Chapter Text
It has been days since Colin has spoken to another human being. Days since anyone has looked him in the eyes or even acknowledged his presence.
He first noticed it the morning after he had returned home from his travels. There was nothing unusual about his arrival – his family had welcomed him with opened arms, and he could not for the life of him understand why they chose to ignore him the next day. They were warm and joyous to see him, and he even managed to catch a glance of Penelope across the street. It calmed his nerves to see that she was well because she had not responded to any of his letters, and Eloise ignored his every inquiry of Penelope’s health in hers.
So, when he left his room to join them in the drawing room after a restful night, he could not understand why they kept acting as if he was not present. His mother kept sipping her tea, attentively reading what he assumed was a new Whistledown, Benedict was sketching, Eloise did not remove her eyes from her book, Francesca was playing the piano, and Gregory teased Hyacinth over her loss in chess.
“Have you broken your fast yet?” Colin asked as his stomach rumbled.
Yet not a single member of his family dignified him with an answer. Colin stared at them, trying to understand what he did wrong. He kept his mother updated on his safety as he travelled, and he had brought them gifts that they loved. He thought that having him home would make them a little happier than this.
“Shall we eat?” Anthony asked as he entered the room with Kate on his arm.
“We were waiting for you,” Violet answered and rose to her feet, “and Colin. He’s not awake yet.”
“I beg your pardon.” Colin said, his eyes fixed on his mother.
“Perhaps we should let him sleep. He must be exhausted.” Kate suggested.
“You’re right. He can eat after he’s fully rested.” His mother agreed.
“Knowing Colin, he’ll probably run downstairs as soon as he smells food.” Benedict joked.
“Is this supposed to be amusing?” Colin asked as his family left the room, but there was no answer. “What have I done to you?”
He followed them with a grunt, ready to sit down and eat his breakfast in silence, but he was left disappointed once again when there was no plate set for him. Surely, he could not have done something that would make them deprive him of food. Nothing could make them that furious.
So, he decided, this must be a prank. He had to give his siblings credit for pulling their mother into it. Well, maybe she was a bit annoyed because he had stayed away for months, only coming back after the season had begun. If they were trying to make him look like a fool, and have him embarrass himself, they had another thing coming. He could play their game as well.
“Seeing as I am not here, you cannot be angry about this.” He said happily and stood right behind Gregory. When his brother reached for a biscuit, Colin stole a sausage from his plate, immediately stuffing his mouth. He leaned over to Hyacinth, because if anyone was to break character and be easily annoyed with him, surely it would be his youngest sister. He took a pastry from her plate and walked a few steps back, not risking her rage that would end in a kick. Instead, when she noticed there was something missing on her plate, she turned to Gregory and hit him with her napkin.
“Well done. You are quite committed to this prank, are you not?” Colin laughed.
If they wanted to ignore him, he would not be left with an empty stomach. So, Colin kept walking around the table, stealing food from their plates when they were distracted with conversation, and off the middle of the table, but no one spoke a word to him. They all looked surprised when they would try to eat something that was no longer there, but they would only give a confused look to the person sitting next to them and placed more food on their plates.
“Fine. We will see who can last longer.” Colin promised.
In the end, they lasted longer. Colin left for a walk, sulking, and not noticing the lack of greetings from the rest of the Ton. When he returned, around dinner, he tried annoying his family once more, but no one paid attention to him. He fell asleep filled with irritation and decided he simply must try harder tomorrow.
So, he did.
He hid away their stuff, told countless stories of his travels, even a joke unsuitable for ladies, fully expecting his mother to tell him to be quiet, but she did not.
It was not until he stood in the Viscount’s study the next afternoon and observed his brothers, that he finally realised something was terribly wrong. He barely slipped through the door before Benedict slammed them shut with no consideration for Colin’s face. Anthony and Benedict had matching creases on their foreheads, their mouth pressed firmly together, and eyes focused as if they were in a staring contest. Eventually, one of them spoke and Colin’s mind spiralled.
“This is not something Colin does,” Benedict said. “Something must have happened to him.”
“Are we certain he’s not visiting some friends? He’d been gone for months.” Anthony asked, but the resignation in his voice showed how little faith he had in his words.
“Without noticing anyone? And skipping all meals?” Benedict stated the obvious. “No one has seen him since he arrived home from his travels. Mother is beside herself, and the rest of the family noticed it.”
“We must send word to Bow Street Runners. We must search for him.” Anthony declared.
“I’m right here!” Colin shouted and slammed his fists on mahogany desk he had been leaning on. Both of his brothers startled and observed the movement of brandy in the glasses as he rambled on. “It’s not amusing anymore! The entire family is ignoring me as if I don’t exist, even the servants pay me no mind. I had to find water and a cloth to wash myself because no one listened when I asked for a bath. I must take care of my clothes because my lackey just pokes his head in the room and leaves like I am not there. I’ve been wandering around the house and grumbling and no one seems to care at all.”
Once the liquid settled, their eyes were back on each other.
“What was that?” Benedict asked.
“Did you kick the desk?” Anthony questioned.
“Of course not.” Benedict answered just as Colin desperately said, “You know it was me.”
Anthony shook his head as if he was trying to clear his mind. “I will go start the search for Colin.”
“Shall I go with you?” Benedict took a step towards the door, but Anthony placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.
“No. Stay in case he comes back or there’s news about his whereabouts.” He commanded with authority, but Colin thought there was underlining fear in his voice.
Benedict nodded as Anthony rushed out of the study, and then fell into the Viscount’s chair. His face twisted with concern, and he rubbed his face. Colin watched as he reached for the brandy with shaky hand, a few drops spilling on the papers scattered over the desk. It gave him an idea, one that he hated because it meant that his situation was not a result of a family jest, but rather the wicked truth. They truly could not see him.
It was insane and absurd, but he would entertain it only for a minute, either looking like a naïve fool in his brother’s eyes or he would know he had been living in a nightmare.
As Benedict leaned his head back to drink the entire glass of brandy in one sip, Colin reached for a quill and dipped it in ink. He leaned over the desk right next to his brother and thought of what to write. He looked at Benedict, his gaze focused straight ahead and filled with worry and realised that no matter how vexing his siblings were, neither one of them was that good of an actor.
They could truly not see him.
Benedict? – He wrote slowly, not able to think of anything else to test out his theory.
“What in the name of God?” His brother gasped as the letters appeared on the paper.
It is Colin. – He rushed the words, not paying attention to neatness of his handwriting.
“What the hell is in this brandy?” Benedict grabbed the bottle and observed it as if he was expecting to find it was filled with poison.
Can you truly not see me?
Benedict stared at the paper that seemed to put words on it with no quill in sight, with no ink, with no hand near to write them. His eyes were wide, and his mouth gapping open, and it was then and there that he had decided to stop drinking, both alcohol and Colin’s special herbal tea.
I am right here next to you.
“Colin?” Benedict uttered his name as if he was unsure of his own reality.
Yes.
“This cannot be.”
Yet it is.
“Are you dead?” He asked, a tremble in his voice.
I do not believe so.
“I am going mad.” Benedict rose to his feet, almost knocking the chair down in the process, and Colin panicked. If his brother left, who was there to believe him?
If anyone is going mad, it must be me. It has been like this since yesterday morning. At first, I thought you were pranking me with pretending I was not here, but you truly do not see me, do you?
“No.” He barely got out.
I do not know what to do.
“I need to get Anthony. Wait here.” Benedict said and ran out of the room with one final glance back, as if Colin might appear in front of him, or perhaps that the sudden rush might wake him up.
Colin decided to indulge in a drink himself, so he poured a generous glass and leaned near the window with a troubled gaze on his face. Nothing seemed different with the world. The same members of the Ton were strolling down the street, carriages were passing by the house, the sun was shining, and the breeze was ruffling the leaves. He caught a glimpse of Benedict running, unaware of heads turning in his direction. He would have smiled to the sight if his situation was not terrifying as it was.
He took another sip of his brandy, but instead of warming his stomach, the liquid ended up splattered on the window and Colin violently coughed from the remains lodged in his throat. He tried hitting his chest to ease the choking, but the burning in his lungs lingered for a few more moments. It was like he forgot how to swallow, breathe, or even function at all.
Because he had never seen Penelope like this. It was not that she was more beautiful than ever, in a green dress that, instead of falling down her body like the fashion demanded, rather hugged her curves in a way that emphasized the softness of her stomach and the roundness of her bosom. It was not that her hairpins allowed for a few red curls to adorn her face and slid down her shoulders. It was not that she was smiling adorably, because Colin had known that expression on her all too well. It was the way she had greeted him every time he found her at balls or his mother’s drawing room.
No, his legs felt wobbly because he had never seen Penelope look so confident and delighted to converse with any man other than himself. And there she was now, on the arm of a gentleman he had never met, her hand casually hooked to his elbow as they walked with her mother trailing a few steps behind. He said something and she laughed, and even though Colin was standing all the way on the other side of the street, separated by a soiled window, he knew there was something wrong with it. When Penelope laughed, it was never in the same manner the other ladies did, gracefully and hiding behind their palms. No, when he made Penelope laugh, she grinned with no hidden intentions, and with joy written in the wrinkles by her eyes. She would look at him adoringly and the sound of her giggle would follow him for the rest of the day.
It was not the way she was laughing now. Colin could not point out what exactly was wrong, but it was all smudged with too much propriety. Like she was expected to laugh and not as if she was unable to stop the merriness from escaping her lips.
His stare did not leave her as she promenaded with the gentlemen, and he swore her neck had twisted for a second, as if she could sense him, but she stopped herself from looking towards the Bridgerton house. A moment later, they stepped around the corner and disappeared from his sight.
Colin almost left to follow, to find out who the gentleman was, to see where he was taking Penelope, but just as he had returned his gaze to the front of his home, he noticed his brothers rushing back in.
And the severity of his situation hit him again like he was trampled by a horse.
“Where is he?” Anthony asked as soon as they had entered the room.
“Colin?” Benedict asked carefully and walked towards the desk. “Are you here?”
“Obviously, he’s not.” Anthony said as if he was explaining to a child.
I am. – Colin quickly wrote on the paper.
“Look here, Anthony.” Benedict said and pointed to the paper.
“What are you on about?” The Viscount placed his hands on his hips but came closer to inspect his desk. “Where’s Colin?”
“This will sound mad,” Benedict started explaining, “but it would appear that Colin is…invisible.”
Anthony looked at him as if he was considering placing him in an asylum. “Have you been drinking that special tea again?”
“It feels that way.” Benedict muttered.
Colin rolled his eyes. He would have given anything for them to admit it all to be a prank now. He would not even retaliate. But that seemed less and less plausible every passing minute, so he placed his glass on the desk knowing he would need more brandy to deal with this.
“Where did that glass come from?” Anthony asked stunned.
Pour me another. – Colin wrote.
“What is this?” His eldest brother exclaimed.
“I don’t know how or why, but it’s the truth. For some reason we cannot see Colin.” Benedict tried again, as serios as Colin had ever seen him.
“I beg your pardon?”
Colin gave up on them filling his glass, so he took the bottle in his hands, and poured himself the brandy. He noticed his brothers staring as he took the first sip, wide eyes and round mouth as if he had committed a murder right in front of them.
“How–” Anthony shook his head and then finally started believing his brother. After all, he had just witnessed a bottle disappearing in thin air and the glass filling itself on its own, right before the bottle appeared once more on the desk. And then the glass was gone to, like it was never there in the first place. He shivered and uttered, “Is he dead?”
“I think not.” Benedict answered. “What happened, Colin?”
The glass was back on the table, half of its content missing, and the quill that had rested on the paper was gone as the words appeared.
I do not know.
“People do not just turn invisible.” Anthony deadpanned.
Do you think I want this?
“Something must have happened.”
This felt like torture. A cruel twist of fate. A punishment. A curse.
And Colin remembered one drunken night in Spain while he was back on his way home, exhausted and impatient to lay at his bed at the inn. It was the night he met a few soldiers, and he joined them walking around, going from tavern to tavern, right before they stumbled in one across an old woman, a self-declared witch who offered to tell future to the people passing on the street. Colin was quick to join his new friends in their mockery of her art, doing his best to catch the meaning of the words when they switched to Spanish. Drunken fool that he was, he had expected her to ignore them, but a moment later she crossed the street and stood right in front of them. She said a few sentences he did not understand, dropped a coin in front of him and his three friends, and walked away. They had laughed and kept drinking, but now Colin was forced to consider. It could not be true. There was no such thing as magic and witches and curses, it was all in legends in myths, but was he not just standing in front of his brothers entirely invisible?
A curse. – He wrote, feeling much like a fool.
“A curse?” Benedict read out, between mockery and astonishment.
I cannot think of anything else.
He quickly wrote his theory, the only hope for an explanation, and an even more terrifying possibility. A part of him was still expecting to wake up and learn it had all been a nightmare, a part of him was waiting for his brothers to finally admit it was all a prank, and a desperate part of him was heartbrokenly imagining living the rest of his life in loneliness.
“Curses are not real.” Anthony declared.
Do tell me, brother, what colour is my waistcoat? – Colin wrote with a scowl.
Anthony took a few steps and threw himself in his chair. “What will we do?”
He looked up at Benedict only to notice his perplexed face and realised how wrong his question was. He was their eldest brother, the head of the family, and if anyone had to make decisions it was him. They were his responsibility, always vexing him in some way and causing him trouble, but never before had a sibling disappeared on him. Certainly not in a way that Colin has.
“We should look for someone who understands such craft.” He decided.
“What craft? Witchcraft?” Benedict asked, a shade paler than before. “Surely, we’re not actually considering this?”
“What else is there? Can you see Colin?” His questions were left unanswered. “I will talk to some friends.”
“You have friends that know of curses?” Benedict would have laughed if not for stern look on his brother’s face.
And Colin could read between the lines – his brothers had no idea how to help him.
“We will fix this, Colin.” Anthony promised.
Colin nodded even though no one could see him.
“Until then, this must stay between us. No one can know.” His brother instructed. “It would take mother to her grave to know this.”
Benedict agreed, but added, “We must tell her something. She already worries for Colin.”
“We will tell her he’s with friends, at the club, I do not care what, but not the truth.” Anthony leaned forward, hiding his face in his palms, allowing himself one moment of desperation.
What should I do? – Colin had to hit the back of Anthony’s chair to get him to look at the paper, causing him to jump up in shock.
“Not that!” He yelled but felt guilt immediately. “You need to stay in the house, first of all. Perhaps it would be best if you stayed with Benedict the entire time.”
“My own ghost.” Benedict smiled teasingly, but neither of his brothers reacted. “Am I not allowed to make jests about it?”
No.
“I will start my search.” Anthony stood up.
Wait.
“What is it?”
I will be right back.
“What have I just told you?” Anthony groaned. “Stay with Benedict.”
Colin ignored him and went for the door, startling both of them when it opened, and hurried towards his room, almost crashing into Hyacinth on the way. He should be careful now, he realised. It would do no good if his family noticed him walking in and out of rooms, and he was damned lucky they had not already. So, before he entered his room, he double checked there was no one around before he walked inside. He kneeled by his trunk straight away, searching his things for the coin, wondering why he had even kept it in the first place. It had been a trophy, a thing he could parade around and tell people about the weird encounter on his travels, but now it was an embodiment of his curse, something wild and unnatural that never should have been allowed to happen. Finally, at the bottom of his truck, it laid, golden and shiny, with words on both sides that meant nothing to Colin.
Si está frente a ti, pero no lo percibes, te perderás.
Cuando reconoces a tu verdadero amor también encuentras a tu libertad.
He took it and returned back to the study, trying not to feel like he was haunting his own home. When he opened the door, his brothers’ whispers ceased immediately but anguish remained on their faces. He dropped the coin on the desk and watched as they observed it, as if they were too afraid that touching it would spread Colin’s curse.
I have learnt some Spanish words, but I cannot translate this. – He wrote.
“Something about love and freedom?” Benedict offered.
“Is this some kind of a love curse?” Anthony asked with his eyes firmly shut. “What exactly did you do with that witch?”
Nothing.
Anthony took a handkerchief and wrapped the coin in it before storing it in his pocket. “I will get it translated. And you two,” he gave a stern look to Benedict and the place where he had assumed Colin was standing, “stay out of trouble.”
Colin was left with little choice but to listen. He followed Benedict to join their family for tea, and every now and then, his brother would write ‘Are you here?’ next to his sketch to which Colin would write back a ‘Yes’. He noticed Benedict choking out a laugh after Colin had stolen half of Eloise’s sweets and she accused the nearest person to her, Francesca. All the arguments over food their family had suffered through during the past days suddenly made a lot more sense.
But there was a limit to how long Colin could tolerate being closed in their home. Maybe no one could see him, and maybe no one could talk to him, but only being an observer of his family was driving him insane. It did not help that they kept asking questions about him, no matter what his brothers told them. He could barely stand the concern in his mother’s eyes.
So, the next evening, after spending hours around Benedict, writing to him so he would have some sense of human contact, he decided that his time being locked in the Bridgerton house were over. Especially once most of his family started preparing themselves for social obligations. His brothers asked him to stay home in his room while they accompanied their sisters, but Colin chose to listen to their previous advice and stick to Benedict. He was bored and it would only be worse if he had to stay in his room on his own. Besides, he had one advantage over the matchmaking mamas – they could not match him if they could not see him.
He would be attending a ball tonight.
He wrote a short note to Benedict, demonstrating that there was no giving up on the idea and there was not much harm to be done if no one even knew he was there. His brother secured a carriage just for them and Colin held some paper on his person in case he needed something.
The moment he stepped in a stuffy ballroom, he questioned his sanity. He must have been desperate to have considered this as an enjoyable pastime.
He carefully walked between people to reach the closest wall where he could spend the night without risk of walking into someone. He stole some food on the way and happily chewed the treats as he observed the ballroom.
He was terrified of his fate, but there was something exhilarating about knowing he was invisible to the rest of them, for it was when people assumed no one was listening that they spilled secrets. He had learned that when two footman shared gossip about some Lord having a hidden illegitimate child in the country. He never cared much about such rumours, but he had to wonder what Whistledown would be able to do with such power. The woman filled her column with gossip as it was, if no one could see her walking around, all members of the Ton would see their secrets spelled out on her pamphlet.
He glanced around the room wondering if this curse would grant him power to discover her identity. But instead of finding suspicious behaviour, his eyes locked on a couple in the middle of the dance floor.
For the first time since he woke up invisible to the rest of the world, Colin felt truly out of place, as if he was watching a scene from his own life, and he wondered who the man standing in the place that would certainly be Colin’s in normal circumstances was. He hated to acknowledge it, but he knew he had been the only one to lead Penelope in a dance. He had believed the reason to be her lack of ease to converse with unknown men. After all, Penelope was a skilled dancer and a clever woman. He was aware that she had only spent time with him at balls, but now it seemed there was a different man taking Colin’s place. Worst of all, it was the same man he had seen leading her from her home the day before.
As he watched her spin around the dance floor, her blue gown sparkling in the candlelight and her red hair making her the easiest woman to spot despite her shortness, a part of Colin felt glad that she had someone to fill the empty space his disappearance left behind.
But his body still felt tense, his jaw still clenched, his fists were already grabbing the paper from his pocket, and a larger portion of his mind was occupied with unreasonable thoughts of his arms wrapping around Penelope and the unmistakable blue eyes gazing up at him as they danced.
He quickly wrote his question and located his brothers. Anthony was on the floor with Kate, and Colin wondered how he had failed to notice them, but Benedict was talking to another gentleman, so Colin made his way to him, almost crashing with Fife as he glanced back to where Penelope was.
When he had reached his brother, he poked his side, making him flinch with shock, and causing a few eyes nearby to look at him. Benedict realised what had happened and made his excuses, walking at the back of the room.
“What?” He hissed and Colin grabbed his arm to hand him the note. “Christ, do not do that.”
Colin barely registered that he had managed to move Benedict’s arm with no problem and waited for his brother to look at the words.
Who is the man dancing with Penelope?
There was a hint of amusement in Benedict’s eyes, but it swiftly disappeared and got replaced with worry. He looked up to find Penelope, and Colin frowned when it had taken his brother longer than two seconds to see her.
“Ah,” Benedict nodded in recognition, “Lord Debling.”
Colin took another paper. – Who is he?
“I’ve only seen him at the club once. Seemed like a nice fellow.” He whispered.
The dance ended and he noticed Lord Debling still holding Penelope on his arm and leading her from the floor. Just when Colin thought he would say his goodbyes and walk away, the man held his post and kept talking to her.
Why is he with Penelope?
“Don’t you know?” Benedict uncomfortably said and glance around to make sure no one noticed him talking quietly. “He’s been courting her.”
“I beg your pardon?!” Colin shouted, but there was no reaction to it from anyone.
Have you looked into him?
Benedict stared at Colin’s words. “Why would I?”
She has no male relatives to care for her. She is a family friend.
“Miss Featherington is capable enough to know who is suitable for her.” He noticed a footman turning in their direction with a curious gaze, so he covered his mouth with his palm. “We will speak at home.”
Colin almost reached out to pull him back, but his eyes found Penelope standing alone, a small smile decorating her face as she observed the dance floor. The blue of her dress reminded Colin of morning clear skies and he could almost hear the birds chirping as walked slowly through the crowd with one goal in mind. But he had to be mindful of other people in his path, what gave his sister a chance to reach Penelope first. When Eloise stood in front of her, right in the spot Colin had been preparing to occupy, he realised the flaw in his plan. It was not like she could see him anyways, it was not like he could earn himself her soft giggles, it was not like he could talk to her.
Miss Goring walked right beside him, so he moved to stand behind Penelope, little to the side so he could see her. He pressed himself against a wall where he was safe from others and looked at the slightly angry face of his sister.
“Have you heard from Colin?” Eloise asked Penelope and crossed her arms.
There was a moment of silence, clearly showing how little Penelope expected that question and particularly unusual for the duo. “I received his last letter three weeks ago.”
“Nothing since then?”
Penelope shook her head as answer, allowing a few of her loosened curls to dangle in a tempting way that lured Colin’s fingers to the point he almost reached out to feel their softness.
“Have you seen him?” Eloise eyebrows almost fused together as she frowned.
“No. Has something happened to him?” Penelope’s voice filled with concern, and if the situation was less severe, he would have basked in the care she had for him.
“That’s none of your business.” Eloise harshly said, surprising Colin.
“Eloise, please. I miss you all. I just wish to help.” She begged.
“We know how your helping ends.” Colin tried to understand why Eloise was upset with Penelope, but it remained a mystery. He had never witnessed them arguing, which he always thought more of a result of Penelope’s patience with Eloise’s ramblings than their inseparability.
“I’m trying to do better. Give me a chance to show you how sorry I am.” Penelope pleaded, leaving him wondering of what she could had done.
Eloise looked like she would turn around any moment and walk away like she liked to do when he had made a rather good point and she had nothing left to say, but something changed as she watched Penelope. She took a deep breath and finally let her hands fall by her side. “We have not seen Colin since he returned home. Anthony and Benedict say he’s with friends, but it doesn’t seem right.”
Penelope squinted. “That doesn’t sound like him.”
“Miss Featherington,” a manly voice interrupted, “here is your lemonade.”
“Thank you, Lord Debling.” Penelope smiled and took the glass from his hands. “This is Miss Eloise Bridgerton. Eloise, this is Lord Debling.”
“Pleasure to meet you.” He bowed.
Eloise only smiled at him and looked at Penelope. “I should find my mother.”
“El,” Penelope grasped her hand, “perhaps we could talk? Will you come to see me?”
Colin was witnessing the strangest interaction between his sister and Penelope. They had never been so cold towards each other, and he had to find out what had happened. He sucked in a breath, waiting for Eloise’s reaction just as much as Penelope. When she barely nodded, Penelope let go of her hand and smiled.
Eloise left Penelope with Lord Debling, but Colin had no strength to move his feet. It was not natural to just leave her on her own with a man he knew nothing about. His body was urging him to stay close, to make sure she was treated with respect and admiration she deserved, and that the man courting her was indeed an honourable one. There was little he could do about it as he was, but even if Anthony had his hands full while resolving Colin’s problem, his brother would have to prove Lord Debling’s intentions were true. Colin would make sure of it. Penelope deserved nothing less. And he had promised to look after her.
And so, he did. For the next torturous ten minutes as Lord Debling spoke with Penelope, he stayed close, waiting for her face to betray her emotions, but there was not a single piece of her heart hidden in her smile. It all reminded him much of when Daphne had filled drawing room of suitors and amiably greeted each of them, and not the way she glowed when Simon was nearby.
Perhaps growing affection takes time.
Lord Debling could not have been courting Penelope for long, and it did not signify they must marry, so she would have plenty of time to get to know him better. Maybe she would fall in love with him soon.
The image of Penelope with her heart in her eyes on the hand of this man stirred something in Colin he could not name. Just a spark of an unknow emotion that scratched his soul and made his face twist with displeasure.
It had to be concern.
After all that had happened with her cousin Jack, he felt as if Penelope was his responsibility. He wanted to see her happy, but he could not let go of this feeling until he made sure she was marrying the right man. Someone who was aware of her intelligence, understood her wit, her aspirations, recognised hidden insecurities in her shy smile, knew how to read her troubles between the lines, someone who worshiped every moment in her company and took care of her.
This was his chance to estimate if Lord Debling was up to the challenge, but he could not part his gaze from her lips. It was the way they moved, delicate and provocative, and Colin wondered whether he had ever noticed how enticing their strawberry pink was. They were almost distracting enough to keep out his thought of her scandalous bare shoulders and lower neckline of her dress. Almost.
He scolded himself for even allowing his mind to follow that direction. They were not proper for a gentleman, and certainly not for a gentleman’s dear friend.
But it made him think – if he, her friend, could see such feminine and alluring side of Penelope, what must men who consider her as a wife think?
His breath made way to his lungs much easier once Lord Debling finally said his goodbyes, but not before placing a kiss on her gloved hand, an action unacceptable enough for Colin to stretch out his leg just so the man could trip over, what appeared, thin air. Even if his face did not meet the floor, Colin proudly smiled at Lord Debling’s embarrassed face as he made his way across the ballroom.
After she was left alone, Penelope leaned on the wall right next to Colin, and he wanted nothing more than to lean down and whisper some barb in her ear, if only to make her laugh briefly. He still got to see her smile as they overheard some rumour coming from footmen standing close, contently, as if a gift had been placed in her hands. Apparently, he underestimated Penelope’s enjoyment of gossip.
At some point, she started walking to the back door, looking around as if checking there were no eyes on her, and then she slipped out of the room all on her own with no chaperone. Colin cursed and followed. She walked with purpose, far more confident than she had been dancing on the floor or conversing with anyone, until she reached a hidden path where a carriage awaited.
“What are you doing, Pen?” He asked but it was as if no words were spoken.
She opened the door, took a moment to gather her skirts in her hands so she could climb in, and that Colin a chance to get in, barely squeezing in without touching her. He sat down on the furthest edge of the seat and waited for her to join. And then the carriage drove off in the night, far from the lights of the ball, any sense of propriety and safety, for all that Colin cared.
She would not return home without her mother knowing, so where possibly could she go?
Had he missed her arranging a secret rendezvous with Lord Debling?
She would not.
This was Penelope. He knew her, and she would not step out of bounds of society to do something reckless.
But when she took out a hidden dress in the carriage and an unknown smile to him took over her face, he was forced to question all that he knew of Penelope. The mystery of her actions filled his mind long enough for him not to realise her intentions until she started pulling the laces of her dress. She was about to take of her clothes. In a carriage in the middle of street. With Colin in it. And she was not even aware of that part.
An insane part of him wanted to keep his eyes on her. He wanted to know what it would look like when her dress slid down her shoulders and revealed so much more of her skin. He wanted to see the blue pile on the floor and Penelope bare. But damn it, not like this.
Then how? – a voice in his head demanded.
He forced his limbs to move and his torso to turn, his head the last one listening the command, his eyes catching glance of the blue fabric falling down her arms and he longed for her to let him see more. He pressed himself even further from her, practicing his Latin verb conjugations to distract himself from thinking about what was happening right behind his back.
It was not right. He was a gentleman.
So, when her shuffling stopped, he peaked, and his breath hitched to the sight. Penelope, dress as a maid, with a piece of paper in her hands folded neatly, held as if it was her most precious possession. He leaned over but could not make out the words as the carriage hit bumps on the road. Instead, he observed her. Still with that smile Colin would describe as superior, like she hid a secret no one could ever guess, and at that moment he was certain it was true.
Penelope had a secret.
And no matter how wrong it felt to invade her privacy in such way, he would use any advantage to find out what it was.
He looked out the window as the carriage stopped and almost laid his arms on her to keep her inside. It would matter little how terrified it would have made her if it kept her out of this part of town. As a matter of fact, she should be terrified. It was no place for a lady. But if he did that, how would he know her plan?
Instead, he placed himself closer to use the chance to get out as soon as she did, but he had to hold the door opened as he climbed down and moved his weight as little as possible not to rattle the carriage too much. Hopefully, she would conclude that the door was just stuck a little and pay it no mind.
She closed the door and ran, shocking him once more and making him rush behind her. He looked around to make sure there was no danger to her idiotic decision to come alone there and failed to notice her destination until she slowed her pace to stop herself from crashing with the door.
Why would she be visiting a printer shop while she was supposed to be at a ball?
And then they entered, Colin once more sliding in unnoticeable and silent until Penelope started speaking. In a convincing Irish accent and he stared at her like he had never even met her before.
When her words finally reached his brain, and she took a tiny bag with money, he wanted to yell and throw a fit and burn the damn shop to the ground. A raging beast in him questioned if he would take the time to drag Penelope out with him, or would he just leave her be in devilish flames she had sparked to life the first time she placed her pen to the paper.
Whistledown.
Penelope.
Penelope was Lady Whistledown.