A/N: HELLO?
Actually, I was supposed to make it on Sunday, but Polin week got away from me, and I thought I wasn't going to make it again, but here I am.
(PS: Quiero agradecer especialmente a Lali. No pude responderle porque es 'guest', pero quiero que sepas que leí tu comentario y me hizo sonreír muchísimo. Muchas gracias!.)
But now... well I'm in a rush—shocker—so much in a rush that I accidentally uploaded this chapter to 'Rules of Propriety' instead. I truly hope no one got the notification for that LMAO (I'm sorry?)
I suppose I will have two comments before we start:
1- This chapter was supposed to be part of the last chapter, but it the feelings between these two parts didn't feel right when put in the same chapter...so I had to make a new one.
And so this chapter started off on the same day as the last chapter.
2- Because this chapter was supposed to be the last chapter, uploading it alone didn't make sense to me, it felt weird. So I decided to upload it with the next chapter. So yes, this is a double update (AGAIN), which is why it took me longer to update (AGAIN).
LET'S GO
Penelope: im filming until late tomorrow night, so I can't
Penelope: im sorry
A Debling: It's fine
…
Penelope: actually i got off work early
Penelope: do you still want to meet?
Penelope: if you can, of course
Penelope: I dont want to impose
A Debling: sure
When Alfred agreed to meet her, even after she had essentially blown him off, Penelope knew she had truly been going about life all wrong. Because it should be that simple, shouldn't it? Having someone genuinely interested in her, without any doubts or drama.
In the end, Debling took her to a somewhat tranquil establishment featuring a lovely balcony adorned with rubber plants and providing a night view of Auckland's skyline, where the buildings and streets sparkled with vibrant, colourful lights. They sat at a small wooden table, illuminated by flickering candlelight, sipping elaborate cocktails that complemented their overpriced salads. The YouTuber despised meat, and Penelope felt embarrassed to eat something as crude as a burger in front of him.
He spoke at length about his trip to Australia, his visit to Vanuatu, and all the things he would miss about New Zealand. The actress smiled and nodded, doing her utmost to remain as interested in his adventures as she had always been, even if her mind kept drifting back to the events of the previous 24 hours.
Penelope then shared a bit about her routine on set—everything she was allowed to divulge, at least—resenting the fact that she couldn't even accuse him of being inattentive, as he always smiled and asked her a few questions about her stories. Then he touched her thigh, and she felt instantly strange, as if she didn't hate it and shouldn't hate it, but she didn't love it either. As if he wasn't Colin.
Somehow, that made her angry with herself because she was tired of walking in circles. If she spent her entire life daydreaming about the rare instances when Colin had touched her as more than a friend, she would end up alone. So, she leaned towards Debling instead, smiling as she grabbed his arm while he talked about all the locations he planned on visiting in Chile, or maybe Peru, or Brazil - she actually wasn't sure.
And then, he kissed her.
Just like that, as if she hadn't spent years struggling to attract a man, as if she hadn't dragged Colin into a scheme that would haunt her for the rest of her life due to her own incompetence.
But before she could even understand what she was doing, she pulled away immediately, causing him to wince, his forehead creased with regret.
"I'm sorry, Penelope, I thought—"
"No, it's fine," she replied, puzzled about why she had felt surprised at all. After all, she had followed all the steps Colin had given her, read all of the signs, she knew what she was doing.
Penelope.
But perhaps it was the way he spoke her name that affected her, as if the weight of the day was finally settling on her shoulders. She couldn't help but recall every time Colin called her Pen (never Penelope) and every kiss that felt completely different from the feelings she had experienced just seconds before.
"Actually," she said, looking at her empty dessert plate, her throat tightening. "I'm not fine. I just... I need a minute." She got up suddenly, causing her chair to scrape against the floor, and swiftly left the balcony, leaving the YouTuber bewildered.
The last thing she remembered was crossing the bar, descending the stairs, and walking straight into the cold streets. And there, against a backdrop of night lights and a few drunken pedestrians, Penelope allowed herself to release the bubbling anguish she had been holding inside. Covering her face with her hands, she cried.
Her shoulders shook, and she placed a hand on her chest, trying to regain control of her emotions but failing spectacularly after keeping them inside for so long. The drunken group watched her in confusion, and she couldn't blame them—she didn't understand herself either. She had just finished filming one of the most challenging scenes of her career, and she had genuinely been desired by a man, a man she thought was handsome, no less.
Yet, everything felt completely out of place.
She ran a hand through her hair, contemplating the absurd irony of the situation. Lately, whenever things didn't make sense, Colin was the person she would turn to. But that wasn't an option now, was it?
Still, Penelope found herself reaching for her phone, seeking the one number that could assist her—the one contact she had repeatedly considered in times of trouble yet still hesitated to call.
"Hello?"
"El?"
"Pen?" Eloise's voice came through, laced with alarm. "Is everything alright? What's going on?"
Penelope felt like laughing because, of course, Eloise would know something was amiss straight away just by the tone of her voice. Apparently, even the years apart couldn't strip her of that superpower, a trait she shared with her brother.
Swallowing hard, the actress clutched her own arm, her mobile phone gripped in her hand, her nails digging into her skin as she asked, "Are you... are you busy?"
"No, of course not," the other woman probably lied. It was around 9 a.m. in London, and Penelope could hear the bustling of people in the background, but her situation was too desperate for her to care.
"You said I could call if I needed to..." the redhead trailed off, listening to a loud honk on the other end, followed by Eloise cursing at someone before her voice returned to the line.
"Yes, Pen, of course," she replied, her voice betraying her surprise that her former friend had genuinely taken to heart the words she had spoken at the airport months earlier.
"It's just...," Penelope pressed her lips together. "I need to ask you something, and you have to promise me you won't ask why."
As there was silence on the other end, Penelope could swear she saw the Bridgerton girl pausing in the street, her brows knitting in confusion.
"All right," Eloise agreed, and the other girl knew it was solely because her ex-best friend owed her, considering all the pain she had inflicted; otherwise, she would have been unleashing a torrent of questions.
The redhead squeezed her eyes shut before asking, "How... how was your first kiss?"
More silence.
"My what?"
Penelope glanced at the group of drunken men nearby, as if they could hear her and judge her choice of conversation despite their intoxicated state.
Through gritted teeth, she repeated, "Your first kiss."
"Yes, I heard you the first time," the other woman responded, and the actress contemplated killing her.
"Um... it was... unremarkable, really," Eloise finally answered in her typical uninterested fashion. "I thought you knew the story; it was with Theo, remember?"
The redhead furrowed her eyebrows; she had no recollection of the story. "From year nine?" she asked.
Eloise hummed in agreement. "Cold hands, dry lips. We were working on that dreadful literature project, and he just kissed me out of nowhere. I slapped him right after."
A chuckle escaped Penelope's lips despite her troubling emotions. It was amusing how consistently Eloise was—well, Eloise. "I thought you liked him," she replied, humour lacing her tone.
"I did," the brunette retorted, as if it were obvious. "I kissed him again right after."
Penelope laughed harder. At times, she couldn't help but acknowledge how much she missed her former best friend.
"But um." The actress cleared her throat, trying to sober up and steer the conversation back to its purpose. "How did it make you feel?"
"How did it make me feel?" Eloise echoed, confused. "Pen, what—" She paused, almost as if picturing Penelope holding her hands up to signal her not to ask questions. "Forget it." She then coughed lightly and continued, "It made me feel... okay, I suppose," she replied in her entirely clinical tone.
This was the reason she was the only Bridgerton not particularly adept in the arts. It was the same aspect of Eloise that had always complemented Penelope. While Penelope was emotional, fearful, and unrealistic, Eloise was clinical, brave, and practical.
But the strange thing this time was that Penelope could actually relate to her in that moment.
"I know you and my brothers love films, but life isn't like that," Eloise continued, almost as if she could read the redhead's mind. "So, it was as uninteresting and fast as a first kiss usually is. I mean, how was yours?"
Penelope froze, grateful that oceans separated them at that moment and that Eloise couldn't see her expression.
"Pen?" Eloise asked after a prolonged silence on the other end of the line, as her friend was suddenly engulfed by unwanted memories—Colin's mouth on hers, the sound of her back hitting the ground as he kissed her once more.
The actress then cleared her throat, trying to remember her kiss with the first man who had genuinely shown interest in her instead—the one piece of the puzzle she desperately needed to understand.
"It was... fine," she replied. Not terrible, not great, just fine.
"Yeah, exactly," Eloise responded. "Sometimes it just is what it is."
"Right," Penelope replied, furrowing her eyebrows. She figured that at least there wasn't something inherently wrong with her. "And when..." she trailed off, knowing it would only confuse the other woman further. "When did it get better for you?"
"Get better?" she asked, her voice raised as if she needed to understand the question properly, which made Penelope blush as though anyone could overhear that ridiculous conversation.
"Yeah, when was it more than just okay?" Penelope asked.
There was another pause on the other line, but this time Penelope couldn't tell if it was confusion or something else.
"It still is sometimes," Eloise finally admitted. "Just okay, that is. But it depends on who the other person is and whether they know what they're doing."
Oh, that made sense, Penelope thought, raising her eyebrows. For the first time, she felt a glimmer of hope that maybe the apathy or even disgust she often felt toward others wouldn't last. Perhaps she wasn't stuck in this endless cycle because of her unresolved feelings for Colin; she simply needed to give herself and her potential future partner some time.
"Thanks, El," she said sincerely.
"I hope you know how much effort it took for me not to ask," Eloise replied, and Penelope laughed. "I think I'm actually sweating."
Penelope smiled. "It's probably just the warm weather, I'm sure."
"Uh-huh," Eloise said, and then after a pause, she asked, "See you when you're back in London?"
Eloise still hadn't given up on trying to amend things, Penelope figured. Yet, deep down, the actress knew that if she had called her former friend, then neither had she.
"I'll see you."
When Penelope returned to the bar, she had made a decision. Astonishingly, Alfred was still there, despite the spectacle she had made, which would likely send most running.
"I sincerely apologise," he said as she sat down beside him once more. "I misunderstood you and—"
"No," Penelope said, shaking her head as she took his hand. "I just... I had a really emotionally charged day on set," she explained, summoning the courage to look into his light blue eyes, so he'd know she was serious. "So sometimes it's hard to let go and just be myself."
"De-roling, you mean?" he asked, a small rueful smile on his lips.
The woman pressed her lips together into a strained smile, as if she appreciated the gesture of him knowing some of their little acting jargon, even if it wasn't entirely accurate for her situation. Not through any fault of his own, of course, since Penelope knew the problem stemmed far more from her inability to take Nora out of herself; in fact, if anything, it was Penelope who had brought her problems to Nora.
"Something like that," she mumbled, twisting her lips slightly as she forced herself to be honest. "But you didn't misunderstand anything. I enjoy being around you, Alfred," she said, her fingers nervously tracing the rim of her glass. "I just fear that this movie, this entire saga, is really taking a toll on me. I barely have free time, and when I'm filming, I..."
When she was filming, she was with Colin all the time, and the fact was that she didn't know how to maintain an honest relationship with anyone if she was in his presence every day, falling for him instead. It didn't feel fair to anyone involved, but that was just how it was until the movie ended. Until those movies ended.
"But I don't mean this as an excuse to blow you off," Penelope quickly added, turning to him as she realised how she might have sounded. "I want... I want to know you better. I want this. But I need to be honest about..."
"I understand," Alfred replied with surprising calm. He then looked down at the table, fiddling with a torn napkin. "My schedule isn't exactly ideal, as you might have noticed. I'm constantly travelling—married to all my adventures," he said with a wistful smile. "I can't always be around either. Not yet, at least."
Penelope then nodded, uncertain of how she felt about those sentences; whether she was disappointed that he couldn't always be around, or hopeful because of the yet. Somehow, all she could feel was relief at the weight being lifted from her confused shoulders.
He turned to her and asked, "So why don't we take things slow for now? I'm not asking to date you. I'm asking to see you once in a while, when and if both of us are free. Sounds alright?"
Penelope smiled, feeling a sense of relief. She nodded, and he smiled back at her.
When she returned home—or rather, to the trailer she had been living in for so long that it felt like home—Colin wasn't there waiting for her, even though he had been trying to talk to her all day. She told herself she was glad that her tactics had finally worked. She convinced herself that his decision to drop the idea of discussing their situation would allow things to return to a semblance of normalcy. And that now, everything was finally alright.
Then, when she got inside, her phone rang.
"Cut!"
Colin ran a hand through his hair and gazed down at his boots as he exhaled loudly. If he were honest, this was likely the first time in his career that he realized he might not be able to do it. He couldn't be further from Leonidas, from the set, from that cursed film, from all of it.
"Cressida's armies are moving south," Anthony said, reminding his brother of yet another line he had missed.
The actor placed his hands on his hips and nodded while Kate and Thomas watched him with growing concern. Ever since he had arrived to film that scene, it was as if he had brought a dark cloud along with him. Anthony also furrowed his brow, equally concerned about Collin's mood, before he called for action again.
"I don't see what other options we have now," Thomas said again as they set up for the new take. He looked between Kate and Colin, who stood in a semicircle near the edge of the woods, the flickering torchlight highlighting Kate's thoughtful expression and Colin's permanently clenched jaw.
"Cressida's armies are moving south," Colin said. "The way I see it, it's the only direction to go."
From behind the camera, Anthony frowned. The issue was that Colin sounded far too much like—well, Colin. Having watched the younger Bridgerton portray Leonidas for years at that point, the director knew it wasn't a matter of skill. In fact, he was certain that no one else could play Leonidas but his brother. No, the problem was something else entirely.
"It's a suicide mission," Kate whispered.
Colin bit his bottom lip and shook his head. "It doesn't matter," he said. "I—I left her once and I'm not planning on doing it again."
Anthony sighed in relief at the successful delivery, while Kate paused, as if Marjorie were pondering Leonidas' words. Thomas looked at both of his co-stars as though Dorieus believed they had lost their minds.
"What good are you both to Nora if you're dead?" he asked. "Leo, we need to go back home and gather our forces." At that point, Colin was supposed to be shaking his head, but he hadn't. "There's no use in going after her like this."
"And... how long until we gather our forces?" the other man trailed off, his voice distant and curious rather than sarcastic and urgent.
Anthony sighed. "Cut," he called, almost startling the trio. He then stood up, looked at his brother, and said, "Colin," while gesturing for him to approach.
The actor pressed his lips together, his jaw tightly clenched, as he followed the director to a spot on the right where they wouldn't be overheard, though they would still be watched by curious glances from afar.
When they finally stopped, Anthony placed his hands on his hips and assessed Colin from head to toe for the second time that evening. Once again, his younger sibling avoided his gaze, staring at the grass beneath his feet as though it held some sort of untold mystery.
"Are you alright?"
The question was shocking enough for Colin to lift his head and stare at Anthony in surprise. In his adult life, he could count on one hand the number of times his older brother had asked him that, stern and obvious as he always was. Not that Colin didn't have his share of blame, determined as he was to keep all his weaknesses and vulnerabilities buried deep where they belonged.
That was precisely why hearing that question from Anthony, of all people, was so alarming.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Colin replied, furrowing his eyebrows as he met his brother's gaze.
Anthony observed him, as if he didn't believe any of it. Exhaling loudly, he took a step closer, locking his brown eyes onto Colin's. "Because if you aren't, we can reschedule the scene—"
"Reschedule?" Colin asked, tilting his head back and staring at Anthony as if he couldn't recognise the man in front of him.
Unfazed, the director bit his bottom lip and said, "It wouldn't be the first time." He had done it for Kate, and he would do it for his brother too, in the blink of an eye. "So if you tell me—"
"Anthony, I'm fine," the other Bridgerton answered, emphasising his words and widening his eyes as if his brother was being absurd. With that, he walked back to Kate and Thomas without another word, leaving the director behind to watch him go.
And, the thing was, Anthony could be blind to many things in life, but he knew Colin, and he knew when his brother was most certainly not fine.
"You know, I've never taken the time to truly watch the stars."
"Why doesn't that surprise me?"
Kate sent him a glare, sitting up but still keeping her feet on his lap. She bent her knees, getting closer to him as she scanned their surroundings before refocusing on the Southern Cross constellation.
Anthony had somehow managed, or likely enlisted help, to drag a couch to a more secluded spot in an open field near the edge of the woods. A couch, by the way, that looked a lot like the one she had seen abandoned by the camera crew's trailer. In front of them was a small table adorned with a few snacks and a candle flickering in the middle. He had even brought along a blanket, which seemed unnecessary given that the weather was warming up. All of this was because she had once commented that it would be lovely to simply sit outside and enjoy the fresh air for a change.
She narrowed her eyes at his profile as he continued to look ahead, undeterred by the fact that he had now started massaging her right foot.
"She told you, didn't she?" Kate asked.
He did not look at her, but his massage suddenly stopped. Bingo.
"Who told me what?" Anthony asked, trying to sound nonchalant, a skill Kate had learned he lacked after months of being together.
She raised one eyebrow. "Edwina."
"What about her?" he asked, staring at the grass as if it were fascinating, while Kate felt an urge to roll her eyes.
The actress bit her bottom lip and shook her head, taking a deep breath before saying something she dreaded. "She told you it's my amma's death anniversary today."
The director kept his gaze straight ahead, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue, all while his hand remained around her feet, spreading warmth to her skin. If Kate needed any confirmation, that was it.
Huffing, the actress said, "She didn't have to."
"Of course she did." Finally, he turned to her, dropping any pretense of ignorance about the day's significance.
Under the honesty of his brown eyes, Kate grimaced, looking down at her lap and shaking her head, as if he were being ridiculous.
"Kate, I know exactly how this feels," he said, keeping his gaze focused on the top of her head, even though she refused to meet his eyes. "You think I don't understand what you're going through?"
A nightmare. These days were nothing but bad memories and a deep sense of emptiness where that one person used to be. Still, she sniffled slightly and looked up at him. "It's been so long; I'm just used to it by now," she said, averting her gaze once more.
He watched her patiently, knowing well how that woman looked when she downplayed something that was actually important to her. And while he could definitely relate—having done the same essentially all his life—that was a look he absolutely detested on her.
"Kate," he called, and even though she didn't look at him, he knew she was listening.
She bit her lip, trying to contain her feelings, because that was how she had learned to be.
"Do you wish to hear something funny?" she asked. He tilted his head in confusion at her sudden mood shift but scooted closer, as if he could hear her better that way.
"All my life, I've been hearing the same thing." She swallowed hard, trying to keep any tears at bay. "People would come up to me in all kinds of situations, whether it was any kind of stress at work or even when I was still a young girl and my mother…" she trailed off, unable to say the words, but Anthony nodded, understanding anyway. "They would tell me how strong I was and say they were envious of me for it, admiring my resilience as if nothing could shake me. Part of me felt proud of that—to not let things affect me, to not need anyone to help me or dry my tears when I cried. I could take it, I could handle... anything."
Glancing at Anthony for a moment, she noticed the understanding in his gaze, then looked away, biting her lip again. "But there are days when I'm just… tired. I don't want to be expected to handle everything. I don't want to be the strong one."
She let out a deep, shaky breath, as if she had been holding that anguish in for a long time.
"You don't have to be strong all the time," he said, and as she looked up at him, he continued, "not with me."
His words pierced through the cracks in her walls like an arrow. It was as if she had been waiting for someone to tell her that, and she nodded, her eyes welling up. Soon after, Anthony traced his index finger along her right and left cheeks, wiping away the tears before tenderly cradling the side of her face with his hand.
Searching her eyes, he asked, "Deal?"
That somehow elicited a chuckle from her, and she pressed her lips into a small smile. "Deal," she replied.
Anthony nodded, satisfied with her reply, and leaned back against the sofa, able to relax for a moment. He glanced down at her feet resting on his lap, but his mind seemed to wander miles away as he shook his head and smiled exasperatedly.
"What is it?" she asked, curious.
He turned his head towards her and shook it lightly. "Nothing... you reminded me of someone just now."
"Someone?" she said, raising an eyebrow.
He let out a soft laugh before looking ahead again. "Yeah," he paused, "Colin."
Now Kate was completely confused. "Colin?"
The corner of Anthony's lips curled up briefly as he nodded. Absentmindedly, he started massaging her feet again and said, "I don't know if I ever told you this, but growing up, Colin was by far the most emotional out of all of us."
Kate's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "Colin? As in Colin Bridgerton?" she asked, as if the man had somehow mentioned the wrong name.
The director chuckled and nodded. "It was really curious how sensitive he was, especially as a kid. Even as a teenager, he'd sometimes come home with tears in his eyes over a school paper that didn't go well, or, of course, if his girlfriend at the time had broken his heart."
Kate's jaw dropped in shock as Anthony continued. "But there was a period when..." He took a deep breath and bit his lip, as if gathering the strength to tell the story properly. "When our father passed away." He paused again, taking a breath while Kate waited. "I was with him—my father," he clarified, and she nodded. Then he returned his gaze to the open field and the dark trees ahead, reminiscing. "Benedict was out with his friends, and as soon as he heard, he rushed to the hospital to see our mother because of..."
"Hyacinth," Kate completed for him, and he acknowledged her with a grateful look.
"But Colin..." he paused, letting his hands rest on her ankles. "He was at home with all our younger siblings. He was the oldest of them there."
The actress furrowed her eyebrows, not knowing any of the details of that story.
"The thing about children is that, depending on their age, they often only understand part of what's happening. Sometimes that ignorance can be bliss, truly," he said, sighing wearily, somehow envious. "But Colin was ten. He understood what was happening pretty well. Better than Eloise, Daphne, or even Penelope."
"Penelope? She was at the house?" Kate asked, feeling foolish for being shocked by such an unimportant yet still mind-blowing detail.
Anthony pursed his lips and nodded. "And even though we had a nanny around that day, Colin was still... the big brother, you know?" He looked at Kate, knowing she would understand. "He had to put on a brave face and calm down all our sisters, even though he understood exactly what had happened." Kate bit her bottom lip and scooted closer as he continued.
"It changed him a little at that time," he said, furrowing his eyebrows as he distractedly played with the hem of her pants. "It was as if, after that, in the months that followed, he somehow felt the need to step up as a big brother for them, the little man of the house," he said with a hint of humour and fondness in his voice, recalling his brother's attempts to act mature, "that rock that would stay steady even when everything else was falling apart."
The director swallowed hard, looking down as he fiddled with a loose thread on her pants. "And he didn't... he didn't allow anyone to see him shed a tear during that time," he explained. "He held it all in for the girls, even for Gregory." Kate tilted her head, noticing how Anthony's voice was growing sadder by the minute. "But I wasn't one of the girls. I saw it. Every time he wanted to cry."
He grimaced slightly before his lips curled into a sort of painful smile. "It was the most curious thing; he would scrunch his nose," he pointed to his own nose for emphasis, "and then look down. Every single time he wanted to cry but held it back, he would do this instead." Glancing at Kate, his eyes slightly shiny, as if he, too, wanted to cry. "Every time I saw him do that, I would wait until nightfall, when it was time to tuck him in—something I had been doing for months since… well, since my mother was too out of it to even get out of bed." He cleared his throat and continued, "I would sit next to him so we could have a conversation, man-to-man," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice, earning a bittersweet smile from Kate. "I'd ask him directly if everything was alright, and every time, he'd just look down at his sheets and say, 'I'm fine, Tony.'" He looked at her and added, "That's how he used to call me."
Kate chuckled, but Anthony continued, "I didn't believe him, of course. So I would just give him a tight hug, hold his head, and say, 'Colin, you don't have to be so strong. It's alright.' Somehow, that opened his floodgates, and he would cry against my shoulder. It was the only place where he allowed himself to cry." His gaze fell to his hands, where he fiddled with his fingers, and his demeanour became more subdued. "He was just a kid. It was too much for him to handle."
Nodding, Kate's heart clenched at the story. As she watched Anthony's gaze grow wetter with the memory, she couldn't help but wonder where the eldest Bridgerton allowed himself to cry during that time, if he ever did.
Reaching for a stray strand of his hair, she brushed it away from his face and tenderly tucked it behind his ear. "You don't have to be that strong either," she whispered. He looked at her, and she gave him a meaningful glance as she repeated, "Not with me."
Anthony let out a tearful chuckle, grasped her hand, and kissed it. He nodded at her, and she wiped away a tear that had fallen on his cheek before resting her forehead against his.
Something peculiar was unfolding on the set of The Sword and the Heart.
Thomas furrowed his brow upon noticing the circle formation they had gathered in, listening intently to Anthony. The director, as usual, went on about the upcoming scene, his gaze shifting between them as they stood by a fake balcony structure made of beige blocks, some of which were torn apart. Normally, this wouldn't be unusual for a filming day, except for the fact that Kate stood unusually close to him, taking in his instructions with a focus and sincerity that felt strange. Then there were Colin and Penelope.
Perhaps he was crazy, but he was so accustomed to seeing the duo stuck together that when someone was between them—Cressida, that was—it felt just bizarre.
"We can't afford to be out of sync because of the background action," Anthony said as the extras slid into their marks all around them. "Cressida, keep in mind that this scene is before your reveal, so you need to embody the innocent, young maiden vibe. Don't let any of Catherine's true nature slip through in your expressions here," he warned her, aware that even when they shot the scenes in order, she had a tendency to let a sly Catherine peek through—even worse when the timeline was all over the place.
"Kate will go first," Anthony said, turning to the actress. He instinctively placed his hands on her shoulders to position her in front of the group, and she didn't even bat an eye. "You'll be sword fighting with one hand," he explained, gesturing to the right with his arm. "With your other hand, you'll need to get onto the balcony." As she nodded, he fixed her with a look and added, "Just be careful."
Thomas wasn't sure if he was hallucinating, but he could have sworn the corners of her lips twitched up before returning to normal. She then tilted her head at him and said, "I'll be fine."
Then the director turned to Thomas and Cressida. "Now, you two," he said, motioning for the actress to stand next to the actor. As the blonde complied and abruptly left an empty space between Colin and Penelope, they glanced at each other for a moment, trying to assess the distance between them so they could lean in again and listen to Anthony. They adjusted their stances slightly to avoid being too close to each other, and Thomas furrowed his eyebrows at the oddity.
"You need to pay attention to Kate," he said, gesturing towards the woman in question before refocusing on them. "When she gets up on the balcony, the two of you will be more visible to the camera, showing Dorieus protecting Catherine by standing in front of her."
Thomas stood with his back against Cressida, spreading his hands out, and the director nodded in approval before continuing. "You hold that position until Kate goes up. Then Catherine will also jump onto the balcony. You'll do a turn so the camera can see your face, and then follow her once she steps back so she doesn't block you from the camera either.
Cressida then gracefully hopped onto the balcony, closely followed by Thomas. Once they arrived at their destination, they took a moment to brush stray hairs from their faces.
"Perfect," Anthony said before walking towards the final pair. "Once Thomas and Cressida clear the shot, then it's your turn," he said, and the two silently nodded. "Leonidas will also be sword-fighting, and Nora will be behind him, so he'll turn around and help her up the balcony. The camera will focus on the profile of both of you, so face her before Leonidas lifts Nora. Then we'll cut the scene and Marcus will lift her up."
It was amazing how a single, simple line could make Colin uncomfortable in about a dozen different ways. For one, as he read the script, he automatically assumed he was the one doing the stunt, considering how simple it was. Secondly, he felt a prickly wave of discomfort at the thought of someone lifting Penelope like that, even if it was his stuntman.
"Why do we need Marcus for this?" Colin asked. "I can lift Pen."
Anthony stared at him impatiently. "You can't just perform a manoeuvre without practicing," he replied.
"Manoeuvre? It's just a ten-second scene. Thomas and I lift weights all the time during our physical training," he said, nodding toward the actor, who was unsure whether to respond with a nod or a shake of his head, simply wishing he could vanish from the situation altogether.
"Carrying a person is a lot different from weightlifting," Anthony shot back.
"Anthony is right," Kate added. "Colin, there are safety protocols for situations like this."
Thomas widened his eyes, leaning toward Cressida, and whispering, "Did I just hear Kate utter the words, 'Anthony is right'?"
With an eyebrow raised, Cressida shrugged at him as Colin rolled his eyes at the director and his new ally.
"Exactly," Anthony continued, with the duo resembling stubborn parents glaring at the younger Bridgerton. "You need to worry about your back."
Colin huffed, barely listening to his brother. He turned to the woman beside him. "Excuse me, Pen," he said. She had only a second to furrow her eyebrows in confusion before he lifted her off the ground, her shrieks filling the air.
She knew Colin was strong, but never in her wildest dreams had she imagined he could lift her as if she were made of paper. The moment he settled her onto the balcony, Penelope's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing wildly. Her eyes locked onto his hands, fingers wrapped firmly around her thighs, his touch sending a jolt of electricity coursing through her skin, while her breaths escaped in uneven gasps. Colin's gaze also drifted to his palms on her legs, breathing heavier as if he were exerting himself more now than moments earlier.
"Fine," interrupted Anthony, "just… do it faster than that," he explained, confused at their interpretation of the scene, while everyone else stared at the duo with raised eyebrows. He cleared his throat and stated, "Okay, so filming will happen quicker than expected," the director announced. "Once we finish this scene, everyone can take a five-minute break," he continued, glancing at Penelope and adding, "and then we can have that meeting," which earned him a puzzled look from Colin.
After her meeting with Anthony and her call to Agatha, Penelope finally exhaled. It felt as though everything had been sorted out, so she didn't understand why she felt so unsettled instead of relieved.
That was when a knock sounded at her door. And as she opened it, her heart clenched at the familiarity of it all.
"Colin?"
He looked strange in his Leonidas brown doublet and matching pants, with his hair dishevelled and a tired expression on his face. Penelope felt an unexpected and out-of-place urge to give him a hug. The actor then scratched the back of his head and glanced to the side, as if he were just casually there and hadn't knocked on her door.
"Can we talk?" he asked for the third time in the past two days, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked up at her. "Please."
Penelope tightened her grip on the trailer door as she stared at him, fully aware that she had nowhere to escape now. She opened the door wider and nodded, allowing him to enter. As he stepped inside and paused in the middle of the trailer, she felt an odd urge to leave the door ajar, as if she couldn't trust herself to be alone with him. It was a ridiculous thought, since she was sure the times they had spent alone were as many as the grains of sand on the shore. So, she closed the door behind her.
"Um, I know we weren't able to have a conversation yesterday," she said hesitantly, aware that she had deliberately avoided him. "But, Colin, I told you before, we're fin—"
"I know," he interrupted, turning to her. His tone was sharp and weary in a way she had rarely witnessed, finally giving her the courage to meet his gaze. He hesitated for a moment, biting his lower lip, his face contorting with discomfort before asking, "Pen…," his voice soft yet filled with pain, "did I do something wrong?"
Her chest clenched immediately; his anguish was so raw that it felt almost like a physical blow. "Of course not," she gasped, walking toward him almost instinctively.
His face twitched in pain, as if he didn't believe her. He looked down at his hands, fiddling with his fingers. "Are you sure?"
"Of course I am," she replied, her confidence growing stronger as guilt washed over her. All the time she had spent running from him, convinced he would sense her irrational emotions, had only made him feel like he had done something wrong. In reality, he had been nothing but wonderful.
"I have this feeling that you've been avoiding me since yesterday. Well, except when…" His blue eyes locked onto hers as he trailed off, leaving unspoken the part about when they were filming, which involved them snogging. Repeatedly.
Penelope felt her cheeks burn, and maybe she was crazy, but she could have sworn she saw his face turn red too.
"I'm sorry," she said, biting her bottom lip and averting her gaze, realising that there was no point in lying. "I… I was avoiding you. I don't know why... I just... I was scared things would become awkward between us."
Colin watched her, normally able to calm her worries, but this time, he couldn't help the grimace that crossed his features. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. It was normal to worry about such things in a friendship, but the truth was, he wanted things to become awkward; he didn't want their friendship to return to what it had been before.
"And I feel like it's all my fault," Penelope continued, running her hand through her hair in frustration. "I'm the one who asked you to help me. I'm the one who started all of this."
"Pen, I told you from the beginning, it's fine," he interrupted her before she could voice any more regrets about the situation, which he wasn't ready to handle at that moment.
"I know, but that was before," she replied. "It's a whole different issue now that it's after."
It was one thing for him to say everything was fine before they kissed, before she completely lost her composure and all reason in his arms. It was a whole different story now that she couldn't even control herself when she was alone with him; her hands twitched with the urge to reach out and touch him, even at that very moment.
Colin, however, furrowed his brow, feeling uneasy about her insinuation, as if now that he had kissed her, she could read his feelings or anything of the sort. "Pen, if there's anything bothering you, you should just tell me—"
"No," she interrupted him immediately, turning to face him. "What I mean is that I was worried," her blue eyes locked onto his as she forced herself not to look away. "That's all."
He nodded, unsure if he believed her.
"But we're truly fine. I mean it," she insisted. He bit his bottom lip and looked down at his feet, nodding once more. Penelope wrinkled her forehead, confused by his mood. "Or maybe…. there's something else you'd like to talk about?"
He snapped his head up, as if she had caught him by surprise. His mouth momentarily opened, but then his blue eyes quickly darted from her face to the object that had captured his attention the moment he walked into her trailer. Clearing his throat, he said, "No," shaking his head and pressing his lips together. He then scratched the back of his head and gestured behind her, commenting, "Nice flowers."
Penelope blinked, confused by what he was referring to, but then her eyes widened in recognition. She turned around, her gaze landing on the yellow Alstroemerias, which rested in a simple glass vase on her table.
"Yeah, it's some kind of South American flower, Alfred—" she paused, feeling oddly self-conscious talking about it with Colin.
Yet, he seemed to understand her anyway, nodding as he looked down at his feet.
"I'm not sure why yellow, though," she said with a light chuckle, trying to break the awkward silence that she barely understood. "But I suppose my taste isn't the easiest to guess, with—"
"The blue daisies," Colin interrupted, and she turned to look at him. "I know." He then bit his lip and shifted his gaze to the window.
More specifically, Felicity Blue Daisies, which she had discovered during one of the summers she spent at Bridgerton House. She had immediately fallen in love with the flower; it was simple yet unique, which was why Penelope liked it so much.
"Yeah," she replied, staring at him in confusion.
"Anyway, I should get going," Colin said, clearing his throat before meeting her gaze. "I'll never hear the end of it if I make you late for your meeting with Anthony," he added, though he did not understand why they were meeting in the first place.
"Actually, the meeting already happened," she commented absent-mindedly.
Colin wrinkled his forehead. Their break had barely started, and she and Anthony had already talked?
"It wasn't a big deal. I just needed to ask him a big favor, or actually, ask for permission." Colin looked even more puzzled, so she continued, "Mrs Varley called me last night. We've been in talks with Netflix about a rom-com they want to do. With me, I mean."
The actor blinked. That shouldn't be odd, considering Penelope's growing fame. Yet somehow, when they came to New Zealand, it was almost as if they were locked away in their own world, removed from fame, other projects, and all the noise.
"Apparently, the director had a few people in mind, but it didn't work out with the first option. So they reached out to me, because they thought of me. Specifically," she said, twisting her lips into a small smile. "I didn't even need to audition. I never thought this day would come."
Coin's lips formed a grin in response. "It was only a matter of time."
Penelope bit her lip and nodded, having learned not to question Colin's unwavering optimism.
"The only problem is that they start filming really soon, and it was going to clash with our filming schedule. So I needed to talk to Agatha and Anthony to see if they could adjust my schedule a bit," she said.
Colin wrinkled his forehead, his stomach sinking as he realized what she was saying. "Pen, what—"
"I guess it's only a few weeks, but it still was a lot to ask," she continued nervously, while Colin felt a sickening lurch in his gut, a cold dread spreading through him. "But they agreed rather easily. I guess it's not like I'd be filming for much longer than that."
"So you're leaving earlier," he finally said, having understood the implications of her words loud and clear.
It wasn't as if Colin didn't know Penelope would have to return before him this time. Since Nora was kidnapped in the storyline, she naturally had less screen time than she did in the previous two movies. Still, he had grown used to the amount of time he expected to spend with her. After all, loving someone meant always wanting them around, even if they didn't feel the same way.
But it was more than that. Penelope made life on set better. In the past, Colin had become accustomed to being distant and untrusting of his colleagues. With her there, everything changed. He felt free to be himself and able to unwind. He had someone to look forward to meeting and talking to. It felt like a safe haven, a home.
"It's only a few weeks earlier," Penelope said, looking up at him. She noticed his serious expression and felt a strange sense of guilt. "By the time you get back to London, I'll probably be almost done with filming. Everything will go back to normal." She gave him a tight-lipped, reassuring smile, echoing the words her heart desperately wished were true.
That the time apart, much like before, would allow them to move past the awkwardness and for her to let go of the feelings she had while in his arms. When they met again, it would be Penelope and Colin, free from the rollercoaster that Nora and Leonidas had put them through, and everything would truly be just fine.
"Right," he replied, before scrunching his nose and looking down at his feet.
A/N:That is it, I don't have much more comments except let's go to the next one!
But as always, I will GLADLY read all of your comments here. You guys know how much I love discussing things, even if it's taking me a while to reply now because of my wrists. Know that I'm reading and loving them all 3
