Chapter Text
1818
Returning to England used to feel like coming home. It ceased feeling that way a long time ago, but disembarking from the ship to be greeted by an English sailor relieving himself over the side of the dock did little to warm Colin Bridgerton’s heart to his homeland. Wrinkling his nose at the ghastly smell of piss and salt air, Colin shouldered his bag and made for the carriage that awaited him. A deckhand took to loading Colin’s luggage and trunks on the carriage while he went to open the door. Colin stroked his beard. He would need to give himself a trim before he saw his mother. Violet would surely not approve of the facial hair he was sporting these days. Once she got over the initial joy of seeing him again, that was. His rather lengthy absence this time may have left his mother’s heart longing for him enough she would overlook his rather rugged aesthetic.
Although, Colin was quite unsure if many knew he was back. Surely, El would have told their family at least.
The moment he got into the carriage, though, Colin found his younger sister waiting for him. She smiled, but that smile did not quite reach her eyes. He reached to embrace her, even though he was surprised at her presence at the docks.
“Sister?” he said. “I did not realize you would be coming to act as greeting party. Not that I am complaining.”
Eloise, never one to shy away from sharing her opinion, gawked. “You have grown a beard!” he exclaimed. “And a rather unkempt one at that. Have you decided to forgo shaving in your explorations?”
“Not that you would know anything about the intricacies of shaving, El, but a dull razor is most unpleasant to shave with,” he said.
Eloise’s lips twisted into a wry smile. She watched her elder brother, a guarded light in her eyes. There was something she wished to tell him, but she held back for now.
Apparently, Colin was not the only one coming back with changes.
“Where was it this time? Near Russia, was it not?” she asked, while the deckhands continued loading his luggage. “You’ve been gone for more than a year this time.”
Colin nodded, eyes drifting out the carriage window. He watched the ship’s sails flapping in the wind. A desire to get back on the ship and let it take him back to the Continent, or even the Americas, rose in his chest. From the dock, a flag of the British Empire snapped in a fresh gust. He should not be here. This was not home. Not anymore.
Home was nowhere. Nowhere he could go anyway. And even if it was, he would no longer find welcome there. His own recklessness had seen to that.
“You appear to be rather…despondent at your homecoming,” Eloise remarked.
Colin shrugged. “What is there to discuss?” Could the bags not be loaded any faster? He was eager to get away from this place, before he was tempted to board another boat.
“Your most recent trip, perhaps?” Eloise laughed. “You were always so eager to discuss them before. What is it? Do you no longer wish to tell us of all the exciting discoveries of philosophy and culture you made this tour?”
At last, the carriage received a knock to get moving. It couldn’t have come soon enough. Colin relaxed slightly into his seat. He fixed Eloise with an incredulous look. She had been one of the ones that complained most about his tales of traveling.
“Come now, Eloise,” he said. “Do not pretend you wish to hear anything regarding my travels.”
“Well, it’s not as if you wrote many letters this time,” she said, closing the curtains of the carriage. “The most we heard from you was where you were staying, should we need to get ahold of you.”
He nodded. “Yes, and it was quite on purpose. I did not wish to waste precious time writing letters I would receive no responses to.”
Guilt crossed Eloise’s face. She sighed. “I imagine you were not lonely then if you spent no time writing letters. You were quite popular last time on your travels, if I recall correctly.”
“I had no interest in keeping company with anyone.” Colin spun his ring on his finger. Indeed, he had spent little time with others.
“Well, perhaps you wish to hear about the things going on at home,” Eloise said. “Since you know nothing about it. Daphne and the Duke are expecting their third child. She is about halfway through her pregnancy. Simon has had to tell their cook to make strict limits on what they can serve. Daph’s stomach is so delicate this time around, it would seem. Oh, and Francesca and John will be down to visit in a few weeks. I believe John’s cousin will be accompanying them. Some lady named Michaela? I cannot remember her from the wedding to save myself. And Mother –”
Colin interrupted, “You are not still acquainted with Cressida Cowper, are you?” He was unsure why that question was the foremost one he wanted to ask, but it leapt from his mouth before he could stop it. He did not want to encounter Cressida Cowper while he was back, though. If his sister still considered her a friend, she might still be around.
Eloise’s jaw hardened. “Of all the things you could ask about, that is your biggest concern?” When he did not break his gaze with her, she sighed. “No, there is no longer a friendship between Cressida and myself. And she is Miss Cowper no more. Her father made good on his promise to marry her off to an aged friend. Some rich gentleman named Lord Twombley. Contrary to what she said last season, when we were still friendly, she seems to have made the very best of her situation. She’s quite happy to show off her daughter wherever she goes.”
Colin’s eyebrows migrated to the top of his head. Cressida having a child was certainly a frightening thought. Maternal was not a word he would associate with her, not in a thousand years.
“Well, I suppose that is an interesting development,” he said. He did not much care for children right now. Probably would not ever again.
The carriage rumbled along. Eloise fiddled with the fabric of her shawl. She kept her eyes averted now. Colin noticed immediately. If she was so fearful, there could only be one reason why. And he had no interest in hearing about it. Silence was all he longed for at this moment.
Silence was not Eloise’s strong suit, though.
“Lady Debling has also had her baby,” she said, her voice barely audible.
Debling . It was a name Colin could scarcely hear without clenching his fists. His heart filled with a rage he could scarcely imagine being within himself. But the anger was there, a festering dark spot in his heart that chilled whenever he heard the name. He wondered at where in the Arctic the man might be, and if one of the great white bears there that prowled the ice might devour him if Colin wished hard enough for it.
“A daughter,” Eloise went on. “She is several months old.”
Clearing his throat, Colin asked, “What is it you called me back to England for, Eloise?” His voice was icy. He had no desire to discuss the particulars of a child he wished he had no knowledge of their existence. “You were rather cagey in the letter, but you were insistent I begin my journey back to London immediately. Well, I have made great haste to be here. Are you in some sort of trouble?” Eloise trembled across from him, lower lip shaking. He sat straighter. His irritation evaporated to concern. “El? What is it?”
Shaking her head, Eloise bit her lip. The thing she kept hidden from him struggled to get out of her mouth.
“Eloise, you are truly concerning me,” he said. “Are you well? Or, is it the family? Is something wrong with our family?”
She shook her head. “Yes, everyone is well,” she assured him. “And, you will need to forgive me, but I have not told anyone you were on your way back. Few know of your return.”
Confusion flooded through Colin. He rubbed his face. “El, I must insist you tell me what is happening?” he said. “No one knows I’m here? Alright. But why ?”
Before Eloise could say anything, a knock sounded from the top of the carriage. Colin frowned as they pulled to a stop. The trip was not long enough to have gotten them to Bridgerton House. Eloise opened the door and motioned for Colin to follow her. They stepped out into a street in Mayfair. Fashionable individuals walked the street, none of them pausing to pay any mind to the Bridgerton siblings. Colin glanced up and down the street, trying to gather his bearings. They were let out near the side gate to a massive mansion. He frowned. Why did this place look so familiar to him? Eloise was telling the carriage driver to wait for their return before returning to Colin’s side.
“This way,” Eloise said, motioning for him to follow her to a side gate.
“Eloise, where are we?” Colin asked, watching as his sister knocked on the side gate. He twisted his ring again on his finger, nervous. The pensive look on his sister’s face as she navigated them through the street to the gate to this unfamiliar yet still recognizable estate was an expression he never saw on Eloise’s face before today. She walked with a confidence into the unknown where she used to be awkwardly anxious. Colin frowned.
Eloise took his arm, patting it while they waited for the gate to open. El’s curiously calm demeanor unsettled him. And her silence disconcerted him. Before he could demand an answer again, the gate opened, and a quiet-faced maid poked her head out. Her perceptive brown eyes found Colin’s, and she nodded to him. His stomach dropped.
“Come along, Colin,” Eloise said, pulling him through the gate. “You want answers. Well, they’re here.”
The gate led to a garden at the back of the house. As soon as the gate closed, the latch sounding like a clap of thunder to Colin’s ears, he longed to race back to the docs. He would run if he had to. And once he got there, he would swim his way across the Channel. Anything to get away from here.
“Thank you, Rae,” Eloise said.
Rae nodded to them, eyes sweeping over the siblings. She curtsied to them both amidst the herb garden. Colin did not blink; he could barely breathe. The house belonged to Lord Alfred Debling, that’s why the estate looked so familiar. He rarely hosted events at his house, which was why Colin took so long to recognize it. The garden was small back here, leading to the servants’ entrance and the kitchens. It looked well tended, full of herbs that likely got collected for the house’s occupants.
“If you will follow me this way,” Rae said. Her voice was small, unremarkable. Just as subtle as it was the last time he heard it.
When he saw she meant to take them inside, Colin stopped short. Eloise and Rae stopped, too, both of them staring at him. Incredulous, he gaped at both women. His eyes flitted the expanse of the house. The windows revealed nothing. There was no one to see, but he could not help but feel like someone was watching him from somewhere up there. He knew who they were bringing him to see. Fear shot up his spine. No, this could not happen. The last time he saw her was the day he made the worst mistake of his life. So much venom passed between the two of them that last time they spoke, he knew some of it still lingered in his blood. No matter how many times he imagined apologizing, though, no matter how many poetic speeches he composed, none of it would matter.
It was too late.
It would always be too late.
“No,” he said, with a rough shake of his head. “I do not know what this is, but I will go no further. This is –”
Eloise gave Rae a smile. “IF you would allow us a moment, I need to assist my brother in gathering his courage.”
Rae nodded to them, those perceptive eyes narrowing on Colin before she went inside. Colin gulped. Apparently, Rae’s loyalty was exactly where it had always been, and just as solid, if not more so, than when he was bribing her to watch her mistress’ door for an hour. He was pleased to see Rae had come to the Debling estate. Loyalty was important, particularly when a woman entered her husband’s house with few friends and no loving family.
“Why have you brought me here, El?” he asked. “I assume you must know what happened between us if you are being this secretive. Why else would you be bringing me through the servants’ entrance?” Colin looked up at the house again. It truly was massive, a solid architectural symbol to remind the estate-less, titleless Colin of just all the ways he would always be the lesser choice.
Eloise shook her head. “Yes. I am aware. She and I have reconciled.”
Jealousy flared in Colin that his sister was able to say those words. He put his hands on his hips. “El. If you reconciled, you know what happened. You know the reason I ran, and you know I cannot enter this house.” The pain would obliterate him. He had no idea what Eloise knew, what version of events was that she was told, what feelings were behind the tale as it was voiced to her. “Does she even know of this plan of yours, whatever that plan is? I cannot fathom she would want me in her husband’s home, least of all while their child is there!” He spat the word “child,” sickened at the thought of resenting an innocent baby. He loved children, his nieces and nephews were some of the greatest joys in his life. To hate this child in this home felt equivalent to hating them. And as irrational as it was, Colin could not stop the feeling from festering in his gut. To him, his hate for an innocent babe was the worst thing that had changed within him.
Eloise put a hand on his arm. “She knows you are here,” she said. “I wrote to you before I told her, but she is in agreement that it was necessary.”
“In agreement that what was necessary?” Colin exploded. “You still have not told me what it is you have dragged me here for, Eloise!” He gestured to the house. “She and I parted with some…they were terrible things we said to one another, El. Downright poisonous. And she is a married woman now. A…mother. Even if we had not parted on horrible terms, it would be most inappropriate for me to enter this house!”
The scoff Eloise let out was brash. “Do not pretend to care for propriety, Col.” She fixed him with an arched brow. Colin’s ears burned. His sister knew of his past activities, and she was not shying away from letting him see that. “You are here for reasons that are not mine to share. Only she can do that. You must see her. I know there is pain in your shared history, but it was imperative you see her. It is not something that can be written; you can only see her. That is all you can do.”
Eloise’s fervor was so earnest. Colin had no choice but to accept what she was proposing. He sighed and gave a curt nod. Fleeing to the Continent still sounded so ideal. But his curiosity won out in the end. As he stood in the garden, watching El go to knock on the door to gain entry from Rae, his mind spun. Had he known he was coming to see her, he might have taken some time on the ship to trim up his beard. He looked a wreck, smelling of salt and ocean air. In his travels, he had completely forsaken the attire of a gentleman, opting to dress as a true explorer. Even his boots were salt-stained.
Rae took them through the kitchens and through quiet halls adorned with artwork of natural landscapes. They saw few other servants, likely a conscious choice on Rae’s part. There was no telling where the loyalty of the Debling household servants lay. Perhaps they cared for their new mistress, but in all likelihood, they had been hired by the master of the house.
Colin took in the home around him, morbid curiosity getting the better of him as he wondered what the lady of the house had changed upon her arrival. There were no obvious sign of the absent Lord’s nature-inclined tendencies or his work; the colors were all soft blues and greens. Fresh blooms in vases filled the hall with a pleasant scent. But it was unremarkable, just another house belonging to a high society family. Nothing quite distinguished it from any other home he had been in.
“This is Lady Debling’s personal study,” Rae said, pausing to knock on a door at the top of a flight of stairs. “You will have the privacy you need.”
Colin’s stomach knotted. He could barely breathe. From the other side of the door, he heard the soft, “Come in,” and it almost knocked him to the floor. For over a year, he’d dreamt of that voice, been unable to escape it, no matter how hard he fought. Inebriation could not free him. Pursuit of new experiences gave him no reprieve. No matter how many blows to the face he took in fights took away the pain of her absence. And, yet, here she was, just behind the dark wood door.
Her back was to him when he first entered. This room felt like it belonged only to her. Shelves stuffed with thick volumes lined the walls. A writing desk sat at the center of the room, covered in papers and quills and stacks of books. Colin swallowed hard, torturing himself with the question of whether or not any of those letters belonged to her husband, off somewhere in the Arctic Circle. Thick blue velvet curtains lined the windows. She stood in front of the windows, arms clearly holding something close to her chest. Her red hair was styled and curled very much how it had been before he left. The dress she wore was dark purple, and it hugged her luscious curves in a way that squeezed Colin’s heart.
Panic filled his chest. Was the child truly in the room as well? What was this moment meant to be, some sick form of torture to keep him in agony for the rest of his days?
“Thank you, Rae. Please allow me a few moments alone with the Bridgertons.” This time, he was in the room to hear her voice. It took all his energy to remain on his feet. The air was stolen straight from his lungs. Behind them, Rae closed the door to the study. Colin glanced at his sister. The fact she had not yet turned around had not escaped him.
“Hello, Colin.”
Then, she turned. She looked exactly the same as when he last saw her. Rosy cheeks. Clear blue eyes. Her hair was shining in the natural light streaming in through the windows. Tension locked in his shoulders. Sure enough, in her arms was a baby. The child, a daughter, played with her mother’s hair. She giggled and cooed, and it took all Colin’s energy not to flee from the room. His gaze dropped.
“My lady,” he managed. His heart was in his throat, blocking his voice. He avoided looking at the baby in her arms. With the jealousy burning in his veins towards the child’s father, he felt he could not look at the child herself. As if she could not stand him ignoring her, the baby let out a great holler. Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched her mother bounce the child in an effort to calm her.
Keeping his eyes averted, Colin cleared his throat, and said, “Congratulations on, er, the birth of your child.”
“This is Agatha.”
He cleared his throat. “Er, that is a lovely name.”
“Yes, Lady Danbury has been quite the friend to me,” she said. She approached Colin. The scent of her perfume wafted into his nose. That smell threatened to yank him back in time. A time when he was happy, when both of them were happy.
Baby Agatha made babbling noises, gurgled and giggled.
Colin wanted to rip his hair out, to rage and demand why he was there. He kept his gaze on the floor. His limbs shook uncontrollably. Neither of them had ever been cruel, why were they forcing him to be in the same proximity as the child that was not his? The child he wished with all his heart might have been his. To look at the baby would be too painful. Why did they insist –
His catastrophic thoughts were halted when Eloise shoved her elbow into his side. “Oh, for goodness sake! Colin, you daft idiot, look at the baby!” she snapped.
Eyes flitting to Eloise, seeing the insistence on her face and hearing it in her voice, he finally looked at the baby. He watched as the little girl reached for Eloise, clearly recognizing her. His sister’s attention shifted to the baby, smiling and tapping the child’s nose.
And then he looked at the baby. Her small face turned to see Colin, little mouth lit in a smile. She had a head of thick brown hair, chestnut and wavy. Her eyes were wide and round and blue, and for a moment Colin thought he was staring in the looking glass. His mouth dropped. Air disappeared. The blood in his ears roared. All he saw was the child with his likeness, and she was quickly fading from his vision. Desperately, he searched for the faces of the other two in the room, both of them suddenly concerned. Vaguely, he heard one of them say his name, but it sounded far away, like an echo.
“Pen?” he managed, before he collapsed to the ground.