Testing Audio -DK Principessa

by kibass91

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7. Penant

Eloise smiled in shameless pride, putting a bit of cockish strut into her walk for effect.

"I know, I know. I'm a wonderful, gracious best friend. And even if at first I was very cross at the thought of you marrying any man, let alone Anthony, I've come to terms with it simply because I love you and adore the thought of being sisters in the eyes of the law as well," Eloise said.

At that, Penelope had to slightly hip bump her back, although her hip only connected with Eloise's thigh.

"The only question I have to ask is for heaven's sake, why Anthony? Benedict is much more liberal and Colin is much more charming. Even little Gregory might be a more suitable partner," Eloise laughed.

Penelope tried to let out a laugh as well, but the sound caught in her throat. If only Eloise knew…

"Come on, Pen. It is only a joke. I know that you have become quite the good friends with my eldest brother in these past weeks. I am sure he will make an alright husband. Not as good as I would have made, but decent at the very least," Eloise said.

With that, Eloise let Penelope's arm drop and she spun rather violently around. She could see the mischief in Eloise's eyes.

"BENEDICT!" She shouted, interrupting her brothers' conversation and causing them to jog to catch up.

"Whatever could be the matter, Eloise?" Benedict inquired.

"That is an excellent question, brother. One that I will answer as soon as we begin walking again," She said, grabbing Benedict's arm roughly and propelling him ahead into the garden.

Penelope had to chuckle at the obvious scheme, only able to shake her head at the Eloise's rapidly moving frame some hundred feet ahead of where Anthony and her stood now.

"Subtle as ever, is she not?" Anthony had to remark as he reached to place Pen's hand in the crook of his elbow. The two began their stroll casually through the gardens.

"Of course, my lord. As subtle as a town crier, your dear sister," Penelope said.

"Soon to be your sister as well," Anthony shot back.

"I'm aware- otherwise why on Earth would I marry you? You are aware that this arrangement was conceived purely from the notion that I would be adopting your sister as my own?" Penelope joked.

Anthony laughed heartily, throwing his back in the current manner he was now inclined to.

"Pen, you wound me. You wound me so deeply that I fear I may die from the injury. What say you to this? Killing your lover before he is even wedded to you?" Anthony teased.

Penelope had to fight a blush at the word lover to say,

"Oh goodness, Anthony, you mustn't die now. You'll need to give me a male heir and a spare before I end your life. Surely you aren't so impulsive as to drop dead before securing my fortunes."

Anthony guffawed at the barb, mimicking being shot with a revolver.

"I fear the damage has been done, my lady. I am deceased," he said.

Penelope could only shake her head at the absolute silliness. Turning her gaze towards the gorgeous gardens, she could only wonder how easily her friendship with Anthony was now. Where once she struggled to imagine herself his wife, now it was not so difficult.

In fact, quite the opposite. For all his stubbornness and pride, it was easy being around Anthony. Whereas with Colin everything had always been draped in tension and longing, being around Anthony was like breathing. Their banter was natural and their tough conversations were manageable. It didn't hurt that he had the impeccable handsomeness of a Bridgerton.

Penelope shook herself from her thoughts. No, that line of thinking was no use to her now. She turned her attention onto the bounty of flowers, seeking out her favorite carnations. Anything to keep her mind focused.

Following the path of Eloise and Benedict, the two began rounding their path back to the house. Anthony cleared his throat and adjusted his waistcoat a bit.

"Pen, may I ask you something?"

"I believe you just did without my consent, so no you may not," Penelope teased.

"I'm serious," Anthony said as he rolled his eyes amusedly.

"Alright then, speak your peace," Penelope replied.

Anthony took a breath, weighing his words carefully. He rarely ever had to filter himself around her, but this was likely the most important thing he had ever asked her in the time they'd gotten to know each other. He couldn't let himself mess this up.

"Pen, you have to know how pleased I am with our engagement thus far. You have exceeded each of my expectations by twofold and continue to advance them further each day. Becoming familiar with you has been such a pleasure that I cannot describe it. But I must know, are you happy?"

Pen looked up at him with wide eyes, and Anthony stared back into hers. Anthony couldn't help but feel the warmth shining out of her sky-blue eyes. Being around her was like night and day to Siena. Where being with Siena had been passionate and gritty and consuming, being with Pen was bright and light.

"Am I…happy?" Pen asked, her eyebrows furrowing a bit.

"Yes"

"Well, I suppose so. I'm in the middle of preparing the wedding, which can be stressful but will be worth it. I'm about to be free of my family and join yours. And then we'll be free to do as we please. Which is quite a bit nicer to imagine now that we are such good friends," Pen said slowly, cautiously.

"And that is what makes you happy: us being such good friends?" Anthony asked.

His voice had lowered quite a bit, imploring for seriousness.

"Of course. It has been one of the greatest pleasures of my life to come to know you as I have," Pen said.

With the house rapidly approaching, Anthony stopped their progress and turned to grip both of her hands within his.

"I know that. What I want to know, Pen…"

Her hands felt so small and delicate in his, and he held them carefully as one would hold a porcelain saucer or a wounded bird.

"Yes?" She asked, confused.

"I want to know if you feel the sa-"

A cry from Eloise cut his statement off squarely. From just around the edge of the house, he could spot a horse and carriage. And before he could even consider who it might be, Benedict answered the question for him.

"COLIN!"

Notes:

Wow! Thank you to everyone who commented last chapter, you really came out to support the boys! I haven't tallied the numbers yet, but it looks like Anthony is winning by a landslide. Interesting, interesting. Although, I do have to wonder if Colin has gotten a fair representation... perhaps that's something I'll have to fix.

Chapter 6: These Tangled Strings

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Standing in the sitting room of the Bridgerton Home, Penelope felt that up was down and down was up. Here she was to be married to one Bridgerton, and the Bridgerton she'd loved for years had returned from an extended tour months ahead of schedule. If she was not clinging to the arm of Anthony, she was afraid she'd faint.

And certainly not like Cressida Cowper's "swoon". Oh no, Penelope would hit the floor so quickly and hard that the Bridgertons might think she passed away right before their eyes. As if he could hear her thoughts, Anthony tightened his lock on her arm and rested his opposite hand over her own.

Meanwhile, Colin attempted to remove his hat and traveling coat under the weight of all the Bridgerton women's affections.

"Ladies, I assure you that I have missed you entirely more than you have me. There is no need to rush me all at once, I will properly greet every single one of you," Colin laughed.

"Oh, but Colin you have been away so long!" Hyacinth shouted, clinging to his waist.

"I know, dearest! Whyever do you think I've returned so early?" Colin laughed, his eyes coming up to lock with Penelope's.

Oh, heavens above. Despite every fiber of her being screaming otherwise, she could not help but get sucked into the vortex of his eyes. Those gorgeous, whiskey-colored eyes that she so easily became inebriated on. But what was that look? Penelope had never seen such a look from Colin and could not fathom the meeting.

Turning his attentions briefly to Hyacinth, Colin easily plucked his youngest sister from his tall frame and set her aside. Striding forward, he reached her and Anthony quickly using the powerful muscles in his legs, surely enlarged by the rigors of his travels. He bowed shortly before the two of them. Penelope could not breath. Colin then reached out his hand to Anthony, which he grasped coolly.

"Brother, it is excellent to see you," Colin said.

Anthony, for as blank as his face had been the entire time, could not but help a small smile.

"As it is for I," Anthony replied.

Colin then turned toward Penelope and reached for the hand that was not wrapped up in his brother's arm. Dipping his head slightly, he pressed a long kiss to her gloved knuckles. Perhaps too long, as his eyes stayed trained directly on Penelope's face.

"And always the greatest pleasure to see you, Pen."

Penelope flushed from cheeks to navel, any reply getting caught behind the lump in her throat. Was there a fire going in this room? It couldn't be, as London was well into the late stages of spring, but her entire body felt possessed by heat.

"Yes," was all she could whisper.

Colin stood straight and smiled at her. It was the same enthusiastic grin, but she could see what Eloise meant before. Colin would never lose his charm and affability, but his boyishness had been tempered. Where once naïve mirth made its home in his eyes, there was a different emotion there now. A steadier, more intense emotion. It felt like a lightning strike between the two of them.

Even as Lady Violet clapped her hands and called for sandwiches and desserts in celebration, the connection between the two of them did not feel broken. Not as they played separate games, not as they had separate conversations and not even as Penelope bid the Bridgertons a good evening. Although she had Anthony by her side almost the entire time, she could feel Colin's presence as if a string tied the two of them together.

Even as her carriage drive further into the night and towards her home, she could still feel that string.

As he watched her carriage disappear down the street, Anthony could not release the knot building in his stomach. Christ, he needed a drink. Waving half-heartedly to his family as they headed to bed, he entered his study and poured himself a double of brandy.

How had today gone so wrong? This was supposed to be another easy day. This was supposed to be the day his bride picked out her gowns with all the giddiness of a schoolboy, but he had mucked that right up. Then, it was supposed to be a lovely dinner and a stroll through the garden. That at least had gone well. But then he was supposed to ask her today. He was supposed to ask her if she felt the same way he had been feeling. If she felt the ease that being around her granted him, if she felt the unconscious ebb and flow of their conversations, if she felt as natural holding onto him as he felt holding onto him.

But Colin had to come back and fuck that up.

He swigged a large gulp of the burning brandy from the bottle, as his glass was now empty. He felt guilty for wishing Colin didn't come home. He had missed his brother terribly, of course he wanted his younger brother within the home once more. But why today? Why so far in advance of the wedding? Just as he and Penelope were getting closer and closer, Colin had to swoop in.

And he had noticed the way those two were around each other. Colin and Penelope had always gotten along swimmingly. Their connection was as plain as day from the very moment they met. But before today, it had just been Pen that had gazed at Colin. His blind brother had never truly noticed just how well he got on with her or how annoyingly perfect they were for each other.

Now, though, he knew the look in Colin's eyes. He had felt that look, deep in his chest and in his loins. That was the look of a man in love. That was a look of a burning, ravenous man. That was the same look he surely had on his face as he went to fight Simon in order to be with Siena. How familiar a look could be, and yet be so unwelcome.

Anthony heard a small kerfuffle coming from the sitting room, so he quickly opened his door and starting walking towards the open room. One sentence caught his ear before entering, though, and he ducked behind a column before he was seen. Heart pounding, Anthony was forced to eavesdrop for the first time in his entire life.

"Because she's marrying your eldest brother, you twat!" He could hear Benedict say.

"Yeah, well that eldest brother is going to hear your lecture if you do not lower your voice. Or did you mean for him to overhear? I surely would not mind a word with him but given that we've been arguing in a whisper I sincerely doubt that this the goal of this interaction," Colin whispered loudly back.

Benedict made a noise of disgust and Anthony could hear the settee creak slightly under his weight as he surely sat down.

Anthony had to take a long, deep breath in order to calm down. They were discussing him and Pen. How lovely.

"All I'm saying is, is that you know exactly what you're doing. Kissing her hand that long, speaking to her in that tone and undressing her with your eyes all night? You're willfully acting upon Anthony's intended and you know it's wrong," Benedict said in a hush.

"Look, I'm not proud of myself either. And I'm well aware of all the wrong I've done, this night and many other nights previous. However, what can you expect me to do? Stand idly by as he marries the one woman in the world that I love?" Colin asked.

"I-"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me that I should give up on the love of my life, Benedict," Colin said.

There was a long pause and a deep sigh.

"You know damn well that I can't do that," Benedict said.

"Exactly."

"I do have to ask, though. Did you look at his face, Colin? Did you look at your brother's face once this evening? That cool, stony mask of his?" Benedict asked.

There was no reply.

"Right. Well, do you know what that look reminded me of? It reminded me of that look that Anthony gets whenever he has to sit behind a desk and be a Viscount for more than two hours. Or when he has to go to a particularly odious ball. Or when Mother would point out yet another debutante ripe for marriage. It's the look he gets when he's trying to conceal his true feelings on a matter. It's the face of a man who must cage his true feelings for the continuation of polite society. I wonder what laid behind that mask as you flirted with his fiancée?"

Again, there was no reply but Anthony had heard quite enough. Silently, Anthony picked himself up from the ground and slipped back into his study.

Indeed, what had laid behind his mask this whole night? The more he tried to sort his emotions, the more they tangled. The burning he felt for Siena, the love but not quite in love he associated with Penelope, the anger and jealousy over Colin, the desperation he felt in setting up the duel last season, the liveliness of his banter with Pen, the relief at his brother returned safely to-

It was simpler to drown himself in liquor, so he did.

Notes:

Is it evil of me to love confusing my readers with Polin vs Penthony? Perhaps, but I enjoy it far too much to cease!

I'm also dying to hearing from you: what did you think about the ever so slightly spicier tone I picked up in this chapter? Yay or nay? Should I crank up the heat a bit or let things simmer? This fic definitely isn't going to end up rated E (potential subsequent one-shots may be entirely other matter) but I could stand to inject a bit more heat.

Chapter 7: An Elegy in Red

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The words Benedict had spoken to Colin kept him awake long into the night and plagued his dreams for the next few days. As much as he absolutely loathed to admit, his brother did have a point. An awful, odious point.

Anthony and Penelope did have a connection.

He could see it as they went on walks together or conversed in the sitting room. He could feel the natural push and pull of their camaraderie at ten paces. He recognized the affection they held for one another in their eyes.

All of it, every last bit, drove stake after stake into his heart.

He knew that Benedict was right: that interfering in his brother's match was wrong and that he should consider his brother's feelings. But damn it all to hell was watching them laugh together killing him.

Keeping his expressions light and his manners polite all the time was absolutely destroying him from the inside out. Holding back confessions of love and pain and deep, burning longing exhausted him. Sometimes he could not stand it.

On their last promenade, Colin had to duck behind a tree to soothe the ache in his chest. Leaning over with his hands on his knees, all he could picture was Pen walking as they were now but down an aisle, married and lost to him forever. Sliding slowly, painfully down to sit on the ground, Colin could not hold back the tears streaming down his face. Taking off his top hat, he bit his fist to silence the sobs wracking his chest.

He wanted to be a better man. He had to let her go. But losing Pen… God, could he imagine having his arm torn from his body? His leg sawed from his hip? His heart ripped from his very chest?

But it was all his fault. He was a bloody blind idiot for never truly appreciating her, for never recognizing how precious she was to him. He knew that he had never been the smartest man in London, but fortune had always been gracious towards him. It seemed now at the worst possible moment, his luck had run out.

His brother had recognized how wonderful Pen was and she chose him. There was nothing to be done.

Rising from the dirt, Colin cleaned himself as best he could. If he was to accept this fate, he would face it as a man. There would be no cold-shoulder, no pouting. If not for his own sake, for Pen's sake he would play the happiest man in the country. Once she set off on her honeymoon, he could fall to pieces. But now? Now he would do everything he could to please her.

Colin launched himself into helping with wedding preparations like no man had ever before. If there was an errand that needed running, an order that needed filling or a party member that needed assistance, Colin was the first to volunteer. Keeping his hands busy distracted him from his misery since he could not dull the ache in his chest.

Besides, while he was committed to allowing Pen and Anthony their happiness, he was not sure what he would say or do should he have too much alone time with the object of his affection. It was one thing for him to hide a grimace into his wine cup over dinner as she discussed some aspect of the marriage license or the guest list, but it was entirely another to hold back his true feelings while deep in discussion with her.

He had been successful in his attempts thus far, but as he arranged a sample bouquet for Pen, his luck ran out.

"What are you on Earth are you doing with all those flowers, Colin?" Penelope asked from the doorway of the sitting room.

Colin jumped, knocking his knees into the desk where piles of different colored flowers lay scattered in layers around a vase. Turning his attention to the doorway, Colin could not help but lose all words at the sight of her.

Her hair laid in soft waves around her shoulders, with the upper portion of red locks pinned lightly back. Unlike her usual style of dress, she wore a very fitting emerald green dress. Even the neckline of her dress had been adjusted in a more… pleasing fashion. All of her was beauty, as she had always been.

Wide eyed, Colin rose to his feet and promptly knocked over his chair. He swallowed hard, fumbling to get the furniture upright once more while unable to break his stare at her for more than a few seconds at a time. Once righted, he gave a deep bow. Could the floor open up and swallow him whole, he wondered? He couldn't tear his eyes from the floorboards as he prayed that they would.

"Are you quite done?" Pen asked, a coy little smile resting on her angelic face.

Colin rubbed his neck, giving a small chuckle.

"I do believe I am," He said.

It was then that he looked up and caught the gaze of Penelope. Days of tension and longing flooded his body, and the electricity coursed through his veins. In Pen's blue eyes he could see the wildness he felt reflected back at him.

Anthony, he had to remind himself. He could not betray Anthony in such a way.

He turned back to the desk full of flowers, sitting down once more. Perhaps the stupidest decision he had made, as he could hear the gentle woosh of Pen's skirts crossing the room to stand beside his chair.

Her eyes scanned the exorbitant amount of flowers laid out on the table and placed in the vase. Colin's breath caught in his throat as he caught a whiff of her delicate rose-scented perfume, which smelled better than anything than anything laying on the table in front of him. The unexpected brush of her arm and hair on his shoulder as she reached for one of the flowers in the vase sent him straight to heaven, and he scooted his chair's seat further under the desk to hide the blood that was rushing to his face as well as other places.

Pen smiled at the deep red carnation in her hand before giving it a light sniff.

"My favorite flowers, carnations are," Pen said, taking another smell.

"I know."

Penelope turned her gaze to him, locking eyes. He had to avert them and turn his attention back to the vase in fear of what he wanted to do with her- to her.

"The florist showed me a sample of the wedding bouquet that your mother picked out. I knew you would hate all the marigolds and chrysanthemums, so I asked for the chance to design a bouquet you'll actually like. Thus, the carnations you love so much. And roses, I remember how fond you are of deep red roses," Colin said.

"This must be costing you a fortune," She whispered.

"Money does not matter. It is the very least I could do," He said.

"Yes, but you must have spent an awful amount of time to run to the florist just to bring back all these flowers- which you will run back later today," She said.

"Pen. I swear to you, there's nothing more I'd rather be doing."

"Is that so?"

Colin looked up into the eyes of his one true love, pouring every sentiment he'd never get to say out loud into one sentence. His brother damned, he would return to his resolution if he only could say this.

"The best parts of life are often long labors of love. I believe that the wonders of the world are only called so because they are the products of long, passionate devotion. I cannot build you a true wonder of the world, nor change a history of oversight and hurt, but I should very much like to provide you every bit of small wonder and beauty I can from now until the day I die. Starting with this bouquet."

Colin's words hung in the air, heavy with crackling tension. Pen's eyes were full blown and a blush had blossomed across her cheeks and chest. As her tongue darted out to wetten her lips, Colin almost lost his constitution and leaned in ever so slightly.

However, the front door of the Bridgerton home flung open and the pair could hear Benedict arriving back with Hyacinth and Gregory.

Shock painting her face, Penelope quickly gathered her skirts and made a mad dash out the back door of the home. Colin could only sink further into his chair, bringing his hand to loosen his cravat. He would go mad, he decided. The only outcome possible would be to go mad.

Benedict greeted him as the youngest Bridgertons took their place on the carpet each with a new amusement. Penelope entered back into the room within a few minutes, feigning a long walk alone in the garden. She requested an escort from Benedict home, and the two disappeared from the home. Colin could not bear to watch them go. Instead, he just fingered a small red carnation.

Taking the flower with him, he slipped from the room and entered Anthony's study. It was time for a drink.

Notes:

Oh, we have quite the chapter coming up next.

Chapter 8: The Blood, It Boils

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Sitting in the plush leather chair behind his brother's messy desk, Colin sipped on a double helping of scotch and twirled the carnation around in his fingers.

As much as he wanted to, he couldn't regret his behavior today. He was determined to let Penelope go, even if it would doom him to eternal unhappiness. But after a lifetime of blindness and now knowing that he had let his true love slip by him, he could not help but feel drawn to her. A small twinge of guilt flashed within in him (that was his brother's fiancée, after all) but he knew that as long as she bore the Featherington name, it was no sin.

He did not care to think about what his life would be like once she took on the Bridgerton surname.

Colin took a gulp of his drink and tried to clear the image of the endless travels he would have to embark on to keep the memories of her from overcoming his mind permanently. He supposed that in order to clear her name from his heart, he may even have to join an excursion to Antarctica. Perhaps he could freeze to death in the cold and miss the birth of their first child.

Colin slammed him drink down on the desk perhaps a bit too hard and buried his face in his hands. He really did not care to think about what activities his brother and Penelope would have to undertake in order to produce said child. The very mention made his blood boil.

Raising his eyes, Colin noted that the carnation he had been holding fell from the top of the desk into a cracked drawer on the side of his brother's desk. Sighing, Colin yanked open the drawer and reached for the carnation. Upon removal, however, Colin found himself staring at a letter. The letter was marked in his brother's handwriting with a single name- Penelope.

Did he dare open it? He could not decide if he wanted to read whatever his brother had to say to Penelope. He believed he may vomit if he had to hear musings on his brother's arousal or affection or what have you.

But some small part of him- a deeply buried, masochistic piece- needed to know. He needed to know if his brother smoldered for the woman as well. Colin wanted the truth.

Reaching for the letter, Colin unfolded the pages with care. There were only two wrapped in the bundle and with no seal. Could his brother not properly write a love letter? He scoffed at the idea of writing such a short letter of love to Pen.

His disgust, however, quickly turned to confusion. The "love letter" appeared to be some kind of… contract? Colin's eyes dashed over the words. With every turn of phrase, his confusion turned to anger.

Could it be true?

There was simply no denying it.

Anthony was marrying Pen out of convenience.

Raising from his chair, Colin abandoned his seat behind the desk and whisked out of the study. The letter was clutched in his fist as he began searching for his eldest brother. Storming down hall after hall, his fury increased with every step. Spotting a familiar frame in the garden from an upper story window, Colin raced down the stairs and out of doors.

Anthony, hearing him approach, turned to greet his brother warmly but upon seeing the state of Colin turned confused. He became especially perplexed as Colin grabbed him by the scruff of his collar and began dragging him towards the tree line and away from the house. When had his younger brother gotten so large and strong?

"Colin! Colin, what the ever-loving fuck are you doing? Unhand me!" Anthony exclaimed.

Upon reaching his destination, Colin did so.

And promptly nailed Anthony in the face with a swift punch.

Wide-eyed, he staggered backwards.

"COLIN!"

Colin threw another punch to Anthony's chin, and Anthony swung back to hit him straight in the chest. It was then that Colin brought the paper up to Anthony's face and shoved it straight in.

"What the FUCK is this?" Colin shouted.

Anthony took a moment to snatch the paper from his hands and glance over the contents. Rightfully so, his expression dropped into one of guilt.

Seeing all he needed to, Colin tackled his brother and began hitting him over and over again. Aiming for his chest, cheeks- anywhere he could land a blow. Anthony, ever quick and strong, managed to flip the two of them by kneeing Colin in the stomach.

"You have NO RIGHT, Colin!" Anthony yelled, his breathing labored.

Colin crouched on all fours, fighting to return the wind to his lungs amidst a barrage of pain.

"Bloody hell, Anthony, I have EVERY right to beat you to a pulp right now. I love her. I love her, and you're marrying her out of convenience? And you want me to stand there silently like an idiot? Christ, the fucking nerve of you!" Colin shouted, rising once more and throwing another punch at Anthony, who managed to dodge it this time.

"You didn't even know you loved her until what- a few months ago? How could I have known? Hmm? Am I to read your mind all the way from Greece? Am I to guess that you love a woman you've left behind to gallivant across Europe? That you broke the heart of last season when you intended to marry her COUSIN? That you have never acknowledged or even noticed the feelings of since you were children? Is that where your right to be furious stems from?" Anthony shouted.

Anthony used the momentum built from his speech to tackle Colin into a tree, wrestling to get his arms pinned.

"I know I have been an idiot in romance, Anthony, a downright blind idiot. I know that I have penance to pay. I can recognize now all the pain I have caused Pen that she may never forgive me for. But at least I have never, ever used her for my own selfish convenience. I have never looked her in the face and implied that she is such an outcast of society that she should give up all hope for love and marry me so she doesn't die alone of old age. How could you let her deprecate herself in such a way? How could you use her like that?"

Colin shook his head in disgust and for the first time in his life, he easily overpowered Anthony and freed his arms. He pushed Anthony off him and onto the ground. Panting with exertion and anger, he took a few paces and leaned against a tree, sliding down to rest at its base.

Anthony sat still on the ground, slowly regaining the wind that was knocked out of him. Wide eyed and sweating, the two brothers stared each other down.

"I… I love her," Colin said between pants. "I love her, and you're marrying her because she was the easiest option."

"Colin-"

"I was willing to- I was willing to let you do it. Because I thought you loved her too. That you loved each other. But clearly this agreement shows that you don't, and I can feel it in my heart that she doesn't love you. And surely you must have seen that I did? Perhaps not before my travels, nor in between. These past few days, though, you had to have recognized it within me. But you're still marrying her."

"You claimed to love Marina as we-"

"Penelope is different and you know that," Colin said.

And he was right. Marina had been a song whistled on a bright afternoon: pretty and infatuating. Something that got stuck in your ear. But Penelope was a hymn: sacred, beautiful, and timeless.

Colin knew that declaring his love to Marina was a matter of youthful indiscretion and inexperience but declaring love to Penelope was divine. For the hearts and relationships on the line, it was a phrase that once spoken, could not be taken back. It was to whisper the name of God aloud and find Heaven on Earth. Yes, to love the dearest Pen was wholly another matter.

Colin knew that, and Anthony recognized it within Colin. There was nothing Anthony could say except,

"I know, Colin. I know that."

There was a beat before Colin was washed in horror as realization rolled over him. Anthony watched as his brother's expression changed, wondering what was possessing him.

"By God, you DO love her. You're in love with her, too!" Colin accused.

"No! No. I'm not in love with Pen," Anthony shouted.

Colin scoffed.

"Pen? You call her Pen now? Are you so familiar that you have been bestowed the right to use such an intimate nickname?" Colin interrupted.

"You have been away, Colin, so in private yes I have. I have all the right in the world," Anthony said.

Colin lunged from his position next to the tree to strangle his brother, but Anthony rolled out of the way just in time. Colin, now covered in dirt and grass and all sorts of natural residues, pounded his fist into the ground and began to shed tears. Anthony watched in agony. He prayed for the words to stop his brother's torture to manifest in his mind. God help him, he would say the words if it killed him.

"I'm not in love with her, Colin. Truly, I'm not. But I like her. I like her manner, her figure and everything about her. I am… fond of her. More than a sister or a friend, but less than a fiancée or a wife. I don't know a word for it. I just know that I could possibly grow to be in love with her and that's enough," Anthony said.

Gasping in air, Colin slowly turned to lie on his back on the ground. The tears continued to stream down the sides of his face.

"Could grow to be in love with her? Could? Does she not deserve better than the chance of love?" Colin asked.

Anthony had to pause, had to swallow a feeling he refused to name.

"She deserves a man that chose her first. And as far as I'm concerned, that's neither of us."

Those words rang true to the both of them.

"Colin, you were away. Pen-Penelope and I have become closer as is natural in these circumstance. It was not my intention to hurt you. I swear on our father's grave that if I had known you cared for her so, I would have never even considered a flirting dance let alone a marriage. I'm sorry Colin," Anthony said.

Colin let out a shaky breath, a sound so rough that it scared Anthony to hear it come from the lips of his ever-joyous brother. It was terrifying to see Colin so upset. His nature, although tempered by his growth, was always pleasant. Even when stubborn, infatuated and angry, he never lost control and spun down to depths this low.

"Apologies are but flags to the wind, brother, and I seek sails. Tell me- what are you going to do about it?" Colin asked.

Anthony moved closer to his younger brother and laid down on the grass beside him. What was he going to do? The idea of breaking his engagement with the young redhead struck his heart.

Closing his eyes and running his hands over his face, the young Viscount had to face the truth for once in his life. He could no longer run from it and he could no longer act impulsively and emotionally. He simply had to deal with the fact that he did love Pen.

He was sincere in stating that he was not in love with her yet, but imagine what could be even a year from now? He hadn't a clue, but a part of him wanted to find out. Wanted, for once in his life, to see something through to the end. Colin had a point, though. Penelope was in love with Colin and if Colin reciprocated, how could he deny her true love? So Anthony pivoted.

"I don't know what to do, Colin."

He took a stilling breath.

"Even- even if I wanted to break the engagement, I'm not sure I could. We have made so many preparations, our families have expectations now. I loathe everything in the world to say it, but I'm not sure the Baron and Baroness Featherington would accept a third son after being promised a Viscount for a son-in-law. Even if that man was still a Bridgerton," Anthony said.

Even if he was pulling the reasoning from his arse, the logic was still sound.

"Besides, haven't… haven't you broken Pen's heart enough? Years she's pined after you and only now that she's a woman spoke for do you come gallivanting back to London claiming to love her? And only after you found at that she was engaged in a marriage of convenience? What is she to think?"

Colin ruminated on the thought, refusing to give once more into the temptation of bruising his brother's devilishly handsome face. His brother did have something of a point. How long had he ignored the longing looks from Penelope, the sweet words and the attempts at intimacy? How many times did he convince himself that her actions were purely platonic, never truly seeing her? His heart ached at the thought, but he could not deny the merit of his argument. So Colin turned to what Colin does best: levity.

"That I'm a fool? But she already knows that, brother," Colin softly said.

The two men chuckles lightly, their hearts not in the action. Colin, at his rapidly declining hopes, and Anthony, at his false reasoning, could not let their moods disappear so easily.

The tension between the two brothers felt caging to the both of them. As if it was forbidden to reach out and clasp each other's arms and discuss an agreement. This was beyond all manner of logic. This was no game to played: not with their hearts and especially not Pen's. Colin turned to look at Anthony, sincerity etched into his eyes.

"Anthony, I am not the foolish young boy that once refused to listen to the experience of his family's head. I am not the type of man who will overlook the beat of another human being's heart, either. If you say that you love her and you say that it would be impossible for me to marry her, if she'd even have me in the first place, I will trust your word. Even if it kills me, I'll give you my blessing to marry her. But if there is any chance, any at all, that you could release her, please consider doing so. I know you care for her deeply, but I am in love with her. I suppose that if I hadn't been so blind, I might always have loved her. But either way, I will respect your decision," Colin said.

And with that note, he rose to stand and started walking back towards the Bridgerton home. He walked stiffly and was covered in debris but he did not care. And all Anthony could do was watch him walk away, frozen on the ground and paralyzed by the options before him.

Notes:

We're getting into the endgame now! Tell me what you're most looking forward to as we begin to approach the climax and ending of our story!

Chapter 9: Proceed

Notes:

You definitely shouldn't listen to "when the party's over" by Billie Eilish on repeat while reading this chapter. That would be a terrible idea. How awful.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

My Dear Reader,

One can only wonder the state of the Bridgerton home with all the excitement occurring within it's walls. The middle son, off traveling until recent, returned rather swiftly for the marriage of his brother. Perhaps a bit too swiftly? One can only wonder how a bachelor received an announcement and flew home so quick-

Penelope crumpled the piece of paper and cast it into the small blaze crackling in her fireplace. It was a particularly cold night for summer to be right around the corner, which did not help her with her writer's block. It was a good thing this edition would not be due until tomorrow night, because she was certain nothing worth positing would be drawn from her quill scratching tonight.

No, she was much too distracted and emotional for that.

Try as she might, she could not ease the endless roaring of her mind over the events of the last season. Her engagement with Anthony, which had led to dear friendship… and perhaps something more? The whirlwind of pressure and stress this wedding had placed upon her. The way Colin had rushed back to London well in advance of her wedding. The way he looked at her, acted around her and spoke to her. The way he had leaned in…

And this damn cold room!

Penelope drew away from her writing desk and went to stand by the fireplace. The small pops and crackles of the wood were a familiar sound that reminded her of being small and innocent, sitting by the fireplace in the Featherington winter residence. It was a much simpler time than the one she was facing now, and a small part of her wished she could go back.

A larger part, however, knew that she wouldn't trade her position here for the world. Even if she was trapped between caring for her fiancée and… having feelings for his brother, she was growing to love the woman she had become. Even if she had to write under a pen name for publishing, she was proud of herself. In seizing her fate, she had begun to shake herself from the grave of self-deprecation and was molding herself to be the woman she wanted to be. The little girl in front of the fire about to face the world could never imagine such a woman.

Since the events of the past year or so, she had learned she was smart and funny and wonderful. She could dance and laugh and be just as merry as any other lady could be. And with the development of her hairstyles and dressing, she was finally beginning to feel at home in her skin. Certainly not a muse of the famous galleries, but nowhere near the frumpy, grotesquely overweight girl she had often pictured herself as.

She was like a portrait of a particularly ancient ancestor. Not a beauty for the ages, but a sort of striking pretty that looked perfectly placed on the walls of a well-loved home. Though, perhaps the Bridgerton brothers would disagree.

The thought sent her to sit on the floor, sighing as deeply as she could.

What was the meaning of those men?

Anthony with his casual touches and arm holding. The way they would laugh so easily together. It felt as if she could tell him anything- anything at all- and they could converse over it for hours. Eloise would always be her best friend, but she felt quite close to Anthony. Intimate.

But Colin- what could she say about him? She was used to pining over him, to long gazes. It was always unreciprocated. But now it all felt different. She wasn't an idiot: a man looking at her like that and acting like that meant something. What it meant for sure… she could not say for sure, but it certainly felt loving. Was that just her hopes rising once more? She could say, however, that she liked it.

Still, she was engaged to Anthony and even if she wasn't, even if she wanted to pursue whatever Colin was feeling, there was nothing she could do. In a society such as the one she was trapped in a polite young lady did NOT approach a man. No circumstance would permit it.

But if she could…

The thought tossed around in her head. If she could say something, if she could do something… what would it be?

Laying down on her back, Pen let the diamonds and sapphires on her ring finger sparkle in the light. The mine cut glittered perfectly in the dark room and the sapphire seemed to contain the flames itself. It was the prettiest thing she had ever been given and she treasured the ring.

But did she really love the ring? If given the opportunity to trade it for another ring, would she? Did the somewhat gaudy setting truly suit her? If she was sitting in a room full of rings for her choosing, would she still choose it? And did that even matter?

She loved Anthony. Truly, she did.

But she wasn't in love with him.

He was becoming her best friend and she felt for him. With time, she knew she could fall deeply in love with him- maybe even more than she loved Colin. But what sort of standard was that? How could she compare the loves she felt for each brother when the base standard was the love she felt for one of them?

Tears ran down the sides of her cheeks and into her hair. She wanted to be in love with Anthony already. Everything felt so natural with him. Being with him was so easy and steady. Like walking through a field on a bright, breezy day. She could stop and smell every flower with him, commenting on the diversity of species and aesthetic arrangement of petals. No pressure, just the sun drawing out every freckle on his cheeks and freshly picked blossoms to weave into her hair. But God help her- she didn't want easy.

Was it wrong to want both trust and passion? She wanted to look across a room and feel her husband's soul within her own chest. She wanted to make someone nervous. She wanted to make their heart pound and skip beats and sing. She deserved both commitment and deep, mad, wild love.

The ocean called to her, and she wanted to run over sand and surf to meet it. Even if sand flung everywhere, even her gown was soaked, even if she was knocked off her feet a time or two… it was worth it. To stand in the sea with Colin, his shirt drenched and her hair saturated, was what she truly desired. To feel his lips, salty though they may be, press with ravenous wanting into her own.

With the truth laid before her, Penelope could do nothing but stare into the flames before her.

Why did she hurt herself this way? There was no use in this line of thinking. Colin may have seemed altered, but that was no guarantee of his feelings. And even if his feelings had been altered, what could he do? What would she want him to do? Break the engagement between herself and his brother?

Penelope, for all the goodness within her, could not bear to ask Colin to do that. What would it do to their family, to their public standing? Anthony's feelings would be crushed in the process, as well. She did not believe him to love her, but there certainly was a mutuality in their affection that seemed to run deeper for him. That day in the garden, when Colin had arrived? What would he have said if only he had the time?

It bore no good to dwell upon it further.

Anthony had been the first to ask for her hand when no other man was willing to have her. She would keep her word, even if it meant denying the beat of her heart.

Notes:

I promise that I am reading every single one of your wonderful, lovely comments and appreciating every word, but I've gotten a bit busy this week and figured you'd like another update more than a response to each comment. Let me know what you think about this chapter!

Chapter 10: The Wedding

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The day of the wedding arrived much sooner than Penelope had anticipated. She supposed that they had spent most of the season preparing for the event, but it still didn't feel like a long time at all.

Now that the day was here, though, she hardly knew what to do with herself. Lying in her bed, her room slowly being lit by the rising beams of the sun, there was no more running from her mind. She was to marry Anthony Bridgerton today.

She buried her face into her pillow, squeezing her eyes shut as if she could press every thought out of her head. There simply was no good thought today.

She didn't dread the thought of marrying Anthony- he was still very close to her heart- but the reality sinking in of her impending nuptials made the imagery too sharp in her mind. Her vows, Colin's presence and the fading but still unexplained bruises on Anthony's face. The picture was too clear for her to handle.

It hardly helped that both Anthony and Colin had been the strangest of men these past two weeks. Colin, as promised, had flung himself neck deep into preparations to the point that Lady Violet would direct any questions about the event towards him! His presence, although at a distance, was ever constant. There were very few days that she could not feel his eyes rest upon her from across a room or a hall or a shop. She tried not to catch his eye, though, because it only made her upset once more.

Anthony, on the other hand, was absent most of the time. From the day the bruises and small cuts had appeared on his face, he had been consumed with tasks that kept him busy from dawn until dusk. The excuses ranged from unquestionable, like when he went to retrieve a marriage license, to downright absurd, like when he spent the whole day at a private art gallery across town with Benedict.

Imagine- days before his own wedding with plenty of business to be wrapped up before the honeymoon, and he spent the entire day across the ton looking at paintings with his brother Benedict. Just waltzing around quiet corridors remarking on brushstrokes and muses and lighting. The nerve of him!

She worried that perhaps Anthony was having second thoughts or had found her mooning over Colin, but she consoled herself with the notion that Anthony would have told her if anything was wrong. He would, wouldn't he? Surely he'd mention it, right?

Shaking the thought from her mind, she rose and fully flung open the curtains. She had ruminated long enough. It was time to prepare for her wedding.

Some three hours later, with the maids and the women of her family having exited the room in the back of the church she was to wed in, Penelope stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair was pulled back into a loose updo, with wispy waves framing her face so delicately. Her gown, the palest shade of ivory she had ever laid eyes upon, fit her frame perfectly. Although it was not the style of the season, the lowered waistline, the slightly puffed skirts and the almost bare shoulder suited her well.

For once in her life, there was not a bad thing she could say about herself. She did not think of herself as Aphrodite, but she certainly was a picture to behold. She felt… well, she felt perfectly beautiful. Not only was she smart and witty and bold, but she was beautiful.

Not cute, not pretty.

Beautiful.

And she was ready to show everyone.

Stepping out into the hall, her father held out his arm and escorted her to the large wooden doors where she would enter.

Clearing his throat, Penelope's father turned to look at her. She expected to feel some sort of nostalgia from looking at her father for the last time as his "little girl" but she felt nothing.

"You look quite nice," He politely offered.

"Thank you."

The two stood in an awkward silence, waiting for their cue to enter.

"Penelope, I know I have not been the best father in the country. Nor your mother or sisters the best relations either. But I hope you should know that I have always wished you happiness with whatever gentleman you were predisposed to pick. Whether he was titled or not."

Penelope furrowed her eyebrows, for wherever could this conversation being headed? She was quite literally on the cusp of being married. Married to a man who certainly had a title.

"All I mean to say is that if you were to change your mind, I would not oppose it. And I could assure you that I would subdue your mother into agreement," He said.

Penelope nodded her head, flabbergasted.

"Thank you, father."

The organ within the sanctuary began playing, and the doors of the church swung open to reveal the wedding before her. Smiling as she walked up the aisle, she kept her eyes focused on Anthony.

Dressed in his formal blacks, he looked quite the handsome gentleman. His hair was pushed back from his face, showing his sculpted face. Although his face was calm, there was a look of wistfulness in his eyes. She focused on them, for she feared herself if she looked at any witnesses or any particular Bridgerton.

Reaching the alter, Anthony grasped her hand and squeezed it gently. The vicar launched into a far too lengthy passage about love and fidelity and hope. How they were the truest things in the world. How marriage was sacred and needed to be treated as thus. Finally ending with one sentence:

"The marriage license, my lord?"

The vicar had his hand extended out towards Anthony, waiting for the slip of paper. But Anthony was frozen staring at the hand. The strangest expression laid over his face.

"Pen, do you really want to marry me?"

He whispered the words so quiet that she doubted even the aging vicar could hear him. He did not look at her.

"Anthony- yes. Of course! Why on earth would you ask that now?" She hissed back at him.

"Because you're in love with Colin," he whispered back.

Penelope recoiled a bit, the tears springing to her eyes. Anthony finally turned to face her, a sad smile gracing his lips.

"The license, my lord?" The vicar asked once more.

The people in the pews began to murmur, unsure of what was happening.

"Anthony…" Penelope exclaimed under her breath.

"If you were free- free to choose whatever your heart desires most- who would you pick?" Anthony asked.

Penelope could only blink, the edges of her eyes wet.

"Please don't ask me that right now- we're about to be married. Think about our families? The ton? Our financial agreements? Your… your feelings? It doesn't matter what my heart desires."

"Of course it does. It always does. Forget all of it, I will handle everything. The only thing you need weigh is your own feelings, Pen," he said.

"Anthony," She whispered as quietly as she possibly could. "I hate in all the world to say it, because you know that I love you and being married to you will be wonderful, but my heart belongs to Colin. And perhaps that may change one da-"

Anthony's eyes were watery and he squeezed her hands, letting a silence fall over her.

"Ah," Anthony exclaimed softly. "I thought you'd say that."

With that, he reached into an internal pocket of his jacket and pulled out the marriage license. The vicar took the paper in his wrinkled hands and read over it.

"Sir, I do believe you've made a mistake. You are the Viscount Anthony Bridgerton? This license is addressed for Mr. Colin Bridgerton," the vicar said loudly.

Penelope could hear the gasp fall from her lips in unison with the crowd behind her.

Anthony leaned closer to her.

"You deserve to be with the man you're in love with and is also in love with you, Pen. And if it is in my power to help my dearest friend, a woman I hold so close to my heart, then I have an obligation to her."

With that, Anthony slipped his ring off of her finger and walked towards Colin Bridgerton who stood in the pews a few feet away.

"Brother-" was the only word Colin could manage.

Colin had stood up from his seat. His eyes had widened and his breathing was increased, his chest heaving slightly from the confusion. Anthony pulled another ring from his pocket and placed it within his palm, curling his hand around it.

"The decision had to be up to her, Colin. This whole time we've been deciding for her, but she deserves to be with the man of her choosing. And I think we all know that as much as she cares for me, she'll always love you more. All you must do is treat her like the most wonderful woman in the world. Appreciate her every day and every night. Be in love with her for the rest of your lives," Anthony said.

"Are you sure? Of course I want what Penelope wants most of all, but you…" Colin trailed off.

"Nonsense."

Colin looked to his mother and the Featheringtons, but no one in the familial party protested. The baroness, when attempting to stand, was pushed back into her seat by her husband. Eloise, Benedict, Daphne- everyone was smiling at him, if very surprised. Colin pulled his brother into a tight hug, and Anthony patted him on the back before releasing him. Floating on air, Colin turned back to the altar and approached Penelope.

"Hello."

Penelope felt faint, but she was not the meek girl she used to be.

"Are you aware, sir, that your family produces the biggest idiots in London?" She whispered, dazed and confused.

Colin chuckled, a few tears running down his face.

"I didn't know this was happening, Pen. I swear-"

The vicar cleared his throat, giving Colin a look. Colin ignored him and pushed through.

"I swear I did not plan this. I understand if you refuse me; you have every right to deny me after the hell I have put you through. Us through. But if you'll have me… if you truly desire me… I'm in love with you."

"Colin, I don't know what to say."

"Say yes. God almighty say yes. I'll get down on my knees and beg you to have me. I'll spend the next decade groveling at you feet if I could marry you," He said.

Penelope could hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth, but the look in his eyes told her it was all truth. Suddenly, a future where none of the past hurts would matter, where they could be together for the rest of their lives laid before her. There was only one answer she could give.

"Yes."

The vicar kept glancing down at the license and back up at the two of them. He could not fathom the circumstances before him and had the greatest inclination not to. So he proceeded. Running through the end of their vows, Penelope and Colin both exchanged their "I Do's".

Finally, the moment had arrived. Colin pulled his new wife into his arms. The smile on her face was unbreakable, her rosy lips curving in the most heart-pounding way.

"I love you," He said, reaching one hand up to grasp her chin.

"I love you, too," She replied.

And for the first of hopefully a million more times, Colin and Penelope kissed.

Notes:

AHHH! We've almost reached the ending, but there is one more chapter left! An epilogue of sorts, and a behind-the-scenes explanation for the seemingly Disney-like switch at the alter. Let me know what you thought about this chapter- I haven't had the time to reply to all of the comments, but I read every single one and I always appreciate the kind words and feedback.

Edit: I'm hearing you guys on the Anthony situation- don't worry, I'm going to take care of him too!

Chapter 11: All Good Things Must Have a Beginning

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Sitting in the pews by himself, Penelope and Colin having rushed out of the church followed by their guests, Anthony studied the ring in his hands. He knew that he made in the right decision in letting Penelope choose Colin because that was what his heart truly desired. Still, he did not want to watch them drive off towards their wedded bliss quite yet.

Coming to the realization that he needed to let Penelope go was not an easy one. Sitting with a slab of uncooked steak pressed to the rapidly-forming bruises on his cheeks, Anthony had stayed up all night pondering the future. He was tempted to still marry Pen- there were few in society that would argue as long as she consented, it was his right.

But it didn't feel that way.

How could he look her in the eyes? How could he look into the eyes of the woman he considered to be his greatest friend, a woman he had such admiration and love for, and deny her the right to choose her own fate? How could he call her his equal with his lips and shackle her to him for the rest of her days with his actions? Could he honestly look himself in the mirror in a year, five years, thirty years knowing that Pen could have had the life she always wanted- and that he stole it from her?

He could not bear it.

Even if they happened to fall deeply in love as he suspected they would, he could not gamble with her happiness in that way. And so he began to plan.

If he was going to offer Penelope options, he was going to present them in a way that she could freely choose. If she was worried about him or the ton or finances or anything, she might be tempted to choose the safe option. That was no better. She needed to choose her heart's desire- he would accept no less.

The first piece he had to settle was with her family. He knew that marrying a third son was far different than marrying a Viscount and the demotion may upset Pen's family. So he made a little visit to her father.

Anthony hadn't spoken to him more than twice (one time being to ask for Pen's hand) but the Baron's reputation was well-known about the town. As a man of luxurious tastes and a less than extravagant set of finances, Baron Featherington was motivated foremost by coin. Status and power were all well and necessary, but the lining of his pocketbook was worth far more than anything else.

So he gambled. Spoke freely with the gentleman and made him a deal: if Penelope married him, he would refuse her dowry. But if she chose to marry another man, say another certain Bridgerton, the Baron's blessing would be highly rewarded. They do say that good things come in threes. Perhaps Pen's dowry would be returned to the Baron even more plentiful than imaginable.

The Baron had quickly agreed, and Anthony knew that for the windfall the Baron would temper his wife.

The next step had been even easier if a bit awkward. Speaking to his mother in matters of love had not been his favorite use of time, but he needed her blessing to offer the choice. He may be the head of the Bridgerton family, but everyone knew that the matriarch was the true force of power behind the clan.

He had expected shock from his mother, but Lady Violet had simply put down her teacup and grasped his hand. She explained that she had had an inkling of the situation, but she did not want to interfere until the brothers had solved the situation on their own. She knew that the decision was not easy for Anthony, but she was proud of him for making it. To sacrifice the potential happiness of oneself for the assurance of another's was certainly noble.

He did not shed a few tears over the compliment. Certainly not.

After talking to his mother, he needed to talk to the new Duchess of Hastings. Daphne had been quite busy in her first full season as a married noble, but upon hearing the situation she had cancelled all of her appointments for the afternoon. Step by step, the two walked through every possible scenario and what would be done to combat it.

Nothing would catch them off guard. Not Lady Whistledown, not the ranks of the Cowper family and not the queen herself.

Benedict and Eloise were the final piece of the puzzle. The tasks of getting the license, picking a new ring in stead of Colin and collecting information on potential manors for the newlyweds to purchase on return from their honeymoon would take all the possible time he had left.

The excuses of Benedict proved invaluable and the assistance of Eloise in all matter of taste were essential. He hated to drag his sister into… persuading the archbishop to grant a special license under Colin's name through "gossip" and sizable "donations" but he had to admit the ventures would have been Herculean without Eloise's headstrong nature reinforcing his own.

In the end, the marriage of Penelope Featherington to one Colin Bridgerton was quite a team effort stemming from the love of both parties.

The day and it's preparations had been exhausting and heart-wrenching, but seeing her look at Colin… he knew he had made the right choice. He knew that her heart would always choose him, and she deserved the choice.

Even if it hurt him for the time being.

"You look quite upset, my lord. Almost as if your brother just married your fiancée, Lord Bridgerton," A voice said from behind him.

Turning his head, a beautiful woman stood in the aisle a few feet from him. Anthony was instantly struck by how beautiful she was. Her flawless dark skin and strong cheekbones were only outshone by her raven black hair, smoothed perfectly into a done-up coiffure. Her eyes twinkled with mirth, as if she was letting him into a particularly funny joke.

"What a blunt thing to say to a marry just abandoned at the alter, madam."

"I would hardly call what just occurred an abandonment. More of an abdication," she said.

"A rose by any other name; I hardly think semantics rank in importance in matters such as these," he replied.

The lady slowly approached his pew, and Anthony stood to face her.

"Of course it does. A man left at the alter is to be pitied. A man abdicating at the alter for the sake of his brother's happiness is a man to be honored. Not many men would risk potential ire and embarrassment from the ton. Your family should be extremely proud of you. I'm sure from your brother's expression, he will be in your gratitude for the rest of his life. More importantly, though, you should be incredibly proud of yourself," she said.

"For making a fool of myself when I corrected myself at the possible second?"

She rolled her eyes rather unladylike and crossed her arms.

"For being a man of true character, my lord. Although your self-pitying does perhaps call my judgement into question."

Anthony could only stare at this woman in shock. What woman could be so straightforward and bold, almost to the point of impertinence?

"Pray tell madam, what is your name?"

"Miss Katharine Sheffield, sir. And yours is Lord Anthony Bridgerton, yes?"

"However could you tell?" Anthony said rather sarcastically.

"Oh, I don't know. I think I may have attended a wedding of yours once," She shot back.

"Funny, as I have never heard your name mentioned in the ton before," he said.

Anthony winced as soon as the words left his mouth, recognizing how harsh they were. He expected a tongue lashing of the century for his rudeness but it did not come. Instead, Miss Sheffield stood there with a slowly growing smile on her face. What kind of woman was she? Her eyes twinkled, enjoying the rather caustic exchange.

"I suppose I should be grateful for the opportunity to remedy that. And the chance to stop a good man from a downward spiral of self-pitying," she said.

Anthony took in her strong features and manners, intrigued with the woman before him moreso than any woman he had ever encountered in his life. He held out his hand and she slipped her gloved one around his for a firm handshake. Yes, he was quite interested in this young lady.

"I do believe I should be the most grateful of all, Miss Sheffield. Most grateful indeed."

Rushing from the chapel and towards an awaiting carriage, Colin and Penelope were to be whisked away to their honeymoon at Aubrey Hall. Colin would have to sort out the purchase of their own household and all adjacent necessities soon, but it could wait for the time being. Extending his hand to his new wife, Colin assisted his wife in stepping up into the cart before settling beside her on the leather seat. The driver roused the horse into action, and the two were on their way to Hastings House where they would be presented.

The whole thing seemed like a fever dream. Penelope could only stare at the new jewelry on her ring finger: a new silver band set with the most stunning deep green emerald surrounded by tiny little diamonds and pearls. It was the most perfect thing she had ever owned. Especially since it was a symbol of the vow she made to the man sitting next to her, the one man in the world she loved dearer than any other.

"Pen," Colin said quietly.

Penelope, more nervous than she had been in her life before, slowly looked over at him. His eyes were soft, gazing at her like one of the wonders of the world. His cheeks were flushed a rosy pink and his breath came in shorter paces than it should have.

"I must know what you are thinking. I meant it when I said that I had nothing to do with this, you must know that. I… I will not lie and say that I would not trade marrying you for the world, but you have to know that I did not plan this. In fact, I'm not even quite sure how Anthony pulled this off. But I'm damn glad he did," he said.

"I believe you, I do. I'm also curious as to how Anthony managed to arrange this. I almost hesitate to ask, for fear that this reality may shatter into pieces," Penelope said.

Colin reached for her hand and held it to his lips, looking deep into her eyes.

"There is nothing that could be done to tear us apart now. I won't let it happen. Unless you asked me to leave and couldn't stand the sight of me, you'll simply be stuck with me for the rest of your life."

Tears blurring her vision, Pen pressed her cheek into his arm and gave a short laugh.

"And why, dear sir, would I ever feel such a way? Are you planning to pursue another one of my cousins?"

Colin made a ghastly sound, reaching for her hand and bringing it to his mouth. He pressed a firm kiss against her knuckles.

"Pen, I can't apologize enough. Finding out you were going to be married… I can only imagine the heartbreak and disappointment I have caused you with my moronic actions. The feeling of my stomach dropping out of my ass would certainly feel more pleasant. I wish I could go back and hit myself, but I suppose I'll have to find a way to make it up to you instead."

Pen gave a little laugh through her tears and pressed her cheek into his arm.

"It's certainly fortunate then that you've got the rest of our lives to do it," She said.

Colin shook his head and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

"You're far too good-natured, my love."

"Far from it," she laughed. "I may be beautiful and intelligent and amiable, but I am certainly too witty to be truly good-natured."

She looked up coyly to solidify her teasing, but her breath was stolen by the way Colin was staring at her. His eyes seemed to reflect every bit of mad love she had felt all these years. The heat and wildness set her heart racing. A blush rose in her cheeks and raced down to her chest.

"You're everything and more, Pen," Colin whispered.

The two slowly leaned in, hardly daring to breathe. Inches from his face, she couldn't help but say,

"That's Mrs. Bridgerton to you."

A wide smile broke out across Colin's face and he swooped into to kiss her deeply.