Chapter Text
Colin Bridgerton always prided himself on being a rather great gift-giver. It was something he’d begun when he first went off to Eton. He would return home to his family laden with little trinkets. They were accepted warmly, even though some siblings did not seem to appreciate his offerings as well as he wished.
But the one person who Colin could always rely on to express delight at a gift was Penelope Featherington. Her joy at the little baubles was motivation enough to search stalls and shops for the perfect gift, for when she smiled at him and shyly thanked him, all his efforts were worth it.
Colin figured her delight was mainly due to the fact that her family, though they never appeared to be lacking in funds, rarely allowed Penelope to buy any frivolous baubles for herself. His gifts were little trinkets of animals for a few years while he finished Eton and went to university. She reacted warmly to the figurines: a tiger, a bear, a cat, and a butterfly. Eloise had told him that Penelope had lined them up in the windowsill in her bedroom and the image of sweet Pen looking at his gifts whilst she looked out the window warmed his heart.
Not wanting to continue to buy her childish gifts, Colin had bought Penelope a rather fancy quill set whilst in Greece. Her letters were such a source of comfort for him after the rather difficult year he’d had with Marina and Whistledown, so he wanted to show her how much her writings had meant to him. The quill was gold with swirls on it. He had smiled as he bought it, imagining the replies to his letters that Pen would compose with this very quill.
But, on his second trip abroad about the continent, he found himself struggling to figure out which gift Penelope would adore. This was mainly due to the fact that she hadn’t replied to any of his missives. He, for the life of him, could not figure out what had changed. His last interaction with Pen was at her mother’s ball, where he had saved her family from her scoundrel of a cousin, Jack Featherington. Uncovering that scheme had left him feeling purposeful as a hero for his dear friend. She had beamed at him as they danced that evening.
Nothing had gone amiss…so why was he left with this unending silence?
He tried not to dwell on the lack of letters from his friend. After all, his family scarcely wrote to him as well. Surely everyone was just busy in their country homes. It was those thoughts that had him searching for his own purpose, losing himself in the nights of revelry and filling his journals with all the details and beauty of his travels with the words he would have sent to Pen in letters instead.
Colin, despite feeling a bit desolate about the lack of communication from his family, still bought them all presents as usual. He knew that dear Hyacinth would rejoice at her gift of new ribbons; even if that were the main excitement she showed upon his return. The rest of the gifts for his family were tucked carefully in his bags, but he kept coming back to the necklace he had bought for Penelope at a shop off the beaten path in Florence. It was a simple necklace; the chain was not the statement, the focus instead was on the rather ornate charm. The charm was made of gold – there were no stones, just a rather detailed design carved into the large circle. There was a flower with the petals halfway falling off the familiar shape of a daisy. Although there was no colour on the charm itself, he imagined the petals in real life may be a bright yellow. Behind the flower, there were vines climbing up the stem and spiralling over and under the remaining petals.
The intricacies of the pendant are what first caught his eye. He could not help but question whether the vine was perhaps a weed suffocating the flower. Or was the climbing vine helping the flower remain strong – a mutually beneficial relationship? Colin liked to think it was the latter, that one could not survive without the other.
At the time he had bought it, he had been drawn to its simple beauty; a direct contrast to the ostentatious ruby necklaces her cousin Jack had tried to fraud the town with. He thought it would be a nice reminder of his heroics in that whole endeavour whenever she wore his necklace. But now he was second-guessing his choice…was it a rather bold choice for him to give Pen a necklace? Typically, jewellery of any type as a gift was reserved for courtship. Would Pen read too much into his chosen offering as an unmarried woman? Would her mother find it an inappropriately intimate gift for an unmarried man and woman? Or, more importantly, would Penelope accept his gift at all?
Still unsure, he’d selected a backup gift of a novel, in case he decided not to give her the necklace.
Colin was still rubbing the engraving of the charm of the necklace as his carriage carried him back towards home – right into the heart of his family at Bridgerton House. And, after shoving the necklace back into his pocket, he rejoined the thrall of the season in Mayfair once more.
📿
The Four Seasons Ball simply did not progress as Colin had assumed it would. He thought, after making the necessary rounds with his sisters, that he’d be able to find a quiet corner to talk to Penelope. After all, he hadn’t really had a chance to talk to her much yet this season; they had only had one quick conversation at the Queen’s tea. He had been excited to jump into witty banter and thoughtful discussions with Penelope as they always had previously. And, more than anything, Colin missed his friend and wanted to inquire as to why she had not written to him on his travels.
He certainly knew why she had remained silent those many months now. Penelope, after running out of the ball in distress, had fixed him with such a harsh stare that he almost took a step back from her. And then, her tone sharp, she had let out her ire: that she had overheard him making that rather thoughtless comment about not courting her, that she thought he was embarrassed by her – of their friendship.
Nothing could be further from the truth. Nothing. Penelope was his dearest friend. The only person he had sincerely missed on his travels. He’d thought – nay, hoped – that she would be as delighted to see him again too. But, no…because of the vitriol he had inadvertently spewed about their friendship, Pen was back to addressing him as simply, ‘Mister Bridgerton’.
His heart had twisted at her words, at the amount of trust he had lost from her.
But, despite his past mistakes, he knew that now he must right his wrongs. It would be beneficial, he thought, not just for him, but for Eloise. For somehow, in the time when he had been on his tour, Eloise and Penelope had fallen out of friendship as well. When he had inquired as to what had occurred, his sister had just made a face, declared that he did not know Penelope as well as he thought he did, and left the room. Surely, by righting his friendship with Penelope, she would once again be a mainstay in Eloise’s life as well.
So he had made his way across the street to Featherington House, prepared to call on Penelope and reassure her that she mattered to him. It ended up being better, he thought, that Pen was already in the garden, enjoying the sunny day when he arrived.
When he joined her, he was surprised to see her ire for him on full display still. It was not that he did not think he deserved her anger; he did. Colin felt horrible, absolutely horrid, that she had been stewing all these months, that his words caused her heart to harden and left her feeling as though he did not value her. It was more so that Penelope was so good and forgiving that it was rather jarring to be out of her good graces – he had never experienced that before.
Penelope was barely looking at him as he joined her on the bench, her head turned to the side.
He bit his lip, looking down. What to do? Should he jostle her with his shoulder, tease her in the way he had perfected abroad with a wide grin? Or should he fall to her feet and confess to her that Mayfair, without her friendship, held no interest to him any longer?
Penelope surprised him as he was considering his next move. She launched into a speech about how she wanted to get married this season – a continuation of her assertion that she was practically on the shelf at the Four Seasons Ball. And, seeing a way to weasel his way into her life once more, he offered his help. Using the nonchalance he had perfected these last few months, he offered to help her and promised that he could teach her charm.
It was a facade. He had never charmed anyone who mattered. Not truly. All he had ever done was flash a smile, flirt like he always had, and walk away with false bravado so that everyone assumed that he was confident and aloof.
But, as he shook Penelope’s hand, the soft skin of her open palm against his – ungloved – his mind flew to the topic of another charm. A real one this time.
“Penelope, I have something to give you,” he said at the same time as he released her hand.
He reluctantly pulled his hand back, reaching into his jacket pocket with one of his new, charming grins plastered on his face. This one required effort, though. He was more panicked inside than he let on.
Colin, for some reason, did not think it was a good idea to help Penelope find a husband. For what could Penelope Featherington want with a husband? She was intelligent and strong and she never flocked around men like other women of her station. Didn’t she want to enjoy her days without being tied down to a man who likely would not be as intelligent as her? Penelope had aspirations outside of just being a wife and a mother. He knew that from their years of friendship. Surely, her home life was not as ideal as his own, but with her cousin Jack out of the picture, certainly the Featherington ladies enjoyed more freedom.
And Penelope was certainly not a spinster. He had always assumed that, like Eloise, she simply did not want a suitor yet. Because why would a man, when introduced to Penelope, not want to get to know her better for her wit alone? And, well, with her new style of dresses, one would have to be blind not to notice that Pen was a woman – a very fetching one at that.
“What is it?” Pen’s eyes were narrowed, suspicious almost, as she watched him.
“I bought something for you on my travels…” his voice trailed off, suddenly feeling exposed. But, now that he had started, he could not very well back up and present her with the novel instead of the necklace. So he trudged ahead, hoping she could not sense his unease. “Even though we were not corresponding as he had in the past, I thought of you often on my tour. And I came across this at a rather unique shop in Italy, and it just reminded me of you and our friendship.”
He held out his hand, then with the necklace settled in his palm. Even with his reservations, Colin still thought it was a lovely gift. And, in truth, he thought it would look wonderful nestled against her chest.
But Penelope simply stared at his hand for a long moment before she spoke up. “You intend to gift me jewellery?” she paused, her usual light tone returning to her voice. “Right after you promised to give me charm lessons you present me with a charm?”
Colin let out a low chuckle at her jest before adding. “I hope you do not find me impertinent for the ironic circumstance or the gift itself.”
Penelope just looked at him a long while before she sighed and nodded, accepting his gift. “Thank you. That was very thoughtful of you, Colin.”
He noticed her looking over his shoulder at her maid, Rae, who was closer now than she had been during their earlier conversation.
“Can I?” Colin asked, making eye contact quickly with her maid – surely she could trust him to put the necklace on his friend himself. Nothing untoward would occur. “I'd like to see if the necklace suits you…” he considered how to continue because if he was alone with Pen, he would not have hesitated to sweep her hair off her shoulders, unclasp her current necklace, and help her clasp his gift around her neck. But with the hesitant expression on Penelope’s face, he stepped aside.
Rae, after a quick nod from Pen, stepped up behind her and did the task for him. She made quick work of removing the current necklace, shoving it in her pocket, and grabbing the new necklace from him and clasping it on. Penelope thanked her and then, without looking up, studied the charm and the design with a curious expression on her face.
“Does this mean anything in particular? The engraving of the dying flower?”
He frowned, that was not the meaning that he wanted her to take away from his charm. Surely she must see it as he did – that the flower and vine lived in perfect harmony. He struggled to come up with a response. He wanted to push away her thoughts, reassure her, and convince her to see it from his point of view. He would not gift her an image of a withering flower.
However, as he tried to say it all his words got jumbled up. They simply would not come out, as if he had a leaden tongue. He tried again to the same effect. Why could he not give Pen a simple explanation as to why he wanted to give her that charm?
Finally, something came out…though it was not precisely what he had intended to say.
“I felt as if I was withering away like that flower on my travels without your letters to both guide and support me. I need you in my life, Pen. That is why I thought of you when I saw the charm.”
The words came out quickly and it took a moment to process what he had said. He was planning on saying something to the effect of, “I thought it was a flower coming back to life with support from the vine. As you will when I embolden you with charms for your suitors.”
What he had said about himself being the dying flower…well, even though that was the truth within his heart, why had he admitted it aloud?
Penelope, for her part, just observed him, turning her head in confusion. “Colin, are you sure you are well?”
“No, I am not well. I feel as though nothing is the same anymore, and I no longer recognise myself or my home.”
Blast it. He, once again, had not meant to say that. He was supposed to appease her worries, not add to them. Not wanting to speak again, he merely nodded and set his jaw, looking over Penelope’s head at a bush.
“Colin…” Penelope fiddled with her new necklace as she took another step closer to him. “What is troubling you, really? Why are you suddenly so affected? Do you really wish to speak of such things with me?”
“You are correct, I keep saying things I do not intend to. I open my mouth and – well, it is like I cannot control my tongue.”
There, he got those honest words out as he had intended. At least, for once, he would not regret his words in this rather odd conversation.
Penelope took a step back then; he hated that, how now she was retreating from him once again.
“What, Colin?” Pen waited, but he didn’t answer, so she continued. “This makes no sense. Were you sincere in your apology to me and your offer to help me find a husband? Or has this whole conversation been out of your control?”
“Yes?” the word came out like a question.
“So you will help me learn charm? Like we just agreed to?”
He was silent for a long time. What would come out of his mouth if he tried to speak? It was too risky…
“Are you mocking me?” Penelope asked, her voice sharp and her eyes narrowed. “Is that what you came here to do?”
“Pen, no. I would never mock you. I just told you that you are my dearest friend. I am only sincere in my offer to help. I only wish for you to be happy,” his gaze moved down to her chest, focused on the necklace he had bought her.
He heard Rae moving behind him. Clearly, after seeing she wanted to step in. He could not blame her, he too, hated the confusion on Pen’s face. Why did he have to go and say those odd things? And mess up what should have been a pleasant interaction as they mended their friendship?
Wanting to ensure they did not end like this, he spoke up quickly. “May I call on you tomorrow? I think we should discuss our plan in private before we proceed further.”
If he felt less unmoored today, he would have suggested they just meet at Hyde Park and he would offer a few easy suggestions and watch her flirt with eligible gentlemen. But, for some reason, that seemed wrong – as if it would not be productive. And, if his damned tongue kept making him say things he did not want to…well, it would be better for all involved if they were in the relative privacy of the Featherington drawing room.
Penelope, with her brows knit together, at least agreed with him before he made his leave.
The last thing he thought before he left the garden was that his gift had been a perfect choice – the charm necklace looked perfect against Penelope’s creamy skin.
📿
Colin was feeling much improved the next morning. The evening had gone well. Dinner with his family had been loud as always, but he was no longer afflicted with the strange slip of his tongue as he had been with Penelope. No; he was able to jest with Eloise and tell Mum that everything was going well since he was back in Mayfair. Nothing had changed whatsoever.
It was with that confidence that Colin made his way across the street to see Penelope during calling hours. His mum had raised her eyebrows when he said he was going to the Featherington’s, but a quick reminder of his close friendship with Pen was all she needed to nod and drop the subject. Then, while watching him closely, his mum asked him to see if he could find out any reason why Penelope and Eloise were still feuding.
He would try, but given how cagey his sister was about it, he was confident that Penelope would also not open up to him about it. After all, that was the sort of thing she would talk to women about, not him.
The always stern housekeeper, Varley, led him into the drawing room with scarcely a word. And, unsurprisingly, the drawing room felt just as tense. Colin, though he knew both of Penelope’s sisters were now married, had not really considered what that meant for her. How quiet the house might be with just her and her mother. It was no wonder that she wanted to marry to leave her mother’s house, he thought as he walked in.
Penelope was sitting in front of the window alone with a book in her lap, and Lady Featherington was nowhere in sight. His own mother always seemed to seek out the rooms her children were in, but clearly, Penelope’s mother did not have the same interest in spending time with her daughter.
Varley, clearing her throat, announced his presence as Penelope looked up in surprise from her book. “Mister Bridgerton is here for you,” her tone was disinterested. “I will get started on some tea if you would like and tell Rae to join you as a chaperone.”
Colin offered the housekeeper a smile she did not return before she left the room. Penelope, at least, returned his smile and greeting, moving from her perch on the window to one of the couches in front of the fireplace as he sat down opposite her. She looked rather fetching and the fact that she was still wearing the necklace somehow calmed him – it was a sign that she actually had liked his gift.
After a polite bow of his head, he spoke. “Penelope, I trust that you have not changed your mind since we last spoke?”
Penelope, more promptly than he had expected, reassured him that she still wanted him here for one express purpose – to find a suitor. It hurt that she did not wish to see him merely for conversation, to renew their friendship. However, they did not speak more of their scheme, instead conversing about the social events in the upcoming week and what drama may unfold there.
But, changing the topic, Penelope interrupted his meandering comment about biscuits and why the Featherington cook made them so small. “Colin, something odd has occurred that is quite odd and I wondered if you may have an explanation,” Penelope was fiddling with the necklace, looking down at it and then back up at him again. “Rae was unable to remove my necklace last night. Perhaps the clasp is broken…and it is too narrow to be removed over my head.”
Colin was already up and out of his seat, coming around the table to inspect the necklace himself. He did not like thinking of her struggling with it; perhaps her maid’s fingers were simply not adept enough. But, apologising if he was causing her discomfort, he tried to get the necklace off her neck himself. In the back of his mind, he knew his touch was rather improper, but her maid had not appeared yet, and he could not resist helping her. But, his concern over propriety was quickly replaced with annoyance when he also could not get the blasted necklace off. He saw the clasp, but it simply would not come undone. It did not budge.
Pursing his lips, he finally gave up and settled on the sofa next to Penelope, noticing that she appeared quite flushed. “I apologise, Pen. The necklace I bought you must have some sort of problem and I cannot get it off either. Hopefully, it did not bother you when you slept?”
Penelope blushed again before she answered. “Not at all. I just have never had this occur before, and it is all rather odd…”
Colin interrupted her then; feeling like he was at fault. “Surely, you will be able to remove it eventually,” then, blast it, that odd feeling occurred again. He kept talking; forging ahead with a speech he did not plan to say. “I just hope that you do not dislike the necklace so much that it is upsetting you to have to wear it until you can resolve the issue. I think it is lovely on you, myself.”
Pen just shook her head, as if she was dispelling her own thoughts. “I just want to avoid breaking your gift; I do not want the chain to fracture with our efforts to remove it.”
He waved his hand in the air. “No matter. But, besides that, you are well?”
He was asking so much more than if she was well . He was inquiring as to whether or not they were well – if their friendship no longer felt precarious. Colin did not expect her full forgiveness yet, but he at least wanted her to feel confident that he cared.
“Yes. I know there is a ball tonight…but perhaps you could offer me some charm lessons now before that?” Penelope asked. “It would be nice to be able to dance with a gentleman tonight.”
Colin responded without thought. “We dance at almost every ball, Pen. Do I not count as a gentleman?”
“Well, that is because of your mother, and we all know that you would never be a suitor for me. It is merely a dance between friends, so I do not spend my whole evening with my back against the wall.”
He did not like that response, and he said so – thoughtlessly and without his usual tact. What was with him and speaking his mind too freely around Penelope? It seemed to impact no one else but her.
“That is not how I see it. And I certainly do not dance with you as a favour for my mother. You must know that you are my favourite dance partner, Pen.” He took a breath, not wanting to sound as if he was scolding her. “And as for me not being a true suitor for you, I simply do not see it that way.”
In his own head, he was saying: Shut up, shut up, Shut Up!
But his traitorous tongue said what his heart was telling him to say. How could he not hold in his true emotions and words like usual?
He blurted it out, despite himself. “Penelope, I would like to court you.”
“What?”
Colin just stared at her; surely, his eyes were just as wide as hers. Penelope shifted in her seat, practically to the edge of the sofa, in her haste to get further away from him. That was…unexpected. It made his stomach twist, and he regretted eating so much this morning with his family.
Penelope, perched on the edge of the sofa, laughed. “Oh, you jest, Colin. I apologise that it took so long for me to catch on.”
“I am not joking.”
He was certainly not joking. Although he wished he could pull the honest words back into his mouth to prevent this uncomfortable moment, they were the truth. And, for once, he found himself unable to flash a charming smile and talk himself out of this situation with half–truths.
“Do you mean to fake court as practice before I find a suitor? That way, perhaps, your words from the end of last season will not condemn me to failure before I even try? I must say, that is a bold and sneaky idea, Colin.”
Colin moved to correct her, but Penelope kept speaking at a rapid pace. “So is your plan to dance at a few balls early on in the season, perhaps a few promenades…and then, once our courtship abruptly ends, at least the other gentleman knew I was worthy of the affection of a Bridgerton. Of course, the end of our false courtship may lead to some problems, for no one would ever believe I ended it. No matter, it certainly does not leave me in a worse position than I am in now.”
Colin was gaping at her but managed to squeak out his truthful words. “Pen, you know I never would want to damage your prospects.”
“I know. And that is why I am so very appreciative of your offer to help.” Under her breath, Penelope added, “I simply must find a husband this season.”
“So you will…allow me to court you?”
“Yes, let us set a time limit, though. If I do not have any other gentlemen interested in me, let us say…a month, and then we can end the ruse. That way, you have the rest of the season without me holding you back with this scheme.”
Colin could only nod. He did not want to risk speaking and blurting out something to jumble this whole situation up more. Plus, his throat was tight. A month. Only a month. Was that too long or not long enough? He was unsure.
“My mama has allowed me to continue to wear dresses in this new style I prefer and wear my hair down rather than in elaborate twists with bows. Certainly, those things will naturally mean I will be more suited for our task.” Penelope spoke almost in a whisper. “I believe she has given up hope, but it does mean she pesters me less about wearing happy colours and embellishments to draw the eyes of men.”
Rae had entered the room and, given her presence and how he did not want her to overhear their odd conversation, he stood. In a few, awkward and stilted sentences, he promised Penelope that he would dance with her at the next ball and that the next time he came to call on her, he would come armed with flowers.
“Thank you, Colin,” Penelope sounded so sincere as she bid him adieu. “I do appreciate your offer of assistance. You are a very good friend to me.”
“I try to be,” he fumbled for his words – unable to speak with ease as usual. “I merely want to help you, Pen.”
He spoke the truth, but not the whole truth. For he wanted to spend his time this season with Penelope – not as a favour or a scheme to get other men interested in her, but because he found her to be the most compelling friend and no man would ever be worthy of her.
But, for now, he simply must go home and figure out why he kept stumbling over his own tongue in front of Penelope. Where was all the charm he had worked so hard to develop throughout his travels? He no longer felt confident as he walked, but as if everyone, and Penelope worst of all, saw right through his facade, knowing he was only a little boy with no purpose scrambling for a place to belong.