Chapter Text
Even when Mondrich’s nearly bursts at the seams, there’s always a reserved table for anyone with the name Bridgerton. Colin swirls the scotch in his crystal tumbler, taking a measured sip. He likes to keep his wits about him when drinking with his brothers, lest they gang up on him.
“It was the best opening Celeste has had in years,” Benedict laments. “Honestly, you should have been there. Top shelf stuff too.”
Colin rolls his eyes. “You know I’m not much for art.”
“Beautiful women and an open bar,” Anthony mutters behind his glass. “Sounds like your thing.”
Something ugly settles in Colin’s stomach at that. He’s used to his carefree traveler reputation being misconstrued relentlessly, especially by his brothers. He’s never been quite the lothario they make him out to be, but it’s not something he could easily explain to them given their own past romantic (well, very unromantic) histories before marriage.
“Well, that’s too bad. I was busy last night.”
“Busy?” Benedict raises a brow.
“I actually tried a new restaurant. It was amazing, you guys really need to go. Kate would die for the steak tartare.”
“I’ll have to make a note of it,” Anthony says with just a tinge of sarcasm. As the most sensible of the Bridgerton siblings, he doesn’t get excited about things like restaurants, but he will likely make a note and bring his wife at some point because he knows it will make her happy and for all the things Colin can say about his eldest brother, he is, in fact, a good husband.
“What new restaurant?” Benedict asks, flagging over the server for refills.
“The Vietnamese-French fusion place in Chelsea.”
Ben’s eyebrow arches even higher. “Sophie’s mentioned that place. Said it sounded like a great date spot.”
Colin swallows and blows past the insinuation. “Well the food is cracking and the ambiance is also really nice, which I’m sure she’d enjoy.”
“I’ll see about getting us a reservation.”
Colin proceeds to list off a few of the dishes he tried and a few others he wasn’t able to get to, but insinuates he’ll have to return at some point.
“Sounds like a lot of food for you and whatever Instagram flavour of the week you convinced to join you,” Anthony jibes, and it hurts for a split second, but Colin pays him no mind. His brothers would never understand, and he doesn’t waste time overthinking their misinterpretations of him. He learned that long ago.
“It wasn’t even a date. I went with Pen.”
“You went with Penelope?” Benedict asks, sitting forward in his chair.
“Yeah. It was better than a date, actually, because she tried all the food too so we could actually get excited about it together.”
“Our Pen does love a good tartare,” Anthony quips while Benedict eyes his younger brother. Colin can feel the side of his face burning under his scrutiny.
“She does, and that wasn’t even her favourite.” He tells them about the crispy shrimp and pork roll that Pen was practically singing about on their walk back to her flat afterwards. He must talk for a while, and he can’t forget to mention the way she giggled and snorted when the waiter presented a platter with a massive roasted duck on it. It was objectively funny, and his brothers know Penelope, so he figures they’ll find it funny as well. Instead, they both stare at him curiously.
“Um, the dessert was good too,” he says, suddenly self conscious of their watchful gazes.
“So… you had a nice time?” Benedict asks, a hint of teasing in his tone. “At dinner with Penelope?”
“Obviously. We always have a nice time together.”
Benedict opens his mouth to say something else, but Anthony clears his throat loudly. “Well, that’s good. We’re happy to hear you had a nice evening with your friend.”
The pub gets a little busier, but their table is the best in the house, so they have room to stretch out. Simon joins them occasionally, but Augie is doing a sleep regression thing, and Gregory isn’t quite old enough to go out drinking just yet.
Anthony makes a joke about getting older that reminds Colin of something Penelope said the previous evening. He relays her wisdom and earns the tiniest hint of a smile from his eldest brother.
Her name comes up again, another anecdote that he knows his brothers will find amusing. They all share a groan about Eloise’s latest hyperfixation cause rooted in her guilt of being born into a life of extreme wealth and privilege. Colin had actually spoken to Penelope about this, but she urged him to be patient with his sister. He relays the same with his brothers, but doesn’t mention her by name this time. He knows better this time.
“Sounds like something a certain wise redhead we know might say, hmm?” Benedict muses.
Colin shrugs his shoulders at his transparency. “She knows Eloise better than we do, you’ve got to admit.”
He thinks he might get away with any further teasing, but then when the topic of Christmas comes up, Anthony pulls out his phone to check what date he and Kate are heading to Aubrey Hall, and Colin says he’s not sure when he’s going yet. As the traveler of the family, this should come as no surprise to anyone. However, this strikes a chord.
“Your Christmas flights were booked last month, I’ve got the confirmation email right here,” Anthony says waving his phone. “What else is holding you up? You’ll be back in London by the eighteenth either way.”
He rubs a hand across his mouth. “I just need to see what Pen is doing first. That’s all.”
“Christ,” Benedict mutters, his tumbler meeting the wood table with a thud.
“She has to check with work first! And you know how weird her mum gets about Christmas—”
“And?”
Colin blinks at them. He feels caught, but he isn’t quite sure why. “Well, we were talking about it last night actually. We’re planning to drive down together once she sorts that out.”
Benedict scoffs and Anthony throws out an arm to stop him from tilting forward even further in his chair.
“There are trains, you know,” Anthony says reasonably. “She could meet us in Kent any time.”
“Well, I’ve got a perfectly good car.”
“No you don’t!” Benedict huffs out exasperatedly.
“It’s a rental! I booked it for the holiday. Honestly, what exactly is the crime here?”
“No, no. No crime. Just curious, is all.” Anthony sits back again, shooting a warning look at Benedict, before assuming a look of calm nonchalance. “Very kind of you to offer to her.”
“Yep,” Benedict says, popping his p. “Kind indeed.”
The ugly pit returns to Colin’s stomach at the way they needle him about Penelope. They’ve always been friends, and there’s always been an element of Eloise and him fighting over her, but Eloise doesn’t get half the shit he does over her longtime friendship with Pen. His plan to cut himself off after two drinks goes to hell when the server reappears and his annoyance peaks.
Somewhere in the midst of scotch number four, the burning sensation long faded from his tastebuds, something makes him snap. While Anthony rolls his eyes as he recounts Daphne’s latest matchmaking attempts, which no one in the family has much faith in anymore, Colin loses his cool. He’s long been the favourite target of painful setups and he can’t stomach it any longer. He certainly can’t stand the way they all talk about it, like he’s not even there. He’s feeling a bit in the hot seat tonight, either way.
“Can you just not?” he bristles at his brothers. “See, this is exactly what I mean. You’ve both been married for centuries, and cheers to you on that, but dating can be so awkward and painful, especially blind dates. Lest you forget the great blind date debacle with a certain someone’s younger sister?” He points a finger.
Anthony shudders at that. No one in the family has forgotten his horrid setup with Kate’s sister, Edwina, no matter how many years have passed.
Benedict stifles an amused laugh. “No one’s saying you’ve gotta go on a blind date—”
“You just said she was cooking up a new setup.”
“You’re really one to jump to conclusions, you know that?”
“You know, you guys gave me a hard time about actually enjoying myself at dinner with Pen last night, but honestly it’s the first time I’ve actually enjoyed a night like that in forever. I’m not doing another shitty setup where I have to fuss over what to wear, or second guess everything I say or, I don’t know—order vegetables.” He makes a face of disgust.
“The setup isn’t even for you! Will you bloody relax?” Anthony’s face turns a bit red, and Colin knows he’s getting on his brother’s last nerve.
“Oh.” Colin sinks back in his chair.
“It’s for Penelope.”
“Oh.” He sinks back further, shame starting to consume him, before popping up again. “Wait, what?”
Anthony shrugs and sips his scotch. “Daph said it’s some consultant at Simon’s firm. She thought they’d make a good match, and asked Penelope if she could give him her number—”
Colin laughs uncomfortably. “Pen wouldn’t do that.” He pauses. “She didn’t, did she?”
The vein in Anthony’s forehead begins to throb. Benedict stifles a laugh next to them. “I think she did, yeah.”
The pit in Colin’s stomach transforms into something more gruesome. He thinks it’s the alcohol chewing its way through the lining and into his cells. Is this alcohol poisoning? Does he have a temperature? Maybe he should get checked out.
“But did she—I mean, maybe she’s—”
“Colin, for the love of fucking god!” Anthony snaps. “Do you hear yourself? Christ, do you see yourself?”
Benedict shoves his phone into his face and snaps a photo, the flash nearly blinding him, turning the screen around to show them. “You look stressed, mate. All red and mopey. Like something’s got your knickers in a twist.”
“More like someone,” Anthony mutters.
“I’m lost,” Colin says, blinking away the red spots popping behind his eyelids from the flash.
“Oh, yeah, we fucking know you are.” Benedict waves the phone in his face again.
“You do realize that within the same conversation you bragged about what a phenomenal non-date you had with Penelope while also looking properly outraged at the idea of her giving her number to someone,” Anthony points out, all amusement gone from his tone. He sounds quite serious now, actually.
“I…” Colin sucks in a breath and struggles with what to do next. His head spins and the room suddenly begins to close in on him.
“Christ, we need to spell it out for him. Didn’t realize he was that dense.” Benedict puts his head in his hands. “You love her.”
“What? I don’t—Pen and I are friends.”
Anthony scoffs. “This is how you feel about your friends? Taking them to romantic restaurants? Renting a car to drive them up to Christmas at your family home?”
“It wasn’t romantic, it was—”
“It was a fucking date, Colin. Get your head out of your arse.”
“It wasn’t!”
“Oh? So you wouldn’t mind if Daphne puts her in touch with whats-his-face and he brings her there for dinner on Saturday night? Maybe I’ll send them over a bottle of champagne to celebrate.”
“Cristal is too showy, but Pen loves a Veuve,” Benedict adds. “I wonder what she’ll wear. Something low cut, I presume.”
“Stop it!”
They stare at him blankly as his heart pounds against his ribcage.
“I didn’t think you’d crack first,” Benedict whispers to Anthony out of the corner of his mouth.
Anthony snickers at that. “He tested my patience.”
“Neither of you knows what you’re talking about,” Colin insists. “Pen and I have been best friends forever.”
Anthony sighs heavily and places his empty tumbler on the table. When the server approaches, he shakes his head, thus indicating the end of their evening together. His card is on file so there isn’t a bill to sign for. “Okay, Colin,” he says.
“You’re wasting time, mate,” Benedict stresses, suddenly sounding quite serious. “You need to tell her.”
“I’m not—”
“Unless you like the idea of her going on a date with someone else in just a few days’ time.”
Anthony stands up and claps a hand on his shoulder. “Think it over.”
Benedict follows suit and presses a kiss to Colin’s clammy forehead. Normally Colin would shrug off his over the top displays of affection meant to rile him up, but as he stares out into space, he can’t bring himself to move. Before they depart, Anthony has a server bring him a glass of water. He takes a sip and wonders when water started tasting so good?
It reminds him of Penelope saying something similar on several occasions in the past. She loves water and gets excited to drink it now, and it seems to amuse her every time the thought strikes. She even said it last night after she finished her first sparkling pink cocktail and opted to not have another. “This water is delicious!” she’d said, and it made him laugh so hard he almost spit out his beer.
She always makes him laugh.
What if she were making someone else laugh? Some nameless, faceless bloke in a blazer and too much gel in his hair. What if Pen places her hand on his, thanks him for a lovely evening. What if she kisses him? What if she brings him back to her flat and takes off his blazer and—
Fuck.
Colin downs the rest of the water in his glass, some of it dribbling down his chin, and bolts for the door.
He checks his phone. It’s nearly midnight, certainly too late to ring her out of the blue. He starts to formulate a plan, wondering how early he can get up to call. He wonders what she did tonight. Sometimes she posts stories on Instagram, especially if she goes out with Eloise and Edwina, so he opens the app, but there’s no pink or green circle around her icon. He goes to close out, when he notices her green bubble. She’s online. More importantly, she’s awake.
He could call. He could ring her right now and tell her everything he wants to say—which is what exactly?
Suddenly it becomes clear. He needs to see her. Then he’ll know what to say.
The Uber to her flat goes by in a blur, and he checks periodically to make sure her green dot is still there. It’s been cold for a couple of minutes by the time he pulls up to her building. Shit.
He has a key fob to her lobby entrance, and he doesn’t have time to pause and consider why he and Eloise are the only ones who do before he lets himself in and makes his way to her door. If she’s in bed and asleep, he can’t come barging in. He might have mucked this up already.
Fuck.
He knocks quietly, waiting a solid thirty seconds, before knocking quietly again. Maybe the first one, she just thought she heard something down the hall, but the second one, he makes more intentional. Unmistakeable. Before he starts to panic over how to convey what he wants to with a third knock, the door swings open to reveal a slightly tired, but awake Penelope, pulling her dressing gown more tightly around her body, a long, low ponytail of red curls swung over her shoulder.
“Mate, are you sloshed?” she asks, a sly grin pulling at the corners of her mouth.
Colin smiles and laughs breathlessly. “No. Well, not really. I had water too.”
She tries to hide her smile. “The good stuff. Did you need something? It’s midnight.”
He shakes his head. “I just…”
A crinkle forms between her brows. “You alright?”
He steps forward, crossing the threshold into her flat. She steps back. The door clinks shut behind him. He’s close. Too close. He crowds her, staring down into two bright blue pools of light swimming in her eyes. God, how has he never noticed how beautiful they are? He can’t unsee it now.
“Colin,” she whispers. “What are you doing?”
He thinks back to his brothers lamenting about how he needs to get his head out of his arse. It’s out. It’s unequivocally out. He can’t help the smile that takes over his face as he steps forward again, until their bodies are touching, and reaches out to slowly slide a hand behind her neck.