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Marking this space so the advent calendar can begin in December first; if you are a member and hit subscribe it will go to your inbox each day. Just good family fluff.

After Christmas I’ll take out the advent calendar part and leave as a collection of Polin family drabbles.

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Colin dozed as his carriage slowly wound it’s way through the London streets, the dawn light tinting the sky with red and pink hues, heralding a day of unusual warmth that would suffocate the city and make him long for Aubrey Hall and the fresh country air he always found there.- or perhaps an ocean breeze, felt on the deck of a sailing ship as the wind helped it wend it’s way-

where?

If he had free choice where would he be travelling right now?

It was the first end of season in some years that he had spent in London yet there was only one answer in his heart-home.

Nowhere else he would want to be.

Home now was Bloomsbury, amongst the professionals and away from the idle Ton: home was…

Home was Penelope.

Penelope, Penelope, Penelope.

His new wife that he hadn’t seen in days, not since this dratted dash to save his younger sister from her foolhardy tryst with Sir Philip, an endeavour now certain to result in marriage in mere weeks.

The carriage pulled up and Colin alighted before the doorman managed to appear, eager to greet his wife.  Leaving his luggage for later he ran up the steps to his home, his butler holding the door open as he bounded past, tipping his hat to thank the man but not pausing.

“Penelope?”

“She is with me in her chambers, Mr Bridgerton!” a voice floated down the stairs, or rather, grated: he sighed. He had longed for the soft embrace of his wife and instead he had been greeted by her mother, as abrasive an individual as one might ever encounter.

She dashed down the stairs.  “I apologise Mr Bridgerton,” she fussed with her overdone hair as she spoke, “we were not aware you would be returning, I shall take my leave.”  She grasped for her reticule on the table and left; he knew manners dictated that he forestall her, offer tea and polite conversation but he could not bring himself to speak, consoling himself that there would be many other opportunities.

“I am here Colin.”

Her voice! It has only been days since he had heard it but yet- bewitchment!

“Pen! Wife.”

He ran to her, taking her in his arms and swinging her around: he delighted in how her tiny stature made these moments possible, Penelope laughed and batted at him, “put me down! Colin! I need to talk to you.”

“Talking can wait! Do you not wish to welcome your husband home? Penelope!” He pulled his hands to his heart, “have you forgotten me already!” He huffed dramatically; she laughed at him.

“Tea! With biscuits of course, husband.  Follow me if you will.”

Sighing, he traipsed after her: he didn’t think there was anything in the world that could prevent him from following her at this moment, surely she knew that?

Settling next to her on the settee he waited until tea was served then nodded to the staff to leave them alone.  Taking her in his arms again he pulled her close.

“I had not expected to find your mother here when I arrived.”

“We did not anticipate such an early arrival Colin, she came to assist me- I was not feeling entirely myself.”

“Pen, are you well?” He looked at her with concern; she did not seem to need a doctor- her colour was good, her spirits seemed high.

“I am well- I am exceedingly- no, Colin; we are exceedingly well.”

“We?” For a moment he was confused; “your mother? Is prudence here?” He looked around; surely her shrill voice would have announced her presence the minute he arrived.

“No, Colin! We,” she took his hand and placed it upon her stomach, “your child and I- we are well.”

“Oh- oh!”

For a moment the room spun; he knew that married life meant children of course and being a father had long been his dearest wish, but so quickly, they had been married but a few weeks-

they had not waited for marriage, of course.

“Colin? Are you upset? I know it is early but I thought…”

“Upset? Pen!”  his mind caught up with his body and a huge grin slowly took over his face, eyes shining.

“A baby- perhaps a red headed daughter just like you? How could I be anything other than delighted.”  He pulled her in for a kiss; she pulled back after a few minutes. “I would delight in a small boy with chestnut curls my love but it is so fast- I thought you might like it to be just us for a while yet?”

“Do not worry, it is just us; there has only ever been us: this child-“ his smile now was more relaxed. she could see the boy he had been reflected in it “-it is just us, it is made of just us.  All is well.”

“Thank you Colin.”

“Now wife of mine,” he whispered as he took her tea cup and placed it to her side, “I believe it is time for us to retire.  It has grown quite late.”

“Colin it is an hour since I broke my fast.”- her words were stern but she was giggling.

“I have been away too long, it is time I broke my own fast.”  He stood and held out his hand. “Wife.”

She stood and took his hand; “husband.”

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Violet turned and looked towards the church door, hearing a slight commotion, and smiled.  At any other wedding she would have been worried that the bride has changed her mind or perhaps gone missing (she had, after all, lived through Anthony’s bungled nuptials and the farce of Lucy’s first attempt) but not today: today she knew exactly what was happening.

No, it would not be her darling Aggie- Aggie’s commitment to her lovely fiancé Samuel was sound.  It would be Colin.

It was fair to say that Colin was not ready to let his daughter go; he’d held her back on the marriage mart, suddenly deciding that he needed all of his family to accompany him on his travels and delaying her debut until Penelope had stepped in and insisted that it must happen at 20; then he had made himself inhospitable to poor Samuel in a way she hadn’t see him do before with anyone except Lord Debling, all those years ago.

Eventually Penelope and Violet had stepped in and been forced  to micromanage the engagement, Colin- her amazing, able Colin- turning into nothing more than an avoidant watering pot between the announcement and today.

If Violet had needed to describe Colin to anyone unfamiliar with her offspring she would refer to him as her surprising son: seemingly unable to put down roots in his early twenties he had driven Anthony to distraction and her to the edge of despair, frequently disappearing to the continent with itineraries he viewed as flexible and relying only on postal services of varying reliability to let anyone know he remained amongst the living. Then, at a younger age than either of his elder brothers and most of his peers in the Ton, he had simply fallen.

There was no other way to describe it: all her children had love matches and she was very happy for that but Colin had capitulated entirely when he realised his love for his sister’s friend and Violet’s heart daughter, Penelope Featherington. Violet couldn’t have been more pleased, but their early years hadn’t been easy- first there had been the Lady Whistledown blackmail plot, then as soon as they had both started to settle into their respective writing careers their second child Thomas was born, inheriting the Featherington Barony, an almost bankrupt legacy that Colin would be forced to manage until Thomas became of age at 21.

Anthony had stepped up of course, remembering how it had felt to inherit his own title at an early age - a different situation led by loss but Anthony had at least been trained for the event by his father who had kept the Viscountcy viable.  Thomas and Edmund Junior had been raised as close allies, able to support each other in their sense of duty- a shared network Colin had built from scratch.

Colin had quickly sold two of the estate’s smaller cottages, preferring to clear all debts and start anew with restored buildings and coffers, and gradually the Featherington name had been renewed.  In eighteen months now Thomas would come fully into his inheritance, and his parents would stay to help him adjust for one year before moving out to the Bloomsbury house they had called home when first wed.

Colin had handled so much but it seemed that seeing his beloved eldest daughter wed was a step too far.

Agatha would be two hours away by carriage, closer to Aubrey Hall than Mayfair.  Her new husband, second son of a Marquess, preferred to live at a country estate and that quite suited Aggie- raised to play and run wild, her childhood treasured by her parents who had both had theirs interrupted, one by grief and one by the undue haste her mother to marry her off.

Violet was pulled from her musings by the quiet opening of the door, as Penelope walked in to take her place, signifying the start of the procession.  They all stood to watch Aggie walk down the aisle, her father’s eyes red rimmed and his hand clinging to her tightly.  There had been muttering that perhaps Thomas should walk her as Baron, but nobody could have denied Colin this moment, of pride and heartbreak.

He handed Aggie off to her fiancé and stepped back, hand immediately grasping for Penelope’s next to him in the pew. On his other side his daughter Jane cuddled into his arm and his shoulders shook lightly as Anthony reached over from behind with a handkerchief: they had all expected this.

When the ceremony was over they all followed the newlywed couple back to the Featherington’s Mayfair estate, the residence swathed in spring flowers and exterior freshly painted for the special day.  Aggie glowed: her happiness obvious, Violet delighting that yet another generation of Bridgerton was finding it’s love match- and with time for Violet to enjoy being a great grandmother as well, God willing.

Colin relaxed as the celebration continued, Penelope’s arm and Violet’s chat about future grandchildren offering him comfort. His siblings laughed as he danced four dances with his wife- never change darling Colin- and by the time his speech was required he was cheerful, if not entirely dry eyed.

As he watched the carriage leave with his daughter and new husband, Penelope on one side and Violet at the other, Colin surveyed his family and thought how lucky he was: his mother now elderly but still healthy, a son set for life and well supported, another still a child to enjoy, a wife he adored who could provide him with sense when his sensibilities were taking over and of course still one daughter unwed: perhaps it was time to plan his next trip with her, a very long one indeed…but not so far away that he couldn’t answer the calls of a grandchild, should the opportunity arise

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Colin smiled at Rae and quietly dismissed her, picking up the necklace on the dressing table and moving behind his wife to fasten it, whispering “you look lovely tonight, Penelope” in her ear as he leaned over.

Penelope returned his smile in the mirror.

This was the first ball they’d attended since Agatha’s birth, and she hadn’t been in society since the Lady Whistledown reveal at the end of the 1815 season, her pregnancy keeping her away from most of the house parties (not a significant difficulty, 1816 was known as the year with no summer for good reason), and Christmas balls held in the off season;  she was nervous, and she probably had every reason to be, but she knew that as long as her husband was with her she would feel safe and enjoy the evening.

Ready to leave Colin took her hand and they walked to the nursery where Aggie was sleeping with her nurse close by.  Whispering apologies Penelope bent to pick her up, Colin was able to lean over the crib and peck a small kiss on her darling cheek but Penelope lacked the height.  Aggie started to wake but easily settled again, rocked in the familiar and loving arms of her mama.  Usually Penelope would carry out the baby’s evening routine herself with Colin helping when he was able, allowing her nurse to have a break, and she felt the absence tugging at her as she placed her first born back into her bed and whispered her goodbyes to the room. Colin squeezed her hand; there had not been much call for them to be separated from Aggie and it was difficult for them both, but this was the closing ball of the season and they had no more reasons to absent themselves.

The doorman held the carriage door open and Colin stood back to allow his wife to enter first, settling himself across from her and taking her hands.  “Do you remember…”

She laughed.  “Every time I climb in our carriage.  Have you not noticed that I always sit on this side now? It’s my lucky seat.”

“I suspect it was I that had the most luck that day; truly Penelope you are beautiful tonight, I still have moments where I am overwhelmed by how thankful I am to have you in my life.”

She giggled.  “Colin if you’re looking for a full repeat of the evening we became betrothed I regret to remind you that we are on our way to the ball, and it wouldn’t do to arrive in quite the state of disarray I believe I was in when you announced our engagement to your family.”

His face dropped to his lap then lifted back up with a cheeky grin.

“A mess, but my mess…”

“Yes I recall that line from the next day as well!”

They giggled together, enjoying the moment of freedom; Penelope had turned 21 this season and they had been so settled into their domestic roles that Colin delighted in these moments where she could show the young girl she still truly was.

“How many dances am I permitted this evening, my love?”

“The etiquette says it is unwise to go above two does it not?”

“Anthony has always flaunted the etiquette and I believe that we may too, if you will have me?”

“Perhaps we should take a walk in an unlit garden without a chaperone?” Penelope smirked at him and he laughed.

“We often did when it could ruin us so why not enjoy it now that we are free?”

The carriage arrived at the Cho residence and they stepped out to marvel at the torches and candles lighting the facade.

Colin offered Penelope his arm and they stepped up to the entrance; he could already see couples whispering but they were quite used to it by now, Penelope found it tiring but Colin rather delighted in the notoriety- his clever wife had created something significant for herself, and he was proud of her for that.  When it had all been a secret there was a risk attached that he could not adjust to but now she was in the open that same notoriety also brought an element of protection, now and in the future- after all, what rake would dare dally with Lady Whistledown’s sister, friend or (one day) daughter? What banker would take advantage, or staff member plot?

His family was already inside waiting for him, colonising the lemonade table. Violet squeezed Penelope’s arm reassuringly, whispering that Lady Danbury was looking for her to arrange her first tea with the Queen.

The music started and she lifted her dance card to check the order for the evening; looking again in shock she glanced at her husband who was giggling in a corner, having somehow managed to write ‘’mine all mine’ on every set: a challenge.  Well then husband, if you think you’re up to it! Bridgerton competitiveness meet Featherington determination….

Three hours later and it felt as if her feet were likely to fall off, neck aching from staring up at Colin and Eloise glaring in shock at their lack of propriety as they completed their aim of dancing every set together. Eloise reported how Lady Cowper had faux whispered a message of disapproval to Violet, suggesting she get them off the floor; “my dear Lady, last time they were here my daughter was declaring herself to the Queen as the Ton’s favourite scandal writer, I can’t imagine what influence you think I would have.” Violet’s eyes shone as Eloise retold the story, hand coming to the side of her mouth as she whispered “I never liked that woman anyway.”

Colin looked down at his wife with pride, noting that her face glowed and eyes glinted but also that she was starting to glance at the clock on a regular basis; he took her hand. “It has been a lovely evening but I think we are both ready to return to our little lady now.”  Penelope looked up at him in gratitude as he went to organise the carriage.  Dancing was delightful but nothing quite inspired happiness like home with her husband and firstborn child.

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Colin steadied Penelope as she clambered down from the carriage; he would not normally have chosen to travel so far along in her pregnancy but Phillip had impressed upon him the urgency, reassuring him that Eloise was well but required the attention of her brother and sister.  Colin knew Violet was already in attendance to assist with the twins in the lying in period, and his mother had raised no concerns, so they were both confused as to the nature of the crisis that has necessitated such a trip in Penelope’s seventh month.

“Bridgertons!” Phillip called as he strode towards them from the greenhouse- arms reaching towards them in welcome.  Colin pulled him into a hug, slapping his back firmly in congratulations; despite all the potential of a difficult start, Phillip having married Colin’s first fiancée, the two men had always had an easy friendship, their shared love of travel perhaps being deeper than either of their appreciation of Marina.

“Everything is well? I know your missive stated that it was but when one’s sister has been so recently delivered of a child, a summons is always concerning..”

“It is well with us although I am starting to think we asked too much of your own dear wife- Penelope my dear you exhausted.  Come! Cook has caudle made for the new mother, I shall get you a glass and Colin: a whiskey?”

Colin nodded his assent, confused: surely it had been obvious that Penelope would find the journey tiring, increasing as she was and with a toddler to occupy?  Colin had done his best to keep Aggie entertained so his wife could rest but she had wanted her mother for much of the journey.

Colin picked up Aggie and offered his spare arm to his wife, laughing as Phillip rushed ahead towards the Hall, clearly wishing to return to his family.  Phillip was perhaps Colin’s closest friend aside from his natural brothers, on a par with Will Mondrich, but he knew that put him as a distant fourth in Phillip’s affections, somewhere behind Eloise, his children and his plants- he laughed as he realised that he daren’t think on how Eloise rated in comparison to the rare species in his greenhouse.

Penelope smiled up at him: “what is amusing you so much my dear?”

“I was just wondering whether Phillip prefers my sister to his most exotic plant specimens.”

She laughed. “Not a train of thought I’d advise; he loves her certainly, but…”

Their eyes met and they both nodded, knowingly.

As they approached the door they smiled as Violet came into view, waving at first then dashing to grab Aggie so that Colin could offer more support to his wife.  “Penelope you look so exhausted, Colin I do hope you ensured she is well rested?”

“Yes Mama, we stayed three night in inns to break down the journey but nothing beats one’s own chambers at this time… I hope Eloise has good reason.”

Violet nodded, carefully.  “Eloise desperately wanted the company of her dearest friend; usually it would be an easy request but…” she indicated Penelope’s stomach; Penelope rolled her eyes.  “I am tired but I am well: if Eloise needs me then that is an easy decision.”

Pulling her arm free from Colin, Penelope started to climb the stairs to her friend and sister’s chamber, Violet however calling her back.  “Penelope! She is sleeping.  Please, come and take refreshment so that we may feel better about your own welfare.”

Sighing Penelope nodded and headed towards the drawing room where the butler had already left a tray of sandwiches and the drinks. She pushed the plate of sandwiches towards Colin but he refused to take any for himself, handing one to Aggie before turning to her “I’d feel much better if I could see you eat my love, three days of travel and watery inn stew seems rather inadequate for a woman so near to her own lying in.”

Phillip laughed; “you know Colin Bridgerton is in love when he refuses sustenance in order to see his woman fed! Fortunately I predicted this and have sent for another plate of food, so please, both of you eat and then I can take you to Eloise when she wakes.”

Penelope sipped at her caudle whilst Colin watched, amused: they knew it was the prescribed drink for new mothers and invalids but Penelope hated it with a passion, refusing to allow it anywhere near her own home.  Colin glanced at Violet, who was also trying not to laugh, until the matriarch took pity and relieved her of her cup- they both recalled her determination to avoid the concoction last time, they had no wish to enter into that battle again.

“Shall I pour you a cup of tea, my dear?”

Relieved, Penelope thanked her, gratefully, before pulling a face over her caudle mug and poking her tongue out at Colin: he and Phillip bent double in laughter.

“He- you- he knew how much I hated this stuff?”

Phillip wiped his eyes; “Penelope the whole of Mayfair knows how much you hate that drink!”

“Men!”  She crossed her arms and pretended to be angry, her twitching lips giving away her amusement.

Violet handed her the tea and crept away, returning after ten minutes to let them know that Eloise was now awake and wanted to see them both.  Phillip took Colin and Penelope to wash up and Violet sat down to play with Agatha.

“Eloise! Are you well?”

Penelope rushed over to her bedside as quickly as she could manage. Reassured by the healthy glow on his sister’s countenance Colin bit his lip instead, trying to avoid giggling at his wife’s distinct wobbling gait.  Phillip elbowed him: “second time around Bridgerton, have more concern for your own safety!” -he laughed quietly.

Ignoring the men (saving it for later, perhaps), Penelope sat down in the armchair placed alongside Eloise’s bed.  She leaned across the crib, her hand covering her mouth in her joy.  “Oh El! She is beautiful!”  Eloise signalled to Phillip to lift the baby and he passed his daughter to Penelope, who cradled her close and sat back.

“You had us worried my friend, I am so glad to meet this precious creature but why the urgency?”  Colin moved closer, glad the question had been asked.

“I am sorry I made you travel Penelope, I just so wanted you to meet your namesake before we told everyone else her name.”

“My- my namesake?” Penelope’s eyes lifted to her friend in surprise, a tear already running down her cheek.  Colin stepped forward, placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

“Penelope Sybilla Crane; it’s a bit of a mouthful but..”

“Eloise it is beautiful, I am so honoured.  Thank you, my friend.”

“You will be her godmother of course?”

“I shall love and protect her as one of my own.”

Colin met Philip’s eyes across his wife’s head; ‘thank you,’ he mouthed.  Phillip nodded.

“Perhaps we will have the babies baptised together, after your own new arrival is with us?”

Penelope nodded, tears falling freely now.  “I should like that very much.”  Colin took his new niece to hold and Penelope hugged her friend.

After some time Violet poked her head through the door.  “Gentlemen I hate to break up the party but we have two ladies here who need their rest, and a newborn who will need a meal.  Perhaps you would like to assist your wives to sleep before dinner? Penelope has a return trip to make in only two days after all.”

Colin nodded and helped his still weepy wife stand from her chair, “I think that was worth the trip my dear, don’t you?”  She nodded, squeezing his hand to thank him for his care.

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It was one of those glorious early spring days, where the sun was shining and the sky so blue that if you wrapped up well, and made sure you chose your warm gloves, you could almost convince yourself that the weather had turned towards summer.  So pleasant was it that Anthony had organised a pall mall tournament for the enthusiastic adults, much to the chagrin of the gardeners worried about lawn care and the mess they would inevitably leave in their stead. The Bridgerton family were a week into a family gathering at Aubrey Hall that would end with Easter celebrations. 

Penelope was not one of the enthusiastic adults, she had experienced Bridgerton pall mall on a few occasions and firmly believed it to be an insanity she wished for no part of.  Today, that was a fortunate thing.

Confirming their tenuous plans with Cook and her staff, Penelope began to gather children: if there was one thing the Bridgertons did well it was providing grandchildren for Violet, and she managed to track down ten older children and five babes in arms: for this reason she and Cook had roped in extra kitchen staff for the morning, with Kate’s permission of course- any children’s activity was a whole house affair, it was not possible to do anything in a half measure with such a large family.

The babies were left with the nursery nurse and the rest followed Penelope curiously, a little zigzagging queue of chestnut waves and Hastings black curls punctuated by an occasional red flash following her to the ground floor.  At least Oliver and Amanda had now grown too old for such activities, she thought: indeed Amanda was partaking in pall mall at this very minute, Oliver in his first year away at university.

Cook and her helpers had already cleared the table and set out bowls, each child having one plus a few spares to cover the babies. The older children stood with cook and started from scratch, weighing each ingredient with help and mixing: Penelope had already started the dough for the smaller ones, leaving them to flavour it- a different one for each child: chocolate, ginger, lemon, lavender, dried cherries, candied peel, nuts, sugared rose petals, allspice, cinnamon, coffee and marigold, plus any combination thereof.

Helping the children to cut the biscuits and leave to cook to bake, she provided them each with a boiled sweet on the understanding that they kept the secret until everything was finished, then send them back upstairs.

An hour later the pall mall players were back inside, complaining about the cold and damp whilst they readied themselves for tea, Anthony nursing a swollen hand that Penelope did not want to question the origins of.  Penelope gathered the children, carrying George on her hip with his plate and asking the eldest ones to do the same with their baby siblings, ensuring the littlest ones all carried tin plates instead of anything breakable.

In the drawing room Colin sat down to take tea, looking increasingly grumpy.  “I can’t believe that it’s tea time on my birthday and not only have my wife and children vanished, there are no biscuits!”.  Violet coughed and nodded towards the door where young Edmund stood, looking nervous.

“In honour of Uncle Colin’s birthday,” he announced, trying to keep his voice steady, “we would like to present ‘a parade of biscuits!’”- he waved his arm with a flourish, as he had practised with Aunt Penelope. 

The adults all praised and cooed as child after child filed out, each offering a biscuit to each adult present and stopping to wish Colin a happy birthday; Penelope brought up the rear with six month old George, bending down to give Colin a quick kiss as he thought happily that he had a very full plate indeed.

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Colin pulled his cravat off as he threw himself down in the fireside chair next to his wife; he was exhausted.

“Are they settled yet my love?”

He shook his head: “Not one of them. I am sorry my love, I have failed you!”

Penelope resisted the urge to laugh, she hadn’t seen him this dejected since Cressida’s blackmail plot, a decade ago: she would willingly admit that his foe now was much more formidable.

“Four children on St Nicholas’ Eve, Colin: what did you expect when you told the nurse she could take the evening off?”

“I expected… I expected.. sweet excited stories and games, perhaps blind man’s buff, bullet pudding, baked apples and sneaking treats.  Instead I’ve been rewarded for my care with a household of hellions!”

“Have they had treats?”  She sat next to him in her chair, knowing yet dreading the answer.

“Only a few my love: lemon drops and barley sugar, nothing too exciting.”

“So, Colin, sweet husband of mine and not inexperienced head of this household, you endeavoured to calm four children, all of less than ten years, all refusing to slumber despite the midnight hour, all excited at the commencement of Christmas festivities,  by giving them sugary treats and playing games?”

“Err- yes?”

“And how long have you been a parent, Mr Bridgerton?”

“But they promised!”

“Colin I married you knowing you had a gentle heart, that you would be a devoted and loving father prone to occasional mischief and frequent merrymaking, a joy and quite the opposite of my own childhood…”

“… and a loving and devoted husband?”

“without question my sweet, but pray tell me- when did you decide to become such a colossal fatwit?”

“Penelope!”

“It is midnight, Colin! Midnight on St Nicholas’ Eve, and I can still hear them crashing about in their chambers!”

“Perhaps we should not allow them the gift we had planned for tomorrow, leave the day unmarked?”

“Colin,” Penelope said with a sigh, rubbing the space between her eyes in growing frustration; “if we did not- where do you propose I hide a puppy for the remainder of the festive season? Your mother will be here to greet them in the morning bearing gingerbread and mine is hosting a family party which the children will be expected to attend- and to not behave in the manner of sleep deprived terrors: would this seem likely?”

“No.”

“Perhaps dear- and this is not the first time I have considered this- you are my most troublesome child.”

“Should I try again, Pen?”

“No: they are well aware that they have succeeded against their unfortunate father, it is my turn to behave as a grown up now.”

Twenty minutes later, children sufficiently subdued and tucked up in their cosy beds,  Penelope found Colin in their bedchamber, all apology and contrition.

“I am an inadequate.”

“Promise me you will never again offer the nurse a night away without asking me.”

“I promise Pen.  I am full of remorse.”

She sighed and sat alongside him on the bed, curling to settle her head into his lap. She could not stay angry at him for long, he was just too pretty. “You are a fatwit of immense proportions but Colin, you are my fatwit. I cannot pretend that you did not frustrate me this night but you are the sweetest of fathers, the most loving of husbands: I would not change you for the world.”

“I love you Penelope.  It is now after midnight, Happy St Nicholas’ Day.”

“Happy 6th December, my love.”

Chapter Text

Penelope hadn’t necessarily had the happiest of childhoods, but that had all changed days before her 16th birthday when an accident led to her discovering a deep friendship with Eloise, the daughter of the house across the way.  From that moment she never looked back, quickly being absorbed into the warmest of families, a circumstance that changed her life in every conceivable way.  Indeed, she was willing to admit that had she met them just weeks before it was unlikely that she would ever have started Whistledown- a circumstance that may have left her rather less financially secure, but also made the beginnings of married life somewhat easier.

For this reason she had endeavoured to try and help Aggie and Jane find their own Eloise at every opportunity, ensuring that new friends knew they might visit for tea at any time, escorting them to juvenile routs and childhood parties, and giving them ample freedoms to make new acquaintances.  Jane, however, was not the social butterfly that her two elder siblings had become (Penelope would admit she saw much of herself in her younger daughter), and at the age of sixteen still lacked a close confidante.  Colin was annoyingly sanguine about this, making it clear that he would be extremely satisfied should his daughter decide to remain in his household and his companion forever (“not again, Colin” she would say in exasperation, as he laughed and pretended to be in jest), but Penelope hoped that the rounds of dance classes and events that would lead up to her debut in eighteen months might finally lead her to deep friendship and a support for encroaching adulthood. She’d persuaded Colin to keep the family in England this time (with promises of travels in Spain in the off season), but knew the mart would be lonely with only blood family to support her.  It wasn’t that she wished for Jane to make a quick match- if anything, quite the opposite, her own path to true love had been slower- but it was still a time that could wreck a young woman’s confidence.

It was with relief, then, that Penelope slowly witnessed the tenuous first steps in a sisterly bond with Clara Cho, the daughter of one of Colin’s schoolmates. At first it would be small smiles across the floor at dance classes and then whispered conversations when the families bumped into each other at the modiste or in the park, eventually turning into clear requests for trips to promenade or to Gunter’s, where the two girls would giggle and Penelope fortuitously happen to bump into family and friends to leave them enough alone that a bond could form.

Clara was an only daughter, so enjoyed seeking out the Featherington estate and it’s cluster of both Featherington and Bridgerton, where family numbers were constantly boosted by cousins and their own friends and spouses, Auggie and Belinda especially being such frequent visitors even after their own marriages that Colin decided to press the nursery back into action to encourage them to give him the company of his great nephews and nieces- Philomena was now courting as well, and their own Aggie expecting (one didn’t mention that around Colin, he was prone to swinging between extreme excitement and panic on the matter) so the family was expanding quickly and the Hall becoming a nest of sorts for future generations, much like the home he had grown up in.

This sennight was the first that Clara had actually stayed with them, her own parents away and trusting the Bridgertons to watch over her.  Jane had been in a state of excitement: preparing Clara’s room, helping her mother choose menus, instructing the two siblings living with her to Keep Away At All Costs.  Penelope and Eloise had watched them with nostalgia, remembering all the ways their own friendship had blossomed: the nights whispering at balls, rainy days shuttered into the  library and sunny days at Aubrey Hall laying in the fields sharing dreams.  Jane was quite close to her many cousins- being born the same year as Gregory’s eldest had brought a link to a vast amount of cousins in that branch alone- but never truly quite felt that sense of belonging: something Penelope respected and recognised.

Colin and Penelope barely saw the two girls the first days of her stay, emerging only for meals where they would sit together and giggle quietly, ignoring all other conversation, Jane glaring at George and Thomas if they so much as offered a comment: for the first day or two Penelope tolerated it with indulgence, but on the third she cornered Jane, asking her to show better manners towards her siblings, impressing on her that technically Thomas was their host as Baron, and that one day when Jane’s parents had set up their own house she might well wish to remain under his roof for at least part of the year, bringing her friends to visit- it would make sense to establish good boundaries now.  Reluctantly Jane agreed, but as she left she muttered about Thomas being an enormous pain and how girls should be allowed to inherit, they’d all have such better lives with Aggie in charge.  Penelope laughed, being reminded of Eloise, and told her husband that as they curled up in bed that evening.

“I wonder…” Colin replied, a curious expression crossing his face.

“Colin?”

“No- it is just a suspicion.  Let me think on this some more.”

For the next few days Colin rarely left home, instead quietly placing himself near to the two girls with a book or ledger at hand, making himself almost invisible in their presence.  He joined them on promenades despite other chaperones presenting themselves, arranged impromptu picnics and threw himself into hosting with such fervour that Clara had the time of her life: when questioned by Penelope he simply grinned, “it is an investment in our future my love, just wait and see,” before leaning down to kiss her.

Clara’s return home after a week was followed by frequent letters and promises of a return visit, Jane initially staying with the Chos for a few days in the country then Clara returning.  Penelope watched with suspicion as Colin planned, claiming it was time to test his theory.

On the first night of the visit Colin leaned towards his wife and took her hand as he whispered “watch!” as Clara arrived, Jane throwing herself at her friend in delight whilst Thomas stood grumpily nearby.  Confused, Penelope looked up at her husband: “you’ll see, my dear.”

The next day he came again, asking her to join him to promenade with the girls.  As they prepared to depart Thomas dove out of the side study, declaring it a lovely day for some air: Colin giggled and winked at his wife.

Oh.

The third day was met with disquiet amongst the siblings: Clara and her maid has travelled into town for a prearranged trip to the modiste, and Penelope and Colin went running as they heard raised voices from the drawing room.

“She’s MY friend Thomas! Why can’t you leave us be?”

“She’s MY friend as well and this is my house, sister, you can’t tell me where to be!”

Jane looked at her mum and stamped her foot in frustration; seeing a need for a fatherly talk Colin grabbed his jacket and persuaded Thomas to join him at Whites, sending a message to Anthony and Edmund to meet them there.   

Two hours later Colin returned, nodding to his wife to join him in the library, away from the young people.  He held a finger to his lips to urge her to be quiet as he closed the door, eyes twinkling as he turned to look at her.

“They are simply friends.”

“Thomas and Clara? Well that’s nice for them then…”

“Best friends…”

“That explains Jane’s jealousy…”

“Reminds me of someone else’s reaction to us being ‘just best friends’ all those years ago…”

“What? Oh- oh… you mean he has inherited his father’s delightful yet frustrating utter obliviousness to his own growing feelings..”

Colin nodded with a smirk.

“Indeed.”

“Poor Clara!”

“Eloise would say poor Jane!”

Colin moved closer to Penelope and pulled her to him, kissing her affectionately.  “I’d hoped we’d pass on your hair and intelligence, and perhaps my ease with people; I hadn’t expected to watch history repeating itself before our very eyes!”

Penelope laughed before looking at him in horror.  “Do you actually recall how we behaved at the time of our engagement? and they’re under the same roof…”

Colin grimaced.  “I wonder if he’s interested in taking a grand tour…”

Chapter Text

Colin and Penelope’s carriage turned towards their Bloomsbury residence.  He didn’t know quite how to feel about their homecoming- one of his favourite memories had been formed in that house, the day after their engagement, and yet there had been so much pain as well in the weeks after their wedding- he’d been of half a mind to suggest Anthony sell the place and help him find somewhere new, but then he’d talked to Penelope, late at night cuddled up in inn rooms or laid on blankets in private gardens, and he’d learned how unstable her childhood had truly been. He knew about poverty of course, many of the Ton avoided the streets of London but he’d never been one for that and even if he had been that way inclined travelling forced one’s eyes open anyway- but he’d never realised that families in his own world, families he loved and considered close, were going without nourishing victuals and living in constant fear of losing their home.

When he and Penelope had not been in sympathy he’d been plagued by the constant notion that he had nothing to offer to her- indeed he’d told her that the night before their wedding, asking “what good am I to you?”.  Part of their path to reconciliation was him understanding that he was enough as he was, that she was more than happy just to be with him- but gradually he had learned that it wasn’t the whole story.  She had all the Lady Whistledown profits certainly, but mostly unused: his own inheritance meant that she could use that as she chose.  Her fear of discovery, of Portia’s profligacy and genuine belief that she would need to fund herself as a spinster (how? his wife was glorious- the Ton were blind idiots), meant she could not access those funds and of course she could now under the protection of his name, but he could offer something else valuable alongside love and financial freedom: constancy.  Never again would she have to worry that she would lack a home, a home where she would always know she was a wanted companion: never again would she sit nervously as the staff screened visitors to deter debt collectors or unpaid tradespeople, never again would she lie in her bed at night waiting for the head of household to return drunk, knowing he could have gambled away their livelihood, home- or worse! Arranged marriages were becoming less acceptable but nothing really prevented a desperate father from using a daughter with an esteemed name as collateral against a loan- Colin shuddered and decided not to proceed with that line of thought, at least the man had not done that even when his very life was at risk.

Yes: he could offer Penelope the sort of stability and sense of safety he’d been gifted with his own family.  It was a blessing and a task he would willingly grasp with both hands.

Therefore the Bloomsbury address stayed, with the promise of turning it into a warm, loving home that rivalled Bridgerton House itself for the love of the family within- and so now they were returning fresh from honeymoon, to begin that very task.

Penelope’s pregnancy had changed his honeymoon plans: he’d initially considered Paris, or Italy, but her condition meant he had chosen to stay in the country, instead journeying no further than Dorset with a brief sojourn in Bath.  Typically Penelope had felt guilty and that she was somehow holding him back, but finally he had helped her to understand that nothing about their life together would ever hold him back- he was exactly where he wished to be.

In contrast of course his eldest brother had placed his wife, much further along in her own expectations, on a ship bound for India: his mother had been furious, had roped Colin as an experienced traveller into her attempts to dissuade him, but he had refused to listen- had somehow believed that his word as first born and Viscount trumped Colin’s knowledge of travel or his mother’s experience of childbed, even with the perilous nature of her last delivery.  Colin prayed that Anthony and his family would arrive safe, but he knew that he would not arrive happy, given the missives that Violet had sent to Kate’s mother Mary before his departure, expressing concern and outrage- he was likely to arrive to a furious mother in law, and well deserved!

No, Colin would not place his expectant wife on a ship for anything, and he wouldn’t risk her not having that sense of home for anything, so here they were returning to a place that held such mixed memories.  He’d been determined to work on that, and had utilised his favourite resource in order to do so: his siblings.

When one was a member of such a large family one learned to choose allies wisely, and in this case he had chosen Benedict for his romantic soul (and access to resources in Anthony’s absence), and Eloise for her knowledge of his wife. He hoped they had fulfilled the task set them.

It wasn’t as if they’d be home much in the next 48 hours: he would ensure Penelope rested but Portia would wish to check on her daughter’s well-being and then they would travel to Bridgerton House to announce the pregnancy.  Penelope’s condition wasn’t obvious yet but would be soon, and whilst he was certain his mother would know the minute she set eyes on her he was excited about sharing this moment with his family. More than anything else though this time now was about building a home, a nest for their precious baby, and that meant clearing the property of old, negative associations.

The carriage pulled up outside their address and the doorman assisted them out, Colin insisting on helping his wife himself. Their housekeeper and butler lined up outside, Rae and his valet being in an accompanying carriage with their luggage somewhat behind them along the road.  Colin had asked Benedict to minimise the welcoming line up, knowing his wife found such formalities intimidating.

Colin and Penelope greeted the staff then he stepped back as she entered the reception area: it was filled with her favourite blooms, Gladioli (Benedict had chosen red for romance and love- excellent selection, brother), white roses for young love and new beginnings, and Veronica (she’d had it in her wedding bouquet), to represent protection- the home he wished to give her.  The effect was breathtaking, thank goodness for Benedict’s artistic soul (and the note he’d mailed to Colin with the meanings in case she asked).

He watched lovingly as her eyes opened wide in awe.  He slipped his arms around her- “welcome home, my darling,” and pressed a gentle kiss below her ear.

None of the house had been left untouched, save one special room.  Eloise had filled shelves in their new library with reading material (he had taken a punt on that one and hoped it was not solely stocked with dry pamphlets and radical papers), the kitchen stocked with her favourite foods, the sofa that he’d slept on when they were arguing removed and replaced, a certain chaise longue moved to the study in which he had also arranged for two desks to be placed, back to back, so they could work together.

Only the guest room he intended to be their nursery was left untouched, he wanted that to be something they prepared as a couple.

She held his hand ever tighter as they toured together.  “You did this?” she asked in awe, eyes dampening as he explained how he had asked his siblings to help with his plans to show her that this house was hers, that she would always be safe with him.

This was her home, his home would forever be Penelope.

Chapter Text

“Mama! Papa! Look!”

Colin and Penelope turned their spouse, both silently willing the other to offer to be the one who went to their children, leaving the warm cocoon of the bed on this freezing cold morning. Eventually Penelope gave in, huffing as she pulled on her robe and slippers, so early that the maid had yet to light their little fireplace. Colin immediately felt guilty; “I’ll take the next turn my love, thank you,” but then rolled over to try and return to his slumber, pulling the blankets tight around him.

It wasn’t hard to work out what had excited them so; the voice had been Aggie’s but there was no chance that the other siblings had slept any longer, if anything she was surprised at Colin- if he’d realised she was certain he’d have bounded out of bed to wake them himself- perhaps he was getting older, she mused; she would have to ask him, she knew very well how much he loved to be reminded that he was now in his mid thirties.

Entering her daughter’s room she saw exactly the sight she had expected- four children staring out of the window, watching as snow gently drifted down to settle, still dark except for the moonlight reflecting off the landscape. With no sign of stopping the children saw the only the potential of fun and laughter. Yes indeed her husband would love this once he had woken, there was little he loved more than a game of snowballs or perhaps a walk with the sledge (nothing she’d want to discuss with the children anyway, she thought with a small smile).

Greeting her family she reassured the maid who hurried in to light the fire, apologising profusely that it hadn’t already been done: Penelope explained that the children were uncommonly early with their waking this morning and it was just excitement. In truth Penelope had hoped for more time for them to settle back into a routine, twelfth night only having passed three days ago, but she’d been a mother long enough now to understand that certain parts of childhood had to be grasped before they grew too old- Agatha was already 10, and Thomas just five years from leaving them to attend Eton.

Taking the hands of her two youngest children and bidding the older two to follow her with a finger against her lips to indicate silence, they all crept out of the chamber and followed her towards her own room. She knelt down so little George and Jane could hear and whispered to them, pointing at the bed. Using her fingers as an aid she counted: “one, two, three….”

“Papa! It’s snowing!” the children screamed as they jumped on top of Colin, who woke with an audible “oof!”, putting his hands out to grab at little George so he didn’t fall off the high bed and started to laugh.

“I knew your mama would get her revenge somehow!”

The children shrieked in delight as he tickled them as ‘punishment’ for waking him, then he climbed out of bed, reaching for his robe and calling for the staff to ready them all so they could enjoy a snow day together.

The recent end of the Christmas season meant that they were in Surrey at the Featherington country estate: had the weather changed days before they would have been at Aubrey Hall which, Colin lamented, would have seen them able to spend the day with their very many cousins, indeed the Featherington cousins Philomena, Pansy and Priscilla were due to visit with their parents the next week- this was a rare quiet spell. Colin briefly thought on a childhood and adult family that meant four children ten and under counted as quiet before shaking his head and grinning as he gave thanks for his blessings: Colin adored children, whilst Anthony and Benedict could often be found hiding away at the larger family gatherings, Colin, Gregory and their mother Violet deliberately placed themselves in the centre of the chaos, adoring every second. Penelope would often sneak off to fhe library in those moments, loving being part of the wider Bridgerton mayhem but appreciating the respite.

Fasts broken and wrapped up warm the children lined up by the door, Colin taking Jane’s hand and Penelope George’s as they headed out. Two sledges lay outside the door readied for them and the older two took the strings to pull them to the slope behind the house.

They ran around for an hour, alternating slides of the sledge with snowball fights and the start of what would become the best snowman of their childhood, screaming in excitement as Papa stood at the top of the slope to see them off safely and Mama met them with warm smiles at the bottom, older siblings accompanying little George, who was desperate to play ‘like a big boy mama’ but still only three. Gradually excited shouts and joyous laughter quietened as the whitened morning became too cold so they all traipsed back, the little ones sat on the sledge now as their little legs had given out from all the fun, towed by their siblings whilst mama and papa walked hand in hand, papa wrapping his bigger warm hands tightly around mamas to keep her warm. Handed off to the nursery staff in their need for dry clothing they soon all gathered back together for hot chocolate and biscuits, watching as yet more snow settled, creating an eery silence and sense of togetherness amongst the blazing fireplaces.

Over the next few days they repeated the excitement, gradually building the biggest snowman any of them had ever seen- acquiring buttons from the housekeeper and a carrot for a nose they named him after Thomas’ hated Latin tutor, Thomas celebrating the fact that the weather meant he could not reach the household to deliver lessons. Agatha sketched the snowman when she decided she was too old to play snowballs, before giving into the pull and joining back into the game. The cousins delayed their trip, London was frozen, the Thames full of ice floes and carriages unsafe. Cut off from the world the family plays and and warms up, plays and warms up on repeat until slowly the snow turns to sludge and recedes, only for them to be able to glimpse the first signs of spring flowers. The post is able to get through again and Gregory has written to inform them that he is now formally engaged to Lucy, with a date set soon- “thank goodness,” Colin tells Penelope, as they remember the pair’s previous catastrophic wedding encounter.

Spring rolls around and with it longer days and new precious memories, but on a wall in Colin’s study there is a picture pinned of a snowman with little button eyes holding a Latin book, and it becomes one of his most prized possessions, eventually acquiring a frame when the paper starts to become brittle- in decades to come, when even grandchildren are growing up and Colin laughs at how old he felt at 35, that picture will sit in the study in the Bloomsbury House and those grandchildren will know it as Grampy’s favourite piece of art.

Chapter Text

Penelope had dreaded this day for a long while- years, if truth be told.  Perhaps, growing up in a household of girls as she did, it had taken on a dreamlike quality that she had learned to ignore but today, this very morning, the time had come.

Thomas was leaving for Eton.

There had been parties to send both Thomas and Edmund on their way, both boys nervous but showing off to younger siblings and cousins who would follow them in a few years, making mean comments to the girls about not being classed as important enough to merit such an education: that had ended abruptly once Eloise had overheard- both young men being forced to join their aunt on a long walk and endure a several hour lecture on the value of women’s education and why society conspired to deprive the most able sex of empowerment in order to allow the men to continue their unearned domination.  Thomas had returned wide eyed, expecting sympathy from his father who had only gestured towards Penelope and suggested that perhaps Eloise had a point, that his mama and aunt were certainly the most capable people he’d encountered.

Penelope had glowed under the praise.

After the rounds of celebration though the world had shrunk to books, uniform and packing trunks, Anthony and Colin sharing happy memories of their own time at school (Penelope presumed Anthony had been as tearful as Colin behind closed doors with only Kate to bear witness).

Penelope had, of course, tried to find alternatives: from masters at home though to the family packing up and travelling to the Americas for a prolonged period (if it was an option for Colin when he needed to escape why not her?)- she had thrown suggestions at him until one day he had sat her down, reminded her that their son was a Baron and needed a Baron’s education- and had held her whilst she sobbed and railed against a title that she’d never even asked for.  The day after he’d stayed close but must have manage to get a note out as she was visited not just by Anthony who spoke to her about how important is schooling had been when he took over the Viscount role  (“you had nobody else to help you, Thomas has Colin and he’s held the mantle for years without any proper training”) but by Violet who had confided that she’d felt the same when she had sent her sons away, especially the third as he had seemed just that bit too sensitive, but all had been well.

Well? Had they missed the years the same son had roamed the globe lost and rootless?

The time for mourning and fighting had passed now, her son’s room was filled with trunks and uniform, the carriage conveying Thomas and Edmund with their fathers harnessed outside Bridgerton House before heading to theirs across the Square. She had hidden reassuring notes amongst his things, provided vast amounts of ink and paper for letters home: there was now only one thing to do.

She knocked on her son’s room door and pushed her head in. “I know you are almost grown now but could you indulge your poor mama with a cuddle, my son?”

Looking younger than his years and fearful as the change loomed Thomas nodded, waiting for her to sit before he crawled into her lap, head pushed into her and face down as he swallowed hard to avoid tears. He was so much taller than her already she thought; how large would he be on his return? 

“I can’t cry mama, Edmund would be so disappointed…”

“You are lucky to have Edmund my dear but I assure you, he will be sat with your Aunt just like this: you may feel older but you will always be our babies, our firstborn sons.”

Thomas nodded and lifted his head.  “I love you mama, I love this home, even Aggie…”

Penelope gave a wet laugh. “Even Aggie will miss you my dear boy, and she will write.  There will be more letters than you can even imagine, it’s a family trait, and then it will be Christmas and you will be back here with stories and new friends to share with us.”

“I don’t need new friends, there are too many Bridgertons, Featheringtons, Cranes, Hastings, St Clairs and Stirlings to keep up with as it is…”

“A good number of who will be at school with you in a year or two, looking to you to guide them and quell their fears: it is hard being the first I’m sure.”

“I’m brave mama.”

“You are my son, I hope I can be as well.”

She took his hand and led him to the door where the carriage and two occupants was pulling up outside. Colin squeezed her hand as children and relatives gathered to wave them off, whispering to her how proud he was of her before climbing into the carriage himself.

As the party drove away the family drifted away but Kate and Penelope found each other and made their way to the drawing room together, sharing memories and taking comfort from their sister by marriage as their young men drove away to a new stage in life.

Chapter Text

It had been several years since Colin had travelled alone, on the rare occasions that he needed to leave the country at all now (it was still a source of wonder for him how quickly his need to be forever on the move had been replaced by his need to be home, with Pen- it was amazing what one kiss could do to a man), he usually insisted on being accompanied by his family, arranging tutors when needed, or on occasion Gregory- if anything now he felt confused about how he had spent so many months of his life alone when he now hated every second.

This time however it had been impossible for the family to accompany him due to Portia’s (now recovered, thankfully) ill health; Gregory was home with his wife and children (he would never quite understand how that had happened- either the fact of his baby brother being a devoted family man or the circumstances that had led to the wedding, especially that damned tree!), and he hadn’t been able to delay any longer because after all, one needed to travel to call oneself a travel writer!  He’d exhausted the delights of northern France and Belgium in previous trips that demanded proximity to the English coastline (An Englishman in France, Ireland , Belgium and Scotland all published), and now he was returning after three months away from his family in Spain, a country he felt would have been utterly delightful had he not spent the entire time eaten up with homesickness.

He checked his pocket watch; still on course for his planned arrival time.  He’d made a habit of cutting things a little fine in the past, gliding in at the minute to witness Francesca’s debut, but there was simply no way he was willing to miss seeing his Penelope for the entirety of tomorrow, May 6th 1825: ten years since their wedding day, a day that brought complex memories for them both but mostly now the same sense of overriding joy and completion he’d experienced as she stood at the end of that aisle and nodded to him.

Lord but he was a fortunate man.

Of course the following days would be a veritable whirlwind of children, siblings, his mother and Barony duties but tomorrow? That was for them.  He’d promised her, both of them saddened when they realised they would be unable to travel as a family on this occasion, and he could never break a promise to his love.

The carriage pulled into the roadside as per his request so that he might add a huge bouquet of flowers to the gifts currently held securely in his trunks (Penelope’s stores in his old leather travelled bag for closer safekeeping).  He had ordered a bouquet of red roses, Lily of the valley and ivy, and it was ready for him as he’d requested, leaving him free to start the last leg of his journey home.

The traffic was slow as he approached Mayfair, reminding him again of the return home a decade ago; frustrated, he jumped out of the carriage with his bag and bouquet, deciding to walk the remainder of the journey to Featherington House, with the carriage following as the roads allowed.

He arrived earlier than expected, turning the corner to the square to be greeted by the sight of his wife and all four children crossing to Bridgerton House opposite. Stepping behind a tree he briefly watched them with a smile, Penelope staying for just a minute and returning alone.  Yet again the parallels with ten years ago came to mind, only then his beautiful elegant lady wife was a young, shy girl peeping out from the same trees to watch his return alone, temporarily estranged from her friendship with Eloise.  He smiled as he reminisced, knowing that whilst that season has brought it’s fair share of heartache it had also changed every single aspect of his life: Penelope, marriage, Aggie, his first manuscript, the path that led to him managing the Barony for Thomas… every ounce of hurt was worth it to end up here, with the life he was so grateful to live.

He stepped out from the trees: “wife!” he called- he could hear the joy in his own voice.  Penelope spun on her heel at the sound and ran towards him, throwing herself into his waiting arms with an energy more befitting of a girl than a married woman with four young children.  He dropped his bags and the bouquet to catch her, laughing.  Taking her hands he spun her around, pulling her close again, her hands resting upon his chest and eyes gazing up at him in adoration.

“What are you doing, husband?” she laughed.

“Dancing with my wife, on the eve of our anniversary, outside the home we have been blessed with…”

“I should scold you but at least it is not a church this time…”

“Neither is it a wedding breakfast, my dear, and that was very definitely your doing…”

“Hush husband! Someone will hear!”

Colin glanced around; “there is nobody and if there was, so what? If I should wish to dance with my wife in Grosvenor Square, Berkeley Square and indeed Leicester Square I shall, and who will stop me? Head of the house of Featherington, husband of the famous Lady Whistledown herself.”

Penelope smiled happily as she watched him pick up his parcels and drew his hand into his and led him towards their home.  “I should rather dance with my husband in the halls of our home, when the children are with his family and there is nobody to disturb us but a few staff who can easily be dismissed.  Welcome home, my love: I have missed you.”

“I have missed you too my love.”

Colin handed her the flowers and she thanked him with a small kiss. Reaching into his bag he patted the diamond necklace he had ready for the morrow, knowing the woman whose hand he was grasping tightly would always be his diamond of the 1815 season- and every season after. 

Chapter Text

Jane sat up in bed with her arms crossed, an angry expression on her face that anyone who knew her would usually take as their cue to run a mile.  Blessed with the determination of her mother and emotional sensibilities of her father, Jane was known for her ability to sulk as much as her quiet studiousness.

Today was her tenth birthday.  Her last birthday before her beloved Thomas went away to school, she had planned to spend the week with her family at Aubrey Hall, her favourite cousins Isabella and Richard joining them for the occasion.  There was something special about going from single digits to double and papa had spent the last year telling her what a special birthday she would have, but now-

ugh-

but now she was stuck in her bed, bored rigid from weeks of being unable to leave after a silly fall from her pony left her needing the attentions of the surgeon and his bone setter.

The early days had been bad- not that she was going to let Aggie or Thomas know how bad the surgeon’s visits were, those memories were between her and her father who had held her hand throughout- but now this boredom… and on this particular day.

She picked up her book and threw it at her door in frustration (and maybe just a little bit of hope that it might make someone remember her presence in her chamber, as they all seemed to have forgotten!). It was bad enough being bed ridden as a small nine year old but now she was ten! She should be climbing trees (the presence of Isabella at Aubrey Hall meant her Aunt Eloise, and when Aunt Eloise and mama got together the word ladylike disappeared from her world), sneaking to Grandma Violet for lemon drops and wearing her birthday hat- Uncle Anthony would sneak her cake at breakfast time and argue with papa about just whose role it was to spoil her the most- last year Aunt Kate had whispered to her that she was very lucky to be too young to have to deal with the world of men yet, and taken her outside to play with Edmund’s new kitten (her papa and uncle were still arguing when she returned).

The door creaked open and her governess poked her head through.
“Miss? I heard a crash, is everything well?”

Jane sighed.  “Everything is well Miss, tell me- are my parents about this morning? I have not seen anyone except the maid…”

The governess looked worried and averted her eyes.  “They are about miss, I believe they are preparing for visitors.”

Oh no.

Not the surgeon again? She’d been reassured that she was healing and that he would hardly need to visit again but today?

She asked the governess to return her book and found her place: she’d read it three times but even her mama could not keep up with reading material at the rate she was devouring it to stave off the tedium.  Papa had laughed and offered to bring her some of mama’s early writings but had been quickly shut down by mama’s rarely used but highly efficient expression-  The Look as papa usually called it, when he felt especially brave or naughty.

She read to the end of the chapter before her attention was turned by a quiet knock on her door.  Opening wide she was joined by her mama, a smile upon her face as she busied herself around the room, pulling blankets straight and placing a small kiss on her forehead.

“I have news Jane, but first, happy birthday my dear! How fast you have grown indeed.”

“Is the surgeon here to see me again?”

“The surgeon? Oh no, no Jane- it would have to be a dire emergency for us to welcome him today! No, quite the opposite: today you may sit out of bed for a while, if you will agree to have your poorly leg raised and to try and stay still.”

“Truly? May I sit by the window?”

“Of course my love.  Your papa will be here shortly to attend to you, I am sorry we are later than usual, we had visitors due.”

Jane nodded, a huge smile wiping away the misery of the boredom.  This was a birthday gift indeed!

Her mama sat down next to her and read aloud to her, stroking her hair as she had liked as a small child.  Eventually her papa entered the room, to be greeted by smiles from both of the occupants.

“Here is my birthday girl!  Are you ready to leave the bed, finally?”

Jane nodded furiously.  “I cannot wait!”

Penelope moved a chair and footstool to the big window, pulling back the curtains so that Jane could look down onto the street and to her cousin’s house across the square.  “This was my room, Jane,” her mama said, with a small smile towards her papa: “you are not the first generation of Featherington woman to sit and peer out of this window!” Her mama winked at her.

“Bridgerton woman!” Colin huffed; “it is bad enough that she’ll have to change her name when she marries, can we at least agree that she is a Bridgerton now?”

Jane giggled: she had heard this debate many times, her mama was excellent at pushing papa’s buttons when she fancied some amusement and being a proud (‘stuck up’ as Uncle Benedict would whisper) Bridgerton, holding the reins for Lord Featherington, of the Featherington household, this teasing certainly guaranteed some pushback.

Mama made her way to papa and put her arm around him.  “Well you should feel comforted, you know who I was watching for.”’

Oh no.

Papa looked down at her mama and their faces took on a softness.  The children all hated it when that happened- and it happened a lot- it was just so embarrassing to have parents who behaved this way.

The chair ready Papa lifted her, mama helping to keep her leg straight, wrapping a blanket around her as soon as she was settled.  Stepping back, Papa asked her “and are we ready now?”

“Ready, papa?”

“Dear child, did you think we would cancel your birthday plans just because of a small injury? Take a look out of that window Jane!”

Turning her head Jane was just in time to see carriages pulling up outside; Aunt Eloise, Uncle Phillip and her cousins stepped out of one, Uncle Benedict and his family the other.  Grandma Violet, Uncle Gregory with Richard and the Bridgerton House occupants dashed across the square to welcome them.

“We thought it best if Gregory left some of the family at home, this house is large but not that large… seven! One step away from my own mama!”

“Hush husband, we all know how smitten you are with the youngest!”

“Well Colin is a fine name, for a fine baby!”- he grinned, visibly proud of his namesake nephew.

Mama and Papa left to welcome the family, Jane trying her hardest to hear the meaning of the conversations and laughter filtering through from the hall.

Soon enough there were footsteps heading towards her door and she laughed as a rather huge crowd entered, Aggie leading the way with a birthday hat that she placed upon her sister’s head and a rather large cake.  Each branch of the family followed suit, bringing their own hat (mama placed them on her dolls) and gift.  Eloise brought books- papa looked at the titles with a worried expression before sighing in relief and handing her back the collection of Greek myths- Grandma Violet brought sweet treats, Uncle Anthony brought a pall mall mallet- a family tradition for tenth birthdays.  Benedict gave her art supplies and whispered a promise to provide her with something more fun when she was well again: Uncle Gregory brought her a small reticule “now that you are so close to being a grown up young lady, my pretty miss.”

Jane beamed: far from being forgotten her parents had organised so many people and so much company for her, indeed she felt rather guilty for her earlier temper.  She whispered apologies to her papa who just laughed and pulled her close “I’m sure Grandma could tell you many tales of similar in my own childhood.”  Mama leaned over and joined in “and I’m sure I could tell a few myself! I have known your father a very long time…”

Papa looked at mama with a stern face and barked “wife!” before his face crinkled up and they both laughed.

Turning back to her cousins Jane heard a small cough.  “George!” she reached out to her brother, seven year old George, who was stood there with a small basket in his arms.  He stepped forwards and handed it to her, she looked inside with curiosity.

“A kitten!”

“Aunt Kate told us how good you were with the kittens they had last year.”

Jane grinned; they already had a dog but he never seemed to leave Tom’s side, this would be her very own companion.

The whole family stayed with her the rest of the day, disappearing in small groups for breaks and luncheon but always a few there to entertain her.  After her birthday tea Papa had the footmen move a piano to the room, and mama played whilst papa sang, the kitten (now named Kitten Kate in honour of her aunt) curled up asleep on her lap and her beloved cousins sat surrounding her, helping themselves to the seemingly endless cake and biscuits.  As evening fell came the adults shooed the children away to their chambers and headed for the drawing room; Papa walked over to her and squeezed her shoulder as he bent to lift her back into her bed: “don’t grow up too quickly my baby, you are delightful as you are just now”, and she closed her eyes to doze, content.

Chapter Text

The note came just as Violet prepared to climb into bed, exhausted from a day of charity galas and assisting Daphne with her children.  She knew immediately what it would be of course; raising her eyebrows to herself as she folded it and placed it safe in her reticule, she asked the doorman to summon her maid and to send a carriage for the Viscount and Viscountess.  She knew that the accoucheur Knighton had been in attendance, but also that the men frequently double booked and could not be guaranteed to attend when needed.

Her maid assisted her in dressing and she descended the stairs as her eldest son and his wife arrived in their carriage, she gathered her cloak and gloves and joined them. As she glanced at her daughter in law she struggled to hold in a small laugh.

“You have not completely lost your chance yet my dear, it may be early…”

“Mama, do you truly believe that?”

She adored her daughter in law calling her mama, she had so hoped for a warm relationship with all her children’s spouses and so far had not been disappointed.

Violet laughed.  “I do not.  I suppose it is a possibility: I have been told before that a height disparity can cause such things indeed, however…”

The women giggled and Anthony looked between them in a state of confusion.

“Is anybody going to fill me in?”

“We may have had a small bet on whether the child would arrive less than nine months after the wedding. I’m afraid that it would seem likely I’ll prove the victor before the night is out.”

Anthony fixed his wife with a glare.

“I wish you had asked me before risking our blunt; I think the word swiftly was used to describe the betrothal by the man himself, and there was definitely an absence of chaperones in their lives…”

“Still,” Violet replied with a note of concern, “we may yet be dealing with an early child and such a birth is a risky thing.  Let us pray that Colin’s-“. she looked around the carriage, blushing “- enjoyment of temptation is indeed a factor, it would be a much better outcome.”

The journey to Bedford Square was not long, especially with the roads so empty, and Anthony dismissed the carriage as they climbed out, nodding a greeting to Lady Featherington who made her appearance at the same time.  The butler opened the door and the party made its way to the small antechamber outside the birthing room, Colin stepping out to greet them before the women slipped past and into the chamber.  Anthony asked Colin to sit alongside him on the settee placed there.

“Let them get her ready brother, there is little you can do so early.  Is Knighton here yet?”

Colin shook his head; “first baby, dratted man thinks sun up will suffice.”

Anthony nodded.  “He’s probably correct.  Am I to assume from the lack of distress that your lady wife is in fact not delivering an eight month baby…”

Colin met his eyes.  “Assume as you will.”

Anthony relaxed; “thank goodness! That woman is a sister to me.  I know you said the engagement had been swift so I assumed…”

“No indeed! However…”

“Brother?”

“When we spoke on the morn of my betrothal- I may have taken more inspiration from your suggestion that I immediately visit her to tell her my feelings than you intended…”

“Ah.”

They sat quietly for a few minutes; Kate left the room to explain that Penelope had been dressed in her birthing garments and was doing well, that Colin would be able to join them soon but they needed to get her settled and if possible rested first.  He nodded; both the midwife Portia had suggested and the accoucher Anthony had insisted upon had mentioned the possibility of a long and difficult labour due to his wife’s petite frame, any rest she could get now had to be welcomed.

Anthony whispered to the nearest footman and the man left, returning quickly with a tray, glasses and a bottle of brandy; Colin shook his head but Anthony pushed it into his hand.

“Drink it! It is but one drink but it should likely be a long night and it will help.”

Colin sipped and looked at him, face full of anxiety.

“What if I am not enough?”

Anthony placed his glass on the table and looked at him with a smile.  “I think every man has that same worry at this time, Colin.  I certainly did, Simon did.  It is a concern we all have.”

“And?”

“And?”  Anthony drained his glass.  “You will choose to be enough.  Your wife-“ he gestured to the door in front of them “- she will expect you to be enough.  Could you see either of them- Kate or Penelope- allowing us to be anything less?”

Colin gave a low chuckle.  “We do both have formidable women, that is true. “

Anthony raised his eyebrows and nodded, a small grimace crossing his face: Colin wondered what spat he was remembering but thought it best not to ask at this time.

“I can’t help but remember the night Hyacinth joined the family…”

“That night beset my nightmares for years and left me so raddled by nerves that Kate had me thrown out of the birthing chamber until I could calm myself. I am unsurprised that that it concerns you now, of course it does: you love your wife very much.”

“I know you have often been disappointed in me Anthony…”

“Colin that is not…”

“Be quiet, please, hear me out: I know that at times I have been rash or swept along. I would be interested in knowing whether you think I am able for the task ahead if…”

“If?”

“If this is a boy and I am forced to take on the Featherington Estate.”

“Many would see that as a blessing Colin, a rise in status.”

“They may; and in truth in the absence of an heir I have been assisting Portia with the management of the estate as best I can but Anthony, it is a mess.”

“Why did you not ask for help?”

“It is not mine to request and Portia is reluctant- rightly so.  If certain debtors realised…”

“That bad?”

“Less so than six months ago but yes.”

“I have no doubts whatsoever that you would be by far the best candidate to take over the running of the Barony, Colin.  I have met Penelope’s brothers by marriage…”

“They are kindly fellows.”

“They are, but ill suited to such a task whereas you my brother have a decent brain and both Benedict and I to assist, not having seen the ledgers I cannot promise…”

“It is saveable with a few property sales but Portia resists.”

“If you have a son it will not be in her gift to do so, that may be a good thing.”

Colin stood and wandered to the window.

“How long do you think they will keep me outside?”

“A while yet I’d imagine; it moves so slowly at first and they’ll want her to focus on rest whilst she can.”

The younger man nodded and began pacing along the carpet.  “She should have married someone shorter…”

Anthony laughed. “that woman has been in love with you since she was still in her girlhood, she did not want someone shorter- she wanted you. She wanted this-“ he gestured around him.  “This was an always her dream, a family with you.”

“It was so obvious to everyone but me I fear.”

“You saw her when you were ready.”

“I love her so much, Anthony. I am desperate to meet my child but I am terrified…” he drew a hand over his face, bending slightly as if in despair.

“We all feel the same when our wives are in the throes of childbirth brother, it will be well.  Penelope is strong.”

“Perhaps the strongest of us all; if she could take over the Barony..”

Anthony laughed.  “I fear you have spent too much time with Eloise, however…”

“However?”

“I suspect Eloise, Penelope or Kate could all do a much better job than so many Lords of my acquaintance; I suspect our mother could as well.”

“She is formidable.”

Anthony poured himself a second glass of brandy, a cry from the birthing chamber suggested his brother might be called upon sooner than expected so he did not offer him one: he swallowed his drink in one mouthful.

“I know that there have been difficulties between us…”

“You are a fine brother Anthony…”

“Sssh.  You know I am no good at  sentiment!  Colin, of all of us brothers you are by far the best suited to fatherhood.  You are so similar to our father- I know mother sees that- generous, loving, you have a way with children… this baby will be the luckiest child to have you, you must know that.  You were born for this role.”

“I hope it is a girl.”

“You don’t often hear that in the Ton, not when there is a title at stake.”

“Penelope’s sisters are not keen on expanding their families so there is a great chance that the role will one day fall to me, but I should like a chance to be a father before I raise a Baron.”

“I have this idea of you and I sat around a table with our little Lords teaching them how to balance a ledger.”

“That idea can wait for the future, I’d like to focus on lullabies and fairytales.”

“It will be well, Colin, whatever happens.”

Turning, Anthony smiled then nodded towards his wife at the door.  “I think you are wanted brother.”

Kate smiled at her husband.  “I don’t think this one will keep us waiting, come on in Colin, you will be meeting your child before sun up I believe.”

Chapter Text

Penelope woke early; she wasn’t really one for early mornings, neither of them were to be honest, she tried to use the children’s nurse as little as possible, resisting the need for one entirely at first but gradually giving in as the realities of being a rare example of a working mother in the Ton left her exhausted.  By the time Thomas was born, and Colin had to take over the estate, there was no real choice- he’d adored being a parent but it didn’t add up- Barony, writing (she would have hated him to have had to give that up), children, wife that he actually wanted to spend time with (“you know my family Pen, we’re weird, we actually like the people we marry”); they’d talked and talked, she’d cried and he’d raved that he never even wanted the Barony role anyway and they’d tried to lean on Violet and Kate but it was never enough, and so eventually they’d given in, not without a lot of tears.

Gradually the nurse had taken over the mornings, Penelope being used to late nights during her Lady Whistledown era and still being obliged to attend more social events than most young mothers now she was writing for the Queen; she found that she could get more writing done then before Colin darted off to whatever meeting called him that day, eventually friends and family had learned to fit into their routines and somehow it was finally working.

Leaving Colin to sleep she leaned over him and pecked a small kiss on his temple; he smiled in his sleep and made a low noise that spoke of comfort and she beamed back at him - Colin worked hard to show her how much he loved her and she hoped she returned every ounce of that, but it was these small unconscious moments- they way he’d cuddle her in his sleep, the way he made sure the cupboards were stocked with her favourite foods when she had a deadline, the way he followed her around like her own personal security service when she had written about someone with a bit of power or something to hide…

There was a vulnerability to Penelope’s role.  The Queen offered protection and Lady Danbury had been known to all but force someone out of society for threatening her, but the reality was that nobody liked a meddling woman and to most in the Ton that is exactly who she was.  Many pitied Colin for being ‘leg shackled to the upstart writer and a powerless pseudo Lord on top’, quite ignoring his own wonderful achievements with his writing. It had upset him at first but he’d hidden it well and now if anything he invited the comments, always making sure to dance that bit more, declare his love a little bit louder when the gossips started.

Penelope sat to have her maid do her hair and recalled the first time she’d realised how determined Colin was to support her.  It had been a horrid time- the early days of their marriage when she fully expected him to walk away and indeed she had offered an annulment, convinced he would happiest without her- but he’d stayed, and refused the annulment, and when they’d left the Dankworth-Finch ball that night she’d been astounded to climb into their carriage and see, truly see, the extent of his love for her.

This hurt man, this worldwide explorer who’d never quite lost the mama’s boy demeanour no matter how far he travelled, this doting brother to younger and older sibling alike had been ready to give it all up for her. Their carriage was packed to the hilt with their possessions, she climbed in and found there was only the barest amount of space for the two of them as he’d used every spare inch for something.  She’d looked around in confusion and he’d met her eyes with embarrassment- “it is not that I did not believe in you, I just know how the Ton can react…”.  She’d kissed him, for several minutes in fact, and when she came up for air she’d taken his face in her hands and laughed- “where were we even going to go, Colin? Were you just going to drive and see where we ended up?”

She should have known better of course; that wasn’t Colin at all.  Instead he’d pointed to his old battered leather travelling bag and bade her look inside.  The first thing she’d found had been all their letters, tied with new ribbons and he’d blushed and told her to dig deeper.  There she found maps and shipping times, together with a few different itineraries: “I thought you’d want a choice, if we had to run.”

She’d kissed him again and looked deeper- letters of introduction from both Anthony and Simon as peers of the realm, cash (“your money is separate. I will never take that from you,”) then she had realised-

“Colin, this…”

“We could have been out of the country in two hours. Pen- I have only just got you back, I would never- could never- risk losing you again, Queen or no Queen.  Anywhere in the world would be home to me as long as you are there. Pen- you, you are home.”

He’d been crying: she’d seen him cry before and after, she loved how open he was with his emotions when she herself was often buttoned up and reserved but it was only then that she truly saw how far he’d come these last few weeks, how hard he worked to grow so that he was able to meet her where she was rather than asking her to change.

Penelope smiled to herself: today was an emotional day, no doubt there would be many more of these memories, good and bad before it was over.  Dismissing her maid with thanks she returned to chambers and woke Colin so that he could find his valet before they broke fast with their children and set off as a family for Benedict’s wedding.

As they watched their brother waiting for his beautiful bride Penelope pulled Colin down to her level so she could speak quietly.  “We made such a mess of this when it was our turn, didn’t we, my love?”

“Did we, truly? Mere weeks of upset to build what we have now?”

“The wedding day itself though … you were so angry…”

Colin bent at the knees to lower himself to her level.  “I remember feeling my heart burst when I saw you at the end of that aisle… I remember the world disappearing as you danced with me… I remember you nodding as you walked towards me and feeling as if the whole world was tied up in that small gesture, that it might take time but I would find a way through for you because I would do anything for you…”

“Do you think Benedict and Sophie will be as happy as us?”

Colin looked over to where Benedict was staring nervously at the entrance.

“I do, it’s the Bridgerton way is it not? When we fall we only fall for the most wonderful of people, and so we fall harder…”

“Not harder than I, my love.”

“You’d be surprised my Penelope, don’t think I’ve even begun to show you how much I adore you… that will take this lifetime and quite possibly a few more after.”

Penelope went to reply, to make her own declarations but stopped short as she heard her husband give a loud yelp.

“Colin?”

“He- he poked me!” He turned and pointed at a smirking Anthony, expression outraged.

“The bride is here, were you going to spend the entire wedding making eyes at each other? How long have you been wed now?”

Colin laughed and fixed his brother with a direct look.  “I plan to spend the rest of my life making eyes at my wife. It seems a very wise plan indeed.”

Kate laughed. “A sound choice indeed dear brother but perhaps wait until after the ceremony?”

Colin indicated his brother staring at his fiancée as she made her way to him.  “Do you think he sees anything except Sophie right now?”

They all turned and watched, husband squeezing wife’s hand and wife leaning into husband as every couple in attendance remembered their own love story and wedding day. Darting his eyes around to check attention was elsewhere Colin leaned down to Penelope:

”I hope they’re as happy as we have been and I really hope they have a much better wedding night!”

Penelope laughed and elbowed him. “Why do you think I really agreed to the nursery nurse? That will take you a lifetime to make up for” and she winked at him before taking her seat. 

Chapter Text

They hadn’t been away from the children for this long before, not that one could call them children any more: George was now in his first year at Eton, a time they had both found hard with him being the baby of the family- they had wanted more children but it simply had never happened.  Thomas was running the estate for a time, assisted by both Edmund and his cousin August, both heirs themselves, and overlooked by Anthony and Simon.  It had seemed a good step in their education- barring tragedy the date Thomas would take over was set in stone but as Anthony was well aware the other two could be asked to step up at any moment- and now had been an opportune time to test their education.  Jane was staying with Eloise, and Aggie-

Aggie was nearby.

They had been at Aubrey Hall for three weeks; near, but also far enough that they could enjoy being with each other.  Colin had married unusually early for his peer group, men of his station rarely marrying until they were close to, or in, their thirties.  When Thomas had been born 21 years of the Barony had felt like a lifetime to the 25 year old, with only retirement and old age at the other side.  Now, however, 46 was neither far away or any real age at all- Anthony and Benedict had both passed that, indeed Simon had been blessed with a surprise baby at the age of 45, a future Colin did not wish for (Penelope’s pregnancy with George being somewhat traumatic even at the age of 26) but did make him realise that he may well yet have many years ahead to spend with his wife.  Violet had also taken to reminding him of this on a regular basis- that they’d been blessed with children as soon as they had married (his mother would cough knowingly and laugh at this point and he would roll his eyes and mutter “here we go again”) and that they would have to take their old friendship and form that into something new when the children were gone.

The three weeks had been lovely; they’d travelled to see Aggie once a week and been on perpetual alert throughout but they had taken time to enjoy each other.  Now it was time for them to move on again, to stay with Aggie and her husband at the Coleman estate, her due date only a week away.

Penelope would be attending the birth along with Samuel’s mother Beatrice, both had fortunately become good friends along the way, she knew not how Colin would entertain himself during the delivery itself but suspected it would involve many miles paved, much pressure on any surgeon or midwife in attendance and very probably a complete decimation of the estate larders.

That was not Penelope’s problem.  She had learned early on that he was a clever and responsible man at heart, she was able to leave him to find his own way through challenges when needed- perhaps that was a result of his travels, far too few of her acquaintances held their husbands in similar esteem.

They were the first of the family to become grandparents, the siblings who had married at a similar time both having boys first, but she knew with the vast numbers of Bridgerton grandchildren that many would follow, Violet had already joked that they would have to hire a palace from the royals themselves if they planned for future gatherings- Penelope was quietly hoping to end her social writing shortly, breaking her links with the royals, but Anthony had already started to look into the idea.

It has been a pleasant sojourn in the countryside, helping them fix upon a similar location themselves for when they sought their next home.  They were in a strange position seeking the equivalent of a dower house together, only Colin’s dear friend Mondritch having prior experience and he had taken the opposite choice, moving from Kent back to the city where he quietly funded and managed a club in the name of an associate. Penelope planned to focus on writing novels and joining Colin on his travels, Colin initially suggesting a trip to the states until he realised Jane might meet a husband out there and he be forced to choose between children and continents: instead they were looking at Prussia to start.

The carriage to take them to the Coleman estate just an hour away set off as planned, both excitedly chattering about their dreams with the new grandchild and their anxieties about Aggie.  They were greeted on arrival by Samuel who informed them that Aggie had taken herself off for a walk with her maid, Colin immediately setting off to find them whilst Penelope settled in and took tea with Beatrice.

They had been there three days before Aggie started in Labour; a maid quietly waking her mother in the early morning, a note left for Colin to save waking him.  There was little to do at first- Aggie was helped to wash and dress, then the women sought to entertain her when her pains were still infrequent and mild, encouraging her to sleep as she could.  Colin enjoyed scandalising the staff with a visit mid morning, laughing at the visible shock on their faces and taking Samuel away for a much needed break and luncheon before returning his son in law with a message that he had business nearby to attend to but to send word if he was needed before sun down.

He was not, in fact, needed and had dined with his wife in the evening before dining again (Colin had not changed much with age) with Beatrice after his wife returned to the chambers.  A surgeon visited at sundown to reassure them that the new mother was progressing well if not quickly,  and the staff changed shifts muttering about ‘their poor lady’ and the cruel hardships of being a woman.

Penelope sent a message to Colin at 3am that night suggesting he might like to dress and prepare himself; Colin had been there in minutes, Penelope joining him to explain that Aggie was close and doing well but very tired and had repeatedly asked to see her papa.  Beatrice and the surgeon had vetoed the idea as beyond the bounds of propriety and Penelope had agreed with them, knowing full well that the minute she relayed this to Colin he would ignore them all completely: quietly she smiled as he pushed open the door and and went to his eldest daughter, grasping her hand and kissing her knuckles.

Aggie’s mother in law reacted with shocked protests only to be roundly dismissed: “ssssh woman, I will be gone in a minute, panic not” and Samuel laughed, well used to Colin’s behaviour by now (he had actually told Penelope that he hoped to emulate the parenting of his father in law but she had not yet passed that on to her husband, knowing he would preen and only get in the way as a result).

Colin had them left them to it, tutting loudly at the looks from Aggie’s staff and family, winking at Samuel and Penelope as he walked out, and Aggie progressed rapidly- years later she would say that the time with both her parents had relaxed her and made her feel strong against the exhaustion- delivering a daughter, Madeleine, as the sun rose.

Penelope slept most of the following day, exhausted from the long hours and distress of seeing her beloved firstborn in pain.  Samuel too had to sleep for a short time, having refused to leave Aggie’s side (“have you noticed our daughter chose a husband to mirror her coddling father?” Penelope mused, as Colin glowed with pride).  When Penelope woke it was to find a quiet room with her daughter dozing and husband quietly rocking the newborn, singing lullabies in a way that took her back two decades to Aggie’s own birth.

Allowing Penelope to cuddle her grandchild for a moment he pulled her out of the room, wishing to show her the business he had completed the day before.

“A home?” Penelope asked in shock; “should I not have been informed of this?”

“Would you have preferred it if I had made myself a pest in my anxiety? This seemed much more productive.  Look! Finally a home chosen by us-“

“You, my love,” Penelope sighed.

“-me, I admit, although it needs some renovations so you shall get a large say- a house that we can name, decorate as we choose; that was chosen not by my brother as a wedding gift or as an unwanted inheritance..”

“…still?”

“but for us and our future.  Look, wife! Just three miles from Madeleine and Aggie! Less than an hour from Aubrey Hall! And even better…”

“Colin?”

“Thomas is selling your old country estate.  None of you liked it and he will use the funds to purchase something closer to here, so that the Featheringtons can be closer and off season be shared…”

“You willingly chose to bring my mother nearer to us?”

He laughed; “nothing is perfect my love,”: reality was that both Violet and Portia were elderly now, having Portia close would be a good thing and they still had access to Featherington House to be near Violet at number 5.  They wouldn’t be taking up full residency for a few years yet, after all.

Penelope looked at the paperwork. “I presume you have a name for this new property?”

Colin nodded, with a smirk.  His wife sighed.

“Let me guess…”

“I’m sure you’ll be correct..”

“What are we calling it, a manor?”

“I think a cottage my love, it is not so grand as all that.”

“Colin’s Cottage sounds well but I assume you would not opt for that…”

“No indeed, we share.”

“So Bridgerton Cottage then?”

“Finally! A home with my name after so many years of handling houses and estates in my mother in law’s line…”

“My line too my love!”

“You, my dear, are all Bridgerton as you very well know! I have finally managed to claim the best of the Featherington legacy for my family! Title, heir, home and the very best woman they had.”

“I do not know whether to swoon or send you to Bedlam.”

“Both?”  He laughed before pulling her to sit upon his lap.

“I apologise for making the decision without you but I had to occupy myself somehow and I did not wish to be a burden.  I hope you are happy? May I show you in a few days?”

Penelope kissed him and stood to return to her daughter.

“I remember the last time you were this efficient: a wife, home and child secured in just 12 hours!” She smiled and he let out a loud guffaw at the memory.  “Join us for dinner, Colin; I believe you have letters to write to our families, with much news indeed. I am sure your mother will wish to visit and we know she does not travel easily these days.”

“I will just say an adieu to our daughter and granddaughter then I will do as you suggest.  Come wife, let us go and spoil the next generation.”

Chapter Text

It had been a busy autumn, Penelope supervising both the pack up of their possessions for the move to what had, despite the sign on the gate, become known as Colin’s Cottage and the pack up of the ancestral summer estate, Colin and Thomas overseeing the readiness of the new Featherington Manor purchased close to both his parents and his elder sister and niece.  Thomas had reached 21 and his majority a year before and after the promised handover support was now taking on the full role alone- or had planned to: a week before his parents were to move out he announced his engagement to Clara Cho, planning a wedding in the new home before a honeymoon abroad.

Penelope had looked at her husband in horror as this was announced at the engagement party; she had often teased him about his reluctant care for the Barony and excitement for new travels but she had very much wanted it for him- Colin’s mask did not slip during the event but she caught his eyes a few times and she could see the sadness there, she made a point of staying at his side and squeezing his hand so he would know that she saw his disappointment and understood.

She managed to pull him aside for a few minutes, holding him and then whispering that she had a secret for someone else but she was going to break trust and tel him- he looked at her in confusion.  “It is not certain yet but Aggie thinks she may be increasing again; perhaps it would not be so bad to delay, briefly, my love?”  Colin had let out a shuddering sigh into her throat, bent at such an angle in order to be as close to her as possible.

“It never seems to be the right time.”

“It will be. Have faith.”

“Thank you my love.”

The move had gone well- this was the first weekend they were hosting in the new cottage, Portia staying with them and Prudence with her family in the little gamekeeper’s cottage they had kitted out for guests, knowing that most would be hosted in the big house with Thomas or Aubrey Hall with all the homes being so close.   

Penelope and Colin had been called away on business  when Portia’s carriage arrived and Prudence had settled her in her rooms, Portia had been living with Prudence this last year as her health failed.  Penelope and Colin dashed up to greet her.

“Mama- it is so…”

“Penelope! Here you are!” Portia turned, “but with that Bridgerton boy again? And no chaperone? Penelope! You shall be quite ruined! He is no more your friend than I am Catherine The Great.”

“Mama! We…”

Colin squeezed her hand and shook his head.

“You must go home Mr Bridgerton, Penelope go to your room, I shall deal with you later.”

“Yes mama.”

Stepping outside the room Colin pulled her into a tight hug as she shook for a moment then stepped back and looked at him.  “What was that?”

“I know they’re aging and my mama is reliant on her bath chair herself now, I have heard of such things but…”

Penelope nodded.  “I believe the Dowager Finch had some memory issues, perhaps we should speak to Philippa?”

“I think we need both your sisters, and Thomas.  I shall ask him to ready rooms for them at the Manor if you could write to them asking them to visit?”

Penelope nodded.  “We should speak to Prudence.”

Colin asked for tea to be laid out in the garden and requested that Prudence and her husband join them.  He explained the incident and Prudence slumped in her chair.

“That has not happened before, perhaps it is confusion at the new address but…”

“Prudence it is fine, please tell us.” Penelope smiled at her sister.

“There have been a few occasions where she has behaved a little…”

Her husband placed a hand on her shoulder “she has been decidedly odd.”

Prudence explained that she had been found in their garden seeming disorientated and had taken to keeping her jewellery and at times pieces of cutlery in her bag “in case the servants steal it.”

“Oh mama” Penelope murmured in a low voice, a few tears escaping: Colin wiped them away.

“I know this seems selfish,” Prudence said, “but I am glad you have seen-  she is still usually so able and I feared nobody would believe us…”

“We would, but I can understand.”

Penelope and Colin finished their tea before heading back to Portia’s room and knocking on the door nervously.

“Oh there you are Penelope, and your husband- I swear he grows more handsome every day! It must the Bridgerton blood! Is there to be tea soon?”

“We shall organise it now mama, we were just checking you were well settled.”

“Of course I am, the new cottage is delightful: I’m surprised it has taken you this long to greet me though!”

Colin and Penelope glanced at each other.

“Yes mama.  Would you like to join us in the garden?”

“I shall be down presently.”

Penelope and Colin made their way down the stairs, pensive.  She had seemed so much brighter, her normal touchy self indeed but they could not shake the memory of the morning.

“Are you aware of the irony?” Penelope asked, breaking the silence.

“My love?”

“All those years we used to run around together she never once asked where my chaperone was.  The Catherine The Great barb is one I remember her using after I termed you a friend…”

Colin pulled his wife closer.  “I should have had you out of that house much earlier…” she laughed.  “You had a home settled the morning of our engagement, you challenged her ideas of me instead of asking for permission to marry me- how could you have done that?”

“Perhaps if I had stayed in England I might have…”

“and you would not be the man I love, my husband.  Without your letters and journals would we have even made it this far?”

“Most certainly, I needed time to grow up but I am not blind.”

“You needed time to recover from what my cousin did to you Colin! You cannot feel bad for that, you had to learn to trust yourself again- I am still astounded that you took a risk on a Featherington again- and then you ended up…”

“Well let us not talk about that, she did and I did but I was able to…and here we are, with such a life neither of us could dream of.”

“You dreamed of being in a carriage bound for Prussia.”

“I dreamed of it with you, Pen: the time is not right with Aggie and duty and your mama but it will come…”

Portia seemed well during tea, if a little anxious.  Colin noted that she slipped a scone into her reticule with a fork and determined to ask her maid to retrieve them later, but she conversed well about her grandchildren and the new engagement, expressing her surprise that Thomas was settling so young.

“Thomas and Clara are about as big a surprise as Penelope and I were, at least to my own family,” Colin said with a snort.

Portia looked stricken, staring at her plate.

“I cannot…”

“Mama?” Hurrying over, Penelope held her hand.  Portia began to cry- something Penelope had never seen before.

“I cannot recall your betrothal my dear, or your nuptials.  I seem… I seem to be struggling of late.”

“Oh mama, we know.”  Penelope stood and hugged her mama’s head to her.  “We will look after you, I promise.”

Colin watched his wife in awe: this woman had neglected her, belittled her and still she showed so much care. He had given her repeated opportunities to walk away from her entirely over the years, he would continue to do so indeed,  but so far she had chosen not to.

It took Philippa and Albion a few days to reach them, but it wasn’t long before the Featherington women were assembled with their husbands and their Baron.  Colin looked amongst them, proud of his family by marriage: none of them had been given good role models and all had taken shaky paths, whether it was emulating their mother’s behaviour or setting up underground businesses close to treason to give themselves a sense of autonomy- but each had found happiness and grown into their own personalities over the years.  He knew they could handle this latest blow between them.

Penelope explained the situation, how Portia’s confusion seemed magnified by her strange surroundings and how the matriarch had admitted her struggles, with some upset.  Prudence broke down in tears, her husband Robert’s arms around her, as she admitted that she had been finding it increasingly difficult to ignore her mother’s decline and occasionally aggressive mood swings; nobody present was surprised at that, if Portia was going to take this path it seemed guaranteed that her already brittle personality would become a challenge.

Thomas’s role was easy: he was quickly able to sanction funds from the estate for a professional nurse for his grandmama, it did not seem fair that Prudence and Robert should shoulder that alone when they were already housing her- Robert was grateful, he’d already witnessed the emotional toll on his wife but she had refused his offers to hire extra staff, their fortune being much smaller than either the Penelope and Colin Bridgerton combined coffer or the Baron’s now thriving income.

Tea with the women he had come to know, against all expectations, as his bonus sisters was sad and necessarily muted but together they talked and found ways to ease the pressures on Prudence and give Portia a sense of safety.  They realised that it was unfair on Portia to expect her to travel to places she was unfamiliar with and arranged to swap homes with Prudence and Robert for a week every few months so they could take over, Philippa and Albion offering the same.  Gradually they formulated a plan that shared the work and utilised the resources they had.

Under cover of darkness that night, curled up in their shared bed,  Colin and Penelope talked- about engagements, possible new grandchildren, but also the age of their mothers and the inevitability of their eventual loss.  Colin vowed to take tea with Kate in the next few weeks and really ask about his mother’s health and care, knowing that if Prudence had tried to be stoic Kate and Anthony were even more likely to take that path.  Penelope vowed silently to herself that she would find a way to enable Colin to have his big trip, even if it were delayed a little.  They talked about how difficult the next few years were likely to be but also how lucky they were that the family that had been so broken during Penelope’s childhood had grown together, and could support each other.

Chapter Text

Colin woke, groaned and pulled his head back under the blankets.  Laughing, his wife pulled them back down, tucking them under his chin and shimmering close.

“You can’t avoid it Colin, it is an inevitability.”

He groaned, “I can ignore it though, if you don’t pester me,” and rolled over.  She followed him, tucking her head into his back as he lay dejected.

“Come on my dear, there are worse things that can happen…”

He rolled and tried to glower at her, she laughed again.

“I thought we’d agreed that you’ll never have a properly intimidating look, you’re the teddy bear in this marriage.”

“Only because I can’t compare with you, terrifying harridan that you are.”

He grumped, she laughed; he insulted, she laughed some more.

“I knew you would be a child this morn,  I had underestimated just how mean spirited a child that would be.”

“Can I not just stay abed this day?”

“Certainly not, we have a full programme of activities.”

“None of which can be completed from my bed?”

“I wouldn’t say none exactly, we can always start…”

He rolled over towards her and she positively melted; his hair was fully grey now and he required glasses but goodness he was still beautiful, looking like a professor from an esteemed university as much as the child she’d fallen for all that time ago.

An hour later the valet knocked and entered, followed by her maid. “Are we ready ma’am?”

“We are; is all ready your end?”

The valet looked at Colin, wording his reply carefully: “quite ready.”

The staff had pulled baths and placed them in their respective dressing rooms, the house was otherwise silent- it had been a time of rapid change, the loss of both their mothers, Jane travelling to the West Country with her duke husband a few years into what had been a planned blue stocking spinsterhood, Aggie delivering another daughter and a son and Thomas gifting them with twin grandsons.  Even George was settled at Oxford now, planning to depart on his tour the moment he graduated

The family awaited them at Aubrey Hall, a gathering of some substantial size with so very many grandchildren and spouses; Thomas had welcomed the Featherington side into his home to relieve the pressures on accommodation, an unknown for a country estate that had hosted so many house parties over the years.

Benedict stood outside to greet them, his latest grandbaby in arms: Colin jumped from the carriage and snatched the child, Benedict laughing as he did so- Colin was rarely seen at gatherings of any kind without a baby or toddler about him, he positively rejoiced in the size of the newest generation, and had not lost any of his energy.

“Brother! Slow down, you are too old to go jumping about like that!”

Colin groaned, “Benedict, you are older than me…”

“Yes but it still seems a strange thing to know that my younger brother is now fifty! Come, Kate has laid out a spectacular celebration, happy birthday!”

As Colin followed his sibling Penelope looked behind to see the second of their carriages pull in; she nodded to the occupants and they returned the gesture: all set.

The whole family was in attendance and Penelope watched as Colin’s mood visibly improved, juggling plates of food, cake, grandnephews and nieces and talking to the younger of Gregory’s many children.  Francesca played as Colin sang, and his foul mood was replaced by contentment and joy, his social nature truly blooming in the happy atmosphere.

The party went on into the early hours, raucous singing being replaced with quiet chats amongst grown ups around the fire: where once spouses had felt slightly apart from the siblings they’d now all been in the family so long that distinctions had completely faded.  Hyacinth and Gregory bickered in a corner whilst their spouses exchanged looks and shook their heads in amusement, Amanda and Oliver- now only a few years from forty themselves- sat with Kate discussing ideas for Daphne’s fiftieth the following year- peace reigned but a joyous peace, they acknowledged the absence of their beloved mother but remained thankful that every one of them was present and well, a lucky thing indeed.

The following morning Penelope woke Colin early, “our carriage awaits my dear.”  Confused he allowed the valet to dress him, before breaking fast, increasingly bemused by the number of family already dressed at this early hour.  Penelope led him towards their carriage where a gathering of all the attendees stood, clutching coats and shawls.

“We are only an hour away wife,” Colin whispered; “is this not excessive?”

Penelope laughed and told him to wish his family adieu as she prepared to climb into the carriage. Aggie joined them, slightly weepy and Colin became concerned- hugging her daughter Penelope pulled Colin into the carriage: “it is time.”

They waved as they left and Colin looked on in confusion as the family’s second vehicle started to follow them down a path towards London and away from their cottage.

“Pen?”

“Had you not noticed that I had yet to give you my gift?”

“I had not; pray tell.”

Penelope handed Colin a familiar now worn leather bag and a long brown coat. He met her eyes with a smile and questioning expression.  She leaned over to kiss him.

“I promised you I would get you to Prussia my love, happy birthday.  The children have promised me that no grand babies are currently expected and we shall be back in nine months so in time for any more, finally you get the honeymoon you deserved.”

“I have had the whole life I dreamed of, not at all deserved.”

“Shh husband, we’re a bit old for carriage activities now, restrain the romantic comments before I forget!”

“Never too old but perhaps not on the road to London in broad daylight.” His eyes twinkled in a way that reminded her of so many high days and happy events in their time together so far- betrothals and babies, butterfly balls and honeymoon trips.  She sighed: she was a lucky woman indeed.

Colin pulled her over to him and held her close.  “You are smiling, what has made you happy?”

“I was just thinking that if I could only tell that miserable, yellow clad wallflower half of the life we have had so far with hopefully many more years to come- she would think it a fairytale.”

“I wish the lonely lost boy could have known there was so much love only a few years away, but it has all been so very worth it.”

Penelope bade Colin open his bag and he found a selection of maps, smiling he spread one in the opposite seat and started to explain the journey.

Penelope watched him grow in his excitement, grateful that her surprise has been so warmly received: there had been joy in balls and their many youthful escapades, marriage had been full of beauty and love, for each other but also babies and grandchildren- now it was their time and she was going to seize every precious minute with this beautiful, wonderful man and ensure he knew just how very loved he was.

Chapter Text

The family in the little cottage slumbered peacefully, the midsummer sun had been up for some time but even the children lay abed, the sea air leaving them exhausted and allowing their parents, travelling without a nurse, a brief respite.  Seagulls screamed overhead and house staff moved quietly, opening windows before the heat of the day became overwhelming.

Colin’s arms snaked around his wife and pulled her closer to him, a happy hum as she snuggled into his chest.  Placing a kiss on the top of her head he remarked sleepily that it was very strange not to have been awakened yet- had she considered a permanent move to the coast? Laughing she wriggled against him, “if you keep kissing and holding me like this they’re bound to wake!”.  Colin pulled her even closer- worth a try,  surely?

It was another hour before they finally heard the patter of feet heading their way, Penelope pulling the blankets up to make space beside her as little George padded his way into their room, thumb in mouth and pulling his beloved ‘horsey’ toy on a string behind.  He held his arms out to his mama who lifted him up into the bed.  He snuggled beside her for a minute before his face split into a giant smile.

“Papa?”

Penelope nodded, Colin winced.

“Yes sweetie, Papa is here.  Next to me, see?”

George raised himself to a sitting position, Colin tensed knowing what coming- pulling himself into a ball George screeched “Papa!” as he launched himself towards his father, landing heavily on his chest.

“Oof!”

Penelope giggled as Colin’s breath was pushed out of him: they were in their second week in this cottage, borrowed from Colin’s sister Daphne, and George had ‘surprised’ Colin this way in every single morning.

It was a delight.

Tangling the sheets badly as they rolled around tickling each other, Colin eventually pulled his youngest son out as he rose to a standing position and headed towards the door.  “Come along young man! Shall we go see what treats we might find to begin our morning of adventures?”  George cheered, knowing that if papa was the first up breakfast would consist of hot chocolate and cake rather than the porridge his mama usually tried to feed him (Penelope had, in fact, not requested the staff procure porridge at all this trip but George was too young to understand that). 

Alone in the now quiet room Penelope rang for her maid, slipping her feet into slippers and wrapping her floral robe about her shoulders.  Days like this were a joy but also tinged with sadness as they had been warned that any more children would be a risk after a difficult birth with her youngest: at the time of their marriage she and Colin had hoped for a family the size of the one he grew up in but it was not to be- although they had so many nieces and nephews to dote on that they doubted there would ever be a real shortage of babies and children in their lives, Gregory had recently become betrothed as the last to marry so she was certain that there were probably one or two more to come at least.

As she made her way down after dressing she heard laughter coming from the drawing room- the other children must be up and dressed, her own lady’s maid assisting the two daughters whilst Thomas readied himself.  Collecting a plate of food- she smiled to herself to see the fruit platter untouched and the cake and biscuit plates almost empty- she made her way to join them, Aggie just about to sit at her daily pianoforte practice as  Colin and Thomas prepared to sing, her eldest son inheriting his father’s love of a joyful tune.

It was not typical for them to travel this way, usually they would either take a long trip for Colin to gather material for his writing or spend the summer in the country- occasionally at the family house but more often at Aubrey Hall, where they both felt more comfortable.  Colin had been slightly melancholy about George’s early days passing so quickly however, so they had determined to spend a month in Devon, just enjoying their growing family.  Anthony and his wife Kathani had taken one of their honeymoons in Devon and recommended the destination. 

Penelope ate her repast and sang along, interspersing nursery rhymes for George with the more traditional songs Aggie was learning to play now.  Once finished she fetched her lightest shawl and a bonnet and they headed out to promenade, George and Jane excited about the ducks they would see on the Promenade through Dawlish with its brook and fine lawn.  Turning right as they left the grassy area they came upon the sands: Penelope fished a small linen bag from her reticule and passed it to the three older children, who immediately ran off to fill it with shells.  They had taken the carriage to visit the rock pools on a nearby beach yesterday, and planned to travel to explore Teignmouth tomorrow, but today they were staying close to the cottage.  Colin had spotted a tea room he wished to try on the way back, having fallen in love with the local clotted cream,  and Penelope knew even the older children would be delighted to wash their haul of shells from the last few days and spend a few hours attempting to identify them from the guide she had purchased.

Eventually, after some hours, they returned to the cottage, requesting a picnic in the garden with the children as the cooler evening air brought refreshment.  Aggie and Thomas lay on blankets reading whilst Jane sketched with the en plein air set her Uncle Benedict had gifted her and both George and Colin snored happily alongside her, Colin using her lap as a pillow and George his father’s as she tried to find an angle that allowed to use her little portable writing desk to catch up on her correspondence with her sisters and Eloise: they would be visiting Eloise for a week before they returned home, and she was excited to see her old friend if not so much by the giggly pun sharing the two men would indulge in, she noted that if it had been her and Eloise she would have been laughed at for her blue stocking ways, instead they were merely scientific or academic: Colin was many things including a gifted writer and someone able to identify strongly and share feeling with anyone who crossed his path, but academic? The man couldn’t sit still long enough to study a lesson, had been the bane of his tutors as a child.

Penelope wriggled out from under her husband and gathered George into her arms for a bath and bedtime story, as she passed Jane she glanced at the easel and saw she had sketched the happy tableau in detail: she leaned down and asked her to keep the picture carefully, resolving that she would ask Benedict to arrange to frame it for her husband. 

Chapter Text

Penelope had gone to her mama’s.

Not that this was a rare occurrence, Colin thought: she frequently popped into the dower house for afternoon tea or a simple gathering with her sisters, and when she wasn’t there Portia would often be found in Featherington Hall, finding reasons why every economy he suggested was impossible or (his most hated), inelegant.  He had sisters enough to know that wearing the same dress to two balls was simply not done, nobility enough in his blood to understand that being part of the Ton was a game and that the wrappings, outfits and riches were the hand they showed those who formed both their community and their competition-but a new cloak just to visit Philippa? A gown embellished with crystals for a lunch with Prudence’s mother in law who had retired from society so would not have seen anything already in her wardrobe? That was before the spending on her other daughters and their husbands, the frankly ludicrous suggestion that she (and therefore Colin trying to assist her, and his possible future son should he have an heir) purchase a phaeton for Mr. Dankworth purely so that the family’s existing coach could be reserved for her exclusive use when visiting- something that happened approximately twice a year.

Colin sighed: his mind was wandering.

Yes Penelope often visited her mother but this time was different- for a start they were at Aubrey Hall and a visit meant a four hour carriage ride when she was already uncomfortable, with a return tomorrow if she intended to attend his mother’s garden party.

If.

Of course Colin was working on the assumption she did intend to return, he thought, spiralling- what if she had left him? He knew it was a miracle that such a woman had ever agreed to wed him at all, and then stay by his side after those turbulent early weeks, but what if she had given up and realised he was simply not worthy?

Of course he wasn’t, how could he be? It was impossible.

She had not clarified her intentions, simply closing the door rather harshly behind her after announcing that she was away to her mama’s.  Perhaps he should go after her?  He walked to the window and stared out at the summer downpour, knowing that it would be unwise to give chase either in a carriage or on horseback, especially  one of Anthony’s horses that he wouldn’t know as well as his own.

But then, it was a deluge and she was out in this, alone…

Pacing his room Colin ran his hand through his curls, increasingly building towards a panic.  What if he’d lost her? What if he’d lost them- Penelope was almost eight months pregnant with their first child, although the Ton of course believed it to be closer to six and a half.  What if she went into labour all alone in that carriage?

Grabbing his brown leather travel coat Colin started to walk towards the door; he wasn’t sure quite what he intended to do- Anthony’s footmen would be reluctant to agree to him using their coach in this weather and he suspected the groom would shoo him away altogether- but he had to be moving, he had to be doing something: she had gone, she had left him, she was in danger and he was just sat there in the chamber.

The family were mostly away at this hour, a party of ladies having gone into the village to acquire trinkets and most of the men had accompanied them, as he stormed out of the door however a large hand  reached out to grasp him by the shoulder.

“Brother: are you quite alright?”

No, he thought; of course he wasn’t alright!

“”She- she’s left me Benedict!” he gasped out, “I have to go and find her! She’s not safe…the rain…”

Benedict looked at his terrified face and immediately recalled the Colin of yesteryear, the small boy who’d try so hard to serve them all until he became overwhelmed and sure of his imminent failure; the young man whose fiancée had been revealed as with a child that was not his; the shy 12 year old pretending equanimity towards rapidly approaching boarding school so soon after the death of their father…

Benedict saw all those Colins, and  he knew that he was needed.

“Brother, before you dash out on this charming day-“ they both glared towards the windows and the heavy grey skies “- do me the favour of joining me for a cup of tea will you?”

“I have to go, Benedict…”

“Ten minutes. You can spare that.”

Placing an arm around Colin’s shoulder and directing him towards the study Benedict leaned over towards the nearest footman.  “Mother, if she’s available, please- if not then Francesca but preferably mother - and then tea, please.” The man nodded his assent and dashed off.

Benedict pulled out a chair and indicated that Colin should sit before taking a seat opposite him.  “Your wife would not leave you Colin.  Penelope is not a flighty type and quite clearly adores you.”

Violet opened the door and slipped in, joining them at the table and leaning forwards.

“What is happening?”

“Penelope has left me.”

Seeing that Colin was staring at his own lap in desolation, Benedict felt safe shaking his head and mouthing “she has not” to his mama, who looked confused but leaned in some more.

“That doesn’t sound like your wife, Colin.  What happened?”

“She has gone, simply that.  She has taken our carriage in this dreadful weather, in her- um” he coughed “seventh month.  She has gone to the Dowager Featherington’s home to get away from me.”

The tea arrived and Violet poured them each a cup.

Benedict met his eyes.  “What did you do?”

“Nothing! She has been- difficult of late- but I complimented her, then she sat for a while as we read, then simply rose and said she was going, closing the door rather heavily.”

“I heard the slam, I assumed it was Hyacinth.”

Violet sighed. “It is not unusual for women in later stages of pregnancy to feel a little emotional Colin, and I know that Penelope is usually a model of calm so that must look worse from your perspective, but you must have done something?”

“No! I….. no.”

“Colin?”

“It was a week ago! She has not mentioned it since.”

“Since?”

He placed his cup and saucer on the tray.  “I purchased some baby clothes.  I know it is considered bad luck but I was excited, surely that is understandable? I have wished to be a father for so long… and now she is gone…”

“She doesn’t seem to be the superstitious type.”

“It wasn’t that, they were…”

Colin covered his face and exhaled.  “Yellow.”

Violet sucked her breath in, shocked.

“How could you?”

“I like yellow! It reminds me of her, of our youth…”

“It reminds her of being ridiculed and bullied, Colin! All her insecurities!”

“I know mama. I know.  Eloise made it very clear indeed.”

Benedict stood.  “Now we’re getting there.  Anything else, brother?”

Colin shook his head. “No! In fact I had just told her how beautiful she looked right now.”

“Did you use that word?”

Colin groaned, crossing his arms in front of his chest.  “No.”

“Colin…”

“I am trying! You know how mama was! It took nothing…”

Violet fixed him with a look and Benedict gave a low chuckle, almost awed. “Brave.  Is this the diplomacy that saw your wife rush to a different county to be rid of you?”

Violet stared at him, a challenge in her eyes.  “So pray, tell your brother and I how you worded it, we are all ears…”

“I said she was wonder…” he paused.

“Colin…”

He gave in, looking defeated.  “I said she was wonderfully round and that in another few weeks I would be able to roll her around the house.”

Violet and Benedict both gasped in shock.

“You idiot.  You have done some truly stupid things in your time…”

“Telling your now wife that she was not a woman, she was ‘Pen’?”  Violet suggested. Benedict eyed him.

“Really?”

“No! Well yes, but there was context…”

Benedict stepped up. “Announcing to the entire Ton that he’d never date Penelope Featherington…”

“Common sense of a ferret, my third son,” Violet said before taking a sip of tea.  Colin and Benedict both winced.

“Marina.”

All three looked up in shock to where Francesca had slipped in unnoticed.  She shrugged.

“Well? That was just poor decision making from the start.  Eloise told me all about it: how you openly courted Marina in front of Penelope, ditched her at balls to dance with her, ignored her attempts at warning you about Portia’s machinations.. then announced the betrothal in public after allowing her to trap you in a closed room. It took your wife herself to rescue you, then you moped for two years.”

“Fifteen months, maximum. “

“As if that helps.”

“I do not know what to do; I cannot lose her.”

“She said she was leaving you?”

“Well no, she said she was going to her mama’s but…”

All three of his interrogators relaxed at once.  “So she has gone to her mama’s, Colin.  You may give chase if she is not back for the party but she will be- her mama herself is due at the event.”

“You believe she will return?”

“Did she take anything?”

“A cloak, her reticule…”

“She will return.  You will spend the next few months making up for this I am certain but she will be back.”

Violet looked at her sensitive young man with some sympathy.  “Colin- this will likely happen again, it is a difficult time for Penelope. You must be careful what you say but also you must be ready to hold her and just forgive her when she returns.  It is your role as future father.”

“I will, of course.”

Violet and Fran reached to give him a small hug and left the room together, their guests being due to return.  Benedict reached into Anthony’s drawers and retrieved the brandy.

“When Daph was expecting, sometimes we would find Simon at Whites in a not dissimilar frame of mind to you now Colin, it is the price we pay as men  for avoiding the difficulties the women we love must endure to give us children, an heir.”

“It is brutal.  First the sickness, now the moods, and soon the pain…”

“How long has she got left? Four weeks?”

Colin sat up straight.  “No, it’s…”

“Did you know I briefly resurrected my dalliance with Miss Genevieve? Gen and Penelope are…”

“The closest of friends.”

“I won’t tell anyone Colin but don’t you think it’s a good thing that someone else knows?  She’s so close now…”

“It is.  Not just for Pen, I am somewhat overwrought, perhaps.”

“I have never met anyone about to become a father that was not. “

Colin and Benedict drank mostly in silence, enjoying the companionship.  Colin woke late the next morning slightly bottle weary but with a familiar and beloved face sitting on the bed beside him.

“Pen! I am sorry.”

“Perhaps I should gag you until I deliver?”

Colin reached out and pulled her into a hug: “perhaps that would be wise.  Oh I missed you.” 

Chapter Text

Colin looked up at Aubrey Hall as he walked towards the entrance.  He could not remember the last time he had been here without his wife - there were those awful few hours when she was expecting Aggie of course, thirty years ago now- he sighed at that fact- but otherwise? Even before they had acknowledged their love she was so often there- more than he once the travel bug and escapism started, perhaps.

Almost as rare was the fact that within these walls right now all his sisters had gathered: natural and through marriage.  Kate, Sophie, Eloise, Daphne, Lucy, Hyacinth, Francesca, Fran’s companion (he smiled at that, no brother to Benedict could be that naive) Michaela, Prudence and Philippa. The only person missing was his mother, gone five years now but still missed every day- though he was thankful that he had been able to have her for so long, and that she had passed easily without the troubles poor Portia had to experience.

They were here for Kate’s masquerade ball, an annual event held in his mother’s memory, and Penelope would be joining him with their own children this evening.  Now, however, he had a mission and those women in there were assembled to help.

Colin was well aware that despite an outer veneer of charm and, he hoped, some kindness and good humour he was ultimately a mere man: a mere man who had managed to put his foot in it with Penelope spectacularly over the years.  He couldn’t imagine a situation more likely to risk that again than the one he faced now and so he had amassed this council of sisters to try and help prevent that.

He almost left as soon as he was shown in.  He had forgotten the strength of his family- royalty be damned, these women here could turn the nation on its head should they choose to.  Kate, ever more the Viscountess with each passing year; Daphne with her elegant charm; Hyacinth with her energy and the childlike quality that never truly left her; Philippa with her sharp eye and chaotic genius buried under that veneer of seeming unaware- every one someone you’d want on your side in any battle.

Colin hugged out his greetings, enjoying both the sense of mystery as none knew why they’d been summoned but also the sheer amount of love in the room- he marvelled at the way family grew across a lifetime, each new layer adding depth and value to the structure that all relied on to be their full selves.  He knew he’d contributed in his own way- helping save the Featherington estate, being the listening ear or encouraging push but everyone here had contributed something unique across his lifetime.

“So Colin, are you going to tell us?”

He took his seat and pushed his glasses back up his nose.  “No, but I’m going to ask you…”

Carefully Colin explained how each occasion in his life had been made better by the efforts put in by his wife- whether joint endeavours such as the loving family they had built or the many carefully planned and unique gifts she had prepared, from biscuits to elaborate travels: Penelope had, through her patience and determination to be a good friend and partner, made everything just that bit better.

“It’s her birthday, her big 50th- I want to make it so very special, pay back even a tiny amount of what she’s done for me, and I just don’t know where to even begin!”

His sisters sat back and quietened.  Kate spoke first:

“Penelope isn’t looking for pay back you know, she would say exactly the same as you about enhancing her life- the love you two share is a lucky thing indeed…”

“Almost as good as the friendship Penelope and I share,” Eloise interjected, winking at Colin.  “What? It’s tradition! I have to say it!”  She laughed and he threw a cushion at her.

“It is true though Colin, she wouldn’t think you owed her anything, would hate to think you thought that way actually,” Prudence contributed. “She always valued the fact that you have a partnership.”

“Thomas and Clara are holding a ball in her honour,” Philippa pointed out; “I did suggest we acknowledge a certain event of the past where she truly shone and have some bugs, they’re thinking about it…”

“I think you had to be there to fully understand the beauty of that madness,” Colin said: “I’ve tried to explain it to my children and to Sophie and Lucy here and been met with mostly bemusement.”

“Well- it’s just that.. you know… bugs.  Hardly something for a ball surely?” Lucy held her hands up in confusion whilst the others laughed; “truly you had to be there,” Philippa replied.

Colin looked around at the sea of beloved but also confused faces.

“Well-surely someone has an idea?”

“Anywhere she might wish to travel?”

“She’d sidestep and let me take over, she likes it well enough but truly that’s my thing.”

“If it were Benedict I’d suggest a poem or a picture…” Sophie murmured, Colin nodded.  “I can sing and write prose but I don’t write songs and she is a much better writer…”

“She’d disagree Colin,” Fran reassured.  “Different writing types, you know that.”

“Another dream she gave me, the writing,” Colin pointed out.

“Fair.”

“A few hours in a bookshop?”

“She has her own money, she can and would do that any day she wished.”

“Colin,” Kate asked, “have you actually asked her what she would like?”

Colin nodded, a look of fear crossing his face.  “She said not to get her anything.”

All the ladies present gasped in horror. “You poor, poor man!”

Colin had already spoken to Eloise at length about the problem, both drawing a blank.  They’d been married decades, he’d done the first edition books and on one memorable and successful occasion had negotiated an evening trip to the library at the university despite the fact that women being on the premises was against all rules- that had taken a lot of negotiation and effort, but her face had been worth it.

The footmen knocked and started to line up tea trays and cake.  Colin immediately started to gather as much as he could fit on a plate, Hyacinth threatening to tackle him for the butter biscuits. Colin ducked to avoid a flying scone and Kate intervened quickly, reminding them that it was her house now and she didn’t have to tolerate them the way their sainted mother had.

Still devoid of ideas the conversation moved on naturally, each sharing news of children and grandchildren with pride and delight.  As they chatted and munched away Anthony rushed in to fill his own plate, starting in surprise at the filled room.

“I always thought it would be Benedict who started his own harem…”

Colin spluttered.  “Anthony! These are my sisters!”

Anthony laughed.

“You do have a point. Anyway, there must be a reason for this odd little circle…”

“Planning my wife’s upcoming birthday.”

“Oh! Yes I planned to talk to you about that! If you are looking for ideas there was something mentioned in the House last time I attended, come with me, let me show you something.”

It was the day of Penelope’s birthday: she was overjoyed at the attentiveness of her husband- 50 gladioli, eclairs for breakfast, a new window seat in the library as he knew she was finding it harder to read in dim light now… she was thrilled: she didn’t need expensive objects, those she would and could buy herself- every touch was a sign of how well he knew her. He’d hidden pieces of paper with her favourite poetry around the house with token gifts: a drawing from a grandchild, a shell from that seaside trip years ago made into a necklace, a miniature Benedict had drawn of her mother.

Truly, a perfect day.

“I have one more gift for you my love, but it requires a carriage ride: would you care to join me?”

“I’m sure I’ve heard that line before!” She laughed, gathering her reticule and cloak.  “Is my day dress sufficient or must I change?”

“As ever you are perfect as you are.”

The carriage took them to Harley Street, where an older lady met them with a smile, Colin introducing her as Miss White of the Governesses’ Benevolent Institution.  Penelope looked confused; she had no links to any governess that she was aware of, her daughters having received an education from the same tutors her sons did before Eton, Penelope rejecting the idea that a girl only required a basic grasp of academics entirely.

Mrs White walked around the street showing Penelope a building the charity had recently acquired; gradually Penelope understood that the charity was turning it into both a retraining scheme for former governesses and- oh my!- a secondary school for girls, the first in the country to award qualifications.

“It will not open for a year or two yet,” Colin explained, “but they are seeking funds and I could not think of anything more perfect for you than us agreeing to sponsor a girl with each intake… is that something you would like, dear? As a birthday gift?”

Penelope stood speechless, her eyes on her husband.  “Truly? This school will admit girls and actually give them qualifications?” He nodded.

“Superb, is it not? I can only imagine how you and Eloise would have thrived somewhere like this…”

“Colin! I cannot imagine anything better…”

“There is more,” Mrs White added.  “We are looking for educated women such as yourself to act as Lady Visitors and chaperone the girls at lectures, with a rota.  Would that be something that interests you? Baroness Stanley has already signed up.”

Penelope could barely speak but nodded her enthusiastic agreement- “yes please!” she whispered, close to tears.

As they made their way back home to prepare for the ball Penelope looked at Colin in wonder.  “How did you even hear about this?”

“I confess it was Anthony’s idea, he heard discussion of it in Parliament, but as soon as he mentioned it I knew I had to get you there to meet them and actually see it, not just make a donation.  Mrs White suggested the volunteering herself.”

“Eloise…”

“Turns 50 soon, yes; Phillip accompanied me to meet the charity, he plans the same gift so perhaps we need to be a little secretive just for a few weeks?”

Awed, Penelope threw herself onto Colin’s lap and wrapped her arms his neck, kissing him fervently.

“Well if that’s the reaction I get I’ll have to try this more often…”

“Only one chance to make my birthday perfect Colin but by goodness you succeeded! Thank you-“ she peppered kisses across his face “- thank you, thank you!”

“Can you believe that not one woman I am related to could think of an idea even close to being worthy of you and it was Anthony who stepped up in the end?”

“It was you, Colin: you that asked for help, you that made the contacts, you that has spoiled me constantly since I awakened this morning.  You, my love; it always has been, and always will be, you.”

Colin was blushing and adorned with slightly kiss swollen lips when they arrived back at Featherington House but he was pleased to be able to see that the woman he had chosen as his bride glowed. He had thought her special when they became betrothed, would have told anyone of his fervent belief that he was marrying the best, brightest, most beautiful and endearing woman in existence, but now? After loving her and getting to know her for 31 years? Now he positively knew that she was all those things, and more: she was his other half and he couldn’t believe that after all this time he still found new ways to be amazed by her and to love her. Lucky, lucky man.

Chapter Text

Colin looked in on the nurse and the two sleeping children as he walked towards the sweeping staircase, his wife’s favourite navy velvet jacket worn with the teal cravat she had picked out for this evening, chestnut curls unusually tamed in readiness for the event his wife had taken to calling the social event of the year.

As if!

His inclination was to be far from here: perhaps cosy in front of the fireplace in their matching chairs, a book open on each lap, a plate of biscuits and eclairs between them, perhaps a sleeping toddler tucked into him - or with his brothers at their club, brandy in hand, teasing Gregory about his batchelor adventures….

Hell, a night alone in the study with yet another pile of ledgers and Portia’s expenses would be preferable to this!

The nurse laughed at his expression and ushered him towards the door.  “Go! I can hear her waiting for you, just accept your fate.”  Grimacing he nodded and left the room, staring down the steps to where his wife waited, smiling up at him.

Breathtaking.

Whilst Colin accepted Penelope’s metamorphosis from wallflower to rose of the 1815 season might well have hastened their romance a little by spurring on his jealousy once a certain unnamed Lord entered the picture, Colin liked to believe that they would have still been exactly where they were now if she’d kept his beloved yellow frocks.  He couldn’t bear to think that their love story was built in jealousy alone, or that he was so shallow that he wouldn’t have recognised his purpose and the prize of his lifetime without jewels and finery.  Indeed, he missed those dresses: he’d asked her to wear them a few times, being met with blunt refusal each time. 

No, he’d just needed time to heal from a failed romance to be ready for her, the wrappings were inconsequential, it was the woman inside he so adored. 

Tonight she wore a heavy satin gown, teal with daisies embroidered.  Hair as he liked it- half down, curls in full view but just a few pins for him to remove later… perfection.  He knew it was intentional of course, that she had dressed exactly as he liked (yellow dress simply a step too far) as balm to his soul, in expectation of the torture about to be endured- it would be short lived however, and this woman? She was forever.

On paper there were many reasons for them to be such a successful love match- their shared love of the written word, their long and deep friendship, a wicked and often hidden sense of humour, indeed some in the Ton would still insist it was his vulnerability post Marina and his fortune that combined to attract the attentions of the poor spinster (Lady Twombley, formerly Cowper, and Fife would make a good match he thought, not for the first time- he’d heard that theory from both over the years).  Whilst their shared humour had certainly drawn him to her at events over the years, and their friendship had become the greatest joy of his lifetime in all its differing forms, and he would certainly appreciate her beauty for all his days- it was more.

The kiss obviously: he believed in his very souls that he’d have been hers the minute they’d kissed regardless of when it had taken place- that wasn’t in doubt.

His failed engagement had left him unable to trust either himself or in love, her simple devotion had turned that on it head, allowing him to realise that love was still a possibility for him- and her kindness….

It had taken him a while to understand how her writings, even if sometimes misguided, were often an act of kindness- the shy, scared, vulnerable debutantes and young men never making an appearance, stories designed to force those neglectful of others into action, indeed to save: and tonight, tonight was about kindness, the sort of kindness that became a strength, an act of rebellion. 

They had first made this trip, separately, in the weeks before their swift engagement.  Accompanied by her teasing sister and quickly joined by Lady Danbury, the woman they had named their first daughter after, he had listened to the them converse about their pity for the poor young women forced to participate, ensuring their faces never lost a smile and that their applause was clear.  He has arrived in order to speak to her and no doubt with a face full of judgement and annoyance but he’d heard them speak and his heart had flipped just a little at the warmth of her- a warmth rarely shown to her by anyone in the Ton.

The carriage ride was short and Lady Danbury was waiting outside to greet them, eyes shining and Hyacinth at his side as she so often was these days.  “Are we ready for the battle?” Lady Danbury asked, eyebrows raised and cane forcing a way through the reluctant attendees as they tried to locate their seats.  He held back a laugh and watched the two younger women hide their giggles, attending an event with Lady Danbury was either a horror or a joy depending on one’s sense of humour and marital status, fortunately both worked to his advantage.

They found their seats, Penelope and Lady Danbury in the front row and Colin and Hyacinth directly behind them, the latter two slightly less adept at maintaining the required expression regardless of prompt.  A raised dais lay in front of them, musical instruments carefully laid out next to seats; programmes lay on each seat (Beethoven? A brave choice!) and several people had congregated at the refreshment table, muttering about the typically sparse offerings.  Colin slipped his hand around his wife’s side and leaned forward, briefly caressing her stomach, the two of them keeping the secret of her third pregnancy.  Lady Danbury glanced down and smirked..  “Congratulations are in order, perhaps?”

Penelope slapped him with her programme.  “You’ve known for one day Colin!” she whispered in frustration. He pecked a kiss behind her ear and sat back, winking at the unknown dowager beside him wearing a scandalised expression.

The lights were dimmed and the stragglers returned to their seats.  Colin watched the performers as they entered: Penelope and Lady Danbury had shown him how to spot the poor self aware girl in the bunch, the young lady painfully aware of the lack of talent and even basic aptitude.  Usually they were easy to spot but not this year- was this the first year that the Smythe-Smith family hadn’t even managed to scrounge up one ounce of humility? Perhaps it signified the beginning of if the end, that these musicales had finally run their course?

One could only hope.

They picked up their instruments and the members of his party threw each a supportive smile, whilst simultaneously digging fingernails into hands or taking deep breaths.

The music began; Colin shuddered- and then looked up.

Oh.

The sense of disappointment was visceral; it felt as if something had been lost, something core in his sense of life and routine.

They- they were good!

Well, perhaps not good exactly, they were not Francesca, but they were not bad.  Perfectly adequate to provide the entertainment for a cold winter’s evening in the country, or perhaps a Christmas dance en famille.

Colin glanced at Lady Danbury: she too looked disappointed.  Penelope’s eyes had become more alert: after years of refusing to mention the debacle in her column, a refusal borne entirely from sympathy, she would be mentioning it this year- he would know that keen eyed look anywhere.

The people around him relaxed: most had come either through societal obligation or the desire to mock but all had expected a difficult evening.

As the music faded and applause greeted the girls a woman at the door caught his eye: he recognised her as a Lady who had made her debut a few years ago, a Smythe-Smith who had benefitted from the support of Colin and Penelope:  she nodded at him, a small smirk on her face.

Candles were relit and guests circulated briefly before leaving for their own homes, all frustrated by the inability to express shock without publicly decrying the efforts of previous years.  The woman who has caught his eye walked up to them and bowed briefly, “don’t worry,” she said; “I’ve already heard the next batch, your services will still be required.” Colin barked out a loud laugh in response, Penelope towed him away to the carriage, giggling as she took his arm.

Chapter Text

Colin and Penelope were not ones for hobbies: the embroidery was abandoned the minute she escaped the watchful eyes of her mama, books and travel had become their careers and they had sufficient musical ability- her in pianoforte, him voice- to brighten any home gathering without the tedious monotony of endless practice sessions; Colin rode for transport rather than fun and she was not given to outdoor activity of any kind.

Penelope however was a quick study and had soon realised that on balance, the perceived unpleasantness of being outdoors was decidedly lower than the real difficulties of containing a toddler or two who had been trapped in all day.  Colin had welcomed her new eagerness to promenade and join in activities, ostensibly under the guise of good health (“I plan for us both to live until our 80s my dear, and then expire on the same day: I will not be separated from you”), but it turned out to be something very different indeed and Penelope had realised she’d discovered a new aspect of her husband’s personality- he was prideful.

As a rule Colin was an easy going sort of chap: he could make friends with (almost*) anyone, had slept on the floors of inns and tour guides alike on his travels, had never listened to the disdain shown to her or anyone else by the Ton unless it had been earned by an obvious character flaw- but now he had become the absolute epitomy of smug.

George remained at home today with the nurse, too young to be able to enjoy the park and ducks as yet but Colin had all the other children lined up by the door in their Sunday best, freshly scrubbed and looking angelic.  His mother had already sent word that the family tent (in fact two tents joined, to suit their large extended family) had been set up in the park and that all families were being asked to provide a basket of food for the picnic; Penelope had immediately requested that Cook provide two, knowing that Colin would eat far more than his share.  Colin had deliberately hired a cook known for their Mediterranean flavours and he and the Viscountess would often fill their baskets with spicier dishes that they then quietly shared in a corner- Penelope had learned to mitigate that by taking extra offerings for those without expanded tastes.

Colin loved these occasions, the rare clear and sunny days where the Ton would all head to the park, entertainment usually provided, and socialise.  Far more pleasant than the crush of a ballroom on a sticky midsummer evening, it was usually used as a chance to announce a new courtship, familiarise oneself with new faces or display the finest of new fashion, Colin had never bothered with any of those however: everyone knew the tallest of the handsome Bridgerton sons and he’d never abided by the rules of the mart even when eligible.  No, Colin was there to show off.  Not a French fashion (not that he was immune to such whims) or finely turned out new carriage- nothing that simple.

Somewhere along the way Colin had become entirely smug, believing himself to be rather clever indeed for snaring the best yet most overlooked woman in the Ton, and then for fathering the four most perfect children in Mayfair.  It started out as endearing but had become tiresome, especially once Simon and Anthony started to take offence and it had become competitive- in the true Bridgerton spirit of competition.

Today, she knew, would be a difficult day.

All the children partaking in today’s excursion were well turned out but the Bridgerton children a little bit more so.  Aggie wore a dress he had specifically imported from friends he had made on his Italian travels; Thomas, now breeched, matched his father’s outfit in every way and little Jane looked angelic in a white dress, hoisted onto her father’s hip and held there with a look of immense fatherly pride.  The other Bridgerton offspring were similarly attired- Penelope had to clap a hand over her mouth to avoid laughing at the sight of little Edmund in a jacket bearing the crest of the Viscount, oh Anthony- and Belinda looking particularly ostentatious in what actually appeared to be her mama’s jewelled tiara.

Ridiculous.

Attempting to walk slightly behind and pretend she was not with Colin, Penelope drifted into Violet’s tent and sat with a sigh.  Violet stared at her, eyes wide and tone amused.

“Your husband appears to have started something ridiculous.  Now, I am not surprised and this is certainly not the first time, however…”

“It is embarrassing,” Penelope finished her mother in law’s sentence.

“He is wearing clothes fit for the Queen’s Ball to the park- and Thomas matches him!”

“I know! It is ridiculous! Look at little Edmund and Belinda though…”

Violet shook her head in judgement. “The other children will be watching the Punch and Judy performance and playing with hoops, I fear that my own grandchildren are too finely decked out for such childhood fun…”

“They are not, not if we do not allow it- and perhaps the foolish men will learn?”

“Not just the men dear, Daphne is no better when amongst her brothers: all seem determined to prove that their own children are the more superior, quite forgetting that we are a family and each child beloved.”

Penelope nodded and stood.

“I cannot even hope to persuade Colin to part from Jane whilst he wears her as an accessory and parades like that-“ Colin was waving at each tent he passed as he walked “- but shall we gather the children we can find and visit the ducks? Perhaps there will be-“

“Mud? What a marvellous idea.”  Violet hurried to gather as many of her grandchildren as possible, point blank refusing to allow Belinda to accompany them in her ridiculous tiara in case it should fall into the Serpentine.  Spirited and fearful of being left out, Belinda tore her jewels from her hair and threw them towards her mother, marching off to follow her cousins in hope of fun.

Violet carried a small basket with her and handed all the children a piece of yesterday’s bread, showing the smallest ones how to tear it to pieces and throw to the ducks whilst Penelope kept watch at the river edge in case anyone slipped in or decided to take an impromptu swim.  The children at the rear jostled slightly for the best place and Penelope started to intervene before Violet held her back, pointing out that they could not fall into the water where they stood but they could…

“Ah yes!” Penelope laughed at Edmund and Charlotte, pushing and increasingly bickering until…

“Oops! How terrible, you are both covered in mud, what a shame- and your parents dressed you in such fine attire as well.”  Violet struggled to keep a straight face as the children stood, their clothing undoubtedly stained and very damp.  The other children started pushing and the two adults formed a defence line between them and the water, pretending pity when each became more muddy than the last, a few (including her own, Penelope noticed with some satisfaction) ripping their clothes, others discarding over- warm jackets in favour of play.

Delighted in their endeavours, Penelope and Violet marched the children back to the tent, Violet heading the parade of mucky children, ready to stare down any complaining Bridgertons, and Penelope taking up rear guard, knowing full well the ghost of Lady Whistledown would prevent anyone they passed from saying too much in front of the youngsters. It was a power she was still learning to wield when in public view but her alliance with the Queen and Lady Danbury meant that few would dare to say anything, to her face at least.

Violet tucked the children away at the back of the tent, both her and Penelope smiling sweetly (and with a hint of challenge) at any of the adults who dared to start to raise the issue. “Lovely day for play was it not, Penelope? Just as it should be for the young ones, you’ll find these days pass far too soon.”

Colin shot Penelope a warning glare which she met full on, refusing to blink until he had looked away again. “More than able to cope with your ridiculous behaviour my dear,” she muttered as she passed him, walking towards the picnic baskets.

Colin grumpily turned his back to her, bouncing Jane, the only clean child left, on his knee as he shared his exotic foods with Kate.  Penelope sat on a blanket at his feet, helping Violet share out the food and passing small morsels to Jane to nibble on.  Colin kept his back firmly pointed at her, his annoyance showing in both his posture and the refusal to speak to his wife, something almost unknown for the usually doting couple.

Penelope smirked at Violet, reaching to choose a strawberry from the basket and pass it to her youngest daughter. Violet turned away, lips pressed together to hold back the laughter lest she alert her troublesome son.

Jane grabbed the strawberry delightedly, mashing it into her face with her chubby little hands and reaching for more; Penelope kept up a steady supply until she lost interest and fell against her father sleepily.  Violet finally exploded with laughter as the berry covered child stained Colin’s glowing new white shirt.

Suspicious, Colin looked around to see his wife and mother in conversation before looking down at the child snoring contentedly on his lap. Letting out a shriek he jumped up, Penelope and Violet falling to the ground in laughter.

“You- you..”

“I?”  Penelope asked, a clearly false smile on her face.

“You ruined it!”

Penelope got to her feet and stood in front of him.

“I? I ruined it? ‘It’ being a Bridgerton competition, yes?”

Colin’s face looked at her in horror; the last time he’d seen her this angry they’d been stood outside a ball in 1815 and she had been tackling him over his appalling comments from the year before.

“You worry about ruining a few clothes and yet our children, your nephews and nieces, are expected to sit primly and remain pristine whilst all the other children their age play and enjoy this sunny day? You dress them up like little adults without a thought for those of us who were forced by their controlling parents to grow up and face society before they were of age… is this what our children are to you, Colin? Badges of wealth and status? Do you not have enough of that from your name and my father’s status alone?”

Violet quietly took Jane from Colin, taking care to hold the red stains away from her own dress, and shepherded the remaining children towards the Hastings tent.

“Pen…”

“You are ridiculous! Every time we argue or have a conflict it comes back to your foolish pride! I know I said I wanted more children but I didn’t mean for you to take up the role…”

“It wasn’t just me! Anthony and Daph…”

“I had enough of hearing that when we were naught but children!”

Swishing her skirts, Penelope walked to Violet to gather her children and load them in the carriage, closing the door firmly on her husband who watched them pull away, dejected.

Colin decided to walk back to his home, believing that Penelope might benefit from the space and he might be able to think on an apology.  As soon as she had tackled him it had all seemed painfully obvious- and predictable, the stuff of his childhood, the very behaviour that had caused his mama and, earlier, his papa so much frustration.

Colin nodded at the butler as he arrived home, listening to hear where his wife had taken herself.  Hearing noises from the nursery he climbed the stairs, nodding to the nurse stripping the older children as his wife bathed Jane to leave the room.  He started to help Thomas remove the sodden breeches, waiting for his wife to acknowledge him.

She sighed, and he knew that was his opening.

“I’m sorry my love, it started out in good humour but we allowed ourselves to be carried away…”

“Typical Bridgerton nonsense.”

Colin lifted Thomas into his bath and walked towards Penelope, wrapping an arm around her waist and resting his chin on her head.

“I am ridiculous.”

“You all are.”

“Yes, without a doubt.”

She turned in his arms.  “Jane’s dress is beyond saving and was doomed from the start, a crawling baby in a white dress at a picnic, you will have to apologise to the staff and give them something extra for even trying to save the rest of these clothes…”

“I will do that.  I don’t deserve you, my love.”

“I am inclined to agree, your poor mother as well…”

They lifted the younger children out of their baths, wrapping them in warm towels and setting them down ready for their nurse to dress in their night clothes, Colin leaned out the door asking for the nurse to come and assist the older two and prepare them all for supper and bed.

Colin took Penelope’s hand to leave the room, waiting until the door was closed behind them to sweep her up into a bridal style lift.

“Colin!” she laughed.  “I am still supposed to be angry at you.”

“I can think of a few ways to make it up to you my wife,” he laughed, marching along the corridor and into their shared chamber, closing the door very firmly behind them.

*even all these years on Colin could easily be goaded with mention of a fern or the Great Auk.  She often laughed to recall the Christmas season where Colin had stayed late at White’s on so many evenings, usually with a visiting Benedict and John, only to arrive home one day and find the festive table made beautiful with a centrepiece of ferns and Penelope cooing over vague unspecified memories whilst settling a fractious, colicky baby, agreeing menus, finalising a draft for the publisher and arranging the baskets for the staff … he’d cancelled his plans for the next few evenings rather quickly after that!

Chapter Text

Colin crept into the room at 2am.  The curtains were drawn but a single candle burned on the little table by the door, left by the nurse he had just sent away.  The room was silent save for two gently snoring bodies.

He settled himself into the chair and pulled the blanket over himself for warmth; he hadn’t slept a wink in days but wished to stay awake for their sakes; it was the first time he’d been in the room alone with his wife for what seemed like an endless time, he knew he could do whatever was required of him.

Colin moved the candle to the table next to Penelope’s bedside, he checked her colour and watched her breathing for some minutes before turning his attention to the cradle next to him where the baby was starting to grow restless; he reached in and  lifted his son, standing to walk up and down the room to settle him, to no avail.

“Colin- give him to me, I can feed him.”

“Are you sure Pen? If you’re too tired…there’s a wet nurse in the nursery…”

“Please, I want to.”

“Only if you’re certain. I’ll come and sit beside you, make sure you don’t drop off.”

Penelope nodded and stretched her arms out for the child, Colin held onto him until he was tucked in close to her.  “George, this is your mother. “ He helped his wife put the baby to her breast, propping pillows behind her and using himself to support her.

“Colin, I’ve fed three babies before.”

“I know love, but not like this.”

She was quiet for a minute before turning to him.  “What happened?”

Colin swallowed back a sob, he wasn’t sure he was ready to talk about the last few days yet but this was why he was here wasn’t it? He didn’t want his wife and child to be cared for by anyone else now the danger had passed; until now the room had been full at all times: Portia, a midwife, nurse, the accoucheur, his mama… the house had rarely been so full and he’d felt helpless, obsolete amongst the women and medics.  Portia hadn’t wanted to return home of course but she’d needed to rest and he was fairly going mad with everyone taking over.

“We almost lost you, sweetheart. You birthed him so well but after…”

Colin couldn’t help it, he let out an audible sob and had to pause to get his breathing under control.

“The afterbirth… it didn’t… not as it did with the others… and we were so very scared…”

“How long?”

“You have been asleep for three days, my love.  You woke for a few minutes this morning, until then we didn’t know…”

Colin couldn’t stop the tears now, a mix of fear and relief.  He’d known childbirth could be dangerous of course, he well remembered Hyacinth’s birth, but his wife always seemed so strong and vital- George had already been safely in his arms when everything had gone awry, although Violet had swiftly removed him and delivered the child to Kate so they could all focus on the sick young woman.

“George is well? I remember delivering him and mama telling me it was a boy, then everything seemed to go a little hazy.”

“George is fine my dear, we have had a wet nurse these last three days but she knows that you may wish to feed him yourself if you are able.  The midwife said it might be too much, that your body might struggle to recover and make milk.”

Penelo nodded.  “I can see him swallowing but I am so very tired my love, perhaps we could see for a few days? I suspect I will be in this bed for a few days at least…”

“A month Penelope, that’s what they advised and that’s what we will do.  I can’t lose you now- I was so scared.  I can manage anything with you beside me but almost losing you…”

Penelope yawned and Colin reached out to take George, placing him into his cot.  He helped his wife to slide back down into a comfortable position and pulled her blankets up, kissing the top of her head before walking back to his son and picking him up to burp.

“If I had gone Colin, they couldn’t wish for a better father, you have love enough for anyone.”

“I remember when mother lost father…”

“You have a large and loving family to help, my love.”

“It is not a worry now, George here will have to be our last, I am determined that they will all grow up with their mama.”

“We can discuss this later.”

“No Penelope, we need to be serious about this now, you need to sleep, but it is not up for discussion.”

Penelope’s eyes drifted close and Colin retook his position as watchman, baby rocked against his chest.  George stared up at him in the candlelight, blue eyes awake and alert.  Colin held out his hand for his son to grasp his finger and smiled for the first time in days.

“Well hello young man, you caused quite the hubbub! I’m sorry your mama has not been awake for you but she is safe now, safe for all of us.”  He exhaled: he didn’t think he had truly dared to breathe in days, his every muscle tensed as he’d begged Penelope to awaken, prayed…

… pleaded with his father to save his wife.

“Thank you papa,” he whispered.  “Thank you.  I love her so much, she is my world.  I couldn’t manage without her.”

Colin stood with the baby, walking up and down the room in his attempt to settle him back to sleep.  He’d spent so many hours of his life doing this for all his children, but now it seemed especially poignant, the first of a series of last moments he supposed.  Their planned large family was complete at four.

Colin whispered to his son as he paced, telling him stories of his own childhood and all the adventures they would share.  He told him about his older siblings, and the fun he’d had with his own siblings; he told him about his wife and how George had been blessed with the best mother possible- “she is so clever George, so very beautiful and witty.  Her only failing is that she loves me, I couldn’t possibly deserve her although I do try, every single day,”  and he told of his of his own papa, now long gone but still so loved.

“I wish you could have known him my son, he was the best papa a child could ever hope for, I endeavour to be as good as him and sometimes I come close but then… I am perhaps too foolish, too childish… but I learned from the best and I will always, always love you as he loved me.  You could not have been born into a more loving family, my child.”

The door knocked and the nurse came in to check on Penelope, accompanied by Violet.  “I was just telling him about my own papa.  He was a wonderful man mama, I always seem to miss him particularly at times like this.  I wish he could have met my children, met Penelope.”

“I like to think he is watching over you all.”

Colin nodded.  “I felt that, when I thought I was losing her.  He felt closer than he has done in many years, it was reassuring.”

“I have felt the same at times Colin, as if his love is still surrounding all of us.  It is a wonderful blessing.  I miss him so badly, but he is here in all of our children, in all of your children.  Those we love are never truly gone.”

“It was so close mama…” Colin started to sob.  She moved the now sleeping baby from his arms and put her arms around him; one of the lessons of adulthood had been that her children would always need her, long after she was required to kiss a scraped knee or chase away bad dreams.

“It was but she is recovering and soon this will all be a bad memory and you will be truly able to enjoy your new arrival together.  Colin you have both been so lucky…”

“I know mama, I know.  George will have to be our last but to keep Penelope safe? Anything.”

“The love you two share is a gift.”

“I am the luckiest.”

Leaning into his mother’s arms Colin let his eyes close for the first time in days, exhausted and distraught but taking strength from the same arms that had held him on his own day of birth and ever since.

“Thank you mama,” he said, as finally he allowed himself to sleep.

Chapter Text

The house woke early: 25th December was always a day for family, hosting a whole family lunch after Church with Violet and Portia; today, however, there was especial excitement, a sense of promise in the air as servants crept around lighting fires and completing the arrangements for the day.  It was the first big event that Featherington Manor had hosted- the first celebration under the new Baron- and the staff were nervous.  Several of the staff had been with the family since the young Lord had been but a babe in arms, and they had an especial wish to show everyone how far the family had come, the estate in virtual ruin when Mr Bridgerton had started to help Lady Featherington change their fortunes, through his formal management after the young Lord was born and now, as the child they had watched grow found his feet in the role himself, they would watch him marry the young lady he had clearly been smitten with since his Eton days.

There had been some nervousness in the family after Colin’s reaction to Aggie’s wedding a few years ago, but Colin’s reaction this time was noticeably different: there would be a honeymoon but Thomas wouldn’t return just to leave for more distant estates or need to change his  name, instead Colin was welcoming Clara, the daughter of old friends and a dear friend to Jane, to the family and he was more than happy.  Penelope was less involved than she might otherwise had been as her own focus had been on her mother’s health, but the rush of festive balls and parties leading up to this day had helped her lift her spirits ready to focus on the future.

Many of the staff left for the way morning, permitted to visit Church before the festivities, Eloise accompanying Violet, Jane and George to the morning service whilst finishing touches were put in place and the family gathered to catch their breaths and take a moment together before welcoming the new change.

Thomas sat in the drawing room, knee bouncing in his nervous state as Colin fetched he’d him a brandy and sat across from him.

“Ready, son?”

Thomas nodded.  “I’ve been ready to wed Clara for years father, I think I may take after you and mama that way- Lord Cho certainly thinks so: he said it is a blessing to be part of the Bridgerton marriage tradition.”

“Really? I often think we must all look somewhat chaotic from the outside.  It is a great joy though- we have been very blessed, all my siblings really but certainly your mother and I- and your grandmother before us.”

“Is there a special trick to this?”

“I wish I could say there was Thomas, and it wasn’t an easy road for your mama and I- at least when we were first wed.  We could so easily have lost each other, and perhaps it is that? I have always felt grateful, every single day, that we were able to find our way back to each other- the idea of life without your mother, all the joy she has brought me…”

“I can’t imagine either of you without the other.”

“It was the same for my own parents,” Colin replied quietly, “and yet your Grandmother had to find her way through: there are no guarantees of tomorrow son, just a today to do your best and revel in the company of those you love.”

“You have been excellent parents.”

“We have been, and will continue to be, exceedingly proud parents; we have been overjoyed to share our lives with you all.  We are so very proud of you today son, but we’ve always been proud- that is nothing new.  So excited as well, Clara is clearly your match and you will have a beautiful future.”

Thomas met his eyes, a look of worry on his face.  “What if I’m not good enough?”

Colin laughed gently: “if you only knew how many times I’ve said that same thing to myself! When your mother agreed to marry me, when you were all born and when I realised not just that I had to take over the Barony but that I had to make a success of it, for you.  When I watch your mother struggle with her mother’s ill health and know that she will lose her soon, will I be enough to see her through it?  When Jane leaves us and even baby George…”

“George is fair on his way to being a young man now father.”

“Don’t remind me,” Colin said with a sigh.  “I couldn’t have wished for a happier life and it is rushing by at such a speed, as soon as one thing settles I look around and something else changes.”  Colin poured himself another drink.  “We are being a trifle melancholic for such a day, no?  Tell me, has Anthony had a talk with you?” He chucked, a gleam in his eye.

“Was that your doing? I was mortified …”

“No! He insisted.  He said it was he failed to it do for me and had a duty for you…”

“Nobody needs their uncle trying to tell him about marital relations on the eve of their wedding!”

“No indeed, I am sorry for that.  I refused to take you to a- well you know- when you came of age and he vehemently disagreed with my decision.  Is there anything you need to ask?”

Thomas shook his head.  “We, um, we have been together rather a while… I am sorry, I have embarrassed you.”

“No indeed, your mother and I had known each other for a long time before we were wed- sorry did I embarass you?” Colin roared with laughter, “love is a truly wonderful thing Thomas, in all forms.  You will learn from each other and your marriage will change many times over the years, embrace it and you will do well.”

“I have the best role models.”

“Thank you.”

Colin looked up to see Thomas’ valet at the door, coughing gently.

“Ah, looks like it is time.  Off you go, I will see you at the Church! Edmund will no doubt be here soon for his best man duties .”

“Father?”

Colin looked up to see Thomas reaching his arms towards him for an embrace.  He leaned into it, proud of his son who wore his emotions for all to see, the man he had become.

“I will see you soon Thomas.”  He patted his shoulder and went to find Penelope to finish their own preparations.

The church had been decorated in seasonal greens and boughs- an arch of holly placed before the door, roses from Lord Crane’s hothouses adorning the inside.  They watched as the bride arrived, a cream velvet gown stunning against her dark complexion, reaching to find each other’s hands within the pews.

The service was simple, neither were given to ostentatious displays, and the party soon returned to the Manor, beautifully decorated in bows, evergreens and boughs, and with a tree indoors in the new fashion set by the royal family. They watched as guests enjoyed a festive meal before tables were cleared ready for dancing.”

Thomas spun his new Baroness around the floor before breaking away to extend a hand to his mama and invite her to dance, Colin taking the arm of the new daughter in law before finding his wife and twirling her as they’d always enjoyed so much, Penelope still nimble, darting under his raised arm as they laughed together.  Duty dances with Lord and Lady Cho aside they had every dance together, reminiscing about the many balls of the past.

“Do you remember that ball where you filled my dance card and challenged me to each and every set?”

Colin laughed.  “Do you remember the ball where Cressida poured her drink over you, I think it was our first dance together outside of the lessons we shared.”

“You turned a humiliating event into a joy when you asked, Colin; Vauxhall was it not?” He nodded.

“A precious memory indeed.  Mostly I recall the ball where you destroyed my chances of wedding a member of the peerage, instead chasing my carriage and ruining this poor young innocent.”

Colin roared with laughter.  “You did not seem so reticent.”

“Indeed I was not! I had loved you so long Colin, I have loved you far longer now: and will yet for many more years, I hope. I felt so lost and then my whole life suddenly became magical in the space of a few minutes.”

“I have treasured every moment.”

“It has been wondrous, it will yet be wondrous.  We are truly blessed and I believe Aggie and Thomas are on the same path.”

“It is the Bridgerton way.”

“You are back as Lord Featherington, in duty at least, for the next six months.”

Colin groaned. “I should have married Cressida Cowper after all, perhaps life would have been more peaceful.”  He winced as Penelope used a change of direction to poke him firmly in the ribs.

After the dance ended and they made their bow they walked to the refreshments, finding a glass of champagne.

“To the rest of our lives together!” Colin toasted. “May love always be in such great abundance.”