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Penelope waited in the warm sunlight of her family’s humble drawing room, pulling at the fingers of her gloves as she watched the grand doors. Colin had promised to visit at the conclusion of last night’s ball, and she knew that time was running thin.
She knew what she had to do, only she wasn’t sure if she was ready for it.
As she cast her gaze out the sunlit window, she heard footsteps approaching, and then there he was, that beautiful beaming smile on his face as he stepped into the room and gave a graceful bow.
“Colin,” she said quietly, being unable to help the smile that spread to her lips.
“I know I promised I would come to see you today but I’m afraid it is to be a shorter visit than I would have hoped,” he said, taking a step forward and reaching for her hand. “Anthony wishes to discuss something with me, no doubt some obligation he requires me to fulfill.”
Her fingertips tingled where he now held her tightly, bringing her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles.
“You look beautiful,” he said, and her cheeks flushed.
As she caught his eyes she felt the fire coursing between them, and she was right back in that carriage, want and need in his touch and his hands…
He stepped in close to her and her body was pulled in like there was some magnetic force between them, her breath grew short and she felt her heartbeat quicken in her chest, his eyes being drawn there as it rose heavily, and then that look overtook his features again.
“Colin, we cannot…” she said with a shake of her head, but her body remained close enough to feel the heat in his.
“Your mouth tells me one thing and your eyes another,” he said with a playful sparkle in his hungry eyes.
“My mother is never far away in this house,” she said, dropping his fiery gaze but making no move to step out of his grip. “She could walk in on us without warning.”
“I would wager we are past those worries, are we not?” he said with a blissfully ignorant and playful smile on his mouth.
Her eyes dropped to his pink lips, her own pinched in a smile as his thumb rubbed the backs of her fingers.
"We are to be married after all," he said with a curl on his mouth and eyes that roamed every inch of her face, lingering on her full lips. "You will be my wife and I may kiss you whenever I please, and whenever pleases you."
Her heart did that somersault movement that it always did when he looked at her this way. She wondered if that would ever stop. But she couldn't help but feel the sense of dread fill her. Surely, she was in a dream, a wonderful one, but soon enough Colin would wake up and realise he had made a mistake, that they were only ever meant to be friends. Or worse, once she shared with him her secret he would be unable to look at her, or the adoring gaze he currently held would change to something she couldn't bear, and she would lose him completely.
"You might yet change your mind about wishing to marry me," she said softly, trying to disguise her fears with a weary smile and a breathy chuckle.
Colin's brow furrowed, searching her eyes a moment and then letting out a laugh as though the mere idea of it was preposterous.
"And whyever would I do such a thing?" he asked, searching her eyes a moment before the flush reached her cheeks and she looked down at her hands, perched in his, with his thumb stroking gently over her knuckles, eyeing the sparkling ring adorning her finger. "Of course," he continued after clearing his throat and beginning to pull his hand from hers. "If you would prefer to wait and do not wish me to–"
Her grip tightened, making his fingers take pause as she looked up from under her eyelashes at him.
"That is not what I said," her lips gave a gentle smile, and his seemed to take over his features and his chest swelled with it.
He let one hand retreat from hers and reached up to drag his finger along the line of her chin and up to her cheek. Her heart did another flip in her chest, and he leant in closer, his fingertips now fanning out over her neck so that he could cup her full face in his hand, eyes watching her lips as they parted ever so softly for him, taking his so easily it was as if they were made for them.
Surely not all kisses could be like this. They must not all make one flutter in the belly and hear their heartbeat in their ears. They couldn’t all create that feeling as though there were only the two of them left in the world. But that was how kissing Colin felt, and Penelope let it overtake her, committing every little part of it to memory and hoping it would give her enough courage to say the thing she desperately needed to.
Colin’s tongue grazed the outline of her top lip and she felt herself sinking into him, the last ounce of willpower in her body stopping her from reaching up to tangle her gloved fingers in his hair, something she has quickly come to learn that Colin likes very much.
“Colin I…” she began, wishing they could live in the blissful moment of their kiss and never leave it.
She did not know what he would do when she told him, she only knew that she must do it. If he was going to find out who she was then she must tell him herself, even if it meant that she might lose him.
She had been naïve to think they could go through with the marriage while she kept her secret to herself. What was a marriage if there were secrets? Let alone one such as this?
“If I am to only have a few more moments to kiss you, do you not think you might want to make the most of them?” he teased, kissing her again.
And she did want to make the most of it. She wanted to remember exactly how it felt to have Colin’s lips against hers and his fingers on her skin. She wanted this memory burned into her for as long as she lived so that even if he would never touch her again, she might remember how wonderful it had been when he did.
But this couldn’t wait, not with Eloise threatening to expose her and the Queen offering a reward to anyone that might dare unmask her. Not when she knew that Colin, kind, sweet, good man that he was, deserved the whole truth.
“There is something I…” there were her words stuck in her throat again, and this time Colin looked down over her with concern.
“Is something the matter?” he asked.
“I must tell you something,” her voice came out quiet, the last word but a squeak as Colin’s hands came to rest on her shoulders to steady her.
“Penelope, what’s wrong?”
She wished that there was any part of him that wasn’t so kind, it made what she had to do that much harder.
“I must tell you something, and I do not know what you might think of me once I do,” she said quickly. “And I need you to know that I never meant to hurt you, that is the last thing I would ever wish for, I–”
“Hurt me?” his eyes turned to confusion as his hands squeezed her shoulders tighter. “You could never… what on earth are you talking about?”
"I am Lady Whistledown," she said, taking in a breath which got stuck in her throat as she waited for his reaction. In truth, she had not meant to blurt it out quite so suddenly.
To her surprise, he let out a laugh.
"Penelope that is hardly something to joke about," he said with a smile, he did not believe her in the slightest.
"Colin," she said in a pleading tone, looking back to him with tears in her eyes, and slowly his face began to fall.
"No, that... you cannot be Whistledown," he said, eyes growing darker as he searched the recesses of his mind for all the evidence that it could not be true.
“Is it so incredibly unfathomable?” she asked.
As much as she enjoyed the power and independence that being Lady Whistledown afforded her, this was truly the first moment that she wished they were not one in the same. She knew what Colin thought of her, and hoped that his affections for her outweighed his desire to see Whistledown caught and punished. She wished she knew that for certain.
"But Whistledown has written a number of unfavourable things about you," he shook his head. “Of your family.”
"If she did not then it would appear suspicious to the Ton,” Penelope said. “Maybe it would not if it was a family such as yours, but mine is one far too many people often gossip about in quiet corners.”
And then came the moment she had expected.
His hands left her shoulders, leaving her cold. He took a few steps back and his eyes did not look up for the longest of moments, and when they did, all the brightness in them had dimmed.
“No, I do not believe you,” he said, but it was as though he was still trying to convince himself.
“Because I am not capable of pulling this off?” she asked, trying not to be concerned with his dismissal, but the fact was that after all of it, she was proud of what she had done.
She was proud that she had done something that no one would ever expect or even think possible of the plain and insipid wallflower that was Penelope Featherington.
“Because you are Pen!” he said, raising his voice and causing her to flinch. “And she is…”
“You and I have shared gossip in the past, have we not?” she asked.
“This is not idle gossip on the sidelines of ballroom dancefloors,” he said, and she could hear the anger creeping into his voice. “She is scandal and ruin and… some of the things she has said…”
She could see something new in his eyes now. Hurt, disappointment, betrayal.
“Why are you telling me this?” he asked, and the pain in his voice made her throat go dry and her chest seize.
“We… there is no place in a marriage for secrets,” she said softly, her pleading eyes looking back at him but none of his kindness had returned, instead there was a kind of coldness she had never hoped to see.
“And you wish me as your husband to help you keep this secret? To become complicit?” he snapped.
“No!”
"The Queen has a bounty on her head!"
"Do you not think I know that?! It is exactly why I have retired her!" she said without meaning to, and Colin narrowed his eyes as though he had not heard her correctly.
"You what?"
"If you do not believe me then you will by the time you return home," she said. "Whistledown will publish that she intends to retire from the business of public speculation, that she has grown bored and no longer wishes to be tangled up in the trade of gossip.”
He nodded a little, taking it in. And then his head did a slight tick, and she could see him working to keep himself restrained. He did not look up at her as he spoke.
“Because you have realised how dangerous it is?”
“Because I do not wish to drag you down into my ruin should someone learn the truth!” she said, and his eyes turned to her again.
She took a tentative step towards him but paused as she saw the way his body tensed, and his eyes grew wary.
“My god, it’s true,” he said in a quiet breath, and he looked back at her as though he was wondering whether on earth he knew her at all.
“Colin, you must know I never wanted to hurt you with this,” she swallowed down the lump in her throat, but he was taking another step backward.
“Penelope I… I don’t…” he closed his eyes as he searched for the words.
Of course, that was when Mrs Featherington decided to make an appearance, true to form.
“Ah! Mr Bridgerton, will you be joining us for tea?” she said as she came waltzing through the doors, so eager to please, so happy that Penelope had snared someone of his standing.
Colin took in a shaky breath as he looked back at Penelope with wounded eyes, taking a moment to compose himself before he turned his mouth up in a smile and reapplied his mask as best he possibly could.
“Lady Featherington,” he gave her a gracious nod. “I am afraid I must see to some duties for my brother Anthony. I was merely stopping by to advise that I will be occupied for some time. I…” he turned back to look at Penelope once more before turning his eyes to the ground. “Forgive me.”
And then he was striding out of the room, and Penelope was doing all she could not to fall to pieces where she stood.
“Well that was rather abrupt,” Portia said as she watched him, turning back to her daughter with a rather disheartened expression. “Penelope? What happened?”
Penelope let out a shaky breath, looking away from the place where Colin had disappeared and to her mother. She was not surprised to see that she was looking back and asking not for concern of Penelope’s state, but out of concern that she had done something which might jeopardize her engagement to the Ton’s most eligible bachelor.
“Nothing mama I am simply overwhelmed with happiness,” she said, feeling the tears sting in her eyes as her feet began to move across the floor. “I must fix myself, excuse me.”
Portia threw her hands up with exasperation as Penelope rushed past her. The tears began to fall before she had made it to the landing of the stairs. By the time she was closed in her room, they were spilling fast and staining the pillow as she crashed into it.
She couldn’t possibly have lost him already.
*
The day was a long and drawn out one.
When Penelope finally left her room, she knew that the latest Whistledown had been delivered because the staff was abuzz, as well as her sisters who were visiting again.
“But whoever will announce that I am with child to all the Ton?” Phillipa had said, making Prudence roll her eyes in exasperation.
“Even if Whistledown was planning to continue writing I am quite certain she would not see to post such boring information,” she said.
Penelope could not stand to sit in there with them for even a moment, and so she made an appearance for dinner and then was straight to her bedchamber again.
She tried to take to a book to distract her from the impending doom in the pit of her stomach, but there were no words enough to stop her mind from working. She even wondered if Colin would in fact break their engagement off in person or if she would just hear whispers about in in the Ton.
He would have to do it in person, of course, that is just the kind of man he is.
As she spiralled down into her thoughts she was startled by a knock on her door, her ladies-maid. It was so late; her mother couldn’t possibly need to speak with her now.
“Ma’am, you have a visitor,” she said, giving her that look she did when she knew they must be discreet. “May I suggest a warm cloak?”
Penelope felt her heartbeat quicken. Surely Colin would wait until morning to end things, but who else would call on her at such a late hour?
She found herself rushing faster through the house than perhaps she ever had, and as she came to stop at the entrance to the garden her dress and cloak billowed around her at the suddenness of it.
Because there was Colin, in that dashing brown coat and twisting his gloves in his hands as he waited. As his eyes found her, Penelope’s heart swooned at the gentle look in them, hoping it was more than just a regretful gaze as he imagined what could have been between them.
All words appeared to be lost to her, and there were so many she wanted to say, but instead she just stood there looking back, breathing heavily from her quick paces.
“I gather this is the reason behind your falling out with Eloise?” he said, breaking the silence.
It was not what she wanted to hear, and still with some of the bite of that morning, but not enough to make her ache.
There was no use lying now, not with her most precious secret laid bare.
She nodded, taking the last two steps down to meet his level on the grass.
How tragically poetic, she thought, that he might break her heart in the very place they first kissed.
He nodded in return, his body surging with a slow and heavy sigh.
“Then it is true,” he said, looking over to her and this time his eyes searched her features as if he was trying to understand, not simply adoring what he saw. “Whistledown announced her retirement, as you said.”
For once, Pen was lost for words. It happened frequently, but never around Colin, never like this.
“I had said that I hoped someone would find out about Whistledown,” he said. “That they would unmask her and have her pay for all the awful things she has written about.”
Pen pursed her lips and willed them not to tremble. She owed him the chance to say what he needed to, even if it might kill her to hear it.
“I was tired of seeing people hurt because of it. First Marina, and Eloise… and you,” he said, his eyes burning into hers as he held her gaze. “I suppose even aside from all that I had found her somewhat tiresome, and above all frustrating.”
Pen nodded, not wanting to interrupt when he clearly needed to speak his thoughts.
“She is irksome to me, and perhaps that is because whenever she writes of me, she seems to know more about my own self than I do,” he said. “She publishes the thoughts I have not yet deigned to fully uncover. I suppose I should not be surprised that she is you in that regard. You have always known me just as much if not more than I have known myself.”
There was a wistfulness about him, glazing over in his eyes as he looked down at his gloves, turning his body to face out into the garden with yet another sigh.
“Colin I am sorry,” she said, barely loud enough for him to hear. “It was never my intention to hurt you, that is the last thing in this world that I would ever want.”
“You had to know that trading in secrets would grow more enemies than friends,” he said, no malice in his words but a telling look in his eye.
And then he was turning his back to her, taking in another great sigh and closing his eyes with a shake of his head.
Penelope took another step closer.
“I have never had a vast selection of the latter,” she said. “Eloise, your family… that is all I have had in the world and I have managed to lose all of it.”
He began to take a few steps, putting his hand to his head.
“I have managed to lose you,” she said, and just the sound of it on her lips made her ache.
She watched as he shook his head, turning to pace one way and then the other.
“You have not lost me,” he said, though he did not yet turn around.
He just continued to pace as though building up the thoughts in his mind, or trying to work some sense into them.
"Colin...?" she said, not nearly loud enough to hold any force, quietly pleading as though she thought it useless to try but could not hold his name back.
It was irritating. She had been so independent and capable alone for so long, it was only now that she had the promise of Colin, his hand, his dreams and his heart, that she felt so afraid of losing him, so uncertain of what her life would be like without him. The simple notion that she may have to go back to what her life had been like before Colin had looked back at her and really truly seen her, it terrified her.
But she knew the truth was that he was only just seeing her now, that the way he had looked at her before might disappear. She couldn't stand the thought of any coldness in his eyes, she hardly thought it was possible, but she had never seen him angry the way he had been when he found out about Whistledown.
He paused midway across the grass, still with his back to her as if in suspended motion.
For a moment she thought they may stay frozen like this forever, that she would forever be so close to being his wife but never quite make it, that he would stand with his back to her as long as was possible or that she may never see those stunning blue eyes again. Her entire body ached at the thought of it.
But then he was turning slowly at the shoulder, and she was sucking in a breath and holding it tight in her throat.
There was a sadness in his eyes, truly, but somehow still that kindness in him endured as he met her glassy eyes. He turned until he was facing her head on, head tilted downward and the softest of smiles on his mouth in contrast with the furrow in his brow.
"I still intend to marry you, Pen," he said quietly, and she shook her head just so, eyelashes fluttering and catching the tears that had begun to gather beneath them.
"What?" she asked.
He began to take slow steps toward her, and she searched his eyes for any sign that he was perhaps being cruel, but it simply did not exist in him to be so. His expression softened, taking quicker steps when he noticed the liquid in the corner of her eye threatening to spill over.
He reached out for her, one hand cradling her chin as the other carded through her hair and his thumb collected her tear before it had the chance to fall.
"Perhaps the only thing that makes me angrier, or indeed more frightened than what you have shared with me, is that I might let that, or anything, blind me from this, from you," he said, and from so close she could see the anger and the fear that he spoke of, burning behind his eyes but contained by something stronger. "That I may be fool enough to let myself lose you, when I have only just found you."
Penelope closed her eyes and turned her face from him only as much as his hands would allow. She felt a heat in her cheeks and wondered if this was just how he felt in the moment, if once the excitement and passion subsided, he would change his mind and resent her for the things she had written.
"I know how you feel about what Whistledown has done, I would not blame you for wanting to be rid of me, for regretting your proposal to someone you do not even know."
"I do not regret it," he said, how could she possibly think so? "And I do not think that I no longer know you. I simply... know more now than I did yesterday."
“This is not merely new information, and you know that,” she said, and he made a grand effort of huffing out in his frustration.
"Penelope I... I love you," he said, and she felt that if he had not had his hands on her and holding her steady, she may have melted into the floor. "I did not know if that was how I felt until you told me... my fear that something may happen to you is greater than my thoughts on Whistledown.”
For a moment she stared back in stunned silence, stuck on his words and unsure if she should blurt out her feelings for him or address what he said. He pulled his hands from her shoulders and stepped back to look at her, giving a great exhale as though it was a weight lifted to finally tell her how he felt.
“But… you seem so angry,” she said finally in a hushed voice.
"I am not angry that you are Whistledown, I am angry because I do not care about that," he said, frustration creeping into his voice.
"I do not understand," Pen said, watching him closely as he balled his hand into a fist and let it go again, shaking his head and looking back to her.
"I was angry with Whistledown," he said. "For all that she has said and done and caused. And I wanted to be angry with her when finally she was unmasked, and then it turns out she is you... And I find myself no longer angry but terrified that someone may find out and do you ruin the way I had wanted to do to her, that someone may seek to hurt you because of it and the mere thought of that... it makes me angry. More angry than I am at Whistledown for the things she... you have published. And that does not make sense to me! That my feelings for you are so much so that my desire to see you protected comes above all else. I love you Penelope Featherington, I love you in a way that consumes me. I love you with every waking moment and in all of my dreams. My love for you drives my anger, my fear, my desires. I fear that I may never know happiness again and not think of sharing it with you. I would protect you against anyone who would harm you, and I do suppose that includes myself."
He shook his head, stepping back and pressing a hand to his temple. He should have been conflicted, and in fact he was, but it was more due to the fact that he found the decision very simple.
It should have been something that she had longed to hear, and in all realities, it was. Her heart soared and his words rang in her ears. But to hear him offer to protect her and keep her safe in this way caused a petulant stirring inside her. He was a man, yes, but she had been conducting herself for three seasons now independent of one. He may have saved her from spinsterhood, but she did not need saving from this.
"I have been managing by myself for quite a time now," she said, more bite in her words than perhaps she intended. "I can take care of myself."
"Then what good am I to you?" he raised his voice, eyes desperate as he gazed back at her. It made her... sad. But she understood him completely.
He had grown up knowing that without doubt he would marry a young lady, he was a Bridgerton after all. The only young ladies who would meet their standard had to be perfect, had to be all that society expected of them. They would play the pianoforte and be masters of embroidery and rely on their husbands to be their protectors and saviours, their greatest purpose being their ability to provide them with a son.
And Penelope had nothing against that, for some young ladies there was no better purpose. But not for her. She had ambition and dreams and sought more from her life than simply being someone's wife.
She imagined Colin felt the same, only he seemed so lost, like he thought maybe she could become his purpose and it would be enough that she needed him. But if he wanted a woman like that he had chosen poorly.
Though she could not imagine a woman without passions extending from the household would be enough for Colin. He was a man in search of adventure and wit and something to make him feel alive.
"Do you truly think so simply of yourself?" she said in a hushed voice, and his eyes turned from her but he gave no intention of stepping too far out of her orbit. "That your only purpose in this world is to be a good husband?"
"I am not sure what else I have to give," he said, defeated and voice hoarse as though he was holding back his own tears. "If it is not enough then I am not sure what you could possibly want me for."
She let out an incredulous laugh. She hadn't meant to, and his eyebrow shot up in surprise.
"Sorry I... I did not mean to laugh," she said, pressing her fingertips to her lips.
"You find my sentiment funny?" he said, and he should have been angry about it, but his lips quirked in almost a smile.
God, he really must love her.
"I find it laughable that you think there is any world in which I could not want you," she said, now entirely serious. "I can take care of myself, yes, but I did not see you as simply a means to provide me with some kind of protection should this end badly. When I was looking for a match this season I wanted to be sensible, because I never thought there could ever be anything more between us. You were never the sensible choice because I knew being with you meant I had to share this secret. Had I found a match in anyone else, I would not."
As she spoke the words, they sunk in with how true they were. She never had any intention of letting a husband in on who she was, the business she had created. She would use the privacy of her own home, as lady of the house, to continue conducting her affairs, that was until the Queen made the proclamation she did. Colin was different. A marriage with Colin was different. It was a thing of dreams, not sensibilities.
"If you would have me stand here and list all the reasons that I might want you, I fear we would be here all night," she said with a deep sigh. "If you were to realise that you made a mistake, that you could not look past this, I would not blame you."
"I lay my heart bare for you and you still doubt my commitment to you?" he said with a raised brow and a huff of forced laughter. "Now who is making laughable commentary."
"I do not disgust you?" she said, and he stepped in to cup her face in his hands again.
"That, is simply not possible, and if you would like me to explain all the reasons why then we really would be here all night."
They stood looking back at one another in silence a moment. Colin’s eyes softened and he stepped in towards her, reaching out to touch her cheek with the back of his finger.
"In truth I... I think myself rather, jealous, of you," he said softly, and there was the fear, the uncertainty, the kind of wistful sadness she had misinterpreted as disappointment in her.
"Jealous?" she asked with wide eyes. "Of Whistledown?"
"Not of Whistledown, of you," he said. "Of what you have built, what you have accomplished. You have done something with your life, and I am still without a true purpose.”
“All I have done has been in secret,” she said. “I may have accomplished something but in truth, it has been rather lonely, with no one to share it with.”
“And you would hope to share it with a man who has accomplished nothing?” he asked. “Could you love a man with no purpose and direction?”
"I have loved you since we were children," she said, pressing her hand to his chest as he immediately reached to clasp it and hold it in place, as if she were keeping his heart from beating out of his chest. "Since that unfortunate incident with a terrible yellow hat and I watched you topple into the mud. You got to your feet, and you smiled and from that moment there was no hope that I might find a love match in anyone else, it has always been you, Colin. I know it is not typical of a wife to have my kind of... hobbies. I know you do not approve of Whistledown, and I am done with her, but I don't think I could stop myself from writing… something. A feeling I imagine you must share? You have travelled so widely, surely you have filled multiple journals by now."
"My writing is just something I..." he sighed, giving a shake of his head. "As you said, they are just journals. Errant words as I remember them. Nothing thoughtful or planned."
"But Colin you are an excellent writer!" she exclaimed before she could stop herself, and he looked up hesitantly, catching her eyes with his. "I know what I read was not for my eyes, but I would very much like to read more, should you choose to let me."
He paused for a moment considering her words and trying not to let the excited sparkle in her eyes distract him from them.
"You truly mean that?" he asked, and she nodded into a smile.
"I know you may not think much of it, in truth it is hard to see the good in ones own writing," she said. "And I know it may not mean much coming from me, but you really do have a talent for it."
In all realities, it meant so much more coming from Penelope and not just because of how prolific her writing had become in the Ton as Lady Whistledown, but because he loved her, and he was learning that it was her opinion he valued over almost all others.
In a passionate sweep his arm was wrapped around her waist and pulled her body into him, their hands still bound tightly between them as his lips crashed down into her and set her alight with warmth. He kissed her as though he could not get enough of her, as though each brush of their lips and caress of his tongue against hers only made him want her more fervently instead of sating his desire.
His hands pressed flat to her body, sliding over her curves slowly and earnestly and moaning into her as they cupped her backside so that her hips met his between them. She sighed and let her fingers ball up in his shirt at the feel of his hard heat radiating just above her thigh. She felt an undulating warmth pulse through her from low in her belly, a kind of want building in her that she had felt only once before, when they were alone on that carriage ride and there was no barrier between his touch and her skin.
This was decidedly less private, though her mind was in no place to question that, she was lost in his kiss, in his touch, in his words still ringing in her ears. I love you Penelope Featherington.
He pulled his lips back, resting his head against hers as they both took laboured breaths. His hands rose to an only slightly more respectable rest at the curve of her back and hips.
"Is there anyone else awake in the house?" he asked, shifting his hips against her and looking down to the way it made her lip drop open wider.
"It is just me and Mama and the house staff, I can't imagine anyone else would be awake at this hour," she whispered.
"Good," he said, placing a soft kiss on her top lip and pulling away to take her hand and begin to lead her through to the house.
"Colin!" she said, holding tight to his hand and feeling the excitement rush through her.
He turned to flash her a smile as they reached the door, Penelope's ladies-maid Rae opening it and making a point not to make eye contact as she smiled with her head down. Despite it being her house, Colin led her down the halls, eyes cautiously watching the corners each time they turned and never dropping her hand. He only hesitated when they had to make their way to her bedchamber, a place he had never been. And then she was pulling him closer, urging the door open and trying to do so quietly as Colin slipped through.
She locked eyes with Rae as she began to close it, receiving a smile and nod before allowing her to pull them to a close.
Her breath heaved as she turned to Colin, eyes ravishing her hungrily and stepping in, fingertips grazing her cheek and placing a chaste kiss to her lips. And then they were trailing delicately down to her chin and the line of her neck, her head falling to the side to allow him. Her hands pressed lightly to his sides, and then his were reaching down to unhook the clasp on her cloak, revealing the casual silk she had yet to change out of for the evening.
A shiver licked her skin, but not from the chill in the air, instead from the way his mouth felt just above her shoulder, the way she could feel his breath fanning out over her, the way her body throbbed as the shiver travelled through her. His hand dipped to cup the curve of her breast, parting his lips from her to admire her more with his eyes.
Eyes that did not stop roaming her body and face as he took a step back from her to shrug out of his own coat and reach for the buttons over his chest. This time it was her turn to stare, gaze locked on the dark hair that spattered his bare chest, the way his muscles flexed in his shoulders as he slipped the white material down and letting it fall to the floor. He took slow steps backward until his legs made contact with the bed, reaching his hand out for Pen to follow, and she handed him her outstretched arm so he could pull her in closer.
When she was almost before him, he began to guide her arm so that he could stand behind her. She closed her eyes and took in a breath as his fingers brushed her hair back past her ear and over her neck and shoulder, revealing the back of her silken dress. He leant in to press a kiss to her temple, and she felt his fingers drag down to the corset lacing. His lips remained brushing against her temple as she felt him loosen the first tie.
"Colin," she said softly, and he responded with a hum and another gentle kiss.
Her teeth grazed her lip and she turned to her left to see their reflection in the large, gilded mirror. He looked so wonderful, handsome; he was perfect. She was...
"Are you alright?" he asked, his hands stilling and moving instead to linger on her hips, turning to meet her eyes in the mirror and resting his head against hers. "I can stop if you would prefer–"
"No, please," she said quickly, warming at the way the smile spread to his lips.
"Then tell me what thoughts trouble you," he asked, nuzzling her affectionately with his nose.
"I just, I am not like the other girls who vie for your attentions," she said, avoiding his eyes and instead gazing at her own reflection. "Not like the women of your travels, the ones in Paris..."
For a moment his brow furrowed with confusion, and then he realised that she was comparing herself, her body, to what it is that the time dictated women should be to be beautiful. He smiled and shook his head, letting his arms roam until they were wrapped around her beneath her bust, kissing just behind her ear and let his lips press against her neck.
"But that is precisely why I want you," he murmured. "Because you are Penelope, and I want you just as you are. You are to be my beautiful wife, and I will not have you thinking there is anything more I could need."
Her eyes flicked upward to see Colin looking back, eyes warm and true, and Penelope's lips curled into a smile.
"Now," he said, a smirk creeping onto his features and his tongue dragging along her earlobe in the most divine way. "If you should want me to stop..."
"I do not want you to stop," she said. "Please, don't stop."
His mouthed at her neck and the top of her shoulder as his hands returned to the lacing on her dress, and she felt the fabric begin to loosen around her until he was pulling gently at her sleeves and urging it down her arms, past her stomach and hips. She sucked in a breath as she was left in just her thin white camisole, and Colin eyed her reflection with reverence before it too was slipping over her frame, baring her soft skin to the air and causing Colin's jaw to drop.
"I hope you know how exquisite you are," he said, his hands sliding over her skin, cupping her breasts in his hands and making her sigh.
His adoring gaze made her cheeks flush and when she turned from their reflections, he was turning her to face him, tilting her chin upwards to he could press a loving kiss to her waiting mouth. Her hands reached for his bare waist, and he let out an eager sound at that.
"Let me show you just what you do to me Penelope," he murmured against her lips, and she nodded before she let him guide her towards the bed.
He never took his eyes off her as she sat back, and his hands reached down to his breeches. In a moment, he was urging them down over his hips, his thighs, stepping out of them and standing bare before her. He paused just a moment, taking in her own admirations and giving her a smile as he climbed in the bed with her, laying his body over hers in a way that could only have been divine intention and kissing her so deeply she saw stars.
She could not have imagined what it would feel like to have Colin this way, nothing between their skin and all of him at her fingertips. She ran them through his hair as his kisses trailed her neck and decolletage, gasping as his lips and tongue found her peaked nipple and he groaned into her.
There was an excitement coursing through her as he looked back to her eyes, fire burning in his while his hand slipped from her breast and down her side, a smile crossing his mouth as his fingers slipped down to the heat between her thighs.
He watched as she panted with the first circle of his fingertip, eyes locked on her lips a moment.
“Is this alright?” he murmured, and she merely nodded, words lost as she just tightened her fingers in his hair.
Colin’s lips moved to her neck, kissing her softly while he watched her dip her head back and drop her jaw with each roll of his fingers. She could feel a pressure in her belly, foreign but it made her breath go short.
It began to build, and she could not control the sounds that escaped her lips. She tightened her grip in Colin’s hair without meaning to, making him hum out a sigh. Her toes curled as the pleasure coiled tightly like a spring inside her, finally releasing and making her cry out.
He did not still his fingers and the pleasure washed over her again, and again, until her cries grew desperate, his name rolling off her tongue so sweetly, and he let his other hand press gently to her lips. He smiled down at her incredulously as she came back to reality, realising that she had perhaps not been so subtle for the late hour, letting out an elated laugh as she caught her breath. Her hand released its grip in his hair.
“I am sorry,” she laughed, and he did along with her.
“Do not be,” he said, kissing her softly, then deeply. “I have never enjoyed hearing you say my name more.”
And then his body was pressing into hers again, and she found her knees dropping open as he fit perfectly between them. He rested his forehead against hers, lips ghosting her mouth.
“This part may hurt a little,” he said quietly, and he seemed to have a pang of regret in his eyes at that.
But Penelope knew he would never hurt her intentionally, and so she nodded, letting him know it was okay, hoping he understood that she would give him everything, and anything he asked.
She felt a pressure, a dull stab of pain, and Colin was steadying himself over her and watching her features closely for any sign that he should stop. She gave him none, instead reaching one hand to place on his waist to urge him in closer.
This time it was her turn to study his expression, watching the way his brow pinched and his jaw dropped and tightened as he slowly buried himself in her, his hips falling flush with hers and his eyes renewing his focus.
“Are you alright?” he asked, and as her body adjusted to the feel of him, she nodded.
“I am now,” she whispered.
He ran his fingers through her hair until he was cupping her head in one hand and using the other to keep himself propped above her as he began to roll his hips. She had heard her mother speak of it with her sisters, the marital act, but she had never imagined it could feel this way.
She expected something that she would be forced to endure, not this, not the kind of pleasure that Colin gave her with his hands, with his body. Not the kind of tender care with which he treated her, making sure she was fine and ready and sure.
Not the way it felt to have his strong thighs between hers and his pleasured moans against her lips. As he let his head fall beside hers, face against her neck as his hips stuttered. She leant her head into him, lips brushing his ear and murmuring his name until he was tensing up and groaning so beautifully.
She allowed her fingers to stroke gentle lines up and down his muscled back, the feeling of having him so close, knowing that he was irrevocably hers, pure pleasure in itself.
She felt his lips against her cheek, and then he was lifting himself so he may come to lie beside her, reaching for the sheet and making her laugh as they shuffled to allow its release so he could drape it across their spent bodies.
He lay so close that his chest was pressed against her side, propping himself up on his elbow and taking his hand in hers so that he may kiss each of her knuckles one by one.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, the faintest trace of concern in his eyes, clouded by his state of elatedness.
Se let out a soft chuckle and shook her head.
“Are you always to ask me if I am fine?” she said, and he grinned back.
“Of course, I am a gentleman,” he said, making her laugh louder and he tangled their fingers together before bringing one (hers, his, did it matter any longer?) to his lips.
“I do not think that was very gentlemanly,” she said, and it was his turn to laugh.
“It would be, if you were my wife,” he said, letting go of her hand so that he could wrap his arm around her, leaning in to kiss her bare shoulder.
“But I am not yet your wife,” she said, and he hummed in reply.
“The fact we are lying here now means you are more my wife than not,” he said with a lazy smile, nuzzling against her chin and making her let out a giggle. “Five days cannot go by fast enough.”
The smile was too big for her features as she thought about it. In five days, she would be Mrs Colin Bridgerton for all the Ton, for all the world. But he was right. Lying here with his arms around her felt just like it. She was his, in every way that mattered.
“No,” she said, tilting her head to the side to look at him, getting lost in those adoring blue eyes as he smiled up at her. “It cannot.”
“I want you to know,” he said softly. “That whatever you face, from now on, you are not alone, Penelope.”
He reached up to caress the side of her face, thumb glancing over her bottom lip.
“Whatever we face, we face it together,” his eyes were stern, but warm, and she knew beyond any question than he meant it. “You may be able to take care of yourself Penelope Featherington, but I would love it if you would let me help.”
She smiled, letting him lean in for the softest of kisses, perhaps her favourite kind.
“I think that is something I can do.”