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* London, a few days before Christmas *

The crowded department store looked the same as every other store the week before Christmas. Crowds of holiday shoppers pushed their way up and down aisles that glittered with festive decorations, debating over each item in an attempt to find that perfect gift, and bombarding the exhausted store employees with questions when their attempts failed.

And somewhere in the middle of all this holiday chaos, Colin Bridgerton had lost his wife.

Not finding her in the sea of holiday shoppers that surrounded him was baffling. How was this possible when she stuck out in every crowd? With long, fiery red curls and alabaster skin peeking out under a ridiculous yellow woolen hat that didn't deserve to be called a hat. It had more holes than knitted loops, loose threads poking out in every direction.

But Penelope had been more than appreciative of his attempt to knit something for her Christmas gift last year after he had been challenged by his younger sister, Hyacinth. She had bet an entire month's allowance that he wouldn't be able to deal with arts and crafts. She was tired of all of her brothers – and there were four of them, no less – acting all manly and presumptuous when it came to getting the women in their lives presents. They would simply whip out their credit cards and buy flowers and an exquisite piece of clothing, all the while side-eyeing Hy and her girlish homemade arts projects wrapped in elaborate, homemade wrapping paper (like, seriously, Hy?).

Anthony, Benedict, and Gregory had scoffed at Hyacinth's dare, but Colin? His ego had been seriously bruised in typical Bridgerton style. After all, his father had once taught him that there was nothing a Bridgerton man could not do. A motto that Colin had decided to stand by no matter the cost. No matter the ridicule it brought along. And so, he had roped his brothers into attending an evening knitting class at the local adult education center with Hy. While Ant, Ben, and Greg one by one had dropped out of class with moronic excuses (a sprained wrist, a wool allergy, a more interesting crochet class across town), Colin had stood his ground, put on a brave face, and got himself a stronger prescription for glasses in order for him to win Hy's bet. Damn those ridiculous, fiddly knitting needles…

When the class was finished, he had managed to somehow fabricate (knit was kind of embellishing it) a yellow wool hat for Penelope – even though it ended up looking like a runny fried egg on top of her head. Penelope, however, cried happy tears when he presented it to her for her birthday and had since worn it with pride.

Penelope's gratitude and loyalty lifted Colin's spirits, even when presented with such a silly gift. Anyway, there was nothing that could ever diminish her beauty, no matter how ridiculous He continued to support her choice of headgear and never even came close to making any yolk jokes.

But now there was no yellow hat to be seen. Part of him wanted to march right up to the information desk to have them page Mrs. Penelope Bridgerton just so he'd have an opportunity to hear her full name booming over the department store speaker system. That way everyone would be able to hear and know that she belonged with him. But he refrained. Penelope would be deeply mortified to be called out like a lost toddler at IKEA, and they had only been separated for a few minutes after all.

He scanned through the crowd thoroughly once more until he finally spotted her petite form a few aisles back, crouched down looking at a display of Christmas ornaments. He edged his way through the crowd until he was standing next to her. "Pen?"

She straightened, staring lovingly at the small ornament she held in her hand. With her other hand, she reached for him. "Kind of unbelievable, isn't it?" she asked, still gazing at the ornament.

"What is?" he asked softly, also looking down at it.

"That next year, we'll have one of these on our tree." She sighed, then placed the delicate glass ball inscribed with the phrase "Baby's First Christmas" back on the display.

"Yeah," he said, still looking at the ornament. "It's amazing to think that next year at this time, we'll be parents." He smiled down at Penelope.

She smiled back, still lost in her own thoughts for a moment, then said, "Speaking of parents, I was thinking …"

"What?" he asked, still smiling.

"Well, maybe it's time to tell everybody about the baby. It would be the perfect time, with all of us together for Christmas. And it's not going to be long before they'll be able to figure it out for themselves. I'm just really glad they didn't have enough time to visit us in the past couple of weeks with my constant nausea and vomiting."

Colin leaned down to pat her stomach reverently. "I'm so relieved you're feeling better now. Those two months were tough for me, too, you know. Not being able to eat anything fried or having to dispose of all my prized cheese samples from the market because the smell made you run for your life."

"Can't say I miss your stinky cheese leftovers in our refrigerator, Colin. Even though I'm feeling better now, they're quite the challenge for everyone's sense of smell, pregnant or not."

"I solemnly swear that from this day forward I'm going to put my stinky cheese leftovers in those plastic containers your mother gave us as her wedding present. They've got to be good for something, those blasted ugly orange boxes."

Penelope ignored his snide remark about her mother's obvious lack of taste in home goods and brought his attention back to her face by gently guiding his chin with her hand. "Yes, she might have a very questionable taste in hardware, but she has one thing in common with your own mother. She's a doting grandma – astonishingly enough. And you know who's going to spend Christmas time bonding with Violet as they work out who gets to buy the stroller and who pays for the crib?"

Slowly, the realization set in and all Colin could do to react was grin mischievously.

"No hovering over us like we need chaperoning in her house. No hoarding my attention because Philippa and Prudence both moved too far away with their kids," Penelope continued to warm him up to her ideas. "What do you say?"

"I think … it'll be some Christmas present," he replied, seemingly pensive.

"I'm glad you see it that way, because I already thought of something …" she said, blinking her baby-blue eyes up at him. "We need to make the announcement extra special, since it's not the first Bridgerton grandchild. Your older brothers and Daphne have already gone over the top with their baby news, and I want us to make a splash, too."

"Mrs. Bridgerton, I love your competitiveness," Colin said as he placed a small kiss on her forehead, carefully making sure her yolk-colored hat stayed in perfect position. "There's a new side of you I've never seen."

"Shut up and start thinking. I need your creative mind."

"Pen, I'm a journalist not an ad man. If you want a pregnancy announcement news article style, I'm your man. Other than that, I'm not really that creative."

"That is entirely untrue! You're perfectly creative, especially when I think about our bedroom shenanigans. Or the billion different ways you've managed to lure me to bed when I'm supposed to be working at home. You've been quite resourceful with those. Or else we wouldn't be in this predicament now."

"Shhh, geez! I meant outside of our bedroom, Pen," he whispered, aware of unwanted listeners in their aisle.

"How's this? You've written me beautiful love letters for all my birthdays. You wrote a tearjerker of a wedding vow," Penelope spoke quietly, her eyes shining with joy. "You… Mister... are not allowed to call yourself uncreative. You are good with words, great actually, or you wouldn't have gotten that journalism award two months ago."

"Alright. Let's get these creative juices flowing, then," Colin gave in. "But remember, at my mother's request, we're on a Christmas present budget. No more than twenty pounds."

"Fine. But let's grab a bite to eat first; I'm starving!"

"All right. I can't possibly say no to that." He took her by the hand and started leading her towards the store exit, trying his best to keep out of the way of the throngs of people who might harm his precious entourage.