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Chapter Text

Penelope Featherington did not believe in love at first sight, mostly because the cost of manufacturing such a moment would likely be out of this season’s budget. Or, at least, she always assumed that … but maybe something could be done?

Pen whipped out her phone, opening up the Notes app and scrolling to a Note titled simply “IDEAS.” Scrolling to the end of a long list, she tapped in the cursor and typed: “Create ‘love at first sight’ moment - maybe in France? Find a cupid statue or something and get a shot where his bow is shooting right at our happy couple? Special effects in post? Talk to Genevieve about options.’

She stuffed her phone back into the pocket of her sky blue hoodie and peered into the dimly lit room from the doorway, groaning as she wished her New Year’s holiday could have lasted about three more months. Sadly, however, it was January – and in Pen’s life, that meant filming for the next season of Princess Seeking Prince was about to begin.

Inside the room, most of the usual cast of suspects were already present; some exchanging polite pleasantries, but most with their heads buried deep into their phones, avoiding eye contact with everyone else. They were generally an unsociable bunch once the season began, which Pen deeply appreciated. 

Toward the back of the room, two people had their heads bowed together in deep conversation – Will and Alice Mondrich, the friends-turned-spouses-turned-power-producer-couple who always gave Pen a run for her money when it came to dogged competitiveness. In the second row, yawning either from fatigue or boredom, sat Tilley Arnold, a veteran of reality television whose jadedness never seemed to impede her knack for success. And in the front was Cressida Cowper, the cutthroat producer herself, sitting with shoulders straight and hair perfectly pinned up into the tightest bun one could find outside of a stage filled with ballerinas.

“Penelope!”

A friendly face waved to her from across the room – Brimsley, one of her favorite PAs, tapped on the seat next to him. Pen took him up on the invitation, making her way over and swinging her worn canvas tote bag up onto the table with a thud, sending several more pieces of the vinyl sticker of the Paul Frank monkey that was barely still recognizable on the front of the bag falling to the floor.

“Back for more fun, I see,” Pen said, exhaling sharply as she took a seat.

“I could say the same for you. Going for the win this year?” Brimsley asked with a smile, grabbing a handful of almonds from a dusty ziplock bag and offering some to Pen, who waved them away.

“I always do. Just depends on what cast of meatheads I have to work with this year. I am praying for at least one of them to have two functioning brain cells,” she said, rolling her eyes.

The familiar tap of a cane on the door frame snapped everyone in the room to attention. There she was, in the flesh – Agatha Danbury, executive producer and generally terrifying presence. As Danbury (who preferred to be called by her last name, like an intimidating coach who was determined to make the final championship game no matter how many tears it took) made her way into the room, she eyed her crew up and down, somehow inexplicably balancing a look that encompassed both judgment and a feigned disinterest.

“I see we have the usual troublemakers back again,” she said finally, settling at the front of the room and crossing her arms and drumming her fingers impatiently. “Season 3 of Princess Seeking Prince … I welcome you all. We have a lot to live up to from last season, and no time to waste, so I will go ahead and hand the floor over to Edwina from Sharma Casting.”

Edwina Sharma, an expert in assembling beautiful casts of the D-list’s best and brightest idiots, stood from her seat and moved to the front of the room, her stilettos tapping daintily on the floor with every step. 

“Thank you, Ms. Danbury!” she said cheerfully, clutching a handful of folders to her chest. Pen observed the only thing in the room brighter than her smile was the Tiffany necklace hanging sweetly from her neck. “I know you all are excited to hear about our cast this year, but before I hand out your folders with your assignments, I am thrilled to share a few highlights about our cast that I think you’ll find interesting.

First, there is our lead, our princess - Marina Thompson. She is an accomplished, Ivy League-educated lawyer making a difference every day with her notable work in family law. On top of that, she is a single mother to a beautiful 8 year old boy. She is perhaps our strongest lead to date,” Edwina said enthusiastically, flipping open one of the folders to hold up a photograph of Marina.

Marina certainly was gorgeous, Pen thought – perfect hair, perfect teeth, perfectly thin waist and perfectly cute, perky chest. She looked like the kind of girl who was both prom queen and valedictorian; so sophisticated that Pen wondered why she would even bother with a reality tv show when she could likely handpick any member of the male sex she wanted.

“I know I am stating the obvious, but because she was the producer for the winning contestant last season, Cressida will take the lead producer role with Marina,” Danbury said, nodding to Cressida. “I trust Marina will be in excellent hands with you.”

“Of course,” Cressida said, sitting up even straighter and flashing a smug smile. It was standard practice for their crew – whoever took one of their contestants to the end of the previous season received the honor of being the main producer for the lead of the next season; quite possibly one of the easiest and most entertaining jobs each year, provided the lead wasn’t a complete snob. Cressida’s buffoon of a contestant last season, a former high school tennis player with the ability to talk for a half hour straight without saying any words above two syllables, had handily won the heart of their lead, who had been a typical vapid beauty queen. 

“Now, I know you all must be chomping at the bit to know which men will be on your team this year,” Edwina said, raising her shoulders as if her body simply couldn’t contain her excitement at the announcement.

“So excited, I haven’t been able to sleep,” Tilley muttered sarcastically. Danbury shot her a pointed glare.

“This year, we have some really remarkable men that I think will make Marina’s decision quite tough! Among our suitors is the handsome Freddie Frederich–”

Alice Mondrich burst out laughing. “I’m sorry … that’s his name? Freddie Frederich?”

Edwina narrowed her eyes, but kept speaking, undeterred: “Freddie Friedrich, who is a descendent of European royalty and brings a certain je ne sais quoi to the competition. Then there is Alfred Debling, an environmental rights activist and founder of the famous ‘Eat Like a Bunny’ week, encouraging everyone to adopt vegetarianism for one week each year in an effort to help save the planet.”

“What a difference maker,” Will interrupted with a hoot.

“We also have David Samadani, a successful lawyer in his own right who also enjoys the finer things in life like music and art,” Edwina continued.

“How unique!” Cressida cooed sarcastically.

“And finally,” Edwina’s eyes sparkled as she inhaled, savoring the anticipation, “this season, our casting agency managed to snag a Bridgerton brother.”

Eyebrows raised around the room – now, this was potentially impressive! The Bridgertons were famous socialites, certainly a rung higher on the celebrity ladder than their usual cast of wannabe podcast hosts and Instagram influencers. 

“Very interesting!” Danbury exclaimed, hands resting on her cane as she leaned back to give Edwina an approving look. “Did you get the funny one? The one always making those silly little painting videos that seem to go viral every week?”

“Benedict,” Penelope offered up quietly.

“No, not Benedict,” Edwina shook her head.

“Then you got the CEO!” Danbury’s jaw dropped open.

“Anthony,” Penelope said, her voice rising a little higher.

“Oh, no,” Edwina said with a shy smile. “He is … seeing someone right now. He would not be available for the show.”

Danbury frowned. “That little one is too young, isn’t he?”

“No, we didn’t get the little one. We got the third son, Colin,” Edwina said, quickly leafing through the folders to find the page with his headshot, holding it up for Danbury and the rest of the room to see.

“The travel ‘grammer? Isn’t he the boring one?” Tilley pouted. “Don’t put him on my team.”

“Colin isn’t boring,” Penelope said under her breath.

Tilley spun around to look at her. “You know him personally or something?”

“Hardly,” Pen said immediately. “I knew his sister from boarding school when we were younger. I met him – I mean, I met all of the Bridgertons – the few times I would visit their home on holidays and whatnot. I quite honestly have not even thought about any of them in years.”

A complete, total, audacious, bold-faced lie, but this work had helped Pen become quite practiced in selling a convincing fib.

“Colin Bridgerton has over a million followers,” Edwina chimed in, “so there must be plenty of people who don’t find him too terribly boring.”

“A Bridgerton with a decent social media following is a great snag for us, Edwina, even if he is the dull one,” Danbury said, her expression clearly pleased. “Perhaps we can pull in a slightly different demographic for our audience; scoop up a bit more of that 18-24 age bracket so we aren’t completely stuck with geriatric Millennials slowly aging us out …”

“Followed by @pennyspages,” Will announced as he scrolled through his phone, holding up the screen to show Colin’s profile. 

Pen bristled at the sound of her Instagram handle. 

“That must have been a follow from years ago. I hardly look at Instagram anymore, honestly.” Another lie.

“Well, if Pen is such a fan, perhaps he can be on your team,” Danbury said. 

“Conflict of interest! Conflict of interest!” Tilley chanted, erupting into laughter as she pointed at Penelope. 

“Conflict of interest? Or the potential for some interesting conflict?”

Everyone’s eyes shot to the doorway. The creator of the franchise, Charlotte Strelitz – or as she liked to be called, “Queen” Charlotte – had arrived. She was, somehow, even more intimidating than Agatha Danbury, regularly reminding the cast that she was the ‘Queen’ presiding over all of the Princes and Princesses on the show. Her opinions were always overriding, impossible to refuse, and final. Charlotte valued a dramatic storyline above all else, and was never afraid to explore a new plot twist or dramatic shift in order to chase the most interesting television they could possibly create.

“You know this Bridgerton boy well?” Charlotte’s eyes bore into Penelope, making her shift uncomfortably in her seat.

“I wouldn’t say well,” Penelope’s voice trailed off, struggling to find words befitting her complicated past with the Bridgerton family.

“Do you think he would trust you?” Charlotte’s eyes narrowed.

“Maybe?” Pen shrugged. “Like I said, I have not spoken to anyone in that family in years.”

Charlotte leaned back slightly, a knowing smirk on her face, before turning to Edwina and Danbury.

“Put the boring Bridgerton on Team Pen,” Charlotte said, the corner of her mouth twisted into a wry smile.

“Of course, ma’am,” Edwina said, setting the folders down on the table and shuffling papers around as the other producers groaned. 

Shit. Pen pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth as hard as she could to keep herself from groaning as well.

“In any case, we can go ahead and pass these folders out so you might begin to study your dream teams,” Edwina continued.

Heels clicking as she walked around the room, Edwina dropped five manilla folders in front of each of the four producers, who eagerly dug in, pulling out pages of profiles, screenshots of social media accounts, and bright, glossy headshots. As was standard practice, each producer would manage five suitors to start: interviewing them, prying into their secrets, and vying to get them to the top of the lead’s consideration list. It was a process that Pen did not necessarily love, but one that she had learned to be good at – eavesdropping on other producers and their contestants, manipulating lines of questioning, and scheming up little plans and plots to move her contestants ahead. However, in the past two seasons she had worked on the show, she had not quite measured up to the unscrupulous methods deployed by her fellow producers, failing to land one of her suitors in the final 3 both seasons.

At first glance, Pen’s crew of suitors did not appear to be winners. Two of her contestants were so unremarkable looking, she was confident they would be eliminated immediately. Louis Lumley seemed handsome enough, and his professed love of poetry could lead to some fun bits on the show, but from the looks of his social media, he was too flashy of a dresser for a successful career woman like Marina. James Basilio came across as a bit dorky from his Instagram profile, but his background as an accomplished equestrian who gave up the sport once his beloved horse Peppercorn passed away was just unique enough to make for at least one sympathetic conversation with Marina.

Then there was Colin. 

Pen pulled out his headshot and studied it. It was remarkable what a difference a few years had made. When she had last seen him, he still had the soft features of boyhood. Now, he confidently gazed at the camera with chiseled cheekbones and a ruggedly handsome 5 o’clock shadow. He was certainly the most attractive suitor in her group, which was always a promising start for a contestant. Pen remembered him being more soft-spoken and gentle than his boisterous older brothers; the only Bridgerton who regularly took time to chat with her over morning coffee while she visited Eloise on holiday. She recalled his love of travel back then; it was unsurprising that he had built an online personality around his adventurous spirit. 

“You follow his Instagram?” Brimsley’s voice snapped her out of her head.

Pen glanced over at Brimsley, who had Colin’s Instagram profile pulled up on his phone, scrolling quickly through his photos.

“I had forgotten I followed him. I never interact with him, so I don’t think I’ve ever seen his posts on my feed,” Pen said. This time, at least, she was satisfied in her honesty.

“He’s quite fit,” Brimsley said coolly, opening a photo of Colin standing on a faraway beach with pristine white sand, unashamedly zooming in on his toned abs. 

“Not my type,” Pen said, surprising herself at the quickness of her reply. It was almost a lie – she did not typically go for the six-pack abs, Instagram influencer type, but she could not forget the crush she had entertained for – what was it? – at least three years when she was interacting with the Bridgertons. Back then, he was no social media mogul; he was simply her friend’s older brother – a fun distraction to daydream about and occasionally flirt with a bit in short conversations. Of course, that flirtation had led to one unfortunate situation … Pen shook her head quickly, shoving the thought back to the depths of her brain to mingle with the other thoughts she tried to forget.

“Maybe not your type, but he might be Marina’s,” Brimsley raised an eyebrow at her. “You think he’s going to be your top push?”

Penelope shrugged. “We’ll see. I have a couple of other interesting men on my team. I’ll have to see how they interact with me once they get on set. If he’s not open to my influence, it doesn’t matter how hot he is.”

“So you’re admitting he’s hot, then?” Brimsley pursed his lips and tapped his fingers on his cheek, eyeing Pen suspiciously.

“Did I mention that Reynolds is my favorite PA?” Pen gave him a playful shove.

Danbury tapped her cane three times on the ground, commanding the attention back from the room.

“I hope you’re seeing some potential storylines in your file,” she said loudly.

“Bunny boy -- Debling – is not too bad,” Will said, holding up a headshot of a handsome, if not incredibly serious-looking blonde man. “Greta Thunberg follows him, which is a nice feather in his cap. Maybe between all of this activism work, he’s looking to settle down and plug into an existing family rather than bring another resource-sucking little mouth into the world?”

“The bleeding heart angle is so overdone these days,” Alice mocked with a fake yawn. “Anyway, I know I can push this Samadani fellow. He has seven brothers and sisters! I can play up the ‘family is everything’ angle with Miss Family Lawyer.”

“Mm, love that for you. Enjoy that,” Tilley piped up. “This Freddie-Fred-Fred, European royalty guy has ‘I can be manipulated into saying or doing anything’ written all over him. He will be an easy push. This is actually the most excited I have been in several seasons.”

Pen felt the focus of the room shift to her; she realized she still had Colin’s headshot dangling from her hands.

“Oh, um,” she cleared her throat, “there is a, uh, fascinating dude named Basilio in here whose, um, horse died, and …”

“Push the Bridgerton boy, Pen,” Danbury interrupted. “We could use the guaranteed media attention.”

“I must be honest,” Cressida said, sighing wistfully, “I do not believe any of these gentlemen are worthy of Marina. I can tell she will be discerning. It’s not going to be so easy to pique her interest.”

“Then let’s make this interesting,” Charlotte said, strolling over to stand in front of Cressida. “Let’s put a little bonus on this year’s competition. What would you all say to $50,000 extra in your pocket if one of your suitors puts a ring on Marina’s finger by our final episode?”

The room was shocked into silence – Charlotte’s favorite reaction. 

“Very well,” she smiled slyly. “I cannot wait to see what riveting television you create this season. Au revoir , my dears.”

“Thank you, Queenie,” Danbury smiled as Charlotte exited, “and thank you, Edwina, for all of your work on a wonderful cast. You make our jobs easier each year.”

Edwina dipped into a playful curtsey, grinning as she soaked up the unenthusiastic applause from everyone in the room.

“No time to dally! Go start working on your angles,” Danbury announced to the room. Chatter erupted as everyone gathered their things to leave; Pen kept her head down and shoved her folder into her bag, brushing off more loose pieces of the Paul Frank monkey vinyl onto the floor.

“See you tomorrow?” she lifted her eyes just for a moment to look at Brimsley, who gave her a sympathetic smile in return.

“You’ve got this, Pen,” he said, tapping the table.

Pen swung her bag onto her shoulder and made her way to the door, pausing only when a cane was thrust directly in the path of her right foot.

“Danbury!” she gasped.

“You don’t do this work for years without becoming excellent at reading a face,” Danbury said, examining Pen down the bridge of her nose. “There is something more to your story with this Bridgerton boy, isn’t there?”

“Nothing. I mean, no, there isn’t,” Pen forced a smile, but she knew better than to lie to Danbury. Danbury would sniff out a story from a casket if you gave her five minutes with the dead body.

“I won’t push this with you – yet,” Danbury said, skepticism dripping off every word. “But I would advise you to use your connection with this boy to make a splash this season. I expect more out of my producers than what you gave me last season. You have an advantage this time – use it.”

Pen nodded, her voice shallow as she squeaked out a simple, “yes. I will.”

“Nice top. I like that color on you,” Brimsley whispered approvingly as he slipped behind Pen, a white takeaway coffee cup in either hand. “And if you don’t mind me saying, your tits look fantastic.”

Pen could feel her cheeks flush as she straightened out the emerald green top she had snatched from the back of her closet. She now remembered why she rarely wore it – it was the slightest bit too tight in her chest, causing her breasts to spill out of the top just enough to trigger her insecurity. 

“Want me to let Reynolds know to bring in your next suitor?” Brimsley called over his shoulder as he headed toward the door.

“That’d be great. Should be my last one,” Pen replied. “Colin Bridgerton.”

“Ooh. On it,” Brimsley replied, managing to pry the door open with his elbow, holding the coffees at just the right angle to ensure they did not spill.

Pen set her other folders aside and pulled out Colin’s, opening it up to, again, gaze at his headshot. She had already wrapped up her introductory meetings with her other suitors – a mostly uninspiring group. She knew Danbury would continue to increase the pressure on her to take Colin far in the process and, having met the other unimpressive suitors under her wing, she knew Danbury was right – Colin would be the one most likely to get her to the end.

A light knock rapped on the door, and Reynolds stuck his head inside: “Ready for the last one, Penelope?”

“Bring him in,” Pen said, taking the deepest breath she could.

Reynolds entered the room and held the door open. 

And there he was – Colin Bridgerton. After the previous contestants Pen had met, Colin was in a league of his own; 6 feet of casual confidence and timeless handsomeness. The dark blue t-shirt he had chosen complimented his eyes perfectly, and a whimsical loose curl that fell on his forehead reminded Penelope of the sweet 20-year-old boy she had chatted with at the Bridgerton breakfast table years ago. As he met her eyes, she registered the surprise on his face.

“Pen!” 

He was wide-eyed, slack jawed, and strangely, seemed almost relieved to see her.

“Hi Colin,” Penelope mustered a cool and collected smile. “Long time, huh?”

Colin sat in the chair across from her, sliding his hands down to his knees and adjusting his position several times before sitting back, posturing confidence, but exuding an apprehensive energy that Pen had been trained to pick up on like a bloodhound tracking its prey.

“It’s nice to see a familiar face,” he said, drumming his fingers. 

“Things move pretty quickly once you’re here, don’t they?” Pen said sympathetically. 

“A whirlwind,” he exhaled, eyes darting from Pen’s feet back to her head. “Damn, what a surprise to see you. I thought I remembered hearing from Eloise that you worked on a television show, but I never knew which one.”

“Ta-da,” Pen said sarcastically, holding up her hands and waving her fingers, eliciting a small laugh from Colin. “Producer extraordinaire for the #2 most popular prime-time show of last year’s first quarter.”

“I’m sure I’ll be able to tell you you’re great at it once I figure out exactly what it is that you do.” Colin hit her with the famous charming Bridgerton smile, almost shaking Pen’s leverage in their conversation.

“Now, now,” Pen shook a finger at him. “Save that flirting for our Princess.”

Colin paused, taking a deep breath and looking intently at Pen. “Damn. It has been so long … what, five years?”

“Six,” Pen replied, glancing down at her papers. This was exactly the conversation she wanted to avoid with him, especially within their first five minutes of chatting.

“Six years,” Colin repeated, exhaling with a whistle. “You know, I have tried to DM you a couple of times. Not sure if you saw those, or –”

“Not a big social media person,” Pen interrupted, clearing her throat.

Liar, liar.

“Ahh,” Colin said, rubbing a finger on his lip absentmindedly. “I just … well, I think the last time we spoke was Eloise’s birthday? And I wasn’t sure–”

“Colin,” Penelope leaned forward, lowering her voice, “we should probably just stick to talking about the show for now, okay? Besides, six years is like forever in television. I’m living in the present now.”

Images of the long-nosed emoji and the word LIAR in highlighter pink flashed like strobe lights in Pen’s head.

“Oh, yeah. Absolutely.” Colin shifted slightly in his seat, and Pen registered his discomfort, slightly bemused. 

You have the power here, Pen. 

It was the only thought keeping her from careening off course and diving back into a story she had long tried to forget.

This is all business , she thought, refocusing. She straightened her shoulders, trying to regain her grip on the relationship she needed to have with him for the sake of the show.

“Anyway,” Colin broke the silence, “who is the lovely lady whose heart I’m trying to win?”

“All in good time, Mr. Bridgerton,” Pen said, lifting her chin and regaining her composure. “And as far as what I do on this show … well, you’re a traveler. Think of me as your tour guide to this experience. I’ll make sure you have everything you need to get to the end of this journey. I’ll be right behind you every step of the way, encouraging you to explore the best parts of everything around you while steering you from any disasters.”

“Disasters? Sounds ominous,” Colin said, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing as formidable as mountain biking down a volcano in Ecuador, for example,” Pen said.

“Penelope Featherington, have you been stalking my Instagram? I thought you weren’t a social media person,” he smirked. 

That damn smile again! Pen exhaled sharply, grounding herself by pushing her feet into the floor as hard as she could.

“Well, the other part of my role is learning who you are, inside and out, so we can present the best version of Colin Bridgerton to our Princess,” Pen said. “Go ahead and shake all of those skeletons out of your closet.”

“Consider them shooketh.”

“... alright, consider this your first piece of advice from Producer Pen: remove the word ‘shooketh’ from your vocabulary immediately, unless you want to be mocked ruthlessly on Twitter by the worst people you can imagine.”

“Anything you say.” Colin mimed pulling a word from his lips, lifting his hand into the air and flicking it off to the side.

“That’s the attitude of a winner,” Pen pointed at him playfully. “Now, let’s go over the itinerary for the next 24 hours. Tonight is a big night – you’ll be meeting our Princess and trying to make the best first impression. I’m not worried about you making it through to the next round, so let’s try to think of a way that you can win that first impression pin.”

“First impression pin?” Colin looked at her, obviously confused.

“Have you watched the show before?”

“Nope.”

Penelope narrowed her eyes at him. “Do you know why you’re here?”

“True love, right?” Colin shrugged. “I’ll be honest – I just signed with a new agency for representation, and they’re the ones who finagled my involvement with this show. They are big on trying to diversify my celebrity beyond just social media and, you know, the whole Bridgerton reputation and whatnot.”

“That’s smart, I suppose.”

“Yeah. You know me well enough to know that this reality tv shit wouldn’t normally be my cup of tea.”

Do I know you that well? Pen’s mouth twisted. Damn it, Pen. Refocus. You need to be all business with Colin. Just focus on the show. Treat him like any other contestant.

“But since I’m here, I might as well give it all I’ve got, right? I do enjoy winning,” Colin said, pulling his hands together in front of his chest and cracking a knuckle. “If you’ll get me closer to that end prize, then I’m all ears for whatever you suggest.”

“Good to hear. Just keep in mind … it's television, right? Some of what we have to do will be the cringiest, corniest shit you have ever heard of, but the viewers eat it up. You have to play along with everything on this show like it is the most important thing you have ever done in your life. Like you’re mountain biking down 100 Ecuadorian volcanoes,” Pen explained. “Each week, the Princess will choose who she wants to stay and who she wants to eliminate. She’ll give you a little crown lapel pin if you’re staying. There are also opportunities to earn extra time with her by winning a different little crown pin. The first one that’s up for grabs is the ‘first impression pin.’ She’ll give it to someone who impresses her this first night.”

“Okay,” Colin rubbed his chin. “So I need to be more impressive than these other jackasses in my hotel?”

“You’re catching the drift,” Pen nodded with a smile. “Now, a lot of guys are going to go over the top with a big stunt or a cliché romantic gesture. Not you, Colin Bridgerton. I want you to play it cool; very subtle. Act like you have this in the bag already.”

“This would be a lot easier to discuss if I actually knew who it was I’m trying to bag.”

“In due time! And don’t use that phrasing when we’re filming, okay? She’s a princess ,” Penelope said, enunciating the word dramatically. “Anyway, your goal tonight is going to be an uninterrupted conversation with plenty of eye contact, and a heartfelt, sincere compliment. Do not kiss her – she may love it, but you’ll come on as too strong or too possessive with the viewers. They need to be on your side too. Absolutely, under no circumstances, will you read any poetry, sing any songs, play any instruments, or start any fights with the other men. Got it?”

“You realize how insane this all sounds, right?” Colin rubbed a hand to the back of his head, his guard dropping a little more to reveal his overwhelm. 

Penelope’s chest tightened slightly; she had never seen Colin expose any kind of insecurity in front of her. He had always exuded confidence and self-assuredness; for him to let on any kind of nervousness was really remarkable. 

She felt for him. 

Without thinking, she leaned forward and rested a gentle hand on his knee.

“I know. It’s insane. But we are going to navigate this insanity together, okay?” Pen gave his knee a squeeze. “No matter what, you can always trust that I will be on your side throughout this entire journey. You’ve got me.”

Colin gave her a half smile. “Thanks, Pen. I’ll try to make you proud.”

Damn it, heart. Don’t you dare swoon.

“I know you will,” Pen said.

With a start, she realized she still had her hand on his knee. She jumped back, removing it and clearing her throat as an attempted distraction. 

“Anyway,” she swallowed, “let’s switch gears. Time to talk about your outfit for tonight …”

Chapter Text

“Marina is a dream,” Cressida leaned into Penelope to whisper, “but I worry she is way too smart for any of these suitors.”

Pen glanced over at this season’s Princess as she stood assuredly at the entrance of the show’s extravagant mansion set. Marina was stunning in a sparkling rose pink evening gown; like a seasoned professional, she closed her eyes with a calm smile as makeup artists blended highlighter on her cheeks and gently adjusted her gorgeous dark-brown coils to rest perfectly on the top of her shoulders. Despite having already met 16 of the eligible suitors, she was tireless and composed (a far cry from the previous season, when they had to take a three-hour break for the lead at the same point in the night).

“She is the total package,” Cressida said proudly. “Who could possibly match up?”

“Well, she doesn’t need a forever-match,” Tilley said from behind them both, taking the last drag of a cigarette and tossing it to the ground. “Just one that is legitimate-seeming enough for our audience to be satisfied. Sounds like a job for a prince; at least, a prince five generations removed.”

“Still think Freddie Friedrich is a top contender?” Penelope raised an eyebrow.

“A top dumbass,” Tilley laughed. “But probably a notch above the least interesting sibling in a family famous for being rich. I still don’t see why getting a brother from the D-list Kardashians was such a win.”

A white van slowed to a stop in front of them, its door rolling open to reveal a slightly frazzled-looking Brimsley, breathing an exhausted, “ready to do this one last time?”

The producers traveled back to the contestants’ hotel, prepared to pick up the final round of suitors. Pen’s worn-out white sneakers squeaked horribly on the hotel’s cheap linoleum floor, announcing the producers’ entrance loudly to the three suitors who waited there, pacing nervously, hands in their pockets, reciting practiced lines to hopefully woo their princess. Glancing past them, she scanned the area for her final suitor. 

“Where the hell is he?” she muttered under her breath. 

Alice stepped beside her, laughing as she pointed: “Better go collect your Bridgerton.”

Following Alice’s gesture, Pen’s eyes fell on Colin, his towering frame bent awkwardly over the front desk counter, craning his neck to stare at a small television screen displaying a football match. With an enthusiastic cheer, he high-fived the front desk clerk as the game announcer celebrated a goal. 

Pen’s eyes scanned over to his other hand: Is he seriously eating a vending machine honey bun right now? 

She marched away from Alice and Will’s snickers and headed to the counter, folding her arms tightly across her chest as she felt her cheeks flush. 

“Colin Bridgerton,” she announced as she approached him, “we need to go. Now.”

“Pen! Shit. Dante, it’s been a pleasure,” he said, fist bumping the clerk with one hand and popping the last bite of honey bun into his mouth with the other before crinkling the wrapper in his fist. “You don’t happen to have a trash can back there, do you?”

 “ Now , Colin,” Penelope sterned, grabbing his elbow and pulling him toward the front door. “You know we have craft service at the mansion, right?”

“Very cool. That honey bun wasn’t nearly enough,” he grinned.

“Just a reminder that you’re supposed to be impressing a princess tonight, not just filling your stomach.”

“Pen, do not worry,” Colin said, waving a hand up and down the front of his body. “I’m absolutely the best dressed guy I’ve seen all night. That’s a big part of a first impression, right?”

Penelope inspected Colin’s outfit, recognizing that this single suit probably cost more than her entire wardrobe combined. He was right, though; he looked fantastic. His royal blue tailored blazer hugged his shoulders and torso attractively, accentuating the fitness of both. His matching blue slacks emphasized his long, lean legs and somehow made him appear even taller, especially next to Pen. She found herself eye-to-eye with his pocket square which she, without even thinking, reached out to adjust, letting her fingertips linger for just a second on his chest.

“You look great,” she said kindly, patting the square before letting her arm drop to her side. “Just promise me you will double check yourself for leftover loose honey bun sugar before you get out to meet Marina.”

“If you insist,” Colin said, and Pen recognized the playful sparkle in his eyes that had once captivated her so completely.

Leading him to the van, they took their seats in the front as Pen’s fellow producers huddled with their suitors in the other rows. Pen and Colin leaned low, their heads close, as they reviewed his strategy for impressing Marina.

“Remember – keep the introduction short,” Pen advised. “Leave a little tidbit of information that makes her want to hear more. Then, try to snag a few minutes of her time a little later on – not too much later, though. Did you get the profile for her?”

“Yeah; it was slipped under my door this morning. I saw she’s a family lawyer, so I was thinking about talking about the joy of being in a close family with her?” Colin looked earnestly at her, clearly seeking her approval. “Is that too cringey?”

“That could work. One of the other top contenders has a lot of siblings too, though.”

“No problem. Easy; I’ll gush about my mom, then.”

Oh, he’s going to connect with her by talking about Violet Bridgerton? The most kindhearted mother on the planet? Unexpectedly, Pen felt a wave of … was it envy? Resentment? Begrudging resignation? She couldn’t quite place it, but whatever it was, it floated up into her chest and settled like a cough she couldn’t loosen from her lungs, thickening every breath.

She hardly had time to register it, however, as the van lurched to a stop at the bottom of the driveway of the mansion. Brimsley pulled open the door and motioned to a shiny black limousine, the vehicle that would deliver the suitors to Marina. Swallowing her strange moment, Penelope reached out to squeeze Colin’s hand.

“You’ve got this. Just be your charming self,” Pen said, rubbing her thumb on the top of Colin’s skin. He looked down at their hands before meeting her gaze with his own, a peculiar look on his face that Penelope couldn’t quite recognize. 

“Thanks, Pen,” he whispered, then climbed out of the van.

After the limo had rounded the corner to ascend the driveway, the producers piled out of the van and crowded around a live monitor, set up and guarded fiercely by director of photography Genevieve Delacroix. Pen watched, her breath thin and her heart racing, as the first suitor exited the limo and greeted Marina, kissing her hand and complimenting her dress, eliciting a sincere smile from the princess. The suitor headed inside the mansion as Marina turned back to the limo, looking hopefully at the door as it opened.

Out stepped Colin, buttoning his jacket before pushing his curls back confidently. Pen held her breath as he walked toward Marina, reaching both hands out to her to grasp her fingertips.

“Hi Marina. I’m Colin.”

It was simple, but coupled with the Bridgerton smile, she could see Marina was charmed.

“Hi Colin,” she said sweetly. “Nervous?”

“Are you?” 

Pen grimaced. Turning a question back on a princess was not her favorite strategy; it could come across as shifty and insincere. To her relief, Marina let out an effervescent laugh.

“Petrified!” she said. Colin laughed with her, giving her hands a squeeze.

“Well, I know we don’t have a lot of time out here, but if you end up feeling nervous in the mansion, come find me. We can take a couple of deep breaths together,” he said coolly. 

This is so fucking corny. What happened to talking about his mom? Pen brought a finger to her temple, trying to discern exactly why she was unnerved by his approach. It was vaguely reminiscent of the first time she had joined in on a game night at the Bridgerton house. She was only 20 years old at the time, and felt completely overwhelmed at the Bridgertons’ loud energy and chaotic competitiveness. She remembered sitting alone, wallowing in regret at accepting Eloise’s invitation, when Colin had taken his seat beside her, patting her knee sympathetically and sweetly encouraging her: “Don’t be nervous. Big breaths. Us Bridgertons are loud, but mostly harmless, even when we’re running in a pack. You’ll fit right in in no time.”

Penelope had instantly melted with relief. 

So, she admitted, she shouldn’t be surprised that Marina seemed to be eating the ‘caring gentleman’ approach up. Colin simply did the whole kind schtick so well. 

“I’ll definitely be looking for you,” Marina nodded. “Make sure you make some time for me, Colin.”

They locked eyes, taking an exaggerated inhale with one another, the breath of their exhale mixed with jittery laughter. Colin turned to enter the doors of the mansion as Marina followed him, even leaning forward slightly to keep staring at him as he entered the mansion.

“Pen! Your boy got the first lingering look of the season! He’s really doing it for her!” Alice whooped from her spot next to Pen, elbowing her in the side. 

“Damn, boring Bridgey might actually give the rest of these dudes a run for their money,” Will added. “You lucked out, Pen.”

Pen let out a solitary, awkward laugh. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Marina looking over her shoulder at Cressida, giving a thumbs up and mouthing clearly: “ I liked him. ”

“Maybe don’t bring up the dead horse to her on the first night,” Pen grimaced.

“Peppercorn. And yes, you’re right. It’s still very raw for me,” Basilio said solemnly. 

Pen patted his shoulder, willing herself to channel just enough empathy to appear sincere. In truth, Pen had very little hope for any of her other suitors to make much of an impact with Marina, especially after watching their awkward introductions to her. Colin was definitely the right suitor to push with her; his charisma had already made a lasting impression.

On the other side of the room, Penelope could see Will talking sternly to a few of the other suitors who had already been dipping heavily into the night’s champagne supply. There was always a fair amount of peacocking and other various ostentatious displays from a room full of alpha males, but the producers were typically keen on trying to manufacture a fight of their own creation rather than try to bust up something messy and un-produced. 

Pen wrapped up her pep talk with Basilio, rushing through a few generic lines of advice as she refocused on Colin, who was having a quiet conversation with Lumley on one of the couches. It didn’t take long for him to look up and lock eyes with her, tilting his head up and looking at her, questioning. She nodded, and he hopped up to join her.

Over by Will, a voice raised up: “ I told him, don’t fucking start with me .” Clearly heated chatter followed as Will patted shoulders, trying his best to settle the tension.

Pen narrowed her eyes as Colin approached.

“Sounds like it’s getting heated over there,” Colin whistled softly.

“Whatever you do, do not get involved with that. That’s a sure fire ticket for elimination either this week or next,” Pen advised. “There’s always going to be a couple of men seeing red every time they see Marina talk to another dude. Don’t get sucked into it.”

“Duly noted,” Colin said. As Pen turned back to look at him, she noticed him gazing down at her intently before saying so low, it was almost under his breath: “And speaking of red, Pen, that shade of lipstick looks really nice on you.”

The compliment came out of left field, hitting Pen like a wayward fast ball striking her directly at the front of her skull. Well, that’s awkward . Pen scrunched her lips and looked at him, clearly perplexed.

“What?” Colin said innocently. “I notice these things.”

“You’re supposed to be noticing Marina’s lipstick,” Pen managed to mumble, trying not to indicate how much her composure had been rattled.

“I will,” he said, his tone reassuring as he looked around Pen. “In fact, I think I see an opening now.”

Penelope followed his gaze, watching Marina as she excused herself from a huddle of gentlemen around her and made a beeline for the bar.

“Go, go, go,” Pen encouraged, gently pushing Colin in Marina’s direction. He made it just ahead of another suitor, coolly grabbing two glasses of champagne off of a tray and handing one to Marina.

Pen ducked into the hallway, finding the open door where Genevieve had set up several monitors for observing. She found the monitor for the camera set up just behind the bar and grabbed a set of headphones, excited to listen in.

“I’m almost ready for those breathing techniques,” Marina said, accepting the champagne and taking a long sip.

“Really? Happy to oblige, but you seem like you’re handling everything with incredible grace,” Colin said.

“It’s a lot,” Marina responded.

“Well, I think I heard that you’re a mom, right? You’re probably used to chaos.”

“That’s true,” Marina nodded. “And pre-tween emotions are honestly worse than toddler tantrums. I feel like I’m about to go through puberty all over again.”

“My own incredible mom somehow managed to navigate eight of us suffering the pains of adolescence,” Colin shook his head, laughing. “Can you imagine?”

“I feel for her. Was your dad much help?”

Penelope squeezed her hands into fists as she saw Colin freeze. She recognized the pained glaze that washed over his eyes; it was the same look any of the Bridgertons got when their father was brought up. 

“For my older two brothers, yes,” Colin said. “I was only ten when he died, so regrettably, I did not have much time to learn from him about navigating the worst of puberty.”

“Oh, Colin. I’m so sorry,” Marina said sincerely.

Pen couldn’t help the gasp escape her lips as Marina reached out to touch his arm. Was that the first physical contact of the season?

“Your mother must be a very strong woman,” Marina said softly. “My husband died six years ago while he was deployed … it was hard enough to raise just one son. I cannot imagine having to raise eight all on my own.”

Colin returned the touch, his fingertips gently grazing the skin above Marina’s elbow. “Don’t sell yourself short. I know a strong mother when I meet one.”

Pen inhaled sharply, goosebumps prickling her skin, as Colin and Marina shared the moment together, looking deeply into each other’s eyes …

“Damn! Surprisingly slick!”

Pen jumped at the voice behind her. Tilley looked over her shoulder at the monitor, lazily chewing a piece of white gum. 

“Don’t you have your own suitors to manage?” Pen grumbled at her.

“Most of mine are too busy trying to pick a fight with each other to even notice our princess. Ol’ Freddie already chatted with her and gave her a fake rose he plucked from a vase down the hall,” Tilley looked at her fingernails, oozing disinterest, as she rolled the gum forward and back in her mouth. “I thought Freddie might have the first impression pin in the bag, but now I’m not so confident. Your Bridgerton seems to be taking this seriously. How did you say you knew him again?”

“Friends with his sister,” Penelope muttered under her breath.

“Good friends? Close?”

“Not exactly. I mean, not anymore. Look, I really don’t have time to talk about this, okay?” Pen glanced back at the monitor, frustrated that she had missed the last few seconds of Colin and Marina chatting. Colin was already walking away from the bar, adjusting his jacket and smiling to himself.

“Touchy. Well, keep your head on a swivel, Featherington. I wouldn’t put it past Cressida to try to sabotage whichever suitor starts to come out on top. She’ll say it’s for the sake of great television, but you and I both know it’s because she’s a pain in the ass.”

“Thanks,” Pen replied quickly. She set the headphones down and hurried out of the room and back to Colin.

“Hey!” he said to her as she slid next to him. “Pen, I think … I think that went really well, actually. We kind of had a little bonding moment for a second there.”

“I saw! Very nice, Bridgerton,” Pen said, trying her hardest to sound pleased with him and not completely confused as to why she was having such strange feelings about watching him flirt with Marina.

“Aww. Pen’s proud of me.” Colin looked to the ceiling and grasped a hand to his heart. Looking back at her, he pouted and pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. 

She couldn’t help but laugh.

Jesus. If he’d just stop being so fucking charasmatic …

Pen’s thoughts were interrupted as Cressida approached them both.

“Pen, we need Colin outside for a minute with Marina,” Cressida said, clearly unable to hide the look of disbelief on her face. “Let me make sure she’s ready on the bench out there and that we have her isolated from the other suitors; then you can bring him out.”

As Cressida spun on her heels and floated away, Colin looked at Pen, puzzled.

“What do you think that’s for?”

“You’re getting pinned,” Penelope nodded, lips curling just ever-so-slightly downward.

“Oh. That first impression thing?”

“Yup. You can relax the rest of the night, Colin; you’re automatically through to the next round.”

Smiling ear-to-ear, Colin wrapped his arms around Penelope, pulling her into a tight hug and lifting her feet off of the floor. Pen couldn’t hold back a tiny squeal that escaped her as the pressure from his arms pushed into her back.

“This is good, right?” Colin set her down and pulled away from her, keeping his grip on her shoulders, his smile absolutely glowing. “Good for both of us? This is a my-success-is-your-success kind of thing, right?”

“Sort of,” Pen said shakily, returning his smile as best as she could. She looked behind Colin’s shoulder to see Cressida staring at her, clearly annoyed, tapping her wrist with her index finger as if she was pointing to a watch. “Go on outside, Colin. Act surprised that you’re getting this.”

“Damn. This is so cool, huh? Flawless plan; flawless execution. Just a perfect team effort, Pen,” he said, flashing her one last dazzling smile before turning to head outside.

Pen watched intently through the window as Colin headed outside. She saw Marina lift her head, pursing her lips happily as she patted the seat of the bench next to her. The two talked for a few moments before Marina pulled out the pin, showing it off to him like it was some sort of holy relic. Calmly, she leaned toward him and pinned it to his lapel, taking a moment to straighten both sides of his jacket before returning her hands to her lap. Colin looked down at it proudly.

Penelope’s feet felt sunken into the floor. Action seemed to whirl around her while she was still, rooted to her spot, sinking.

Brimsley breezed past her, taking just a moment to hold out his fist for a bump. Pen moved a hand that didn’t feel like her own up to meet his.

“Nice work, Pen,” he smiled; his words seemed like they were coming out in slow motion; molasses dripping from a spoon. “You’re off to the best start out of everybody.”

Brimsley continued on. Like an apparition, Pen felt another body move next to her. 

“Good work, Featherington.”

Danbury placed a hand on her shoulder; the weight of it set Pen in stone. Pen could feel her nods of approval.

“You just might get to witness a love story, this season, Pen,” Danbury continued. “A love story of your own crafting.”

The words hung in the air like hovering mosquitos, waiting for the perfect moment to bite.

And Pen was left wondering … why did the thought of a love story leave her feeling so sick?

The Airbnb was frigid; Pen had managed to find a blanket stuffed high in a closet, but it wasn’t enough to warm the chill she felt deep in the marrow of her bones. Pulling the blanket high up to her chin, she stopped scrolling on her phone for a moment, squeezing her eyes shut. She had been swiping her thumb for at least five full minutes without registering a single thing she was reading.

The image of Colin reaching out to touch Marina’s arm was burned into her mind’s eye, replaying over and over again.

Why did this bother her so much?

Thinking back to their conversation, Pen marveled at Colin’s effortless navigation from the painful topic of his father’s death to a compliment on Marina’s role as a mother. He was right about being able to recognize strong mothers; Violet Bridgerton was perhaps the most organized, resilient, loving mother Pen had ever known. A pretty far cry from Portia Featherington, if Pen was being honest with herself.

Pen bit her lip; speaking of her mother, it had been quite a while since she had spoken to her. It was unusual for Portia to let a week slip by without bothering Pen. Curiosity piqued, Pen tapped over to her contact list and pressed on ‘Mama.’

Two rings; then a rather unenthusiastic, “hello?”

“Hey, Mama,” Pen sighed. 

“Hello, Penelope. I didn’t call because I figured you had started work on your little show.” Although Portia often sounded a little distracted while talking to Pen, her voice now seemed more distant than ever.

“No worries,” Pen said. “Is everything okay with you?”

A thick sigh carried through the phone, sounding scratchy as it clipped over the receiver.

“No, Pen. It’s not okay.”

Pen’s pulse started firing up. “Something serious?”

“Penelope,” her mother sounded more emotional now, the pitch of her voice rising, “we are in trouble. We’re going to lose our home.”

“What?” Pen sat up, bringing a hand to the top of her night shirt, clutching the fabric nervously.

“The debt … well, you remember we have had some financial troubles ever since your father died, yes? I just can't seem to get your sisters or brothers-in-law to contribute what they need to, although they have no problem bleeding me dry anytime they would like. And now, well … I just can’t catch up with everything. We’ve fallen behind in payments, and now the bank is saying–”

“--Mama, how much do you need?” Pen interrupted.

“Oh, Pen. I could never ask you for money. You’re my daughter ,” Portia said, dropping another exaggerated sigh.

“But let’s say you did ask me. How much would you need to borrow?”

A beat of silence passed between them before Portia muttered: “$50,000.”

Pen inhaled. “Okay. There’s a bonus this season; maybe if I get it, I can try to help.”

“Penelope!” Portia’s voice suddenly popped over with bubbliness. “You’d really do that?”

“I can’t make any promises that I would get this, but … I don’t want you to lose your home, Mama.”

“You are a dream daughter, Penelope. Just the best girl I could have ever asked for. I am so excited for you to move back home with me one day and take care of me in my old age. Thank your lucky stars you aren’t beholden to an idiot the way your sisters are!”

Pen went silent.

“Anyway, if you think you might be able to help out with even a little bit of that debt, we just might be able to squeak our way out of this mess.”

“I’ll do everything I can, Mama,” Pen said as earnestly as she could.

They said their farewells, and Pen went back to scrolling; however, instead of dissociating, she started to scheme.

She had to win. As much as her mother might annoy her, she was still her mother – Pen couldn’t very well see her thrown out onto the streets. Besides, the family home had deep sentimental value for Pen; watching it end up in someone else’s hands was absolutely unimaginable.

Penelope straightened her shoulders and opened up her Notes app, navigating quickly to her faithful old note, “IDEAS.”

After all, there was only one viable solution: Pen had to make sure Marina Thompson fell in love with Colin Bridgerton.

Chapter Text

“This has been the shittiest birthday ever,” Eloise huffed as she stormed into their room, falling backwards onto her bed and blowing a tuft of thick brown hair out of her face. “Literally, those muffins you bought for us have been the only highlight of the day.”

“Oh no, El! Why is it so shitty?” Penelope was snuggled under her blanket on her own bed, idly twisting the ends of her red hair with one hand while holding a romance novel with the other.

“Just got the rejection email,” Eloise groaned.

“Rejection email?”

“Yeah,” Eloise rolled over onto her side, putting a hand up to support her head. “From the Out Of Her Shadow program. I’m guessing you got yours too?”

Eloise and Penelope had both applied for the highly competitive summer program – part service-learning and part internship, it paired teenagers with powerful women such as business moguls, top movers in tech, and glass ceiling-shattering politicians for six weeks of mentorship and work experience. As their school’s youngest applicants, Eloise and Pen were not banking on being accepted to the program – but still, it was fun to dream.

“You already heard back?” Pen set her book down, sitting up to reach for her laptop. “I haven’t checked my email since this morning.”

“Yup. I’m sure your rejection is in there too, Pen,” Eloise sighed. “Don’t feel bad; I knew it was a longshot for both of us since we were such young applicants. I feel a little guilty for convincing you to apply. Still, how amazing would it have been? Especially if we would have both ended up somewhere really cool like New York, or Rome, or anywhere where we could have had an adventure.”

Pen’s fingers clicked on her keyboard, logging into her email and scanning her inbox.

Eloise sat up a little straighter. “You see it in there?”

“I see an email from them,” Penelope said, clicking on it and reading intently.

She hesitated, swallowing her first reaction to jump up and scream.

“Pen?” Eloise’s voice was uncharacteristically meek. “Did you get the email?”

Pen looked up from her laptop screen, her eyebrows furrowed, trying to fight the natural urge to look sympathetic as she knew it would infuriate Eloise.

“I was accepted,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m shadowing a television executive in L.A.”

Eloise brought a hand to her mouth, inhaling deeply and closing her eyes. The heavy pause that hung between them seemed to last for ages. When Eloise finally opened her eyes again, Pen could see they were bloodshot, lashes blinking furiously as she held back tears.

“I’m happy for you, Pen,” Eloise finally said, her voice slightly shaky.

“El, I’m sorry–”

“--Nope, nope, don’t apologize out of pity,” El held up a hand and stood from her bed. “Damn. L.A., huh? That will really be great for you. Pen.”

“It’d be better if you were coming too,” Penelope said quietly.

Eloise rolled her eyes. “Just give me a couple of days to not be annoyed about this, okay? Then I’ll really celebrate with you.”

“There’s only one person we need to celebrate today,” Pen said, grabbing Eloise’s hand. “Let’s turn the shittiest birthday around into the greatest birthday ever. I, for one, am absolutely ecstatic about the Bridgerton pool party tonight. What’s the final count of Bridgey siblings?”

“They’re all going to be there,” Eloise smiled, swinging Pen’s hand back and forth. “First time we’ve all been together for a birthday in two years.”

“That’s amazing, El!” Pen said cheerfully. “Colin still coming to pick us up at 6?”

“Yup. I know you two like the same music and all, but I’m in charge of the aux during the ride tonight. Birthday girl privileges,” Eloise teased. 

“It’s your night,” Pen squeezed her friend’s hand.

Penelope walked into the meeting room just as Danbury was pulling headshots off the wall, tossing them unceremoniously into the tiny gray trash can by the door.

“Down to twelve,” Brimsley said as Pen slid into a chair next to him. “How many of yours survived the cuts last night?”

“Just three,” Pen replied. “And Basilio and Lumley are probably not going to make it past this next round. There’s just nothing very remarkable about either of them.”

“But your pal made quite the impression,” Brimsley said, raising his eyebrows. “Not just with Marina, too. I was checking out the show’s Instagram page, and a ton of his fan girlies were commenting on the post about the first episode. Feeling better about that conflict of interest?”

Penelope shrugged. “He’s easy to work with, so that’s a plus. But to be honest, there’s a little bit of a back story that I’m trying to avoid with him. It’s best to just focus on the show.”

A quick rap-rap-rap of Danbury’s cane thundering on the floor brought the room to attention.

“Adequate work, all,” she said. “We’ve set a great groundwork for the rest of the season. A big congratulations to Will for stopping wayward fisticuffs from ruining our first night – thanks to him, we have identified our biggest hothead – that Fife gentleman. We can use that to our advantage later when we need to create some drama.”

Polite applause rang through the room as Will waved his hand in a silly flourish, bowing the top of his head down.

“And,” Danbury settled her eyes on Pen, “congrats to Miss Featherington for helping a not-so-boring Bridgerton win the first impression pin. I hear our social media audience is especially excited to see his future interactions with our princess.”

Another round of polite applause; Penelope smiled awkwardly and tried to duck her head slightly to deflect the attention. 

“We have a busy night tonight, so you’ll want to check in on all of your suitors as soon as you can this morning. The talent show is always a favorite for our audience, and I’m looking forward to seeing the best – and worst – talents your gentlemen have as they try to woo our princess.”

“And she will not be easily wooed,” Cressida cut in.

Danbury continued, rattling off a whirlwind of instructions: “Tilley, let’s encourage Fife to heckle a few of the weak links – maybe Pen’s other two men. Alice, see if you can talk Samadani into standing up for the underdogs; we’ll see if Marina likes a hero. Will, that environmentalist is a dud on camera; see if you can engineer an embarrassing moment or something comedic so he might make us laugh. Penelope, keep the focus on Bridgerton’s charm. Nothing over-the-top for his talent; we want him to be moving in the middle of the pack this week so he is not caught up in any of the drama we’ll be hoping for.”

“Over-the-top?” Tilley burst into laughter. “I’m not sure how that could possibly happen. Is swiping a credit card a talent? Or is he going to impress Marina with his Instagram captioning skills?”

Pen fumed, hesitating on an appropriate response, only to be surprised to hear Cressida’s voice intervene: “Marina could not stop talking about Colin in our meeting after filming last night. Something about him was really intriguing for her. Make fun of him all you want, Tilley, but it’s his game to lose at this point.”

The room hushed; Brimsley gave Penelope a supportive nudge in the leg with his foot.

“One more note,” Danbury said, moving on, “Charlotte might be dropping by your one-on-ones with your gentlemen to get to know them a little better. You all know how to handle her; make sure she is entertained. Alright, my dears; get to work. Remember why you’re working in television: you love it.”

Everyone groaned in response.

Penelope leaned forward to tap Cressida’s shoulder.

“Hey, thank you for that,” she said earnestly. 

Cressida shrugged. “It’s the truth. Marina’s into him; at least, for now she is.”

Penelope slid her tongue over her teeth anxiously. This should be good news; she was on the right track to producing a victorious suitor and winning the season bonus from Charlotte. Pen was the quintessential overachiever; she should be pleased as punch things were going so well for her. Why was it so difficult to get excited about this?

“Morning, Pen,” Colin smiled as Reynolds led him into the room. He took his seat quickly and leaned back, clearly basking in his victory from the night before.

“Feeling good?” Pen raised an eyebrow.

“Feeling great ,” Colin said confidently. “What’s on our agenda for today?”

“Glad you asked, because we really need to plan this one out,” Pen forced herself to look away from Colin and down at her notes. “Tonight you’ll be competing against all of the other gentlemen in a talent show. Now, I know you Bridgerton kids took three thousand different lessons as kids in every sport and art form known to mankind, but I have been absolutely racking my brain trying to remember which one was your favorite.”

“None of them, really,” Colin made a face. “Maybe fencing? Can’t really do that one without equipment, I suppose.”

Pen tapped a pen on her mouth thoughtfully. “Are you still writing? I know a couple of the guys will write poems, but maybe you could pen a nice essay or something?”

“An essay? Is this English class?”

Pen grimaced. “Maybe you could … take off your shirt?”

“Are you saying you think that’s something Marina would like to see?” Colin said, rubbing a hand along his chin as gaze drilled into Pen. “Why’s that?”

“Colin,” Pen said plainly; she could feel her cheeks getting hot with flush as she shook her head incredulously.

“Just a question.”

“... I think you know why I’m suggesting it, but I’m not going to say it out loud,” Pen said, looking back down at her notes.

“I see,” Colin smirked.  “You have so little faith in me, you’re suggesting I resort to a thirst trap.” 

“No! I have plenty of faith in you. And it’s not a thirst trap – well, it’s just something for the audience … and not because I’m saying you look good, but … I mean, you look fine …  ugh,” Pen threw her head back to stare at the ceiling, completely flustered. 

“She thinks I look fine!” Colin clutched his hand to his heart as he did the night before, wiping away his fake tear. 

“Colin.”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” Colin laughed. “Anyway, do not worry about the talent show, Pen. I’ve got this. I’m going to tell my joke.”

“... your joke?” Pen stared at him in disbelief for a moment, then rolled her eyes. “Oh no. You don’t mean that joke, do you?”

“The very one,” Colin nodded proudly. “My joke.”

“You have been telling that joke since you were 16-years-old, Colin.”

“I know. It’s my joke. And actually, I’ve been telling it since I was 12.”

“But it’s fucking terrible,” Pen said, not bothering to hold back a grimace.

“Ouch,” Colin looked to the ceiling, hand on his heart again. “She hates my joke.”

“It’s not even a joke you made up, Colin.” Pen’s desperation was obvious; eyes pleading. “I don’t see how you can keep getting away with calling it your joke. There isn’t anything else you can do?”

“It’s a talent show, and I want to show off my talent,” Colin stated matter-of-factly.

Charlotte’s voice popped up from behind Pen: “I’d like to hear this joke.”

Penelope awkwardly and suddenly stood up from her chair at the sound of Charlotte’s voice, surprising even herself. 

“Oh, Colin,” she gestured behind her, “this is Charlotte Strelitz, the creator of Princess Seeking Prince .”

Colin rose from his chair as Charlotte breezed past Penelope, holding out her hand demurely. Ever the gentleman, Colin took it and brushed his lips against it in a kiss.

“You didn’t tell me I’d be in the presence of greatness today, Pen,” Colin said slyly. 

“I wouldn’t say flattery will get you everywhere, but when you look the way you do, Mr. Bridgerton, it’ll certainly get you into at least a few of the rooms you’d like to see,” Charlotte said, her voice dripping like honey. “Now, let me hear this joke before I decide whether or not we’ll go with your idea or Penelope’s.”

“Excuse me,” Pen huffed, jumping up from her seat and practically bolting out of the room. 

Shutting the door behind her, she almost ran directly into Brimsley, who stood like a stone statue flanking one side of the entryway. She grabbed the sleeve of his jacket to spin him towards her, her eyes wide with worry.

“How long had she been in the room?”

“Charlotte?” Brimsley exhaled, counting under his breath. “Maybe … three minutes?”

“Shit. Shit . I didn’t want her to see us talking without me knowing. I needed to prep Colin for how to act in front of her.”

“Why? What’s the matter, Pen?”

“It’s just,” Pen let go of Brimsley, bringing her hands to her head and sliding them anxiously down her neck, “the way Colin talks to me sometimes. It borders on … almost flirting? I don’t know how to describe it.”

Brimsley shrugged. “You’re literally describing the majority of the dudes on this show. They’re a bunch of fuckboys. All they do is flirt with every woman in their presence. Hell, Tilley usually comes on stronger to them in response.”

“Colin’s not a fuckboy,” Pen immediately retorted. “It’s different with him.”

“You’re being defensive yet again about this man,” Brimsley tsked. “I’ve looked at his Instagram. Actually, I’ve looked at it probably way more than I should have in the last few days. He’s a fuckboy, Pen.”

“I swear to you, he isn’t. And this isn’t just innocent flirting, it’s … well, like I said, there’s kind of a strange backstory …”

Brimsley gently took Pen’s shoulders in his hands. “Penelope, you know I love you, but the only thing that’s strange right now is the way you’re acting. Again, I say this out of love.”

Penelope inhaled, trying to fill the deepest part of her lungs with enough breath to refocus. “You’re right, Brimsley. I’m not sure why Colin has me so on edge right now.”

“Don’t let him get to you,” Brimsley said, giving her a light punch on the shoulder. “Get back in there before Charlotte is producing him instead of you.”

Penelope nodded, then turned to open the door, hoping to slide back in unnoticed. As she entered, Charlotte was bent over at the waist, hands on her knees, laughing hysterically as Colin looked on with the biggest grin she’d seen him don all season. He looked over at Pen pridefully and gestured silently toward Charlotte.
“My joke,” he mouthed.

“Oh, my God,” Charlotte said, regaining composure as she still tried to hold back a few chuckles, “that was absolutely dreadful.”

“I aim to please,” Colin said drolly.

“You have enough charisma to pull off most anything, I’d imagine,” Charlotte said approvingly. “Keep it up, Bridgerton.”

Colin nodded, clearly absolutely tickled pink at himself. Charlotte started to make her way back towards the door, but stopped briefly next to Penelope, bending her head in and speaking so low, there was no way that Colin could have overheard her.

“I know chemistry when I see it,” Charlotte hissed through her polite, put-upon smile. “Make sure you both keep it in your pants, Featherington. I don’t have the patience for an off-camera scandal this season.”

Pen wanted to vomit; instead, she choked out a simple, sheepish, “yes, ma’am.”

“As the earth heats up, don’t be afraid to be edgy /

Just fill up your plate with a bunch of green veggies.”

The entire room jumped to grab their ears as feedback squealed through the speakers.  Alfred Debling stood with his hand raised awkwardly; the microphone he dropped rolled toward the edge of the stage before Reynolds ducked to run out and grab it.

“The flow,” Alice gritted her teeth as she whispered to the other producers from their seats in the theater’s soundbooth. “I’m afraid it was absolutely fucking terrible.”

“Are you sure there was a flow?” Will buried his face in his hands. “I think that was more like a sputtering leak of cringe. I’m not sure how I’m going to help him recover from that.”

In the audience, Fife egged on several of his fellow suitors to boo Debling while Marina clapped courteously, clearly trying but failing to hide a look of secondhand embarrassment. Pen craned her neck to see if she could spot Colin, hoping to note his response to the teasing, but he was hidden in the darkness of the theater’s house.

“Who’s up next?” Danbury looked at a clipboard. “Ahh, Freddie Friedrich.”

“He’s going to smash this,” Tilley said happily. “A cake walk. He’ll get the talent show winner pin tonight for sure.”

Freddie Friedrich’s name was announced over the theater’s speaker, and a dirty blonde head popped up out of the audience. Walking toward the stage, he paused for a moment in front of Marina’s seat, holding out a hand.

“A dance, my lady?”

The hoots and laughter from the men turned to cheers as Marina placed her hand in Freddie’s, stepping carefully in her tall wedge sandals as Freddie led her to the stage.

“Put this hand on my shoulder … yes … now this one in my hand.” Freddie gently touched Marina’s arms and hands, putting them where he wanted as he molded her into a perfect ballroom frame.

“I think I see where this is going. Hold on,” Marina smiled at him, then kicked her wedges offstage behind her to the cheers of the suitors. “I totally have two left feet, so don’t judge me.”

“Nonsense. Everyone can dance,” Freddie said. 

Patient and encouraging, he led her through several simple rounds of a box step, only stopping once to lift her chin away from looking at her feet and up to look into his eyes. He spun her around in a few circles under his arm before turning her to face out to the audience. She grinned and unpretentiously curtseyed as the men burst into thunderous applause, some of them jumping out of their seats.

“How about that? That Dancing with the Stars shit always goes over well,” Tilley leaned back, her hands lacing into her hair and resting behind her head.

“Prince Charming himself!” Danbury declared. “Okay, Penelope; Bridgerton is next. What interesting talent is he bringing to the table?”

Pen’s shoulders slumped. “A joke.”

“A comedy routine?”

“Nope. No routine. One joke.” Pen brought her hand to her forehead, sighing deeply.

“One joke,” Danbury repeated. “And you thought this was good television because …?”

“Charlotte liked it,” Pen offered up. 

“Charlotte thinks home videos of kids hitting their dads in the nuts are funny,” Alice piped up.

“ That’s just because she’s sadistic,” Tilley chimed in. “God knows what her actual sense of humor is like.”

Danbury hushed them as Colin jogged up the stairs to the stage and headed to the microphone, clearly brimming with confidence.

“Alright, Marina,” he said, pulling the microphone off the stand and bringing it to his lips, his smile dazzling. “No singing or rapping tonight, but I am sure I am going to make you laugh. The joke I’m about to tell you holds a lot of significance in my life. It’s a joke that has been with me since my days as a youngster; it’s seen me through good times and bad. It might possibly be the greatest joke you’ve ever heard. I only ask that you hold your applause until the end, okay?”

Marina nodded, her lips pursing in eager anticipation.

“Okay, picture this,” he said, looking over the audience to the back of the house, his voice cool and assured. “There once was a bear who absolutely loved honey. He ate it every single day for breakfast, lunch, and dinner – and, being a very big bear, he had a very big appetite, so he ate quite a bit at each meal. One day, he opened his big bear cupboards only to find his honey supply had dwindled down to nothing. His enormous stomach growling, he climbed into his car, just barely squeezing all of his fur and chub into the tiny seat. 

“He drove to the store and parked in a parking lot at the far back; after all, he needed a lot of room to get out, being so big. He just barely fit through the front door of the store. Grabbing a cart from a long line of them by the front door, he headed toward the back of the store where the honey was, opting to take the largest aisles he could since his massive frame took up so much space. 

“Finally, he rounded the corner and there, shining magnificently on the shelf, were the jars of honey. Lifting an enormous paw up, he started swiping the honey into his cart, taking as much care as he could not to damage any of the jars under big, powerful grasp. Having filled up the cart as much as he could, he headed back to the front of the store, again taking the most spacious aisles that could accommodate his staggering frame.

“At the front of the store, the cashier looked up at him as he got into his line, absolutely flabbergasted at his size. He started to scan the jars of honey as the bear looked on, towering over the conveyor belt. Finally, the cashier scanned the last jar of honey and placed it into a bag, which the bear lifted easily with his huge arms, placing it into his cart as gingerly as possible. After a few more presses of some buttons on the cash register, the cashier looked the bear in the eye and asked him, ‘how would you like to pay?’

The bear stopped and thought …”

Colin looked, face deadpan, at Marina. She tilted her head back at him, chuckling awkwardly. A quiet continued to build in the room as the other suitors in the audience looked at each other and back at Colin, who still stood at the edge of the stage, motionless and silent.

“Did he have a stroke or something?” Tilley whispered in the soundbooth.

“No, just wait,” Pen sighed.

Colin still stood silently, one hand in his pocket, the other gripping the microphone. He looked around calmly; he even stared back into the soundbooth as Pen caught his gaze, recognizing the familiar sparkle in his eyes.

“Do we need to pull out one of those cartoon canes to drag him off?” Will said, looking at Penelope.

“It’s coming, I promise. This wait is his favorite part,” Pen replied.

Marina raised an eyebrow at Colin: “Are you okay?” she whispered. 

Colin continued looking back at her; then, finally, he cleared his throat.

“‘I’ll pay by card,’ the bear replied.”

The audience rumbled at Colin finally speaking, exchanging confused looks with one another.

“‘Very well,’ the cashier responded,” Colin continued. “‘But my God, that took you a long time to answer. Why the big pause?’”

Colin looked directly at Marina; Penelope recognized this moment, having seen this scene many times before. She knew he was practically giddy.

“And the bear looked down at his big bear paws and said: ‘Oh, these? I was born with them.’”

Penelope was not sure she had ever seen a television set stunned to complete silence. Everyone stared at Colin – cast, crew, producers all equally dumbstruck by the scene that had just unfolded.

Then, out of the darkness – a laugh.

Marina’s laugh.

She clapped her hands and bit her lip, her chest heaving up and down as her laughter continued, sincere and abundant. She stood and held her clapping hands out to Colin.

“That was so terrible, it was great,” she breathed. Colin placed the microphone back in its stand, took a cheeky bow, and bounded back down the steps to his seat.

“Well, that was decidedly the strangest fucking thing I’ve ever seen on talent show night,” Tilley said. “Nice work, Pen. You’ve got yourself a hot weirdo this season.”

“Yes, Penelope,” Danbury spun around in her chair to look at Pen, her lip turned up in a mixture of confusion and disdain. “What exactly was that?”

“His joke,” Pen shrugged, rubbing a hand to the back of her neck. “He loves it. It’s his ice breaker at every single group activity he ever participates in. I’m honestly surprised he hasn’t told it to the guys in the hotel already.”

“Just pointing out to you all that Marina loved it,” Cressida chimed in with a singsong voice from the back of the booth.

“So she’s into hot weirdos,” Tilley replied. “Quite honestly, she’s got her pick of them this year.”

“Maybe we could try to emphasize the hot moreso than the weird next episode, yes?” Danbury looked directly at Penelope, then around at the rest of the room. “That goes for all of you, to be completely frank. Not our strongest talent show. Let’s break for thirty before pinning; Cress, see what you can do to encourage Marina to reward the dancing lesson.”

“Absolutely,” Cressida replied. The other producers gathered their papers and headed out into the audience, snagging various suitors for notes and feedback. Colin practically lept like a dancer over to Pen, ecstatic.

“See? And you were worried,” he said excitedly as he approached her. “I knew she’d appreciate the perfect joke.”

“Remind me to never take you to a casino. Your gambles make me too nervous,” Pen shook her head. 

“You seem to be forgetting that you laughed just like Marina did when I first told that joke to you,” Colin said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Penelope’s throat felt like it was seizing up, pinching tighter and tighter as she stared at him. She watched as the smile that was still dancing on Colin’s lips began to slip away; instead, his lips parted slightly, then clamped back shut. The corners of his eyes narrowed and turned downward as his pupils pooled, locking with hers. She felt a strange prickling sensation creep up her back as she suddenly became aware of every individual hair on the back of her neck.

“Pen,” he began; he ran his tongue over his lips before closing them again.

“Colin,” she returned, still staring.

Suddenly, she was bumped from behind by a camera person moving a large piece of equipment past them.

“Sorry!” the man blurted out.

Shaking her head out of her spell, she looked back up at Colin.

“Outside. Now. We have, like, twenty minutes left.”

Colin nodded and stepped to the side, allowing Penelope to scoot past him and lead him out a fire exit on the side of the theater. As they stepped outside, the sudden rush of the cold January air hit them immediately, and they both instinctually grabbed their shoulders in an effort to conserve what little warmth they still felt in their torsos; their breath floated out in wispy vapors as they sighed.

She had resolved to lead the conversation; to put an end to whatever it was he kept doing every time he talked with her, but was caught off guard as Colin spoke first, erupting into the tension like a dormant volcano just coming to life.

“We need to talk about the elephant – elephants? – elephants in the room,” Colin began. “I know you have not spoken to Eloise in years, as I had just asked her about you over Christmas–”

“--This isn’t about Eloise, Colin,” Penelope interrupted. “And we don’t need to talk about anything other than the show. That is what we are both here to do. Nothing else.”

“Okay … if not El, can we talk about the two of us? Can you really tell me you’re not harboring unresolved feelings about everything?” Colin shook his head, his tone skeptical. “Why can’t we just talk about this, Pen? Talk about it so we can put it to rest?”

“It was six years ago, Colin. This is the last time we’re going to bring this up, okay? I only want to talk about the show with you. That’s it.”

Colin pushed his hands into his pockets and walked several paces away from Pen, his contempt radiating off of his back as he faced away from her. 

After several moments, he spoke quietly: “Okay. The show. What happens next? Is there a winner of the talent show or something?”

His tone was apathetic. He doesn’t give a shit about this , Pen realized. Now anger was bubbling up in her, steaming just below the surface of her emotions like a pot ready to boil over. This was not the plan – she needed him to win this whole fucking thing. She needed him.

“Yes, there’s a winner. We’ll have an elimination round later tonight, but somebody will get a pin for winning the talent show,” she said coldly before adding indignantly: “Somebody who actually showed off a talent, that is.”

Colin spun around to glare at her. “Who? Who did you all decide is going to win?”

“Cressida is going to push Freddie.”

“I see,” Colin stepped back towards Penelope, his voice still heated. “If you wanted me to do a dancing lesson with her, you should have just told me, Pen.”

Without warning, he reached out and grabbed Pen, pulling her in close to him and wrapping one arm around her back, resting just above the curve of her hips with an open palm. His other hand felt massive as he embraced hers, interlacing his fingers into her own as he pulled them into the center of his chest. With a squeeze, he used his arm to push her head and shoulders forward and into his body. The cold air around them accentuated the heat shared between their bodies, rising like embers still glowing from a long-forgotten and untended fire. While they swayed ever so slightly, as if the breeze was moving them and not the shift of their own feet, Pen realized she was holding her breath without even thinking.

“What are you doing, Colin …” 

It was a statement rather than a question, namely because she was absolutely terrified of how he would answer.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered, his lips grazing the tip of her earlobe as they swayed. “Tell me you have felt absolutely nothing between us these last few days. One word, and I will leave it all be.”

Pen felt Colin’s chin move to sit at her cheekbone, his breath still hot in her ear. An icy January gust whistled past them and he pulled her in just a little closer, arm wrapping tighter around her.

“Colin,” she said so low, she could feel her own voice reverberating and humming off of his chest, “we can’t. I can’t.”

She felt his breath stop and his grip on her hand go limp. He pulled away slowly, eyes downcast. 

Pen felt the winter chill hit back at her with a vengeance, immediately killing off any last remnants of warmth she felt from Colin’s body heat merging with her own.

“I can’t,” she repeated.

“Ask them to put me with another producer,” Colin said, his voice matching the frigidity of the air around them.

Pen stood, utterly helpless. “Okay,” she said.

Colin finally met her gaze, his eyes glistening. “That’s it, then?”

Pen nodded, paralyzed. Colin stuck his hands back into his pockets.

“Alright,” he said. 

He turned and opened the door to the theater, leaving Penelope outside in the January frost, so very cold and so very alone. 

Chapter Text

Bridgerton parties always seemed to start out as classy affairs – catered dinners, too many forks and spoons that Penelope couldn’t keep track of, and imported wines that all tasted the same to her inexperienced palette but, thankfully, did the job in warming her deep in her belly enough to take the edge off of her nervousness. Eventually, like most parties for young people, they would slide into someplace between havoc and debauchery, the scale only determined by exactly how many Bridgertons were present and how much alcohol was being consumed.

Tonight they were outside by the backyard pool, hanging fairy lights and neon pool lights illuminating the water droplets on everyone’s skin as they took turns splashing one another or  being tossed in by one of the Bridgerton brothers. Eloise’s core birthday dinner crowd had expanded into other various hanger-oners – local boys trying to flirt with fresh graduate Daphne Bridgerton, who only had eyes for the aloof Simon Bassett; thin women with impeccable tans who seemed to pop out of nowhere in the hopes of wooing one of the three older Bridgerton brothers. Violet had the youngest two siblings, Hyacinth and Gregory, corralled in their den with a movie playing. She generally turned a blind eye to the parties and wild behavior that sometimes accompanied them, but tonight (likely because Eloise and Francesca were less used to how disorderly their older siblings could be) she was more watchful from her perch by the glass door looking out over the pool, a glass of red wine in her hand.

Penelope would have, honestly, been keen to stay in the den with the younger children. She was never a big drinker or partier, and the overwhelming extroversion of most of the Bridgertons drained her social batteries rather quickly. Eloise had lured her outside with promises of relaxing in the hot tub, however, so Pen claimed her spot at the edge of the tub, a floral wrap covering the bottom half of her bright green swimsuit, her feet dipped in and turning pruney, and her hand wrapped around a hard cider, the coldness of the glass contrasting deliciously with the warmth radiating up from her feet.

Two feet splashed into the water next to hers: “Hey!”

Pen glanced over to see Colin sliding next to her, water droplets hugging his hair and skin, an impossibly gorgeous smile on his face. She had developed a huge crush on him over the last couple of years. She only ever saw him on holidays when she visited the Bridgertons (preferring their fun chaos to her own family’s depressing brand of the same), or when Colin would take a long weekend from university to visit Eloise and Francesca at their boarding school. In between those times, Pen and Colin had developed a friendly camaraderie online – exchanging texts every so often, shooting funny pictures or videos for one another, forwarding articles in DMs that they thought the other might find interesting. They had bonded over their shared love of reading and writing, but Pen also loved hearing Colin’s travel stories. He had already spent three semesters in study abroad programs (leaving his family to question whether he would ever actually spend time on the actual campus of the university he was attending), with plans to do more traveling over summer. His descriptions of the places he experienced and the people he met were like another novel to escape to for Pen; except this time, she could be silly and imagine herself by Colin’s side with each description, reveling in the romantic escapism of it all. 

“Eloise told me about that internship thing,” he said, holding out his drink to hers for a quick clink of a toast. “I’m sorry; guessing you got the big rejection too? It’s just one program, though. Don’t let it discourage you.”

“Oh,” Pen glanced down at her drink, running her thumb along the condensation awkwardly. “Well, actually … I was accepted.”

Colin’s eyes widened. “You were accepted? Really? Pen! That’s amazing!”

He reached over and wrapped his long arms around her, enveloping her into a bear hug. The water on his skin felt cool and slick on Pen’s dry suit. Heated, she resisted the urge to rub a palm into his back or to lace her fingers up into the hair on the back of his head. Heartened by his excitement, she gushed through the details of the program with him; he nodded encouragingly, his eyes sparkling. It seemed as though he was proud of her; excited for her. She didn’t need to touch him; that was enough.

Anthony walked behind them, headed toward the main pool. Colin reached into the hot tub and splashed water up onto his leg, making his older brother stop with a yelp to glance down at them.

“Anthony,” Colin kept one hand wrapped around Penelope’s shoulder and pointed at her with the other, “Penelope Featherington here gets to shadow a Hollywood hotshot executive this summer! It was a super selective program; even El was rejected, and you know what a brainiac she is.”

“Well, hey, Penelope!” Anthony smiled graciously at her. “That’s fantastic news! Come on; that deserves a celebratory shot!”

Anthony reached a hand down to help pull Penelope up to her feet as Colin raced over to the unstable, sticky folding table they were using to hold various liquor bottles and tiny dirty shot glasses. He grabbed a bottle of something amber and pungent, pouring it hastily into a few empty glasses lined up in a row.

“What’s this for?” Benedict leaned away from an attractive blonde bombshell to eyeball the table before looking curiously at Colin.

“Shots for Pen. She scored an amazing internship thing this summer in L.A.”

“Oh, way to go, Pen!” Benedict flashed her a thumbs up as Anthony brought her to the table. “That’s not that ‘shadowing powerful women’ program is it?”

“The very one,” Colin said, then hushed his voice to a loud whisper. “I guess maybe we shouldn’t be too overt about celebrating this with you – don’t want to make El feel bad.”

“Don’t want to make me feel bad about doing celebration shots at my birthday party for a job I didn’t get?” Eloise’s head appeared suddenly over Pen’s shoulder, looking down at the shot glasses. “You boys do realize you’re all loud as fuck after you’ve been drinking, right? I think the whole neighborhood now knows I didn’t get it and Pen did.”

“No sour grapes,” Anthony said, ruffling Eloise’s hair. “You can be happy for your best friend, can’t you?”

Eloise glared at him, then grabbed Pen by the arm to pull her away from the table.

“Ow!” Penelope grabbed her arm as Eloise let it go. “You pulled me kind of rough there.”

“You couldn’t have waited one day? Or made an announcement on Instagram or whatever so I could have chosen to ignore it?” Eloise’s tone was fierce, but her eyes were wrought with hurt. “You had to make it about yourself at my birthday party?”

“No, El, it’s not like that,” Penelope stuttered. “Colin just asked me about it, and–”

“--And you couldn’t help yourself. You just had to brag to him. I know you have had this weird crush on him or whatever, but–”

“--I don’t have a crush on him!” 

“You literally look at him with puppy dog eyes every time he speaks to you,” Eloise shot back.

“It’s not … I don’t …” Penelope’s mind seemed to be stuck in a loop of baseless rejections; she pleaded with it to make some sense of her thoughts so she could comfort her friend.

“Whatever, Pen. Take your shot. Enjoy all the glory.” Eloise stormed past her and headed back toward the house as Pen stared after her.

Penelope walked back toward the shot table; a celebratory shot was the last thing she wanted to participate in now. She glanced back up at the house, where Eloise was next to her mother inside, clearly talking a mile a minute, her arms gesturing wildly before coming to cover her eyes. Violet wrapped her arms around her, pulling her in close as Eloise’s back heaved up and down. Pen realized with a start that this was the first time she had ever seen Eloise cry.

“Don’t worry about her.” Colin’s voice popped into Pen’s ear, a gentle hand coming to rest on her shoulder. “You know El. She’s like a two-year-old … she feels big, but she gets over things quickly. She’ll move past this in an hour, I’ll bet.”

Pen nodded, unconvinced.

“You’ve earned this, Pen,” Colin continued. “Don’t diminish your own accomplishments just because Eloise is being a little bratty about it. You should feel proud because you’re going to be doing a very badass thing. Shit, I’m proud of you.”

Pen looked up at him as he slid a shot glass into her hand.

“You’re proud of me?” The words slipped out of her mouth before she had a chance to reconsider the desperation dripping from them.

“Very proud,” Colin smiled, his voice a little low and husky. “Cheers, Pen.”

He clinked his shot glass to hers, then they both tipped them back. Pen sputtered and coughed from the burn.

“Chaser, chaser,” she managed to choke out as Colin laughed; he handed her back the cider she had been nursing and she sipped it eagerly.

“We need to get you more practice,” Colin teased. “You should come up and visit me at school sometime. Plenty of opportunities for shots there.”

Pen’s brain short-circuited and rewired itself in the span of a second. 

“Hey, you two,” Anthony called from the table. “Those absolutely did not count as Penelope’s celebration shots. Bring those glasses back over here so we can all take one together.”

Colin strolled back to the side of the table and was almost instantly flanked by two unknown women, their manicured fingers lunging for shot glasses as Anthony generously passed them out. Colin reached a long arm back towards Pen, grabbing her hand and pulling her in as he wedged her between himself and the unknown brunette on his left. He snapped a finger at Anthony and pointed at Pen; Anthony obliged and slid a shot glass into her hand.

“To Pen!” Colin called, lifting the shot glass in the air. 

“To Pen!” The partygoers echoed before everyone threw back their glass, laughing and cheering.

Pen tipped hers back, trying to swallow a little more quickly this time in an effort to quell the burn. As her head popped back upright, she glanced at the Bridgerton’s glass door. Violet and Eloise still stood together, rocking, mother gently petting her daughter’s hair.

“Absolutely not,” Danbury said without even looking up from her laptop.

Pen twirled the drawstring from her hoodie in her finger, wrapping it as tightly as she could around her index finger until the skin under it turned white. She cleared her throat, attempting her argument again.

“I just think the conflict of interest thing is not working out for us,” she stammered. “Colin would do great with Alice, and I could take over Samadani …”

“Penelope,” Danbury lowered the laptop screen slightly, staring at her, “did you sleep with this boy or something?”

“What?!” Pen shook her head furiously. “No! Never.”

“Then are you telling me you are not professional enough to separate your personal life from your work life?” Danbury raised an eyebrow.

“Not at all!” Shit . This was tanking fast.

“Because if you’re telling me you can’t handle an Instagram influencer, this might not be the job for you.”

Pen swallowed. “No, no. It’s fine. I’m sorry I brought this up.”

“Penelope, you know this is a destination week. I am trying to make sure an entire cast and crew of people make a 6 a.m. flight tomorrow morning. I do not have time to entertain my most junior producer telling me she suddenly can’t work with the winner of the first impression pin and one of the top contenders to make it to the end.”

Penelope felt even smaller than she normally did. 

“We are all under an enormous amount of stress,” Danbury continued, the tone of her voice almost conveying a sliver of understanding. “That’s why we scheduled a dark day here. Take the night off – grab a glass of wine, watch a movie, order sushi, sleep with no clothes on; I do not care. Get some rest and be ready to produce the hell out of that Bridgerton boy as soon as we land tomorrow.”

Pen nodded, resigned to her fate as she left Danbury’s office.

“I’ve got to admit, the groutfit on your hot weirdo really does it for me,” Tilley whispered to Pen, snacking on a handful of Swedish Fish as they sat in the last row of the plane, watching the remaining eight suitors board. 

Colin had just boarded the plane wearing gray joggers and a gray hoodie pulled up over his head. Giant black headphones covered his ears, and he had yet to take off his sunglasses.

“Really?” Pen muttered, fumbling through her bag to look for a novel. “Because looking at him kind of makes me feel sick.”

“Trouble in paradise? What happened? I was under the impression that you two were … close,” Tilley said, leaning forward to look at Pen more closely.

“She smells blood,” Will warned from two seats over. “Don’t give her any ammo, Penelope.”

“It’s fine,” Pen shook her head. “I just … I think I was letting him take the lead too strongly. Letting him tell that stupid joke was a bad idea. I need to rein him back in.”

“You can’t let them run all over you,” Alice warned. “Remember: you’re the brains behind his entire operation, whether he recognizes that or not.” 

Pen slipped her Airpods into her ears and reclined back, holding up her book in a way that blocked out her prying fellow producers. Their flight to the Maldives would take up most of the day; she was hopeful that between reading and sleeping, she could avoid anyone involved with the show for a blissfully large portion of that time. However, mere seconds after the seatbelt light turned off, Colin was up from his seat and headed down the aisle straight towards Pen.

“Well hello, Big Paws,” Tilley said as he approached.

Colin held up his hands and waved his fingers, smiling facetiously, before turning to Penelope. 

“Can I have a minute with you, Pen?”

“No space on my row,” she said, eyes glued to her book.

Colin looked around. “We have this entire plane to ourselves. There are a ton of empty seats.”

“Fine,” Pen sighed, closing her book, ignoring the smirks shared between her fellow producers as she stood up to follow Colin to an empty row. They sat in two empty seats in the middle of the row and brought their heads low and close, whispering.

“I cannot switch you to another producer,” Penelope opened. “I made the request and was denied.”

“It’s fine, Pen. There is no one I would rather work with,” Colin whispered back.

Pen looked at him curiously.

“I’ve thought this through, and you’re absolutely right. I’ve been inappropriate with you and tried to push a … a conversation you don’t want to have,” Colin inhaled. “I apologize, and I hope you’ll accept.”

“It’s okay,” Pen said slowly. “And I should apologize–”

“--No, no you shouldn’t,” Colin interrupted quickly. “You have done exactly the right thing in this. You’ve tried to get me to shine in front of these other men in order to win the heart of a pretty fantastic woman. And you’ve been doing an excellent job despite my unintended attempts at sabotage.”

Pen’s mind went blank; she looked down at her hands, which seemed to be inexplicably getting colder by the second.

“I’m focused now, Pen,” he said earnestly. “Let’s win this. I want to be the last man standing with Marina at the end.”

“That’s great, Colin,” she said; the words felt thick and chewy in her mouth. 

Colin patted her leg as he stood up. “I won’t annoy you anymore on this flight. Go back and read your book. It was one of my favorite beach reads last summer; I think you’ll enjoy the ending.”

As he returned to his seat, Pen lingered in the empty aisle for a moment. The spot where his hand had been on her leg burned so hot, she half-expected to see her sweatpants singed. Against her better judgment, she allowed her mind to float back to dancing outside the theater; to the feeling of his large hand squeezed shut around her own. And Tilley was right; there was something so frustrating about how goddamn sexy he looked in sweats …

… What are you doing, Pen?

She pinched her leg and stood up, scurrying back to her seat and snatching back her book from Alice, who had picked it up to read the back cover.

“Everything is fine,” Pen grumbled before any of the producers could ask her anything.

“We literally don’t care,” Tilley responded. “You’ve got to learn to not take this job so seriously. Your sanity will thank you.”

At some point, Pen found herself back in the hot tub with a handful of other partygoers and a wayward bottle of tequila that floated from mouth to mouth.

“This is how people get colds,” Penelope had said on her second rotation with the bottle, bringing it to her mouth to drink while trying to avoid the rim. Several splashes of tequila spilled out into the hot tub below.

“Colds? I thought this is how people get herpes,” Benedict warned, grabbing the bottle from Penelope and taking a swig.

“Jesus, you’re disgusting,” Colin said, splashing his brother. 

Pen laughed probably louder than she should have as she sat back on the ledge in the tub, one hand tugging at the top of her yellow swimsuit, trying to pull it a little higher over her chest as it slipped down, hanging loose. It had been a gift from her mother last Christmas, and while she appreciated the gesture, her mom always seemed to buy things two sizes larger than what Pen actually wore.

Benedict and a few of his fangirls pulled themselves out of the hot tub and headed back over to the drink table, leaving Pen and Colin alone. To Pen’s surprise, Colin slid from the opposite side of the hot tub over to where she sat, slithering an arm under the water and behind her.

“I kind of preferred how your swimsuit looked before you adjusted it just now,” he smirked.

Pen’s filter had been disintegrating with each shot, but still, she even surprised herself with her reply: “You mean when my tits were hanging out? I knew I wasn’t crazy. I thought I caught you looking at them.”

“Pen!” Colin threw his head back and laughed. “Are you calling me a pervert?”

“I’m innocent,” Pen said, her fingers flying through the sign of the cross before she brought her hands together in a prayer.

“Are you, now?” Colin floated to be in front of Pen, hands resting on the wall behind her as they flanked her shoulders.

Penelope licked her lips as she stared at him. It was unfair how fucking good he looked – curls falling in his face, eyes shining, muscles in his arms tensing enough so she could see veins protruding as he gripped the concrete wall. She lowered her chin, adjusting her gaze so she looked up at him through fluttering lashes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Colin hissed.

“Like what?” Pen whispered.

“You know,” he shot back, voice low and husky. 

“I really don’t,” she replied, tilting her head to the side

Colin’s breath whistled as he inhaled. “You’re my little sister’s friend. And you’re drunk.”

“I’m not that drunk,” Penelope replied. “And I’m my own person.”

She couldn’t help herself – she reached a hand out and wiped a few beads of water from his cheek with her thumb before letting her fingers trace down his jaw. His gaze dropped down at the water as his throat rumbled softly.

“I told myself I’d never end up in a position like this with you,” he whispered. “Although I have thought about this many, many times.”

“Really?” Pen’s hand lingered on his jaw before slowly snaking to the back of his head, her fingertips tickling their way through his curls as his breath quickened.

“Pretty much anytime you’ve texted me, or sent me a voice note, or liked a post,” Colin continued, “I can picture you doing it. I can just see you sitting there, phone in your cute little hand, thinking about me …”

“I think about you a lot, too,” Pen continued; the filter was almost completely gone at this point. 

Colin groaned and threw his eyes back. “You’re making it really fucking difficult for me to hold back from doing what I want to do, Pen.”

“What do you want to do?”

Colin’s hands moved from the wall as his body pressed closer into hers. His left hand found the back of her head, tilting it up slightly, as his right hand floated down beneath the water to rest on her waist. 

He paused before uttering: “I have your permission for this?”

“Only if you stop talking and just do it,” Pen breathed.

Colin didn’t hesitate – he practically smashed his face into hers, his lips pressing firmly in before parting her own, carving a space for his tongue to dance its way deep into her mouth. They gasped at each other, tongues intertwining and releasing as his hands palmed and squeezed first at her waist, then down to her thighs. She brought her own hand to his stomach, fingertips tracing the lines in his abs, eliciting a guttural moan from deep in his throat.

Suddenly, Pen felt a liquid pouring onto their heads from above. Colin pulled away from her, panting.

“What the fuck, Benedict?”

Benedict doubled over in laughter, holding the tequila bottle he had been pouring from up like a trophy. 

“You both looked like you needed a cold shower,” he sputtered between cackles.

Colin practically lept from the hot tub, taking off after Benedict on foot as they both ignored Anthony’s shouts to stop running near the pool. Benedict made a beeline for the back door, flinging it open as Violet’s warnings to dry off rang out. Penelope watched as Benedict disappeared out of sight into the house, Colin just a few paces behind him. 

Suddenly, she noticed the whispers floating around her.

“Did you see them? In the hot tub?”

“I’m not surprised. She had been eye fucking him all night.”

“His tongue looked like it was practically gagging her.”

Penelope looked back up at the house. The two brothers were back in sight, Colin clearly speaking sternly with Benedict as his hand rested on the back door. Then, both of their heads turned; Eloise popped up behind them. Pen held her breath as she saw Benedict’s mouth moving, his arm gesturing to the pool area before pointing at Colin. Eloise turned her head to stare at Colin, her mouth dropped open. She marched over to him, shoving him aside and flinging the back door open.

“Penelope!” Eloise shouted down at her, her eyes wild. “What the fuck?”

Pen felt Alice elbowing her. “We’ve landed.”

Pen blinked through groggy eyes, her book falling to the floor as she straightened up in her seat. The plane buzzed with anticipation as everyone gathered their things, apparently chatting about the incredible views they spotted just before landing. Destination weeks were never a vacation for anyone – they were always long days piled onto a bunch of jetlagged people trapped in close confines with one another. At the very least, however, most of the cast and crew enjoyed the chance to have a different view outside their windows when they woke up.

The other producers squeezed out of their aisle while Pen continued to get her bearings about her. As she leaned forward to find where her book had fallen onto the floor, a hand reached down ahead of hers to pick it up.

“Get to the end yet?” Colin passed the book back into her hands.

“Not quite yet. Don’t spoil it for me,” Pen smiled, still trying to wake up.

“Don’t you usually read the end first?” 

Penelope was surprised he remembered her reading quirk. “Well … not always anymore. I’m trying to be more comfortable with the uncomfortable.”

Colin raised an eyebrow and started to speak, but clamped his mouth shut; instead, he motioned to the overhead bin.

“Got any bags up here that I can grab for you?”

“You think I could reach high enough to put any up there in the first place?” Pen said snarkily, eliciting a cheerful laugh from Colin.

“You’ve got a point. I never considered how annoying traveling must be for you short girls.”

“The world was made for the tall,” she sighed, slinging the bag she kept at her feet over her shoulder. 

Colin smiled at her, slipping his hands into his pockets and rocking back on his heels.

“So, what happens now that we’re here?”

“We’ll get settled in, then I’ll catch up with you tonight,” Pen said. “We’ll make a game plan for the group date that you’ll all be going on with Marina tomorrow. With eight of you left, we’ll want to make sure to find a way for you to stand out.”

“I’m ready to be whatever you need me to be,” Colin said, scooting to the side to let Pen out into the aisle.

… fuck, don’t phrase it like that. 

“On my birthday, Pen? Really? Did you really need to make the entire night about you?” Eloise shouted as she stormed towards the pool, Colin hot on her heels with a terrified expression on his face.

“Eloise, please,” Penelope begged, although she couldn’t find any words to explain herself as her chest tightened and grew hotter by the second.

“You knew how terrible this day has been. You knew! And you couldn’t put your own selfishness aside for a few hours to be my friend and celebrate my birthday?” Eloise was in Penelope’s face now, her voice growing higher and higher in pitch as her tirade continued. “Do you know how fucking embarrassing it is to be crying in your mom’s arms on your birthday? Shouldn’t my best friend be the one coming to comfort me?”

“You’re right, El,” Penelope stammered.

“But no; instead, you chose to hook up with my brother!” Eloise pointed angrily at Colin, who reached out to grab her hand and press it down.

“That’s not on Pen,” he said. “I was the one that made the first move, El.”

“Oh, fuck off, Colin,” Eloise squeezed her eyes shut and threw her head back, groaning. “I can’t believe the two of you.”

“It just happened so fast, Eloise,” Penelope tried to interject; Eloise groaned louder.

“Is this the whole reason you wanted to come tonight? You just wanted a chance to hook up with him? You truly don’t care about me at all, do you?” Eloise looked at Penelope again, her face twisted with disbelief and hurt. “You’re nothing like the girls he likes to date, just so you know.”

“Eloise!” Colin shouted.

“You’re not,” Eloise continued, ignoring him as she stepped closer to Pen, “so don’t fool yourself into thinking you have a shot with anything deeper when it comes to Colin.”

Eloise, satisfied with her verbal blow, turned and stomped back toward the house. Penelope wished Eloise had just hit her; it wouldn’t have hurt quite so much. She stood on the wet stones next to the pool, the ends of her hair dripping onto the backs of her legs, feeling so exposed that she might as well have been standing there completely naked. She turned her focus to Colin, her eyes pleading.

“I’ll … I’ll go speak with her,” Colin managed to choke out, then rushed after his sister.

“So, there will be a number of similarities to the first night, just with a smaller group of men,” Penelope said, flipping through her notes as she sat face-to-face with Colin, brainstorming on their plan for the evening. “You’ll have another opportunity for some one-on-one time with Marina, but you will need to make the most of it.”

“Got it,” Colin nodded. “Where’s the dinner at?”

“A little place called Reef’s End,” Pen said, circling the restaurant name in her notes.

“Ooh. Great cocktails there,” Colin clapped his hands together. 

“I keep forgetting you’ve been here before,” Pen said thoughtfully.

“And it’s a good thing too. I’ve got the perfect plan for my one-on-one time with Marina. Am I allowed to take her off site just a bit?”

Pen frowned. “Depends. What was your idea?”

“There’s a little cove literally steps away from that restaurant where couples leave seashells with their names written on them. It’s almost completely protected from any currants, so the shells can’t wash away,” Colin said, moving towards the edge of his seat, speaking quickly. “I can take her there, write our names on a shell … super romantic, right?”

Pen blinked several times. She had to hand it to him – this was a great idea.

“I’ll have to double check that there won’t be any issues filming that,” she said, “but it sounds like an amazing idea.”

Colin sat back, smiling widely. “See? Told you I’d come in focused and ready to go.”

“Indeed, you have,” Penelope said; the words poured out of her mouth slowly, hesitantly.

Colin cocked his head to the side like a curious puppy. “Anything wrong, Pen?”

“No, nothing,” she replied, inhaling sharply and looking back down. “I’m excited about this. You’ll be sure to stand out. Let me make a note to remember to bring a Sharpie tonight.”

Penelope padded down the hallway, willing the floorboards not to creak as she stepped on them. Most of the party had dispersed; those who were staying with the Bridgertons that night had retreated to their rooms for pajamas, water, and preemptive ibuprofen. Pen had claimed her guest room not long after Eloise and Colin had disappeared into the house, but now two hours had passed, and she hadn’t seen either of them.

Tiptoeing towards the kitchen, she suddenly heard voices floating through the air, punctuated by long, heavy pauses. She peeked around the corner to see Eloise and Colin standing around the marble kitchen island; Colin was leaning on his elbows against it, eyes downcast, rocking slightly as Eloise stood, fumbling absentmindedly with a bottle of water in her hands. Pen ducked behind the door frame and flattened herself against the wall to stay out of their sight as she listened.

“Well, Mom told me she wouldn’t sleep if she knew her kids were still furious with each other, so I basically had to talk to you,” Eloise said angrily.

“You’re allowed to be furious with me,” Colin replied.

“I sure am. What the fuck were you thinking?” Eloise squished the end of the water bottle in her hand, crunching the plastic loudly. 

“I wasn’t.”

“Obviously,” Eloise said. “On my birthday, though? When I already had such a shitty day? That was incredibly fucked up of both of you, Colin, but you’re supposed to have more sense as my big brother.”

“How many times am I going to need to apologize for this?” Colin said irritably. 

“Until I’m convinced as to a legitimate reason for why you tried to hook up with my best friend.”

“El, look,” Colin sighed, “would you believe me if I told you I was just trying to be nice?”

Pen could feel the color drain from her face.

“Oh, you’re telling me it was a charitable makeout session?” Eloise’s voice dripped with sarcasm. 

“Yeah, I suppose that’s one way to put it. I guess I felt bad that she never, ever talks about dating anyone or anything like that,” Colin continued. “So she said a couple of flirtatious things to me, and I thought, why the hell not? Why not give the girl something to make her happy?”

Penelope’s instinct was to run, or to jump out from the corner and alert them both to her presence. Instead, she was frozen; it was as if she was hooked permanently to the wall behind her, its sturdiness now the only thing keeping her upright anymore.

“Real asshole mentality, Colin. I didn’t know you had that in you,” Eloise said.

“I’m full of surprises,” Colin replied, his voice quiet.

“And I guess I’m not the best judge of character. I didn’t know Penelope had this in her, either,” Eloise said. A pause lingered for a moment before she continued: “Are you sure you aren’t trying to get with her or whatever? I didn’t sign up to be the third wheel for anybody.”

“Look at me,” Colin said. “I have absolutely zero interest in Penelope Featherington.”

The words rung like a gunshot in Pen’s ears. Covering her face in her hands, she bolted down the hall back to her room.

The next morning, after a sleepless night, Penelope was startled to hear Violet Bridgeron’s voice from behind her door: “Penelope, can I come in?”

“Yes, Mrs. Bridgerton,” Pen sniffled, trying to wipe away the smudged makeup from her cheeks.

“Hi, dear,” Violet said, breezing in and sitting at the end of the bed. “I don’t know exactly what all happened after I went to bed, but Colin wanted me to tell you that he was going to take Eloise back to school early today.”
“Oh,” Penelope choked out.

“I’ll pay for a cab to take you back whenever you’re ready. Take your time,” Violet patted Pen’s leg. “Colin also said he would text you later today.”

Penelope stared at a small spot on the hardwood floor, unable to speak.

“Penelope,” Violet said trepidatiously, obviously trying to toe the line between mother and mentor, “Eloise can sometimes speak before she truly thinks, especially when she is hurting. Don’t let a few harsh words determine the course of your friendship. Just give her some time. You know we all think so highly of you, Penelope, and you fit in so well with us. Sometimes I feel like you’ve always been a part of our family. I know both Eloise and Colin care about you deeply.”

The knife twisted further into Pen’s back, but she couldn’t let the kind hearted Violet Bridgerton know.

“Thank you, Mrs. Bridgerton,” she mustered. “Your kindness is something I will never forget.”

By the time Penelope arrived back at school, a note had been hastily taped to her door by the housing staff:

“Your roommate has requested another room assignment. We will assign you a new roommate at the beginning of next term.”

Pen went inside her now half-empty room and dropped her bags on her bed, fishing out her phone to see one notification from Colin.

“Hey Pen – I just wanted to let you know, about last night–”

Pen closed her eyes. She breathed. Then she opened them and swiped furiously, deleting her entire conversation history with Colin as fast as she could, refusing to read the rest of his text.

Her ties to the Bridgertons were officially severed. From that day forward, she decided she would have to return the sentiment. She became determined to have absolutely zero interest in Colin Bridgerton.

Chapter Text

“I heard Genevieve has framed some really beautiful shots in that little seashell cove place,” Brimsley said, passing a coffee off to Penelope as he walked by her. “Also, the only extra flavor options they had were vanilla or hazelnut, so it’s just a regular old mocha.”

“No worries,” Penelope said, her voice unenthusiastic as she added, “and that’s good to hear.”

Crew members bustled beside her as they set up lighting equipment around the dinner table. Behind her, the suitors were starting to trickle in, taking in the view of the beach from the restaurant’s patio.

“Penelope!”

Ah, Christ . 

“James Basilio!” she returned as energetically as she could muster. “How can I help you?”

“I just feel as though I’ve barely had any time to talk to you,” Basilio whined. “I feel unprepared.”

“Unprepared? No way!” Penelope reached out a hand to him as he approached, touching his shoulder supportively. “You are a … super interesting person! When you get that one-on-one time tonight with Marina, share your story with her just how we discussed – less dead horse, more ‘I gave up my first dream but now I’m ready to chase another with you.’”

Basilio nodded, a sad smile creeping onto his face. “You know what’s amazing? I really feel like Peppercorn is here tonight, supporting me.”

“That’s so …” Pen grimaced, searching for the right word.

“Touching,” Colin piped up as he walked up to stand beside Basilio.

“Yes! Touching,” Pen said, mouthing a quick ‘ thank you ’ to Colin as Basilio glanced at the table. “Anyway, I told Colin I would help him with … something really quickly, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course. Thanks, Penelope,” Basilio said, leaving to rejoin the others.

“After spending a week with that dude, I feel like I know Peppercorn better than some of my own family members,” Colin said wistfully as Basilio walked away.

“May he whinny in peace,” Pen said solemnly, prompting a snicker from Colin.

“You’re smart to get some caffeine in before the long night,” he said, motioning to her coffee. “Were you actually able to find a peppermint mocha in the Maldives?”

“Oh!” Penelope looked at her coffee cup. “No, it’s just a regular mocha. I’m surprised you remembered that–”

“--That you’re the only person I’ve ever known to order peppermint mochas year-round? How could I forget?” Colin smiled. “You said it’s because you like feeling as though a little bit of Christmas magic lasts all year.”

Quite the detail to remember from over six years ago …

“Yes, well,” Penelope cleared her throat, “hopefully we’ll have a little magic tonight, yes?”

“I’ll do my best,” Colin said, smiling.

“Big Paws,” Tilley said suddenly, appearing beside Pen and making her jump. “You’re supposed to be over there with the other Romeos.”

“Aye-aye,” Colin said, throwing up a cheeky salute at her before retreating back to the other suitors.

“Good evening, all,” Danbury said, approaching the producers. “I trust you all have prepared some entertaining moments for your suitors to try to win our princess’ heart. First, our plan is to let the dinner portion of our evening run as uninterrupted as possible. We want to see if there will be some good, natural moments of conflict among our suitors. And don’t forget – Marina will be whittling down the competition from eight suitors to just four.”

At the table, Marina approached with Cressida in tow. Penelope was in awe; she looked absolutely stunning in a white, flowy high-low dress. Her hair was styled into a loose braid at one side of her head, a white tropical flower tucked behind her ear on the opposite side. 

“Are you ready, princess?” Danbury called over to her. 

“Absolutely,” Marina replied, nodding eagerly. Cressida gave her a quick, airy kiss to the cheek and joined the other producers behind the camera.

“Marina is earning that princess title tonight, right?” Cressida smiled proudly at the others.

“She looks gorgeous,” Pen said breathlessly.

One by one, the suitors entered and approached the head of the table as the producers tried to judge Marina’s interest in each one by how she greeted them. Basilio, Fife, Cho, and Garret received the most polite, uninterested greetings of all. 

Debling was still her mystery; her eyelashes seemed to flutter a little more as he approached. He had discovered that Marina was mostly a pescatarian, so he managed to elicit a small laugh and nod from her after making a joke about the restaurant being ‘clearly designed for red meat-heads, and not esteemed palettes like ours.’ 

Samadani appealed to her intellectual side; they had previously bonded over similar tastes in music and books. Their greeting included an intense stare along with an exchange of some witty banter. 

Freddie Friedrich was the romantic, of course; he bowed and kissed her hand very chivalrously as he greeted her; “she just morphed into the heart-eyed emoji,” Alice commented as they looked at one another, exchanging pleasantries.

Colin floated in confidently, scooping her up off the floor in a hug as she squealed softly. For an instant, it looked like her legs wanted to wrap around his body as they twitched slightly; however, she kept them firmly pointed to the ground.

It was the exact same hug he had given Pen when he found out he was receiving the first impression pin … thankfully, only Pen noticed this.

“Those last four are the top contenders. Calling it,” Alice said. “We’ll all be in Salt Lake this weekend.”

“And no closer to the $50,000,” Will sighed.

“She’s got the whole gang, doesn’t she? The mystery man, the intellectual, the romantic, and the one she wants to bone,” Tilley said.

Penelope felt her muscles stiffen. “You think she wants to bone Colin?”

“I could see those pupils dilating from back here,” Tilley laughed. “Did anyone get a good look at his pants, by the way?”

“You’re awful,” Cressida snapped, slapping Tilley on the leg.

As the suitors settled into their seats, Penelope and her fellow producers put on their headphones to monitor the dinner conversations clearly. Marina took a knife to her wine glass, tapping it gently before raising her glass in the air.

“To warm weather and even warmer company,” she said. “Cheers, gentlemen.”

“And to a most extraordinary woman,” Freddie added, holding his glass out to hers.

As the dinner continued, one by one, each suitor took Marina aside for a quiet conversation or moment alone. Most of the suitors took the opportunity to let Marina know their feelings for her were starting to deepen. Samadani and Freddie even sprung for a kiss, which Marina returned politely, calmly. Throughout each interaction, Penelope watched, impressed that Marina was so magnanimous and attentive to each one as they tried to win her heart.

Finally, Genevieve tapped Pen on the shoulder: “Want to come see the shot we’ll be getting?”

Pen nodded, and Genevieve led her to the side of the restaurant, through a small patch of greenery that sat just far enough away from the main walkway to be somewhat inconspicuous, despite there being a clear path trod by many feet before. As Pen pushed branches aside, she gasped to see the clearing they had reached. In front of her, the sea was expansive; however, this little sandy cove was calm, the only sound being the water very gently rolling in and receding from a huge pile of white and gray seashells that were obviously stacked by people who had visited the spot before.

Penelope reached down into the cool water and picked up a smooth, white scalloped shell,  rolling it around in her hand and wiping a few grains of sand from it with her fingers. She turned it over to read the thick black ink strokes inside: “Annie loves Jacob. March, 2022.”

She laid it gently back onto the pile, patting it before standing back up.

“What do you think?” Genevieve smiled behind her. “Won’t this look beautiful? I’m so glad you mentioned this idea to us.”

“It’s perfect,” Pen added somewhat wistfully, before adding quickly, “it’s great for television.”

Genevieve grinned eagerly. “I’m so happy you love it! The plan is to get an over the shoulder shot of Marina and Colin entering this cove, then a really nice eye-level shot of her seeing everything for the first time. It’s going to look absolutely fantastic. Want to go watch it on the monitors?”

“I can’t wait,” Pen said.

After a few minutes, Cressida pulled Marina and Colin away from the group to prepare them for their moment. Penelope pulled a clean shell and a black Sharpie from her bag, hurrying over to slip it into Colin’s hands.

“Don’t misspell anything,” she smiled at Colin. “I only grabbed and cleaned one shell from the beach this morning.”

“Pressure’s on,” he beamed back.

Penelope returned to her seat with the other producers to watch, putting her headphones back on to catch the audio. As soon as Genevieve indicated the cameras were rolling, Pen leaned forward to peer at the three monitors in front of them, each one capturing a slightly different view of the cove.

Pushing branches aside with one hand, Colin took Marina’s in his other hand and led her through.

“Where are you taking me?” Marina’s eyes sparkled with curiosity.

“I found this place the last time I traveled here,” Colin explained, his voice bright and upbeat. “They call it the Lover’s Respite. The waters are so calm in this spot; it’s very rare for a shell to be washed away.”

They stepped through the clearing until the calm waters and piles of seashells were visible. One monitor showed the camera close to Marina’s face as she took it all in; her mouth gaped open slightly in wonder, and she could barely contain a playful giggle that bubbled up and out of her.

“Oh my God,” she said emphatically. “This is stunning!”

“Right?” Colin smiled at her, clearly proud that she was so excited by the view. “Because the shells rarely wash away, a lot of people come here to leave their mark – just a little seashell with their names written on it, or even just their initials.”

“That’s so sweet,” Marina said, reaching down and picking up one of the shells to read. “‘Yvonne and DeMarcus.’ Do you think they were on a t.v. show too?”

Colin laughed. “Hopefully DeMarcus wasn’t having to duke it out with seven other guys.”

“Even if he was, maybe he was the winner,” Marina replied, a mischievous smirk growing on her face.

“Could be. But I was kind of hoping to be the first one to have this idea on a reality dating show,” Colin said, turning to face her. “Want to leave our mark on this place?”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the white shell and Sharpie. Popping the cap off and sticking it in his teeth to hold, he scribbled on the shell. Then, he handed the shell to Marina as he replaced the cap on the pen, looking at her expectantly as she examined it.

The camera zoomed in on the shell, and Pen leaned forward to read it.

Marina ♡ Colin

He had even drawn a little crown over her name.

Pen swallowed.

“I need a minute,” she muttered, standing up from her chair quickly.

“Everything alright?” Tilley looked at her strangely. 

“I’m fine. Just feeling a little sick,” Pen said quietly.

“It’s those damn peppermint mochas,” Tilley replied. “I know I’ve told you before: that syrup is only made to be good through December.”

“It was a plain mocha, and I’m fine,” Pen gulped before bolting into the restaurant, finding the bathroom as quickly as she could.

She flew in, shutting the door behind her and collapsing over the counter.

“For fuck’s sake, Penelope, get it together,” she cursed at herself, her head low, staring into the sink in front of her where a few soapy bubbles remained clinging to the porcelain side. For a few shaky breaths, she thought she had it all pulled together.

The image of the shell popped into her head again.

The stupid heart.

The stupid little crown.

The cold wind whipping around her as Colin held her into his chest, swaying.

“I have absolutely zero interest in Penelope Featherington.”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” Pen chanted as the tears came crashing over her lashes. The dam inside her broke; the dam she had spent so much effort to build over the last six years came tumbling down, breaking like a pile of dead twigs instead of the stones she thought she had so carefully erected. 

She cursed herself. She had tried to compartmentalize all of her feelings. She was a producer on a top reality show who needed to win; surely she could push her former friend to the top, right? And she had stuffed away the hurt and pain from that night six years ago so well, so she thought. Up until now, she had been so proud of the strength she had shown in the face of Colin’s presence, but a stupid seashell – a stupid seashell that she had found, she had placed in his hands; a moment that she had crafted was the reason for her undoing. 

The door to the bathroom creaked open.

“Damn, usually this doesn’t happen until 3 a.m. at the club.”

Tilley. Fuck.

“It’s just been a stressful week,” Pen said softly, grabbing a paper towel from the bathroom counter to dab the mess of makeup now on her cheeks.

Tilley’s gaze bore into her; Pen heard her sigh deeply.

“It’s Big Paws, isn’t it?” Tilley said finally. “You slept with him, didn’t you?”

“No!” Pen gasped, spinning back around to face her.

“You didn’t? Ohh,” Tilley said, a knowing smile appearing on her face, “but you like him.”

Pen couldn’t respond; Jesus, of all the people to confront her about this, Tilley was perhaps the last person she wanted to face. Internally, Pen braced herself for endless teasing, or threats to blackmail her in exchange for something nefarious.

Instead, Tilley stepped beside her at the sink and rubbed her shoulder.

“Don’t mistake my kindness for weakness,” Tilley warned, “but don’t waste any tears over that hot weirdo, okay? As someone who has been involved with dudes from this show before – it’s not worth it. All of these guys are losers. That’s why they’re on this show.”

“I have a past with Colin,” Penelope sniffed. “I used to be absolutely infatuated with him. He rejected me in probably the cruelest way possible.”

“Well, look who’s now producing his love life for t.v.,” Tilley said, brushing a hand over Pen’s head in a surprisingly motherly way. “He’s in the running for a girl alongside a rapping vegetarian and a dude who won’t stop talking about his dead horse – and he has yet to prove he’s a clear winner, comparatively. I really think you’re out of his league, Pen.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Pen muttered.

“He wouldn’t be on this show if he wasn’t in a shitty place in his life. People who are happy with their lives don’t end up on reality t.v.”

Pen turned to look at Tilley, her brow furrowed.

“Why are you being so nice to me?

Tilley shrugged. “Weak moment for me, I know. Don’t think I won’t shove you down for that $50k.”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t,” Pen weakly smiled. “You won’t tell the others about this?”

“Secret’s safe with me,” Tilley mimed zipping her lips shut. She grabbed a paper towel and blotted her lips, crumpling it and tossing it in the trash before heading toward the door.

“By the way, Pen,” she said over her shoulder, “Marina and Colin didn’t kiss.”

Three hours after shooting had concluded, Pen found herself back at Reef’s End, sitting at a table overlooking the shore with a glass of the most tannic red she could find on the menu. She wasn’t technically supposed to be out of her hotel room for the night; but then again, she wasn’t supposed to have feelings for one of the cast members, either.

She swallowed a bitter sip of her wine as she sat in the discomfort of her realization.

She still had feelings for Colin.

Feelings , plural, for sure. 

She still hated him for using her six years ago; for the hurtful things he said to Eloise about her. She hated how conflicted he had made her feel when he pulled her close to him outside the theater. She couldn’t stand how fucking sure of himself he was, always; how could someone never have an ounce of insecurity?

But she also loved the ways he had tried to make her smile since being on the show. She loved that he complimented her lipstick; that he noticed what book she was reading; that he remembered she loved drinking peppermint mochas all year. She even adored that stupid fucking bear joke – not because it was particularly funny, but because of how much he loved telling it. That stupid fucking troll twinkle in his eye while he made people uncomfortable during it – God , it both infuriated her and made her want to jump in his arms all at once.

And the years had truly been kind to him, too. He was aging like a fine wine; somehow taller, broader, handsomer than he had been six years ago. She knew that at the hint of a drop of boundaries, they could have insane chemistry with one another; the heat was clearly there when they had embraced outside the theater.

But what could she do?

He was on a show to win the heart of someone else.

And she needed $50,000.

Finishing the last sip of her wine, she settled her check and gathered up her purse, pulling up the Avas Ride app on her phone to ping a car. As she fumbled to unlock it, she glanced over to the secret path that led to the seashell cove.

A figure emerged from the greenery, pushing it aside before bolting out of it, soon hidden from the lights of the restaurant.

Penelope could have sworn it was Colin. 

She blinked several times. Was she drunk? Nope; one glass of wine never made her that tipsy. But that had clearly looked like him – right height, a mop of curly hair, the quick moves of someone who had had to outrun their siblings many times over the years.

… surely it wasn’t.

Penelope felt possessed. She rushed to the greenery, pushing branches aside as she stumbled through it. She emerged at the clearing, the moonlight illuminating the piles and piles of seashells all around her.

She bent down and picked one up.

Katie and Jason

Penelope tossed it aside and picked up another.

Maria and Carlos

Toss. Grab.

Drew and Tom

Nanette and Felix

Natsu and Kei

Megan and Kayla

She kept grabbing and tossing, over and over again. Finally, she paused; the realization that she would never find exactly what she hoped she would discover washed over her, sobering her, calming her.

She steeled herself, resolute: she didn’t need to see a shell with her name on it. 

Penelope backed away from the seashells and turned, pushing back through the greenery towards the restaurant. Her phone buzzed with a notification; her ride was six minutes away. She made her way back to the sidewalk and walked around to the front of the building to wait for her car.

“Pen?”

Colin stood on the sidewalk in front of her; next to him, a man she didn’t know had the Avas Ride app open on his phone.

“I, uh,” he stammered, eyes wide, “are you getting a ride?”

“Yeah,” Pen said quietly.

“Can I catch a ride with you?” Colin placed a hand on the shoulder of the unknown man next to him. “David here was going to be kind enough to pay for a ride for me, but …”

“I’ve got him,” Pen said, waving politely to David, who gave a fist bump to Colin and walked away.

“Listen, I know I’m not supposed to be out here,” Colin said quickly, sheepishly rubbing his upper arm. “I just needed a minute away from all of this. Please don’t quit on me or rat me out or whatever it is you’re supposed to do for a rule-breaker.”

“I’m not supposed to be out either,” Penelope replied calmly. “You’re cool. Let’s just get a ride back and pretend we didn’t see each other.”

“Right,” Colin nodded.

Penelope’s phone buzzed as the ride pulled up; she piled in quickly with Colin.

Silence.

Colin awkwardly broke the ice: “So, I think tonight went well. Final four, right?”

Pen glanced over at him. For some reason, he looked smaller than usual.

“You okay?” she asked him; the words poured out of her sincerely, without thinking.

“Sort of,” he said thoughtfully, looking out the window. “It’s just weird.  I’m supposed to be feeling something for Marina at this point in the show, right? And she’s really a great woman. I thought maybe I’d feel a spark ignite when we did the seashell thing, but it just felt …”

Colin’s voice trailed off. Pen shot him a sideways glance.

“I mean,” he continued quietly, “if I’m going to win this, we’re supposed to fall in love with each other, right?”

“That’s generally the premise of the show, yes,” Penelope replied softly. 

He looked down at his hands, wringing them anxiously. 

“I trust you’ll help get me there, then,” Colin said.

Pen bit her lip. “We both want you to win, right?”

Colin looked out the window again, pensive, brow furrowed. 

“I didn’t expect she would keep me on the show after tonight. I think I’m the only guy who hasn’t tried to kiss her or anything. Why is she keeping me around?”

“She must still see something in you,” Pen said. “She must feel something.”

“I guess. But then why–”

His thought was interrupted by Pen’s app lighting up, illuminating the car’s cabin in sterile blue light: You have arrived at your destination.

“Well, we should head back to our rooms and get some rest. Travel day tomorrow,” Penelope said, her voice short as she reached for her car door.

“Right,” Colin muttered as they both exited the car.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Colin,” Pen said.

She slammed the car door shut and hurried away, her thoughts a confusing tangle of contradictions. 

He wasn’t feeling anything for Marina yet. Was he disappointed? Did he want to?

… Did Pen want him to?

How were they going to win this?

She settled back in her room, taking off her makeup and getting into her pajamas. As she brushed her teeth, she pulled out her phone, a thought nagging her in the back of her head.

She opened up Google, typing into the search bar: “Maldives Lover’s Respite.”

The search results populated. She clicked on the third link: “The Legend of Lover’s Respite.”

She recognized the story as she read; it matched Colin’s description of the area exactly as he had described it to Marina earlier. Pen scrolled to the bottom:

“ As legend has it, the two names written on the shell are bound to one another for all eternity. For that reason, it’s important for lovers to be certain if they are to leave a shell at Lover’s Respite. It’s not wise to tempt the fates, as it’s rumored that a curse will befall those who leave a shell but fall out of love – or who realize they were never in love in the first place.

However, there is a remedy for breaking this curse: if you fall in love with another, you can leave a shell with the name of your new, true love by the light of the moon, thereby renewing the bond with another and realigning the fates. ”

Penelope locked her phone, put away her toothbrush, and climbed into bed.

As she closed her eyes, however, the only image she could see was Colin climbing out of the greenery from the seashell cove and bolting away.

Chapter Text

Two and a half miserably long days of travel.

Then, finally, wheels down: Salt Lake City, Utah.

Penelope glanced through her schedule on her phone; with only four suitors left, she would now be meeting with Cressida prior to each remaining date so they could plan and talk through a strategy with Colin. Cressida was a ruthless producer, determined to do whatever it took to make herself look successful in front of Danbury and Charlotte. Pen knew that Colin’s success partially hinged on her appealing to Cressida’s good side; she was a smooth talker, and could likely sway Marina’s opinion if she felt it was warranted.

Pen also knew the other producers were vying for Cressida’s attention and interest as well. Brown-nosing had never been Penelope’s strongest suit, and she knew she’d be coming into a meeting with Cressida essentially empty-handed, unlike some people. As Penelope breezed through the airport, she could see Alice and Will buying a huge box of Cressida’s favorite kitchen sink cookies at the airport Panera. 

“Suck ups!” she called out teasingly. Alice looked up and stuck her tongue out.

The four remaining suitors had taken separate flights from the producers and Marina; they were set to arrive that afternoon and head directly to the resort where they would all be staying and filming. Penelope was secretly glad to have enjoyed some time alone with no ability to see or interact with Colin. The breathing room gave her a chance to try to rebuild some of her inner wall; to remind herself that she needed to remain focused on her work.

The other reminder to refocus came from a series of texts from her mother:

Hope your show is going well, sweetheart. I’m assuming that it’s been busy.

We certainly miss you here at home. Can’t wait to hear all about it.

I hate to ask you this, but the collectors have been calling nonstop. Do you think you’ll still be able to help out with the $$? Oh, dear. You have no idea how grateful I’ll be.

Love you, Penelope.

Love was a very strange thing, Pen decided. How odd it was that you could so strongly dislike an action a person had taken, or a series of decisions a person had made – hell, you could even dislike multiple aspects of the person themselves – and yet, you could still love them. Her relationship with her mother had never been anything close to perfect; Mama Featherington had made plenty of mistakes when it came to supporting Pen’s confidence, or managing the family finances. Still, Pen loved her. Her mother could be fiercely protective of her daughters at times, and she did not back down from doing what it took to make sure her family survived – even if that meant calling in some favors or asking for help. But Pen had realized more and more that she didn’t need to justify her love for her mother by coming up with lists of admirable qualities. Sometimes love behaved in a way that confounded any sense of reason or logic; sometimes it was just there – persistent, resilient, and steadfast. Love helped Pen forgive; it helped her keep faith.

Pen fired back a quick text before getting in the car to head to the resort:

Working on it, Mama. I’ll keep you posted. Love you.

The ski resort was stunning – designed like a remote luxury European ski lodge, Penelope marveled at the beautiful, rustic-looking wood beams adorning the ceilings throughout the building. Outside, skiers dotted the snow-capped mountains like sprinkles on full scoops of vanilla ice cream, taking to the slopes eagerly in colorful hats and snow suits.

Unfortunately, there was no time for play at the resort for Penelope and her fellow producers. As she watched skiers enjoy the powder outside, she was stuck in a small, sterile meeting room sitting on an uncomfortable folding chair that squeaked painfully every time she shifted positions. She laughed as she thought back to a time when her sisters asked if working in television meant she’d now be living the high life; if only they knew the glamorous life they were missing out on!

Three short knocks rapped on the door. 

“Come on in,” Pen called, still sorting through her papers to find a clean place to take notes.

Brimsley popped his head in. “Colin’s here.”

“Cool,” Pen said, willing herself to stay collected and in charge. “Send him in.”

Colin strolled into the room, infusing it automatically with a burst of energy.

“Morning, Pen. Good flight yesterday?”

“As good as one can be after two full days of travel,” Pen said, keeping her eyes glued to her papers.

“Well, maybe this will help,” Colin said, holding a coffee cup out in front of her.

Penelope took it somewhat cautiously, looking up at Colin with an inquisitive lift of her brows.

“You’re not supposed to spend your per diem on anyone but yourself,” she scolded teasingly. 

As she took the cup from him, the familiar scent of peppermint hit her nose.

“Well, luckily for the network, the barista at that coffee shop in the lobby was happy to make me a drink in exchange for a selfie with a Bridgerton,” Colin said with a smile. “When I walked up to the counter, he said he knew I ‘had to be one of those Bridgertons.’ Apparently his girlfriend has a huge hall pass-level crush on Benedict … so when he asked if that was who I was, I had to oblige.”

Colin tapped on the side of the cup. Penelope turned it around to see BENEDICT scribbled in black Sharpie.

“And I almost had him completely fooled. He texted the photo of us to his girlfriend while he was making the drink,” Colin said, stifling a chuckle. “I am only a little offended that she texted back, ‘ew, that’s just Colin.’ Fortunately, he had already made your peppermint mocha by then, so I guess the ego bruise was only a small price to pay for it.”

Penelope rubbed her hand on the side of the coffee cup, a little dazed. 

“Does it taste alright?”

Colin’s voice was nonchalant, but the way he followed Pen with his eyes as he sat down made it clear that he was hopeful for her approval. Pen took a sip, savoring the warmth.

“Like Christmas in a cup. Thank you. This was kind of you, Benedict– oops, I mean, Colin,” Pen smiled. 

“Not you too!” Colin rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hide his clear happiness.

Damn. Yet again, Penelope felt her inner wall crumbling underneath the Bridgerton charm. She wondered when he had made the plan to get the coffee for her; was it a last-minute thought as he was walking to her meeting? Or had he made plans for it earlier?

“So, what’s on the docket today?” Colin asked, snapping Pen out of her thoughts. “We’re meeting with Cressida to make some plans for this date?”

Pen nodded. “And get ready to put on your armor. Cressida is an ice queen that will not be steamrolled by your charm.”

As if on cue, Brimsley knocked twice before sticking his head in the door again.

“Cressida is here,” he said, plastering a fake smile on his face.

“We’re ready for her,” Pen called out.

Cressida breezed in, blonde hair slicked back in a ponytail so high, she looked like she was trying to give herself a natural face lift. She eyeballed Pen’s coffee cup momentarily before grabbing a chair, sitting in it primly as she pulled out her phone.

“This shouldn’t take too long. I just wrapped up my meeting with Marina,” Cressida said, keeping her eyes glued to her phone. “Let’s see, just checking my notes … we thought a cooking date for you might be fun.”

“I love that idea,” Pen said thoughtfully, scribbling a few notes. “I can check to see what the resort chef might be willing to teach them. Something easy.”

“Easy, or perhaps suggestive,” Cressida said, twisting her mouth as she thought. 

“Suggestive?” Colin looked to Pen, his expression a bit perturbed.

Cressida ignored him: “Something that will require them to need to use their hands a lot. Kneading, molding, that sort of thing. Maybe pretzels?”

“Ooh, yes. Oven-baked soft pretzels. I like it,” Pen replied. She turned to Colin, mouthing as clearly as she could: ‘ go with it .’

“Alright, can do,” Colin said, adjusting himself in his seat.

“I also think this would be a nice time for you to talk about your work as a travel influencer, Colin,” Cressida continued. “Try to make your job sound a little more … important, if you can.”

Penelope saw a wave of aggravation wash over Colin, but he simply hummed his compliance and otherwise stayed silent.

“Great,” Cressida lowered her phone into her lap and looked at Penelope and Colin expectantly. “Oh, one more thing. She said – and I quote: ‘If he doesn’t finally kiss me on this date, he’s out.’ So there’s that. Let’s figure out exactly when he can do that while they’re cooking, okay? Maybe after they put the pretzels in the oven?”

Penelope looked to Colin, who was clearly beginning to fume and avoided her eye contact. She knew he performed the best when he was given the space to fulfill things at his own pace – which, admittedly, could be lightning-speed, but he still wanted as much control over the narrative as possible. Up until now, Pen had tried to give him that agency. Cressida, however, relished in controlling as many puppet strings as possible; and in this instance, Penelope knew that Cressida was desperate to use Colin as her marionette. She thought quickly for a way she could keep Colin on board with the ideas without obstructing the narrative necessary for him to advance on the show.

“I mean … that seems pretty clear,” Pen said slowly. “You know, Colin really has a knack for reading the energy in a situation and making the right judgment call. Maybe he could really take the lead here on when and how to bring up the career conversation and the … kiss?”

Cressida leaned forward in her chair, staring directly at Penelope. “I’ve managed to convince our princess that keeping this Bridgerton around each week was a great plan to help her season get the highest viewership possible. She’s been on board. But now, she’s looking to figure out her happily ever after in all of this. If Colin wants to be seriously considered for that, he needs to step it up.”

“I hear you,” Penelope replied, before adding, somewhat diffidently, “we both hear you.”

She could see Colin practically eating his bottom lip off in his chair.

Cressida leaned back. “Wonderful. I’ll let Marina know we’ve decided on the course of events, and that everyone is on board. I know she’ll really be looking forward to this date.”

She smiled arrogantly at Penelope before leaving the room, letting the door slam loudly behind her on the way out.

No sooner had the latch clicked shut than Colin burst with annoyance.

“Are Cressida and Marina going to pick out my socks for me every morning now? Does every minute of this supposed ‘romantic story’ need to be choreographed?”

“It’s part of the magic of television, Colin,” Pen grumbled. “You signed up for this, I might remind you.”

“My management did, I might remind you,” Colin snapped, then immediately wilted. “Sorry, Pen. I don’t mean to take this out on you. But I just had no idea this whole thing would be so … scripted.”

Pen choked down a laugh. “Don’t let the network hear you say that. As far as our audience is concerned, we’re only serving the realest and most authentic romance.”

“But I’m not crazy, right?” Colin’s leg was tapping furiously in agitation. “To have it so minutely planned that they want me to kiss her right after a cue …”

“It doesn’t have to be at that specific moment,” Pen said quietly, trying to temper him to a sizzle.

“It doesn’t have to be at any specific moment. That’s not what a kiss should be. A kiss should be spontaneous; it should be born from a moment of reflection, or recognition, or reverence. A good kiss is one that’s ignited organically – from both participants, I might add. It should be something that is appreciated beforehand, enjoyed in the moment, and longed for in its aftermath. It should be something so much deeper than,” he waved his hand irreverently in front of him, “whatever it is that they’re planning.”

Pen swallowed, staring at him. Had he always held these views on kissing? Had he always held it in such high regard? She wondered what, then, had changed the night he kissed her out of pity, as he had described it to Eloise …

“‘When the pretzels go in the oven.’ Fucking hell,” Colin grumbled under his breath, snapping Pen out of her spiraling thoughts. He sat back in his chair, resting his hand on his head as he studied the floor.

No matter their past, she struggled to see him so despondent. Pen leaned forward and gently put her hand on his knee; his eyes jolted up to look into hers.

“You’re in charge of yourself, Colin. No one can make you do anything here; we can simply concoct a plan and advise what we think will be best in terms of our lead and our audience. But in the end, your actions are up to you.”

“Keen observation, Pen; as usual,” he said quietly, reaching his own hand down to hers and giving it a quick squeeze before standing up to leave. “I promise I’ll try to pull it together. I won’t let you down.”

Why are you so concerned with letting me down? she thought, but kept her mouth shut, nodding instead: “I’ll see you tomorrow, Colin.”

“Ol’ Queeny’s watching today,” Tilley whispered to Penelope as they walked together. “Pressure’s on.”

Sure enough, inside the small, cramped room they were planning to use for observations on the monitors, Charlotte was seated next to Danbury, headphones on. Behind them, Alice and Will lounged in chairs and stared at their phones, their suitors’ dates having already taken place. 

Charlotte waved to Pen, calling her over and patting the seat next to her.

“Did you ever think your boy would make it this far?” Charlotte moved her hand below her chin, her manicured fingers pointed gracefully. “He’s a hit on social media. Lovable. But I, for one, am echoing the general sentiment I keep seeing – I’m hoping he finally makes a move on this date. His reluctance has made for some interesting conflict thus far, but I am longing for a resolution.”

“Well, I think you might be pleased,” Penelope said nervously. “We have some very fun interactions planned.”

“Let’s hope I stay entertained, then,” Charlotte’s face settled into mirthful sneer; Pen took it, victorious at one of her more positive interactions with the show’s creator.

On the monitors, Pen could see Marina and Colin enter the resort kitchen, greeted cheerfully by the chef as he introduced himself and showed what they would be making: big, twisted soft pretzels. Colin donned an apron and reached over to help Marina tie hers behind her back.

“Can you adjust where it ties at the neck as well?” she turned to ask him.

“Of course,” Colin said genially.

Marina lifted her hair up, piling it toward the top of her head, exposing the back of her neck as Colin’s fingers worked to untie the knot and retie it.

“That was my idea,” Cressida leaned over to whisper to Charlotte. 

“Brilliant. A little skin-to-skin touch is always enticing,” Charlotte nodded. “A delectable little appetizer for our chefs.”

Colin and Marina dipped their hands into a bowl of flour, sending white dust floating into the air around them. Playfully, Marina tapped a bit of flour on Colin’s nose.

“Also my idea,” Cressida said proudly.

“Do we really need a fucking play-by-play?” Tilley muttered just loud enough for everyone to hear. Cressida turned to glare at her. 

Down in the kitchen, Marina and Colin dutifully listened to the chef’s instructions for crafting the pretzels before diving into the recipe themselves.

“So,” Marina began as she cut the pre-made pretzel dough into workable sections, “your work must be pretty interesting – traveling the world, covering it all on social media.”

“Yeah. I realized in my last year of school that I didn’t have a good answer for ‘what are you doing after this’ … I didn’t have any answer at all, really. Thought I might find an answer overseas, and, well, I did,” Colin said, grabbing a section of the doll and starting to roll it into a rope.

“And how did the social media part specifically come into place?” Marina asked. “It’s not a conventional career path, I’d imagine.”

“Well, I was already documenting my travels on a private Instagram account for about three years,” he responded. “When I realized how much time I was taking to do that on an account that no one was ever going to see, I refocused. I figured that if my posts were public instead, maybe the right people would see them and appreciate them. I even thought maybe my photos and words could inspire people to take a risk and chase something they love, too.”

“And I guess it helps that you probably make a little money from it now, too,” Marina said cheerfully as she rolled out her dough, twisting it and knotting it before placing it on a baking sheet.

“It’s an added benefit, but it’s definitely not the main reason why I do it,” Colin said, adding his own knotted dough to the tray. “It’s really about sharing the interesting places, stories, people, and food I find all over the world … and within that, it’s sharing a little part of me with whoever sees it.”

Marina popped open the oven door behind then, taking the metal tray holding their pretzels and placing it inside, closing the door gently. She turned back to Colin and smiled, her eyes big and softhearted.

“You know,” Marina scooted another inch closer to Colin, “I can tell there’s more to you, Colin, that I want to get to know. Something deeper. But in the interim, I’m really enjoying the Colin I’ve gotten to know so far.”

“I’m really enjoying getting to know you too,” Colin replied, a soft smile on his lips.

Marina leaned in to him, tilting her head up.

Colin froze.

Marina moved a bit closer, tilting her head even further.

Colin looked at her for a moment, then pulled away, wiping his hands on his apron. 

“Should we set a timer or something?” he said indifferently. 

Marina’s eyes popped open as she drew her face back.

“Seriously?” she said, her tone incredulous.

“Stop, stop, stop!” Cressida suddenly shouted, jumping up from her seat and running out of the observation room, followed closely by Charlotte and Danbury. They made a beeline for Marina, who was simply still and staring at Colin, her eyebrows furrowed.

Tilley cracked up as she nudged Penelope. “Oh; she’s pissed . God, I love to see it. And Big Paws – wow! Big hot weirdo energy for sure! I am here for it!”

Alice and Will were laughing as well as Pen’s panic began to set in.

“Is this the first time a final four suitor has turned down a kiss from a lead?” Will managed to choke out. “What a riot . Social media is going to be wild.”

“Did you plan this?” Alice asked Pen. “This is absolutely brilliant television. I can see the comments now: ‘What the fuck is he doing?’”

Charlotte and Danbury reappeared in the doorway.

“Penelope?” Charlotte called out loudly.

Pen nervously raised her hand: “Right here.”

“Absolutely diabolical , my dear. The princess – rejected! You hate to see it,” she smiled devilishly, “but people love to see what they hate.” 

“I’m off to make sure Genevieve gets a clip of that to our social media team to tease,” Danbury said; it was perhaps the most excited Penelope had ever seen her be. “Our viewership numbers should be through the roof!”

As Charlotte and Danbury turned to leave, Colin appeared in the doorway. Tilley angled her hands towards him, giving him a dramatic slow clap.

“Big Paws!” she whooped. “And I thought my 11th grade prom date was bad … that might be the best embarrassing kiss rejection I’ve ever seen!” 

Colin, however, locked eyes immediately with Pen.

His face was sheet white. He was panicking.

“Can we talk?” he breathed. “Privately?”

Pen nodded and hopped up from her seat as Charlotte raised an eyebrow at her.

“Show stuff,” Penelope muttered. She knew it was a shit excuse, but she was too focused on Colin to think of anything better. 

She grabbed him by the arm and led him out of the room and down the skinny hallway in the resort. There was no reason that anyone from the show needed to hear them, she reasoned, so as they walked, she reached a hand quickly under the back of his shirt and stripped the mic pack off of him, pulling tape and wires as fast as she could and tossing them unceremoniously to the floor. Finding the room they had set up earlier in the day as a green room, she gently pushed him inside in front of her and pulled the door shut behind them.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Colin said breathlessly, whipping around and staring deeply at Penelope, his eyes as wide as saucers. 

“You can. You will,” Pen said calmly. 

“No, Pen,” Colin leaned down and took her by the shoulders. “How can I? How can I focus on her when I know you’re just out of my line of sight …”

“Stop,” Pen stared at him, beseeching.

“No,” Colin reached out and took her hands in his, pulling her closer. “Pen, it’s torturing me. It’s been torturing me for six goddamn years. Why didn’t you answer my messages?”

“Excuse me?” Pen shook her head, sure she had misunderstood him.

“I thought I could compartmentalize this shit, but more and more, it’s all I can think about,” he ranted. “I just don’t understand it. Radio silence after that stupid birthday party. I know you and Eloise stopped talking, but why did it have to extend to me?”

“When did you ever try talking to me?” Pen cocked her head to the side, her pulse rising as she felt the layers of years of pain start to be stripped away and exposed, piece by piece.

“That text I sent after the last time I saw you? Or any of the DMs I sent you over the last few years? I would have felt better if you had just told me to fuck off rather than completely ignore me.”

Pen pulled her hands away, stepped back from him, then looked up into his eyes. “I never read them.”

“You never read them? Any of them?” Colin’s face fell. “Why?”

“Why?” Pen’s voice rose. “Because I didn’t want to be pitied by you. That’s why.”

“Pitied?” Colin’s face twisted with confusion. “I don’t understand. Where would you ever get that idea?”

“I heard you,” Pen blurted out. “At Eloise’s party. After it, I mean; that night. I heard you and Eloise in the kitchen – you said you felt sorry for me, and that’s why you kissed me. You made it incredibly clear that you would never, ever want to have anything to do with me.”

“Seriously?” Colin seemed flabbergasted. “You heard all of that?”

“Every word.”

“Pen, I don’t know what to say,” Colin stammered. “You’ve got to understand that Eloise was upset that night – really upset, and we were – all of us – all just trying to say whatever it took for her to calm down. Mom kept saying, ‘don’t ruin her birthday,’ and we were all trying …”

“Don’t try to placate me now,” Penelope cut in, stiffening her lips. “I’ve had six years to get over it.”

“But you clearly haven’t.”

“Don’t tell me how I feel, Colin,” Penelope snapped.

“You’re right, you’re right,” Colin took a hand to his head, nervously rubbing his forehead. “Pen, I … I am so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was an idiot in my early 20’s who said the first stupid shit that popped into my brain to try to keep my sister from biting everyone’s heads off. I truly didn’t mean it, Pen.”

Penelope closed her eyes and shook her head, bringing her hands to her temples as she tried to process his apology.

“Please forgive me, Pen,” he said, his voice tinged with worry.

“This isn’t what we’re here to do, Colin,” she said, her eyes still clamped shut, desperate to avoid his gaze. “This is supposed to be about the show.”

Colin opened his mouth to speak again, only to be interrupted by a furious knock at the door.

“Penelope?” Cressida nearly shrieked. “Move this fucking chair and let us in.”

Pen rushed over and scooted the chair away from the door, barely dodging it as Cressida flung it open. She flew in in a flurry, Marina following close behind.

“Can the two of you explain to me why neither of you stuck to what we had planned?” Cressida balanced a glare between both Colin and Penelope. 

“Television,” Pen responded, tight-lipped. “Full of surprises.”

Marina stepped forward, looking only at Colin.

“I can’t keep you here any longer if you’re completely uninterested in me,” she said calmly.

“I understand,” Colin responded without hesitation. “Just cut me loo–

“Absolutely not.”

Charlotte’s voice boomed into the room abruptly as she stepped inside the door frame, Danbury right on her heels.

“You will keep Mr. Bridgerton on the show for this weekend’s dates,” she said, staring directly at Marina. “Cut either Debling or Samadani today.” 

“What? Excuse me?” Marina’s face was furious. “This show is supposed to be my happily ever after story. Why would I keep someone who is absolutely not feeling it with me?”

“Because sometimes, meeting a person’s family is the perfect segue into a deeper romance,” Charlotte stepped forward, placing a hand on Marina’s shoulder. “Especially if that family is a rich, well-connected, very popular family with a home that everyone has been dying to see … like the Bridgertons.”

The Bridgertons? Penelope’s heart dropped into the floor.

“Wait,” Cressida said, holding up a hand. “We’re doing hometown, meet-the-family dates this year? I thought we didn’t have the budget for those this season, just like last year.”

Charlotte and Danbury smiled knowingly at each other.

“After all of the excitement for a Bridgerton being a part of this season’s cast,” Danbury smiled at Colin, “we made the decision that it would be worthwhile to budget in flights to the final three suitors’ hometowns.”

Penelope could feel body temperature rising with her stress. She had never considered they would be doing hometown dates  – they had cut that part of the show after the first season due to the extra costs associated with flying to so many different towns. Now, to her horror, she might have to face a family she thought she’d never see again.

The only person who seemed more upset about the announcement was Marina.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Are you seriously trying to make me keep Colin when he clearly doesn’t give a shit about any of this?” Marina turned to look at Cressida for support.

Cressida bit her lip. “There has been a lot of buzz online about people wanting you to meet the Bridgerton siblings.”

“Is no one on my side about this?” Marina scowled.

Colin started to open his mouth; Pen reached over and yanked his sleeve as hard as she could, imploring him to keep his mouth shut with a dagger-laced stare.

“Between the buzz we’re sure to generate this week from that debacle in the kitchen, along with the anticipation we’ve been seeing all season about our potential ‘meet the Bridgertons’ opportunity, we have the unique opportunity to see ratings we’ve never seen before,” Charlotte said, taking a moment to pointedly stare in each person’s face as she looked around the room. “I will not have my perfect publicity storm ruined.”

“Fine,” Marina growled; she turned to look at Colin, bringing her hands to her hips. “You have got to fake something with me. Anything. You’re humiliating me right now on national t.v., and as you can see, I’ve got plenty enough humiliation to deal with behind the scenes.”

Pen looked at Colin; she could see his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“I seem to be really good at humiliating people, apparently,” he finally said, his voice hoarse.

The room stared back at him, silent. He cleared his throat to continue.

“No, I hear you, Marina. I’ll try.”

“You won’t try. You’ll do,” Marina said, glancing at Pen. “If my hand is going to be forced here, yours needs to be too, Colin. Maybe your producer can step up and do her job.”

It was Pen’s turn to start to speak, only to be stopped by Colin speaking up first.

“Penelope is doing great work,” he said. “It’s me who keeps sabotaging it all. I’m sorry. I don’t know exactly what my issue is, but I can fake it when we visit my home. Promise.”

“Well, that’s settled. We can get a few more shots of you both in the kitchen today, then a couple of individual talking head interviews with you both saying, oh, I don’t know, that you’re feeling so overwhelmed with emotions that you simply need yet another date to decide how you’d like to proceed,” Charlotte smiled benevolently, clearly pleased. “Go finish making your pretzels, lovebirds. Save one for me.”

“Back to the kitchen,” Danbury echoed, motioning for Marina and Colin to follow her.

Colin glanced back at Pen just before leaving the room, his eyes pleading.

“Can we talk later?”

Pen pursed her lips and, against her better judgment, nodded right before Colin slipped out of sight. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Charlotte’s watchful eye trained steadfastly on her. Charlotte remained silent, however; instead, she whirled around and walked out the door.

A quiet knock came on Penelope’s hotel door around 11 p.m. while she sat on her bed, hugging her knees to her chest, her mind a complete storm of conflicting thoughts. She had relived the conversation with Colin a thousand times; then Eloise’s birthday party a thousand times on top of that. Exhausted, she braced herself for a confrontation with Colin as she hopped up and went to look into the peephole.

Surprisingly, she saw Brimsley instead, his hands in his pockets, rocking nervously.

She cracked the door open: “Brimsley?”

“Danbury has Reynolds on a patrol outside Colin’s door. He’s watching it like a hawk under strict orders to send him right back inside should he try to walk out,” Brimsley said quickly, ducking into Pen’s room. “Apparently someone on the crew saw him sneak out one night while we were in the Maldives.”

“Oh,” Pen said, pretending to be surprised.

“Right. And I heard there was a little … incident earlier on his date,” Brimsley continued. “In any case, while I was bringing him some food about a half hour ago, he slipped me this note to give to you.”

Brimsley handed Penelope a white piece of paper, folded neatly, ‘PEN’ underlined three times on the top.

“Make sure no one shoots the messenger if shit goes down, okay?” Brimsley patted Pen on the shoulder.

“You know I’ll throw myself in front of a bullet for you,” she smiled at him.

“Don’t. Blood and red hair? Clash city.”

Brimsley grinned and slipped out of her door. Pen ran to her bed, sitting down and unfolding the note as quickly as she could.

Dear Pen,

I know you don’t “do social media,” or so you say, but humor me.

@ifyouwere_herewithme

pw: ph0to$4pEn.

No expectations from me. Please don’t worry about that. I just wanted you to see.

Go chronologically.

Chat soon,

C

An Instagram account?

Pen pulled out her phone and opened Instagram, logging out of her own account and typing in the information Colin had sent her to log in. She navigated to the account’s profile:

0 followers.

0 following.

217 posts.

She scrolled and scrolled until she reached the bottom of the page – the first photo. She clicked on it to open and drew a huge breath, holding it in apprehension.

The photo that appeared was of the most stunning library Penelope had ever seen. Clearly weathered covers were stacked up to reach an incredibly ornate Baroque rococo-style ceiling, with curved mahogany-covered molding surrounding beautiful artwork. Pen closed her eyes, imagining herself lost in the stunning ceilings, surrounded by the rich smell of the aged books.

She opened her eyes to read the caption:

“ Switzerland. The Abbey Library of Saint Gall. I’m trying to figure out how I can be in one of the most beautiful libraries in the world, but unable to think about anything else but you. Then it dawned on me – God, you would love it here, you sweet little bookworm. If only I could walk you through this room and see the delight in your eyes as you took it all in. I realized I had to document this place just in case I have the chance to show it to you one day. And that’s why this account was created. Every photo I share here will be of a place that makes me think of you, Pen. Maybe one day I can share these photos with you … and maybe one day, we’ll be able to visit all of these places together .”

Pen checked the date – it was posted five and a half years ago, almost to the day.

Which would have been, Pen realized, only six months after Eloise’s birthday party.

“217 posts …” Penelope had to laugh through the tears pooling in her eyes. Colin certainly never did anything halfway.

As she stared at the photo of the library, too overwhelmed with emotions to bring herself to look at any of the other photos, a notification from Danbury flashed in the top bar of her phone.

“Penelope – get your beauty rest. We’re flying you, Genevieve, and Brimsley out to the Bridgertons early. I hear all of the siblings are coming in for the big weekend, so I want you to get interviews with each one of them + the mom before Colin and Marina arrive. I know you’ll make sure we get some absolutely fantastic t.v.! Chat more in the morning.”

Pen locked her phone and threw it on her nightstand, pulling her hand away with a jolt.

There would be absolutely no time to talk to Colin or to even begin to sort out the perfect storm of conflicting feelings she felt at this new revelation from him. 

She turned out her light and buried her face in her pillow.

Colin’s photo of the library appeared in her mind, as clear as day.

“Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it …” she chanted over and over again, until the books floated away and disappeared from the shelves, and the beautiful paintings on the ceiling were covered up, washed over with a void as black as ink.

Chapter Text

“Granada, Spain. You have never seen anything like the Alhambra, Pen. You can absolutely lose yourself in these labyrinthine paths, and quite possibly never be happier to be lost. The stucco walls in particular are unbelievable – they look like lace, intricate geometric patterns, weaving in and out seemingly indefinitely. The mosaic tiles, however … their colors were all you. Vibrant blue like your eyes; bits of orange and red that remind me of your hair; even bright yellow like that dress your mother made you wear to your sister’s birthday a few years ago – the one that you sent a picture of to me to complain about, hoping for my commiseration. Contrary to what you’d probably like to hear, I thought you looked absolutely gorgeous in it.

Come to think of it, as beautiful as the Alhambra is, it really doesn’t hold a candle to you.”

“Jesus Christ,” Penelope heard Brimsley mutter under his breath as their van rounded the final curve on a half-mile long driveway – to be fair, that was the typical reaction once the Bridgerton mansion came into view. 

Penelope closed her Instagram application, breathing a deep sigh as she pictured the stunning photos Colin shared of the Alhambra. She had only read about five of his posts so far, despite her desire to lock herself in a room and go through each one in a marathon of scrolling. Strangely, she felt like by limiting herself, she could commiserate with Colin’s pining a bit more; after all, he had waited patiently for years to share the account with her. So instead of devouring them, she took them in one-by-one, savoring his captions, letting the pictures burn themselves into her memory so profoundly, they almost became her own recollections of the places rather than Colin’s.

She also wanted to go slowly because each post she read, she could feel another layer stripped back from the protection she had built around her heart. 

Each post brought her just a little bit closer to Colin.

And she liked it. That was the most surprising thing in all of it – she was growing happier and happier the closer she felt to Colin.

Looking up at the Bridgerton mansion, Pen marveled now as much as she had when she first saw it years ago. The red-brick Georgian-style home was as impressive as ever, even in the dead of winter and without its signature spring adornment of crawling green vines and flowering wisteria. A smattering of luxury vehicles were seen parked outside the four-car detached garage – a quiet disclosure of the presence of the entire Bridgerton clan.

“As soon as they let me know where I can set up, we can start getting ready for one-on-one interviews,” Genevieve said to Pen as the van pulled up towards the front of the mansion. “Are we still planning on interviewing them from oldest to youngest? And the mother last?”

“That works for me,” Pen said. “I’ll debrief everyone and get them ready while you get set up.”

 She bit her lip, still not really willing to face the reality of a confrontation with Eloise. She had tried to rehearse several different versions of how it might unfold; however, she found herself unable to even begin to put herself in Eloise’s shoes. Did she absolutely hate Pen still? Would she be cruel? Would she try to sabotage anything? Or would she simply ignore Pen? It was impossible to predict.

Genevieve, Brimsley, and the small skeleton crew that accompanied them hopped out of the van to begin unloading cameras and other equipment. Penelope stepped out and straightened out her prim pink cardigan, readying herself for whatever the day might bring her.

Walking up the large white steps to the home, Pen took a deep breath before pressing the doorbell. She heard a few different voices chattering from behind the closed door; finally, it swung open to reveal – much to Pen’s surprise – Simon Basset.

“Hello, Penelope,” he said calmly. Behind him, two small children toddled from around a corner, chasing a small toy car.

“Simon!” Pen’s eyebrows raised in shock. “I’m sorry; I wasn’t expecting you to open the door.”

She had only met Simon a few times at various gatherings during her stint as a Bridgerton friend. He had solely hung around Daphne Bridgerton during that time, feigning a cool disinterest in her that drove her absolutely, unashamedly wild. Several years later, he was still arrestingly handsome with an oddly alluring aloofness that dripped from him like wax off a candle.

“The family wasn’t expecting to see your name on the email that came in last night. Everyone was pretty shocked that you’re working on this show in particular,” he continued. Behind him, Daphne appeared just for an instant, chasing after the two children as they ran into the other room. Pen suddenly made the connection in her head – those were Daphne and Simon’s babies.

“Oh! Yeah. Quite a surprise, I bet. It’s been a few years, huh?” Pen laughed awkwardly. She was still standing on the step in the cold, aware of the growing pile of camera equipment being unloaded from the van behind her.

“Do they need to come in?” Simon looked around Pen, eyeballing the equipment as well.

“They do. We all do, actually,” Pen stuttered. “I mean, I need to come in too.”

“Oh. Right.” Simon stepped back behind the door, extending an arm in front of him. “Come in, then. I’ll let Violet and the others know you’re here.”

Pen smiled – the bright side to this hometown date was the chance for her to reconnect with Violet Bridgerton. She was ecstatic to meet the tenderhearted woman again; to sit in her presence and soak up her warmth and kindness. Following Simon, she made her way down the hall towards the main large sitting room in the mansion. It was a path she had taken only once before, on her first visit to the Bridgertons; after that first time, she had always entered through the back like the rest of the children. She braced herself to round the corner, knowing she would be bombarded by the typical cheerful greeting from the Bridgerton siblings.

Stepping into the sitting room, however, she was surprised to see only one – Francesca. She was no longer an awkward young teen who looked several years younger than her true age; now she was a young adult with beautiful long brown hair and a poised, mature air about her that radiated grace.

“Penelope,” she said, rising from her seat. “It has certainly been a long time. The family will be down shortly; they asked if you could let me know what exactly is required of us so I might relay that information to them. Everyone is so busy right now, you know. Do you think you will need all of us at once?”

Francesca had never been known to be one to make much small talk, so Penelope was only a little surprised at how scripted and rehearsed she sounded. Pen looked behind her own back – Simon had already disappeared after escorting her to the room. Her eyes narrowed; this was very unlike the Bridgertons to not be swallowing a houseguest whole with their enthusiasm. Where were they? 

“It’s good to see you, Francesca; gosh, you’ve grown up!” Pen smiled at her. “I have to admit, I don’t think I’ve ever heard the house so quiet.”

“Ah. Yes, well,” Francesca flashed Pen a tight-lipped smile, “we were all very surprised to hear that you would be the one coming to film Colin’s show here.”

Okay. What the hell is going on here? Penelope wondered. She was shocked; she hadn’t been expecting a parade at her arrival, but she had certainly thought some of the siblings would have been excited to see her – and as Simon had mentioned, they had seen on the email that she was coming, so they knew to expect her. 

“So, uh, as for your family … we just need to know where to set up for filming our one-on-one interviews with each of you,” Pen explained, hoping that by getting the ball rolling on filming, things might start to seem a bit more normal. Perhaps, she reasoned, they were all nervous to be on camera; that could explain their absence.

“We figured as much,” Francesca nodded. “My mother has prepared the parlor room down the hall.”

“Great. I was thinking we could do the one-on-one interviews in sibling order, with Anthony going first. I think we can start in a half-hour or so. Would that work?”

“I’m sure they will be amenable to that,” Francesca responded politely. “I’ll go upstairs and let them know. Anthony should be down shortly.”

Francesca walked past Penelope, exiting the room in a hurry. Pen headed outside to let the crew know where to set up, then headed to the parlor room herself, unpacking her own bag quickly to find her one-on-one interview notes. 

Thirty minutes later, Anthony appeared in the doorway, accompanied by a stunningly gorgeous woman with dark hair holding a wiggly, cooing baby.

“Penelope,” he said; as always, Anthony had a way of talking that made it seem as though he was perpetually out-of-breath from the many tasks he had to handle as the oldest son in such a large family.

“Hi Anthony!” Pen grinned; she had always loved the oldest Bridgerton, fascinated by his ability to be such an archetypical type-A, driven individual. “How have you been?”

“Well,” he answered shortly, then turned to point to the woman and baby. “My wife, Kate, and our son, Edmund.”

“So nice to meet you!” Penelope called over to Kate, who responded with a gracious smile. “What an adorable baby, Anthony!”

Anthony looked at his watch. “Shall we begin?”

Penelope furrowed her brow; she had thought Anthony might be at least a little bit warmer to her, considering he had always been kind to her in the past; but again, she chalked it up to television nerves. She motioned for Anthony to sit in his chair before taking her own seat behind the camera and signaling to Genevieve to begin filming. After Anthony introduced himself on camera, Pen dove into more questions:

“How would you describe Colin to our audience watching at home? What sorts of qualities does he bring to a romantic relationship?”

“Well, Colin is our most sensitive brother who has been through his fair share of heartbreak, which has been really difficult to see considering how loving and caring he is,” Anthony said, his voice low and somewhat severe.

“I see,” Pen responded. “And how do you think the family is going to embrace the woman he’s bringing here today?”

“We embrace anyone our family brings to our home with open arms and loving hearts,” Anthony said, “and we sustain that welcome for as long as it is warranted.”

Okay … kind of a weird answer, but maybe we can edit it , Pen thought. “You mentioned Colin has gone through some heartbreak? Did you want to elaborate on that at all?”

Anthony’s eyes narrowed. “No. I think we’re done. I’ll send Benedict in.”

He rose from his seat, quickly unhooking his mic and handing it to Genevieve before swooping an arm up behind Kate and Edmund and heading out the door.

“Not the friendliest chap,” Genevieve commented, adjusting the camera angle slightly.

“Never has been,” Pen said, “but the next brother is super friendly.”

“Oh yeah! I’ve seen his TikToks before. Funny stuff,” Genevieve smiled.

On cue, Benedict appeared in the doorway.

“Hello, Penelope,” he said calmly. “Where do you need me?”

“Hi Benedict,” Pen smiled. “How have you been? It’s been so long, right?”

“Just fine. Want me in this chair here?”

“... Sure,” Pen hesitated. This was very unlike Benedict to be so short and unfriendly. She led him to the chair to sit down as Genevieve hooked up the mic, the two of them exchanging a few pleasantries and laughs. Once Genevieve was back behind the camera, Benedict turned back towards Penelope as she launched into the interview.

“How has it been to see Colin on a dating reality show?” she asked with a small smile.

“Honestly, we are all just happy to see him putting himself back out there again,” Benedict said. “He’s been through a rough time when it comes to his heart.”

“Yes, Anthony mentioned that … can you elaborate a little more? Did he have a relationship that went sour recently or something?”

Benedict stared at Pen, furrowing his brows slightly. “This will be the first woman Colin has dated in years.”

“Oh,” Pen replied, somewhat surprised. “Interesting.”

“Very,” Benedict said sharply. “Anyway, that’s likely enough from me, yes? I’ll send Daphne in.”

Just like Anthony, he hopped out of the chair and pulled the mic off, handing it to Genevieve with a smile before exiting the room without so much as a second glance to Penelope. As he headed out, Daphne walked in immediately, clearly having been just outside the room waiting for her turn. The beautiful eldest sister was the picture of elegance, looking like a model in designer clothes and 2.5-inch heels that she managed effortlessly. She gave a polite smile to Genevieve, accepting the mic pack before taking a seat, avoiding eye contact with Penelope the entire time.

“Hi Daphne,” Pen said in her friendliest voice. “Your children are beautiful; I think it’s so sweet that you ended up with Simon! I remember you both really liking each other back in the day.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about the past,” Daphne said curtly. “What questions do you have for me about Colin?”

“Oh, right,” Penelope thumbed through her notes. “Let’s see … what do you think are his greatest strengths as a partner in a relationship?”

“Colin is the most big-hearted, selfless, and fun person I have ever known. I cannot imagine why someone would ever not want to be with him. He is simply a good person – the very best, and all we want as a family is for him to be happy,” Daphne said, her voice terse and short. “We simply hope that whoever this woman is, she will be someone who recognizes his positive traits and who will not take his kindness and generosity for granted.”

“Of course,” Penelope said quietly.

The realization finally sunk into Penelope’s brain – something was very, very wrong here.

“Eloise is not up for speaking at this time,” Daphne continued, removing her mic pack. “I will send in Francesca.”

After Daphne left the room, Penelope ran through Francesca, Gregory, and Hyacinth quickly – three more Bridgerton siblings; three more awkwardly short, tense interviews. After Hyacinth all but stomped out of the room, Genevieve placed a gentle hand on Penelope’s shoulder.

“My dear,” Genevieve said calmly, “did you do something to piss this family off?”

“I’m not entirely sure.” Penelope felt her heart race a little quicker.

“They are all extraordinarily short with you,” Genevieve continued. “And they’re glaring at you like they want to beat you up and take your lunch money or something. I thought you had told me that the Bridgertons were very friendly and outgoing. I hope we aren’t going to have a dull, uninteresting hometown date. Charlotte will be pissed.”

“I think maybe they must be uncomfortable with the cameras or something,” Penelope said. “Surely their mom will be friendlier. Nothing rattles her.”

Violet entered the room next, a vision of matriarchal regality in a long blue dress and impeccably brilliant, sparkling jewelry. Penelope smiled graciously at her, expecting Violet to embrace her in a warm hug; however, she strolled past Penelope to sit in the chair, silently gazing off behind Pen as Genevieve hooked up the mic pack.

“More of the same,” Genevieve whispered through her teeth as she walked back behind the camera.

“Mrs. Bridgerton,” Penelope began, trying her best to sound cheerful despite her utter confusion. “It’s really wonderful to see you again; I had been looking forward to it.”

“It certainly has been a while,” Violet responded with a polite but forced smile. “I do hope that this show is sincere in its efforts to create a romance. I have to admit, I am quite skeptical.”

“Well, I think our show is as authentic as it can be, depending on the participants’ level of belief in the process,” Pen said quickly. 

“Well, I am not concerned about Colin. When he cares for someone, he does so with his entire heart. That’s why he becomes so shattered when his feelings are not reciprocated. He’s such a sensitive soul. I just hope someone isn’t going to hurt him at the end of this process, especially when he is only just now putting himself back out there after many years of heartache.”

“Yes, you all keep mentioning this heartbreak,” Pen said, urgency creeping into her voice. “Can you perhaps elaborate on that a bit?”

“Oh, Penelope,” Violet sighed as her fingers began to flutter up to her mic, working to remove it.

“What?” Pen dropped her head to the side, bewildered. However, Brimsley knocked on the door just as she began to speak again.

“Pen, I just received word that Colin and Marina are off their flight,” he interrupted. “I’ll be headed out with the van to pick them up.”

“Oh, wonderful,” Violet answered for Pen as she rose from her chair, then turned directly to Genevieve. “We’ll continue on with the filming process once they are here, yes? Thank you.”

A second later, she floated out of the room, leaving Penelope completely dumbfounded.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure these people all hate you,” Genevieve said nonchalantly. “How odd considering … well, I hope this isn’t too forward for me to say, but Colin seems to like you more than the princess … at least, he’s seemed that way every time I’ve watched the two of you interact.”

Penelope massaged her temple, at a loss for words.

“I think I’m going to take a couple of minutes to regroup,” she said finally, grabbing her phone from her bag. “I’ll let you know once Colin and Marina are here.”

“I’ll start prepping for their arrival shot,” Genevieve nodded.

Pen stepped into the hallway, peering down either side. It was eerily quiet again; she could vaguely hear a toddler’s voice from upstairs, but otherwise, the only noise came from a large antique grandfather clock gently clicking in an adjacent room. Relying on her memory, Penelope began to walk towards the Bridgerton kitchen, wondering if she might be able to snag a glass of water quickly before she tried to prepare herself for the rest of the day.

She walked into the giant kitchen, still familiar with its marble countertops and perfectly clean stainless appliances; Pen had always marveled at how they somehow managed to keep everything free from fingerprints or dust despite there being so many family members constantly digging into the refrigerator and freezer for snacks. Counting three cabinets in from the left, she opened it to find rows of tall drinking glasses, all stationed exactly how she remembered them being. She pulled one out and headed to the sink, pouring a glass of cold water for herself and savoring a few sips with her eyes closed. 

Sighing, she lowered her glass and looked directly into Eloise’s face.

“Helping yourself?” Eloise asked, tilting her head slightly.

“Oh! Eloise,” Penelope’s hand began to shake like a leaf despite her best efforts to stay collected. She lowered the glass into the sink heavily, praying a quick thank you to the glass drinkware gods that the cup didn’t shatter.

“Penelope,” Eloise said, close-lipped, a bastion of stolid indifference.

They stood for a silent beat, each woman staring at the floor in front of them, unmoving.

Finally, surprisingly, Eloise spoke first: “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I think so,” Pen nodded slowly, still looking at the floor. “If you’re up for it.”

“I am,” Eloise said slowly. “I’ve had a lot of years to think about it. Swings outside?”

“That works,” Penelope whispered, heart pounding. 

The two exited out the back door of the kitchen, which led directly into the Bridgertons’ backyard. Penelope, despite her nervousness, almost smiled at the sight of the two old rope swings that hung from the large, solid oak tree; she was instantly awash with memories of sitting in those swings and watching the Bridgerton siblings play, quarrel, and party with one another during her visits to their home. She sat in one, feeling the rope grow taut as she wrapped a shaky hand around each side. Eloise sat in the other swing, knocking up a little cloud of dust and dirt as her feet brushed against the earth beneath them.

“I don’t want to waste time here,” Eloise said without hesitation. “I’ll be frank with you, Pen: I do regret how things went down at my birthday party, particularly on my end.”

Pen looked at her; she was surprised at Eloise’s sudden admittance. Her former friend was on a roll, however; the words tumbled out of her quickly.

“I was so pissed that you were accepted to that program over me. It was all jealousy; I see that now, with the years between us, but at the time, all I could think was that you were trying to show me up in front of my family. To be honest, it was the same bitter response I would have had to one of my siblings; if anything, it shows you how close I really considered you at the time. You were basically like a sister to me. Unfortunately, I treated the situation accordingly; I didn’t really stop to consider that you weren’t a sister trying to one-up me.”

“If I could go back to that night,” Pen responded quietly, “I would have just kept my mouth shut when Colin asked me about the program. I never meant to hurt you by telling your family about it.”

“I know you didn’t. I severely overreacted,” Eloise finally looked up and into Pen’s face. “And for that, Penelope – I am truly sorry.”

Penelope stared at her, her mouth slightly agape in shock.

“You know I don’t love admitting when I’m wrong,” the corner of Eloise’s mouth turned up in a tiny smile. “But I wish I could go back and do things differently. Moving out of our room was a totally rash decision that I regretted like, a week later. My new roommate sucked – I had to listen to Nickelback on repeat for the entire semester. It was positively maddening.”

Pen managed a small laugh at that.

“I wish you had reached out then,” Pen said after a moment. “We could have patched things up so quickly.”

“I was embarrassed by how I acted. Embarrassed enough that I couldn’t even think about how to begin to approach a rekindling of our friendship. So, I just let it slip away,” Eloise said, her voice sounding undeniably regretful. “In any case, when I saw your name on that email last night … I don’t know, Pen. I couldn’t sleep. I knew I had to try to make amends with you. I spent all night thinking of how I could approach you; I almost got cold feet about it; that's why I ditched our interview. But then, you were in our kitchen ... it was like the universe was giving me another chance.”

“God, I’m glad you said something. I know it probably wasn’t easy,” Pen smiled. “I’ve … I’ve missed you, El. For a long time.”

“I’ve missed you too, Pen,” Eloise smiled back at her.

For a moment, they were silent, swinging back and forth calmly. Then Eloise spoke again:

“How would you feel about trying this whole 'being friends' thing again? I wasn’t sure how busy your schedule would be while you were here in town, but I wondered if you might be able to find time to run out with me and grab a drink? We can chat more and catch up on, what is it, six years of conversation? I need to know what you’ve been reading this whole time – my nightstand stack of books is completely dry.”

“I’d love that, El. Truly. Tonight, in fact. Put in your number?”

Pen handed her phone over to Eloise, who typed in her contact information quickly before giving it back.

“I sent myself a text from your phone so I’d have your number too,” Eloise said. “It’s a date, then. I’ll think of a place we can go where we won’t be harassed by townies.”

“Sounds amazing,” Penelope said, pausing for a breath before she continued: “Not to be weird, but I’ve noticed your family has seemed … different from how I remember them. Honestly, they seem kind of pissed at me. I’m guessing that’s because of our fight?”

Eloise scrunched her eyebrows, looking at Pen strangely. “Our fight? Oh, no. My family is royally pissed at you because you broke Colin’s heart.”

“Because I what?!” Penelope went rigid. Eloise returned her incredulous stare with her own look of bafflement.

“Yeah. I mean, I was never pissed about that situation – more just perplexed. At first, I had the impression that you had a little crush on him, and that the two of you just had a weird drunken makeout session in our hot tub. I didn’t know it was like, this whole thing between you two.”

“No, your first impression was right,” Penelope said.

“Really? Colin acted like he had been pining after you for ages,” Eloise said. “He said you just stopped replying to any of his messages, and he couldn’t figure out why, other than maybe you just wanted to cut him out too after fighting with me. He honestly begged me to apologize to you right away; I was just too young and dumb to do so.”

“I was mad at him, El. I overheard the two of you that night in your kitchen; I heard him saying he made out with me out of pity,” Pen said quietly.

“Yeah, that was 100% a lie just to placate me,” Eloise laughed. “Damn. You heard that? Jesus. I honestly barely remember that conversation. God, I’m an idiot. I wish I had apologized to you sooner; maybe our family could have avoided a lot of drama over the last six years.”

“Drama?”

“Well, Colin moped around for about half a year after you stopped talking to us. Then he acted a little more like himself, but only when no one brought up love or relationships or anything like that … if you did, then he went right back into his mopey self. Then, I think it was three years after we stopped talking … that New Year’s Eve, Benedict or somebody asked him if he’d ever tried to reach out to you … Colin was so piss drunk, that at just hearing your name, he rambled on and on about how you were the love of his life; that he’d never be with anyone else, and he’d do anything to be able to talk to you again. He even said he was keeping track on Instagram of all the places he was going to take you one day,” Eloise winced. 

“Christ,” Penelope choked out in horror. “El … I had no idea he felt this way. At least, not until very, very recently.”

“Really? Damm. We always knew he had the capacity to be a hopeless romantic; we just never figured the emphasis would be on the hopeless part,” Eloise sighed. “Everyone was so excited about this show because they thought that maybe, finally, he’d be getting over you and moving on with his life. He has literally never spoken about dating anyone or seeing anyone in years and years. Then when we saw your name on the email, everyone was absolutely gutted on his behalf.”

Penelope clutched a hand to her chest, suddenly feeling very ill. 

“How has he been with you? Have you all been able to patch things up or anything like that?” Eloise asked.

“He’s been … “ Pen paused, searching for the right words; finally, she said wistfully: “He’s been absolutely wonderful to me.”

“Well, I guess now you know why,” Eloise shrugged. “And is he serious about this chick he’s bringing today?”

“It’s complicated,” Penelope responded. “The show makes things weird.”

“Say no more,” Eloise held up her hand. “That’s your politically correct way of telling me he’s not into her. I can tell.”

Pen began shaking her leg nervously. She heard Eloise swallow hard.

“Are you … I mean, would you consider getting to know him again?” Eloise asked quietly. “I mean, I am probably the only one in our family who wasn’t completely pitying him these past few years; I personally thought he was being rather melodramatic about it all, but I know he’s a sensitive boy. There’s always been a little part of me that has wondered how the two of you would have gotten along if you had, you know … dated, or whatever.”

“It’s so hard, El. It’s something I never thought would ever be in the realm of consideration for my life. But he’s said things to me and shown me things that, now I realize, have indicated how serious his feelings have been for me. It’s just … we have this show, and I’m supposed to do my job and help him get to the end with Marina …”

“And if there wasn’t a show?”

Pen only paused for half a second: “I’d love to be reacquainted with him. In fact, I’d love for us to be very close.”

“I’ll stop you right there before we get too weird,” Eloise said with a small laugh. “Shit. This has all entered serious Bridgerton family meeting territory. I’d love for them to know that you had no idea about Colin’s feelings so that maybe they’ll tone down the disdain for you.”

“That’d certainly be nice,” Penelope looked gratefully at El. 

Pen’s phone buzzed with a notification from Brimsley: Approaching in 3 minutes.

“Colin and Marina are almost here,” Pen said, hopping out of the swing. “I have to let Genevieve know so we can be ready to film.”

“I definitely won’t be able to talk to my family before then,” Eloise said worriedly as she hopped out of her own swing. “What do we do?”

“Play along with the show. Marina is probably going to cut Colin after this visit anyway since he hasn’t made any sort of indication to her that he’s interested. Then we can talk and figure out … I guess whatever it is that comes next.”

“Can do,” Eloise said; with a quick reach of her hand, she squeezed Pen’s shoulder. “The more I chat with you, the more I realize how much I missed you, Pen. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, I swear. I’ll help you get everything sorted out with my family and Colin.”

“I missed you too, El,” Penelope smiled. “Let’s get all of this over with.”

Penelope had never been a huge fidgeter, but as she waited for Colin and Marina’s car to pull up to the mansion, she was practically dancing her own one-woman Riverdance show, a complete production of unease. As the black SUV pulled up in front of the house, she took a moment to rub the tips of her fingers together in each hand, willing herself to breathe deeply and calmly.

It’s just a show, Pen.

Speaking with Eloise went better than you could have ever expected.

It’s just a show.

The Bridgertons will come around and like you again. Colin will be sure of it.

It’s just a show.

Marina is going to cut Colin. This hometown date is just for show.

It’s just a show.

She tapped on the glass of the window, and Colin rolled it down quickly.

“Well, hello there,” he smiled brilliantly at her.

“Hi,” she couldn’t help flashing a smile back before whispering: “We have quite a bit to catch up on.”

Colin raised an eyebrow at her, but Marina had pulled her headphones off her ears and was now leaning towards the window to listen to Penelope as well.

“Hi Marina,” Penelope greeted kindly. “Okay, Genevieve is all set up for a shot of you two getting out of the car and approaching the house. Your family is just on the other side of the door, Colin. We’re going to try to get an authentic first take here, but if something goes awry, we can always reshoot, okay?”

“Sounds good,” Marina said; she patted Colin’s shoulder sympathetically. “Let’s get this over with so I can cut you loose, Bridgerton.”

Penelope walked back towards the house and notified Genevieve that they were ready to begin. After a countdown and a wave of Genevieve’s hand, Marina and Colin exited the SUV and headed up towards the house. Penelope noticed that Marina had dressed casually for the occasion, donning blue jeans and a burgundy mock turtleneck; she looked as though she were entering someplace where she expected to be comfortable and at ease. Pen wondered if the Bridgertons would be extra protective of Colin’s heart, considering they all believed Penelope had broken it; Marina’s down-to-earth style might come across as too relaxed to seem like she actually cared.

Colin gave a short knock on the door, then leaned over to Marina’s shoulder.

“Batten down the hatches, Thompson. My family’s a lot.”

Marina smiled: “Bring it.”

The door swung open, revealing the entire Bridgerton clan waiting on the other side. There was a moment’s pause, and Pen wondered if they might need to cut and go for a reshoot. However, Hyacinth’s voice rung out from the back of the group:

“Colin!”

She pushed her way through and ran up, throwing herself in her brother’s arms as he laughed, picked her up, and spun her around. Beside him, Marina gasped with delight at the happy reunion. Before she could fully turn back around to face the family, Hyacinth had grabbed hold of her in a big bear hug; Marina’s eyes grew wide in happy surprise.

“Marina! We’ve been watching you on t.v.! Sorry you’ve had to put up with my idiot brother, but we sure are glad to meet you!” Hyacinth said cheerfully.

One by one, the Bridgertons engulfed them – first Colin in hugs and how’ve-ya-beens, but they all moved onto Marina as quickly as they could. Daphne complimented her hair and makeup; Anthony mentioned he appreciated her discerning eye when it came to the other suitors; even Gregory brought up his interest in law as a career, asking her if he could pin her down for a few questions later. Only Eloise held back, smiling pleasantly, but reticent to join in the enthusiastic welcome. 

Finally, the sea of Bridgertons parted ways, and Violet made her way through.

“Sweetheart,” she said, pulling Colin close for a hug, gently running a hand down the back of his head. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too, Mom,” he replied, squeezing her before pulling back.

“And aren’t you going to introduce me?” she said, nodding towards Marina.

“What?” Colin looked at her blankly for a second before coughing back a laugh. “Oh! Mom, this is Marina. The ‘princess,’ if you will.”

Violet reached out to rub Marina’s shoulder, then pulled her in for an embrace, gently kissing her cheek.

“I’m so happy to meet you, Marina,” Violet said kindly. “From what we’ve seen so far on t.v., you’re a lovely young woman. We’re so pleased to welcome you into our home today.”

“Thank you,” Marina replied politely. “Colin warned me that you all would be a lot, but I can handle a lot when it’s a lot of happiness.”

A chorus of aww s erupted from the entire group.

Penelope felt just the tiniest wave of nausea.

“Anyway,” Colin coughed again, interrupting the moment, “are you going to keep us out here in the cold all afternoon?”

“Of course not!” Violet laughed. “Come on in, both of you. We have a lovely lunch set up in the dining room, then we thought we might play some Charades this afternoon.”

“Throwing Marina right to the wolves with a Bridgerton family game,” Kate smiled, placing a hand on Marina’s shoulder. “Don’t worry – you’ll soon see they’re a loving bunch, despite their competitiveness. Best to bring your a-game or they’ll run all over you.”

“Don’t worry,” Marina replied. “I can definitely hold my own in a game.”

“Marina!” Hyacinth ran back up to her, grabbing Marina by the hand. “I know Mama will want to sit next to you, and I suppose we’ll have to let Colin have the other side, but will you sit across from me so we can chat about the music you like? Pretty please?”

Colin hung back as Marina was swallowed into the group, leading her to the dining room with a whirlwind of conversation. He caught Penelope’s eye; she took the opportunity to grab him by the hand and pull him into the parlor room.

“Did you set them up to pretend like they love her or something?” Colin asked curiously. “They seem … a little over-the-top happy to meet Marina.”

“More like you set them all up to hate my guts!” Penelope groaned. 

“Wait, really?” Colin seemed confused.

“They’ve all been as cold as ice to me since I’ve been here. They think I broke your heart, Colin.”

“I’ve never said that!” Colin protested before rubbing a hand on the back of his neck. “At least … never explicitly. They are all rather good about jumping to conclusions.”

“And they’ve concluded they hate me,” Penelope said, trying her best to hide the dejection in her voice. “Maybe you could set them straight at some point so I’m not fighting death glares from all of them while we’re here?”

“What exactly am I setting them straight about?”

“Colin!” Penelope was exasperated. “I never broke your heart!”

“You didn’t?” Colin narrowed his eyes. “Have you looked at the Instagram?”

Penelope lowered her head. “Yes. I’ve started to.”

“And?” He looked at her like an eager student begging for good marks from his teacher.

“Colin …” Penelope swallowed. “I don’t know what to say. It’s the most wonderful thing anyone has ever done for me. I’m going through it very slowly, so I’m far from finished, but each photo you’ve shared and caption you’ve written … you know you’re an incredible writer; I can imagine myself there with you in the detail you use. But it feels so beautifully poetic and intimate as well … like a secret shared between you and me. I cannot tell you how flattered I am by it.”

Colin beamed, eyes shining. 

“We’ll have to chat about it when we have more than two minutes to talk,” Penelope said, wringing her hands together. “I do have a lot to say about it. But for now, for the sake of my work this weekend, please Colin – you have got to call your family off my back.”

“I suppose I could,” Colin hummed. “But as you can see by that Instagram, ghosting me for years was pretty upsetting.”

“But we weren’t even dating? And did you ever consider that my heart was a little broken too?”

Colin’s face fell slightly; he reached for her hand, which she gave him for just a moment before pulling away.

“We’ll talk more soon,” Pen replied. “But we have a show to do for now, so talk to your family, please. All of them except Eloise, at least. She’s fine.”

“Hmm,” Colin looked thoughtful for a moment. “Wait, did you say Eloise? Did you speak with her?”

“Don’t change the subject,” Penelope crossed her arms.

“Shit; yes, okay, I’ll talk to them,” Colin said quickly. 

“Thank you,” Pen sighed. “And yes, I spoke with Eloise – ironically, I think she’s the only member of your family who doesn’t hate my guts right now.”

“Well, that’s wonderful,” Colin smiled. “I can’t tell you how happy I am about that.”

Brimsley’s face peeked around the corner of the door frame; he was silent, but raised his eyebrows at Pen, clearly indicating that they needed to wrap it up.

“Go have lunch with them. Maybe I can pull Marina for an interview at some point or something and you can talk to them,” Penelope said, putting a gentle hand on Colin’s back to push him back towards the hallway.

“I’ll do it. Just be strong for now, Pen. I’ll get them back on your side,” Colin grinned. 

They headed down the hallway to lunch; Pen could see that the Bridgertons were all already seated and breaking bread. Instead of chattering amongst themselves, most of their heads were turned to the head of the table, where Violet was chatting with Marina.

“Sorry I’m late,” Colin said, sliding into the empty chair on the other side of Marina. “What’d I miss?”

“I was just telling Marina what a kind boy you are,” Violet smiled softly at Colin.

“Oh, Mom,” Colin rolled his eyes. “You’re supposed to brag about what a tough guy I am. Talk about all the fights I’ve won and whatnot.”

“Colin,” Violet said, pursing her lips as if she wanted to scold him but simply couldn’t, choosing to laugh instead. “On the contrary, really. I was telling her that of all of my children, you are the one who is most like your father.”

What little noise had been buzzing around the room cut to silence at that; Colin swallowed deeply, his eyes dropping down to the table in front of him, clearly at a loss for words. Pen hovered in the doorway to the dining room, just behind Genevieve’s camera; she watched as Genevieve motioned to the camera operator to zoom in on Violet’s face.

“Edmund was so similar to Colin,” Violet said quietly, looking at Colin proudly before turning back to Marina. “Just a sweet, gentle soul. Always putting other people ahead of himself. Always quick to lighten the mood with the perfect little dose of humor – just enough to diffuse a tense situation and to make everyone focus on the happier side of life again. Edmund was a good, good man – the best. There are qualities of him that I see in all of my wonderful sons, but Colin truly has Edmund’s heart.”

“That’s so sweet to hear,” Marina replied softly, reaching out to take Violet’s hand.

“It’s why I’m so happy whenever Colin comes home. It’s almost like we have a little piece of Edmund back with us again, too.”

Penelope heard light sniffling – Daphne and Francesca were both blotting back tears with a napkin. Even Benedict and Anthony looked emotional, their eyes glistening.

“And you know what, Marina?” Violet squeezed her hand. “Edmund was such a sensitive soul – it took him a long time to give me that first kiss, too. He wanted it to be perfect. I felt like I had to wait forever … but when he finally kissed me, it was worth all the worry and wonder. So don’t give up on our Colin.”

Another chorus of aww s from around the table.

Colin shot a worried glance to Penelope behind the camera. However, Penelope barely registered it – she was laser-focused on Marina.

Marina was crying.

And Pen’s world spun as Marina sniffled and softly replied: “I won’t.”

Chapter Text

“Danbury and Cressida are here,” Brimsley whispered as he rushed by Pen; he reached out and gave her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. “Need anything?”

“A lobotomy,” Penelope groaned, still staring at Marina and Violet as they shared their touching moment. Danbury and Cressida being temporarily tied up with production activities had been a blessing for Pen’s nerves; now, she needed to steel herself to deal with their scrutiny on top of the Bridgertons’. It was already challenging enough to manage the stress she felt from having an entire family consider her the world’s biggest heartbreaker.

“Damn. It looks like it’s going well?” Brimsley glanced over at the lunch table. “The family seems to really like her.”

“They do,” Pen said softly.

“Well, good for you, right? Maybe you’ll win Charlotte’s prize money after all.”

Of course. Penelope struggled to understand exactly how she had become so unfocused on the $50,000 prize. Her head knew she still needed it; she was at a loss, however, of how she could clean up the mess of Marina’s popularity with the Bridgertons, Colin’s clear feelings towards her, and her own jumbled up heartstrings.

Her eyes continued to follow Marina as she happily laughed with the Bridgerton siblings, enveloped immediately into their conversations about families and work. Beside her, Colin looked sullen, eyes fixed at a spot on the wall that he stared at with more intensity than Pen had ever seen him have before. As Pen watched them, Danbury and Cressida sailed into the room behind her, a bundle of impatience.

“Friedrich’s family is balking at the hometown date,” Cressida explained, sliding beside Penelope as she texted furiously on her phone. “Apparently neither his family nor Samadani’s were prepared to have guests this week. Charlotte’s last minute idea kind of screwed us over. I’m desperately trying to find some of their more obscure relatives to host them – long-lost uncles, random cousins, ugh … it’s a nightmare!”

Danbury peered over Pen’s shoulder at the lunch table.

“They all seem to be getting along,” she said curiously. As if on cue, Marina and the other women at the table burst into giggles.

“She definitely hit it off with them,” Penelope said, shifting uncomfortably.

“Good work, Featherington. You must have prepared everyone well.”

“If she ends up keeping the Bridgerton boy after all of this, I swear,” Cressida rolled her eyes. “Has he kissed her yet?”

“No,” Penelope choked out.

“He better not humiliate her,” Cressida warned, peering down at Penelope suspiciously. “Did you prepare him to do something affectionate?”

Penelope gulped. “Absolutely,” she lied.

“Good.” Cressida’s eyelashes fluttered back to face her phone. “I was going to grab Marina after lunch to interview, but I think I’m going to need to make a few phone calls to try to sort out these other hometown dates instead. Will you snag her for an interview question or two; maybe get her reaction to the Bridgerton family before everyone starts playing games?”

“Yes, of course,” Penelope said, wishing she could do literally anything else.

As the Bridgerton family began to break away from the table, Cressida wedged her way in between them, whispering to Marina and motioning to Penelope. Marina nodded and began to follow Cressida as they walked back towards Penelope. As soon as Marina had made it a few steps away from Colin, Eloise ran over and snagged him by the elbow, dragging him quickly away from the table.

“Marina’s ready for you,” Cressida said coolly as they approached. 

“Fantastic,” Penelope forced a smile. “Come follow me.”

Pen led Marina down the hall to the room where they had been filming one-on-one interviews, anxiety mounting with every step. An awkwardness hung in the air between them that reminded Penelope of her teenage years; embarrassing recollections of being an awkward, introverted adolescent paired up for a school project with the most popular and effortlessly cool girl in her class. As Genevieve helped set Marina up with a microphone, Penelope tried to recenter herself.

“So, Marina,” Penelope sighed, desperately trying to constrain her nerves, “how has it been meeting Colin’s family?”

Marina looked thoughtful for a moment.

“It’s hard to describe how I feel right now,” she finally said. “Honestly, I was not expecting much – I knew he had a big family, so I just assumed I would get lost in the shuffle. To be embraced so warmly by each and every one of them has been a pleasant shock.”

Penelope felt herself shrink.

“I was always really close to my parents growing up, but I didn’t have brothers or sisters,” Marina continued. “And now, of course, it’s just my son and me. I had never really considered the warmth that comes from being around so many people with so much love to give. There’s something really enticing about that, you know?”

“The Bridgertons are certainly forthcoming with their affection,” Penelope said through a gritted smile. 

“And when Violet said it took her husband a while to show her how he felt … it kind of explained Colin to me a little more,” Marina said as her eyes floated up to the ceiling in contemplation. “Maybe some things just take time, right?”

Penelope swallowed hard. “So has this changed how you feel about Colin?”

“I’m not sure. It has sort of explained why he is the way he is. It’s easy to get drowned out in a family this big, especially when there are so many loud, boisterous voices. I can see how he might need a little more time and space to really feel like he can express himself,” Marina said. “And if I’m being honest … maybe I haven’t been as forthcoming with trying to be affectionate with him. He might be expecting someone to be more … bold if he’s used to such an openly loving family. Maybe he’s used to someone else making the first move.”

Penelope suddenly felt like her entire world was beginning to tilt off its axis.

“This seems like a bit of a … change from how you had been feeling about Colin,” Penelope said, swallowing hard.

Marina shrugged. “Maybe? Or maybe this experience is giving me a little more clarity.”

“Okay, I think we have plenty filmed for this one-on-one!” Penelope turned to Genevieve, her voice raising to a high pitch. “We can probably cut it from here. Thanks for your time, Marina!”

Marina leaned forward in her seat to speak calmly, composedly to Penelope:

“Do you not like my answers or something?”

“What? Oh no; this has been fine!”

Marina narrowed her gaze at Pen. “Are we off the record right now?”

Penelope turned to Genevieve, who nodded slowly.

“Great. Listen, I have always felt like Colin has been weird about this process – sometimes enthusiastic about things like the joke or the shell, but never able to fully let his guard down,” Marina said, her voice low and verging on accusatory. “I always figured it was him and his weirdness; but frankly, your actions and attitude towards me have been awfully strange – both today and in Salt Lake. Do you not want Colin to win or something?”

“Of course I want him to win,” Penelope stuttered.

Unexpectedly, she recognized that she was, for the first time, completely sure she was lying.

“Okay,” Marina leaned back. “That’s good to hear. His family is so sweet and wonderful, it almost makes me want to try being a little more affectionate with him. See if that awakens anything within him. That wouldn’t bother you, right?”

“That’s the point of the show, isn’t it?” Penelope said hoarsely.

“Great,” Marina shot her a smile. “I think we’re done here, then.”

“Will you let Danbury and the others know that I’ll be a minute?” Penelope said to Genevieve after Marina left the room.

“Certainly,” Genevieve said, nodding and resting a supportive hand on Penelope’s shoulder. “Everything okay?”

“It’s fine,” Penelope bit her lip.

“We’ll get set up to film the game, but we won’t get started without you. Take a few minutes for yourself.”

As Genevieve made her way out the door, Penelope took a deep breath. She was unsure of how Marina would now be interacting with Colin, and the idea of her being more affectionate with him was surprisingly filling Penelope with dread. Penelope could feel her eyes starting to well with tears; it seemed like whenever she managed to untangle an issue and latch onto a moment of clarity for herself and her feelings, some other issue popped up to complicate matters even more. Even after finally resolving a six year long conflict with Eloise; even after she was finally starting to come to terms with how she felt about Colin, Marina had managed to throw a wrench into the entire situation. She hated feeling unnerved and out of control.

Blinking through her tears, she pulled out her phone, navigating to Instagram and opening up a photo:

“San Francisco, California. Imagine my disappointment at traveling all this way to catch a glimpse of the famous Golden Gate bridge, only for it to be completely covered in fog every single day I’ve been here. What a metaphor, huh? One of the most magnificent sights on earth (and beautifully red, ironically), but I’ve been completely blind to it this entire time. At least this wasn’t from my own stupidity; no, this has been entirely out of my control. Upon further reflection, however, it’s made me realize how much more appreciative I need to be when I can control my actions around the marvels in front of me. I know for certain I’ll love and revere the day when I can bring you here, Pen – but full warning that it’ll be a one-way ticket. We’ll stay as long as it takes for us to see this damn bridge clearly, fully, uncovered, bare in all its glory. And I will absolutely cherish it all – the bridge, the moment, and the unbelievably incredible person I’ll be sharing it with.”

Pen closed her eyes for just a moment, basking in the warm glow she felt after reading Colin’s words. A hiss from the doorway, however, interrupted her thoughts:

“Penelope!”

She glanced over; Eloise was poking her head in the door.

“I lied and said I was headed to the bathroom, but I only have a minute. Are you going to watch the game?”

“I have to,” Penelope said.

“Perfect. Colin and I just chatted, and we have a plan,” Eloise grinned devilishly. “He was very concerned that we don’t completely fuck up your show, but we’re going to definitely plant the seed with our family that Marina and Colin are not end game.”

“Do you want to explain this plan to me a little more?” Penelope felt slightly justified in her concern; as she remembered it, the enthusiasm behind Bridgerton family plans was often inversely proportional to the amount of detailed planning that went into them. 

“Trust us, Pen. We’ll steer everybody the right way,” Elosie said, shooting her an encouraging thumbs up. “I’m headed back out with the group. Wish us luck!”

“No switching teams!” 

Penelope walked into the doorway of the Bridgerton drawing room, just behind Genevieve’s cameras, to see the family bickering over seats, apparently with only half of the family members satisfied with their team assignments. Anthony stood sternly at the front of the room holding a fish bowl filled with tiny slips of folded white paper.

“Our final team assignments are myself, Daphne, Colin, Frannie, and Hyacinth versus Kate, Benedict, Simon, Marina, Eloise and Gregory,” Anthony said. “We’ll go one at a time; you have sixty seconds to get through as many words as possible, each worth one point. No talking, no sound effects. Got it?”

“It’s not fair that they have an extra team member,” Hyacinth moaned.

“Gregory doesn’t know anything unless it’s related to something he can buy on Steam,” Benedict laughed, batting a hand to the back of his brother’s head. Gregory yelped and grumbled in protest.

“Plus, we had to split up the couples,” Eloise chimed in. “They have an unfair advantage; sharing brains or whatever it is that makes people love one another.”

“Don’t let Kate and Eloise steamroll you, Marina,” Simon warned. “These games get very aggressive, very quickly.”

“I won’t,” Marina grinned, looking directly at Colin. “I know how to hold my own.”

“Alright, then,” Anthony held up the fishbowl. “Who’s going first?”

“Seeing as I am the man of the hour,” Colin started, eliciting a chorus of groans, “I think it’s only fitting I go first.”

Penelope held her breath, anxious to see whatever plan it was that Colin and Eloise had hatched up. Colin hopped to the front of the room, grabbed the fish bowl from Anthony, and dug a hand in.

“Timer?” Colin glanced at his mother sitting at the side of the room; she nodded and turned over a small hourglass. Colin opened up the small paper, stuffed it into his pocket, and quickly did quotation mark signs with his fingers.

“Word or phrase,” Anthony said loudly, eyes intently glaring at Colin.

“We don’t need your narration, Anthony!” Kate shot back from across the room.

Colin held up a hand and began furiously scribbling in the air, biting his bottom lip as if he were concentrating intently.

Daphne tapped her finger on her chin. “Writing, write, to write, I’m writing …”

“Those are all the same fucking words!” Anthony snapped at his sister.

“Language!” Violet called out as Hyacinth and Gregory snickered.

Colin pointed to his hand dramatically and went back to his air writing.

“Something you’re writing with … a pencil?” Frannie guessed out loud. Colin groaned in frustration, waving his hand to indicate she was close.

“A pen!” Anthony shouted; Colin pointed to him and silently cheered. “Some sort of word or phrase involving a pen … the pen is mightier than the sword?”

Colin shook his head no, and instead began giving a thumbs up sign. 

Penelope sighed deeply and brought a hand to the side of her temple – oh, God. This is terrible .

“The pen is … thumbs up? A pen in a thumb? The pen goes up?” Daphne shook her head, confused.

“Thumbs up for pens!” Anthony shouted furiously.

“Time’s up!” Violet called out, holding up the hourglass.

“What was it?!” Daphne cried out.

Colin shrugged, looking disappointed. “Never mind.”

“Well, what did your paper say?” Anthony asked. “Your clues were absolutely dreadful, whatever it was.”

“I lost it,” Colin shrugged again.

“You lost it?” Anthony looked at him incredulously. “But didn’t you–”

“I think Marina should have a turn next as our guest of honor!” Hyacinth cried out, interrupting the brothers and pushing Marina gently off her seat on the couch.

“I’d be happy to!” Marina said cheerfully, stepping up to the front and digging a hand into the fish bowl. She smiled at Violet, who flipped over the timer, and clasped her hands together, sprawling them open to indicate a book.

By the time her timer had finished up, Marina had expertly acted out five different slips of paper for her team; they cheered and patted her on the back as she found her seat again.

“You’re a natural!” Benedict said kindly. “Damn, glad you’re on our team!”

Next up was Daphne, who managed to snag three points for her team to put them on the board, although Penelope noticed Colin sulking instead of guessing. As Eloise volunteered for the next turn, Penelope braced herself for what she assumed would be the next stage in their plan.

Eloise drew a paper and stuffed it down the front of her shirt, nodding at her mother to flip over the timer before doing air quotes to her team. She then began tapping one side of her wrist with her fingers.

“Tapping?” Gregory called out.

“No shit, she’s tapping,” Benedict laughed.

“Language!” Violet said sternly.

“A watch?” Simon guessed, and Eloise waved her hand to indicate he was close.

“Clock?” Kate’s voice grew more and more excited as her competitiveness bubbled to the surface. “Time?!”

Eloise jumped up and down, nodding her head and pointing at her.

“Time!” Kate repeated again. “Time to … time to go, time to eat, time is ticking …”

Eloise took a finger and circled it around the entire room.

“Time is … time is round?” Marina furrowed her brow.

“Ocarina of time!” Gregory said enthusiastically.

Eloise shook her head furiously, opening her eyes wide and pointing at each person in the room.

“Time … for family?” Kate was practically standing at this point, staring as intently as one could possibly stare at Eloise, who nodded enthusiastically. “Time for family! Is there more?”

Eloise nodded, and began to tap her fingers to her thumb like a puppet.

“What the fuck?” Benedict burst out laughing.

“For the last time, language!” Violet said sternly, then glanced at the hourglass. “Oh dear. Time’s up, Eloise.”

Eloise groaned, looking behind the camera at Penelope apologetically. Pen could only shrug her shoulders in return; as she had feared, Eloise and Colin’s attempts to steer the game were less than successful.

“Well? What was your phrase?” Kate asked.

“‘Time for a family talk,’” Eloise muttered, slumping back in her seat on the couch next to Marina. Her family exchanged confused glances.

“Is that a common phrase?” Simon pondered, peeking over at his wife. Daphne looked deep in thought; she glanced over at Colin, who was still staring vacantly at the wall in front of him, clearly uninvested in the game.

“Are you alright?” Daphne nudged Colin, who wiggled uncomfortably at her touch.

“I’m fine,” he said gruffly. “Listen, can we pause for a bathroom break for a few minutes?”

“Seriously?” Anthony sighed dramatically. “I suppose.”

“Production needs a break as well, so it’s good timing. We’ll take twenty,” Genevieve called out to the Bridgerton family.

“Good plan,” Danbury nodded in agreement. “I’ll check in with Cressida to see how our other family visits are coming together.”

Penelope stayed silent, keeping her eyes locked on Colin, who rose from his seat and crossed to the other side of the room, walking behind the couch where Marina sat, pulled into an animated conversation with Kate. Standing behind her, he leaned forward and placed his hands on her shoulders; she practically jumped with shock at his touch, looking up at him curiously. He leaned forward over her even more, letting his hands sink to the seat of the couch on either side of her.

Penelope felt her heart drop as he planted a quick kiss on Marina’s forehead.

“I’ll be back,” he said, standing up quickly and stuffing his hands in his pockets. Keeping his head low, he scurried out of the room through the side door, far from Penelope.

Marina lit up; Kate placed a hand on her knee with a knowing smile.

“Did you get that little kiss?” Pen could hear Danbury saying to Genevieve. “Cressida will be thrilled!”

Penelope felt a little like dying.

Suddenly, Pen’s phone buzzed. A notification popped up from Eloise Bridgerton:

Hey.

Pen looked up. Eloise was still sitting next to Marina on the sofa, a vacant expression on her face as Daphne prattled on about the difficulties of having two children so close together in age from her own seat across the room. 

But more importantly – Eloise’s phone was nowhere to be seen.

Pen opened up her messages and texted back:

?????

Her phone buzzed again.

It’s Colin. Did you notice my stealth move?

Pen’s face twisted in confusion:

You mean that kiss?

Colin’s reply popped up after a few moments of typing: 

*Forehead peck, let me correct you really quickly. I give the same to Daph’s babies. And you know me well enough to know that was done with an ulterior motive. I nicked El’s phone while I was leaning forward for that peck. 

Pen’s fingers flew:

You took her phone? Why?

To communicate secretly with you, of course. It's your fault for making me turn in my phone when we started shooting weeks ago. Anywaaaay, I’m in the upstairs bathroom, 2nd door on the left. Come up?

Pen panicked.

OMG. No! Colin. Come back downstairs. We are in the middle of filming!

Nope. I’m done with filming this stupid thing. Come upstairs.

Colin … we have to film this. You have to be here.

Nope. You give me no choice – I’m headed out the window.
You can find El’s phone and my mic pack on the floor up here if you need it. Later.

Penelope choked, launching into a coughing fit that turned every head in the room directly at her. Sputtering, she waved a hand at all of them.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Just need a bit of fresh air, I think.”

As she spun around and headed out into the hallway, she could just barely hear Eloise’s confused voice call out, “Hey, has anyone seen my phone? I thought I had put it right beside me …”

Pen bolted as fast as her legs could carry her outside, cursing the size of the giant mansion as she ran around it, her eyes peeled to the second story windows. Finally, she spotted Colin’s long legs dangling out one of the windows, one toe gently reaching out and pawing for a tree branch on the oak growing next to the house.

“Colin!” Pen shouted, hoping her voice wouldn’t cause him to drop; she lowered to a whispered hiss as she added, “are you trying to fucking kill yourself?”

“You think I’ve never snuck out a window before?” Colin shot back, pushing off the window to launch himself into the tree as Pen felt her heart skip a beat. “This window exactly, actually.”

“And what are you going to do now? Hide in the tree the rest of the day?”

“Sounds lovely. But no,” Colin said, climbing down the branches as twigs and leaves snapped and fell to the earth ahead of him. He hopped down off the last branch, landing hard on the ground. “Let’s go, Pen.”

He grabbed her hand, practically running as he led her around the side of the house towards the massive Bridgerton garage.

“What are you doing?” Pen cried.

“Jacking Anthony’s car for a bit,” Colin said, fumbling in his pockets and retrieving a set of car keys. “He’ll forgive me.”

Colin pressed a button on the keys; the lights on the silver Mercedes GLE SUV parked in front of one of the garage doors flashed. 

“Come with me,” Colin said, eyes desperate. 

Pen groaned as she noticed the yellow ‘Baby on Board’ magnet on the back of the SUV.  “I am not going to be an accomplice in a grand theft auto on your brother’s family vehicle, Colin.”

“Just sit in it with me for a minute,” Colin pleaded. 

“You’ll drive off,” Pen folded her arms across her chest.

“What’s an extra kidnapping charge when I already have grand theft auto? Come on, Pen. Please?”

Pen sighed. she was exhausted by it all – the strain of filming, the Bridgertons accepting Marina with open arms, the pressure of trying to win a show for money for her mother – all of the stress had added up like a wobbly Jenga tower, higher and higher, until she knew that all it would take was one wrong nudge for everything to come crashing down.

God – the idea of running away from it all with Colin sounded so wonderfully relieving.

Suddenly, nothing else in the world was more enticing – it was as if every other option for handling her situation had disappeared completely. Running away with Colin was now the only thing that made sense. 

Slowly, as if someone else was moving her body for her, she turned to Colin and gave him a baffled nod.

Colin lit up with the most relieved, excited smile she had ever seen; he ran to the passenger side door and opened it up, waving an arm to encourage Pen to get inside. Once she was in, he practically sprinted to the other side, jumping in and starting the car immediately.

“You don’t have any way for them to find us, do you?” he asked Penelope nervously. “They don’t put a tracking device on your phone or anything, do they?”

“We’re safe,” Pen couldn’t help but laugh. 

Colin nodded, determined, before peeling out of the parking spot and taking off down the long driveway as fast as he could, maneuvering through the curves swiftly and expertly. He glanced over at Pen in the passenger seat, a sly smile on his face.

“Damn,” he finally muttered, still grinning.

“What?” A smile crept up on Pen’s mouth too; his joy was becoming more and more contagious.

“I always dreamed of this, Pen. You in my passenger seat,” he reached a hand over and gently squeezed her knee.

“Anthony’s passenger seat,” she corrected with a smirk.

“Ugh. Don’t phrase it like that.”

Pen burst out laughing.

Colin reached the end of the driveway and turned left, accelerating down the street quickly as he headed out of their wealthy neighborhood and into more of the countryside. After a minute of driving, the road narrowed ever so slightly as either side of the pavement became more canopied with trees and greenery. Finally, Colin slowed to turn onto a smaller dirt road that led into a more wooded area on their right.

“Are we trespassing?” Pen asked cautiously.

“It’s just a little service road for work vehicles. This is a family friend’s land; they won’t give a shit if we’re on it. Anthony and Benedict have probably brought every girl they know out here at some point. The landowners know the Bridgertons are the only people dumb enough to drive a nice Mercedes out here.”

The car bumped and rocked along as Colin rolled it over the dirt. Finally, they approached a small clearing; Colin pulled the car to the side, slightly off the road, and put it in park. With a sigh, he sat back in the driver’s seat, closing his eyes, letting his head hang over the back of the seat.

“You realize you’re never going to convince me to go back to that house, right?” he said, rolling his head over to gaze at her.

“You’ll miss the game,” Pen said, a sneaky smile creeping up on her lips. “You were doing so terribly at it.”

“What?” Colin’s mouth popped open. “Excuse you. There I was, using my precious turn in the game to try to convince my family that you’re the wonderful person they remember.”

“You can’t just tell them that outright? You had to concoct weird charades clues with El?” Pen looked at him skeptically.

“Weird clues? ‘Pen is good!’” Colin said, exasperated, quickly reenacting his air-writing and thumbs up. “I thought it was obvious. It’s not my fault my family can’t deduce something simple from my perfect charades skills.”

“I’m not sure ‘Pen is good’ would have solved the issue with your family, Colin.”

“It could have been a start,” Colin mumbled. “I told you I was going to get them back on your side; I didn’t want to let you down, Pen. It was the quickest thing Eloise and I could come up with. I’ll talk to them more later, when this stupid show is done.”

Penelope reached a hand over, returning his earlier gesture by squeezing his knee. He closed his eyes again and let out a soft hum as he smiled contentedly. 

“Let’s just hide out here forever,” he mumbled, his eyes still closed. “I’m so sick of all of the bullshit – my family, the fucking show … I just want to hide in the woods with Penelope Featherington.”

“Okay,” Pen replied quietly as she shrugged. “Let’s hide.”

Colin peeked one eye open to look at her. 

“God,” he uttered deeply, “I want to kiss you so fucking bad right now.”

Pen’s mouth dropped open for just a second before she closed it, unable to contain her smile. Suddenly, she was 19 years old again, and her roommate’s tall, hot brother just admitted he wanted to kiss her; and, like a teenager, any lingering inhibitions or deliberations of consequences flew directly out of the realm of consideration for her.

“Sorry if that was brutish. That really came out of my mouth without thinking about it. I seem to have a problem with that around you,” Colin said a little uneasily; Pen could tell he was spiraling, regretful, worried he had offended her.

“No,” Pen shook her head slowly, almost unable to believe what she was about to say: “I want to kiss you too.”

That was all it took – Colin was absolutely feral. He practically leapt over the center console, grabbing for her head to pull it into his; lips hot as he pressed into hers fervently, sucking at her mouth like he was dying of thirst and she was the only drop of water for miles and miles. With one hand, he reached for the lever to recline the seat back, only to press into her too hard as he pulled it. They went tumbling back with the seat; as Pen gasped from the shock of it, Colin dove into her mouth again, plucking the noise right from her lips and swallowing it himself with a moan.

“Pen, Pen,” Colin uttered over and over again, breathing the words into the skin on her neck. “You sweet, gorgeous girl. God, I want you.”

Colin was on top of her, one hand bracing himself just high enough to keep most of his weight from crushing her (although she secretly contemplated how much she would enjoy it). His other hand tickled up from her waist to her chest, and to demonstrate her compliance, she pressed her chest up and forward into him, opening and widening it like a blooming flower.

“Every part of you is beautiful, Pen, but these,” his fingertips danced over the tip of her breast, “these are absolutely exquisite.”

He caught her glance, his eyes dark and shining. She nodded her consent, and he grinned wickedly, yanking down the top of her shirt and bra before diving into her with his hand on one breast and his mouth on the other, both of them kneading, pawing, rolling her around in a way that was absolutely divine. Pen stifled her instinct to cry out; instead, she buried her face in Colin’s shoulder, muffling her call by sinking her teeth into his skin just slightly.

Colin groaned: “You don’t have to hold back, baby. Make your mark.”

Baby.

It was Pen’s turn to lose it. She grabbed the hair on the nape of his neck, pulling it down slightly to expose the flesh on the front of his neck for her. She reached her lips up to his exposed skin, pulling at it and nipping at it, relishing in the way she could feel his pulse throbbing faster and faster. She pulled at his hair again, and he rolled his head into her hand, his eyes closed.

“Fuck, baby,” he purred. “I’m yours. Whatever you want, I’ll do it.”

Pen let her hand fall from his head down to his jaw, cupping his chin and cheek with her open palm, taking in his heady stare. 

The reality of their situation suddenly flooded over her.

She couldn’t do this. She had a show to do. She had a show to win.

She sat back slightly as her anxieties took control over the situation just as fast as her passion had.

“We can’t,” she whispered. “I want to. God, I want to. But your family … and the show …”

“Oh, God, Pen,” Colin groaned loudly, rolling his eyes as he fell back into his seat. “And just like that, the moment is over. Fuck this show. And I am trying with my family.”

“We both have to finish out this show, Colin. We have contracts …”

“Can you please tell your bosses that I need to be done with it?” Colin said.

“I mean, you’re still in the running,” Pen said sadly.

Colin snapped his head to look at her. “You can’t be serious.”

“Marina really likes your family,” Pen continued quietly. “I think she might keep you around for the final dates. They’re overnight ones, you know. The ‘Happily Ever Overnights.’”

“Pen, what are you saying?” Colin looked at her like she had completely lost her mind, a notion that Pen admittedly couldn’t deny. “I’ve sabotaged so much of this show because I can’t help how I feel about you. I showed you the letters I wrote for you on Instagram for years. I just kidnapped you into the woods to spend ten minutes with you, alone. I don’t know how else to show you that I am completely in lo–”

“Colin, I need the money,” Pen blurted out without thinking.

“The money?” Colin shook his head. “What money?”

“We get prize money if the suitor we’re producing goes to the end,” Pen gulped. “$50k. My family needs it, Colin. My mom needs the money to save our family home.”

“Money? I’ll give it to you,” Colin said desperately. “Whatever amount you need. I’m serious, Pen. I can make one phone call and give it to you, easily.”

“Absolutely not.” Pen shook her head furiously. “I would never accept it from you.”

Colin’s mouth dropped open, and for a moment, Pen glanced at his eyes. She looked away quickly when she noticed the teams brimming at the edges of his lashes. 

The difficulty of the situation hung over Penelope like a guillotine.

“So winning the money is the only thing you care about in all of this?” Colin asked in a whisper, his voice hoarse.

“Of course not,” Penelope said, eyes still downcast. “I just … I don’t know what I think. This has all been one unexpected thing after another, without any time to let anything settle in my mind … I feel like I’m going crazy, Colin. The prize money is the only thing that’s for sure that I have to hold onto.”

“You have me,” Colin said sadly. “I’m for sure.”

“Colin …”

Penelope let her voice trail off as she swallowed the hard lump that had formed in her throat, blinking back the well of emotion bubbling up quickly in her entire being. Several beats of tense silence passed between them before Colin put his hands back on the steering wheel, turning the key in the ignition.

“I guess we need to get back. For the show,” he breathed, turning the wheel so he could pull the car out. “‘Happily Ever Overnights’ … Jesus Christ, I hate this corny show so much.”

The only person outside the house when Colin pulled back in was Brimsley, ducked behind a large bush in front of the Bridgerton house, clearly trying to be sly about breaking contract rules about vaping on location during filming. He and Penelope quickly exchanged a ‘you didn’t see me, I didn’t see you’ look between them as Colin parked the car.

“I’ll go in the back if you want to go in the front,” Colin said, bitterness clearly stinging in his voice. Not giving her a moment to respond, he hurried out of the car and headed towards the back of the house.

“Nobody’s looking for us?” Penelope asked Brimsley hopefully as she approached the steps.

“Not that I know of,” Brimsley said, following behind her as they went back up the steps. “The one sister is tearing up the entire house looking for her phone, and one of the babies threw up or pooped or something gross that took up a lot of attention.”

“Great,” Pen muttered.

“I’m not going to ask about that,” Brimsley motioned to the car, “but I hope everything is okay.”

Part of Penelope wanted to fall apart; to cry into Brimsley’s shoulder and tell him everything. But instead, she sniffed and straightened out her cardigan, staying silent as she opened the door to the mansion and stepped inside the foyer.

“Did you look upstairs, dear?” Violet could be heard in the other room.

“I haven’t been upstairs since this morning. I know it’s down here somewhere.”

Penelope realized Brimsley was correct – no one seemed to have noticed that she and Colin had disappeared for twenty minutes. Commotion rang off the walls of the entire house; she could hear a baby screaming in another room while more loud voices laughed in the background. Eloise tore into the hallway from the drawing room, grunting in frustration, looking frantic. At the opposite end of the hallway, Colin appeared, walking slowly, hands in his pockets.

“Colin!” Eloise shouted. “Have you seen my phone anywhere?”

“Oh, I might have,” he said, his voice hushed. “Let me run upstairs really quickly.”

“It’s not upstairs,” Eloise protested, but Colin was already bounding up the steps.

Meanwhile, the hustle and bustle of Genevieve’s camera crew added to the chaos of the house; camera operators with plugs and cords squeezed in and out of rooms, chattering amongst themselves in the technical language that Penelope still didn’t quite grasp, even after several years in television. 

Pen felt like her mind was whirring; like that time she had let Eloise talk her into splitting a joint in their room as teenagers, coughing into wet towels while her head spun so fast she felt sick. She felt out of control of every aspect of her body; her life.

“Penelope!” Cressida came strolling from the interview room. “Marina wants to chat with Colin for a minute in front of the cameras. Think you can have him prepped in five?”

“Of course I can,” Penelope said robotically. 

Colin came trotting back down the steps, fiddling with his microphone to get it set just right. “Found your phone, El.”

“The fuck?” Eloise snatched her phone from him. “How did it end up upstairs?”

“Language,” Violet said, appearing behind her shoulder. “And I told you you should have looked up there. Aren’t you glad your always-observant brother is home?”

“Sort of.” Eloise threw a snarky grin to Colin.

“Colin, can you come into the interview room?” The pandemonium continued as Cressida grabbed Colin by the arm, pulling him aside. “Penelope, you can come too.”

The two followed Cressida into the room silently. Marina was waiting in front of Genevieve’s cameras, head held high. She smiled and nodded at Genevieve.

“Rolling,” Genevieve called out. “You can start talking whenever you’d like, Marina.”

“Colin, being here with your family has meant the world to me,” Marina said; to Penelope’s shock, she reached over and took his hands as he approached her, squeezing them. “They are so kind and welcoming; clearly they love you so much. I never knew I could want a family this large, but after being here with them … I can only imagine how much they would enrich my life.”

Colin looked down at their hands, then back up at her, his gaze icy.

“I know you’ve moved slowly in this process,” Marina continued, “and I’ve been pushing you to do more. But I wanted you to know that I don’t mind if you take things slowly, Colin. I’m willing to slow the pace with you. Your family has made me realize that maybe there could be something between us, if I just give it time and space.”

Colin started to turn his head to look at Pen behind the camera; before he could finish turning it, however, Marina reached up and grabbed his face, assertively turning it towards her.

“I want to give this a real shot, Colin,” she said, staring into his eyes. “I think the Happily Ever Overnight date might be exactly what we need.”

She leaned forward into him, closing her eyes, clearing going for a kiss.

Before she could land it, however, Colin stepped back, shaking his head free from her hands.

“Seriously?” he said so quietly, Pen wondered if the microphone even picked it up.

Marina pursed her lips, a smiling still tugging at the corners of her lips, and shook her head slightly.

“I’ll win you over, Colin Bridgerton,” she said confidently.

Penelope felt someone moving behind her. A hand reached out and gently touched her elbow; as she turned around to look, she saw Danbury staring at the couple.

“I’m proud of you this season, Penelope,” Danbury said. “What wonderful television you’re making. Let’s wrap up our shoot here and get you back to your suite and Colin back to his. We’ll want to make sure both you and Colin are well-rested before we fly you back for the Happily Ever Overnight!”

Cressida swooped in, taking an arm behind both Marina and Colin to lead them back out to the Bridgerton family.

“I should probably stay with Colin to help him tie things up here,” Pen called after them, speaking more to Danbury than anyone else.

“Nonsense. It’ll take just a few minutes to wrap up filming here,” Danbury replied. “You pack up your things. Cressida’s got the prince and princess handled, and Brimsley is calling a car for you.”

Penelope couldn’t even muster the strength to think of another protest. Instead, dejectedly, she walked to her bag and began to pack up her things. Throwing her bag over her shoulder, she walked to the large arched window to stare down at the driveway as a large black SUV pulled up. Her chest arching, she heaved a deep sigh as she made her way to the front door.

She stopped for a moment after she stepped outside, turning to stare back up at the front door of the beautiful home.

She wondered if she would ever return to the Bridgerton mansion.

Turning back to the car, she had only just made it off the front steps when she heard the front door creak open behind her.

“Penelope!”

It was Daphne.

“‘Pen is good,’” Daphne said plainly. “I know what Colin was trying to say.”

Pen turned around to look at her, confusion etched in her brows.

“Something is going on, and we don’t have the full story. Am I right?” Daphne asked, stepping out onto the front porch. “You know Colin and I are closer in age than any other siblings in our family. I can tell when something is off, and he was melancholy the entire game after his turn. Then it dawned on me after Eloise’s clue … ‘Pen is good.’ ‘Time for a family talk.’ El and Colin have been trying to tell us that we don’t know the full story about you. Or that something is amiss with this whole show thing. I’m right, aren’t I?”

Pen couldn’t look at her; pain and nerves kept creeping up inside her, swallowing her up like the wisteria vines she remembered on the Bridgerton house in the spring..

“I’m so sorry, Daphne,” Pen said finally. “I have to go.”

Penelope opened the door, climbed into the SUV, and shut it as she tried to ignore Daphne’s mournfully compassionate face.

Chapter Text

“Lehde, Germany. I kayaked alone through the canals just after sunrise in Spree Forest today; I always think that finding quiet places or activities that I can do solo will bring me some kind of peace, but I am learning more and more that being isolated with only my own thoughts to keep me company just intensifies the persistent loneliness I feel as I travel. I keep chasing this hope that I’ll reach some version of enlightenment through these trips; or, if that’s too lofty of a goal, even tranquility would be preferable at this point.

But I keep finding little pieces of you, Pen. Here, the wind hits the branches over the water just right, and their sway and pull makes me think of how your hair moved when you stuck your head out my car window the last time I drove you and my sister, both of you belting that Lana Del Ray song that I never would have listened to on my own, but that suddenly made every single one of my playlists because it reminded me of you. 

Maybe that’s why I keep moving –  I can find these little tokens all over the world so I can always think of you. That’s certainly more preferable to staying still and knowing the crushing reality that my home is where you slipped through my fingers for the final time.”

“It’s down to the two baddest bitches here,” Tilley said as she slapped a roll of Mentos on the table in front of Penelope, shaking her out of her thoughts. “Stay fresh, Featherington. Freddie Fred Fred just might make me $50k richer.”

Penelope stuck a finger in the air and swirled it in a little circle. “I wish I could be more excited.”

“You’re not?” Tilley slid into the seat next to her, grabbing the Mentos and peeling the blue and white paper back before picking at the foil. “Hometown must have gone well for you. I thought the princess was not so keen on your little weirdo after Salt Lake.”

“Vice versa,” Cressida butted in from the back of the room. “And he’s still a big mystery. Marina’s convinced she can get him to open up on an overnight date, though.”

Tilley turned back to Penelope, narrowing her eyes and whispering: “You don’t seem happy about this.”

“No, I am,” Penelope said, faking a smile and blinking, as if the movement of her lashes would somehow verify the truth.

It was, of course, a lie.

And, of course, Tilley knew it. 

Penelope cursed herself for letting Tilley see her vulnerability in the bathroom near the Lover’s Respite; it was worrying that the most unhinged member of the crew knew, at least in a peripheral sense, about Pen’s past with Colin.

Tilley, however, seemed to be playing it cool. She sat back in her chair, glancing over at Cressida and rolling a Mento around in her mouth. Finally, she spoke up, loudly – almost too loudly:

“Has Big Paws been a huge pain in the ass to work with or something? He doesn’t seem like a dick, but I know some people are growers and not sho–”

“Good morning to the last women standing,” Danbury said loudly as she entered the room, cane rapping on the floor like an ominous reminder of what was to come. “I hope you’re all rested up, because the next two days will be a whirlwind. After that, our princess will choose her prince!”

“Or she’ll ditch them both and be happier for it!” Cressida smirked.

“Queenie would flip her shit,” Tilley laughed. 

“As long as it’s good television, she’ll be happy,” Cressida said, crossing her arms.

“Exactly,” Danbury directed a pointed finger at Cressida. “Penelope and Tilley, you both need to make sure your princes are prepared to pull out all the stops on their dates. Tilley, make sure Freddie is not so excited that he starts mumbling at breakneck speed. Penelope, for God’s sake, try to get that Bridgerton boy to make some kind of move.”

“What was the name of that movie? ‘He’s Just Not That Into You?’” Tilley looked back at Cressida. “You should have tried harder to get her to keep the vegetarian.”

“She wasn’t too thrilled with the idea of being the de facto lawyer for him. He was very excited that he might be able to get arrested more than once a month ‘for the cause,’” Cressida shot back. “And Colin’s family was like being folded into the Brady Bunch, as opposed to playing a 3-hour game of the Love Actually-themed edition of Monopoly with Samadani’s third aunt twice removed.”

“Damn, that didn’t make Marina feel it in her fingers, feel it in her toes?” Tilley popped another Mento in her mouth. “Anyway, who is up first?”

“Freddie,” Danbury tapped her cane on the ground for good measure. “In the meantime, Penelope, you can give your Bridgerton boy a nice pep talk.”

“Tell him hands off the ole you-know-what for the next 24 hours,” Tilley said as the room groaned. “What? It’s scientifically proven that you’re more tuned into your sexual desires if you avoid ja–”

“And with that, I’m off to make sure Marina is looking and feeling like the princess she is,” Cressida interrupted, standing up quickly and leveling her focus at Penelope. “May the best man win!”

“Well put. Penelope and Tilley, you may head back to the hotel and start prepping your suitors,” Danbury smiled coyly. “I’m looking forward to some very entertaining television over the next two days.”

Penelope’s phone would not stop buzzing. As she waited for Brimsley to bring Colin to the meeting room for their preparatory session, notification after notification popped up from the entire Bridgerton family. Eloise must have passed out her phone number to everyone, she realized, and now she was on the receiving end of numerous apologetic texts.

First, from Violet: Oh, my dear. I do believe we all owe you the biggest apology. Eloise told us the entire story after the film crew left; it seems my children were not completely forthcoming with the truth of what transpired so many years ago, and for that, I am deeply sorry. I knew it didn’t seem like your character to be so cruel to Colin, but I am also a mother, and our children have to know that we trust them. I am sure you will understand one day when you have little ones of your own. I am hoping we might be able to catch up once all of this is over – you have an open invitation to tea at our home at your earliest convenience. Sending you love xx.

Then, more texts rolled in one-by-one from the other siblings, starting with Anthony: Penelope, we’ve made a grievous mistake. Eloise has told us about all of it. We are a fiercely loyal lot, but also a prone-to-extreme-reactions lot as well. I apologize for not stepping in as the head of the family to find out the entire situation before making a judgment on your character. I hope you will forgive us.

From Benedict: Deep down, I knew Colin had to have fucked up somehow. So sorry we were all such dicks to you, Feathers. For what it’s worth, I remember thinking you were way cooler than either El or Colin back in the day – I’m sure it’s still true. Bottle of wine on me next time you’re in town.

And Daphne: I am so sorry we didn’t have time to chat more before you left. And I’m sorry I didn’t figure it all out sooner. Eloise has filled us in even more, and we all made a terrible, rash judgment about you without knowing the full story. Please forgive us, Penelope. We want to make it up to you. And I hope you’ll forgive Colin, too …

Francesca shot over a short-but-sweet apology, and both Gregory and Hyacinth texted their own version of apologies filled with emojis that made Penelope smile. 

Finally, Eloise texted: Hey there – so, everyone knows the whole story, is deeply mortified that they were anything other than loving and welcoming to you, etc. etc. We will have you out here soon to make up for six years of silence. In the meantime, I hope you and Colin are sorting out whatever it is that’s going on between you two. That dumbass forgot to delete the texts he sent to you from the bathroom while you guys were here. Keep me posted?

A quiet knock rapped on the door, and Brimsley stuck his head in: “Ready for Colin?”

“Send him in,” Penelope said, sticking her phone back in her bag. 

Colin burst through the door with all the fervor of an assassin ready to take out his target. Eyes locked on Penelope, he made a beeline to his seat, sitting on the edge of it and rubbing his hands together furiously.

“Let’s make another plan to run,” he said immediately.

“Colin,” Penelope sighed, glancing sideways before looking back at him. “We can’t run from this.”

“Why not? You have a phone,” he motioned towards her bag, his mouth slightly open as he insinuated that this was the most obvious conclusion to their predicament. “Just call a car for us. Or call my mother – surely Eloise has spoken to her by now. She’ll buy us both a plane ticket out of here, no questions asked.”

“You have to do this,” Penelope said quietly, shaking her head. 

“Why?” Colin’s eyes were desperate. “Just because of the money? I told you already, Pen, I will get it for you.”

“Even if I did let you give me the money … then what? I’ll be unemployed if I walk out of here. I’ll be blacklisted in the entire industry – everyone talks, and they’ll all know me as that producer who deserted the show in the final episode.”

“You won’t have to work if you’re with me,” Colin blurted out. 

“But I like my work, Colin. Maybe this particular show isn’t my favorite, but this is such a great step in the direction I’d like to go in this industry,” Pen shot back before shaking her head, blinking. “Wait … if I’m with you?”

Colin’s back slumped slightly as he cocked his head to the side, looking completely befuddled. “Well, of course. I haven’t made it completely obvious that I never want to even consider loving another woman?”

“Colin,” Penelope groaned, “you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Pen,” Colin reached across and grabbed her hands, squeezing them tight. “I have had six years to think about what I wanted to say to you. It’s all I’ve thought about on every flight; in every hotel room, alone; at every single beautiful place I’ve visited in the world. In all that time, the clarity of my thoughts has only increased. So really, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

Penelope sat in stunned silence, staring at how her hands were completely covered by Colin’s. She felt a little shiver as he rubbed his thumb gently overtop her skin.

“Haven’t you looked at all the posts I made on that account?” Colin said softly.

“Only a few,” Penelope admitted. “My first instinct whenever I open it up is to sit and read through them all, but quite honestly, they have been such a pick-me-up when I’ve needed them, that I’ve wanted to spread them out.”

“Pen, that’s all I want. Let me be your pick-me-up always,” Colin said emphatically. 

Pen bit her lip; she could feel the tears starting to form, and despite her desperate attempts to use that tip she had seen on social media once about pressing her tongue as hard as she could to the roof of her mouth, her tear ducts seemed to have a mind of their own. As one slipped out over her lashes and rolled down her cheek, Colin reached over and gently wiped it away.

“It kills me to see you cry, Pen,” Colin whispered. “After you told me that you heard what I had said that night at El’s party, all I could picture while I was trying to go to sleep that night was little 19-year-old Pen alone, crying because of a stupid thing I said that I never in a million years meant … fuck, Pen. I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to go back in time and strangle myself on your behalf.”

Penelope managed a weak smile. “Then you wouldn’t be here with me now.”

“That’s the only reason I wouldn’t,” Colin leaned over and kissed her knuckles. “Pen, there’s got to be some way we can fake this or something just to get us to the end of the process, right?”

“I think you have taken ‘faking it’ as far as it will go on this show. We can’t fake anything now without you actually showing some kind of affection towards Marina,” Pen said. “You need to have this overnight with her. And we need something on camera … a kiss; a good one.”

“No,” Colin shook his head. “I can spend the night with her and just sleep on the floor or whatever the situation is – I’m fine with that. But I cannot be affectionate with her, Pen. She’s not the woman I want to be with.”

“Colin, I would consider this a favor for me,” Pen reached over and placed a hand on his knee. “This might be exactly what it takes to cross the finish line.”

“And then what? Am I expected to see her after the show or anything like that? Or can I finally walk away from all of this?”

Pen bit her lip. “I mean, there’s usually a couple of follow up updates on the couples after the show, plus a tell-all interview with all of the suitors, plus a few appearances on morning talk shows …”

“Christ,” Colin sat back, crossing his arms across his chest. “I’m not an actor, Pen.”

“You have to try, Colin. This is a win-win, right?” Pen racked her brain desperately trying to think of excuses. “I’ll get the prize money, you’ll get more followers …”

“Hand me your phone and I’ll delete my public travel account right now. I don’t give a shit about any of that. I only care about you.”

“Colin,” Penelope was back to sighing; she took a deep breath and muttered: “Your family all texted me and apologized, by the way.”

“Good,” Colin said. “Now everyone will be on good terms when I bring you home with me.”

“You’re pretty stubborn, you know that?”

“You’re surprised?”

“I suppose not,” Pen groaned and sat back in her chair. “Listen, Colin: You can do this. Give Marina what she wants; give the show’s audience members what they want. If we manage to put this show behind us, then maybe–”

“If?” Colin was fully sulking. “You’re killing me here, Pen. After all that’s happened, how can you say ‘if?’”

“I just want to take all of this one day at a time,” Pen said. “This entire situation has been so overwhelming, I feel like I can’t think straight.”

“You’re right,” Colin said softly. “I know this has to have been so challenging for you; I haven’t made any of this easier. Let me think about how to handle tomorrow night.”

“Thinking about it didn’t work out very well in charades.”

“I’ll make sure it works out,” Colin said emphatically. “I’ll make sure you come out on top, Pen.”

She stared at him, taking in the seriousness in his icy blue eyes.

“I trust you,” she finally said.

“I won’t let you down,” he smiled.

“Lake Como, Italy. The Villa Balbiano is so stunning, I honestly cannot form coherent thoughts to describe it. 

Well, maybe one: this is the place where I would like to marry you.”

Penelope closed Instagram quickly. Her phone felt like a brick in her hand. 

Strangely, she realized she was clenching her jaw so tight that a tension headache was beginning to form on the left side of her head. She let her mouth relax open slightly, and closed her eyes as she tried to imagine the fibers in the muscles at her temple loosening, slackening; willing the pockets of pressure to separate and release.

As a producer, Penelope had never made it as far in the process as the final Happily Ever Overnight dates; she was a bit surprised at how many people were still involved with the show. The crew was set up outside a small, idyllic bungalow where the overnight date was supposed to take place. At the twilight hour, and with beautiful greenery in the yard outside, the small building seemed to breathe romance and intimacy – a thought that made Penelope feel queasy. Closing her eyes, she tried to push away any thoughts of Colin and Marina inside the bungalow.

“The final date,” she heard Brimsley whisper as he slipped beside her, holding a to-go cup out in front of her. 

The familiar scent of peppermint wafted up to her nose.

“Bridgerton slipped me all the rest of his per diem this morning when I was prepping him for travel,” Brimsley said with a wink. “He told me to get you a peppermint mocha no matter what it took.”

“I told him he’s not supposed to spend that on anyone but himself,” Penelope said, unable to hold back her smile.

“I wish a man was breaking the rules to buy me coffee,” Brimsley whistled as he exhaled. “I’m off to make sure everything inside the bungalow is all set. Need anything else?”

Penelope shrugged. “Hard to know what I’ll need, honestly.”

“A good ear later tonight, I bet.” As Brimsley smiled, Pen could sense pity oozing off of him; she bristled in response, a bit dismayed that he could sense her discomfort.

“I’ll be okay,” she smiled in return. “It’s just a show, right?”

“ Just a show?” Charlotte waltzed up to the pair, slinking her arm around Penelope’s shoulder. “My dear, you’ve made this a show our audience will never forget! I cannot believe that just a few weeks ago, your fellow producers were lamenting about your boring Mr. Bridgerton, when we’ve had a slow burn for the ages – and all thanks to you, Penelope Featherington!”

“Indeed,” Danbury appeared behind her. “If tonight goes according to plan, I think you might be sitting in a very different spot next season.”

“Here’s hoping!” Penelope hummed. 

Lying was becoming more and more challenging. 

“Reynolds is approaching in a few minutes with Colin,” Brimsley said as he looked down at his phone. “I’ll go retrieve Cressida and Marina.”

“Here we go, my dear,” Charlotte gave Penelope a squeeze on the shoulder. “A night to remember for everyone.”

“All cameras on standby,” Genevieve said, shooting Penelope a thumbs up. “This is going to go great, Penelope. I’m so excited for you!”

Penelope swallowed and tried to return a friendly gesture to Genevieve as the room seemed to tilt sideways, disorienting her. She stuffed her hands back into the pockets of her blue hoodie, trying to steady her breathing.

“Are you okay, Featherington?” Danbury cocked her head to the side, concern etched in her brows.

“All ready over here,” Cressida announced in a singsong voice, stepping outside the Bungalow with Marina on her tail. Marina was elegant as always, dressed in a sleek black satin jumpsuit. The material was so shiny, it reminded Penelope of the lingerie she always eyeballed enviously at her favorite lingerie store – cute satin nightgowns and teddies she wished she had a reason to buy.

Shit .

“I need to sit down,” Pen said suddenly as she felt her skin go clammy. She turned to try to bolt from the filming area, only to stop dead in her tracks as she noticed Brimsley rushing over to a black SUV pulling up behind her. Brimsley gripped the handle of the door and pulled it open to reveal Colin, who instantly locked eyes with Pen.

He had never looked better – the perfectly tailored gray suit hugged his frame just tight enough, and his hair looked handsomely tousled, complimenting the bit of stubble on his chin to make him look effortlessly sexy. The only disturbing thing about Colin in that moment was the look of concern he wore locked on his face as he stared at Penelope.

“Pen,” he said simply, hurrying over to her and putting both of his hands on her shoulders. “Are you alright? You look like you’re going to faint.”

Penelope panicked as she could feel the entire set staring at the two of them.

“Colin, you’ve got to get ready for the first shot,” she whispered back sharply.

“Get her some water,” he said, turning to Brimsley, who nodded and hurried away.

“You absolute sweetheart of a man,” Charlotte butted in, coming up beside Penelope. “Penelope is just fine! You’re so kind to be so concerned. Go ahead and stand by that tree – we’ll get ready to get a great shot of you walking up to Marina.”

“But she’s ill,” Colin argued.

“I’m fine, Colin,” Pen said, resolved to get him back on track. “Let’s just get through this, okay?”

Colin stared intently at her before nodding.

“Don’t worry, Pen,” he said as quietly as possible; sighing deeply, he parted from her and headed over to the tree.

Marina took her place next to the door of the bungalow, smiling towards Colin.

“Here we go,” Cressida said, coming up beside Penelope.

“Rolling,” Genevieve said, nodding to Colin. Pen watched as he took a deep breath and began walking towards Marina.

This is it.

Pen closed her eyes. In a flash, she imagined herself opening an old book in a library in Switzerland. 

Tracing arabesques in the Alhambra. 

Looking through the fog at the Golden Gate bridge. 

Drifting on a canoe in the Spree Forest. 

In a white dress at Lake Como.

And in each place, she had Colin by her side.

Suddenly, the world seemed to steady for a moment. 

She opened her eyes and watched as Colin stepped to stand in front of Marina.

“Hi there,” he said to Marina. “Listen, I know this is going to mess up a lot, but I’ve got to be clear about this—“

“Hi Colin,” she interrupted with a soft smile. “I think I know what you want to say, and yes … we need to talk.”

Penelope listened as she heard people all around her collectively inhale; if tension could be something tangible, Pen could certainly feel it shifting thickly through the air around her, so dense that it seemed to settle on her skin like a cold layer of sludge.

“Colin,” Marina said slowly before shaking her head, “I know you’re not in love with me.”

The painful silence continued as Penelope could feel her dread mounting – there went her $50,000 and, quite possibly, her career.

Then … Marina laughed.

Marina turned to look directly at Cressida.

“Can I finally do this?” Marina asked her.

Penelope whipped her head around to stare, shocked, at Cressida, who was nodding, wearing her trademark smirk proudly. Marina turned back to Colin; she reached down to take one of his hands in her own.

“Colin,” Marina said again, “I know you’re in love with someone else.”

To Penelope’s horror, Marina looked directly at her.

“It’s her,” Marina nodded at Penelope. “It’s been her this whole time.”

Terror and anxiety hit Penelope like a foot stomping down on her chest. Desperately, she looked at Colin with wide, fearful eyes, but he simply stared back at her peacefully; relieved. 

Pen felt a hand on her shoulder – Charlotte’s.

“We’ve all known, my dear,” Charlotte whispered in her ear.

Penelope turned around to face her fellow crew members. Charlotte and Danbury stood side-by-side with knowing grins; behind them, Cressida picked at her nails nonchalantly, fluttering her eyelashes at Pen with long, careless blinks. Even Tilley, Alice, and Will had appeared at some point behind her without her noticing, snickering amongst themselves.

“Talent night,” Danbury brought her cane forward as she stepped towards Pen. “A camera operator bumped into you and noticed a strange tension between you and Mr. Bridgerton. He let me know and, luckily, Genevieve had a crew member outside the theater taking a vape break – because for some reason, you all think I don’t notice these contract violations,” she said, narrowing her eyes at Brimsley specifically, “and he was able to capture some footage of the two of you on his phone.”

“Certainly not my favorite way to shoot, but authenticity is in these days,” Genevieve shrugged. 

“Christ,” Penelope brought a hand to her forehead. The room was spinning again.

Suddenly, Colin was at her side, one arm behind her back as the other reached for her hand. Pen squinted as she realized all of Genevieve’s lighting and cameras were now, much to her dismay, facing her.

“For the record, I suspected there might be a little romance in the air back at our very first kickoff meeting,” Charlotte said magnanimously. “Which is why I so brilliantly assigned Colin to you, and which is why I told you both to keep it in your pants early on. Good television needs a nice slow build of that juicy sexual tension.”

“And of course, I think I’m the only one who heard it from you straight,” Tilley said to Pen, puffing up proudly. “Tilley Arnold – world’s greatest confidante. I think I’ll get a shirt made.”

“We caught Colin sneaking out in the Maldives,” Will said as Alice nodded in agreement. “Genevieve sent one of her contract crew members out to catch him in the act. She said we’re lucky the moonlight was so bright that night – otherwise they wouldn’t have been able to get such a good shot of him switching out the shells.”

“And we figured it out after the first night,” Marina said, sharing a glance with Cressida. “He really did make a nice first impression with me, but once I saw him go over to you after I picked him for the first impression pin, I knew it was game over. It was super obvious that he was about a thousand times more excited to talk to you than to me.”

“Which was why I crafted the perfect plan to keep you invested in the game,” Cressida continued coolly, examining her nails. “I knew you might be likely to let Colin wear you down into letting him fail on purpose. Luckily, your mother is still your emergency contact on your employee paperwork – and it was pretty simple to craft a story with her to convince you to really go after the money.”

“Genius, really,” Charlotte said, clapping her hands in Cressida’s direction. “Absolutely worth rifling through personal employee records.”

“Wait a minute,” Penelope held up her hand. “You called my mother? And convinced her to lie about needing the $50k?”

“She didn’t need much convincing,” Cressida shrugged. “She was all too excited at the prospect of you having a fairytale love story on t.v., not to mention potentially marrying a rich Bridgerton boy.”

“I don’t –” Penelope’s voice trailed off as she stood, completely stunned, staring at everyone around her. The lights continued to blare into her; they were so hot, she could feel her eyes watering. She rubbed them furiously before pinching the bridge of her nose, inhaling shakily.

“My dears,” Charlotte stepped forward and reached her hands out to touch both Pen and Colin on the shoulders, “you were this season’s great love story.”

Genevieve slipped beside Charlotte, holding an iPad in her hands.

“Want to see the montage that’s going to play for the viewers at home?” Genevieve offered the iPad to Penelope, grinning eagerly. Pen took the iPad and looked up at Colin.

“Who doesn’t love a good montage?” Colin said with a grin, reaching in front of Penelope to press play.

Pen watched the video in wonder – Genevieve had captured everything. While her cameras were focused on finishing up a shot of the men fighting on the first night, she quickly panned over to get a shot of Colin lifting Penelope into a hug right after they had found out about the first impression pin. Marina was right; the grin on Colin’s face while he was hugging Pen was far more dazzling than any look he had ever shared with the princess.

Then there was the shot of them dancing outside the theater; two shadows in the chilly air, rocking back and forth so closely together that they looked as though they had melted into one another.

Next, they were in the Maldives – a shaky camera seemed to be angled at Colin as her approached the Lover’s Respite shoreline. Pen could feel more tears brimming in her eyes as she watched Colin scanning the shells, finally picking one up and chucking it as far as he could into the depths of the ocean.

“Sorry about our shell, Marina, but it had to go,” Colin chuckled, looking up at Marina as she returned his laugh.

“No offense taken,” Marina whispered, still giggling.

As the video continued, Pen watched Colin pull another shell from his pocket; carefully, he wiggled it into a secure spot by his feet before turning and bolting away. The camera moved forward and turned downward as it focused in on the shell. Squinting, Penelope could just barely make out the inscription on it:

I’ll always love you, Penelope Featherington. - Colin

Pen felt Colin squeeze her shoulders and kiss the top of her head gently.

“It’s true,” he whispered into her hair. 

“Jesus, my eyeliner,” Pen heard Tilley say. Turning to look at her, she could see Tilley blotting her eyes with a tissue.

“Are you finally growing a heart, Tilley?” Will whispered, elbowing Tilley in the ribs.

“It’s my allergies or some shit,” Tilley shot back quickly. “But I must say, Big Paws has a pretty impressive romantic side to him.”

Looking back at the video, there were even more small moments – smiles exchanged between Pen and Colin; shots of the two of them with their heads close together, talking quietly. Shockingly, there was even a shot of them hopping into Anthony’s car at the Bridgerton house.

“Ahh, fuck. I’m going to be in trouble for that one,” Colin sighed. “Worth it, though.”

The final shot in the montage was one of the two of them during their final chat together, shot through a cracked door that Pen had completely missed. Pen watched as Colin grabbed her hands and kissed her knuckles; looking at it from this angle, she recognized the unmistakable affection that poured out of both of their eyes as they looked at one another. As the video faded to black, Penelope felt Colin turn her shoulders to face him.

“Pen, I …”

Colin stared at her, clearly as moved by the video as she was. Searching between both of her eyes for an answer he likely already knew, he let out a small laugh before grabbing her face and pulling her into him for a long, passion-filled kiss. Around them, Pen could hear her fellow crew members hooting and cheering, but they seemed miles away as she melted into Colin’s embrace.

He pulled away just long enough to stare adoringly at her again.

“I love you, Pen.”

He dove back in for another kiss, much to the amusement of everyone around them.

“Get a fucking room!” Tilley’s voice rang out above the others. “Take the bungalow! I promise we washed the sheets between the last date and this one.”

The other crew members groaned.

“She’s right, though,” Charlotte said as Penelope and Colin finally pulled apart. “The bungalow is all yours for the night. May it be the first night of many you will spend together. And may you both always remember how your happily ever after came to be!”

Marina strolled up to the two of them, holding out a set of keys to Pen.

“No hard feelings?” Marina said, looking hopeful. “I’m sorry I had to keep acting like I wanted to win him over. Everyone involved with the show really wanted to get the two of you all the way to the end, and that kind of hinged on me acting like I still wanted him around.”

“Of course not,” Pen said kindly. “I just feel bad that we hijacked your own love story!”

“Not at all! I’m still the princess after all — and I found my prince. Truthfully, I’ve been into Freddie ever since our little dancing lesson,” Marina said cheerfully. “Plus, he has a summer home in Germany. How fun is that? I’ve always wanted my son to learn a second language.”

“And may you have many happy years together – danke!” Colin interrupted, plucking the keys out of Marina’s hand. “Sorry to interrupt, but I would like to finally spend some one-on-one time off-camera with the love of my life.”

“You’ve got the Happily Ever Overnight works in there,” Brimsley called out. “Champagne, snacks, fluffy robes; I even found some peppermint mocha k-cups for the morning.”

“He needs a raise,” Colin said to Danbury as he threw an arm around Penelope’s shoulder, turning back to address the entire crew cheekily: “Alright – I’m going to have to ask you all to get the fuck out of here now.”

“We’ll be back at 11 a.m. to get your final thoughts,” Genevieve said with a wink as the crew began to disperse. “Happy happily-ever-overnighting, you two.”

Colin looked down at Penelope; the joy on his face filled Pen with a warmth she had never felt before.

“Ready for the first night of the rest of our lives?”

She nodded before holding up one finger.

“I do owe you something, Colin,” she said.

Colin looked at her curiously. “What’s that?”

“I didn’t get a chance to answer you before,” Pen wove an arm behind his back, squeezing him close, “I love you too.”

A few hours later, Colin and Penelope sat by a crackling fireplace, sipping champagne in sleek flutes as they cuddled together under a blanket.

“So your plan was to just … tell her you’re done?”

“I just assumed that once I started talking, the perfect explanation would simply manifest,” Colin rubbed his shoulder sheepishly. “But it all worked out anyway, didn’t it?”

“Perfectly,” Penelope said dreamily.

“You’re not upset that you aren’t winning $50,000, right?” Colin asked her, kissing her temple. 

“Aren’t your lips getting tired?” Penelope giggled. “I think that’s maybe the millionth time you’ve kissed me since we’ve been in here.”

“Never. I have a lot of lost time I need to make up.”

“True. And no, of course not; I’m not mad about the money. I got the ultimate prize,” Pen said, tilting her head up to return a peck to Colin. “I’m more annoyed that my mom schemed with Cressida and lied about needing it – then again, that’s sort of on brand for Portia Featherington.”

“Well, she’s going to have her ultimate wish granted,” Colin shrugged, “so that should make her happy.”

“Her ultimate wish?”

“Yeah! Didn’t Cressida say she was excited for you to marry a Bridgerton?”

“Marry?” Penelope nearly choked on her champagne. “Aren’t we putting the cart before the horse here?”

“Do you know me to be anything but spontaneous?” Colin said with a cheeky grin. “Get through about forty more Instagram posts on that account – you’ll see that I might have made an impulse buy in Paris.”

“Colin Bridgerton,” Penelope sat upright. “You did not buy a ring for a girl who hadn’t spoken to you in years. Did you?”

“Eh,” Colin shrugged again, laughing as Penelope playfully shoved a throw pillow at him. “What?! I knew in my heart we wouldn’t be apart forever. I wanted to be prepared.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Penelope shook her head, ignoring how sore her cheeks felt from the smile that hadn’t left her face in hours.

“Say, speaking of that Instagram – why don’t we look through a few of the posts together? Since you said you had only seen a few of them.”

Penelope sighed, glancing at her phone.

“I want to savor them as long as I can,” she admitted. “Each one is like reading a love letter.”

“That’s exactly what they are,” Colin said softly before looking up, humming. “Now that’s an interesting idea …”

“What’s that?” 

“You said you want to make them last as long as possible,” Colin said, tapping a finger on his cheek. “What if we read each one in their exact location?”

“Colin,” Penelope’s eyes widened, “there’s 217 posts.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not saying we travel to 217 places.”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” he leaned down, kissing her again. “We might have to switch Lake Como and Paris – doesn’t make much sense to get married before you have a ring – but I think we can visit them all in order within a few years.”

Pen shook her head in disbelief. “I have to work, Colin!”

“We’ll figure it out. Haven’t you learned that I always have a good plan up my sleeves?”

“Like how you were just going to tell Marina you were done?” Pen narrowed her eyes at him.

“Moot point — it worked out.”

“Jumping out a window and stealing Anthony’s car?”

“Tear-jerkingly romantic with the added benefit of some suspenseful peril. Try again.”

“Telling a single joke for a talent show?”

“ My joke? Um, you know for a fact that that’s the most hilarious joke in the entire world. Mensa move, right there.”

“Charades? ‘Pen is good?’” Penelope glared teasingly. 

“Okay, I’m going to blame that one on El. And anyway, I could tell Daphne was just seconds from putting our clues together.”

“She did, actually. Chased me down outside to tell me.”

“See?! It was a genius plan,” Colin said. “Now let’s finish up this bottle of champagne so I can finally go make love to my future wife.”

“Colin!” Pen giggled.

“Oh, come on. Don’t tell me there’s another secret camera here.”

“I hope not. I’m not that kind of producer.”

Colin threw his head back and laughed. “Penelope Featherington! You little minx.”

He pulled her close, wrapping both arms around her and sighing contentedly as he pressed into her for another long kiss.

It had indeed felt like Colin had kissed her a million times that night – yet all Penelope could think about was how excited she was to experience millions of more kisses, every day, from the man she knew she would love for all eternity.

Chapter Text

“You’re lucky I’m so masterful with itineraries,” Tilley said as she smacked her gum, pulsing her finger as she scrolled through her phone. “I’m going to have Brimsley make a few calls just to double check our reservations, but your trip to Werfen should be absolutely sickeningly romantic.”

“Executive producer extraordinaire,” Pen held up her glass of wine for a quick toast.

“At least it’s real romance this time. Almost makes me feel a feeling or two,” Tilley said, looking around the bar. “Say, where did Big Paws go?”

“He ran outside to make sure his siblings knew where to come in. He also figured that a loud Bridgerton reunion would be better received outdoors,” Pen laughed. 

A few seconds later, the volume instantly increased as a parade of Bridgertons stormed into the bar, their conversations wavering between uproarious cheer and teasing bickering.

“Pen!” Eloise ran up to give her friend a hug. “I’m so glad you and Colin could make a stop for a few days.”

“Me too,” Pen squeezed her friend’s arms.

“I still can’t believe you get to travel around the world while producing your fiancé’s show. I’ll be honest, we never thought Colin’s stupid travel Instagram would lead to anything,” Eloise said. “That agency he signed onto must have been the most trusting group of people on the planet. I still can’t believe he convinced them to give him a whole ass t.v. show.”

“They were easily talked into the idea once they met Pen,” Colin said, sliding beside Penelope and planting a huge kiss on the top of her head. “How could they say no once they knew the subject of the entire main plot of the show was also an amazing writer and producer? She can do it all — both behind and in front of the camera.”

“And you managed to prove you were pretty entertaining on television yourself,” Penelope was quick to reply.

“Too bad you guys hadn’t brought me on board as E.P. before you came up with the name Love Letters on Tour,” Tilley gagged. “Once you’ve been sucked into the world of cheesy reality t.v. names, it’s hard to resurface. But a good idea is a good idea – and your show was a fucking great idea. I don’t regret my investment.”

“$50k in your hands was a dangerous thing. I’m glad we convinced you to spend it on something … legal. And best of all, it got you out of another season of Princess Seeking Prince,” Penelope reminded her.

“Amen. Cheers to that,” Tilley said, clinking her glass to Pen’s.

“Colin! Penelope!”

“Hi Marina!” Pen waved as Marina rushed into the bar, Freddie Frederich following closely behind her. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Actually, no. Well, maybe just water,” Marina said with a sleek smile, moving a hand to her lower stomach. Penelope’s mouth dropped open as Freddie stepped beside Marina, placing his hand on top of hers with a proud grin.

“Holy shit; that’s amazing news, you two!” Colin said, reaching his hand out to clap Freddie on the shoulder jovially.

“Congratulations!” Penelope breathed. “I’m so happy for you both!”

“Thank you,” Marina said, her eyes shining with joy. “I’m exhausted, but it’s been giving us an excuse to spend a lot more time just lounging on the couch together.”

“And thanks to you two, Tuesday is now our favorite day of the week!” Freddie said, rubbing his hand on Marina’s stomach.

“It sure is,” Marina nodded. “I’m always grateful for Tuesday nights so we can watch your show – it’s given us so many ideas for romantic trips we want to take in the future.”

“Well, keep watching. We still have a lot of posts to go through,” Colin said, reaching for Pen’s hand and squeezing it. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Daphne said as she ran towards them, looking at Pen’s hand. “I still haven’t seen this in person.”

Penelope held up her hand and wiggled her fingers; the dim light of the bar was still bright enough to catch the enormous diamond on her left hand.

“It’s gorgeous! Absolutely fitting for you, Pen. Well done, brother,” Daphne raised her eyebrows at Colin, who beamed with pride. “I didn’t know you had it in you to pick such a perfect engagement ring.”

“So where are you headed to next?” Eloise asked, sliding into a chair next to Pen. “Are you ever going to go back to that place with the shells?”

“Eventually,” Colin said. “I want to make that our last episode when the show is finally wrapped up. I want to take a picture of the shell and have it be the final Instagram post too.”

“But as for our next stop, it’s in Austria,” Penelope said. “Apparently we have a very full itinerary there, including some ice cave exploration. It sounds beautifully romantic, but I snuck a peek at the next post after that, and I have to admit – I am very curious.”

“The pancake?” Colin said. “Oh – I hope you’re ready.”

“Pancake?” Eloise raised an eyebrow. “Do I want to know?”

“It’s only the most delicious pancake I’ve ever tasted from the very best pancake house in good ole Virginia Beach, Virginia,” Colin said, on the other side of Penelope and wrapping an arm around her. “You know me, El – I have to make sure we are well fed.”

“That’s clearly a double entendre,” Tilley butted in as Eloise stuck her tongue out, gagging. “Gross … but I respect it, Big Paws.”

Colin tapped his glass to Tilley’s. “You’ve always appreciated my bits, Tilley. I’m glad we’re keeping you around.”

“Yeah, yeah … hey, how old is that youngest brother of yours now? He’s graduated college, right?” Tilley said, eyeballing Gregory on the other side of the room as Penelope groaned.

“Actually, I should introduce you to Benedict. You might match each other’s freaks,” Colin said, looking around for his older brother.

“Penelope!” a cheerful voice called from the bar’s entrance; Brimsley came practically skipping in, holding hands with a stoic but clearly smitten Reynolds. “We’re not too late, right?”

“Not at all! I think it’s just starting in a minute,” Pen said, glancing at the clock on her phone.

“You miss it at all?” Brimsley winked.

“Not in the slightest. Although I’m pretty interested to see the show with the gender swap.”

“Oh, that’s right – it’s Prince Seeking Princess this time, isn’t it?” Eloise said. “They didn’t get that weird vegetable guy as the prince, right?”

“I don’t think so, but I did hear it was someone from my season,” Marina said, looking up at the television. “Oh, oh, oh! It’s starting!”

As the patrons shushed everyone to silence, the familiar theme song rang through the crackling loudspeakers in the bar. On screen, a silhouette appeared as a voiceover began:

“A handsome, eligible prince with a God-given talent and years of accolade, only for all of his dreams to shatter as the unthinkable occurred. Despite the tragedy he endured, can he rebuild his life with that perfect someone by his side?”

The silhouette came into focus, showing a man looking down at his arm. There, tastefully drawn, was an elegant tattoo of a horse.

“This is all for you, Peppercorn,” the man whispered as a tear rolled down his cheek.

“This season on Prince Seeking Princess … will James Basilio gallop on the trail of love again?”

Penelope looked at Colin, who stared wide-eyed back at her.

They both erupted into laughter.

“God, I hate this corny show so much,” Colin said, wiping a tear from his eye as he caught his breath.

“I can’t hate it,” Penelope said, kissing him on the cheek. “This corny show brought me back together with you.”

“Damn. You’re so sexy when you’re right,” Colin said, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and lowering his gaze to look alluringly into Pen’s eyes.

“They’re so gross, aren’t they?” Tilley said to Eloise as she nodded furiously. “And like, weirdly obsessed with each other.”

“It’s called love, Tilley,” Penelope fired back. “A human emotion. You should try one sometime.”

“No thanks,” Tilley rolled her eyes. “Love turns creepy fast. All I could think about last month while all the shops were playing Christmas songs was how Big Paws was the kind of big weirdo in love that would get his girl a thousand birds as gifts like that one song ...”

“Hmm, a thousand birds,” Colin rubbed a hand on his chin. “Can’t say I won’t consider it.”

“How about a thousand ‘I love yous’ instead?” Penelope offered, pressing her lips together to ask for a kiss.

“Fewer feathers and less bird shit. I like it,” Colin said, answering her request with a quick peck. “I love you, Penelope Featherington-soon-to-be-Bridgerton. Don’t forget that Lake Como is just a few stops away.”

Penelope fluttered her eyelashes at him, absolutely melting in contentment.

“I love you too, Colin,” she sighed, kissing him again, “and I always will.”