually a woman?” Eloise replied haughtily, dropping the gun to the deck.

“Eloise!” Colin shouted.

“What?” she shrugged. “I lost my hat, so there’s no point now.”

Phil came up behind him and took the sword from his hands. “I suggest whoever is left, leaves before the lady reloads,” he ordered.

The pirates, now captainless and confused, hurriedly crossed back to their ship by the wood plank and by their rope swings. Colin could hear several people start to shout orders, and no one wanted to follow any of them.

“Raise the sails! We are leaving!” Phil shouted to the crew, and they started to scramble.

Eloise walked over to him. “Are you hurt? You’re bleeding.”

“I’ll be fine. How did you know where to find the gun?”

She froze as Philip joined their conversation. “She must have seen me clean it during one of our meetings in there.”

“But if she’d only seen it while being cleaned, then how did she know where to find it?” Colin questioned with a smug smile.

Phil’s mouth opened and closed as he struggled to think of something to say. “I…perhaps she…we would not…”

“All I can say is you better take care of her, Phil,” he warned.

He left them standing there, heads turning between each other and Colin as he walked away.

He had only one person on his mind.

Where is Pen?

He ran up to the upper deck, taking the stairs two at a time.

There she was, still rubbing herself with a blanket, her tail sticking out from the bottom of it.

“Pen!” he exclaimed, collapsing at her side. He took a moment to arrange the fabric to cover her before he reached over to take her hand in his, peppering it with a hundred kisses, all of the ones he wished he could give her but he couldn’t these past few months. She was almost dry except for her damp red hair, curling around her face and on her chest, and for the tears streaming from her eyes. The sigh of relief that left his body could have filled their sails, the invisible weight of guilt and hopelessness and worry and sorrow departing his body with it.

“I’m sorry, Pen, God I’m so sorry—”

“I’m sorry too, it was all so stupid—”

“I love you, Penelope.”

“I love you, too, Colin, so very much.”

They both rushed to speak at the same time, sorrow and forgiveness and elation all bubbling out at the same time as they tried to pick one to focus on.

“God, I missed you,” he said with a laugh, and she reached her hand up to his face, holding his cheek and her thumb wiping away the wetness that gathered as he started to cry with relief. She grinned and clutched at his hand, pulling her into him, weaving her fingers into his hair to hold his head to her shoulder as they both sobbed.

“Every day I wanted to leave but I couldn’t,” she laughed, squeezing him to her tightly. His arms wrapped around her middle and he leaned over, nearly on top of her. “I couldn’t leave, because I knew you would try to find me as soon as you could.”

“I did, Pen, I did. I told Phil about you and he let me take a job on here under a different name, with Eloise, she’s here too, but I suppose you saw that because she shot the pirate—oh God, how am I ever going to explain to my mother that I allowed Eloise to shoot a pirate—”

“We can figure it all out later,” Pen said, sniffling and wiping her eyes on his shirt. She pulled her hand back from his side and looked down to see red. “Oh Colin! You’re bleeding!” she panicked, looking at his shirt to see quite a big stain. She tugged it out of his trousers and pulled it up to reveal his abdomen, and the slices to his skin. “You’re hurt! You need to lie down, and someone might need to stitch these cuts…”

“I’m fine, I swear,” he reassured her, pulling the hem of the shirt back down. “Nothing more than some small cuts. I think I have one on my face, as well,” he smiled, “which I’m sure you’re rather disappointed to see marring my handsome cheek.”

“I don’t give  a care about your face as long as it is whole, you stupid man,” she cried, holding his neck with both hands. “If you don’t stop with your joking, I’ll have Eloise stitch you up instead of me.”

“God, I’ll look like one of her sorry attempts at embroidery,” he grinned, and at her laugh, he exhaled. “How I dreamed of that laugh, how I missed it filling up the room.”

“Of all things to miss about me, it is my laugh that you thought of most?”

“I could not name which part of you I longed for the most, my wife, for it would take days, weeks, to name them all. I could start with your laugh, but there’s also your music, your hair, your hands, your cheeky remarks as I—”

“Colin!” she interrupted his wistful listing.

He chuckled. “I’ll shut up if you kiss me, wife.”

With no hesitation, she brought his lips down to reach hers. They slid together and it felt like home, a sigh leaving her mouth and filling his. She played with the long ends of his hair that touched the collar of his shirt, sliding her hands down to touch the skin on his exposed chest.

“I’m never letting you out of my sight again,” he said as he pulled back to kiss down her neck. He hoped that his body covered the exposed parts of her because he was going to kiss her senseless, audience or not. “I’ll glue you to me if I have to.”

“Mmmm. Sticky,” she breathed, Colin’s hands wrapping around her middle and feeling her skin and her scales alike, running the tips of his fingers up and down her sides. “When you said kiss, I thought you mean my lips, but this is nice, too.”

“I want to kiss every inch of you, a thousand kisses for you to forgive me for my horrible words, and a thousand more for every moment I missed you.”

“And I will give you the same, because I would by a hypocrite if I didn’t,” she said. “Oh Colin, as soon as I said the words I regretted it. As soon as I walked into the ocean I knew I made a mistake.”

“We were both quite selfish, weren’t we?” he said quietly. “We can’t do that again.”

“No, we can’t,” Pen agreed. “If you promise to tell me when you are unhappy and if I can help you fix it, then I will do the same for you.”

“I will endeavor to do so,” he sighed. “I know I’m not perfect, Pen—”

“I’m not either,” she interrupted, “but go on.”

“But I hope to be a better husband. I hope to be the best husband you could want.”

“You crossed the sea and fought off a boat of pirates, Colin,” she laughed. “I couldn’t ask for a better partner.”

“Nor could I, wife,” he said, turning his attention back to her face. Slowly, he kissed one cheek, and then the other, and then her forehead and the corner of her mouth before he kissed her lips once again, delicately and gently and tenderly, trying to tell her just how much he cared when the words “I love you” would never be enough to explain how deeply he cherished her.

He could have kissed her forever, stayed in that moment for an eternity. He didn’t care if someone found them, if someone watched as they basked in the other’s presence, because Penelope was finally in his arms once again. It felt like the piece that vanished from his soul had found it’s way back to him, fitting together just as seamlessly as before. He could feel her, he could touch her, he could hold her, and she held him back, her hands roaming his body from his face to his shoulders to his arms like she couldn’t believe that he was real.

“Erm—”

“WHO—oh, Phil,” he startled but calmed when he saw who it was. “And Eloise.”

“You can have the captain’s cabin,” Phil said.

“Oh, we couldn’t—” Pen tried to say no.

“We insist. Mostly because if you become wet it’s likely to cause a line of questioning you won’t want to answer.”

Colin laughed. “We’ll be down soon. Try to keep the deck clear so no one sees.”

“Are you safe, Pen? You aren’t injured?” Eloise asked, looking her over and her eyes widening as she noted the bit of tail sticking out of the blanket.

“I’m perfectly well, Eloise. Thank you for coming all this way,” Pen said, truly grateful for a friend that would brave a boat with a dozen men to help bring her home.

“I would do it again in a heartbeat,” she said earnestly. “We can talk more later, but…I’m so happy to see you.”

“I feel much the same,” Pen smiled. “I’ll find you when we’re done here.”

The pair went back down the stairs, and Colin heard Phil as he ordered only the sparest of crews to man the sails.

“Should we…” Pen trailed off, glancing down at the rest of them.

“Not yet,” Colin whispered, taking her head in his hands again. “I’m not ready.”

When he kissed her this time, it was stirring, it was needy, it was slow and deep and hard. He pressed his whole body on hers, not quite on top of her but with one leg thrown over the blanket and her tail as he supported himself with one arm, the other holding her to him. She threw her arms around his neck and moaned, feeling her breasts touch his linen shirt and butterflies in her stomach that he never failed to send fluttering.

This was heaven. This was home. This was love.

The Lady Whistledown started to pick up speed, and they pulled away from the other one, the pirate crew still scrambling to ready their ship and pull the rest of them out of the water.

“Looks like I won’t need to carry you down to the cabin,” he mumbled against her lips. Penelope pulled back to see that she was completely dry and wiggled her toes under the blanket.

“How sad,” she whispered. “I was looking forward to you carting me down those slippery deck stairs again.”

“Some other day,” he said, kissing her gently before standing up.

He helped keep the blanket wrapped around her body as he helped her to her feet, pulling it tightly around her shoulders. He wrapped his arm around her and they started to walk, but…

Penelope had something to tell him, and she just could not wait any longer.

“There’s one other thing,” she said, her joy overtaking her face.

“What’s that?” he asked, his chin nearly touching his chest as he looked down at her.

“Colin, I’m pregnant.”

“You’re…really? You are?” he said in awe, tears forming in his eyes once again, just as he’d finished crying.

“Yes.”

“What? I thought—I mean you said maybe—but you couldn’t possibly…already?” Colin struggled to articulate as the disbelief gave away to absolute glee.

“I can’t exactly be sure until I spend some time on land, but I felt the quickening a few weeks ago,” she explained, her smile wide enough to reach her ears.

“The quickening? Already? Though I suppose it has been long enough, with us apart,” he babbled and kneeled in front of her. “Hello, baby,” he said, placing his hands on her nearly non-existent bump. “I’m so sorry I haven’t been around, but I promise I’ll never leave you again. I’m your Dad.”

Pen touched his head as he kissed her stomach. “Colin, you’re making me cry again.”

“Pen, I’m going to be a dad,” he said, looking up at her, his face wet with tears. “I wasn’t sure if I ever would be, but I’m going to be a dad, and you’re going to be a mum, and there will be three of us!”

He stood up suddenly and she shrieked and giggled as he swept her off her feet to carry her, her arms going around his neck as he cradled her legs and back. “I thought you weren’t going to carry me!” she laughed.

“I can’t have my pregnant wife slipping and falling down some stairs,” he explained as he traversed them himself. “What kind of husband would I be if you hurt yourself?” She could see his mind working, and he looked a bit angry after a moment. “Penelope, why on earth were you fighting off pirates while you’re with child?!”

“I was wondering when you would say something about that,” she rolled her eyes. “I could hardly stand back and watch. I probably saved you, you know! I knocked about a dozen of them into the water!”

“We had it all in hand,” he said. “I would have felt worse if you’d been hurt.”

“I rather think that Eloise had it in hand, but I digress,” she smirked, and Colin glared at her. They’d reached the door to the captain’s quarters. “I’m not unconscious of the fact that I’m not alone in my body anymore, Colin. I involved myself in the safest way I could.”

“What if one of them had fallen on you? Or saw you in the water and decided to swim after you?” he questioned, carefully opening the door with the hand holding her legs, still not putting her down.

As he placed her on the bed, she replied, “If one of them did try to swim after me, I doubt they could catch up. Did you forget how fast I am after all these months?”

“No, Pen,” he sighed. “I just worry for you, is all. And the baby.” He lay next to her on the bed, removing the blanket and placing a hand on her belly, stroking it slowly.

“We’re all safe, Colin,” she reassured him. “And we are going home.”

“Well, we have to stop in Gibraltar tonight, for more food and to file a report on those pirates…” he explained, “but yes, we are probably a week away.”

“Maybe you can find me some clothes, too,” she said, looking down at herself. “I can’t leave the cabin.”

“Would that be so bad?” he smirked, leaning in to kiss her once again.

“Oh, stop it,” she laughed, smacking him on the chest. “We aren’t doing anything until those cuts are stitched together.”

“I’ll have someone bring some thread and a needle, nurse,” he chuckled.

They lay in silence for a few long moments, just looking into each other’s eyes, Colin’s hand on her stomach and hers in his hair. Penelope felt like her stomach was doing tumbles inside of her, and then—

“Oh!” she gasped, and Colin’s eyes widened. “Did you feel—”

“Is that…” he trailed off, staring at her in wonder.

“I guess they know who their father is,” she smiled, and Colin snorted.

“That’s amazing. You’re amazing. God, I missed you so much,” he said, kissing her all over her face.

Penelope sighed. “I missed you too, Colin.”

Colin took her hand and squeezed it so tightly that Penelope thought he never wanted to let go again.

“Let’s go home.”

Chapter Text

They arrived home in London just as the cool kiss of Autumn started to chill the air.

“Welcome home, brother,” Anthony greeted him at their home in Bloomsbury. It was late summer, and the house seemed to be in bloom, with plant pots full of flowers and greenery their tree out front shading the door, though the mermaid knocker still stood out against the wood.

“I’m glad you received my letter,” Colin said, jumping from the carriage to give him a hug. “Is the house ready?”

“It is,” he smiled, looking at Penelope as Colin helped her out. “I had all of the carpets shaken out for the main rooms, and everything dusted and polished. Your bed should be made up, and the larder full to the brim.”

“Did you do anything to the nursery?” Pen asked lightly, a little smirk curling the corners of her mouth as she strode past Anthony.

“I did n—wait, what?” he looked confused, and then realization washed over his face, his eyes widening as his face brightened. “Colin, you said that—”

“I thought so too,” he explained, his features full of a sheepish joy as they walked up the steps to follow Penelope inside. “She told me when I found her. She is probably about four months along, as she’s felt the quickening.”

“She’s already felt the quickening?” Anthony said, thrilled for his brother. He let out a sigh, his face soft as they reached the foyer. He suddenly pulled Colin into a tight hug, his hands patting him hard on the back as they embraced. “I’m so happy for you, brother. This is truly the greatest news.”

“I know. I can hardly believe it,” Colin said, pulling back. “I’ll take any advice you can give because I’m a little terrified.”

“Well, the first piece of advice: that’s completely normal,” he chuckled before turning to face Pen. “Congratulations, Penelope. The two of you will make wonderful parents, and I’m so excited to give Edmund and Miles a new cousin.”

“Thank you, Anthony,” she said. “And thank you for preparing the house. It would be rather difficult to arrive home to an empty home with no food or maids.”

“I also had some paperwork to deposit on Colin’s desk. He’s taking over the running of half the Bridgerton estates, which starts…well, now,” he explained with a questioning look to Colin.

“I know. Colin told me. I don’t mind, as long as we don’t have to stay in London for very long,” she said. She and Colin came up with a plan in the week it took them to arrive back home, spending their days in the captain’s cabin figuring out the logistics.

Among other activities, of course.

“I reassured her that I can work from nearly anywhere,” Colin said, looking to Anthony for confirmation.

“You would be correct, though someone will have to check should any of the fields become unproductive…” he trailed off.  

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll send Greg,” he said dryly.

“I’m sure Greg won’t have the same discerning knowledge of sheep herding as someone who shipped wool for a living,” Anthony taunted.

Colin ignored him. “Pen, why don’t we tell Dunwoody the news so he can ready the nursery?”

“That sounds like a splendid idea,” she agreed. “You are welcome to stay for dinner, Anthony, though I am entirely unsure what it will be unless I speak with the cook—”

“No, that is not necessary,” he said. “I must be going. Kate and the children will be expecting me soon.”

After saying their farewells, Colin and Pen spoke with their butler who said he would let the housekeeper know, and they went upstairs.

“The whole house will be buzzing within the hour,” Pen grinned.

“And every house in London will know by tomorrow morning,” he agreed, taking her hand. “Let’s go look at it to see what needs to be changed.”

They stood in front of the heavy wood door. They had only opened it once, when they first bought the house, and never again. It was like they did not want to hope, did not want to believe, because the possibility of it never happening was very real. Neither admitted it, but they both thought it was too painful to look at.

And now, when they looked at that door, when Colin put his hand on the knob and slowly turned it, the hinges creaking as they opened, they realized that the room would, one day, have an occupant.

The room had a few things inside already, covered in a thin layer of dust. The yellow walls looked like sunshine as light streamed in through the white curtains on the window. A dark wood bassinet sat along one wall, and a tall chest of drawers with a similar finish along the other. A beautiful dollhouse was the only other item in the room, devoid of any of the small furniture one might expect with such an expensive toy. There was not a rug to cover the wood floor that creaked as they walked inside, Pen’s heels clicking on the floor with each step.

“I didn’t know if I would ever see this room again,” Pen said to the room.

“Me either,” Colin replied honestly. “I did not wish to raise my hopes.”

Penelope stood quietly for a moment before saying, “So you are happier that I will give you a child?”

“No!” Colin rushed. “I mean, yes, but no, not the way you mean.”

“So what do you mean?”

“I am thrilled that you are with child. Joyful, ecstatic, delighted. But I would not be sad if it never happened. I was content with just you, Pen. For you to give us a child, is truly a gift that I never expected but is so welcome, nonetheless. I love you, and I would never resent that you could not become pregnant because you are Pen, and you are my wife. My love could never be reduced because of it, and it is only multiplied to include the new life you are growing inside you.”

“I only ask because this may be the only child we could have. I know you have may brothers and sisters, but I don’t know if I can give that to you.”

“I don’t care,” he said, rushing to kiss her soundly. “I only ever wanted you. Whatever else comes after is just an additional gift to your love and affection that you already shower upon me.”

Pen could not find adequate words to reply, so she leaned into him as their lips slid together, his tongue slipping into her mouth. They stood there, kissing in the nursery with the door wide open, for far too long. They breathed together, existed together, finally feeling safe and unpanicked and unharmed for the first time in recent memory.

“I want to paper the room green,” she mumbled into him. He hummed in agreement, so she added, “And I want a rocking horse. And wood blocks. And blue curtains. And a soft rug for the floor.”

“Anything,” he said, still kissing her between her sentences. He’d started to unbutton the back of her dress, the sleeves slipping down her shoulders.

“Perhaps you could wait to undress me until we retired to our room?” she hinted, her hands not matching her words as she untied the knot of his cravat at his throat and slipped it off his neck.

“I fear I may fall asleep as soon as my head rests upon my own pillow,” he admitted. “But we can pause this until we are both more rested.”

“I shall note it in my appointment book,” she jested.

They slept the rest of the evening through to the morning, only dreams of soft bedding and perfumed pillows filling their heads.

~

They settled back into their life remarkably easily. Pen grew and grew each month, and Colin still found it mesmerizing when he could feel the baby kick within her.

One afternoon, close to Christmas, Colin lay in bed with Pen as she worked up the courage to ready herself for the day, and he thought of a question. “Are they going to come out swimming? Will it have to be just us and my mother or Kate or Eloise in the room with us when the time comes?”

“No,” she chuckled. “They will always be half-human, half-mermaid. Only when they are in seawater will they be a mermaid. They should be able to live a relatively normal life.”

“They won’t have to be worried about a sudden drizzle like my wife?” he jibed, and Pen snorted.

“No, they will not. They can even take a bath and not have to worry about kicking the maid out before they touch the water.”

Colin was silent for a moment, thinking. “Will their children be mermaids, too?”

“Probably not. They might have a little magic, but a quarter is too small a portion to have a tail.” The magic would fade slowly, each generation having less and less of it, able to control smaller and smaller amounts of water and weather. Eventually, it would be so diluted that it would not really exist at all.

“Is there much information on a…situation like ours?” Colin asked.

“Not much, but some. It is not entirely rare for a mermaid to fall in love with a sailor,” she smirked, and he kissed her forehead. “It has happened enough that I know it should be just as any other birth, unless I experience complications.”

“Complications?” Colin tensed and looked down at her. “What sort of complications?”

“Things that could happen to any mother. The baby might come bottom first, or I could bleed after they are born, or they might get stuck in the birthing canal and require forceps—”

“What the bloody hell are forceps?” he interrupted.

“A metal tool they use to take hold of the baby’s head and pull them out,” she explained, matter-of-fact.

Colin went a little pale. “Good God.”

“I will be fine, Colin,” she reassured him. “The doctor said the baby seems to be facing down already and is not overly large. I should be perfectly well, other than the whole birthing part,” she giggled.

“I just want to ensure your safety. Whatever you need, I will make sure you have it available to you when the time comes for the baby to arrive.”

“I should probably have a doctor or a midwife in the room, just in case.”

“Done.”

~

It happened one cold afternoon in January. Her waters broke suddenly as she played the pianoforte, fumbling the keys as a strong pain spread across her stomach and back and liquid dribbled from her.

“Pen? What is it?” Colin jumped up and rushed to her, kneeling by the bench and resting his hands on her arm and waist.

“I…I think my waters broke,” she explained. She waited for her tail to fall into place, but it never did.

“So…now?” he asked, his eyes wide and his voice high as the realization dawned.

“Now. Send for a midwife,” she ordered, standing up and looking at the puddle on the floor. “And perhaps someone to clean the carpet.”

The midwife, a gruff woman named Evangelina that kept feeding her bites of beef to keep her strength up even though Pen had not been able to stomach the smell her entire pregnancy, encouraged her to move around to progress the labor. She paced the halls for hours, groaning when the wave of pain would hit her and cause her to stop and lean against whatever she could. Colin had also sent for Kate, thinking after two children of her own that she could offer some comfort, with Eloise insisting on accompanying her. She and Phillip happened to be eating dinner at Bridgerton House, and when she heard that her best friend was in labor she had to offer her help.

Unfortunately, her version of help was asking the midwife if what was happening was normal any time Penelope started to groan.

“This is taking an awfully long time,” she said. “It’s nearly dawn.”

“I’ve just checked her, and she’s nearly there,” the midwife said. “The baby’s head is in position. And it’s only been 14 hours. That’s not bad for a first labor.”

“She’s right,” Kate added. “Edmund took an entire day to come out. Miles was only a bit faster.”

Eloise paled.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Pen moaned, and Kate handed her the chamber pot they’d been carrying about the house with her as she wandered. As Pen retched, Colin held her hand.

“That really means she’s close,” the midwife explained. “Perhaps we should make our way back to the bedroom.”

When Colin tried to follow them in, he was barred.

“No men in the birthing room,” the midwife said. “Why don’t you sit in the parlor and have a scotch. We’ll call when we’re done.”

The door slammed in his face, and Pen let out a moan that turned into a scream.

Colin, grumbling, did as he was told.

“Where’s Colin?” Pen asked between pains.

“We can’t have men in here,” the midwife said, looking between her legs to check her again. “I can see a bit of the head. You need to push.”

“Do you want him?” Eloise asked hurriedly, looking to Kate for assistance.

“Colin!” Kate shouted as she left the room in a blur of lilac fabric.  

“Is that wise?” the midwife asked, all too familiar with men that fainted at the first sight of some hair coming through the birth canal.

“I can assure you that Colin can handle himself. Why should she not have her husband by her side?” Eloise prodded at her.

“I can’t be having him crack his head on the floor when he sees a bit of blood,” she stated, earning an eye roll from Eloise.  

“I’m here Pen!” Colin rushed into the room and grasped her hand immediately, kneeling by the bedside. She smiled at him gratefully, and Kate strolled in not long after.

“Anthony attended each of my births. If she wants him, he should be here,” Kate smirked.

“If he faints, one of you two needs to attend to him,” the midwife warned. “She needs to push. Now.”

The sky started to turn purple, red, orange. Later, when someone would ask if it hurt, Pen would say she didn’t remember, but at the moment she screamed with each pain, bearing down on…something, something that desperately wanted to come out. It was like no other pain she’d felt, a burning and a sharp, crushing fire as her body worked with her to birth her baby.

She could not tell you if it took hours or minutes or days, but the others were surprised that it took only a few pushes and her baby daughter entered the world screaming and with a head of bright red hair and two feet. Eloise cried as Pen picked her up from the sheets, bloody and covered in God knows what, but so in love. Even Kate let a few tears fall as she laughed.

“She’s beautiful, Pen,” Colin sobbed next to her, stroking her head.

“She’s perfect,” she whispered, unable to take her eyes off her child. Colin wrapped his arm around her as he climbed into the bed next to her, the baby settling into her arms and nuzzling into her nightgown, now filthy with sweat and blood.

After helping to deliver the afterbirth, the midwife, Eloise, and Kate left nearly silently, giving the new family privacy after ensuring mother and baby did not need any more assistance.

“You are so amazing, Pen,” Colin breathed, holding her gently around her stomach.

“I’m so glad you did not faint,” Pen joked, looking at him with exhausted eyes.

“I wouldn’t miss this for anything. And what’s a little blood, anyway?” he chuckled, stroking the baby’s head with his thumb. “She’s asleep, poor thing. She’s had a long day.”

“We both have,” Pen said, a yawn overtaking her. “Can you have the bassinet brought in?”

The baby fed as they set up their bedroom. It was only a little unusual that Pen wanted to take care of her herself, insisting she fed her from her own breast and hoping she would not have to hire a nanny. They settled her to bed, and they slept for a few hours until the baby cried, the first of many tired days and sleepless nights, full of joy and love and contentment.

They named her Agatha, after the first woman who guessed that Colin was in love, and the first woman to welcome Penelope into her home with open arms.

~

They bought that cottage by the sea from the old owner. He was more than happy a young couple would find a use for it. They also continued to keep their home in London, spending the cold winters there with the rest of the ton.

They brought Aggie there in mid-May when she had just turned five months old. Colin was unsure about putting such a young baby in the ocean, but Pen was insistent.

“She will be just fine, Colin! Instinct will prevail, and she will swim.”

“The water is so very cold, though…” he hesitated.

“I promise, she will be fine. Mermaid babies swim moments after they are born, no matter the weather or temperature.”

“But she’s half-mermaid. The other half is human, and we are not nearly as good at swimming.”

“As soon as she touches that water, she will have her tail and she will swim. And if she happened to struggle, I will be with her.”

“But she can’t even walk!”

“Walking as a human and swimming as a mermaid are completely different.”

Pen placed her down in the sand for a moment while she undressed them both. Colin rolled his pant legs up, exposing his knees, though he was prepared to soak himself should he need to dive in.

“Let’s go, Aggie!” Pen smiled as she picked her up, and quickly splashed into the water and dove in.

Colin’s breath stuck in his throat as he waited for them to resurface. He waded in, his teeth chattering as he shivered.

And then they popped up to the surface.

Pen still held Aggie in her arms, but they were both soaking wet and giggling. Colin could hardly hear her as she said, “Ready?” and let their daughter go. He lurched forward, ready to swim even though they were a few dozen meters out, but he watched as Aggie swam just below the surface.

“I told you!” Pen shouted.

Aggie swam right for him, reaching his legs so he could lift her out, dripping more cold water onto his shirt and soaking him.

“Hello, my darling,” he greeted her through clattering teeth. “It looks like your tail is purple!”

“And your lips are blue,” Pen noted as she swam to them. “You should go inside, Colin.”

“I’m fine,” he said, jaw clenched as he tried to control the shaking.

“She is clearly fine, love. You can go inside while we play a little longer.”

Colin did not wish to relent, but he could hardly feel his toes. “Try to come in by lunch.”

He watched them from inside with a cup of tea in his hand as he warmed up. Pen splashed, threw their daughter into waves, and they dove below the surface to do…well, whatever mermaids so.

It was just something he would never be privy to, he supposed.

~

Their cottage became a sort of retreat for all the Bridgertons, with so many of them staying for a few weeks in the summer months. Slowly, sibling by sibling, they all found out about Penelope’s secret, to varying degrees of shock, awe, and questioning.

Hyacinth, in particular, was very good with questioning.

“So, how wet do you have to be to turn into a mermaid?” she asked one afternoon. It was nearly July, and Penelope was taking care of her growing daughter, the baby’s red hair sticking straight up from her head as she fed from her mother’s breast. Hyacinth was visiting the cottage and was meant to be helping with the baby but was far more interested in mermaids. Violet was with her…somewhere. She liked to walk to the village in the afternoons, leaving Hyacinth there with her brother and sister-in-law, who did not know how to curtail her questioning. Now, with Colin off in his study working on the estate documentation, Pen had to field Hyacinth herself.

“Not wet at all. That’s why when it rains in London during the season I don’t go outside. Even if my feet become wet through my shoes, I could change. Once it happened in a carriage after I’d stepped in a puddle I hadn’t noticed, and Colin had to wrap me in a cloak and carry me back inside our house.”

“Can you take baths? Is it only seawater?”

“I change in baths as well.”

“Your tail is blue, isn’t it? Why is it blue?”

“It seems to be random.”

“And you really wear nothing on your chest when you are a mermaid?”

“There isn’t really a need. We don’t view modesty the same way.”

“So, you feel like you need to cover yourself when you have legs?”

“Yes,” Penelope exasperated. Agatha released her latch, so Penelope maneuvered her back into her arms. “Why don’t you take Aggie and pat her back to burp her while I round up some lunch?”

She kept going as Hyacinth took her from her arms and gently held her head over her shoulder. “Is Aggie a mermaid too? Even though she’s half Colin? Does she turn into a mermaid when you give her a bath?”

Penelope sighed. “No, she doesn’t change in the bath. For her, it is only in the sea.”

“Is that because she’s a half-mermaid? Can she swim even though she’s so small?”

“Yes, she’s quite the swimmer. It’s instinct.”

As she walked away to the kitchen, she hoped Hyacinth would stay behind, but—

“Do you get monthlies when you’re a mermaid? How does that work? Where would the blood come out?”

“We do not get monthlies when we have tails.”

“Do you have to leave the water to have a monthly?”

“No.”

“That must be nice. I rather wish I could skip them.”

This conversation had an inevitable direction that Penelope hoped to avoid. “Hyacinth, why don’t you go sit down so when Aggie spits up it doesn’t go on the floor—”

“How do mermaids make babies with other mermaids?”

God bloody damn it.

“Do you know how humans make babies?” Pen asked carefully.

“Yes! Mama told me,” Hyacinth smiled brightly.

“Well,” Pen thought, trying to find a way to describe the act that would not terrify her. “Mermaids have their…pearls, and mermen have their seed, just as human men—Hyacinth, are you blushing?”

“What?” she startled, her face slowly turning a bright red. “No. I’m listening attentively.”

“Hyacinth, you have absolutely no idea what I am talking about, do you?” Pen accused her. Based on the sheepish look that the girl quickly wiped away, she was very correct.

“Of course I do! Men have…seed?” she asked, clearly revealing her naivete.

Pen rolled her eyes. “Aggie requires your attention, I believe.”

“But—”

“Perhaps you can find your brother and have him burp Aggie if you are not willing to do it.”

“No! I’m willing!” she said, patting the wriggling, gassy baby on the back. “I just have questions.”

“And that curiosity will take you many places in life, Hyacinth. However, you can’t know everything. Not yet, anyway. You have years to go before you’re ready to learn some pieces of information.”

Hyacinth pouted but turned back to sit down on the sofa, patting the baby’s back. Pen poured herself a glass of water and drank it down, the thirst always hitting her when she breastfed. She filled it up again and carried it back to the door of the sitting room, leaning against the frame. Her daughter watched from Hyacinth’s shoulder, smiling as her big, bright blue eyes lit up when she returned.

“Come on, baby,” Hyacinth grumbled to herself. It was not long after her arrival that Pen realized she did not much enjoy caring for babies, but the rule was if you visited the cottage, you had to assist with Aggie’s care.

Eloise surprisingly took to it quickly when she visited for two weeks, even learning how to change a nappy. Kate and Anthony loved it, even taking her for several hours at night so Pen and Colin could have some uninterrupted sleep, Pen only waking to feed her. Ben and Sophie brought baby Charles along and watched as the cousins gurgled back and forth at each other. Daphne and Simon and their four children visited the most, with Clyvedon only a few hours away by carriage. Even Lady Danbury stayed with them when she came to introduce herself to her namesake. Everyone ooh-ed and ah-ed over Aggie as they took advantage of the beautiful private beach.

And, when Penelope revealed that she was a mermaid and swore them to the utmost secrecy, they all agreed.

Pen trusted them.

Aggie spit up all over herself and her surroundings, interrupting Penelope’s musings, and as Hyacinth groaned and started to clean her up, Pen couldn’t help but think how adorable she looked.

“What are you looking so happy about?”

Colin wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her head. “Our daughter just spit up her milk on your sister’s dress and a bit of the sofa.”

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Colin said, swaying her gently back and forth as they watched Hyacinth attempt to wipe up the mess with a rag as Aggie gurgled on her lap.

“Should we help?” Pen asked, watching the struggle.

“Probably.” He kissed her hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Good. Really good, actually,” she whispered and felt Colin’s arms tighten around me. “Your sister was asking me how two mermaids make babies.”

“She doesn’t even know how two humans make babies,” he chuckled, his teeth dragging slowly along the curve of her neck, sending shivers up her spine.

“She tried to weasel that information out of me, too,” she breathed, trying to keep her voice level as her eyes closed, leaning into the feeling.  

“She is too curious for her own good,” Colin mumbled into her hair as his hands started to wander, gripping her hips and nuzzling her ear. Pen’s body, for the first time in quite a while, started to buzz with arousal. She felt her heart flutter, her stomach flip, and her breathing quicken as he embraced her.

“I don’t mind it. It’s good to ask questions,” she said, turning in his arms. He pressed her into his chest as she continued. “It did cause me to start thinking…” she trailed off, hoping he would take the cue.

Colin’s brows rose. They had made love a few times since Pen gave birth, but only when they were alone with the baby asleep in the next room. “With Hyacinth and my mother here?”

“Your mother is in town, and Hyacinth should be occupied with the baby for a while,” she persuaded. “If we go upstairs…”

He did not need any more encouragement and took her hand and took off toward the stairs. Pen stifled a giggle at the enthusiasm and hurried after him.

They walked on tiptoes as they crept into their bedroom, Colin shutting the door and turning the lock as quietly as he could before wrapping his hands around her waist, nuzzling into her neck, and dragging his teeth along her skin.

“You will have to be quiet, love,” he purred in her ear. “We can’t have my sister coming up here.”

“We’ll have to be quick,” Pen breathed. “I can’t leave her too long with the baby.”

“Then,” he said, suddenly picking her up by her waist and setting her down on the bed, “I should get started.” He spread her legs, and she helped him hike her skirts up around her waist to reveal her center to the room. He pushed her back gently with one hand as the other slowly slid up her smooth thigh. She fell back against the sheets just as his fingers touched her curls, spreading her lips so he could look at her, pink and slick with desire.

“We don’t have time for you to admire me,” Pen jested.

“I think you’re just impatient,” Colin smirked, “but I think I am as well on this particular afternoon.”

When his lips touched her bud, it was as good as any climax. After regularly going weeks without anything, and feeling so excited by his admiration and affection, he already had her nearly at the edge. It was like magic, his fingers finding their familiar rhythm as they slid inside of her, his tongue tracing familiar patterns between her folds.

And though it felt unbelievably good, her release would not come fast enough for them both to find satisfaction this way.

“Come up here,” she ordered with a tug at his hair.

He lay atop her, his weight settling comfortably on her body like a warm blanket. She fumbled around for the buttons holding up the placket of his trousers as he kissed her senselessly, drowning in her breaths, her smell, her noises, his hips rolling into hers not helping her lust-addled, trembling fingers.

“I need you,” she panted, “to let me take your trousers off, or do it for me.”

“Ha!” he barked a laugh and stopped his grinding just long enough for her to reveal his bum, his erection springing towards her.

“I know you are rather fond of teasing,” she purred, gripping him in her small hand as she directed his length towards the opening between her spread legs, “but I really do not wish for your sister to find us in such a state.”

“She’d likely scream at the sight of my bare arse in the air,” he chuckled through his groan as she slowly slid her palm up and down a few times, waiting for him to thrust forward and enter her.

“I would rather not traumatize her. Not you, anyway,” she added. “She’s likely a bit scared of babies with the way Aggie’s been acting.”

“Hmmmp,” he moaned as he tried to agree, but his mind could not think of anything but her body beneath his, her hand around him, and he rocked his hips forward and slipped inside of her.

“Ohh,” Pen cried out at the feeling, so wet that he met no resistance, filling her to the hilt in one motion.

“Quiet,” he grumbled in her ear as he started to move. Pen let out a cut-off whine in response.

He rutted into her as she wrapped her legs around his hips, her hands winding into his hair and pawing at his shirt. He only wore his regular white shirt with a plain waistcoat, but evidently, Pen thought he was still overdressed as she unbuttoned him to reveal the deep neckline so she could run her fingers through the hair on his chest.

This position was inadequate, he decided, and pulled out for a moment, Pen letting out a disappointed noise of confusion.

“Come here,” he said, standing up and pulling her to the edge of the bed by her legs. He did not waste time and positioned himself once more, jerking his hips as he pounded into her relentlessly.

Pen did not know what to do with her hands, gripping the sheets and her hair and her breast through her dress, only serving to drive herself further into lust as she longed to rip it and her corset from her body so her husband could squeeze them and pinch her nipples with his large, rough hands as he—

“I’m going to fuck another baby into you,” he grunted between thrusts. “You would like that, wouldn’t you? For your husband to give you another child, watching as you grew larger each month, more beautiful with each passing day…”

“Is this why you have so many siblings?” Pen smirked. “Are all Bridgerton men like—ohh.” She cut herself off with a moan as he lifted her hips up with his hands, suddenly hitting a spot inside her that made stars appear behind her closed eyes.

“No more mentioning my family,” he commanded, relishing in the little cries she tried to stifle with each motion.

“Only if you help me finish sooner rather than later,” she smiled through the pleasure, wrapping one of her legs tightly around his hips to assist in holding her bottom aloft.

“I would be most happy to oblige,” he panted, picking up speed. He did not have a watch on hand, but he knew this had to end soon. He slipped a hand between her folds and found her bud, rubbing circles with his thumb to even higher-pitched whines from his wife.

It was enough.

Pen felt this overwhelming love for Colin as she came, sparks flying behind her eyes and a warm, gentle heat replacing the burning need as she could feel him finish too, letting out a series of grunts as he released his seed inside of her. Though the chance was still very, very low, just the thought that he may have placed their next child inside of her womb filled her with bliss and delight. She barely remembered to try to keep her noises down, her jaw clenching as she attempted to catch the moans as they left her throat.

Colin felt his body failing as his hips slowed their jerks.

“I love you, Pen,” he smiled, leaning down to press one more kiss to her lips before he removed himself from her.

“I love you too, Colin,” she breathed, feeling light as a feather, her body still a bit limp as she hoisted herself into a sitting position. “We should probably return before Hyacinth starts to cry with the baby,” she chuckled.

“Yes, you’re right,” Colin relented.

As they traversed the stairs, Pen noted it was suspiciously quiet inside the house.

“I don’t like this,” she noted.

“Me either,” Colin agreed.

They checked every room, and they could not find their daughter or Hyacinth anywhere.

“Where are they?” Pen said, trying not to panic.

The door swung open to reveal Hyacinth, soaking wet and carrying Aggie under one arm, her tail flapping about against Hyacinth’s back as her arms pounded against her stomach. Aggie was red in the face she was crying so hard, snot coming out of her nose as she wailed, and Hyacinth looked like she had some tear-stained cheeks as well as she tried to cart the wriggling, squirmy, slippery baby back through the door.

“Oh, please take her!” Hyacinth pled as she tried to maneuver the baby so she could thrust her at her mother, but the water on her own hands and on Aggie was making it rather difficult to get a proper grip. “She wouldn’t stop crying for you so I thought I would take her to go swim and I wanted to see the tail and how it worked and she loved swimming but I can’t go as fast as her so I told her we had to go back inside, but the scales are so slippery I had to carry her back like this but now she won’t stop crying because she wants to keep swimming—”

“Oh, my darling, come here!” Colin interrupted Hyacinth’s hysterical babbling to lift her into his arms. The sobs started to move into little whimpers as she breathed heavily through her mouth, her poor nose stopped up as she leaned into Colin’s neck, her little hands fisting in the fabric of his white linen shirt. Pen felt horrible, but Aggie was far too wet for her to touch her at the moment without her own tail making an appearance. Thankfully Colin was well-experienced in holding a wet, slippery, fishy baby.

“I thought I almost lost your baby in the ocean when she started to swim so far out so I had to trick her into coming back to me by saying that you were coming outside soon—”

“You nearly lost my child in the ocean?” Colin angrily interrupted her.

“I didn’t though! I picked her up from the water and soaked my dress and then she nearly slipped out of my arms because I didn’t realize that scales were so smooth, and the water made her rather slick—”

“You nearly dropped my child in the ocean?” Colin raged, clutching her even tighter to his chest. Aggie started to hiccup as she stopped crying, starting to fall asleep against her father.

“Well, no, it was actually when I was walking on the beach back to the house—”

“HYACINTH!” he snapped.

“Colin!” Pen warned. “Aggie is here and safe. No harm done. There is no need to berate your sister when she clearly feels bad already.”

“Hmm,” he hummed in annoyance.

“Let’s go find you some lunch. That should help everyone feel better.”

“I’ll find a blanket for Aggie first,” Colin grumbled, turning to find one in the sitting room.

“I’ll help you wrap her up. Hyacinth, could you start slicing some bread?”

“Yes!” she answered excitedly before rushing into the kitchen, eager to leave the snotty, tearful, whimpering baby behind.

“Are you okay, baby?” Colin coddled and cooed at her, her eyes slowly closing, exhausted from such a massive display of emotion.

They found a soft knitted blanket on one of the chairs and Pen assisted in swaddling her up in it tightly.

“Next time, we’ll just have Aggie in the room with us,” Pen grumbled as Aggie settled back into Colin’s arms, a little bundle of light blue wool and red hair.

“What?” Colin exclaimed in a whisper, scandalized at the thought of their daughter watching as they had marital relations. “We can’t just leave her in the next room over like we usually do?”

“Oh, come off it. She’s too little to remember anything anyway. At least when Hyacinth’s here, we cannot expect her to take care of her alone anymore.”

“But someday she won’t be too little to remember. And Hyacinth did…fine,” he said unconvincingly.

“Hyacinth was nearly as distraught as Aggie,” Pen retorted. After she thought a moment, realization dawned on her, a sly smirk slowly lifting her face. “Is that why Anthony and Benedict are so close in age, but you came along several years later, after they started with their tutors?”

“I’m not sure. Possibly,” he replied, uncertain of the point she was trying to make.  

“And, after that, I’m sure your parents hired a nanny. It can’t be easy to manage so many children. Which left them plenty of time and privacy to—”

“Let’s not discuss what happened behind closed doors in my parent’s marriage, please,” Colin said uncomfortably.

“Well, I’m only mentioning it because I would be willing to hire a nanny if that meant—”

“Yes, we can if you want at some point. Let’s go have lunch, please,” he exasperated.

They made their way to the kitchen, Aggie now sound asleep against Colin’s neck, and saw Hyacinth attempt to slice a loaf of bread with a massive butcher’s cleaver.

“Hyacinth!” Pen rushed over to gently take the knife away from her and the massacred loaf of bread. “Could you not find the bread knife?”

Hyacinth blushed. “Is that not a bread knife? Is there a difference between knives?”

Colin quietly snickered as Pen tried not to roll her eyes. “Yes. We have a serrated bread knife. Here, let me show you how to cut clean slices…”

“Hello, my dears!” Violet arrived home, striding into the kitchen and removing her gloves. “Are we ready for luncheon? What is—oh, Hyacinth, what did you do to that bread?”

“I cut it…” she answered sheepishly.

“I can see that. And why is little Aggie all wrapped up? The weather cannot be too cold for her,” Violet asked, confused, taking Aggie from Colin to hold her.

“There was a mishap,” Colin said, monotone.

“Hyacinth took Aggie for a swim, and it did not go very well,” Pen explained.

“Oh my dear, did you not wish to come in?” Violet cooed, and Aggie nodded sleepily. “Whyever did Hyacinth take her out alone? Were you two not available?”

“We…uh…” Pen tried to think quickly, looking at Colin and willing him to answer for her.

“We had to take care of something…upstairs…” Colin trailed off, but Violet, with her many years of wisdom, caught on immediately.

“Oh, well if that is what happened, then the two of you asked for it,” Violet reprimanded them. Pen and Colin turned beet red, and Hyacinth looked befuddled.

“What happened?” Hyacinth asked. “I thought you went upstairs to change for lunch? Though, I thought it odd you had not changed when you came down.”

“We do not change for lunch, Hyacinth. We live in a cottage—OW!”

Pen smacked Colin on the chest to force him to stop talking.

“I hope it was worth it and I will find myself with another grandchild,” Violet remarked absentmindedly.

“Were you making a baby?” Hyacinth smiled excitedly. Violet paled, but her daughter continued, “Did it work? How did you do it? Was it the mermaid way or the human—”

“That is a line of questioning that shall not be answered, Hyacinth,” Violet interrupted her rambling.

“But—”

“No,” she stated finally, and that was it.

They finished preparing their luncheon, and Hyacinth could not stop looking between Colin and Pen, their blushes never quite retreating.

~

One bright morning in August, Penelope and Colin sat out on the beach with Aggie, trying to get her to toddle between the two of them even though they knew she was far too young. She only managed to fall forward and crawl, screaming with joy all the same.

“Wonderful, my darling!” Penelope encouraged her. “There’s Mummy’s girl!” she exclaimed as Aggie reached her bare toes, scooping her up into her arms and showering her face with kisses through giggles and grabby hands at her hair. “Back to Daddy again?” she asked. Aggie gave her a huge smile and the tiniest of head nods, so Pen set her back down, trying to get her to balance on her feet but not correcting her when she fell again.

“Come here, Aggie! To Daddy!” Colin knelt down slightly as she rushed forward to him, even kicking up a bit of sand as she shuffled her way over on her hands and knees. “Yes!” he yelled as she reached him, picking her up and twirling around as he held her in his arms.

It was perfect.

They could not have hoped for a better family.

When Colin stopped spinning, he squinted at something out on the horizon. “Pen?” he said, gesturing with his head.

As she looked out, she saw the red first.

“Oh,” she said in quiet surprise.

It was Felicity.

When Pen noticed her, she swam closer until she beached herself.

“Could anyone see us from here?” she asked first.

“No, we would hear them coming. And we’re so far from town, no one comes this way anyway,” Pen said, not quite believing her eyes. She had not seen any of her family in an entire year now, and to see Felicity tugged at her heart more than she expected. “I missed you, Fel.”

“I missed you too,” she smiled. “I wanted to check on you. I found this place a little while ago, but you must have been away.”

“We wintered in the city,” she explained. “But we spend the summers here. By the sea.”

“So you still swim?” she asked.

“Of course I do. I can’t live without it, honestly.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she said. “Is that…my niece?”

“Yes,” Pen said, tears starting to fall. “Her name is Agatha, but we call her Aggie.”

“Hello Aggie!” she exclaimed, Colin bringing the baby over in his arms. “I’m your Auntie Felicity.”

“Say ‘hello’ Aggie!” Colin said, taking her little hand in his and waving it as she giggled. “Would you like to see her?” he asked.

“Could I?” Felicity lit up. 

“She can swim, Fel,” Pen grinned. “Let me take her dress and nappy off so they don’t get wet.”

“Only in the sea, right? Like the others?” she asked.

“Yes. She can live a relatively normal life here.”

Pen held Aggie as they both splashed in, next to Felicity, their tails taking form.

Felicity looked a little sad. “You don’t mean to keep her up there, do you?”

“No!” Pen exclaimed, allowing Aggie to swim about. Felicity started to smile again at the sight. “We bought this place to bring our family here in the summer. I would never keep her away. I only meant that she will not have to worry nearly as much as I do about discovery.”

“That must be a relief, I suppose,” Felicity acknowledged.

“Give a shout if you need me,” Colin started to take his leave. “I’ll leave you three to have fun—”

“Oh! Don’t feel like we don’t want you here! I should like to know you better!” Felicity said.

“Well I—I should like to know you, too,” Colin said surprised.

“Pen never did tell me how you two met,” she said brightly, sitting in a shallow spot on the beach. Colin sat down, not caring if his trousers soaked up every wave that came by.

“Well, I fell overboard in a storm…”

As he relayed the story of how they fell in love, Felicity reacted animatedly to every twist and turn their story took. Pen interjected with what she was doing, so Felicity could make sense of the timeline, and Aggie took turns swimming between the two of them before tiring herself out and crawling over to Colin to fall asleep in his lap.

“You asked around for her for two months? Do you know how dangerous that was?” Felicity interjected after he told her of his journey around the Mediterranean as Big Nick.

“I was willing to take the risk, but yes, I knew there was a large chance that someone other than your mother might come looking for me,” he admitted. “I could not see any way around it, however. I never plan to leave England again, so I do not think we are in any sort of trouble.”

“I thought you were a sailor?” Felicity asked. “Your type do not normally change careers. The sea calls to them, or so they say.”

“If Pen and Aggie cannot go with me, then I will not go,” he stated. “I find that the sea no longer calls to me like it used to.”

“Perhaps it was never the sea,” Pen shyly grinned.

“It is possible I mistook the call, siren,” he said low, his eyes just a little heated as he watched his wife play with their daughter.

“Gross,” Felicity scrunched up her nose. “Please do not flirt in front of me.”

“Is it not time for you to return to your own husband, Fel?” Pen hinted, hesitant to take her eyes off Colin.

“If you two are going to stare at each other like that, then yes,” she rolled her eyes. “I shall try to come again soon.”

~

Felicity liked to visit often.

For a couple of summers in a row after that first, she came once a month to see Aggie and check on Pen and Colin. Aggie adored her aunt, never wanting to leave her, even as the sun sank below the horizon.

Pen did not see her other sisters or her mother, though.

She asked after them, and Felicity usually had little news. They still lived in the same spot in the Mediterranean, her sisters had a few children (and so did Felicity, though she never brought them with her), and their mother was exactly the same as she always was.

“She asks after you, each time I come back,” Felicity said one such visit.

“I’m sure she has nothing kind to say,” Pen quipped.

“She asks if you’re safe, if you’re cared for. She asks if Aggie is safe, and what she’s like.”

“And what do you tell her?”

“The truth. That Colin loves you, and Aggie is a darling, and she can swim just as well as us,” she stated.

“And what does she say?”

“Usually nothing.”

“Hmm.”

~

It was early September, three years since they first stayed in this cottage, and they were leaving in a week to return to London as the chill returned to the air. Aggie was two and a half, and already talked her ear off every day.

With Colin in town sending a message to Anthony about the estates, Pen prepared some lunch for herself and Aggie in the kitchen.

When she saw some red floating out among the water, she put down her knife and returned the cheese and bread to the larder.

“Let’s go outside to see Auntie Fel, my dear,” she said, taking her daughter by the hand and helping her toddle outside.

She was not exactly quick, herself; she was once again with child, the end only a month or so away.

“Auntie Fel!” Aggie exclaimed, catching sight of her head in the water. Her wobbly legs in the sand prevented her from sprinting ahead, and Pen was only thankful for that later.

“Careful, darling! Keep hold of me so you do not fall,” Pen gently reminded her.

As they drew closer, Pen did think it odd that Felicity did not swim up as she normally would. Perhaps she brought a guest or two with her this time? She mentioned her own daughter on the last visit, and she may have brought her along to introduce Aggie to her cousin.

“We shall wait here for her to come to us,” Pen instructed.

“Swim?” Aggie asked.

“Yes, once she is close. I do not know if you can swim in waters so deep just yet, my love.”

They waited.

Something was off.

Pen felt the anxiety creep up, telling her that this was not right. She looked closer, focusing on the head floating so far away. It was only one person, and they did have red hair, just like her own. Was this not her sister? Surely, it must be…

It wasn’t Felicity.

The hair was not quite right, and her face was rather stern.

It was her mother.

“Let’s stay on the beach today, love,” Pen quickly urged, keeping tight hold of her hand so she would not dart into the waves.

“Why?” she whined. “I want Auntie,” she said, holding her hand up to shield her eyes as she squinted.

“That isn’t Auntie, that’s…Grandma,” Pen stumbled.

“Grandma is not red,” Aggie noted, confused because the only grandmother she knew was Violet.

“That is not Papa’s mum, my dear, that is my mum,” she explained.

“Mummy mum?” Aggie puzzled.

“Yes. She is like us, with a tail that comes out in the water and very red hair like me and you and Auntie Fel, and she lives very far away. She can’t visit like Auntie Felicity can.”

“Oh,” Aggie accepted this information. “Seashells?”

“We can look for seashells, yes. You can pick up the good ones since Mummy can’t stoop down anymore.”

They spent a couple of hours combing the sand for shells left behind at high tide, careful to keep their bare toes out of the water. Pen couldn’t bend down to lift Aggie up from the water anymore, and she would be stuck until Colin came home should she wander too close to the shoreline, so she was very careful to keep their daughter out of the way of the rising tide.

Pen thought about swimming out to her mother, but if she wanted to come closer, she could have. She took that as her mother only wanting to see, not speak.

She was much too far along in her pregnancy to swim anyway.

The sun was still quite high in the sky when her husband arrived home.

“Hello, my girls!” Colin greeted them cheerfully with his favorite pet name for the two of them, walking back from his business in the village.

“Colin,” Penelope said, her serious tone causing his face to fall a little. Agatha still roamed the beach, oblivious.

“What’s wrong?” he inquired. “Is that…is that Felicity? Why is she so far out?”

“It is not Felicity, it is—”

“Mummy mum!” Aggie interjected enthusiastically. “Grandma!”

Colin inhaled sharply. “Portia? Has she come to talk with you?” he inquired, speaking in a low voice so Aggie could not hear as easily.

“I don’t think so. She hasn’t moved from there for a while. I think she’s just watching, come to see me for herself.”

“Hmm,” he hummed unhappily. “Well, we’re all here now, safe and content. She can leave whenever she likes.”

“Come help us find more seashells, love,” Pen said loudly, offering her hand. “Aggie only wants the spiral ones.”

Though Colin was not entirely thrilled by Portia’s presence, he kept up a cheerful façade for Aggie. After another thirty minutes of shell collecting, Pen and Colin watching as Aggie lined up her treasures by size on the beach, they looked up to see that Portia was gone.

She never visited again.

~

They had four children, only spaced out by a few years each. It was almost unheard of for a human and a mermaid to have one, let alone four. It was likely just luck, but Penelope preferred to think that the Gods, both of the humans and the sea, had blessed and approved of their marriage.

They were meant for each other.

They would fight for each other until the end of time.

She could not imagine another life for herself, one that would allow her such joy and happiness, filled with family that loved her to bits and freedom she never could have imagined in some other timeline.

She could never be happier than with Colin, her captain, at her side.