Chapter Text
1849
London
“Have I ever told you, dear wife. You’re stunning in that dress.”
Penelope paused, placing her book spine up on her middle and glancing down at herself. She was dressed in a slightly weathered and frayed green day dress, one she was certain had a tea stain somewhere on her skirts - all credited to Colin and his inability to mix his two favorite passions; food and her. This dress had run out its use, old and battered and subjected to her husband’s sudden and welcome flights of lust for years now. But it was without a doubt, terribly comfortable. And she was a woman of three and fifty. Comfort was paramount.
“ Uh , yes of course I am.” She said with a shrug, looking up at Colin with a raised brow. He simply discarded his deep blue waistcoat and flung it in the corner somewhere and collapsed onto the cushions of their sofa. Fixing her with his trademark mischievous smile, he hummed to himself as he leaned against the back of the couch and apprised her from head to toe. She was tempted to roll her eyes at him - leave it to Colin Bridgerton to still behave like a young boy of five and twenty when he was quite literally a doddering old man of eight and fifty.
“How has your day been?” She asked conversationally.
“Wonderful,” he responded, inching closer to her and pulling her legs into his lap. “I fenced, I ate, I drank, we all teased Gregory. Then Anthony drolled on and on about financial advice while Benedict tried to count the number of Bridgerton babies and toddlers at the current moment. And then I came home to find my beautiful, tempting wife just laid out on the couch for me. All in all, a good day I’d say.”
Penelope looked at him expectantly and when all he did was softly run his hand over her calves, she sighed dramatically. “Well, how many are there?”
“Wives? Oh just you my love.”
She kneed him in the side and sat up, “Babies. How many Bridgerton babies are there now? And who’s expecting again?”
“Oh Benedict lost count. I was never interested. And to answer your question, Noor is expecting. And Charlotte. And Isabella.”
“Heavens.” That was, indeed, a lot of babies.
“Wait.” She raised a hand, “Which Isabella? Bells or Isabella?” Considering that there were three Isabella’s in the family; One born to Hyacinth and Gareth. Second married to Edmund in 1842. And the third married to Alexander in 1846. Far too many times at their annual gathering at Aubrey Hall, Anthony or Benedict or Kate or Sophie or someone would say Isabella and three heads would turn to look at them. It was truly mayhem in this household. Penelope sincerely hoped none of the child-bearing couples decided to name their children Isabella going forward or it would transcend mayhem and descend straight into chaos.
Colin smirked, “Well apparently there was some confusion around that, created by our very own Thomas. But it turns out it’s Isabella Bridgerton the II - lovingly known as bells .” Ah, so Edmund’s Isabella. And why Edmund called her bells no one will ever know. And given the deep blush that overtook Isabella everytime she was asked, no one wanted to know either.
“Now, let's get back to me and my day.” Colin said purposefully, picking up her feet and gliding up until he lay on top of her. His breath was hot and full of intent as he kissed a particularly sensitive spot just below her jaw. “I think it’s time we rid you of this dress darling. Fetching as it may be, it’d look much better on the-...”
He never got to finish that sentence.
A crash. A curse. And a whirlwind of lace and frill and pure, brimming rage barraged into their living room.
“Mother, I need you.” Agatha, four and twenty stated with barely controlled fury. “ Now .”
Colin sighed and dropped his head onto Penelope’s chest, grumbling to himself as Penelope tried and failed to not groan in irritation. It was a testament to how often their kids had walked in on them in various amorous embraces that neither parties were mortified. Agatha barely seemed to register what was happening or was about to happen in front of her, as she clicked her tongue and made an impatient hand gesture at her mother.
“Yes, yes.” Penelope said in practiced tones, lightly shoving Colin off her as she sat up and adjusted her dress. “What’s the matter, my sweet.?”
“I want them all gone. Now.”
Penelope sighed. Barely thirty minutes before Colin had arrived, Dunwoody had cleared his throat and announced the arrival of four Bridgerton brothers and when neither of them had shown up to meet her, she had known something was up. To say that she didn’t particularly wish to know what was up, was the understatement of the century.
“Who’s them?” Colin turned around wildly, still half spread over him as he was.
“They are unreasonable, ridiculous and absolutely the worst…” Agatha began, starting to get red in the face from her efforts to verbalize just how cross she was.
“You and Charlotte,” Edmund drawled from somewhere behind her, “ Always with the theatrics.”
“We wouldn’t be so dramatic if you weren’t such a boor!” Agatha whispered very loudly, turning around to shake her fist at her eldest male cousin.
“Edmund’s here?” Colin mused softly trying to look past Agatha.
“Please mama,” Agatha turned around, “Make them leave.”
Penelope opened her mouth but was cut off, once again.
“Honestly Aggie.” Another low, mischievous voice spoke from behind her, unmistakably the trademark teasing tonality of Benedict and Sophie’s eldest - Charles. “You’d think we were monsters. You’re forgetting all the hidden sweets and ices and scandalous places we’ve allowed - nay - accompanied you to.”
“ I beg your pardon ?” Colin asked with a stern edge as he pushed Penelope back down to be able to look past Agatha straight at Charles - who instantly stood straighter and let out a nervous laugh.
“Uhm, didn’t see you there Uncle Colin.” Charles said, covering a cough, “It wasn’t me really. It was all Alex.” How effortlessly and without a second’s thought he threw his brother under the bus.
“None of us are going anywhere.” Thomas made an appearance, stepping out from the receiving room opposite them and glaring right at his sister. “I called them here and they’re going to sit in.”
“Sit in?” Colin asked, uselessly.
“While Agatha has callers.” Penelope said in his ear. “ Gentleman callers. Suitors.” Colin immediately straightened up and stood at that. Walking across the room and standing next to an incensed Agatha.
“Yes,” Agatha added in an instant, waving a hand across the assortment of Bridgerton brothers ahead of her, “And I don’t remember inviting either of you. Mama and I always attend to the callers. Alone .”
Penelope controlled the urge to point that there weren’t really callers anymore. Not plural. Singular. Agatha had decidedly gotten rid of her other suitors and only one remained.
So it wasn’t that the boys were here to supervisor and rank her various suitors - but just the one.
Malcolm Addair.
Thomas of course could not keep himself in check. And snorted in response. “Yes, we all know how trusting mother is. And how unaware of you being a little devil.”
“You Thomas Bridgerton can eat a rat. You don’t get to tell me anything… I am…”
“I am your brother, it is my duty!”
“My little brother…” Agatha said sardonically, sarcasm dripping from each syllable.
“Now, children..” Colin tried interjecting but was almost shoved to the side as Agatha stepped right up to Thomas and looked him square in the eyes.
“By one year! And it doesn’t matter, I am still your brother and I am supposed to protect you.”
“Thomas really, you’d think I was indisposed…” Colin said, affronted. Even more so when no one seemed to pay attention to him.
“ HA ! What skills do you possess, pray tell, to protect anyone ? Little boy that you are. No one is scared of you!” Agatha really was pushing it now.
“But they are scared of me.” Edmund said in a regal tone, bringing the entire conversation to a standstill by his silky, confident voice. Without missing a beat, he sat down in an armchair, crossed his legs and picked imaginary lint off his trousers. While he looked at no one and nothing, he knew all eyes were on him. And with those five words he’d brought the childish fight to an end. Every bit the future Viscount, Edmund could command the room just like his father, just like his namesake.
Even Agatha stopped at that. Throwing a scowl at a grinning Thomas and turning to look back at her mother in plea.
Honestly, Penelope thought internally, there were days she wished she’d married into a quiet, serene, non-chaotic family. A family that didn’t have such numbers. And such characters . Especially on days when they were all yelling around her and mostly about something inane. But then she'd remember the warmth that spread through her watching them smile and jest about, just enjoying being together. She'd remember how even if their children were too proud, or embarrased or uncomfortable sharing their lives with them, they always had a barrage of cousins and uncles and aunt's to go to. On those days, Penelope knew she'd choose the chaos that was the Bridgerton household any day of the week.
“I would like to point out,” Miles said, appearing deep out of the receiving room and shifting his glasses up adorably, “I was not informed the details of what or why we’re here, but informed that I needed to be. I do apologize if it’s distressing Aggie.”
Penelope decided just then that Miles was a gift from God to the Bridgerton household. There had to be someone to balance out the complete pandemonium. He was such a dear, assuredly her favorite Bridgerton on most days. Even Agatha seemed to agree, as her rigid stance dropped and she smiled at Miles.
Edmund of course, quite used to Miles, rolled his eyes. “Oh shut it Miles. Just sit down and look intimidating.”
Miles looked at him like he’d grown another head, “You’re quite enough for that.”
“Will someone tell me what’s happening!” Colin had finally lost it. Honestly, he should be used to it by now.
“Father…” Said Agatha.
“Father…” Started Thomas.
“Uncle Colin, if you’d allow me..” Edmund leaned forward in his seat and managed to be audible over her children.
“No.” Colin held up a hand at all of them and turned around to look at her. “Pen, what in the blazes is happening?”
“ Right .” Penelope said with a tired exhale, “My understanding is that Agatha is getting ready to receive M- suitors,” She corrected herself at the last minute, “And Thomas has deemed it necessary to invite himself and the rest of the lot as chaperones.”
Thomas nodded with a smile.
Edmund looked like he did this kind of thing all the time. Which he possibly did, considering how overprotective he was.
Charles looked offended at being referred to as the lot and fixed his aunt with a glare and a dramatic “Et tu Brute.?”
Miles simply tilted his head and adjusted his glasses.
“And, I surmise,” Penelope added, glancing at a tightly wound Agatha, “That Aggie isn’t too fond of that idea.”
Agatha nodded vehemently and looked around at all of them with a deathly sneer. Except Miles, he was spared.
“Is this really necessary, Thomas?” Colin asked.
“Trust me father, it is.” Thomas said in reflex and flinched when Agatha turned to sharply and swifty glower at him. So he added, “I mean.. It’s necessary that all these men learn that she has protectors and they must behave themselves.”
It was a moment but it was enough for Colin to gleam that there was more here than met the eye. Penelope was certain there was. She knew a budding romance had been building between Agatha and her Scottish suitor she met years ago on the fateful evening they ran away from Aubrey hall. She had seen the longing looks, the stolen touches and slow smiles, and she was quite certain they had disappeared for a good twenty minutes last week at Kate’s birthday party. She also knew that since Malcolm had made an appearance in London a month ago, Agatha had steadily discouraged her other suitors to the point where no one but Malcolm, The Duke of Argyll and her family asked her to dance at parties. Considering how social Agatha was, and how much she loved being the belle of the ball - Penelope knew all this was for the odd, shy, bespectacled Scottish Professor’s benefit.
In the summer of 1843, Agatha had formed a deep seeded fondness for the man. And now that she was older, now that he wasn’t too shy to think himself unworthy of her - they were finally where they needed to be, to find their happiness together. But leave it to the throng of meddling Bridgerton siblings to try to mess that up.
What she didn’t know, but was coming to realize, was that Thomas was much more aware than she was. Something had obviously happened, only and only then would he involve Edmund.
But in the few interactions Penelope had had with Malcolm, she couldn’t say he came across as anything other than sincere and kind and utterly besotted with Agatha. She could definitely attest to her eldest son’s idiocracy at times. One has to only look at his current friendship with Lily Ramsey to know that her son was pushing the bounds of obliviousness on a daily basis.
Colin seemed to have come to a similar conclusion, as he looked around and narrowed his eyes at his daughter, “You know what. I might sit in today as well.”
Agatha turned to look at her with such terror in her eyes that Penelope instantly felt bad for her poor girl. She knew her and Malcolm had been stringing up the courage to bring their suit to Colin, knowing it wouldn’t be accepted too easily. It wasn’t the fact that Malcolm wasn’t of any significant title, or wielded power or unbearably rich. It wasn’t even the fact that Malcolm hadn’t taken Colin’s permission to court Agatha. It was the simple fact that Malcolm and his life was in Scotland, a life that Agatha wanted to join.
Seeing his little girl marry was going to be torture for Colin. But to see her leave the country and move so far away was going to be as good as being cleaved in half. Penelope remembered how Anthony hadn’t left his room for four days after Charlotte had married the Duke of Argyll. She figured Colin was going to be no better.
Malcolm was a lot like her, Penelope thought. Unsure, shy and an outsider to the madness that was Bridgertons. Agatha wanted them to have their space, to get comfortable, to chart their own journey. And Penelope had given them that space; allowed them to be alone with the door open, let them stroll the gardens, even go out for a ride to Hyde park. Alas, it was going to come crashing down one day.
Apparently, this was that day.
What she didn’t know, and had no way of knowing, was that at Kate’s birthday party last week Thomas had found Agatha and Malcolm in an embrace no brother should have to find his sister. And then proceeded to punch Malcolm in the face.
But for now, she had to help her daughter. If Malcolm showed up to find five Bridgerton men watching his conversation with Agatha he was going to turn on his heel and flee.
She started with the easiest, levelling Miles with an imploring look which he quickly understood and stood up. “I should take my leave.” He said resolutely, ignoring the whisper of traitor from Thomas and eye roll from Edmund.
Next she turned to look at Charles, who looked so much like his father that it was no wonder that the boy got away with blue murder most days. “I hear congratulations are in order for you and Noor, Charlie.” She said sweetly.
Charles smiled and held his hands up, “Thank you Aunt Pen.”
“How exciting,” She inched closer to him, fixing him with a solid smile, “Fourth child and only in six years. What a wonder that Noor is.”
“That she is,” Charles replied wistfully, his eyes shining with love for his beloved wife. Charles and Noor’s love story was legendary in their family, and she truly couldn’t be happier that they’d found their way to each other after all the troubles. But she also knew that if she didn’t do something now her eldest might just expire from her ire.
“And why, my dear boy, are you not with your beautiful wife as she gets ready to bring your fourth child into the world?” Her master stroke seemed to have hit the mark as Charles moved around uncomfortably in his seat and looked around.
“I'm not exactly her favorite person right now.” He said lamely and ignored the bark of laughter from Thomas.
“Ah!” Penelope exclaimed, “And I suppose meddling in your cousin’s life will bring you back in her good graces?”
“Well..” Charles started, and then frowned at nothing in particular.
“If I may give some womanly advice Charlie. I’d suggest flowers, chocolates and a good foot rub. The older a woman gets, the more difficult the child bearing becomes.” She said from experience, leaning down and speaking directly to Charles. George’s pregnancy and birth had made it clear to her she would not be doing this a fifth time.
“I should go.” Charles said suddenly getting up and nodding at his aunt and uncle, shrugging at Thomas and completely avoiding eye contact with Edmund as he left.
Sighing happily to herself, Penelope turned to look at Edmund who was smiling at her keenly. This one was going to be tough.
“Thank you very much Aunt Pen.” Edmund said with a straight face, his face still adorned with a sticky, sardonic smile.
Which eventually turned into a laugh when she looked at him questioningly, “For what I’m sure were going to be congratulations directed my way. Yes, Bells is increasing. Baby number four as well and we have a strong inkling it will be a girl again. We suppose we’re going to imitate my parents in that aspect. Two boys and then two girls.”
“And before you ask, she’s doing perfectly fine and has no complaints. And I , will be staying put to meet this gentleman.” Edmund had earned his high-handed behaviour from his father and his sharp intellect from his mother. He’d seen Penelope’s tactics from a mile away.
There was no wonder Edmund was revered, feared, desired and worshipped in the ton . He was the best of his parents all rolled into one six foot roguish handsome package. Penelope was certain half the women in London had gone into mourning in 1842 when he married Isabella.
Penelope sighed and turned to look at her daughter with a shrug, as if to say that 2 out of 4 was still good enough. She realized she could easily drag Colin away with promises of a lazy afternoon spent in bed with food and her - his favorite combination. And knowing that Edmund was staying back was enough to assure Colin all decorum would be maintained, but Penelope decided it was time Agatha stopped coddling Malcolm.
He was an intelligent, grown man and it was time he was introduced to the bedlam that was marrying into the Bridgerton household. The father of the woman he wished to marry and take away to a far away land and the male cousin who had taken the role of “ Older protective brother ” a touch too seriously, was a good way to start. If Malcolm could impress Colin and Edmund, he’d already have won the battle.
And so, barely a few minutes later Dunwoody announced the arrival of Malcolm Addair, the third son of the second son of an Earl. Malcolm was greeted with a very nervous Agatha, an apologetic Penelope - who had already approved of the man - a triumphant Thomas, an observant Edmund and a slightly worried Colin.
Later that night, after Malcolm had managed to partially impress all of them, Colin looked at Penelope while she brushed her hair with a strange look. Stepping out of the covers and coming to stand behind her, he whispered, “She loves him doesn’t she?”
All Penelope did was nod and take the hand on her shoulder within her smaller one and give it a kiss.
“We’re going to lose her.”
“We will never lose her Colin,” Penelope admonished, turning around and making space for him on the bench next to her. “She is in love. She has found her happiness. We can’t begrudge her that.”
“I could say no.” Colin challenged, sitting down and threading his hand through her hair.
“And break our child’s heart?” Penelope didn’t point out that Agatha wasn’t one to take no for an answer. She was more the type to run away and get married in Gretna Green if Colin disapproved than give Malcolm up.
He shrugged in response. “She’s young, beautiful, and smart. For the best part of five years she’s had men trailing her everywhere she went. She’ll find someone. Someone in England .” He added purposefully.
Penelope smiled, cupping his jaw and kissing him lightly on the lips, “Would you deny her what we’ve had for five and twenty years?”
Colin harrumphed dramatically and dropped his head on her shoulder mumbling something about never letting Jane meet any Scottish man. Suddenly, he lifted his head and looked at her with a frown.
“ How did Thomas find out? And why would he involve Edmund to vet Malcolm?”
Edmund and his antics at ensuring that his sisters - real and cousin - were only approached by men worthy of them was historic. There wasn’t a single Bridgerton girl who’d made her debut without Edmund’s hawk-like vision trailing after every man that had tried to approach them, forget courting them. The fathers were eternally grateful for his manic over-protectiveness. The mothers, not so much. The girls, well that was another story.
When all Penelope did was smile sheepishly and click her tongue, Colin groaned in understanding - remembering the still visible marks of a punch on Malcolm’s left eye and the bandage around Thomas’ right hand - and stuck his head in his hands. “I don’t want to know.” He said with a shiver. Penelope laughed and gently patted him on his back.
“Think on the bright side,” She said mischievously.
“Which is what exactly?” He mumbled from within his hands.
“We might soon have grandchildren to dot over. Half-scottish grandchildren.” She added with a wink.
Colin whined and shook his head violently at that .
1850
“You know, I must ask.” Penelope asked, wiping the corners of her mouth and placing her fork down. “How exactly did Thomas find out about the two of you?”
Her eldest turned to her with her mouth still open, her spoon frozen mid-air. Malcolm, who had been happily chatting with Jane sitting to his right, turned around so abruptly that he was sure to have cricked his neck. Thomas, who was sitting right next to Penelope, fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat but then cracked a wide smile.
Colin sighed and put down his wine glass.
It had been a year since Agatha and Malcolm married, and only two months ago Baby Archie Addair had made his appearance into the world.
“So there I was, minding my business talking and chatting with Lily and Robert when I noticed certain individuals escaping from Aunt Kate’s birthday party…
“ Thomas ,” Agatha chastised in her new found motherly voice, “There are children present.” She tilted her head towards a frowning George, who at nineteen was far over the definition of child.
“Anyways,” Thomas continued unperturbed, “I decided to take a look. I am her brother after all, and believe me mother what I saw…”
“No, no no no .” Colin said firmly, placing his hand on the dining table and closing his eyes. “Thomas, another word and I might hurl you out the window. I don’t want to know.” And when Thomas eyed his sister and her husband getting redder by the minute, he opened his mouth once again. “I do not want to know.”
Malcolm, who had been looking wildly from Thomas to Colin and then to the open door wondering if he could get up, grab his sleeping son from above and run back to Scotland, visibly relaxed in his seat.
Thomas of course had no idea what kind of shenanigans he would have to employ to convince a certain Miss Lily Ramsey to marry him.
1851 .
“Tell me, brother.” Agatha drawled in a low tone, examining her nails with an intense gaze. “How exactly did you convince Lily to marry you? Over a Duke for heaven’s sake?”
Like meerkats, two heads popped up in a second. Thomas open-mouthed and agape stared at his sister, while his wife, Lily turned into a violent shade of red by his side.
Penelope sighed and rolled her eyes at Colin who looked like he was both terrified and intrigued at the same time. Shrugging, they both chose to focus on almost two year old Archie Addair sitting on Penelope’s lap - all chubby cheeks and sticky smile. It was much easier to focus on their darling grandson than get in the middle of their squabbling children.
Malcolm, the long suffering husband, shook his head and threw an apologetic smile at Lily.
Thomas loudly cleared his throat. “Well, we love each other. It was quite easy.” And when Lily turned around to fix him with such a banal expression only the men in the room managed to control their laughter. Penelope and Agatha made no such efforts.
It was about time someone brought Thomas down a peg.
“Easy?” Lily questioned with a raised brow.
“I mean it wasn't easy.” Thomas responded. It truly had not been easy, for months the poor boy had to deal with Lily being engaged to his best friend. “But I mean. It was very difficult, but made easier by the fact that we loved each other. I had a lot of convincing to do.” He said softly with a smile, and laughed when Lily threw him a wink.
“Ah. What kind of convincing, dear brother?” Agatha leaned forward scandalously and laughed when Thomas scowled at her.
“So when are you due Lily?”
Lily looked down at her bump lovingly and said, “Only four more months the doctor says.” Which brought them to exactly eight months after their wedding.
“An early baby then.” Agatha, the mayhem that she was, took this opportunity to tease her younger brother. Thomas was currently so red in the face that Penelope was worried he might explode from embarrassment, and the nervous gestures he threw at Colin was enough to affirm what she’d always known.
Thomas, “Aggie you little…”
Colin suddenly stood up, picking up little Archie who squealed in glee and deposited the toddler in his father’s lap. Coming back to sit down next to Penelope, he bent low and whispered in her ear, uncaring that their children were watching.
“Let’s get out of here shall we?”
And then he placed her with such a hot look that Penelope felt her ears burn. Decades, and still he made her heart race.
Smiling wide and bright she nodded.
Leaving behind their children with matching disgusted looks on their faces.
All in all, a normal day in the Bridgerton household.