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December 7 1814 during one of the coldest years in British history.
Penelope walked restlessly back and forth over her frost glazed garden. Her cheeks felt bitten pink and her fingers ached inside her thin gloves. Still, she was far too fervid to return inside. Neither Prudence nor her mother wanted to promenade, what was the point outside the social season after all?
That aside, they needed to prepare for they would soon be leaving for their country seat, Briarly Manor. A squat suffocating little place where Penelope had endured a great many Christmases being spoken over and scoffed at.
The only worse fate that she could think of was to stay in London. Sharp, unyielding London. A churning pot that did nothing but take from her without giving anything in return.
Had her longest and only friendship been for nothing? All the love she had held for Eloise. All the childhood memories, the dreams they had poured out to one another? Penelope knew she, in some ways, deserved to have lost it all, but in other ways she knew she did not and that made her want to scream.
Then there was the matter of Colin. Infuriating. Maddening. Charming. Colin. She could not even console herself anymore by thinking of him as empty headed, not when he saw what even she could not. That cousin Jack was a fraud.
In the end, he and Eloise both were Bridgertons and she was just Penelope and who was she to think she had any right being near them?
She stopped mid pace as her mother’s voice called for her to come inside at once. She could resist the onerous cry and declare that she would stay out as long as she chose. But as those shrill notes called her name again Penelope realised just how much her skin now stung in the frosty cold and decided to head inside after all.
“Ah, there you are Penelope, I have the most excellent news…my goodness, what were you doing? You look pinker than Mrs. Varley’s attempt at chicken. You were not outside this entire time were you?”
“What is your news, Mama?” Penelope sighed.
Portia was holding what appeared to be a letter, aloft. “Ah yes. I should have told you this a week ago. I have been in correspondence with the dowager viscountess Bridgerton and she wishes you to join her family at their country seat. She plans to facilitate the much needed truce between you and her daughter.”
Penelope felt her stomach churn. “Mama...” She said very carefully, as though she was trying to calm down a wild beast. “Is that wise? Is it not natural for friends to have fallings out a-”
“Nonsense Penelope!” Portia clipped, “what falling out can girls have at your age? The Bridgertons are a powerful family and it would not bode well if you were to throw away such a friendship before you and your sister are wed. I agree entirely with Violet Bridgerton, the two of you must mend things before they fester too long.”
“Mama, I cannot. Eloise will not accept it.”
Both Portia’s arms dropped to her sides, a verglas expression settling over her feline face. “Why not?”
“I-sorry?” Her mother’s voice had become dangerously low and curious.
“What is it you have done that is so egregious Miss. Eloise Bridgerton would not be able to forgive you after a near decade of friendship?”
Penelope felt herself draw back.
“Tell me Penelope.”
“It is nothing-”
“-then if it is nothing, I take it you will be in the carriage headed for Aubrey Hall first thing tomorrow?”
Penelope gaped. What could she say? She never in a million years guessed this turn of events. She had not expected to see any Bridgertons until the season began anew. Certainly not Eloise who so bitterly despised her and who certainly would not be open to mending things so soon after Penelope’s betrayal. Her only solace was that Colin, travelling as he was, would not be there.
The green Featherington Carriage jolted and bumped its way along the dignified drive leading to Aubrey Hall. Penelope had not eaten the previous night nor that morning. Her mother all the time making nauseating remarks about how good it was to see her start a reducing diet.
In truth, Penelope did want to eat. As much as she wanted to sleep. She just could not do either with the tight, constriction inside her chest and stomach. She was headed for disaster. As beneficent as Violet Bridgerton’s intentions were, she had always been, well, dreadful at understanding Eloise. Eloise despised secrecy above all else and Penelope would wager everything she had that Violet had told her daughter nothing of this plan.
The carriage door widened and Penelope eyed the gap. Could she yet escape?
With a defeated sigh she stepped primly out into the cold, grey, day.
Bridgerton servants eyed each other as they saw she brought no lady’s maid and carried only one case of belongings And she shifted uncomfortably in the thick fabric of her burnt-orange day dress as she was escorted to the main house. This was her second time wearing it, having repurposed it from the previous season, the pink Spencer jacket she wore over the top made her arms feel restricted within its vice grip and to make matters worse, that morning, Mrs. Varley had tightly curled her hair and told her not to touch it if she could help it as there would be no one else to fix it should it be unduly tousled. Overall, she felt like a ridiculous little lap dog.
“Penelope, how glad I am to see you here at last!” Violet Bridgerton smiled, the instant Penelope walked through the doors. “Is there more luggage coming in from your carriage?”
Penelope curtseyed politely. I am afraid I have travelled here quite light on luggage.”
Violet’s face fell. “I apologise. You must know that what your family has been through is never far from my thoughts. Of course, you must not concern yourself, you shall find all you need here.”
Penelope bowed her head, “thank you, that is ever so generous of you. But I promise I do not need much.”
Violet reached out and to Penelope’s surprise took her hand. “Of course you do not, dear. But never hesitate to ask for more than you need.”
A male voice sung down into the foyer “Ah, our guest has arrived!”
Penelope looked up to see Benedict Bridgerton hopping down the stairs, dressed for riding. “Have you yet told Eloise?”
Violet and her second eldest son shot back a series of silent glances that told Penelope all she needed to know. Eloise indeed knew nothing of her arrival and was no doubt going to be furious.
“Eloise will be down soon, I am sure of it.” Violet spoke, plastering a strained smile on her face for Penelope’s benefit. “In the meantime, why not tell Colin who has arrived, Benedict?”
“Colin?” Penelope choked. “I thought he was away still on his travels.”
“Yes dear, he was.” Violet nodded. “But he always does try to make it back, however briefly, at this time of year. Oh, he will be so delighted to see you! I still remember how beautifully the two of you danced at your family’s ball.”
Penelope had to remember to breathe as she forced her face into a cursory smile. “Indeed.”
Benedict looked carefully at Penelope and then his mother. “Shall I go and get him now?”
Penelope tried to think of a means to escape. “Actually, I should quite like to be able to freshen-“
“Pen?”
Penelope shut her eyes. She had never wished so much that the ground beneath her would swallow her up. Was this to be her ninth circle of eternal punishment?
She turned. She had to. She had no other choice. “Colin.” She curtseyed.
He opened his mouth as though to speak but did not say anything.
“I invited Penelope here as a surprise for Eloise.” Violet announced, admitting to her guilt with a carefree smile.
“I only heard of our guest’s arrival this morning.” Benedict said pointedly.
“I only found out last night.” Penelope murmured. “Though I am very grateful for the invitation.” She added on quickly looking at the panic slowly starting to bloom across Violet Bridgerton’s face.
Benedict looked at Penelope pityingly, “I shall have someone show you to your quarters.”
In the guest chamber, Penelope struggled to breath. She walked to the tall window, pressed her cheek against the cold glass and gasped for air.
She tore off her jacket and her hair piece and threw them on a chair. The more she tried to breathe the more she felt like she was drowning, unable to lift her head.
There was a knock.
A lady’s maid entered, a girl Penelope had never seen before, carrying a large, flat box.
“Is everything alright, Miss?”
Penelope straightened, shakily. “Of course. I am just weary from my journey. Perhaps you could tell the dowager that I will not be able to join the family for dinner?”
The maid placed the box down and looked at Penelope sympathetically. “It has been mentioned among the household staff that the nature of your arrival here was perhaps…hasty? The Lady feels dreadful at how it was done. She would feel all the more so if you did not come to dinner.”
Penelope rubbed her eyes. “Of course, how careless of me not to consider such a thing.” She said, turning to her trunk to get out her one suitable dress. “Are we to meet in the drawing room?”
“Ah, miss?” The maid indicated to the box she had carried in. “You will not need your dress. The dowager had one delivered from London last week, pending your arrival. She did not know what your mother would pack you with and we are to be joined by the Duke and Duchess tonight.”
Penelope felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment. “How generous of her.”
“She means well.” The maid said softly. “Allow me to dress you in it. I have some paints I could use as well, rouge and the like. And if you would let me, I could smooth out those curls.”
Penelope looked at the woman who was so unlike any maid she had ever dealt with before. “I believe I should like that very much.”
“Say no more.”
As the sky darkened outside, Penelope followed the maid toward the drawing room.
She felt almost naked. The emerald green silk dress the dowager Bridgerton had had delivered for her hugged her waist and draped low.
Her hair fell silkily over her bare shoulders, tickling her back and when she had peered into the looking glass before leaving she had not recognised herself. The woman looking back was mature, edged with a dark allure.
It was almost too much to consider. She almost looked beautiful. How could she possibly dine with the Bridgertons appearing in such a manner?
As she moved into the candlelit corridor, something moved ahead.
“Benedict?”
The well-dressed second brother turned around. “Miss Penelope Featherington, I did not see you there.”
Penelope walked the rest of the way up to him, leaving the maid behind. There was only one thing she needed to know before she joined the family.“Does she yet know I am here?”
Benedict winced, causing Penelope’s heart to sink like a stone. “I do not believe Eloise will be dining with us tonight. She has taken ill it seems.”
“I see.” Penelope gulped, getting his meaning entirely. She paused. “Do you happen to have anything on you right now?”
“Sorry?”
“To drink? Do you have anything to drink?” Penelope often reached for wine at more stressful events but she did not want to leave the strength of whatever was being served that night up to chance. And it was no secret that the second Bridgerton brother was never far from a flask.
“In fact I do.” Benedict reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out exactly what she was looking for. He shot Penelope a curious glance as he handed it to her.
Penelope unscrewed it and took a sip. Brandy, if she had to guess.
“On the bright side, if Eloise will not speak to you, at least you will get to speak to Colin, the two of you are close are you not?”
Before answering Penelope took another, longer, sup, trying to think of an appropriate answer to that question. They were as close as two people who would never court? She handed the flask back, unable to think of anything.
“Has the party moved out into the corridor?”
They both turned to see Colin, heading in their direction.
“Pen?”
His voice sounded shocked. It took Penelope a moment to remember how unlike herself she appeared. “Your mother had this dress delivered. A great kindness in the wake of my family’s misfortune I should think.”
Colin’s eyes followed Benedict’s hands as he stashed his flask back inside his jacket before they roamed back over to Penelope and her new gown. “How is your family, Pen?” Curiously, his eyes did not lift up enough to meet her own.
Benedict cleared his throat. “I believe we can continue this discussion in the drawing room?”
The elder brother indicated for Penelope to walk ahead. As she did so she heard a smack and Colin muttering “ouch.”
The drawing room was filled with nothing but polite conversation. Penelope found herself being asked over and over again how her family was before the dinner bell rang.
As their guest, Penelope entered the hall behind the heavily pregnant duchess. “Oh Penelope, you can sit anywhere you would like to. Do not worry about formality. Colin is keen, no doubt, to tell you about his travels, he complained bitterly to us that you had not had time yet to respond to any of his letters.”
Penelope gaped, looking at the place down the end where Daphne pointed. Unsure what to say, she thanked the duchess and sat down at the low end, just as Violet and Francesca entered and sat nearby Daphne.
As Colin entered, he brightened considerably upon seeing Penelope sitting next to his seat.
“Your sister suggested I might sit at this end, she said you had stories of your travels to share?” Penelope explained.
His face crumpled into confusion as he lowered himself into the adjacent chair. “Have you not received any of my letters, Pen?”
“I have, I just have not had time yet to read them.” She lied. She had burned them.
She glanced at the head of the table to see if Violet would be wanting to steer the conversation elsewhere soon, but she instead seemed invested in her conversation with Daphne and Francesca.
“Of course, with everything going on. I am sorry to have left so soon. I feel somewhat responsible for everything.”
She looked back to find Colin gazing forlorn at the empty table in front of him.
“How so?” She asked.
“Pardon?”
“How is it that you are responsible?” Her wine was poured in front of her and she gratefully pressed the fine crystal to her lips.
“Well…I am the one who uncovered your cousin’s plan and allowed him to escape to the Americas without ensuring your family would be properly looked after.”
Penelope looked at Colin with such incredulity that she barely noticed her entree being placed before her.
“Believe me, Colin, no one is more grateful than I that you uncovered what cousin Jack had schemed up. But you neither foresaw his escape nor facilitated it. I do not believe your responsibility goes beyond alerting everyone to the matter.”
“Even so...”
“Think no more of it. I beg you. You owe neither me nor my family anything.”
As she watched him, Colin’s face seemed to crumple, as though he had been hoping to be held to some bizarre debt. She pushed harshly at any feelings she had inside, not wanting to feel anything but indifference. “So where have you just returned from?”
Colin looked down at his meal. “I had spent some time in the South of France, avoiding the conflicts where I might. But enough of that, what brought you to Aubrey Hall? My mother did not tell me to expect any guests, let alone…”
Penelope reached for her utensils, hoping if she began to eat he might talk more and ask questions of her less. “I must admit I was caught unaware. I believe she and my mother are attempting to facilitate some reconciliation between myself and Eloise. They will see before long it is not to be.”
“In earnest? The two of you have always been so close. I could not imagine anything that would split the two of you apart for good.”
“Believe me, even if I were to tell you, you would not believe me.” Penelope made a small noise of delight as she took her first bite of the sizzling roast, the flavours bursting on her starved tongue.
She forgot how hungry she had allowed herself to become. “This is remarkable.” She murmured as she took another morsel.
“I am sure I could tell our cooks to um…” Colin trailed off as Penelope took another slow bite, savouring the velvet of the gravy. She hummed with delight.
“Do not let him bore you with his stories, Penelope!” Violet called down. “Colin dear, do ask her what her plans are for the season.”
Looking back up at Colin Penelope almost laughed at his stunned expression.
“I must apologise for my mother, it seems she has forgotten we have guests among us.” He told her.
“Surely you do not count the duke and duchess as your guests, they are family, are they not?”
“ You , are our guest, Penelope.”
Penelope giggled. “I do not count.” She said, because of course she did not. How many sibling squabbles and broken etiquette had she witnessed throughout the years?
“Of course you do.”
“Well trust I will not tell a soul of your bad behaviour. It will not be anything I have not seen before after all.”
Penelope finished her wine and held her glass aloft for another. her cheeks felt burning hot and her vision teetered somewhat. She could also feel his eyes burning into her turned neck, waiting for her to look back. A younger version of herself would have acquiesced to that burning gaze and would have found herself helplessly lost in it. She refused to look back now. To see what would never be there.
“Did something happen before the end of the season, Pen, before your squabble with Eloise?”
Penelope felt her false cheeriness drop somewhat. Could he truly sense it? Under all her polite smiles and false jests? The ocean of screaming, undying pain. If he could feel that now, could he also feel what used to be there? Had he known this whole time?
She forced herself to look back at him, a smile fit for an actress across her lips. “Everything is well, Colin. I have simply found myself needing to grow up. That is all.”
She could see that he tried to smile back at her, “I must ask how you managed it. I feel sometimes the harder I try to grow the more stuck I become.”
Her stomach twisted with sympathy for him, “I suppose I found the change thrust upon me.”
“And what made you accept it?” He seemed to be leaning ever closer toward her.
She knew the answer. Eloise.
“It matters not.” She felt tears threatening to breach her eyes. She gripped her utensils until the metal dug deep into her palms. “Be grateful nothing has forced you to mature before your time, Colin.”
“Miss Penelope, did you or did you not say you could ride?” Benedict asked, bursting into their tense conversation.
“I know a little.” Penelope replied, pushing down her emotions with a smile. Turning away once again from Colin.
“Then you must join us tomorrow up to our late father’s cabin. There is an urgent repair to be made. What say you?”
“How could I refuse?”
Penelope woke the next morning with a dry mouth and painful head.
The same maid from the day before came with a blue day dress and did her best to revive her face and hair.
“The dowager has finally convinced Miss Eloise to join the family for breakfast.”
Penelope suppressed a groan as she slid her arms into the sleeves.
“Does she look well?”
The only response was silence.
Once again, Penelope found herself pushed into the drawing room. Gone was the dim candlelight from the night before and in its place was the cool shine of a Winter’s sun streamed through the high windows. A heavy silence hung in the air.
The duke and duchess tried to include her in some conversation about boxing but Penelope could only half listen.
Unfortunately, it could not be prevented and Violet finally arrived with a visibly reluctant Eloise who entered behind her jaw clenched and eyes flashing.
Penelope had not seen Eloise since that night in her bed chamber when everything had come out. Where Eloise had learnt that Penelope had taken their trust and pushed it out into the world. Where every ugly truth had been spat between them.
Penelope curtseyed. Heart beating like a war drum in her chest.
Violet nudged Eloise who did not budge.
Everyone around the room shared nervous glances.
“Perhaps you could go in with Penelope, dear, the two of you could sit together?”
“I will not.” Eloise said, eyes burning.
“Oh go on-“ Violet gave off a nervous peel of laughter as she went to push her daughter toward Penelope.
Penelope shut her eyes. She knew how Eloise hated to be pushed.
“Do not touch me! I cannot do this! Why are you here?!” She demanded of Penelope.
Penelope opened her eyes to see only hurt glaring back.
“You should not have come!”
“Eloise!” Both Violet and her eldest daughter gasped.
“I am sorry, Eloise.” Penelope said shakily.
“Do not speak to me! Do not even look at me! I wish only for you to leave.”
“I will.” Penelope felt her heart shatter. She had known this would happen. She had known but had not been able to do anything to stop it.
“Enough!” Everyone looked in surprise as Colin strode into the midst of it all. “Never did I expect such vile improprieties from you, Eloise. Penelope is our guest and should be treated as such.”
“She is no guest of mine.” Eloise said darkly.
“Eloise…” the duchess sighed.
“You should return to your chambers, Eloise.” Violet interrupted.
Eloise glared at every one of them before rounding on Penelope, “happy?” She asked before stomping out of the room.
Violet had paled with mortification. “Penelope, I am so sorry-“
“-I am afraid I am not feeling well, might I…?”
“Of course.”
Tears streaming down her face, Penelope also left to sit alone in her room.
Not an hour later, a platter of breakfast foods was brought in along with a note in Colin’s slanted penmanship.
Pen,
Mother has agreed you must be sent home as soon as the coming storm has passed. She is devastated at Eloise’s reaction and agrees nothing you could have done should warrant such improper treatment.
Do not stay locked in your room the rest of the day. The rest of us have decided to continue on with our ride before it begins to snow. Join us.
It would break my heart if you returned to London with only sour memories of my family.
Colin
Penelope sighed. She had, in fact, brought a simple riding habit, though it had been constructed two years prior and was now quite tight. She could wear it for a short ride.
In truth, she did not want to go out riding but she did not want to stay in the same house as Eloise, unable to go anywhere without feeling as though she were trespassing.
Any alternative was better.
Penelope exited into the gardens to the sound of hushed arguing.
“…Penelope.” Colin sounded exasperated as he finished saying something which included her name.
“Ah, here she is now.” Benedict replied. Only the two of them stood outside and of the two of them, only Colin was dressed for riding.
“Is something the matter?” Penelope asked, securing her gloves against the sudden bite in the gusty air.
“As it happens, Francesca is unwell, therefore she is to stay behind with Daphne, who the Duke must stay behind with as she is so near to giving birth. That would just leave just the two of us and Benedict, only now he says he will not come.” Colin turned back to Benedict with a glare and a huff of fraternal annoyance.
“As I was telling you, the storm clouds are coming in too quickly. And besides, Penelope will not be joining us without a chaperone, so the event is cancelled and the point is moot.”
“Why would I need a chaperone?” Penelope asked simply.
Both looked at her.
The high points of Colin’s cheeks bloomed crimson.
“We are not to go far with the storm coming in, Colin and I have known each other our whole lives and it is not as though either of us is partial to the matter of courting.”
The two brothers shared a glance. “Well, is that true, Colin? Are you so disinterested in Courting Penelope Featherington that the two of you could ride alone together without scandal?” There was a strange crinkle to the older brother’s eyes.
Colin gaped. “I do hope, Benedict, that you are not attempting to insinuate anything untoward. I shall ride with Penelope, and as we will not go far, and I am a perfect gentleman, there will be no talk of scandal.”
“So be it then. There is no need for me to change to join you.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
“Good.”
“Enjoy your lovely, scandal-free ride.”
Both turned to Penelope.
“I shall appreciate anything that takes me far from the events of this morning.” She said,
Two large horses were brought around and Penelope was helped onto a chestnut mare by a pimply stablehand.
“Eurydice here is quite infatuated with mister Bridgerton’s mount, just hold on and she will follow him wherever he goes.” The stable hand explained as Penelope situated herself.
Poor thing. Penelope thought to herself as she noticed her mare looking longingly in the direction of Colin.
“What is his name then? Colin’s horse?” She asked. With her modest wealth of knowledge on Greek mythology she expected the boy to say Orpheus.
“Hades.” He said with a knowing smile.
Penelope looked back at the glossy black beast Colin was petting before he swung himself onto its back in one fluid motion. “Shall we be off?” He asked her.
As soon as he nudged Hades into a walk, Eurydice immediately followed. “It seems I do not have a choice.” Penelope quipped in return.
She did not look back at the stable hands as they approached the dark edge of the woods surrounding the country property.
They built up to a trot as they broke through the tree line, finding themselves quickly sheltered from the blowing wind as the space between the thick trunks reduced.
“How far would you like to go?” Colin asked her, tossing a look over his shoulder.
“As far as we can.” She replied. “I am in no rush to return. I am yet to think of an excuse to avoid dinner tonight. Maybe a case of frostbite will prove itself useful?”
Colin laughed. “Whilst I am sure you would find the blizzard less icy than my dear sister, we shall return long before it hits. Although…”
“Although?”
“If we can keep pace, my father’s cabin is up a ways. We will not be able to complete the repair, just the two of us, but you might be able to see it.”
“Let us log along then.” She smiled. “That was a-“
“A cabin joke!” Colin laughed brightly. “Do you think you could take a brisker pace?”
“I can.”
Colin clicked his tongue and urged Hades and soon they were both moving swiftly, Penelope holding tight as she was bounced in her saddle.
“She does follow him well.” Penelope called out.
“Of course, she is in love.” Colin responded. “Though, she is such a slow old thing.”
“She is not too slow for me.” Penelope shouted back.
“Well, this is not nearly as fast as Hades can go.”
“Show me!” Penelope goaded, a strange thrill shooting through her.
Colin hesitated and then urged his stallion into a faster gallop, stripping away from Penelope and her mare.
“Come on.” She urged Eurydice, digging her heels into the mare’s sensitive joints. “Show him you are no slow old thing.” She gripped her reins.
Penelope found herself lifted quite out of her seat as her horse hit a pace she had not been expecting, thundering along the trail.
“On your right!” Penelope shrieked as they came upon the other two.
Colin whooped as he and his horse were overtaken.
“Well done.” He called, as they slowed down.
Eurydice, the lovesick fool, noticed she was leaving her love behind and halted as she waited for Hades to lumber up.
“I think she took offence to you calling her slow.” Penelope laughed.
“Yes, well I shall not be making that mistake again. Not with you in the saddle at least. Look, we are here.”
Penelope looked and through the treetops a cabin’s roof did peer through. Excitement prickled at her for having made it.
“Oh.” She pointed out to Colin as an icy fleck of snow dropped down. It landed on her finger.
Colin’s expression fell.
“Do you think we should turn back?” She asked him.
“I am not sure.” He said. “I did not expect it to fall so soon.”
Just as he said it they both looked up as more snow began to rain on them, rapidly picking up motion.
“We could try to outrun it.”
“It is too great a risk. It would be safer to seek shelter.”
Penelope followed his gaze to the cabin. “Is it even habitable?”
“Of course. My family finds their way up here often. It is only…we would be alone.”
“It is of no concern to me. Being alone with you should be no different than you being alone with one of your sisters.”
“Only you are nothing like my sister, Pen.” He said seriously, a look of panic crossing his face. “Maybe I could seek shelter with the horses in the woodshed and you could wait inside.”
“You would honestly consider freezing to death rather than risk being alone with me?” Her mind whirred, trying to connect the dots of his sudden concern. “Do you think I would try to twist this situation into some sort of arrangement for myself?”
“You would have every right to.”
The ground beneath them was being quickly blanketed as the wind whipped in spirals, Penelope only noticed the sensation of a knife twisting inside her, however.
“I would never try to marry you Colin.” She said forcefully. Then, because he still looked worried she added, “I know you desire a love match. I would not take that away from you.”
He only continued to watch the snowfall. “We really should get inside.”
Colin led the way, helping Penelope dismount in haste. “Let yourself in, I will take care of the horses.
As she entered the small, dark space Penelope decided to make herself useful, locating a large stack of firewood and building a sizable fire in the hearth, using the matches she found on the mantle.
“How…?”
Colin’s voice came from the doorway some time later. The storm had howled brutally when he had opened it and Penelope had begun to wonder if they’d even be able to return before nightfall.
“Last year we found ourselves without most of the staff we were used to. I learnt to do many things for myself.” She explained as she added another log to the flames, holding her hands up to the dancing fire when the sparks had settled.
“I had no idea things were so bad. Was that scoundrel Jack not even looking after you at all?”
“Oh no.” Penelope corrected. “Things got better with cousin Jack. We had no money long before he arrived.”
Colin shifted uncomfortably. “How did I never notice?”
“Were you supposed to notice?” She did not look back at him, only watching how the logs glowed from within, shining bright through their squared cracks, filling the room with an ancestral scent of charred wood.
“You never told me in any of your letters.”
“Should I have?”
“I told you a great many things about my insecurities and dreams.”
“I never asked you to.”
He approached her sharply, stopping beside her perch upon her stool. “Have I done something to offend you?”
“You have done nothing for which I should be offended.” She said carefully.
“But you are offended?”
“I am no longer offended by anything.”
“So you were offended?”
“Was. Meaning I am not now. I realised there was nothing to be offended by in what you said.”
“Said? I said something?”
“Did you?”
“I did? If I said something that hurt you…I cannot think…”
She wanted to tell him not to think. To forget it all. She looked up at him, finding his face creased in thought.
“You are acting so differently towards me, Pen, and I cannot put my finger on it. You still look at me, you still smile and laugh, we speak, we joke but everything feels so unsettled and all for something I said, please, tell me what I said.”
Penelope felt sick. The wind outside was wailing like a titan burst free from Tartarus. The sides of the cabin creaked warily at its battering. He was so close to figuring her all out. Why she was acting differently and why his words had stung her. How pathetic she was to be hurt by a truth so obvious to everyone else. “It was just a joke you made.” She said softly. “I think it funny now. Quite obvious really. I think at the time I was only shocked I-“
“What was it, Pen? What did I say?” He was not smiling. He remained serious, panicked, almost.
“You were just laughing with your friends…about me.”
Colin’s colour drained from his face. Then it was like the gates had opened.
“You said you would never dream of courting me, not even in your wildest fantasies. I mean, I am sure you are not the only one who holds such a sentiment, I have had no gentlemen callers, I should not have allowed myself to be shocked, it was quite childish really and-“
Penelope paused, Colin looked like he might…cry?
“I remember now.” He breathed. “I cannot give an excuse. What I said that night was vile. My whole behaviour was vile.”
Penelope let out a sigh. “Colin, I forgive you. It was only a jest.”
“It was!” He insisted. “I only wished for the other gentlemen to follow me to Mondrich’s I had a debt to pay that night.”
Penelope sat back, “and for them to follow you they needed to see you were not interested in someone like me.” She had not expected the words spoken aloud to crush down on her heart so, it was all a matter of fact. Nothing she could ever hold against him.
“No.” Colin said, horrified. “No. I-“
“-it is alright, Colin. I know very well how the ton sees me.”
“The ton does not see you as you truly are.”
“No they do not. The only one to truly saw that was Eloise and look how she regards me.” Penelope said bitterly.
Colin sat down as well to look at her. “I see you for who you truly are.” He told her softly.
Penelope let out a cold laugh. “How do you see me?” She asked, curious of who he thought the true her was.
“I see you are a faithful friend. Loyal and true. You never lie. You are good…You listen to your mother.”
Penelope felt a thread of sanity snap away inside her, she listened as he listed the traits of someone she had never met before.
“You do not know me at all.” She said, bitter with disappointment.
“Is this not the girl who wrote to me on my last tour? The girl who I have watched play with my younger siblings for longer than I can remember?”
“And am I now still a girl Colin?”
“No…of course not.”
“Do you know why Eloise will not speak to me?” Penelope asked, her voice low and calm.
Colin hesitated. “I would like to know.”
“Eloise, trusted me, she thought me a faithful friend just like you did. I let her tell me all about her Whistledown obsession, I listened to all her theories and encouraged her to look in places where she would never find her answer. Only, Eloise is clever, she did get close, too close. She did find Whistledown’s printer-“
“-how?”
“Colin, who knew that Eloise was going to those rallies?”
His expression shifted to one of realisation. “Was it you who told Whistledown? Do you know who she is?”
Penelope shook her head frustrated that he still did not get it. “Who knew of Marina’s plans to seduce you? That the two of you were leaving for Gretna Green? Why did Whistledown cease writing after the pamphlet that hurt Eloise beyond repair? Colin, I know you are clever, you just do not wish to see it.”
He shook his head, mouth in a straight line.
“I am not faithful. I am not trustworthy. I lie. I sneak. My mother knows nothing of what I am doing. I put my writing above everything, even my closest friend and I cannot even say I am sorry for it.” Penelope shrugged. “So do not fret over saying you would never court me, for I have done much worse as Lady Whistledown.”
Colin remained silent, he rubbed his face.
“You do not believe me?”
“No, I believe you.” He replied, looking into the fire. “You are a sharp wit and write better than anyone else. You do see everything. More than I ever noticed. I just thought you were good…”
“I am sorry to disappoint.”
“I am not disappointed.”
A sudden shock thrummed through Penelope from her head to her toes. How could he not be disappointed? She was the beast with the pen?
“I thought you found me vitriolic? Had I not rushed to print my gossip, your life would be different.”
“My life would be over without your gossip.” He said firmly. “You ruined your family for me, you ruined your friendship with El…why? I know you had a reason.”
“The Queen had threatened her, she had mistaken her as Whistledown because of her time at the printer.” Penelope swallowed. She had expected anything else but this.
“What else do I not know about you?” He seemed to be shifting closer somehow.
She paused, should she answer him? Was there any point keeping any secret from him when he knew the one that could destroy her most assuredly?
“I never stay home at night. I used to make deliveries to my printer in person but even after I found other means to do so I found I quite liked hiring carriages to roam London.”
Colin laughed in surprise, “have you no self preservation?”
Penelope shook her head. “You have your travels, Colin. I just have London. Can you not imagine what it is like to be caged? Never able to leave? To be the brightest dressed in the room and for no one to see you? To know that your only fate is to become your mother’s caretaker. I hate my mother, Colin.”
He laughed again. “That does sound terrible. Do you not have some of your own money, being Whistledown?”
“I do, but what could I possibly do with it? I would be found out if I began to buy things. Of course, I could always stow away for some far off land? Disappear in the night without a word? How long do you think it would take for anyone to notice?”
“I would notice.”
“No you would be traipsing across the continent without a care in your heart. You would not know I had even gone until you returned.”
“Would you disappear like that?” His eyes searched hers. She found she could only whisper in return.
“I might have to. It might be the only way I can bear to live.”
“Would you take me with you?”
Penelope’s heart stuttered. “You would miss your family.”
“I would miss you more.”
She held his gaze long enough that a shudder rolled down her spine, forcing her to look away. He cleared his throat.
“How long might the storm go on?” She asked, there was nothing outside the window but a wall of white. “Will the horses live?”
“The horses are well sheltered with blankets and water. There’s nothing more I can do for them. The storm could last another hour, it could last all night.”
Her stomach dropped. “So we might not be able to return until the morning?”
“The morning if we are lucky, the snow could block us in for longer if it falls too thickly.”
“Could we die up here?”
Colin laughed. “I would not allow such a thing to happen. I am more worried about your reputation.”
Penelope shrugged. “What of my reputation? I have no prospects and if I am to leave London then I could ruin myself all I like.”
Colin gave a sharp intake of breath.
“I did not mean to scandalise you. I speak only in jest. No one in your family will care how long we stay alone up here, they know you would never take liberties with me.” Penelope kept her eyes fixed on the storm.
“That is not true, you know.”
Her head shot back around to look at him.
“Many in my family think I would take liberties with you. Benedict will not leave it alone that he thinks I am jealous that you shared his flask and my mother…well she thinks…you would laugh to hear what she thinks.”
Penelope was not laughing.
Colin inched even closer to her. “Rest assured, I would not take liberties with you alone up here. I am a gentleman.”
Penelope felt her shoulders fall. Was she feeling disappointment? She was no wanton, what had come over her?
“I know, Colin.” She said with a forced smile. “I trust you. Is there by chance a bed chamber here I might withdraw to?”
Colin nodded. The Cabin was equipped and furnished with a simple room for sleeping, there was a second but it was the part of the cabin in need of repairs since the previous storm had hit.
Colin made quick work of the furniture coverings and left Penelope in peace.
“If the storm dies I shall take my chance to draw water from the well.” He told her from the door. “ Is there anything else I can get you?”
She could see for herself that the room had a chamber pot but there was much else she needed. “Are there clothes kept here for sleeping?”
“No I cannot say there are, but if you would like I could spare you my shirt?”
What would he wear? And where could he sleep?
Panic began to twist inside. “Is there anything I might use to clean myself? A solution for my mouth? Soap and a bowl of water?” Could she lay in a strange bed dirty from the ride here and find sleep?
“There is a bath!” His voice rang excitedly. “I shall bring it down to the fire and I am sure I could fill it adequately. Would that aid your comfort, Pen?”
Penelope inhaled, biting back the tears that threatened to spill. “It would.” She said shakily. “Now I am afraid I need to be alone with my thoughts for the time being.”
Colin softly bid her rest as he left back downstairs.
Penelope looked out at the storm and wondered how she had got herself here.
The wailing winds did not die until it was much too late to attempt a return, sealing their fate.
She had found a small looking glass in a drawer and upon removing her too tight jacket and undoing her pinned hair she did her best to make herself appear kempt and not unruly.
A soft knocking sounded at her door, drawing her out.
“Forgive my appearance, I could not bear the restriction any longer.” She said.
“You look ever the Lady, Pen.” Colin said, smiling. He was still fully dressed.
She followed him downstairs where the fire roared fiercer than before in front of a large copper tub, half filled and a pot of water boiling over the now built up flames.
“There is a cup of tea for you, Pen, drinking it shall give me just enough time to finish working here.”
“You have done so much for me, Colin, I should have come down to help you.”
“Please, I wish to do all of this. I feel I am at fault for our being here.”
Penelope found the steaming mug and brought it to her face, “thank you, Colin.” She breathed. “I cannot tell you the comfort this has brought me. I must admit I cannot sleep without bathing in the best of circumstances.”
Colin beamed, tipping the now boiling pot into the tub before filling it again with a nearby bucket.
Penelope sipped her tea, watching. He had paused to finally remove his riding jacket and boots, rolling the sleeves of his shirt to above his elbow, the lines between his muscles cutting deep as he hung the pot back over the fire. Penelope looked quickly back at her teacup. She had never before looked so closely at his body. She supposed he had never before shown so much of it.
“I will wait upstairs while you bathe.” He told her.
“Would you not freeze?”
The air in the room had bit relentlessly at her before she had come down and the night would only grow colder still.
“I can bear it.”
“Really? I do not mind.”
For some reason he stiffened, his cheeks blooming crimson. “Your water will grow cold.”
“I really do not mind if you wish to keep yourself warm down here. I have never bathed alone before and I know you will not look.”
He stared at her and she felt her face begin to burn under his gaze. Did he think her a wonton? Fast? Propositioning him to see her in a state of undress. She had only meant to look out for his comfort. She trusted him completely.
“If you do not wa-“
“Yes.”
“What?”
His eyes were darker than she had ever seen them as his stare pierced her. “I would very much like to stay down here while you bathe, Penelope.”
She let out a breath she did not know she had been holding.
He moved over to the fire where he sat with his back facing the room.
Penelope took a few tentative steps to the tub.
“F-forgive me if I take a while to undress.” She called over to him. “I have not often done this without the help of a maid, certainly not riding clothes.”
She tried to keep her voice light, a laugh tremoring her words. But they vanished in the air between them. Something had shifted, something dangerous.
Without turning, Colin picked up his tea and swallowed the warm liquid in a few quick gulps before he sat it back on the floor by his feet. He let out a breath, “would you like me to help you?”
“W-what?”
“Would you like me to help you get out of your riding clothes? You said you trust me, do you not?”
Would he be able to not look? Penelope fiddled with the buckles holding up her thick skirt. It was possible for her to do it with a bit of manoeuvring as well as trial and error. “Your help would be appreciated.” She admitted aloud.
Colin stood in one fluid motion, his strides devouring the ground between them until he stood not an inch behind her, towering over her, inspecting the many buckles and buttons holding together her riding habit.
“Do you trust me?” He asked again, fingers ghosting over her shoulders to the buttons at her back.”
She nodded.
Penelope stood deathly still as each tug of his fingers released the material from encircling her upper body. He paused, pushing the tumble of her hair out of the way, bringing it in front of her shoulders with a swipe of his hands. The tip of one of his fingers found the skin at the back of her neck. Penelope gasped.
“Apologies.” He whispered, before quickly doing away with the bottom few buttons. “Shall I unlace it for you?” She felt his featherlight touch against the back of her stays.
He had lowered his head enough that his question hit the skin behind her ear, making her shudder.
“If you could.” She said quietly.
In answer, a gentle tugging pulled between her shoulder blades, as the stiff material built to hold her breasts high pulled away. With a start, Penelope clutched the material of her dress and undergarment to her front.
“It is alright.” Colin’s voice soothed over her. “I will not look, remember?” But instead of calming her his reassurance stoked at something heated.
She felt the touch of his hand on her arm and slowly her grip was pulled away from the clothing she clung to, allowing everything to fall unceremoniously to her feet. Penelope shivered at the touch of night air, the fire not enough to completely chase out the biting chill outside.
She had not noticed his hands move to her hips until the tie of her petticoat loosened at her waist. She sucked in a breath. His fingers paused before letting go. A silent question if he should continue, she said nothing and the skirt fell.
“Are you alright?” He asked, barely a whisper, his hands rising to sit softly on her shoulders.
“Is there a reason for me not to be?” She could not force herself to speak above a whisper.
“That does not answer me, Pen. I can return upstairs, if that is what you wish.”
“I wish for you to remain.” She swallowed thickly. “I know you will not look.”
“Indeed.”
Even as he agreed she felt the buttons of his shirt meet the bare skin of her back, his lip lowering to the upper shell of her ear. “The dreadful style of your mother may do its part to hide you, Pen, but even those awful dresses have not concealed that you are a woman. I am aware of what you are.”
Penelope shuddered.
Colin’s hands shifted, drawing down her shoulders, touching every centimetre of skin down to her hip, following the dip in and out. She heard him inhale and exhale slowly. “The whole dinner I watched you.” He said, his voice hoarse as he turned his lips once more against her ear, “I was jealous when I saw you with Benedict. I wish it had been my flask you had asked for. I would have pressed it against your lips and watched you drink my brandy.”
Penelope shifted, twisting to see where he was looking and if he meant any of what he was saying. His grip on her hardened, holding her in place.
“When you were sitting beside me at dinner, I noticed you have a freckle on the dip of your right shoulder. All I could think about was what it felt like to press my tongue against it.”
Penelope steadied her breath, the spot in question coming to her attention with a vibrating energy.
“You could taste it now if you would like to.” Her own voice rang in her ears. Why on Earth had she said that?
She had not expected to make Colin let out a moan but he did before dropping his mouth and letting his lips brush against the dip of her shoulder. Penelope gasped as the wet of his tongue pushed against her skin. Her heart pulsed heavy between her legs and her veins buzzed with lightning. He never wanted to court her. But she realised she would accept whatever this was greedily.
Her hand came up and thread into the curls of his hair as he bent over her shoulder, holding him there.
He moaned again and she inhaled sharply as the sensitive skin at her neck was pulled into his mouth, a small cry escaping her lips.
Stronger than her grip, Colin pulled back. Panting. “Your water is growing cold.” He told her.
Penelope felt annoyed that it was all over. He simply wanted to touch her with his tongue and discard the event without even a kiss? So be it. She would not beg him to stay. She reached to untie her draws. “Are you not to return over there?” She asked, releasing the ribbon from its knot.
“Do you no longer trust me not to look?”
She huffed. As tall as he was, she was sure he had already looked at some of her. So she lifted one knee and then the other, first shimmying from her draws before slowly dragging away each stocking.
“Will you help me in then?”
Without a word his fingers gripped hers as she stepped over the edge and into the steaming water, sighing as she sank up to her nose.
Colin cleared his throat. “There is a bar of soap.”
Penelope reached out and took it, dipping it into the water to lather it into a wash of foam.
Did he still watch her? Slowly she turned to see if he was looking. He stood in the darkness, eyes fixed on hers. Under his stare she felt her nipples pebble tightly. She sank back down further.
He moved, circling closer to the tub.
Penelope drew her legs closer to her body. “Are you no longer pretending you are not watching me?” She asked him.
“I will remain a gentleman if you say as such.” He told her. “Tell me to return upstairs and I will.”
“I fear I have nothing pleasing to look at.” She said softly.
“I would beg to differ.”
“I know there is nothing fashionable about my shape.” She clung to her legs tighter, trying to make herself as small as she felt.
“The ton’s fashion has no bearing on what draws out a man’s desire.” He paused, standing somewhere behind her, where she could only hear him. “Know that it is my strongest desire to stay.”
His words carried a heaviness of honesty that moved over her, slowly, she let go of her legs, reaching for the bar of pressed soap.
She felt him approaching from behind. Something inside her clenched around what was not there.
“Do you wish to help with this as well?” She asked softl.
His breathing paused, “you know I would not want to simply wash you, Pen.”
Her body pulsed, eager to be led to ruin by his willing hands. The ache intensified between her legs, warm and thrumming.
“I do not mind.” She breathed, lifting the soap to hold it out to him.
His large hand enveloped hers, taking the pressed bar before dipping it into the water and bringing it to her stomach. She inhaled deeply, holding it as she listened to his own warm breath hit the spot behind her ear.
“Do not hold your breath.” His voice rumbled. His hand beginning to make small circles above her belly button, leaving a trail of bubbles in its wake. “Relax as I touch you.”
Penelope let out a shaky breath, pressing back against the wall of the tub. Watching his slow moving hand rise and fall with her breathing.
“Is it okay that I look at you now?” He asked softly.
Immediately her skin felt hot as she imagined his eyes raking over her. Her hardened nipples peeked out of the water, the soap did not yet conceal the patch of curls at the apex of her thighs. “Yes.” She replied, barely recognising her own voice.
His circles moved slowly up, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as the tops of his knuckles began to brush the dipping curve of her lower breasts. She gasped as his hand slipped up between them, bringing the soap almost to her throat before arcing down again.
“Where am I allowed to touch you, Pen?” His voice came rough and heavy with strained control.
Penelope needed him to touch her everywhere. The beating heart between her legs felt tight and heavy all at once, her breasts ached to feel his hand, anything, she had not ever thought she could feel like this. His eyes and hands on her had brought out a fire and she needed him to put it out. Not caring about anything more than having him continue she arched her back enough to push her breasts completely out of the water, she looked over her shoulder until her eyes met his, dark and surprised, his lips parted and a hair’s width from hers. “You may touch me everywhere, Colin.” She said with burning honesty.
Without warning he leant forward, pressing his mouth down on hers as the soap released from his fingers, just as she felt the slip of his tongue his thumb swiped a circle around one of her nipples, pulling a gasp from her mouth and into his.
He groaned deep and quiet as their kiss continued and his hand began to squeeze her, rolling her hard, peaked nipple through his soap slicked fingers. Penelope clenched her thighs, eyes closing and rolling back as she pushing against his hand, needing more.
He tore away, panting as he searched her eyes for something. Her hands had come up to hold the back of his neck and she looked back at him with impatience as she clung to him.
“Spread your pretty legs for me Pen.” He breathed.
The words shot through her. Never had she expected to see a side of Colin so ungentlemanly. Slowly, she lifted her knees. Her heart melting into her belly as she realised just how much she trusted him. Resting her feet on the edges with a curl of her toes.
Colin let his soap covered hand leave her breasts, to dip under the water. She bit down on a moan as his fingers stroked a line down her inner thigh, dipping close but not there, where she ached to be touched.
“Do you like how I touch you, Pen?” He whispered, face pressed to her neck.
Penelope nodded, feeling his fingers trace small, tantalising circles.
“Do you wish me to stop here?”
She shook her head.
Colin inhaled, as though surprised by her answer.
“Are you quite certain?” He asked, his voice sounding different, an almost tremor to it.
“Please?” She said, not meaning for her voice to sound so wracked with desperation.
His hand finally slipped between her legs, she moaned, lifting her hips wanting his fingers to move down, wanting more.
He complied, the blunt tips finding her centre, following the line of her most intimate area. She could not help but arch against him, the shock of his touch, the thrill it sent through her, the beginning bloom of relief, the promise of more. His mouth found hers again as he kissed her with urgency, pulling small whimpers from her as he slowly began to rock his hand against her.
He learned quickly, soon moving his touch in small concentrated movements around her aching bud, eliciting gasps from her. She felt all control galloping away, lost between the feel of his teeth dragging against her lips, his tongue tracing a line from her ear down her neck and his hand, moving between her legs. His other hand came back to her breast, rolling her nipple once more between his thumb and finger. It was all overwhelming in and of itself, but this was Colin behaving so illicitly with her, his large hands she watched, his uneven breath in her ear.
Everything broke all at once. An overwhelming and unexpected surge of relief cascaded through her body, giving way to tremors. She was vaguely aware that she had cried out his name as she struggled to catch her breath. Feeling him pepper small kisses to her neck.
Shakily, she pulled away, sitting forward so she could turn to look at him. His eyes searched her face, silently checking if she was alright.
The heavy air of clarity began to settle between them. A silken acknowledgement of what they had just done.
“I should leave you to your privacy.” He said softly.
“Wait.” Panic rose inside her. She could not let him simply withdraw.
“I have nothing to wear…you said…your shirt?”
He nodded and stood. She watched, trying to think of what to say as he released each button, not looking at her as he revealed a most exquisite torso. He looked up to catch her gaze traversing his body.
“Oh.” She breathed.
“I admit I strengthened myself by the work I completed in the Viennese monastery and I was allowed to help the crew on my journey home…” he trailed off as Penelope continued to gaze at him.
Colin took a deep breath, holding the shirt out like a valet. Penelope hesitated before rising shakily to her feet from the now tepid water, flushing at the feel of streams cascading off her bare body, the cold of the room wrapping around her as she stepped out. With her teeth chattering she slid her still wet arms into the sleeves and wrapped it, the thin material sticking diaphanously around her shivering body. Looking down she was dismayed to see the water from her body quickly bleeding the fabric transparent and cold. She looked back up to see Colin’s dark gaze bearing down on her, his eyes taking over his shirt soaked and wrapped tightly around her like the flag of a conqueror. “You will freeze.” He told her with a gulp.
“I can stand by the fire.” She told him, “until I dry?”
“Pen…” he took her hand, stopping her from stepping closer to the flames. “There is something I wish to do before I go.”
“Anything, Colin.”
“I wish to kiss you once more. Properly. I am sorry I did not kiss you more…before.”
He stepped closer and she felt diminutive under his towering height, looking up. She yearned to kiss him again, for this to not be over and if he was letting her she would take it.
His lips came down to touch hers gentle, warm. Not restrained by the wall of the tub between them she found herself unable to hold back, taking this as the last time he would allow such intimacy between them, she wrapped her arms around his neck, sliding her mouth open, tasting the earthy tea he’d drunk before, feeling his large hands against her back, pulling her against his front. She wanted to drown in him, wanted more, she tried to pull him impossibly closer, moaning as the push of his tongue against hers sent waves of pleasure anew to lace down to her toes. She was the one who had to pull back first, gasping for air. She immediately regretted it, her eyes opening to see his full flushed lips parted, the swallow bobbing in his neck. Felt him pulling further away.
I have compromised you grievously tonight.” He said. Voice horse and heavy.
“I did not mean to tempt you.” She said softly, feeling herself shrinking back. “It need not signify anything…more.” Everything had just flowed so naturally, she had felt so comfortable to bare herself to him. Should she have fought to protect her virtue more, especially if this hadn’t been what Colin wanted.
He groaned and pulled her back to him, resting his chin upon her head. “I know.” He breathed. “I know. You have never meant to. But you do. And it does signify. It does.”
She tried to look up at him to ask what he meant but he held her too closely. “I should try harder to be the gentleman I say that I am. I told you that I could be trusted bringing you here but have broken every word. There are things I have left you innocent of. I should leave you alone and think no more of it.”
“I do not wish you to.”
“do not say that.”
“Why not?”
“Because, I need you to understand, I want to sink into you and never let you go. I beg of you to tell me to keep my word to you.”
Her heart flipped at his description. She did not know much about the act, only what she had pieced together through gossip and a wayward poem. Now it all became clear as she felt him hard and pressed against her hip.
She wrestled away enough to look at him, standing on her tiptoes to whisper against his lips, “And I beg of you Colin, please do whatever it is you wish to do to me.”
A feral groan ripped from Colin as he pulled her forward to devour her mouth. Penelope could not even gasp as his fingers bit into her flesh dragging her body against the hard line of him as he rolled his hips forward. She moaned in surprise at the illicit shock of feeling him so large and insistent. He only pulled back to suck at her neck, drawing out pleasure and pain, she yelped as she felt the thrilling rake of his teeth on her shoulder, back on her neck, up to her lips. She let her fingers cling to the hair on the back of his head, holding on as she tried to memorise him with her tongue.
Without warning he lifted her. With a gasp she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. “I will not drop you.” He whispered into the shell of her ear.
She was sure he would put her down as he got to the first step but to her astonishment he lifted her with him as he ascended to the bedroom.
Penelope only registered that the storm outside was raging anew when they entered the dark room, the window rattling like a prisoner at his bars. Catching a glimpse of the blackness and the pummelling dark grey of snowdrops as he said, “No one will come looking for us tonight.” and placed her on the bed.
The hellish light from the fire downstairs lit the room enough that she could watch him as he unlaced the front of his britches.
Penelope could not help but worry at her bottom lip, watching him reveal all of himself to her. As the fabric fell away from his hips she revelled at the sight of it, excited to see such a secret part of him. Colin bent to free both his legs, standing up as bare as Michaelangelo’s David.
Penelope inhaled. Colin caught her eye. “You as well?” He asked. Gently he pulled his damp shirt away from her body, dropping it to the floor.
He hummed low causing Penelope to melt under his approval. What did fashion matter when she had Colin looking at her like this?
Penelope found her wet and naked body pulled against his, sighing at the delicious kiss of their skin. Instinctually her hands came up to run from his chest down to the points of his bare hips. His skin felt so warm under her hands, sweet relief amidst the frigidness of the dark room. He held still patiently as she traced the ridge from his belly button to sternum, silently taking possession of the expanse.
He he pressed her further back into the mattress as he began to kiss her slow and deep allowing her to feel the tug of something different, a hunger to it all. She gasped for breath between kisses, only wanting more, his thigh came between her legs, providing delicious pressure where she still throbbed for him.
“What are you doing to me?” He moaned, before lowering his mouth to hers again.
Without restraint she rolled her hips up, moaning at the sensation of grinding herself against the hard muscle of his thigh.
With a growl he shifted them, forcing her legs wider as he settled between her thighs.
He reached down, his fingers finding her. “You are so wet.” He whispered against her lip.
“Am I not supposed to be? Is it wrong?” She asked, panic flaring.
“It is a very, very good thing.” He rumbled, dragging his fingers along the line of her before plunging them down again.
She arched and moaned as they came closer to her entrance. Pushing ever so slightly inside, “Colin, will you?” She asked.
“Will I?” He asked, almost teasing.
“Please?” She gasped. Somewhere deep inside she knew that begging him was wrong but the way he smiled wickedly at her abolished such thoughts.
Slowly his first finger breached its way inside her, then before she could adjust to it another began stretching her, the slight sting making her bite her lip.
“Does it hurt?” He asked, pausing his hand.
“A little, but I like it.” She admitted, and it was true. He made her aware of the depths of herself, the pulsing ache around his fingers only intensified, a sweet sort of torture that made her crave more. He moaned, almost frustrated at her words.
“Move against me.” He told her. Keenly, she rolled her hips against his hand.
“Good girl.” He told her. She moved again in response, feeling impossibly tight around his digits and he groaned at her compliance. She did not stop, the feeling of riding against his hand was quickly igniting a molten fire within her. If only he could touch her deeper.
“Colin, I need more.” She gasped, only realising the truth as it left her lips. She spread her legs further apart to show him she meant what she said.
Silently, he withdrew his hand. His eyes connected with hers as he repositioned himself. Almost unsure of her resolve despite her being ready to beg for him to plunge into her. She would die to feel the complete length of him buried inside her. This was all she knew. All she could think of. She felt him press against her entrance and she found she could no longer think.
She buried her face against the column of his neck, nose tucked against the hard angle of his jaw. Her teeth found his soft skin and sunk in slightly so she could muffle her own cries as he pushed into her. She was not aware that she had wrapped her legs around him. She felt impossibly stretched. Akin to having her fingers pulled apart in different directions. It was at the edge of what she could bare.
He stilled. “Pen?”
She held her breath. She did not want him to stop, or worse, withdraw completely but nor could she pretend she was alright.
“Pen?” He asked again, softer, pulling back just enough to evict her from the crook of his neck, “have I hurt you?”
She let out the trapped air from her lungs and shook her head, biting down on a small whimper.
“Do not lie to me.” He told her, voice dangerously low.
“It hurts.” She admitted. “But I need you to keep going.”
He looked conflicted. Searching her for any deception. She looked back defiantly. With a moan he surged forward, sheathing himself the rest of the way inside her. Penelope cried out at the shock wave that hit out through her body, feeling herself soften as the sting of the stretching subsided.
“You look so beautiful like this.” He told her, voice dazed, his hips held still. “You are the most beautiful sight I have ever laid eyes on.”
“Will you move?” She asked back.
“Will you move with me?”
She met the first roll of his hips. He was being slow and gentle with her, she could sense it, could feel the tremors shuddering through the tense muscles of his arms. He was holding himself back for her.
When they finally moved harder against each other she couldn’t help but cry out his name, shocked by the sensations.
“My God, Pen, say my name again.” He groaned.
“Colin?”
“No. Not like that.”
He thrust even harder into her eliciting another cry of pleasure from her. “Colin.” She gasped.
He moaned into her mouth, dipping his head to kiss her roughly, urgently.
“Colin.” She whispered as he pulled back. She felt so full, so complete, he was moaning her name now, “Pen, Pen, Penelope.” His hips snapping erratically, each time making her toes curl and her back arch. She loved him. She loved this.
Suddenly she felt herself tighter around him. “Pen.” He gasped almost desperately as his body tensed, he pushed as deeply as he could into her, she could only cling to him, gasping as he moaned the most beautiful sound she had ever heard.
Suddenly, she found herself cold and empty of him and she made to sit up and wriggle to the far side of the bed. Colin, having other ideas, drew her back and nestled her warm and comfortable against the rise and fall of his chest.
“I had not done that before.” He admitted to her.
“I must admit I had not either.” She replied, half in jest, because of course she had not.
He chuckled softly and held her all the more tightly. “I would not have held it against you if you had found yourself a paramour on your nightly tristes around London.” He said, pressing his face against her hair.
“I would not have thought that you did not bed a maiden in every port you crossed.”
“I have found my way into a bed before. But there are many things that can be done in a bed. I wished to save this one act for my future wife.”
“I am sorry to have taken it from her.” Pen murmured. Sleep pressing heavily down upon her. “I am sure she would have found your waiting for her quite the romantic gesture.”
Her traitorous eyes closed against her will.
“You cannot take what was meant for you.” She heard Colin whisper, as she faded into a dream.
In the cold blue of the next morning Penelope woke to a world now still and quiet. In the night, Colin had curled around her, now half dressed.
“You are awake.” He said, against her bare shoulder, tickling up the line of her neck.
“Do I look a mess?” She asked, reaching up to feel the disaster of her hair. She was never allowed to sleep on it wet.
“You look beautiful.” He said with such fierce sincerity Penelope knew that from now on his judgement was not one she could trust.
Feeling the pleasant aches throughout her body she turned in his arms, tucking her head under his chin where she felt the most warm. “How do you find yourself?” He asked.
In truth, she was tender, feeling almost bruised. “I am sure I shall feel normal again in a day or two.” She admitted.
“Does it hurt?”
“Only a little.”
“Would you allow me to kiss it better?”
Penelope giggled, confident he spoke in jest. “You would be gentle? I do not think I could bear even your smallest finger?”
“Last I checked I offered you my tongue and not my hand.”
She stilled. “Is that even something that can be done?”
“I assure you that it is. It is something I very much want to do if you would let me.”
She nodded.
“That is not a yes, Penelope.” He chastised the wickedness of his smile stoking a burning need within her that brought her tender core to the edge of pain.
“Yes?”
“Yes? What is it you wish me to do?”
“I wish you to kiss me…?”
“Where?”
“Where you placed yourself last night. Where you were inside me.”
“Here?” He asked, his fingers tracing where she slit.
She nodded, “yes there.”
“Anything for you Pen.” He smiled before he began to kiss his way down her belly.
She felt his breath against her sensitive skin as he pushed her knees up and apart. “Do you still trust me?” He asked, mouth centimetres from where she had told him to be.
“Of course.” How could she not? Open as she was for him.
Her words caught in her throat however as he began to taste her. For that was the only way she could describe it, the gentle way his tongue slid along the length of her.
“Oh my God.” She breathed.
She was only vaguely aware that he had pulled back to murmur something.
“What?” She asked, trying to concentrate on his words.
“Tell me you are mine.”
His demand crept through her, heating her blood. “I am yours.” She replied as his mouth came upon her anew, finding a rhythm and drawing her toward the same gushing feeling his hands had brought her to the night before.
He was merciless, rendering her without any ability other than to grasp him with her thighs, her hands deep in the grip of his soft hair. He hummed approvingly at every cry she uttered and every time she arched her back making her want to be bolder, louder, not realising how much she was letting go of herself until she was practically screaming, calling out his name as though it were a desperate prayer. Yet nothing she did slowed his lavishing upon her and so she broke, meeting the finish he had brought her to with a desperate, broken sob.
Colin made his way slowly back up, paying homage to every place he came upon on his way. When he reached her mouth she though he would kiss her but instead he spoke.
“I love you.”
Her blood froze. “You do not have to say that.” Never before had her voice sounded so low in her own ears.
He pulled her up so they were both sitting facing one another. “Had I not lost sight of my priorities last night I would have told you in more appropriate circumstances, Pen but I cannot change that I love you and I cannot let another moment pass without telling you.”
She shook her head. “I hold you to no obligation, Colin. You know all my secrets, even if I had a heart callous enough to trick you into a marriage you could ruin me by telling the ton who I am. You are under no obligation to say or do anything.”
He looked like she had struck him a mighty blow. But she had not, she had released him.
“How can you possibly think that I could find marrying you an obligation?” He asked, his mouth twisted in shock. “How can you possibly think I would lie about my feelings for you?”
Penelope hardened her jaw. “I think you could do a great many things in the name of honour, Colin. And I think you can lie, did you not do just that to procure Cressida’s necklace last season?”
His eyes flashed. “I have erred grievously.”
She had known he would grow to regret touching her but still, the callous recognition cut the same. “I believe you were compliant.” She reminded him.
He let out a frustrated sound, running his hands through his hair. “I was more than compliant, Pen. I had…I had been thinking of doing those acts to you and more for nights. I am not sure I was not hoping for something to happen the moment I pushed for the ride to go forward. My only error was not ensuring you were my wife before I got you alone and not telling you how I felt before I began to touch you.”
Penelope worried at her lip. She was beginning to feel less sure that he misspoke. But of course he could not love her. Not when he would never court her.
“You are being cruel, Colin.” She had not meant the accusation to crack with the heavy onslaught of emotion she was feeling. it crack it did, because he was being careless with her. In his rush to make right their actions he had temporarily convinced himself of his feelings and intentions of marriage. It was not something he could fulfil. Not when he had dismissed her as a prospect for so many years
“Pen…”
“No.” She said thickly. “No. You listen. Because I will confess this to you only once. I have spent my whole life loving you…”
He opened his mouth to speak and she stopped him. “Let me finish. I have spent my whole life loving you and you said it yourself, I see everything, notice everything. Had you ever looked at me and seen more to me than a friend, even once, I would have noticed. You do not love me Colin Bridgerton that I know.”
“Then I take it back.” He said angrily.
She nodded, confirmed in her beliefs.
“I take back when I said that you see everything and that you are a sharp wit because you cannot see this and you are behaving as though you are dull.”
She gasped. Never in her life had he insulted her.
“The fact you have told me that you were not simply caught up in passion last night and that I truly hold the precious gift of your affection is all I need to live, Penelope. I do not know how long I have loved you, it grew too slowly for me to realise but I knew that I needed you from the moment my first letter to you was not returned. I cannot explain to you the dred I felt that I might lose you, that I might return to London too late and find you hastily married to some undeserving lordling. Then it all became clear when I saw you here, at Aubrey Hall. I needed you to marry me. I needed to keep you in my life forever and I cannot explain to you how overwhelming that was, to have wanted nothing more than to feel the same love that my father felt for my mother only for that feeling to come upon me as I looked upon my dearest friend in a way so crushing, so all consuming that I know it makes my parents’ love pale in comparison.”
Penelope shrunk back for he had risen onto his knees, taking her hands in his as he relentlessly held her gaze. “Do you still love me, Pen?” He asked, pleading.
“Of course I do. I could not stop even when I wanted nothing more.” She admitted. “It frightens me how much I do.”
Colin’s face split into pure happiness as he brought her hands to his lips. “Then agree to be my wife.” He told her. “Agree and marry me at once so I can be sure you will not slip away somewhere at night without having to bring me with you.”
Her own tears began to slip between the corners of her lips. Her heart was pounding with what she recognised was relief. Relief that if he loved her too, all would finally be right in the world. “I could never go anywhere without you.” She said.
There were screams from the grand old country house as the two mounted figures emerged from the shadows of the forest.
Colin and Penelope were met by a flurry of servants and the Bridgerton clan themselves as they were brought down from their saddles and wrapped in blankets.
Violet struggled to let them each go as they were whisked inside to be bathed and fed.
Later, after being ensured the horses were well, Colin went in search of Penelope. He paused outside the drawing room upon hearing sobbing inside, he peered through the crack in the door to see his future wife sitting with Eloise, the two were wound together, speaking quickly and quietly between quiet sobs. Thinking better of interrupting their reunion he walked away.
He found his way, instead, to Benedict, who was walking away from the kitchens of all places.
“There you are, brother, how glad I am that you and Miss. Penelope did not succumb to the plummeting temperatures of last night. How did you do it?”
Colin ignored his question, “When is Anthony due to return?”
“He and the Viscountess are not due back from their honeymoon for another week.”
“So you are still…”
“Acting head of the family? I am afraid so.”
Colin was forced to walk as Benedict continued his way through the house. “Penelope and I found our way to the cabin, we had to wait out the storm…”
“How fortuitous it was there.”
“I…” Colin bit down any encroaching humiliation. “I am in need of a special licence.”
Benedict whipped around, mirth flashing over his features. “You do not say.”
Colin bit down any retort that came to mind.
“How special does this licence you speak of need to be?”
“You say the Viscount returns in a week?”
“I did.”
“If something could be arranged before then, that would be…most appreciated.”
Benedict clapped his younger brother on his shoulder. “Say no more, it will be done.”
The next morning Penelope was more than a little terrified to face the Bridgertons.
The night before Colin had slipped into her quarters and between impassioned kisses had told her that the special licence was applied for and they would be wed within the week.
But she had not stepped more than a foot inside the drawing room when she was swarmed by the happy family. Violet had barely relinquished her to Francesca when Eloise violently yanked her away.
“If he is forcing you into this just know, I am able to fight him. He looks big but a swift kick to the shins and he crumple.”
Penelope laughed. “This is as much my will as it is his.”
“And you will tell him…”
“He already knows.”
“And he accepts it?”
“I think he likes it.”
Penelope giggled at Eloise’s disgusted expression.
They sat down together. “I always thought we would grow into spinsterhood together, you and I, I never considered being alone.”
“You are not alone, you have your family.”
“Yes well I suppose I could never imagine anyone wanting to marry Hyacinth. I cannot believe you survived that storm just to leave to marry my brother.”
“I am not dying, Eloise.” Penelope laughed. “We will still be in London.” She squeezed her friend’s hand. “I know you and I still have much to work through. I will not forget that only because I am married.”
The drawing room doors opened once more the occupants of the room faded into the background as Colin entered.
He beelined for Penelope. Before she had time to stand, he sunk to the floor.
“Pen. I know this is long overdue. But you must forgive me for only recently realising that there would be no point returning home if it were not for you. You are my dearest friend. There is not a thing you could ask of me that I would not do and you once told me that if I found myself in love that I should declare it fervently, assuredly and loudly. And so I am, in front of everyone I hold most dear…discounting Anthony of course…declaring that you have realised in me what love truly feels like. It is safe, it is warm and it is all consuming. I wish to dive into it with you and never let you go.” He withdrew a small box and opened it, holding the ornate pearl ring up to Penelope. “If you would do me the honour?”
“I will, Colin.” Penelope smiled. “I will.”