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Chapter Text

Penelope was dismayed; she did not know how to approach Colin after practically begging him to kiss her. Her fingers flew to her mouth, grazing over her lips where it still burned from Colin's kiss. Her first and last kiss. She flinched as her memory flashed back to yesterday when he kissed her. That was the end of that; Colin probably disliked her, she made it uncomfortable for the two of them, but she got what she wanted, right? 

It was well into Lady Danbury's Summer Party. Colin would usually look for her, and they'd chat and dance, but this time she did not see him, and he did not approach her, and she did not blame him. She had destroyed their friendship by asking for that one silly kiss. One she did not regret, which made it worse. 

"Oof, you've done it now, Penelope," she babbled to herself. Even the small chat she had with Lady Danbury a few minutes ago couldn't quell the anxiety brewing in her chest. She sighed loudly, blew air both out of frustration, and moved a loose curl setting over her left eye. 

"That is a dreadful and resigning sigh if I had ever heard one," a voice shocked Penelope out of her slouched stance. She whirled around, not recognizing the voice, and gasped when she saw the very handsome  (new)  Earl of Kilmartin, Michael Sterling, standing next to her.

She stood there looking around him, then looked to her sides, then turned behind her to see if he was actually speaking to her and not someone behind her. Because what on earth was Michael Sterling doing talking to her? 

Penelope knew she was a wallflower, not like she hated being one. She thought herself pudgy, quiet and shy. Colin and his brothers were the only men that would speak to her because she would never approach another man. There was no reason in this lifetime where Michael Sterling would be standing next to her. He must have mistaken her for someone else, surely.

But he just stood there gazing at her, waiting for a reply. 

"Are you… me?" she stuttered out her query; she frowned as she had no idea what she even said, was this English? She shook her head and tried again. "Me?"

Great job Penelope , that wasn't any better.

Michael kept staring at her, the ends of his lips tugging into a small smile. Penelope had never stood in front of Michael Sterling, let alone spoken to him. She had always thought him gorgeous, although he had never managed to turn her head due to her love for Colin. Truthfully, she still found Colin more dashing. It was probably Colin's green eyes, chestnut hair, and such sincere charm. However, it was hard not to blush under this man's stare. 

Michael Sterling had such dark hair and light eyes, almost silvery. He was sculpted and virile? Penelope flushed, thinking of such a wicked word to associate with someone. 

"I am not… you, but yes, I am talking to you," Michael responded, amused.

When it finally dawned on Penelope that he was addressing her, and it was not a mistake, she finally greeted him, albeit unsure.

"Oh! Oh! Hell- Hello, My Lord," surprise clearly tinging her voice as she awkwardly and hastily bowed, startled anyone was even by this corner. Let alone this handsome man. Shouldn't he be out there dancing with a Princess or something? Or rather, Francesca? 

Penelope was not blind to see that over the years, being Wallflower Whistledown, she had watched Michael Sterling watch Francesa, before and after John, may his soul rest in peace. 

"I see you always with the Bridgertons but not a Bridgerton. Your name escapes me," he creased his forehead, straining to remember. Penelope took no offense to that, she's aware she was not memorable. Which then also brings her to why was he standing next to her, commenting on her sighs? 

"Yes, oh, oh! My name is Penelope Featherington. You see me with the Bridgertons often because they are my neighbors and close friends," she shrugged. She was used to being called the one that hangs around the Bridgertons but does not look one inkling like them. 

"Oh! Penelope Featherington, the one who doesn't speak," The handsome Earl said in amusement as if a lightbulb flickered in his brain when she said her name. 

Penelope was taken aback, her eyebrows knitted together, her mouth shut together in a thin line. Yes, she was an infamous wallflower, but no one had been that forward to her face before. She was offended, and it was not someone who was around often. 

God, the fact that the Earl of Kilmartin, who resided in Scotland, and for the better part of the last few years was in India, knew she was a spinster who did not speak embarrassed her thoroughly. 

However, Penelope was way past being the meek teen she was. She had been pretty forward with Colin the last few days on her thoughts, even being as forward to asking him to kiss her… this ruined her friendship with him - why should she stop now? She was a spinster, not like she was looking for anyone to court her. The one person she wanted was probably avoiding her like the plague. 

"Pardon? Are we acquainted enough for such informality?" Penelope knew she shouldn't be speaking to an Earl like so, but she hasn't really spoken to one at all, which was fine by her. If they were as cocky as this one, she was better off not knowing.  

Michael looked at her and shook his head slowly. "Apologies, I suspect my tongue went further than my brain."

"Suspect? It certainly did," Penelope said in a flat voice.

There was silence. Penelope bristled and looked on towards the dancefloor, and she caught a glance of Colin crossing the floor. Where did he emerge from!? She did not see him come in. Her agitation subsided, and it was replaced by her heart in her throat. She couldn't breathe. Was Colin walking this way? He looked like he was staring right at her. 

"I truly am sorry," Michael stated again. Penelope ignored him, her eyes not leaving Colin as her body turned the other way, wherever the quickest departure was. 

"It is alright, I must take my leave," Penelope answered, hastily picking up her dress; she had to get away. Both from this uncanny conversation with the Earl and a looming Colin, although she did not think he was walking towards her. All she knew was that she had to escape whatever odd situation she was currently subjected to.

"Hold on, Miss Featherington," Michael's hand shot out to seize her gloved ones. Penelope squinted up at him in shock as he let her go. 

"Apologies again, I would like to dance with you to rectify my mistakes."

"Honestly, you don't have to; I am all danced out," she said. At the corner of her eye, she saw Colin getting closer, and she started sweating.

"Really? I could've sworn you weren't dancing," Michael quirked a brow.

Penelope frowned at him. "But why? We're not that acquainted to dance."

Michael pondered and shrugged. "Francesca speaks highly of you. A friend of Francesca's is a friend of mine. She had mentioned you ages ago. So supposed we are to be friends by association, can I then be allowed to dance with you?"

"Why would I be friends with someone who just insulted me?" Penelope couldn't stop her words before they left her mouth. Michael, however, wasn't fazed.

"Insult? You misunderstood. I apologize for my bluntness, I merely meant to say you do not speak much, and I have forgotten who you were until you spoke your name," he placed a hand onto his chest. He was truly sorry. 

The more Michael spoke, the more Penelope's desire to leave diminished. On the one hand, this was too much conversation for her with a man that was not Colin, but on the other, dare she say she kind of enjoyed this conversation? Only because she didn't have much attention from anyone (including Colin). 

"Am I not charming enough to ask you to dance?"

"You are definitely not as charming as certain people- families," she quickly corrected herself, not just singling out a person, "in this ballroom." This was true. Penelope thought Colin still won in the charming gallery. Michael was just utterly handsome. How did anyone ever think he was charming? It was definitely his looks.

Michael rolled his eyes and glanced around the ballroom, his eyes clearly landing on Colin, due to him being the closest in his line of sight.

"Are you speaking of the Bridgerton Brothers?"

Bullseye. Penelope, however, ceased breathing for a moment. But he said Bridgerton Brothers, right? Not just Colin Bridgerton, so maybe she was out of the woods.

"The brothers are lovely. They are sincere, much more charming than you," Penelope quipped proudly. She had so much love for the Bridgerton's as a whole, but she puffed her chest up mostly for Colin. He was the most charming. He was also the one whom she wanted to avoid the most after yesterday. 

Wait, when did she start flirting? Was she flirting with Michael Sterling? Is this what flirting is? She wasn't sure. Whenever she tried to flirt with Colin, he usually deflected and patted her on the back, so she wasn't sure if she knew what flirting was. She winced again thinking about those days. 

Oh Codswallop , she knew she was terrible at conversing, but not remarkably so. 

"They are not all lovely," Michael rolled his eyes again. "You best not fall for them. The Bridgertons are a group I wouldn't want to fall charms to."

Penelope was offended. She had grown up with the Bridgerton's and had been in love with one since she was sixteen, who was this Earl swooping in telling her what to do? How dare he, especially if he was related to a Bridgerton, one very sweet, quiet… 

Wait , but then, she saw his eyes dart across the room towards this one sweet, quiet Bridgerton. 

"You mean like you and Francesca?" Penelope questioned before she could stop herself. 

"Excuse me?" Michael's eyes widened as he looked at Penelope, utterly startled. 

DRATS, Penelope, when did you start speaking up?  She couldn't back out now. She lamented. 

"Remember, the one who doesn't speak, since she does not speak, observes," she declares. 

"My, the one who does not speak is extremely witty. How does anyone underestimate you," he kept staring at her, trying to read her. Penelope wished he didn't do so. She was reddening profusely.

"It is because they underestimate that I can...observe," she said cryptically, trying her best not to out herself to a sort of stranger is Michael Sterling. Luckily for her, he was not too engrossed in Lady Whistledown's shenanigans as much as the rest of the ton. He looked like a man who gave no care to it, so he would not notice. 

"Always the quiet ones," Michael murmured. 

"Like Francesca, "Penelope pointed out. 

"Like Francesca indeed. But you are mistaken. I do not have a liking for my late cousin's wife. She is but mere family."

Penelope rolled her eyes. "If you say so, my Lord. That is exactly why you steal glances at her ever so often."

"Now you insult me, Miss Featherington. I do not go around fawning over Francesca, especially since I do not want to insult my late cousin like so."

Penelope's eyes widened, her barb went too far, and she felt awful. 

"My Lord, I truly apologize. I did not mean any offense. I just say what I observe throughout the years, and I spoke out of turn, I am very sorry."

"I can start forgiving you if you stop calling me Lord, and just Michael, please. I am not a Lord," he offered. Penelope nodded, tilting her head. Interesting, he did not like to be referred to as an Earl?

"Michael," she acknowledged. He beamed. 

"Is it just me you observe? If so, that is a confession I dare say," his voice dancing with mirth. Michael abruptly asked, very clever to divert the conversation because Penelope's mood changed instantly.

Penelope, a second ago, felt awful, now reeled back to being annoyed and scoffed.

"Please, I observe everyone, not just you, I understand with your reputation, ladies fall at their feet but I assure you I do not look at just  you , as I have for another-"

And there it was, Penelope accidentally blurted out, something she didn't often do. She stopped herself before she could say his name. Her eyes widened and a hand flew to her mouth. 

"Oh?" Michael raised a brow. "For another, you say?"

Penelope was ready to let herself fall into a hole and be buried in it. Her eyes darted to the side to see Colin talking to Cressida. That witch trying to get her hands all over Whistledown was still trying her damnedest to get into the Bridgerton family. Good luck, she thought, because she knew the whole Bridgerton family disliked her. But for once, thank God for Cressida because it stopped Colin coming their way. 

But, he was probably not coming to see her, but likely to greet Michael. Penelope was crestfallen again. She had to stop thinking about Colin and his actions, and she had to get away from this very unusual conversation with the Earl of Kilmartin, or rather Michael as he rather be called.

How did she even end up speaking to him?

"Ah, I'm parched. This was an...odd conversation but a conversation nevertheless, I'll just be on my way," she said in a shrill voice. Too loudly. 

"Oh no, no, Miss Featherington, you and I, are going to dance, and we shall chat." 

"What?" 

Without a say to the issue, Michael Sterling grabbed her hand and led her to the dance floor. And of course, he had to take the way past Colin, who was still stuck in clearly a boring conversation with Cressida.

If Penelope were not ashamed to look at him, she would've grinned evilly at him, for he thought conversations with Cressida were taxing. However, curiosity got the best of her, and her eyes darted up to look at Colin as she was being whisked away to the middle of the dancefloor.

What she saw in his eyes sent tremors to her core. She had never seen that look from him before. Was he… angry?

Colin arrived on time to Lady Danbury's party; his mother would not let any of her children come late to a close friend's party. He just chose to hide by the corner, indulging in one of his favorite past times at parties like this.

Watching. 

Albeit, he did this with Penelope most of the time, but today he couldn't do so because he was watching her instead. 

She looked deliciously innocent, his mind flashing back to kissing her soft, supple lips. He didn't know what to say to her, so he didn't approach her. He had to sort out his brain and how he was feeling. His stomach was in knots, and he could barely eat. At breakfast, his family asked if he were sick. 

Yes, maybe he was. He was ridden with so much anxiety, and his chest felt so heavy.

He was an absolute coward and felt like a total fool running out of her house the day before after kissing her. 

However, something bubbled inside of him when someone obstructed his view of Penelope. It was Michael Sterling who walked up to her. Why the hell was Michael Sterling in London, and why the hell was he talking to Penelope? He knew Francesca was in town. In fact, after his kiss with Penelope, he wanted to see his mother, but she was in the study with his sister. 

Why were they talking and holding a conversation? Penelope never spoke to a man longer than she spoke to him. He was sure of it. However, he was also confident that no one ever approached her like that.

It was only ever him that seeked her out like that.  

Possessiveness engulfed Colin as he jetted across the dance floor towards Penelope, weaving in and out of the dancing parties, getting closer to Penelope only to be thwarted by none other than Cressida Twombley.

"Of all the bloody-," he hissed under his breath momentarily.

"Mr. Bridgerton!" Cressida beamed up at him, or as much as someone who sneered so much could. Luckily she didn't hear his epithets. 

"Lady Twombley, "he murmured, his eyes darting above her head to focus on Penelope and Michael. Now Michael had Penelope's arm in his hand. 

What in the blazes is Michael doing? Not that he disliked Michael, if anything, Michael was pretty similar to him. A traveller, charming, a rake…  Oh god. 

Oh God.

Fuck , Michael was most like him. If Michael was alike to him would Penelope… no, would she? 

But it crept back up like a tiny little devil with a pitchfork, jabbing his ear. 

Would she like Michael as much as she likes me?

Colin was not going to pretend that he didn't know Penelope was in love with him for years now. He just thrust it from his mind because her love made him uncomfortable, especially if he saw her as nothing else but a sister. However, he just concluded that day in her house that she was  not  his sister. Definitely not his sister... She was far from his sister. In fact, he wanted to grab her away from any other man and keep her by his side. 

He was swirling in his thoughts that he didn't notice Cressida was talking, god damnit, this woman was rambling on about what he did not know or care. Then, in a flash, Penelope was being whisked away to the dance floor by Michael.

His jaw dropped, probably further than Cressida's, whose jaw was on the floor when she too saw Michael lead Penelope to the dance floor. 

No , Colin bristled furiously. He  can  not and  will  not let Penelope mingle with the likes of someone like Michael Sterling. It was probably harmless, just a dance and a chat. Still, there was a sense of possessiveness that overtook Colin, and he did not like the way another touched Penelope. 

But did he not just think a yesterday after their kiss - how come no one else realized how special she was? He did not believe it would happen so abruptly and with one of the most extensive rakes on earth. 

Without giving Cressida any thought, or word, he left her and quickly hurried over to Francesca. He skittered over, seeing Francesca on the other side of the floor and nearly tripping on himself and Anthony on the way to her.

"Colin, what the hell--," Anthony started to curse before Kate pinched his arm, and he yelped. If Colin did not have a mission to tend to, he would've laughed at Anthony and tipped his hat off to Kate. But he needed to ignore his brother's pain and hastily bustled to his sister's side. When he finally got to Francesa, she was staring indignantly at the dance floor. There was a look in her eyes he couldn't decipher, but now's not the time to figure out what was ailing his sister. He needed to get rid of whatever was currently ailing his heart right now. 

He stood next to her and gazed directly at what she was staring at - it was Michael and Penelope dancing. 

"Francesca, not that I do not adore your presence here, I do, but out of curiosity, when are you returning to Scotland?" 

And bringing the Earl-of-kil-keep-his-hands-off- Penelope-martin back with you?  Colin managed to bite back the last sentence. 

Fuck, not Michael Sterling. 

Chapter Text

It was all too abrupt for Penelope.  

"May I have this dance?" Michael asked, but it wasn't like Penelope had a choice. Penelope stared at him as he twirled her around to the step of the waltz. 

If Penelope were not a good a dancer as she was, she probably would've tripped on her face from the confusion of the situation. The last time she was this bewildered was when Colin first saved her from Cressida and dragged her onto the dancefloor, just to shove it up Cressida's face. Penelope smiled fondly at that as Michael twirled her again, so she faced him. She placed a hand on his, while the other had to settle on his chest, as he was far too tall for her to grip his shoulder. 

"I would ask why you are smiling, I suppose for me?"

Penelope chortled; she was slowly figuring out the kind of person Michael was. 

She heard second-hand information about Michael's rakish reputation from the ladies who swooned over him and the men who envied him. And certainly, his demeanor tells so. However, she also heard Francesca defend him when the Bridgerton siblings talked about the merry rake. Penelope could now guess there was a mixture of softness and hardness to Michael, one Francesca thought worth defending. 

"Pray tell where can I obtain such confidence? It is blinding," Penelope returned instead, which made Michael laugh.

"You surprise me, the one who does not speak," he was amused. 

"Oh?" Penelope was growing fond of this nickname he coined her with. She would not admit it openly, but he was charming if he got her to change her mind over something she found offensive.

"You are probably one of my best conversations in a while."

Penelope couldn't help but laugh. She would have to pat herself on the back. According to people who actually spoke to her, she was a good chat, such as Eloise, Lady Danbury… and previously, Colin. He probably wanted nothing to do with her. 

"And I am astonished I managed to have a conversation with you, I uh, I would say I do not do this often," she murmured shyly.

"I would ask why, but judging by the way you blend into the pillars, it is no surprise you do not hold a conversation with anyone," he said pointedly. "If you do not speak to them, they do not speak to you." 

"Someone can hardly miss me with my red hair and sometimes garish outfits," she rolled her eyes. Then realizing Michael was not as familiar with how Whistledown, well,  herself , wrote about herself, she quickly added context.

 "I am known as the ton's wallflower, sometimes called any citrus fruit you may find because my mother dresses me in yellows quite a bit."

Michael grinned and peered at her from top to bottom. It made her flush red. Today she was luckily not wearing yellow, but a lovely shade of light pink.

"I would say you are an adorable walking citrus fruit if I ever met one," he said thoughtfully.

Penelope jerked her head back to look at him and continued to blush profusely. No one said such words to her before and so directly. Her mind blanked for a second before brushing it off. "You are very smooth. I suppose it comes with your reputation; I should not be surprised."

Michael stiffened in the dance with her, as if he did not like what she just said. She had just insinuated his reputation. Penelope supposed it wasn't a compliment, and she wished she bit her tongue; however, Michael relaxed again. But this time, he made her stiffen.

"You do not take compliments with ease, do you?" he inquired. "You never say thank you to compliments. You just compliment back."

"I never truly thought of it like that," she sulked. Sure she overanalyzed what other people said to her, but she wagered she didn't analyze what she said to others daily. "Not like others listen to me," she shrugged. Well, unless she wrote as Whistledown, that was when  everyone  listened to what she had to write.

Michael smirked, raising a finger to tap her forehead. "Made you think. You should think about yourself more," he told her.

"As should you," Penelope returned. "Starting with relieving yourself of my company after this dance."

"Penelope, I truly enjoy your company," Michael said testily, taken aback. "What an odd request."

"Why thank you, and I surprisingly enjoy yours. Although I do not enjoy the evident glares we are procuring," she replied, her eyes darting to the looks the ton were giving them. This included Francesca and Colin, who had expressions Penelope could not decipher. It was not a look of surprise or sneers like the rest of the ton, it had something else. It was different.

"Oh, pay them no mind," Michael said non-chalantly. Penelope gaped at him for a mere second, imagining he read her thoughts, before realizing he was observing the ton, not specifically Francesca or Colin. She let out a small breath of air, one that was almost unrecognizable, so Michael could not hear her slight panic. Penelope gave him a clouded look, looking at him through hooded lids. 

"I am trying, though this is a rare occurrence, and this will end up on Whistledown. And you really do not want that. Therefore I do suggest you enlighten another lady on the floor, perhaps the one you actually truly want," Penelope suggested. The more she was in Michael's company, the more she had to think of words to write in her Whistledown article. 

And so everyone would stop looking at me , Penelope thought. She did not realize she found the attention uncomfortable, but that came with the role she played as Whistledown. She loved being a wallflower, it was her identity, and part of being a wallflower was not garnering attention. Although, she supposed she never received this much attention. So, she would pretend a bit longer that she didn't like it, because she did ashamedly like it. 

Michael Sterling, Earl of Kilmartin, one of the most good looking men available, though Penelope could object (he was maybe second best looking), was dancing with her.

Michael flashed her a dangerous look, and it gave Penelope a slight shiver,  oh , he was so handsome. Now she understood why women fell at his feet. Luckily for her, she was resistant to it, for her heart belonged to another, who clearly, did not reciprocate. Her eyes darted to the side to look at the one that did not reciprocate.

Oh . He who did not reciprocate, was now standing next to Francesca, and was staring and  oh ...what was that look in his eyes? 

"It is difficult." He finally said, breaking Penelope out of her thoughts. 

"Pardon?" Penelope whipped her head back to look at Michael, losing her train of thought on their previous conversation.

"It is difficult to want something and not have it reciprocated," he said slowly, hurt flashed in his beautiful eyes.

Oh.

Penelope felt a pang go through her chest, and her eyes widened. Did she just not think of someone who did not reciprocate her love. It was as if Michael could read her mind. His words were all too familiar. 

She understood him, she recognized him too well, and she could not shut her mouth for whatever reason except to lament with him. No one had ever spoken to her and related with her in such away. 

"I sympathize. I understand greatly," Penelope said gently. However, it held full of emotion. She cast her gaze downward.

"Do you?" Michael asked, head tilted to the side, staring at her intently.

"You'd be surprised. How significantly I understand you. We are alike," she sighed, shrugging her shoulders.  

"I have all night to hear it. About this similar sentiment, regarding a horribly stupid and blind man, you sigh over."

Penelope blinked at him.

"That is who your sigh was for at the beginning of the night. This man you are pining over," Michael stated. 

"Oh, but you are no better," Penelope countered. The ends of Michael's lips tugged slightly, Penelope noticed he gave up on rebutting her. Maybe if she did not say Francesca's name and merely insinuated it was her, he might stop objecting.  

Penelope continued. 

"Well, unlike yourself, I do not have all night. And have to take my leave soon," Penelope had to rush home in time to write about what happened tonight and go to her publisher all before dawn. It would be utterly suspicious if Whistledown did not post when a citrus wallflower and the merry rake had a dance. It's the talk of the town at this point, everyone has seen.

"Then, since I will be staying in London longer tending to matters and do not want to be accosted, may I procure your company from time to time?" He proposed. 

Penelope found herself thinking about this request. It was probably a bad idea, but she did not see why it was. Besides gossips, which she would steer, this was not much more different than her friendship with Colin, or rather, what she used to have with him. She flinched at the thought of Colin but thought nothing of the ask from Michael and nodded without hesitation. 

"Of course. It would also relieve me of another entirely dull season," This, however, was a lie. She had the opposite of a dull season thanks to Colin Bridgerton and that kiss.

Oh, that kiss.  Penelope crimsoned again at the recollection of that moment with him. 

"That I do not understand because if someone approached you and spoke to you, it would be a different tone altogether, I assure you. Less boring, more fawning."

Penelope chuckled. "Fawn is not what you would associate me with, my Lord."

"Please again, call me Michael, since we are friends now."

"Are we?" 

"I wager we will find out if I call on you in the morning and you do not accept," he says, eyeing her with a smile.

"You know, I prefer for no one to approach me. The one who does not speak actually loves not speaking and not being spoken to sometimes," Penelope declared.

"I doubt that, Penelope. You are pretty mistaken. You are intelligent, your quips hold such a skill of wit, and I stand by my case. If more had conversations with you, they would fawn."

The music finally stopped. Michael looked at her and bowed. He kissed her gloved hand, eliciting gasps and murmurs from the sidelines. He still didn't let go of her hand, holding her fingers loosely. He gave her a soft smile.

"Therefore, I ask myself, how does  he   not see."

Penelope blinked at him. Her heart slowed for a split second, did he know who he was? Even if he didn't, his words cocooned her with warmth. He was indeed and curiously a kindred spirit with her. She then gripped his fingers tightly, and she broke into a wide smile.

"And how does  she  not see?"

They both gazed at each other fondly and smiled.

Colin had a storm of emotions flowing through him as he watched Michael and Penelope dance. He was sure Kilmartin liked his sister, sure of it. He very well knew what kind of person Michael is. They were alike, roaming this world with a devil may care laissez-faire look into the world.

However, there was something consistent whenever Michael was around his sister. It was the way he had looked at his sister throughout the years. Even while John was around, it was apparent. 

He sucked in a breath, his heartthrob against his chest as another realization hit him. It was similar to the looks Penelope had given him all these years. However, unlike everyone else's issues, which he took head-on with a shrug, anything to do with Penelope, he tried to push to the back of his mind for years. And now, like a bag filled with water to the brim, he was ready to rupture. Explode.

His sister barely looked at him and did not answer him when he inquired about her stay in Scotland. Impatiently, Colin decided to go directly for his intended question.

"Francesca, what is this business with Michael Sterling, why is he here, does he not have business in Scotland?" Colin attempted again.

"Huh?" she murmured. Her eyes not leaving the dance floor. She was as transfixed with the both of them as he was. 

"He is more prevalent than before, and he has never attended these functions; what is he doing here?" he asked, irritated that his sister was giving him nothing. 

"He is the Earl of Kilmartin now, and has more business here," she finally answered him.

Colin nodded. "Sound...sound.." he was stating that more to himself than to Francesca. Unfortunately, that was a solid explanation of why Michael was more in attendance in London than before. 

"When did Penelope and Kilmartin get acquainted?" Colin had wanted to ease into this burning question that was tugging at his mind since he walked in. However, he just did not care to drag this out any longer. He had no recollection of them ever speaking, and he's known Penelope for 12 years.

"I do not know. He recently returned, and...." Francesca paused as if her train of thought withered away. She frowned. "Why are they so friendly?" Francesca murmured, more to herself than responding to Colin.

Colin didn't care. He pounced on this opening.   

"Yes, exactly! Why are they so friendly, I would assume you know since you would know Kilmartin's agenda." Colin was tapping the marbled floor with his foot, impatient with Francesca's current ineptitude to answer him.

"Why must you think he has an agenda?" she finally now whipped her head to glare at him.

"Because a man like Kilmartin doesn't just-," he hesitated. "Doesn't just swoop in and pick someone like Penelope up uncoerced."

"Why not Colin?" she demanded, then brusquely said. "Is it because it's alike to you when you dance with Penelope coerced by our mother?"

Colin jerked back, his breath hitched, startled that his sister went for him. He blinked rapidly at Francesca, who clearly realized her error as a hand flew to her mouth, covering a gasp.

"Oh Colin, I did not know where that came from," Francesca quickly apologized. "I am far too tired today. Abundantly. I know Penelope is a dear friend, and you're a grown man who chooses whom he dances with."

Colin shook his head, still shocked Francesca snapped at him like so. But he did not blame her.

"I know you are quiet, dear Francesca, but I also know you cut deep," he told her. "Which is why I try not to get on your bad side."

"And you have escaped it long enough," Francesca let out a small fake laugh. Then she grimaced as if deep in thought. She looked like the gears were turning in her head, flinching as if a memory came back to her. She bit her lower lip, a sign of nervousness. 

"I tried setting him up with Penelope years ago before he traveled to India. Or rather, I suggested," Francesca mentioned.

Colin's eyes darted up to Frannie. "Pardon?!" He was aghast. His sister tried to set Michael Sterling, the merry rake of London and Scotland with the sweetest girl he knew, Penelope?!

"What on earth made you think Michael Sterling and Penelope Featherington were a good match?!" His voice was unnaturally pitched higher than before, the temperature in the back of his neck increased.

He then paused to look around, in case anyone heard them, and then composed himself, cracking his neck and pulling at the lapels of his coat. Thank god the music was still going on. However, it reminded him that the two were still chatting and dancing away. Penelope looked weirdly comfortable with Michael, and that set off something else in the pit of his belly.

"I-I thought at the time it made sense,I do not know," she whispered, shaking her head. Her gaze lifting to the dance floor. "He was clearly not interested, so I did not pay mind to it. I just said it as a suggestion." Francesca's face paled. "I did not think that four years later, he would seek out that notion."

"But you planted a seed in his head," Colin groaned, turning his head away so he could swear under his breath without his sister hearing him, albeit poorly. Francesca frowned; Colin was clearly not eloquent with his choice of epithets that he did not try hard to hide.

"Pardon! Colin Bridgerton with your language! What makes you think this is my coercion? They are probably just acquainted because she is a Bridgerton family friend, and they just chatted and danced," she huffed, her voice coming out in a shrill. "I-I am sure of it."

Colin tilted his head to the side and gazed at her. "Are you sure of it?" he questioned. "Because you are not convinced." 

Francesca reddened again. "Why are we-  You  in a tizzy about this. Why are you angry at me? And what is with the inquisition." Francesca asked, tripping over her words.

Her question made Colin pause. Yes, why was he angry, why was he blaming Francesca. His mind rummaged through a list of excuses he could give Francesca. 

"B-because she is like a sister to me, and I want her well being taken care of, and I am aware of his reputation, and it is one that should not revolve around someone like Penelope," he finally landed on. 

He knew this was a lie, he just concluded the day he kissed Penelope that she was far from being his sister. But what she was, he did not yet know. A friend? He had kissed friends before, but this feeling was different… stronger. Much more amplified, it was consuming him.

Francesca had a bewildered look on her face, blinking rapidly as her cheeks turned pink. Odd, Colin thought, why was she blushing.

"But, it is alright for someone like him to revolve around someone like me?" Francesca asked. 

Colin's eyes widened, trust his sister to turn it on him. Bridgerton women were great at flipping arguments, he had to give them that. 

"Oh god, Francesca, that is not what I meant. You know him, and he would treasure you because you are family, but I do not know about others that are not you." He tried explaining without giving away that Kilmartin had always liked her. However, evidently because of today, Colin might be wrong? No, he wasn't sure. Kilmartin was probably messing with him and Francesca. 

Yes, that was it. 

Again, Francesca turned crimson red. Colin kept staring at her, puzzled by her reactions, but her reactions were slowly dawning on him. 

 "I would let you very well know Michael is a gentleman, he would not," she said crisply. 

They both turned to look at the dance floor as the music finally stopped. Michael bowed to kiss Penelope's hand, Colin's vision clouded with red. His limbs licked with heat and the pit of his stomach burned like the fires of hell. His fingers digging into his palm. 

"Really? Is that someone who would  not ? You defend him as if you like him," Colin seethed, finally turning away from the jolly couple on the floor since they parted to scowl at his sister. 

"Well, you protect her as if you like her," Francesca snapped back, shooting him an accusatory look.

They both stared angrily at each other, exhaling deep breaths. Then, at the same time, they realized what they just said to one another.

"What?" they both echoed in unison. Francesca's eyes widened as Colin's mouth parted.

"You speak nonsense," Francesca faltered, her cheeks now an ungodly red. 

"I echo the sentiment," Colin sputtered back.

They awkwardly gawked at each other for a second longer before subsequently abruptly veering away from each other and hastily dashed away in different directions.

Chapter Text

Penelope did not think the night before was real. However, her mother and sisters did not let her live it down, accosting her the moment she stepped out of the ball. She had told them it was a friendly dance, on account The Earl of Kilmartin was related by marriage to the Bridgertons, with that she rushed back into her room to write a quick article…. until she realized she went into retirement after her kiss with Colin. She groaned and rested her head on her writing desk. 

Well, maybe tomorrow will be a better day since Michael said he would procure her company.

The next day rolled around and procure her company he did not. It was nearly noon, and Michael did not appear. Penelope felt a pang of disappointment. Obviously, he would not call on her. 

Yesterday, he was just a bored Earl that decided to pass the time by talking to Penelope. However, she couldn’t push the thought that Michael felt exactly the way she did, in terms of falling for another and that love not being reciprocated. She thought they would at least converse more. She felt utterly lonely at times, having no one to discuss her feelings to. She couldn’t speak to Eloise about her brother of all things. No, she was going to let this pass as another eventful-yet-uneventful event in Penelope Featherington’s life.

Sighing, she decided to pick herself up and go to Number 5. It was a Monday, and Monday’s was her tea with the Bridgerton Ladies. She hoped Colin wouldn’t be there for tea, but she guessed not since this was time reserved for the Bridgerton women. The last time he joined was because he bumped into her in the rain. That was a good day, she smiled sadly. He must still be avoiding her after her silly ask. However, she was not going to regret asking him to kiss her. She was done regretting her choices. Although, she still didn’t know how to face him after their kiss. She decided to take her leave as it was nearing time. She took her usual shortcut around the bend of her house to Number 5, when she heard a voice call out to her. 

“Miss Featherington! Penelope!” a voice called out to her, and she twirled to see Michael Sterling approach her. 

My, was he handsome. This was the second time this week she was accosted by a handsome man on the way to Number 5. The first time being in the rain with Colin. 

“My Lord!” Penelope was astounded when he came around the bend, hurrying after her and stopping right in front of her.

“Apologies, I went to your home, and you weren’t there. Your butler informed me at this hour you usually would go to the Bridgerton home, er the other Bridgerton Home.”

“Yes, I usually go to Number 5 for tea on Mondays,” she stated. “What are you doing here?”

“I apologize greatly,” he sounded sincere. “I had a bad morning and forgotten I was supposed to call on you today.”

“It is quite alright, I am used to being forgotten,” she shrugged. “It was wise on my part not to cancel on the Bridgerton’s.” Michael frowned

“That was not my intention, to make you feel ‘forgotten’, I was somewhat taken aback yesterday, which derailed my mood, which made me forget. I am very sorry, the least I can do is accompany you to Number 5.”

“What happened?” Penelope asked, it piqued her interest. He would not have told her what ailed him if he did not want her to ask. Right? Penelope had a talent for delving into what someone said, and this time she acted on it.

He stared at her before exhaling loudly. Oh, Penelope’s ears perked, and eyes widened. She wanted so badly to hear what troubled him. For some reason, she had a sense of care for him. She had just met him, and already she felt like huddling in a corner and embracing him. Not in a romantic way, she quickly told herself, but more so in a motherly hen way. It was strange. 

He breathed in again and put his hands on his hips, looking down, before looking back up at her. 

“I suppose it is not a secret to you whom I pine for?” he abruptly demanded. 

Penelope blinked, twisting the front of her dress, trying to feign ignorance. “Uhm, not entirely sure….”

“Do not be coy, Miss Featherington. You were all but dying to blurt out her name yesterday,” he narrowed his eyes at her. 

“I am only trying to be discreet, My Lord,” she responded, trying not to smile. 

“Michael, please,” he admonished. “If I am to tell you my plight, the least you can do is call me by my name.”

“Fair enough, My Lo-Michael,” she corrected herself. “But yes, unless I am mistaken, I very well know you pine for another Bridgerton.”

“Another Bridgerton? That means you pine for a Bridgerton as well,” his eyes widened, a huge smile spreading on his face as if he found out a secret. Which, in part, he did.

Penelope gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. How could she be so careless? Somehow her guard was down with Michael, and it truly unnerved her. 

“You’re mistaken.”

“I am definitely not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Can I make my guess?

“No.”

“Please, I need to make this guess.”

“There is no guess since only two are not married!” she snapped. 

“Oh, wow, I was going to throw in the married ones in there, but you’ve narrowed it down for me,” Michael burst out laughing. Penelope again puffed, horrified at herself. She could feel her eyes pop out of her socket.

She gathered her dress and walked past him towards Number 5. She had given herself away. At this rate, she might as well have told him she was also Lady Whistledown so he could win the 1000 pounds from Lady Danbury. At least that way, Cressida couldn’t procure it. 

“Miss Featherington!” Michael called out for her as she continued walking away from him. “Penelope! Pen! I am sorry.”

Penelope stopped and turned around to glance at him. She didn’t know why she acted upset, because truth be told, she was not. She was sort of relieved. This was why they both got along. Their love for a pair of Bridgertons was so alike. 

“I apologize for laughing. I was just overjoyed to know one was in the same boat,” he flashed her an apologetic smile. 

“I suppose it is not your fault for my slip of a tongue,” Penelope griped.

Michael grinned. “No, but I am grateful you did. Because now I understand,” he then grimaced. “Although, are you sure to fall for...well...” he trailed off, not saying the love of her life’s name probably out of saving her face.  

“Well, what? You know who it is by now. It is not hard to gather.” she lamented. Why was Michael prolonging this? 

“I was going to say, well, him ,” he gestured, glancing above her head. Penelope was puzzled but quickly twirled to see Colin trudging down the steps of Number 5, heading their way.

“Oh no,” she whispered under her breath.

“Oh no indeed,” Michael groaned. Penelope wasn’t sure why he was groaning until she saw Francesca trail behind Colin in a Bridgerton blue dress.

“I suppose something happened yesterday with Francesca?” 

“We had a row, after our dance, I was not kind,” Michael confessed. “And this morning, The Kilmartin House was buried in flowers from possible callers. I am not in the mood.”

Penelope glanced back at Colin marching towards them. Neither was Colin, it seems.

Colin was in a grouchy mood the next day after the party. In fact, he'd been in a sour mood every morning since Penelope stopped talking to him. She avoided him ever since, but he was also gathering up the courage to speak to her after their kiss - something he couldn't stop thinking about. He figured today was Monday, and she usually came over for afternoon tea with his family, so he decided to drop by for breakfast and decided to overstay his welcome throughout tea. He could see Penelope then, and hopefully, chat with her.

No one questioned his loitering about the Number 5 until Francesca, the quiet, lovely but astute shit-stirrer, pointed it out. 

Everyone thought Francesca to be the lovely, quiet, absent one. Heck, if Anthony could say which is his favorite sister, it would be Francesca because she had done nothing scandalous like Daphne, insolent like Eloise or rowdy like Hyacinth. 

"Colin, you never stay past breakfast. Whatever are you doing here?" Francesca asked. After yesterday's uncanny exchange with her, Colin didn't really converse much with her today. He didn't know what to say to her, especially after they both ran away from each other. "Don't you have somewhere else to be, usually?"

Colin shrugged. "Just spending more time with the family," he said as he went over to Violet Bridgerton and planted a kiss on her forehead. 

"Oh, that is nice Colin," Violet beamed. "Are you planning to stay for tea then?"

"Yes, yes, I shall stay for tea, if you don't mind," he said, plopping to a seat next to Francesca. He was planning to spare Frannie today, but she started it with her calling him out today. "I would love to sit and hear the Ton gossip about who Francesca is planning to marry this season since that is why you are here for an extended period?" he glanced at Francesca who crimsoned.

"Indeed!" Violet clapped her hands. "She has already been getting callers!"

"Oh?" Colin sat back and looked at his mother. Then glanced back at Francesca next to him. "Already?"

"Too many, apparently," Eloise mentioned. "She's been complaining that the Kilmartin house has been full of flowers the past few days."

"Really?" Colin peered at his sister. She was red in the face, and he wondered why. "Are you entertaining these?" he asked with interest. 

He was genuinely interested. He was bewildered that she would even be looking far, considering Kilmartin was right in front of her. He wasn't blind to the fact the man definitely liked his sister for years. And from yesterday's exchange, he was sure she had some sort of feelings for him too.

"Why not?" Francesca asked defensively. "I am looking for a husband."

"Yes, but are there not others that are more suitable?" Colin quirked a brow, he meant Michael, and by the looks on Francesca's face, she knew of whom he spoke about. He continued sitting backward on his seat, making himself comfortable, and stared back with a grin.

"Oh! Others, who?" Hyacinth popped her head into the tea room. 

"For example-," Colin began. He was obviously not going to say Michael's name. He was not a beast. He knew to keep a secret, but Francesca smacked her teacup, so it fell onto the table and splashed on Colin's trousers. Startled, Colin abruptly stood up, trickles of tea on the right side of his trouser leg.

He scowled at Francesca. "Really?" he snatched a handkerchief off the table and dabbed himself.

"Oh, dear! Clumsy me!" She apologized, but her mouth was curved into a smile. "Which reminds me, is it not time for tea Mother, where is Penelope?" she threw a glare at him that said-  'two can play this game.'

"Oh, you are right. Where is Penelope today?" Violet asked, mainly to Eloise. "It's a Monday, and she's never late," her voice laced with motherly concern.

Eloise shrugged. "I am not Penelope's keeper. She told me nothing. Otherwise, she's just late."

Colin frowned. That was true, it was a little past time and Penelope was always on time if not, always early. 

"Is that not her, with the Merry Rake?" Hyacinth suddenly chirped.

"Hyacinth!" Francesca and Violet barked at her. Colin frowned and looked at Eloise, who burst out laughing.

"What! But he is!" Hyacinth protested. "With Penelope, I mean."

"What's with the outburst, and why is Hyacinth saying things like Merry Rake?" Colin asked Eloise.

"We had a little conversation a few days back, before you even returned when Michael failed to join us for supper. We were just talking about his reputation as the Merry Rake. Presumably, Hyacinth now claims to know what a rake is, and mother and Francesca did not appreciate it."

"Hyacinth still does not understand what a rake is then and now," Violet said pointedly before ringing for tea.

"Asides from the point, but Penelope is really out there with said rake," Hyacinth repeated again, pointing out the window. "It looks fairly heated," she crooned, pressing her nose to the window as if doing so would make her listen in on the conversation.

Colin frowned, but he was more agile than his sisters and mother running to the window to peer outside. 

"What the-," he grumbled. Hyacinth was not lying. It was indeed Michael and Penelope. She was walking away from him towards Number 5, but he could see that Michael caught up, laughing, and they looked deep in conversation. Colin felt his blood boil the longer they spoke.

"Since when did Penelope know Michael?" Violet asked. By now, all her children were pressing their noses to the window.

"I do not know, but I am going there. They shouldn't be alone," Colin announced.

"They're hardly alone. They're in our line of sight," Eloise pointed out.

"Yes, but tongues will wag," Francesca put in, supporting Colin, who glanced at her and agreed. They were throwing sibling antics at each other just a moment ago, and now he wholeheartedly agreed with her. 

"Exactly," he sprang for the door, Francesca right behind him. "And we don't want it blown out of proportion."

"And the only reason why it has not blown out of proportion is because Lady Whistledown had retired," Eloise said haughtily, more exasperated about Whistledown retiring than her friend possibly being in the centre of a scandal with the merry rake.

"It would've been a glorious article too, Miss Penelope Feathertington and the Merry rake," Hyacinth said, envisioning the article.

" ENOUGH ," both Colin and Francesca bellowed in unison.

The longer Colin stood here, the hotter the back of his neck became as his eyes were still trained on the two chatting outside. "I'll get them here, away from busy-body prying eyes like yourselves," Colin stated, hurrying towards the front door, Francesca in tow.

He had longer strides than Frannie and didn't bother waiting for her when he reached Michael and Penelope. Penelope's face was red, and he didn't know what that was about - all he knew was that he felt like exploding.

At what, he didn't know.

"Kilmartin," Colin spoke through gritted teeth.

"Bridgerton," Michael greeted back; some sort of tug at the ends of his lips made Colin want to brush that smile off his face.

"Penelope," Colin shot a glance at her. 

"Colin," she murmured a greeting, her eyes darting away from looking at him. She was still avoiding him. 

"Michael!" Francesca greeted them once she reached them. "Penelope," she gave Penelope a small smile.

"Francesca," Penelope acknowledged with a smile.

"Francesca," Michael nodded. "Well, should we stand here all day and recite our Christian names, or shall we have tea?"

"No, I suppose not, but you both were out in the open, alone, and there are prying eyes," Colin said without hesitance. 

Michael looked around. "I only see the Bridgerton house prying," he pointed at the Number 5 window where the remaining Bridgerton's were looking out. 

"Regardless, you both were out in the open," Colin said. 

"Alone, without a chaperone," Francesca chimed in. "The scandal that might ensue is what Colin is saying. We are here to quell talks, is all."

"So?" Michael queried, and Colin felt like socking Michael. His jaw tightened and he exhaled, he took a step before Penelope brushed past him.

"Alright, we're late for your mother's tea; I don't want to be tardy," Penelope said, zooming ahead of them. Colin turned and hastened after her, leaving both Michael and Francesca behind. He heard low hisses between the two. Not his quandary right now, he had a red-head to catch.

"Penelope," Colin stepped next to her.

"Colin." she kept walking, still not looking at him.

"Penelope, can we talk?"

"Whatever for? You don't have to say anything if you want to talk about what happened the other day," She replied as they neared the steps. Colin wished she would walk slower. For a small, short girl like herself, she walked remarkably fast.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked, surprised at the tone that escaped his lips. He sounded worried, desperate even. 

She paused at the steps to look at him, finally. "No, why would I be? You've done nothing wrong. If anything I have, for asking you to…" her eyes darted to the side. Colin turned to see Francesca and Michael approach them, both looking somber and cross. 

When he turned back to Penelope, she rushed up the steps into the house for tea. And for the whole day managed to avoid him again. 

Colin wasn't having it. He was seeing her first thing tomorrow morning. They had to talk. He had to apologize for what transpired between them. He couldn't stand the riff between them.

The following day at the crack of dawn, he found himself in front of the Featherington home and trodded up the stairs, but a few steps in, nearly tripping on the steps, but caught himself. What was wrong with him? He was usually so composed and suave, he did not trip on god damn steps.

Composing himself, he reached Penelope's door. Before he could knock, the door opened, and Briarly, the Featherington's butler stared back at him.

"Mr. Bridgerton," Briarly addressed. "Was there something wrong with the steps?" 

Colin should've figured her butler notices everything outside their door. "No, I was clumsy, is all. 

"Briarly, is that Michael?" a voice called out. Penelope. "If so, let him in, I will be there in a moment." 

Michael?!

Colin could see her come down the stairs in such a Penelope-type riding habit. She was unaware he was at the entrance, as she was looking at her cuffs, fixing them so her gloves could go underneath them.

Penelope looked utterly delightful in her riding gear, was the first thought that crossed his mind. She was donned in a light pink riding habit, with yellow trimmings at the seam. The hat that went with her attire was round and pinned to her hair with a large yellow bow. She looked like a pink sunflower. It was perfect for her. His breath hitched seeing her in such active wear.

"No Miss Featherington, it is a Mr. Bridgerton," Briarly said before walking away. Colin figured Briarly knew him well enough to leave him at the door. 

"Bridgerton?" she eventually looked up, as Briarly passed her, her eyes widened. "Colin? What -.."

He desired to tell her she looked regal in her riding gear since he rarely saw her in one, but it was also shadowed by the fact she called Kilmartin by his first name. 

"Michael ?" Colin exclaimed. "Since when are you first name basis with Kilmartin? That isn't fitting at all!" He couldn't contain his disdain for it. 

First names implied intimacy. And Colin did not like that.  At all.  He took the door and closed it behind him, crossing his arms, blocking her way out. 

"Excuse me?" Penelope's eyebrows knitted in confusion. She was utterly shocked at who was in front of her door. She made plans with Michael the night before to go riding. No one had asked her before, and she truly was excited. No one had asked her to do anything before, so this was a fun activity for her to do while her friendship with Michael blossomed. She thought it was going to be another eventful-yet-uneventful day for Penelope Featherington, but this was clearly not heading that direction.

She did not expect a gruff huffy Bridgerton at her door in the wee morning.

"You are going riding?" Colin demanded, looking at her from top to bottom. It made her heat up. The way he was gazing at her was intense; somehow, she felt naked in front of him.

"Yes, I am."

"You ride?" He asked. "Why, I haven't seen you ride since you were a child."

"Yes, I can ride, no one has asked me to do so, except Michael," she pointed out. "In fact, not that it would amaze you, but I am a solid equestrian, but mother just never thought a Lady belonged on a horse too long," she shrugged. Penelope had to admit on top of that, she was a good dancer and played the piano well.  And  she was an accomplished writer. But she was not going to tell him all of that.

"Michael?" Colin arched an eyebrow in disbelief. "Again, since when are you first name basis with Kilmartin? Isn't that inappropriate?"

Penelope reddened. "That escapes my lips quicker than I thought. Lord Kilmartin, I meant." Then she lowered. "How is that any more inappropriate than calling you, Colin? And not Mr.Bridgerton?"

"Because you only call me Mr. Bridgerton when you're cross with me," he pointed out. Not answering her question, but instead diverting away from it. Penelope noticed it but allowed it this time. 

"But I am not cross with you," she told him. She was confused by his behavior. "If you please, I am late for my appointment with Mic- Lord Kilmartin," she corrected herself in front of Colin. She needed to escape because she couldn't stand in close proximity to him without her heart threatening to leap out of her chest. 

"Then I will ride with you. We were supposed to talk, yet, here you are going riding. I will go with you," Colin decided.

"I think not?" Penelope was aghast and bewildered. She was hoping to take this time to chat with Michael more, mostly about what to do with Frannie. Just yesterday, Michael had poured his heart out to her. She could hardly do that when Francesca's older brother was around. It also didn't help that her heart still couldn't stop pounding rapidly when he was nearby.

"Why yes, yes I will come along," Colin murmured to himself, inviting himself. His features brightened as if that was the most splendid idea he had. 

"You are not invited to this, I would dare say you are meddling," Penelope's scowled. "This is an appointment between Lord Kilmartin and I."

She did not want Colin there, it was far too awkward, and she hadn't really the time to process him around her, post their kiss.

"Well then, I'll be your chaperone. We spoke about this yesterday. Tongues are wagging, and people are in dire need of scandal. Right now you and Kilmartin are the preferred targets. It would look less scandalous if I was around."

Penelope felt like she was in an alternate reality with this conversation. Was Colin mad? She deduced he was out of his mind. 

"Chaperone?!" She gaped at him, her mouth dropped.

"Yes chaperone," he nodded, tugging at the lapels of his coat. He really thought this was a great idea.

"I hardly need one."

"Oh yes, you do," Colin said, taking a step towards her. She took a step back.

"Why?" she challenged him.

"What would the ton say if you were to spend a lot of time with Kilmartin, without a chaperone?" he questioned. 

"But Colin, we do the exact same thing, without a chaperone," Penelope argued. "The amount of times we have been together alone throughout the years exceeds my fingers."

"That's different," Colin stated as a matter of factly.

Penelope stared at him. Literally, was Colin out to make her angry?

"Pray tell, Mr.Bridgerton, why is it different?" she reverted from his Christian name. She was starting to get cross with him. 

"It just is," he stated, brushing her last question off. She was not having it.

"Oh no no, no," Penelope crossed her arms in defiance. "I sincerely want to hear how this is different. You and I being alone versus Michael and I being alone."

Colin was silent for a moment. 

"Pen, surely you know his reputation."

Penelope was annoyed. He spoke of Michael like Colin hadn't been a rake himself. The only difference was Colin was the ton's darling. He hid it better. She was no fool though, and she was dismayed he would think she was.

"And?" She demanded, turning her nose up. She wanted to see what he had to say, because the man was digging himself a hole and she would help him there. 

"And-and," Colin sputtered, clearly not foreseeing she was going to ask him specifics. He looked as if he was wracking his brain for the right words to say. She waited there for his answer.

"And?" she chided.

"His reputation precedes him, you know that." He finally said. "And I don't want you to get caught up in that."

Penelope stared at him.

"Well, that wouldn't be so bad," she shrugged. She had no idea where that came from, but she was glad she said it because the look on Colin's face was enjoyable. 

"Penelope WHAT?!" his face reddened, and since his collar was buttoned all the way up he looked like a puff over a suit. Penelope tried her best to stifle her merriment. 

She just blinked at him and then bit back a smile. " Oh , you know I would  never . This conversation has taken a turn, and I am going off to ride." She said, sidestepping him so she could go out the door. 

"I think not," He side-stepped to block her way out. 

Penelope gaped at him. What was he doing? 

He realized what he did within a second and subsequently apologized.

"I apologize, Pen," Colin blurted. "I didn't mean to do that. I'm just worried and went ahead of myself." 

"I do not know why you are so worried. If it makes you feel any better, I am bringing Fiona," Penelope gestured towards the kitchen to her lady's maid. 

"Mother insisted." She grumbled. "I'm 8 and 20 I hardly need one as I am on the shelf at this milestone as a spinster." 

She then glared at him but dropped her voice, in case anyone was nearby. 

"We have spent far more time together in the last few years alone, and nothing has happened," she said, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice but she didn't know if she succeeded. This was a lie of course. The last time they were alone together they had kissed but that was very different. She had asked him, not the other way around. 

Colin's eyes widened as if what she said was a shock. "You and I both know that is not true."

She narrowed her eyes at him, a blush creeping up her cheeks. "You and I also both know that what you speak of, the circumstances are different," She said without elaborating. "Dismiss the one event-," every time she thought about their kiss, she crimsoned. "All times were safe, and nothing ever happened. This is no different. Therefore, it would do you well to move away. If it is brotherly concern you have for me, you needn't worry," she said stonily.

Colin's features softened before he stepped close to her and gently picked up her gloved hand. It was a friendly gesture, one he did whenever they danced, but they weren't dancing. Penelope's heart quickened. She hoped he couldn't feel her pulse through her gloves. He pulled her close to him, his trousers brushing against her skirt. His hands slowly trailed up her gloved hands, massaging her hands. It felt soothing.

"Yes, but it was safe with me Pen, it's always safe with me," his voice strained, it was odd to hear, but Penelope didn't want to overthink that. She had spent too much of her time overthinking Colin.

Suddenly the door opened, striking the back of Colin's back, pushing him past Penelope. Penelope quickly pulled her hand away to greet -, "Michael!" She exclaimed in surprise. 

"Pen!" Michael's handsome face popped from the door. "I was waiting outside for a few, and your butler, Briarly, was it? Came around the corner to go to the back entrance and said you were right at the door with a guest. I decided to check-in." His eyes then traveled past Penelope. He craned around the door to see Colin glaring at him. 

"Bridgerton."

"Kilmartin."

Penelope stood between the two men and rubbed her forehead.

Chapter Text

"What are you doing here so early, Bridgerton?" Michael asked Colin, holding the door open. He flashed Colin a raffish grin, one Colin would love to wipe off. 

Colin glared at Michael, not that he had disliked Michael, but there was something about him. The man was good-looking, he was not going to deny that. He was intelligent, well-spoken, dashing, well-traveled, and the ladies loved him. 

He was everything Colin is, and maybe Colin was just a little too aware of that. Too aware that they were alike, that Penelope might admire him as well, and that bloody well bothered Colin. He wasn't going to delve deep into why, all he knew was that he had to prevent whatever this was. 

"What brings you here?" Colin threw back, and he choked a silent groan just as those words left his mouth. Lord, he sounded foolish and childish. He knew how it sounded, and he cringed internally. 

Damnit, too late now; he was sticking with it. He stared down at Michael as much as he could as the man was almost the same height as him. Alright, Michael was maybe a hair taller, he thought bitterly. 

"Er, I am here to ride with Penelope," Michael answered as if that was obvious. 

He was annoyed that he called Penelope by her Christian name, acting familiar. He didn't grow up with her, nor knew her all his life; how dare he call her Penelope. Has he no sense of propriety? Colin seethed. Well, he probably didn't, which is another reason why Colin was against this appointment. 

Furthermore, he couldn't stop glancing at Penelope, who looked delightfully adorable in her riding gear. Surprisingly, the yellow went with her attire, and he liked it. He didn't know what he was thinking, but it was probably because she rarely rode. Colin loved riding. If he knew that she liked to ride, he would've asked her to go with him more, but instead, here he was, standing off with Kilmartin. 

"Well I am here to er, chaperone for Miss Featherington." 

Michael frowned and stared at Penelope, who looked just as perplexed by this announcement. 

"Chaperoning? I don't believe Pen needs two? Miss Fiona is coming, isn't she?"

The fact Michael called Penelope, Pen made Colin snap inside. His blood boiled, and his eye twitched. Kilmartin only just started talking to her days ago; how dare he call Penelope, Pen. That was only reserved for him. Even Eloise rarely called Penelope, Pen. 

Colin stood up straight, clasping his hands behind his back, trying to command the room and addressing Penelope's lady's maid.

"Miss Fiona, you are relieved. I'll be chaperoning for Pen today," Colin said abruptly. Something snapped within him indeed. Again, he refused to delve deeper into his actions today; all he knew was that he wanted to act on it. Right now, his mind was telling him to chaperone this ride and keep an eye on this interloper.

"I beg your pardon?" Penelope gasped out. "You can not be serious, Colin."

Michael raised a brow, amused more than disturbed, and somehow that irked Colin even more. 

"Apologies, if I am not mistaken, and I am surely not - but I believe Miss Fiona works for the Featherington home... not the Bridgerton home," Michael pointed out. 

Penelope's lady's maid stared at Penelope, eyes wide, looking like feeble mutton as if she wished she wasn't caught in this quandary.

"Miss Penelope? What shall I do?" Fiona begged Penelope.

Penelope herself was bewildered, her large blue-green eyes wide with confusion. "Colin Bridgerton, do not be silly," Pen sputtered.

"Hardly silly, Pen," he emphasized her name. "Miss Fiona, I recall you do not ride. How are you going to keep up?" Colin asked Fiona, who was looking back and forth between him and Penelope. 

"Lady Featherington would much rather prefer me, I am sure of it, don't you think Pen?" Colin glanced over at Penelope.

"I assure her mother is rarely concerned about who her chaperone is," Michael answered instead. 

"And how would you know that? You are not Lady Featherington." Again, how dare he speak about Pen, and now her family as he knew her. He just met her. 

"Oh, I had a pleasant conversation with Lady Featherington yesterday when I was here for dinner," Michael said casually. 

Colin gaped at Michael. He had dinner? In the Featherington home? 

"Dinner? Here?" Colin echoed.

When did he even finagle that? Even Colin hadn't had dinner that often in the Featherington home unless they were throwing a party.

"Oh, I was intruding, of course. I escorted Pen back yesterday and decided to invite myself for dinner." 

But then again…. He never asked to be invited for dinner...did he? Realization bit into him as much as the guilt did. It burned him to the core, gnawed at him, it pissed him off, again.

"What are your intentions with all of this?" Colin snapped. 

Everyone fell into an awkward silence, gawking at Colin with wide eyes. Finally, Penelope broke the quiet by addressing her lady's maid. 

"Fi, that is all for today. You don't have to come with me," she responded, dismissing Fiona. Reasonably a great idea, Colin did not want an audience to his audacity today.

When Fiona left, and it was just the three of them at the entrance of the home, Michael sniggered as if he contained the charity in this whole time.

"What? Are you her father?" Michael chortled, leaning forward against the door, keeping himself from toppling forward from merriment.

"Oh, father's new," Penelope murmured absent-mindedly. Colin gaped at her, and it took her a minute to realize she said it out loud. "Oh! I meant, it's always brother, father's new," she revealed, but that didn't quell Colin's ire.

Michael continued his chortle, albeit trying his best to not be outward with it. He failed.

Again, Colin felt like socking him, but there would not be bloodletting today in Pen's house, for god's sake. 

"You do sound like a father," Michael said with amusement. "I assure you Mr.Bridgerton, we are merely enjoying each other's company unless you have something to say about it?" Michael studied him. "Which you do…" 

Colin then stared back at Michael, pausing in his anger for a second, realizing Michael likes his sister, didn't he? Colin could be wrong, but after years of watching the man who was so similar to him, he was sure of it. He should provoke instead of the one being provoked.

"Is there no other person whose company you could enjoy? One you truly desire instead?" his eyes bore into Michael's, and he saw the other man's eyes flicker as if taken aback. As though he knew of whom Colin spoke of. He looked...astonished. That was a sliver of triumph for Colin.

"Colin," Penelope sighed. "Go home, please. I just want to ride," Penelope keened. Colin could tell Penelope was irritated with him. 

"Oh god, Bridgerton, we will be on horses. We can hardly do much while riding," Michael said, rolling his eyes. "Don't worry I'll take good care of Pen while we are out, and will report back if need be."

Penelope shot Michael a glare. "Mi- Lord Kilmartin, if you'd please ready the mares, I will have a short word with Mr. Bridgerton."

Michael grinned. "Very well." He then turned slowly to look at Colin. The man scanned him; a flash of apprehension came across his silver eyes before he tipped his top hat off to Colin. "Bridgerton," he left the door open and hurried down the steps. 

Colin scowled at Michael's back. "I want to knock that stupid hat off his head," he murmured. 

"Colin," Penelope said sharply, bringing his attention back to her. 

Did she always look this dashing? With her pink round cheeks and her stark bright eyes and full luscious lips. That pink riding habit also hugged her full figure so nicely, Colin suddenly found himself heating up from his thoughts. 

"Yes, Pen?"

"Are you unwell?" she blurted.

"Pardon?" Colin blinked, tilting his head to the side.

"Colin, I don't know what has come over you, but you are absolutely not coming along on this private ride with Michael and me," her tone was serious.

"I did not think I did anything wrong. In fact, I am keeping your honor intact by doing so." Colin looked straight at her, undaunted.

Penelope again brought her gloved hand to her forehead and massaged her temple. Colin wanted to lean down and plant a soft kiss on her forehead to somehow ease what was ailing her. He longed to lean down and kiss her again. 

He paused his thoughts and tried to look away but his gaze caressed her round curves, her rosy complexion. Holy hell, he longed to kiss her again. He felt the heat climb up from the back of his neck to his face. 

"You are speaking nonsense again," Penelope retorted testily, finally removing her hand from her forehead, glowering at him. "Nothing is happening, nor is anything going to happen."

A misplaced prickle of jealousy he's felt the whole day coupled with the awareness he wanted to so severely kiss Penelope messed with his head and said words he wished he didn't say. 

"I surely hope so. I am just making sure you don't make it a habit asking men to kiss you," Colin said, words spilling out of his mouth before he thought about it. Once he did, he realized what a grave mistake he had made. He stopped breathing, and he was sure Penelope did too.

Her cheeks flushed crimson, almost the same color as her fiery hair, her once bright shining eyes were now blazing red like an angry sunset. Anger twisting her features. She released a furious exhale. 

He had hurt her. 

"Pen-," he blurted, quick to apologize. Of course, he didn't mean it like that; he just didn't want her close to anyone just days after they shared a kiss. 

She shut her eyes as she raised a finger for him to stop. He did so. He did not want to anger her more than he already had. Her other hand on her side was clenched. Again, she let out an exhale and opened her eyes to look at him languidly. 

"I may very well kiss whomever I want," she hissed at him. A fierce heat burned in her eyes as her eyebrows furrowed.

Then, as quickly as her anger came, it subsided, and it changed. To one of sadness. Her lower lip quivered as a flicker of pain flashed in her eyes.

 "However, the fact that you even said that, no, even thought that grieves me," she said quietly.

Colin's heart sank to his belly, a sense of panic crashed into him like a storm. There was absolutely no missing the disappointment in her gaze or voice. 

"Penelope I apo-," he rushed to explain himself, but Penelope turned around abruptly, pulling the heavy door to close in his face. 

Penelope shut him in...in her house! Colin stood on the other side of the door, astounded. It took him a few seconds before dread slithered through him, and he quickly turned the door.

It didn't open.

"What the hell?!" Colin exclaimed angrily.

"Sir… the other way," Brierly startled Colin from behind. What was this man? He didn't hear him come up behind him at all!

Penelope rendered him a complete fool to a point he couldn't open a door, and he didn't know why. 

"Thank you Briarly," Colin replied, finally sprinting out the door only to collide with Felicity, witnessing Penelope and Michael ride away.

"BOLLO-," Colin was ready to curse when Penelope's sister greeted him. 

"Hi, Mr. Bridgerton," Felicity welcomed him, breath knocked out of her when he ran into her. Luckily she didn't fall on the steps.

"Miss Featherington!" he blurted, holding onto her hands. "I apologize I didn't see my path, I was in a hurry."

"No-not to worry," Felicity waved her hand. "You're just missing Penelope, however," she declared.

"I know I saw her. She's leaving with Kilmartin," he huffed. 

"Did you need to catch up to them?" Felicity asked.

"Do you know where they're going?"

"They're going to the end of park- the gardens, actually," Felicity gave him information that he wanted. It was probably no secret, but neither Kilmartin nor Penelope mentioned their plans for the day. 

"Are they spending the whole day there?" 

"I suppose, riding and promenading, the whole family is going there at noon for a picnic," she mentioned. 

"Thank you, Miss Featherington!" He said to the youngest Featherington. Aha. He knew where they were going. "I will mayhap see you there."

Colin then left her confused as he ran across the street to the Bridgerton home and skidded to turn around the bend of the entrance to get a horse.

"Horse… horse…" he mumbled. With much luck he hoped to not bump into anyone as he was taking his brother's horse however -

"COLIN!" Anthony came round the bend with Kate in tow, "I thought it was you, I saw your carriage out front of the Featheringtons-" 

Absolute bollocks, he was definitely unlucky today. Nevertheless, he stifled a groan and worked up a smile. 

"Hello brother and Lady Bridgerton," he acknowledged shortly at Anthony and Kate, readying a horse to ride on. 

"May I ask why you're taking my horse, is your carriage not over there," he pointed across the street at the Featherington home.

"Too slow, and I can't get a good line of sight," Colin responded, pulling at the saddle tight. 

Anthony frowned. "What on earth are you on about?"

"Do you fancy park time today with the family?" Colin abruptly asked, the word springing out of his mouth as an idea came to his head.

Kate quirked a brow. "Were there plans to do so?

"Not yet, but there is now. I have not yet gathered mother and the rest, but can you do it for me? I suppose some family time today when no one is doing anything would do good wouldn't you say?" he said sweetly. He knew he should lessen his inflection in his tone because Kate was flashing him looks of suspicion.

Anthony thought about it. "I suppose. We don't really have much to do, do we, darling?" Anthony looked over at Kate, who was clearly scrutinizing Colin. Colin knew Kate was reading him, and he disliked that. Kate, while younger, had a few years on him with wisdom and was one of the sharpest people he knew. 

"I suppose. The children would love it. It is a nice day," Kate replied, but her eyes didn't leave Colin's face. "Be a darling and write to the rest of your family to gather at the parks."

Anthony frowned and wanted to protest when Kate turned her attention back to him, and he gave a resigning sigh. "It will be a curt message," Anthony grumbled.

"How do you have him wrapped around your finger like that? I wish to have that power," Colin said as he watched Anthony trot into the house. 

"Why are we going to the park Colin? You never want to go," Kate asked once her husband disappeared into the Bridgerton home. 

"Oh, you know we can play games, just family stuff. Unfortunately, I have to leave," he said, saddling up one of his brother's horses. 

"You never ask to do family stuff. In fact, you don't really like promenading. Didn't you once say the park is where vulture eager mamas go to roam? What is this really about?" 

"Whatever are you on about," Colin said, shrugging it off. "I love parks and a good picnic with the family."

"You are up to some mischief," Kate deduced. "I am going to find out." 

Colin waved her off. He was impatient. "I am sure you will Kate, I will see you at the park," Colin flashed a smile, not wasting any more time.

And off he went leaving his carriage at his brother's house and galloping to follow Kilmartin and Pen, lest they do something terribly scandalous. 

Such as kiss in the sitting room?

His mind tempered that thought in his head, Penelope wouldn't. She wouldn't kiss another man so shortly after Colin… would she? Colin cringed at his ridiculous outburst at Penelope in her home. She wouldn't, so why did he say such an obtuse thing to her?

Colin refused to decipher his thoughts on it, but he knew deep down was that he didn't know what Penelope would do. He never thought in his entire life Penelope would ask him to kiss her, yet she did. 

That was precisely why Colin said those offensive words to her.

"I surely hope so. I am just making sure you don't make it a habit asking men to kiss you."

He flinched. He had no idea what she was capable of at this point.

He took the path which horses would bring to the park, and he caught a glimpse of the two far upfront. He frowned at how quickly they were in the distance. He thought this was a slow ride, but it seemed like they had somewhere to be at the pace they were going. 

Colin paced a little faster but kept a safe distance from them. He saw Michael leading Penelope and then abruptly turning a path that did not lead to the park. 

"What in the bloody hell?" Colin cursed out loud before galloping his horse quickly lest he lost them and when he turned the corner.

His fear was realized. He did lose them.

How in the world? They did not ride that quick… did they? Panic unfurled in Colin's chest, even though it was probably for no reason at all. However, he couldn't shake the weird grip he had in his chest. He hoped to god Kilmartin had morals, and Penelope didn't fall for him. Colin knew what he had to do. He galloped around towards the Kilmartin house and he was going to yell at his sister.

"Michael!" Penelope yelled out, finally catching up to him. She had galloped to keep up with his pace. She thought it would be a leisurely ride to the park but Michael galloped like he was trying to win a race. "Why are you riding so quickly?!"

"No reason, except to shake off a pest." Michael returned, turning his horse around to face hers as she came up to him. 

Penelope frowned. "A pest? You rode like a bee was chasing you."

"Funny that you say that because a bee was chasing us!!" Michael suddenly broke out into laughter.

Penelope blinked at him, confused by his mad outburst. And by the looks of his continuous howling, he was not in the space of explaining it to her. However, his laughter was contagious, and she couldn't help but smile. This was the first time in a long time she went riding, and with great company.

When she first met Michael he was a well-known rake, she watched him as she watched the ton but one thing she did realize was that he wasn't merry at all. He was...unhappy, tortured even. So she would give him this - whatever cured his ailment and made him laugh, she was grateful for it even if it was probably at her expense.

"Oh Penelope, I apologize," Michael spoke, wiping a tear from his eye. "What you just said made too much sense, and you don't even know it." He smiled down at her. "You truly are special."

Penelope blushed. No one had called her special before. "We are not here to discuss myself," Gosh, if she did not watch herself, she could easily like Michael. He was much too similar to Colin. Her mind drifted to the day they were both caught in the rain, she loved those moments, but now, they were gone due to her own selfishness.

Was that kiss worth it?

Yes. Her mind didn't even falter. Instead, the tips of her finger touched her lips.

She would never regret it, she supposed. She was already internally miserable at what had transpired between her and Colin. She thought it couldn't get any worse, after their kiss. However, it did.

"I surely hope so. I am just making sure you don't make it a habit asking men to kiss you."

She recoiled, remembering his exact words. He took a stab at her heart like he always did, and he always left her to bleed. She thought asking him for a kiss would satiate her. It did for a moment as his kiss was now etched into her mind, and she has it as memory… but now he really thought her to be a woman of easy virtue. It got worse. It always could.

The man she loved thought her to be a hussy that would go around town asking men to kiss her, she thought bitterly. 

"Lost in your thoughts again, Penelope?" Michael's voice pulled Penelope out of her thoughts.

"I do apologize. I did drift for a little," she murmured, the tips of her fingertips still caressing her lips.

Michael gazed at her, examining her. "Why are you touching your lips?"

"Oh! Was I?" Penelope withdrew her hands like her lips were coal. 

Michael quirked a brow. "Penelope, have you… kissed someone?"

Penelope's eyes bugged out. "What? No! Of course not. Oh." She crimsoned even more. She was far too obvious, and Michael was far too observant to believe falsehoods.

"I do not believe you. You look like every bit as a maiden caught in an affair in broad daylight." 

"There is no affair!" She cried, horrified. "How could I? I am but a spinster, off the shelf as it is. No one wants me like that."

Michael cocked his head to the side. "Except the one that has branded a kiss on you, you are red as a beet Penelope."

"I assure you the one who branded a kiss on me did not do it of his own free will, rather from a place of pity," Penelope snapped, irritation swept across her chest.

Michael was taken aback, Penelope wished she did not tell him, but she had to set him straight on the circumstance of the kiss he's talking about. He spoke of it like it was a loving tumble, but no, it was the opposite.

"Pity?" Michael echoed, finally dropping his playful demeanor.

"Yes, pity." Penelope swallowed. "Fine, I have been kissed but not out of passion or mutual longing, but because I asked him to kiss me," Penelope practically spat the words. She didn't even have to elaborate on "him" she spoke of. "Hence...pity."

"Penelope-," Michael started, but Penelope cut him off.

"And please, I don't know why but I trust you to keep this in confidence," she pleaded. If this got out, she would be in ruins, and the last thing she wanted for herself was a scandal. She spent far too long writing about scandals that she knew not to fall into one herself, but that was because nothing exciting ever happened to her. She did not want to start now.

"And please do not pity me either. I have enough of that," Penelope said stonily. "All my life in fact."

"Of course, I would never," Michael replied quietly. "On top of that, you hold one of my biggest secrets, which in itself is pretty pitiful. So do not worry about being pitiful because so am I," he said, placing a hand on his chest. Penelope frowned.

"How is yours more pitiful than mine?" Penelope queried. "You are handsome-"

"Thank you," Michael nodded. Penelope quelled her eye roll. How it must be nice to be attractive and know it.

"You are a Lord. You have a title," she pointed out. 

Michael's lips thinned. "The title fell on me. I did not need it." 

"Oh!" Penelope was astonished. She should probably unpack with him, but he did not look like he wanted to elaborate. She nodded.

"The ladies swoon over you-," she proceeded.

"Except one," he sighed like a lovelorn fool. "I was sick the other day, and she came to nurse me. However, she told me she was bewildered that her mother would insinuate we were having relations. Just the thought of her and I having relations somehow offends her?" he gritted through his teeth.

Penelope did not know this, in fact, she cantered her horse close enough to him to pat him on the back. "That is unfortunate," she said soothingly.

Then Michael finally broke the silence. "I wager it is a tie then on who has a more pitiful love life?"

Penelope couldn't help but laugh. "How are our circumstances  alike yet very different?"

"Because we are in love with a pair of insufferable yet charming Bridgertons." Michael scowled. "It is the foolish path we have fallen into, and one we can wallow in with… together."

Penelope couldn't believe her luck in finding Michael. Truly the two of them were kindred spirits, very different in nature. One was a wallflower the other was a rake. However, they fell into becoming fast friends. After the very awkward Bridgerton tea the day before, he accompanied her home. They took a stroll back to her home and chatted, surprisingly, with ease. Penelope was in utter shock, as the only person she could ever hold a long conversation with was with Colin. Still, here she was, with Michael Sterling, chatting freely.

She'd come to know significantly about her new friend. He was kind, extremely witty, and oh so sarcastic. But, unfortunately, he was far too similar to Colin. Her heart ached because she had this with Colin, but it was different in the sense that she absolutely loved Colin, and he would never love her back. 

"Alright, should we head to the park? It would look awfully suspicious having us tucked away in the middle of nowhere London alone together," she said, looking around. Finally, noticing no one was about.

Michael's eyes glittered as their eyes met, his mouth lifting into a wicked smile. "Would that be so terrible?"

Penelope pressed her lips together to suppress a smile and shock. "Yes, it would. The scandal it would create."

"Exactly," cunning swirled in his face. "The attention it'll garner from everyone, especially those we want attention from."

Penelope finally laughed and shook her head. "A most terrible idea Michael Sterling."

Michael shrugged and tapped the horse with his heels and started to move. "Just a thought, besides, I assure you I would be a fantastic suitor," he gave her a bright, toothy smile that blinded her with his charm.  

Penelope blushed profusely. "I do not doubt that Lord Kilmartin," she retorted playfully, but her voice broke a pitch higher than usual. Michael was dangerously handsome and his rakish demeanor came out here and there. Penelope was not immune to it. She tapped her horse and galloped past him, afraid he'll see her blush.

However, as she rode, she took a moment to comprehend what he was implying. Mayhap a scandal, while terrible, could also be the most competent approach. As a scandal author for 10+ years Penelope knew this to be a bad idea, yet an almost splendid approach. It has gotten one or two things done...but, no, the damage that follows a scandal is also too great. She shook the thought from her mind and tried not to succumb to it, but, if Michael were anything like Colin, he could possibly get his way. Because truth be told, Penelope wasn't against it, in fact, an odd giddy rush engulfed her. She had never been part of a scandal before...

Mayhap, mayhem is what should happen. 

Chapter Text

"FRANNIE. FRANCESCA!"

Francesca nearly spilled tea on herself, startled by the yell of her name. "What on-ear-," she snapped her head around. She was sitting in the drawing-room with her sisters, her mother, and Michael's mother, who was visiting.

"Oh, my, who is yelling for you, Francesca?" Michael's mother, Helen, questioned.

"Sounds like one of my sons." Her mother said nonchalantly, taking a sip of her tea. Nothing could get past Violet Bridgerton. She knew all of her children's voices.

Francesca quickly shot up. "I will go see to it since it is I this person is calling."

Hyacinth started to rise, the busybody this sister was. "I will go to see it, ALONE," Francesca stopped her and scuttered away to the entrance.

By the sound of the voice, it was one of her brother's. It couldn't be Anthony; he would sound angrier by nature. Not Benedict; he wouldn't be this loud; he was the softest. This had to be Colin - he was the most audible and most annoying.

Francesca dashed out of the drawing-room towards her brother, who was haughtily pacing at the entrance filled with flowers. Francesca had forgotten the front entrance was filled with flowers from all her callers. 

"Colin, what on earth! Why are you yelling?" she asked when she got closer. Her brother finally stopped pacing and looked down at her. "Mother is going to have questions, and Hyacinth is going to be training her ears to our conversation, so cease yelling," she stated.

Colin swatted a full vase of flowers by the entrance away. 

"Why on earth do you have all these flowers?" He queried before shaking his head, not waiting for her answer. "No. more important matters abound. You are taking Kilmartin back to Scotland posthaste," he said in a low voice as she approached him.

"I beg your pardon?" she blinked at him. Colin was mad. Did he really think she would have that much influence over Michael? She scoffed at that.

"You heard me, I-," Colin's voice grew louder, but he checked himself, lowering his voice again. "I do not appreciate Kilmartin traipsing around London with my friends."

"Friends… or just friend?" Francesca raised a brow. Lately, Francesca has noticed Colin had shown more emotion than she'd ever seen around Penelope. She knew Colin liked Penelope, but as a friend, an extension of Eloise. Lately, however, his reactions were not that of an older brother protecting his younger sister.

She  was his younger sister, and he was less protective over her than he was of Penelope. She had deduced that he fancied their little friend just a few days ago but was unaware he liked her more than a friend. All her brothers were daft like that, she supposed.

"Colin! Darling!" Violet emerged from the drawing-room. Both Colin and Francesca groaned, she loved her mother, but she liked to cut conversations short with her presence.

"We are continuing this conversation later," Colin whispered to Francesca, who glared at him.

"I don't think so," she whispered back as Colin walked over to their mother, arms wide open to hug her and give her a kiss on her cheek. Francesca rolled her eyes, trust Colin to woo their mother endlessly and shamelessly. He knew what he was doing.

"Anthony sent word to meet him at the Gardens. It is going to be a picnic day for the family," his mother said gleefully. "You are coming, darling." It wasn't a request; it was more of a motherly order, simply Violet Bridgerton.

Colin nodded. "Of course, mother, it is I who gave the idea to Anthony," he said proudly. "I think it is but a splendid day to hang about the park, wouldn't you say?"

Francesca eyed her brother suspiciously. He was up to something mischievous; she could feel it in the way his tone was dancing. Growing up with him, Colin had a way with mischief. He had the appearance of an immaculate noble but the demeanor of a trickster devil. He was up to something if he gave Anthony the idea to hang about the park.

What made her apprehensive about this idea was that this probably had to do with Michael if he appeared like this. If so, she did not want to face Michael just yet. They had fought this whole trip to London. Yes, they made up again, but when they saw each other, it was like the air was sucked out of the room, and she could barely breathe or contain herself around him. Plus, she had no idea what Colin had planned, so she better not join this outing. Out of her own sanity, and possibly Michael's.

"Mother, may I sit this one out? It is far too hot for me to be out," Francesca objected.

"Nonsense Francesca," Colin piped in; Francesca shot him a glare. Her brother was a hellion.

"Are you not looking for a husband while in London? That is why you are prolonging your stay in London, isn't it?" Colin asked. 

Her brother was the most dreadful. Even at their age, he was still tormenting his younger siblings. 

Francesca continued to protest. "But I won't necessarily meet my husband at the gardens, will I?" 

"Oh, you will meet him in the gardens, isn't that what promenading is for Mother?" Colin asked his mother. 

"But I-"

"Francesca darling, Colin is right!" Violet said gleefully, obviously excited that Colin even thought of an activity to bolster the probability of his sister being betrothed within a fortnight. 

"We are all going to the park today! I am sure Helen would love to come with while she waits for Michael. He apparently left early today for a ride," Violet said, getting up and going to get ready. 

"Oh! Magnificent, because Kilmartin is at the same park we are heading towards," Colin told his mother, who beamed.

"Perfect, Helen would love to see Michael there, possibly help look for suitable ladies at the park, it is going to be a joy," Violet could not be happier as she turned around to gather everyone to the park.

Francesca glared at Colin, who smirked back at her. Oh, how she wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. Once their mother was out of sight to corral the rest of the family, Francesca gathered her dress and stalked over to Colin.

"What are you doing?" she hissed. "What scheme are you up to this time Colin, I will not be a part of it."

"There is no scheme. You just have to go and take Kilmartin away," he said, shrugging, speaking as though Francesca knew what he was talking about.

She frowned. "Michael? What on earth are you talking about? Why on earth would I do that? He is a grown man, and he can do whatever he wants."

"Yes, he can, just not with Penelope," Colin returned. "They are alone right now, or rather, I am hoping at a park with plenty of eyes on them, but I can not be sure I lost them."

Francesca wanted to retort back with something that could prickle Colin about Penelope; however, Colin's whole sentence about Michael and Penelope was absolutely baffling and impossible. Nothing in that sentence made sense. It took her off guard that she had to pause and register his actual words.

"Both of them? Michael… at a  park?!"  For as long as she's known Michael, he was not a park person. A trickle of unease pooled at the pit of her stomach.

"Yes," Colin replied grimly. 

"Alone?" she swallowed, not wanting the answer, though she did not know why. 

"Yes."

Francesca gulped. She never used to care when Michael had his 'women,' but Penelope was,  well , different. She was a lady of standing, innocent, and was also her friend. "Did we not tell them to have a chaperone?"

Colin fidgeted, rocking back on his heels. "Well, I was to be their chaperone, but they got away."

"You? Their chaperone? That is worse than no chaperone. You are a terrible chaperone." Francesca grimaced. Colin was a meddler. Colin, as a chaperone, was just asking for trouble. As far as she knew her brother, he was either an accomplice to something or a detriment to something. 

Colin scowled at her. "I am not!"

"Then why are you not chaperoning them currently?" Francesca queried.

"Because they got away, that bloody swine Kilmartin rode Penelope away from sight," Colin retorted, clearly vexed. Francesca had not seen this side of her brother. It was amusing if she wasn't herself disturbed by Michael and Penelope's sudden closeness. She cringed at his choice of words for Michael and she did not appreciate it. Lately, from her sisters to her brother calling Michael all sorts, it offended her. 

"Shh, keep your voice low. There is a bee buzzing around by the name of Hyacinth. She is but probably lurking around." Francesca hissed, keeping her voice low. "And Michael is a gentleman. We spoke about this. He would never."

Never what? Neither she nor Colin confirmed what he would do, nor did she think they wanted to define it. She just believed their closeness was one of friendship. Not one where he would… ever be wicked with. She shuddered, followed by a hollow ache swelling in her chest.

"Would he? He had purposely led Penelope off riding elsewhere out of my gaze." 

Francesca paused and looked at her brother, tilting her head. "Out of your gaze? Colin, were you following them without invitation?"

"I was chaperoning. And lost sight of them is all," Colin fidgeted, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. He placed both his hands on his waist.

"You have gone mad," Francesca gawked at Colin. "You are bothered by Penelope. I have never seen you like this - I would have liked to see how frantically you were chasing them."

Colin reddened. "She.. she is my friend. Eloise's friend, your friend," Colin started stuttering. Francesca couldn't hide her smile. She indeed had never seen her brother so flustered before. "It is true I am displeased that they are close, are you not?" he demanded, trying to change the subject. 

It worked. 

"I-... I am not sure," she murmured. 

 "Actually, upon further lamenting, I don't know what I should be displeased about. I have seen Michael with plenty of women in the years I've known him. None were serious, and do not fret because the type of women Michael usually goes for is someone who isn't like Penelope. So he would not dare be a rake towards her if that is what you are worried about." she replied, turning her nose up, acting as if this didn't bother her only because Michael had been a rake since she's known him. However, this was different, a small voice insistently nagged her. She quelled it. 

However, a more genuine, prominent voice penetrated her thoughts.

"Yes, alright. But has he ever gone riding with them, sat down for dinner with their families, or even gone promenading with any of them?" Colin asked her, more out of curiosity than anything else.

Shock registered on Francesca's face when Colin listed the things Michael was currently doing with Penelope. She quickly tried to hide her expression, but it was out there. She was disturbed by it. In truth, she did not know why her chest was squeezing, and her mind was in complete turmoil ever since Michael came back to London. They seem to have fought every day, and they rarely did so in the past. There was tension when they were together, and it uneased her, which is why she wanted to keep her distance from him and quickly find him a wife. Yes, everything will go back to normal if he had a wife!

"No, but again, he is a grown man he can do whatever he wants," she forced out in an uneven tone.

"Do you want to get married, Francesca?" Colin demanded abruptly, letting out a long-suffering sigh.

Francesca grimaced, surprised at her brother's change of topic. She was thrown off, as well as irritated that he had asked an intimate yet known question to her. He knew what the answer would be, so why was he asking.

"What has this got to do with Penelope and Michael?" she questioned.

"Do you want to get married?" Colin repeated.

"Of course, I plan to remarry," she snapped. "I want a child Colin, this is no secret." 

Before Colin could say anything, the Kilmartin house butler popped up behind them with another bushel of flowers. "My lady, more flowers from callers have arrived. Shall I let them know you are unavailable?"

Francesca sighed. "Yes, please. I am not taking any callers today," she thanked her butler before looking back at her brother, who was now looking around him.

"This is where all the flowers are coming from, your callers," he murmured. "Mhmm, mmhm. And I wonder why you need to look far for one…" he said absentmindedly, almost a whisper than it was a comment to her.

"Pardon?" Francesca was not certain she understood her brother. 

"You have something right in front of you, and yet you are truly not aware of it?" Colin gazed at her, raising a brow. 

"Colin, I am growing weary of your games, for that, I will not go out. I am tired." Francesca was drained from Colin's cryptic remarks, and she was suddenly in no mood to entertain anyone, including her family. She was also not going to deny that her state definitely shifted when Colin told her about Penelope and Michael.

However, she should be happy for him, shouldn't she? She had always thought Michael flitted from woman to woman, with no aim and it bothered her. It bothered her so much, she was pushing him to find a wife.

"We are going to the park whether you want to or not. I am not going to let Kilmartin spend another second with Penelope with or without a chaperone," Colin said. 

 "Why are you so adamant about this? What if Penelope is suitable for him? Should you not be happy for them? Is she not your  friend? " As Francesca said these words, a stab of pain sliced through her chest, and she balled her fists into her skirts as a reaction. She continued to talk without thinking as a panicky sensation overcame her.

"That way, you can stop dancing with her every season you return from your travels. Let the girl dance with someone else. We all know you only dance with her because mother coerced you years ago, lest it now has become a habit you can end."

As soon as the words left her mouth, she wished she hadn't. She was as shocked as Colin looked. 

Colin stared at his sister, exasperated with her. "Frannie, are you blind?" he asked, the question coming out like a taunt.

Francesca whipped her head up at him and glared. "I could ask the same for you," Francesca retorted. They both glared at each other, silence filling the room as they both registered what they said to each other. 

"I don't want to stop dancing with her," Colin said. "Insinuating they were pity dances is insulting to Penelope," Colin's jaw hardened,but he looked away. Francesca swore there was a hint of guilt in his eyes. Maybe what she said was too close to home. She truly regretted it. 

Oh, My… Francesca thought. This was not what she expected. Maybe Colin was more entrenched in his feelings for Penelope. Maybe, did she dare tread on the thought...he  liked  Penelope more than she thought he did?

"I... apologize Colin, I did not say they were pity dances. I know she is...precious to you." Francesca said quietly, clasping her hands together, studying her brother. She saw him flinch when she said precious. At that moment, more voices could be heard as their families floundered about them, hurrying them to get to the park.

Francesca sighed at the intrusion. Her fight with her brother got them nowhere. "Have you finished your tantrum, Colin?" Francesca queried quietly, smoothing over her skirt as her family skipped down the steps past them. Francesca would not question how she had to wave the flag as the younger one and not her older brother. 

"I don't know. Are you planning to come to the park with me?" He asked silently, his face red as blood sausage. Francesca had never seen her brother so distressed. He was the charmer, the calm mischievous one - so well put together, laughed things off. Here he was, the complete opposite of what she knew him as. 

He opened his mouth to say something else but thought better of it, only to shut it back. He stood up straight and smoothed the lapels of his coat. While Francesca was miffed with Colin, she could not continue to torment him like this. She loved her brother dearly, and he really wanted her to go to the park with him. She had no idea what he was up to, but she would oblige. 

Francesca nodded. "Good if you have finished, fine I will go to the park with you, but only because I am forced,' she took a step towards him, and he offered her his arm, which she linked through his. 

"Surely not only because you are forced. You are curious about this relationship yourself," Colin muttered as they both walked down to the carriage waiting for them, still whispering amongst themselves.

"No, I am not, if anything, I am extremely happy for Michael if he has found something in Penelope that he did not in other women before," Again, like minutes before, as the words flowed from her mouth, Francesca felt like she ate lead, shuddering, as her stomach felt queasy and her hands wouldn't stop shaking. She gripped Colin's arm to prevent them from moving.

She was lost in her emotions, and for a brief second, she could've sworn she heard her brother growl. Colin...the most charming brother...growl? No, she must've imagined it.

"Shall we promenade?" Michael asked Penelope after helping her off her horse and offering her his arm.

"You are asking me? To.. promenade with you out in the open?" Penelope balked, looking around at the park that had already started to fill up. 

"Was that not the plan initially?" Michael questioned as he helped Penelope off her horse. "Ride to the park and promenade?" he inquired. 

Michael did  not  promenade, he  did not like  to promenade, but Penelope mentioned she had never done one. He decided it would be an excellent time to promenade with her. It also gave him time to talk to her. He had never had such a familiar in someone before. The closest he had was John, but he undoubtedly could not speak to John due to circumstances involving whom John was married to. Again, Michael felt a tight fist constrict around his heart as a wave of shame washed through him. He wanted Penelope's companionship because he could never talk to someone like this before. While he was fortunate, he also felt immense shame, self-loathing. 

"Yes, but with my family, my family is not here yet. You do not want to be seen with me alone. Tongues will wag."

"We were already alone before we came here. Tongues will wag," Michael really did not care about the ton as much as others did. He was already labeled a Merry Rake, a title he did not like. What was the worst that could befall him? 

"You do not want to?" he extended out his arm for her to take. She hesitated, looking at the gaggle of people starting to promenade in the park. 

"Oh, of course I do! I just…" she trailed off. "I've never really done this before, with anyone, so I don't know how to act." She confessed, finally allowing herself to grip on Michael's arm and take a walk with him.

"I merely wish to live a little," Penelope lamented to him. "I say this, and yet I am afraid of a little walk with you, for I shudder at what the ton thinks."

Michael tilted his head to the side. "What would that entail? Living a little?"

"I do love the way you and Colin could travel the world, enjoy things. Whereas I barely even received a kiss, promenade, or ride." She paused. "Although I have done both today, thanks to you. Well..the last two I meant." she blushed and gave him a large smile which truly tugged at Michael's heart. He had never had a close friend like this in a woman before. Francesca did not count. He was in love with her. Although Michael was starting to have feelings for Penelope, but not the same ones he feels for Francesca. Surely, it was a feeling of a kindred soul.

Penelope's satisfaction somehow translated into his. He was happy he managed to give her at least what she wanted for the day. Too bad he could not give her what she wanted the most because he was having a hard time himself trying to get the same thing. A Bridgerton's love. 

"Worthy desire, although I see your worry. You can not do it yourself." Michael acknowledged. "Although, I promise you, if the silly Bridgerton does not realize it and ask your hand in marriage, I will take you on these travels."

Penelope's eyes widened. "Truly?" She was ecstatic. "Honestly, I probably could travel soon, now that I am a spinster, or soon to be, I am sure once I turn thirty, all eyes will fall off me, and I could be free to roam!" 

She then paused, then narrowed her eyes at him. "We both know he will never ask for me. Let us be sensible, Michael."

"You do not know that," he squeezed her arm. How he wanted to smack some sense into Colin. He could've sworn he saw a fire in Colin's eyes the last few days when he was around Penelope. Colin had feelings for her. He just did not know how to act on it yet. Michael could not mistake that look of, well,  possessiveness  in his eyes. Colin, on several occasions, had served like a jealous suitor, who was not yet courting Penelope. It was evident to everyone except both Penelope and Colin. 

Maybe a little nudge would help, Michael thought mischievously. 

"HAH." Penelope scoffed. "I do know that. I quote -I will  never  marry Penelope Featherington he said once." Penelope's voice was laced with bitterness that Michael related to on the same profound level.

Michael scowled at Penelope. "Did he really say such a thing?" 

Penelope nodded. "Yes. To his brothers. Granted, he did not know I was there till after he said it. It was horrible for everyone involved."

"And you still like this imbecile?" Michael demanded, baffled at Penelope's tenacity at loving this particular Bridgerton. Honestly, he wanted to know what was so special about Colin. 

Penelope gave out a loud laugh and stifled her mouth with her gloved hand. "He was never malicious in his words or intent, he is lovely, and kind, sweet, silly. He dances with me every season, listens to me talk, as I listen to him. We are friends, and I just have loved him for a long time - I truly do not know anything else." She replied, her voice both full of passion and melancholy. Her love for Colin was genuine and painful.

It positively bit Michael's chest, because he knew precisely how Penelope felt. It was how he felt for Francesca as well. It was definitely a feeling he had never felt for any woman. And all the while she was with John, he was friends with Frannie. They spoke like friends, they spent a lot of time together, the three of them. It was inevitable, and he couldn't stop loving her.

Echoing Penelope's sentiment - He truly did not know anything else.

"Well, at least he did not tell you to your face," Michael responded, trying to lighten the mood. It was getting too somber with both of them wallowing over two Bridgertons. "Mine just said it to my face, as opposed to behind my back." 

Penelope stared at him before bursting out into laughter. "Are you comparing our situations? Well, you are right, I suppose. You didn't overhear it accidentally. At least Francesca said it to your face," Penelope chuckled. "She was forward, at least."

"He is quite daft," Michael declared. He was sure Colin did not deserve Penelope. 

Penelope lamented at Michael. "Do you really think he is daft?"

Michael pondered." I hate to say no. Because if any Bridgerton would have figured me out, it would be that Bridgerton brother."

Out of all the brothers, he was the wariest of Colin. The way the man looked at him was as if he had him all figured out. Which, by the looks of it, he has. That morning while he was picking Penelope up, Colin spoke as if he knew whom he was in love with.

"And I suppose you don't talk about such matters with him," Michael looked at Penelope, who looked deep in thought but shook her head, acknowledging him. 

"Never. Granted, Colin and I gossip once in a while whenever we're in a party, but never about you and Francesca. We try to keep direct family members and friends off our list of barbs," she grinned. 

"Am I that obvious that both you and Colin could guess?" 

"Well, you and Colin have the same air. I would assume he studies you. As for me, I just observe people for," Penelope paused as if catching herself, her eyes darting to look at him. Michael could tell she was hiding something. "Uh, you know, just no one asks me to dance often I have time to just people watch, is all. And-and you are not hard to miss," she said hurriedly. "But.. but back to Colin, he did sound like he knew you would rather be with someone else than me."

Michael groaned that confirmed it for him, that Colin just… knew. The Bridgerton brother saw into his soul. That irked him.

However, likewise, he saw Colin's soul as well. The man liked Penelope whether he wanted to acknowledge it or not. In fact, he would dare say Colin possibly loved Penelope. 

"I suppose not daft after all?" Penelope queried, seeming proud for Colin than troubled for Michael. Even at this moment, Penelope regarded Colin so highly. The man truly did not deserve her.

"Still daft if he does not know he likes you yet," Michael pointed out wisely. Penelope balked at what he said and then laughed.

"Again, you have it all wrong," she explained to him. "Colin will never like me more than a sister, I assure you."

Michael quirked a brow. "Permission to speak freely, Penelope Featherington?"

Penelope blinked. "I don't see why not, are we not freely sharing our deepest secrets at this point?"

Michael could help but grin. "No, more freely than that. I suppose we are very close friends by now, and we can be very direct with our language. Throwing proprietary out the window for a second, if I may."

Penelope's eyes flash with uncertainty for a brief moment as if thinking about what this would suggest. However, like the brave wallflower, he grew to know her as she nodded. "You may-, although I do not see what you could say that would startle me, you had to ask me for permission."

Michael again, couldn't help but chuckle. Penelope thought she knew him, but she did not know him that much just yet. 

"You assure me Colin would never see you more than an extension of a sister, correct?" he repeated what Penelope said before. 

She nodded. "Yes but I am unsure of where you are going with-," 

"And I assure you, Colin, at night is probably taking himself in his hands, thinking about ways to have you." All proprietary out the window, Michael cut Penelope off to explain to her directly why he had to ask her for permission to speak freely.

Penelope's face was flaming, her eyes bulging out of her sockets. She was flabbergasted, she did not see this coming. Somehow, Michael enjoyed this. 

"Pardon?!" she sputtered, stopping dead in her tracks.

Michael grinned. He supposed no one spoke this directly, or wickedly to Penelope, ever. "You said you wanted to live a little, I am explaining to you what men do when they like someone."

"You …. You are a wicked wicked man Michael!" She put her hands to her cheeks. By the looks of how red they were, they were possibly burning. She took her hat off and started fanning herself. It took everything in Michael not to laugh at that gesture. "You truly are a merry rake," she muttered, but Michael could see a slight tug at the ends of her lips.

"Pen, I apologize," he said with a grin. "But it is the truth of the matter. You will learn. I assure you that is exactly what Colin will be thinking. The man is mad for you, yet he has not done anything about it besides acting like a complete fool. Hence, an idiot."

Penelope huffed, adamantly refusing to believe anything Michael said. "You are saying this to tease me. Because I doubt. He has 12 years to be  mad  for me, I assure you he had not thought a single thing you uttered moments ago," she blushed again, thinking about it. "How do you men just say these things unabashedly?"

"Not all men." One corner of Michael's lips tugged upward. "Interesting, it's either you do not realize how he looks at you as of late, or you have resigned to the fact he will never see you more than a sister."

"The latter, truly. He looks at me no different than he has for the last few years. I'm not even tolerably pretty for him or anyone to be… to be thinking of such thoughts at night." Penelope said sharply, even though her cheeks were red.

Michael was taken aback, frowning. "Penelope-," his heart hurt for her. Did she really not think she was worthy of anyone? Michael pursed his lips. He turned to face Penelope. She truly did not see.

"What did you really think of me when Francesca mentioned me," Penelope suddenly asked him, startling him.

"The one who does not speak," he said quickly, blinking at her. That was the first thing he thought about when Frannie offered the name Penelope Featherington up to him years ago. 

"And? What did you think of my looks?" She asked him, stepping closer, looking into his eyes, as if delving into his soul for the truth, trying to catch him in a lie. It was unnerving, but he stood his ground, he was not going to lie to her.

Penelope shrugged. "It is alright if you do not want to answer, it is awkward to have a conversation like this."

 "I thought of nothing at all. I confess I barely could remember what you looked like." Michael replied. "Again, I did not know you. But once I seeked you, and you opened your mouth, you are far more intelligent than most of the ton. As well as how could anyone forget that flaming red Featherington hair?"

Penelope laughed. "Lady Danbury had said as much, I am starting to believe her."

"You're not allowed to think otherwise." Michael smiled softly at her. He took another step towards her. "Plus, the more I spend time with you, and speak to you, as we grow closer, I've come to find out the one who does not speak, is very delightful", he said, leaning down to look at her face, so he was close to her level.

"You have lovely eyes," He said, squinting so he could look at her. Penelope's face flamed up, as red as her hair. She clutched her hat to her chest as if protecting her bosom from something. He grinned again. 

"You need to keep being yourself. The right man, who is currently disguised as an idiot, will notice somehow. Well, Pen, truthfully I think he already is in lo-," he reached out to touch her, taking both of her gloved hands into his, squeezing them for comfort, but before he could finish his sentence, something large and hard smacked into his cheek.

It stung.

"OW!" Michael howled. He could've sworn he'd never howled before, but there was a first for everything. "Ow," Michael yelped again, his hand flying to his cheek to rub away the pain. He could've affirmed his jaw felt like it was dislocated, but he kept moving his mouth. Nothing felt out of place. But the bite was still there.

He looked down to what just hit him. It was a ring toss,  what the hell?   

He then looked up to see the culprit, and he groaned and frowned at the same time. 

"Of course," he said through gritted teeth. His gaze landed on a very irritating and clearly menacing Colin Bridgerton, a few steps away. 

So...Bridgerton chose violence today. 

Colin had a stance that a gorilla in the tropics took, but the face of an ill-behaved child whose toy got taken away from him. Michael could've justified Colin was the child of the devil if he didn't know what a darling Violet Bridgerton was.

"He's absolutely mad..." Michael muttered to himself. "He should just haul his ass and do something," he grumbled under his breath. 

Clearly, Colin wanted to play like a child throwing a tantrum. Well then, Michael could do the same.

Francesca was mortified. One minute she was talking to Colin. The next, she was an accomplice to a daylight crime. Instead of tossing the ring toss he caught from Anthony, Colin threw it in the opposite direction.

Directly towards Michael's face, with utmost precision.

The thwack she heard from the ring smacking Michael in the face made her gasp and gawk at her brother with shock. 

Her initial instinct was to run to Michael, and she started to do so but abruptly stopped when Penelope, with her gloved hand, shot out and caressed Michael's red cheek. 

Francesca stopped dead in her tracks, a pang that she hadn't felt in a long time piercing her chest, and she backtracked. What was she doing? Why was she feeling like this? Why did she want Penelope to stop touching Michael?

"Oh, apologies! I was tossing it to Anthony, and he did not seem to catch it on time!" Colin said chirpily. Francesca scowled. Colin did not accidentally throw it in the wrong direction. His aim was meant to hit.

"You didn't throw it in my direction at all, you nit," Anthony could be heard faintly behind him. Kate could be heard laughing at the other end.

"Pay no mind to him," Colin answered, rocking on his heels. "Sore loser, that." Colin said to Michael and Penelope.

Francesca glared at her brother and hissed at him as Michael and Penelope started heading towards them.

"Are you insane?" she wanted to scream at him.

"Did you not see how close he was getting to Penelope?" Colin hissed back, his eyes trained on the two walking towards them instead of his sister. "He touched her, Francesca. I was just merely saving the two of them gossip they could not come back from."

For a moment, Francesca agreed with her brother. When they arrived at the park, and her family started setting up, they saw Penelope and Michael from afar. They were arm in arm, walking comfortably together, chatting gleefully. Francesca had never seen Penelope talk so animatedly, nor had she ever seen Michael gazing at someone fondly before.

It sent daggers through her stomach, and she wanted the feeling to stop. She was conflicted with what her brother did because Michael was getting a tad too close to Penelope. However, she was also extremely horrified at what he did. 

"No, Colin, you did not need to hurt Michael for that. What if he lost an eye?" Francesca wouldn't have forgiven her brother if he made Michael lose an eye. She did love the color of his eyes.

Oh, she was not supposed to think like that at all. 

"Well, then he shouldn't have put his face so close to Penelope's now should he?" he blasted back. Then whipped his head towards Penelope and Michael when they approached. "Ah Kilmartin, Penelope, splendid day, isn't it?" his voice went up an octave higher with such fake merriment Francesca could barely help but roll her eyes backwards into her head. 

Francesca quickly grabbed a few cups of water, one to give to Michael, who just raised his hand up to indicate no, and the other to Penelope, who grabbed it hastily, thanking her, but avoiding eye contact with Francesca.

Francesca decided to hold on to the cup of water herself, gripping the cup. Michael barely looked at her. He was clearly focused on Colin. The two men were glaring at each other.

"Bridgerton."

"Kilmartin."

"Francesca." Michael acknowledged Francesca, a flash of annoyance in his eyes. Again, Francesca felt her chest crunch. The red in his cheek where the ring toss hit made her want to caress where it was burning. She tried to tamper those thoughts down, but it would not go away. She wanted to take care of him again like she did when he was sick. 

"Your aim was horrible." Michael bristled at Colin. 

"Again, I apologize," Colin said with a shrug. "Although, I should be thanked as you were getting a little too close to Miss Featherington in broad daylight."

Michael's jaw hardened. "And that is your concern how?"

Colin's eyes darkened, his nostrils flaring. "It is every bit my concern."

Penelope frowned. "No, it is not." Colin whipped his head to glower at Penelope, who was hiding behind her riding hat and the cup Francesca just gave her. 

"Clearly, I am the only one who cares about proprietary in the ton. You both need to be more careful," Colin stated, almost a jeer, but with his charm, it came off sweet. Too sweet. 

Something flashed in Michael's silver eyes, and for all the years Francesca has known him, when he had that look in his eyes, it meant he decided on something and was not going to back down. It was a similar look he had when he decided to leave her and go to India. 

Michael turned around to face Penelope, who was in the midst of gulping down the drink Francesca gave her.

"Penelope, this may be too forward but considering we have spent quite a bit of time together, and we may as well make it official in front of witnesses, as  proprietary  is highly regarded in the eyes of the ton. Therefore, respectfully and with your permission, Penelope Featherington, may I officially court you?"

Penelope snorted and choked on her drink, before sputtering most of it out, sending sprays of water right onto Michael's shirt and coat. At the same time, Francesca gasped and dropped the full cup of water she was holding straight onto Colin's boots, water splashing all over Colin's boots and trousers.

Francesca was right to not want to accompany her devil of a brother to the park. On a sunny, what should be a typical day, today, the men were wet, and the women were gobsmacked.

Chapter Text

"Penelope Featherington, may I officially court you?"

"Pardon me?"

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!"

Both Colin and Francesca exclaimed in unison.

"What…?" Penelope gasped, blinking rapidly in utter disbelief.

"Penelope, may I speak with you?" Colin asked. "Privately."

"I-" Penelope stuttered, looking terrified. Well,  she should look terrified because she was in a whole load of trouble , Colin thought.

"I think not. She has yet to answer my question." Michael protested, stepping in front of Penelope and shielding her from Colin.

Colin clasped his hands behind his back, quelling his need to grab Penelope and punch Michael all at the same time.

"Kilmartin, I suggest you move away. This is between Penelope and I."

"Bridgerton, how is it between you and Penelope? She does not have to answer to you," Michael smirked. Oh, Colin felt himself heat up; his hand was unclasping behind him. 

As if she could tell what he would do, Penelope huffed and quickly inserted herself between the two men, facing Colin with Michael at her back. 

"Enough. I am utterly overwhelmed, but this will not do." Penelope glanced at Frannie as if asking for help. 

"I very much concur," Frannie voiced, stepping towards Michael. "This sneering match will not solve anything."

"It'll solve something," Michael grumbled. Colin had no idea what Michael meant; all he knew was that the idea of Penelope being with someone else made him see red, his mind refusing to contemplate the notion. But here it was coming to fruition with one of the most notorious rakes he knew, and there was no way in hell.

Over his dead body. Before Colin could react, his eldest brother sauntered up to them, eliciting a groan from both Colin and Frannie.

Great, Colin didn't only have to contend with Michael. He had to deal with his brother and his very sharp sister-in-law in tow behind his annoying brother.

"Hello, I sensed the tension in this vicinity and decided to inspect," Anthony said in his most older brother's voice he could muster. 

Anthony looked between his family, Colin, and Francesca, and the other glaring parties - Penelope and Michael.

"I hope everything is...well here?" he asked carefully.

Colin shot an exasperated look at Anthony. Francesca sighed while Penelope looked away. Michael shrugged.

He frowned and opened his mouth to say something, then decided against it. Colin couldn't tell if his brother was annoyed, amused, or ready to wash his hands of his siblings. It was a daily look plastered on Anthony's face. 

"Carry on," he grumbled. "I am not getting involved. This was supposed to be a nice family picnic." He continued grumbling as he walked away. Towards the end, he could hear Anthony say,  "Not Francesca too..."

If Colin wasn't seething, he would've laughed and enjoyed his brother's exasperation with his siblings. Anthony had always esteemed Francesca as the perfect sibling. Not today, obviously. 

Kate was trying her best to rein in her laughter, but before she sauntered off to her husband, she passed Colin. "Do not play if you can not play nice in the park," she whispered only to him, christening him with a glare.

Colin scowled at his sister-in-law. Why didn't she reprimand Michael?! He was the one causing a scene...surely? 

"Penelope," Colin dropped his gaze from glaring at Michael to stare at Penelope. "Grant me a conversation. Please."

"I-," Penelope blinked at him. He saw her falter. She was budging. She then looked back and forth between him and Michael.

Okay, all he needed to do was just nudge. Colin stood up straight.

"If you'll excuse me, I will just.."  Take what's mine . 

He bit his tongue and instead just said. "Excuse us." Colin grabbed her and pulled away a reluctant Penelope, ignoring that she just nearly tripped on her skirt. He had to get her somewhere private so he could yell at her. Or kiss her. Damn her, he was chock full of mixed emotions.

Once they were far enough from Michael, Colin stopped. There was only so far he could drag Penelope in the park. He wished they weren't out in the open. So many prying eyes on them, including his family. He could feel Anthony's and Kate's eyes boring into his back. 

He needed to talk some sense into her. He needed to tread this lightly because he did not want to anger Penelope. Lately, all he did was anger her. However, he couldn't contain himself as the first thing he blurted out was "Penelope, what exactly is going on?"

"What do you mean?" Her blue eyes stared at him, confused.

"I did not realize Kilmartin noticed you like that."

Drat . No, that didn't sound right either. It came out patronizing. 

Penelope blinked. "Because no one does?"

"No! I meant you had not spoken to him before, and then suddenly he's courting you?"

"We have not spoken because we had not crossed paths before," Penelope said, her cheeks flushing up. 

"Precisely my point, he has not noticed you before. Why now?"

Bollocks , that's not what he wanted to say either.

He was mucking this up terribly. He was fantastic with his words but lately, with Penelope, he was an absolute wreck. 

He was the most charming Bridgerton, just not today and not in front of the person that mattered the most.  Wait . Penelope mattered the most? He blinked. 

He did not know how to fix how he sounded - he just knew he was angering her. The way her flush crept from her neck to her face, she was red and splotchy now. 

How did he memorize the different shades of red her skin turned to know when she was aroused or angry? The shade of red she turned when he kissed her was not the same as the red on her face now. Penelope was angry. 

"Pray tell, what you have deduced as to why this is happening to me," she asked. Her eyes narrowed, staring up at him.

God, even from this angle, with how short and angry she looked, she was so adorable.

"You are not thinking of accepting. Are you?" He clenched his jaw so hard his teeth ached. 

"No one else is courting me," she reminded him." Therefore, I can very well do what I want."

"This is bordering on absurdity," Colin paused, tripping over his words, shaking his head. "No, this  is  absurd." 

God almighty, he was not going about this correctly, he could feel it, but he couldn't stop himself. Penelope was infuriating him. 

"Absurd because this would never happen to me?" Penelope asked, her chin quivering when she looked up at him. 

"No!" Colin exclaimed exasperatedly. "Absurd because...because do you even know him?"

"Yes. Yes, I do," Penelope answered adamantly.

"More than I? I kissed you, for God's sake. Does that not mean anything?"

"Colin, you have been with women for less," Penelope said bluntly, balking at his words. "You make it sound like that one time makes me yours, which we both know is not the case." Her voice was sharp today, sharper than he had ever heard from her. 

Colin raised his hand to his forehead with utmost irritation to numb the frustration and irritation pounding behind. The way she spoke sent ripples of anger through him as if kissing was not sacred to her anymore.

The very notion of Michael, well,  anyone  kissing Penelope as he had done just days ago was… unimaginable. Infuriating, and it made him want to commit bloody murder. 

"What do you even want from me, Colin?" Penelope asked finally, catching his attention. Her blue eyes were full of confusion, and a silent plea. He could get lost in those vibrant doe-like eyes.

Her question threw him for a loop. He was so busy getting riled up he did not know why he actually dragged Penelope. All he knew was he wanted to stop whatever this was, but what was his goal?

"I care about you. You must understand this. I just do not believe he is doing this for the right reasons. You are … are.."  are what? She's what, Colin?  

His brain stilled, but his heart kept beating rapidly. He couldn't find the words as he blurted. "You're such a dear friend to me. I do not want to see you hurt because I do not think his intentions are true. I don't know what games Kilmartin is playing, but I do not want you to be a part of it," Colin said harshly. He then stopped.

"Games? Why do you think this is a game? Can't he just like me?" Penelope asked, her voice strained. Her voice cracked. She was hurt. "You are saying he can not just like me for me, and you think he has other motives. I see. Because no one can ever like me?"

Colin's heart broke. That was not what he meant to say. "Penelope, no, that's not-"

She gathered her dress and walked away from him, leaving him in the dust. He hastened after her.

Penelope glared angrily at Colin. How dare he? How dare he say the most idiotic things. He knew exactly what to say to cut her heart to pieces.

The revelation that he cared was overshadowed by the fact he uttered such stupid words like 'Friend,' and a variation of 'Michael would never like her like that'. Truth is, he did not. Michael loved Francesca, not her. Therefore, Colin was correct but the fact he did not believe she was worthy of being courted made her want to scream. 

She breathed in and out, telling herself to calm down, but it was almost impossible lately around Colin. How can it be that the one she loved was also the one whom infuriated her remarkably? 

All she wanted was the man standing in front of her; however, she was highly finished with his utter foolishness.

Whipping her head, she angrily flounced away from Colins towards Michael, who was clearly having a heated conversation with Frannie. Both of them engaged in a hissing match, not unlike her exchange with Colin. In fact, very similar.

"My Lord," Penelope said loudly, clasping her hands together in front of her. It captured both Michael's and Frannie's attention. Her eyes narrowed as she inhaled sharply before nodding curtly. "I accept." She curtsied.

Without a second glance at Colin or remaining for anyone's reply, she stomped away from them, from the park, just away. 

Today was dreadful, she was not going to speak to anyone until tomorrow. 

The next day came around, and she was accosted by her family. News had spread that she, Penelope Featherington, has secured herself a Lord. A handsome Scottish Lord, the merry rake on top of that. She was not in the mood to speak to them and just laughed it off, saying she had no idea how this came to fruition. They could not stop besieging her with both questions and insults such as:  How did you do this? Did he ruin you? Is he blind?

She couldn't take it and slipped away from her family and stayed in her room, feigning sickness, avoiding her family for the whole day. Surprisingly, she had a couple of calls today from both Colin, whom she did not want to see and Michael.

She answered none. She was not in any mood to speak to anyone, avoiding society as much as she could.

She was an utter disaster, not only because of her fake courting with Michael and her falling out with Colin but also because of her Lady Whistledown identity in tatters due to the bitch Cressida Cowper staking claim to it.

Penelope did not need the £ 1000 that Lady Danbury was giving away for the identity of Lady Whistledown. Still, she did care about the integrity of Lady Whistledown.

Lady Whistledown was hers, and not Cressida's. Penelope moaned into her pillows. This week was going to be a rough carriage ride if she had anything to say about it. She had to juggle this ruse with Michael, which she knew she had to talk to him about someday, and she had to figure out what to do about Cressida stealing her identity as Lady Whistledown.

However, with so many eyes on her because of this Michael courting, how was she going to slip away to drop an article about the invalidity of Cressida as Lady Whistledown? She had to tread carefully.

She sighed when her mother barged into her room, demanding she attend the ball tonight. If there was one thing she could not escape, it was Lady Danbury's ball tonight. Again, in the carriage on the way there, she was being smothered with questions. Her mother wanted answers to this sudden courting. Penelope wanted to just disappear.

Breakfast the next day, a usually boisterous ritual for the Bridgerton's, was a somber affair for Colin. He was in the worst mood possible. He could not sleep, nor could he eat. In fact, his siblings made fun of him that he would wither away if he did not eat. He had several days of not gorging on food, and it was due to one redhead. Today made him even more disagreeable.

The topic was Penelope and Kilmartin. An issue that raised his blood pressure exponentially, he could feel himself transform into a ticking time bomb. All morning it was:

"Oh my God, Penelope, would definitely be some sort of countess!" Hyacinth cooed.

Tick. Tick.

"Lady Kilmartin," Eloise made a barfing sound. 

Tick.Tick.

"I did not know they were that close," Anthony chimed in. "Although seeing them at the park yesterday, it does make sense."

Tick.Tick.

"I had no idea, Michael Sterling and Penelope Featherington," Daphne mused, chewing slowly on her eggs.

"I think they are an unusual but also very fitting couple," his mother nodded. 

"The Merry Rake and the Wallflower!" Hyacinth chirped again.

Tick. Tick.

"I thought they were just friends," Benedict asked. 

"Awfully close  friends , I might say," Eloise said, quirking a brow. "Well, Penelope always did always want to get married, I just thought we'd be spinsters forever."

Tick.Tick.

Anthony shrugged. "Sounds perfect then, as a friend, we all should be happy for her. Penelope has no suitors, Kilmartin needs a wife, lord knows he needs to settle down, I think it's perfect."

"You've all lost your bloody minds," Colin roared, dropping his cutlery onto his plate with a thunderous clang that broke his plate and startled the whole table.

"COLIN," the women in the family barked at him for his use of epithets, except Francesca. Odd. Francesca was awfully quiet today. 

"Penelope is MY friend. She is  mine ," Colin snapped, standing up. Again his abrupt action caused the table to vibrate. 

"Uhm, she is not only just your friend, but she is mine too," Eloise called out to him as he marched away. He could hear his family chatter in an uproar behind him due to his behavior, but he did not care, nor did he want to hear what they had to say.

No, he did not want to eat breakfast with his family today. Today was a hell of a day, and he was going to catch Penelope, whether it be at her home or at the ball tonight. He was going to talk to her.

Today was going to be a hell of a day for Penelope. It was even worse at the ball, with Penelope suddenly getting accosted by people she did not know personally (but definitely written about). 

"Penelope, how are you, darling,"

"Penelope, we haven't spoken, but I'd love to talk to you…."

"Penelope, how on earth did you manage the merry rake?"

"Penelope, tell me your secret on how to procure a Scottish Lord."

Penelope flashed everyone a smile and again felt suffocated. How did things move so very quickly? She felt eyes on her, and she had never been the focus of the ton before.

She did not like it at all. She thought she would like it, after being so long in the shadows, a wallflower. However, she could get away as Lady Whistledown because no one paid attention to her. She did not like this newfound attention.

Suddenly she was being whisked away to the dancefloor, and she faced a familiar handsome face. Her dear friend, or rather… suitor now? 

"May I, Miss Featherington, have this dance?" He bowed as propriety called for it, and so she curtsied back.

Penelope nodded, relieved that he saved her from the crowd. "Thank you," she whispered as the music started, and they glided into a slow waltz. 

"I suppose the conversation yesterday with Bridgerton did not go well?" Michael asked, raising a brow.

Penelope huffed. "As well as yours did, I suppose. Michael, what did you just do?" 

"What did  you  just do? You did not have to accept." Michael sniggered. "Word travels fast, Pen."

Fair. She accepted out of spite. She needed to talk to Michael about what their plans were from here on out. They caused enough mayhem for the day.

"How badly did it go with Frannie?" she inquired. She knew she was out to hurt Colin, but she did not want to hurt Francesca. As much as Francesca acted like she did not see Michael romantically. Penelope could've sworn Francesca had feelings for Michael. 

Michael let out a strained laugh, but his eyes darted to the side. "Abysmally." 

Michael started fidgeting, something he did not do. Even though she had spent a short time with him, she knew how he functioned more or less. Something was bothering him, and he was not telling her.

"What happened?" Penelope prodded. 

Michael avoided her gaze and looked around. "We should move to a private area, away from prying eyes, I do have something to tell you," he whispered to her. She nodded, letting him lead her away from the crowd.

"You what?!" Penelope gasped once Michael explained to her what had transpired the night before. They were both in the Yellow drawing room of Lady Danbury's house. The only place that had no audience.

He told her in not so many words that he and Francesca had relations, more than innocent kisses the night before. 

"You are not married to perform marital relations!" she choked out. 

"Penelope, marital relations happen outside of marriage," Michael laughed.

Penelope grew red in the face and covered her mouth with her hand in surprise. Why she was surprised was beyond her, as she knew the reputation Michael had of being a total rake, and she has heard enough stories to know it to be true. However, maybe it was the shock that it was with Francesca, sweet, quiet, absent Francesca. 

"When… when did this happen?" she asked, whispering. 

"Why are you whispering there is no one here," Michael chuckled.

"I don't know. I feel so dirty talking about it out loud," she continued to whispered.

Michael again erupted into boisterous laughter. "Penelope, when you have relations outside of marriage, please tell me because I want to bask in your reaction."

Penelope heated up again and smacked him on his arm. "I would never tell you then, and it will never happen."

Michael shrugged. "It's on a matter of time," he said like he knew something, however before Penelope could question him he answered her. "Sometime yesterday, after what happened with you accepting the suit, things occurred."

Penelope gasped, a hand flying over her mouth. "But… but I accepted your courting yesterday," she stuttered, but that was the least of her worries. 

"Frannie did not appreciate it," Michael replied, sighing. "I am apologetic, but we did cause a terrible predicament for ourselves." However, Michael was beaming as he said this. He was not at all distressed about this, and he was enjoying it.

Penelope rolled her eyes. "Evidently, you did not think it was an incorrect selection."

Michael shrugged nonchalantly. "It surprisingly served a purpose, and it has received certain people's attention. In more ways than one," he flashed another stomach-dropping smile. 

"You...you but you are not married," she hissed, feeling slight protection over Francesca, as she is a Bridgerton, and she grew up with her, albeit they were not as close as she and Eloise. 

"It was mutual and even goaded on Frannie's part," he shrugged, his rakish smile not leaving his lips.

Penelope blinked in disbelief. "Yes, but she is a lady, and you are a rake! Are you not supposed to be more gentlemanly about this?"

"Judging, are we? Pot calling kettle black is what we call hypocrisy. Didn't you also, unmarried, not kiss Mr.Bridgerton while not even being courted? Far more scandalous, I'd say."

"SHHHH!" Penelope's eyes widened as she lunged forward to slap her hand against Michaels's mouth. "SHHHH!!!!!" Penelope was horrified he said that out loud.

Michael's mouth was covered, but his eyes shone with great amusement. He liked playing with her, and Penelope, while horrified he would even bring it up, was trying her hardest to keep her laughter in.

They were two souls that understood each other. Two souls that loved another that did not reciprocate. She was exhilarated to have someone like that. If things kept going on, however, she would easily fall for Michael. He was entertaining to be around.

"Michael Sterling, I told you that in confidence," she hissed, but her lips were threatening to break out into a smile, so it morphed into a Frankenstein of a scowl and smile.

A harsh cough that could be mistaken as a growl broke their moment of understanding.

Penelope hurled around so quickly; she saw stars but choked when she saw Colin standing there, not alone but with Francesca. Both did not look pleased. At all. 

Francesca had an indecipherable look on her face, her eyes darting back and forth between her and Michael, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. However, Francesca was not the one she was worried about. It was Colin. Colin had his hands to his side, balled into fists. He was grossly red, eyes bulging. She had never seen him this terrifying before.

"You both..." Colin said in a low menacing voice. "... are alone without chaperones."

"I am fairly alright, and we are courting. There will be no repercussions," Penelope responded.

"Still, there will be talk, courting or not," Colin snapped, his brilliant green eyes cutting through Penelope. Her heart ached like she was disappointing him, and she shouldn't feel like this. Colin was not courting her; why did she feel like this?

Penelope narrowed her eyes at Colin."I have been alone with you several times, Colin, unchaperoned. Nothing has happened, has it?"

Penelope then rushed in, thinking about their kiss. "That would tarnish either of our reputations, I mean," her eyes darted towards Michael, who knew about their kiss. She then shyly looked at Frannie, now knowing what she knew about Michael and her. 

Michael quirked a brow at Penelope. She could clearly see him stifling laughter. Penelope glared at him briefly before snapping her eyes back to look at Colin.

"Well I suppose if it does appease Mr. Bridgerton here and quell the ton's ghastly wagging tongues, I will take my leave," Michael said, bowing at Penelope and smirking at a menacing Colin on the way out. 

Francesca flashed an apologetic look over at Penelope and murmured, "Sorry," leaving before after him just a second later. Probably apologizing to continue some 'marital relations'. Penelope deduced that Francesca probably felt horrible sneaking around with her "suitor." Well, not like she and Michael were real. She did not blame the two; in fact, Penelope found it flattering that she was even an inkling of a threat that she made Francesca rethink her choices.

Although performing marital relations outside of marriage still does not bode well for Michael. She was still worried that Michael was still hopelessly in love with Francesca and maybe Francesca was not. 

Penelope cringed, thinking of what that would entail. What muck did she get herself into, accepting a suit from the Merry Rake, who was not in love with her, but instead in love with Francesca Bridgerton, while Penelope was in love with her brother, Colin Bridgerton. And not even a day of her suit, her suitor had marital relations with Francesca Bridgerton.

She would have laughed if she did not feel a fiery presence nearby. Colin was still here. His demeanor from before did not change. His eyes were still blazing, his stance was still stiff, his face hardened. He took a step forward into the drawing-room, and he closed the door behind him. Penelope felt her heart in her throat. She felt both terrified and thrilled to be in his presence. She was trapped, with someone so cool and dangerous.

They were alone now.

"Colin, we are not-not supposed to be alone," she stammered. Did he not just say she shouldn't be alone with Michael unchaperoned?

Colin slowly stalked towards her. "No, but did you not say you were alone countless times with me before and nothing has happened?" he threw her words back to her.

She gulped. She did say that. 

"Ye-yes I did, but, but you are right we should not be alone," her heart was galloping in her chest, her eyes did not leave Colin who was eyeing her as he paced around her.

"You are not going to have Kilmartin as your suitor," Colin said with finality, stopping just in front of her.

Penelope pouted. "I beg your pardon? You do not have a right to order me around,  Mr. Bridgerton ," Penelope only called him that moniker when she was angry, and right now, she was angry. "You are acting as if you possess me when you do not. I can very well be courted by whomever I want. Therefore good day to you." She said, brushing past him. She could not think or breathe with him nearby.

"Over my dead body," Colin growled before grabbing Penelope's arm and crashing his lips onto hers.

Chapter Text

The Bridgerton home was utter chaos. Preparing for any event is a feat on its own, with Colin’s younger siblings running around in a chaotic mess and his older brothers yelling for everyone to get ready. Colin never understood how his mother managed to corral the entire family to events and make it on time. They were never early, but neither were they ever late.

Even with moving out and living in his lodgings in Bloomsbury, he would still come to the Bridgerton home to get ready with his family; it was something he would never tire of. Usually, Colin enjoyed the noise and yelling; however, such was not the case today. His family avoided him for the rest of the day, and he was truly appreciative of that, as he was not in a mood to converse with anyone. As he got ready and called his carriage around he turned to his family. 

"I'm leaving now. Does anyone want to come with me?" Colin asked the chaotic bunch. While he did not want company, he also was brought up better than that. The chaos of the Bridgerton home fell silent, as his whole family stopped what they were doing and looked at him. After a few cricket sounds, Hyacinth spoke up. 

"Not to be rude, Colin, but I don't think any of us wants to ride with you. You're very grumpy. Mother says like a sad cloud." Hyacinth summarized what everyone was thinking before skipping away.

“Yeah, she is right. You have acted like a lad whose toy was taken away,” Benedict pointed out with a mischievous smile. Both his brothers snickered at him while his mother came up to him and gave him an apologetic smile. 

“Oh, darling, I did not say sad cloud,” Violet said. “You are usually very adorable when you’re angry....” She put her hands up to his cheeks, squishing him gently. “However, you are a little bit of a grump.”

“Mother,” Colin grumbled, hating that his mother still treated him like a little boy but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away from his mother’s loving gesture. 

“Do what you have to. To be happy again,” She gave him a sweet kiss on his cheek before letting him go. 

“Mother,” he grumbled again, but he couldn’t help but smile. He was still his mother’s favorite, he was sure of it. He even ignored his brother’s taunts calling him a baby. He picked his hat up and off he went to his carriage.

As he climbed into his carriage, the door refused to close, and up came Francesca. She looked very much like a beautiful Bridgerton in her classic Bridgerton Blue dresses. 

“Francesca!” he exclaimed in surprise.

“No one wanted to ride with you to the ball,” Francesca said as she took her seat across from him.

“I am aware. Why are you riding with me?”

“I am not afraid of your temper tantrums since they never worked on me,” she shrugged.

“You are barely around for it to work on,” he rolled his eyes. Even though Frannie was younger than him, she had gotten married early and lived in Scotland for most of the time. They both fell silent and the carriage ride was soundless for a while.

“No one in the family can ever remember when you raised your voice,” Francesca suddenly broke the silence, reminding him about his outburst that morning. He was not proud of it, but he also couldn’t stop his reaction. All they could talk about was Penelope with another man. He boiled again thinking about it.

"Why does everyone think I do not have feelings? Of course, I get angry,” Colin frowned. He couldn’t believe it. Although Colin disliked the emotion of anger, he was a man who was extremely comfortable with himself. However, ever since he returned this season, (and specifically around Penelope) he was unable to understand his own feelings. He was more wound up than he had ever been. 

"No one thinks that, Colin. Of course they know you are human. They just think you're society’s darling; so perfect all the time that when you do something uncharacteristic, such as yelling or getting angry… it’s just out of the norm, that is all.” Francesca said with an understanding tone. “You rarely get angry.”

"Sounds a lot like you, dear sister,” he said wittily, winking at her. 

Francesca paused, looking at him as if she was studying him. "I suppose we are alike, and I do not appreciate that fact." She said primly as Colin grinned at her. 

“Is there a reason you’re going to a ball early? You’re going before mother.”

“No reason,” Colin shrugged, he was not going to admit to his sister he was going early to catch Penelope before Kilmartin did. His brows furrowed as he thought about the two again, and what utter nonsense this whole ‘courting’ situation was.

“There are no words to explain how fixated you are on Penelope, Colin." Francesca said studying him, with an astonished look on her face.

He stuttered. “I-I don’t-”

"Interesting..."His sister continued.

"What is?"

"You are only vulnerable with Penelope, I wonder…” Francesca pondered.

"There is no 'wondering-,” Colin gruffed. "I can say the same for you, just not towards Penelope,” he pointed out. He was waiting for Francesca to protest with all her might but instead, she fell silent, and at last nodded in agreement. Colin was rather shocked, eyes widening at this.

“I was half prepared to have you fight me on this,I don’t know where to go from here,” Colin said with a short laugh. Francesca tilted her chin up in defiance, glaring at him before her face fell and she sighed out loud.

“Oh, God, Colin,” Francesca moaned. 

"Francesca, you've been blaspheming a lot lately. Perfect child indeed," he teased. He rarely heard his sister curse.

"Under such circumstances, Colin... I don't know what to do,” her blue eyes filled with confusion.

Colin didn't need Francesca to elaborate on the circumstances. Whenever they were engaged in conversation, the occasions requiring them to finish their thoughts were rare, as they developed their own voiceless code growing up. And right now, they were in the same predicament.  

"I think I have a way to get rid of whatever this is I am feeling,” Colin said.

“I do not like that look in your eyes. It tells me you do not understand at all,” Francesca frowned. “I know that look you and the rest of our brothers have. The look that I know my brothers are about to do something stupid.”

“You worry about yourself, dear Francesca, and I will worry about me,” Colin snickered, voice thick with mischief. “Unless you want to hear about it?”

Francesca crimsoned and shut her ears with her hands. "I am not listening to this."

“Oh, don’t be so innocent Franny,” he waved her off. 

“Oh, if you only knew,” he heard his sister mutter. Colin whipped his head to look at his sister. Oh, how he craved to ask what she meant by that, but the carriage stopped in front of Lady Danbury’s home at that precise moment. While curious, he had something else pressing to tend to. Hence,once the footman opened the door he jumped out and nearly forgot to help his sister down. 

When Colin entered Lady Danbury’s summer ball, he came in with a purpose. To find Penelope, to have a chat, and if the circumstance permitted it, kiss her. 

Yes, Colin thought to himself,  If I kiss her one more time, maybe this weird pang in my chest will go away. Yes. Perfect. Splendid idea . Colin, being the worldly traveler that he was, could always answer a fixation on something, or someone, if he did it more than once. 

If he traveled somewhere twice, allure would disappear. If he ate something twice, well, he kept eating it, it was food for God's sake. If he kissed or slept with a girl twice, he was finished with the fixation on them. 

His brothers long ago would’ve applauded this. Now, along with his mother (and his sisters, including Francesca), they would have his head for being such a cad. Therefore, this was a fact Colin liked keeping to himself. Yes. Maybe after a chat dispelling all misunderstandings, along with another kiss, it would be over. 

Just keep your composure, be calm, be reasonable, all will be well , Colin thought to himself as he looked around for Penelope.

However, once he saw Kilmartin lead Penelope to the floor, dancing with her, whispering as if they both had secrets, all composure and reason flew out the ornate double doors of the ball.

He stomped across the ballroom floor following them, until he was stopped on his tracks when he felt someone tug at his arm.

“Colin.” It was Francesca, pulling him back. 

“Francesca, what is it? Are you going to tell me to calm down again once I tell you that Kilmartin and Penelope just went into one of Lady Danbury’s empty rooms, alone? Out of sight from everyone here,” he was incredibly annoyed with Francesca at this moment. 

“No, I was actually going to say let’s barge in there together,” she said, her eyes glinting wickedly. 

When Colin caught Penelope and Michael, he thought he felt his head blow off. He was ready to throttle a couple of people in the room. The position they found them in was not compromising, but it was enough. To the devil, it was enough. The sight of Penelope's hands on Michael’s lips, while Michael’s hands were around her waist, snapped something inside of Colin.

Everything in him said he would not damn well share Penelope Featherington. He was feeling inexplicably possessive of her. When did he start to think thusly? Whatever it was, he made sure Kilmartin was far away from Penelope and he shut the door behind him. He was bloody furious with Penelope and before he knew it his lips were on hers and he was claiming her. 

Once he kissed her again, everything in him crumbled. He had imagined the continuous pang in his chest to stop once he kissed her again, but it did not stop. Instead, the pang he felt in chest expanded to his stomach, as well as to his breeches. 

However, Penelope, like during the first kiss he ever had with her, did not kiss back.

“Penelope,” he breathed, touching their foreheads together. “Do you remember what I said when I first kissed you?” he asked, voice thick with posession of her.

He could hear Penelope's ragged breaths, his eyes traveling briefly to the rise and fall of her breasts -she was breathing rapidly. She opened her mouth but nothing came out. So she shook her head instead, her eyes full of confusion, yet hazy with lust. 

Good, she was not unaffected by him. 

“A kiss is…?” He whispered to her again, his eyes boring into hers, hoping she remembered. She had better, it was, after all, her first kiss. If she did not remember, then he would really be upset. 

“Meant for two.” This time, Penelope responded, as she moved her lips against his. She kissed him back, and the spark created sent shivers through Colin's whole being. He gathered Penelope in his arms, crushing all her lenght against his. He demanded more from her, his tongue sweeping into her mouth, relishing in tasting her. He held her closer and closer; how could he not? She felt so soft and comfortable, just as if she fit and belonged in his embrace. 

Her hands traveled up getting tangled in his hair, gripping him. She sighed against his lips when he continued taking her and tasting her.

Her eyes were hazy before flowing wide open. She jumped back, pulling away from him. She failed, though, since Colin kept his arms around her, holding her there. 

"Oh, we shouldn't have done that," she gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. "I am supposed to be with Michael-,”

"I said you were not going to have Kilmartin as your suitor,” he gritted. She was starting to squirm and pull away from his embrace, but he held firm.

"Are you insinuating I must forget him? And then what Colin?" Penelope asked, her eyes searching his. "Nevermind. Don't answer that." She said as she continued fighting and squirming out of his hold. 

"Penelope-," Colin started to say. "Are you really going to be courted by someone else after what we shared?" He asked angrily.

Penelope blinked at him. "After what we've shared? Colin, I know very well you have kissed plenty of women, and therefore I am not as foolish to think what we shared is special to you." She paused. "It is to me, but I am well aware, it is not to you. To you it was just a…" she trailed off before shooting a glare at him.

She jabbed her index finger to his chest which caused him to yelp. "I didn't see you trying to court me after the first kiss. May I remind you, YOU ran away after the kiss."

"Have I not said I kissed you that night not out of pity?" He bit back at her. "The first time I kissed you I was embarrassed-"

"See? You were embarrassed!" 

"Pen, let me finish, damnit."

"No, Colin! Would you have kissed me if I had not asked you to?" She queried, her cheeks flushing red. Penelope was defiant, yes. And yet, she could not deny she was still extremely affected by that eventful night. 

He was silent, wracking his brain for the right thing to say because everything he said to her just seemed to infuriate her. 

"Thought so. Colin, I need to go," Penelope said, finally succeeding in breaking his hold around her. Before he could say anything she turned around and escaped him. It took him a few seconds to realize Penelope had once again played escape artist with him. 

He stood where he was for a few more seconds before finally gritting his teeth and heading out. Eager mama's and their daughters were on the ready as he headed out, but for once, Colin did not even acknowledge any of them with a smile. The ton's darling, Colin Bridgerton was rude, ignoring everyone in his path as he walked out of the ball. He even heard his mother and Lady Danbury call out for him but he was in no mood. Pretending to not hear them, he managed to slip out and get into his carriage. Colin was utterly done for the night and decided to just crash at the Bridgerton home instead of going back to Bloomsbury. Nevertheless, right as his carriage neared Number Five, something caught his eye instead. 

It was one of the neighbors… Penelope Featherington in fact, the object of his turmoil, climbing into a hired hack.

What in the bloody hell…? He thought that when she had escaped him, she might've stayed at the ball, or at least gone home to stay in. Well, she was home, but she was not staying in. His night was definitely not over as he instructed his carriage to follow Pen's hired hack. 

If Colin thought he was bloody furious with Penelope when he caught her unattended with Michael, he was bloody livid with her now. After following Penelope, and going through a storm of monologues with himself, he found himself in the middle of seedy London, in a church, staring at an article that he took from her. 

This must be the universe playing a prank on him as it slowly dawned on him what kind of article he was holding. It was an article damning Cressida as a liar, and that Lady Whistledown was not her. It was scratching to Cressida, and it was red-handed evidence that Penelope was Lady Whistledown.

Colin was in utter disbelief, heart sinking into his belly as panic unfurled in his chest. No, no, no, no. His Penelope could damn well not be Lady Whistledown. 

The events after that were pretty much a whirlwind ever since Colin caught Penelope, with Colin dragging Penelope back into his carriage and them practically having a go at each other about this realization. Colin teetered between feeling extremely impressed, jealous, and terrified with the knowledge that Penelope is Lady Whistledown. On a good note, no one else knew that she was Lady Whistledown, on a bad note, he knew she was Lady Whistledown. 

He couldn't contain his emotions around her, and the next thing he knew he went from yelling at her to ravishing Penelope in a moving carriage. He was out of his mind. In the course of one single night, he went on a frenzied journey of wanting to throttle Penelope to kissing her, to wanting to throttle her again to wanting to ravish her more than once. His hands grabbed at her, his mouth latching onto hers. He knew if he didn't hold her close he wouldn't be able to breathe. There was a part of him that craved her with unreasoning madness now, possibly more knowing her secret. That this woman, whom he has danced with for years, sought out for, is the genius behind Lady Whistledown. Jealousy did gnaw at his belly but so did other emotions. Both fury and desire engulfed him at this instance.

It was then that Colin realized Penelope was important. Precious.  His.  It was undeniable, even though he spent his whole time doing just that. Denying it. Therefore, while he was ravishing her in the carriage, he made up his mind, there was only one way to keep her. He had to take her away from anyone else, his mind flashed to Kilmartin and his jaw ticked -  who even dared look her way. He had to protect her from any of the repercussions of her being Lady Whistledown. This was his secret to take to the grave. 

Lord Almighty, his entire being just wanted to cocoon her, wanting above all to protect her and keep her safe.

Once they reached her home after a series of yelling and lusting, Colin jumped down the carriage, taking a deep breath. It was now or never. He was going to have Penelope one way or another. 

“Penelope, are you going to marry me or not?” Colin asked, turning around only to see a shocked Penelope slip on the carriage step and fall face-first on the ground. 

"No. Yes. I-" she shook her head, stuttering. "Just give me a moment," Penelope mumbled, scrambling to get up as she brushed herself off. Colin felt like an utterly beast making her trip. He quickly grabbed her and pulled her up. 

He was remorseful for the way he was approaching this, but there was no other way out of this. He had just found out Penelope is Lady Whistledown, followed by him nearly ravaging her - well, he  did  ravage her, just short of taking her completely in a moving carriage. She was clearly compromised in more ways than one, and he was not going to let her be compromised by anyone else except him. This was the only way. He was going to damn well marry her, and she will damn well marry him.

Nothing else made sense except marrying her. Yes. 

However, Penelope did not look like she shared the sentiment. Instead, once fully standing up, Penelope scowled at him, visibly confused with him. Not a minute ago she was disheveled, full of lust, pink staining her all the way from cheeks to her chest. She was still stained in pink, just, the other  pink - the angry pink.

Yes, he knew what shades of pink grazed her features, and now this shade meant she was angry. But why? Marrying him only made sense. He watched as she turned away from him and walked up the steps to her door, which opened up automatically as Briarly her butler, yanked it open for her. She moved towards the door, excusing Briarly, before turning to glare at Colin.

“What?” He asked when she didn’t say anything. “You know you’re supposed to say something when someone proposes?” Colin was just discovering he was very impatient with Penelope, wanting her opinions and answers. In fact, he had discovered many things he did not feel or do, except with Penelope. Hell, she made him, the nice, uncommonly easygoing Bridgerton, turn into a flaming mad, illogical, impatient fool. She made his heart race, keeping him on edge. He realized no one else could do this to him.

"This is moving impossibly fast, Colin," Penelope said nervously. Colin tried to move past her into her home, but she did not budge, keeping him out on the steps of her home.

Well, that was not an answer someone who proposed wanted to hear. "No time like the present," Colin said not wasting any more time, he was deathly impatient. His purpose currently, is to barge in and ask Portia Featherington for Penelope's hand in marriage.

Penelope stared at him, her gorgeous bright eyes searching his face as if to look for a joke in there. Colin observed her back, admiring the way she bit down on her plump bruised bottom lip, her dimples adorning her cheeks, her bright red hair which was disheveled. God, she was beautiful and he wanted to tell her every day that she is. Penelope's eyes locked with his, her gaze so deep that Colin shuddered. He chalked it up to the night air. Penelope then sighed, anger fleeting away from her face, replaced by resignation. Colin perked up, a glimmer of hope went through him. However, what came out of her mouth sent shivers of panic through him.

“Colin. Please give me - and yourself as well, time to think,” was all Penelope remarked almost in a whisper, before slamming the door in his face. Colin was shocked, cold crept up his spine as the world around him froze. He couldn't even swallow, feeling a lump in his throat.

This was not how he thought the evening would’ve ended. He was standing on the other side of the door; not inside the Featherington home asking Portia for Penelope’s hand in marriage. His heart battered in his ribs as an icy claw began to overtake his chest. It was an indescribable feeling, but it took him a few moments, as he stood there he realized something else entirely. There was another feeling he had rarely felt except for with Penelope, boiling inside of him - utter heartbreak.

Chapter Text

“BROTHERS!”  Colin barged into Anthony’s study where both his older brothers were. Anthony was sitting at the back of his grand oak study, while Benedict was right across from him on the guest chair. Both of them were imbibing a glass of brandy. Their heads snapped in attention as he entered and looked at him in bewilderment. 

“Why are women infuriating?” Colin asked them exasperatedly, both his hands resting on his hips, wanting an answer from his older brothers instantly. He was aware he was being irrational barging in like this, laying his heart out in the open but he just needed someone to talk to and he figured going to his older, married brothers might help.

"It's about a woman," Anthony sighed as he leaned back into his chair and took a sip of his brandy.

Colin instantly regretted his decision to go to them. They were going to make fun of him till the end of time.

"It's always about a woman," Benedict guffawed, pushing his chair back to rise. He walked to the bar and poured Colin a glass of brandy, and handed it to him. Colin grabbed it gratefully and took a swig of it, feeling the burn go down his throat.

"When is it never about a woman?" Anthony asked tiredly. Yes, there was Anthony’s ‘so done with his siblings’ voice again. 

“Do you think this is funny?” Colin rolled his eyes at them, vexed that his brothers found his predicament funny. Although, to be honest, Colin found joy when both his brothers went through turmoil in acquiring their wives as well. Maybe this was karma.

"Of course we do!” Benedict pealed and Anthony held his snicker back which contorted his face. "You have taken joy in our plight, it's about time you feel it.”

There it was. Karma. Supposedly Colin did deserve it, but he was not in the mood.

He huffed and turned around, ready to leave when Anthony called out. “Is this about Penelope?”

Colin stopped turning the knob and sighed out loud. "No..no. I am generalizing.”

"Mother would not like that you are generalizing women, Colin," Benedict tsked in jest, wagging his pointer finger at him. “Not all women are infuriating, some are lovely.”

Then Anthony's face softened. "While we are finding your whole plight funny, we also do sympathize, Colin.”

“I said it once but I’ll say it again, you sound like a lad whose toy was taken away,” Benedict pointed out. “Why don’t you just tell us, or yourself the truth of how you really feel. This is not about all women, this is about one woman. Just admit it.”

Anthony nodded. “Benedict is right, once you just admit what you’re feeling, whatever it may be. You would be less of a wreck, Colin. Yes… it is unbecoming of you, embarrassing really. Kate can’t stop laughing about your shenanigans.”

Colin scowled, well Kate would find all of this amusing, considering she liked to bust his balls ever so often. He loved Kate dearly but she was one of the in-laws that treated him like a brat, even though she was older.

Colin found himself nodding once his brother’s words sunk in. Crazy, because his brothers usually did not make sense.

“And if all else fails…. Just… marry her,” Anthony said easily, shrugging. As if just marrying a woman was the easiest thing in the world.

Colin whipped his head up to look at his brothers. There was no way in Hades’ hell would he tell them that he did try to do just that and failed tremendously. However, they had a point he was going to do everything in his power to… marry her. No matter what.

“Perfect… yes… thank you for being actual big brothers through this,” Colin said as he slowly backed towards the exit, another idea formulating in his head.

"Colin please do not do anything foolish,” Anthony called out. “I see that mischief in your eyes.”

"I will do nothing either of you would have done,” Colin flashed them a playful simile, winking as he ran out the door to find his future wife.

Yes, he will damn well just marry her.

As Colin was hastily leaving his brother’s study he passed Francesca’s bedroom, there were maids packing up her trunks.

“Frannie..?” he called out, catching Francesca’s attention. She looked up and brightened when she saw him, slipping out of her chaotic bedroom to join him out in the hall.

“Colin? Where are you off to?” Francesca asked.

“I wanted to ask you the same thing, why are you packing your things?” he asked taking another look into her chambers, it was being packed hastily as if she was escaping something.

“I… am off back to Scotland,” Frannie confessed.

“What? So soon? I did not hear about this,” Colin was taken aback. “I thought you were leaving after the season ends.”

“An emergency had risen in Kilmartin, I-I as Lady Kilmartin still have to tend to those.” Francesca had a stricken look on her face, her eyes downcast, avoiding his gaze. Colin instantly knew something was amiss.

Colin frowned. “Isn’t that what Lord Kilmartin is supposed to deal with? Is he going with you.” Colin quirked a brow. 

“I deal with some things too, without him.” Francesca murmured, still not meeting his gaze. Her cheeks were tinted pink.

“Frannie, what happened?” Colin asked, his hands coming up to her arms gently. He did not shake her, he was just worried for her. There was more to this than just tending to an emergency.

Something happened with Kilmartin. He was sure of it.

“Nothing, I told you I have to go back to Scotland,” she said, exasperated at his questioning.

“Right now?”

“Yes, this instant.” she retorted back, and her tone brooked no argument. She was finished explaining to him what was wrong with her. There was silence between them. 

While unsatisfied, Colin had to respect Francesca’s wishes. Francesca had married young, and was always away, and had gone through more hardships than he did. With losing her child, her husband, handling the Kilmartin estate… he had to trust that Francesca knew what she was doing. She always did it by herself. Colin admired her greatly, and he wanted to be there for her, but he wagered Frannie liked to do things by herself and he was going to let her, and be her support when she needed him.

“I am off to find Penelope,” Colin finally said, breaking the silence. This perked Francesca up as she finally looked at him, tearing her gaze from the floor, her eyes glittered. Ah, something that Francesca did want to talk about.

“I was just coming back from a conversation with our brothers. Talking about marriage, and this talk of wanting to get married, and.. don't laugh , made me think of Penelope,” Colin confessed to his sister. 

“Oh, stupid Colin. Of course. The perfect woman for you has always been in front of you.” Francesca said it was an obvious solution to his problem for ages. Maybe it was and maybe he just didn’t realize it till this year.

"I suppose because she was exactly Eloise's age, and always around, I never saw her as a potential mate, you know? However, I see her differently now and I… I want her so much Frannie.” he sighed, running a hand through his hair while Francesca nodded.

“I… you…” Francesca started to speak but was having trouble articulating what she wanted to say. Colin waited, and she finally sighed. “I understand.” was all she said. 

Colin believed that she understood this but to a different degree. He wanted to talk about it with Francesca, but she was stubborn and did not show her emotions as much as he did.

“I know you do,” Colin told her quietly. Francesca’s eyes darted to gaze at him, surprise marred her features as she flushed. She shook her head not knowing how to articulate what was going through her mind.

Colin nodded and gave her a faint smile. “I know you do, Frannie, and you don’t have to say anything more,” he assured her. “You have always dealt with things your way. However, I just want you to know you can be happy again. Don’t think too hard about it.”

He pulled Francesca into an embrace, which Francesca fell into, hugging him back. “Don’t think too hard about who you want to be with, or you’ll lose so many years with the one person you’re supposed to be with,” Colin told her, resting his chin on the top of her head. 

He kissed her forehead. “Love you, Frannie, I have to go. I’ll see you soon, have a safe journey home.”

“Home’s here,” Francesca blurted as Colin walked towards the exit of the Bridgerton home. Colin turned around and flashed Francesca a smile. There was one thing he knew, after traveling the world.

“No it isn’t.” he winked at her. And for him, home was where Penelope was, and he had to find her.

Penelope found the men’s little ol’ Club, one she knew Colin frequented, although she knew he wasn’t here today, she made sure to check before she walked in. This club was at the edge of the ton. However, she was only here because there was another person who frequented this club when he was in town, and he was her goal for today. Her father used to frequent this particular club to indulge in his vices, whether it be women, drink, or gambling, so she knew ways to get into the club undetected. 

Plenty of women walked in this club, there were just not the wives of the men who frequented this place. She wore a muted dark purple satin cape today, which had a large hood to cover her entire head. She blended well with the women who came in and out of this club, therefore it was a careful disguise. Although, since she was plain and unknown, she had an inkling they would not recognize her all too much. However, she could not take any chances, she slipped once already with Colin finding her out the day before.

She found her target sitting at the corner, in the crowded loud saloon, taking a swig at a large glass of brandy. She grinned to herself as she stood behind him stealthily.

"Hello! Suitor of mine," Penelope purposely said out loud, startling Michael who was mid-drinking his brandy, he spilled some onto his breeches. 

“Ah!” Michael yelped, whipping his head to look at her. “What the-,”

Penelope moved her hood just slightly to reveal her face and red hair, smiling mischievously down at him. She brought a gloved hand to her lips indicating for him to shush, and not draw attention.

"Peh… ah!” he stopped himself, looking around, hoping no one heard him. No one was really paying attention to them. He then glared at her, whispering. “How did you know I would be here? Forget that, WHY are you here? This is no place for you.”

"Spare me, dear suitor. I took an unmarked carriage here. No one from the ton saw me nor would they recognize me," she told him. Although she was just caught yesterday by Colin. Ten years went by with her traipsing around town without detection, and all that came to an end yesterday. 

"You sound like you do this often," he frowned, disapproving, as he continued to wipe brandy off his breeches.

She grinned. "There are many a-things I do often, many do not know of. Ma...may I?" She asked, pointing to the seat next to him. 

"Your mother would have my head if she found you in a club in London, in a very non-Mayfair side of the world dare I say."

"Hardly. It is why I could slip away unnoticed into parts of London like these." She took a seat next to him. "And while this is not Mayfair and one of the seedier clubs at the edge of the ton, this is also not the east end, Michael."

"I am terrified to ask how you know this is tamer than the east end as this is hardly safe for a woman like you," he frowned. 

"Oh come off it, please, you sound like Colin when he found out,"  Penelope said rolling her eyes.

"Colin?" Michael blinked, his dark eyebrows winged down, creasing his forehead. As if everything she was telling was confusing. Penelope couldn’t help but smile. “Hold on. I do not know which is more shocking. The fact you sound like you do this often, or the fact that Colin found out that you do this often.”

Penelope bit her lip hard around the smile that tugged at her mouth. She didn’t know how much she wanted to tell him, and instantly crimsoned when she remembered her tryst with Colin in the carriage yesterday. She figured Michael would be the only one she could ever say these words to. Michael had somewhat become her bestfriend if she could categorize him. 

Watching her, his eyes alight with curiosity and anticipation. “Penelope, do explain, or I am forced to wrangle it out of you, I will use any means. There is so much brewing in that head of yours, I can see it all on your face.”

A sheepish twitch curled at the corner of her mouth, as the heat began to rise in her cheeks. She finally cleared her throat and exhaled. "I thought I would never say this because I thought it would never happen but..." she trailed off, her eyes dropping to the table, then exhaling again, her eyes darted back up to look at him.

She blurted out the sentence in one breath and so quickly she thought she didn't say it at all. "In short, a lot happened the day before, and Colin and I had marital relations and he just asked me to marry him." She quickly shut her eyes after that whole word spew.

"What?!" Michael hollered out so loud, Penelope thought the whole pub screeched to a silence. She wanted to dive underneath the table to hide, but when she snapped her eyes open, she realized how loud the pub was and Michael’s exclamation was drowned.

Penelope could see a million questions storming through Michael’s silver eyes. 

"There were circumstances that occurred, one thing led to another that landed me there…" she found herself explaining with a sheepish smile to Michael. She could see Michael opening his mouth to ask but she beat him to it with a shake of a head.

“And circumstances that I will keep between my future husband and I." There it was, as much as Penelope wanted to tell Michael she kept it vague. Truthfully, there were only things between her and Colin she wanted to keep, this being one of them. The fact that Colin was the first to find out she was Lady Whistledown was one sign Penelope took to mean it was something special she had with Colin. There was a reason why the Universe made her childhood love find out first, right?

Michael’s eyes scanned her for a few seconds before he nodded. A self-satisfied smile adorned his face, in such a Michael fashion she grew to love.

"First off, I told you marital relations happen often out of marriage... and secondly, Future husband eh? So you said yes?"

Penelope was so thankful he did not prod further, he just accepted her vague explanation and was genuinely happy for her.

"I actually did not say yes, or no,” Penelope confessed. Shock registered Michael’s features as his forehead creased in confusion. He gripped the ends of the table. 

“Penelope, don’t keep me in suspense, tell me more,” He urged.

“Well, I had to keep him quivering in his boots, he really thought I would say yes off the bat,” Penelope said with all the confidence in the world. Years ago, she would’ve easily said yes if Colin asked her, but she knew she deserved better. And if that meant leaving the love of her life at the edge, then so be it.  “As if I would fall at his feet-,” she paused. “Actually without giving you details, I did fall at his feet, but not for fawning over him, he just shocked me with his very abrupt proposal that I ended up missing a carriage step and falling at his feet." 

A shattered laugh escaped her lips when she remembered how clumsily she fell face-first onto the pavement.  "So, I just told him I had to think. Which I had to. He's uncommonly unlike himself for the last few weeks." However, she could not stop a sly smile tugging at the ends of her lips. 

Michaels’s eyes widened, his mouth falling open, a hand flying to his chest. "Penelope Featherington, you are quite diabolical."

She did have a think about it, all night in fact. She was elated, however, she did want to see if he was seriously asking her, or if he was just jealous of Michael. As Lady Whistledown she knew so well from writing how the ton’s men tended to act like utter fools, with them wanting things they can’t have. And once they obtain it, they instantly throw it away, like women were just objects. Now, Penelope knew Colin was better than that, however, she couldn’t be too sure. They had all their lives for him to notice her, why did he notice her now, 12 years later? Giving Colin time and space to think about the proposal would give them both clarity on their decision.

Penelope shrugged. "I do love him, but he has also infuriated me throughout this whole season. Acting like a child, hurting you, yelling at me, following me, engaging in  marital relations, asking me for my hand in marriage all in the same week Michael.” Penelope huffed. “It’s a whiplash.”

"12 seasons to be exact," Michael reminded her, making her burst into laughter. 

"Therefore I didn't think making him wait a whole day for the answer of his proposal was cruel."

Michael nodded. "Agreed. You won't see me disagreeing. If anything, he deserved it." Michael chuckled. "You have probably let him off lighter than he should. Although he still does not know what the answer is, maybe you can let him wait another 12 years as revenge.”

Penelope choked on a laugh as she glared at his foolish jest. She then took a breath.

"This does mean, our mayhem would have to come to an end," Penelope gave him a sad smile.

Michael reached out to touch her hand on the table. "Our mayhem will never truly be over if we do not wish it to be," he snickered, but she could see his eyes dim with sadness.

Penelope couldn't contain her laughter as she moved closer and cupped Michaels’s face in her hands. 

"You my dear Michael Sterling, have given me so much confidence, ideas and… most importantly, given me a friend. You are the kindest, sweet, loving, best person one could have. I wish with all my soul she finally realizes as well." Penelope said, cradling Michaels’s face, pressing her palms lightly against his cheek.

Penelope could feel tears of adoration start to pool at the back of her eyes. She truly adored Michael. He was such a kindred soul to hers, it was a bond that would prove unbreakable, she knew it. "I wish you so much happiness." 

"I doubt it,” Michael said in a thickening voice, his chin lowered, breaking eye contact with Pen. His posture has sagged, and Penelope felt like she kept him up with her palms on his cheeks. Penelope's heart ached so badly for him, she thought she could burst out in tears at the moment.

But no, she had to be strong for him, like he did for her this whole ride. While their circumstances were similar, and they had borne an unparalleled kinship from this, she knew his was more complicated. Francesca was married to his cousin before, there was an air of taboo on both sides.

"You might be very surprised, I never thought Colin would want to marry me. But here we are," Penelope shook her thoughts away and boldly told him. She knew Francesca loved Michael. She was probably just afraid. “I think you’re going to be very happy Michael Sterling. You absolutely deserve it,” she said with confidence. She believed he would find his happy story.

Finally, Michael answered by looking up at her, his eyes flashing with hope for a second, as his lips tugged into a minuscule but lovely smile. A hand raised up to caress her hand that was on his cheek. He nodded, and Penelope took that to mean that he believed her.

"Are you kidding me?!" a guttural roar permeated their moment.  Penelope whipped her head around to see a very angry dragon of a Bridgerton. Colin’s nostrils flared and had a corded neck. He looked dangerous and Penelope had never seen him like that before, she had to act fast.

The thought of Penelope with Michael, anyone really , it was disgusting. He wouldn't allow for it. It was abominable—and before the thought could even be completed, a rush of raging wild hot anger rushed through him when he found Penelope with Michael.

After leaving the Bridgerton home, again, he saw Penelope, donned in her- what he will call her incognito outfit, climb into another unmarked carriage. If Colin thought he saw red when he saw her do something dangerous, he sure lost his mind when he quickly followed her into the club only to see them locked in an intimate manner.

Colin angrily marched up towards Michael, his fists clenching and unclenching before Penelope shot up from her seat and stepped in front of Michael protecting him.

"Colin Bridgerton whatever it is you are planning on doing. Stop it right now." She hissed, protecting Michael, glaring at him. 

"You rejected my proposal and went straight to him?" Colin ground out. "You do know he is in love with my sister? And always have been?"

Penelope sighed and glanced at Colin. "Of course I know," she tilted her head. "I knew before Michael told me." She gave him a look, one that Colin couldn’t decipher. She was staring at him, blinking rapidly, her forehead creasing. Her bright blue-greens looked like they were trying to speak to him. Colin stared back dumbly.

She sighed again and cocked her head towards Michael who was sitting behind her. "I knew ages ago,” she blinked again rapidly, her forehead creasing even more. “I knew because I observed , you understand, I observe people,” she raised a brow as her hands were nervously fidgeting.

AH , Colin finally understood. The only thing Penelope was missing on saying was ‘and write about them since I am Lady Whistledown’. Penelope was trying to quietly communicate with him, since he now had information of her identity as Lady Whistledown.

Colin frowned and unclenched his fists that were by his sides before pulling at his lapels, composing himself. His eyes darted to Michael behind her. Then back at Penelope. He nodded, communicating back to her he understood. However, he still did not like what he saw.

"We are leaving," Colin just said, grabbing Penelope with such force she knocked straight into his chest. She looked back to Michael who raised his brandy at her. He was grinning at the two of them. Colin was not amused. 

"Ah, this is an intimate event, not meant for prying eyes, You two best leave,” Michael said agreeing with Colin. Colin just dragged Penelope out of the club through her protests. 

“COLIN Bridgerton," Penelope all but yelled in the streets. She did not care if the whole ton heard them, she was not going to have her future husband be so cruel to someone she cared about. That, and the fact that she was Lady Whistledown, and no one was writing about this fast enough for news to travel. She was confident that her reprimand of Colin in the alleyways of a drunken men’s club will go unnoticed. 

"Penelope Featherington?” he replied back.

“Don't be coy with me. Go back in there and apologize to Michael for being such a brute. How unappealing,” Penelope pulled her arm away from his grasp.

“Unappealing? How dare you?" He hissed, he was ready to lay everything on her. " You vex me, Penelope. First, you run around with Kilmartin, secondly you… well, you're Lady Whistledown,” he all but whispered this part. “Third you reject my proposal, fourth you come back to the area a woman of your caliber should not be. You shouldn't be on an alleyway near a Club that is at the edge of Mayfair! Only scoundrels of the ton come  here.”

“Oh like yourself?” She shot back, folding her arms. 

"I am so cross with you, we are in a fight.” Colin gritted his teeth. He had a maddening feeling of being mad at her, yet also wanting to completely kiss her senseless in this empty alleyway. It thrilled him to do so.

"Oh, we are definitely officially in a fight. Once I would've been surprised at that because Colin Bridgerton never gets cross, or throws tantrums, raises his voice, gets angry. However, that is all of the traits you’ve been showing this entire season.” Penelope shot back. 

"I beg your pardon? I am human. I have all of those emotions. Why does everyone think I do not get angry?!” There was no mistaking the flash of anger that passed through his features. 

"Because you’re Colin Bridgerton! The ton’s darling! Your mother even once said you could get away with murder with just your smile,” Penelope told him with a laugh. “But it is nice to see you do have some insecurities, and not completely perfect,” she continued.

"Are you saying I'm not perfect?” he asked, his face stricken with hurt. Penelope’s heart sank to her belly, she didn’t like seeing Colin so hurt, despite the fact he was quite irrational the last few days. She still loved this man and she had to explain to him that being imperfect wasn’t bad. In fact, she was extremely happy about it.

Penelope spoke softly, a smile tugging at the ends of her lips.  “No… surprisingly, you’re not. Which is good. It’s great actually.” she said, exhaling. “I’ve put you on this pedestal for so long, it’s actually nice to see you… not be perfect.”

“Ouch, that hurts,” Colin swallowed hard.

“It’s a good thing, Colin,” She stressed each syllable, making sure he understood. 

“Penelope, I know. I understand. I...I am always composed. I never raise my voice, I am rarely angry. I am the charming easygoing Bridgerton. Not the angry brute. That's reserved for Anthony.. I..I am not like this,” heat spread through his cheeks, his voice strangely shaky.

"I am aware, then why-”Penelope asked before Colin let out an exasperated sigh, raking a hand through his hair. Penelope had wished it was her who ran her fingers through his hair. She remembered how soft it was yesterday. She instantly blushed thinking about it.

"You Penelope. YOU are why I am like this. Is it not clear?" The words spilled out of his mouth as if the answer was obvious. 

Penelope was shocked, her head spun dizzily at his words. "Wh… What? Was it clear to you?”

"Only very recently,” he confessed, his eyes unusually piercing.

"Then you should know if it wasn't evident to you, it isn't to me. I still don't believe you want to marry me,” her heart was dancing merrily in her chest.

"But I do! I apologize it took me very long to realize how much I want you. And I thought the only way I can have you is to marry me. You belong to me. And I want to marry you. I want your first and last kiss to only be with me. Your only kiss. I don't want anyone else touching you as I touched you yesterday.” Colin said with such heavy emotion, Penelope felt a strange sensation tighten her throat at his words.

Colin pulled her closer by the waist so fast, she couldn’t register what was happening. She felt warmth go through her with deep affection for him. He brushed a thumb over her lips, and she exhaled. The wicked thoughts in her head wanted to bite on his thumb and suck on it, but this was not the time for those thoughts. She could feel herself reddened and heat up from these thoughts.

"I truly believe you are mine Penelope, not Kilmartin, not anyone else’s," he nearly spat out that word. " Mine , tell me you feel the same? That I am yours,” he whispered huskily, his breath against her skin.

Her pulse rocketed in her throat,  she could taste it at the back of her throat. Butterflies danced in her stomach, her heart in her chest threatened to leap up. She had to swallow and finally responded, hoping her voice wouldn’t break, but it was difficult to contain her emotion. 

"Oh Colin, I’ve felt it since we first met.”

With that confession, Colin lowered his head and brushed kisses across her neck, cheeks and finally claimed her mouth. His hands cupped her face, so he could properly kiss her, his tongue seeking her deeper. His hands slid behind her head into the warmth of her hair, deepening their kiss. Penelope savored him.

His movement was exquisite, seductive, and yet, so loving. Penelope just slumped into him and surrendered everything. Lord, how she loved this man and how he made her feel. 

He finally released her lips but continued to hold her in his embrace, loosening his grip with tenderness. She reached out to brush the lock of hair that fell on his forehead from the kiss.

"Apologies," Colin finally said, catching his breath. "I apologize for being such an idiot. I was just reeling the whole day because you said no to my proposal, I thought you might’ve wanted to marry someone else.”

"I did not say no-,” Penelope retorted.

"You also did not say yes!” Colin huffed. In this light, Penelope could compare him to a little boy, and she found it endearing. He then frowned his face turned serious as his eyes searching her face. “Wait, then, did you accept my proposal?” 

Penelope glanced back at him, and she saw his worry, and behind that, she saw that his eyes were demanding and passionate, hungry for something she herself was starving for. She could get used to this look Colin gave her. Stifling a smile she tilted her head to the side.

"I've waited 12 years, what’s a couple more hours?” she said playfully, a grin curled at the corner of her mouth, but all it did was elicit a groan from him. She saw his expression change from worry to frankenstein of relief and defeat. His gaze lingered on her, sparking a blaze of fire in his eyes.

"Penelope, you are cruel." Colin forced out in a semi-tone, clearly chewing on her words. " But I suppose not as much as I.” he pulled her again into a tight embrace.

“You can scold me until death do us part for not realizing this sooner,” Colin grumbled, he mused within her ear, his breath cascading down her neck.

“Well, if you are offering,” Penelope challenged with a smile. “You can go back in and apologize to Michael.” On cue, Colin made an exasperated sound low in his throat in protest but did not say anything else.

Penelope was amused and enjoyed this. “And after that, we can continue the conversation on how I can scold you till death do us part,” Penelope couldn’t help the amusement seeping through her voice. “Please be nice to him, Colin. I adore him greatly.”

"The more you speak of him the more I want to draw blood on this land. You do not get to speak about a man other than me like that," Colin pouted,his voice was thick with possession. 

Penelope tinkled with laughter. "We are not in love with each other like that and you know this. His heart is vulnerable. You know how you Bridgertons are. You just break our hearts with no thought about us. I just understand him. He is hurting Colin, like how I hurt.” Her eyes searched his face, hoping he would understand.

Colin's features softened as he pulled her into another tight embrace, craning his neck to hide his face in her neck, inhaling her essence. “Then I need to go off and make my future wife happy don't I? Starting with something I utterly do not want to do.”

When Colin walked in he heard a brawl, was he gone that long? It was pretty loud but peaceful just a moment ago. However, now he walked into a situation where Kilmartin overturned a table, trying to get at some slimy Lord whose name escapes Colin because he was not important.

From what he heard and saw, Kilmartin was defending his sister from the slime.

This man had it for his sister. Colin shook his head. He knew this, yet, his obsession with Penelope blinded and he acted like an utter ass to someone like Kilmartin who was only being a friend to Penelope. However, he was still cross at both of them for playing tricks with both his and Francesca’s hearts. Although, if they did not would they have broken out of their haze? He really did not have room to be too angry with Kilmartin or Penelope. Penelope had a point if she had hurt this long, Kilmartin probably did too. Francesca was stubborn, if he daresay, the most stubborn Bridgerton.

“Kilmartin,” Colin called out when Michael stormed out of the saloon. Michael did not look happy to see him there.

“Bridgerton, what is it? I’m in no mood right now to fight, I just got out of one.” he snapped.

“I saw, come,” Colin said walking to a more private section of the Club. He did not wait for Michael, but luckily the man followed him anyway. They both settled into their seats, Colin ordering a glass of brandy for both of them. There was silence between the two men. It was odd how much they did not converse without Penelope with them.

"Thanks for defending my sister's honor,” Colin finally broke the silence.

"I would do that for anyone,” Michael shrugged.

"I would've helped you sock those men if they didn't back down..no one talks about my sister like that," Colin offered.

"That would be appreciated if it happened,” Michael nodded. He then quirked a brow at him. “Why are you here? Didn’t you leave with Pen?”

Colin’s jaw hardened, feeling a misplaced prickle of jealousy. “It would be nice if you aren’t so familiar with her.”

“Ah, but I am,” Michael grinned, his words grinded into Colin’s skin. “And you, are an arsehole,” he pointed his glass at Colin.

"What did you just say? I am certain I misheard you," Colin asked, his head whipping up to glare at him. 

"You are an arsehole," Michael repeated knowing very well Colin heard him. "You have.. had , a perfectly good thing for years . You should be counting your stars on the fact Penelope didn't speak to anyone while you were off gallivanting the world while you left her here.”

Colin balked, his hands gripped the glass he was holding tightly. Colin gritted his teeth, because, god, how Kilartin was right. This last month was absolute torture watching Penelope speak to someone besides him. He had blinders on for so long, and it definitely came off this year, and he didn’t know when this year it happened. Was it when he returned? The kiss? He didn’t know. 

Well, two can play this game. A smirk lined his lips.

"Pardon, and what about you? Leaving my sister whom you clearly are in love with for years. Only to come back to cause mayhem with my Penelope.” He pointed out. Kilmartin’s jaw ticked. Ah, he elicited a reaction.

"Did Penelope tell you?” Kilmartin asked, taking a sip of his brandy, not looking at Colin.

"No. I just noticed a long time ago." Colin took another sip. "I notice a lot of things." 

"Except your future wife,” Kilmartin said, now it was his turn to smirk.

Colin cringed, his stomach clenched in a cold icy knot. Trust Michael to stab him in his already vulnerable heart. "And I take full responsibility for that and Penelope knows I will move the world for her. And right now, I don't want to apologize but I suppose I have to. My future wife insists on it." Colin's lips tugged into a smile. He loved saying the word wife. Even though she was not yet his. It just felt right.

"Spare me, Bridgerton. You look lovesick and a fool." Michael said in disgust.

"And you look miserable and forlorn," Colin shot back. "I prefer to be lovesick." In truth, Colin did love this feeling. Years aimless wandering the world, and he found everything he needed here, home.

"I will tell Pen- future Mrs. Bridgerton, that you sincerely apologized to me for all your childish tantrums." Kilmartin raised his glass in honor. “You have my word.”

"Thank you for putting kind words for me sir,” Colin raised his glass in agreement, taking the last gulp of his brand before getting up to leave. He had done his part. However, Kilmartin surprised him.

"Bridgerton, a question before you go,” Michael started.

“I suppose I must entertain, go on.” Colin did not sit back down. He was eager to finish the conversation and run to Penelope. 

"When did you realize you love Penelope?" Michael asked, staring straight at him.

Colin was taken aback he did not say he loved Penelope to anyone yet, including Penelope. However, if Michael observed him, as much as he observed Michael with his sister… then Michael was right. 

He loved her. He loved Penelope Featherington, there was no doubt about it. There was no turning back now.

“I can’t tell you the exact point in time, it could’ve been last week when we kissed, could’ve been yesterday when I caught-,” Colin caught himself in time before he divulged Penelope’s biggest secret, and he did not want to do so. Only he knew who she really was, and he wanted to keep it that way. “Nevermind that, what I am meaning to say is, I do not know the time or place, I just know I love her.”

Michael nodded, looking deep in thought. Possibly thinking about his sister. Colin watched Michael and his sister, and they were both clearly in love with each other. Pulling from what his brother’s told him that morning, he imparted his knowledge on Michael.

"Just ask her to marry you." The words just sprung out of Colin’s mouth. "You love her don't you?"

"She will positively say no.” Michael said tiredly, glancing at him. 

"Just marry her Kilmartin." He repeated again. “I know it is not easy for you, but I do suggest you just marry her. Us Bridgertons are awfully stubborn, and unfortunately very daft, but I am sure you can break her defenses." He knew deep down, Francesca had feelings for Michael. If not, she would not have run away today. Running away is a normal Bridgerton trait, if they did not want to face things that were inevitable. He understood this now.

He belonged with Penelope even after leaving so many times to travel. He always came back home. Home was where Penelope was. Colin was so sure Francesca’s home was in Scotland with Michael.

Kilmartin glared at him, shock streaking his face but he quickly masked it with a smirk. “She will not marry me. I do not want to make light of Pen’s situation, however, our circumstances are more complicated than yours and Pen’s.”

Colin had to agree with this. His and Penelope’s issues boiled down to well, just him. If he realized earlier they would’ve been married with a ton of kids by now. Kilmartin had other blockers with Francesca. Much more, he wagered.

“Right.”Colin deduced Michael did not want to talk to him about it but happily spoke to Penelope. However, he understood the circumstances were different. He was a Bridgerton and related to Francesca. Michael definitely did not want to have a heart-to-heart with him about this. So Colin respected it and started to walk away but paused at the entrance of the private room.

"For what it's worth, Kilmartin. Despite my disagreement and reluctance, my wife thinks highly of you and thinks you are a good man.” He scoffed. “In fact, every time she speaks of you I want to break things. The sheer adoration she has for you.”

“Calm yourself, Bridgerton. By now you know she only loves you.” Michael assured him.

“What I am saying is - while I do not precisely like you, my wife adores you and you are perfect for my sister. She has gone through a tremendous amount of hurt at her age, and I know she is stubborn. But I have seen the way she looks at you. She needs you...just, pick your balls up and just… make it happen.”

Colin could see Michael bite the inside of his cheek. The man was clearly in turmoil inside, but Colin quickly dashed his pity away from Michael and smirked at him.

Michael deflected and after a long pause said. "Future."

Colin frowned. "I beg your pardon?"

"You're not married yet. Your future wife adores me," he corrected Colin on what Colin previously said.

Colin actually chuckled and waved him off. “She is going to be my wife soon. You can deflect what I said as much as you want, but I still stand by what I said, Kilmartin. Throw her over your shoulder and just marry her." Colin said. “She’s left for Scotland.”

Michael whipped his head up to look at Colin. “I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but she’s leaving for Scotland today. And if this is her gesture, then you have a chance, because you elicited such a reaction. Heck, I probably traveled a couple of times the last few years because I couldn’t face my feelings for Penelope, I don’t know.” Colin told Michael truthfully. “But I know she needs you more than she needs us. Go home and go get her.”

And with that Colin left Michael to his thoughts. 

"Did you apologize?" Penelope asked when Colin emerged from the Club and joined her in his carriage.

Colin nodded at her. “We had a good conversation, are you happy now?”

Penelope’s eyes glittered, her face brightening as she clapped her hands together. “Splendid! Yes, I am very happy. It was not so bad, was it?”

"You will be the talk of the town, a suitor, and then a marriage proposal from a person completely different from your suitor?” Colin chuckled as the carriage started to move.

“Scandalous. A shame it won't be highly publicized,” Penelope's eyes had a glint of mischief, and Colin knew what she had meant. While Colin was still getting used to the fact Penelope was Lady Whistledown he was still not all too comfortable about it. He was terrified of what would happen if anyone found out. But, as her future husband, he was prepared to protect her, fielding anything that would come their way because of it. 

“I should hope not. Considering someone is hopefully in retirement.” Colin quirked a brow at her and Penelope nodded vigorously. “But I was thinking of a small wedding away from everyone.”

“I would love that,” Penelope said gleefully.

"Now, should we continue what we should've done yesterday in the carriage?" Desire dripped from his lips, he wanted to completely ravish Penelope in this carriage.

"Colin Bridgerton. That is highly inappropriate. Conducting marital relations outside of marriage." Penelope said coyly, but she was moving closer to Colin in the carriage.

"Well that had never stopped us before,” Colin grinned as he kissed Penelope again. She squirmed playfully. “But since we’re in love, we should get married post haste, shouldn't we? And make up for lost time."

“Oh I do love that idea,” Penelope grinned, her eyes alight with desire and anticipation.

“And I love you,” Colin pushed her down onto the carriage seat to continue what they did yesterday.

The End

5 days later

To: London

 Penelope Featherington Bridgerton

From: Scotland

Lord Kilmartin

Dear Penelope Featherington, now Bridgerton (?). I am Frannie is utterly furious at the two of you getting married so quickly without me us. You have a lot of explaining to do. 

~Your Kindred Soul, Michael Sterling

Chapter Text

To: 

Penelope Bridgerton

Bloomsbury, London
May XX, 1824

Dear Penelope Featherington, now Bridgerton (?),

I am Frannie is utterly furious at the two of you for getting married so quickly without me us. You have a lot of explaining to do. 

Your Kindred Soul,
Michael Sterling

To: 

Lord Kilmartin

Kilmartin Estate, Scotland
May XX, 1824

Dearest inquiring Lord Kilmartin,

I apologize tremendously, my dearest friend. I had been meaning to write. However, it has been dreadfully hectic and chaotic (yes, more so than you were here), because circumstances arose whereby we had no choice but to pull the wedding forward. I know it was terribly rude of me not to correspond sooner, but I promise you it was not on purpose.

My husband alluded to it was ‘for the greater good’ (it is odd that I have a husband!)--and, no, it is not because Colin did not want to invite you to our wedding. It was just circumstances that were pressing. If it pleases you, the circumstances were my fault. 

Oh, you are now writing on behalf of Francesca? Colin and I are intrigued. Please do explain yourself, in detail if you may. 

I remain, dear sir, your kindred spirit, 

Penelope Bridgerton 

To: 

Penelope Bridgerton

Bloomsbury, London
May XX, 1824

Dearest Pen,

I would be truly grateful if you continue to call me Michael if you please. Even though correspondences are formal and we have been apart for days, I would still prefer Michael to ‘Lord Kilmartin’. 

May I ask of what circumstances? The same circumstances you could not tell me about before? Or are those circumstances to do with marital relations? I jest, unless you want to elaborate, which I hope you do . I have a slight inkling on what it is. And  if so, I commend you and Colin for pulling up the wedding for his greater good (and hopefully yours too.) Trust me, I am wicked (and intelligent) enough to know why it has happened. Most would know why a wedding would be hastened.  Although, not a scandal now is it -  now that you are married. 

As for Francesca,if I were to give you an explanation in detail, your husband would certainly put my head on a spike for corrupting you, and for speaking of his sister in an unholy manner. 

Therefore, all I will say is I am slowly but surely catching Frannie's attention in more ways than one. I will keep you posted on my endeavors.

Lastly, while I am truly disheartened that I did not know of your hasty wedding, I am nevertheless overjoyed by your union. Your current husband kept calling you ‘wife’ without actually being married to you yet. You were just betrothed.  His wishes did come true.

Truly overjoyed, but nonetheless dismayed, 

Your Kindred Spirit

Michael Sterling

To: 

Lord Kilmartin

Kilmartin Estate, Scotland
May XX, 1824

Dearest Michael,

I would have utterly loved your presence at my wedding. However, by the time my letter would've reached you it would’ve been far too late. Additionally, please do forgive me, I was in shall we say, turmoil for a few days after your departure, after Frannie to Scotland. One day I hope to share why this is so. Alas, it can only be between me and  my husband. 

Your cryptic messages about Frannie leads me to believe there are some marital relations abound. 

Colin is still bewildered that you did not just marry her. Although, if I may give you my thoughts, he says this, but he would also feel hurt if you just married her without inviting us if you were to get married.

Oh, but dear heavens I am getting ahead of myself, or rather, maybe I am an oracle of some sort?

Eager for your correspondence,

Penelope Bridgerton

To: 

Lord Kilmartin

Kilmartin Estate, Scotland
May XX, 1824

Dearest Michael,

I know it has only been probably only a couple of days since my last correspondence, and you might have already sent one, but I had to write this in haste. I have no one to turn to besides Colin, and currently he is out.

Something awful has just happened and while this might reach you days after what has happened, I just had the urge to cry into a letter. Colin has not returned yet and I am terrified of telling him. I wish I could tell you more. But in short, I have been blackmailed and it is all my fault. I fear bringing Colin into my past transgressions. Colin is a wonderful husband and I don't want to object to my utter carelessness. 

 I could be selfish and careless before with my decisions, but now that I am married into the Bridgerton family - I would not in good heart bring Colin or his family into this. Please accept my apologies if I am being too abstruse and discombobulated, I just do not know what to do or where to turn. Thank you for being a special soul in reading my highs and lows. 

Utterly distressed,

Penelope Bridgerton

To: 

Penelope Bridgerton

Bloomsbury, London
May XX, 1824

Dearest Pen,

I do hope by now you have spoken to Colin? I have seen your  husband’s wrath, as I have been on the receiving end, which leads me to know the man is clearly protective of you. He is a man who would do everything he could possibly fathom in making sure you're safe. This I am sure of. 

You need not worry. Do you need my help? Please let me know. I assure you I would gladly come to London if you need my help. Frannie and I would gladly come down to see family as well. Please correspond if you need anything from me and Frannie.

Although, I know Colin will have everything settled and squared. He will protect you.

Your Kindred Soul ready to assist,

Michael Sterling

To: 

Lord Kilmartin

Kilmartin Estate, Scotland
May XX, 1824

Dearest Michael,

I don't know how fast the word has traveled to you, therefore I hope you hear from me first. This will not be easy, therefore I implore you to approach this with an open mind. It will be a series of explanations that I could never disclose before now. This will be a few pages long, forgive in advance.

I am Lady Whistledown. In short, these are the circumstances that led to my marriage being hasty. 

The last day I saw you at the gentlemen’s club, Colin had found out about my...occupation the night before and stopped me from releasing a very scathing article. I then released the same article he stopped me from sending by accident too early during a ball that same week and everyone read it.

I am sure Frannie received an article from Violet about it. It was exposing Cressida Twombley as a fraud. Colin was furious about it at first, but I had refused to let it go. Lady Whistledown is my legacy and I am very proud of it. However, that careless mistake caused an unraveling. While Colin was furious, one thing led to another. He decided to pull the wedding up to protect me...amongst other things. Things I can not elucidate as I am too much of a lady to write in here.

There you have it. I apologize for the cryptic nature of the circumstances that circled my correspondence to you. You are also certainly correct onto the fact that Colin would protect me. Colin orchestrated announcing me as lady Whistledown in the Hasting’s Ball. He had collected help from all of the Brudgerton’s, Duke of Hastings and Lady Danbury . He stood up in front of the entire ton and fought and protected me. It was the only way to stop Cressida’s blackmail, and save me.

Thank you. Colin, begrudgingly, also says thank you for  your aid. He told me if he absolutely needed more forces he would’ve called upon you. Thank you for being there for us.

Your humble kindred soul,

Penelope Bridgerton

To: 

Penelope Bridgerton

Bloomsbury, London
May XX, 1824

Dear Pen Lady Whistledown,

I am speechless. However, not entirely shocked. You were naturally sharp and intelligent to ever just be Penelope Featherington, citrus fruit and wallflower to the ton. Yes, I have read a few of these articles. I had a strange suspicion, but I also do not pay attention to  gossip… which, as I slowly write this and come to think of it…Lord Almighty, pardon my language, you have single-handedly brought the ton to its  knees with your articles.

I have the utmost respect for you, Lady Whistledown. Bravo. I have always believed Colin married up, and he was more lucky to have you than the other way around. I still believe this and am solidified in my thoughts. 

You are forgiven for not inviting us to your wedding considering the circumstances is one of the biggest scandals of the century. But as a touche. Frannie and I got married quietly. As we speak she is writing a letter to your family. This would both reach you and the Bridgerton’s accordingly.

I would wager to say consider this payback for penning me “Merry  Rake” during your scandalous Whistledown days.

Former Merry Rake,

Michael Sterling

To: 

Lord Kilmartin

Kilmartin Estate, Scotland
May XX, 1824

Why do you break my heart, kind sir?

I am overjoyed and off my bottom with happiness for you. This calls for a celebration!

Likewise, I am dismayed for  missing  your wedding. I will only forgive you if you had a big scandal, such as, let's say getting outed as…Lady Whistledown, I will continue to be forlorn for  not attending this wedding. 

Nevertheless, I am over the moon for this union.

And I think it's safe to tell you, Colin is furious (but happy) that he did not know about your wedding. Did I not predict this outcome?

Pay no heed to my irrational husband. He is as overjoyed as I am. He is currently writing a letter to Francesca outlining his joy, and other older brotherly guises for her.

You and Francesca are actually very lucky because another Bridgerton has caused more kerfuffle than you did. Eloise has run away to an unknown man's house, far from London.  The Bridgerton brothers, including my husband, have decided that was more pressing than going to Scotland and kicking down the door of someone they already knew should've been with Francesca. 

Therefore, you are safe and welcome to the family.. However, we are still going to throw a lovely after wedding soiree for you both when you return to London. Please do say you will be coming to London soon.

I do hope it will be soon! 

Forever your new favorite sister-in-law,

Penelope Bridgerton

To: 

Penelope Bridgerton

Bloomsbury, London
May XX, 1824

Dearest favorite sister-in-law,

I suppose I should thank your scandal and my other sister-in-law (Eloise) for creating a scandal that surpasses ours. 

We would love to come by to London, and soon, however we have a duty at the estate to keep it ready and well for the winter. I have left my duties for far too long here in Scotland. Once this is completed, we will visit London. In the meantime, is Scotland on  the horizon for both you and Colin? We would love the company.

Forever your favorite-in-law,

Michael Sterling

To: 

Lord Kilmartin

Kilmartin Estate, Scotland
May XX, 1824

Dearest favorite in-law,

I have never been to Scotland and would love to visit. However, I have to travel to Eloise’s wedding, if Violet’s letter did not reach Francesca in time, then take this as a confirmation that Eloise is getting married, and by the time you receive this she would’ve been wed most likely. She does not know I am Lady Whistledown yet, but I am ready to let her know. It is something I have been worried about because at the time of my scandal, Eloise disappeared and now we know why. 

Additionally, if you were to send me a letter, we will be in Rose and Bramble Inn, Near Tetbury, Gloucestershire.

Your kindred spirit in-law,

Penelope Bridgerton

To: 

Penelope Bridgerton

Rose and bramble Inn, Gloucestershire

May XX, 1824

Dearest Sister-in-law,

Frannie, pardon, Francesca Bridgerton is now again throwing a tantrum for not being invited to both her siblings’ weddings. I had to write Francesca Bridgerton in full because she has stated she feels as if she does not exist for missing both Colin’s and Eloise’s wedding. I did not think it bothered her as much. However, it does. Do not worry I reminded her, she has been in Scotland this whole time and her family loves her. However, please do get a Bridgerton or two, to visit. Francesca is lamenting on how she is always ignored and forgotten.

I told her what're the odds 3 Bridgertons would get married in a span of a month, it is quite the miracle.

First yours and Colin’s, but I am led to believe Frannie has forgiven you because of the Lady Whistledown scandal, she now understands why she was not told. As for Eloise, this was also a hasty marriage, I could not see Francesca arriving in time for that wedding.

However, nothing really comes easy with the Bridgertons is it now? You and I both know that it is never easy, always convoluted, chaotic, disarrayed… yet such a marvelous benediction to us. 

Forever calming down Mrs. Sterling,

Michael Sterling

To: 

Lord Kilmartin

Kilmartin Estate, Scotland
May XX, 1824

Dearest saint of an in-law,

Hopefully, this will reach you before we do. We recently left Eloise’s wedding, it was lovely by the way and Eloise is definitely sorry both of you could not make it. However, Eloise wants revenge due to her knowing I was Lady Whistledown last. This would not be detrimental if Eloise did not consult Hyacinth. She’s offered a boon and we are in the most dangerous Bridgerton’s line of sight.

Therefore, after debating profusely with my husband, and after receiving your letter. It makes perfect sense to go to Scotland. Firstly, Francesca would be overjoyed, secondly, it is a place Eloise and Hyacinth will not find us and exact revenge, therefore, you can find us on our way to the Kilmartin Estate. Posthaste.

Eagerly excited in law, 

Penelope Bridgerton

Michael chuckled as he placed the letter he just read from Penelope down, shaking with laughter.  The door to his study opened and he saw his wife was walking toward him seductively. Every night since they got married, she would whisk him away from his desk. It was lovely.

He enjoyed being wicked with her. 

"Darling," Michael looked up to see his wife who was ready for bed and other activities. “Did you have a good day?”

“As well as it can go while my husband was away on his duties,” she slowly sauntered behind him and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing his shoulder.

“We will have some guests visiting us,” he grinned at her, turning to look at her shocked face.

"Oh? Who? When? Here? Are you sure for us?” Francesca’s eyes lit up. He loved it when she was happy.

"Yes, our favorite family members, they are probably arriving any day now,” he said waving around the letter, passing it to Frannie who grabbed it and started reading it. He couldn’t stop laughing when he read it and nor did Francesca. The Bridgertons were a chaotic bunch but it was such a blessing being part of it.

“Serves them right for getting married so quickly and for keeping such a secret like Lady Whistledown from Eloise for so long. Penelope is such a good secret keeper if her bestfriend did not know.” she smiled. 

“Do not pretend as if you are not utterly delighted to have them,” Michael chuckled at her. Trust Francesca to act tough when really, he knew deep down she was probably excited. 

"You are right. I do adore Colin but only because he married Penelope,” she joked. “Then we better get on to what I've been planning before they come."Frannie said with a glint of wickedness in her eyes.

To: 

Mrs. Colin & Penelope Bridgerton,

Kilmartin Estate, Scotland
April xx, 1824

Dear Mrs. Colin & Penelope Bridgerton,

Welcome to the Kilmartin Estate

Your home away from home.

Your favorite married couple,

Lord & Lady Kilmartin

Michael & Francesca Sterling