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“For god’s sake Penelope Featherington, are you going to marry me or not?”
The world had stopped. Ended. Penelope had died and gone to heaven. Or perhaps this was hell. The man of her dreams proposing to her like she had dreamed since the day she had met him, knowing full well it would never come true. It might be a just punishment for her sins, she supposed.
“Pen, I need you to breathe,” Colin’s voice cut through her thoughts. She blinked at his entirely too handsome face, looking at her, half hope, half concern, as if his entire world was in the palm of her hand, ready to crumble around him as if it was not the other way around.
“You do not want to marry me.”
Colin laughed this infuriating laugh of his, his gaze so fond, it made her heart ache. “If that were true, proposing to you would have been a badly calculated move.”
Her gaze flicked in between his eyes, searching for any sign of dishonesty. “Are you quite serious?”
As she uttered the words, she heard Lord Bridgerton call out his brother's name and before she could think of an excuse as to why she was unchaperoned with Colin in the gardens, she felt his lips on hers and for the second time that night she felt like the world was ending. Only this time it was.