Chapter Text
Penelope Featherington considered herself a very festive person. She loved holiday decorations and holiday baking and finding just the right Christmas gifts to suit the important people in her life. The lead up to the holidays was her favourite time of year. But when it came to Christmas Day, she grew less enthused with each passing year. After all, Christmases with her mother and sisters had been upsetting enough before her sisters got married and engaged. Now on top of being a perpetual punching bag, Penelope also had the luxury of becoming the recipient of a special brand of loneliness that only the holidays could fully capture.
The one shred of anticipation Penelope had for her Christmas holiday was the carpool to her sister’s new house.
In an effort to diminish the amount of time spent with her family on Christmas, Penelope had agreed to work on Christmas Eve. She planned to make her way to her sister Philippa’s new home after wrapping up for the day. She would still make it for the traditional fireside snacks and sing-a-long, but would hopefully arrive when everyone was well into their drinks and at their jolliest. Past the point of lecturing Penelope about her life choices.
When Violet Bridgerton, the mother of her best friends, had heard about her plans while Penelope was visiting her daughter Eloise, she had instantly suggested reaching out to Colin to carpool out of the city together.
“After all, he’s getting in from Canada around that time. It seems more efficient for you two to carpool together.”
“Better for the environment,” Eloise added, eyes dancing with mirth as she shared a smirk with her mother.
“And the two of you could keep each other company. I hate to think of you driving all alone on Christmas Eve.”
“I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about,” Eloise smiled.
“I – I suppose,” Penelope agreed. “I haven’t seen him in forever and there’s only so much of his stories he can send in a text or share in a phone call.”
Violet and Eloise shared a knowing look.
“But I wouldn’t want to inconvenience him,” Penelope fidgeted with her hands. “I can just get a taxi.”
“Nonsense,” Violet frowned, “I’ll message him for you right now.”
And so, it was all set-in place. Penelope would be carpooling on Christmas Eve with the man she had been in love with for as long as she could remember. For all the additional heartache this was sure to cause her, Penelope couldn’t help the giddy feeling that accompanied it.
She practically skipped out of the office the second she finished work, lugging her overnight bag and gifts for her family over her shoulder like a small beardless Santa Claus. Colin, who had been waiting in a parked rental car on the street, eagerly exited the vehicle at the first sight of her bright red hair in the rearview mirror and, bristling in the cold air as snowflakes descended on them, swept Penelope into his arms, spinning her in a circle.
“Happy Christmas!” he cheered as the street filled with her giggles. Penelope clutched to him tightly. Slipping slightly when he released her back onto the slushy street, she gripped his steady arms to find her balance.
“Happy Christmas, Colin!” she grinned brightly. “How was your flight?”
“Nine and a half hour flight on Christmas Eve? Miserable, thanks for asking,” he laughed, grabbing her bags and tossing them in the boot of the car. Before he could close it, Penelope reached in and snagged two tins from her stack of gifts.
“Sorry, to hear that,” Penelope patted him on the back. “I’d love to hear all about it though. Hopefully things turn around for you.”
Colin smiled and pulled her in for one more hug before they set off. “They already are.”
“What are those by the way?” he asked as they climbed into their respective seats.
“Well this,” Penelope held up a blue tin covered with snowflakes both patterned and real, “Is a tin of holiday treats that I baked for your family.” Colin grinned and went to open the tin immediately, only to have his hand swatted aside by Penelope. She placed the tin safely at her feet. Eyeing Colin playfully, she offered him a larger green tin decorated with scattered yellow stars. “This…is the tin of holiday treats I baked just for you.”
“Just for me,” Colin repeated, eyes lighting up as he lifted the lid. He stared with a look of both hunger and indecision before plucking out a biscuit.
“Just for you,” she confirmed. “After all you’re one of my best friends and I owe you for driving me today.”
“It’s really no trouble,” Colin assured her in between savoured bites of the biscuit, “I’m happy to do it. But I’m not about to turn down treats from my favourite baker.”
“I know how much you like them,” Penelope smiled. “I’ve gotten enough complaints over the years from your family about how they never get a chance to try them with you around.”
“And it’s not likely they’ll get to this year.”
“Colin! You’ve got your own!”
“Yes, but I can save mine for later,” he smirked.
With Christmas music blaring on the radio, the two set out to leave the city only to find themselves inching along on their journey in the holiday traffic. Neither of them particularly minded prolonging their journey as both Colin and Penelope were so easily swept into their familiar back and forth, sharing stories and hopes and life updates. It was only when the sun went down and the snow picked up as they exited the city that they began to get concerned. Gradually the conversation faded as Colin kept his focus trained on the road and Penelope took on the task of listening to the radio and searching online for updates on traffic accidents. Still they couldn’t help but draw comfort in the mere presence of one another.
The blizzard raged around them, making it perilously difficult for Colin to make out anything against the flurry of white before him.
“I’ve never seen snow this bad,” Colin said through gritted teeth.
“Weren’t you just in Canada?” Penelope smiled softly.
“Vancouver,” he shrugged, “Mildest winter in Canada. They get the odd flurry or two in a winter but while I was there it was mostly rain.”
In an effort to keep their minds off of the danger that lay in the roads before them, Colin told her all about his trip. How in the midst of one day you could be up in the mountains snowboarding in the morning, have lunch downtown, and then head to the beach to watch the sunset.
“You’d love Capilano Suspension Bridge, Pen. They light up the whole canyon with Christmas lights this time of year – shit!”
The car skidded out, tires losing traction on the snow and Colin struggled to keep the car under control. Scrambling with the steering wheel, he managed to right the car and guide them back into the tire tracks in front of them. Heart hammering, Penelope looked over at Colin. His rapid breathing had his chest heaving and his face was deathly pale with shock. He reached blindly for her, eyes still deadlocked on the road, not willing to so much as blink.
“Hey–hey, it’s okay,” Penelope scrambled to take his hand, clutching it to her chest. “We’re okay. Relax Colin.”
He took a deep shaky breath.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked quietly.
“I’m perfectly fine. You handled that perfectly.”
“If I’d handled it perfectly I never would have lost control.”
“Colin,” Penelope admonished. “It happens. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“I know it happens,” he reclaimed his hand to press it against his forehead in frustration. “I just don’t want it to happen with you in the car.”
Penelope silently watched the frustration as it moved through the different aspects of his face. From his wide worried eyes to his tightly drawn lips and the tension she could see in his brow.
“I just–” he began, “I always want you to feel safe with me, Pen. I told everyone I would get you to Philippa’s safely.”
“You will,” Penelope assured him quietly.
Colin tugged at his toque. Her reassurance seemed to go in one ear and out the other.
“I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t be driving. If it was possible to pull over I’d get out and let you drive.”
“Colin,” Penelope tried again. “You’re doing great.”
“Let’s drive around with precious cargo in a white out while severely jet lagged,” Colin’s mumbled reproaches ate at Penelope.
“Stop it,” she commanded. “Colin, you’re doing great. We’re almost there and I feel perfectly safe with you.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have come home for Christmas this year,” Colin muttered. He peered anxiously through the snowflakes, trying to make out the lanes on the road.
“You – you didn’t want to go to Aubrey for Christmas?” Penelope asked gently.
“Not really,” Colin sighed. “I’m not even sure I like Christmas anymore, to be honest,” Colin admitted, adjusting his white knuckled grip on the steering wheel.
“Really?” Penelope asked.
“Yeah, sorry to be a Scrooge.”
“It’s alright. I just didn’t expect it. You always seem to be so cheery.”
“I try. But I’m bottling up that energy for the rest of the night. Sorry, that’s not fair to you, Pen.”
“Don’t be silly. You don’t have to put on a façade for me Colin. I’m just surprised. I can’t imagine anything more appealing than spending Christmas with your family.”
“Well you’ll be with your mum and sisters soon. So, I’m sure you’ll have a great time.”
“Not my family Colin,” she laughed. “Your family. Christmas with the Bridgertons sounds like a dream.”
Colin sighed. “It can be. But it hasn’t felt like it the last few years.”
“Why? Your family is so lovely and they miss you when you’re away. If they were like my family I would understand, but –”
“Don’t get me wrong, Pen. I love my family. Even when they drive me crazy I know how grateful I am to have them. But at Christmas – I don’t know…it’s all a little overwhelming. They expect that I come home. Then no one ever wants to listen to what I have to say. They nag me about when I plan to settle down. Get a steady career. A house. A girlfriend. Oh god – I’m really not prepared for the interrogation about my romantic life. It was bad enough last year, but now that even Eloise has a partner coming to Aubrey it’s going to be relentless.”
“Hyacinth and Gregory are still single,” Penelope tried to reassure him.
“Yes, but the second that I point that out I’ll be hit with the reminder that I’m at least a decade older than them.”
Penelope laughed, “It’s not as though it’s a race.”
“Would you mind telling them that? Hyacinth was trying to take bets on who would be the last sibling to bring someone home for Christmas but no one would take it because they all agreed it was me.”
“I totally understand where you’re coming from,” she smiled sympathetically. He glanced over at her and in that brief glimpse they shared an understanding with one another.
“If you’re Scrooge then I’m the Grinch,” Penelope smiled. “I love the holidays in theory, but I’ve been dreading Christmas with my family all month. Every year, without fail, I somehow find myself to blame for ruining Christmas.”
“What do the Whos down in Whoville do to earn your ire?” Colin smirked.
“Nothing,” Penelope rolled her eyes.
“You expect me to believe that you – delightful, cheerful, patient, Penelope Featherington – routinely ruin Christmas with no provocation?”
“Oh, there’s provocation. But there’s provocation year-round and I manage to bite my tongue. Something about Christmas gives me unrealistic expectations that my family will change overnight and suddenly become the picture-perfect families you see in all the Christmas films. Like your family,” she sighed, “So you see it’s my fault. I expect too much of Christmas and too much of my family.”
“Any pointers on how to ruin Christmas?”
“Well, being single is a great start. It allows you to snap at all the unsolicited interrogations and advice.”
“Check.” Colin smirked.
“And after a few of those short-tempered remarks, be sure to eat your feelings. This is sure to bring more pleasant tidings about your selfishness, your health, and your appearance. In turn, you can progress your snappy remarks into full out bickering.”
“Check,” Colin nodded. “This is all very relatable.”
“And then, once you’ve picked a fight with every member of your family, suffered through your sisters’ singing, and cringed when your sisters’ and their partners make too much use out of the excessive amount mistletoe your mother insists on putting up every year, then you can ruin the evening by causing a scene and storming off to your room to do what you do best. Hide for the rest of the night and overthink all your life decisions.”
“Hmm…that’s the part I’ve been missing. Care to share any recommendations for causing a scene.”
“Spilling drinks works wonders,” Penelope bit her lip bitterly. “Although my best work was the time I accidentally toppled the tree over.”
Colin laughed at the image of tiny Penelope toppling a tree and felt Penelope relax next to him in response.
“No one was hurt, I hope,” Colin grinned.
“No,” Penelope confirmed, “Well, not physically anyway. There was a lot of hurt pride and feelings though.”
The two continued to come up with new and innovative schemes to ruin Christmas until Colin pulled up in front of a line of row houses where Philippa lived with her husband Albion.
Penelope released a heavy sigh.
“Are you sure we can’t circle the block again?”
Colin raised an eyebrow, “Not in this weather.”
“Shame,” Penelope said regretfully unbuckling her seatbelt. “I was rather enjoying myself.”
Colin smiled sheepishly and rubbed anxiously at the back of his neck. “Do you think it would be alright with your family if I came in to warm up for a bit before heading to Aubrey?”
“I don’t know how they’ll feel,” Penelope smiled fondly, “But I have to insist on it.”
Colin grinned back.
“I can’t very well let you freeze,” she reasoned, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Your mother would be so disappointed in me. I can’t have that. I can only handle one mother being disappointed at me this Christmas.”
Colin frowned and followed Penelope’s lead as she exited the vehicle and retrieved her belongings from the boot. He insisted on taking the hefty bag from her to carry it inside and the two approached the doorstep careful to avoid slipping on the ice.
Colin knocked using the intricately carved knocker and Penelope took a deep breath as if gathering the strength to enter. Colin thought he heard Portia Featherington call to Penelope’s younger sister Felicity to grab the door but, before she could, Penelope pushed the front door open. Smiling at her younger sister, Penelope barged into the house with Colin in tow.
“I’m here,” she called to the rest of the family, drawing them into the room as Colin and Penelope rid themselves of their boots and jackets.
“Took you long enough!” Prudence called.
“Sorry,” Colin rubbed the back of his neck. “The road conditions were a nightmare.”
The Featheringtons – for the first time in Colin’s recollection – drew silent. It was as though they hadn’t noticed him until he spoke and now all eyes were on him as if he were the wise men arriving in Bethlehem with gifts.
“Penelope,” Portia chided, “You didn’t tell us you were bringing anyone.”
“Let alone Colin Bridgerton,” added a wide-eyed Philippa.
Colin glanced down at Penelope, who was frowning.
“I told you Colin was giving me a lift.”
“I do recall her saying that!” The booming voice of Prudence’s fiancé, Robert Huxley made Colin flinch.
“You should have let Philippa know to be expecting one more,” Portia continued to scold.
“It’s no trouble!” Philippa’s husband Albion grinned. The women ignored him in favour of staring down Penelope and Colin.
“I don’t mean to impose,” Colin smiled sheepishly. “I won’t be staying long. Just long enough to warm up if it’s no trouble. I need to be getting to Aubrey Hall.”
“Of course, it’s no trouble,” Felicity reassured him from the sidelines.
“I’m sure your family will be missing you terribly,” Portia acknowledged, “So kind of you to go to the trouble of driving Penelope out here on Christmas Eve. Of course, you can stay.”
“It’s no trouble,” Colin shrugged, “I was heading this direction and never could turn down an opportunity to catch up with Pen.”
“Yes – well, as Colin said, we’re rather cold. Perhaps we could get some warm drinks and seats by the fire,” she moved to lead him into the living space but froze when her mother called her name.
“Penelope dear,” Portia didn’t sound the least bit regretful, “It looks like you two have found yourselves caught under the mistletoe.”
The cold was no longer a problem as both Colin and Penelope instantly flamed up in embarrassment, scrambling to find that indeed, there was a festive sprig of mistletoe looming overhead above the doorway.
Penelope’s eyes flickered around the room in a panic. “I – we don’t – no…”
“You know the rules,” Philippa’s singsong response was terribly out of tune.
Caring only to put an end to Penelope’s obvious discomfort, Colin made the only decision that seemed natural to him in the moment. Ignoring her family, he swooped down and captured her lips with his own.
Penelope hummed in surprise before sinking into him and letting him tease her.
Keep it light. Keep it playful. Keep it casual. Colin told himself as he tried to stop himself from getting lost in Penelope. He could have just pecked her lips once he supposed. That may even have been his initial plan, but plans went out the door and back into the blizzard the second he felt her soft lips against his own. His arms wound round her waist and pulled her body flush against his and his lips coaxed hers unsuccessfully trying to get her to reciprocate.
Whether it was out of shock, the knowledge that her entire family was watching, or disbelief that the man she loved was kissing her, Penelope was completely and utterly incapable of moving. Only her hands seemed immune from the paralysis and they clutched tightly at Colin’s arms in an effort to keep herself upright. The onslaught of emotions coursing through her was too much and it was all she could do to keep herself from moaning desperately against Colin’s persistent lips as they worked some kind of inexplicable Christmas miracle against her own.
When he pulled away, neither Penelope nor Colin had any clue just how long they had been kissing. It felt both too long given the audience they had, as if they had been frozen in time, and not nearly as long as either of them wanted.
Prudence gave them some idea though.
“That was so much longer than when you kissed me earlier!” she complained to her husband.
“Hotter too,” Felicity snickered under her breath, causing Colin’s ears to burn.
Pulling back, Colin smiled down at Penelope. “You could’ve kissed me back, you know? A kiss is for two people, Pen. After all, we’re both under the mistletoe.”
But Penelope was too busy grappling with the reality of her first kiss with the man she had always been in love with happening casually in front of her entire family. She was frozen and it had nothing to do with the blizzard outside.
“Thank you,” she eventually managed to reply. Colin’s lips drew into a tight line and he stepped away with a tight nod.
“Excellent,” Portia Featherington’s smirk was haunting, as she grinned down at the pair. “Now let’s see what we can do about finding you two those drinks.”
Colin followed Penelope into a living room full of the most garish, ostentatious Christmas decorations he had ever seen. He wasn’t sure if he had ever given his mother enough credit for her carefully cultivated Christmas decorations, but if he ever reached Aubrey Hall that was going to be the first thing he mentioned. Right now, Aubrey Hall would be decked in snow white and ice blue dressings with select touches of the traditional red, green, silver, and gold. Sure, they had their familial quirks. They all got a kick out of each Bridgerton sibling being connected with one of Santa’s reindeer for instance (with Violet filling the coveted role of Rudolph) so there was perhaps an excess of reindeer in their decor. Well to be fair, Anthony didn’t enjoy the reindeer nicknames – but that was part of the appeal for everyone else. His mother and Daphne delighted in decorating for the holidays and Colin had always taken for granted that he would come home from travelling to a cozy, festive, picture perfect Bridgerton Christmas.
The Featheringtons, on the other hand, seemed to have opted to scrap any traditional Christmas palette for an array of neon décor and anything that glittered. The room was filled with enough tinsel to clog the Thames and could single handedly be responsible for eradicating an endangered species when they threw it out after the holidays. At the heart of it all was a neon pink tree that stood in the corner of the room surrounded by an exorbitant amount of presents. The branches appeared to be made of feathers and it was adorned with a variety of glitzy ornaments. He could pick out bright butterflies, a flock of ducks, and a wide variety of glittering floral ornaments. At the top of the tree stood an angel that bore such a striking resemblance to Portia Featherington that Colin had to assume the woman had had it custom made in her likeness. He could feel Penelope’s embarrassed gaze on him as he took in the room and shot her a sheepish smile that he hoped would reassure her that her family’s Christmas décor was equal parts eccentric and endearing. And it was. Colin knew Daphne would cringe at the sight of it but to him it was playful and inviting in spite of its quirks.
At Philippa’s insistence, Colin took a seat in the yellow velvet armchair by the fireside to warm up. The Featheringtons settled into their own seats around the room and to Colin’s delight brought out trays of refreshments with a wide variety of Christmas treats. Picking out a plateful of tarts and biscuits that he knew to be Penelope’s specialty, Colin happily munched away as his body warmed in the cozy heat of the fireplace.
When Portia returned with a trayful of drinks, she frowned and sighed, “Penelope, dear you’re taking up too much space on the couch. Do make room for Philippa and Albion. It is their house after all.”
Penelope frowned and, with no room to slide further down the couch, stood with the intention of finding a seat on the ground. But, when she made to pass by his armchair, Colin slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her down onto his lap.
“Problem solved,” he said smugly, delighting in the blush that rose in Penelope’s cheeks.
“Colin,” Penelope sighed as he offered her a biscuit from his plate, “I can sit on the ground. It’s really no trouble.”
“Not likely,” Colin rolled his eyes, “Besides, I won’t be here long. Then you can have this chair.”
Penelope tensed and glanced hesitantly at the window as she nibbled on a gingerbread snowman.
“What?” Colin asked, bouncing her lightly on his knee to recapture her focus.
“Nothing,” Penelope muttered. “It’s just still coming down so hard out there. I hate to think of you driving alone in that weather.”
“It really is,” Albion interrupted to agree.
“I’ve never seen this much snow in my life,” Robert’s voice boomed throughout the room.
While they warmed by the fireside, Philippa and Prudence insisted on Christmas karaoke – a Featherington family tradition. They seemed delighted to have a new captive audience, and Colin found himself holding back a grimace as they directed a rendition of Santa Baby primarily towards him. The one saving grace was Felicity’s perfectly adequate piano backing of the renditions. Colin couldn’t be sure whether the younger sister was actually good or if it was merely in comparison to her older sisters. When opportune moments presented themselves, he and Penelope delighted in whispering snide comments to one another and holding back giggles at the expense of her sisters. It might not have been entirely polite, but Colin had heard enough of Philippa and Prudence’s belittlement of Penelope over the years that he felt no guilt in providing Penelope an outlet for some cheeky taunting of her sisters.
With the whole family gathered around the fire, Colin eyed all the Featherington women’s matching pink Santa dresses. Each one wore a pink Santa-esque dress, cuffed with white tinsel and belted with a thick black belt. He turned to Penelope between songs.
“I feel like you’re missing something,” Colin smirked, tugging playfully on her knit sweater. “Do you need to go change?”
“Oh, this little old thing,” Penelope blushed, looking down at her ugly green Christmas jumper. It was patterned with white snowflakes and prancing reindeer. “I’m the black sheep of the family. Don’t want to conform. Want to express my individuality. Always been a rebel – you know?”
“They didn’t have it in her size,” Prudence rolled her eyes.
“Prudence!” Felicity squawked at her oldest sister.
“That too,” Penelope admitted quietly, taking a long sip of her drink.
She looked like she wanted to sink into the floor until Colin leaned over and whispered in her ear, “Lucky you.”
Her fond smile in return warmed him more than the fire and suddenly Colin became very aware of the way her body was curled snuggly against his in the chair. Too aware.
Worried she too would soon be aware, Colin cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably.
“I should really be going,” he said, putting his plate on the end table. He couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes but saw her frown in his periphery and glance out the window.
“Now?” she asked.
He nodded and she stood as he moved to get up.
“It still looks dreadful out, Colin. It could be dangerous.”
He shrugged. “We made it this far. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
“It’s really no trouble if you want to stay!” Philippa squawked a little too enthusiastically for his liking.
“With weather like this,” Albion nodded, “I’m tempted to insist that you do!”
Colin didn’t know if Albion Finch had ever insisted on anything in his life. He seemed more like the type to go along with whatever he was told. The man was pleasant enough and seemed to be enjoying having another man in the house to balance out the decidedly feminine Featherington family. Not that Albion was overly masculine himself. But Colin had noticed the shared look between Albion and Robert every once and a while when the women seemed to forget their presence entirely.
“I do believe we have just the song for this situation!” Prudence clapped.
Smirking as Felicity started up on the piano, Colin shook his head, “I really can’t stay.”
“Baby it’s cold outside!” All the Featheringtons responded, including to his surprise Penelope, who he had yet to hear sing.
Colin replied with a sheepish smirk, “I’ve got to get to Aubrey.”
Penelope met his gaze and sang quietly, “Colin it’s cold outside.”
He nodded and shrugged, “This evening has been–”
Portia interrupted, “We’d been hoping that you’d drop in.”
“So very nice,” Colin finished.
Penelope grabbed his hands.
“Colin, your hands are cold as ice.” She fretted.
Colin glanced down at their intertwined hands and felt the first crack in his resolve.
“My mother will start to worry,” he muttered.
“Beautiful, what’s your hurry?” Prudence winked at him and Colin returned to his senses. He had to get out of here.
He smiled sadly at Penelope before dropping her hands. “Anthony will be pacing the floor.”
Just listen to that fireplace roar,” Philippa remarked dreamily.
Breaking their shared gaze, Colin and Penelope looked at her sister who appeared to be perfectly jolly watching the log crackling on the fire. Shaking his head, Colin donned his toque and started for the entrance.
Singing, he continued the song, “Now really I’d better scurry.”
“Sweetheart, what’s your hurry,” Portia remarked, cutting him off and handing him a mug. Colin shot Portia a sheepish smile.
“Well maybe just a half a drink more.”
With a sense of victory in her eyes, Portia called to her daughter, “Philippa put some records on while I pour.”
She poured drinks for her daughters and son-in-laws.
Colin grinned down at Penelope.
At a volume for her alone, he continued the song, “The neighbours will think–”
Penelope’s expression was more serious than he had anticipated.
“But Colin, it is bad out there.”
Colin nodded. Taking a sip of what he expected to be tea. Grimacing when it burned in his throat he turned to Portia.
“Say what’s in this drink?”
Portia beamed wickedly. “It’s apple cider. The Featheringtons love a good boozy apple cider.”
Philippa giggled, “I’ve had quite a few already.”
Colin grimaced, “Lovely, but as I’m driving – I probably shouldn’t.”
Prudence rolled her eyes, “You could always get a cab.”
Penelope frowned and looked out the window.
“No cabs to be had out there.”
She went to take the mug from Colin but he shook his head and politely took another sip of the drink.
Smiling at her, he thought, “I wish I knew how to break this spell.”
Penelope’s own thoughts were consumed by how Colin’s eyes looked like starlight with all the festive lights reflecting in them.
Philippa broke the spell for both of them, plucking the toque off Colin’s head.
“I’ll take your hat.”
Colin and Penelope chuckled at the drunken antics. Colin ran a hand through his hair attempting to fix what he was sure was a staticky mess. He looked to Penelope for approval.
“Your hair looks swell,” she reassured him, but reached up and ran a hand through it anyway. Colin’s resolve faltered a little more at the feel of her hand in his hair.
“I ought to say no, no, no,” he mumbled.
Colin put down his mug and stepped back, just steps from the door now.
“Penelope, move in closer,” Portia nudged past her daughter, effectively pushing her to Colin’s side again.
Colin sighed uncertain whether he would actually be able to resist the temptation to stay with Penelope. After all, what was the sense in hurting the Featheringtons pride when they were being so welcoming.
“I really can’t stay,” he sighed, knowing it didn’t come out anywhere near as determined as he meant it to.
“But Colin,” Penelope’s eyes were glimmering playfully now, “it’s cold outside.”
He shook his head but his grin betrayed him.
“I simply must go.”
“Baby it’s cold outside,” Philippa sang dreadfully.
Colin ignored her, focused instead on the silent plea in Penelope’s eyes. They were playful but he could see the genuine concern about him driving in the storm behind them.
“The answer is no,” he smirked.
“But Colin, it’s cold out there,” Penelope took his arm gently.
Colin turned to the rest of the Featheringtons, “Thank you all. This welcome has been so nice and warm.”
Portia nodded haughtily, “We’re just so lucky you dropped in.”
“Colin,” Penelope insisted, “Look out the window at the storm.”
It was raging, Colin couldn’t deny that.
He chuckled to try and lighten her spirits. “Daphne will be suspicious if I don’t show,” he teased, raising an eyebrow at Penelope.
“Gosh his lips look delicious,” he heard Prudence telling her other two sisters. She never had developed the knack for whispering. Maybe he did have to get out of here.
“Benedict will be there at the door,” Penelope blushed, trying to distract him from her sisters as Philippa sighed something about “waves on a tropical shore.”
Colin smirked, “And Eloise’s mind is vicious.”
Penelope worried her lip and Colin found his gaze lingering on it. She had tasted delicious before, but now he wondered if he would taste the cider on her lips. Colin glanced up and smirked before locking eyes with Penelope again. Her eyes drifted slowly above him to the mistletoe. With the slightest of nods in consent from her, Colin leaned down so his lips were just a few tantalizing centimeters from hers.
“Well maybe just one little kiss more,” he whispered.
That was all Penelope needed. In a heartbeat her lips were back on his and this time she was leading. Her lips moved desperately against his and he could feel every one of her emotions as though it was one of his own. Her desperation for his company, her worry about his safety in this storm, her loneliness at the thought of being left alone with her family. It was a quick kiss but it spoke volumes.
Albion’s voice cut through the fog of the kiss, “I’ve never seen such a blizzard before.”
Colin pulled away reluctantly. “Oh,” he groaned, “I’ve got to go home.”
“Colin, you’ll freeze to the bone out there,” Penelope’s worried eyes tugged at his heart as her anxious hands tugged at his sleeve.
“Philippa, can you lend me a comb,” Prudence asked as she detangled a knot in her hair no longer showing interest in her younger sister’s mistletoe mischief.
“It’s up to your knees out there,” Penelope protested.
“Your knees,” Colin grinned and pulled on his boots, “My knees are quite a bit higher.” He took her hand, squeezing it lightly. “You’ve all been grand.”
Penelope felt a thrill go through her at the touch of her hand.
“Colin, don’t you see?” Penelope’s eyes were pleading.
How was she managing to make him consider spending Christmas Eve with the entire Featherington family?
“There’s bound to be talk tomorrow,” his voice was low, just for Pen. “My family will never let me hear the end of this.”
Penelope huffed, “Think of our lifelong sorrow–”
Colin continued, “Well, at least there will be plenty implied.”
“If you catch pneumonia and die,” she whimpered.
Colin’s eyes met hers sympathetically.
“I really can’t stay,” he said weakly.
“Get over that old out,” Penelope swatted at him playfully, sensing her victory. “Colin, it’s cold outside.”
He pulled her into a hug.
“Okay,” he whispered into her hair, “Let me get my bag from the car and I’ll stay the night.”
He took one more glance at her as he walked out the door and felt his heart soar at the smug little smile of victory that adorned her face.