Chapter Text
How dare his Pen smile at another man the same way she used to smile at him? What had made her believe she didn’t belong to him? One moment she was taking his counsel, and the next she was avoiding him like the bloody plague.
Penelope had made it immensely clear upon his return that she had no desire nor necessity for his protection. She couldn't have been more wrong. The Bridgertons were aware of the tenuous position the Featherington’s now held in society. The deed to the ancestral home that Lady Featherington had managed to secure for the first son born to any of her daughters, and Mr. Finch’s marriage to Phillipa were their last remaining links to the ton.
How the Featherington’s were managing as well as they did was a complete mystery. Although, that was beside the point because Penelope had agreed to let him help her. Perhaps, his dear friend, hadn’t realized that she had effectively become his responsibility. His.
From the moment he realized that Penelope no longer smiled at him like he hung the moon, something inside him changed. When he looked at her, he could see that she no longer looked at him. He was aware that she hadn’t always avoided his eye contact or flinched when he reached for her hand.
The first time she flinched at his touch when he came to call on her at her home had made him concerned. His first thought was that someone had done something to her, and he could see that someone had done something to her, and he was going to destroy the man when he discovered his identity. Penelope wasn’t the same, and Colin wanted to blame her scummy cousin, but something told Colin that her cousin couldn’t have the power to break Penelope’s spirit.
“What happened between you and Eloise?” Colin had asked her during his first visit with her in months. “She hasn’t told you?” Penelope asked softly, avoiding his concerned gaze.
“No. So, tell me what happened, Pen.” Colin demanded in a firm tone.
“It was just a disagreement,” she responded.
“About?” Colin pressed.
“The best way to live,” Penelope responded. “Some of us aren’t afforded particular luxuries. I must find a husband. As you pointed out, I have no father, or any brothers, and no husband. Mr. Finch and Phillipa stand to inherit this home. I must make a life for myself, and I don’t believe Eloise can possibly understand where I am coming from.”
“I told you that I would always look out for you,” Colin started.
“That is not necessary, Mr. Bridgerton,” Pen interrupted. Colin found his eyes narrowing on her in response. She had briefly looked up from her spot on the floor off to the side to give him a glare before returning to her spot on the floor to avoid his gaze. “I disagree. If you want to find a husband. I will find you a husband. A suitable husband. Since when do you call me Mr. Bridgerton” Colin questioned irritably.
“It’s not your place” Penelope sneered. Colin thought Penelope was cute when she was so clearly angry. “I’m sorry you think that, Pen. You’re important to me.” Colin replied simply.
“It’s inappropriate for a young lady to address a gentleman so informally, Colin,” Penelope emphasized his name. “Besides, being too close to you will only interfere with our prospects.”
“Our prospects?” Colin questioned.
“The ton is obsessed with appearances and they will get the wrong impression about us if they think you are my escort. I would be aggrieved if your friends were to think we were anything but neighbors.”
“You’re more than my neighbor, Penelope,” Colin glared at her.
“Of course, if you can help me find a husband sooner than later, it would be most ideal,” Penelope admitted softly after a moment.
“I suppose I should ask what kinds of qualities you are looking for in a man?” Colin said after he had sufficiently studied Penelope from her puckered eyebrows and distant gaze to her tense shoulders, all the way down to her simple house flats. She hadn’t been expecting his visit. Penelope looked at him for a moment and then looked away shyly when she saw him catching her gaze. “I don’t know. I’m not expecting a love match-” she started.
“What?” Colin interuppted.
“Love isn’t a requirement.”
“Are you mad?” Colin asked.
“Colin!”
“No, are you seriously telling me you want a marriage of convenience?” Colin demanded.
“Did I not make myself clear before?” Penelope asked snidely.
“I suppose you did,” Colin replied after a moment, feeling one of his eyes twitch as he looked upon her with concern. Colin was disturbed by this particular edict. Penelope was settling for a marriage of convenience. She was regaling herself to a life of unhappiness. Colin could not let that happen. He would not let her settle for anything less than someone who made her smile. Smile like the way she used to smile at him.
So, now they were at the Danbury Ball, and the season had barely begun and Penelope was smiling up at a working man. A physician. Penelope as a physician’s wife? Colin couldn't see it. Physicians and lawyers were below nobility, but not entirely unsuitable for a society wife. A young physician like the man she was dancing with wouldn’t be a fixture of the ton, but he wouldn’t be shunned by them either.
Penelope was falling right into it. Colin could hardly see what was making Penelope smile and laugh in his arms as he spun her around during a country jig. Colin had not introduced them. In fact, Penelope had arrived at the ball without him despite his attempts to escort her alongside the other Featherington’s. She had made it her goal to see that she was not near him thus far that entire evening.
It truly brought his entire future into focus. He was furious. He was furious that the one girl whose attention he desired and was accustomed to having was now purposefully avoiding him. It was as if she was punishing him. She was withholding herself from him, and he would not take the cold shoulder for much longer. He had decided in his heart, less with his head, that Penelope was the only woman he could think about.
All of his attention had been hers since he returned. Hadn’t she noticed? Perhaps he needed to simply sabotage whatever prospects that remained. He was so sure that his glare at any other gentlemen who so much as glanced in Penelope’s direction during their thrice weekly promenade in the park had made his stance perfectly clear. Penelope was his.
Penelope just didn’t know it. Evidently. Neither did the Physician.
Penelope and the Physician’s dancing came to a halt, and he took her by the hand to take her off the dance floor, and that is when Colin intercepted. “Pen,” Colin called to her as he reached her and the tall, dark doctor across the room. “I apologize, I haven’t had the honor to make your acquaintance,” Colin said, putting his hand forward.
“Dr. Kingsley,” the man replied, giving Colin a firm shake that was equally returned by Colin.
“Pleasure, I see you’ve met Miss Featherington,” Colin replied.
“Yes, Penelope and I met a while ago,” Kingsley replied, giving Penelope a wink.
“Oh,” Colin said at a loss for words, before shaking his head out of it, “where?”
“Colin, perhaps we should dance?” Penelope asked kindly.
“Delighted to, excuse us, Dr. Kingsley,” Colin replied, taking Penelope’s hand.
“Do you like him?” Colin demanded once they reached the floor.
“What’s not to like?” Penelope asked.
“A physician's wife?” Colin asked.
“What’s so wrong about being a physician's wife? It can’t be any worse than being a gentleman’s wife,” Penelope teased cruelly.
“A physician is busy. A woman has needs that only a gentleman can meet.” Penelope bit her tongue to avoid outright laughing in his face. “Are you laughing at me?” Colin asked in his most devilish tone when he noticed her lips quirk up. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Mr. Bridgerton,” Penelope replied.
“You’re not gonna marry him,” Colin said as they moved to the music, and each touch from him felt a soft caress. “Perhaps I will,” Penelope replied breathlessly. He was touching in a wholly unique way. Softer, gentler, almost teasing.
“No,” Colin whispered softly, yet firmly.
“You don’t get to decide, Colin,” Penelope said in a wistful voice trying to hide her growing exasperation. Colin felt his grip on Penelope become tighter. He wasn’t hurting her, but Penelope could feel the change in his demeanor. “Colin?” Penelope asked.
“You don’t-” Colin gritted out before he stopped himself. “You are saying this to purposefully upset me.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Penelope whispered in a small voice that barely contained her concern for Colin. “I think you know exactly what you are doing to me.” Colin replied dangerously.
“Don’t be silly,” Penelope responded.
“Don’t be coy,” Colin hissed seductively in her ear.
“You don’t get to be mad at me, Mr. Bridgerton. I have no clue as to what you are insinuating,” Penelope whispered firmly, looking anywhere but at him. “I don’t believe you, Miss Featherington,” Colin teased as he spun her around.
Penelope was getting lost in his eyes of all things. He wasn’t making any sense! He had made it explicitly clear to his closest friends last season that he would never date her in their wildest of dreams. Of course, he didn’t know that she knew he had said that, but that didn’t change the fact that had said it. Then he stormed back into her life after being away for months, and practically forced her to accept his help in the courtship department. Penelope couldn’t decide if she felt more angry or devastated. He was confusing her. He was always going and breaking her heart. “Please Colin,” she whispered, feeling unshed tears grow in her eyes.
“What is it?” Colin softened as the dance came to the end.
“I-I truly don’t know what you mean,” Penelope confessed.
Colin could see she was confused, and hurt, and growing more distressed by the moment. “Come with me,” Colin commanded softly.
Penelope felt her breath hitch. “No,” she answered before she realized why she was saying it. Colin’s eyes narrowed on her. “Take a spin around the room with me, Pen” Colin enticed as he moved to take her off the dance floor.
“I have another dance,” Penelope said.
“With who?” Colin asked, looking into her soul. Penelope stared back for a moment before she reached for her dance card. “Mr. Wimbley,” she answered.
“Wimbley?” Colin chuckled. Penelope nodded earnestly. “You’re not joking?” Colin asked when said nothing else.
Gordon Wimbley was old to put it delicate. He was well into his 50s. He was a widow, because his wife had died in childbirth when he was in his 30s. The man had never shown much interest in actually remarrying. He participated in a few events every season, but everyone could see he was tortured over it. He was a devoted military man who was rarely in town for long. “He’s looking for a wife,” Penelope answered, “and I am looking for a husband.”
Colin’s eyes briefly flared with anger. Picturing Penelope and Wimbley made him nauseas.
“You are interested in him?”
“I think it would be vain of me to think he wasn’t a serious prospect,” Penelope replied honestly.
“It wouldn’t be vain, Pen. It would be sensible,” Colin bit out.
“Why are you so angry with me?” Penelope whispered as they walked off the dance floor and off into their own little corner of the ballroom.
“You’re being obtuse, Pen,” Colin said softly.
“Obtuse?” Penelope scoffed. “I am being realistic. I must find a husband and you know that. I’ve been doing everything you suggested, and I am finally meeting prospects. Why are you getting in my way?”
“You know why,” Colin said.
Penelope saw it in his eyes, in his face. She did know why. Didn’t she? Colin had been behaving so differently ever since he returned to the ton. He had called upon her almost every day. They frequently promenaded together around the park. Penelope looked away from him only to realize that there were multiple sets of eyes on them as they spoke in hushed tones next to each other.
They were being noticed. She was being noticed. It was not something Penelope was comfortable with. Bridgertons were bigger than life, and where one walked, most followed. There were throngs of women that were vying for Colin’s attention, and here he was standing in front of her, giving her all of his.
Penelope had only ever wanted Colin to be hers, but she had given up on that dream. His words had hurt her. They had broken her.
If Colin wanted to be with her, then he was going to have to be the one to admit it, not her. Penelope steeled herself, and cleared her throat. “No, I haven’t the slightest clue, Mr. Bridgerton. If you will excuse me, I must find Mr. Wimbley,” and with that Penelope walked away.
Colin found himself opening his mouth, and yet no words came out because she was no longer standing in front of him. In fact, by the time he had closed his mouth he realized that several couples were staring at him being stranded in the corner of the ballroom by Penelope Featherington.
The next day Colin was going to call upon her and make his intentions very clear. Explicit. She was his. She had always been his, albeit without him knowing it for many, many years. It was unfortunate, but he was a boy then and not a man. As a man, he could see things much clearer now, and in his defense Penelope had been a girl. She most definitely was no longer a girl, but a woman. A woman who was playing obtuse, or at the very least, was determined to torture him.