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Colin misses the clock on the mantle chiming out the lateness of the hour. He has been stupidly staring at his fiancée’s face as she speaks with Francesca, Gregory, and Hyacinth.
His fiancée.
Only hours ago Colin had left Bridgerton House a bottle-weary bachelor. Now he has returned as a happily engaged man. Even dragged his future Mrs. Bridgerton into the drawing room with him in order to announce their engagement to his family. Their family. Colin is exorbitantly pleased. How could he not be? Penelope is his dearest friend and the deepest part of his heart.
The feeling is all the more potent for being juxtaposed against all the fear and dread that had consumed him earlier tonight. Colin truly thought he was about to lose Penelope forever.
Then the carriage happened.
Colin cannot help the smirk that steals over his face as he recalls everything that happened on their ride home. How they had both been overcome with their feelings for one another. Nothing had felt as exquisite as Pen telling him she wanted to be more than friends. (Except for, perhaps, everything that came after.)
“Dearest?” Colin feels a hand land on his arm. His mother’s no doubt.
“Hmm?” Colin asks distractedly. Pen is flushing again, the red stealing across her face and spilling down her chest. Colin flushes himself as he spies a tiny red mark on her bust, peaking out from under the green fabric of her dress. Just a half hour ago his lips had been sucking that blemish into her soft skin and Penelope had been moaning delightfully in his ear…
“Dearest,” his mother’s voice comes out a little louder. The hand on his arm squeezes in emphasis. Colin drags his eyes away from the beautiful vision of his fiancée— his fiancée! — and looks towards his mother.
“Yes?”
His mum rolls her eyes at him. (Ah, so that is where Hyacinth got that petulant little gesture from! Who knew?) Despite her quick flash of childish behavior, Violet still manages to look every inch like the distinguished Dowager Viscount she is. Mother is still dressed in her evening wear, a shimmery lilac dress and long white gloves. Colin recalls they’d been discussing … well something… before he had gotten distracted.
“I got Humboldt to fetch you a cravat. I thought you might want to be fully dressed before we escort Miss Featherington home.” His mother presses a plain white scrap of cloth into Colin’s limp hand.
“Home?” Colin inquires, at a complete loss to his mother’s meaning. Penelope is home. He already escorted her up from the street and into Bridgerton House. Pen's cloak is already settled in the closet amongst their own.
“Colin,” his mother sighs. “Penelope cannot stay here this evening. You must know that would be improper. She has to go home. To Featherington House.”
Colin frowns. He was not planning on ravishing her again this evening. Colin does not want to overwhelm Pen with too much too fast. It is just… she is going to be his wife. Colin wants her close. Loathes the thought of sending her away from his side and returning her to the sharp jaws of her family. In fact, he is her family now. Colin should be able to lead his darling heart up to her usual guest bedroom and get her settled in where she is most comfortable. He had been relishing the idea of knocking on her door in the morning and escorting her down to the dining room in order to break their fast.
His mother sighs again and plucks the cravat back out of his hand. She loops it around his neck and begins tying it into a simple knot. Colin notices she is a little rusty with the motion, fumbling a bit with the fabric.
“Colin, if Lady Whistledown discovers Penelope spent the night here, on the eve of your engagement, her reputation will be shattered.”
“What does it matter?” Colin asks with what he knows is a petulant shrug of his shoulders. “We are already married.”
“Engaged. Engaged to be married, Colin. I must admit that you seem intent on being obtuse about this.” His mother finishes wrapping his cravat and tucks the ends into the top of his waistcoat. The end result looks a little lopsided.
“You would make a terrible valet, mother,” Colin says cheekily.
His mother scoffs.
“Go fetch your fiancée and let us go collect our cloaks. The hour is already growing late. Lady Featherington is probably worried sick.”
It is Colin’s turn to scoff. “Doubtful. It is unlikely the woman has even realized Pen is absent.” Colin rubs his fingers together as he considers his future mother-in-law for the first time this evening. That relationship is certainly going to be a challenge. He looks over at his luminous bride just in time to catch her stifling a yawn.
Colin strides away from his mother and infiltrates the circle his siblings have formed around Pen. It is a bit rude they have commandeered her like this. If Colin had known his mother was going to insist they return Pen across the street, he would have been more insistent that Pen remain by his side.
Violet insists on personally escorting them across the square. She will not allow Colin this one liberty with his intended. (Though he rather thinks this is due to his mother suspecting Colin of taking quite a number of other liberties already this evening...) However, at this moment, Colin is the picture of a perfect, proper gentleman. He refuses to let Humboldt put on Pen’s cloak and arranges it carefully over her shoulders himself. Holds his arm out gallantly for Pen to take. Then sneakily reaches up with his other hand to clasp over where her hand now rests on his forearm.
Penelope is still a bit shaky from her encounter with Eloise. They had run into his sister in the corridor outside the drawing room. He had not wanted Eloise to find out like that, ambushed by the sudden appearance of Colin and Penelope looking so happy and in love. Colin had hoped to gently break the news to Eloise when they were alone. Just the two of them. A kindness he wished to extend to his sister so that she could have the freedom of her unvarnished reaction without accidentally wounding his beloved (and her dearest lifelong friend) by mistake.
No such luck. Eloise had immediately gotten stroppy with Pen. Then stomped off before Colin could admonish her. And Pen, the person he never wanted to see hurt, was the one to chase after Eloise. Mother had gripped his arm tight to prevent Colin from following the pair. She insisted he let them work this one out for themselves, whatever the rift between them might be.
Colin had not liked that advice.
But at least now, during this walk, Colin can rub reassurances into Pen’s skin and whisper how much he does not wish to be parted from her this night. Maybe his love can make up for the lack of Eloise’s. It is not the same, he knows. But what else can Colin do? He does not want the glittering light and giddiness of their engagement ruined by his sister’s displeasure.
“All will be well, my love,” Colin keeps repeating.
It’s not a long walk, in truth. But Colin did take the long way, opting to go around the tiny garden in the middle of the square instead of taking the path directly through. So by the time they near Pen’s doorstep he seems to have gotten some of her soft smiles and giggles back. Colin wishes he could kiss them from her mouth. Alas, Violet hovers behind them like a hawk.
“Mother,” Colin says finally as they arrive at the bottom of the steps. “May I have a moment of privacy with my intended?” She directs a narrowed glare at Colin, presumably as a warning, before finally nodding. Violet takes a few steps away from the couple and pointedly half turns her body away from them, directing her gaze on the potted flowers the Featheringtons have next to the stoop.
Colin faces Pen fully and grasps both her hands tight within his own. He takes a long moment to stare into Penelope’s beautiful eyes. The blue shards have haunted his dreams for so many nights. Colin would give anything not to leave her side now. Not when he is finally awake.
“I shall call on you on the morrow,” Colin promises. “I will formally ask for your hand at that time and speak to your mother about her blessing.”
He refuses to concede that he is asking for Portia’s permission to marry Penelope. That woman does not truly wield the power to deny them their happiness. Colin will be marrying Penelope. He will do anything required to make that a reality. Even if that means he has to dust off his old plan to elope to Gretna Green. Though, thankfully, this time with the right bride.
Penelope nods in understanding. Such a simple agreement should not set Colin’s heart to pumping. Yet he can feel it careening out of control within his chest like a wild stallion at this minute confirmation that Pen still wishes him to press his suit. That she welcomes him calling on her in the morning. That they may take their courtship out of the shadows and into the light.
Lord, he does not want to say goodnight!
This parting is so bitter. Perhaps Colin should have slipped Penelope up to his bedroom instead, damn the consequences. He rakes his eyes over Pen’s form worshipfully, trying to imprint her lovely image into his memory.
“I shall be counting down the hours until we are reunited,” Colin admits softly. He is so happy to finally share this truth with Pen. There have been so many nights Colin has left her presence without revealing how much he aches when they are apart. Another secret he had to choke back, worried about how she might receive such an overture. But now he can tell her! Colin can tell his best friend anything and everything about how intensely he adores her.
His statement is not meant to be a flirtation. Colin is not trying to charm Pen. It is simply how he feels! Yet his confession makes Penelope squirm in front of him. As if she is a little embarrassed that he has been so forthright but also… so overjoyed at his confession that she cannot possibly hold still.
Colin is truly a lucky bastard.
If Pen enjoys him declaring himself so thoroughly, Colin has no qualms about doing it every day for the rest of his damn life. Starting with tomorrow. Colin will declare himself to her once more, in her drawing room. This time with flowers and chocolates and the proper courting gifts Penelope deserves. Then he will announce his intentions to her wicked mother. Colin is not above blackmail if the woman tries to interfere with their union. He knows of quite a few uncovered scandals that might peak Lady Whistledown’s interest. Finally, Colin will promenade Pen up and down the Serpentine all bloody afternoon until their feet blister. Yet he will gleefully tell every single member of the Ton that passes them by that he is newly betrothed to the wonderful woman on his arm. Colin will loudly demand that they agree that Penelope is the most ravishing beauty and that he is blessed to have made such an excellent match for himself. He will tell them she is the diamond (the emerald, the ruby, all the precious jewels) of his heart. Perhaps he will even whisper some more risqué observations into the shell of Pen’s ear… just to watch how she will shift and blush under his attention…
Bloody hell, why must he say farewell to Pen?
If he simply must be parted from his wife though, Colin refuses to go quietly into the night. He swoops down and steals a kiss from Pen’s pert little lips.
“COLIN BRIDGERTON!” his mother shouts in a scandalized tone. Violet hustles over and wedges herself in between the couple. Their mouths separate with an audible and rather wet smack as they are forcibly parted. All the while Violet mutters about Colin’s audacity and how she raised him better than this. For his part, Colin merely smiles happily, watching Pen’s face turn an alluring and luscious shade of red. Mother guides Penelope up the stairs and raps on the door knocker almost violently.
Despite her irritation, Violet still plays her part. She provides the answering footman some excuse about Pen’s whereabouts this evening. The man nods dutifully and steps aside to allow Pen entry into her own home. His fiancée steps over the threshold before turning around to offer them both a good night. Mother accepts this gesture gracefully and demurely. Colin does not. He walks up the steps, eyes dark and trained on Pen. Colin takes her hand and bends over to place a lingering kiss on her knuckles.
“Goodnight Pen,” he murmurs. Colin flips her hand over and presses another heated kiss into the gentle curve of her palm. Flicks his tongue out between his lips to give her a tiny little kitten lick. Pen gasps slightly, nearly giving them away. She tastes like sweat in all honesty. But with just the tiniest trace of milk and honey. Soap perhaps. Or even perfume? Colin wishes he could lick all the way up Pen’s arm and bury himself back into the pillowy softness of her neck and breasts.
His mother coughs delicately. Ah. Not the time to be reminiscing about the carriage. It is also clear that Colin has pushed this goodbye as far as he is able. He straightens up with the intent of letting go of Pen’s hand and departing. Colin even has an apologetic grin in place, so Pen knows he is a bit shamefaced about making his goodbye a tad lecherous.
But when he finally looks back at his beloved, Colin finds Pen is smiling at him. That intoxicating mix of earnest and happy that she only shares with the Bridgertons and the sexy, saucy smirk that she only bestows to him alone. Colin loses track of everything except her teeth and her dimples. Those lips… so beautiful… Colin grips Pen’s hand tighter looking for answers. He knows he is supposed to leave. But Colin cannot seem to make his feet move. At least…not away. It seems his feet have no problem taking another step closer to Pen’s doorway.
Maybe he can get away with just standing here all night holding hands with his darling girl. Surely it would not be scandalous if they are chaperoned. He will just stand outside with his mother and Pen will stand inside with the footman and it will all be very proper.
Although… Colin rubs his thumb over her empty ring finger. That needs to be remedied posthaste. He cannot select an engagement ring worthy of Pen’s beauty if he remains here on her stoop all night. Hmm… maybe he can bribe Rae to go fetch the jeweler in the morning. That would be all neat and orderly. Colin can afford a house call and by that point in time it will be calling hours. So Colin will be allowed inside and can tuck Pen beside him on a settee in the Featherington drawing room to pick one out together.
Yes, he will stay right here all night if Pen will allow it—
Violet finally gives a huff and tugs on Colin’s elbow rather harshly. Pulls him away from Penelope until he has no choice but to either drag his wife out of her family home like a barbarian or drop her hand. In all honesty, Colin would rather chop off his hand than let go of Pen. But his mother is being rather pushy all the sudden. He is worried that he might accidentally pull on Pen too forcefully and somehow cause her to trip.
So he reluctantly allows her fingers to slide through his own.
“Goodnight darling,” he repeats mournfully as his mother proceeds to haul him down the Featherington’s front stairs. Colin himself stumbles down the last few steps, so reluctant is he to take his eyes off his wife.
“Colin Bridgerton, face forward!" his mother demands.
For a moment he is torn. If he simply digs in his heels and refuses to move, he can keep staring at Penelope as long as he likes. It is not as if Violet can truly move him. He has several inches and even more stones on his dear mother. But on the other hand, Colin was raised to respect his mother and to listen to her sound judgement.
So he gives Penelope one last longing look before he fully succumbs to Violet’s insistent pushing and prodding. He points his head and his gaze out towards Bridgerton House (but away from his true home). Colin allows his mother to march him back across the square. In all honesty, he feels a bit like an unruly toddler being escorted to his bedroom for a timeout.
Colin has not done anything wrong though. He is simply in love! If that makes him reckless and a fool then so be it. Colin will happily be a fool for Penelope. Always.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice the state of Penelope’s neck and chest, Colin Bridgerton,” Violet whispers harshly once they are out of earshot of the Featheringtons.
Okay maybe Colin did one thing wrong. Or well, not wrong per say. What happened in the carriage was very right by Colin’s estimation. It was just done… a bit out of order. Colin should have made an offer of marriage well before he slid his hand up Pen’s skirt.
But they got to the same place in the end— happy, engaged, and deliciously rumpled.
Colin laughs brightly at the thought. Violet retaliates with a swift swat to his arm. But after a moment of pleasant silence, his mother pipes up once more: “You finally got the courage to ask?”
“I did,” Colin answers plainly.
Her claw-like hold on him eases a bit. Shifts into a motherly cradle around his bicep and this time, when her other hand touches him, it is not a swat but a tender pat of affection.
“I’m proud of you dearest. Your father would be too,” his mother says. “You were brave enough to take that leap into the unknown, unsure if Penelope would catch you. That truly takes a lot of bravery.”
Colin shakes his head.
“Pen would have always caught me, mum. Even if she did not feel the same, Penelope would not have let me fall on my face.” Colin knows this without a doubt. She would have let him down gently and with honor. Pen is everything good and righteous in this world. He knows that to be true down to his very core.
“No, she would not have. Which is why I think you have chosen a remarkable partner for yourself Colin. You compliment each other beautifully.”
His mother squeezes his arm even tighter as they approach Bridgerton House. Her praise causes Colin to puff out his chest with pride. He truly has done very well for himself. Colin had been looking for a purpose all this time and he has finally found it. He was meant to be Pen’s husband. They were meant to be tied together under one name and build a family together under that banner. They were destined to share every joy and every sorrow together. For all the rest of their lives.
Colin cannot wait to marry Pen.
When they reach their doorstep, their footman opens the door and greets them pleasantly. Violet steps inside quickly. She is already plucking at the fingertips of one white glove to assist in its easy removal. Colin does not look forward, however. He looks back. His heart is located on the other side of the square, after all.
Colin is surprised to find that Pen is still standing in the open doorway of Featherington House. She has not moved, her hands still clasped tightly in front of her. Even though he cannot see her eyes from this distance, Colin can feel the weight of them. Pen is a sentinel watching over him. His stomach squirms pleasantly at the attention. At the thought he could run over there right now and sweep her into his arms and pepper kisses all over her gorgeous face. And Pen would welcome such an advance.
Alas. His mother probably has the right of it. Colin should perhaps exercise a modicum of decorum. So instead of charging half cocked back to Pen, he offers his fiancée – his fiancée! – one last wave goodbye. He may not be able to see Pen’s eyes, but he can make out the smile that blooms across her face. Penelope waves back to him, childlike and giddy. His lovely wife to be! Colin waves back again, stupidly happy. Maybe they can just stand here all night waving at each other from across the square—
“Oh for heaven’s sake!”
Colin feels a tug on his elbow once more. Before he can dig in his heels, he is pulled backwards into the foyer. Colin does not let that stop him though. He keeps waving, moving to be able to see her through the gap, until the door slams shut.
“Honestly, am I going to have to have one of the staff stand outside your door tonight Colin Bridgerton?” Colin can hear the vexation in his mother’s tone. The swift tap tap of her slipper on the tile. He can practically feel the force of her eyeroll.
But he simply cannot stop staring dreamily at their front door.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “And under my window while we are at it.”
His mother sighs loudly.
“Just like your father,” she mutters under her breath.
Which, when you think about it, is all the convincing Colin needs to scuttle his own attempts at chivalry. At the stroke of one, Colin climbs down from his window using spare bed linens he has tied together and presses a hefty bribe into Humboldt’s hand.
Then he strides across the square to go find his wife.