"Open the door this instant, Penelope!"
Hearing the banging on her door and her mama's voice yelling from the other side, Penelope quickly put away her writing materials. The newest Lady Whistledown column sheet was almost ready. She had planned to complete it while Prudence and Portia were busy entertaining callers this afternoon only to be interrupted repeatedly. Irritated, she walked to the door and opened it, allowing Portia Featherington to barge in.
In her mother's hands was a lovely bouquet of lilies which Portia placed on the nearby desk.
"The Bridgerton boy is here." There was no mirth on Portia's face, her striking eyes gleaming as she confronted Pen.
"Is he?"
"Which, I know, you're already aware of because Mrs. Varley came up here to inform you."
Pen kept her mouth shut.
"Is there a reason you turned down his invitation for a promenade?"
"I don't feel well."
"Not good enough, Penelope! When a gentleman comes to call on you, you must always say yes!"
"Even on our deathbeds," Pen muttered under her breath.
"Yes, even then," Portia retaliated. "Martha!" She screamed, calling for Penelope's maid. "Wear something suitable for your walk with that boy. There will be others who see you in the park."
"I thought he left?"
"Fortunately, he did not."
"Mama, he's not courting me. We're just friends. You know that, right?"
"It doesn't matter. He's a Bridgerton. Where he leads, others will follow and that is the only thing working in your favour in your advanced age."
And with that statement Portia stormed out, leaving Pen alone with Martha in her chamber.
"These flowers are beautiful, Miss. I'll put them in water."
Pen watched as Martha busied herself with the vibrant, varying colors of the bouquet. In one of their letters she had mentioned to Colin about her newfound appreciation of lilies, and apparently he had kept that in mind.
"Shall I fetch the orange dress for you, Miss?" Martha asked, returning to her.
"No, the pale green one please. And the matching shawl."
As Martha scurried about, Pen took a deep breath to calm her nerves.
***
Penelope exited her home and headed down the stairs, Martha following behind her. Her mother was watching them through the window, taking note of everything going on, and Pen didn't want to give her mama anything new to harp about. Colin, of course, was using her reticence to his full advantage. He stood on the sidewalk, a wicked smirk on his face, looking more handsome than any gentleman had a right to. Pen ignored the flutter of butterflies in her stomach, reminding herself how angry she was at him. What she wanted to do was take him to task for calling on her when she repeatedly asked him not to. Instead, she was forced to greet him with a stiff smile.
"Mr. Bridgerton," she said coldly, stopping in front of him.
His smirk transitioned into a full smile. "Pen," he said with a deliberate languid drawl, trying to goad her no doubt.
"Mama is at the window."
"I'm aware." Colin's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Shall we promenade?"
Penelope glanced over her shoulder and found her mother watching her like a hawk. She turned back to Colin. "Forcing me into this wasn't very gentlemanly of you."
He quirked his eyebrow. "Perhaps I'm no longer a gentleman."
"Maybe you never were."
She wanted to offend him but he seemed impervious to her taunts, instead offering her his arm for their walk together. Aggravated, she ignored him and started down the path by herself. Within seconds he was next to her, his long strides now matching her own pace, with Martha following behind them.
"Did you like the lilies?" Colin asked.
"I did not."
He simply smiled. "That's unfortunate. Maybe I'll bring roses in the future."
"Absolutely not!" she huffed. "Mama will get the wrong idea."
"We are friends, Penelope," he reminded her. "Friends give each other gifts. We've exchanged them in the past."
"Never in front of Mama!"
"And I've visited you before," he insisted.
"No, you haven't. We've always only spoken at your home or social gatherings. In fact the only other time you came with flowers was to call on Marina." The grimace on his face made her heart squeeze with envy. Even after all this time simply saying her cousin's name evoked such a strong reaction in him. But as much as the idea of him still harboring feelings for Marina hurt, she wasn't going to let pain distract from her focus. "I can't have you encouraging foolish ideas in Mama's head."
He clenched his jaw, agitated. "Is this really about Lady Portia or are you worried your mystery suitor will get jealous?"
She stopped midstride, turning to level him with a hostile glare. "He knows there's nothing between you and me."
Colin took a step towards her. The blues of his eyes darkened, blazing with emotion. "Even after last night?" His voice was a throaty murmur, his words only meant for her ears.
Her heart quickened, His gaze drifted down to her lips, pausing momentarily, as if he was remembering touching her, the feel of his hot mouth on her skin. And then his sight travelled lower, to where he licked and kissed her chest, and the lovebites he left on her breasts that she had to scrupulously hide behind a scarf this morning lest her mother noticed. The way he was looking at her set her body on fire, she felt it intimately between her legs.
They were surrounded by people, yet it felt like it was only the two of them. As she found herself drowning in the depth of his eyes, the world ceased to exist.
And then the image of his panic-stricken expression flashed through her mind, reminding her of how horrified he was after kissing her.
Instantly she pulled away, turning away from him. She started walking faster, trying to regain her composure in the few short seconds it took for Colin to catch up to her.
"You can't pretend it didn't happen, Pen."
"You're right, I can't. But that doesn't mean I'll allow a moment of foolishness to sway me from what's important."
"I know you. You wouldn't have kissed me that way if you really loved someone else.".
It was the conceit in his words that infuriated her. "Is that so, Colin?" She turned to confront him. "Didn't you proudly claim to have flirted with half the women in London? I'm sure you' kissed many of them. Will you stand there and tell me you cared for all of them? That all those ladies held a special place in your heart? Or will you be honest and admit a kiss can just be a kiss without it meaning anything?"
His eyes narrowed onto her. "Do you expect me to believe our kiss meant nothing to you?"
"Don't treat me like a naïve debutante, Colin. I'm fully aware passion can exist without love."
"But that wouldn't be true for us, would it?" He didn't move, yet it felt like his body swayed closer, encroaching on her personal space, making it impossible for her to think. Even breathe. "Because there is love between us. There always has been."
Her heart pounded in her chest. For so long she'd yearned for his love, ached for it. Over the years there were so many times she thought herself a fool for even thinking he could love her. But then he would seek her out in a crowd to dance with her, they would talk about things they dare not discuss with others, and the hope in her heart would bloom despite her insecurities. Just like it did now. "Speak clearly, Colin. Do you love me?"
"Of course I love you. I've loved you since we were children. You're my dearest friend."
"But are you in love with me?"
"Are you?"
She swallowed the lump in her throat. There were children playing in the park, families around them talking and laughing. Yet all she felt was Colin's piercing gaze tear through her, the air thick with tension as the minutes ticked by. "Yes. Even though I desperately wish I wasn't."
His face ran the whole gamut of emotions, from utter shock to panic to fear. "I... Pen..."
"You're not in love with me," she stated matter-of-factly.
"No."
His response didn't come as a surprise, she had always known the truth. And despite the pain that wracked through her, she felt relief. Because she would no longer have to wonder. Now there was certainty and it brought with it a strong desire to move on.
There was much trepidation in his voice as he spoke next. "I'm sorry if I-"
"There's no need to apologize." Her voice was calm, steady. "You haven't done anything wrong." She glanced behind him, her eyes absently taking in the view behind. "We can't help who we love." There was a numbness that slowly spread through her, enveloping her heart, her very being.
"I care for you, Pen. And I know you, you're kind and sweet and want to see the best in people. Which is why I'm worried-."
"You don't know me," she replied, snapping out of her daze. His face came back into focus, along with the rest of the world. "Not really. You've only seen certain facets, parts that I've chosen to show. I've always been so worried about what others would think, of being palatable to my family, to you and Eloise, to society... and for what? What was even the point?" She started pacing, her mind reeling.
As much as she aspired to be good, she could never fully commit to it. Lady Whistledown was borne from the part of her that wanted retribution against the ton for always ignoring her. In the clear light of day she was voiceless and unwanted, but in the shadows was where she thrived, where her words meant something and she had value and control. There was a time when she used to think the different parts of her could coexist and she could still be more good than bad, but Eloise's words during their last argument proved otherwise.
"What are you talking about?" He blocked her path, forcing her to look up at him. A confused expression marked his beautiful face. "I've always known who you are."
She peered up at him. Everything he said about her – kind and sweet and only seeing the best in people – was actually true of Colin himself. He deserved someone who was equally beautiful and kind, and that would never be her. "You've been a good friend, to me and my family. And I appreciate your concern but I can look out for myself. Arthur is a good man-"
"Arthur?" The sudden vitriol in Colin's voice was sharp. "Arthur what?"
"That's not important," she said dismissively. "What matters is you no longer have to worry about me, Colin. I absolve you of that responsibility."
"You do, do you?" Anger laced his voice, his eyes growing dark with contempt. "Because of this Arthur?" He took a step forward, crowding her, the proximity between them so close that she could feel his breath humming her skin, could almost feel the touch of his fingers against her gloves. "Tell me, Penelope, does he know you? Did you show him all the parts of you that you claim to have kept hidden from the rest of us?"
Irritation surged through her at his mocking tone, but she reminded herself to be patient. "He understands me better than most."
"A man you've known for mere months?" Colin's eyes glistened with fury. "Why does he get that privilege? What has he done to earn your trust so easily?"
The hate in his voice took her by surprise. "Why are you behaving this way, Colin? I thought you would be happy for me."
Jaw clenched, anger masking his features, his eyes roamed over her face. "You expect me to live a life without you in it and be happy about it?"
"So what should I do, be a spinster for the rest of my life to appease you? Do you not see how selfish that is?"
"I don't give a damn!"
Penelope noticed the glances thrown in their direction, the look of concern in Martha's face. Even though Colin hadn't raised his voice, the tension on his face made it clear they were having an argument. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm him down. "This isn't who you are, Colin."
"Isn't it? Maybe it's you who doesn't know me." He dipped his head lower, his eyes smoldering with rage. "Maybe I've always been unreasonable and selfish. Maybe I'm willing to do whatever it takes to protect the people who matter to me."
She didn't know if the threat in his voice was deliberately meant to scare her but it elicited the opposite reaction, provoking her anger. "You're not my guardian or my protector. I'm not your responsibility. I don't need anything from you."
Instead of backing off, his voice grew more determined. "You don't have a choice in this matter, Penelope. I will not lose you."
"Except I'm not yours to lose. I do not belong to you. You don't get to make demands on me when you don't even love me," she reminded him coldly. "I will marry the man I choose and live the life I want. And it's you who has no say in that matter."
Feeling strongly in her resolve, she turned and walked away.
To be continued...