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Colin Bridgerton was a lot of things: a dutiful brother, a natural charmer, an adventurous soul.
A talented singer, a capable student, an accomplished dancer. The list went on.
However, what he potentially prided himself on most was being a perilous flirt. One whose attack was subtle, yet lethal. The kind that a receiving party did not realize until a blush had already crept over their entire body.
When it came to using his skill, though, Colin was careful. He flirted with the right people, the ones that had innocent ends (or, when he wanted, not-so-innocent). He flirted at the right time, knowing just when to strike. And, he flirted in the right way, with just the right limits and boundaries he needed to set.
With widows, he complimented them on their jewelry, accompanying it with a slow glance at their chest that sent just the right message. With other travelers, it was eye contact, a dropped chin, and the guarantee that they would not forget the green of his eyes anytime soon. With members of the ton, it was a teasing remark, a well-timed wink, a crooked smile across the dance floor.
But there was one person with whom Colin had simply never flirted, one who was rather off-limits, and there was a very good reason as to why.
Penelope- Pen - was his best friend, his most trusted ally. The one person, barring his family, whose good grace and closeness he could not bear to lose. And he knew the way to hold on was by treating their friendship with the utmost care, cautiously refusing to cross into the line of flirting or anything insincere. Penelope wasn’t someone he could flirt with for a bit of fun - she was so much more than that, far more important than anything fleeting. Colin knew that.
Well, he used to know that. Now, however, he was highly reconsidering his stance on the matter.
They’d restarted their letter-writing while he’d been away, a practice they’d nearly perfected during his first year of travels but had tapered off as time passed. It was only when he’d received the fourth letter from her this time that he’d noticed how much he looked forward to them, how much reverence he had for whatever she’d written him. He laughed at each joke, smiled at each glimpse into her life, and carefully combed over each thought and opinion she shared with him.
He wasn’t sure what exactly it was about her words that affected him - their letters were similar to what they’d always been. But he’d missed them before, more than he’d recognized. And, he suddenly realized one afternoon as he looked out onto the Mediterranean, he missed her. He missed Penelope, the one that was his friend, and the one that was a woman.
Strange, he’d never really considered her as a woman. Oh, she had the correct parts, of course, he’d have to be blind not to notice... But he’d just never considered her a viable option. He’d never really considered anyone a viable option, at least, not since...
Eventually, the thought started creeping into his mind more and more. First, in flickers, then in moments, then in days. And soon enough, he found himself on a boat destined for England, with Penelope at the forefront of his mind.
And when Colin saw Penelope - Pen - across the ballroom during his first night back from a two-year-long trip around the globe, he knew that he was going to break a promise he’d long ago made to himself. He was going to break it, and he was going to have a damned good time doing so.
His lips curved into a grin as he walked toward her. She hadn’t seen him yet, instead was looking off towards another part of the room, lips pouting just slightly. She was wearing bright yellow, a color he knew she never loved, but it seemed nicer than normal that evening. It was as if she was the sun in the middle of the room.
“Pen.” He smiled, touching her lightly on the elbow so she turned to him.
Her face lit up when she caught his eye, giving him an incredibly pretty smile. “Colin! I hadn’t known you were returning tonight.” Her arms twitched upwards before dropping, and he suddenly had the greatest desire to know how her body would feel against his - to feel their arms holding onto each other. He clasped his own hands behind his back with care.
He dipped his head towards her, dropping his chin slightly as he looked her right in the eye. “I wanted to make sure to return for my mother’s birthday. She holds grudges, you know.”
Penelope gasped, putting a hand over her mouth as she glanced over towards Violet. “Heavens be, Colin. A woman like Lady Bridgerton holding grudges? Simply unheard of.”
He flashed some of his teeth in a crooked smile as he shrugged. “Well, we all have our secrets, don’t we?”
Her brows lifted just slightly as she looked back at him, “Surely you’re not including yourself in that?”
"I suppose that in itself is a secret," he drawled, leaning in a bit to better match her eye level. She certainly did have beautiful eyes, didn't she? He wondered how he hadn't noticed that before.
Penelope let out a small laugh, demurely looking down, thereby breaking his view.
He cocked his head to the side, looking between her and the dancefloor. Then suddenly, he reached for her hand. “Dance with me, Miss Featherington? And maybe then you’ll find your answer.”
Penelope let out a giggle in surprise as she nodded, “Certainly, Mister Bridgerton.”
With their hands held up almost up to her chin (he always did find it endearing how short she was), Colin led Penelope to the dance floor, giving her hand a small squeeze as the music started. He congratulated himself on his wonderful choice as he drew Penelope into hold. The waltz: new to the ton, without needless partner changes, and deliciously close.
As they started, he gave her a grin that he knew to be disarming. “Are you sure you’re allowed to waltz? I don’t recall asking your mother for permission.”
Penelope laughed, playfully rolling her eyes. “I suspect my mother would grant anyone permission, at least under the circumstances that they have a pulse and enough money for a spare bedroom.”
Colin nearly snorted before he caught himself, elegantly twirling her. “My apologies, but I do not believe I shall ever have a spare bedroom then.”
“And what exactly do you mean by that?” Penelope was looking at him, a teasing challenge in her eyes. “Please, do explain.”
“I do believe we’ve discussed our mothers more than enough to fulfill the requirement this evening,” Colin said as a way out, casting her a wink. “Tell me, instead, how have you been enjoying the season? Dreadfully until tonight, I presume.”
“Oh, quite right,” Penelope answered mock-seriously before shrugging a bit, her tongue peeking out to lick her lips. Colin swallowed as he looked back up at her eyes. “It’s been alright, though I’ve been thinking it’s time for a change.”
He nodded. “What sort of change?”
She paused for a moment, looking at him carefully. Her cheek went in slightly as if she were biting it, trying to decide whether or not to admit whatever it was to him.
It was almost surprising, how much he found himself wanting to know what it was she meant. He felt like he was hanging on to her every word - waiting for Penelope to grant him worthy of sharing her secrets. Finally, she seemed to come to terms with it, and softly said, “Me. I think it’s time to change me.”
Colin didn’t have to think about his next words, he simply smiled and shook his head, “There is absolutely nothing about you that I would change.”
A blush crept onto her face, and it was just the sort of thing to make his chest leap. “Even so…” She returned his smile and took a step back. It was then that he noticed, with a rather great deal of disappointment, that the song had ended. He took a mental note to have a word with the musicians - his second dance with Pen would have to be a tad longer, even if it wasn’t quite as advantageous as a waltz.
He took her hand again as they moved towards the outer edge of the dance floor. “Would you like a drink?”
Penelope, who had begun to turn away, looked at him in surprise. “What?” And then she caught her rudeness, clearing her throat. “Er, a drink?”
Colin nodded, letting out a chuckle. “Yes, do you not find yourself thirsty after dancing?”
She blinked - how many times he wasn't sure - before nodding slowly. “Alright, I could do with a lemonade.”
He beamed at her, offering up his arm again. “Perfect.”
Penelope hesitated before taking his arm, moving towards the refreshments with him. He peppered her with more questions along the way, ones about the books she’d read and what parties she was planning to attend later in the week.
“Erm,” she started after he handed her a drink, “Colin, how was your return trip? Did you happen to…” She looked like she was trying not to laugh. “Have the same problems as your first time away.”
This time, Colin blinked at her. He was oozing charm and charisma, offering up his very best, and this woman was asking him if he’d retched his entire way home.
“I do not believe that is appropriate ballroom conversation, Miss Featherington,” he chided, though there was a smirk attached.
Penelope blushed again, making Colin’s chest puff out a bit. “You’re right, but I’d love to know when we’re in more private company.”
Colin’s brow quirked up. If Penelope was already speaking of private rendezvous, this courting situation would not need to take long at all.
He decided to go in for his best method of attack.
“Your dress is quite nice, Pen,” he nodded, just a hint of appreciation in his gaze. And then, he dropped it lower, “and the necklace. It suits you nicely.”
“Oh,” Penelope said, looking down at her dress in surprise. She shrugged, “I mean, it’s not what I would pick. But it’s certainly not the worst I’ve ever worn.”
As she reached down to inspect a loose stitch, Colin frowned. That was his best material, the one that was meant to be met with giggles and blushes and perhaps even some swooning.
“And the necklace?” he repeated once she’d met his gaze again. This time, he dipped his eyes even more slowly, drawing careful attention to her décolletage.
Penelope placed a hand, tracing the jewelry. “Just something we picked out to match the dress. In all honesty, it’s rather uncomfortable - it keeps poking into my skin.”
And what soft skin it was. Soft and delicate and -
“Are you done with your drink?”
Colin glanced down to see the drained glass in his hand; he wasn’t quite sure when he’d manage to drink it, but he had found himself rather thirsty. “Yes. Do you want another?”
Penelope shook her head, offering him a grateful smile. “No, I think I’ve had enough lemonade tonight.”
“Good then. I need to have a word with the musicians about something, and then I’d love to have your next dance.”
Penelope, who had just been beginning to bid him a good night, suddenly froze, looking confused. “What?”
This time, she did not attempt to fix her blunder. She just stared at Colin as he stared back. “It should only take but a minute.”
“For what?”
Colin blinked at her. “To speak to the musicians, and then return for your next dance.”
“But that would make two dances.” Penelope was still looking at him with befuddled eyes, the space between her brows creasing.
He nodded slowly. “Yes…?”
“But wouldn’t that make it look as though…” Penelope spun her hands in front of her, apparently trying to communicate something that he was not understanding.
“As though…” Colin waved his own hand for her to go on.
Penelope let out a frustrated sigh, leaning in closer to him. He thought he could smell her perfume - flowery and sweet. Perfectly Penelope. In a whisper, he thought he could feel her breath, “Courting.”
Colin leaned back to look at her, a frown edging into his face. “Perhaps.”
Penelope’s head jerked back. “But that would be ridiculous.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I’m an old maid,” Penelope said, looking at him as if it was meant to be the most obvious thing in the world. “And you’re…” she motioned towards him, her eyes widening in a way that was clearly meant to supply the rest of her sentence.
Colin squinted at her, feeling a touch irritated. He’d been flirting with her since his arrival - doing every possible little thing he could to express his intentions. She was meant to be giddy, whispering to him about how she dreamed of dancing with him the entire night.
But she just kept staring at him like she had no idea what was going on. Her tongue came out again to run over her pouting lips - lips that he'd spent weeks thinking about.
He couldn’t take it anymore. Resolutely, he took her by the hand, pulling her out of the ballroom and into the hallway. Without another word, Penelope followed him, taking hop-steps to maintain his gate. If he wasn’t so frustratingly attracted to her at the moment, he might have laughed.
He wouldn’t do anything to ruin her reputation, of course, but Colin needed to get her alone. Finally, he reached the drawing room and sent her in ahead, closing the door behind them.
“Colin, I don’t think it’s appropriate - ”
“Have you not noticed?” he interrupted her, standing a few feet away from her.
Penelope blinked, taken off guard. “Noticed what?”
Colin gaped at her, his voice coming out snippy. “How I’ve been acting tonight.”
There was a pause as she stared at him, confusion clear in her face. “You’re acting as you’ve always acted?” Penelope said tentatively, brows furrowed in a way that made her look far too adorable for his liking.
He stared at her, his own eyes widening. “As I’ve always acted? I’ve never flirted with you before, Penelope.”
She blinked several times, glancing around the room. “Yes, I know you’ve never flirted with me. You…” And then her face took on a determined, pained sort of look. “You’ve never thought of me that way.”
“Until tonight,” Colin corrected, an annoyed inflection accompanying the words.
Her head snapped back to look at him, a frown etched on her lips as she hesitated. “Until tonight?”
“Yes, until tonight.”
“And what about tonight?”
He looked at her, dumbfounded. “I am flirting with you.”
Penelope stared at him. “Tonight?”
“Yes, tonight. What other night is there?” What in the world was wrong with this woman?
“Tonight? You were flirting with me?”
Colin nodded dramatically. “Yes, tonight, I was flirting with you. Still am, if you would allow me to continue.”
Penelope, to her credit, would not be dazed by this incredibly confounding information. “You’ve quite literally acted exactly as you always have tonight. Other than perhaps a bit more unusual.”
Colin paused, brows furrowing together. After a moment, “What?”
“Nothing about tonight has really been different.”
"Well, that's simply not true."
"Oh, I assure you it is." Penelope shook her head in disbelief. Colin opened his mouth to disagree, but she straightened back, careful eyes holding a newfound brightness in them. “But, alright, fine, you’ve been flirting with me. Why?”
His head jerked backward slightly. “Why?”
Penelope let out an exaggerated exhale. “Yes, why have you been supposedly flirting with me?”
"Because I want to." The answer was that simple, really.
She frowned, somehow still not understanding. "What does that mean?"
Colin let out a sigh, tired of this back-and-forth. He wasn't getting anywhere with her with words. So, he considered her for a moment, and then he grinned. Deliberately, he looked down at the hem of her skirts, and then, he took his time as his eyes trailed up her body. This time, when he met Penelope's gaze, she was blushing, eyes wide. Pretty pink lips parted in a gasp. He stepped forward, a finger reaching up to run down her warm cheek, making its way down her neck.
"Because," he repeated, his hand moving to her back, pulling her closer, "I want to."
And he did, very much so. He'd wanted it when he'd first entered the ballroom. He'd wanted it when he'd first touched her elbow. And now, he wanted it so much more.
This was Penelope, and this was flirting.