Her Constant Admirer
Pollination
Summary:
Instead of dismissing Penelope with a thoughtless remark, imagine if Colin had responded with: "While I am not courting Miss Penelope Featherington, she remains my most cherished friend, a lady whose wit and warmth surpass all others. To court her would indeed be an honor beyond measure, though I fear I am unworthy of such a distinction. An untitled man, still searching for his place, could hardly hope to match a woman of her grace and brilliance.
Or picture an alternate universe where Colin, unaware of his growing feelings, has long seen Penelope as a constant in his life. Upon his return from travels, he is taken aback when Lady Featherington expresses her gratitude, for it is his regard that has rendered Penelope the most sought-after woman among eligible bachelors and even have the possibility to be named this season's diamond in her third year out.
Notes:
Additional notes: This is inspired by season 3 but there will be changes
- Eloise discovers LW but is not angry with Pen (I cant separate my Peneloise, I'll cry)
(See the end of the work for more notes.)
Chapter 1: His Return
Chapter Text
Upon Colin's return from his travels during the off-season, the first sight that greeted him was his family, gathered before their home, preparing to depart. Today marked a most important occasion—the debut of his sister, Francesca, into society. Embracing his family, Colin smiled warmly.
"My apologies, dear family," he began, "The ship encountered some delay, but I am most glad to have arrived in time."
"I feared you would miss my presentation, brother," Francesca teased with a slight smile.
"I would not have missed it for the world. I would have run all the way from the docks if necessary," Colin replied with a wink.
Eloise grinned, "I'm pleased you're back! Pen and I have many stories to recount from the off-season. You won't be disappointed!"
"I look forward to hearing all your tales, Eloise," Colin said, his gaze drifting toward the house across the way. There, he spotted Penelope, walking with a delicate flower in hand. Alas, as the family was prepared to leave, all he could manage was a wave, which she returned with a smile, her face alight with gentle grace. Eloise waved too, with her usual enthusiasm.
Once settled in the carriage, Colin began catching up with his brothers. They spoke of Anthony's married life, and soon, the conversation turned to Colin's travels.
"You look rather sturdy, Colin. Tell me, is there a particular reason for your newfound radiance?" Anthony teased. "Perhaps you're planning to take a wife this season?"
"Or have the exotic beauties from your travels enchanted you?" Benedict added with a knowing smirk.
Colin chuckled at his brothers' remarks. "Nay, I have no such intentions this season, nor was I bewitched by any foreign woman. I greatly enjoyed my travels, but avoided such entanglements. In truth, it was Penelope's letters, along with those from the family, that entertained me most."
"Letters? You're still corresponding with Miss Featherington?" Anthony's brow furrowed. "I thought we had discussed this, Colin. It is quite improper for an unmarried gentleman and lady to exchange letters."
"I am well aware, brother, but Penelope and I are old friends. Our correspondence is nothing but proper, I assure you."
"Even so," Anthony warned, "it may be the last time you have such liberty. She may well be a married woman before the season ends."
Colin's expression shifted, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. "Married? Is she to take a husband this season?"
"Indeed," Benedict replied. "Did she not mention in her letters how, after their family's ball last season—and following your departure—several gentlemen have expressed an interest in courting her? Some even sent flowers during the off-season."
Colin frowned slightly, pondering this new information. "Could it be because of her new gowns? I noticed her style had changed since last I saw her. Surely, they are not simply vying for her attention on account of her appearance?"
Benedict shook his head. "Her dresses may be a part of it, but there's more to it than that. Eloise mentioned something curious—Penelope's rise in attention, it seems, might have something to do with you."
"Me?" Colin echoed, his confusion deepening. "What could I possibly have done?"
Before Benedict could respond, the carriage came to a halt, signaling their arrival. Colin's thoughts swirled with questions. What had I done? And why had Penelope not spoken of this herself?
Chapter 2: His Offer
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Colin hastily descended from the carriage, eager to rejoin his brothers. As he hurried toward the hall for the debutantes' presentation, he unexpectedly collided with none other than Mrs. Featherington herself.
"Mrs. Featherington! Good day to you. I must confess, it's quite surprising to encounter you here," Colin remarked, offering a polite nod.
"And good day to you, Mr. Bridgerton," Portia replied, adjusting her bonnet with a flourish. "Indeed, it is somewhat unexpected for me to attend, as I have no daughters to present this season. But I am here on behalf of a dear friend, whose daughter is about to make her debut."
"Ah, I see. And how is Miss Featherington faring these days?" Colin inquired, attempting to sound casual despite the tightening in his chest.
"Penelope is well, better than ever, in fact," Portia said with a hint of pride. "Now that you ask, I must express my gratitude. You may not realize it, but what you said to that gentleman at our ball last season seems to have worked wonders. Our once-quiet drawing room is now bustling with gentlemen seeking Penelope's attention."
Colin's brow furrowed slightly. "And what exactly did I say that sparked such interest?"
Portia's eyes gleamed. "One of Penelope's suitors mentioned that last season, there were whispers of whether you were courting her. You replied that you were not, but in doing so, you described my Penelope as graceful, witty, and brilliant. It seems your words had quite an effect, Mr. Bridgerton."
"I did say that... because it's the truth," Colin responded earnestly. "I never imagined my words would carry such influence."
"Ah, the Bridgertons always command attention, dear. Now, I must be off; my friend is surely searching for me. But again, thank you. Should Penelope secure a proposal, I believe we shall have you to thank," Portia said with a nod of appreciation.
Colin shook his head, stepping closer. "If she does secure a proposal, it will be because of her merit, not my words. However, before you go, Mrs. Featherington, might I offer my assistance? I understand there is no man in your household to speak with Penelope's suitors. If my words indeed played a part in attracting them, allow me to help ensure their intentions are honorable."
Portia arched a brow, her skepticism evident. "And how, pray, would you assist?"
"I could meet these gentlemen, inquire into their backgrounds, perhaps even sit with them when they call on Penelope. It would give me peace of mind to know their intentions are genuine."
Portia paused, considering his offer, before finally nodding. "Very well, Mr. Bridgerton. I shall send word when the suitors begin visiting again."
They parted ways, and Colin soon found himself beside Eloise, who was watching him with wide eyes.
"Colin, tell me my eyes deceive me. Was that Mrs. Featherington you were just conversing with?" Eloise asked, half-amused.
"You are not mistaken," Colin replied, his tone lighter. "It appears our dear Penelope has been quite busy with suitors during the off-season."
"Our Penelope?" Eloise raised a brow. "Since when did Penelope become 'ours'?"
"I didn't say that," Colin retorted, a bit too quickly. "You must have misheard. Her mother claims it is my fault these suitors are suddenly appearing."
"Ah, because of how affectionately you described her to the ton. Naturally," Eloise teased. "But what were you talking to Mrs. Featherington about, pray tell?"
"I offered my assistance in selecting the best match for Penelope," Colin said matter-of-factly.
Eloise nearly choked. "You did what? And how, pray, do you intend to be of help?"
"I can investigate their backgrounds, perhaps sit in the drawing room when they call, to observe their behavior," Colin explained, as if the plan was entirely reasonable.
"Colin, you are neither her brother nor her father! Penelope is more than capable of choosing a husband herself."
"I never said she wasn't. I'm merely... assisting," Colin defended, his tone firm.
Eloise groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Heavens above, this is going to end in disaster."
"It will not—so long as these suitors keep their hands to themselves and behave as true gentlemen toward Pen," Colin said with a mischievous smirk.
"Lord help us all," Eloise muttered, shaking her head in exasperation.
Notes:
Just had the time update this again, hope you'll like this chapter. Next chapter we will meet a lot of suitors and a chaotic Colin will be seen
Chapter 3: The Suitors
Summary:
Colin met the suitors but no one is deemed worthy of his Penelope.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
It was but three days after the commencement of the season when Colin received a missive from Mrs. Featherington, informing him that two of Penelope's suitors would be calling upon her that very day. Without hesitation, Colin made haste, preparing himself and swiftly proceeding to the Featherington household.
"Colin, you're up unusually early," remarked Violet, his mother, as she observed his hurried preparations. "I had no notion you had plans for the day. Is it something with your brother Benedict?"
"No, Mother," Colin replied, tugging at his gloves. "I am called upon by the Featheringtons to assist in a delicate matter."
"And what is this matter that you cannot share directly?" Violet inquired, her brow arched in curiosity.
"There is no need for concern, Mother," Colin reassured her. "I'm merely offering assistance to Mrs. Featherington and Penelope. I shall return by dinner." He gave a brief nod, turning to depart.
"What type of assistance is required so early?" Violet muttered as he took his leave.
Upon his arrival at the Featherington residence, Varley, the butler, announced his presence. "Mr. Bridgerton has arrived, madam."
"Colin? How wonderful to see you," Penelope greeted him warmly, entering the room. "I must apologize, I've been terribly occupied helping Philippa and her husband these past days."
"That's quite alright, Pen. I'm here now, and that is all that matters," Colin said, offering her a soft smile.
Penelope, ever curious, tilted her head. "Might I ask, what brings you here today? I was not expecting company."
"I've come to assist in a matter most pressing," Colin replied, his tone light though his meaning was far more serious. "I was informed by your mother that your hands are rather full this season, what with the many suitors vying for your hand."
Penelope laughed softly. "Ah, yes, that. Though I daresay it is partly due to your intervention last season. I owe you thanks, Colin. Truly. I know we've been friends for what feels like an eternity, and I realize that the question regarding the possibility of courtship may have made you uncomfortable. Yet you did not mock me for it, and for that, I am grateful."
"Penelope, I would never treat you so lightly," Colin replied, his voice earnest. "In fact, it is you I seek at every gathering. Only in your company do I feel entirely myself. I value our friendship deeply and would always hold you in the highest esteem."
"So, you've come to assist me in selecting a husband?" Penelope inquired, half in jest but with a touch of curiosity.
"Indeed," Colin responded with a teasing glint in his eye. "I have made it known to your mother that I shall observe your suitors today. I will be seated in your drawing room to ensure they are gentlemen of proper character, worthy of you, and, above all, respectful."
"Colin, that is entirely unnecessary," Penelope protested gently. "I am quite capable of handling them myself, and Mama will certainly be present."
"I've no doubt in your capabilities, Pen," Colin replied, his tone softening, "but the gentlemen of the ton are not always as they appear. I must ensure that whoever wins your hand recognizes your brilliance, appreciates your love for learning, and would worship the very ground you walk upon."
Penelope gave a small sigh. "I'm afraid that may be asking too much. I've already resigned myself to marrying for convenience."
"That will never do," Colin said firmly. "You deserve to marry for love, Pen. To be adored, admired, and to feel beautiful in every possible way."
"I would like that more than anything," Penelope admitted quietly, "but I doubt it is possible."
"Pen, I—" Colin began, only to be interrupted by Varley's re-entry.
"Mr. Hankson, here to see Miss Penelope," Varley announced.
"Good day, Miss Featherington," Mr. Hankson greeted with a flourish as he entered. "It is indeed a beautiful day, made even brighter by your presence. I have brought these flowers for you, and I do hope they are to your liking."
Colin barely concealed his scoff, his eyes widening in disbelief at the sight of the bouquet: a curious mixture of yellow carnations, chrysanthemums, and columbines. He bristled. What was Mr. Hankson attempting to communicate? Rejection, slighted love, and foolishness?
"Thank you, Mr. Hankson," Penelope replied politely. "May I introduce my dear friend, Mr. Colin Bridgerton? He will be acting as chaperone for us today."
Colin stepped forward, extending his hand. "Good day, sir. I must say, your choice of flowers is… intriguing. Rejection, slighted love, and foolishness—were these your intended sentiments?"
Mr. Hankson blinked, clearly caught off guard. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Bridgerton?"
"The language of flowers," Colin explained, his tone both cool and pointed. "Did you not know the meaning behind this particular selection?"
"Colin," Penelope interjected, giving him a chastening look, "not everyone is well-versed in such matters. Mr. Hankson, please pay no mind to him."
Mr. Hankson merely nodded, taking a seat in awkward silence.
"Well, they should be, Pen," Colin muttered, his gaze never leaving Mr. Hankson. "It shows a great deal of thoughtfulness, selecting flowers that truly represent one's feelings."
The atmosphere in the drawing room grew tense, the air thick with unspoken words. Colin continued his pointed remarks, scrutinizing the poor man at every turn. By the time Mr. Hankson rose to leave, he was visibly flustered, offering his goodbyes with the utmost formality.
Once he was out of earshot, Penelope turned to Colin, her eyes flashing with frustration. "Colin, you embarrassed him terribly. You must understand, not every suitor will have the foresight to personally select flowers based on their meaning. Sometimes they simply choose what pleases their eye."
"Perhaps," Colin conceded, "but selecting flowers with care shows that they think of you—truly think of you. It may seem small, but it is significant."
Penelope sighed. "What am I to do with you?"
"Nothing at all, Pen," Colin said with a smirk. "Just sit back and allow me to handle the matter."
"You are making this far more difficult than it needs to be," she replied, shaking her head, though a small smile tugged at her lips.
The next suitor to call upon Penelope was a Duke from Ireland, a Mr. Berington, who had come to London for the season. Colin, though less abrasive than before, remained ever watchful. Mr. Berington's offering, a single red rose, was simple—perhaps too common for a man of his station, but passable.
As the conversation between Penelope and the Duke unfolded, Colin leaned in slightly, straining to catch every word, ready to pounce on any fault. It was a struggle to resist, but he was determined to remain civil. That was, until he heard the Duke ask:
"So, what are your interests, Miss Featherington?" Mr. Berington inquired, his tone measured.
Penelope smiled gently. "I enjoy reading immensely, and I often take to writing in my spare time. One day, I hope to experience travel—if permitted, of course."
The mention of travel sparked something within Colin. A smile tugged at his lips as his mind began to wander, imagining the two of them journeying to distant lands. He pictured Penelope's wide-eyed wonder as she gazed upon the seas and landscapes they had written about in their letters. The thought of her joy, her excitement in such moments, made his heart swell. But then, with a jolt, he mentally reprimanded himself. Why was he imagining such travels with Penelope? Surely, she was referring to adventures with her future husband.
However, his pleasant daydream was swiftly shattered by the Duke's response.
"I see," Mr. Berington said, pausing briefly before continuing, "I'm not particularly fond of travelling, myself. Should you become my wife, I would expect you to be quite hands-on with our children. As for reading, that may be indulged in moderation, but I would prefer if you focused your efforts on hosting tea parties and balls."
Colin's eyes darkened as he watched Penelope. He saw the way her expression faltered, the way her eyes dimmed ever so slightly. The spark of joy that had flickered there only moments before had been snuffed out. How dare this man—this unworthy man—dare to make his Penelope sad?
"I don't mean to be rude," Colin interjected, his voice firm, yet laced with an undercurrent of fury, "but there is a profound beauty in travelling. And if you believe that your wife should solely adhere to your whims and desires, then I fear you shall find yourself alone for the rest of your days."
The room fell silent. Mr. Berington blinked, visibly taken aback by Colin's sudden outburst. After an awkward pause, the Duke rose abruptly, offered a hurried farewell, and left the Featherington household with little more than a murmur.
Colin, still brimming with indignation, strode to the settee where Penelope sat. Without hesitation, he reached for her hand, his touch gentle but resolute.
"Pen, pay no mind to him. That man is not worthy of you," Colin said softly, though his voice still carried the weight of his earlier anger. "I won't allow him to call on you again. Who is he to dictate what you may or may not do? What you should or shouldn't like? His title means nothing if he cannot see the value in your happiness."
He continued, his voice growing more passionate, "Simon is a Duke, but he allows Daphne the freedom to pursue her own desires. Anthony may be a Viscount, but have you not seen how Kate can decide for herself, how their marriage is one of equals? You deserve no less, Penelope. You can be a wife, a mother, and still have your own dreams, your own plans."
Penelope looked at him, her eyes shimmering with a mixture of relief and emotion. "Thank you, Colin," she said softly. "It means so much to hear that from you. I've been so worried that, if I were to marry, I would have to leave behind all that I love—to simply be a dutiful wife and nothing more."
"You are your own person, Penelope," Colin replied, squeezing her hand gently. "Never forget that. The man who wins your hand should cherish you for all that you are, not for what he wishes to mold you into.
After the last suitor departed, Colin found himself lingering in the Featherington drawing room longer than he had anticipated. He realized how much he had missed these moments with Penelope, the ease of their closeness, the warmth of her company.
"I believe I may have overstayed my welcome," Colin remarked with a soft chuckle, rising from his seat. "I promised Mother I would be home for dinner. But next time, I insist you join us. It's been far too long since you dined with the family."
Penelope smiled, a faint sadness flickering in her eyes. "I will, Colin. Thank you for today, for everything. You've always been here for me, and I—well, I shall miss this once I am married."
Colin's brow furrowed at her words. "Miss this? Why would you miss our friendship simply because you're married? We can still remain friends, write letters, and visit, just as we always have."
Penelope's smile faded slightly, and she looked down at her hands. "Colin, you know as well as I do that such a thing would be improper. No husband would take kindly to his wife maintaining a close friendship with an unmarried gentleman. Society would frown upon it."
Colin shook his head, a note of defiance in his voice. "Since when have we ever cared for society's rules? If anything, this only reinforces why we must choose your husband with care. He should be confident enough to allow you the freedom to keep friendships outside of marriage."
"Colin, I—" Penelope started, her voice faltering. She paused for a moment, then offered a faint smile, shifting the subject. "Once again, thank you for today. I have no callers scheduled for tomorrow, so you can rest or spend time with your family."
"You have no plans for the day?" Colin asked, his interest piqued.
"None," Penelope replied. "I'll likely remain here. The day after, however, we are to attend Lady Danbury's ball. Will you be there?"
Colin nodded, a glint of something unspoken in his eyes. "I shall be. But, might I call upon you tomorrow? We could promenade together. I should like to spend time with my dear friend while I still can."
Penelope looked at him, her expression softening. "That's not necessary, Colin."
"Please," he urged, his voice almost pleading.
She hesitated, then relented with a small sigh. "Very well."
With a satisfied smile, Colin rose and offered his farewell to Penelope and her family. As he departed the Featherington household, he couldn't shake the sense that time with her was growing ever more precious, each moment feeling more fleeting than the last.
Notes:
This is a longer chapter than the two because updates might be next week again after this. Thank you for reading this and leaving comments, I enjoy reading it.
Chapter 4: Wonders of the heart
Summary:
What if Bridgerton's give their piece of mind?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Upon entering the Bridgerton household, Colin made his way directly to his bedchamber, pausing only to instruct a footman to call him when dinner was ready. Once inside, he closed the door with a frustrated sigh, leaning against it momentarily before pushing off toward his desk. The day had been more taxing than he anticipated. How could he have allowed Penelope to endure such deplorable suitors? He mentally resolved that he would do more to protect her, especially at the upcoming ball. He could already picture the numerous gentlemen eager to dance with her, their hands wandering where they shouldn't. He'd have to keep a close eye on them—Penelope deserved far better.
After a brief bath, Colin settled at his desk, taking out his journal. As he flipped through his past entries, he noticed a pattern—mentions of Penelope far more frequent than he'd realized. One entry described her hair as "the color of the sunset," another compared the shade of her eyes to "the deep, calming hues of the sea." A small smile tugged at his lips. Surely, it was simply the admiration of a friend. They were best friends, after all—was it not natural to feel protective?
By the time he descended to the dining room, his entire family was already seated. He took his place next to his mother, greeting her and the others with a nod.
"Colin, was that you I saw leaving the Featheringtons earlier?" Kate asked with a curious smile.
"I was, indeed. Just assisting the family with a few matters," Colin replied, hoping to steer the conversation away from any teasing.
"He's helping Penelope choose her future husband," Eloise interjected with a mischievous grin.
"Eloise!" Colin exclaimed, shooting his sister a reproachful look.
Their mother, Violet, raised an eyebrow. "You're helping Penelope choose a husband, Colin?"
Colin let out a resigned sigh, realizing there was no point in hiding the truth now. "Yes, Mother. I'm assisting her in selecting a suitor because, frankly, I want to ensure she ends up with someone worthy of her."
Eloise rolled her eyes playfully. "Our dear brother here keeps referring to Penelope as our Penelope."
"I did not!" Colin retorted, though his voice lacked conviction. "You misheard me."
"I know what I heard," Eloise replied smugly. She turned to their mother. "I already told him that Penelope is perfectly capable of handling her suitors herself, but Colin doesn't listen."
"And I'm glad I didn't," Colin shot back. "You didn't see what I saw. The first suitor brought flowers that symbolized rejection and foolishness. The second, a duke no less, expected Penelope to abandon everything she loves and devote herself solely to being a wife and mother."
Anthony, who had been quietly observing the exchange, finally spoke. "Colin, you're neither her father nor her brother. Why are you involving yourself to this extent?"
"I know, Anthony," Colin said, exasperation creeping into his tone. "But she doesn't have a man in her household to look out for her. I'm simply doing what I can as her friend." He hesitated, then added, "Besides, Penelope mentioned that once she marries, we can no longer be friends. That's another reason I'm determined to find a husband who will be secure enough to allow our friendship to continue.
Anthony shook his head. "Colin, that's not how society works. No respectable husband would allow his wife to maintain a friendship with an unmarried man."
Hyacinth, who had been listening intently, piped up. "Why don't you just marry Penelope yourself, Colin? You'd still be her friend, and you'd have no need to worry about propriety."
"Hya—what?" Colin stammered, clearly caught off guard. "That's not—I mean, Penelope doesn't see me as a potential husband."
"But do you see her as a prospect?" Daphne asked quietly, her gaze steady on her brother.
Colin opened his mouth to respond but hesitated. "Penelope is... well, she's lovely. Any man would be fortunate to marry her, of that I'm certain. But my admiration for her is because we're friends."
Simon, seated beside Daphne, leaned in and whispered just loud enough for the table to hear, "An oblivious fool."
Daphne hid a smile behind her hand, while Violet chimed in, her tone light. "Well, dear, I do hope you succeed in your endeavor. But let's hope it doesn't end in disaster."
Benedict grinned, raising his glass. "Anthony, prepare yourself for another scandalous Bridgerton marriage."
Colin chose to ignore the jesting remarks, though inwardly, he found himself questioning whether his family might be right. Perhaps his protectiveness was more than simple friendship, but he quickly brushed the thought aside. His focus, for now, was ensuring Penelope found the happiness she deserved, even if it meant keeping her at arm's length.
After dinner, Colin excused himself early, citing a headache as the reason for his retreat. In truth, he simply wanted to escape the incessant comments from his family, who seemed determined to plant ideas in his head. Colin wasn't blind to their jests about Penelope, but he knew better—Penelope didn't see him that way. He was just the third son, after all. Despite the comfortable inheritance left by his late father, he couldn't help but feel he wasn't enough. He was still searching for his purpose, while Penelope... well, she had hers. He remembered their conversation during Anthony's bungled nuptials—how Penelope had spoken with such conviction, knowing exactly what she wanted. She was charting her course confidently, and he admired that. She deserved more than he could offer.
His thoughts were interrupted by a gentle knock at the door.
"You may come in," Colin called out, turning his attention away from the brooding thoughts that had begun to cloud his mind.
The door creaked open, revealing Francesca, his younger sister. "I hope I'm not disturbing you, Brother, but there's something I'd like to discuss, if that's alright?"
"Of course, Francesca. Please, join me," Colin gestured toward the seat beside him. "So, what's on your mind? Is this about a certain Lord I saw you dancing with?" he teased, attempting to lighten the mood.
Francesca smiled but shook her head. "No, Brother. That's not why I'm here. I came to tell you that I'm proud of the way you're protecting Penelope. But I also wanted to offer my thoughts on how you've been handling things... if you don't mind?"
Colin straightened slightly. "I'm all ears."
"It's wonderful that you're making Penelope realize her worth," Francesca began, her voice soft but firm. "She deserves to know she's worth more than what she believes. But, Brother, I think it's important that you're careful with how you treat her suitors. While it's good to protect her, if you're too forceful in scaring them off, Penelope might misinterpret your intentions. She may think you're pushing them away because you don't want her to be happy, or that you value your friendship more than her future."
Colin blinked, taken aback by his sister's insight. "I hadn't thought of it like that..."
Francesca continued, her gaze steady on him. "We, as women in this society, don't get to have everything we want. Some of us have to hide parts of ourselves, and Penelope will have to navigate that too. If she ever feels that you're holding her back—out of friendship, even—she might start to resent it."
"Of course, our friendship is important to me," Colin replied thoughtfully, "but her happiness and safety will always come first. Even if she marries and I have to let her go because of society's rules, I just want to know she's happy. That way, I can part with her in peace."
Francesca's expression softened, though she didn't shy away from her next words. "I know you've probably had enough of hearing about this today, but have you truly considered that what you feel for Penelope might be more than just friendship? Or... are you perhaps hiding your true feelings because you don't think you're worthy of her?"
Colin's heart gave an unexpected lurch at her words, though he remained silent.
"Brother, love makes us feel seen—worthy—even when we don't think we are. Haven't you felt that with Penelope? She's never cared about your title, that you're a Bridgerton. She cares for you. You're her Colin. And from what I've observed, you're different with her. You don't hide, you're fully yourself."
Colin's throat tightened, and for a moment, he couldn't find the right words.
Francesca stood, sensing the weight of her words settling in. "Perhaps it's time you evaluated your own feelings. Don't let your doubts cloud what could be more than you realize. Goodnight, Brother." She left the room with a soft smile, closing the door quietly behind her.
Colin remained still, Francesca's words echoing in his mind. You're her Colin... love makes you feel worthy... Could it be? Could there have always been more between him and Penelope, something he'd hidden even from himself?
He sighed and leaned back, staring at the ceiling. For the first time, Colin wasn't so sure of the answer.
Notes:
I was supposed to publish this last weekend but got so busy. Updates after this will be every saturday and sunday. Thank you again for all the love for this fic.
Also, I chose Francesca to have the "talk" with Colin as she's the observant one in the family in my perspective
Chapter 5: Secrets and Truths
Notes:
This is Penelope's POV
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
After the tumultuous events with her suitors, Penelope retired to her bedchamber earlier than usual, the weight of the day pressing upon her. Alone in the quiet of her room, she allowed her thoughts to drift back to that fateful evening at the Featherington ball, when Colin had come to her family's aid, shielding them from the ruinous schemes of her Uncle Jack. And then, there was Eloise—her dearest friend—who had discovered her most closely guarded secret.
Flashback
"You are Whistledown? How could you deceive me so?" Eloise's voice rang with a hurt she did not attempt to conceal. "How could you lie to me, of all people?"
Penelope, standing before her, felt her heart fracture at her friend's words. "Eloise, I had my reasons—reasons I could not share with anyone. To tell you would have put you in harm's way."
Eloise's anger flared. "And that is why you wrote of me? Of my family? To protect us, you say? How could you, Penelope?"
"It was the only way I knew to shield you," Penelope implored, her voice trembling. "To divert the Queen's gaze away from you. I had no choice."
"You did have a choice!" Eloise countered, her voice raw with emotion. "You could have confided in me. We could have faced it together."
"I panicked," Penelope admitted, her composure crumbling. "Every word I penned about you tore at my heart, but I believed it was the only way to protect you."
"And what of Colin?" Eloise pressed, her tone still sharp. "He is your friend, was it truly so difficult to tell him the truth about Marina? That she carried another man's child?"
"I tried," Penelope whispered, tears filling her eyes. "But he believed himself to be in love. I sought to save him from a trap that would have brought him misery. He deserves happiness, Eloise. He deserves to be loved, to have a family—one that sees him for who he is, not for his fortune or his name. Colin deserves everything good in this world."
Eloise's expression softened as a realization dawned upon her. "You love him, don't you? You love Colin."
"No…" Penelope's voice wavered, though she tried to mask her feelings. "He is my friend, just as you are. Your family means the world to me."
Eloise shook her head, her voice gentler now but no less insistent. "Do not lie to me, Penelope. I've had enough of lies. I see it now, in the way you speak of him. You love him. Is that why you sought to end his engagement? Because you could not bear the thought of him with another?"
Penelope's resolve crumbled. "I love him, yes," she confessed, tears streaming down her cheeks. "But that was not why I intervened. I am content with being his friend—because I know he will never see me as anything more. The Bridgertons do not marry Featheringtons. I am the third daughter of a family in ruins, Eloise. I want nothing more than for him to live his life, to find the happiness he deserves. Even if that means watching him marry another—perhaps a diamond of the season."
Her voice broke as she continued. "I can endure a broken heart. I can live with that. But I cannot endure seeing him trapped in a marriage where love is absent, where he is nothing more than a means to an end. As long as he is happy, as long as he is loved—even if it is not by me—that is all I can hope for."
Tears welled in Eloise's eyes as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Penelope. "Oh, Pen, I did not know. I am so sorry. I didn't understand."
"I am sorry too," Penelope whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I thought I was protecting you."
"You were," Eloise replied softly. "Perhaps not in the way I wanted, but I see now that you acted with the best of intentions. I'll be a better friend, Pen. I will listen more."
After Eloise had finished ransacking her room, and they had restored some semblance of order, the two of them found themselves seated side by side, the tension between them now somewhat eased.
"So, will you still be writing next season?" Eloise asked, her tone more curious than accusatory.
"I must, El. It has become my purpose," Penelope replied softly, "and besides, it is the only way I can anonymously support my family. My father left us with a mountain of debt, and my cousin, with his sham of a ruby mine, only added to the disgrace. Thanks to Colin, we uncovered his scheme before it could completely ruin us."
"He did that?" Eloise's eyes widened in surprise.
"He did," Penelope confirmed with a slight smile. "So, yes, I shall need the income from Whistledown to restore my sisters' dowries, and more importantly, to help free us from this financial burden. But I also know that next season I must marry if I am to gain any semblance of freedom."
"If you're planning to marry next season," Eloise began, her gaze sharp with interest, "then does this mean you're finally going to tell Colin of your feelings?"
"No, El. I'll be marrying for convenience," Penelope said, the words heavy on her lips. "I only need someone kind enough not to mistreat me, someone faithful enough to avoid the brothels, someone who will at least respect me."
Eloise frowned, her brow knitting with concern. "But what of love? Don't you wish to marry for love? I know I'm not exactly fond of this, but if you are to marry, shouldn't you at least find happiness in it? You've said yourself that Colin, should he ever marry, deserves love. Why don't you?"
"We are women in this society, El. To marry for love is a luxury that not all of us can afford," Penelope answered quietly, her gaze lowering. "It will be enough for me to marry someone who grants me the freedom I need."
Eloise shook her head, a note of defiance in her voice. "But freedom without love? What kind of freedom is that?"
Penelope offered a small, wistful smile. "One that allows me to live as I please, even if my heart is elsewhere."
A moment of silence stretched between them before Eloise, with her characteristic irreverence, lightened the mood. "Well, if you do marry, are you finally going to rid yourself of these wretched yellow dresses?"
"Oh, absolutely," Penelope said with a laugh, her spirit lifting as Eloise joined in. "I'll burn every last one of them."
The two shared a moment of laughter, the weight of their earlier conversation dissipating for the time being, though the unspoken truths lingered in the air.
End of flashback
As Penelope lay in the stillness of her chamber, her thoughts returned to the suitors who had called on her earlier that day. She knew, deep down, that Colin was right—they were not worthy of her. Yet, she had always imagined that a marriage of convenience might be her fate, harboring the faintest hope that, in time, love might blossom. Her mind wandered back to the first call she'd ever received—after two seasons of being overlooked by every eligible gentleman. It had been Lord Fife, of all people, who had sought her out, just a week after their family's ball and before they retired to the country.
She had been astonished when she learned what Colin had said of her during that encounter. A blush crept across her cheeks even now as she recalled it—his words of praise, of her kindness and intelligence. But with that warmth came the familiar pang of heartache, for no matter how kind his words, Colin still did not see her as anything more than a friend.
Earlier today, when Colin strode into the Featherington drawing room, his expression intent, and declared his wish to help her choose a suitable husband, she had been utterly taken aback. How could she possibly tell him that the only husband she wanted was him? That none of these suitors meant anything to her, because her heart belonged to him alone?
She appreciated his protectiveness, of course. When Colin had spoken to those men, his firm yet charming demeanor had driven them away with ease. But as she sat in her room now, she couldn't help but wonder—would he keep up this act for the next batch of suitors as well? If Colin continued to scare them off, how could she ever hope to marry? A bitter chuckle escaped her lips. Perhaps that was the point.
But then, a more treacherous thought crept in. What if Colin wasn't driving the suitors away because they didn't deserve her, but rather because she was the one who was unsuitable? What if he was simply too kind to offend her with the truth?
She knew Colin—knew him well enough to trust in his goodness, in his heart. Yet, insecurities gnawed at her. What if her inability to hold on to even these suitors meant that her fate was sealed? What if she truly was destined for spinsterhood? The question hung heavy in the air, as did the fear that perhaps no one—least of all Colin—would ever see her as marriageable.
Her mind then drifted toward Whistledown, and she let out a sigh. How was she supposed to report to the ton that Penelope Featherington was suddenly gaining suitors? The absurdity of it all stung more than it amused. Would the scandal sheet mock her, even if it was her own hand writing it? Would the ton see her as some pitiful creature, undeserving of attention?
She closed her eyes, willing the thoughts to silence, but one truth lingered. No matter how many suitors came or went, no matter how many words of praise Colin spoke, none of it would matter. Her heart had long since chosen, and it was Colin Bridgerton who held it firmly in his grasp—even if he never knew.
Notes:
This is also the reason why in the past chapters Eloise is skeptical with Colin helping Pen, because she knows what she feels about Colin.
Hope you like this chapter
Chapter 6: Am I worthy ?
Summary:
The promenade of Colin and Penelope took a turn not expected of anyone, but is this the start of something new for them ?
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The following day, Penelope found herself promenading through Hyde Park on Colin's arm, with Eloise and Benedict serving as their chaperones. Ahead of them, Francesca strolled gracefully with Lord John Kilmartin. Penelope couldn't help but note how well-matched the pair seemed, though her musings were soon interrupted by Colin's voice.
"Pen," he began hesitantly, "yesterday, I received some insights from my family, and I must apologize for the way I behaved toward your suitor. Please understand, it was never my intention to offend. I simply... I wanted to ensure that you'd be in good hands."
"There is no need to apologize, Colin," Penelope replied softly. "In truth, I've thought about your actions, and perhaps… perhaps I am not truly worthy of such suitors. I know you've told me otherwise, but am I really? After all, they only seem to see me now because you've spoken kindly of me."
At these words, Colin stopped abruptly, pulling Penelope gently to a halt as well. Turning to face her, his expression was resolute. "Penelope, you are worthy—more than worthy. Do not ever think of yourself as less. You are witty, kind, loving, and beautiful. If they only notice you now because of my words, that speaks more of their blindness than your merit. Anyone would be fortunate beyond measure to call you their wife. It would be the greatest privilege of their life."
Penelope's breath hitched at his earnest declaration. "Thank you, Colin," she murmured, her cheeks flushing. "I hope that one day I might find the strength to believe that for myself. But… tell me, why are we promenading again? Is this some ploy to provoke my suitors' jealousy? Your sister Daphne employed such tactics during her season with the Duke."
Colin chuckled, shaking his head. "No, Pen. I did not bring you here for the sake of your suitors. I brought you here because I wish to be with you, to spend time with you."
Her eyes widened slightly. "Oh. But… what if others believe you are courting me? Wouldn't that harm your reputation, considering my family's less-than-stellar circumstances?"
"If they believe I am courting you," Colin said with a teasing glint in his eye, "should I make their assumptions a reality? Tell me, Penelope—would you consider me a worthy suitor?"
"Colin, do not jest," she admonished, though her heart skipped a beat. "Courtship is no trifling matter."
"Who said I am jesting?" Colin replied, his tone suddenly serious. "And you have not answered my question. Would you consider a third son, untitled yet with an inheritance that rivals an earl's, as a worthy suitor? Even one who has yet to fully find his purpose?"
"You will always be deemed worthy by the ton, Colin," Penelope answered, her voice steady despite the flutter in her chest. "You are a Bridgerton."
Colin sighed, frustration flickering across his features. "Pen, I care not for the ton's opinion. What I care about is yours. Do you see me as a worthy suitor? If I were to compete for your hand, would you consider me?"
Her voice trembled slightly as she replied, "I see you, Colin Bridgerton. I will always see you."
Before Colin could say more, they became aware of the curious gazes from passersby, drawn by their abrupt pause in the middle of the path. Benedict approached, his expression one of polite exasperation.
"Miss Featherington," Benedict said, addressing Penelope, "might I borrow my brother for a moment? There are matters we must discuss."
Colin frowned. "Benedict, I am not finished speaking with Penelope."
"You may continue your conversation later, perhaps at Lady Danbury's ball," Benedict replied with a pointed look.
"Colin, go on with brother," Eloise interjected, stepping forward. "I shall take Penelope for some much-needed gossip."
Penelope merely nodded, allowing Eloise to guide her toward a nearby bench once they were out of earshot of the other promenaders.
Eloise sat beside her, concern etched on her face. "Pen, what on earth happened back there? We couldn't hear much, but we caught Colin going on about his worth."
Penelope sighed, glancing at her hands. "El, he asked me if I saw him as a worthy suitor."
"And what did you say?" Eloise demanded.
"I told him I see him. I always see him," Penelope confessed, her voice heavy with uncertainty. "Eloise, what have I done?"
"You've done nothing wrong," Eloise assured her firmly. "It's my idiot brother who's at fault. Do you want him to court you, Pen? I know you love him, so of course you must."
"I do," Penelope admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But he's Colin. He was born to love another, while I… I was born to love him. Perhaps he's merely trying to help me see my own worth. There is no need for him to risk his reputation in the process."
"Why do you always say such things?" Eloise exclaimed, exasperated. "No man's reputation would suffer for choosing you. You are wonderful, Pen. My idiot brother would be lucky—blessed—to have you."
Penelope's gaze softened, though her expression remained wistful. "But he doesn't love me, not in that way, El. He's… confused."
"Perhaps," Eloise said thoughtfully, "but only Colin can determine the truth of his feelings."