Chapter Text
My Dearest, Penelope. I am sorry that we did not get a chance to speak at Lady Danbury’s ball. Every time I thought I had caught your eye you disappeared. I am unsure if you have received the letters I sent while traveling. I intend on paying a visit to your home tomorrow. Your mother invited me over to thank me for saving your family from Jack. I cannot wait to see you, Pen, and recount all my stories from my time away.
Your, Colin Bridgerton
The audacity of the man.
“My Dearest, Penelope,” he had written. With a comma after dearest, like she belonged to him. The only thing more shocking was “Your Colin Bridgerton” like he belonged to her. They did not belong to each other. He made that clear enough the night of the Featherington Ball. Now he had the audacity to call her his. If she knew what was good for her, she would burn the letter.
But she could not.
Because it was from Colin. So, she opened the secret compartment below her floor and added it to the pile of opened letters spanning from the moment he left for Greece until now over a year and a half later.
Penelope was trying to keep calm. She had her maid dress her in a simple pink day dress and had her hair styled in soft curls. She could not be done up with a million ribbons and a heavy dress. They would just make her feelings of suffocation worse.
Her mama had informed her Colin would be at their home for dinner around 7 pm. That left all day for her anger to build up. She was pacing around the drawing room at half past 12, waiting for a visitor. Who she did not know. Varley only told her that someone was at the front door insisting on seeing Penelope. So, she was shocked to see Colin Bridgerton walk in holding a bouquet of flowers.
He looked handsome. His hair had grown longer and had certainly lightened to a dark brown. He was wearing a brown overcoat that suited his tanned complexion perfectly. Penelope even noticed he was sporting a few rings she had never seen before. If she did not know any better, she would think he was grown up. But boys like Colin never seemed to become men.
“Pen,” he smiled holding the bouquet in front of him with a big grin on his face. Ever the charmer, he was.
“What are you doing here, Mr. Bridgerton? I believe your invitation was for dinner,” Penelope inquired. Colin was not one to be absent-minded and forget the times of things.
“I know but I wanted to see you before then. I know your mother with hold my attention for most of the dinner,” Colin explained still holding out the flowers to her. He was very proud of the arrangement, he had picked it out himself.
“And you brought flowers?” Penelope asked as she grabbed them cautiously. They were red carnations mixed in with tulips.
“Yes, my mother suggested tulips,” he answered as he watched her study them. “Did you get my letters this Summer?”
“Yes,” she stated plainly taking the flowers over to a side table. She was hoping that he would not have asked that, especially so suddenly.
“But you didn’t answer? Did something happen to you?” he asked with a hint of concern. Penelope was always punctual in responding to his letters.
“No, I just did not want to answer your letters. I have nothing to say to you, not after what you said last season,” she answered trying to contain her anger. The thoughts of his words had festered in her for far too long. Her anger was getting the best of her.
“What did I say?” he questioned now, fully puzzled. Penelope looked angered. He was positive he had never seen anger cross her face.
“That you would never court me in your wildest dreams. You ruined any meager prospects I had of getting a husband,” Penelope gritted out, pulling her hands into fists at her sides.
“Penelope, I needed the men to go to Mondrich’s with me. He warned me about Jack, first. I needed to pay him back. Saying that about you was a sacrifice I was willing to make at that moment. But I promise to make it up to you. Please let me make it up to you,” Colin mustered out trying to justify himself.
“A sacrifice?” Penelope yelled as her voice echoed around the room. “Colin, you have never even met sacrifice. I have sacrificed my family and Marina’s reputation for you. I sacrificed my relationship with Eloise to save her from the Queen. No, Colin, you did not know sacrificed.”
“You are… Whistledown,” he stared at her in shock. His Penelope. His sweet friend who always encouraged him in his endeavors. She was Whistledown.
“Yes, I am Whistledown. Say what you would like to me. Eloise certainly did,” she flaunted trying to contain the breaths ragging her body.
“That is why you are fighting with Eloise. The Queen was after Eloise for her friendship with a political radical?” Colin inquired, seemingly lost in thought.
“The Queen was after Eloise because she believed she was Whistledown. She was spotted at the printer shop with Theo. The Queen made the conclusion that she was Whistledown. The only way I could save her was to write something that Eloise would never write about herself. As a Bridgerton, her reputation could withstand a punishment from the Ton. But it could not withhold punishment from the Queen. Colin, I tried to warn her about going to see Theo. But she did not listen. I did what I had to save her in the only way I could.”
“Eloise would not have listened to anyone. Not even Anthony or Mother. I do not blame you for what you did. When did she find out?” Colin asked her. He needed to know.
“At the Featherington Ball,” Penelope blurted out angrily. She knew she was pouring salt in his wounds. But frankly, she did not care.
“Pen,” he muttered, his felt the teaming of pain in his voice. God, he had truly messed up.
“It is fine, Colin. I did what was needed to save you. You did what was needed to save me. We are even,” she said trying to mitigate his emotions. She did not want his pity.
“Please Pen...” he whispered as he tried to step towards her.
“Do not, Colin. Please do not say anything. It is done. You cannot save me from this heartache like you want to. You will come back tonight and be thanked by Mother. Then, we will pretend that none of it happened,” Penelope reasoned as she stepped away from him.
“I will be back tonight.” Colin started looking around nervously. “Do not forget about the flowers,” he muttered before excusing himself from the room.
Penelope did not want to go downstairs to dinner. She had shared her biggest secret with Colin and instead of yelling, he sympathized with her actions. For God’s sake, he did not even know what she said about Marina. He only cared about what happened between her and Eloise. She had destroyed his family twice over and he could not even warrant a response of anger. A part of her wanted him to be angry. She wanted him to scream in anger like Eloise did. But he acted with calmness and confusion. When he understood the depth of the hurt, he caused her, she saw the pain laced his face. Colin may had made a mistake, but he was a good man. A better man than what she deserved at the moment; she thought looking at the flowers he had given her.
Colin was 22 years old, sitting in the bedroom, feeling like a 12-year-old again. Colin was a golden boy. The first time he had ever disappointed his family was with Marina. He tried to do his best to make up for it. Her swore-off women, he protected the Featherington the first chance he got, but he still managed to chase away his dearest friend. Penelope was right, he did not know sacrifice. He usually only thought about himself. He ignored every warning sign given to him about Marina because he wanted to be right. He wanted to be loved by someone but missed everyone showing their love for him. Everyone was right. He had not grown up two seasons ago, he still was a boy, just like he felt like now.
When he showed up at the Featherington’s that morning hoping to charm Penelope back into his good graces. He wanted her attention every single time he received a letter, and it was not from her. He had thought that if he showed up this morning with a big bouquet of flowers, she would explain why she did not answer his letters. She would profusely apologize and they would slide back into their easy friendship. But then he had to say something to practically ruin her reputation, and all hell broke loose. She was right, he did not know sacrifice like he did. But he knew the pain and anguish of betrayal. He had made Penelope feel special like Marina made him feel. Then he blindsided her, by using her at the expense of his own again. Yes, he knew how she must have felt well.
He knew he needed to make it up to her. He needed to prove to her that she was more worthy of him than he was worthy of her.
“Mr. Bridgerton” Portia greeted. “I am so glad you could make it. Please sit down. Tell us about your travels. I hope Penelope did not annoy you with her writings.” Portia said.
“Of course not, Lady Featherington. I enjoyed her letters immensely; I believe I wrote her first,” His eyes were tracking Penelope the whole time. He was pleading with her to look at him.
“Oh, well, in that case, thank you. Penelope does not get much attention from any men of the Ton,” Portia joked.
“That is their fault, not Penelope’s.” Colin countered, his anger rising some.
He received a confused look from Penelope. This was certainly a switch up from his sentiment last season.
“Prudence has not had any suitors as of late. I am sure it is because of Jack’s actions last year. Perhaps you know any available gentleman. You were such a help last year,” Portia grinned like the Cheshire cat. “The estate is set to pass to whichever girl has a son first. As a third son, you must share the want to have a title of your own with many friends.”
“I have never helped the idea of marrying just for the protection of status in high esteem. I hope to marry what someone I care deeply about and hopefully love,” Colin countered giving Portia a pointed look.
Portia was not dumb enough to know this was a dig at Marina trying to marry him for protection.
“Of course,” Portia gritted out through a fake smile. “Prudence, would you like to play the pianoforte for, Mr. Bridgerton.”
“Mother you know I am better at singing,” Prudence replied flatly as she lazily studied a fan she was holding.
“Prudence,” Portia let out a shrill that seemed to migrate the whole room.
“What about Penelope playing? I believe I have never heard her play before,” Colin asked trying to bring attention to her. He knew Portia never would bring attention to Penelope.
The evening continued in a similar fashion, Portia throwing Prudence into Colin’s face, and Colin turning his attention right back to Penelope.
“How was the Featheringtons last night?” Benedict asked as he lounged in the Bridgeton drawing room.
“Did you have to put up with Miss Prudence’s awful singing?” Anthony groaned out just thinking of the torture.
“No, Pen played pianoforte,” Colin smiled thinking about it. He had been thinking about it for the last twelve hours.
“Penelope plays the pianoforte?” Hyacinth asked inquisitively from her spot on the sofa.
“Yes, but she rarely plays around people,” Eloise stated plainly as she feigned reading her book.
“It was at my insistence,” Colin countered almost proud of himself.
Before another word could be uttered, Violet swept into the room and announced that it was time to promenade. All the children groaned. But they quickly hastened themselves up and out of the room. As Colin reached the doorway, he heard Anthony call out to him.
“Yes, brother,” Colin answered turning to look at him.
“You seemed to be very happy when talking about Miss Featherington. Is there something I should know?” Anthony asked plainly.
“Not yet, but I hope so soon,” Colin replied with a slightly loopy grin on his face/
At this, Anthony smiled.
“She is a good choice for you brother,” Anthony states as he stands up and passes Colin on the way out of the room.
That was surely the encouragement Colin needed.
When they got to the Serpentine, he immediately sought her out. She was wearing a light blue dress and was on the fringes of a conversation between Lady Featherington and Lady Goring. Colin excused himself from his family and walked over.
“Lady Featherington, can I promenade with Miss Penelope?” he asked, giving her a charming smile.
“Of course, Mister Bridgerton,” she replied giving Penelope a pointed look.
The first few minutes of the walk were filled with awkward silence. Colin had them walking away from the crowd of the Ton hoping to be able to talk more privately. He looked over to Penelope who was fidgeting with her gloves and looking like her mind was spinning with thoughts. He really wished she would speak first. Finally, she abruptly turned to him and started speaking.
“Why are you not mad?” she questioned him. She really had expected him to thoroughly chastise her.
This made Colin pause and think before answering.
“I understand why you acted the way you did. I know that Marina took advantage of my naiveté. I know that Eloise is stubborn and would have dug herself into deeper trouble with the Queen,” he paused for a second looking down at her. “I understand you, Pen.”
“Colin, you wrote my dearest in your last letter. But there was a comma after dearest,” Penelope stumbled out.
When Colin did not answer immediately, she decided to flee. She should not have brought it up. He was probably being polite and trying not to be mad. Now here she was bringing up a simple slight of his hand and thinking too much into a little detail. But as she walked away, Colin grabbed her elbow and looped their arms together, dragging her down a deserted path.
“Yes, I was hoping you noticed. You are very dear to me,” Colin answered letting their arms untangle and facing Penelope. “In fact, you are so dear to me that I cannot imagine you thinking you are not worth me. I am not worth you.”
“Colin, you are confusing me,” Penelope said looking down at their intertwined hands and looking back up to Colin’s eyes.
“Penelope, I hurt you. I built you up and tore you down. I am sorry about that. I never wanted anyone to feel as bad as I did when I learned about Marina. But I did the same thing to you. You have made so many hard decisions by yourself. You had no one to confide in. I am sorry for leaving you by in pain and by yourself.” Colin rushed out hoping to bring her some relief.
“What does this mean for us?” Penelope questioned him looking about for any wondering ears.
“Let me court you,” he stately rather assuredly. He had practiced saying it a dozen times.
“What?” Penelope countered out. She had not expected him to say that.
“Please, let me court you. Let me show you your worth,” Colin pleaded to her. “I will do right by you. I will buy you flowers. We will go on walks. I can show you my devotion and admiration for you.
“Devotion and admiration do not condone courting. Courting is for marriage,” Penelope reasoned to him indignantly.
“Please, Pen. Let me try,” he plead bringing their clasped hands to his lips. He gave them a small kiss. “One week of courting. If I have not convinced you by then, I will give up.
Penelope sighed. She knew the Bridgertons were persistent. Colin was not going to give up or give in.
“I agree,” she replied softly finally meeting his gaze.
“I will not disappoint you again, Penelope,” he promised giving her hand another kiss.
“I hope you do not either,” she answered quietly knowing he would not hear her. But maybe, just maybe, she could let herself forgive him.