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It was good to be home, Colin thought, as he approached Bridgerton House. He’d left after the season concluded again last year to continue his adventures. He loved traveling. The scenery was remarkable and the people were welcoming wherever he went.
Colin had intended to arrive on time for Francesca’s presentation, but had been delayed first by unfavorable weather and then by a desire to take a detour to Scotland on his way home. Stonehenge had always been of particular interest to him, so he indulged himself while he had the opportunity and ended up staying north far longer than he planned.
However, the time for indulgence was over. He missed his family and was eager to catch up on all the going’s-on at home.
His skipping from destination to destination made it difficult to receive letters from home, so he asked them to write to him and save them until he returned so that he wouldn’t miss any. It was for this reason that he suspected his letters to Penelope went unanswered. She would have received the post far too late to write back to the same address he sent his from and she, unlike his family, was unaware of his itinerary to forward letters to the next destination (had they actually forwarded them, that is).
~z~
Colin was in a jovial mood when he entered Bridgerton House and was greeted by Humbolt. The man seemed unusually reserved, however, when he advised him that the family was in the drawing room.
Like last year, Colin swore him to secrecy about his return and rushed up the stairs to surprise his mother and siblings.
As expected, there was a cacophony of voices emanating, as well as a soothing melody from the pianoforte now that Frannie was back from Bath. Colin paused a moment, joyfully listening, until the music stopped and all that was left was the quiet chatter.
“Hello, family!” he announced jovially as he entered the room, hands outstretched. “Miss me?”
Everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at him. They looked from him to each other and back again uneasily before all jumping up and rushing over to give him hugs. He answered questions about his health, his spirits, and whether he brought home any gifts before being released fully.
Colin looked around the room and noticed that Anthony was missing. “Where’s our intrepid viscount?” he asked, purposefully using the same words from last year to see if anyone would pick up on them. When no one did, he added, “With his new viscountess, I presume?”
A gasp and a, “How did you…” escaped Hyacinth’s mouth before Gregory, who was sitting next to her, stuffed a chocolate macaron into it.
Ordinarily, the action would have drawn laughter from everyone, but today it didn’t, and Colin was confused. “What is going on?” he asked. “You’re all behaving strangely.”
“We are sorry, dearest,” his mother chimed in, grasping him by the elbow and leading him to an open seat on the settee across from where his youngest siblings had sat back down. “We are simply surprised. We were not expecting you today.”
“I sent word. Did Anthony not mention it?” Colin asked, making a grabbing motion at Gregory for the tin of sweets. He sighed, but leaned forward and passed it to him.
“Your brother has been rather busy lately,” his mother responded. “Perhaps it slipped his mind.”
Colin looked up when Eloise snorted behind her book and caught Benedict, who was sitting across from her in the opposite armchair, giving her a warning look.
“What?” she retorted. “He has been busy.”
Benedict held her gaze for a moment before breaking and sighing. “True.”
“Preparing for the baby has taken up a great deal of time lately,” Francesca commented from the pianoforte, having resumed playing the moment she could.
After locating a chocolate macaron himself, Colin exclaimed, “Aha!” victoriously and asked, “Kate is with child then? What marvelous news!”
Uncharacteristically, Francesca played a discordant note and grumbled. She stood up from the bench and walked over to them. “We have to tell him,” she stated.
“Tell me what?” he asked, mouth full of macaron.
Benedict put down his newspaper and sat up straight, clasping his hands. “About Anthony.”
Colin stopped chewing and swallowed, the sweet going down like a lead ballon. “What about him? Is he alright?”
“Yes. He’s fine,” Benedict reassured him. “It’s just that he… Well… He didn’t marry Miss Sharma.
“Why?”
“His plans changed,” Benedict offered vaguely.
“Oh. Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” Colin replied. He truly liked both Miss Sharma’s. Either one would have made an excellent wife for his brother. Colin put the sweets tin back on the table and brushed his hands together to get the crumbs off. “So, who did he marry then?”
Benedict sent a pleading look to their Mother before scrunching his eyes shut and clenching his fists. “He married…”
“Penelope!” Colin shouted before he could finish,
~z~
Oh, thank God, Benedict thought when he heard his new sister’s name. Why he had been the one appointed to break the news to Colin about Anthony’s marriage to Penelope was beyond him.
Unfortunately, his relief at the reprieve was short-lived when he opened his eyes and saw his new sister in the doorway wearing one of her old yellow day dresses and a shocked look on her face.
“Colin?!”
His younger brother stood from the settee and walked over to his friend. “It is good to see you, Pen. I’ve missed you.”
“You missed me?” she asked skeptically, crossing her arms under her bosom and above her slightly distended stomach. Because she was larger than most women in the ton, it was taking her longer to begin showing her pregnancy than she would otherwise. So, she’d been able to continue wearing most of her existing gowns. However, she recently switched back to her older citrus dresses with the higher waistlines to accommodate the change in her figure while Genevieve finished her new ones.
“Yes. Of course I did,” Colin elaborated, stepping closer to her until there was only scant feet between them. Far too close for Anthony’s liking, should he walk in the room at this very moment. Benedict, like the rest of the family, held very still, both intrigued by the drama between the former friends and worried about their brother walking in on it.
Instead of relieving them all as Benedict hoped, Penelope only increased the tension by moving forward. She looked up at Colin, who towered over her far more than Anthony, and asked, “You missed me but would never court me, is that correct?”
Colin seemed stunned, stepping back and gazing at her with confusion. “Pen… I…” he sputtered.
The new viscountess dropped her arms and smoothed out her skirts as Colin frantically tried to figure out what to say. When he finally spoke, all that came out was, “You are my friend.”
Benedict groaned and shook his head at the words while Eloise closed her book with a snap and sat forward in her chair, ready to see the fireworks display their brother had just set off with his words. His younger sister may still be angry with her best friend over the monumental secret she kept, but she remained steadfastly loyal. Thanks to Anthony’s intervention (re: a long, heated lecture on what her shenanigans would have cost the family if his wife hadn’t stepped in), the two called a truce and were well on their way back to repairing their friendship.
“And I do not count,” Penelope replied. “A fact of which I, and the rest of the ton, are well aware after your drunken declaration at my mama’s ball.” Penelope paused and watched along with them as surprise morphed into horror. As soon as it did, she continued, “I just never thought you of all people could be so cruel. Especially to a friend.”
The last word was practically spit back at him, much to Eloise’s delight, and a tense silence filled the room as the rest of the family waited to see what Coin would say in response. Benedict smirked, thinking it was fitting that Pen’s hair was arranged in an updo with braids wrapped around her head like a crown because, in this moment, she was nearly as formidable as their monarch herself.
Suddenly, Benedict, slightly turned on by the display and hating himself for it, understood just what caused Anthony’s rather abrupt change in his attitude about his marriage. That fire in her eyes, confidence in her tone, and unapologetically regal demeanor would have had his brother intrigued from the moment they were alone. Lady Whistledown, it seemed, was a force of nature that Anthony was clearly intrigued by, both in and out of their bedchamber.
~z~
Eloise was waiting on pins and needles for Colin’s response when her stupid eldest brother had to go and ruin everything by entering the drawing room. Anthony, smiling, gave him a pat on the shoulder and a jovial, “Welcome home,” that immediately doused the fire in Penelope’s eyes and sucked the tension from her body.
She mumbled, “Damn and blast,” under her breath, but apparently not low enough to escape Francesca’s notice. Her sister glanced at her from the side and looked heavenward, indicating that she, too, was disappointed by the untimely arrival of their brother.
The entire family was more than happy to have Anthony in such a good mood, especially after so many years of angry brooding, but it was getting tiresome to witness the sappy displays of affection he and her best friend shared all the time. Eloise never thought she’d be glad to leave her home, but there was a part of her that couldn’t wait for Mother to find a new residence for them to move into because one could not enter a room in this house anymore without peeking around the corner first to make sure they weren’t occupying it. Benedict took the whole thing in stride, laughing whenever he or anyone caught them behaving badly, but Mother (and the rest of them) were at their wits end over it. Is that not what bedrooms were for?
When he let go of Colin, he immediately turned his attention to Penelope, pulling her in close with an arm around her waist and leaning down to ask, “Are you alright, darling?”
Colin made a choking noise low in his throat. “Darling?” he squeaked. (Yes, squeaked!)
Eloise grasped her book for dear life as she watched the Bridgerton family equivalent of a carriage accident unfold right before her eyes. Oh, this was getting good…
Penelope looked adoringly into her husband’s eyes and whispered a soft, “Fine, ” before she turned her attention back to Colin and smiled smugly, waiting, like the rest of them, for him to put the pieces together.
And when he did, it was…. Glorious.
Colin stumbled backward so quickly that Benedict had to rise from his seat to catch him from behind as he gaped at the couple with wide eyes. “No,” he muttered, horrified.
“No, what?” Anthony asked, confused.
Eloise fought the urge to bury her face in the palm of her hand over his obtuseness, so she was strangely satisfied when Hyacinth did it in her place. Gregory was cringing, Mother had a hand to her temple in exasperation, and Francesca blew out a breath and gave a little head shake.
“Yes,” Penelope said, ignoring her husband’s question in favor of seeing Colin’s foolish words and actions come to bite him in the rear end.
~z~
When Colin lunged at Anthony with a face more furious than she’d ever seen, Violet knew it was time to intervene. She implored Benedict with her eyes to grab his brother before he did something he’d regret and rushed over to stand by the couple.
Anthony’s brow was stil furrowed in confusion despite him pushing his wife protectively behind him in the face of Colin’s assault. “What is wrong with you?” he thundered.
“YOU MARRIED HER?!” Colin shouted as he struggled against Benedict’s hold. “If you compromised her, so help me God, Anthony…” her normally affable son threatened through clenched teeth.
“You’ll what?” Anthony asked ominously, voice low and dangerous. It was a tone she had never heard from him before and, frankly, it scared her a little. Was this the Viscount others saw that made Anthony one of the most powerful and influential men in London?
Colin gulped and then held up his hands in surrender, likely realizing he was outmatched. Shrugging out of Benedict’s hold, he straightened his traveling clothes (which made him look like a pirate) and replied. “I don’t know. But I’ll think of something.” He sighed and asked, “Anthony, how could you?” in a disappointed tone.
The tips of Anthony’s ears turned red and his jaw ticked in barely-constrained rage. He echoed an incredulous, “How could I?” before stepping forward and punching his brother right in the nose.
Gasps echoed around the room as her other children watched the exchange. Violet knew she should stop it and usher the younger ones out, but she felt they deserved to be here. They already knew everything anyway and had been just as wronged by Colin as Anthony in their own ways.
Penelope rushed to Anthony’s side to hold him back as Benedict once again caught a staggering Colin, who had blood gushing from his nose. Violet fished down her bodice and pulled out her handkerchief. She walked over to her son, giving Anthony a warning look in the process, and shooed his bloody hands away so she could hold the material up to his nostrils. “Francesca, ring for some cloths and medical supplies, would you?”
Violet heard Gregory say, “I’ll do it.” She glanced at him to thank him and saw him give Colin a look of outrage as he moved.
“Thank you, Gregory,” Penelope said from next to a tense, panting Anthony. His countenance immediately softened and he smiled brightly. “You’re welcome, sister.”
Violet closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The last thing she needed was her youngest son falling head over heels for his brother’s wife. But that was a problem for another day.
“I didn’t do a damn thing, Colin, except fix your mess,” Anthony ground out behind her. “If you want to be disappointed in someone over this situation, brother, look in the mirror.” Then he growled and stalked out of the room, Penelope hot on his heels.
When Benedict offered a cheeky, “Well, we won’t see them until tomorrow,” as he walked Colin to his vacated armchair, Eloise snorted. Violet admonished both her children and reminded them to mind their manners before grabbing the supplies from the footman who brought them in.
~z~
Francesca didn’t know much about boxing other than what Simon had mentioned here and there during dinner conversation, but she was fairly certain that a punch to the nose had to be a hard one to break it. And Colin’s nose seemed most definitely broken, given the copious amount of blood dripping out of it and his level of caterwauling about the pain.
Once Mother finished patching him up the best she could, she sighed, stood, and walked the supplies to a table by the door. Uncharacteristically, she stayed there and buried her face in her hands, clearly frustrated by the dissention. When she turned around to face them again, she looked weary. “Colin. You should not have done that,” Violet admonished. “You owe your brother an apology.”
Colin, who’d been resting his head on the back of the chair, sat up. He took the cloth off his nose and pointed to it. “Me?! Look what he did.”
“He had every right to do it, brother,” Francesca stated, much to everyone’s surprise. (Why they were surprised, she didn’t know. Just because she didn’t like being the center of attention didn’t mean she was incapable of it when she had something important to say.) “You’re the one who compromised Pen, not him. He simply stepped in to fix your blunder.”
“I erred at the ball, yes. But the words were hardly compromising, Frannie,” Colin replied. “I doubt they warranted a punch in the nose.”
A “Debatable,” came from Eloise next to her, but Francesca ignored it in favor of continuing. “Let us put aside for a moment how hurtful they were to Penelope personally and focus on the fact that you all but declared her unmarriageable to every young man in the ton, Colin. How can you tell her she’s special and that you’d always look out for her with one breath and then betray her with the next? It’s unconscionable, brother.”
“How do you…” Colin asked incredulously.
“The staff have eyes and ears everywhere, Colin,” Benedict chimed in. “The gossip about you being alone with her was running rampant before you were even out of the harbor.”
Colin’s eyebrows shot up. “What? No. There was no one about.”
“There is always someone about, Colin,” Violet stepped in to say firmly. “You know that.”
“Be that as it may,” Benedict interrupted. “Your words and actions combined with your wholly inappropriate letters to Penelope last year was enough for Lady Featherington to come over here and demand satisfaction for ruining her daughter.”
“She told Anthony he had twenty-four hours to get you back or propose to Penelope himself or she would go public and take the Bridgerton’s reputation down along with Pen’s.”
Colin had the audacity to eye Benedict as if to ask Why not you?, to which her brother responded, “I would have married Pen if I had to, but we all knew it was Anthony or no one.”
“She wanted the title, Colin,” Eloise spat. “And you handed it to her on a silver platter.” She stood up and walked over to him and then leaned down with a hand on his shoulder and said, “Congratulations,” before sucker punching him in the stomach and walking out of the room, head held high.
“I never meant …” Colin defended.
“It doesn’t matter what you meant, son. All that matters is what consequences Penelope and this family had to face because of your actions. Thanks to you, your friend was ruined, your family was in danger, and your brother had to break his and Miss Sharma’s hearts and marry a woman he barely knew to save his legacy.”
Colin rose from the chair and scoffed. “Of course he’d choose duty over affection.” He shook his head in exasperation.
This made Benedict stand up. He invaded Colin’s space and said, “Don’t,” in the coldest voice Francesca had ever heard from him. “You can’t possibly understand what he’s sacrificed for us over the years. He chose duty to this family because it was the only choice.” He pointed back to the chair and ordered, “So sit down and shut up.”
Colin eyed Benedict warily but did as he bade. “Are you going to punch me, too?” he asked.
“I’m honestly thinking about it,” Benedict muttered. “Because it might be the only way to knock some sense into you.”
Benedict paced for a few moments before waving his hand in a gesture of frustrated dismissal and striding out of the room with a comment about needing a drink.
Colin rolled his eyes at his back, which made Francesca angrier than she’s ever been. She walked over to her brother and warned, “You’re lucky they fell in love. If they hadn’t, I just might have punched you myself.”
She kicked him in the shin and walked to the pianoforte, turning her music to Mozart’s Little Funeral March. Francesca figured it would be a fitting tune as Mother, Gregory and Hyacinth each took their turns scolding him for his reprehensible behavior.
The End
(for good)
(for now)