Penelope's latest novel was a success. She had written Colin often to get feedback and realistic advice on a gunshot victim. He was off somewhere new, maybe Greece?
Colin and Penelope wrote back and forth for the entirety of the off-season. Colin wasn't perfect, but as she got to know him in the course of their letters, she knew he was a good man.
The rush Colin felt from killing the first old man lasted a week. He was a man obsessed. It didn't take him long to realize that he'd need to replicate it. While each time he picked up the pistol Colin felt that same rush, he didn't feel compelled to use it again.
There was something else calling his name. Thinking back to Penelope's question, he fingered the knife he'd picked up in London. It was ornate and jewel-encrusted. The blade had a wicked curve and serrated end. He was tempted. God, was he tempted. But, Colin wasn't sure if the serrated knife would provide the same ease of death as the pistol.
Taking his time during the societal season, Colin purchased a simple kitchen knife. It was meant to cut through meat, so it should be ideal for people. He would try it out during his upcoming travels, and then he would have a variety of information to provide a certain someone . . .
Now in Greece, Colin would need to take care. Realizing early on that he'd be picking two targets, Colin couldn't afford to be caught before both victims were handled.
In the end, Colin left the Grecian shores with five victims in his wake. Two for each knife and one to see how many times he could stab someone before he tired. (Colin left one victim with more than fifty wounds; he lost count after that. Though, he had to switch off his hands).
As a result, Colin knew he would need to pack on more muscle. While he would occasionally join Anthony in boxing alongside his friend, Simon, Colin had never taken it seriously. But maybe it was time to pack on some additional upper-body strength . . .
With Penelope's first novel, she had practical experience and a pre-written plotline. Everything she wrote about had happened (with a few changes and switches to avoid any direct suspicion). For the second novel, Colin had helped her immensely.
She still felt compelled to pick up the quill again. She couldn't stop; it was like she was addicted to writing. Mapping out the plot to her third story, Penelope hoped that Colin had learned more about stabbing. Though she didn't want to think too hard about where his knowledge came from.
When the next season started, Penelope started to use Colin as a sounding board for her next story. Initially, Penelope tried to keep their conversations as thought experiments. They'd been exchanging information about shooting people in their letters for months at this point. Penelope had no idea what reason Colin thought she needed the knowledge, but she hoped he didn't guess her alter ego.
At a ball closer to the end of the season, Penelope circled back to the two plot points she was debating while dancing with Colin.
"Do you think it would be realistic for an alleged killer to stab someone twenty times?" Penelope asked.
"Yeah, that should be fine just have him switch hands about halfway," Colin replied without missing a step in their current dance.
"Does it matter if he's left-handed or right-handed?" Penelope asked.
"No." Colin's voice was clipped. He was starting to dislike the idea of Penelope working with a man who was left-handed, right-handed, or ambidextrous, truly any man that wasn't him would be a problem. In their previous discussions, it had been generic knowledge. This was the first time, Penelope referenced another man committing the act.
The song was near its end. They had already danced two dances together. They wouldn't be allowed a third unless they were courting. But Colin showed no signs of letting her go. His face almost seemed flushed in anger.
"Penelope," Colin paused. "If you need someone taken care of, I would hope that you weren't planning to work with someone who didn't have all these answers. I'm quite qualified if you need support."
Penelope's eyes widened and she looked around. People were staring - but was that because Colin was leading her into another dance or because they heard him? "Colin!" Penelope kept her voice low, but she was forceful. "You can't just casually offer to murder someone at a ball."
"Why not? We've been discussing the logistics for weeks at this point. I'm almost offended that you haven't asked me." He said. His eyes were staring at her intently. While his tone was light, his tight and clenched jaw betrayed his anger.
"There's no one that I need taken care of, and frankly I wasn't looking for confirmation that you could handle it. I'd hoped to remain blissfully unaware for longer than this." She said.
His eyes narrowed on her. "You're still hiding something from me."
"Of course I am! We're friends, but you aren't courting me. We aren't engaged or married. There are so many secrets that I have from you. I expect you have a great many secrets from me as well."
"That's different," Colin replied.
It was Penelope's turn to stare him down. "We need to separate after this dance. You've already danced with me three times. At this point, our mothers might march us down the aisle themselves."
"Don't change the subject, Pen."
"Technically, I'm not. I just mentioned that we have secrets because we aren't engaged. But, if you want to discuss secrets, let's discuss where your knowledge comes from." Her eyes narrowed at him. "Who have you 'taken care of' in the past? Maybe you have a close relationship with the police in … where were you most recently? Greece."
"You're playing a dangerous game, Penelope." Colin tightened his grip on her arms. It was painful. Penelope wasn't willing to just take that. She purposely missed the next step in the dance and slammed her heel into his foot, forcefully.
Colin let out a grunt of pain. "Ease up on your grip, or I might miss more steps," Penelope threatened.
Colin loosened his grip. The song was winding down. Penelope took advantage of his loosened grip to step out of his arms as soon as the music ended. She swirled away and moved quickly through the rest of the floor until she was next to her mother and … Lady Danbury. Colin's eyes never left Penelope's form.
How did she move so quickly? Fighting not to curse, Colin followed her.
"Mr. Bridgerton," Lady Featherington greeted him.
"Lady Featherington, Lady Danbury, Miss Featherington." Colin nodded to each of the women. This couldn't be any worse. Oh no, he spotted his mother winding her way toward them as well.
"I couldn't help but notice you danced three times with my Penelope. Do you have something you'd like to ask me, Mr. Bridgerton?" Lady Featherington asked.
"I do. Lady Featherington, I seek your approval to begin courting your daughter, Miss Penelope." Colin was resigned as he felt his mother place a hand on his shoulder.
"Colin! You're courting Penelope?" His mother asked.
"Well, that depends on Portia's decision," Lady Danbury butt in. She stomped her cane on the floor for emphasis.
"Of course, I'd be delighted to accept. Penelope, do you have any concerns?" Lady Featherington turned to her silent daughter.
Penelope's eyes were burning into his. But when directly asked, she simply shook her head.
"Wonderful!" His mother exclaimed. "Portia, we must get the families together for a promenade tomorrow to give Colin and Penelope time to talk."
His mother led Lady Featherington away from the group. Colin took the opportunity to get closer to Penelope.
"That was very well done of you," Lady Danbury said. She had a light glare on Colin. Her sharp eyes didn't miss that Penelope had left him on the dance floor rather quickly. "Penelope, please know there are always options for women who decide to end courtships. If you need an excuse at any time, please don't hesitate to write me. I'd be glad to help you out of anything you may find yourself in."
With that, Lady Danbury wandered off.
Colin let out a sigh of relief.
"Oh, so, murder no problem. Three society ladies though, that's what it takes to shake the charming Mr. Bridgerton." Penelope's voice was teasing but there was a slight edge.
"Yes, though I do believe Lady Danbury just threatened to murder me herself to get you out of our courtship," Colin said. While they'd been dancing around his knowledge for weeks now. This was a direct confirmation.
"Courting me won't make things easier for you," Penelope warned him.
"But it will give me more time to discover your secrets." He said with a smile.
Penelope just prayed she would make it to the end of the season - one more week. It was unlikely that he'd be able to convince her mother, let alone his mother, that a week was enough time for a true courting.
Penelope was glad that the season ended before Colin could corner her into revealing something she wasn't ready to yet.
But … he had admitted to his practical knowledge. Plus, his cluelessness had led to him offering to handle someone for her. That was oddly flattering.
If Penelope was a normal person, she probably wouldn't be flattered by a murder offering. But, she was more familiar with death than others in their generation - Colin notwithstanding. She should probably fear for the general populace. However, Penelope trusted Colin. He wasn't the type to kill just anyone.
He had taken a leap and revealed more than expected to her. Penelope knew more than enough to make traveling freely for Colin difficult. Not that she would want to talk to the police and point them in any specific directions, her threat on the dance floor had been completely empty.
Maybe she could throw him a bone? Reflecting on how her lawyer discovered her writing, Penelope took a chance. Besides, he wasn't serious about courting her. She's sure once the next season starts he'll dissolve their courtship. He'll have the inside scoop on her secrets and not need to pretend to court her anymore. She mailed the near-final manuscript to Colin in London.
Colin was effusive in his response to her newest manuscript. It was an advance copy and set to publish in a few months before the season started again and the ton returned to Mayfair.
After he had devoured the manuscript, he asked her a simple question. "What's next?"
Penelope thought long and hard before she shared her request. Even though she knew she was likely condemning someone, she couldn't stop herself from sending back two words.
"Framed Suicide."