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To be entirely fair, the change from Colin and Penelope to Colin and Penelope was minimal. They were close before, did things together like movie nights and he treated her and Eloise’s fridge like a café. Now they just sort of… kissed as well. And so, when they decided that they’d be keeping their new relationship on the down-low, it had sounded entirely possible to do with very few concessions needing to be made.
That was before Eloise had decided to introduce Phillip to the family.
For the entire week leading up to the monthly Bridgerton family dinners, she had been rather evasive about the identity of the guest she was bringing and Penelope wasn’t giving anything away either (“If it was my secret to tell, I’d tell you. But I have to live with your sister, I’m not betraying her trust lightly!”).
With nothing to go on, Colin and his brothers had no time to prepare when Eloise and her boyfriend entered the drawing room, his hand tightly clasped around hers.
As though pulled by strings attached to their heads, all four brothers stood up with matching faces of horror, ignoring protests from their wives (Anthony and Benedict) and married sister (all four; Daphne knew her poor husband suffered through similar interrogations and didn’t exactly want to scare off someone who’d finally managed to get their sister to open her heart to the possibility of love).
“Pen, you don’t understand, it was as though my mother didn’t have three married children and eight grandchildren.”
Penelope snickered, having received almost minute by minute texts from her best friend, phone clearly hidden under the table because God forbid any of them were on their phones during dinner.
“So now Eloise is all coupled up-”
“Colin, this isn’t Love Island-”
“-with Phillip,” he pulled a face, “it’s open season. She tried to set me up with no fewer than three of her friends’ daughters and has told me that she expects me to be present at her and Daff’s next gala.”
Penelope hummed, musing it for a moment. “Would it be that awful?” Her boyfriend looked aghast on her phone screen, the pair snatching some time on FaceTime before Eloise returned from the other side of London.
“Would it be that awful? Would it be that awful? Goodness me, Miss Featherington, have you forgotten the one before my travels in Asia? You were in blue, if it helps you recall?”
Ah, yes. That damned blue dress.
It was the first gala that Kate had been involved in and so Penelope had allowed her to talk her into a beautiful long gown, and paired it with some truly stunning heels.
Except, Colin had managed to make her stumble in a dance - probably looked at her or something, she sighed - and she tripped, heel catching on the exquisite fabric. As Colin had tried to catch her from falling, he himself had managed to stumble into a champagne tower, utterly drenching the pair.
Penelope had had to shuffle off to the bathrooms with a new thigh-high split and a significantly darker dress than she’d started with.
With a grimace, she accepted that a gala wouldn’t be the best place for either of them individually, but also together. “Well, it’s only a disaster when I’m there. If we’re keeping this under wraps, maybe you should go alone, let Violet try to set you up.” It was a truly horrific idea if ever she’d had one.
Colin clutched at his chest as though stabbed with a gasp. “You wound me. If I suffer, you suffer - I will find an excuse for you to be there and I hope you save your last dance for me.”
She could hardly say no to that face. With a nod and smile, she agreed. “I’d save every dance for you if you asked, you idiot.”
They continued talking about their days, moving on from the gala and the dinner to the rest of their days - Penelope had a small rant about Eloise never doing the washing up, Colin had finally made someone a job offer to help with the company expansion, they both agreed that following dog sitting Newton that cats were better than dogs. The chatter continued, talking about everything and nothing like they’d done every night now for months until a key turning in the lock indicated that Eloise had returned.
There was no way that she was anything but sober as she’d dropped Phillip home to relieve his poor babysitter, which gave Pen approximately thirty seconds before she came in to debrief the introduction of her boyfriend to the family with an entirely alert Eloise.
Pen groaned quietly, “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go. Are we still good for the cinema tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I’ll meet you out front. Sleep well, Pen,” Colin grinned, blowing a kiss to the camera which she returned.
As she hit the red button, the door to her bedroom swung open. Eloise had never quite learned that it was polite to knock, but at least she’d also never learned how to be light enough on her feet not to know that she was incoming.
With the same lack of delicacy as her brother, Eloise launched herself onto her roommate’s bed, snuggling up to Penelope like they’d done so many times before. “Well, it could’ve gone better.”
“Oh dear. Could be worse, you could be Colin.” At that, Eloise’s face lit up, her face reverting to that of a child twenty years their junior when seeing their sibling struggle.
“Penelope, mum was like a dog with a bone. And when I mentioned Amanda and Oliver? Well. It was as if she didn’t have eight grandchildren across the country. Wouldn’t be surprised if Anthony, Ben or Daff name their next girl after her to try to win her favour back,”
Penelope stifled a laugh, having heard a rather similar sentiment just a few minutes before. “So what made it so bad?
“My brothers.” Ah. This she had not heard. And instantly, she could tell that whatever information her best friend now enlightened her with, no Bridgerton man was going to come off well.
“I can’t believe you threatened him!” Penelope hissed, her boyfriend looking slightly guilty as he kept his eyes on the trailers for future film releases on the widescreen in front of them.
“It wasn’t only me,” he mumbled back, however the glare he received over the popcorn (sweet and salty mixed together, because his girlfriend has awful taste) suggested that it may not have been the point. “I left them to it when the food came out anyway.”
Penelope rolled her eyes; of course he did.
Colin leant over and kissed her temple, taking advantage of the proximity to her ear so he could whisper “Besides, I was mostly missing my girlfriend.” She should have been there, if Eloise could bring a stranger into their family home, he should have brought Pen who was practically family already.
He swallowed; that thought was rather a big deal for such a new relationship.
But it was true, wasn’t it? She’d been at every big event for the last goodness knows how many years. She’d spent Christmases there after her father had died. She came away on their summer retreats to Kent and stayed in the family wing rather than the guest wing.
So why had they agreed to keep it quiet?
The film trailers came to an end, the lights dimmed even further, and Colin was forced to face front, pondering why exactly they’d put themselves in the position they had.
The latest charity gala was being held to raise money for children from abusive homes, a cause which was particularly close to the hearts of the Bridgertons. This near enough guaranteed that all eight siblings would be there, with an invitation being offered to Penelope, too, as standard. Whilst she wanted, rather desperately, to decline, she had promised her boyfriend a dance, and at least it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for them to do so.
Sensing just how much Penelope was dragging her feet, Eloise had been trying her best to sell the night to her friend. “I know these things are awful, but the food will be good and I’ll be there. Plus, we can watch mum try to make Colin and Greg dance with her friends’ daughters, that’ll be a riot!”
It would be something, alright.
And so, rather reluctantly, Penelope had agreed to attend. She had, however, drawn the line at Kate offering to go shopping with her, which is how she ended up in some boutique that Violet had suggested, her best friend almost horizontal on a couch as she performed some sort of fashion show better suited to a romcom montage.
If only they’d decided to tell others. Even just Eloise so they didn’t have to hide their new relationship in their own homes. But that would complicate matters, and whilst yes they had known each other for the majority of their lives, it wasn’t quite the same.
On the one hand, keeping quiet meant that she and her boyfriend would be able to interact at the gala without the watchful eyes of at least two tables on them at all times. On the other, it meant that Violet probably had a list of introductions she’d be wanting to make for them both.
She was in the process of removing a dress that was a firm ‘no’ (blue, long, too close to the champagne incident for her liking) when Eloise called out from where she sat (lay?).
“Oh, that reminds me, Brian was asking me for your number.” Penelope froze. She didn’t want to know what had reminded Eloise of that, but she also had no idea who this Brian was either. “Said you got on at the housewarming a couple weeks back, wondered if he could persuade you out for a drink.”
Penelope’s face screwed up. Even if she wasn’t in a relationship - and a very happy one at that - she had absolutely no intention of going on a date with someone who had asked her out via Eloise.
“I hope you told him ‘absolutely not’?” She called back from behind the curtain, pulling a red dress on. The silence that responded seemed to echo. “Eloise Bridgerton, I hope you told him no?”
“Not exactly? I said it might be weird and that maybe if he got one of the tickets for Saturday in our work ballot he could pretend that it was a coincidence?”
Well, it was better than a ‘oh actually I gave him your number, you’re going out tonight’, at least.
Penelope groaned. How on Earth was she supposed to enjoy this blasted gala if she would be spending half her time hiding from one man and the other half wishing she was stood by another?
Friday night was movie night, and would always be movie night. With the occasional missed one. Much to Eloise’s chagrin, Colin had begun to invite himself along, which his sister allowed as he would either bring or buy food. He had his uses, after all.
They’d decided on a musical that she and Penelope had practically grown up on, and maybe she had conveniently forgotten that it wasn’t Colin’s cup of tea, she had too many siblings to keep track of anyway.
25 minutes in, sat on either end of the sofa, Eloise and Penelope were singing - if you could call it that - along to arguably the most iconic song of the film. Colin, meanwhile, sat amused at the pair, a smile yet to leave his lips throughout the film.
Maybe Eloise had made a mistake; she was sure it was Colin who had snapped the DVD to this film all those years ago in frustration of her repeated viewings, but she supposed she could have been wrong.
By the time the first film was over, the food was out, and so Penelope had offered to pop out to the corner shop to top up on snacks. Clearly unable to select the right food from the shelves, Colin had also said he’d go - which Eloise was only too happy about, it meant she could have a few minutes alone of an evening. The night was warm, and would probably be just as warm the following evening - why August had been decided as the perfect time for a gala she’d never understand, as it always seemed to be even warmer on the ballroom floor and with hundreds of people around.
The pair had returned almost half an hour later, cheeks pink from the heat, she assumed, despite the sun having lowered below the horizon a short time earlier.
There was no doubt that Violet and Daphne had the processing of planning and running a gala down like a well-oiled machine by now, with Kate only too happy to assist where required.
They had clearly taken a leaf out of one of Kate’s earlier galas, Penelope mused, eying the champagne tower warily. It was far enough from the dance floor that it wouldn’t be too much of a concern, but she was still determined to avoid it at all costs, desperate not to ruin the beautiful red silk of her new dress.
She’d luckily been seated away from her parents, who had a table at the gala as Bridgerton business associates, she herself being considered a family guest. At least that meant she could socialise with those who treated her like family rather than suffer sitting alone on a full table of 10.
The tables were another issue although - with fifteen people from the Bridgerton family now (well, fourteen and Penelope, no need to get ahead of herself), they had split up into those who were involved in the Foundation directly and those who weren’t.
This meant that Violet, Daphne and Anthony were far away enough not to be parenting the rest of them. Colin had quite assured her that this was what the remaining siblings referred to it as - despite Daphne being fourth eldest, she was a natural mother and had started acting like one very young, having eyes in the back of her head and not afraid to report back to their mother. Anthony had, of course, been thrust into the position at 18, and now he had kids of his own, he’d managed to perfect the look of wordless disappointment in their actions.
And so, Benedict had been put ‘in charge’ of their table, although this translated quite quickly to him resigning from all parental duties like he’d been expecting to do for the night. The last Penelope had seen of him following dessert, he and Sophie had exchanged his credit card for alcohol purchases with the Bridgerton ‘kids’ for peace and quiet, dancing slowly on the dancefloor to some orchestral version of a song she vaguely recognised.
The food had been delicious, of course, including the olives and bread out for the table, and the drinking game that their table (or rather, Hyacinth) had established had made the speeches go much quicker than usual, although Penelope had made the decision to stick to a soda water the minute the rules had been drawn up, rather than the wine that she’d been sipping on. She wasn’t the only one either, Colin had pushed his tall glass of wine away and replaced it with a beer, as had Benedict.
Gregory and Hyacinth had ordered a double rum and coke, however, and then added an additional something from a hip flask in her clutch.
After a couple of hours, everyone was suitably merry, with the entertainment well and truly underway. The string quartet was accompanying the dancing, a mix of slower, classic songs juxtaposed by more upbeat, modern songs to ensure no one was left out. The perfect time, Violet had decided, to start introducing Colin to almost every single woman in attendance.
She’d never had admitted it, but this year Violet really did hope her son would find someone to settle down with. She wanted him closer, especially with her grandchildren now coming up to ages where they knew the rest of their aunts and uncles far better than they knew Uncle Colin, and perhaps settling down would bring him back to England permanently.
Miss Henshaw was a nice enough girl, anyway, there was every chance that Violet would be planning a wedding with her mother in a few years’ time. And if not, then Miss Vines might be better suited, or Miss Mawson.
She left her son speaking to Miss Henshaw, moving a couple of tables away to speak to another business associate, though not entirely keeping her eyes away from the pair.
Colin looked around the room, desperate to get away and trying to pick out Pen from the hundreds of people there. Her red dress, which could only look nicer if on his bedroom floor, definitely helped to pinpoint her, on the other side of the room, talking with Eloise, her boyfriend and another man he recognised from the dreadful housewarming. The light from the chandeliers dappled through the glasses of champagne in the pyramid formation, sending effervescent beams onto his girlfriend’s face, but Colin couldn’t help but look to the stranger standing with them.
His face scrunched up as he tried to place just how he remembered the face, until he felt his stomach drop a good twelve inches.
His mother wouldn’t like it, but he made a quick apology to the poor girl he’d been forced to make small talk with, before turning on his heel and storming across the floor, his stony face enough to make people move out of the way. His feet couldn’t move him quick enough, and if he wasn’t so determined, it was almost a guarantee that he’d have tripped by the time he reached Pen.
“Get the fuck away from my girlfriend,” he hissed, stepping just in front of Penelope. It wasn’t necessarily because she was in any express danger, but like hell was he letting that man any closer to Pen than he could help. “Taking advantage of her when she was drunk, and now trying to speak to her like nothing happened?”
It was as if Eloise and Penelope had been punched in their stomachs with the gasps they made at the same time, matching faces of horror turning to face Colin.
Penelope was in shock. There was no other way to describe the numb, hot feeling she had as she took Colin’s hand, squeezing gently. She didn’t know if the intention was to reassure him or herself, but as she sandwiched his larger hand between her two smaller hands, it was definitely helping her.
If she let go, she was sure that there’d be a fight and given their current proximity to a lot of glass, that was not her preference.
She had not, however, accounted for Eloise, who didn’t even know about the kiss all those weeks back.
“You absolute bastard scum,” Eloise spat, face of disgust unable to be masked. She took her own hand from Phillip’s - who clearly was on the same wavelength as Penelope when it came to tethering down Bridgertons - balling it up before anyone could react, and planting it solidly, pushing Brian’s nose from the centre of his face in what seemed like slow motion.
The blood and reactions came at the same time, Penelope rushing forward from where she’d half hidden herself behind Colin to try to hold her best friend back by the arm, Phillip grabbing hold of her other arm, too.
Someone - Daphne, perhaps? - shrieked in the background, and as if by magic the remaining Bridgerton siblings had appeared, never too far away from any drama by choice.
This was turning out to be a worse evening than even Penelope could have imagined.
All attention was firmly on the group by the ostentatious glass tower as Benedict stepped forward, calmly gripping the man’s shoulder and frog-marching him out with an “I think you better leave, mate” as they went.
Penelope pulled Eloise into a hug - ostensibly, although one could argue it was akin to a straitjacket. “You had no idea, I had no idea. It’s okay, we’re all fine,” she soothed, resting her forehead on her best friend’s shoulder. After a minute or so, Penelope finally deemed it safe to let her go to return to the table, tugged along by her boyfriend and Sophie to help talk her down from her anger high, hoping that she wouldn’t elude them like she was always so good at doing when not sober.
As she watched with an eagle-like eye until the three were sat at a table again, Colin slipped his hand into hers, squeezing in reassurance.
Ah. She’d gone to comfort her friend rather than the boyfriend who was set to defend her honour. A couple of hundred years back, he’d have been up at dawn to shoot at the man, and here she was trying to ensure Eloise was okay.
“Thank you,” she sighed, turning around to face him, heels never helping very much to bring them anywhere near eye level.
“Thank me?” Colin scoffed, brow furrowed. “Thank you. Eloise would’ve happily murdered him and I’m not sure I’d want to bail her out.”
Penelope tried to smile, entirely aware that he was trying to brush it off. “Come on, let’s go out to the terrace.”
“Should I go find a sister to act as chaperone?”
She gave him credit for trying to stay upbeat at least. With an eye roll and another squeeze of their hands, Penelope led the pair of them out through the open door to the patioed area overlooking perfectly manicured gardens.
Penelope looked up at him, tears threatening to spill as the shock began to wear off. “I am so sorry,” she breathed, unable to put any sort of power behind her words.
“You have nothing to be sorry about. You thought it was me, right? And Eloise wasn’t the one to walk in, so she wouldn’t know either. I’m sorry I caused a scene, though, you deserve better than that, Pen,” Colin was rubbing his thumb in circles at the small of her back, his other arm holding her tight to his chest, not wanting any distance between them right now.
She huffed a breath out in sheer disbelief. “You realise it was Eloise who threw the punch, right?” God, getting the blood out of her roommate’s dress was going to be something else, who would wear white to a dinner? “I’m just glad that stepped in when you did. Even if it means that we’re not keeping this a secret any more.”
“Keeping it a secret was the stupidest thing we ever did in the first place. More stupid than me taking years to realise just how in love I am with you.”
Penelope finally let an actual giggle escape her lips at that. “Do you think they’ll let us be if we go back in? Or is it going to be hours of us having to explain ourselves?”
“I think my mother is planning our wedding with your mother as we speak. I doubt anyone else is going to give us any stick, other than Eloise.”
They’d hoped to tell her first, it was always the plan. Eloise first, because she would be hurt given that she lived with Penelope and unknowingly third-wheeled a larger portion of the time they spent together than they’d have liked.
And then, everyone else, as quickly as possible afterwards, because there was no way she was keeping it a secret.
At that, Penelope groaned, snuggling herself closer into Colin’s chest. “I suppose we better get this over with, then.”
He bent his head down to press a kiss to the crown of her head. “There’s no one I’d rather suffer the wrath of Eloise Bridgerton for, darling.” Colin lifted his arms, moving to hold his girlfriend’s hand tight like they were sleeping otters, a kiss pressed to the back of her hand to reassure her that no matter what, he was always going to be fighting her corner.