Chapter Text
It was a truth, almost universally acknowledged (Colin felt obliged to admit that neither Eloise nor Gregory would agree) that Colin Bridgerton and Penelope Featherington were meant to be a couple. Not just any couple, either. End game. Soul mates. Husband and wife, blissfully happy, to have and to hold for ever and ever and…
Colin sighed and ripped up the paper sheet in front of him, balling it and sending it into the paper bin. Fifth attempt this evening, just one evening out of countless similar ones, the successful vlogger and writer trying to find the simplest way to say three little words and failing completely...again.
It hadn’t seemed so complicated before. Not all those years ago, when she’d graduated and he’d wanted to tell her before he left on a work trip to Texas, or a few years after that when she'd had her first promotion and he'd wanted to celebrate with her but his flight to Cost Rica left at ten. Not even a year ago ago when she won her first publishing contract and he’d been halfway to…
To where? He couldn’t even remember. The destinations had started to blur ages ago, adventures and adrenaline replaced by sponsorship deals and look-a-likey hotel chains. Trips that came with jam packed itineraries, influencer ‘gatherings’ (he’d grown to hate that word) and harsh submission dates that had stripped the whole point of his travel away and left him feeling much as if he was stuck in the corporate world of his eldest brother despite all his efforts to escape. An irony that wasn’t at all lost on him- if he could have brought himself to admit it to Anthony he might be able to have a similar life at home, near her, but…Anthony. It just wasn’t that easy. He had pride, for goodness sake! Dignity.
Ironically, if there was one thing he really needed right now it was a holiday, and if he could no longer be the anonymous traveller holed up in some small backpacker hostel down a back alley in wherever the next flight landed, then the only other place he wanted to be was home.
Except that wasn’t quite true, as he acknowledged with his head in his hands and a deep sigh. The only place he wanted to be was with Pen, the geography of the rest of it didn’t really matter at all, hotel room or her flat, luxury king sized mattress or the cramped single in the spare bedroom that doubled as her little home office. It would all suit him just fine, if only he could just find a way to tell her, to ask her.
Tomorrow, for the first time in- well he didn’t like to think but Ben and Sophie had been married for five years and he hadn’t met her- Colin was going home. His contract with his current sponsorship was over, he’d chosen not to sign up for another for the immediate future (his marketing agent was furious, obviously. Colin was a big name in a competitive sector, hard won and time served, starting soon after he finished A Levels, a gap year that turned into a gap later adolescence and then his gap twenties…).
Properly home, as well. Not one of his flying visits, staying with Penelope and therefore Eloise, his presence in the country hidden from the rest of the family. He'd managed to get back to Penelope at least twice a year, even if for just a day or two. He hadn't seen his Mum in almost a decade, had never met his many nephews and nieces, some of his in-laws.
The plan had been rather basic. Work out his notice, write a letter to declare his love, catch a flight back to Heathrow, live happily ever after. A simple scheme he had to admit, but ambitious, nonetheless.
Instead his agency had sent him on multiple quick trips, one and two night stopovers where he had barely time to find his feet and show up at whatever bookings they’d made for him, drop some content and move on. It had left him exhausted, frustrated and certainly not in the best place to construct a missive promising life long adoration and fidelity to the woman he’d called his best friend since the age of 12, when she’d moved into his street, knocked him flying from the swings at the local park and then proceeded to captivate his sister, mother, and entire family, in that order. Even his baby brother Greggy (very much an adult now, always the baby to him) claimed to be in love with her, much to his chagrin and everyone else in his family’s disbelief and or amusement, depending on the mood.
Resigned to his failure and giving up for the night, he capped his pen and set it aside. He contemplated saying sod it and writing an email but he knew how much she loved hand written letters, her books were full of them, epistolic romances. He desperately wanted to give her just a bit of that fantasy in her own life, goodness knew she deserved it.
As soon as he had packed away and fetched himself a mediocre cup of hot chocolate, packet of cookies (goodness how he longed to be able to call them biscuits again) and several bags of crisps from the nearest corner shop he settled himself into his bed and opened his laptop. His finger hovered over her name for a full minute before he gave in and allowed himself the luxury of calling her, heart thumping as he tried to work out what to tell her, if she even answered.
“Hey Colin!” Her side of the call connected and he swallowed harshly, realising he’d managed to find her in bed, hair in cute little plaits, reclined on a pile of incredibly soft looking pillows covered in a slightly madcap and incredibly Penelope clash of patterned pillowcases. She yawned and stretched, he felt the blood start to flow to places that he really, really didn’t want at this exact moment and spoke quickly, feigning what he hoped was nonchalence.
“Oh sorry Pen, did I screw up the time difference? I thought it was…” he looked at the clock in confusion, “not yet 10pm.”
“No, wherever you are,” she giggled but it didn’t feel right to him, a little hollow, “that’s about right here. Ben is picking me up at 8 to drive me to Aubrey, I needed an early night.”
“Wait!” Colin blinked in confusion, “you’re off to Aubrey? I thought your boss said no, refused the holiday request?”
“Yes, well he did,” Penelope shuffled up in the bed. As she did so her duvet slipped, pulling her cami top down slightly so that he could see the curve of pale flesh at the top of her breasts, just a hint of the luxurious softness he knew lay beneath her pyjamas yet enough to trick his brain into picturing the loveliness she so barely hid from his view, starting to imagine how she would feel if he…he shook his head to try and clear the images and focus on what she was saying. Something about Anthony calling her boss and reminding him of employment laws and the terms of her contract, was it?
“And so yes, I’m allowed to use my annual leave for two weeks and I’m allowed to work remotely for the rest, just the odd day back for meetings if really essential. God I love your brothers! Ben and his dedicated taxi service, Anthony and his terrifying lawyer act, Greg and his…”
“Pen, love, please don’t finish that sentence!”
“What? Oh!” her giggles were genuine this time, caught slightly unaware. “that’s horrible, he’s a child.”
“He’s an adult, Penelope. I was engaged when I was his age.”
“And that went so well for you, huh? Gregory and his pranks, Colin! I mean I know Eloise says he has a thing for me,”
“he very much does have a thing for you.” Colin stalled as he realised he only knew that from Eloise’s tales, the comments sections of photos he stalked at 3am when it all got a bit too much.
“Hmm, well, much as that may or may not be the case I am not looking for a toyboy, especially one who still has a stuffed Iggle Piggle on his bed.”
“I have a teddy bear on my bed, you never complained about that.”
“Oh.” She stilled for a moment, clearly confused. “Mr Biggles. I…well… She seemed to stumble for a moment. “Mr Biggles is different, though. He’s not just a teddy bear, he’s…”
“A childhood memento? A pointless soft toy? Dust collector, El called him.”
“The last gift your dad gave you, Colin,” she spoke quietly, serious. “That’s not the same.”
She smiled at him, just a soft gentle thing, and he found himself unable to speak for a full minute, suddenly feeling the enforced separation in an entirely new way. He could speak up now, couldn’t he? Open himself up, take the risk and end this last job with either the most beautiful or most painful moment of his life so far, fly home to a new girlfriend or to rebuild a friendship that he’d inadvertently ruined on a camera call from his hotel room at 4am.
“So you’re going to Aubrey then? I’d better book a train ticket, don’t think Ant will want to shell out for a taxi all the way there.”
“Huh? No I told you, Ben is coming to get me. I…” Colin crawled off the bed and pointed his camera at the rucksack propped by the door, zooming in on the luggage label, destination London. He swore he could feel it as she realised, confused chatter drifting off into silence and then-
“you’re coming home? At last? Tomorrow?”
“Well, my ride leaves here in about forty minutes in fact and then I have a thirteen hour flight, but yes. I had planned to surprise mum at Bridgerton House but I suppose…”
“Why?”
Colin sat down on the bed, “what do you mean, why?”
“Why now? After all this time, and no mention before. Is something wrong, are you ill…are you bringing someone?”
Colin deliberately made his voice gentle, hoping to goodness that her increasingly shaky words were a sign of something positive for him and not just tiredness, or surprise.
“No need to spiral. I just missed you.”
“You missed…oh, all of us of course. Violet, and Ant, and Eloise, well maybe not Eloise,” she let out a high pitched little giggle and it went straight to his cock, he held back an uncomfortable little squeak, no time for that now, not when he had so many hours on a plane ahead of him. “And the little two, they’ve grown so much, well they’re not really little now are they, but…Kate! And Sophie! And Daphne…”
“Pen, sweetheart.”
“Oh god I’m rambling aren’t I?”
“It’s delightful. Of course I missed everyone, they’re my family, eight years! I can't do it any more, even if it means putting up with Anthony's disapproval. But I meant you as well. I miss you Penelope. I wanted to tell you, I…” he swallowed, ready to try and force the words out, only for them to become a groan of deep frustration as he heard the voice of his sister Eloise calling out, shrill and excitable.
“Penelope Featherington! You little liar! Who are you talking to?" He listened as the door was shoved open, bouncing on the bedroom wall. "You said you couldn’t come to the book club meeting tonight because you needed an early night. Is that my brother…” he sighed as the phone was snatched, the screen seeming to fly across air for a moment.
“Hello Eloise. How are you? How is Philip?” His voice was flat, as it usually was with her. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her, in fact in some ways she was one of his favourite siblings, certainly the only one who was still in his life. It was just her habit of always appearing at the worst time.
“Colin? I should have known, disturbing my friend when she wanted an early night. Where are you anyway?”
“Our friend, Eloise.” He exhaled as he spoke the words, remembering all the times he‘d made the same argument, it never got him anywhere. “Thailand, it’s…”
“Single boy paradise, should have known. You should have said, we could have flown Greggy out, about his developmental level. Aristo brat and ageing gap year trustafarian…”
“I pay my own way, El. You know that. Rolling Stone’s top 25 influencers list, 2025…”
“Yeah, number 25.”
“Still! It’s a competitive sector!"
“It’s not a career, Colin.”
“Suit yourself. How is your boyfriend?” He resisted the temptation to smirk. Eloise and Phil had only been together six months, and she’d been mortified to have to admit that she’d fallen for a mere man after all her years of swearing off relationships, permanently disappointed in her own inability to find a woman she fancied, defining her sexuality as 'reluctantly hetero'.
“He’s fine, thank you. In Greece, in fact, but flying back tomorrow.”
“Oh, maybe he and Colin…” Penelope peeked into the corner of the frame and he placed a quick finger over his lips, making brief eye contact. Eloise continued, oblivious to the little interaction taking place in front of her. “Sorry, maybe he and Colin should have a phone call, they might get on, they’ve both travelled a lot.”
“Sorry Penelope but I don’t think documenting dwindling medicinal plant populations in threatened habitats is quite the same as living life in an endless frat party, do you?” Eloise handed the phone back to her friend, “are you going to come out and have a drink with us?”
Penelope shook her head, “I’m going to sleep just as soon as this call ends.”
“Don’t let him keep you up all night. You know what he’s like.” Colin sat in silence until he heard the door slam.
“What am I like, then?”
“I have no idea. Should I ask her?”
“Oh god no, I don’t think I want to hear that one just before I finally fly home. You need to get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon, your time. Pen, I…”
“Yes Colin?”
He swallowed harshly, readied himself then promptly bottled it. “I can’t wait to see you.”
“I’m fairly convinced that I’m already asleep and I’ll wake up tomorrow to find out that this is just a dream and you’re on your way to Dubai, or Alaska…”
“I only get one rucksack Pen, pick a climate.”
“Promise that I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Flight delays excepting, I promise. Sleep tight Pen.”
“Safe flight.”
Penelope placed her phone on her bedside table and glanced at her reflection in the mirror above. Author of almost two books (the second would be out in a few months, the first had been a moderate success, enough to make the publishing house decide that the second was worth a little promotion but not enough money to get her out of her house share), best friend extraordinaire (she must be, mustn’t she? Otherwise why would Colin and Eloise bicker over her so much?), and apparent attractor of baby brothers. Daughter to Portia, famed society page writer. Sister to Pru and Pip, not that she’d seen them for rather a while- it was hard to balance two careers and the rather unpredictable demands of Eloise, visits to the suburbs to see family were rarely on the agenda.
It wasn’t a bad show for her life stage, not really. She'd read about women her age being stuck in their parent’s houses, fighting to find a career path, chasing independence and she knew, she really did, that she’d achieved a lot but still...
Quietly, carefully, she pulled her bedside drawer open and extracted a small box. Navy velvet, pristine for its age yet evidently old and ever so slightly faded, hinge thick, silver, a solitary letter marked on the base. She opened it and pulled out the piece of jewellery inside, slipping it onto her ring finger and holding it under the lamp, her heart catching in her mouth as the light caught the central emerald, bouncing off the two diamonds that flanked it, the polished gold seeming darker, the perfect foil.
She should have moved as she heard the creak of her door being pushed open, hidden it back in its space, safe and away from prying judgemental eyes. Instead she remained still, not speaking as she felt the mattress sink under Eloise’s weight.
“Pen…”
“No, Eloise. I don’t need to hear it. Not again.” She had intended for her voice to be authoritative, boundary setting. Instead she feared she sounded desperate, whiny.
“And I can’t bear to watch you do this to yourself. You’re better than that, too good for him. Come on, lovely girl.” She held her hand out to take the ring, Penelope shook her head fiercely and tucked it away again.
“That’s my drawer, El. You can’t go in there.”
“Let me talk to him, then? You can’t go on like this.”
“Go on like what, El? It was a mistake, nothing more, a harmless accident. I’m a big girl, I can make decisions for myself thank you very much.”
“Clearly not, Penelope. Not that it looks like I can do anything about it. Are you coming out or not?”
“No! I already told you that I wasn’t.”
“Please? Phil and I need to talk to you, somewhat urgently.”
“We have a whole month at Aubrey, El. Can’t you do it there?”
El shook her head, sadly. “No. Or rather I could but…just come out, please?”
She’d known it was coming, hadn’t she? For a while now, really. It shouldn’t be a surprise, and she liked Phil, she really did- he was steady, calmed down some of Eloise’s more impulsive traits, settled her. She thought they were good together, she really did, it was just…
She pulled on her leggings and a t-shirt and joined them, pretending not to know what was coming, pulling out a chair and accepting the glass of wine with a thin and probably obviously fake smile. She picked at a few snacks (for all Eloise liked to bitch about Colin surely she realised that he would at least have better snacks. Crudites, at this time of night? Really? She was hardly going to indulge in hummus when she knew that she would be stuck in the car with Ben, Sophie and their kids in just a fewer hours, was she? She shook her head at the pepper strip Eloise was holding out and grabbed a dry breadstick instead.
“Phillip grew the veg.” Eloise seemed to glow with pride and Penelope bit her lip in the effort to resist asking where her friend was, the woman who had sat at this very table offering her joints and vodka shots not six months ago, the pair calling Violet at 3am, high and merry, begging her to send them a cake to combat the munchies. Violet had done it of course, lemon poppyseed cake in fact, but it had inevitably been followed at 8am by Anthony appearing at their door, and a solid ninety minute long lecture about the evils of drugs and disturbing El’s 60 year old mother at that time of night.
Violet of course had apologised, “sorry girls, he saw the courier leave when he was fixing Charlotte’s bottle. I tried to tell him how glad Edmund and I would have been to have someone we could call for munchies when we were not much younger than you, but…you know Anthony. He means well.”
Now it was ethically sourced, home grown and…Penelope lifted the bottle and checked out the label. “Two Hands Ares Shiraz,” she read carefully. “Tesco two for a tenner bin?”
Phillip sniggered but Eloise completely missed her tone, topping up Penelope's glass as she explained about the Majestic Wines deal that knocked it down to just £70, “ish. Frightfully good value.”
“El,” Phil took her hand and shook his head, “not now love. Rein in the posho act eh? Not fair on…” he nodded at Penelope, as if trying to hide who he was talking about when she was the only other person in the room.
“What? It was a good deal…oh! Sorry Penelope. We were doing a booze run for mum, you know what she’s like at Aubrey. Sure they’ll run the Spar in the village dry over the summer but she likes what she likes. Are you ready for your lift? Sorry we can’t drive you, but you know how it is.”
She did, in fact, and she could hardly complain. For the first time they were going to be adding Phillip to their ranks, and he was bringing Amanda and Oliver, the niece and nephew that he had cared for most weekends since their father, his brother, had passed away. Their mother hadn’t really coped since their births, and even less so since she was widowed. She admired how hard Phillip was working to try and keep the little family together in the wake of real tragedy. It did however mean that Phil’s Leaf would be full of car seats and she wouldn’t be able to travel with them, but she could hardly complain.
“I’m looking forward to seeing the twins again.” Penelope’s face relaxed at the thought of them, a rather boisterous pair of six-year-olds, kind but mischievous. Penelope had always had a way with small children, had considered training as a teacher in fact, and she found those two particularly charming. Eloise on the other hand had not taken to them, at least for a while. It had almost cost her and Phil their relationship but the dust had settled now and she was slowly building a friendship with the pair, it was the hope that the summer trip would help her cement that.
“Oh I’m sure we’ll need a babysitter. I expect you’ll have plenty of free time, everyone else is pretty much paired up now.” Penelope tried not to laugh as she watched Phil close his eyes and count to ten, she reached her hand out and squeezed his,
“it’s OK Phil, I’m used to her.”
“You must be made of bloody Teflon then.”
“I grew up with my mother, remember? Pretty much. El, perhaps you could tell me why you dragged me away from my warm bed tonight?”
“Right. Um yeah so,” Eloise filled both glasses and Penelope waited for the news she had expected for a while. It wasn’t ideal but the flat belonged to Eloise’s family, she could hardly complain about her moving her boyfriend in, could she? “You know that Phil and I have been together for six months now.”
“Yep. God knows how he puts up with you but he seems to like it. Must be some type of masochist.” Usually Phil would nod and offer her a high five, tonight he was strangely quiet.
“Yeah, yeah right. Good one Penelope.” Eloise was nervous, that was unusual. “So, Penelope I know it’s not ideal but we’ve decided it’s time we moved in together. See how we get along, if it works then maybe in a year or so we might get married.”
“Oh! So what, this is an engagement?”
“Something like that yes, well no, it will be that, once we’ve told mum. And of the holiday, maybe. She’ll run us ragged otherwise.”
“That’s amazing news! Congratulations!” She threw hugs at the pair of them, her heart so full that she even felt charitable enough to pick up one of Phil’s slightly manky carrot sticks, “ooh yum, what a treat. Good job you had the bigger room then, should work well as a double.”
“Penelope…” Phil pulled Eloise down onto his lap, a worried expression. “Can you listen for a minute?”
“Yeah, sure.” She watched the pair in growing confusion. “Is everything OK?”
“Well, obviously I am really happy that El has agreed to marry me, but otherwise no, probably not. Not yet. Pen,”
“She’s only Pen to me,” Eloise grumbled.
“And Colin.” Penelope knew that would annoy her but she had a bad feeling that would be the least of it.
“Right. Penelope, I’m really sorry. The twin's mum hasn’t been coping, even worse than usual. I’m taking the twins full time, which means…”
“Right.” Penelope sat back in her chair and sighed, “you need my room, and as the flat is a Bridgerton asset…”
“Oh come on Pen, don’t look like that. It’ll be fine! You have that book deal, don’t you? Plus your wages.”
“You l know I gave mum the money from the last book to clear dad’s debts, the next book might cover a deposit when I finally get the money, months away, but my wages will never cover rent, not in London and living alone.
Eloise nodded, quiet. “Have you thought about moving back with your mum? We could help move you.”
“Mum? Well…El, can I ask, how long are you giving me? You don’t seem able to give me much time to adjust.”
El exhaled, Phillip took over. “We’re really sorry, Penelope. When we get back from Aubrey, really. We could let you sleep on the sofa for a few days if needed, but..”
“Right. Cheers.”
“Look, Pen, I’d understand if you didn’t want to come tomorrow. It might be a bit awkward, for the best? Give you some time to pack.”
“You’re hoping I’ll use the holiday your brother fought for to stay here, pack and slip out quietly? What does your mum think?”
“We haven’t told her yet.”
“Well I am sorry but no. Unless she uninvites me then I am going.” Penelope stood up, slipping her chair back under the table with a squeak, damn the ugly floor tiles, not her problem any more. “Goodnight Eloise, Phil. I think I’d like some time alone now. The wine sucks by the way, you’d have been better off with a bottle from Asda, same top notes, less pretension.
She knew it wasn’t particularly clever or kind of her, but the snipe made her feel better as she stepped away and into her room, closing the door and wrapping her duvet around her, before the tears came.
An hour later she heard knock at her door and shouted “go away” in a wet, muffled voice. He stuck his head in anyway.
“Eloise is in the shower. Can we talk?”
“Please, Phil. I just need a little space.”
“I get that. Look, I’m really sorry she was so…well, Eloise…about it all, I really am. I tried to speak to her, but I think she’s feeling guilty and acting up because of it.”
“And that makes it OK?”
"The twins will need that room. If there was any other choice.”
She rolled over and met his eyes, registering how sad he looked when he realised she’d been crying. “I know that, of course I know that. I knew she was going to move you in, I just hadn’t expected to lose my own home as a result. You know I wouldn't see Amanda and Oliver suffer, but a few nights to adjust might have been nice.”
“Are you sure about tomorrow?”
“Yes. I can’t tell you why. Can you go now, please?”
“OK. I’m sorry Penelope, I really am.”
"Grateful, yet not in the least bit helpful."