Chapter Text
Penelope listened as the footsteps grew more and more faint, one of her hands reaching up to clasp the opposite shoulder. Upon hearing the sound of the front door shutting, she turned to look down at the street. She watched as he walked a few steps onto the pavement and felt herself suck in a breath when he paused. And then she moved out of the view of the glass before his head could finish turning.
Sitting down to face the doorway instead, she fiddled with her hands, replaying their conversation again and again in her mind.
Why did he care so much about what she did with her life? Why did he insist on lecturing her? Why did she feel so angry with him?
Oh- And why had she said that? A hand lifted to press against her eyes involuntarily, as if it would be enough to block out her thoughts. She’d never intended to even hint at her feelings for Colin, and especially never to him. It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t love her. She’d only been fifteen when the two met- practically an infant. Of course, he’d always see her as nothing more than a little sister. There was no fault in that.
But then why couldn’t he just disappear from her mind?
In all honesty, Penelope no longer even knew what her feelings for Colin were. She'd considered herself in love with him for many years, but now she wasn't sure if she knew him well enough to actually love him. He'd always done so well in hiding himself behind charm and humor, but the past few weeks had shown her that there was much more to him than she had ever been aware.
Perhaps what she had mistaken for love was simply infatuation, brought on by good looks and a charming smile. Perhaps, it was just a childhood affection that had withstood time by his ongoing kind attention. Perhaps… Perhaps she didn’t even know what love was.
But still, why, oh why did it have to be him of all people? Why was he the one who she couldn’t hide herself from, couldn’t make herself blend into the background as she did with most people?
Her mind raced as she sat in Lady Bridgerton’s drawing room. If she’d arrived at Number Five with doubts, they’d more than tripled in the last hour. She’d come for answers, for guidance, but had instead only received more uncertainty.
Although, she considered, Colin’s words did ring true, at least in some measure. There was a part of her that didn’t believe that her friendship with James would ever become more. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe that love could develop from friendship, of that she certainly did. But for some reason… She just didn’t think it would ever be that way for them. She’d always asserted that she could be happy without love and romance... But now, she wasn’t sure if that was true either.
Letting out a harsh sigh, Penelope rose from her seat. This was not something Eloise could help her with. Eloise, who had always held in her convictions that she would only marry for love. Eloise, who had always been blessed with the choice of never needing to settle for anything less.
She asked a maid for a piece of paper and quill, quickly jotting down a note to her friend. She needed to do this herself, needed to make her own choices without the input of anyone else. So, Penelope just wrote that something had come up and that she would come by in a few days' time, and then she left.
As seemed to be a newly developed habit, Colin felt quite regretful by the time he arrived back at his own home. He couldn’t understand what had possibly possessed him to give Penelope his unasked-for opinion, especially on her love life. It wasn’t his place to tell her whether or not she was in love or what kind of marriage she was meant to have.
He chuckled a bit ironically at himself. He, who had never experienced anything near love, nor had any inclination towards marriage, had actually thought that he had the right to comment or criticize her. He, who had spent far too much of his life running from commitment, thought he was at liberty to tell her how it ought to be.
But he didn’t know what had gone through his damn mind. She’d been standing there with her wide, innocent eyes and flushed cheeks and something had simply overtaken him. He’d never been one to hide his thoughts from Penelope; he’d never before had to. But now, the exact time when he should have simply kept his mouth shut, he hadn’t even been able to force himself. He’d spent a majority of his life simply being pleasant, giving laughs and charming grins even when he didn’t always feel like it. But with Penelope, he just didn’t seem to be able to fake it.
She deserved better than to settle, of that he was sure. But that didn’t mean that it was his place to tell her so.
Penelope spent three entire days reasoning with her unrelenting mind before coming to her ultimate conclusion.
The process itself had been almost agonizing, but once her decision had been made, she felt lighter, absolutely sure of it. She knew deep in her heart that she didn’t want to marry without love, even if that meant that she would never marry at all.
And although her conversation with Colin hadn’t been the deciding factor for her choice, it had acted as a confirmation of sorts for her already apprehensive mind. He’d been the only person, other than herself, that had raised any sort of contest to an engagement with James. And Penelope considered that if she really had wanted to marry, she would have given a better argument. Instead, she’d found herself silently agreeing with him, supplying herself with the answer that had already been buried inside.
She and James took a walk through the Featherington garden the afternoon after she’d made up her mind. Her mother, completely unaware of the impending exchange, left the two of them alone on their stroll with a less-than-subtle wink.
He was as understanding as Penelope was apologetic. He'd taken in her words carefully, nodding along slowly as she explained. There had been some disappointment in his eyes, but no rebuttals or disagreements were made. In fact, he seemed to acknowledge the truth in most of what she said. They shared a sorrowful smile and a kiss on the hand before parting.
It was, perhaps, the most amicable rejection to a non-proposal that London had ever seen.
Later that evening, Portia was disappointed to find out that her daughter’s would-be engagement was off. She was not, however, incredibly surprised.
“I knew you should have trapped him when you still had the chance. The courting was far too long,” the older woman sighed, wearing an expression of mixed motherly melancholy and irritation. “Are you sure there’s nothing you can do to change his mind?”
Penelope smiled coolly at the ground and shook her head, trying to ignore the twinge of hurt she felt. She wasn’t at all surprised by her mother’s assumptions; she’d been purposefully vague in her explanation. She didn’t care to receive the double-edged glory of being the one to call it off, and she was quite aware that neither Portia nor the ton would ever understand if she had told the whole truth. No one would possibly comprehend why a woman such as Penelope Featherington would ever give up her likely only chance for marriage.
Which was why, when Lady Whistledown’s Society Papers came out two days later, she didn’t at all mind that it read:
On an unfortunate but rather unremarkable note, this author has been made aware that Mister Ainsley will not be proposing to Miss Featherington anytime this season or the next. Better luck next time, perhaps (though This Author holds that the possibility seems a tad unlikely).
Despite a number of missives sent to her, Penelope only went to see Eloise the day of the column’s release, praying to all that was holy that she wouldn’t run into any other Bridgertons along the way. She didn’t want to see any of their pitying faces, or even worse, Colin’s face of I-told-you-so.
Because he hadn’t. He had been completely, absolutely wrong about James. But he didn't deserve her explanation.
Thankfully, it seemed that her prayers had been answered, for she was let upstairs to Eloise's room without any interference. And although she hadn't felt any nervousness on her walk towards Number Five, something in her stomach twinged when her knuckles met the open door. "Eloise?”
Eloise, who had been reading something at her writing desk, smiled and immediately got up to greet her. "Penelope, good morning," she said, her smile a bit too bright and her hug a bit too affectionate to feel natural. The tenderness in her expression was more than enough confirmation that she'd read the article already.
“Do you want me to call up for something- tea?” Eloise asked in an exceptionally jovial voice.
Penelope blinked at her, slowly nodding as she sat down on a sofa, "Erm, that would be good." She'd felt so exceptionally settled in her decision since she'd made it, so entirely sure of herself, but as she watched Eloise ring for a maid, Penelope felt her certainty waver. In the presence of her closest friend’s thinly veiled sympathy, she found herself becoming overwhelmed with the gravity of her decision.
Joining her on the sofa, Eloise looked at her with some concern but forced a beaming smile, nonetheless. “How’s the weather?” She cast a glance at the window. “It looks like it might storm. Did you feel any rain?”
Penelope frowned slightly, taking a moment to digest the question before shaking her head. “Uhm, yes. Er, no- I think it might. I wasn’t really paying attention.” She couldn't seem to remember how it had felt outside, her vicious mind working against her. And she couldn't seem to get comfortable in her seat- fidgeting with her position every few seconds.
“Ah. Well.” There was a slight pause as Eloise tapped on her own knee, clearly looking as though she were ready to burst. “Do you-“
“I-“
They stopped and looked at each other, neither continuing with whatever they’d meant to say. Both women waited for the other to go on, but the only sound that was made was by the maid returning with a tea tray.
Eloise smiled politely as she waited for the tray to be set down, dismissing the maid with a gentle yet urgent, “Thank you. I can finish from here.” Quickly, she got up and shut the door firmly once they were alone again.
Returning to her seat, she looked at her friend expectantly. But Penelope wouldn’t reach her eyes, holding her gaze on the floor instead.
Eloise’s restraint lasted only a few seconds before she could contain herself no longer. “Pen, what is it?” The air of contrived brevity in her voice had now been long since abandoned.
“I…” Penelope paused, wringing her hands. Reluctantly, she sighed, "I suppose you read the article."
"Yes" was all that came in reply, and she could sense the impatience in Eloise even without looking at her.
Penelope swallowed, glancing down at her reddened palms. She really hadn't planned on telling anyone, not even Eloise. But it seemed that this was one secret she simply couldn't hold within herself; she needed her best friend to be with her through it. And in a voice softer than she'd meant, Penelope whispered, "I ended the courtship."
There was a beat of silence as the confession hung in the air, creeping itself into each crevice of her mind. Slowly, Eloise reached out to take one of Penelope's agitated hands. "You did? But... Lady Whistledown?"
Penelope gave a feeble shrug, shutting her eyes momentarily. "Whistledown got it wrong."
I see,” Eloise took a breath, lips pressed together as her eyes flickered over her companion. With an uncharacteristic air of hesitancy, she asked, “Did something happen? With Mister Ainsley, I mean.”
Penelope shook her head, still refusing to meet her friend's searching gaze. "I don't really know. I just-," her voice cracked as she cut off, shoulders lifting again in a jerky movement. She swallowed as she finally looked up, her eyes darting around the room. There was some part of her that seemed to expect for the answer to be written on the walls somewhere.
Finally, she took a shaky breath, forcing herself to look Eloise's way. And in the smallest voice she'd ever before heard herself use, she whispered, “I just didn’t love him, El.”
There was another pause as Eloise looked at her, her mouth twisting as she put her next words together carefully. After a moment, she spoke slowly, “I thought you always said that love wasn’t as important as…”
Though Eloise trailed off, Penelope knew what she meant. She'd always said that all she cared for in a marriage was kindness, respect, and comfort. That love could grow and come in time, but that the foundations were what mattered. And before the season had begun, Penelope had always thought that was the truth.
Her eyes moved slowly from Eloise’s concerned face to their united hands, until finally, they settled on the floor again. She swallowed, giving another small shrug. “I did, and I always thought that it would be enough, but…” Penelope's mouth opened but no words came out. She felt a familiar twinge of pain in her nose before her vision blurred with tears.
Taking a deep breath, her voice barely came out a whisper. “I suppose I always hoped to have a family, but maybe it’s just not in the cards for me.” A tear escaped unwittingly from her eye and rolled down her cheek, leaving behind a cold trail in its wake. “I’ll just have to make myself happy- even if I’m alone.”
Eloise’s arms wrapped around her in less than a flash. “You’ll always have me, Pen,” she whispered softly as her friend let out a muffled sob into her shoulder. “You’ll never be alone, I promise.”
Eloise found herself with yet another visitor just twenty-four hours later, but this was one was significantly less polite. Rather than knocking, he strode in completely unannounced.
“What could you possibly want?”
Colin practically gaped at her, “Did you read this?” He tapped harshly on the piece of paper he was holding. “He jilted her!”
He’d told Penelope that this would happen. He knew that the prick would do this. He knew that-
His sister glanced at the paper before looking back up at him in exasperation. “Yes, I read it. Yesterday, when it was actually released.” Her arms crossed as his expression remained just as hostile. And then she softened a bit, looking into her brother's angry face. “And he didn’t jilt her. Whistledown got it wrong; Penelope was the one who made the decision.”
Colin blinked at her several times, the column crumpling in his fist. “What?”
She sighed impatiently, her voice taking on a patronizing tone. “She told Mister Ainsley that she didn’t want to marry him. It was her choice.”
He frowned. “Do you know why?”
Eloise nearly rolled her eyes, taking a long look at him. “No.”
Although he was quite certain that there was more to her answer, he didn’t press her further. “Right. Well- I hope she’s alright.”
The girl’s mouth twisted slightly as she watched him. "She doesn't want people to know."
He didn't need to ask why- he surely knew the answer. Instead, he just nodded and excused himself.
Sometime later that afternoon, Colin found himself standing at the front steps of the Featherington residence before his mind had even made sense of where his feet were leading him. He wasn’t sure why he was there- he supposed that he wanted to see her, to assure himself that she really was fine.
He had a momentary pause of worry that he might not be let in, recalling that his last few conversations with Penelope had not been good ones. But to his relief, he was taken up to an empty drawing room without any delay. He’d even been treated to a tea tray, absentmindedly plucking an apple tart into his mouth as he waited.
Minutes ticked by as Colin waited, causing him to grow nervous with every passing moment. This time, there was no question in his mind that he needed to apologize.
But just when he was beginning to worry that she might not come down after all, Penelope appeared in the doorway. He stood up and gave her a nod in greeting, mustering up a small smile. He felt himself release a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding when her own lips turned upwards.
“Penelope, I just wanted... Er, I’ve just come to-“ he cringed slightly. He wasn't a frequent maker of apologies, and what could be the right words for something like this?
“It’s alright,” she said, giving him leave from what was sure to be a lame explanation. It wasn’t really alright, they both knew that, but he appreciated her grace all the same.
“I’m sorry for how I’ve acted,” was what finally came from his mouth.
Penelope nodded, “I’m sorry too.”
He let out a small chuckle; even when he was the one in the wrong, she somehow had the decency not to rejoice in it. “Are you alright?”
Her eyes widened slightly as if she were surprised by the question. After a moment's paused, she answered, “Uhm, yes. I think so.”
He swallowed involuntarily, racking his mind for a comforting word to say. Why had he decided to come and see her in the first place again? “I’m sure you’ll have another chance,” was what came tumbling out of his mouth.
Penelope gave him a side-eyed glance, letting out a rather unfortunate snort. She had begun to pace absentmindedly, whereas he had returned to his seat. After a moment, she sighed, “You really don’t need to say things we both know aren't true.”
Damn, he had no clue what to say to that.
He watched her wordlessly, but she just sent him a humored grin that didn’t seem to reach her eyes. “It’s alright,” she waved her hand. “I suppose I’ll just die an old maid. One who's never known love or kissing or...”
She’d meant the statement to be taken jokingly, but it was weakened by the hint of bitterness in her voice. Her face had developed a faraway expression as she continued to pace, making it seem like she’d forgotten who was still in the room with her.
“No,” he muttered after a moment, and her head twitched in his direction at the sound. From where he was sitting, he noticed the curves of her figure. And the delightful shade of pink that her cheeks had taken. And he saw that her brows were fuddled together in a way that seemed quite endearing to him. In fact, she really looked rather fetching.
An almost rueful chuckle escaped from her lips. “No? Well, I don’t suppose you or-“
But her words had been cut off.
Suddenly, Penelope was breathless. The entire room had gone silent except for the rapid pounding of blood in her ears. She hadn’t even noticed him move until she’d been forced into an abrupt halt to avoid colliding into him.
Colin himself hadn’t realized that he’d left his spot on the sofa and taken three great strides towards her until he was just mere inches away from her.
There was a strange underlying air of urgency as he moved slowly, placing a hand under her chin and tipping her face up towards him. He could feel her trembling under his fingertips, or perhaps he was the one trembling. She was looking at him with wide, bewildered eyes but made no attempt to back away. He glanced down to her lips for a moment, parted just slightly in surprise, before returning to her eyes. And as if it were his first time seeing them, he noticed the rather exquisite ring of gold just inside the iris. How had he never noticed how enchanting the color brown could be?
It took all of his strength to restrain himself from just doing what he so desperately wanted; or perhaps more accurately, what he so desperately seemed to need.
But Colin was aware of the consequences an action like this could make. And although he was ready to accept them, he needed to be sure that she was as well. So far, however, all she had done was stare up at him.
It seemed like an endless moment of torturous silence before Penelope finally made an incomprehensible sound. But then a whisper came from her, so clear and unambiguous that he wasn’t sure if he would ever be able to hear anything else again.
“Please.”
Colin didn’t hesitate to close the gap between them upon hearing the word, feeling as though he was being drawn to her by a magnetic force. He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing; his mind had seemingly been abandoned by his body.
There was something about her mentioning the simple word ‘kiss’ that had made it impossible for him to have any coherent actions. She shouldn’t have to go on forever without experiencing a kiss. She should get to appreciate the taste of someone else’s lips against hers at least once in her life. And he knew that he had enough experience to ensure that she would enjoy this one.
However… Despite the number of kisses Colin had shared in his lifetime, theirs was completely different from any before. It felt almost as if it was just as much his first as hers. It only took him a few moments to realize that not only was this kiss different than any that came before, but it was also better. There was a burning in him that he hadn’t ever experienced before. He tasted the cinnamon leftover from the tart he had been eating, but there was also a hint of something else that was entirely her own. He could smell her- a floral scent. Perhaps honeysuckle? He wasn’t exactly sure, but it seemed to intoxicate him. Had Penelope always smelled this way? He’d never been close enough to know her scent. Or maybe he’d just never noticed.
At that moment, he couldn’t dream of ever kissing another person ever again, of ever wanting to feel someone else’s warmth against him. He wanted her. And only her.
On the other end of the kiss, Penelope was in a haze of her own, completely overtaken by the feeling of his lips on hers. Her breath had become haggard and unsteady as he moved against her mouth, feeling a type of bliss she'd never even imagined possible. She was frozen in time and hadn’t any clue as to what to do. Other than her lips, every inch of her body remained extremely still. Her knees might have let out if she wasn’t pressed so firmly against him, held up by his capable arms. In a distant part of her mind, she thought that she aware of his hands gliding along her frame before they landed softly right below the small of her back. She hadn’t ever been held by anyone like this and he was- was he mumbling her name? It was becoming increasingly arduous to understand anything that was happening around her.
After however long, Colin pulled away with heavy breaths, bringing a hand back up to delicately hold her chin. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at him through her lashes, feeling misty and unsteady. Was this what it always felt like to kiss someone? She couldn’t help but wonder if it was the same with all of the women that he kissed.
And then Colin said the most peculiar thing, staring deeply into her eyes as he leaned down to rest his forehead against hers. “You can kiss me too.” There was a softness in his voice that she had never heard before and it made her heart swell almost uncomfortably. She blinked at him, utterly mystified by his suggestion. Surely… surely, he did not expect her to- “A kiss,” he met her lips again for just a moment and her stomach flipped, “is for two people.”
Her mouth parted and a hand moved up to rest carefully against his chest. She watched as it rose and fell with his deep breaths. Her gaze then moved up to meet his. His eyes, dazzling emerald green as always, appeared darker than normal. His smile, the one she had spent a decade pondering, was small but just as captivating as ever. Only a few more inches and she would be able to meet his lips again.
But rather than move forward, Penelope felt herself push against him and take an agonizing step away. This- all of this- wasn't right.
His reaction was perplexing to her. He looked angry, frustrated… was it possible even a bit hurt? She was still too flustered to analyze his expression. All she knew was that he looked anything but pleased. And that seemed to confirm worries she hadn’t even realized were there: he’d kissed her out of pity. What had she said again? She had implied, even presented a subtle challenge. And then when she had been able to get out of it, she’d allowed herself to say the opposite of what she knew she should.
“Thank you,” she finally muttered, a hand haphazardly coming up to rest under her chin where his had just been.
“Thank you?” Colin echoed, quickly taking on a look that could only portray irritation. “You don’t- that’s not what you say to a kiss.” And then his expression changed completely, and he looked worried, licking his swollen lips. “I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have-“
Penelope shook her head violently, putting up a hand to stop him. “No, I implied…” she trailed off, and his head shook as well.
“I’ve ruined-,” he whispered, unable to continue. He almost looked ashamed now.
She looked sharply at him, “You have not. No one else is here, and I’m sure neither of us has any intention of telling anyone.” Although she had meant for it to sound strong, her voice came out as a pained whisper. She felt confused, and hurt, and guilty, and-
There was a pause so heavy that it felt like it was sucking the air out of the room.
Colin’s body made an awkward movement in the direction of the door. “I should go.”
Penelope nodded in agreement, shutting her eyes tightly to avoid looking at him any longer. She listened as his footsteps made their way to the door.
“I didn’t-“ She peered up at the sound of his voice, but his back was facing her.
“You didn’t what?” she called after him, almost desperate to know what he wanted to say. As if his words could make any difference.
But he shook his head roughly, giving her one last look. “Never mind. I should go.”
And before she could even decide whether she wanted to push the subject further, the door shut firmly behind him, leaving a chilling silence in its wake.