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Prologue
It was a regular, exceedingly unremarkable Friday afternoon in the Featherington drawing room. There was some light pittering of summer rain against the windows, a half-eaten plate of lavender vanilla scones on a table, and a bit of gossip flitting throughout the room.
“Apparently,” Prudence said, conspiratorily leaning in towards her mother, “they were caught kissing in the gardens!”
“Before a proposal had been secured?” Portia asked, the eagerness in her voice betraying the scandalized look she’d donned. “My word, that is disastrous.”
Prudence tittered, still too new to society to even feign decorum when it came to such scandals. “Apparently, Lady Jersey caught them together, and the news spread through the entire ball.”
“I cannot believe it- getting caught out in the gardens before a proposal,” Portia tutted, shaking her head before looking towards her older daughters. “I expect you girls to be smarter.”
Philipa’s eyes widened in fear at the mere implication, “I can’t even imagine it. How can a lady be so improper, Mama?”
Portia answered, but Penelope, who had been pretending to read through a book as she listened, was suddenly distracted by a light tapping on her knee. She looked over her book towards the floor, where her younger sister was looking up at her. “Yes, Felicity?” she asked in a whisper.
With a frown, the littlest Featherington whispered back, “What is kissing? And why can ladies not do it in a garden?”
Penelope had to bite down both a blush and a laugh. At the tender age of fourteen, there was rather little that she knew about that activity and what the rules concerning it were. Their father had passed recently, but even before then, she wasn’t sure if she had ever seen her parents exchange in that sort of affection. The most kissing she had ever seen was at wedding ceremonies, which were usually rather tasteful and chaste.
She knew that kissing generally involved two people and that there was contact between one party’s lips and another’s... something else (hands, cheeks, or lips- she was only fourteen, for goodness sake). She also knew that she had always been told that it was a lady’s prerogative never to get mixed up in such things.
But as she looked down at her younger sister, Penelope honestly had no idea what to say.
Absolving her of an answer, however, their mother’s voice rang out. “Girls? What are you whispering about?”
Just as Penelope was about to say, Nothing, Felicity boldly asked, “Why cannot ladies kiss?”
Portia blinked several times in surprise before letting out an impatient sigh, examining her youngest as if she was wondering why she had ever let the governess have the entire afternoon off. “Felicity, a proper young lady cannot kiss before marriage. It will ruin her entire reputation, thus ruining any chance she has of making a good match.”
Felicity nodded as she took in her mother’s answer, looking as though she wanted to ask more. But by the warning look on Portia’s face, she simply pressed her lips together.
Penelope, on the other hand, had a rather uncharacteristic moment of impulsivity and asked, “And what of gentlemen? Are they to kiss before marriage?”
Her mother looked anxious for a moment as she considered her answer, feeling the four pairs of eyes focused directly on her. With some hesitation, she slowly nodded her head, “Yes, they are allowed.” And then, quickly, she added, “But I don’t want to hear any more questions on the matter.”
There were a few beats of silence as the girls registered her words, no one willing to go against their mother’s wishes. Soon enough, they each returned to their activities. Portia went on gossiping with Prudence and Philipa, Felicity became preoccupied with the small kitten in her lap, and Penelope turned back to the book still open in her hands.
And all the while she pretended to read, one question kept repeating itself in her mind.
If a lady is not to be kissed before marriage, then what of the poor spinsters of the world?
The first
If one were to be absolutely honest, Penelope’s first season out in society was... well, if one had to put it into words, rather unfortunate.
Well, perhaps more accurately, it was exceptionally horrendous.
Her complexion was dreadful (and seemingly worsening every day with the added stress of worrying about whether people were noticing it), her mother’s styling choices were, as some kindhearted girls had put it, “torture for anyone with eyes”, her already garish dresses were designed for a woman’s frame, thus fitting her awkwardly everywhere, and…
And she had fallen hopelessly in love. With a man who was far too young and far too eligible to ever marry her.
Still, he was the man she loved. The one who, after falling off of his horse by way of her fault, had simply laughed it off and given her that wonderful smile of his. The one who-
“Miss Featherington,” Penelope heard someone say, not having realized how long her gaze had been resting on the dancefloor. Her breath caught as soon as she turned.
“Lady Bridgerton,” she greeted, instantly feeling herself color at the feebleness of her voice as she curtsied. She had spoken to Violet Bridgerton at a few various events since the beginning of the season, sometimes with her mother and sometimes without, and she knew that the viscountess was hardly someone who warranted her fear.
But Lady Bridgerton was not alone. And Penelope felt as though she could barely breathe.
“This is one of my sons, Colin,” she gestured to the gorgeous man in question. With a smile, she turned to him. “Colin, this is Miss Penelope Featherington.”
Penelope bowed her head and attempted a smile- though she was quite sure that it looked more like a pained grimace. We’ve met, she wanted to say. They had actually met one year and roughly twenty-three days prior. Not that she was counting, of course.
“We’ve met,” Colin said, surprising both women. He gave her a warm smile- that same smile- along with an easygoing shrug. “It’s not every day that a bonnet knocks me off of my horse.”
Lady Bridgerton stared at him for several moments before looking at Penelope curiously, faint recognition crossing over her face. “I almost forgot that,” she murmured, and the young woman felt her heart sink. This would likely be the end of it- the end of the kindness the viscountess had bestowed upon her. Now that she was aware that Penelope was the mindless, foolish girl who had almost caused her son serious harm, she likely-
But Lady Bridgerton just smiled, a smile that was different from her son’s in form but held the same warmth and spirit. It was one that seemed to be able to put anyone at ease. “My other children had a wonderful time with that story, my dear.”
Penelope blinked a few times in surprise, but Lady Bridgerton was already looking elsewhere in the ballroom. She then turned back and smiled again, “If you would excuse me. I think Daphne needs my attention.”
“I’m sure she does,” Colin said, a hint of amusement in his voice as he watched his mother go.
Penelope’s lips formed an O shape as she nodded, but she wasn’t able to actually manage any words. There was some disappointment tugging in her as Lady Bridgerton walked away. She knew that her other companion would make his own swift exit soon enough, knew that he too would find some excuse to leave- for that was what most of the other bachelors she had encountered did when left alone with her.
Instead, however, he surprised her.
“Would you honor me with your next dance?”
“W-what?”
She hadn’t meant to say it, immediately feeling herself blush crimson. Clearing her throat, she felt the dampness of her palms in her gloves. She had been asked to dance before, of course, but rarely by anyone as charming as Colin Bridgerton. Correcting herself, she asked, “Excuse me?”
Colin grinned, not in the least disconcerted by her flub- rather, he seemed almost amused. The thought of being amusing made Penelope’s face heat up even more. “Would you care for a dance? I promise that I won’t step on your toes.”
Penelope let out a breathless laugh as her lips turned upwards into her own smile. Though her heart was pounding, there was something about Colin’s smile that put her at ease. “It would be my pleasure, Mister Bridgerton.”
Politely, he signed her rather embarrassingly sparse dance card, making no visible sign of noticing anything amiss. Gallantly, he accompanied her to the dance floor, making small talk and jokes and everything that Penelope never seemed to be able to say aloud.
He told her about his recent trip to Amsterdam, and how he was already planning another one for as soon as he was able. She gave him a timid smile as she followed along, her mind grasping onto every word as if Lady Whistledown hadn’t already meticulously chronicled the entire thing. It was amazing how easy it seemed for Colin- how utterly at ease he was with himself.
Without meaning to, her eyes would occasionally flicker down to his mouth. To the way his lips moved as they talked. She mumbled her own short replies as he spoke, much more interested in what it was he had to say.
And then, she realized with a start that she wanted to kiss him.
She did not know very much about kissing other than through gossip and fairytales, but Penelope did know that she wanted to kiss Colin Bridgerton.
Only she also knew that she never would.
The second
It was just another Monday afternoon in Mayfair- one that was muggy and a bit too cold for one’s liking. Penelope was wearing a bright orange day dress, one that horrendously clashed with her hair and was hardly appropriate for such a dreary day, making her feel rather absurd as she entered Bridgerton House.
She had been joining the Bridgertons for tea on Mondays for about two months- just since Lady Bridgerton had seen a girl purposefully (although poorly acted as if an accident) pour her lemonade down the front of Penelope’s dress. She’d had the strongest desire to cry right then and there, in the middle of the garden party they’d been attending. It was the first time her mother had allowed her to wear a color of her own choosing- a lovely muted shade of pink.
That had been ruined by the large yellow stain down her front.
Lady Bridgerton had been standing nearby and swiftly advised her on what to do. It seemed that the woman had decided that if no one else was going to be kind to the unfortunate wallflower, then at least she would be.
And it really did make a huge difference. Penelope had friends now. Well, a friend. She had Eloise, who was her age but was not yet out in society due to the graciousness of her mother.
Penelope might have been jealous of Eloise, of her lovely features and talkative nature and adoring family, but the girl was too kind and inviting for any ill will to brew. Just as all the Bridgertons seemed to be, Eloise was special. Special and thoughtful and everything a true friend should be.
Penelope sometimes felt like a different person when she was at Bridgerton House. She was still reserved, particularly when the company expanded to more than Eloise or Lady Bridgerton, but she felt more comfortable with herself. She felt as though she was allowed to say what she really thought, and that those around her actually cared about what she did manage to get out.
That afternoon, when Penelope entered the drawing room, she was surprised to find an additional member of their party. Colin greeted her with a grin as he looked up at her before returning his eyes to catch Gregory almost slapping the back of his hand in their game. He pulled it away right before his little brother could win, causing a cry of frustration to be rung out.
Penelope let out a small laugh once she’d given her greetings to the rest of the room. “My sister loves that game,” she accidentally whispered, her voice coming out so soft that most of the room hadn’t heard her.
But Colin had, and he looked up at her again. “Pardon?”
Penelope blushed, feeling the immediate spread of embarrassment wash over her. “O-oh, nothing.”
He laughed slightly, though nothing she had really said was funny. “No, you mentioned something about your sister?”
The rest of the room- Lady Bridgerton, Eloise, Francesca, Hyacinth, Gregory- were all looking at her now, and Penelope felt her entire body tense. But then she looked back at Colin, with his reassuring smile and bright eyes, and felt herself relax a bit. “My younger sister, Felicity, she’s about Hyacinth’s age,” Penelope nodded toward the young girl, whose brow almost conspiratorially quirked up in interest. “She loves that game.”
And although Penelope felt rather stupid for having had to explain the entire thing, Colin just nodded in interest as if she’d said something that actually mattered. “And who normally wins?” He shot her another smile- one that was far too disarming for comfort- before smirking at Gregory and slapping the back of his hand.
Penelope gave her own little smile. “... I like to let her win.”
Gregory immediately threw his brother an accusatory look, “See!”
Colin put his hand on his chest in a false look of betrayal towards Penelope, to which she flashed him an apologetic smile. With a little shrug, she took a seat next to Eloise, who had begun talking about some ducks she had seen at the park.
She felt his presence in the room over the next two hours. Felt him with every laugh and story and nothing at all. It both unnerved her and calmed her, put her on edge, and relaxed her again.
Her breath seemed to be caught somewhere between her throat and her chest as he walked her down the hallway, having offered to call her carriage to take her home. “Did you bring a maid with you? Or shall I ask one of ours to escort you?”
“My maid accompanied me, but thank you,” Penelope said quietly, feeling an uncomfortable swell of endearment at his concern- no matter how generalized. She was about to nod her head and leave when, suddenly, she felt a tiny burst of boldness. “Will you be in town for the Heathcliff ball-” she hesitated for a beat, “- erm, Mister Bridgerton?”
He looked down at her with sparkling, amused emerald eyes. “Indeed, I will, but I think you can call me Colin.”
She didn’t know why it had caught her off-guard. She had technically known Colin for over a year and had been dancing with him at balls (the ones he managed to attend) for months, but it still felt strange. It felt strange to have such familiarity with someone whom she was so- so separate from.
“Penelope,” she said breathily before clearing her throat. “You can call me Penelope, of course. Or Pen- my sisters sometimes call me Pen.”
Why had she said that? Who cared what her sisters called her? She barely knew this man, let alone well enough for him to call her by a nickname.
Colin grinned again and nodded. “Well, my siblings do not call me Col, but you may if you’d like.”
And then Penelope’s heart leaped right out of her chest and ran off into the great unknown because Colin Bridgerton winked at her.
With a final look, she glanced down at his lips and tried to suppress the sigh she so desperately wanted to heave.
The third
“Miss Featherington!”
Penelope, along with her older sisters, turned to see Benedict Bridgerton striding towards them across the hall. There was a flash of panic that crossed his face before he corrected, “Er, Penelope, that is.”
The smile on her lips was immediate. She had no romantic prospects with Benedict, Penelope knew that absolutely well, but it was always touching when he approached her, especially on an evening such as this one. He had his choice of almost anyone in the room, but he was willing to spend fifteen minutes with her, even when she-
Her smile dropped when she saw him turn to the sound of the whispering behind him, stopping dead in his tracks just before he’d reached her. Around him, she could see that some beautiful girl had entered and was already drawing a crowd.
Penelope had to blink harshly as she watched Benedict’s feet take him in the opposite direction.
She felt pathetic, standing there by the lemonade table as her sisters looked onto her with pitying, uncomfortable smiles.
But then a cheerful voice cut through the painful ache in her heart, “Penelope!”
She forced herself to look away from Benedict’s retreating figure, attempting to lift her mouth into an untroubled smile. Her throat seemed to be too dry to speak so she just nodded a greeting.
Colin’s own grin didn’t falter for even a moment. “How lucky I am to have found you; I couldn’t dare leave this party without a dance.”
Penelope blinked up at him, unconvinced. It wasn’t lost on her that he, like almost everyone, had just witnessed the humiliation she’d endured. Had witnessed how quickly she’d lost the interest of his brother, just another forgettable wallflower left behind.
“It’s practically a tradition, is it not?” he asked, trudging ahead as though they were having an actual conversation.
And though in the back of Penelope’s mind, she knew that Colin’s offer was done out of nothing more than something like pity and friendship mixed into one, she felt a surge of gratitude for him. Even if he may not have wanted to dance with her, at least he would come to her rescue.
With a small smile, she nodded graciously, her eyes sending him the thank you she couldn’t put into words. When he took her into hold, she swore she could feel a small, reassuring squeeze of his hand.
“It’s a lovely costume,” Colin said, a hint of teasing in his voice
Penelope looked up at him, seeing the mischievous smile on his lips. It would have been hurtful coming from anyone else, but she just let out a playful scoff. She was dressed in a ridiculous leprechaun costume that her mother had somehow made worse by commissioning sequins to be sewn in. In reality, Penelope should have felt embarrassed by it. She was easily one of the worst dressed people at the party, and she could imagine exactly how absurd she looked dancing with Colin, who looked dapper and sophisticated in his regular evening wear and demi-mask. Instead, however, she felt a bubble of laughter rising within her chest.
She wasn’t embarrassed, even though it was Colin.
Actually, she wasn’t embarrassed because it was Colin.
“I imagine that if you squint your eyes, I resemble something of a large, inverted carrot,” Penelope said plainly, the words somehow flowing straight from her mind to mouth.
She could tell she’d impressed him by the way his eyes sparkled- an appreciation for the wit that was so often buried away. His mouth parted in surprise, and it took everything in Penelope not to stare directly at it.
“Well,” Colin mused, his lips curving upwards, “I happen to like carrots.”
With his words, Penelope suddenly wished that her mother had allowed her to wear a mask to the masquerade. She could feel her face growing hot, could imagine it reddening as she looked at him. They held each other’s gaze for just a moment too long- one that made Penelope forget the rest of the world entirely. She let out a weak laugh, it unfortunately exposing the flip her heart made.
She knew he heard it, could see how Colin's smile almost instantly switched from wicked to polite. The sparkle in is his eyes vanished almost as quickly as it had come.
Penelope felt it too, taking a mental step backward even as her hand held steadily in his. She swallowed, willing the feeling in her chest to disappear. “Have you planned your next tour as of yet?” she quickly asked, making her best attempt to hide away her embarrassment.
This was Colin Bridgerton, she reminded herself, not just Colin.
And men like Colin Bridgerton did not flirt with women like Penelope Featherington.
The fourth
It took months before Penelope could look at Colin again without flinching.
She’d never expected Colin to marry her, of course, she hadn’t. But she’d dreamed of it. That one day he would see her and realize that, yes, she was whom he wanted.
And although she knew that her dream was an impossibility, she never thought that she would have to hear it said aloud.
He’d tried to come by and apologize at some point afterward, but Penelope had feigned illness. She didn’t want his apology, didn’t want to have to face the humiliation again.
So, she avoided him, and he seemed to get the idea to do the same as well.
The next time they saw each other was at a party, where they’d shared one rather uncomfortable, mostly silent dance before parting ways for the rest of the evening. Following that first reunion, they both equally pretended as though the entire incident had never happened, simply going back to how they’d been before.
Except they hadn’t, not really. Penelope no longer joked with Colin, no longer felt that comfort in his presence, and Colin no longer even teetered on the border of flirtation with her, never risking so much as a wayward smile cast her way. What they had gone through was difficult to get past, even for someone as carefree as Colin. He felt the unpleasantness of it just as much as Penelope did, perhaps even more so.
But he was in and out of the country so frequently that it made it all a bit easier for both of them. There was always an easy topic for small talk, with no need to think up anything more for a single polite dance or conversation. It was just how it was between them now, which was absolutely fine.
Until Penelope’s breath caught at the sight of some all-too-familiar chestnut hair.
She’s known that he was back in town- it was impossible not to know with Lady Whistledown reporting his every move. But she hadn’t expected to see him for another few days, at least not until she had tea with Lady Bridgerton the following week.
This was a bookshop. This was her bookshop.
Men had their clubs, and women had their shops. That was how order was meant to be upheld.
He obviously had no such respect for order.
In a rather rash decision, Penelope stooped down behind a low shelf, shielding herself from that side of the shop. She cast her maid a nervous glance, tilting her head for Mary to follow.
Evidently, she was going to be a coward about the situation.
But life rarely awarded cowards, and just before Penelope could escape, a damned voice called out.
“Er, Penelope?”
Perhaps, had he said Miss Featherington, she could have ignored him. Could have pretended to have not heard him and quietly left the store. But he had said Penelope, with that slight hesitant inflection at the end that was so unlike normal, and her body made the same gut reaction that it always did when he was nearby, forcing her to stop.
Slowly, she turned around, planting a smile on her face. “Colin, what a surprise.”
He grinned- though, she noted, it wasn’t really a Colin Bridgerton grin- bowing his head to her and Mary. “Are you out shopping?”
“Yes,” she nodded, and then recalled that she had just been caught attempting to leave completely empty-handed. “Er, just browsing, really,” she amended a bit lamely.
Colin politely ignored her blunder, holding up his own book. “I’m picking something up for Hyacinth. I had a meeting nearby and offered to stop along the way.”
“Oh,” Penelope said, nodding again. She wasn’t quite sure what to say next, so she looked back towards the pile of books she had been milling through earlier. Silently, she allowed her hand to graze over one of the works she had been considering.
Colin took a step towards her, tilting his head to read the title. “Do you frequently read books on astronomy?” he asked, something about his voice (or his closer presence) startling her.
“I do have an interest in it,” she said, taking special consideration in her wording. Truthfully, she was intrigued by the subject, but also truthfully, she rarely had enough time to properly read through the books she purchased.
“I took a course for it at Oxford,” Colin said, causing Penelope to look back up at him with curiosity. “I studied geography, of course, but I really did enjoy astronomy.”
She smiled slightly- charmed by the thought. Colin had graduated before Lady Whistledown had ever appeared on the scene, and Penelope realized that she had never known about his studies, had never even really considered them.
“What about it did you like?” she asked, unable to stop herself from appreciating the thoughtful expression his face had taken.
“Actually, I really admired the mathematics behind it,” he said, pausing at her look of surprise. With just a hint of hesitation, he admitted, “I’ve always been quite good with numbers- I know, no one really ever expects that of me.”
Penelope shook her head immediately, but she was still processing the information.
In all the time that she’d known Colin, in all the articles that Lady Whistledown had written about him, never once had Penelope been made aware of something so ... ordinary about him. A part of him that wasn’t a secret, but somehow felt more intimate than if it was.
“It doesn’t surprise me,” she finally said. And it really didn’t. Penelope might never have considered it outright, but she knew that Colin was intelligent, even in more ways than people generally noticed.
He smiled- a true, genuine smile that was categorically different from the one he had given her before. It was the kind of smile that drew her eyes to it, the kind that made her heart flip and her stomach leap.
She cleared her throat, looking down at the book in hand. “Well then, try and convince me to buy this.”
They both laughed, but ten minutes later, Penelope exited the store carrying both the Physical Astronomy Vol. 2: The Hidden Stars of Our Universe and a lighter heart.
The fifth
When asked what type of parties Penelope preferred, her answer likely would not have been those held in the countryside. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy the outdoors or that she disliked the intimacy of a country house party, she just didn’t find them as appealing as other sorts. They meant being away from home for days at a time, interacting with the same people for every meal and activity, and… They made her other life a bit more difficult.
However, Penelope did always enjoy a trip to Aubrey Hall, because at least there she was surrounded by most of her favorite people in the world.
Kate and Anthony were always fantastic hosts, both in means and in spirit. They seemed to have a way of making each guest feel perfectly comfortable during their stay, almost as if they had just stayed home. There just seemed to be some kind of magic at Aubrey Hall that other estates simply didn’t have.
And perhaps that magic might have been, in part, the person walking towards her.
“Colin,” she laughed, inspecting his appearance, “you’re…”
“Wet,” he affirmed with a grin, “I was outside.”
“Ah, I didn’t realize that it was raining,” Penelope said dryly, nodding as she pointedly looked towards the window. It showed the same clear blue skies that it had all afternoon.
Though he matched her tone, she could see the amusement in Colin’s eyes. “I was actually in the lake.”
She glanced down at his clothes, which were so wet that they were causing a puddle to collect on the floor underneath him. “I see,” she said slowly, looking back up at him. “You must have had a very pleasant swim, then.”
Colin let out a laugh, and the sound made Penelope’s heart tug. She loved making him laugh- loved hearing the sound, and watching his eyes light up, and seeing how his mouth curved into that perfect open grin.
“If you must know, Daphne pushed me into the lake,” he admitted, not even a thread of embarrassment etched within his words.
Penelope smiled, “All by herself?”
Colin shrugged his shoulders a bit, “Anthony helped.”
“Then I take it they both lost,” Penelope said, glancing out the window again in an effort to avoid staring directly at him.
“Yes, actually, Edwina won this year,” he said with half-joking disdain. And then he paused for a moment, causing Penelope to look back toward him. “You know about the Pall-Mall game?”
Penelope blinked in surprise before giving him a small shrug. “I saw you all playing once years ago, and I think I asked Eloise about it.”
He nodded a bit slowly, and Penelope had to force her gaze up to avoid staring into his eyes. Though no longer dripping quite so much, Colin’s hair was sticking up at a few odd angles, giving her the sudden desire to reach up and smoothen it out. She wanted so desperately to do it- could feel the urge of her hand- but it stayed firmly at her side.
“Well, maybe you’ll join us one year,” Colin finally said, and Penelope’s eyes found his smile once again.
She gave a weak laugh, “Maybe.”
Colin bobbed his chin slightly, no doubt knowing as well as she did that the offer was more a polite reflex than anything else. “Well, perhaps we can be on the same team for charades tonight, at least.”
Penelope had to swallow so that her voice didn’t betray the flip her heart made. “That would be great.”
There was a small pause of silence as Penelope looked up at Colin, taking in all those beautiful features he had. In the back of her mind, she wondered about all the things she wished she could say.
Honestly, she wasn’t even sure what she would say if she could, didn’t even know exactly what it was that she wanted. All that she knew was that whatever it was, she’d likely never get it.
So, she just swallowed and cleared her throat. “I promised Felicity that I would get her a scarf.”
Colin immediately nodded his head in agreement, “And I’d best get changed before I miss supper.”
“And before one of the maids sees the mess you’ve left,” Penelope joked, looking down at the brown-tinged puddle he’d left in his wake.
He looked down and then back up at her, and Penelope’s eyes followed his lips as he grinned. “Always so wise, Pen.”
The time she actually did it
It was an irregular, exceedingly remarkable Friday afternoon in the Featherington drawing room.
“Suppose I told everyone that I had seduced you.”
Penelope’s entire body physically stiffened upon the words. Her stomach fell to the floor. Her heart stopped beating. Her mind stopped functioning.
He was looking at her- staring, even, with an intensity that felt like it could burn right through her. It wasn’t a lustful intensity- of course, it wasn’t. He was going off on some tirade about Lady Whistledown and rumors and secrets- but Penelope just didn’t care.
Because all she could think about was Colin Bridgerton seducing her.
“You would be ruined forever,” he continued, shifting to the very edge of the sofa until they were perfectly eye level.
God, it was inhuman to have eyes so green. Mercilessly and excruciatingly inhuman.
He was still talking, still staring directly at her. “It wouldn’t matter if we had never even kissed. That, my dear Penelope, is the power of the word.”
Kissed. Dear. Penelope. Ruined.
Kissed.
Kissed.
She wanted to be kissed by him.
She wanted to be ruined by him.
It was warm. So very, very warm that she almost couldn’t stand it. His gaze bore into her as he waited for some response that Penelope wasn’t sure could ever come.
“I… I don’t know what to say,” she finally said, the words sputtering from her mouth.
She did know what to say though.
She wanted to say, Kiss me. Seduce me. Ruin me, if you’d like.
But her heart felt as though it were leaping out of her chest. And all she could do was keep looking at him, watching as his face changed into something she hadn’t ever seen before. His lips parted slightly, but no words came from them.
He looked- alarmed? Confused? She had no idea- all she could focus on were her own thoughts, her own desires that were desperately trying to set themselves free.
He glanced at her, and she blinked back at him. His eyes widened, ever so slightly, and Penelope could tell that there was something in them. Something that seemed to scare him.
“Colin?” she heard a whisper of her voice say.
His eyes were still on hers, and she swore that she could see-
He bolted out of his seat, and Penelope found herself missing the green so much that it felt as though someone was physically squeezing her heart.
Without thinking, she stood up to meet his gaze again.
He was so handsome- so beautiful in a way that everyone else on the planet simply wasn’t.
Her eyes flickered down as his tongue ran across his lips.
“Colin,” she whispered again, blood pumping in her ears as she looked back up. “Would you do me a favor?”
He was so casual, so sure of himself. It was practically a reflex when he answered, “Of course.”
If Penelope had any control over her muscles, she would have smiled. That was Colin. Potentially about to give her the most paramount gift of her entire life, and he was as agreeable as ever.
Colin was kind. So kind. He would do it for her. Grant her this one wish. Allow her this one single, beautiful moment to carry around for the rest of her life. Something for her dreams, something to help herself to imagine what might have been.
“Would-” Her voice cut out, her body startled by the look on his face. It was so intense and so hard that was it utterly unnerving. Still, she kept going.
“Would you kiss me?” she finally felt the words leave her lips, her entire being bracing itself as she looked up at him.
He was blinking- so much so that Penelope imagined tiny gusts of wind coming from his lashes. And then, a single word.
“What?”
It was the single most humiliating word she could have ever heard.
Worse than any other moment before then.
She turned away from him, desperately hoping that he would miss the shade of red she knew her face had taken. How could she have ever been so stupid? As if Colin Bridgerton would ever want to kiss her. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”
She simply wasn’t that woman. She was a twenty-eight-year-old spinster who had never once been made to feel lovable, or desirable, or even kissable. She was Penelope Featherington, and everyone saw her as that same silly, quiet girl wearing an ugly yellow dress and trying not to look like she was dying to be asked to dance.
Except-
Except, she wasn’t that girl. She hadn’t been that girl for years.
She was something more. Something more than anyone knew, more than Colin knew, more than even she knew.
And she was done waiting to be asked.
She could feel herself breathing heavily as she whirled back to face him. “No,” she said, the single syllable holding more passion than any word she had ever spoken before, “I’m not going to forget it. I’ve spent my life forgetting things, not saying them, never telling anyone what I really want.”
And it was true. She never did what she wanted. Never spoke her mind and just asked.
Colin opened his mouth as if to say something, but seemed to be lost for words. Penelope didn’t care.
She didn’t feel a tinge of embarrassment as she looked up at him, didn’t feel even the slightest bit insecure in her request. This was just something for her. Nothing more. Just something for her at that moment. She didn’t expect anything from it. She just wanted a kiss.
She just wanted to be kissed.
At least, that’s what she told herself.
“It won’t mean a thing. I promise you, it won’t mean anything, and I’d never expect anything from you because of it, but I could die tomorrow, and-”
It was an odd thing to say. So odd, in fact, that it seemed to shock Colin out whatever paralysis he’d been in.
“What?”
Her heart sank. Sank so deeply that she almost considered giving up again. But then she imagined herself, old and alone, with nothing so much as a kiss to think back on.
“I’m eight-and-twenty. I’m an old maid, and I’ve never been kissed.”
She could have never imagined the Penelope of the past ever admitting such a thing aloud. It wasn’t as though it were a secret- anyone who knew her even the slightest bit knew that she had never had a serious suitor. But it still somehow felt like something so personal to say.
Colin was making some sort of noise, but she didn’t care. She wanted this kiss. She wanted this moment. For once, she wanted something for herself, and she was willing to put in the work to get it.
“I’m going to be an old maid at nine-and-twenty, and I’ll be an old maid at thirty.” She was prattling on, but it didn’t matter. She wanted- no, needed for Colin to see why this was so important. Why he couldn’t just allow her to grow old and alone without ever having felt another human’s lips on hers. “I could die tomorrow, and-”
She barely even registered when Colin interrupted her with a sudden, vehement, “You’re not going to die tomorrow!”
“But I could! I could, and it would kill me, because-” She honestly didn’t know what she was saying anymore. She just kept looking between Colin’s eyes and lips, unable to choose.
“You’d already be dead,” he said, sounding calmer than before. Something had changed, she at least knew that.
Penelope took a deep breath, finding it within her last self to plead with him. “I don’t want to die without ever having been kissed.”
Please, Colin.
He opened his mouth, and her entire body prepared itself for what he might say. All she could feel was anticipation. For the refusal. For the excuses.
Please. Grant this one thing.
For the yes.
Please.
But nothing came. Not a single word.
“Please,” she heard herself say, so softly that even she almost missed it.
Just once. That’s all she needed. One single moment in her life that was just hers.
And he was looking at her. He was looking at her in a way that he never had before. In a way that no one ever had before.
As if he was seeing more.
He was gazing at her in a way that was so profound it almost frightened her.
“Colin?”
And then it seemed as though the entire world had turned over on itself, because Colin Bridgerton took a step towards her. And then he touched her chin and tipped her face up, and she felt the contact send a single spark through her entire body, covering every inch of her.
Her senses felt both dulled and heightened- as if she could somehow feel nothing and everything all at the same time. She felt his breath on her nose. She felt the trembling of his fingertips. She felt her heart pounding against the wall of her chest.
She felt every nerve in her body shut off. She felt her lungs freeze.
And then all she felt were his lips on hers.
Penelope had imagined kissing Colin hundreds of times. She had imagined it happening in so many different ways, in so many different places. She had pictured his green eyes, bright as they moved towards her. Had considered how his hands might feel on her back. Had thought about how his muscles might feel around her.
But when it was really and truly happening, she was hardly aware of anything at all.
Her mind wasn’t working. She could barely register whether or not she was breathing, let alone doing anything else.
She felt paralyzed. Paralyzed in a sea of wonder, and tenderness, and everything else that described the thousands of emotions that were bursting through her.
She didn’t notice when his hands had moved to her back. She didn't notice when his lips had moved to nip at the corner of her mouth.
She did, however, notice when he pressed her closer to him. When the lengths of their bodies were pressed so tightly against each other that she could feel every inch of him.
It was ecstasy.
It was agony.
Her stomach prickled. Her knees buckled. Her mind blurred.
And then his tongue was in her mouth, and suddenly it felt like the rest of the world was on fire and Colin was the only way for her to breathe.
Or he was the fire, and slowly he would eat her alive.
She was only vaguely aware of his hands moving, could feel the trails of heat they left behind. Her own rested against his back, frozen in place, unable to even appreciate the warmth of his own body under her fingertips.
And then- was he murmuring her name?
It was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard. Or imagined. She really wasn’t sure what was real and what was fantasy.
There was heat everywhere. Heat she understood and some she didn’t.
She wanted it to keep going forever.
She wanted it to stop immediately.
She had no idea what she wanted.
Finally, however, Colin pulled away, and Penelope could barely make her eyes open to meet his.
The entire world felt fuzzy. The entire world felt like Colin. Colin and Penelope, pressed against each other.
That had been her moment. Her one perfect moment.
His lips were swollen, and the emerald of his eyes was darker than she had ever seen. He almost looked as though he-
He placed his forehead gently against hers. “You can kiss me, too.”
You can kiss me, too.
You can kiss me, too.
What?
“A kiss,” he said before tilting his head to give her another quick kiss. The flip her stomach made was so powerful that she thought he might feel it. “... is for two people.”
What?
Her body instinctively moved- just slightly. As if it was calling out to her to just do it. “What do I do?”
He gave her the smallest hint of a smile. She could barely hear him over the pounding in her ears. “Whatever you want to do.”
Somehow, this was still her moment. He was allowing her the freedom to use it however she wanted.
Her hand twitched, and for the first time in her life, Penelope allowed it to rise.
Her fingers met his cheek, slowly skimming over the skin before meeting his jaw. It was rough and strong and exactly how it was supposed to be. Perfect.
And that was it. Her hand fell away.
“Thank you.”
All she had asked for was a single moment, and that was all she needed.
She was content, happy even.
But, then again, she had no idea of what was to come.