Chapter Text
If there was something that Colin Bridgerton wasn’t expecting that spring of 1821, it was getting married, despite his mother never relenting attempts to bring the good prospects of matrimony. Ever since he became her oldest unmarried child, her attentions were greater than ever.
One could say that he wasn’t expecting to marry in all the years prior or even the years in the near future, but fate always finds a way to surprise even the most vigilant.
And it was not like he was totally against the idea of marriage. He simply believed that, when the time was right, it would happen naturally. Without any need of motherly interventions.
For now, he found himself peacefully accommodated in the comfort of his bachelor lodgings situated in Bloomsbury. That didn’t mean, of course, that he could not visit his mother house as much as possible. Mainly, when one of the reasons for his current stay in London was her birthday in the upcoming weeks.
Every Bridgerton child knew that their Mother refused with all her might to celebrate her age increase and for that motive every year they tried to find new ways of convincing her. Due to his, perhaps, mischievous nature, he kept thinking in a way to ploy with his siblings about a secret celebration for her.
Interrupting his childish ideas, Dunwoody, his butler, entered the study carrying a new tray of biscuits and his weekly correspondence. As Colin was in no mood for reading at the moment, he ate leisurely for a few minutes and decided to get ready for the evening ball.
It had been a few days since what everyone in the ton seemed to only talk about was the dullness of the social gatherings. Apparently, recently there was no revelation of a dark secret from the past of a gentleman or the news of a couple who had eloped. Society was finding difficulty in entertaining themselves. Which only meant that the tiniest signs of smoke would revoke a dangerous fire. And therefore, the safest path would be to be very careful with one's words and actions.
Colin didn’t find himself as the subject of gossip very often. But essentially avoiding never hurted. With that in mind, he greeted everyone who he crossed paths with a charming smile.
When he caught sight of his mother, Colin approached her, who squeezed his arms sweetly as she got close enough to do so. There was always such a loving gaze in his mother's eyes whenever she looked at her children. In that sense she was a person very transparent in her affections. He often noticed how she seemed more relaxed and happy once he came back from his travels. He was aware how it broke her heart to see him go even if he was all grown up and capable of making his own life decisions.
“How are you, dearest?” She asked.
“I'm well, mother. And how are you this evening? With your hands always so full taking care of El.” She shot him a warning glance but replied.
“Speaking of her, can you go dance with your sister? She looks a little distressed.”
“I think she is fine…” he said, searching the room for a glimpse of Eloise and finding her fidgeting in a corner trying to erase her presence. Violet didn't seem convinced with his statement so he obliged, “Of course, mother.”
“Something caught your eye, sister?” He asked when he stopped by Eloise's side.
Wrinkling her nose, she answered “There would be very few things to grasp my interest in a ball like this. But for instance, I would have preferred if Mrs. Grant had sticked with one or two flower picks. All of this smell is making me nauseous.” At that she sneezed.
If there was someone still confused about the season they were in after this ball there would be no doubt, since Mrs. Grant seemed to have bought every single species of flowers that bloomed that spring. The smell was so strong that it became barely pleasant.
“I think she mistook the guests for bees.” He said glaring around. There were certainly some unhappy Mamas that now had very few options of flowers to pick for their own gatherings for the rest of the week. “Mother asked me to dance with you.”
“I'm in no mood for such things, but better with you than with Mr. Tyron.” The man in question was looking in their direction caressing his own face yet to make a decision to finally come closer. “It's his second cup, I think he will never get the courage. Besides, he's a terrible dance partner.”
“His reputation precedes him, for even I'm aware of the fact that he's as gracious as a stone.”
“Even Whistledown mentioned once seeming to take pity on the poor debutants who left the dance floor clearly in pain.”
“Even that wasn't enough to bring him to the clarity he needed for newer dance lessons. Perhaps, the only thing bigger than his mustache is his ego.” At that Eloise scoffed and accepted Colin's hand leading them to the dance floor as a cheerful song started. When they slided a little too close to another giant flower arrangement, Eloise sneezed again and Colin decided to slow the dance for her well-being.
When the dance ended they decided to stay away from Mr. Tyron for their foots sakes. After some more insipidus remarks about the hostess' exaggerated decorations choices and guests' terrible social skills, he realized he was left alone. Deciding to not feel resentful with his sister's typical behavior - probably caused by her rediming him as too boring - he set foot to the gardens in order to feel some fresh night air.
The stone paths were illuminated by well lit candles which flames danced occasionally with the wind. The atmosphere was more welcoming outside, with the moon coloring everything with a silver glow. Not far from where he was standing he caught a glimpse of the familiar red hair that he secretly liked to admire. Not everyone in society agreed that the auburn locks were in fashion, but since when did he truly cared about what society had to say anyways? To him the color was fascinating, and every now and then he imagined running his fingers through them, as he believed it to be as soft as cotton. If it was considered strange to think so much about a friend's hair, he decided to ignore that part.
As he got closer, he realized she was not alone, as it seemed a common occurrence nowadays. Standing by her side, apparently enjoying himself very much, it was the notorious Lord Debling. Colin had no idea of how that relationship had begun, but they seemed to be very friendly with each other. What left him wondering what they could possibly spend hours talking about. Because, as long as he knew they didn't have much mutual interests.
Surprisingly to his dismay, the blond man appeared to have said something very spirited causing Penelope to laugh brightly. Even in the low light it was possible to see a small blush on her cheeks as she brought her right hand to cover her mouth as she recomposed herself.
Colin was someone who cared greatly about her happiness and well-being, but unexpectedly at that moment he felt compelled to interrupt rather than join the duo's conversation.
On such a dull night, what could be so funny? They certainly would be happy to share such joyous comments with him.
Striding directly towards the couple, he greeted them.
“Good evening,” bowing slightly he said with a smile, “lord Debling” then turning in Penelope's direction, “Miss Featherington” who mimicked his gesture and lowered her head a little. “Such a delightful evening we are having, is it not?”
“Indeed, a lovely ball.” replied lord Debling with a polite smile.
And just like that, the trio fell into a mortifying silence.
Colin was finding very quickly that whatever entertaining topic they were sharing with each other previously, disappeared with his presence.
“Interesting the choice of flowers of our hostess, don't you think?” He decided to approach a subject that seemed to be the current talk among the guests. “I did not know that Mrs. Grant had intention of re-creating a greenhouse” he said, trying to lighten the mood.
“Are you acquainted with botany, Mr. Bridgerton?”
“Only when it's used for the art of charm.” He replied with one of his characteristic smiles as flowers were commonly used to deliver secret messages and confessions.
Beside him, Colin heard Penelope silently chuckle, apparently unsurprised by his behavior, that was masqueraded with a light clear of throat.
“Some good company truly impels us to think of flowers. For instance, Miss Featherington reassembles fresh canterbury bells tonight.” Colin wanted to add that at the current ball it was technically impossible to not think of flowers at all.
At that moment, Penelope blushed softly and gave out a lighthearted laugh that positively reminded one of ringing bells. Her expression was calm and delighted. Inexplicably, a twisted feeling was forming in the pitch of Colin’s stomach, not at her clearly content state, but something deeper. With a few seconds of disturbing realization, it donned on him. It was envy of Debling's comment. He wanted to be the one who would bring such joyous reactions out of her. Suddenly taken aback, he didn't notice the course of the conversation changing as he seemed to have disassociated for a moment. And for that reason he didn't notice Penelope looking at him with worrying eyes due to his sudden quiet demeanor.
With a few long strides, Eloise decided to join them, forgetting her manners a little bit in her exasperated state. “I’m afraid I cannot take this strong smell any second longer.” she said, linking her arm through Penelope's for some support, who squeezed her hand gently looking genuinely concerned for her friend's well being.
“Don't you like the flowers Miss Bridgerton?”
“This excessive quantity? I don't believe a soul does. Not even the pollinator animals.”
“Are you studying the cultivation of flowers, Eloise? Seems an interesting topic.” Said Penelope attempting to distract her friend that currently was looking a little too green and pale.
“If you are agreeable, I could share some knowledge that I hold myself. It would be delightful to talk about such subjects with such witted minds.” Debling said gently which only caused Colin to unconsciously refrain from making a face that would be considered as impolite.
Eloise on the other hand seemed a little unaware of what they said and instead was still focused on her own statement. “Pollinators. Pollen… such a funny word, isn't it?” Another sneeze. “It looks just like a junction of your names,” she said, pointing at her older brother and her best friend. “Polinnn… my two favorite people in the world.” Then she glanced at Colin and added “On occasion.” She smiled weakly.
“Would you like to go home, sister?” Colin offered, now not certain he would like to stay in the ball himself, even if that meant leaving so soon. He was getting highly suspicious his sister had added at least 3 drinks to her allergy and now she was acting strange. He frowned a bit as he thought he should've taken better care of her.
Eloise seemed happy for the first time in the evening, giving Colin a look that almost meant “that's what brothers are for! Now serve me”. And just like that, they bid their goodbyes, and he went home after leaving his sister safely at Number 5.
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As Colin sat on his bed, he could not help but keep thinking about the familiarity of Penelope and lord debling, he knew she was allowed to have other friends, yet it seemed so strange to see her acting this way with somebody else. He barely spent a few minutes in their company and he noticed her blush twice at his words.
Throughout the years most of her time was spent dividing her attention between himself and Eloise. She was a warm, kind and constant company in their lives. Imagining a world without Penelope on it, felt as if the sun was cold, and therefore life itself was not deemed possible.
It felt incredibly selfish to deny her of sharing her affable nature with others. She was her own person and responsible for making her own decisions, just like himself. However, it still stung a little to see someone else taking his place at her side. Suddenly, he felt regretful for spending so much of his time abroad, when he could be cultivating his relationships better, after all there's only so much one can put on a letter. What? Colin stood up. He feared this line of thought was getting too dangerous.
He never had this kind of thoughts before. He never considered himself the jealous type of person. And besides what he was feeling was nothing of the sort. Even so, he decided to unstop a bottle of brandy and pour himself a cup. Colin never considered himself a drinker either, though that must be probably the influence of his older brothers. Although, the moment the glass touched his lips an uncanny feeling spread out in him from head to toe. He shook his head trying to make it disappear.
He ran his hands through his hair a couple of times trying to think of something else, when he remembered he hadn't read his correspondence yet. Moving to grab the letters, he found that two of them were from Scotland, one from Lady Kilmartin, his younger sister, and the other from a person he did not recognize. As curiosity spoke the better of him, he decided to open the second one first, only to be decidedly shocked by its contents.
Dear Mr. Bridgerton,
Greetings from the Dewdrop Inn! I do hope you remember us when it has been a long time since the last time we spoke. I trust this letter finds you in the finest of spirits. The rain here, as ever, is as regular as clockwork, though as we are already used to it, it's not difficult to find beauty in it as well.
Now, I do apologize for the delay in reaching out to you. You see, whilst tending to some records, or as my wife would say disorganizing even further the messes, I stumbled upon something most curious that dates back about— three years? A wee slip of parchment I’d tucked away for safekeeping after a certain memorable evening at our inn.
If my memory serves—and it usually does—there was a certain joyous occasion involving yourself and a redhead lady companion, a fine bottle of whisky, and our very own Reverend MacTavish. A bonnie night, if I do say so myself. It appears the Reverend, in his efficient way, left behind some official documents, including one bearing your name. Now, I’ve no wish to pry into private affairs, but I thought it only courteous to send it along, in case it might be of sentimental value to you and your dear wife.
Do let me know if you ever find yourselves back in our rainy hills—there’s always a room ready and a fine bottle waiting for old friends. I do hope you and your family are faring well, and before I forget myself happy anniversary!
Yours with fondest regards,
Hamish MacLeod
Innkeeper, The Dewdrop Inn.