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Benedict was certainly the first one to notice it or maybe it was Daphne.
Fine, yes, it was indeed his younger sister.
She was quite observant that way – took after their mum when it came to these sorts of things. Maybe it was something ingrained in women, like a genetic code or something. They interpreted body language, talked about sighs and gossiped about couples who didn’t show up at events together.
Benedict preferred the simplicity of being in the studio all day painting or spending an evening at home with his wife and child.
But sometimes, he did notice.
It started off with a pair of wire rimmed glasses that made him do a double take the first time Colin wore them out in public. It was at Mondrich’s, the pub his siblings preferred, one that was always packed with people they knew. And it wasn’t even because someone dared Colin to or he lost a bet to Gregory. He did it willingly . In full view of other people.
Everyone in the family knew his younger brother hated wearing his glasses. He had to get them in middle school when his vision started to blur and their mum noted how he was squinting a little too much at the telly. Colin always complained that since he sweated a lot, the nose pads had a tendency to rust quickly and cause little lesions to appear on his nose. They hurt a lot, scared often then itched like mad. It didn’t help either that some boys at Eton nicknamed him ‘ four eyes ’, and teased him relentlessly about the eyeglasses, as if they’d never seen something so foreign in their lives. This was before Colin shot up and lost all the puppy fat, before he learned to love football and stopped playing video games and reading comic books.
He wore contact lenses ever since his mum agreed to buy him his first pair, reasoning that getting kicked in the face by a football while wearing glasses was not ideal. His mum relented and Benedict saw how his younger brother’s confidence grew even more. He grew his hair, made new friends, wore fitted shirts now that his arms had
The only time Benedict ever saw Colin in glasses was when he had just woken up or was having breakfast at his flat, back when he used to stay with Benedict, before his day truly started and he got rid of them in favor of said contact lenses.
But that night at the pub, he showed up in those eyeglasses. He turned to Sophie, pointing it out and his wife just shrugged, saying how eyeglasses were coming back in style and how it made Colin look quite sweet.
It wasn’t a far fetched notion.
Colin was someone who liked to keep up with trends. His wardrobe growing up was a prime example of that – argyle cardigans, chinos that were ankle length, cowboy boots, a leather jacket that was a size too small, basketball jerseys.
As Colin greeted everyone, Benedict chalked it up to a coincidence and the possibility that the contact lenses had irritated his eyes. Colin would never be caught dead in what he called were his grandpa glasses.
But once was a coincidence. Three times by his count now at Mondrich’s was most definitely not. It was intentional. Maybe Sophie was right. Perhaps it was some new fashion trend he was trying out, like Anthony and those frosted tips back in the day. He’d likely rather die than admit that he took a photo of Nsync era Justin Timberlake to the hairdresser to get them done, thinking they were cool. That lasted for about two weeks before he got them re-dyed to his natural shade of brown.
Their eldest brother made sure all photo evidence of that era were permanently eradicated but he didn’t know about those film canisters Benedict kept in his flat that contained photos of a certain house party featuring frosted tips Anthony. It was blackmail or insurance, Benedict thought, not sure of which it would. He liked that comfort of knowing that Anthony was subjected to some fashion faux pas in his youth, some evidence that Anthony did have those wild teenage years too.
“Is he starting to remind you of someone?”
Benedict arched an eyebrow at Daphne as she slid onto the stool next to him. She plopped a pint of beer on the table for him, gingerly placing her own wine glass on the same table. “Simon says he owes you a beer or something.”
He grinned. Yeah, her husband lost a bet last weekend. Served him right for cheering on a rival football team out of spite.
He took a sip as Daphne tilted her head towards where Penelope and her boyfriend of two months, Alfred, were chatting with Phillip and Eloise. Alfred was in graduate school, busy earning a postgraduate degree in environmental sciences.
He nearly choked on his beer when he noticed that Alfred was wearing wire rimmed glasses too. The lenses were smaller than the ones Colin sported but the idea was the same, Benedict surmised. He pushed them up the bridge of his nose as he explained something to Phillip, the latter nodding along to whatever the taller blonde was saying rather enthusiastically.
His mouth dropped open as he put two and two together. He had only started wearing those eyeglasses after Penelope introduced Alfred, hadn’t he? He looked a bit green when Penelope told them all at this very same pub how they met at a bookshop. She was signing a few copies of her novels and he was looking for a book on birding.
Come to think of it, Colin seemed to only wear the glasses whenever Penelope and Alfred were around. He wasn’t wearing them during dinner at their mum’s two nights ago. He turned towards Daphne. “ No. ”
She pursed her lips, taking a sip of her wine just as Colin reached Penelope and her group. She motioned for Benedict to watch and oh did he watch with great interest.
A passing server squeezed through them and he weaved through the crowd, condensation from the pints of beer he was carrying landed on Colin’s eyeglasses, causing him to grumble.
“I hate these,” he muttered as he took them off, examining the droplets of water warily.
Benedict raised his eyebrows as Daphne snorted beside him. He might have heard her mumble something about Colin being down bad. Benedict had to admit it was a bit unhinged but he knew a thing or two about being unhinged since he spent the better part of a weekend back in university knocking on all the doors in the residency halls until he found the girl who left her glove at a holiday party he attended. Also known as the night of the best first kiss of his entire life. It worked out well. He and Sopnie had been together for over ten years, married for the last eight.
Maybe unhinged ran in the Bridgerton DNA after all.
He watched as Penelope sighed and pried the poor eyeglasses from Colin’s hands. He was probably closer to breaking them in half rather than cleaning them properly. “Then why do you wear them?” She asked, just loud enough for Benedict and Daphne to hear.
Colin blinked at the vague direction of her boyfriend as Penelope was busy cleaning his glasses for him with a table napkin. She did it meticulously, gently, taking care to make sure they were clean before she got on her tiptoes (a feat even in boots several inches tall) and placed the glasses gently back on his face, smiling softly at him. “There, all better?”
He nodded, smiling back goofily, so wide that Benedict wondered if he had won the lottery or a lifetime supply of butter biscuits from their mum’s cook. Nothing made Colin smile so much other than fresh biscuits and also, apparently, Penelope.
“Thanks Pen,” he said, pushing the glasses up his nose, the tips of his ears turning red.
Benedict was probably not as perceptive as Daphne but even he knew that Colin was in love with Penelope, the kind of love that was all encompassing in its devotion and unconditionality. If only he would admit it and do something about it.
Well, do something other than starting to dress like Penelope’s new boyfriend.
Because Jesus, that was just an absolute clusterfuck of a tragedy.
***
“Would it look good if I dyed my hair blonde?”
Daphne tried her hardest not to laugh. They were having brunch together with Eloise at a restaurant in Mayfair that had been around since before Anthony was born. It was the kind of catch up with her siblings that she loved. Lots of gossip about people they knew, lots of discussion on reality shows – because even if Eloise thought herself to be above them, she ate them all up anyway and was usually the first one in the group chat to send reaction gifs about the latest happenings on a show they all tuned in for.
“Like platinum blonde?” She clarified, a snort escaping her unwillingly, just thinking about Colin with platinum blonde locks. It was so weird, so un-Colin in its absurdity that she kind of wanted to see it happen. She clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing in his face. Poor Colin – he looked so earnest, so genuine in his quest for validation and feedback.
He shrugged, tapping his fingers on the table, still waiting for her answer. He continued to drum his fingers and she took it to mean that he really, really needed an answer.
"You're thinking about going blonde?" Daphne asked.
He nodded slowly.
She pulled out her phone, showing him photos of Nicholas Hoult and his newly dyed hair during the Superman press season. She really could not imagine Colin like that. “You want to look like this?”
Colin scrunched his nose in distaste. He shook his head vehemently. “Er, no, no, no , not like that. Christ, I’d look like an absolute tosser with that kind of hair. God, that is – no. Never. I was, well, I was thinking something darker? More, er, natural looking.”
She wanted to point out that there was nothing natural with any of them having blonde hair. They were a brood of eight who had the same chestnut hued hair as their late father. Daphne also wanted to ask why he’d even consider it. Sure, she had her own phase when she was a teenager when she wanted to be a blonde but that quickly went away at the thought of needing to bleach her hair and cause some irreparable damage. She wasn’t even sure if she’d achieve the same level of cool as Christina Aguilera during her dirrty days. She settled for piercing her belly button. It was Eloise who dyed her hair often when they were younger. Anything from bright pink to purple to blue, accompanied by a nose ring and a pierced helix (she talked Eloise out of the tattoo on the insider of her lower lip). For years, Daphne didn’t see her sister’s natural hair color until she decided to stop dyeing it, saying that she was done with that and would prefer complementary honey toned highlights instead. Nobody would take a pink haired professor on gender studies seriously, she had pointed out.
Eloise turned towards Colin, smirking as she flagged a waiter. “Personally, I think you’d look better if you shaved it all off.”
Colin rolled his eyes and flipped Eloise off. She simply stuck her tongue out at him, seemingly in a standoff as they glared at each other. A moment later, Eloise’s phone pinged. She glanced down and smiled.
“I invited Pen. Hope that’s alright?”
Daphne nodded. “Of course. She’s always welcome.” Penelope was like the fifth Bridgerton sister. They spent a lot of time together at Daphne’s flat, back when she was still single, watching rom coms while binging on junk food and cheap supermarket wine, nursing heart breaks and questioning where all the good men were.
“She and Alfred had a row so –”
“They did?” Colin asked suddenly, perking up. “Are they – did they split up?”
There was this hopefulness in his tone that was hard to miss, this lightness at the thought that Penelope was finally single again. Daphne glanced towards Eloise. She didn't seem to notice but her sister was rather dense about these things. She just shook her head and moved on without questioning Colin’s motives or taking note of how Colin suddenly pouted, slumping in his seat like Amelia when Daphne refused to add to her screen time for the week. Daphne would have pried more on why he cared so much if Penelope and Alfred broke up - if only she knew how Eloise felt about the possibility of Colin and Penelope getting together.
Daphne knew it was what their mum had been hoping for. Daphne also knew Hyacinth was already taking bets on when it would happen. Truthfully, Daphne thought it would have by now. Colin came home for good last year, stopped traveling the world, telling her that he realized that he’d rather live in London than keep missing chances.
She took that to mean a lot of things but mostly, a chance with Penelope.
But then, Penelope started dating Alfred and Daphne was left to wonder the lengths Colin would go to try and emulate this man – eyeglasses? Check. Thoughts on going blonde? Check. What was next? Hair closely cropped to the scalp? God, she hoped not. That cut was far too severe for the shape of his face.
“Not as far as I know but you can ask Pen,” Eloise said, looking over his shoulder and waving at someone as she smiled warmly.
Daphne watched as Colin glanced over his shoulder, smiling widely as he spotted Penelope. He waved wildly and all Daphne could think about was ‘oh, Colin, never subtle’ and how she was dying for a mimosa. In fact, if she got them both drunk enough, maybe they’d both admit their undying, burning love for each other and all of this could be solved. Daphne would be her mum's favorite child for finally getting the two of them together. A win in everyone's book. Penelope smiled as she waved back. She was in a white maxi dress, hair in a loose ponytail. She dropped her purse on the chair next to Colin’s as she greeted them all with hugs. Daphne didn’t miss how Colin hugged her a little longer, how they swayed, left to right, left to right, how Penelope’s cheeks were tinged pink.
And Daphne was not one to swear but holy fuck , were they oblivious as hell or what? Like, if she knocked their heads together, would it even make a sound?
Colin had never even been subtle about his shapeshifting tendencies, Daphne realized all of a sudden as Colin pulled the chair out for Penelope, helping her with it. Eloise ordered a ton of food for them to share, saying that she was famished, as Daphne continued to be lost in her thoughts.
Yes, Colin did seem to take on whatever form Penelope’s boyfriends were. There was, of course, Alfred, the blonde vegetarian. And if Colin really wanted to commit, he’d stop eating meat altogether (and if he did, Daphne would be the first to smack him in the head because that would be too much ). Dressing like some nerdy professor/Clark Kent pre-Superman makeover was already tethering on unhinged.
There was that goth wannabe guy once when Penelope had been at university. Daphne met him twice. He was in some punk rock band and Penelope had met him during a gig she went to with a few friends. He had jet black hair, a couple of tattoos, rather pale skin and wore only black. He also had a pierced tongue. She knew Colin spiraled about that one because suddenly, his Spotify playlist consisted only of The Grateful Dead, My Chemical Romance and Green Day, like he was trying to get into it, even if Colin’s musical taste boarded on something mellower than loud screams and unlimited drums and synths. He even showed up to that one gig Penelope invited them all to with his left earlobe pierced, sporting a dangling earring that had a skull on it.
Penelope had gaped at him, asked him why he did it and he simply shrugged and said it looked cool and punk rock . Penelope admitted to Daphne soon after that punk rock music wasn’t her thing. The scene was too wild for her and all she wanted to do was watch rom coms or read one of her favorite regency romances in the comforts of her dorm.
As soon as Colin found out about the break up, he lost the earring and stopped listening to that sort fo music.
Then there was the artist who she met at one of Benedict's shows. They went out for a few months and he’d give her little paintings or sketches that she adored and kept tacked to the refrigerator at her flat. For that period of time, Colin tried to learn how to draw and try was truly the operative word here because he was so, very, very bad at it. Eloise teased him endlessly about it, saying that Edmund drew better than him. Gregory wondered once why he was sketching circles (they were supposed to be oranges). Even Francesca couldn’t find anything nice to say and she was the most diplomatic of them. Benedict offered him lessons and he took a few classes, abruptly stopping them when Penelope broke up with the artist guy, saying that they didn’t have anything in common.
“What’s up?” Penelope asked as glanced around the table.
“Colin’s having a crisis.” Eloise deadpanned.
She eyed him in concern, touching his arm lightly. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”
Daphne couldn’t resist it then. She had to tease him just a tiny bit. “He’s thinking of dyeing his hair blonde. Maybe it’s a midlife crisis?”
Colin pouted, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child. “I am not having a bloody midlife crisis. I’m not even 30 yet.”
Penelope looked at him in horror. It was like Daphne had told her that Colin had decided to be a cannibal and that he ate children for fun. “Why would you even consider dyeing your hair?" She eyed him seriously, glancing at his hair, a curl had fallen onto his forehead, dislodged from the coif that looked effortless but one that Daphne knew Colin spent at least thirty minutes on. Penelope bit her lower lip before continuing, "it’s perfect.”
He blinked at her, and Daphne noticed how his eyes trailed toward her hand, which was still on his arm, as if noticing it for the first time. “It - it is? You think my hair is perfect?”
It was said in this hushed sort of reverence, as though Colin couldn’t quite believe that Penelope had said that, said that he was perfect.
(Okay, just his hair but still).
He was looking at her in the same sort of way their dad looked at their mum, in the way Daphne liked to remember him. For a moment, her heart ached at the memory, at the realization that Colin and Penelope shared that kind of relationship. They just didn’t see it or wouldn’t. Daphne was leaning towards the latter. Perhaps they were both terrified that the other would not return their feelings. She had a bit of experience with that.
Penelope seemed to have come back to herself then, blushing prettily as she tried to change her tone, stammering out, “I, well, yes. I’ve always envied how all of your hair is this beautiful shade of chestnut brown.” She gestured around the table almost shyly. “It’s truly the perfect shade and I envy it sometimes.”
“What? No, Pen,” Eloise said loyally. “Your hair color is the perfect shade. Red looks incredible, fiery, bright and not anyone call pull it off. Colin certainly can't.”
Daphne pursed her lips. It was getting too hard not to laugh at how Colin deflated slightly at Penelope’s words, at how he began to sulk because she said their hair color was perfect and not just his. He played with the condensation on his glass of water, swirling a finger around it and making patterns until Penelope tugged at his shirt and leaned in closer.
“Please don’t dye your hair, Colin,” Penelope whispered urgently.
He blinked at her. She pleaded with her eyes. "Please?"
“I won’t,” he promised.
Penelope beamed and Colin grinned in return.
Daphne had this sudden urge to scream ‘oblivious’ at the top of her lungs but then Eloise spoke just as the food arrived.
“What did you and Alfred row about?”
“Oh, well, I have tickets to see Noah Kahan at Hyde Park next weekend but he doesn't want to go,” Penelope replied, sighing loudly. She grabbed a chip from the basket, chewing on it slowly. Daphne could see that she looked defeated.
“You mean, he can’t go?” Daphne asked, frowning. The way she phrased it sounded odd so Daphne felt the need to clarify.
Penelope shook her head glumly. “No, he doesn’t like crowds and he’s not a big fan of music so –”
“Who doesn’t like music?” Colin interrupted loudly. “Especially Noah Kahan. He’s fucking phenomenal.”
Penelope sighed. “I know. I was looking forward to it. I guess I’ll have to sell the tickets.”
“What? Pen, don’t do that. I’ll go with you,” Colin offered. “I’ve been really hoping to catch him in concert ever since you sent me that link to that one song.”
Her face brightened. “You will?”
“Of course. It’ll be great. Cold beers, great music. We can finally sing along to ‘Stick Season ’ at the top of our lungs live instead of to the live album,” he said, grinning. "I'll pick you up. We can even grab late night burgers afterwards or fish and chips."
“Do you think he’ll play some of his older songs?”
Colin nodded, still smiling at her.
Daphne watched, fighting that urge to simultaneously groan and roll her eyes. She wanted to sing ‘oblivious’ to the tune of ‘You’ll Be Back' from Hamilton so, so badly. She'd even do a jig if it meant that she could get their attention and drive her point across. Colin and Penelope were so deep in conversation about the concert that even Eloise couldn’t get a word in. They were buzzing with excitement and Daphne did not miss how Penelope blushed when Colin complimented her hair.
“I feel like I’m missing something,” Eloise stage whispered to Daphne as Penelope pulled her phone out to show Colin something. There were discussions about matching outfits and what time they should get to the venue, about Colin possibly staying over at her flat if their night ended a little too late.
Daphne chuckled as she patted Eloise’s hand. “Oh, El, have I got a story for you..”
***
“That is an interesting choice of a coat,” Kate muttered to Francesca.
She looked towards where Colin was talking to Anthony, Benedict and Gregory. He was in this sort of coat/blazer hybrid with those patches at the elbows that Francesca thought belonged in an 80s drama rather than in the year 2025. Possibly, she would need to steal it and burn it. Francesca was not one to judge outfits as harshly as some of her other siblings but the coat was absolutely rubbish. She grimaced as Colin began to fan himself.
“Interesting is a word for it. It’s sweltering,” she replied. It was closer to summer than spring. Everyone was gathered at this outdoor venue for dinner and drinks. It was an annual charity event of Bridgerton Capital and as Bridgertons, they were all in attendance, together with some of the executives from the company and some friends from high society. What Francesca would give to be back in Scotland, in the comforts of the drawing room with the grand piano instead of rubbing elbows with people she barely knew. "Has this been going on for long?"
Kate snorted. "Yep. It started with the glasses, then the clothes and the hair. I saw him googling tips on how to grow a beard quickly once during lunch."
Francesca shook her head. Colin showed up looking like he was cosplaying as someone else. He still had those wire rimmed glasses on. His hair was styled differently (read: plenty of gel). His clothes were different too. There was a lot of khaki as of late and that heinous coat tonight apparently. He did not resemble her brother at all and if he wasn’t too busy sulking by the entrance like a dog waiting for its owner to return home, Francesca might have made a joke about an interloper joining them tonight.
Because surely this wasn’t Colin, right? This was some impostor pretending to be Colin pretending to be someone else.
But then someone came through the entrance and Colin looked like an excited puppy about to fetch a tennis ball, perking up almost immediately. His entire face lit up, brighter than Francesca had seen recently, only to dim around three seconds later when he noticed Penelope holding hands with Alfred as they came down the steps. The blonde man had on a similar colored blazer, complete with those bloody elbow patches. His hair gelled down in this very distinct manner, sporting a blonde bear.
Ah, she thought. There it was. Followed by:
Oh, Colin.
“Now that is a tragedy of epic proportions,” Kate said. “The two of them are still not able to figure it out.”
They looked on as Colin greeted Alfred and Penelope briefly. He shook Alfred hand before hugging Penelope tightly, closing his eyes like he was saving the moment, unwilling to let go. Alfred saw someone he knew and he pulled Penelope along with him. Colin looked on sadly. She wanted so badly to head over to him and give him a hug. But Francesca had to agree with Kate. It was indeed a tragedy that they could not get their shit together. It was driving her up the wall because for as long as she could remember, it had been Colin and Penelope.
Colin and Penelope sharing inside jokes and secret smiles in the library at Aubrey Hall. Eloise complained about being left out. She was not meant to be the third wheel according to her, it was always supposed to be Colin. But Eloise eventually met Phillip and the four of them went out often until Penelope’s latest boyfriend came along and Colin, well, he didn’t like being the fifth wheel very much.
On Penelope’s graduation day from university, Colin surprised her. He was supposed to be on some small island filming for a travel show but he flew home in time to watch her march across the stage to get her degree, waiting for her with a bouquet of hydrangeas. She bought him those leather bound journals he loved, even had his initials engraved on them and for some reason, Francesca thought it would just be a matter of time before they got together.
Surely, based on the way they acted around each other, they were in love?
Because there was friendship and then there was Colin and Penelope.
And especially Colin in this sort of deranged, backwards peacocking. God, he was cosplaying as Penelope’s boyfriend and Francesca didn’t want to watch this cringe filled moment except she could not keep her eyes off this trainwreck waiting to happen.
She wasn’t the type to crave for this kind of drama in her life, or even in her siblings’, but her date was coming up in the betting pool. She was weighing the possibility that meddling was better than not meddling. If only for the pride and of course, winning.
But she did make certain promises not to meddle - but promises could be broken right? For the greater good and their collective sanity.
“Do you think they ever will?” She asked Kate, worry seeping into her tone.
Kate snorted. “I hope so. I miss seeing the actual Colin. Not this person who dresses like a fifty year old history professor or Mr. Bean.”
Francesca tilted her head a fraction to the side. Huh. She could kind of see that Mr. Bean reference, especially with that stiff hair.
Kate excused herself, saying she had to play hostess but moments later, she was replaced by Hyacinth and Felicity, the two providing Francesca with some rather interesting and comedic commentary as they leaned close to each other, mumbling and gossiping.
“Colin, I was rooting for you before that jacket.” Felicity said as she took a rather large swig of her pink colored cocktail.
“And the hair, Fliss. Let’s not forget about the hair. It is truly awful. My eyeballs need bleaching.”
“Not as bad as that jacket. Hey Colin, the fashion police called and they’re about to put you in jail.”
Francesca let out a laugh, shaking her head.
“God, there’s two of them now,” Felicity grumbled. “If Colin starts talking about birds, I’m giving up on him.”
“No! We have to be sisters.” Hyacinth mumbled.
Francesca wanted to point out that technically, that wasn’t possible unless Felicity married into the family but the words died in her throat as she watched Colin approach Alfred and Penelope again, handing her a glass of white wine.
She noticed how Penelope frowned, glancing between the two men, looking Colin up and down with narrowed eyes. Francesca realized that she was taking stock of his outfit, all of it and she did not look happy at all. Her mouth was a thin line and her cheeks were flushed, but it wasn’t that type of flush that was brought about by flirty exchanges or sweet words.
No, this was anger bubbling to the surface. Because Penelope might have just realized that Colin was dressing just like her boyfriend.
Did Francesca say she didn’t like drama? Perhaps that was a lie.
She would give anything to listen in on that particular conversation. She got the next best thing when Hyacinth dragged Felicity towards the empty cocktail table right next to where the three were congregated, pretending to laugh at something Felicity said as they leaned closer.
Hyacinth created a new chat
Felicity renamed the new chat to ‘totally spies 💛💚❤️’
Hyacinth: omg this guy is soooo boring
Hyacinth: they’re talking about birds
Hyacinth: shocking
Felicity: he’s droning on and on and on about birds
Felicity: does he know how to talk about anything else?
Felicity: pen looks so bored
Hyacinth: we're over here eavesdropping and I'm about to fall asleep from boredom
Hyacinth: this is the world's best lullaby
Felicity: someone needs to save her
Hyacinth: help
Felicity: ??????
Hyacinth: ??????
Felicity: 🤨
Hyacinth: stfu colin what
Francesca: what is going on??
Hyacinth : colin just started talking about birds
Felicity: about how he apparently loves birds
Francesca blinked, making sure she read it correctly. Colin had a lot of hobbies but birds? Most definitely not.
Francesca: bold of him to lie in front of pen
Felicity: pen doesn’t look happy
Hyacinth: now he’s talking about how he loves grass…
Hyacinth: oh col no don’t do it
Hyacinth: awkward conversation is awkward
Felicity: we were all rooting for you colin
Hyacinth: he's given both pen and me the ick
Francesca: update pls
Felicity: he loves grass because its green…
Hyacinth: i mean could be another type of grass
Francesca: i can’t defend him on this one
She continued to watch as Penelope gaped at Colin. He seemed to have dug himself into an even deeper grave.
“What the fuck has gotten into Colin?”
Francesca turned to her left to find Michaela, with this look of utter shock on her face, holding two wine glasses in her hands. Francesca took one of the offered glasses, kissing her girlfriend’s cheek lightly in thanks. Michaela’s expression turned sour as she got the full experience of an unhinged, down bad Colin.
“Peacocking,” she replied as if that explained everything.
“Babe, that is only ugly peacock. Jesus. How much product did he put in his hair for it to look that stiff. He’s going to go bald if he doesn’t put down the hair gel. Hold on, is he beginning to look like?”
“Penelope’s boyfriend? Yes, yes he is. It’s this thing he does,” Francesca explained. “You know how he is when it comes to Pen.”
“A complete mess?” Michaela supplied.
Well, yes, Francesca thought.
For someone who read others so well, he was shockingly so unorganized when it came to his own life and feelings. Colin had been the one to talk to Francesca about guilt and having feelings for someone you shouldn’t have and okay, maybe in hindsight, he was basing that off personal experience. But Colin knew them all so well, knew that Francesca needed to come to terms with John’s death in her own time, knew when to talk about him and when not to push. He also knew how to talk to Michaela, to make them both finally realize there was no guilt and shame in loving each other, in falling in love with each other despite that grief hanging in the air between them. He told Francesca that he couldn’t know her pain, but that he knew of someone who did, someone who could be good for her and good to her if she allowed herself to open up her heart to love again.
She just wished that he could do that for himself too, realizing that he didn’t need to be someone else to impress Penelope. Because Penelope always looked at his a certain way and all this change in how he acted and dressed was only causing a lot of confusion.
“Come on,” Francesca said, looping her arm with Michaela’s. “I’m getting hungry and they have those appetizers that you love.”
She took one last look at her brother, Penelope and Alfred, signaling towards Hyacinth and Felicity that she didn’t need any further updates. She had to have a tiny kernel of hope that they’d eventually find their way towards each other.
Maybe when they were in their 40s or something.
That wouldn’t be too late, would it?
Perhaps it was time to update her date in the betting pool.
***
“Studying the migration patterns of the great auk,” Alfred replied to Colin’s question and Penelope found herself stifling a yawn.
She and Alfred didn’t have much in common. He loved nature documentaries, hikes and bird watching. His research primarily focused on extinct birds and every time he told her all this with such excitement, she had to stop her eyes from glazing over, from wondering if she needed to do laundry tomorrow or the day after that. All she wanted was a quiet night in watching her favorite rom coms and cuddling on the sofa but so far, she had been forced to attend conferences, dinners with other researchers where her nose nearly bled from the amount of scientific terms she had to hear.
“And how is that going so far?” Colin asked. For a second, Penelope was fooled into thinking that Colin cared. He looked like he cared but he had that same glazed over expression whenever Anthony talked about stock options. Penelope would bet her kidney that he wasn't absorbing anything Alfred was telling him. Colin took a swig of his wine, eyeing Penelope nervously.
Yeah, he was definitely faking it.
Penelope narrowed her eyes at him. She had known Colin Bridgerton since he was thirteen and she was ten. He had never, ever shown any interests in birds or in science or in the environment (other than agreeing that climate change was bad and he hoped the damage was still repairable). Colin loved video games and collecting comic books when he was a kid. He even taught Penelope how to play his favorite game even, told her she did great even if she was really bad at it. She observed how he changed over time - he lost weight, got really into football and running but despite his change in appearance, the fact that he went from cute and sweet to hot (as pointed out once by Philippa), he was still the same dorky Colin she grew up with, who shared his favorite songs with her and recommended some of the best restaurants to her, even brought her (and Eloise) to a trip once to Edinburgh.
Whoever this person in front of her was, it was most certainly, 100% not her Colin.
“Great. I’ve been spending a lot of time at the archives of the British Natural Museum. They have some interesting studies available to the public and I've been enjoying taking time out to go through them,” Alfred replied. He glanced at Penelope briefly, smiling softly. “I’ve been trying to convince Penelope to go with me.”
She smiled tightly. She loved certain types of museums - the art ones – but spending a day talking about birds and reading about them was a like a form of torture to her. She had to admit that she was very close to breaking up with Alfred. He was nice and all, kind, predictable and most importantly, he was safe. He wouldn't be the type to break her heart. Unlike some people. She knew what he liked (birds) and again, he was very, very, safe.
“Maybe the three of us can go then?” Colin asked, looking hopefully at Penelope.
She raised an eyebrow at him. There was something distinctly weird about Colin. He started talking more about birds whenever they hung out, more about nature and other similar topics he never showed interest in before. Now, he was acting as if they were in this dysfunctional kind of throuple about to go on this museum date to read about birds.
And what the fuck was up with his hair?
She glared at him as she answered stiffly. “I’m pretty busy. Deadlines and all, you know. That next novel’s not going to write itself but the two of you can enjoy yourselves at the museum. Feel free to go without me.”
She pictured Alfred and Colin hanging out at the museum in their matching eyeglasses, khaki trousers and neatly parted hair, talking about puffins or penguins or whatever other birds they wanted.
She stilled.
Eyeglasses. Khaki trousers. That bloody blazer.
Hold the fuck on.
She glanced at Colin once again, clocking the beige colored jacket he had on, wool even by the looks of it. It was much too hot to even wear a jacket like that with the current weather in London. Then, she looked at her boyfriend, similarly dressed, a little too similarly dressed.
She was having a hard time putting two and two together because why was Colin mirroring Alfred this way? Had she missed something? Since when did Colin decide to change his whole wardrobe in favor of something that looked like it was pulled out of Alfred’s closet. She had never known Colin to act this way. He had such a strong sense of self. Her head was spinning with far too many theories and possibilities that she knew the only true option was to simply pull her best friend aside and ask him point blank. She had to make sure he didn’t have the opportunity to come up with a lie or an excuse.
“Alfred, is it okay if Colin and I have a little chat?” She asked sweetly, schooling her face to emit at least a passable smile that did not look pained.
“Sure.” Alfred nodded, not sensing that anything was amiss. Bless him.
“I think they have some vegetarian hors d'oeuvres available,” she told him as she yanked Colin towards a secluded area. She didn’t miss the way Hyacinth and Felicity followed them with their eyes. She was pretty sure they were listening in on the whole conversation earlier and by the looks of how they schooled their expressions to be ones of identical angelic innocence, Penelope was sure she was right. She shot them a look, more like a warning, not to follow them. Hyacinth saluted her as Felicity held her palms up in surrender.
“He’s a vegetarian?” Colin asked incredulously as she pushed him into the supply closet, closing the door behind her. He looked disgusted almost and she chose not to dignify that with a response.
“What’s going on, Colin?” She demanded instead, placing her hands on her hips.
He blinked at her, feigning innocence but she could tell there was something behind his green eyes. “What do you mean?”
“You’re not yourself.”
He huffed.
“Why the sudden interest in birds?”
“I like birds.”
“Really? Name one.”
“Er, a sparrow.”
She arched an eyebrow his way. “Really? A sparrow? That’s what you’re going with?”
He tilted his chin upward in defiance. “I know it’s not the great auk but one should never overlook the sparrow. It is a fine species.”
Fine species?
God, was he maddening or what?
None of this explained his sudden interest or even why he began to dress so differently from the Colin she knew. It was not a vibe she liked at all. She missed the Colin who wore that familiar cologne and the softest shirts whenever they were watching an episode of a new show at his flat, her cheek pressed against his chest as she curled close to his side. She missed when he talked to her about anything but those fucking birds.
(No offense meant to birds.)
“You are so - so - ugh! I can’t even find a word for it, Colin. You start wearing glasses you don’t like. You’re sweating profusely because you’re in a wool jacket in this 30 degree heat and your hair, it’s –”
He patted his head lightly, frowning. “What’s wrong with my hair? Don’t you like it like this? I thought -”
She shook her head. “I don’t like any of it because you don’t look like yourself, Colin. I like the way you dress and how your hair curls at the ends when it gets too long and how it falls in your eyes and how your green eyes are always so bright, so filled with mirth and excitement but now they’re kind of hard to see with the glasses and I like how -”
Oh. She paused.
Oh.
It hit her like a ton of bricks. There was a reason why her relationships always failed, why they never lasted more than six months at most. She always thought it was because she was picky, that these men failed to tick all the right boxes. But now, she knew that the reason why each ended was because she compared every single one of them to Colin, her best friend. She made him the benchmark and nobody could ever compare.
Because who else knew what kind of books to get her (the regency ones with lots of smut) or what she liked to eat when her period was coming or what film to put on to cheer her up or what to say when she had a very shitty day?
Colin knew all of those things. He made her laugh, told absurd, made up tales to make her feel better when she was feeling anxious or sad. He spent nights at her flat sleeping on the sofa when they had watched too many episodes of that true crime documentary and it was too late for him to head home. He made her breakfast and tea and coffee so willingly, so freely that maybe, truly, all this time all those other men never quite stood a chance.
“I like you ,” she whispered, unable to stop herself. A lot, she added in her head. She liked him a lot.
He met her eyes with wide ones, as if he couldn’t quite believe her. “You - you do?”
She nodded slowly, biting down on her bottom lip. “Just as you are, Colin. I like you just as you are. Kind, sweet, occasionally excitable, funny.”
He chuckled darkly. “I was trying to impress you, you know? I’m not the intellectual sort and I don’t have that fascination with birds or anything. I don't have a master's degree in zoology or biology or whatever. I thought that maybe if I was different, if I tried to be like the man you were dating you’d finally see me. I, well, I may have taken it a bit too far this time around but God, Pen, I like you too. So much. I’ve liked you for years and I was too scared to tell you because you might not like me back. I mean, I more than like you and well -”
He glanced down at his shoes, then at his outfit. It was like the spell had been lifted and he scowled at the coat. “Christ. This jacket is awful. It belongs in a rubbish bin.”
She let out a laugh, watching as he took the offending garment off and chucked it somewhere towards the back. He pulled her towards him, eyes trailing down towards her lips. She felt this current of anticipation run through her as he leaned in and as he was about to kiss her, she turned her face to the side, his lips landing on her cheek instead. She barely remembered.
“We can’t.” She whispered.
His eyebrows knitted together. It was if he was in pain. “What? Why?”
“Well, not yet. There’s still Alfred,” she attempted to explain. He was a good guy. He deserved the truth.
Colin shifted on his feet, sighing.
“I’ve been meaning to break up with him,” Penelope admitted. “I know I sound so awful but it isn't working. We fight a lot about the most stupid things and he’s leaving soon for some research trip to Antarctica anyway.” She shrugged. "It wasn't meant to last."
“You could never be awful,” he told her, interlacing their fingers. He touched his lips to the back of her hand, eyes never leaving hers. “I can wait. I’ve waited this long,” he murmured, breath hot against her skin. “What’s one more day, right?”
She felt it like she was on fire, like that mere admission sent shivers down her spine, that she’d faint at the boldness of his words. She could wait too because she knew now exactly how she felt, got a hold of that name to the feeling she associated only with him.
coffee dates, cinnamon buns, childlike wonder, tons and tons of laughter, film quotes and book quotes and chestnut curls.
It was love.
She touched his cheek lightly, tracing the curve of his jaw. “I more than like you too.”
He groaned, as if he was being tortured slowly and painfully with a blunt butter knife, being stabbed repeatedly. “I will correct my previous statement. How fast can you get rid of him? I really want to kiss you, Pen.”
She blushed at his words as he pulled her closer. “Soon. Soon. But first, can you wash your hair?”
***
Colin grinned as he interlaced his fingers with hers. “Are you sure about this? We can wait one more week.”
Penelope shook her head. “We’ve sworn five people to secrecy. It’s not going to stay a secret forever. One of them is bound to slip up.”
Colin laughed. She was right. They had convinced five people to not spill the beans because they had been caught several times snogging in random corners.
There had been Anthony that first time when he found them in the kitchen, kissing instead of making coffee as they promised. Colin told him about those old photos with him and that Justin Timberlake hairstyle, even producing an old photo that he kept tucked away in a vault, which shut Anthony right up.
The second time, it had been Kate, her mum and her younger sister, Edwina. They were out on a date at some random coffee shop so small that Colin and Penelope were sure nobody they knew would go there. Turned out, it was Edwina’s favorite coffee shop in London and while there was nothing compromising (just a bit of handholding), Colin had to agree to babysit Kate and Anthony’s kids for the rest of the month to buy their silence.
A small price to pay especially if he would be babysitting with Penelope.
Then there was Felicity, who had decided to crash at Penelope’s flat only to find Colin making breakfast one morning, clad only in a pair of boxers, humming as he moved the eggs around in the pan. She spun around and averted her eyes, saying that she was going to stay with Prudence instead. She left and Penelope called her. It had been a long conversation with a lot of giddy yelling from Felicity’s end but Penelope assured him that Felicity would keep it to herself for the foreseeable future lest she remain unwelcome at Penelope’s flat and they both knew how she felt about having to stay at Prudence’s for prolonged periods of time.
They walked into Number Five, hand in hand and he waited for someone to notice. Of course it was Daphne, who let out a loud shriek, knocking over one of their mum’s potted plants in the process.
A commotion ensued – there were a lot of questions, a lot of comments, several swear words were thrown about and a whole lot of ‘f inally ’s. Anthony clasped him on the shoulder, whispering urgently if he could get rid of that one photo. Colin agreed, knowing that his other siblings likely had copies stashed somewhere far, far away from Anthony.
Colin couldn't agree more about that sentiment of finally as he glanced at Penelope. His mum was hugging her, telling her how long she dreamed of this moment (that makes two of us, mum, he thought). He was very glad that he didn’t need to keep wearing those eyeglasses or that itchy jacket. Khaki wasn’t really his color and he promised Penelope he’d go easy on the gel, especially after she revealed how much she liked running her fingers through his hair.
“So, when did this begin?” Benedict asked curiously.
“The day after the charity event at the conservatory.” He replied, still grinning widely. They had agreed that was the official date. First kiss. First date. First time they slept together. A beginning. The first day of the rest of their lives.
“Really?” Michaela inquired, this strange gleam in her eyes that Colin didn’t like. It was like she had some sort of nefarious plan.
“Yeah, why?”
Michaela marched over to Hyacinth, holding her hand out triumphantly. Hyacinth frowned as she consulted her phone before handing over a wad of cash to Michaela.
“I cannot believe you got it right,” Hyacinth muttered.
“He wasn’t going to go after her when she still had a boyfriend,” Michaela replied, winking at Colin. “He’s too much of a gentleman.”
Colin’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “What’s with all the money?”
Hyacinth rolled her eyes as Michaela counted her winnings. “There was this bet to see when you two would get together and Michaela was the one to get it right. I always expected it to be Daff or Kate. Eloise put it down for when Colin turned 50. To be fair, Gregory had you guys down for Christmas 2026.”
Penelope snorted as Colin clucked his tongue at his youngest brother. “O ye of little faith.”
“Maybe I was hoping she’d end up with another Bridgerton,” Gregory countered. “It’s not too late to change your mind, Penelope. I’ve read that women prefer younger men.”
“Imagine Colin trying to act and dress like Greg,” Francesca pointed out, smiling widely.
“I’d pay to see that,” Benedict added.
Anthony shook his head. "Would you wear those hoodies that are three sizes too big, Colin?"
Gregory huffed. "I do not wear those!"
Daphne snorted. She pointed out, "you're wearing one now."
Gregory looked down. He was indeed in a too large blue hoodie with the logo of his favorite football team on the front.
Colin grumbled but Penelope wrapped an arm around his waist, drawing him closer. He glanced at her smiling face.
"Sorry Greg, there's only one Bridgerton for me," she announced, getting on her tiptoes and kissing Colin's cheek lightly.
Gregory mimed being stabbed in the heart but he was all smiles. His entire family was. His mum was possibly crying. Hyacinth was on the phone with Felicity, taking rapidly. Yeah, his family could joke and tease him about how long it took for them to get together, about that bloody earring he wore a few times in his youth, the drawing classes, the unappealing outfits, thoughts of dyeing his hair blonde, but they did get together and that was what truly mattered.
He’d let this bet slide too. He was far too happy with his life to care.
“You know what?” He asked Penelope. She arched an eyebrow at him. “I think we should leave a bit early. Like right after coffee and cake.”
“You do, huh?”
“Yeah. Lots of big plans – watching Notting Hill and eating Chinese takeaway with my girlfriend in our little blissful bubble without nosy family members around. We can pop by the shops to grab some wine and beer and candy."
She sighed dreamily. “That sounds absolutely perfect.”
He agreed wholeheartedly. Everything was perfect.
"You're perfect," he whispered into her hair, kissing her forehead lightly.
Someone made a retching sound.
"Oh God, the two of you are about to be so insufferable, aren't you?" Eloise asked loudly.
"Yes," they replied at the same time.
And Colin, well, he really wouldn't have it any other way.