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The new Lord Featherington was two months old when he took up residence in his titled home. It had taken the solicitors one month to work through all the paperwork and another for his parents to feel sufficiently prepared for the move. After all, the weeks following their son's birth had been a flurry of activity, and they treasured the extra time as a family of three before taking on the responsibilities of a barony.
He spent the first night in a bassinet by the side of his parents' new bed, lifted swiftly into his father's arms upon waking before being passed over to his mother for feeding. He had no concept of how rare it was to be cared for in such a manner, nor indeed of his worldly status, but his parents could not resist spending at least their first night all together.
"Good morning, Lord Featherington," his father murmured to him, stroking his hair gently as he suckled. In lieu of being able to press a kiss to his adorable cheeks, Colin ducked his lips to behind Penelope's ear. She sighed in response, bringing her free hand around his neck to softly scratch his scalp. He let himself bask in his happiness for a few moments longer before extracting himself with a groan.
"Where are you going?" Penelope questioned with a pout. She reached for his hand to pull him back to her.
"I must get ready to meet Anthony," he responded, eyes full of regret. Unable to resist his wife's pull, he laid back down on his front and brought her reaching hand to his mouth. "He's coming over at 10 o'clock to help me look over the finances."
Penelope studied him, earnest as he was in his regret. She would much rather spend the morning not leaving their suite, but she couldn't very well put off her brother-in-law's gracious offer of assistance. "Very well," Penelope huffed, pushing away the hair that fell into his eyes. "I shall come and join you once Elliot is ready."
"You shall go back to sleep," he countered softly. "You were up almost every hour last night." Penelope shook her head and opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off: "Please. Let me handle this. You need not concern yourself. I promise to tell you everything once you have rested."
Penelope narrowed her eyes at his phrasing, but she couldn't bring herself to dampen his determination. "If I must," she agreed somewhat reluctantly, softening as relief flooded her husband's expression. "I love you very much, you know," she murmured.
"I know," Colin responded with a small smirk. He pressed his lips to her knuckles once more before rising, his jaw tightening at the desire that entered her expression at his cheek. He shook his head at himself. He must not think about all the ways he wanted to ravish his wife when he faced a tedious morning discussing finances with his brother. Still, he paused at the door, letting his eyes drink in the sight of her--adorably ruffled by sleep, giving nourishment to the life they had made. Penelope lifted an eyebrow at his hesitation. "I never dreamed I would see so beautiful a sight as this," he said by way of explanation. "The woman I love so very much with our perfect son. If I were any happier, I am quite certain my heart would burst."
Penelope rolled her eyes at his dramatics but could not keep the smile off of her face. "Go," she commanded, "before your brother gets here." With a grin, Colin bowed to her, blowing her a kiss before ducking out of the room. Even as his valet helped him dress, his thoughts lingered in the bed chamber. What had he done to deserve his good fortune?
One look at the Featherington accounts brought him hurtling back to earth. The ledgers, going back several years, were full of crossed out numbers and erratic scribbles: dubious deposits and irregular withdrawals. Anthony helped him tally through the totals, trying and failing to hide the grimness in his expression. Eventually, Colin wouldn't reach his eyes, feeling overwhelmed at the state of his new responsibility. It appeared, at least, as though many of the debts had either been paid off or had had interest payments maintained, but it was evident that the estate's current income would not pay off the rest, nor sustain the family in the long term.
A soft knock on the door interrupted their discussion of land rent and disaster reserves and how to best invest the funds from Colin's inheritance. They looked up to see Penelope pushing open the door to the study, better rested and significantly more composed than Colin had left her. "How goes it?" she asked tentatively.
Colin looked up at Anthony, unsure how to answer. His only response was a sympathetic grimace. Colin rose with a sigh, laying down his quill. "It goes," he answers eventually, his eyes flickering up to meet his wife's concerned gaze before sheepishly returning to the desk.
"That badly?" Colin's heart broke at her despondency, and he hastened to reassure her.
"You need not worry, my love," he gushed, moving around the desk to grasp her hands. His bemusement at their matching ink stains gave his heart the tiniest lift before he heard Anthony's voice behind him.
"Colin is right," the viscount affirmed. "We will take care of everything. With Colin's inheritance, sound investments, and the proceeds from his novel, there will be more than enough to right the ship before Elliot becomes of age."
Penelope shook her head as guilt flooded her at the burden her family had left her husband. "You should not be using all of your inheritance to restore our status."
"Pen, that is what it is there for. I--"
"The first of the money shall be taken from my Whistledown earnings," she interrupted firmly. Colin's mouth dropped open. "Then we may discuss other resources."
"Absolutely not," he protested immediately. "That is out of the question. That is your money."
Penelope shook her head, frustration rising within her. "And your inheritance is yours."
"Pen, it is my responsibility to--"
"Anthony, would you leave us for a few moments?" Her sharp words cut through her husband's protestations, the pair's intense gazes not leaving one another even as the viscount looked between them.
"Of course," the man murmured after a pause. He walked past the pair, stopping to open his mouth to offer his advice before he thought better of it. He nodded to them both. "I shall return after lunch. Send word if you would like me to bring our solicitor."
"Thank you," Colin breathed, letting go of some of the tension he held to offer his brother a small smile of genuine gratitude. The older man clapped him knowingly on the shoulder and paused to offer the flustered Penelope a small bow before leaving.
Once the door had shut behind him, Colin walked stiffly back towards the desk. "How is Elliot?" he began, his desire to ask after the welfare of his son far exceeding that of arguing with his wife.
"Very well," she reassured him, smiling slightly as a flame of love cut through her frustration. "Fed again and sleepy. Clara is changing him and putting him down for a nap." She cocked her head, picking up the ledger they had been using to tally the outstanding debts. Her eyes widened at the numbers. "I do not have quite enough," she admitted, a tinge of regret coloring her tone. "But the social season is to begin again soon. With the queen's blessing, I am certain the income from Lady Whistledown will continue."
"Pen," Colin protested softly, sitting in the desk chair and pulling her to him. She sighed even as she let herself fall into his lap. "Why won't you let me take care of you? I do not want you to have to worry about this."
"Why do you insist on taking on the burden alone?" she countered. Colin swallowed, looking away.
"Because it is my responsibility--as your husband--" he continued firmly, cutting across her as he saw her attempt to protest, "to take care of the estate's finances. I would be a dishonourable man to take from my wife's coffers, as brilliant and as resourceful as she may be." He punctuated this statement with a kiss to her knuckles.
"Colin…" she responded warningly. "The Featherington name is mine. The burden of upholding the estate does not rest solely upon your shoulders. I cannot in good conscience see the hard work of your forefathers poured into our problems when I have perfectly good coin at my disposal. For all the hurt my writing has caused, I want it to do something good."
"And it can," he indulged her, his eyes searching her face to convince her to let go of this persistence. "Just not this. I would not be worthy of you if I let you share in this burden that I am perfectly capable of managing alone."
There it was, thought Penelope, the root of the issue. She shook her head at him in exasperation. "Colin, must I say it to you again? It is not what you do for me that makes you worthy of me. It is the way you stand by me. You are letting your pride push me out." She watched as he swallowed, listening to her words. "I do not want to be your burden. I want to be useful. I want to be your partner."
Colin squeezed his eyes shut, hanging his head. He pressed her knuckles against his cheek. "I know, Pen," he sighed, "but it is hard not to feel superfluous when it seems as though you do not need me. You are my wife."
"I do need you," she reassured him. "Just because I do not want you to solve our problems for me does not mean I do not want you to solve them with me. I am not saying no to using any of your money. I do not know the first thing about investments, nor of the running of an estate. Besides, the new Lord Featherington was not made by me alone." The small smirk that graced Colin's face at this statement made her heart lift. "But I do have savings that I would like to be put to good use. And I share in the responsibility of the current plight of the estate. I could have--should have--helped years ago."
Colin studies her for several moments, his pride wrestling with his desire to acquiesce to his wife's every wish. Eventually, he falls forward to rest his forehead against hers. "Very well," he sighs. "How about this: we shall take half of my inheritance and half of your savings and invest them into the estate. The remainder of both and any subsequent earnings from our writings will go into accounts for Elliot's future siblings. I should like all our sons and our daughters to be well-equipped for whatever they wish to pursue in life."
Penelope's smile blossomed, bringing peace to Colin's heart. "That sounds most wonderful," she agreed warmly. Her hands came up to cup his face as she leaned in to give him a kiss. Before he could deepen it, though, she pulled back, lips quirking at his disappointed pout. "I truly do not know what I would do without you, Colin," she said seriously. "You should not ever feel superfluous. You are a brilliant writer, a dedicated father, and a loving husband. Soon, we shall add superb estate manager to the list. But I do not want to become an accessory in your life: I need the freedom to be able to contribute where I can."
"You could never be an accessory," Colin rebuked, firmly but softly. "I am sorry for pushing you out. I know your mother has had to take drastic measures to ensure the survival of the estate over the past couple of years, and I want to protect you from ever having to worry like she did. But I know you are capable--I cannot possibly convey the depth of my respect for your abilities. I promise to always share the duties with you. As a team."
"As a team," Penelope echoed, tears springing to her eyes. She sighed, marvelling at the kindness and understanding that her husband possessed in spades. "I do love you so very much, Mr. Bridgerton."
"Not as much as I love you." He leaned down to capture her lips once again, her contented sigh making his heart throb. Their kisses were languid and drawn out, their hands holding each other close. The moment was interrupted by a loud gurgle from Colin's stomach, which instigated giggles from Penelope.
"Hungry?" she asked with a knowing smirk.
"Famished," he agreed, his lips moving to nip at her earlobe. "If only I could eat you up…" Penelope gently smacked his shoulder.
"Later," she admonished. "Anthony will be back after lunch, and we will need to have eaten some real food before then." Determined, she stood to her feet and offered her hand to her husband.
"Why must you be right all the time?" Colin groaned at her in mock irritation as he let her pull him up. "It is most annoying." Penelope comically lifted her nose.
"It is my greatest asset," she said with put on airs.
"No," he disagreed. "Your greatest asset is how absolutely scrumptious you are…." Penelope gave a shriek as her husband lunged after her, narrowly missing her waist as she scampered towards the door. She flung the door open before he could scoop her up, smiling smugly at his pout at being forced to compose himself in the presence of the household staff. "You may have gotten away with it for now," he promised her gruffly as he led her to the dining room, "but later I shall be forced to see to it that you be reminded of every wonderful thing about you."
Penelope kept up with him, beaming. "I look forward to it."
