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Summary:

Penelope attends a ball and manages to charm a young Lord. Little does she know she’s about to dance with her husband tonight and awake some jealousy with consequences.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

“One would think that the most anticipated ball of the season would be a little more exciting. Don't you agree?”

Penelope looked up. The man to her left was sipping a drink he surely did not get from the refreshment table. He probably brought it from the men's lounge. It would be difficult to find that kind of drink near any dancefloor, it would not be appropriate. His eyes were fixated on the crowd of debutantes on the other side of the ballroom, looking bored, to say the least.

Penelope certainly wouldn't call tonight the most anticipated evening of the season. In addition to the season not even starting properly, Lord and Lady Truman were hosting a ball for the first time. And they didn't do badly. “I think your expectations are excessive, Lord Whitman,” she replied, looking at the hosts who were currently speaking to one of the Smythe-Smith Misses.

That caught his attention. He slightly narrowed his bored eyes. "Why do you think so?" he asked, his left corner twitching upwards.

“The season has only just begun,” she smiled generously and shot him a quick glance. “The quartet is playing well, to say the least, the refreshments are enough for a royal regiment, and the people seem to be enjoying themselves. The dancefloor is cracking and even the conversations on it’s edge does not seem to be futile in any way. Those are, as far as I know, the social criteria for a successful ball, don't you think?”

His mouth opened to answer, but her blunt response obviously caught him by surprise as he stood there staring at her, lips parted, nothing coming out. Penelope enjoyed the sight for a second longer than was appropriate before she smiled in satisfaction and turned her head back to the floor. The cheerful rhythm of the quadrille ruled the ball, and the brightly colored robes on the dancefloor formed a symphonic mosaic moving in perfect symbiosis.

At the edge of the spectacle, she caught sight of Eloise, passionately debating with her mother. Violet Bridgerton was probably forcing her daughter on the dance floor as well, and Eloise certainly had some solid arguments for her as to why dancing was below her, aside from the fact that she could hardly dance, of course. As soon as their looks met, Eloise rolled her eyes at her, which made Penelope laugh. She lowered her sight and took a sip of her lemonade, so as not to laugh out loud.

"I am glad I amused you at my expense." Lord Whitman said before burying his nose in the wiskey again.

"No, I… That- I mean, it wasn't-" Penelope began to explain. "Forgive me, I did not mean to offend you."

An amused smile graced his face. "You did not offend me, do not apologize. The opposite is true in fact. It is nice to come across someone honest." He looked at her and winked. "If all the members of the ton were similarly refreshing, I would not be staying in the country most of the time, even in the middle of the season, to manage the uptightness," he added bitterly before taking another sip.

"Perhaps it would benefit us all." Penelope admitted before she could stop herself.

"Escape to the countryside for months and return to society utterly disgusted?" Lord Whitman echoed. Penelope gave him a sympathetic smile.

Lord Gustav Whitman was only slightly older than her. The only descendant of his father who became the heir very soon after coming of age, as the old Lord died soon after. His estate was among the largest among the Lords. And he was a recent widover. His late wife, Natalia, debuted wih Penelope and became Lady Whitman in her first season. She was always smiling, and had something clever to say. If the marriage mart wasn’t this cruel to the ladies, Penelope was certain they would have become friends. Even Eloise had grown fond of her, because of her sharp wit and even sharper tonge. Not that she ever used it on Penelope or any other young ladies. Her targets were usually men disrespecting the women sex and they deserved what was comming for them. As Lady Whistledown, Penelope learned to admire that. She died of childbed fever and Lord Whitman was mourning her loss out of London. Not that they would spent much time in there after their marriage anyway. Their rebelious spirits complementing each other brought them a very happy union in their own way, out of the ton. This was the first time he appeared in society after her death, probably to remary.

“You will learn to follow the cycle again with ease, I am sure of it.” Penelope felt sorry for the man. She couldn’t imagine, losing a person you love this much, especially in this young age. "If you prefer the quiet of the countryside, I understand you are not enjoying your evening." Penelope gave him an amused look. “Although you did mention you wish for some excitement.”

“Oh, I have changed my attitude just after you set me down for my inappropriate opening remark. If I had known how pleasant company I would find here, I would not have hesitated so much to come here tonight.”

That caught Penelope off guard. His brown eyes studied her as he drummed his fingers on the half-empty glass. Penelope had to lick her lips as her mouth suddenly went dry. She took a ragged breath and tried to remain proper. “I am glad to keep your spirit light my Lord. There is nothing more agonizing than a dull conversation by the refreshment table.”

Lord Whitman had a cheerful smile on his face and remained silent for a moment. "May I ask you to dance, Miss Featherington?" he asked with his head tilted to the side.

"Mrs. Bridgerton."

Lord Whitman turned at the sound of a man's voice. Behind him, towering over him like a marble statue, stood Colin Bridgerton. His handsome face seemed very relaxed and he was smiling casually. However, his eyes were hard and his hand, resting on the lapel of his jacket was clenched into a fist. He wasn't much taller than Lord Whitman, but he certainly seemed that way at the moment.

Penelope's breath got caught in her throat. She hadn't seen Colin in over a week, after he and his brother left for Aubrey Hall to deal with an unexpected incident with their warden. He was wearing an emerld cravat, the same as her dress, which contrasted with the yellow waistcoat peeking out from under his jacket. He was perfectly groomed and freshly shaven too, even though he must have arrived from his journey only moments ago. He probably figured where Penelope was after he failed to find her at home, or the servants told him, probably Rae or Danwoody.

"I am afraid, Lord Whitman, that my wife," Colin said, with extra emphasis to those two words, "Has yet not had time to dance with her husband this evening." He gave Penelope a smile and took her hand in his to kiss it. Penelope bit her lip as she realized that he had reached for her left hand instead of her right hand and held it in the air a little longer than necessary – to make sure Lord Whitman didn't miss the ring that adorned her tiny ring finger. He then turned to Lord Witman with an apologetic smile. “I hope you will excuse us.”

“Of course, Mr. Bridgerton. Miss Feather- Mrs. Bridgerton.” stammered the young Lord apologetically with a small bow, his eyes searching for the shortest way out of the situation he found himself in.

Colin's satisfied smile only widened. "My dear," he looked at Penelope and was already leading her to the middle of the ballroom. Previous notes of the quadrille were replaced by a waltz. Colin's hand, still holding Penelope's, let go of her for a moment, only to move to her back and his left one gripped her right, sticking up in the air, almost like a moment ago, when he was showing off her ring, only this time in a dancing postition. His grip was tight and he pulled her closer than was propper. Feeling her body pressed against his almost made Colin lose his breath. His head was so close to Penelope’s their noses were one tiny movement away from touching. And if they did, he would not be able resist, he’d simply had to kiss her. So rather then causing a scandal in the room, he simply breathed out “I missed you, wife,” and their feet started moving in the rhythm of the waltz.

She missed him too. She did not like being separated from him, even for a short time. She missed his jokes about the lack of food in the dining room, the tenderness of his touch when she woke up, and his passion not only in the evenings. There was no need to say it, they both knew, they both felt it. Their marriage was filled with understanding silence, simply because they knew and understood each other so well.

Colin was moving his thumb on her back in small circles. He was watching her intensely and her bones were slowly turning into water. His eyes were filed with unspoken promisses. She was happy to attend tonight’s ball but at this moment, drowning in his eyes, she wanted nothing but to go home. Penelope concidered it a miracle not one of them tripped during the dance. One of his corners moved up with a suden idea and he let go of her waist to spin her around under his arm. Penelope giggled. She loved these small rebelions of his. And he loved to make her laugh.

The music was slowly coming to it’s end. Colin unwillingly let go of her, when the ballroom got filled with silence and they shared a courtsy as it was proper to do. He took her hand to kiss her knuckles once more, her right one this time, but he did not let go of her afterwards. And then, they just stood there. Completely lost in each other, tiny smiles on both of their faces, enjoying the moment, their reunion.

“Colin!” came a voice from the crowd.

It was Violet, with Eloise by her side. Colin let out a little sigh, but he took Penelope, who was very amused by this situation, to the edge of the dance floor to greet his mother. He gave both of them a hug. Penelope wanted to let go fo his hand, but he only tightened his grip. That made Penelope smile even wider. Her poor needy husband. Fortunately, neither Violet or Eloise were surprised by this situation anymore.

“When did you get back?” Violet asked.

“Just moments ago.”

Eloise gave him a crooked look. “Why haven’t you come to greet us?”

Colin replied with the same kind of look. “Because I have not greeted my wife,” like it was the stupidest question he had ever heard and he had no idea why he had to justify his actions. Penelope blushed. But Eloise was not ready to give up on teasing her brother.

“You could have done both.”

“I have priorities.”

“You were my brother years before you became a husband.”

“Yet I do not regret my choice in the slightest, sister.”

Violet was holding back a smile, unsuccesfully. “Of course, dearest. We were just about to get some refreshments.”

“The lemonade this evening is exquisite. I have shared a word with Lord Whitman by the refreshment table and I am sure he would be elated to dance with you, Eloise.” Colin smiled widely on his sister. If looks could kill, Colin Bridgerton would be in trouble after the one Eloise just shot at him.

Violet on the other hand was very happy about this piece of information, just as Colin expected. She said short farewell, invited them both for a tea tommorow and was already dragging her daughter to the other corner of the ballroom. Eloise kept looking at Colin, surely hoping for him to drop dead on the spot.

Penelope had to turn her back to the scene, because she could not hold her laughter any longer. When she looked back at her husband, she found him watching her with a playful smile on his lips.

He raised his hand to stroke her chin. She inhaled sharply. “Shall we leave?”

The only thing Penelope was able to do at the moment was nod. And she almost tripped when he started moving towards the door. Many people greeted them on their way out, but Colin was only smiling and politely noding his head. He did not spoke again until they left the ballroom and were walking through the hallway.

“You did it again, wife.” He was not looking at her, but he was leading the way, still holding her hand he never let go of since he kissed her on the dancefloor.

“I have no idea of what you speak,” she replied innocently.

She knew what he was reffering to, and she was telling the truth. She did’t know he was about to come, she was not speaking with Lord Whitman to play with him. It became their little game ever since Colin offered to coach Penelope to help her find a husband. One of his first lessons was to flutter her lashes and wave her fan. And she was terrible at it – when she focused on the task. Unbothered by social conventions and completely relaxed, she was much better at it. At least that’s what Colin said. And it made him mad jealous. Eventhough she did not do it on purpose.

Penelope simply spoke to the young Lord because she wanted to, she felt bad for him. Also because she wanted to set him down for his comment. She could not have predicted he didn’t know she was no longer available Miss on the marriage mart. It was no intention of hers to amuse nor impress him. It simply happened. And it was not Lord Whitman’s fault either. That poor man lost this wife and was out of society when her life changed, he was not to blame. And Penelope got no chance to correct him.

Suddenly, Colin moved with a lightning speed. Before she had a chance to breathe, she found herself pinned to the wall of an open changing room, where Colin somewhow dragged her into, with his boddy pressed against hers. His knee opened up her thighs and his fingers, caresing her face, now bradided with her own. In a matter of second he held her arms above her head. He kissed her fervently. And she did as well. Over a week Penelope was waking up to an empty bed. At the moment, her insides were clenched with an iron fist of need and she could clearly feel his desire on her thigh.

She heard the door shut. Colin took both her wrists in his left hand and the other became a journey on her arm down her body. He stopped at her neck, to caress her there softly. His fingertips traveled from her collar bone to her chin until he softly touched her cheek, like was his habit.

Blue eyes watching her were dark with desire like storm clouds. The most remarkable shade of blue indeed. Penelope moved her head towards his lips to kiss him again. He tasted like him and a hint of bourbon. His hand strongly gripped her breast. He hooked a finger on her neckline, trying to pull her dress down an inch. But it was a lost battle. He admitted defeat pretty quickly and decided to travel down her body and pull her skirts up towards her hips, so he could caress her thighs and deriére.

A silent sigh escaped Penelope’s lips.

Suddenly there were voices coming from the hallway. And in that exact moment, his fingers dug into her center. Penelope let out a moan.

“Shh,” Colin whispered with a wolfish smile, but his fingers kept on moving. Penelope had to press her lips together to stop herself from moaning. “I do not want anyone to see my wife like this. Or hear you.” Another finger movement. Penelope swallowed another sigh and yanked her head back from the sweet torture.

“No,” Colin demanded. “Look at me.”

Penelope opened her eyes and looked at him, breathless.

“I want to see you.”

He always gave her confidence. Penelope always felt much more powerful with him. His closeness made her calmer and it took one assuring look from him and everybody else in the room would simply dissapear. Lady Whistledown was always the confident and fearless one between her and Pen. It was Colin who helped her realize there’s no seperating them, that there’s no border where one starts and the other ends and helped them conect into one. But it still surprised her when she heard herself say: “Then watch me.”

And she wasn’t the only one surprised. Colin’s jaw dropped in silent surprise. His eyes traveled across her face, hot breath heavily leaving his parted lips.

He started thrusting into her, this time with their eyes locked into each other. Penelope must have gained all her internal strenght not to close her eyes from pleasure and to not scream during his every move.

He missed her so much. Her body was his second home, he worshipped her like the goddess she was. This was Penelope, his wife, his love and he adored her. He loved her so much it scared him. And she felt exactly the same.

Colin’s movemets became relentless and Penelope started to fall under all that comulated preasure. Her knees were losing control and she fell down an inch down the wall. But Colin fastened the grip on her wrists, he was still holding against the wall in his hand, and put his knee under her thigh to hold her up.

His breeches felt extremely tight, he wished he could take her right there. But this wasn’t about him, it was about her. He wanted her to enjoy herself just like a woman should. His time would come, he thought with excitement, the night was still young.

Penelope could no longer keep her eyes open. Her chest was red and she was biting her lip, and Colin knew she was about to fall apart any moment. He could watch her like this forever, it was one of his favorite scenes to enjoy. He started caressing her with his thumb to increase her pleasure and kissed her quickly to silence her screams. And she let go few moments later.

He could not feel happier than at this very moment. Reunited with his wife, who was satisfied because of him, in a changing room in a strangers house. What a life he had. He could not help himself but chuckle.

“What?” she asked, still breathless, but smiling.

She was so beautiful, Colin thought. “I was just thinking, this is kind of our thing. Getting lost, and having the time of our lives against the wall.” He kissed her on her colar bone. “I love traditions.”

Penelope gasped. “Colin Bridgerton!”

“Do not try to act offended, dear. I know you love it,” he said while peppering her skin with kisses. “Just like I do.” Colin looked into Penelope’s eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you.” She brushed her fingers through his hair and tugged a little and kissed him on lips. “Now, take me home to bed, husband.”

“Always your servant, Mrs. Bridgerton.”

Notes:

My first published short Polin story. It was supposed to be sweet/funny, but Polin is the kinkiest Bridgerton couple, so it became a light smut pretty quickly, lol.
Some chapters might be added, depending on what crosses my mind, but at this point, this is a finished piece.
I hope you enjoyed!