Chapter Text
Penelope was a Bridgerton. A fact made incredibly clear by the Queen. And being a Bridgerton came with responsibility. They stood up for their own. They rallied behind one another. She had always loved this fact about them. They kept their business behind closed doors. And within one hour of joining the family, she was dangerously close to ruining the good name she loved. The name she now shared.
She had wanted desperately to be brave and own up to her part, to share who she was with her new family. She desperately wanted to be set free. But she was running out of moves and she could no longer outrun her pursuers alone. No one out moves the Queen alone.
For years she had made sure to keep her business under control through a complex web of secrets, under the table payments, and skillful exits. She protected it as she had learned to protect herself. It was exhausting and dangerous and everything her new family did not deserve. But she wouldn’t give it up for him or them. Instead she would make it right. She would make it better. She would make him understand.
—
Penelope waited moments longer in the alcove after their argument hoping there were no tear stains on her wedding gown. She gathered any hint of determination left inside her as she prepared to meet Colin outside. They had been so close to finding a way past Whistledown and all that stood between them. Only moments before (it felt like years) she had heard the violins dim and felt her husband stroke her cheek, their impromptu dance finished. She thought that all would be well. But it seemed fate had other plans.
As she exited her now former home, Penelope halted, catching herself on the stair edge as she faced the crowd of people, clearly waiting for whatever gossip they could catch after being forced out by the Queen. Colin plastered a smile and took her hand as he led her down towards their wedding carriage. Penelope tried to smile and wave, trying to hide her growing nausea and racing heart, and felt his stifled grip on her hand while she entered the carriage.
She settled in her seat and tried to calm her breathing. She could not believe that this was how her wedding had ended.
—-
Colin took two long breaths before joining Penelope in the carriage. As much as he wanted, he could not walk home alone. The Bridgertons were the family of love matches, of happily ever afters. It was their wedding day and the bride and groom must leave together to start their new life. Even if the threat of the Queen of England loomed large over that new life.
Until the Queen's arrival, he had been able to set aside his feelings about Penelope and her double life. He had been so irate and frustrated, mad at her reckless behavior. He was unable to stop the intrusive thoughts pulsing through him. Ever since he found her alone in the alley by the printer, they consumed him, even while he performed the duties of a bridegroom before their wedding.
But he could not deny his love for her. He could not deny that she was everything to him. He could not deny how much he wanted her. She was Whistledown but she was his Pen. His Penelope.
And he would not deny themselves their wedding day. When he had locked eyes with Penelope, both standing guard at either end of the aisle, he was sure, as clear to him as the beat of his heart. Her hand had slipped into his, he felt her pulse, the moment was real, solid, and he was confident that there was a way forward. And when Colin made his vow to her, he meant it with every inch of his soul. The way her eyes met his, as if she could not take another step without him, made him want to take that step too.
He took that step. He took her hand. He held her in the daylight in front of their world. He gave her his name. He buried the thoughts that clouded the edges of his mind. The ones that told him to be wary. The dark grey whispers that said the moment was too good to be true.
But intrusive thoughts are like unwelcome guests. They arrive when they aren’t wanted, they make themselves known, they stay longer than they should. They rattle you just because they can.
Just like the Queen of England intruding at a wedding breakfast.
—-
When the carriage rolled away from the last remaining well wisher, Penelope’s control faltered and she could not hold back her tears or the crushing despair. She stared at her new husband through soaked eyelashes as he sat across from her on the way to their home. Not sitting next to her, she noted, as he had before. He sat doing everything he could to not meet her eyes, his shoulders fighting against the seams of his jacket, but he couldn’t not notice her. He handed her his handkerchief and stared out the window. They were on their way to start their honeymoon for all their family and the Ton knew.
Penelope pulled at the neckline of her bodice grasping for room. She scraped her bracelets across the backside of her wrists. She wanted to feel any sensation other than the itchiness that crawled across her skin. She felt as if she could rip her gown off at any moment. The dress made of the finest pink silk and satin felt like a burlap sack against her skin. He would not look at her. Maybe he really did not want her anymore.
He had said they would be apart for the evening, their wedding night, but he could not avoid this afternoon, this evening. They would be expected to be together and she was not going to ruin the illusion of perfect happiness in front of her new staff.
She took a deep breath and stilled her fingers. She planted her palms on the bench. She took another breath, and another. She looked up at him and found her nerve.
“I forgave you.” She said, breaking the silence, a note of steel in her voice.
“What?” He replied, barely shifting his eyes to her.
“Colin, look at me.” Reluctantly he turned towards his wife, pulling at the hems of his sleeves, and she saw the fear and nervousness he was trying desperately to contain.
“I forgave you when you hurt me.”
“This is different.” He replied softly.
“It isn’t. I forgave you when you humiliated me, publicly I might add.”
He sat up straighter, staring her dead on.
“You lied to me.”
He was hurt but she was as well. He clearly thought the argument in the hall had been the end of it. They were not going to start their marriage off in separate corners if she had anything to say about it. Penelope stared at him, not backing down. She would climb the walls he erected one by one if she needed.
“I lied to you, I did. I know I did. I have said things I wish I could take back.” She said, her voice cracking. “And you have too. I was so in love with you and you laughed at me with those men.”
Colin shifted, running his fingers through his hair. “That is unfair.”
“Maybe it is unfair, but it is the truth.” She became equally defiant, her knuckles white as she gripped harder. “You apologized and I forgave you. Because you are my friend. Because I love you.”
He sighed in resignation. “Pen, I do not want a marriage of battles and tallies of right and wrongs. Can we not let this be?”
She moved over to sit next to him, taking his hand in hers. He stared down at the joint palms and waited for eternity until she felt him relax into her side.
“Colin, I do not want a battle, I want our future, so I will not let this be.”
“I do not know how we can move forward,” he said quietly.
She raised her other hand to his cheek and looked him in his eyes. “I vow to you Colin that I will not lie to you again. I promise you that.” She stroked his cheek with her thumb and added, “Even if it is upsetting. Even if the truth hurts you.”
He stroked her hand with his thumb and pulled her close and nestled her cheek to his chest. He had not given her forgiveness just yet, but maybe one wall had crumbled.
——-
The carriage came to a halt in front of their home. They could do this. She gathered herself, took a deep breath and reached for the hand he held out to her. He carefully guided her skirts behind her and walked her across the threshold. Penelope greeted the staff and felt the odd sensation of being called ‘Mrs. Bridgerton' in her own home.
Colin remained quiet as the minutes ticked by and he excused the staff at the earliest moment possible. Without a word he guided Penelope up the stairs into their bedchamber, excused her waiting maid, and left her to wait in the center of the room, the warmth of his hand fading. Her body ached to touch him, to comfort him, to scream at him.
“Colin, I need Rae to assist me.”
Colin remained quiet and walked to his wardrobe, removing his coat and cravat, the tiredness of the week finally revealing itself as he removed the layers of his morning dress. The tension seemed to drip from his limbs with each movement.
Penelope sighed and made her way to her vanity, sitting on the embroidered seat and slipped off her shoes. She dug her toes into the plush blue carpet. Her whole world had shifted from green to blue. She took in all the personal touches that had accumulated over the last few weeks as Colin readied their home for her. He had placed a small bookshelf near their bed and had selected some volumes for her. He had prepared walls for her to hang her preferred artworks.
She ran her fingers along the tabletop, noting the intricate pearl inlay that wrapped the edges. Had he selected this just for her? All her things were laid out perfectly for her with what appeared to be a new set of hand mirrors and combs. She grazed the filigree on the silver handles with her fingertips, still wearing her gloves from their service.
“Do you like them?” Colin stood behind her barefoot in his shirt and trousers, his hair more messed than it had been ten minutes prior. Clearly he was as frustrated as she was, but it seemed for the moment, he was willing to try.
Penelope met his eyes in the mirror and nodded. She looked back down and began removing her lace gloves, one finger at a time, before placing them gently on the table. Slowly she removed her earrings and hair pins, sighing as the pressure released as she rubbed her fingertips into her scalp. She swept her hair over her shoulder and leaned forward, gesturing to her necklace. Colin cleared his throat and carefully opened the clasp of her diamond necklace, placed it on the velvet lined tray, and placed his hand on her shoulder. The tension in her shoulders started to ease. As much as they had to talk about and contend with, they still had this.
“I thought you did not want me.” Penelope said, looking over her shoulder.
He traced the tips of his fingers down her arm at a maddeningly slow pace, causing her breath to hitch.
“I always want you.”
Penelope turned back to the mirror and selected a wide comb. Colin took the comb from her hand before she could begin and slowly combed out her hair, thinking how she was the first person he had ever shared such intimacy.
He continued as he raked the comb in long strokes. “I should not have said I would not come to you. I will always come to you.”
He set the comb on the table, and stroked his fingers through her softened hair. She caught his eyes in the mirror, full of anguish. There would be many hard days ahead to repair the hurt between them, but they would fight for each other.
Colin stroked along her neck, kneading the knots as he made his way to the top button of her gown and waited for approval. Penelope nodded and leaned forward, her body aching to release its constraint. He unhooked each satin covered button, watching the pink fabric slide along her body to reveal her intricately woven corset. A corset chosen just for him. He began unlacing her, his pulse rising. The weight of the moment was not lost on him. He was not only undressing Penelope, but his wife.
The early afternoon light drifted across the room, cleansing the space of the remaining tension between them. At least for the afternoon, they would pretend there was nothing else outside the doors of their bedchamber. It would all have to wait.
Colin held out his hand for Penelope as she stepped out of her garments and he led her over to the side of their bed. She climbed in and warmed herself under the covers as Colin removed the last pieces of his clothing. He climbed beneath the bedspread and turned on his side, a canyon between them. She looked at him straight on, daring him to take the last step. He reached across and pulled her to him, kissing her with everything he could not say.
—
The fire was low, only a few candles remained as Penelope knelt on the carpet next to Colin asleep in their bed. She brushed his hair away from his face, so in love with the fact she was allowed to do that.
“Colin, wake up.” She ruffled his shoulder a bit but he did not budge. It seemed her new husband was a heavy sleeper. “Colin, darling, wake up.” Slowly he opened one eye.
“Pen? What’s wrong?” He startled and shifted to his elbow. His voice was scratchy and his eyes itched from the late hour. “Why are you wearing that?” To his utter bafflement she was wearing her dark blue cloak, her Whistledown cloak, over her nightgown, her walking boots already laced up tight. He reached out and pulled on a bright red curl that had escaped her hair tightly plaited down her back.
“Come on, I need to show you something important. Do you trust me?”