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In spite of the fact that she was merely a baby, when Colin Bridgerton first met Penelope Featherington, his world shook, his heart leaped, and his breath was taken away. Falling off a rocking horse tended to do that to a boy.
The little girl’s blanket had gotten caught in the horse, causing it to topple over as Mrs. Danbury passed by to put the newest little occupant of the daycare in a nearby bassinette. At the sound of Colin hitting the floor, the tears erupted instantaneously. Not from Colin. He was a five-year-old little boy with two elder brothers, used to scrapes and bruises from all sorts of mischief.
No, it was the little red-headed baby whose wails filled the room.
Mrs. Danbury rushed to set the baby in the cradle, in an effort to see to Colin quicker; but by the time she had set her down, Colin was by her side grinning, as he stood on his tiptoes to peer into the bassinette.
The babe settled instantly the second his green eyes met hers, gazing up at the boy with wonder. He chuckled down at her.
“Well, that wasn’t very well done of me, was it?” he asked, looking between the baby and Mrs. Danbury. Mrs. Danbury smiled fondly, tussling his chestnut hair, reassured that he wasn’t hurt. Colin reached into the bassinette and let the baby wrap her tiny hand around his finger.
“She’s a lot gentler than Eloise,” he remarked to Mrs. Danbury.
“Yes, your sister has quite the grip,” she agreed.
“And she’s so small.”
“Well, she’s very young. She’s got plenty of time to grow. In no time she’ll be as tall as you are now. Both her sisters are quite tall. By the time you grow up, she may even be taller than you.”
“But I’ll grow too,” he reasoned.
“Yes. With your appetite, I reckon you’re growing by the minute.”
“I hope she stays little,” he mused quietly. “I feel like a giant next to her.”
Mrs. Danbury smirked, shaking her head.
“What’s her name?” he asked.
“Penelope,” Mrs. Danbury replied.
“That’s an awful long name,” he remarked. “Pretty but a bit of a mouthful.”
“I suppose it is.”
“Do you think she’d mind if I just call her Pen?”
“I’m sure she’d be just fine with that. May even grow to like it.”
–
Pen did seem to grow to like the nickname. Almost as much as she grew to like Colin. When he arrived at daycare each afternoon, after spending his morning in kindergarten, she was always beaming and reaching for him eagerly. Colin always looked forward to daycare with the little red head and as time passed, Mrs. Danbury watched on fondly, as Colin continually fawned over the baby. She had to admit that he seemed to have a knack for soothing her and interpreting her needs. A skill that might have been much more useful if he had been able to apply it to his own baby sister, who proved much more high-strung and irritable.
Penelope was much quieter than his sister, harder to pull a big reaction out of, but Colin could read in her eyes just how she was feeling. Usually, when she was dropped off in the morning, her eyes were bright and happy to see him. In the afternoons, before her mama picked her up, her eyes grew sad. Sometimes, the normally quiet girl would cry as her mother wheeled her away. It broke Colin’s heart every time he heard it. But today, she understood what he was up to. He was sure of it. There was no sadness in her eyes, only mischief.
“It’s Eloise’s birthday today!” Colin piped up when they first arrived at daycare that morning.
“Well that’s exciting,” Mrs. Danbury’s eyes glittered, “With an appetite like yours, I imagine you’re looking forward to some birthday cake after your parents pick you up.”
“They aren’t picking us up,” Daphne – who was only a year younger than Colin – explained, eager to display her knowledge to Mrs. Danbury, “Mummy is having a new baby. Daddy has to take her to the hospital, so Anthony and Benedict are supposed to pick us up after they finish school and walk us home.”
“You Bridgertons multiply like rabbits,” Mrs. Danbury rolled her eyes fondly, rather grateful for the job security Violet and Edmund Bridgerton were providing her for years to come.
At the end of the day, Colin waited until Mrs. Danbury was distracted by helping fasten Phillipa and Daphne’s coats to make his move. Although he loved Daphne and considered her his best friend, he couldn’t trust her to help with this scheme. His eldest sister was a devout goody-two shoes, too concerned with following the rules to be trusted with a plan like this. He hoped Eloise would prove to have a bit more rebellious spirit when she grew up. As it was, she seemed enthusiastic to be involved in this current scheme, babbling and throwing her blue blanket at him. Colin took it and replaced it with the yellow blanket, tossing it haphazardly over his sister and making sure to leave the corner sticking out as he lowered the hood of the pram. The blue blanket, he tucked gently around the angelic baby in the other pram, cooing softly at the little redhead until she giggled.
Daphne beamed at Mrs. Danbury, “Our new sister will be the same age as your grandson, right Mrs. Danbury?”
“That’s right,” Mrs. Danbury nodded. Her grandson, Gareth, had been born merely two months earlier but had only made a brief visit to the daycare the previous week. While Colin had initially been excited about having another boy at the daycare, he determined quickly that Gareth wasn’t nearly as compelling to him as little Pen. Mrs. Danbury reassured him that Gareth was still young and once he grew a bit, Colin may bond with him; but Colin wasn’t convinced. After all, Pen was still little and he found her fascinating.
“Do you think they’ll fall in love?” Daphne asked dreamily, always the little romantic.
“While I would love to tie our families together for the sheer amount of havoc that would bring to the world, I rather doubt that little boy would be so quick to settle down,” Mrs. Danbury laughed, “In spite of what his father may have to say about him, that little stud has a glimmer in his eye that makes me think he’ll be quite the heartbreaker. No, it would take a special someone to rein him in and a very special twist of fate to bring lovers together so young and have it work out.”
“But it could happen?” Colin blurted out, almost blowing his cover as Eloise kicked at her yellow blanket. “Right, Mrs. Danbury? It could work out.”
Mrs. Danbury eyed him curiously as he glanced nervously between the prams then offered him a reassuring smile.
“I suppose,” she conceded. “The world works in mysterious ways.”
Colin grinned up at her, relaxing as she turned back to finish helping Prudence lace up her boots.
When Mrs. Featherington arrived to pick up her daughters, Colin listened on, as she spoke with Mrs. Danbury. Penelope’s mother lamented dramatically that she couldn’t wait until Penelope would begin speaking, as she had such trouble interpreting what her daughter wanted without being told directly.
“Yes,” Mrs. Danbury replied politely, although there was a sly glint in her eye. “Well, your other daughters have certainly learned not to mince words. Prudence and Philippa are very direct and vocal about what they want.”
Mrs. Featherington left in a rush to Colin’s delight. The woman always seemed to be in a rush and it played to his favour. He waved goodbye to the oblivious family as they bickered on their way out the door, taking his little sister with them.
The rest of the afternoon went just to plan. All it took was a little bonnet secured over Penelope’s red curls and his older brothers proved none the wiser. Colin hovered at the edge of the pram as his eldest brother Anthony pushed it the whole way home. Anthony rambled nonsense about which girls at school were fit to Benedict the whole way, which bored Colin terribly but allowed his ploy to go unnoticed. Benedict carried Daphne on his back the whole way home, which usually would have started an argument between Colin and Daphne and led to them swapping at some point or Anthony bearing the burden of pushing the pram with another sibling clinging to his back. But on this occasion, Colin was more than happy to keep his feet on the ground next to the pram. Benedict raised a brow and questioned, jokingly, if his little brother was suddenly feeling grown up now that he was about to have more younger siblings than older, but it was quickly forgotten when Anthony began to harp on the hardship of being the eldest child. Colin, for his part, took advantage of every distraction and pause on the walk home to reach into the pram in an effort to reassure his little Pen that he was still there. Each time, Penelope’s little hand would grasp onto his own eagerly.
The next few hours were some of the most invigorating of Colin’s life to that point. After Anthony pulled her from the pram, it only took a little reassurance and deception to convince his eldest brother to let him care for the baby until their parents got home. He promised Anthony that he would let him know if the baby became fussy or he needed help at all and that seemed to be enough to convince him. Anthony had a math test to study for and Daphne had convinced Benedict to teach her how to paint – a notion that was causing Anthony far more stress than the idea of Colin sitting and playing quietly with the baby.
“I just don’t see why we have to dabble with such a messy activity while Mum and Dad are out and bound to come home stressed.”
“It’s fine, Ant. She’ll lose interest in it in no time anyways,” Benedict reassured him and he was right.
By the time Edmund and Violet Bridgerton had arrived home, Daphne was long done with painting and had moved on to pestering Colin to let her play with him and the baby.
“Daddy! Colin won’t let me play dress up with Eloise!”
“That’s not true!” Colin protested, hugging the baby tightly. “I said she can’t play dress up with the baby. She’s welcome to do whatever she wants with Eloise.”
“Well, in that case Colin is right. If Eloise isn’t too cranky, you can play with her, Daphne; but the new baby is not even a day old. I don’t think little Francesca is up to play dress up with you quite yet.”
“But he won’t let me near Eloise!” Daphne stomped her foot.
Edmund sighed. It had been a long day. Maybe six children was his breaking point. On the other hand, he had never heard baby Eloise so quiet. She seemed content in Colin’s arms, reaching up and tugging at his hair, as he smiled back at her with his gap-toothed grin. And in spite of Daphne’s denied dress up time, Colin seemed to have played his own dress up with his baby sister. She sported a pale, yellow dress Edmund couldn’t recall seeing before and a knit bonnet that she miraculously had yet to yank off. In Edmund’s experience no hat ever stayed atop Eloise’s head for long before being hurled to the floor.
“It’s probably best I take Eloise as it is,” Edmund reasoned, eager to diffuse the brewing uncharacteristic fight between the two he considered to be his most compatible and amiable children. It had been a long day for them as well, he reminded himself. They were probably just eager for any attention from their parents. “It’s about time for some birthday cake. Don’t you think, Colin?”
Colin looked torn between the baby and the mention of cake. But ultimately, when Edmund approached, he frowned stubbornly and clutched the baby protectively.
“Colin…” his voice came out suspicious although he hadn’t exactly worked out what was off yet.
“What?” Colin looked up at him innocently with his big green eyes and a sheepish smile. It was a look that never failed to win over hearts and get him out of trouble. A look that was nearly unanimously irresistible. It would have won over Violet in a heartbeat. But it was an inherited look. One Colin had gotten from Edmund himself and therefore, left him as the one person immune from its charm.
“Why don’t you pass over the baby, Colin?” Edmund suggested. “She probably needs a change before she blows out the candles.”
Colin looked like he wanted to cling to her, but reluctantly released the baby into his father’s care without a fight, not wanting her to get hurt. Edmund twisted the little girl around to inspect her and paled at the sight before him.
The baby looked up at him with curious but confused blue eyes, much like the baby his wife had brought into the world mere hours ago. And very much not like his one-year-old daughter Eloise. She frowned for a moment until those little blue eyes found Colin again and then she giggled, looking back and forth between the father and son, as if she were processing the similarities. Edmund gently pulled off the bonnet and groaned when the vibrant red curls confirmed his fears.
“Colin…this is not your sister Eloise.”
“No,” he said as though that should be obvious. “This is my Pen.”
“Your what?”
“My Pen. Pen-el-o-pe,” he sounded it out slowly and Edmund was unsure if it was because he was struggling to pronounce it or if Colin just thought his father was daft.
And Edmund wondered if maybe he was, for it took him a moment to place where he knew the name from. “Portia Featherington’s Penelope?”
“No,” Colin jutted his chin out stubbornly. “My Pen.”
“Colin, did you kidnap this baby?” Edmund blurted out frantically, the panic beginning to set in. “Where is Eloise?”
Colin shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know. She was in the other pram. I just swapped their blankets.”
“You can’t just swap your sister away, Colin!”
“Why not? Pen gets so sad when she has to go home. I just wanted to make her happy. I thought she’d be much happier here with me.”
“What about your sister?”
“El agreed with me!” Colin grinned up cheekily at his father.
“Eloise can’t speak, Colin!”
“But she can scream. I took her scream as a yes.”
Edmund felt like screaming himself.
“You swapped them and didn’t let me help?” he heard Daphne begin to sob beside him.
“Sorry, Daph,” Colin turned the innocent act on Daphne, smiling sheepishly at her and crossing the room to hug her. This time his charm worked. His sister stopped crying. “It was a very last-minute thing. If it makes you feel better, you did help by distracting Danbury, so in a way we couldn’t have done it without you.”
Daphne beamed back at her brother.
“Daddy, can we keep her?” she turned her own charm on Edmund, now wholly committed to the scheme. Edmund wrenched his gaze from his daughter. He might be immune to Colin’s sheepish smile but Daphne’s big fluttering eyelashes were always a point of weakness for him.
“No!” he said with conviction, “She isn’t a stray puppy, Daphne. We cannot keep another family’s baby.”
He made the mistake of looking at the little redhead in his arms and regretted it instantly. Her wide, worried blue eyes charmed him at a glance. He expected as much from his own children, but not from this out of place little girl. She pulled at his heartstrings immediately, as if she was a member of his own family. And when she reached her little hand up to touch his cheek, his heart melted.
“Besides,” Edmund reasoned, with little conviction in his voice. “You should be very happy to not have been included in this, Daphne. Colin is in a lot of trouble.”
Daphne’s eyes widened with worry, but Colin didn’t look the least bit phased. If anything, he looked rather pleased with himself.
“Anthony!” Edmund hissed, hearing the clomping sound of his eldest son in the hall.
The thirteen-year-old poked his head in the room.
“What?”
“Would you mind stepping in here for a moment?”
“Of course,” Anthony’s voice cracked as he dutifully joined them in the room.
“How did the babysitting go, son?” Edmund questioned his eldest. He bounced Penelope lightly in his arms. “Anything important or noteworthy you want to share with me?”
Anthony paused, sensing he was walking into a trap but not sure how to navigate around the danger. “No,” he said quietly, brows knitting together. “Everything went smoothly. Nothing worth mentioning.”
Is he lying or just this oblivious? Edmund wondered.
“Do you notice anything out of place?” he hinted.
Anthony looked around, carefully eyeing Colin and Daphne, who were snickering devilishly. After what felt like ages, he zeroed in on the baby in his father’s arms.
“When did Eloise get red hair?” he turned on his younger siblings. “Did you two dye her hair while I was doing my homework?”
Colin and Daphne erupted into laughter.
“This isn’t Eloise!” Edmund hissed. He would have shouted if not for fear of alerting Violet to the mayhem.
Anthony went pale.
“It’s Pen!” Colin cheered, throwing his hands in the air. Daphne applauded until their father leveled them with a deliberate glare.
“Where’s Eloise?” Anthony blurted out.
“I don’t know, Anthony,” his father said derisively. “I was hoping you could tell me, considering you were left in charge.”
“I–I don’t–what is happening?”
“It would appear Colin swapped Eloise with another baby from daycare,” Edmund explained.
“Not just any baby–” Colin interrupted.
“Yes, yes. Pen. We know, Colin,” his father sighed, rubbing a hand down his face in frustration. A tiny hand followed the motion and he looked up to see Penelope’s wide, worried eyes gazing at his face in concern. She poked at the corner of his mouth as if encouraging him to smile. “Anthony, how did you not notice?”
“I – she had a hat on,” he said lamely.
“She doesn’t look a thing like Eloise,” his father protested.
“I hardly looked at her,” Anthony admitted. “Colin kept insisting he would help and was taking care of her. I wanted to encourage him to be helpful with the babies, so I let him. Plus, I was stressing out over my maths homework. I’ve been trying for hours and I still can’t work it out! She was all giggles; didn’t scream or cry a bit. So I gave him some space, just checked in every once and a while, but Colin insisted he had everything sorted. And it seemed like he did.”
“I did!” Colin insisted cheekily, earning him twin glares from his father and brother.
“Anthony,” Edmund grunted out, “Why don’t you take Daphne to meet your new sister, Francesca,” Edmund suggested, “Your mother is downstairs with her. Later, I’ll talk to you later about the importance of perceptiveness and responsibility. Right now, I need to have a word with Colin…alone.”
“Can Pen stay?” Colin piped up. Edmund shot him a look that silenced him quickly but couldn’t quite wipe the grin off his face.
“Tell your mother the birthday cake will have to wait a little while; that I’m getting the older birthday girl ready. But do not tell her what is going on. I don’t want to stress her out.”
Anthony nodded tightly. Anthony ushered his sister from the room before Colin could charm the blame back onto him. Edmund watched patiently until the door closed, before he started pacing.
“Cake!” Colin cheered at the reminder of what his sisters’ birthday meant. He looked like he was having the best day of his life.
“Not for you!” Edmund scolded. “You’re in so much trouble, Colin!”
“So no cake?” Colin’s smile faltered.
“Absolutely no cake.” Penelope whimpered and Edmund rubbed her back reassuringly. “That’s the first of your punishments, though there may be more to come.”
His mind whirred in a hundred different directions, as he tried to determine how best to tackle this situation. He bounced Penelope with each step even as the little girl squirmed to keep her eyes on Colin.
“I have to call Mrs. Danbury to get Portia’s information. Hopefully I can get Eloise back and return Penelope before your mother notices,” Edmund tried to reassure himself.
“No!” Colin’s yell startled Edmund. “She’s mine!”
“Colin Bridgerton!” Edmund tried to sound strict as he scolded his son, but it never quite came out with the conviction or flair his wife mustered when chiding their son, and he couldn’t help finding Colin’s attachment to the baby rather endearing. The exhaustion of the day was going a long way to help him appear appropriately stern.
Colin’s smile faltered – a rare occurrence for this little boy – his lip wobbling, as tears pooled in his eyes. Edmund pulled him back to the sofa, tucking him against his side. His son burrowed into his chest crying and Edmund did his best to comfort him, rubbing Colin’s back gently, even as the little girl squirmed in his arm. It didn’t take long for her little hands to find Colin’s chestnut hair and grab a fistful. He pulled his head from his father’s chest to look into her wide, worried eyes. Penelope’s little hand brushed at his tear stained cheeks.
“Col-in,” she sounded out slowly and the smile reappeared on his face in an instant.
He twisted in his father’s lap to hug her.
“Good job, Pen! See, I knew you wanted to talk. You just didn’t want to talk to your mum.”
Edmund blinked down at the two children, trying to comprehend what was happening.
“Wait–” he blinked hard and addressed Colin, “Are you implying that was her first word?”
Colin shrugged, “I don’t know. Her mum was complaining before we left that Pen can’t talk yet.”
“Alright,” Edmund replied, wondering if the stress of the day was beginning to make him delirious. Releasing Colin, he lifted Penelope with both hands, bouncing her excitedly and cooing praises at the little girl. On the off-chance Colin was right and these were her first words, he wanted to encourage the little girl. Finding one’s voice was a big part of one’s development and while he was sorry her own mother and father weren’t here to hear it, he felt it was his duty to support this sweet little girl in the yellow dress. So, he bounced and tossed and tickled her until she was made of nothing but smiles and giggles. Colin cheered right along with him the whole time.
In an effort to subdue any more bouts of tears, Edmund let Colin sit and cuddle with Penelope while he phoned Mrs. Danbury then Portia Featherington. It was difficult to make out what Portia was saying over the layered screams emitting from the many residents of the Featherington home, but Edmund was able to gather the information he needed and ascertain that Portia Featherington was in a very foul mood.
He was grateful to learn the Featheringtons lived, conveniently, just across the square from them, so he could try to dart across the street and swap the babies leaving his wife none the wiser. It wasn’t that he wanted to keep it a secret. He just reasoned it was better she find out about it in hindsight, on a day she hadn’t just given birth.
When the time came to take Penelope, Edmund bent down gently to speak to Colin. While he didn’t particularly understand just how or why, he could see now that little Penelope Featherington was very special to his son.
“Colin,” he began gently. His son pulled his gaze from the little girl to look at his father with his sad, knowing green eyes. “It’s time to say goodbye to your Pen for the night.”
“Do I have to?” Colin asked, lip wobbling slightly again.
“Yes, Col. And don’t even think about trying to do something like this again. I know you meant well, but you can’t just steal a baby.”
“I didn’t steal her,” Colin protested. “She wanted to come.”
“But her mother didn’t know where she was, Colin.”
“I traded her Eloise in return.”
“You can’t trade away your sister. How would you feel if Anthony traded you for Penelope’s sister and you had to live with the Featheringtons?”
Colin shrugged, “Would Pen be there?”
Edmund refrained from rolling his eyes. Poor choice of example.
“No,” Edmund tried to amend his scenario.
“Oh,” Colin hesitated, “Then I’d rather not go.”
“Exactly. Don’t you think Eloise misses her family right now?” He wanted to suggest Penelope was missing her family as well, but it was hard to make that case when she was blissfully snuggled up against Colin’s chest with a bright grin on her face.
“I think Eloise is very independent,” Colin reasoned. “Mummy says she’s going to be a strong, independent woman.”
“When she grows up,” Edmund replied. “Right now, she is a baby Colin. She needs her family. As does your Miss Penelope. So, it’s time to say your goodbyes.”
Colin pouted a little but gave the little redhead one last squeeze and sat her up in his lap, so he could look at her as he said his goodbyes.
“I’m sorry you have to go, Pen,” Colin cooed at the little redhead, twisting a red curl around his little fingers. “But I’ll see you again tomorrow,” he promised. Edmund didn’t have the heart to tell him Violet and Edmund didn’t have to work tomorrow so Colin wouldn’t be at daycare. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have one less kid running around the house with the newborn for a few hours. “I’ll miss you the whole time but we’ll be back together before you know it.”
He leant down to press a kiss to her cheek, as he often did to Eloise when his parents put her to bed, but Penelope twisted her head at the last second and their little lips pressed together. Penelope’s cheeky giggles when Colin pulled back grinning, were almost enough to convince Edmund that she knew exactly what she was doing.
“Alright, you little minx,” Edmund sighed, pulling the still giggling baby away from his son. “That’s enough for tonight.”
His eyes teared up again, but Colin refrained from protesting again.
Penelope’s eyes turned glassy, quiet tears building as they left Colin behind in the room. Edmund did his best to sooth the girl with hushed whispers, rubbing gentle circles on her back as he crept down the stairs. Thankfully, she proved to be a quiet little darling, even as her sadness was evident on her face. None of his children had been nearly this quiet and, as much as Edmund loved them, he had to admit it was a pleasant change. Perhaps if he was lucky, Francesca might be the one to break the pattern. Was that too much to hope for?
He snuck past the kitchen, where Violet was introducing Francesca to her siblings. Anthony, Daphne, and their still-oblivious-brother, Benedict, seemed to be doing a remarkable job distracting his wife – with perhaps the slight exception of Anthony whispering something to Benedict and Benedict shooting a smirk at his father, as Edmund tried to sneak by the doorway unnoticed. Thankfully, Daphne had held her mother’s attention captive, asking to hold her new little sister.
He bundled Penelope up tightly in a Bridgerton blue blanket, placing her gently in the pram and cursing the Featherington’s squeaky wheeled carriage as he made his way out the door.
The quiet little sobs only started when the door closed behind them. He knew it was likely due to the cool night air or the sudden darkness, or that the child was hungry, but something in his heart told him the cries were because little Penelope Featherington did not want to leave the Bridgertons behind. Especially Colin Bridgerton.
As he made his way across the square, towards the address he had been given, little Penelope’s whimpered cries were drowned out by a wretched chorus of muffled shrieks. How anyone heard his knock, over the chaos going on inside the Featherington abode, was nothing less than miraculous. In fact, he had to assume that Portia had been watching at the window, for mere seconds after his fist connected with the door, it flung open. Without the filter of the door, the shrieks cascaded into the night.
Eloise’s shriek pierced his ears and his heart in equal measure and Edmund scrambled to rescue his daughter from the distressed grasp of Portia Featherington. The woman berated him over this unfortunate debacle, as her two older daughters wrestled behind her over what looked to be a Barbie dressed in the most gaudy yellow dress Edmund had ever seen. Their father walked through completely unphased by the litany of screams and Edmund found himself wondering whether the man was completely oblivious, had grown too used to the noise and bickering, or had been graced with the gift of deafness. As it was, Edmund was developing a dreadful headache, after only moments in the entry of the house.
“Yes, I’m terribly sorry for this whole situation,” Edmund apologized. “Please don’t hold it against Mrs. Danbury. It was not at all her fault.”
“What kind of a parent takes the wrong child home?” Portia snapped,
You . Edmund fought the urge to fire back.
He cleared his throat and donned that charming, sheepish smile that he had passed on to his son. “My wife and I were unable to pick up the children today. We were actually caught up at the hospital, as my wife went into labour. Our elder sons were supposed to handle picking up their siblings from daycare and I can assure you they will be getting a stern talking to. Thankfully, all went well and both my wife and new daughter are happy and healthy, if not exhausted. But you can imagine, I’m sure, the panic I felt when I realized what had happened.”
“It’s no wonder you can’t keep track, with six little ones,” Portia replied aghast. Edmund was suddenly reminded why he tried to limit his interactions with her to fleeting moments at events they both attended. “Dreadfully irresponsible of your sons.”
“Yes, our eldest, Anthony, was terribly overwhelmed. I fear it was too much responsibility to dump on him at such a young age,” Edmund replied, deciding it was best to throw Anthony under the bus and preserve Colin’s reputation in the eyes of the woman whose daughter he was so clearly attached to. “I hope you won’t hold it against my other children though. They do so love spending time with your daughters.”
He had no idea whether this was true as far as the older two girls went. Neither Daphne nor Colin had ever remarked on them. But little Penelope was so sweet and the perfect age to befriend Eloise in the future, even if Colin’s infatuation faded, so Edmund tried his best to salvage what he could from this disaster.
By the time he left, he was rather chuffed to believe he had won Portia over. In fact, she had quickly agreed to arranging a playdate between all the children – although he suspected there may have been some ulterior motive in her obvious desire to get her screaming daughters out of the house.
Eloise loudly announced their return when Edmund pushed the front door open. Edmund shushed her, hoping she didn’t wake her new little sister.
“Edmund?” his wife called to him from the kitchen and he did his best to enter nonchalantly. This was made all the harder when he entered to find his wife and Colin hunched over heaping plates of chocolate cake, Francesca’s carrier on the counter next to his wife with her tiny red face peeking out of a blue blanket.
“You two started eating the cake without the birthday girl?” Edmund raised an eyebrow at his wife.
“We had one of the birthday girls,” Violet smirked nodding at the newborn sleeping in her carrier, “So Colin made the very compelling case we could eat half the cake.”
“Oh, he did, did he?” Edmund raised an eyebrow at his son.
Colin grinned up at his father cheekily, chocolate frosting caked around his mouth. Edmund could only smile back lightly and shake his head.
Forget kidnapping. Edmund reckoned his charming little boy could get away with murder if he set his mind to it.